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dadolorian · 4 years ago

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Seven Days of Valentines, (Diamonds and Daddies side story) Whiskey x F!Reader CH 4

A/N: Thanks to @talesfromtheguild for Beta reading and helping me with many ideas for this! This will be a weekly series leading up to Valentines Day

I try to keep Readers physical appearance as open as possible for this story, but please note in these chapters shes going to become more of a ‘character’, some specific interests of hers are going to come into play.

This is canon to the main Diamonds and Daddies story, but i am uploading as its own thing. You do not need to have read Diamonds and Daddies to read this, just know its a fic about Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels being a Sugar Daddy and the reader is a professional Sugar Baby.

Fandom: Kingsman the golden circle Ship: Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x Cis F!reader Warning/tags: established relationship, P in V sex, fingering, Oral ( F receiving) , multiple orgasms, over stimulation, dirty talk, Daddy kink, DD/LG/BDSM style relationship, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it up irl) checking of safe word, possessive language, aftercare, toys, squirting, pussy slap, nipple/clit pump, some mild fluff

Let me know if i forget anything

Word count: 6K +

My master list Seven days of Valentines masterlist AO3 LINK Buy me a Kofi

Summary: Whiskey whisks his Sugar baby away for a romantic Valentine’s getaway. Day four, jack gift Honey Bee a special gift.

Thursday 12th of February

As promised, you were left with a very sore and tender pussy.

You awoke in uncomfortable pleasure with Jack's face buried between your legs, devouring you as if he hadn’t had his fill of you less than eight hours earlier.

Lazily, you tried to push him away with your hand, in a feeble attempt to fall back to sleep, however thanks to your lingering sensitivity and the skill of his tongue he managed to coax you to orgasm despite your meager attempt to recede back into sleep.

You whimpered, grogginess clear in your high whines, as Jack lapped you up, savoring your taste before beginning to kiss his way up your body, pushing up his t-shirt you still wore to kiss at more of your soft skin. He gravitated towards your lips finally, lazily melding his mouth to yours. You tasted yourself on his tongue, alongside that taste you couldn’t describe as anything other than Jack. You moaned together, as if relieved to be connected once again finally.

Strong, familiar arms wrapped around you and lifted your hips to his, he hissed into your kiss as your soaked core rubbed up against his erection through his sweatpants.

“Is your sore pussy up to taking Daddy this morning?” he asked when you finally separated your lips from one another. His voice was raspy with sleep and need.

“If I'm not too sensitive for you to eat me out before I’ve even woken up, then I’m sure I can take your cock Daddy,” you cooed, giggling at the way his eyes darkened and the hungry look he gave you as he quickly hooked his sweats under his cock and balls.

“If you can still take me after last night, then clearly I didn't do a good enough job,” he teased before he pushed himself inside you with a satisfied groan.

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Even with Jack’s morning distraction he had the two of you out the door, before noon, dressed ready in warmer clothes than usual due to the reported snowfall.

He took you to Piazza Navona, it was beautiful, even with the overcast gray sky, thanks to the cold February air it was not as busy as you expected, giving you and Jack plenty of space to roam about the decadent square to observe the beauty of the architecture and fountains.

Snow covered the ground, which did not dampen your experience in the slightest. Jack promised to ‘make up for it’ in the future by taking you back in warmer months, but you silenced his worries with a kiss.

“I am thrilled we are here, even if it's cold, I don't need blue skies and sunshine to appreciate any of this Jack.”

He gave you a soft smile in return, feeling some of his worry lift.

“I still want to take you back here Sugar, one day.”

“I would love that, I just don't want you thinking I'm somehow disappointed because you took me here in late winter. I love it Jack, thank you.”

You shared a deep kiss in front of one of the fountains, as the only two people in the square.

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You were equally as excited when Jack took you to your next location for the day, and found it was just as empty as Piazza Navona. Trevi fountain was covered in snow, the blanket was growing steadily thicker as snow began to fall, Jack was grateful he had the foresight of an umbrella that day, opening it up and pulling you to his side as you both made your way over to the famed fountain.

“This is amazing, that we get to experience such a place, just the two of us” you whispered, leaning your head on his shoulder, huddling closer to him against the cold.

“It seems surreal Darlin,” he hummed beside you, kissing the crown of your head. “It’s like we’re the only two people in the world.”

You giggled. “Hmmm, and is this what we would do? If we were? Travel around, seeing the sights?”

“If it were just the two if us, I would want nothing more than just to explore the rest of the world with you, Honey Bee,” he smiled.

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You flipped through photos you had taken that morning on your phone as you sat in the passenger seat, Jack beside you holding your free hand as the driver took you to wherever he had planned for your lunch.

You giggled at one particular photo, Jack was pulling a face into the camera as he would often do when in a playful mood.

“Send me them when you get a chance Darlin,” he said warmly beside you, smiling at your smile. You gave him a nod before swiping through more.

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Lunch, as it turned out, was very similar to yesterday's lunch, as Jack had surprised you with another workshop. However, this time you were taking a pizza class.

Your stomach growled as you entered the warm Pizzeria, shrugging off the thick winter coats you wore and hanging them up. You were grateful for the change in temperature as you both cleaned off the snow clinging to the rest of your clothes before joining the small class.

You decided to spend the time this lesson enjoying the experience more than teasing Jack, who seemed just as agreeable to the notion as you stood side by side at your station, listening to your instructor.

You had a lot of fun, Jack kneaded the dough for you as you stood to the side, admiring his arms as he rolled up his sleeve and got to work. As the dough was stored away to rise, you cleaned your station together, sitting down to decide what toppings you each wanted.

Your pizza base was an uneven circle, Jack rolling it out once they were all deemed acceptable. You giggled at the lopsidedness of it, taking a quick photo of Jack’s pout as you giggled over your lumpy pizza base.

Together you made the sauce and spread it on your base, before you were finally allowed to decorate it with toppings. Before you could start, Jack made an equally uneven heart shape out of your shredded mozzarella, and with sauce bottle in hand, he managed to write a very messy “JD ❤️ HB”

You ‘awwed’ at the gesture, quickly snapping a picture of Jack next to his creation, smiling proudly.

“How very ‘cheesy’ of you,” you joked lamley, making Jack groan.

You finished putting the rest of your toppings on before you were finally allowed to deliver your pizza to the pizza oven. Jack was thrilled to get to use the large wooden pizza peel, and you made sure to take a video of Jack putting your pizza in the large oven to cook with help from the instructor.

While your lunch cooked you cleaned everything up, leaving your station as spotless as you found it. When the food was ready you and Jack sat at the tables, alongside other couples, chatting away happily as you all ate together, his arm around you lazily.

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You were surprised when Jack led you back to the hotel much earlier than you expected, having just finished lunch and bundling back up in your coats to brave the increasing snow.

You weren't complaining though, as you entered the lobby just as the snow had started to become a blizzard, more than happy to escape the cold for the rest of the day.

You were taken back to your room, and perhaps a little disappointed as you entered the bedroom, finding no gifts laid out.

Jack took notice, chuckling and kissing your cheek.

“Later Honey, we’re only stopping by to get rid of our winter gear,” he said warmly, shedding his coat once more and changing into some comfortable lounging clothes. He encouraged you to do the same, so quickly you dressed into a large baggy sweater dress, warm leggings and soft ugg boots. He took your hand once you were ready, and just as quickly as you had arrived to your suite, you were swept away to some unknown part of the hotel.

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You were delighted when you passed through two large glass doors to what you could only describe as a mini spa resort.

The air was warm and misty, smelling vaguely of vanilla and pine, tiled floors made shoes click as they passed over it, the walls were gray, with a large mural walk behind the tall reception desk. The hotel's logo stood out on the mural of trees, and sitting underneath, behind the desk were two petite young women who greeted you with a smile.

“Mr Daniels?” one of them asked in a strong italian accent.

Jack smiled and nodded, pulling you with him as you were led down a short hallway to the side, and then into a changing room where robes and towels waited for you.

You both undressed in your cubicles, putting on the towels and plush white robes provided for you. Jack took your hand back once the two of you were ready for whatever treatment you were about to get.

As usual, Jack had spared no expense, and the two of you were treated to a full spa experience. Jack had even gone the extra mile to give you a full beauty treatment as an added bonus.

You were able to relax in the Sauna together, your head resting on Jack’s shoulder as the heat sweat away your stresses. That was followed up by your beauty treatment. Mani and pedi, facial, exfoliation, face mask, eye mask, you experienced the full works, all while Jack cooled off in an Ice bath.

You enjoyed your pedicure along with a small sample of fruits and sandwich , followed up with a delicious slice of decadent cake, and a glass of champagne.

And the entire spa experience was topped off with a couples massage.

Jack reached across the small gap between your tables whenever he could to hold your hand in his. Any tension you had in your body melted away thanks to the expert hands of your masseuse and the scented oils coating your skin.

Sighing, you closed your eyes, trying hard not to fall asleep due to your extremely relaxed state, waiting to enjoy the feeling as much as possible by not drifting off.

You giggled, along with your masseuses when Jack's steady snore revibriated along the tiled walls, his hand relaxing in your grip as he drifted off, completely and utterly relaxed.

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By the time your massage had ended you were feeling more loose and relaxed than you had ever felt in your life, you rolled your shoulders with a content sigh, loving how loose your muscles felt.

“Damn Darlin, I didn't even realize my back was hurting so much until the pain went away,” Jack sighed beside you, taking your hand as you made your way back to the changing room to shower off the oil still coated to your skin.

“You enjoy your beauty treatment?” he asked, taking your hand in his once you were dressed, inspecting your manicure and affectionately stroking your fingers with his.

“Yes,” you nodded smiling at him. “Thank you.”

He smiled back and kissed your forehead. “Not that you need a beauty treatment Darlin, you’re already stunning,” he said, making you blush.

Washed, dried, and dressed you made your way back to your suite together.

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As he had promised earlier, gifts were now laid out on the bed, you bounced over to them excitedly, making Jack chuckle at your eagerness. Three boxes, with no clothes set out that evening, which surprised and intrigued you. As expected, one of the boxes contained a lingerie set, red and lacy, but unlike the other set the had bought for you so far, they were not intended to be practical, usable underwear as well, as the cups of the ‘bra’ were not there, the lace would perfectly frame your breasts, leaving them exposed for Jacks viewing pleasure. The ‘panties’ were matching, crotchless, this set was purely to wrap you up nice and pretty leaving everything open to Jack so he would not have to remove a single piece from you to get what he wants.

He growled softly behind you, wrapping his arms around you to kiss at your neck. “Gonna look so good in that Darlin,” he said, voice deep with lust already at the thought of you wearing it.

“Open the others”

You placed the first box down back on the bed, reaching for the next closest box and lifting the lid. Instantly you felt yourself growing wet at the sight of its content.

“I hope after last night you won't be too sore to play with these tonight,” Jack’s teasing voice tickled your neck as you stared down at the toys in the box.

So far, in the short time you had been together you had experimented with toys only a handful of times, and so far, they had been simple bullets and vibes. Evidently tonight, Jack wanted to be a bit more, experimental.

One simple, silver bullet vibe, a finger vibe, a silicone egg attached to a silicone string you could only guess vibrated, and the largest dildo you had ever seen in person. Your heart was beating fast in anticipation, and you were sure Jack could feel it with his lips latched to your pulse point.

“Open the last one,” he rasped.

You almost dropped the box as you opened it, overwhelming anticipation making you shake as you stared down at a toy you had only ever dreamed about being used on you.

Nipple and clit pumps, you were certain Jack was planning on a night just as intense as the last night, and you were more than looking forward to it.

“Go, get changed, I’ll be waiting for you.”

You were quick to change in the ensuite, touching up your hair in the mirror and re-applying Jacks favorite mascara. When you came back out to the bedroom, dressed in the exposing red number, Jack was laid out on the bed, even more exposed than you, completely nude as he lay back with a cocky grin, slowly pumping his hardening cock.

You feigned feeling bashful, hiding half of your body behind the door frame and avoiding his eyes. He chuckled, becoming you over with his finger.

“No need to feel shy Darlin, you look good enough to eat,” he hummed, still stroking his cock slowly with one hand while the other was open to you in invitation. You padded over the soft carpet, still pretending to feel shy. As soon as you were in reach he pulled you to the bed, pushing you onto your back and bending over you to give you a kiss.

“I really could eat you up, you sexy little thing,” he teased, his fingers dancing across your skin to the lacy edges of your ‘bra’, the pads of his fingers brushing against your bare breasts as he played with the lace.

“These,” he said, squeezing your breasts, weighing them in his palm. “A meal fit for a king,” he continued, growling before dipping his head further to mouth at your breasts. He lavished attention to them, making sure to toy with the one not currently in his mouth with his hand, squeezing, kneading the flesh in his large calloused hands, and tweaking your nipple while he licked and suckled on the other one.

You moaned, already aroused just by looking at the toys he had selected for that night, but even further so now. You felt your arousal leak out of you, with no barrier to hold it thanks to the lack of material covering your centre.

Jack switched, making sure each of your breasts felt the attention of his mouth, you looked down at him, and found him staring back at you with intense, dark eyes, watching your every reaction, every gasp and moan.

“Fuck, I love your tits,” he moaned agaisnt your skin, placing a few soft kisses to your peaked nipples before pulling away. His hand stroking the flesh of your thigh as he sat up, erection proudly twitching against his stomach.

“Which of those toys caught your attention most, baby?” He asked, positioning you gently further back on the bed.

“T-the pumps,” you answered truthfully, rubbing your coated thighs together in anticipation as Jack got up off the bed to collect the boxes.

“Yeah? You want Daddy to torture your nipples and poor little clit?” he asked, setting the boxes beside you on the bed.

You nodded up at him eagerly.

“Daddy will do just that,” he promised, picking out the finger vibe from the box and sliding it over his index, switching it on so it buzzed lightly. “But I want to try them all out on you baby.”

His finger started at your nipples, trailing slowly down your body until he reached your clit, circling it gently so the vibrations barely tickled you. You whined, lifting your hips , trying to gain more pressure to your clit, but Jack slapped your thich in warning.

“You take what Daddy gives you,” he reminded you, torturing you further by rubbing his vibrating finger over your clit directly, so lightly you could only just feel the promise of the vibrations against your swollen bud.

“Daddy please,” you whined, pouting when he chuckled at you, not taking pity on you.

“Patience is a virtue sugar,” he teased, leaning over to rasp in your ear. “Daddy will will make you cum so hard so much it fucking hurts if you be good for me.”

You moaned, knowing full well Jack always kept his promises if you behaved for him.

“Imagine that big one inside you,” he continued, knowing full well his words could turn you on just as much as his touches. “I wanna see your sweet little peach of a pussy stretch around that, your hungry little hole taking that massive cock, fuck, I bet it would hurt to cum around that thing, your cunt stretched so much and tightening around that, fuck I could cum just imagining that.”

You moaned again, nodding your head and silently begging for just that, wanting to please him, wanting that painful pleasure.

Your eyes were closed, imagining his little fantasy, how good it would feel when he surprised you by pushing the vibe right onto your clit, making you yelp.

“We’re gonna start small, and make our way up,” he said, sitting back up to watch you writhe under the pleasure of the vibe. “It’s going to be another long night Baby girl.”

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Jack had successfully made you cum with the finger vibe without ever sliding anything inside you, and had slowly worked you open with the small silver vibe, pumping it in and out of you slowly, bringing you back to the edge of pleasure before abandoning it to the side. You whined in frustration as he took his sweet time picking the next toy, much to your annoyance. There were two toys left in that box and you knew he was going to end with the larger one. He was simply trying to rile you up.

Deciding you were being just a bit too bratty with your complaints, he gave your pussy a harsh slap.

“Patience Baby,” he warned with a growl. “That's your second warning!”

You bit your lip, trying to silence yourself as he pretended to decide which toy to use.

Eventually he picks up the silicone egg and returned to his previous position between your legs, laying on his stomach so he could watch up close.

He turned the egg on, feeling it buzz in his palm before slowly pushing it inside you, cooing gently about how good your pussy looked, framed by your panties as it stretched around the widest part of the egg. Shoving it inside you as deep as it could reach he watched with fascination how slick leaked from you with each powerful buzz.

“Remember, you can’t cum until Daddy says you can,” he laughed before licking up your arousal with a moan. You heard him whisper against your folds how you tasted so good.

You were focusing hard on not cumming until he said so, but that was made far more difficult when he took a hold of the silicone ‘string’ attached to the toy, slowly pulling it down your channel and stretching your hole again.

You keened, arching your back and trying so hard to wait for his permission. He repeated the action, pushing the vibrating egg deep inside you before slowly pulling it out, stopping when you stretched around the widest point. He watched entranced, growling hungrily every time your entrance stretched around it.

He kissed your clit, circling his tongue around it, drinking up your moans.

“Fuck baby, watching my sweet little cunt stretch like this, just makes me want to see what else I can fit in you,” he moaned, lapping up at your folds now. “Im gonna buy the biggest fucking toy I can find when we get home, we’re gonna find your limit one day.”

His lips latched onto your core, eating you out vigorously, and still playing with the toy with his hand, he was struggling to grip it securely with how much you were leaking.

He shoved the toy back inside, pushing up right against your g-spot as he began suckling your clit.

You shrieked, trying not to wriggle too much as you begged, helplessly, for permission.

“Daddy! Please! Please! Pleasepleaseplease!” You wailed. Looking down at him, between your legs, eyes watching you intently again, you saw him nod.

Permission.

You thanked him with a cry as you arched further off of the bed, pushing your hips up into his mouth as he drank down your release, tongue lapping at your hole beside the silicone still hanging out of you. You clenched down around the toy, shaking as your walls contracted around the vibrations.

“Daddy!” You whined, slowly rocking your hips into his face as you rode out your orgasm. As the waves of pleasure washed away, Jack ever so slowly pulled the toy out of you, kissing your clit in praise as he did so. You whimpered, sensitive as he kissed you there.

He cooed again as you stretched around the toy, watching as he pulled it out at a snails pace, enraptured at the sight.

“My pretty little pussy,” he praised, diving to lap up at you again once the toy popped out of you. You mewled, lazily trying to push him away, but he wouldn't be denied his sweet treat.

Jack tossed the toy to the side and crawled up your body, lifting your thighs around his waist. Teasingly, he rocked his hips so his cock, now leaking pre-cum onto your skin.

“Daddy wants to be inside his pretty little pussy,” he rasped. “I know you’re sensitive baby, oohhh but daddy wants to make you a creamy mess before you take that big one, I need you slick with both our cum before I stretch you out with that thing.”

He was rambling, but watched your expression carefully as he lined himself up with your hole, smearing his pre-cum around your folds, waiting for any kind of refusal before pushing his hips forward and filling you easily thanks to his attentions with the egg.

“Fuck, there we go,” he groaned when the flesh of your ass met his thighs. Bottoming out inside of you. You moaned loudly as he filled you up, feeling his tip meet your innermost wall. “I aint ever been in a pussy this good Baby.”

Having neglected his cock for so long, choosing to pleasure you ahead of himself, Jack didn’t bother wasting time building up a slow and steady pace. He pounded into you hard and fast as he always did when chasing his own release and slaps echoing in the room.

He crashed his lips on yours, noses bumping together as the taste of your cum flooded your mouth. The kiss was sloppy, and messy, but Jack desperately seemed to need his mouth on yours as his hips rammed yours. You could tell by his desperation he would not last long, he rarely did when he had aroused himself so much by pleasuring you.

Once, twice, three times he bucked into you hard before warm cum flooded your insides, he pulled your bottom lip into his mouth and bit hard, but not hard enough to draw blood, groaning loudly.

You didn’t complain about the fact that he had sought his own release as he lazily pulled out of you, pushing his seed back inside you with his thumb, knowing full well he intended to make you cum at least once more that night.

“Baby,” he sighed, licking his thumb clean of your combined releases. “What's your color? You still good to try take that big one?”

“Green Daddy,” you sighed, settling into the pillows comfortably, preparing yourself for the challenge.

“My perfect girl,” he said proudly, kissing your cheek and retrieving the toy.

You knew there were larger toys out there, but this would be the largest you had ever taken personally, it was bigger than Jack, who was already an impressive size himself. He placed the toy beside you on the bed before opening the bedside drawer for a bottle of lube.

“I know you’re wet Darlin, you’re always wet for me, your horny little cunt’s always up for more, isn’t she? But we still need to prep you” he said, coating his fingers in lube and putting two in you straight away. The artificial lube, mixed with both of your cum made obscene noises as Jack pumped his fingers and stretched you open.

“Daddy can get hard again on that noise alone Honey Bee,” he chuckled, laughing harder as your eyes widened as you glanced down at his spent, wet cock that was already twitching with interest.

You bit your lip and wiggled slightly, stopping when his eyes cut back to your face in warning.

“Are you going to take me again Daddy?” You asked as a third finger pushed inside you.

“Ohhh, you can bet on it Baby,” he moaned, watching your hole stretching around his fingers. When he managed to fit a fourth, large finger inside you, he stretched you wide open so he could stare into your hole, groaning at the sight.

“My perfect little cunt,” he whispered before spitting into your hole, giving you an obnoxiously cocky grin before pulling his fingers free and shoving them in your mouth to clean.

Obediently you lapped them up, cleaning your combined cum and lube off of his fingers while his free hand opened the bottle again. Once he deemed his fingers acceptably clean he pulled them out of the hot cavern of your mouth and picked up the toy, coating it generously in lube.

“You sweet little pussy’s gonna look so good taking this,” he growled, shoving your legs apart as wide as they could go and lining the tip of the toy up at your entrance. He was extremely careful, as he pushed it forward, watching your reaction carefully for any sign of discomfort. Even with the stretching and copious slick from the lube and cum it was a struggle to take, the stretch was burning and so far he had only pushed the tip in. Jack paused, waiting patiently for your face to relax as he slowly pulled the toy out, then back in, pushing just a little bit deeper each time, pausing, waiting for you to adjust each time you grimaced.

It took a lot of hard work, but with both your efforts the toy was eventually pushed as deep as it could go. You both moaned in unison once the toy could go no deeper. Jack laid down on his stomach, between your legs, staring longingly once again at the stretch of your pussy.

“Baby,” he cooed in adoration, running this finger around the toy where your hole stretched around it, making you whimper. “Look at that, fuck, just imagine how much we could get to fit in you with practice. Your sweet, tiny little pussy’s stretched so wide, Can’t wait to make you cum on that, bet it’s gonna hurt, make you cry, sweet thing.”

You were stretched so wide that the arousal you felt at his words could not escape, simply filling you up further, making you whine.

“Wait here, hold your legs open,” he ordered getting up off the bed, you noticed he was hard again already, having worked himself up watching you stretch around the new toy.

He picked up the last box.

Oh.

You had forgotten about that.

Jack gently picked up the pumps before returning to you, gently attaching the suction cups to each nipple and your clit. He loved how your breasts look, framed by the ‘bra’, pump attached to your nipples.

“Gonna make you cum so hard, it’ll hurt so good baby,” he rasped, voice deep and gravely with lust.

He squeezed the pump gently in one hand, watching how you would react with fierce intensity and hunger. The first pump was just enough to feel a slight suction, a mild sensation, but he continued to pump away slowly, watching the way your nipples began pulling up into the clear cups. He groaned at the sight, and once your nipples and clit started to feel the tight suction you whined loudly in both pain and pleasure, unintentionally squeezing around the large toy inside you still.

Without warning Jack repeatedly squeezed the pump hard and fast, startling you with the sudden, constant suction.

“Ahhhh! Daddy!” You yelped, struggling to keep still for him.

“You know your words,” he reminded you. “They’re there if you need them.”

You shook your head no, wanting that painful orgasm he promised you and was intent on giving you.

You were sobbing as he pumped away, clit and nipples red and raw as they were pulled up into the cups, there would be marks in the morning, no doubt about that.

It was painful, but incredibly arousing at the same time, they had never been this sensitive before, this abused and your head was swimming in the delirium of it.

Jack jerked himself off with his free hand above you, as you squirmed beneath him, the painful, burning stretch of the toy, and the constant and the arduous suction on your most sensitive parts were driving you insane.

To torment you further, Jack placed the pump down but did not release the suction, instead, grabbing onto one of the cups on your nipples and tugging at it. You cried, the pain agonising but it just made you anticipate your orgasm all the more.

Proud of the reaction he pulled from you, his hand moved to the suction cup on your clit, repeating the action. You shrieked, louder than you ever had before and Jack abandoned his cock to cover your mouth, as he repeatedly tugged at the cup, muffling your shrieks.

“Normally I love your noises Baby but we don't need people coming to investigate that now do we?” he teased. “Now I'm going to let go and you’re going to cum for me. You understand?”

You nodded into his hand.

“Good, you need to scream like that, do it into the pillow,” he said before pulling his hand from your mouth to grip the toy filling you up by the base and jackhammering it inside of you, still tugging at the pump on your clit.

It was instantaneous, and as painful as he had promised. Your hole was stretched as wide as it could possibly go right now and gripping hard on the toy that was stuffed inside you. Jack growled, watching with rapt fascination as your poor abused hole rhythmically clenched around the artificial cock.

You didn't shake as much as you thrashed, pulling the pillow to your face to scream your voice hoarse as tears escaped your eyes due to the pain you were drunk on.

Wet squelching, screams and Jack’s praises and curses filled the room as you came and cum gushed from you. Your body was both trying to milk the toy and push it out of you at the same time, and you realized the toy was being forced from you because you were squirting around it. Jack seemed unaware given how big the toy was, but he was preparing to enter you the second he pulled the toy from you, the hand previously tugging at your clit pump was stroking his cock while the hand still on the toy quickly pulled it out of you, coating him in the cum still squirting from you.

“Fuck Baby!” he shouted, surprised for just a moment before he growled and quickly shoved himself in your gaping pussy before you finished. Pounding into you at a brutal pace, unintentionally but happily massaging that spot making you squirt, drenching his front in even more cum before your body could take no more.

“Fuck I didn’t think this would be how I made you squirt the first time, but Im not complaining,” he groaned in your ear, ripping your pillow away from your face and pounding into you, holding your still thrashing body tightly to him, ignoring the pump still on you as his cock destroyed your hole. Over and over again.

His pace was brutal and you cried, from the intense pain and pleasure of your orgasm, from the suction still on your nipples and clit, from the overstimulation of him pounding into you before you had even finished, how tender and swollen your sex was that was continuing to be abused, and the words that dripped from his mouth.

“My fucking pussy, this is mine,” he growled, his voice sounding feral and animalistic. “No ones ever going to please you the way I do, fill you the way I do, every inch of you is mine!”

“Y-yours,” you eeped out, voice faint after screaming so loud.

That was all he needed to push him over the edge, shouting his release as he pulled you up into him and he pushed in as deep as he could go, ignoring how the pump dug into both of you, hitting your cervix, making you cry out as he came.You felt it leak out of you, your abused hole unable to hold it in as he pulled out. Pausing a moment to free you of the pump, making you hiss in pain and relief before Jack collapsed on top of you with a groan, resting his head between your breasts and wrapping his arms around you.

You weren't sure how long the two of you lay there, clinging to each other, hearts and breath slowing down and sweat cooling from your skin as you stroked his hair.

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Eventually, once he was no longer panting, Jack sat up, hair clinging to his sweaty forehead as he took survey of the mess on yourselves and the bed.

“You good baby?” he asked, the need for sleep clinging to his voice.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “That was…”

“Intense?” he supplied with a weak chuckle, getting up off of the bed. “Come on baby, let clean up and get you sorted.”

You whined in complaint, rolling to your side, back to him.

“I know you’re tired,” he cooed, gently picking you up and carrying you to the ensuite. “But you’ll regret waking up in a wet bed, covered in cum and sore as all hell.”

“Fine” you sighed, wrapping your arms around his neck, more than happy to let him do all the work, and you knew he was more than happy to do it.

He took extra care with you that night, cleaning you up, removing the lingerie from your body, soothing your sore abused nipples with ointment, changing the bedsheets and praising you as you snuggled to him every chance you got.

You were already asleep by the time he put you to bed and tucked you in beside him.

Taglist:

@thats-one-tender-foot @luminescentlily @nuttybeardetective @ishqinbbc @ben-is-a-hoe @calamity-queen @phoenixhalliwell @talesfromtheguild @the-arctic-violet @jeeperky @mando-amando

#jack daniels x reader #agent whiskey x reader #jack whiskey daniels x reader #my fic #Seven Days of Valentine's #DIamonds&Daddies #SugarDaddy!Whiskey #thots #smut

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docholligay · 4 years ago

Text

Divided by Four: Thirty-Six

I AM DONE WITH THIS YOU ARE FREE OF HAVING TO SEE IT

Lena Oxton would never have another birthday, and this was an odd thing to think about.

It was one thing, for Tracer, to know that she was dying--she had known that for what seemed like an age now--but quite another for her to know that there were some things she would never do again. The early ones, she hadn’t known, really. The last time she would get on her motorcycle. When she would last trust herself to fly. That final walk down the hall without help from anyone or anything. These lasts had come without announcing themselves, and so Tracer had not gotten the chance to savor them appropriately. It was a mistake she was trying not to repeat, as she felt the sand slip through the hourglass now.

So it was comforting, in a way, to know that this would be her last birthday, even if it felt strange to admit. Tracer had resolved to drink in every instant of it.

She’d told everyone that it was silly and a little wasteful to bring her gifts, given the reality of the situation, and really all she wanted was to be around her people and drink a beer or two, have a few laughs, and for no one to get too misty-eyed. There were a number of things about dying that Tracer didn’t particularly care for, but one topping the list was the way people mourned her before she was gone, when all she wanted to do was enjoy whatever she had left without sadness. There was no point, so she thought, in being so sad over the last bits of something lovely that you ruined it for yourself. It was rather like a child whimpering while eating the last squares of a chocolate bar. So the only gift she had asked for, was for no one to cry in her view, and on that they had delivered.

But also, people had brought gifts. Nothing fancy, really, mostly soft pajamas and blankets, a nice lotion, a particularly plush backrest pillow she was already making use of, things that spoke to both the reality of the situation and the inability of the people who loved her to let it pass by without making the most of it. Her uncle had made her a coconut strawberry cream cake, and she’d even managed to eat some of it. Pharah had made sure to tell her she had better live long enough to use the thick flannel pajamas she’d bought, as she’d had her father send them from Canada.

“Or you’ll do what, exactly?” Tracer had grinned as she said it, “Piss on me grave? Well, I’m being cremated, so even that’ll feel a bit ‘ollow, now won’t it?”

Everyone had laughed, even Winston, who seemed to taking the whole thing rather hard, however much Tracer joked that he’d been taking care of her for the last ten years and really should enjoy his retirement. But mostly, it had been a good day for her, and if she was feeling a little misty herself, it was nothing but the idea that she was so deeply loved, and that not everyone got to experience that in their lives.

She was born under a lucky star, and the last year or so was only a bump in that road near the end of it, a bit like the jar before you leave the pavement. And even that was only her health, wasn’t it?

Moira could take her life--and as happy as she was knowing Moira died never knowing how badly she had hurt Tracer, it did sting a bit to know that was how it would go down in the books--but Moira had never managed to take anything more dear to her. Her family. Her friends. The general sense that she was loved and cared for. Even her mind was sharp and busy as ever, which admittedly made her body’s disobedience a bit more annoying, but she was grateful to have her wits. People would remember her as herself. That was important.

If anything, the relative frustration and pain of the last few months had made her feel all the more loved. Had showed that it must be true.

So nothing was all bad, really.

Night had fallen over London, and as tired as she was, Tracer still could not bring herself to go to bed. Winston had asked gently if she was ready, and she had just shook her head and told him she wanted to stay up awhile. It was nice, this deck she and Winston had put together on the roof of the place. He’d doubted her, when she’d suggested the project, and wondered how he would ever possibly use it, and told her there was no need to put the work in. Sometimes Winston had to be talked into having nice things for himself. He probably would have approved the project so much earlier if he’d known how much time Tracer would spend up here.

The smell of London filled her lungs. She should be more afraid of death, she supposed, but she could never quite let go of the idea that even when she was gone, she wouldn’t be. Not that she believed in an afterlife, really, but she also didn’t not believe in an afterlife, and she’d seen London built on its own ashes so many times, that she had to imagine that even when she was gone, the bombed out wall of what was left of her would be built around, become part of a Pret or a pub or even just a ruin where the pigeons nested.

What was tough was knowing when the building needed to come down, which she hadn’t yet quite figured out for herself. It was one thing to be gone in an instant, a bomb dropped, a moment and then just the rubble. It was another to sway into disrepair, to try and pinpoint the day you had to tell those who had lived in your heart that there were homes elsewhere, and it was time to seek them. When the little joys of being were outweighed by the reality of decay.

“Lena?”

The lightness she felt at hearing her name in that soft brogue was enough to tell her that day had not yet come, and she would keep on for awhile yet. Tracer thought she might live one hundred years, and never tire of hearing Emily’s voice. It was impossible.

“It’s grown late. You’ll tire yourself.” A kiss on the top of her head, and then Emily sat down on the edge of the daybed where Tracer found herself spending much of her time lately.

Tracer chuckled. “Too late. Doesn’t take much anymore, it’s just,” she shook her head, “a bit aggravating, right? There’s so much I’d like to do in a day, not that I can do much of it anyway, but I’d like to at least imagine it. I get frustrated so--”

Emily nodded kindly as she rubbed Tracer’s shoulder, tight with the constancy of spasms that ran through it, but as Tracer’s eyes flicked upwards, she saw the tears on the edge of Emily’s eyes. Not the time to talk about it. Never seemed to be.

Emily would miss her, and there was no real getting around that, no matter how she tried. Tracer had already spent plenty of time writing and rewriting a letter to be published when she was gone, Pharah sitting alongside her on her small laptop, to try and let Emily know in the most public way that she’d like her to move on, and wasn’t only saying it, that she meant it, nagging over the words until Pharah had offered to remove the burden of waiting for death from her.

Pharah joked like that, more than most, because Pharah was kind, in her way, and knew Tracer needed someone to be able to joke with. It was a favor to her. When Tracer had told her, she had asked to be treated the same as ever, and to Pharah’s eternal credit, she came very close.

“Never mind me.” she grinned “Tired and rambling, right? It was a wonderful birthday, Em. Marvelous, really. Been thinking back on me birthdays---I’ve been so lucky. I am so lucky. Thank you, for everything you’ve done, for it.”

She was tired, and her body jerked and shook, but she was still, in this moment, the master of a failing plane, and managed to but her hand on Emily’s leg. Emily curled up next to her and rested her head on Tracer’s shoulder, letting out a little sniffle as she drew her arm around her.

“It’s not fair for you.”

“Me?” Tracer kissed her forehead “Oh, none of that now. Not for me. What’s fair, any’ow? Should ‘ave been killed a thousand times over, love, but I wasn’t, Was I? Plenty were,” she muttered, half to herself, “And I noone in whole of me life ‘as ever wanted to ‘ear it but I’ve ‘ad the sense for years that I wasn’t precisely meant to get me pension. Call it a self-fulfilling prophecy if you like but I--really, who it isn’t fair to is you. Life’s been more than fair to me.”

Emily said nothing, but wiped her eyes and took Tracer’s hand in hers.

“I mean really, think about it. Not a bad life at all, on balance. Pilot. Top Flight Instructor. Commander. Bloody ‘ero of London. I lived more in thirty-six years than most people would if they ‘ad twice the time. So it’s all right. I made it all count. Course I want more, but, I do tend to rush through things, don’t I? Just me way, don’t stop to admire the view much. Some people are like that, like fireworks, or, oh I don’t know, a stick of gum. And,and at the fag end of it all, I get to be in London, taken care of instead of sent away, when by rights I should have been shot down, or shot through, or lost forever. To be sitting on a London roof in a pile of pillows? Not precisely the gulag, love, and I won’t be greedy. Em, look at me, please.”

Emily sat up and looked at her, and Tracer squeezed her hand.

“I lived long enough to find you, and to love you.That’s all that matters. I ‘ave led a bloody charmed life. I ‘ave. Truly. I could not possibly ask for more.” she grinned, “That’s a lie actually, would ‘ave loved to get all the way through to the King so as I could watch his bloody face when I refused the knighthood publicly, but,” she chuckled, “We can’t ‘ave everything.”

Emily gave a little chuckle and shook her head. “You’re awful, Lena. Happy Birthday. My prince charming.”

“And it really was, Em. It is! What do you say,” she winced as she tried to sit up a little, her body jerking her back against the back of the daybed, until Emily balanced her, “What do you say, we ‘ave Win come up with that last bottle of champagne? Toast to ourselves till midnight? Just the three of us?”

Emily nodded, the teeth poking thought on her smile.

“That’s what I’d like to see, tonight. Thank you love. Just us three, and your smile.”

The clouds and fog and too much light of London parted for a moment, just a few stars peeking through the grey and haze. They sparkled down on Tracer, who sparkled back a bit, the diamonds of the natural world. Bright against the night.

Bit of light in everything.

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sugarmaplewings-fics · 5 years ago

Text

Partners

Pairing: Bakugou x reader

Warnings: None

A/N:

Okay, so this one has a lot behind it. Technically, this is the first request I ever received (I’d say I got this one around late July?). It was 100% my intent to do all three characters, and it still is, but I got caught up in Bakugou’s and kind of konked on the other two. Also I realized how fricking long this was and thought it would be weird to have as a headcanon-y format.

I spent way too much time strategizing this (I remember literally laying in bed from like 2-4 AM rewatching episodes to get Bakugou’s fighting technique down and taking notes while also thinking about my new OC, who debuts here), but I honestly had the most fun writing this??? Like, I was high key using my brain for this and it was fun. Anyway, I hope it didn’t come out too cringey. If you want to talk to me about my OC, please please please come in my inbox, I am so happy to see you there!

I will finish this request! Sometime! When motivation re-strikes me! I’m about half-way done with Kirishima’s and I have a solid idea for Amajiki’s (different quirks).

I really hope you like this! This was new and experimental for me, and I’m pretty happy with how it turned out!

-Sugar

The class of 1-A stood in a small grouping, facing their teacher, All Might. They were preparing to begin their hero training for the day, anticipating for when the instructor would receive the go-ahead to begin class. Finally, All Might tapped a finger to the piece in his ear, a person on the other end offering confirmation that the grounds were ready.

"All right, young boys and girls," he said. "Today, we're doing some sparring practice in pairs. You will be graded on your tactic and skill."

He began to go over the general rules, which were the same as always; quirks are completely allowed, nothing dirty, he would interfere if he thought necessary. The objective was much like the sports festival where you needed to either immobilize your partner or push them out of bounds, yadda dadda da.

When he finally began listing off teams, you eagerly listened for your own last name to be read off his sheet.

"—Tokoyami and Shouji, (L/N) and Bakugou, Midoriya and—"

There it was! Your name! And a certain someone else's . . . .

Your eyes flicked around your assembled class, easily locating the blond spikes haphazardly sprouting from his head.

If it wasn't your sweet rival, Bakugou Katsuki.

The two of you were at the top of the class, constantly bumping heads on everything from test scores to hero training.

Oh, this is going to be good . . . .

You'd never fought one on one with quirks with each other before, and you already anticipated getting to know how your respective powers might clash. It wasn't as though the thought hadn't crossed your mind before—quite the opposite, in fact.

You felt considerably prepared for your mini battle with how much you'd watched him over the past months; learning his moves, how he thought, anything from what drove him forward to things that made him tick. You'd caught glimpses of Midoriya's hero notebook where he had information on all his classmates, and a part of you cockily doubted that you would even need something like that when it came to how well you knew your rival by now.

Nevertheless, you began to plot out strategies and stretch while you waited your turn, scenarios playing out in your head as you attempted to plan for any move he could try to pull against you.

Your quirk was called Panic. You could affect the fear response in someone's brain with high frequencies. Your signature attacks came from long, loud screams to make someone wet their pants, but you were also perfectly capable of making odd squeaky noises for a tasty sense of looming uneasiness in your opponent. You had learned some combat techniques, but for the most part you did better at long range; trying to immobilize the enemy enough to swoop in unexpected and secure them.

No one was wearing their hero costume, only in their gym uniforms. This would provide a slight disadvantage to you because you didn't have your directional speaker, but it wasn't the most necessary support item. You could function well enough without it.

Every now and then, you'd be knocked out of your meticulous scheming to watch some of your fellow classmates spar. There were a few pairs going at one time, but you were placed in one of the last sets, so you had the advantage of time to strategize. Eventually, however, you were called into one of the training rings, straightening and confidently adjusting your blue and white jacket.

You met Bakugou's fiery red eyes from across the way, teasingly waving at him and smirking. His gaze darted away from yours, stubbornly deciding to glue itself to the floor.

He wouldn't go easy on you. In fact, quite the contrary. You knew he'd give you everything he had and more, and you were more than prepared to do the same for him.

In a matter of minutes, your feet were planted in the loosely packed dirt of the training ring, several meters away from where Bakugou stood across from you, stretching out his arms. Your heart pounded in your chest as you waited for the signal to go, scraping the most important points you'd worked out earlier to the front of your brain.

After what felt like forever, the siren blared in your ears, causing you to tense, ready to begin your round with your explosive rival.

You shot towards him, wanting to get as close as possible. You expected he might try to stay away, keeping a distance so your quirk wouldn't affect him so much. Instead, he stood his ground, holding out his palms to you as you approached. Internally, you faltered, wondering what he was planning to do.

Nevertheless, you kept running forward, getting as close as you dared before drawing in a breath to scream and release your power. You noticed Bakugou flinch as sound began to leak from your throat, but he quickly fired off an explosion in your direction, drowning out the sound.

Of course! You internally smacked yourself. You relied on him being able to hear your screams in order for your quirk to affect him. He would have to use his explosions to drown out the sound.

Your mind began to spin, trying to formulate a new plan, when he began making an advance on you. Loud, crackling explosions danced off his hands, not horribly powerful, but boy, were they loud. You cringed at them, resisting the urge to cover your own ears to protect yourself from the noise. He kept coming closer, heat and smoke flickering over your face, causing you to take a step back, then another.

So that's his plan, you thought, taking another step in the direction of the boundary lines. He knows he can't really fight hand-to-hand, and there's no way either of us are going to admit defeat, so he's trying to push me out.

Your objective was to either knock him unconscious or chase him out of bounds, but this could be used to your favor if you timed it correctly.

Quirks are physical abilities too, you remembered hearing Midoriya say. Even Kacchan has his limits.

Push him to his limits. That's what you had to do.

You let him fire off blast after blast, keeping as far out of his reach as you could while leading him around the arena. He didn't have much choice but to keep going. If he stopped, you would be able to use your quirk on him, and you had a good chance of winning with one as powerful as yours. He simply had to keep a clear head and try to push you further towards the white boundary lines. Every now and then, he would lunge forward, trying to grab at you, and you would shriek at him, smirking as a moment of panic flashed across his face when the piercing noise slipped into his ears. This also served to make him all the angrier, lips curling into a snarl at your dominion over his emotions.

You made sure to keep your distance. You weren't wearing your hero costume, which would have helped in the sense that he wouldn't have been able to grab your mouth from under the directional speaker you wore over your mask, but you were grateful you didn't have to deal with his gauntlets.

You didn't like that he kept moving, and a small part of you was almost certain your fear and anxiety-inducing quirk would make his palms sweat even more, but there wasn't more you could pull against him. You just had to keep going until one of you exhausted yourself.

The smoke wasn't helping you. It scratched at your throat and stung your eyes. The scent of burning sugar filled the air, and you wondered how much more the both of you could take.

There it was, a wince from behind one of the black clouds, a falter in one of the fiery blasts. He was growing tired, but you knew from his expression of blank determination he wouldn't stop no matter what toll it took on his body. Anything for him to win, but you were the same way. Though he'd been focusing on the sound levels of his quirk rather than the force of each blow, it had still been taxing, and you knew that now was your chance.

The whole time, you'd been on the defensive, trying to save your voice and keep out of the way until this very moment, but now was the time of offense. You began to work the two of you over to the boundary lines, hoping to lull Bakugou into a false sense of security that he was getting you where he wanted.

Without warning, you leapt forward, going in to knock his feet from under him. If you got him on the ground, it would be easier for you to secure his hands and grab his head, which would ensure the win for you.

He snarled and leapt back. His reflexes were phenomenal, but in his moment of defense, he dropped from using his quirk. Bingo.

A deafening sliver of silence followed his motion, which you quickly filled with a piercing scream, one of the loudest you could muster.

His eyes widened and he stumbled, another explosion firing off as a flash of fear coursed through his body. You went for his feet again, and this time you wouldn't let up, pulsing high-pitched shriek after shriek to keep him on edge. He tried to keep on his toes, swinging at you almost blindly as you darted forward and dodged.

You'd learned that if you didn't do it enough, the fear and adrenaline of your enemy could work against you, heightening their senses and reflexes, and if you did it too much, your opponent might get used to your effect. Now, however, you knew to work quickly, forcing your influence into his head until he would struggle to think clearly, landing a good blow to his knees.

He crumpled forward, and you straddled yourself on top of him easily, taking his hands in one of yours behind his back and using the other to clutch at the base of his neck. You could feel his heart pounding underneath you, see his eyes rolling in his skull. The thought crossed your mind to pity him.

You loved your quirk, occasionally delighting in how easy it was to assert a certain amount of control over people. But you weren't a monster, and the idea of needlessly terrifying your classmates brought a curl to your lip in distaste. But this was your rival, Bakugou Katsuki. Maybe he deserved to be put in his place. Just a little.

You leaned forward and put your lips to his ear, letting out a final, high-frequency hum directly into his canal. You felt him seize up beneath you, hearing how his breathing changed as he tried to suck in breaths to calm himself. You wouldn't let up, however, and before long, you felt him go limp under your belly.

You stood after making sure he had slipped from consciousness, pride filling your chest. You'd done it. You'd won out over your rival.

You looked around and made eye contact with Cementoss, who had been monitoring your half of the fighting rings. He nodded at you approvingly and advanced to take Bakugou out of the ring.

You flounced back to the room where your classmates had been watching the sparring matches, allowing yourself to relish in the way everyone's eyes turned towards you.

"(L/N) shojo," All Might said. "Excellent job."

The silence of the class was cleared and everyone who was still in the room surged forward to congratulate you.

"You beat Bakugou!"

"That was amazing!"

"You really did it!"

Once everyone had settled, you excused yourself to go to the locker rooms.

On your way, you ran into Bakugou, who had since woken up from the little nap you'd forced him into.

"Oi, Bakugou," you said, the sound of your voice causing his blond head to whip around. You approached him and stuck out a hand. "Good match."

He glared at your hand and smacked it away. Why did his reaction kind of . . . hurt?

"Shut up!" he yelled. "Next time, you won't—you won't beat me so easily, mouse." He nearly choked when he had to admit that you had won against him.

"Still calling me a mouse?" you asked, tilting your head and smirking.

"You still squeak like one," he grumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Don't think I'm done with you. You might have won today, but don't get used to it."

"Oh, I think I just might," you said cockily, breezing past him to slip into the girls' locker room door.

Bakugou growled at your disappearing back. What the hell was wrong with you? More importantly, what the hell was wrong with him?

He gripped at the back of his neck where you'd grabbed him, shivering at the memory of the sensation of your lips to his ear.

He had to snap out of it. You were his enemy. The only place you should have in his mind were in thoughts of how to overcome you, how to pound you into the ground until he came out on top above you.

And yet you wouldn't leave his head, and he found his eyes chasing your form nearly every day he saw you.

Bakugou snarled to himself, snapping him out of these thoughts and pushing himself from the locker room entrances. He would find a way to beat you. He wouldn't stop until he figured out a way to do it.

He wouldn't rest until he sorted out these feelings too, whatever they were.

Bakugou's black boots clicked on the floor as he exited the building. This was only the beginning of your saga together, and the two of you refused to enter passively.

*✲ﾟ*｡⋆♡⁎*✲ﾟ*｡⋆♡

Taglist: @basicaegyo @iiminibattlehero @katsugay @nabo39 @pyrofanatic @sendhelpimstupid @sokkasangel @xoxopam4

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haliyam · 4 years ago

Text

No matter what

eren x historia; yeager bro moments (or zeke wishes lol)

Summary: The time has come for Marley to choose its new Warriors, and Eren has a decision to make. (Also, "some things never change.") Warriors AU for erehisu day.

AO3 link if you prefer to read there

Happy erehisu day! I saw this amazing erehisu art by beforelightsout on twitter where Eren and Historia are Warrior candidates + Eren became a shifter. Since it's erehisu day and everyone has come out with such wonderful stuff, I wanted to contribute somehow and write something for that AU. I've been dying of work and a covid scare so I was running on the fumes of my love for this ship and everyone else's stuff and also VIBES while writing this in the last hour, so, it's barely edited, if it even makes sense. Sorry in advance. I hope you enjoy though!

Also, for this AU (or really for the fic to work lol), my headcanon is that the war keeping the previous Warriors dragged on, so Reiner's generation don't get selected until they're this age (Historia and Eren are 17). As for Zeke... idk. Maybe Mr. Ksaver had more time too. Anyway who cares about Zeke here!!! (me I still do)

No matter what

“You know this counts as cheating.”

Eren shoots Zeke a look. They’re standing at the courtyard in HQ, watching the younger candidates wheeze through their training while Magath and his assistant instructors bark orders in the background. Days before selection, and with Zeke already holding the Beast Titan and Colt preparing to inherit, their generation doesn’t need to be put through their paces as often anymore—or maybe Commander Bruning is just letting them off the hook for the week.

They both doubt that.

Up ahead, Falco trips over an unseen pebble, and Zeke sighs.

“You don’t have to do this, you know?” he says, out of misplaced brotherly affection. Eren appreciates it, but that’s not what he needs right now. “You already have the armband.”

“This isn’t about me.”

“I know,” Zeke raises his hands in surrender, but the playful gesture doesn’t take away the scrutiny in his gaze. For all his levity, he doesn’t once glance away. Eren knows he’s seeing their father in him, trying to decide whether that’s a positive or a negative.

“So?”

Zeke scratches the back of his ear. “You already know you’re in the running for the Attack Titan and the Armored Titan. Porco and Reiner are on your heels for the Armor. As for the Attack Titan…”

Zeke tilts his head in a shrug. Eren exhales, and then nods. “Thanks.”

His brother peers at him, a small smile curling at the corners of his mouth. “Thanks what?”

Eren is grateful, reassured, but not that grateful. “What am I, ten? I’m not calling you big bro.”

Zeke lets out a long-suffering sigh this time, the kind he uses to guilt trip the others into helping him with paperwork at his age. “You used to be such a cute kid.” He’s quick enough to reach over and ruffle Eren’s hair, and then withdraw before he can smack his hand away. “Now you’re all grown up.”

Eren rolls his eyes, but claps a hand to his brother’s arm in earnest. “Thanks, Zeke.”

The man gives him a thumbs up, and Eren belatedly catches a sliver of gold pass one of the windows behind the courtyard ahead of the other girls. His feet take him forward before he can bid his brother goodbye.

“Go on,” Zeke says, right as Eren catches himself almost sheepishly. He goes to her without another thought.

There’s no big to-do when it comes to the selection process. Apart from their generation of candidates, there’s only Zeke, standing to the side with the other instructors who assist the captain, while Magath and Commander Bruning themselves stand together, as imposing as the day they first met.

Maybe a little less now that they’ve earned their stripes, training for a decade with the extension of the war in the South, but Eren can feel the pressure of this moment bearing down on him.

The others have been chosen. They stand at the other side of the room, putting on their most dignified expressions and trying to contain their shock at their commander’s question.

“There remain two Titans, Eren Yeager,” said Commander Bruning seconds, maybe a minute ago. Eren’s mind is still reeling. “Which of them, in your estimation, best suits you?”

“Me, sir?” he had asked dumbly in response. Bruning had only nodded.

It isn’t supposed to happen like this. From the group ready to receive their red armbands, he feels Marcel’s eyes burning into his side. Marcel, who was pulled aside by Magath and Bruning earlier today. Eren expected the same treatment—not this. Is this a test?

Porco and Reiner stand to his left, behind him because he’s stepped forward, and he feels hazel daggers ready to strike at his back. He doesn’t care about them right now. It’s the blue to his right that envelops his all. The air is replete with Historia’s expectation, drowning out all the others in the room. He feels weightless in it, a drop in the ocean that is her existence to him.

Eren knows he could be more. If he gives the right answer, she might just see him as more.

But Historia isn’t the ocean to these people. She’s a tool, or she could be, and he cannot let that happen. Eren remembers the ground under his feet and peers into the commander’s eyes.

“If I may, sir, I believe Braun has always had the most endurance among the candidates,” he says clearly, just like he’s rehearsed with Marcel. He tries not to imagine the way Historia’s stomach drops. “Nowadays he takes Leonhart’s hits like they’re almost nothing. And for myself—I’ve come to specialize in close quarters combat. The Attack Titan would suit me best.”

Reiner sighs in relief not far from him. Porco and Historia are utterly silent. He can’t even hear them breathing.

Bruning and Magath seem not to notice. They only exchange glances, and if they think anything of Eren answering more than what was asked of him, they say nothing.

After a few nods, Bruning turns toward them with pride. “It’s as we thought. I see no reason why we should delay for pointless suspense or further deliberation.” With a small motion of the commander’s hand, Reiner steps forward. “Congratulations, Yeager. Braun. You have earned the honor of becoming the new sword and shield of our great motherland Marley.”

The room erupts with excitement as soon as the Marleyans are surely gone from the hallway. Eren is already headed for the door when Porco tries to grab him by the shoulder.

“Eren, what the hell? You know this asshole isn’t better than me!”

Reiner sneers at him from behind before Eren can even shrug him off. “Apparently the brass knew different, Pock. Don’t take it out on Eren—he only affirmed what they were already thinking.”

Porco growls, turning on Reiner instead, which means it’s going to be one of those afternoons. Eren is happy to turn back for the door—he feels bright blue trained on him now, and it’s all he can do not to scamper for the exit.

Clutching the cigarette pack in his uniform pocket, he manages to get as far as two floors down before Historia catches up. She’s been calling out to him since she gave chase.

“Hey!” she yells. He was stupid to head for their usual spot. There’s a corridor in this building that’s gone unused for a while that they found, once, when it was their turn for cleaning duty. It’s been theirs since then, and one of the windows has the best view of the city right outside the internment zone’s walls—and the zone entrance itself. So they don’t forget what they’re supposed to do.

“Eren!”

She’s starting to lose her breath, unable to match his longer strides. His footsteps start to slow, right as they reach that window. He turns around when hers stop too.

Hands still in his pockets, he stares down at her. “What is it?”

Historia glares at him, dignified even as she tries to catch her breath. “What the hell are you doing?”

Eren fishes out the cigarette pack from his pocket and shows her. It’s really Zeke’s, but he figured he’d need it after today. He isn’t wrong.

She scoffs. “Since when do you smoke?”

“I’m going to be a shifter,” he shrugs. “It doesn’t matter much now, right?”

Historia shakes her head, smart enough to ignore the diversion. “Eren, what the hell was that? I thought… I thought we understood each other.” Always to the point. “I thought you and I would become Warriors together. Change things from the inside and convince the others to do the same.”

The truth of her confusion, her frustration and growing anger pulls at him. She’s everything she didn’t used to be, back when she was still playing the perfect little Warrior who unnerved him so much. It’s exactly why he needs to keep a straight face.

“Ah… yeah. Sorry about that,” he murmurs, his tone completely level, fingers pinching at the cigarette pack in his fist. “I just gave it some thought, and… I think Reiner would be better as the Armor, not me. So—that left me as the Attack Titan.”

The pain in her eyes is almost too much for him. If only they were cold, just like she’d been the moment he saw her true self for the first time. That way he could crystallize himself in them and shatter instead of having to face her like this. But she hasn’t been cold for a long while, and the warmth in her gaze even after his betrayal does him in.

“You’re lying,” she realizes the moment his gaze flickers away from hers. Eren curses himself for it. “You once said you could always tell when I was being fake. You think, after everything we’ve been through, that I wouldn’t know it with you either?”

Eren bites his tongue and forces himself to meet those eyes again. He reminds himself why he did it. It’s all that keeps his hands steady as he carelessly flicks the cigarette pack open and reaches for a stick. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Historia swipes her hand at his, knocking the pack from his grasp. It hits the ground with a pathetic smack. “Don’t lie to me, Eren!” she says, pleads even when she’s angry, because they’re friends, aren’t they? If only that were all she is. “You know I deserve more than that. Why are you doing this!? We were going to become Warriors together. We were supposed to have thirteen years together!”

She’s free to vent her frustrations in the hallway like they always have with each other, voice shaky and shakier still as the grief escapes her. By the time she mentions that number, Historia is on the verge of tears, but she blinks them away with the fury that remains. How unlike him, who wants to fold more than anything, feeling like the slightest breeze, the slightest word from her can knock him over. He can only stare at the ground as he swallows down the emotion rising in his throat, and that’s when he realizes it. She’s right, like she always is. He can’t stand lying to her.

The prospect of having to utter his next words terrifies him more than the idea of paradise. But he manages it, because she deserves to know the truth.

“You know why,” he says, trembling only at the last word. Shamefully, face red with self-disgust, he lifts his eyes to hers, fearing the worst.

She catches his meaning. Of course she does—she knows him best. He expects her to leap at him, punch him, anything that will make the guilt of his selfishness ebb even just a little, but she only stands there. Shocked, and then her cheeks flush in only the most beautiful way. He already knows he’ll never forget how the light from the windows illuminates her face like this.

But then her brows furrow, shoulders raising angrily, and she stomps her foot on the ground. “Am I supposed to be grateful for that?” she snaps. “Should I say thank you for making this decision without me? What about what I wanted?”

“No!” Eren stammers, hands up in submission as if that will placate her. “Of course not! I didn’t do this for your gratitude!”

“Then why did you do it?” Her voice is still raised, but her tone is resigned. Historia knows that even if she gets the answer, Marley’s decision is set in stone.

That’s the thought Eren takes comfort in. The tears that dampen his eyes are tears of relief, no matter his shame, no matter his remorse. And here he thought he’d grown out of this when he turned sixteen.

Pressing his lips into his teeth in an attempt to maintain his composure, Eren lets his gaze drop again. “I want you to live,” he admits, so quietly she almost misses it. “I want you to grow up and have a family like you wished you could, if you weren’t pushed into this when we were children. Get married, have children you’re free to love the way…”

He trails off. The last thing he wants to do is mention her mother. He knows she understands when she doesn’t press him to finish.

“I want you to grow old,” he continues. “Live past thirty. Get to fifty, seventy… Then you can be as grumpy as you want to be without anyone saying it doesn’t suit you. I want you to be happy.”

A slight hiccup leaves his throat, one Historia misses only because she does the same. Eren swallows it down, but his nose is already stuffy. When he looks at her again, he’s the most serious he has ever been, and it’s no performance. He reaches for her hands.

“I’m not prepared to sacrifice your life for our cause,” he confesses. Eren imagines he could bear never to look out that window and see the walls torn down, the way they’ve dreamt together for the past few years, if it means she will live to see it herself long after he’s gone. He’s not articulate enough to say it, his ears and his throat so full with everything he wants to tell her in this moment that he’s speechless. How can he be otherwise, when she’s looking at him like that? All he can blurt out is, “I’m sorry.”

A silence brews between them. Eren wonders if it’s time to step away, to leave her to her thoughts. Maybe he can still beg for forgiveness later.

He loosens his grip on her hands, meaning to wipe his eyes, and that’s when she seizes his. “You stupid crybaby,” she murmurs quietly, fondly, “do you really think I’d be happy knowing you sacrificed yourself for me? Why do you think I promised you that we’d complete our mission within the next thirteen years?”

Eren can only look dumbfounded.

“I wanted to spend them with you, you idiot,” she gives him, even as her voice quivers with the same desperate longing he’s felt ache in his chest for as long as he can remember now. “I would have been happier spending thirteen years with you, fighting together, than sitting out the fight and living the rest of my life without you. Isn’t that what we agreed on? To work toward what we promised? Together? What did you think I meant by that?”

Eren opens his mouth, body drained of the cool facade he’s found solace in the last few weeks since he came to terms with his greed.

“Historia,” he breathes. Remembers to. “You—?”

She’s had enough of him, he can tell by the look on her face—but he’s wrong again, because Historia grabs him by the collar and pulls him down to her, meeting his mouth with hers in a bid to help him see the truth. His fingers find her face on instinct, lips parting as they kiss so he can partake of her further.

A moment, a hum from her and something stirring deep inside him, and Historia pulls away as if in punishment. She’s flush again, glaring until those blue eyes soften at his stupid expression.

“Get it yet?” she asks.

His thumbs slide across her cheek, a small grin pulling at his mouth. She really is the ocean, Eren thinks, and dives in again, drinking of those soft lips, drowning in the scent of her hair, the feeling of her hands sliding down his chest. She’s everything.

What feels like both a moment and an eon passes as they stand there, him bent down as he kisses her, her tiptoed to grant it to him, until they eventually part. Only a little, because they can’t bear the distance just yet. Just so their foreheads are pressed together.

“I’m sorry,” Eren murmurs, before he’s lost in her again. “I didn’t know.”

Historia’s lashes flutter as she blinks away her own tears. This doesn’t change the consequences of the decision he’s made on his own, but she knows she can’t give him up, either. When she opens her eyes, she’s more resolute than he’s ever felt in his life. “There has to be a way,” she tells him. “Go to Paradis. Retake the Founding Titan… and come back. Then we’ll do as we promised.”

“Change the curse,” he replies, like they’ve planned, looking out at the stars from his roof in the zone. “Free our people.”

Historia nods. “No matter what.”

“No matter what,” he agrees.

She smiles, and he can’t help that the way her lips purse when she tries to stifle it moves him. Eren draws closer—

“There you are!”

—and nearly stumbles as he and Historia untangle their limbs from one another, practically standing at attention when they hear his brother’s voice and Marcel’s surprised ah.

Unfortunately, not even the most perfect posture can erase the affection still blooming in their cheeks, or the slight swell of their lips resulting from that affection. Or the smiles they just can’t help for one another.

Zeke squints. Also unfortunately, nothing gets past this asshole. “Oh, so it finally happened?”

Marcel glances between the two of them, coming closer. “Seriously?”

Zeke snorts, palm open to the new Jaw. “Pay up, Galliard.”

Marcel scoffs. “Come on. Is it really fair if you had inside information?”

“Are you kidding? My baby brother tells me squat.”

“Oh. Yeah, I mean I guess I understand that…”

Historia lets out a very audible sigh. “Can we help you?”

Marcel meets Eren’s gaze, gratitude and apology in his smile, while Zeke tries on his new Warchief role for size. He clears his throat.

“Now that Porco and Reiner have settled down, Bruning and Magath want to see us again. Discuss our steps going forward, run tests on the new Warriors… The works. Time to go.”

Marcel sighs. “Talk about eager.”

“All right,” Eren says, finally, because he prefers serious Zeke to his annoying brother right now. He feels vulnerable enough, and he doesn’t care to be that way in front of these two. Or anyone else but her, really. “Lead the way.”

Zeke and Marcel turn to leave, starting to argue the terms of their wager as they disappear around the corner.

Historia and Eren look to each other. A shy smile finds its way to his face as he offers her his hand.

“By the way, Eren,” Zeke pokes his head into the corridor again, finger waving at the mess of sticks on the floor, “you owe me a new pack of cigarettes. And clean that up.”

Eren groans. “Shut up!”

“But that was my favorite brand! The things I do for love,” his brother whines, to Marcel’s quiet chuckling, and finally they leave for good.

“Sorry about that,” Eren mutters. Not that Historia hasn’t seen him like this before.

She only laughs as she accepts his hand. When she shakes her head, smiling as she pulls him forward, he feels like they might actually do it. That they might be able to find a way past those thirteen years.

And even if they don’t, he can’t feel regret. As long as they’ve managed to accomplish their mission… No, as long as he can ensure that Historia lives on, he’ll pay any price.

No matter what.

I'll take any opportunity to give Marcel more screentime. Well, I actually debated with myself whether it would be Marcel or Bertholdt in the last scene, but Marcel made more sense so that Zeke could whine about being an older brother to someone who could relate. (And yes, Marcel and Eren made a deal to have Reiner become the Armor. I’M SORRY REINER)

Writing Eren's parts made me realize how much I'm in love with Historia??? Like I've always loved her but I guess I realized I'm IN love with her XD Also my hc is Eren here likes to think he's the strong one protecting them both or he at least likes to project that image to the others, but really he takes his cues from Historia who is much stronger emotionally and mentally imo. Idk, I just think she's the boss in this relationship (though of course they are able to be vulnerable with one another which is the biggest thing for me).

Anyway. Thank you for reading! Happy erehisu day!

P.S. I forgot to mention that 'Commander Bruning' in my hc is the guy who tells Magath that it's a good idea to use child soldiers as their Warriors. I imagine he was in charge of a certain number of Eldian soldiers, including the Warrior program, while Magath was the 'captain' who directly managed the kids until his and Bruning's eventual promotions when they were able to conquer nations with such success.

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musette22 · 5 years ago

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As it's Chris' birthday today, what's your Evanstan headcon for how they are spending it? We don't know if Chris is still in LA (as far as I know), do you think he might be back in Boston to be with his family? That would mean Seb could easily visit him now that the lockdown in NYC is over. Or would he fly to LA to celebrate with his bf? (He hasn't been seen in NYC in the last couple of days either, right?) Or will the only hang out virtually? I would love to know what you are imagining 😊

Hello darling!! So yesterday, I said I probably wasn’t going to write any Evanstan for a while, but then I woke up this morning and had a lovely little Evanstan headcanon fantasy about Chris’s birthday - as you do - and then I thought screw it, let’s write this thing. So here’s a little drabble (well, it should’ve been a drabble) about how Chris might have spent his birthday 😘

A/N: This is just a nonsensical little fantasy scenario that doesn’t actually make any sense, but the idea made me happy, so I hope it’ll make you guys happy too! Don’t look too closely, please, there’s some overlap with previous fics and this was all written very quickly and hasn’t been edited properly because it’s late where I am and I need to sleep lmao 🙈 Sorry about that!

Happy birthday, Mr. America

*********

Chris likes surprises, generally speaking.

Not the nasty kind, like when a part unexpectedly falls through, or someone gets angry at him out of the blue and he doesn’t know what he’s done wrong. But he likes it when exciting things happen and shake things up a bit, like when he’s having a lazy day alone at home, and a friend suddenly shows up on his doorstep to tell him, change of plans, we’re going bungee jumping. When that happens, Chris will happily drop whatever he’s doing and jump in the car, because that’s the kind of thing that makes him feel alive.

So when he arrives at the Evans’ family house today, on his birthday, and is greeted by a chorus of Surprise! and Happy Birthdays from a bunch of people he hasn’t seen ages - literal years, in some cases - Chris is delighted and touched; excited to see familiar faces and catch up with his friends and family.

That excited feeling lasts for a solid few hours, until his Aunt Melanie corners him and starts telling Chris about her Pilates instructor. This isn’t the first time she’s tried to set Chris up with whichever wonderful girl she’s most recently met and feels would be perfect for Chris, but this time she’s really hammering on about how she just can’t understand why a good-looking, successful young man like him hasn’t found a wife yet. She no doubt means well, but that doesn’t mean Chris is about to go on a blind date with her Pilates instructor.

When he’s finally managed to excuse himself under the pretense of needing a bathroom break, he sneaks off to the back of the house, to his dad’s old study. As soon as the door closes behind him, he lets out a sigh of relief and leans back against it for a moment, catching his breath. He loves his family to bits, but there’s no denying they’re a lot. There’s a sofa in the study, a wide, navy blue one, and Chris lies down on it, stretching himself to his full length. He closes his eyes, hoping to nap for a couple of minutes, but no dice. His aunt’s comments play in his head on a loop, causing something uneasy to stir in his stomach.

The thing is, she’s right. He should already be married and have a couple of cute kids to dote on. He’s wanted to have a family and settle down for a long time, ever since he got done with sowing his wild oats and calmed down a little. He’s the long-term relationship kind, and there had been a few girlfriends with whom he thought he definitely could see a future.

That had been Before, though. Before Sebastian Stan had waltzed into his life and upended everything Chris thought he knew for certain, complicating everything in the best and worst possible way. After the initial shock of developing feelings for another guy wore off, Chris had simply accepted his infatuation as a fact of life, and it had become something he carried with him always, but never acted on or even spoke of. He wouldn’t know where to start. It was clear there was something between them, though. The way Sebastian looked at him sometimes… It had to mean something. For the longest time, they’d danced around each other, always just shy of outright flirting, and there had been a few times when Chris really thought something might finally happen between them. But it never did.

And now it never would. They’ve hardly even seen each other, over the past year, after they stopped working together. Sure, they kept in touch from time to time, but there is only so much keeping in touch two work friends can plausibly do before it gets weird or necessarily has to turn into something else. And Chris thought he’d accepted that, more or less.

But then last week, he and Scott had gotten drunk together – like really, stupidly drunk. At around 3 in the morning, Scott had put on The First Avenger so he could make fun of Chris in his skin tight leggings, and then suddenly Sebastian’s face had been right there on his TV screen: larger than life, young and handsome like he’d been when Chris first felt that tug in his gut when he’d looked at him.

And Chris, whose brain-to-mouth filter unfortunately ceases to exist entirely whenever he’s had too much to drink, had just blurted out, “I think I’m in love with him.”

Initially, Scott had thought Chris meant that Steve was in love with Bucky.

“Well, clearly,” he’d slurred. “They’re soooo gay, oh my god.”

And instead of using the misunderstanding to cover up for his unfortunate drunken slip-up, Chris had slowly shook his head and corrected, “No, with Sebastian. ‘M in love with Sebastian. Have been for a long time, I think.”

He’d passed out not long after, possibly his subconscious’ way of trying to protect himself against the barrage of questions from Scott that Chris had been in no state to answer in that moment. Inevitably, Scott had tried to talk to him about it the next day, but Chris – hungover, embarrassed and annoyed with himself for opening his big mouth and spilling this secret that he’d managed to keep for close to a decade – had told Scott to leave it and that he didn’t want to talk about it. Nothing was ever going to come of this now anyway, so it was much better if they could all just forget it ever happened.

Scott and he had gone to dinner at their mom’s that night, and of course, Lisa had instantly sensed something was off. Unfortunately, Chris never did stand a chance in hell against his mother, so when she took him to aside after dinner and outright asked him what was wrong, he’d had no choice but to spill the beans. Besides, if he didn’t, Scott would probably have found a way to guilt him into telling Lisa, eventually - they’d always shared everything with her, after all.

Lisa had been so loving and understanding, just like Chris knew she would, and despite the aching in his chest, he was grateful and a little bit relieved to know he wasn’t keeping something this significant from her any longer. But in the end, it didn’t change anything. Of course, Lisa had asked him why he didn’t just go for it, told him to just go for it, call Sebastian and ask him out for dinner, but Chris had dismissed all her suggestions. It just wasn’t going to happen. Certainly not now, not anymore.

She’d dropped it, eventually, but Chris is under no illusions that he’s heard the last of it.

Since then, he’d tried to put the whole fiasco out of his mind, but then Aunt Melanie started badgering him about his marital status and it had all come rushing back again.

Just when Chris about to give up on trying to nap and head outside to get some fresh air instead, there’s a knock at the door.

Chris sighs, rubbing his eyes. “Come in,” he calls, not bothering to get up because it’s probably his mom coming to check on him. “Hey, mom,” he says, when Lisa’s head does appear around the door.

“Hi, sweetheart,” she replies, smiling. She opens the door a little wider. “There’s someone here to see you.”

“Oh?” Chris says, sitting up a little straighter for whatever friend or family member his mom wants him to meet so urgently, but then Lisa steps aside to reveal –

Sebastian.

Sebastian is here. In his mom’s house. Standing right there, looking a little apprehensive and unsure, but still so fucking gorgeous it makes Chris’s heart stop for a moment inside his chest, before it starts up again at double speed.

“Hey, Chris,” Sebastian says, and it’s his voice, he’s really here, in Chris’s dad’s old study, speaking actual words at him.

What the fuck.

Chris gets to his feet so fast he feels a bit lightheaded, lightly swaying on his feet before he manages to get some semblance of a reply. "Hi. What- Sebastian. What are you doing here?"

Sebastian’s eyes flicker to Lisa for a moment, looking at her a little uncertainly. She gives him an encouraging nod.

“Um,” Sebastian starts, turning his eyes back to Chris again. “Lisa, your mom, invited me to your surprise birthday party.” He licks his lips nervously. “So, yeah, happy birthday. And, um. Surprise.” The last word is accompanied by a dorky little wave, and Chris is just. Speechless.

Literally, can’t form any words speechless, which is highly unusual for him. When he just keeps standing there, staring a Sebastian like he’s some kind of fata morgana, Lisa rolls her eyes and nudges Sebastian with her elbow.

“Well, go on, then,” she prompts, nodding in Chris’s direction. “He won’t bite.” Then, the look in her eyes turns mischievous, and Chris has half a second to think oh no, before she adds, “Unless you like that sort of thing, of course, but then he'd ask first. I raised him well.”

Sebastian makes a strangled sound, but starts towards him nonetheless, and before he really knows what’s happening, Chris is holding Sebastian in his arms. Holding him in his arms and burying his face in the crook of his neck and breathing him in. Sebastian’s arms go around him, too, a little tentative at first, but growing tighter, more secure, the longer the hug lasts.

And it lasts, much longer than a casual happy birthday hug between friends is supposed to last, but Chris can’t for the life of him bring himself to let go. He knows he’s clinging, that he’s got his nose pressed to the spot below Sebastian’s ear and that’s probably far too intimate, but Sebastian’s arms around are wound tightly around Chris’s waist and his cheek is presses to the side of Chris’s face, and he’s not letting go either.

Finally, after what feels simultaneously like forever and the blink of an eye, Sebastian inhales shakily, his chest expanding against Chris’s. With Herculean effort, Chris makes himself pull away. But, of course, that brings with it the complication of being able to see Sebastian’s face, flustered and glowing, eyes shining with something unnameable. They’re so close then, their faces only an inch or so apart, and when Sebastian’s eyes flicker down to Chris’s mouth for a split second, Chris’s restraint breaks.

He lunges forward, and Sebastian does the same, and their mouths crash together awkwardly and suddenly, they’re kissing. Really, actually kissing.

Chris’s hands fly to Sebastian’s face, holding it like it’s something precious, causing Sebastian to make a small, desperate sound that reverberates throughout Chris’s entire body. When he licks at the seam of Sebastian’s lips, Sebastian parts them immediately, letting him in, and Chris is drowning. Drowning in the kiss, in Sebastian’s taste, his smell, the little sighs he’s making against Chris’s lips, like he’s just as overwhelmed and stupefied and happy as Chris is, while they cling to each other like they’re each scared the other’s going to disappear if they dare to let up for just one second.

Eventually, though, they have to break apart for air. Chris presses their foreheads together, unwilling to put any more distance between them than is strictly necessary, still breathing the same air. When Chris eventually opens his eyes, he finds Sebastian looking back at him in a way that makes his knees feel suddenly weak.

"Hi," Seb says, voice low and husky.

"Hey," Chris replies, his hands on either side of Sebastian’s face, thumbs idly caressing his cheekbones.

Sebastian giggles, a light, happy sound that makes his nose do that scrunchy thing it does, and Chris wants to die. He groans, pulling Sebastian back in by the back of his neck –

And then Lisa clears her throat. Sebastian startles; he’d evidently forgotten she was still there, or maybe assumed she’d have left to give them their privacy, but that just goes to show Sebastian doesn’t know Lisa very well – yet.

"Well,” Lisa says, a grin in her voice. “I'll leave you two to it then, let me know if you need anything.” She pauses, before cheekily adding, “Anything at all."

“Yes, thank you, mom,” Chris says quickly, keen to spare Sebastian any further embarrassment. Sebastian’s hiding his face in Chris’s chest as it is, arms still wound around his waist, and Chris is literally about to pass out from how fucking cute that is.

Holding up a placating hand, Lisa finally retreats, closing the door behind her.

Once they’re alone, Chris steers Sebastian towards the couch, sitting down and pulling him into his lap. Sebastian lets himself be guided, straddling Chris’s thighs and giving him a coy look through his eyelashes. Chris blows out a slow breath to center himself a little, bringing up his hands to settle on Sebastian’s waist.

He knows they’ll need to talk about this at some point, but right now he can’t think of a single way to express what he’s feeling, and what this means to him. Right now, all he can do is stare at Sebastian in wonder, relishing finally getting to look at him the way he’s always wanted to: unabashedly, fondly, and very appreciative of exactly how tempting Sebastian’s lips look – especially after having been thoroughly kissed. By him.

“Fuck,” Chris breathes, overwhelmed, leaning in again to catch those pretty pink lips in another kiss.

Sebastian responds beautifully, opening up right away, melting into him. His arms wind around Chris’s shoulders, fingers scratching gently through the hair on the back of Chris’s head, making him shiver.

It’s sweet, at first; lips sliding together lazily, slow and lush, but eventually, the kisses turn a little dirtier, with nipping teeth and teasing tongues. When Sebastian bites Chris’s bottom lip a bit too hard, pulling on it, Chris literally goes cross-eyed for a second. The hand that found its way into Sebastian’s hair tightens instinctively, pulling his head back just a little.

“Oh,” Sebastian breathes, eyelids fluttering, and Chris instantly feels all his blood rushing south.

He can’t believe it. He can’t believe he has Sebastian here, in his lap, looking like innocence and sin wrapped into one, looking at him through heavy lidded eyes like it’s Chris who’s something to be desired. And Chris wants. He wants so bad, with every fiber of his being, to have Sebastian right there and then, but he has just enough presence of mind left to know that they can’t rush this, can’t make any rash decisions they might later regret if they don’t talk about what’s happening first.

Words still seem impossible, however, so instead, Chris takes one of Sebastian’s hands in his and presses a kiss to the center his palm, hoping to convey with that one gesture everything he wants to say but can’t.

When he looks back up, Sebastian blinks at him, his eyes wide and stunned, before he suddenly grabs Chris’s face between his hands and starts planting breathless kisses on his cheeks, his eyelids, his forehead, and even his nose. Chris lets himself be kissed, basks in it, feeling like his heart might burst, and when Sebastian finally presses his lips to his mouth, Chris seizes the opportunity to deepen the kiss. Despite Chris’s best intentions, it turns heated again in no time. Without his permission, his hands slide under Sebastian’s shirt, stroking the smooth, warm skin of his back, while Sebastian mouths at Chris’s jaw, then trails a path of kisses down the column of his neck.

“Seb,” Chris groans, hands tightening convulsively on Sebastian’s waist. “Sebastian, wait.”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” Sebastian pants, lifting his head to look down at him. He’s disheveled, his hair a mess, pupils blown, his lips red and a little raw from mouthing at Chris’s beard. He looks stunning.

“Jesus, you’re beautiful,” Chris says honestly, touching Sebastian’s left cheek.

Sebastian ducks his head turning his face into Chris’s palm, but he’s smiling, which makes Chris smile, too, then they’re just smiling at each other like a couple of dorks.

Chris shifts their positions to get more comfortable, tugging at Sebastian until they’re both lying on the couch on their sides, face to face. Pulling him closer, into his chest, Chris swings a leg over both of Sebastian’s, and Sebastian takes the hint immediately, snuggling into Chris and tucking his head under his chin so they’re full on cuddling.

“Best fucking birthday present ever,” Chris mutters into Sebastian’s hair, his hand tracing idle patters on Sebastian’s upper arm. In reply, Sebastian presses a kiss to Chris’s chest, over his heart.

Somehow, they snooze for a little while, just drifting in and out of consciousness, neither of them seeming to want to untangle themselves from the other, until after an indeterminate amount of time, there’s a soft knock at the door.

Chris hums questioningly in reply, not wanting to wake Sebastian, and the door opens cautiously. Lisa pokes her head in again, and the moment she sees them, all wrapped around each other like that, she covers her mouth with her hands, cooing softly.

“Happy Birthday, baby,” she whispers, her eyes shining with affection and pride.

“Thanks, mom,” Chris whispers back, blinking back tears. “Love you.”

From where he’s half asleep on Chris’s chest, Sebastian murmurs, “Love you, too.”

#evanstan #rpf #my fic #or something like it #don't know what this is #happy birthday chris #Anonymous #the keep reading tag is ducked #sorry about that guys #:((

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remedialpotions · 5 years ago

Text

An Artistic Rendering, part 2

I couldn’t stop myself. (But also, I had a lot of fun writing this so... here. Have it.)

Wednesday night art classes were typically followed by a casual dinner at a nearby restaurant. Usually, Hermione enjoyed this post-class debrief session with her mum, but that had been under normal circumstances, when they’d been working on drawings of flowers or cats or bowls of fruit. Tonight, Hermione was not totally sure how she would tolerate sitting across from her mother for an entire meal, nor if she would ever be able to look her in the eye again.

“So, what do you think you want to order?” asked Mum cheerfully, opening up her menu. “I’m rather hungry, aren’t you? Maybe we ought to order a starter - the bruschetta here is supposed to be excellent.”

“Sure,” Hermione said, staring blankly into her own menu. Words like ‘carbonara’ and ‘pomodoro’ and ‘rigatoni’ floated meaninglessly in front of her. “Whatever you want.”

“Ooh, let’s get some wine, too,” Mum added. Had Hermione possessed the wherewithal to look at her, she would have been goggling in disbelief. How on earth was she so cheerful after what had just transpired? How was she, too, not completely disturbed? “How about Chianti? I never know what’s supposed to ‘pair well’ with something else, I just always get what I like-”

“Great,” interjected Hermione, eyes fixed on a description for chicken marsala. “Sure. Whatever.”

Mum set down her menu; in her periphery, Hermione sensed her leaning curiously toward her. “What’s going on, dear? Are you all right?”

“‘What’s going on?’” Hermione repeated back, incredulous. “‘Am I all right?’”

“Well-” Mum blinked, taken aback. “I know there were a couple other drawings that the instructor liked better, but she still thought yours was rather good - and you’ve always been better at things like science and maths anyway-”

“It’s not that.”

Just as Mum opened her mouth to inquire further, a young woman in a crisp white blouse and black pants arrived at their table. “Good evening, ladies,” she greeted them. “My name is Nicola and I’ll be your server this evening. May I get you started with something to drink?”

Mum ordered the bottle of Chianti (Hermione privately thought they might need more than one by the time the night was over) and the bruschetta, and Nicola flounced away.

“Mum,” Hermione said, once she was sure that their server was out of earshot. “You drew a picture of Dad.”

“Well, of course I did.” Her voice was infuriatingly casual. “He was the obvious subject, wasn’t he?”

“So you don’t think that was awkward for me at all?”

“Yours was of Ron,” Mum pointed out, leaving Hermione to briefly wonder how she was possibly related to someone so level-headed. “I’m certainly not interested in seeing my future son-in-law like that.”

The discomfort of the evening was dulled, at least momentarily, by this implication that she would be marrying Ron. While they were not yet engaged - Hermione was in no rush, and perfectly happy to cohabitate - she was also quite certain that she would be spending her life with Ron, and it was nice to know that her mum was so certain of it too.

Though, perhaps that made the events of the evening even more bizarre.

“That’s different,” replied Hermione finally.

“How, exactly?”

“He’s not in his fifties, for one-”

“One day he will be,” said Mum, “and I’m sure when that day comes, you’ll find him just as attractive as you do now-”

“Oh my God,” groaned Hermione, squeezing her eyes shut against the barrage of unwelcome mental images that her mum had just conjured up for her.

“Well, really.” Hermione forced herself to open her eyes, only to see a knowing, almost smug sort of look on her mum’s face (perhaps they had more in common than she thought). “Am I meant to believe that this was the first and only time you’ve ever seen it?”

“Please stop-”

“And don’t think we don’t know what happened in Australia.”

Before Hermione could inquire further about this - Australia was a topic that almost never arose between her and her parents, for obvious reasons - Nicola returned with a bottle of wine in one hand and two glasses in the other. The instant the wine was poured, Hermione seized upon her glass and drank deeply from it.

“What were you saying about Australia?” Hermione asked, once she had stopped to catch her breath.

“Just that it was clear what had… transpired between the two of you.”

Hermione paused, considering this, hoping her face was not giving anything away. It was true that she and Ron had had sex for the first time in Australia, just days before locating her parents and restoring their memories. And she did not expect her mum to be under any illusions about the nature of her relationship with Ron; they lived together, and before that, she had been quite unabashed about spending the night at his. But it was one thing to know, and quite another to discuss it.

“You could tell?”

“A mother always knows,” said Mum blithely around her own, more reserved sip of wine. “And really, it was just a matter of time. I always knew that.”

“You did?”

“It was always clear to me, and to your dad, that you had a certain connection with him,” said Mum. She had grown thoughtful now, introspective. “Actually, I imagine it was clear to everyone but the pair of you at times.”

“You’re right about that.”

“It’s why we were always happy to let you spend summers with his family, or spend your Christmas at Hog - at school,” she finished lamely, eyes darting around the restaurant. “You had such trouble fitting in when you were younger, and we were so happy that you found someone who… who understands you, the way he does.”

Hermione nodded, thankful that Nicola had swept over to them with a plate of bruschetta, because she was at a rare loss for words. She always knew her parents had liked Ron, and they’d made no secret of their gratefulness that she had found friends at last in him and Harry. But she hadn’t known that they had seen the depth of their relationship, or understood its uniqueness. Most people questioned what she and Ron saw in each other… but her parents had always known.

“And he really must love you,” Mum went on, helping herself to a piece of toasted bread piled high with chopped tomato, fresh basil, and grated parmesan. “To have done what he did for you.”

Myriad events flashed through Hermione’s mind: Ron, at twelve, vomiting up slugs; at thirteen, telling off Professor Snape; at fourteen, begrudgingly pinning an SPEW badge to his robes; at eighteen, offering himself up for torture in exchange for her. Posing starkers for a figure drawing ranked rather low on his running list of self-sacrifices, and yet it was not lost on Hermione how lucky they were that this was now their biggest concern.

“You’re right,” replied Hermione, taking her own slice of bruschetta. “He really does.”

***

Ron was at the sink, scrubbing a sponge over a dinner plate, when Hermione walked through the door of their flat. “Hi,” Hermione greeted him brightly, approaching him in search of a quick kiss hello. “I’ve brought leftover spag bol if you want it.”

“You know I do.” Ron shut off the faucet and picked up a small towel to dry his hands, then bent to touch his lips to Hermione’s. “A departure from your usual, innit?”

“I didn’t want anything too fancy,” replied Hermione, handing the styrofoam box to Ron, who immediately opened it to peer inside. “I was a bit put off my appetite to be honest with you.”

“Uh oh.” Ron fished a fork out of a drawer. “Dare I ask how it went?”

“You were very well-received,” Hermione assured him, making him grin as he twisted strands of pasta around his fork. “But erm…”

“Yes?”

“My mum… she, er…”

“Oh, no.” Ron paused with his fork in mid-air. “She didn’t have… comments, did she?”

“She did, actually, but that’s not the problem. She…” Hermione waited while Ron chewed his mouthful of pasta. Unlike her, his appetite only increased during times of distress. “She drew my dad.”

To her surprise, Ron burst into raucous laughter. “Yeah, I expected that she would have done.”

“You could have warned me!”

“And you could have warned me that a group of twenty people were going to see my todger before you had me starkers in the sitting room,” Ron grinned, “but you didn’t, did you?”

Though she was outwardly scowling at him, Hermione had to work to keep a smile off her face. “Again, it’s not like I took photos-”

“Merlin’s pants, I bet that’ll be next-”

“And really, it’s quite different when it’s your own father - I didn’t look at it or anything,” Hermione was quick to state, “but even just knowing…”

She broke off with a shudder. Ron set down the container of pasta and folded her into his arms, where she laid her cheek automatically against his chest.

“That sounds traumatic,” said Ron, gently kissing the top of Hermione’s head.

“It really was.”

“Should we sign you up for therapy?”

“Yes, please.”

With another little chuckle, he kissed the top of her head again, and she settled in against him. Her mum had been right: she did have a connection with him that was unlike anything else. She had always known that they would end up exactly as they were now, even when they hadn’t been able to see it themselves.

“So you said your mum had some comments?” asked Ron after a few minutes’ easy silence. “I’m a little scared to ask.”

“Not about the picture,” Hermione said. “Mostly about how… how good you are for me.”

“Yeah?”

“She referred to you as her future son-in-law.”

Ron loosened his grip on Hermione just enough to look down at her with surprise. “Did she really?”

Hermione nodded again. “Does that… freak you out?”

It was not a question of whether he loved her, or was wholeheartedly committed to her; she knew without a shadow of a doubt how he felt. But with marriage came things like babies and home loans and joint vaults at Gringotts, and it was not unreasonable to think that at nineteen, he simply might not be ready for it.

But he just shook his head, and moved in to kiss her again - this one soft, warm, lingering. “Nope. Not at all.”

Happily, Hermione resumed hugging him.

“Maybe next time,” said Ron, his hand rubbing idly up and down her spine, “you lot could do something a little more… you could join a book club, maybe. Something like that.”

“That could be fun,” responded Hermione. “Only, my mum’s got a bit of a penchant for romance novels.”

“Oh. Perhaps not, then…”

#romione #rhr #ron weasley #hermione granger #so just to be clear Hermione's mum did not look at the drawing #she's not a creep lol #also nobody should take the mention of bruschetta as 'excellent' as an endorsement of raw tomatoes

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purplesurveys · 4 years ago

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1257

Have you ever watched a movie in class/school that made you cry? Oh for sure. We had to watch It’s A Beautiful Life and I know I cried every single time I watched that movie, whether for school or on my own time.

What’s the earliest you could go to bed at night and feel okay about? I don’t really get this question. I feel like it would make more sense if it asked how early I’m willing to wake up in the morning...? Anyway, I don’t pay attention to the time I sleep at night. Sometimes I’ll pass out as early as midnight, and sometimes I’ll be up until 3; it doesn’t matter to me.

What is you favorite type of lunch meat? I’m not into those in general.

What time of the year do you dislike the most? The heat in April and May is just brutal and uncalled for. It gets so hot and disgustingly humid and most times the aircon can’t even do much to quell it.

Do you put ketchup on your scrambled eggs? Yeah, banana ketchup since that’s what we usually have a bottle of. Generally, I have banana ketchup with most of my breakfast dishes too.

What is your favorite color to wear? I don’t really have a favorite to wear those days mostly because I barely go out anyway and there’s been little need to update my closet.

Are you an overachiever? Seems like the type of question you should be asking my parents, not me haha. Personally, though, I’m fairly proud of what I’ve accomplished.

What physical feature do you wish you had (i.e. freckles, curly hair)? Maybe longer legs and smaller teeth, but I’m not exactly insecure about mine.

What fictional character (i.e. Bambi, Scarlette O'Hara) would you marry? Did you just raise the possibility of marrying a deer? Anyway...since I mentioned Two for the Road in the last survey, I’ll go with Mark from that movie. Seems like my type of partner.

How long have you gone without shaving (girls- legs, armpits; boys- faces)? With legs...around 2-3 weeks. Armpits, maybe about a week or so. Never more than a month for either.

What is the meanest thing you have ever said to someone else? For the most part I’ve always been cautious of what I say; writing, on the other hand...I’ve written stuff on my diary wherein I let out all my frustrations against my mom. I know they were mean because she cried over them – but that also entailed snooping through my stuff, so I’ve never felt bad about it. I meant those things as I wrote them because it was my safe space, and she violated that. That’s on her.

Did you ever go through a phase where you wrote bad poetry? I did, but I instantly realized it was bad so I stopped as soon as I began.

What is your favorite thing about your life? How everything seems to have fallen in its place these days. There’s really little to complain about and I’m grateful for that.

Save all the animals that die during road kill or save 1 human from a fire? Animals.

Have you ever painted a picture of somebody? No.

How many real bfs/gfs have you had? One.

Did you enjoy your past relationships? I did.

Name a comedy that you like. White Chicks. << I love this choice, let’s just go with this one lol.

Could you wait until marriage for sex? Sure.

What’s the best Nirvana song? I don’t listen to them. I know a couple of songs but I don’t like them enough to be my favorites.

What was the last thing that impressed you? The new Butter remix with Megan Thee Stallion.

When was the last time you were in a pet store? Years, years ago.

What nationality is your last name? Spanish or Portuguese, I’m not super sure.

What’s your favorite kind of chips and dip? I never dip my chips; I just have them as is.

Who was the last boy that you saw cry? Idk...maybe one of my cousins from one of our family reunions last year. I don’t get to be around a lot of boys or guys.

Does your mom know you do surveys? No. I’ve never had to raise it and I can’t see a situation where I would have to.

Have you ever had a serious injury? Yeah, I got a big wound from when I went snorkeling around a decade ago. I wasn’t provided flippers so when I was kicking to stay afloat I managed to hit the coral reefs underneath repeatedly, which majorly scraped and gashed my left foot until it was an open, bleeding mess. It was infected for weeks and I’m surprised it didn’t leave any kind of mark or scar.

What was the last thing you achieved? Handling a campaign for a major client successfully and getting good coverage and results for it.

Would you enjoy being famous? Probably, but I wish I had some sort of talent or skill that would propel me to popularity in the first place hahaha.

What’s under your bed? Some things I collected from past hobbies and interests, like all my old wrestling magazines.

Do you enjoy travelling? Love it.

Have you ever belonged to a club? If so, what was it? I mean I joined an org in college, which technically makes me a member for life. I’m not name-dropping but it’s one of the two journalism organizations in my alma mater.

When was the last time you drank strawberry milk? I can’t recall. I don’t drink strawberry milk.

Have you ever managed to collect all the fast food toys in a set? I never collected those.

Do you have a clock in your room? Nope.

Did you have a good driver’s ED teacher? I honestly can’t remember. I only had like three sessions with different instructors for each, and the one instructor I remember having was extremely cranky and impatient.

Which of Britney Spears’ songs is your favorite? Hold It Against Me is pretty fun.

Does mind over matter work for you? Sure.

Are you paranoid? Oh yeah. Overthinker is pretty much my middle name.

What is the best thing about winter? I wouldn’t know but considering the things associated with it, I’ve always believed it would be my favorite season.

Have you ever been truly in love? Hmm. I think so, yeah. I’d give myself that.

Are you currently planning a trip? Nah. Nothing set in stone, but Angela, Reena, and I have been talking about flying to South Korea next year. We’ll see.

How many plants are in your home? Several. My mom is a bit of a fan, but it’s nothing obsessive.

What is your favorite possession? I treasure my BTS merch, I guess haha. Nobody is allowed to touch them or move them around without my permission. As often as my mom likes to barge in my room and touch my stuff, she seems to understand and doesn’t lay a finger on any of the merch either.

Have you ever felt like you were too nice and way too often overlooked? Sure. But it's never really mattered to me; it just feels nice to be nice and do nice things for people. It does feel nice to be thanked, but I don’t necessarily do it for the recognition.

What movies have tripped you out? I’m Thinking of Ending Things, Midsommar, Anomalisa, Under the Skin, 2001: A Space Odyssey, and The Killing of A Sacred Deer are a few of them.

Did you rollerblade as a kid? Do you still rollerblade? Yesssss, I even had a pair as a kid. I got into it because I loved to ice skate, but it turned out I wasn’t as good as gliding on the ground so I ultimately preferred ice skating. Anyway, no, I haven’t done rollerblading in years.

Would you ever settle into a relationship that wasn’t right for you? Do you know friends who are in relationships just so they have someone to sleep with at night? I did. I stayed because it’s where I felt safe and I didn’t know where else to go or what else to do outside of it.

Would you take a dirty picture of yourself for someone you are dating? Sure.

Do you use earplugs or a sleeping mask when you sleep? Nope. I find them more distracting than anything else, and they actually keep me from sleeping.

What summertime treats do you love? I don’t have any.

How picky are you when it comes to choosing who to kiss or not kiss? I am VERY picky. I have to be really interested in you. < Yeah, this sounds about right.

What do you hate most about moving? The last time we moved was in 2008...and I don’t really remember disliking any part of it. I was actually excited for us to have a home all to ourselves after living with extended family in a cramped house all my life.

Do you feel that having sex anywhere but a bed is more exciting? Depends where. Sometimes it can be exciting, sometimes it can be inconvenient but you kinda do it out of desperation lol.

Do you drink 5 hour energy drinks or any other kinds of energy drinks? No, I’m scared of how it would affect my body so I’ve never tried.

Has anyone ever whistled at you? Countless random men.

Do you like scarves? They can be comfy if I’m traveling somewhere cold...but I don’t really get to do that often, so.

Is your father homophobic? I haven’t seen any signs from him. My mom is much more likely to exhibit internalized homophobia – she just did the other night.

Do you take gummy vitamins? No, only when I was a teenager.

Have you ever applied make-up on a guy, for any reason at all? I don’t think so, nothing I can recall.

Who would you like to meet before you die? I don’t have any goal person in mind.

If your dream was to be a model, and a big opportunity came up, but you had to be nude, would you take it? Hmm, probably not. What’s the most ridiculous conspiracy theory you’ve ever heard of? The Avril Lavigne doppelganger one is extremely hilarious and I read up so many thread about it on Twitter just so I can see how far people can stretch it.

If Heaven and Hell exists, where are you going when you die? I don’t care.

Who is the person that you are afraid of losing, above everyone else? Either of my best friends.

What is one thing that pisses you off pretty much everyday? The weather.

Is there anyone you know that you feel should consider therapy? My mom.

Do you like any of the songs on Twilight, or the actual movie/saga itself? Yeah the soundtracks are actually fucking great. The person who took this survey before me named Supermassive Black Hole by Muse, and that’s one of my favorites from all the soundtracks. The song Slow Life in New Moon is nice, too. How old was the first person you kissed? She was 17, going on 18.

Will you be a strict parent one day? I’d have some rules set but I wouldn’t suffocate my kids.

Last person to stand up for you? Heck if I know. I can do that for myself.

Have you been to a baby shower? No.

Who were you with the last time you went to the movie theater? My ex.

What’s your favorite high school memory? Hiding a same-sex relationship from my conservative, homophobic Catholic teachers.

Do you like relationships, or do you prefer to be single? I like being single these days.

What is one adventurous thing you’d be willing to do? Trying out the Nevis Swing in New Zealand.

What subject at school did you absolutely hate? I saw no point in studying chemistry.

Italian food or Chinese food? Chinese. I like Italian cuisine, but sometimes I find it a tad bit salty for my taste.

Do you like to make flash cards when you study? Not flash cards but sometimes I’ll write my notes down in several index cards because for some reason I retain information better that way.

Has anyone ever told you that you’re a good singer? No.

Do you ever watch TED talks, live or online? No. I never saw the appeal of most of them, honestly.

I dare you to write the name of a person you strongly dislike. Gabie.

What do you think about Marilyn Manson? I have nothing to say about him tbh.

Biggest trouble you’ve ever gotten into at school? Nothing beyond getting into an argument with this kid in 2nd grade and getting sent to the counselor’s office for it.

Do you own one of those “professional” DSLR cameras? I used to, until I handed it down to my sister...and until she let it smash onto the ground because she didn’t place it on her tripod properly when she was filming one time. I still don’t get why she’s so defensive about it; I wish she’d just admit she majorly fucked up on that. Does it bother you when you see a 6th grader with a bunch of gadgets? It makes me silently judge the parents more so than letting myself be bothered by a child.

Did you buy yearbooks every year in high school, or did you not bother? We’re not offered the chance to get yearbooks unless we’re in graduating years.

Do you have Restless Legs Syndrome? No.

Jalapeños: yay or nay? YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY

Did you ever play Minecraft? No. I can’t care less.

Did you ever have a Club Penguin account? Were you a member? I didn’t.

Do you know anyone that seems to not have any common sense? Me, sometimes. Hahahaha.

What do you think is the biggest injustice that was ever done to you? The way I was broken up with, like what the person who last took this said. I’m not tortured by it and her anymore, but I don’t think I deserved to intensely mull over about what I could have possibly done to be broken up with the way she did.

What type of person angers you the most? Abusive people that think only they matter and have no consideration for how their actions affect other people. < This pretty much hits the nail on the head on how my ex is, so I’ll just go ahead and agree.

If you could change your appearance, how would you alter it? I’d get braces again and...that’s it, really.

What are your feelings on feminism? I support it and I support how it advocates equality.

Describe your first relationship? I’ve only had one relationship so I’ll just answer the following question.

Describe your last relationship? Internally toxic; uhhh healthy at some points I guess, when she wasn’t being a selfish prick; a disaster towards the end.

Can you honestly say that you always practice safe sex? I honestly don’t know what constitutes ‘safe sex’ in a same-sex relationship, sooooo idk if I have.

Why do you think your most favorite film touches you so deeply? It’s a realistic take on love and I appreciate that it took its sweet time to highlight the ugly sides of love and marriage. Also, Audrey Hepburn taking her acting chops to the next level was just beautiful to watch. She was always a fantastic actress in all her movies, but I could tell her acting in Two for the Road had just a little bit more depth to it.

What do you want people you meet for the first time to think about you? That I’m nice and approachable.

Do you feel protective over someone? My friends.

What perfume/cologne do you wear? Heat Rush.

Where did your vehicle come from? My parents got it for me as a high school grad gift.

What was the color of the bridesmaid dresses of the last wedding you went to? I haven’t been to a wedding since 2007, and back then I was designated as a flower girl lol. I’ve never been to a wedding where I was chosen to be a bridesmaid.

What is your favorite way to eat chicken? CHICKEN SANDWICH. Also chicken wings.

It is your birthday. You hope the cake is: Oreo cheesecake topped with 24 macarons.

What do you wear to bed? Something thin and airy.

What were you doing at 8pm last night? I was watching Bon Voyage.

#survey #surveys

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chiefcj · 4 years ago

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My first post

Hey all. This is my first time using this platform. I heard about it from Gary Vaynerchuk in his book Crush IT. I had never heard of this place before and I thinks it’s pretty cool so far, especially since I’m trying to start my own blog. If you are into books for self improvement or business check out my blog on blogger.com “10 Books For a Better You”. Check it out and let me know what you think. I value your opinions.

So real quick, a little about me, I come from a very modest upbringing in a middle American industry town. I have traveled all over the country before joining the Navy right out of high school. Since then I have traveled the world, met new people and learned a lot. I’ve been in the Navy now for 24 years. I’m a division commander (that’s basically a drill instructor) who motivates, coaches, teaches, and mentors fresh college students, developing them into newly minted Naval Officers or Junior Staff Corps Officers. I enjoy teaching and mentoring in the ways of leadership, management, and self betterment. It is said that leaders are readers and I have made it a goal to read 1 book per week. That is a challenge for me considering I’m a slow reader. But I haven’t let that stop me. As a matter of fact it has made me want to read more because of my curious nature. It also helps me be a better instructor when I know the subject. So, a lot of my content will be about the books that I’ve read and the lessons that I’ve learned, and hopefully I will inspire some of you to be successful. This journey of mine is an attempt at breaking free from the confines of a 9-5 J.O.B. and break out on my own as an entrepreneur. I’ll take y’all along with me and share the things that I have learned so hopefully, you can apply the same techniques and create your own bit of fortune.

On my journey I have read up on many successful business executives, influencers, and entrepreneurs to see how they made it. I was reading The 4 Hour Work Week by Tim Ferris, and he talked about having a good morning routine. This became a recurring theme with top performers, so I figured there must be something to it. I found some great books on morning routines to get me going. The 5 AM Club, The Miracle Morning, and The Compound Effect are all great books on the positive effects of a strong morning routine. Your morning routine sets the tone for your whole day and helps you get the most out of it. I can honestly say that I accomplish more with my morning before most people are even out of bed.

The 5 AM Club talks about the 20/20/20 principle, where you get up at 5 am and spend that first hour split into three 20 minute periods of “Move, Reflect, and Grow”. The first 20 minutes should be spent on some type of exercise (Move), the second 20 minutes is to reflect with either journaling or meditation. And, the last 20 minutes is to Grow your mind with a good non-fiction book about your interests to improve your skills and learn something. There is sooooo much more packed into this book, but if you take nothing else away from this book, that should be it. Now I know, some of you are cringing at the thought of getting up at 5 AM. It’s ok. It’s not that bad. Trust me.

The Miracle Morning takes a little different approach with the acronym S.A.V.E.R.S. which stands for Silence, Affirmations, Visualization, Exercise, Reading, Scribing (Journaling). I really like this one because it starts your day off with meditation. Meditation has become a big part of my life. It helps me to get my mind focused and primed for the day, and often times I find answers to questions I’ve had, simply pop into my head and I can bang out some new ideas. It’s really been transformational for me. I used to think it was a bunch of hippy hocus pocus junk, but when many of the top performers and millionaires do it, I figured there must be something to it. So, I gave it a shot. Now I do it every day without fail. The Navy is even teaching a form of mindfulness called Warrior Toughness and has even integrated it into our routines. You can imagine my delight when they asked me to teach it to the new Officers.

The Compound Effect gets a little more in depth on the morning routine to include gratitude, reviewing your goals, and making your to-do list to get the most out of your day, week, month, and life. There is more great content in this book than just the morning routine, and is great for making major impacts on your life just by changing the way you look at things. This one is definitely a must read.

I have adopted a combination of the three methods to form my own morning routine and I block my time so nothing else gets in the way of making moves in the right direction. I start my day off early, before anyone else is up, with 20 minutes of meditation, followed by 30 minutes of reading, (I’m currently reading Tony Robbins’ Awaken The Giant Within, this one will change your life, really I mean it. I’ll write more about this one in another post). I write in my journal about whatever I’m thinking that morning, usually questions I’ve had running around in my head and answers that have come to me during meditation, or what I want to do. But, I always finish it off with 3 things I’m grateful for, 3 things that will make today awesome, and my daily affirmations (thanks Tim Ferris, that one’s from you). I cap my morning off with a dedicated hour of working on my immediate goal or project that will be the most productive for me that day. And then it’s off to get in some PT (Physical Training), usually a 2.5 mile run with my dog or some calisthenics and kettle bell exercises.

By incorporating these things into my morning routine it helps me to build good habits and make the most out of my day. In the past I was just all over the place and couldn’t seem to get much accomplished. I’d have a bunch of projects started, but never finished any of them. I’d have all these unfinished jobs around the house and my wife would hound me to get something done so our home didn’t look like a construction zone. I would spread myself too thin at work and miss deadlines. And, I would constantly get distracted by unimportant things that would monopolize my time and at the end of the day, regardless of how “busy” I was, it seemed like nothing got accomplished. I couldn’t focus and I would forget things all the time. Since I have taken back my mornings and prioritized things, I have taken my time sacred to focus on what is truly important and impactful so I can start moving forward in life instead of getting stuck in neutral with my engine redlining.

It has been a huge change for me and an exciting journey that is just beginning. I’ve read way more books, learned so much, turned around my finances, and checked off many of my projects. Things are looking up. As an educator my aim is to inspire you and show you how you take back your life and make a change for the positive. I hope that my story has been an inspiration to be great. I will be sharing more on here as I learn more and figure things out. So stick around and let’s make things happen. Thanks for being a sounding board and go ahead and leave me a note. I’d love to hear your stories too. We can be an inspiration to each other and change the world, one success at a time. And I’d love to know what books you are reading. Jim Rohn once said “What books are you reading to move you toward your goal?”

I have linked all of the books that I have read in this post so you too can take advantage of the great lessons and content they have to offer. A big thanks to the authors who have taken the time to write these books and make it possible for us to prosper. Until next time, Peace Y’all.

Chief C.J.

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culturedsociety · 4 years ago

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Culture Talks with Carolyn Blackmon

Carolyn, in English meaning Joy and Song of Happiness.

Over the last decade she’s been on a journey of healing and transformation. It’s been Incredible to look back and see how beauty does actually flourish through the ashes. What happened in her life; most definitely was birthed out of struggles, hardships, loss, depression, despair, and hopelessness. Looking back at her experiences and being In complete awe because of it. Her faith and belief in God changed when she realized that “the Creator Is ultimately in control and has the ability to take what Is broken and make It brand new.”

Her life verse Is Isaiah 61:1-3 “The spirit of the sovereign Lord Is upon me because the Lord has appointed me to provide for those who grieve, to bestow on them a crown of beauty Instead of ashes, the oil of gladness Instead of mourning, and a garment of praise Instead a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the lord for the display of his splendor.”

In her early twenties, she was extremely lost. Battling a severe eating disorder, alcoholism, depression, and sadness. She worked and pursued many things to distract herself from reality and to try to fill voids. The more destruction that she caused to her body, mind, and spirit’ the harder life became. One day after a big awakening, she had to make the choice and ask herself the hard question “Carolyn Do you want to live?” She knew at that very moment; she was not living, she was just surviving.

She made the bold decision to pack her car and move alone from WI to AZ. The land of the sun became a place of healing for her. She found yoga there. She began her vegan plant based eating, and learned to nourish her body again after starving it for so long of vital nutrients it needed to thrive. She found joy through volunteering and serving. She found god again and was re-baptized. But most importantly, found her self again.

Reflecting back to Fall of 2015 when she lost her best friend and mother to Cancer. It was as though her entire world and perspective changed about the value and gift that each day offers. She started to travel more and continued doing mission work that her mother supported the few years before she passed. She began seeking more and wanting more lead to healing the parts of her that were still broken.

In 2017, she traveled to Hawaii for her first yoga teacher training; which led her to step into a more passion and purposed filled path. This became a daily mission and allowed her the ability to circulate her gifts more responsibly. Her hope is to bless lives and help others heal, love, grow, and live their best life. To inspire them to live a life that brings an Abundance of joy, fulfillment, and higher purpose.

Take a deep dive into Carolyn’s mind:

RM: What is your Life’s Philosophy? CB: (Philosophy is an overall vision or attitude toward life and the purpose of it. Human activities are limited by time and death). I believe that we were all created in the image of God and we are each placed on Earth with our own individual and unique purpose. We are here to connect with nature, humans, animals, and to enjoy all of what God has created. We are here to not only soak in the beauty and light and spread it to others but to also use the darkness (whether it be our own struggles, lessons learned, trails, pain, suffering, etc) and use it to Glorify God? What does that mean? To use the wisdom gained, lessons learned, and the power of our testimony and story to shine the light of awareness upon all giving birth to Hope and helping others receive the healing power of Forgiveness.

RM: How has that philosophy evolved over the years? CB: Yes. I tell people that there was a line I drew that separated my old life and my new life. My old life included a long season of walking down the wrong path that ultimately was leading me down into hole. When I fell on my knees and surrendered and “woke” up. It hit me that I wasn’t living the life God planned for me. I was doing many things that I do believe helped me grow and get educated and led me to where I am today. I was drowning in depression, shame, low self esteem, and I didn’t practice self love.

Moving to AZ was the acceleration I needed to begin my rebirth process. I began serving others and finding joy in giving back for it made me realize that others had it harder than myself. I had a lot to be grateful for that I took for granted. Fast forward a few more years and I lost my Beloved Mother to Cancer. It made me realize that there is no time to waste. We are not promised tomorrow. We have a responsibility. Going through that loss changed my perspective on life and our time here on Earth.

I felt urgency. I felt my calling knocking on the door. I had to loose to gain so much more. I feel that my philosophy included being a good person, and working for what you want was so general….but over the years it’s evolved and things have been added and my life’s philosophy has gotten so complex. Creation. Calling. Service. Travel. Community. Collaboration. Healing. Purpose Filled Life

RM: How has your upbringing and circle of influence impacted the way you live and think about life today? CB: I grew up in a loving Christian home. My family members on both sides had good morals in their and the way they lived their lives was simple and consistent. I spent a lot of time in the Church. My parents Marketing business taught me so much as a young adult and I really absorbed a lot of it. My Grandpa Bood was my giver of Wisdom.

My circle of influence has really shifted in the last few years to be non-family members. Those that are where I want to be and who are doing what I am doing in their own way with their own talents. My circle of influence has been students, strangers, people I have met on travels, social media, and those that are in my tribe. It’s interesting to see how my relationships have changed and the type of people I have attracted and also been gravitated towards has changed as I have evolved and transformed and grown. My inner work has changed the way I function in relationships and I am still exploring how to have healthy boundaries as one who tends to be naïve, vulnerable, and who pours her heart and soul into everything.

RM: Do you believe that your line of work infects our society with positivity? How so? CB: When I am doing my work as a yoga instructor I try my best to step into the spaces where I am Leading classes and spread good energy that is uplifting and positive but I also know that people arrive on their mat with all different things that they are struggling with and going through and I never want to diminish that. I try to share themes that are relevant and helpful and inspiring because I really want everyone who interacts with me to leave with something that they can take with them. When they gain and grow and are blessed then so am I.

When I nanny and work with kids they give me an abundance of Joy and so I always try to pour back into the parents and thank them for the opportunity to enter into their home and spend time with them. I’ve worked jobs where felt like at the end of the day I was complaining about what I had to deal with or contend with and then I would wake up in a bad mood and that’s really a horrible cycle. I am thankful grateful that I am now an Independent Contractor and get to choose who I work with so that makes it easier but aside from that we all have a choice to make in regards to our attitude!

RM: How do you stay relevant, unique, and true to who you are as a person? CB: Let go of Comparison. It’s interesting because over the years as I became more at rest and confident in who I was and accepting of who God created me to be it made it easier to accept my path which is a lot different than many as well as accept my timeline which was not what I anticipated. I have started to become more of my own person….my tendencies and quirks have come to the surface unapologetically. Yes I am still Single…Yes I get excited over the Big Bowl Of Greens I eat everyday. My music selection changes drastically with my Mood. I could care less about TV and Material items….and I could go on and on.

The morning ritual I do sets the tone for my day. I tap into a passage or quote and scripture that I need to tell myself it’s like a treasure hunt and I get my coffee fix and take the time I need for myself and that way I’m more grounded and not shaken up or swayed or torn up by whatever may come at me and I feel that has given me the opportunity to respond better and hold my ground and keep healthy boundaries. I use to operate on not enough sleep and being stressed and hurried and then I would cave in to many things that ultimately didn’t serve myself or others well.

RM: Do you believe that the work you do everyday is aligned with your calling and higher purpose? CB: Absolutely and I want more and I am committed to continue to learn and grow and gain a deeper understanding and have more knowledge in the realm of yoga. The more spaces and places I enter and the more people that I connect and collaborate with the more lives I can touch and the more inspired I will be. This last year I started to share my content on a podcast and that was something I never imagined I would do and for a girl that use to be incredibly shy I never thought I would be on the stages I am on. It blows my mind and I am soooo appreciative.

What practices do you implement to stay grounded and divinely connected to self? CB: Guided Meditation. Yoga Nidra. Yoga. Nature. Travel. Writing. Music. Sharing wisdom with the world. Dancing. Music. Balance Healthy Clean Eating. Sharing Feelings and openly communicating with my support system. Spending a lot of time alone, while remaining connected with others.

Connect with Carolyn: Facebook Instagram

Collaboratively Written by: Carolyn Blackmon and Rebecca Muñoz

Grow this Channel & Circulate the energy of LOVE by donating: Paypal Cash app Venmo

#podcast #veganism #freedom #lifestyle #conversation #nomad #alignment #humanitarian #goodhumans #faith #mindset #empower #womeninspire

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missdutch21md · 4 years ago

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Music of the Night|4

A/N: Dear Readers, here is the next installment in the Phantom of the Opera AU! I hope you enjoy it!!! I also want to wish you all a Happy New Year! 💖 💖

Soul 💖

Summary:The time is 1856. Location: Paris, France at the Opera Populaire. Taehyung is living his life when who should stumble into his life than the most beautiful singer he has ever heard? She was the missing instrument to his orchestra. She would complete the score for his… Music of the Night.

Pairing: Opera Ghost! Taehyung x Singer! Ballet Dancer! MCUniverse: Phantom of the Opera AU

Word Count: 971

Genre: Fluff 🥰, Mature 🔞

Characters: rich! Seokjin, rich! Yoongi, dance instructor! hoseok, officer! Jimin, stagehand! Jungkook, chorus girl! BlackPink

⚠️Warnings⚠️: mentions of religion (reader prays), stalking, slight yandere themes

Please keep in mind this is a work of FICTION this in no way reflects on any BTS members or Taehyung as a person. This is simply a story for the imagination.

Go B a c k | Turn P a g e | M. L i s t

Chatter was heard around the orchestra when ___ made her way onto the stage behind the other chorus girls. It had been a few days since she had seen her teacher, every night she still dutifully went to wait for him to arrive.

Jisoo eyed the other girl warily when she saw how quiet she was. Suddenly, Francesca the main soprano came onto the stage.

“The patron must be coming,” Rose whispered.

As though on cue, Jimin came into the great hall and was announced. The cast was put to work blocking and Francesca was brought to the front to practice with Maestro Namjoon while we rehearsed. While I worked through the day, I contemplated even going down into the chapel again, fearing yet more rejection from my teacher.

The day passed mostly in a blur, the only thing of import that happened through the day was Jungkook finding a letter from the Opera Ghost yet again. He didn’t alert the entire staff this time and simply passed the letter along to Monsieur Yoongi. The stern man read the letter carefully and didn’t have anything to report it seemed.

Against my better judgement, I went down to the chapel, I swore to myself that this would be the last time. As I prayed and practically begged God to please make him come, I finally heard his sweet, soft calls.

The joy that filled me overflowed. Tears were shed in relief as I called back to him. After a night of catching up and promising that I wouldn’t let the other girls sway me to do anything he deemed inappropriate, we resumed my studies and everything was as it used to be. (Though I insisted that My Angel of Music needed to make it up to me for leaving me for so long).

The following six months were full of hard work and many lessons from Maestro Namjoon I enjoyed working with everyone. But my favorite part of the day was going down to the chapel to sing with my mysterious tutor.

I had learned quickly that he was a shy person who preferred to not reveal himself to me. I respected his wishes to remain this way. It wasn’t my place to question him anyways. He was clearly my superior in the art of singing. And in composing. And everything. He taught me so many things that I couldn’t have dreamed to learn from my limited knowledge.

My Angel, my tutor, was even continuing in teaching me how to read and write. I couldn’t thank God enough for sending me someone to confide in and to share my worries with who listened and didn’t belittle my thoughts. Someone who wanted to nurture me and to help me blossom into a stronger, better version of myself.

I was so happy every night as I made my way down into the chapel and waited to hear the soft calls from the mysterious angel that watched over me. I asked him questions about the world, asking what he knew about and learned. Tonight, was no different.

“Master,” I called out into the darkness around me.

“Yes, My Angel?” I heard his deep voice echo out softly.

“Do you think I will make a good lead soprano?” I postulated as I played with the hem of my tulle skirt as I sat taking my brief break to rest per his instruction.

I heard a soft chuckle, “of course you will be, My Pupil,” his warm voice encouraged me. I perked up, happy that he had such faith in me. “That is why I am training you,” he added. “you will be absolutely perfect as the lead soprano.”

I hummed happily and blushed with pride at his words. “I am so grateful to you, Master,” I hedged unsure of how to continue.

“What is it?” his soft voice encouraged me with a light chuckle.

“Will I ever get to see you, Master?” I asked.

There was another chuckle, louder this time, he sounded so close that my nerves shot up and I took in a sharp breath with anticipation. “One day, My Pet,” he consoled me and chuckled more at my pout as I crossed my arms over my chest. “I think we’ve allowed your mind to wander enough,” he chided. “On your feet, Little Miss.”

I complied immediately and dusted off my skirt to stand up tall and began my exercises again with him. After another half hour, the hidden genius told me to return to the rooms with the rest of the chorus girls. I sighed wistfully.

“What is on your mind, Angel?” I heard his soft voice as though he was standing behind me.

“I want to see you,” I huffed. “It’s been months since we first heard each other,” I trailed off and started up again when he said nothing. “I would like to be able to thank you properly for teaching me all that you do.”

There was another stretch of silence, “when the time is right, you will be able to see me,” he answered.

“Is that a promise?” I questioned clasping my hands tightly against my heart.

“I promise,” he answered after another brief stretch of silence. “Now, off to bed, please don’t make me ask you again.”

“Yes, Master!” I called jumping up and running up to the back of the opera house. Once I made it to the main landing, I gasped; I hadn’t said my evening prayers yet! I ran back down and apologized to God for my momentary lapse in sanity. I asked him to forgive me though because I was going to finally be able to meet my teacher. He promised! My angel promised me! After my rushed prayers to The Lord, I scampered up the stairwell again and back up to the room.

#kim taehyung #kimtaehyungxreader #min yoongi #park jimin #jeon jungkook #blackpink #kim namjoon #jung hoseok #taehyungxreader #taehyung x reader #bts x reader #btsxreader #reader insert #incorrect kpop quotes #bts #vxreader #v x reader #v #taehyunggie

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srhlsx · 5 years ago

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CHAPTER 20

master | ch. 19 | ch. 21

That morning, you were nervous. You had made a point to go to school early to fit in some solo practice since you knew group practice would be grueling this afternoon. You tried to convince yourself that you weren’t going to school early to avoid interacting with Iwaizumi on the walk to school, in the hallways, or at your locker. That’d be silly. But...

You hadn’t gotten over what you had confessed to him. You had decided for once in your life you were not going to hold back your feelings and in a moment of post coital bliss you spoke them into the universe. You were sure of the building feelings, having thought you were in love before but realizing how different it could actually be when the person was good. You just wished… that you hadn’t done it.

You were sitting in your seat for the first class of the day when Iwaizumi sat down in his chair behind you harshly, making his desk hit the back of your chair. The jolt surprised you and made you jump since you had been so immersed in your textbook and checking your homework that you hadn’t even noticed him walking in.

“Where were you?” He asked. Iwaizumi didn’t lean in to talk to you, opting instead for a normal volume of voice as he unpacked his materials.

You paused but didn’t turn around to face him when you answered. “Wanted to get some practice in,” You said to your textbook. You heard him pause behind you, obviously noticing the way you wouldn’t look at him.

“You’re avoiding me.” He stated, voice having lowered to barely a whisper.

It made you tense and pause what you were doing, your eyes only focusing on one single word printed on the book in front of you - chloroplast, chloroplast, chloroplast - “I um, really need to finish this up before class starts.” You shook your head and mumbled the response to him, definitively ending the conversation.

Iwaizumi didn’t try to push it any more. He stared at the back of your head for a few moments longer until the teacher at the front of the room demanded everyone’s attention. Bristling slightly, Iwaizumi chewed at his cheek in thought until he tasted blood. With you sitting in front of him, there was no way he was going to focus on class anyways so he let his mind wander to thoughts about what could be going on with you.

You couldn’t breathe properly. You were so focused on making sure that your focus was on the teacher and not the boy sitting behind you that you had forgotten the most basic of human needs - air. You sucked in a deep breath, hoping the air filling up your lungs would help alleviate the pain in your heart, and let it out in a heavy sigh - catching the attention of your instructor and the rest of the class.

“Something the matter, Miss (Y/n)?” Your teacher turned around partially from where they had been writing on the board, looking at you over their glasses.

“Uh, no ma’am.” You stuttered, embarrassed and looking back down at your notes. “Sorry.”

The older woman turned back to her lecture and the attention turned away from you, but your breathing wasn’t back to normal. You began to transition to your next subject, clearing your desk of previous materials and making room for what was needed now. You felt a light tap on your arm and looked down to see a hand holding a hard candy out to you. You looked at the hand skeptically, knowing it belonged to Iwaizumi.

“Here,” He mumbled, nudging the candy at you again. “I know you like the distraction when you’re stressed, so just take it.”

You snatched the candy out of his hand without a word and unwrapped it, quickly popping it into your mouth. The artificial flavor you immediately recognized as your favorite and the fiddling with the hard candy in your mouth was a welcome distraction, you actually felt yourself relax just a tiny bit. You were still uncomfortable and your chest still ached very deep down inside, but you felt like you could breathe again and that was an improvement.

“Thank you,” You mumbled around the candy, still not turning around and focusing on the new lesson instead.

- - - - -

When the bell for lunch rang, Iwaizumi was hopeful that this weird slump you were in had passed and that you’d turn around and ask him what his lunch plans were, like you always did. That didn’t happen. Instead, you bolted up in your seat, grabbing your packed lunch that had been sitting at your feet, and swiftly exited the room before he even got a chance to say anything.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, a slightly befuddled look on his face, until Oikawa came looking for him. “Iwa~” He greeted, sitting down in your chair. “Where is-”

“Something’s up,” Iwaizumi interrupted. “With (y/n), she won’t even look at me.”

Oikawa narrowed his eyes at his friend in thought, having no idea what had happened between parting ways with Iwaizumi days earlier and this moment. “I’ll go look for her,” He said, getting up and leaving his friend to sit alone.

Something told Oikawa to go to the dance studio. He’d been a few times, meeting you there after practices to try and sneak a few glances into your club life. What he found this time was a little more of a sad sight than he was actually expecting. You sat in the middle of the studio floor with your lunch in front of you, lights off, alone. You saw him reflected in the many mirrors that were on the walls so it wasn’t a surprise when he spoke up.

“I thought I’d find you here,” He came strutting into the space and took a seat next to you, picking up a piece of your lunch and popping it in his mouth.

You smiled sadly at your food, not looking up at Oikawa as you spoke. “Yeah, I just kind of… needed a different setting.”

“Something bothering you?” He pushed.

“Well, I do have to break up with my boyfriend soon.” You attempted to joke, finally looking up at his concerned face.

“About that,” He started, trailing off and turning to mess with the food in your lunch. “What do you say we keep going?” He looked up at your confused face before continuing. “Well, it’d be a little suspicious and heartless if you dumped me right after such a devastating loss.”

“I am the ice queen though,” You mumbled with a sarcastic tone into your sandwich before taking a bite. “Wouldn’t be too off brand.”

“You know that nickname is bullshit,” He said, his tone strict when he saw the unconvinced look you shot at him. “But I was also hoping because I haven’t really decided what I’m going to do after graduation, and if we ‘break up’ now, they’re going to be all over me (y/n), more than before.”

You mulled over the proposition as you chewed on your food. You had gotten this far already, what were a few more weeks or months at this point in the whole ordeal. You looked at him, his chocolate eyes pleading you to agree, and you nodded your head. “Yeah,” You said after swallowing. “Yeah, let’s keep it going.”

He let out a sigh of relief and did his best to tackle you in a hug from where you were both sitting. It knocked you over and you let out what felt like your first genuine laugh in days. “Get off me you freak,” You laughed, shoving him off. He rolled over and laid down next to you.

“I really appreciate it, (y/n).” He said to the ceiling, resting his hands behind his head. “Especially with everything with Iwa, I’m grateful you guys are my friends.”

You completely froze. Your eyes were wide and unblinking as you too stared at the ceiling, not daring to move or even take a breath. He knew. He knew and he was okay with it?

“It’s fine, (y/n)~” He laughed, one of his genuine laughs. “I figured it out a little while back, Iwa kind of confirmed it the other night. I’m happy for you guys, for real. Two of my favorite people.”

The tension still hung in the air but it wasn’t as bad as it had been a moment before. You felt the blush fade away from your face and an unknown weight lift from your chest and shoulders. This heavy secret you’d been carrying around was now known to the one person you’d been most worried about finding out. It wasn’t ideal, you were sure that Oikawa would’ve felt betrayed but you felt confident that he was honest when he said it was fine and he was happy - Oikawa Tooru was many things, but he was not a liar.

“I told him I was in love with him.” You whispered, breaking up the silence that had built between you for a few minutes. You scrunched up your eyes tightly in hopes that the burning tears would just go away when you thought of what had happened between you and Iwaizumi. “He didn’t… say anything.”

“Iwa has never been good with feelings,” Oikawa said quietly. He turned his head to face you, the feeling of him playing with a loose piece of your hair made you turn to look at him as well. He studied the strands intently, a soft smile on his face before his eyes turned to yours. “Do you ever think it could’ve been us, (y/n)? For real?”

Your heart broke in that moment. He didn’t look sad but was genuinely asking the question and looking for an answer.

Maybe.

If you had stopped yourself that night after the party, things wouldn’t have gone where they did. If you hadn’t shared those lingering glances, searching for each other when you knew you shouldn’t be. If you hadn’t cried to him and had him hold you when you needed it most. Maybe things would’ve been different and instead of falling in love with his best friend, you might’ve fallen in love with the boy you were fake dating. But that’s not what happened, and you couldn’t change things now.

“I don’t know, Tooru.”

TAGS: @iihxneybunz75 @bambisfuneral @svtbitch @gayverlinq @bubbleteaa @keekee-732 @oikawannabeyourbabie

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu iwaizumi hajime #hq!! x reader #hq!!#hq #hq iwaizumi #oikawa tooru #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x reader #x reader

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whereistheonepiece · 5 years ago

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So @lesbian-space-ranger and I accidentally created a new Zosan AU that we’ve been talking about since last night. A note: half of this is me summarizing, half of it is pulled directly from Discord because Cas (lesbian-space-ranger) has such great ideas.

This is a long post. I don’t feel like putting it under a read more. So. Enjoy. Or keep scrolling. Either works.

So this post happened

These roles just came to me. Didn’t need to give it much thought because Sanji has the appearance and demeanor of a lead singer and I like the idea of him using his skilled hands to play piano at the same time.

I also watched the movie Rocketman earlier in the week. You know, that Elton John biopic. I adored it and it’s been heavy on my mind lately and I liked the idea of Sanji giving a high energy performance from the piano. (Sir Elton John’s music comes into play later.)

And as for Zoro, I find the bass and/or the beat the sexiest part of the music in a song and, naturally, I can see him rocking at either.

So I asked Cas if she had any other headcanons for this AU and this thing is too good to not share.

Yeah, so Zoro and Sanji are in a boy band with Usopp and Luffy. Luffy started the band. Luffy does guitar, Zoro is on bass, Usopp is on drums, and Sanji is on keyboard and vocals.

Nami is their manager. She works them hard and has taken a 40% cut of the profits because of the guys’ naivete and inexperience. But she’s why they took off. She booked their gigs at every venue she could manage, no matter how small.

They got their big break when Nami met Vivi, who’s a talent scout for the record label Baroque Works. Nami insisted that Vivi had to see the boys perform because they’re something else and Vivi’s heard that a thousand times, but she agreed because Nami is cute. Nami and Vivi are dating. Also, re Baroque Works: Crocodile looks like a sleazy music producer, doesn’t he? So does Doflamingo.

So Sanji is the pretty one, Luffy is the funny one, Zoro is the quiet/broody one, and Usopp is the smart one.

Zoro has a lot of deals with fitness brands, but secretly finds the famous life unfulfilling. This comes back later, so keep that in your back pocket.

Robin runs their social media. She’s so good at her job, running all of their accounts and tweeting simultaneously, you’d swear she had four sets of hands. Wink.

Franky does pyrotechnics/lighting.

Brook is their stylist.

Chopper was their first real fan. He and Zoro grew up in the same neighborhood and Chopper just always idolized him. He followed them before anyone knew their names. He was their hype man, saying encouraging things like "I know you guys are gonna be great!" He believed in them even when they didn't believe in themselves.

Usopp set up their recordings before they got signed because he’s savvy. And then Chopper would sell their crappy CDs. At these tiny gigs. Like coffeehouses and stuff.

Sanji can play keyboard because his parents forced him to play piano as a kid. They had this idea that classical music would teach him discipline and make him smarter. This is how he meets Zeff. Zeff’s your typical stern instructor, but he’s the first adult to ask Sanji what he actually wants and likes. Zeff sees Sanji’s not into it so he asks him what music he likes and Sanji tells him he likes pop, so Zeff gives Sanji a more rounded education. This includes Elton John because I say so. It did inspire me to put Sanji on keyboard, after all.

But other than being Sanji’s piano instructor, Zeff becomes the one positive adult figure in young Sanji’s life and he becomes something of a mentor figure for him. Zeff has a garden and he lets Sanji work in it with him. This garden is how Sanji gets his “little eggplant” nickname. Sanji pulls an eggplant out before it’s ready and it’s so small and pitiful and Zeff won’t let him live it down. Like, Sanji keeps in touch with Zeff even into adulthood and after he makes it big and he still calls Sanji little eggplant.

Zoro and Sanji are always doing that, "Kind of flirting, not really” thing on stage. Sanji is always like walking up to Zoro on stage and acting like he's going to kiss him but pushing him away at the last moment. And it's this huge mystery whether they're actually an item or not. This comes from Nami. Sanji and Zoro have this natural chemistry with each other that leads to speculation and Nami, knowing how boy band fan bases work, saw dollar signs. But it’s not just pragmatism on her part; she knows that one cannot simply go up to Zoro and Sanji and say “You obviously like each other. You should date.” So she makes money and helps her friends find happiness.

Usopp has speculation going on as well. People are always confused as to who he’s dating. Tabloids keep being like "Usopp dumped Nami and is now dating Luffy!" "Luffy Scorned?" "Luffy ditches Usopp and steals his girl!" And they just think the entire thing is hilarious. They collect headlines. The answer is Usopp is dating Luffy and Nami and Luffy and Nami just become really affectionate with each other after dating Usopp long enough. Also Nami is dating Vivi, like I mentioned, and sometimes Nami brings her on as a plus one.

Sanji and Zoro keep giving conflicting answers about their relationship status. Like they'll tell one person they hate each other and another person they're gonna get married someday. Sanji has to walk this fine line of being "in love" with all of his female fans and also "in love" with Zoro. Or not. Who knows? Like Sanji enjoys the attention but he really really plays shit up for his fangirls. This makes Sanji even more popular. Just picture pages upon pages of Sanji/Reader and “Zanji” fics on Wattpad. Nami is one smart lady. "I am the smartest, prettiest, most clever person alive."

Zosan getting together really is just a bunch of Fake Dating tropes. At first it really is just to get more press for the band. Nami schemes with Usopp and Robin to push them together. Robin's a social media genius and knows how to craft tweets and Instagram posts that fans will overanalyze.

Meanwhile eventually Zoro and Sanji admit to each other they have actual feelings and one day Usopp finds Sanji sleeping in Zoro's bed, both of them completely tuckered out. But they don’t know Nami crafted this. They just come clean and hope she won't be mad and she's like, "Yes! Finally!" and they're like "What?" and she's like, "I've been waiting for you two to realize you have actual feelings. Did you really think I'd just use you for profit like that?" and they're both like "Yes" "Of course"

Zoro’s mad at her for meddling. Secretly he’s grateful, but he doesn’t want to give her the satisfaction and he’s yelling until Sanji grabs his hand and he just calms down.

And to bring Elton John back into the picture, just picture Sanji doing a cover of “Your Song” and uploading it online and thinking about Zoro. Naturally the comments are abuzz with people speculating that he’s singing about Zoro. And like. Onstage Sanji does his rendition and sends these small glances Zoro’s way, partially because he knows it’ll get the band a lot of attention, partially because that song is sweet and beautiful and it’s such a simple way to explain his feelings. (There is a reason why Moulin Rouge included it!!) I imagine this happens before they come clean to each other. Like, Zoro comes to him and is all “I keep thinking about that song you did...” And they go from there.

And eventually the band comes to its natural end.

Usopp goes solo and flourishes, working as a songwriter and a producer. He wrote the band’s songs and he’s had a drum kit since he was, like, ten and he can make his own beats. He’s not the singing type (though he is good at it and could reach new heights if he came out of his shell), so he’s the kind of artist who makes the beat and then gets super famous pop singers to feature on his tracks. But he also writes songs for other singers and is so good at it and produces other artists’ tracks. I also like the idea that he’s taught himself to play multiple instruments, but he prefers the drums/percussion. He totally played percussion in school and was in marching band. I was in marching band for one year. I loathed every second of it, but I know he’d be phenomenal in drum corps.

Luffy isn’t much in music anymore, but he keeps himself busy. He’s something of an influencer, the kind of celebrity who gets paid to wear fashion brands’ clothing. He’s also Usopp’s trophy husband, living off the money he made off the band. Usopp grew wise to Nami’s antics and made sure he and Luffy would live comfortably for the rest of their lives, even if Usopp were to retire. Luffy also is secretly a Buzzfeed journalist because it’s fun for him to write these hit articles and people not know it’s him because he’s writing on this super bland pseudonym.

And then there’s Zosan. They have a falling out after the band splits and go their separate ways.

Sanji quits being a professional singer because he’s tired of the prying into his personal life, but he still mentors and/or teaches. He has a string of girlfriends and finds no fulfillment in those relationships because the women are only interested in his celebrity.

And they aren’t Zoro.

Zoro tried branching off into commercials for fitness, but his heart wasn’t in it. He kind of takes up ranching on a whim and learns that he’s really good at it. He likes the physical labor, the quiet, being away from it all, nobody knowing his name. He doesn’t pursue anyone after Sanji because he feels like if it’s meant to be, someone will appear.

And Sanji does.

Sanji finds out where Zoro is through Luffy. So he makes his way to the ranch and finds Zoro and Sanji is all “Come back. I miss you.”

And there’s just a lot of soft Zosan content during Sanji’s visit. Sanji’s always been afraid of horses, but he’s not afraid when he’s with Zoro, and Zoro teaches him they can be gentle creatures, it’s just that you just have to respect them. (Ha. Get it?) Zoro takes Sanji on a ride and they go out and he takes him up the mountain and shows him how beautiful the view is. Sanji's watching the sunset and he's like, "Damn that's the prettiest thing I've ever seen." And Zoro is looking at Sanji and he says, "It sure is." And Sanji's like, "you're not... even looking." And Zoro's like, "No, I'm looking alright. Prettiest thing I've ever seen for sure."

More soft things like Zoro taking off his cowboy hat and putting it on Sanji. Them sitting by the fire, Zoro playing acoustic while Sanji sings. Whenever people see them they’ll ask them if they’re musicians and they share a knowing smile and say “Yeah. Something like that.”

And Zoro convinces Sanji to move out there with him. The others come to visit. Luffy and Chopper are obsessed with the cows and horses and the chickens. Luffy wants, like, eight pet chickens. Usopp is skeptical. Doesn’t believe Lu can look after a pet.

And it kind of ends there. It was us going back and forth, oftentimes out of chronological order, and so here I am putting it all together because it’s too good not to share. But it was a lot of fun.

#zosan #zoro #sanji #lusona #luffy #usopp #nami #robin #franky #chopper #brook #vivi #namivivi #long post #music au

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