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#[ sorry for being slower than molasses ]
vuulpecula · 4 months
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✖ alright alright alright. just popping in to say i miss y'all & i'm sorry for going radio silent. i received some new responsibilities and work and it's been draining me. hoping to be on this weekend to tackle some drafts, starters, and the inbox ! until then, i love y'all & i hope you're okay out there ! xo.
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foxlin-fantasia · 11 months
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glam plate #4 ! :D
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Glamour plate #4 - " Flight Suit "
( y'all ever watch a mech anime? lmaoo extra screenies from The Sorrow of Werlyt quests under read more )
get in the damn robot hanaka !!
this was a glam born of anime nonsense
i don't use this jacket v much but i love it here!
love the pretty metallic red boots & matching bow <3
uuuhhh, pls enjoy the screenshots i'm sorry i didn't take many fullbodies
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jigenstits · 2 years
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(i will answer my inbox soon i swear)
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TCOY Teaser
You know how when someone takes a hostage, the kidnapper gives "proof of life"?? This is proof that I am working on the next chapter of TCOY, I swear.
now leave me $1 million in an unmarked suitcase if you ever wanna it again
Little snippet below the 'read more' line! I love you all (and I'm sorry for being slower than molasses on a cold, winter morning).
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“Hey.” He said softly. “Mornin’, sug⏤” Joel stopped himself, it looked like he choked on his words, but he locked his jaw and changed direction. “Mornin’. How did you sleep?” You gave a small shrug and a tight lipped smile. “Right. How’s your…” Joel lifted his own hand. “Your hand?”
You lifted it up to stare down at it. The bandages had been pulled away when you washed up this morning. It didn’t look so bad. “It’s fine. Thanks for the⏤ the tylenol. And the toothbrush. And the,” You motioned to the clothes hanging off your frame, “You know.”
“Can I?” Joel nodded toward you.
“I said, it’s fine, Joel.”
“I…” He sighed and the look in his eyes was agonizing. “I know you’re pissed at me. Understandably so. But, please can you just⏤ just let me help?”
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divider by @saradika
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corazondebeskar-reads · 5 months
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sorry, baby
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based on this moodboard by @iamasaddie for the ✏️ game writing exercise 🖤🖤🖤
(ik that's javi p. but I don't know him so have some '70s mobster joel instead)
word count: 539
summary: maybe being a mob wife is not for you?
warnings: suicidal ideations, threats of suicide, guns, allusions to gun violence, allusions to killing, angst, idk guys it ran away from me, dead dove do not eat, dark
dividers by @saradika-graphics
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If Joel is startled to wake up to the butt of his gun, he doesn’t show it. At first, in the darkness, he thinks you’re aiming at him. 
He blinks slowly once, twice. Takes in the shake of your arms and the distance between your finger and the trigger. 
You’re holding it just how he taught you, nice and careful, arms outstretched from your body.
“It’s okay to be scared,” he had said in your ear that day as he reached around your body to adjust your grip. “It’s okay to respect its power.” 
And no, he hadn’t expected you to touch it again. Ever. Hadn’t given a second thought to leaving it out when he fell asleep. 
It’s nearly three in the morning, and you’re still in the dress you wore to dinner last night, smears of makeup made gaunt by the thin stretch of moonlight. You always hated hotel curtains that never closed quite right. 
It glints from the tears welling in your eyes. He reaches up, slower than molasses, and wraps his hand around the side of the gun. 
Your hands fall to your lap while his holds steady.
“What’re you doin’, darlin’?” he murmurs. And then he sees it on the nightstand. A little folded card that says, “sorry baby” in your hasty, conjoined scrawl.
“The fuck is that?” he says. 
You snatch at it but he’s faster even with his left hand. Of course he is. He holds it open with his thumb on the crease, and you’re suffocating more with each second as his eyes scan the short letter over and over.
“You want out, huh?” 
“Joel, please,” you start to cry. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, ya said that already, didn’t ya? In your little note. Do anything to get away from me, huh? Even that.” He looks beyond fury, but worse, he looks heartbroken.
“No, not you. Just the rest of it. Never you,” you say.
He shifts his grip and turns the gun on himself. “You think you can fuckin’ leave me like that?” His hand is shaking, but he’s knocked back the hammer. 
“Joel, please,” you whisper, but he’s beyond hearing.
But he’s shaking his head. “What’d those girls say to you, huh? I let you go off with those fuckin’ bimbos one time…”
“The truth. They told me the truth. About what you do. All of you.”
“Honey, you knew. You knew that pretty little life was paid in blood. You knew what you were getting into.” 
He draws the gun to his head, eyes gone dark as they focus only on the tears streaking down your cheeks.
“No!” you’re interrupted by a racking sob, fear coagulating in your throat. “Joel, please. Just put the gun down.”
“You want out? This is the only way, baby. Only way they’ll let you go.”
He grits his jaw and stares, daring you to choose.
“Please,” you gasp through the horrible wrenching pain in your chest. “Joel, please.”
He sets the gun on the nightstand and lets you fall, sobbing against his chest. After a moment, he grips your chin in his fingers and makes you look at him.
“Don’t you ever fucking do that to me. Do you understand? Don’t you ever fucking do that to me again.”
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silentglassbreak · 5 months
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Anonymous
Noah Sebastian x OFC
I'm so sorry it took me a little longer to update. I've got a gnarly head cold, but I'm in bed, and hoping to get the next part started after this one is posted. We’re getting to the meat of the story here now folks. There’s lots of fluffy cheesy fluff in this chapter, because it’s going to get real heavy later. Remember to let me know if you want to be tagged! 🖤
Warnings: Alcohol abuse, overall abuse, mild violence (ie. bar fights), smut, swearing, and altogether just a lot of fuckery. ++ chapter warning for consensual choking***
+It goes without saying. This is a work of fiction. My words are mine. Plagiarism is a crime.
Part 7 — Concrete Jungle
The days were passing slower than molasses. I found myself working overtime nearly every day to give me something to do outside of being at home, AA, or waiting for Noah to call. Being a hermit was much easier when the only person I had to look forward to seeing was my dog.
We were so close to the end of the first leg of the tour, Noah only having two shows left before he came home for nearly three months.
I dreamt of how wonderful those three months would be. We talked about it often. He swore he was coming over the day he got home from Witchita, and we weren’t leaving my house for a solid week. As unrealistic as that was, I still looked forward to it, and scheduled vacation to have that entire week off.
I was soaking in the tub, music pumping through my earbuds when the sound of a familiar ringtone sang through my ears. I smiled and tapped my phone screen, answering the call.
“Hey babe.” I sank back down into the water, inhaling the lavender scent of the epsom salts I had added.
“Hey sweetheart, how was your day?” His voice was relaxed, calm and cool.
“Not the worst. Sam wasn’t there today, so I actually didn’t hate it.”
He chuckled. “That guy’s a real dick, huh?”
I snorted. “The worst.”
“Well, if he ever makes another pass at you, just tell him your big scary boyfriend will kick his ass.”
My eyes were closed, just relaxing at the sound of his voice. “My boyfriend?”
“Is that a problem?”
“I thought I said I didn’t want anything official?”
I could hear the smirk in his voice. “Yeah, well that was before big meathead dudes were hitting on you.”
“Mm,” I pulled my arm out of the water to readjust my towel under my head. “I’ll tell him my big scary boyfriend said so.”
“What is that noise? Are you doing dishes?”
“In the tub.”
He didn’t respond, but I heard my phone’s twinkling ringtone, indicating I was getting a FaceTime call. I snickered and ignored it.
“No way. You gotta wait to see it in person.”
I heard him groan on the other end of the line. “Not fucking fair! You’re all wet and bubbly.”
“No bubbles today.”
“So I can see through the water?!”
The jingling came again and I ignored it, laughing loudly.
“Shouldn’t you be in soundcheck?”
“That ended hours ago. I’m relaxing in my room before the show.” His voice lowered. “I’m so lonely.”
“See if Nick’s around.” I said nonchalantly.
He hissed. “Babe, I’m in a mood here, help me out.”
I giggled. “Say please.”
“You know I don’t fucking ask.” His tone was deadly now. I shivered at the sound, spreading my thighs a little.
“Fine, but no video. Last time I nearly dropped my phone in the tub.”
“Deal.”
It was silent for a beat. “You okay?” I looked over to the phone to make sure the call hadn’t disconnected.
“I’ll be better once I know you’re touching yourself.” My stomach dropped, a small moan leaving my mouth. His words were always so maddening, getting me hot so quickly.
I adjusted myself, spreading my thighs and letting my hands fall lazily over my slit, running my fingers gently over my sensitive spot.
“I am.”
“Good girl.” I pressed a little harder against my clit, rubbing slow circles around it. “Now, tell me how bad you miss my cock. How bad do you miss me baby.”
I moaned louder now, bringing my left hand up to punch my nipples. My undulations on my core increasing speed by the second.
“Ugh I miss you so much Noah.” I let my head fall back, eyes closed, picturing him in the tub with me.
“That’s right. You miss me touching you, baby?”
My voice was just breaths. “Yes.”
“You miss me eating that sweet pussy? Making you fucking scream?” His breaths were coming quicker now.
“Yes, Noah.” I answered louder, my hips buckling slightly at the thought.
“When I get home, you going to let me fucking destroy you, baby? Fuck you until you can’t even move?”
“Oh, fuck, yes...” I was so fucking close.
“I’m going to come just fucking thinking about it baby. Always thinking about you. That pretty, tight pussy. So fucking wet.” I could hear movement on the other end, I could tell he was as close as I was.
“Noah I need you so bad. Please come home. Please come home and fuck me. I need you so so bad.”
I heard him gasp hard on the other end. “Fuck!” His voice was sharp. He came.
I wasn’t far behind, letting out a small scream.
There was no words exchanged for at least five minutes while we both worked on getting our breathing under control.
After a moment, I heard him make a sound of disapproval. “I made a mess.”
This caused me to burst out laughing, him joining me only a second later.
“Fucking hell, Noah. I can’t wait to see you.”
He sighed heavy. “I know.” I could tell he was thinking, he only got completely silent when he was.
“Fuck it, come to Witchita! Catch a flight tomorrow and you can make the show. Then you can ride home with us.” I paused myself, now toweling off while the water drained from the tub.
“Excuse me?”
“You took the week off, right? I’ll book you a ticket right now.”
“Noah, you aren’t coming home until Thursday. I can’t leave Angel that long. And I can’t bring him on the bus.”
“Can Laura watch him for a few days?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know, Noah. I’d miss two days of group.”
He huffed, obviously defeated. “Alright. I’m sorry, it was a dumb idea.”
“No, it wasn’t. I just need more time to plan something like that.”
He had to go, ending the call quickly to shower and head back down to the venue. With a promise of calling me after, we hung up.
-
I called Laura that night, telling her about Noah’s promise to keep me in bed for a week.
“I’m so fucking jealous of you.” I laughed heartily.
“You’re married!”
“I know! But you’re literally dating a rockstar, Leena. I’m jealous.”
I chewed on my thumb nail.
“He called himself my boyfriend, Laura.”
“Isn’t he?”
I flopped back on my bed. “I don’t know. It feels like it.”
“Is that so bad?”
I contemplated this. “I’m scared, Laura.” My arm covered my eyes. “You know how long it’s been.”
“I know, LeeLee.” Her childhood nickname for me brought me some comfort. “But Noah isn’t him.”
“I know he isn’t.”
“So don’t hold yourself back. Have you even told Noah about him? About any of your trauma?”
“No.”
“Maybe you should.”
I could feel hot tears brewing. “I’m scared to love him, Lo.” My childhood nickname for her.
“Babes, if you’re scared to, then I think you already do.”
Well, that’s a lot to unpack.
I sniffled hard, wiping my tears. “Ugh.” I sat up. “He also asked me to fly to Kansas tomorrow. Go to the show and ride back with them on the bus.”
“That’s cute as fuck. Are you going to? You know I’ll watch Angel.” I rolled my eyes.
“I know, but that’s insane! I would have to leave in like 12 hours.”
“…and?” I didn’t respond, which told her how I felt. “Leena, you don’t do spontaneous, fun stuff anymore. Did you already tell him no?”
“Thank you for that.” I sighed. “And yeah, told him I couldn’t miss group.”
“Abel can handle group for one week.” I stayed quiet. My mind was actually considering it. “You could surprise him!”
“What?”
“Yeah! Show up without telling him, and hold up a sign that says LH hearts NS or some shit! He’s sappy, he’d love it!”
“I can’t exactly get in without him knowing. The show is sold out.”
“Can’t you call Nick or Folio?”
With that, my brain kicked into place and the plan all formed in my head.
“Laura, I’ll drop Angel off in the morning.”
She laughed. “See, you love him!”
I hung up without another word.
I dug through my contacts and found Nick’s number. The show should have ended at least an hour ago, so I guessed they were still in the green room, shaking off the energy.
“C’mon, pick up Nick, pick up.”
“Hey!” The voice was loud, a ton of background noise. “Is everything okay? Do you need to talk to Noah!”
“No!” I yelled into the phone. “No, Nick I’m fine, but I need to talk to you privately.”
-
Having filled Nick in on my plan, he was on board from the moment I said the word ‘surprise’. He thought it was a great idea. He told me Noah had been homesick, and he was sure me coming would perk him right up.
I booked the earliest flight to Witchita that I could, leaving at 5AM. Laura cursed at me when she opened the door to bring Angel inside at 3AM. I dropped a quick kiss on his snout and promised to text Laura the moment I landed.
I then drove to LAX, running through the terminal to my gate, barely making it on the plane in time.
My adrenaline was on high, my backpack filled to the brim with clothes, random toiletries I may need, my wallet, and my phone charger. Everything else would just have to do without.
I understood now why Noah takes a panic day before traveling, because this was anxiety-inducing to do. I hated flying, so my heart raced the entire nearly eight hours.
Once I touched down, I grabbed an Uber to the hotel, the same one I knew they stayed at. I had four hours until the doors opened. I asked Nick for a regular GA ticket, no VIP. I needed to be the first one there so I was in the very front. He needed to see me.
Checked into my room, I slipped in a quick shower to wash the flight off of me, shivering when I got out. I stared down at my bag and realized what I had forgotten.
“Oh shit!”
I picked up my phone and dialed Nick. He answered on the first ring.
“Hey, you here yet?”
“Yeah, yeah I’m in my room. Dude! I have nothing to make a sign out of!”
“Erm…what do you need?”
I ran my hands over my forehead feverishly.
“Poster board and a big sharpie?”
He was quiet for a moment. “Okay, give me 15, let me see what I can find. Text me your room number.”
He hung up and I quickly slipped my clothes on.
My phone rang, Noah’s face flashing.
“Hey you.” I even sounded suspicious, what the fuck? I’m so bad at this.
“Hey gorgeous, you alright?”
My blood ran cold. “Yeah, why?”
“Oh, just because you went to bed early last night and then said you were busy all day. I haven’t heard much from you.”
I laughed, relieved. “Oh yeah, just hung out with Laura all day. I just got home.”
“Ah, okay. I can’t talk long, I’ve got to get ready soon. But I just wanted to check in.”
“Oh, sure! I miss you.” I sat down on the bed.
“I miss you too, baby. Only a couple more days.”
I gritted my teeth. “Yup. Home stretch.”
We said our goodbyes and as I clicked ‘End’, there was a knock at the door.
Nick stood on the other side, 5-pack of poster boards and 3-pack of giant markers in his hands. He was sweating and absolutely out of breath.
“Hi…Leena…” he said in between breaths. “I ran to the corner store and got these. I hope they work.”
I took the items from him, taking note of the color of the posters.
“Neon green?” He nodded, putting his hands on his knees.
“Yeah. Trust me. He can see it way better on stage.”
I smiled brightly. “This is perfect, Nick. Thank you!”
He smiled back. “Anytime. Now look, we take a break between Death of Peace of Mind and Just Pretend where Noah talks to the crowd and gives his little monologue. It gives him time to get his voice ready for the song.”
I listened intently.
“That’s when you hold it up. He’ll have them turn on the lights so he can look at the crowd, and that’s when you hold it up.”
“But what if he sees me before then? Won’t it be obvious if I’m in the front?”
He shook his head. “Don’t let him bullshit you. When the lights are down, we can’t see shit up there.”
-
I was the second person in line, behind a red-headed girl who looked positively irritated. She was dressed in full Bad Omens merch, reminding me that I should have worn the shirt he gave me. Instead, I wore a black tank top, black jeans, and combat boots.
When the doors opened, I walked up to the rail in front of the stage, my sign tightly wrapped in my hands, and turned my back. I didn’t want to risk him seeing me from the back.
I pulled my phone out and shot him a quick message.
Me: Have a great show tonight, babe!
His response was quick.
Noah: Yep, last one till I’m home with you.
Noah: Call you after.
The show was so long, by the time the guys actually made it on stage, I was wiped. ERRA and Invent Animate had put on great sets, but I was here for Bad Omens.
When I heard the opening chords to Death of Peace of Mind, I felt my heart jump into my throat. I sunk low by the railing, listening to Noah’s enchanting voice sing the melody.
“You come and go in waves. Leaving me in your wake.”
I swallowed hard.
“You come and go in waves. Swallowing everything.”
The guitars and drums pounded out the last verse of the song, leaving the venue dark when the lights went out.
I began unraveling the sign, questioning my entire life. This was so corny. Is this how I really wanted to do this? Make such a strong confession to him? In a fucking sign? Like a prom-posal?!
My gut twisted. I couldn’t do this. But I had to. I came all this way. Nick nearly gave himself an asthma attack getting the supplies.
And there was my guy, sauntering around the stage, monologuing, right on schedule.
He would turn the lights up any second. It’s now or never.
I lifted the sign as high as my 5’1 frame would allow, closing my eyes to the rest of the world, internally cringing at how ridiculous this was.
“Woah, we got a sign over here!” His voice was boisterous. And he saw me, or my sign, rather, as I was hiding my face behind it.
I heard him walk toward where I stood.
“Let’s see what it says.” I peeked around the side for only a second, seeing he was bent over, squinting to read the sign.
“‘I love you Noah S’, awe, thank you, that’s so sweet.” He hadn’t walked away though. “What does that say underneath?”
He was quiet for a second. He was reading my name. ‘Leena R.’
The room fell silent, or for me it did. I heard nothing but the shuffling of the microphone being put on the stand. I lowered the sign to see what was happening just as he fixed his mic on the stage.
“Give me just a second, guys.”
The crowd screamed, and he jogged over to the area of the stage directly above where I stood. With no warning, he jumped down, causing the security guard to scramble over to him. He was unfazed, walking straight up to the railing in front of me.
His eyes were wide, a giant grin nearly breaking his cheekbones.
I was sheepishly smiling back, trying hard to maintain my composure.
“You love me?” I almost couldn’t hear him over the crowd. I just nodded wildly, moisture prickling behind my eyes.
Before anything else could happen, he reached up and hooked my neck, pulling me toward the railing and crashing his lips on mine.
All I felt was vibrations, likely from the crowd exploding. His lips tasted like mint and sweat, his gloved hand rough against the back of my neck.
When he pulled away, he pressed his forehead to mine for a second.
“I fucking love you, Leena.”
-
I was still shaking, my hands tucked firmly in my jean pockets while the security guard walked me to the green room as instructed by Noah.
I could hear the concert continue, only two songs left. Noah had jumped back onstage and continued as if nothing had happened, able to breeze right past it like the professional he is.
“Okay, you can wait in here. They’ll be back here once they finish up.” I smiled at the security guard and walked past him into the room.
“Hey,” I turned to look at him. “that was a ballsy move out there. Good for you.”
I blushed hard, looking anywhere but at him. “Yeah? It felt kind of insane.”
He laughed. “It was fucking psychotic.” This wasn’t helping. “But to be honest, I never see shit like that happen. It was cool as fuck.”
He left before I could say anything else.
It wasn’t long before Folio burst through the door, obviously still hyper from the performance. Jolly and Nick followed, already chatting.
“I swear to you my rig was out of tune, dude! It kept giving me sour notes during Limits, and then Dethrone was a fucking mess.” Nick’s eyes scanned the room and found me sitting on the couch, waiting patiently. “Leena!”
I jumped up. “Hey!”
“Perfect fucking execution dude! Exactly how I pictured it.”
“Yeah? How embarrassing was it? Be honest.”
Jolly laughed, pulling his long hair back into a low ponytail. “Oh, it was adorable. I loved it.”
“It was fucking cringe, dude!” Folio’s voice called from the table that had snacks on it. He looked over, open water bottle in his hand. “It was rad as fuck!”
I relaxed my shoulders.
Noah came skipping into the room after a moment, pulling the gloves off of his hands.
“Hey!” He bound up to me, his arms coming to grab me by the hips, pulling me down to another kiss.
“I thought you couldn’t make it!”
I smirked. “I changed my mind.”
“So you didn’t spend the entire day with Laura, I gather?”
I shook my head. “Nope. I spent the day traveling.”
He had disbelief on his face. “How did you pull it off?”
“Called Nick. Booked a flight. Easy stuff.”
“I risked my life for that sign, by the way!” Nick hollered from the couch.
“Is that why you ran out of the room earlier?”
Nick just nodded in response. “I came through. Pulled the wool over your eyes.”
Noah lifted his brows at me, his expression was unreadable.
“You both are insufferable, you know that?”
-
I had brought my things to Noah’s room, not much need for my own. My legs were feeling heavy, so the walk off the elevator and down the hallway with him was my time to find the strength. Noah was a very…active…individual, and I assumed that he was going to be looking for some time together.
When we entered the room, he walked past me, immediately pulling his shirt off and sitting in the bed. Rather than looking at me with his usual hunger, his eyes looked exhausted when they met mine.
It occurred to me, Noah had been on tour for a couple of months. He was playing shows nearly every night while traveling, sometimes without even time to sleep in a hotel room. He needed rest.
“Noah?” He only tipped his chin up in response. “I think I know what you need.”
He raised his brow, the playful expression shadowing his face. “Yeah, and what’s that?”
“A shower.” It took him a second to process, but once he did, his shoulders relaxed forward and he huffed out an amused sigh.
“Yep, you’re right about that.” He ran his hand over the back of his neck.
I stepped over to him, putting my arms around his shoulders and pulling him in close. He pressed the side of his face into my chest in a comforting gesture, wrapping his own arms around my waist.
“Then, you need some sleep. Nick said we leave at 6AM.”
I could only feel him nod. I pulled back so he could look up at me.
“Why don’t we pick up on the fun stuff when we get home? And just work on recovering for now?”
I felt his body go slack.
“Oh thank God.” I shook with laughter. “I’m so fucking tired, Leena. I didn’t want to disappoint you, though.”
“You want to know a secret?”
“Hmm?”
“I’m fucking dead, dude. I’m so tired I could fall asleep standing up.”
He laughed into my chest, caging me in just a little tighter.
“Didn’t you sleep on the plane?”
“No, I uh…I’m not a great flyer.”
“Me neither, why do you think we still take a tour bus?” His voice was muffled by my shirt and he sighed heavily.
“You, mister, go get in a hot shower. Scrub off all that sweat. I will order us some food, and get a movie on.”
He groaned approvingly. “Today is the best day ever.”
He sounded small, which tugged on my heart. “I’m glad I came.”
“Me too.”
-
After a solid five hours of sleep, a morning shower (that may have included some touching), and a third cup of coffee, Noah and I were standing at the hotel check-in desk turning in his room key, and my completely useless one as well. We had fallen asleep not twenty-minutes into the horror movie I had put on after devouring a pizza. We fell asleep spooning, but he eventually rolled onto his back, and I woke up half-laying on him, sweat covering both of us.
Noah was always so chipper in the mornings, which was painful for me, as I was a creature of the night. Even after all of the caffeine, I was still wearing sweatpants, one of Noah's sweatshirts, no bra, flip-flops, and my sunglasses. My hair was hanging loose over my shoulders, not brushed out after the shower. I looked absolutely dreadful.
Still, he held my hand as we walked out to the bus, and helped my backpack off of me and let me on first. The bus was about what I expected, large, loungers lining both sides, a table near a somewhat kitchenette with a refrigerator and table. In the 'hallway' area were the bunks, a bathroom that was smaller than the one on the airplane, and in the very back was a couch with two large televisions, a couple of various gaming consoles, and some cabinets that Noah showed me were filled with snacks.
I had set myself up on one of the lounge couches while the rest of the guys loaded onto the bus. I was waving to each of them lazily as they stepped on, dropping things off in their respective bunks. Folio laid on the lounger across from me, immediately letting his eyes fall closed. I felt my own lids get heavy.
"Are we ready? Ron says we aren't stopping for at least six hours." Jolly called from the front of the bus. He received several yelps of approval in the back from Noah and Nick, who were putting their things away in the back cabinets. No response from the now comatose Folio, and just a thumbs up from me.
As the bus began to move, the vibrations had me lulled, pulling me closer to falling back asleep as my eyes watched the sun slowly rising from the window. An arm reached over me, pulling a shade closed and blocking the light, which was lovely.
I heard Noah's voice above me, so I angled my head to look up. "Going to take a nap, love?" The word made me turn my lips up tiredly.
"Mm, it's not even a nap. It's just going back to bed."
He laughed, shaking his head. "You want to lay in my bunk? The pillows smell like me." He winked, making me roll my eyes playfully.
"I'm too claustrophobic for those things." I sunk down into the cushions. "Besides, I'm so comfy."
He walked to the back, returning only a moment later with a large green blanket that was plush and warm, flinging it over me.
He bent down and placed a soft kiss on my lips. "Get some sleep. I'm going to go kick the shit out of Nick at Warzone."
"Fuck you, dude! I'm going to wipe the fucking floor with you." Nick's voice carried through the bus.
Noah was only gone for a moment before my eyes slipped closed and the movement from the bus had me in a nice, deep slumber.
The drive back home was long. Longer than I had exactly anticipated. It was now about 11PM, and Noah and I were snuggled on the couch in the back, watching through The Conjuring 2, under the same blanket I had napped under earlier. I was going to sleep back here tonight, and I had this pulling feeling that Noah was too.
I was laying sideways, pressed against his side and chest as he laid flat, legs crossed and spread long on the couch. He had one arm wrapped around me, and the other folded under his head.
I wasn't so much watching the movie, having seen it many times, but I was mostly studying him. My fingers traced the tattoos on his shirtless chest, taking note of freckles that were barely visible between the lines of ink.
After a while, I glanced up at him, seeing his eyes beginning to flutter closed. I reached my face up, and pressed a kiss to his jaw, catching his attention. His arm tightened around me, and he breathed heavy.
"I'm fighting for my life to stay awake here." His voice was deep and thick, sleepy.
I smiled. "Why not go to bed, babe? This couch is a little small for two of us."
"Cause you're wide awake, and I'm not going to leave you alone."
"I'm a big girl, Noah. I can put on something to watch and lay here until I get drowsy"
He just shook his head and cleared his throat. "I'll be okay."
I shrugged and began sitting up, needing to stretch. He followed suit.
His eyes watched me as I lifted my arms over my head, my crop top pulling and exposing the underside of my breasts. I saw his tongue slide over his bottom lip.
I quirked an eyebrow. "Can I help you?"
He smirked, reaching out to press his palm into my side, making me shiver. His hands were freezing.
"Actually..." He pulled, nearly causing me to topple into his lap.
I let out a squeal, clapping a hand over my mouth. Jolly and Nick were passed out, their snores carrying through the bus. Folio was in his bunk, watching something on his tablet with headphones in. Noah had closed the door to the back of the bus when we first came back here, but I didn't want to be a nuisance, and wake everyone.
He quietly laughed, pulling my legs on either side of him, bringing my face down to his with a hand in my hair.
Our mouths connected softly, his hands coming to rest on my sides.
I pulled back slightly, my eyes glancing over at the door.
"It's locked."
I raised my brows at him, hands resting on his shoulders. "Yeah? Had ideas of how this night was going to go?"
I tried to keep my face even, but I was struggling not to crack a smile.
"I'm not as tired tonight." His voice was low, serious.
He pressed his lips to mine again, steady but not eager. We had time. We were only halfway back to LA, most everyone was asleep, and, most importantly, we were in love.
This moment together just felt different. There was a barrier that had been up, completely fallen now, leaving us bare to each other and vulnerable.
Slowly, he lifted my shirt over my head, drinking in the sight in front of him. His mouth came down on my chest, teeth leaving soft bites as he worked toward my left nipple slowly, painfully. His lips locked onto my nipple, and my head fell back. His hands pulled my hips down, only the fabrics of our sweats between us. The hard bulge ground against my core, making me moan softly.
We stayed this way for a long time, writhing together, his mouth moving from my nipples to my neck, to my mouth. I tugged on his shirt, pulling it over his head. For a second, I stood off of him, and intentionally pulled my pants down as slowly as possible, causing him to groan.
Once I had kicked them off, I reached down and grabbed onto his, only pulling them down enough to let his erection free. I then regained my spot straddling him, sliding myself over him, our mouths hot on each other. When I felt the head of his cock bump my entrance, we both froze for a second. His eyes latched onto me.
We both stared for longer than a moment, trying to decide what we do here. I wasn't on birth control. I knew I was clean. I trusted him to tell me if he wasn't. As stupid as it was, it didn't bother me. Nothing bothered me here. Nothing.
I sunk down, letting him slide into me, and I watched as his mouth fell open, eyes wide. This wasn't just us having sex on the back of a tour bus where someone could hear or see. This was more. This was something else entirely.
I felt every inch of him, all the way to the hilt, and my eyes fluttered closed, my bottom lip caught in my teeth. I was adjusting to the size, having only felt it the one time before, months ago.
"Look at me." His voice was nothing more than a breath.
I opened my eyes, staring at him, tears stinging the corners of my eyes. I couldn't say if it was from the slight pain of the penetration, or the sheer emotion I had for Noah.
His hands held me in place by my sides, keeping me from moving an inch.
"I love you, Leena."
A tear spilled down my face, and I sucked in a hard breath.
"I love you, Noah. So fucking much."
I felt his fingers release me ever so gently, and I bucked my hips, causing the most delicious friction that pulled a moan out of both of us. Again, I clapped a hand over my mouth to keep myself from giving us away, and began a slow rhythm of bouncing up and down, each thrust pushing me toward a finish line I so desperately wanted.
He leaned his head back against the cabinet, his breathing so heavy I thought his chest might burst.
"Jesus Christ, baby. Don't fucking stop." He was too loud, he would have the entire bus knowing what we were doing.
I reached my hand up to cover his mouth too, but he snatched my wrist in his hand, reaching up and grabbing the other from over my mouth. He held both wrists in one hand, and pinned them between us, not letting me free while his hips bucked, pressing him deeper and deeper each time I landed on top of him.
He leaned his head in to whisper in my ear. "Stay quiet baby, wouldn't want anyone to know."
Small squeaks escaped with nearly every thrust, my eyes beginning to roll back. I grit my teeth to keep the sound from escaping.
"That's it. Good job, baby." His eyes were half-masked when he spoke, one hand gripping my wrists in a deadly tight grasp, the other lifting my hips for leverage. "You're trying so hard to keep quiet. So good, princess."
His words were giving me a familiar tingling sensation in my belly, my climax coming closer the more he spoke.
"Look so fucking pretty when you ride my cock. Missed that tight pussy so much."
I let a small whine out and his body stilled instantly. My eyes snapped open, and he narrowed his eyes at me. The irises were black, his expression was serious.
"What did I say? You need to keep quiet."
My eyes widened, but my head nodded frantically. The lack of friction was becoming painful.
"I'm sorry."
He released my wrists, my hands falling lifelessly to my side. Both of his hands snaked up my chest, reaching my shoulders. His right hand reached up, wrapping his fingers gently around my throat and slowly adding pressure until I felt my windpipe compressing ever so slightly.
The sensation was sickeningly delicious and my legs naturally jerked in an attempt to gain sensation.
"You will do as I say, is that understood?" I nodded. He reached a hand around me and grabbed a fist full of skin from my ass, pulling me forward. His hand tightened on my throat.
"Now, ask nicely for me to fuck you."
I gasped, his hand loosening to let air through.
"Please, Noah. Please...fuck me."
His hand released my neck, coming down to grab my ass and began bucking up into me violently. I fell forward against him. His arms then wrapped around my chest as I felt the coil in my body pull tighter and tighter. I pulled back to look him in the eyes, his expression wild.
I leaned down and bit into his neck hard, causing a strangled sound to come from his throat as I felt him slow his thrusts. I used the opportunity to grind myself harder against him, the contact pushing me over the edge, my orgasm tearing out of me.
I rode down onto him hard, slowing with each thrust, until we were both panting against each other.
"Are you okay?" He breathed out after a moment, having calmed to nearly normal.
I only nodded in response.
"I've never done...that before." His voice was entirely different now, sounding nearly nervous.
"What?" I expected him to be referring to the choking. It wasn't my first time, but any other time had been pretty dissatisfying, to say the least.
"Having sex...without a condom."
I pulled back to look at him, my brows raised in disbelief.
"Really?"
He was chewing on his lip. "I trust you. I just..." He trailed off, his mind clearly racing. "I'm clean, I swear I am."
I only chuckled at this, rolling off of him and snatching my pants off of the floor. He pulled his up as well.
"I am, too. However," I slipped my shirt over my head. "I'm not on the pill, so we'll need to grab a Plan B when we get back to civilization."
His eyes widened. "I didn't even fucking think of that."
I stood up, stretching. "Luckily for you, I did."
We turned the movie off, as we had missed most of it already anyway. We sat facing each other, cross-legged on the couch, eating snacks out of our respective bags; I had Cheez-Its and he had Reese's Pieces.
"Are you from LA, originally?"
I shook my head. "No, I was born in Washington, but only lived there until I was about five. When my mom died, my Dad moved us to LA. Him and Mom lives there before I was born, and she was buried in East Los Angeles. He said it only made sense.”
"What does he do?" He popped a candy into his mouth.
"He's has a wood-working business. Builds furniture and does art pieces. He doesn't do much of the actual labor stuff anymore, at his age, but he still loves to carve. He has six stores in LA County, two in San Bernardino, and one up in Alameda."
Noah looked thoroughly impressed. "Fucking nice!"
"Yeah, he's my best friend. Best Dad ever." I smiled thinking about my Dad. I would be calling him the moment I got home to update him on my trip.
I looked up at Noah, my turn to ask questions.
"Why go to an AA group in Orange County when you live all the way in Calabasas?"
He twirled a candy in his fingers, shrugging. "Well, when I google searched AA meetings, I didn't want to risk anyone seeing me, so I didn't want to be too close by. I also didn't want to travel too far so I wouldn't have an excuse not to go. Then I narrowed it down to meeting not associated with any churches or religious groups. That's how I found yours."
"What made you decide it was time for AA?"
He was looking down into his bag, and I saw the expression on his face change. I had hit a nerve somewhere, but I wasn't sure where.
"It's like I said before, I had some downtime and figured it was time."
"I don't believe that."
His head snapped up to look at me. "What?"
"Well, maybe in general that's true, but there's usually something. One thing that leads you to AA. It's rare when you just wake up one day, realize you have a problem, and then walk into a meeting."
His eyes narrowed. "Well, that's what happened to me."
He didn't want to keep talking about this, I could tell, but something was there that he wasn't saying. I elected to let it go. I'm no longer his sponsor, maybe I'm not entitled to that information anymore.
Maybe.
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gennyanydots · 1 year
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Sorry about your small…
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Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x f!reader
Part of the Spitfire Universe
Not necessary to have read them all but makes more sense to have read “Preschool Family Day”
“I’m sorry about your small penis, asshole!” You yelled to the vehicle in the turning lane as you finally passed them, completely forgetting your window was open.
You were late. Again. Like normal.
You told your best friend you would meet her at 5 and it’s 5:15 already and you’re still ten ish minutes away.
And the stupid vehicle in front of you was slower than molasses in the winter and clearly did not have the urgency you did.
You try to take some deep breaths to calm down. You’ll get there. It’s not like your best friend isn’t very much aware of your proclivities but you feel bad. So every time you try so hard to make up the time driving. You don’t drive recklessly per se, you’re still cautious and follow the laws vaguely, you just drive a little quicker sometimes.
By the time you get to the restaurant that you were meeting your friend at you completely forget about the car in front of you but maybe you shouldn’t have…
Your work week had turned out to be pretty good. Nothing out of the ordinary made for a nice week. No surprises. No messes. Nobody’s been sick. Plus, the whole week you had been looking forward to Friday, not that you’d admit it.
Eli Seresin told you on Monday that his favorite Uncle Rooster was picking him up early on Friday. You loved it when Uncle Rooster picked him up. Who wouldn’t?
What’s not to like about an attractive, caring man picking up his adopted nephew from preschool early to hangout together and have ‘guy time’? A man that would flirt with you every time he came by while simultaneously being the nicest man you’d ever talked to. He’s definitely had you swooning over him since he first came to the school for special adult day a couple months ago. Pretty consistently Uncle Rooster picks up Eli at least once every two weeks, either at normal pick up time or early for their special Rooster and Eli time. Sometimes you wonder if he’s doing it to be nice or if he’s doing it to see you. You haven’t felt bold enough to ask yet.
Usually if Rooster is picking Eli up early he does so a little before nap time is finished which meant today you had to race out and grab something for lunch and race back so you didn’t miss him. That would ruin your whole week. You didn’t mind spending most of your lunch break in the dark room with your assistant instead of spending time away from the kids, it’s not like you needed it. You loved your class most of the time.
The line at the fast food place you stopped at took a bit longer than you had hoped for and had you speeding back to work with your fingers crossed praying you hadn’t missed Bradley. That would ruin your whole day. And if you’re being honest with yourself probably your whole weekend too.
When you passed the visitor parking area you thought you noticed a car you vaguely recognized but you couldn’t remember why. It wasn’t a normal looking car. You figure it probably was one of your coworkers’ significant other’s car or something who parked there for some reason.
You open the door to the building just in time to see Bradley walking towards you with two armfuls of a sleeping Eli and you smile, “That’s a very sleepy baby you got there.”
Bradley chuckles, “He wasn’t feeling waking up so I figured might as well take him home with me and we can both nap on the couch.”
“That sounds like a great afternoon,” you say holding the door open for Bradley to walk through.
He nods his thanks to you, “Hey, do you think you can open my car door for me? I could do it but I don’t want to jostle him too much. He’s grumpy like his mama when he gets woken up too early.”
You laugh and nod, “I’m grumpy when I get woken up too.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Bradley says as he walks towards the vehicle you thought you recognized earlier. Huh. Weird. You must have just seen it here before.
He nods towards the right side and you quickly open the door for him and he slides Eli out of his arms and into his car seat, strapping him in carefully and efficiently, before gently closing the door.
“Thanks so much,” Bradley says to you and you nod.
“It was no problem at all,” you say and smile.
Bradley heads to the driver side and opens the door then leans in and starts the car but doesn’t slide into the car yet, instead turning towards you.
You look at the sleeping Eli and wave at him even though you know he’s asleep then walk to stand at the back of Bradley’s car, “Well, I hope you two have a fun time napping.”
Bradley chuckles, “Oh, I’m sure we will. He’ll probably nap for a little and then beg me to go to the beach or something.”
“Sounds like a perfect afternoon.”
Bradley nods, “Yep, then I’ll send him back to his parents and go hang out with some buddies of mine. You should come out with us if you’re not busy.”
“And why should I come out with you, Uncle Rooster?” You ask teasingly.
He grins and takes a few steps towards you and bends close to your ear, “Cause the other day you said something and I’ve been thinking about how I need to prove you wrong ever since.”
You look up at him confused. You can’t remember saying anything odd to him lately, “What did I say?”
Bradley chuckles, “You said I had a small penis and I very much so would love to show you just how wrong you are.”
You gulp and try to think back, “I… I don’t think I said that to you.”
He nods, “You yelled it out your window at me when you passed me. Said ‘Sorry about your small penis, asshole’.”
Shit. Of course the one time you yell something like that it’s at someone you know. That’s why you remember his car. Your face heats up, “I am so, so, so sorry. I didn’t realize that was you.”
He brings a hand up and gently brushes your cheek with the back of his first two fingers, “No worries. In fact I thought it was pretty funny. But I do want you to know that isn’t the case if you’re interested. Can’t have a pretty girl thinking less of me. Not that I’m sure I couldn’t still show you a great time if it was true. It’s not the plane, sweetheart, it’s the pilot.”
You bite your lip and nod, “So, if I was interested where would I go later?”
Rooster smiles and gets out his phone and hands it to you, “Put your number in, honey. I’ll text you the details.”
You do and hand it back then take a couple steps backwards towards the school, “I look forward to being proven wrong.”
Bradley winks at you, “I think you’ll have a good time.” 
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hello !! it’s lovely seeing a new writer in the OW community,, lots of new life!!
i would love to formally request a Cassidy x GN!Reader, with the prompt: “Put that down, let me hold your hands damn it!”
i was thinking the reader could be a medic of some sorts, who gets lost in their work often, and Cassidy is trying to confess to them.
i cannot wait to see what you come up with, and all of the other stories that you’ll write!! much love <3
I love this damn ask so much more than you realize Cassidy is my baby boy.
Warnings: none
Take a Breather
He was your partner. He carried out the missions, you kept him alive. Sure there where plenty of others you worked with, but you two just meshed in the field.
However at base, you were hardly ever within a thirty yard radius of each other. Cassidy had training to do and meetings to be in, and you had work to do in the medical wing, you being in charge of expense reports and the incident report keeper. Sure a cup of coffee could be shared between you two on a Saturday afternoon, but that came once every blue moon.
On the other hand, Cole couldn’t shake his dislike of the situation. He liked your presence, your witty comments, and your genuine care with him, never as gruff and blunt with him like everyone else. You were softer with him, and he liked to match the tone. He would never be this polite with anyone but Ana Amari herself, and he hasn’t seen her in ages.
Somehow though, today he had made his way to your office, two cups of coffee in hand and a few words on his chest he needed to get off.
“Knock knock,” he backed through the door of your office, “I’d use my hands but I figured you’d want this in a mug and not on the floor.”
“Cole!” You whipped around from the book case you where rummaging through, causing the cowboy to laugh, “hey there.”
“You can relax hun, ain’t nothing wrong.”
You met him at the door and grabbed a mug from him, setting it on the corner of your desk while you went back to your bookshelf, “thank you, really, I know you don’t have much time in your day to swing by.”
“You’d be surprised, my day has been slower than molasses.”
“Really? I wish I could say the same Cowboy,” you picked out a binder and began flipping through the contents.
“You know, I was thinking, maybe we could…” he trailed off, noticing your attention was divided. He cleared his throat a little and waited for you to look back up.
“I’m sorry where are you saying something?”
“Oh it’s nothing, I was just thinking maybe we could go for a walk? Or a breath of fresh air?” He nodded towards the door, “it’s a beautiful day.”
“I’d love to, but I just have a lot of reports to go through in the next few weeks and-“
“Why don’t you put that down and hold my hands damn it.” You stopped in your tracks, turning around to face the cowboy.
He tried to feign confidence, a blush tinting his cheeks redder than a fire truck. He stood awkwardly and tried to remain firm, but you could see his struggle.
“Oh?” Your amusement would win the battle with your virtue, wanting to see where this would go.
He took off his glove, shoving it in his back pocket, and he wiped his hand on his pants, ‘Is he nervous?’ The smile you held grew as he went on, making his little stand.
“Yes, and I think you overwork yourself, so let’s go now, and I’ll help you pick up later?” He extended his hand to you, a pleading look behind his eyes.
“Why not,” you shrug, “I haven’t taken my break yet today anyway,, it would be good to stretch my legs and take a breather” you place your hand in his, interlocking your fingers together as he leads you down the hallway.
He takes you around the corner and out the door, the medical wing courtyard. ‘He was right, it is beautiful,’ you let him lead you over to a bench where you both sat, him taking your other hand into his as well.
“I would first like to say, I am sorry for my outburst,” his hands where larger than yours, holding yours as if they where fragile, “but secondly, I would like to just have some time to talk to you one on one, ya’know? I knew you wouldn’t go for just anything, but I didn’t quite think through my execution.”
You nodded, giving his fingers a light squeeze, “I’m sorry I got caught up in my work. There has just been a lot to do with the rest of the med team out and being on my own. I am, however, glad you pulled me away.”
You could see him relax a bit, a small sigh of relief pushing past his lips, “Good, because I’d hate to tell you I like you with you mad at me.”
“Well that would be hard ye-“ you stopped yourself, widening your eyes at him. “Excuse me?”
“I like you, a lot. It’s not just working with you, even though it’s a leading factor to this,” his thumbs rubbed the back of your hands, “I just think you are a wonderful person, and I, uh, would like to test the waters of that feeling.”
His eyes where shielded by his hat, you had never seen him this nervous, much less not even look you in the eyes.
“Cole, look at me,” you took his hat off and swept his hair out of his eyes, “I like you too, and I’d love to help you test those waters.”
His eyes where a bit watery and his smile was wide, ‘was he this afraid of me telling him no? Why would he ever think like that?’
The hug he locked you in was bone crushing, which you reciprocated as best you could, “thank you,” he spoke into your shoulder, “I want to do my best with this.”
“Well you’ve gotten this far Cowboy, I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
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WAIT WAIT WAIT I AM A CLOWN AND A FOOL
FOR THE HADESTOWN LYRICS, TAAKITZ IS *RIGHT THERE*
KRAVITZ IS A MUSICIAN
But if you want to do either blupjeans or taakitz, that's cool lol because I feel like those lyrics specifically is good for blupjeans, but the song in general is very taakitz and aaaahhhhhh
Anyway, I hope you have a lovely day lol <3
"So you're the Grim Reaper." It's not a question, rather a statement of fact.
"That's a name some people call me, yes."
"Like, The Grim Reaper, tee em tee em tee em?"
"The very same."
"Huh." He pauses for a moment. Sits back on his hands as the breeze beckons the tall grass to dance in the wind. It tickles his forearms, bare from where he's rolled up his sleeves. "Are you here to kill me?"
He shakes his head and laughs. Gently, no hint of malice for ten country miles. "No, not at all."
He squints. "Then what're you here for?"
A shrug. "I was wrapping up another job—"
"You killed someone else?
"I shepherded his soul to the Astral Plane, yes."
He nods before motioning for him to continue.
"I was in the area and I saw advertisements for your show. It looked entertaining so I decided to stop by."
"Didya like it?"
A nod. "I did. I haven't cooked in so many years. It was nice to see someone so skilled and passionate."
"So were you alive then? At one point?"
"Awfully forward aren't we?"
"Sorry. Just curious."
"Don't be, I would do the same thing in your position. Yes, once upon a time, I was alive. I was a performer like you. Not cooking though. Music."
He softens. Clearly he wasn't expecting such an honest answer. "What'd you play?"
"Anything I could get my hands on. I had a real soft spot for strings though. The violin was my favorite."
"Can you not play anymore?" He chews his lip before snapping, a brilliant epiphany having come over him. "Ah, I get it, you're one of those ghosts so you can't touch anything from the living world."
He reaches out a cold hand, making gentle connection with an impossibly warm wrist. "Nope. I just so rarely have the time."
He looks at the connection but doesn't move to terminate it. "I'd like to hear sometime." He smiles something small and a little self conscious. "If I'm not being too forward again, that it."
"I don't think you are. What's your name, handsome?"
"Taako. And yours?"
"Kravitz. It's a pleasure to meet you, Taako."
-
They laze around in the grass for what feels like moments but the arc of the sun in the sky suggests has been hours. They lie in the soft sunbeams, talking about nothing and everything. As the day goes on, they inch closer and closer until they're hardly any distance apart. Their fingers intertwine until their hands reach a temperature equilibrium.
Truly, Kravitz is content to stay like that forever, though the feather the length of his forearm that lands in his lap, materializing from seemingly nowhere, seems intent on not letting him fall victim to such displays of sloth.
He groans and sits up, idly twirling the feather in the fingers of his unoccupied hand.
Taako gazes up at him. "Duty calls?"
"It does, I'm sorry to say." Kravitz squeezes his hand as though Taako is a kite threatening to fly away into the vast blue expanse. "I'll be back soon. I promise. Wait for me?"
A smile. "I will."
---
To say that time doesn't flow exactly the same for Kravitz now than it used to is an understatement, though it's hardly been a problem in the past few years. The Raven Queen moves on an even slower cosmological time scale than he does so it's become hard to notice these incremental changes. Seconds turn to minutes, minutes to hours, hours to days; the sand in his hourglass moves more akin to molasses these days.
Of course, Kravitz doesn't know this. What reason would he have to know this? Not many mortals he spends time with these days. So when he tells Taako he'll be back soon, he believes is.
He just has a few jobs to deal with.
Circle of necromancers, spooky death cult, nothing he can't dispatch with ease.
The paperwork, on the other hand? Kravitz is certain that the paperwork is a special cosmic punishment for him.
But in what feels like only a few hours' time and he's—
And he's being debriefed for another quick case. Nothing special, just the murder of a quarter of a little frontier town. A quick stop in to investigate and he'll be able to drop back in on—
"Taako?" He asks the moment he steps through the rift he's sliced for himself.
He looks haggard. Horrified. With 40 bodies around him, how could he not be?
Taako looks at him, a slurry of emotions pulsing across his face. "This isn’t... I-I didn't..." He stammers out. Anger takes the stage on his face. "Where the fuck were you?"
Kravitz tries to take stock of the situation. "I was summoned by my Lady. Taako, what happened? Did you do this?"
"That was four years ago," he spits. Another evaluation of the surroundings. "I don't know what happened," he says, voice barely above a whisper, laboring under about six layers of emotion.
Kravitz blinks at him. "I-I never meant to be gone so long. I'm sorry. I'm sure you thought I forgot about you. But doing this to attract my attention?"
"I would never," Taako’s ears twitch more the more incensed he becomes. He shakes his head and looks like he's about to start dry-heaving. "This wasn't me. I don't think it was me, anyway."
"You don't know?"
"I think maybe a spell went wrong but I don't know and my one witness just turned tail on me and ran and I think he's going to report me to the militia and who could blame him? I'm th-this monster!" He says, his voice climbing several decibel hills. And then it clicks. "Even you're here to kill me!"
"Taako. Taako. Listen to me. I'm not here to kill anyone. This is an unusual event. A tragedy. I intend on finding out what happened here after I assist these individuals in making it home." He hesitates in saying home but it appears as though Taako catches his meaning well enough. "I'd like to talk to you about what happened here. I promise i will work more swiftly now than I did. I want to get to the bottom of this. And I'm going to need your help doing it. So, will you wait for me?"
Taako chews his lip, pointedly avoiding looking at the scene around him. And then, at long last, a small nod. "I will."
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carusolikey · 3 months
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Paddington 3: Lost in Mallorca, Part 2/5
Pairing: Javier Gutierrez x afab!fem!reader
Rating: Explicit / NSFW 18+ (No Minors)
Summary: A sexy day in the life of Javi, his afab female partner, and their adorable little puppy. The fantasy is the reality - what would it be like to be Javi's one and only, to laugh and play, and get down with your bad selves (wink, wink - nudge, nudge)? You two feed into your love of movies, tv, and popular culture, as well as your ooky, kooky, spooky sides! This is fluffy and smutty, best of both worlds.
Warnings: A bit of rough sex/smut (fingering, fem penetration, oral [m + f receiving]), food play, 18+ only content, able bodied fem afab reader, alcohol consumption, pet names, fem can be carried, consensual "bondage", some use of y/n - but not in all, though consensuality is implied and intended through actions and reactions, no protection used / committed relationship
Additional Warning: Author has a weird sense of humor.
Word Count: 12,500 + (Sorry?)
Part 3 Here
Masterlist Here
“Never any other barrier greater, eh?”
I sighed, “No.”
“Querida, I believe in you.”
Perking up, I decided I could psych myself up and get past this major hurdle, “There is a reason that I always practiced tying cherry stems into knots when I was young. The time to demonstrate those transferable skills is NOW.”
So, I set to it. I used my tongue to hold the button in place, and used my top teeth to pull the material over the button, “Et voila!” I beamed at Javi.
“That’s so great. Now we only have to get past the zipper,” his smile was beatific as he gave me a wink - I think he was honestly proud of me.
The zipper was a little bit rougher, trying to balance while he held my hands upright at an angle proved to be difficult. I used my lips to pull it down very, very carefully. Especially when I determined that he wasn’t wearing any boxers. Looking up at him, I realized the trust was very, very strong. Thank god he wasn’t wearing boxers or anything else, though - I can’t imagine trying to pull down everything else and then still having energy for the job I intended to do.
“Good job, mi amor!” Javi bit his lip, “I think I can help a little from here.” He pushed back against me to get himself a little bit upright, and his pants fell a bit below his waist.
Breathing a sigh of relief, “Finally!” I exhaled, taking in the sight of his glorious cock.   
I bent down, ready to take him in my mouth and I understood that this was going to be quite a bit harder than I’d expected. Not being able to hold him steady, I was going to have to go a lot slower, otherwise this was just going to be like hanging out with those giant inflatable waving arm guys that are usually outside of car dealerships. No. Not today. This is going to be sexy. I am going to make this sexy. Slow and steady. Slow and motherfucking steady.
Easing down, Javi’s strong arms supporting me, I gave the tip of his penis a kiss and quick lick, looking up at him and giving him a smile, I wet my lips. Wrapping them carefully around the head to keep him steady, I swirled my tongue right where head meets shaft, tasting his precum, moaning happily with my eyes closed, and started to move up and down. 
Opening my eyes, I looked up at Javi, whose eyes were pools of sweet molasses - I would happily drown in them. He gave me a heart-melting smile back, so I went a little bit faster, and he jerked on the counter, “Ahh - yeah, like that.” 
I ran the tip of my tongue back and forth on the underside of his shaft, holding him steady with my mouth, as far down as I could go. “Oh, oh - no, hang on. No. I want to cum inside of you.” 
Using the force of our interlocked hands, he pushed me back, hopped off the island and wrapped his arms around me, lifting me up so that I could wrap my legs around him. Smiling at him, glowing at him, actually - Javi smiled right back at me and gave me a full-bodied kiss as he set me down on the countertop. Hands together, he kissed both of mine, then pushed me back on the island as I gasped, startled by the sudden transition from upright to horizontal.
This time, it was his turn to bare his teeth and show off his skills as he lifted my skirt, then slowly slid my silk lingerie off with his mouth. Pulling me back up to vertical, he gave me another kiss, then kissed down my neck, nuzzling right in the sweet spot where it tickles a little, but also makes you forget where you are - so what, who cares? No place else exists, right? 
I took a deep, happy breath in - only to be shocked and appalled when Javi stepped away. He took our hands, and spread my legs wide, and I was no longer appalled but excited. Pushing my skirt up, he pulled me to the edge of the counter, then kneeled down in front of me. He started kissing my inner thighs, pulling my right leg over his shoulder, and when he paused, he took a long, slow, deep breath. Breathing me in before he put his mouth over my clit. Moving his tongue quickly in just the right spot, I twitched in place, and he moved down, looking up at me with his big brown eyes and licking into my vagina - then right back up and over my clit, causing me to twitch in place again as he watched my face.
“JAVI!” I gasped, pulling, and then pulling again - trying to get him to stand, “Please, please, Javi!”
“What, what - what?” Javi stood up, a little breathless, a concerned look on his face.
I smiled, cheeks flushed - catching my breath, “I need you to fuck me.”
With a crooked, half smile, through some deep pants, “Oh. Oh. Okay. Yes, yes. Okay!”
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My eyes traveled down his glistening chest, to his pants, unbuttoned and unfurled, his cock firmly at attention. I licked my lips and looked back at his face, as he grinned and came closer, pulling me up at the same time. 
With my face now inches from his, I cracked a smile and asked, “Are we doing this?”
“What do you mean?” Slightly confused, but still looking like an eager, oversized puppy, he paused, waiting for me to explain.
“The hands - together? Can we touch each other yet?” 
He made a little yelp, “Well, uh --" he stopped, looked around, then to my side, and seeing the very, very melty ice cream, he pushed it into the sink with his arm while still holding my hands, “I think that should be good. Yes. That should be good.” Nodding his head in affirmation lightly, satisfied with the state of affairs.
Javi then pulled our hands close between us - he let go, simultaneously rubbing his fingers in and out between mine, kissing my hands. Then, putting my hands on his face, he leaned his cheek into my hand and taking his hands, slowly caressed his way up each arm, drawing lines with the back of his fingers. Every light touch tingled, and I reached my other hand into the back of his hair, stroking upwards, just the way he likes it. He leaned his forehead close to mine, and I could feel the strands of sweat soaked hair hiding close to the skin.
I turned my face up towards him and whispered, “Fuck me, Javi.”
With a deep breath in, raising his shoulders and another deep breath out, he went for it. Pulling me close he kissed me like he was fucking my mouth, his hands wandered my body, over my slightly sticky breasts, giving them a soft but firm squeeze, then pulling me into him until our bodies were practically one together. I could feel his dick rubbing against my clit, and then his hand was on it, directing it, using it like he’d used his tongue on me earlier. Rubbing against my clit, edging into my vagina, but just enough to drive me a little bit insane. Our bodies as we kissed, pulsated, moving in rhythm together - I begged him again, “Javi, please.”
As we rolled back into each other, he pulled his face back and said, “I love you, cara mia,” and pushed into me as I breathed out into a satisfied gasp of, “yes, mon cher!” looking him right back in those delicious eyes. 
All the way in, feeling completely full, and wrapping my legs around him - just so that he could be even closer. So close that he rubbed against my clit, and continued to hit against my g spot, rotating his hips into me with a powerful, steady thrust. Taking his time, watching me, kissing me, telling me over and over how much he loves me, switching back and forth between English and Spanish. 
Of course I say it back, it’s what fuels us. Until I feel myself start to shudder and clench uncontrollably, and Javi slows down to push through, his climax coming to fruition as I squeeze him, pulling him into me. And I feel it - the clenching from his side, the warm trickle, and he lays down on top of me, and pretends to snore.
Laughing, I call out his name, “Javi! No! You can’t fall asleep on top of me on the counter in the kitchen!” Playfully, punching his arms, “I can’t stay like this all night,” I fake a dramatic sob, “You can’t leave Baby on the counter!”
“WHAT?! You did NOT just invoke Dirty Dancing!” He pulled himself up, puffing his chest, but did not pull himself out - and threw his open guayabera on the floor in mock disgust and anger. 
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Pulling me up, he also managed to pull my skirt over my head simultaneously - the last remaining item of clothing and decency I had. He picked me up, with my legs wrapped around him, took his phone out of his back pocket and kicked his pants off while cursing in Spanish under his breath. Grabbing the phone, he started walking off carrying me, inside me still.
“Where are we going, mi vida??”
“Mi vida, mi vida,” he mumbled, “Don’t worry about it,” he snapped.
Taken aback, I decided to relax and enjoy the ride. I heard him open a door and it became quickly apparent that we were outside in the backyard. A lush, beautiful, private yard with a pool overlooking the ocean. Small white lights provided a soft glow, and the pool emanated its own watery light and aura. 
All of a sudden, as I heard and felt the splashing of water, I realized that Javi was taking steps into the pool. Glancing around, I noticed that he was looking at his phone. I squinted trying to look at the screen that he was intentionally moving around so that I couldn’t see it, and scowled. Once he seemed satisfied with that, he set the phone on a towel near the side of the pool, and pushed off the side, swimming us both into the center.
Looking at Javi, he had that sly smile, and I knew trouble was brewing. But also, something weird was happening. I turned my head every which way, trying to figure out what was going on. The sun was setting, but was it getting lighter out? 
Then I discovered the culprit - the lights on the patio of the backyard had been set to slowly pulse and change colors. Faintly, I heard music, the sound of a guitar getting louder and then the melodic voice of a woman, singing in Spanish, while the lights around the pool danced.
With his right arm looking like Michelangelo carved it out of marble, I rested my left arm on top, and he took my right hand in his left. Javi began to move me through the steps of a Spanish boléro. For three minutes, or perhaps for two lifetimes lived side by side, we said nothing - we just glided through the water, eyes focused on each other, two little water nymphs enjoying time outside the existence of humans. 
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As the music came to its natural end, Javi held me in a shallow dip. Chuckling together, he pulled me back up, gave me a kiss and I wrapped my arms around him. “What song was that?”
“Salva Negra, by La Lá, or Giovanna Núñez. She’s a Peruvian singer and producer - really, really excellent. Her music is like a, a fusion of traditional Peruvian music, but also jazz, bossa nova, bolero, guaracha….” he trailed off.
“Selva Negra means Black Forest, is that right?”
“¡Sí, es cierto!”
“My DuoLingo is really paying off, huh?” I gave him a big, awkward grin.
“Claro, amor,” he touched my chin, and smiled. 
I think he would be proud of me no matter what, but that’s never going to stop me from trying to expand on my limited base. The intimacy of knowing each other’s language spurs me, and my thoughts begin to meander as I look up at the stars. Taking a moment, I stopped myself from letting my thoughts drift off even further - to whether or not I missed today’s Duo lesson, if my streak might be frozen (is it??), and focused instead on what’s in front of me. 
“What is Selva Negra about?”
Swirling me around, he exclaimed, “That’s a great question! And I’m so glad you asked,” he looked down at me with his disarming half smile, and I knew I was about to get a famous Javi passion piece.
“The song starts with the line, 'A la medida de mi ansia imagino tu esencia,’ - ‘to the measure of my longing, I imagine your essence’ --” taking my hand, and lifting it above my head, he spun me in small slow circles, "In the ‘virgen selva'--” I spoke up, "Virgin forest?” and he continued, “Hmm, more like virgin jungle, she says that she’s lost her way, but ‘aún conservo pajaritos,’ –” he paused to kiss me, "— ‘flores, dudas, premuras carnívoras y rudas.’ - ‘I still have little birds, flowers, doubts, carnivorous and rude haste’.”
My eyebrows raised with that, "Was she watching us?”
Laughing quietly, blushing a bit, Javi went on, “Well, she also says, ’olvidándome las cosas dolorosas que me matan de ti,’ which well,” I looked at him expectantly, “it basically means, ‘forgetting the painful things that kill me about you’.”
I gasped in mock anger, “What?! What is that supposed to mean? What painful thing about me is killing you? How dare you!”
“The toilet paper, when you change the roll, it should go over the back, not the front - Paddington wants to play with it, he loves the toilet paper,” charismatically and with grace he aired his grievance, miming with one hand the over / under predicament.    
Sullenly, I gave my response, “Over the back is literally and actually for animals. How can I contest that? Your argument is sound,” recovering quickly, I perked up, “I yield to the handsome, naked gentleman in the pool. But please, continue with my musical education,” waving him on with my hand.
With a quick and respectful bow of his head, “Yes, of course,” Javi began the business of weaving more musical threads together. “As I was saying,” he cleared his throat very loudly, looking at me, “she also follows that line with, ‘y recordando deliciosas con que me haces morir’,” raising his eyebrow, “which of course means, ‘and remembering the delicious things with which you make me die’.”
While he had been leading me through various slow dance moves in the pool, talking me through this, moving back and forth through gentle spins and close dips - I stopped when I heard that lyric. 
Repeating it slowly back to him, “y recordando deliciosas con que me haces morir?”
He nodded.
“Is that supposed to be a sex thing?” I gave him a firm, curiously skeptical look, “Like la petite mort? Komm süßer tod?”
Javi’s rich, baritone laugh caused his chest to shake, “And if it were?” 
He grinned and pulled me close to him so that we could just float together, “I think ultimately, the song is a poem about longing to connect, but being hesitant because of the pleasure and especially the pain that can exist within relationships. That memories and fantasies can impact how we approach new and current situations,” he quickly raised and lowered his eyebrows, then licked his lips, “and perhaps alludes to the allure of the unknown.”
As he spoke of the unknown, his hand slowly slid down my stomach until his middle finger found itself pretending like it was in unknown territory, downplaying its own experience, on what I can personally confirm is an impressive CV. Mockingly, I rolled my eyes at Javi, took a deep breath and then sunk into the water. 
Underwater, I opened my eyes and immediately pushed myself closer to Javi, grabbed onto one leg and then carefully wrapped one hand around his penis, which I promptly began to suck on like my life depended on it. I held my breath for as long as I could, but it wasn’t long enough. Disappointed, and certain that I was not going to get into the Olympics with a time like that, I came up through the surface of the water, using both hands to smooth my hair back.
Javi was laughing, “You look like the Little Mermaid, but a very, very naughty version. I mean, I would watch this, but this is not going to air on Disney+.” He grabbed onto my wrist and pulled me close, giving me a hundred little pecks and kisses on my mouth, cheeks, neck, “Thank you, thank you, thank you - that was so nice.”
“I didn’t make you cum, though,” I said disappointedly, “There just wasn’t enough oxygen in my lungs to keep me down there. I think I need to start training or something.”
“Ah, but you definitely made me feel amazing, and I can think of other ways I’d like to finish.” He gently turned me around so that we both were facing the ocean, watching the moon rise and reflect off the water.
Wrapped up in his arms, watching the stars fade into focus one by one, feeling his hard dick in my back - this was certainly a moment that I’d be holding onto. I turned my head to look behind me and he bent his head down to give me a full kiss on the lips. As we turned back to the sky, we each started pointing out constellations.
Keep Reading 3/5
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the-firebird69 · 5 months
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We're going to send out orders now to stop these people it's terrible what you're doing is terrible
Their population on the island of New Zealand is very low their ultimate already there overnight and Australia their presence is very low they have probably 49% and they're going down tonight there's a big bombing campaign by the empire itself and they're going to destroy the place. The moments the attack on the ceilings will be killed by any raid will begin and on the trumps and the whole thing and they'll start hitting them and it's very hard all over the world
We have an update:
-New Zealand warlock really trumpsters population is dropped to 40% and they are in an area it's about 1/3 of New Zealand and it is the top of New Zealand and the bottom but it's not the tip it's in that the strip near the middle there's two of them. Hey I'm sorry but these places don't shrink that fast they could because it's all them
-Australia population of warlock mostly cork is sound from 49% to probably around 30% and it is shrinking fast because of the devastation on the island on the island island probably at maybe 40% of the area that was habitable is now ruined the devastated so it's missing 60%. That's a lot of people to be missing and a lot of land they are running from one pulverized area to another and the bunkers are getting hit below
Is two areas these two areas are being devastated by the empire is a much larger Force it sort of felt better yesterday because of that
-these ships are launching up north they're leaving and it's Tommy f several of them have left and they are up and away several more will leave momentarily. It is time
Thor Freya
Olympus
We are holding our breath we're not sure if they're launching and other people are as well this is taking forever this time it's terrible it should not be this long
Hera
I have been a lot of problems for them and not many solutions and a lot of people have just gone up there to fight there's been huge wars tell me if lost a lot of troops and its ongoing there are tons of troops headed up there and they have not launched one ship yet in this round but they will shortly and they haven't opened up any holes it's a massive effort by others to get there and to stop them we expected should be launched this week sometime. We do know that he needs to get out but he hesitate to help him but the empire needs to be broken and we have to get it done so he wants us to remove blocks and I know which ones to proceed we really need to I'm getting going now we're up against the wall and we're not actually itnot sounding of it and not doing it I need an emergency meeting now
Thor Freya
Olympus we hear what he's saying he started to push it from down here and then having nothing happens we need to have things happen and we need to have them happen now these islands are very slower than molasses and we should be upset and we are it says Australia at 30% and it's more like 50% and they halted places are not in the other areas but they stopped their bombing run and they did so because they are held up by them physically in other areas New York City for example they said we will simply go around and start to pull yours out that's what happens it happens to these pseudo empire and that's happened to them and they are quite surprised they are actually forming up in the area and they're going to strike it's not long from now and it's because they were stopping them and they plan to do it and it will happen soon. The other item is this more on next door and it's New Zealand and other areas say managed to stop him really it's them the Max from the bombing and just it is a pseudo empire and they stopped them because they were threatening certain places and it happened before it's wide scale but it's a lot of people and it's really threatening just mostly them the same thing is happening with the pseudo empire it's happening with the empire they are going to eliminate threat and therefore be able to start parenting bombing again no it looks like John remillard is threatening to haunt the body and in fact is doing the opposite some people went after him they found out that this whole stupid crew here is thinking the wrong s*** and then trying to threaten for the area to be bombed they want to escape to the other side of the Sun and they're tired of their own stopping them that's what they say and they are going to be executed is what theirs are saying. And the empire wants them gone too it is a huge huge different day today today is a new day for us and soon the new start for our son and daughter and a lot of troops have had to listen to their crap it's harsh and it's going to be changing shortly last night and this morning about 20% of them were brought in and 20% of them are gone and it's a terrible terrible thing that they're doing they are all of them but not make it and they really don't need to if it's disgusting plan and we are pursuing them too groups of them are being killed and big groups. There's only a few more things to talk about these are really huge items. But they did lose several figureheads who are "zero earthers". And it is going to continue. They're starting their watchman TV series and they say that it's clockwork Orange and we agree and it's code-named that and it has to do with the Sun and we are going after them right now for it the whole world is but we're going after them here because there's a whole bunch of them here and they're nuts it's time for them to leave. The Mac bunkers and caverns are under heavy assault and they are losing personnel and the clone ships and Max ships are under heavy assault and they're losing massive numbers to morlock and foreigners at the numbers are way up there and they're also falling apart in general society the clones are hunted and the max are now targeted for the stuff that they're dulling out and they're dwindling they're not stealing and it is a huge war none of the caverns have been breached or bunker systems but they're sending out troops to stop them and so many that shortly they will be breached I'm hearing they're close on several smaller systems two in South Africa and one in South America is southern area and it's going to continue that way until breached. The effort to applying is humongous the more locker dumping everything that got into it and it might not be enough and they'll be out corners are now getting up and it's going to be a massive war and we are going to condition red. We need power and we need defenses and we need it now
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polyghostfacehours · 2 years
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Sooo, this was originally a B-Day fic for @thirsting4slashers that is months late lmaooo. But I finally finished it, sent them the personalized version, and she gave me permission to post it. I edited this and took out specific details so that it can be x Reader for you guys to enjoy <3.
To all my Randy lovers, enjoy!
---
They Could Never - Randy Meeks x F!Reader
TW: Smut. Possessiveness. Bullying. Brief Degradation. Billy and Stu ignoring boundaries and personal space. We kinda shit talk Billy and Stu in this lmao.
---
Randy felt like his teeth would shatter.
He was trying his best, he really was, to listen to the young girl asking him for some movie release dates, but his eyes couldn’t help but look past her curled hair to zero in on you.
He watched the smile pull at your lips at whatever undoubtedly stupid and likely offensive joke poured out of Stu’s mouth. He liked to imagine it was a strained smile, but he knows it isn’t; Knows that whatever quip came out of Stu’s bug-eyed ass was genuinely bringing out the laughter he himself was addicted to.
“- also, and sorry for going on and on, but if you could pull up when Lawn Dogs comes out too…?”
The voice felt like a blade being suddenly passed in front of his face, making Randy jump. He internally cursed, briefly forgetting he was currently at work, and didn’t need to be threatened to be fired by his manager again.
“Uuuuh, yeah, you got it. Hold on juuuust a second. Computer’s slower than a grandma made of molasses.”
He hears your laugh again, and he likes to imagine you somehow heard his lame little joke from across the store and found it funny. A small smile graces his features as information loads on the screen.
“May 15th. The Brits got it first though, so maybe you can find a pirat- I mean, yeah sorry, not for a while.” Randy sidetracks the sentence just as his manager walks in, but briefly scribbles something on some small paper before sliding it to the girl. It was the name of some website, one clearly meant for pirating, and Randy gives her a wink as she smiles back.
Another round of laughter, and Randy’s heart drops as he looks to where you are standing with Stu. Plus, a greasy addition.
Billy Loomis.
Randy didn’t hate Billy Loomis, at least not until recently. They had known each other for years, just like everyone in his little friend group had, besides you, the rather recent heart-throbbing addition. But Billy had been giving him bad vibes ever since his mom left. Okay well, actually ever since he started dating Sid about two years ago, but Randy wasn’t blind enough to realize that’s just his jealousy talking. What really set off his alarms was after Mrs. Loomis left.
Before that, Billy was ok. Dating his (former) dream girl, sure, but other than that he seemed to treat Sid well and, as much as it killed him, they had both seemed pretty happy. Until Billy’s mom left, and then Sid’s mom died, and now Randy has a chance that he didn’t even want anymore.
Because you came into the picture.
Billy and Sid will probably break up. Which makes Billy’s newfound friendliness with you all the more confounding and infuriating. Billy was distant to everyone outside his friend group and, because of what happened with his mom, he seemed closed off to even everyone in it nowadays too, except maybe Stu. But for the past couple of months, he and Stu had been getting closer and closer to you. He almost shit bricks the first time he had spied Billy smiling at you when you two were alone in the library. Not smirking, but an honest-to-god white-toothed, pretty boy smile that had Randy’s stomach churning as he watched from between the shelves.
For the second time that day, Randy gets startled out of his reverie. The clatter of VHS tapes and those new DVD discs that were starting to get popular, has his eyes snapping up at the three of you. Your eyes, bright and hypnotizing, had him almost smiling again, but when he sees Stu’s unnerving blues and Billy’s cold browns on either side of you, he immediately loses the urge.
“Hey Y/N! Stu…Billy.” Randy says as he begins scanning all the items, nearly scoffing at the selection.
‘Only horror movies again? Jesus, at least watch Star Wars too or something. Get another personality trait Loomis’
It was a hypocritical thought coming from him, he knows, but he can’t help being a little petty.
“Yup, that’ll be it! Oh, actually.” Your hand reaches below his view to the row of candy below, and you drop some Sno Caps and Sour Patch Kids onto the counter “These too, if you don’t mind.”
“Course I don’t. Always happy to-“ He feels his neck burn and nausea pitting in his stomach as Billy’s hand comes up and wraps around yours as you reach for you wallet. “…Serve.”
“I got it.” Is all Billy says to you as he fishes his wallet out of his back pocket with his free hand, all the while keeping his on yours, only letting go when he had to dig for some bills.
You look surprised, but thank Billy, earning a smirk from him. You miss the way he makes eye contact with Stu over your head, a clear indication that they’re plotting something, but Randy doesn’t miss it, and worry washes over him.
Billy and Stu teaming up to do something was always a bad idea. He learned this a long time ago, ever since the two had put some clear tape over his 5th grade English class door when he was running late, resulting in him barreling face first into it and almost falling over and cracking his head. The way Stu had howled and Billy had smirked confidently even with his stupid bowl cut back then, told Randy all he needed to know about the two.
It dawns on him that you were renting movies together with them. While they’re clearly plotting something. He squints at you before asking.
“You three gonna have a movie night?”
“Yeah.” You smile “Been planning for it for awhile.”
“Ever since she told me she never watched the Hellraiser movies.” Billy drawls lazily, eyes scanning the store casually before falling on a group of girls, giving them a once over that would be subtle to most people, but had Randy nearly rolling his eyes back into his skull. How Sid or you couldn’t tell that Billy couldn’t keep it in his pants was beyond him.
Billy’s eyes move back to Randy and he gives that smirk that he hates so much, before leaning casually on the counter “Thought we’d show her what a good time it is.”
Stu gives out a loud whoop, earning some dirty looks from customers, before slinging his lanky arm over your shoulder and letting his gross, dog-like tongue lol out of his mouth.
“Blood, guts, a thought-provoking humanist tale on the hubris of man. Maybe some tits. What could be better?”
Randy finishes ringing them up, a scoff leaving his lips.
“The first one is worth watching. The others, like all sequels, are trash. And it doesn’t have tits, nor is it a humanist tale, it’s post-modern at best. You want to find something humanist? Try-“
“Yeah, uh, don’t care nerd.” Stu says with a sharp grin and a little laughing hop. You elbow Stu’s side, getting an exaggerated ‘oof’ out of him, before turning back to Randy.
“I want to hear what this quote unquote “nerd” has to say.” You state, and Randy’s heart flutters. “Try what?”
“Well, you could- “
“It’s getting late, he can tell you later.”
Billy cuts in before anymore words are spoken, and both you and Randy frown before you look outside and realize it was getting dark. And you had 3 movies to get through.
“Damn. Sorry Randy. Gotta acquiesce there.” You exaggerate the ‘kwee’ part of acquiesce and it has a snort of endearment come out of both Randy and Billy at the same time. They both freeze and lock eyes, glaring at one another, almost challenging the other.
“Anyway, lets blow this place, my lady and sir.” Stu says as he makes his way to the door. Billy holds Randy’s glare in his for a moment, something unnerving flashing in his eyes that had Randy gulping, before turning to follow Stu, who was bowing cheesily as he held open the door for both you and Billy.
Randy didn’t like the way Billy grabbed your hand to pull you out. And if he had looked a little harder, he would’ve seen that you didn’t like it either.
---
Turns out, J.R.R Tolkien is an excellent tool to get a mind off of unrequited love. Randy laid in his bed; blue covers bunched at his feet as he read The Hobbit in an attempt to stop his thoughts from wandering to you.
He knew Billy and Stu wouldn’t try anything. They had girlfriends, and Randy was pretty sure they wouldn’t share with each other in that way. They weren’t that close. Right?
Still, the thought of you there, laughing at Stu’s jokes, pulling smiles out of Billy…letting them both get handsy with you. It made him angry. Angrier than he had ever felt when it came to Sidney.
What he felt for Sid and what he felt for you were two very different things. With Sid, it was a small crush, nostalgia-fueled and old in a comforting way. When he first realized her and Billy were having problems, he was ecstatic, not even thinking about how bad the situation probably made Sid feel. Maybe he liked the idea of dating or having sex with her, more than her herself. Because his feelings were so different when it came to you
With you it was intense. Less of a want and more of a need. You were, in simple terms, his type. Whenever you came over, the hours you spent talking and drinking cheap beer that made you both gag were hours he had burned and branded into his mind forever. Your laugh caught his attention without fail, and every time you let it out, his breath caught in his throat.
Back in high school, when graduation came around, he was crushed he couldn’t see anymore. Then you ended up in the same college as Randy and the others, and he couldn’t be happier. Seeing you every day, meeting up for coffees and lunches with the rest of the group. And seeing how you had grown in that time had Randy putting down his book and biting his lips.
You drove him wild. You were hot, and just the thought of you had Randy clenching his fists.
‘If she were here right now…if she’d let me I’d-‘
Images of you under him floods Randy’s thoughts, and he began to thumbs the edges of his T-shirt as he felt his cock stir.
His eyes scanned his room, and thoughts of fucking you on every surface had him groaning out loud. The desk, he could see himself bending you over the red wood, pushing everything off it and driving his cock into your soaked cunt. Pulling your arms back, he’d demand you to tell him who you belonged too, who you knew was the only one who could fuck you like this. And he’d hear you call his name in rapture, not Billy’s or Stu’s, over and over as he pounded in you.
‘O-or maybe…’
This bed. He could have you on your back, legs spread, and worshipping the soft folds of your pussy. He wanted more than anything to suck and lick your clit, finger you and put a vibrator to the sensitive bud and watch you come undone on his hand. He’d make sure to go for another round, or two, or three, until you were satisfied. He didn’t care how long or short it took, the thought of your juices dripping down his chin had his hands finally making his way towards his now throbbing cock.
Randy was a mess now, fingers gingerly wrapping around his length, and he swore he could almost hear your voice.
Wait. Fuck.
One pump in, and Randy’s eyes are shooting open. That was your voice, and after the brief panic and confusion wore off, his eyes fall to his curtain-covered windows. His ears strain and then he hears it again. A harsh whisper of ‘Randy’ coming from behind it.
“Shit.” Randy whispers to himself as he scrambles up, grabbing a sweater to tie around his waist to cover the pulsing erection in his sweatpants.
He moves the curtain away, and though he was sure he heard your voice, he was still surprised when he sees you standing there. You look exhausted, but otherwise fine, putting to rest any worries he has in the moment.
The click of the window opening has relief blossoming in your eyes, and you crawl through before turning to the confused man. Silence rings out, and Randy rubs the back of his head casually before giving a simple.
“Hey.”
“Hey.” You give a smirk, and Randy smiles back. The situation was awkward in a funny way, and after the night you had, you were more than thankful for it.
“Food? Drinks? Thai massage?” Randy quips before moving his bunched bed covers to be smoother so you can sit.
You give a stretch, and the little slice of skin that reveals itself as your shirt rides up reminds Randy of the current half-chub in his sweats. He gulps and takes a seat, making sure the arms of the sweater give nothing away.
“I’m good. Though that massage sounds great.”
You move to sit next to him, and its then when Randy speaks up.
“You okay? Bad movie night with Casafuckface and his lapdog?”
“Pffft! Hahaha! Yeah, guess you could say that. A little.” You reply with an easy smile, and Randy loses his.
“Wait I was joking. What do you mean? What’d they do?” Randy couldn’t help the anger rise in his voice at the thought of Billy and Stu pulling any shit on you. Even the idea of them pulling a small, but mean prank on you had his nails digging crescents into his palm.
“No! No they didn’t- I mean- they didn’t do anything. I just-“ You sigh. You have no idea where to even begin.
Randy could see the worry in your face, and the worst came to his mind.
“They didn’t-“
“No.” You turn to face him, dead seriousness in your eyes.
“They didn’t hurt me or force me to do anything. Really. It’s just…” You sigh, letting your arms give out and falling back on to the bed. You could smell Randy’s scent and it comforted you as you begin speaking your piece.
“They just made me a little uncomfortable. Stu touching me so much, and Billy flirting. It felt like fun and games before, but they have girlfriends, and they keep, I dunno...upping the ante?” You furrow your brows as you recall the way Stu had insisted on having your legs over his lap during the movie.
“It feels wrong now. And we were all just talking like normal, when Stu suggests putting in Cannibal Holocaust, which we were all like, yeah, sure, ok. But then the scene where the guy goes into the lake and has all those people pleasure him comes up, that it gets weird. We finish the movie and Stu keeps talking about how hot being in that situation would be? Mentions some kitschy horror flick he watched one time where 2 guys tag team a girl. Like just keeps talking about orgies and threesomes…especially threesomes.” Your eyes shift to Randy, and you almost laugh at the way his jaw slackened in shock.
“Yeeeeeah. And normally, when Stu acts weird Billy hits him and tells him to knock it off, but this time he didn’t. He just kinda…stared at me. Almost like he was trying gauge my reaction to Stu not-so-subtly talking about threesomes when there are conveniently three of us alone in a room. I pretended not to catch on, so nothing happened, and the rest of the night was fine but…I just felt uncomfortable. Needed to talk to someone about it. And I sure as hell can’t go to Sid and Tate about it.” You sigh. “Like, if they were single it wouldn’t be as big of a deal, but they have Sid and Tate, and I know Billy is having problems with Sid, but it’s still not right.” You shrug your shoulders.
Silence blankets the room again, and when you turn to Randy, you can practically see the blood vessels popping. A part of you, the part that’s head over heels for Randy, stirs, but you ignore it. You know Randy is in love with Sid. Still, seeing him so concerned for you set your heart a flutter. You could almost thank Billy and Stu for being horny creeps.
“Would you if they weren’t?”
“Huh?” You blink, and Randy’s eyes shift to yours.
“If they weren’t dating Sid and Tatum. Would you have taken up their offer for a threesome?”
Randy shifted a little closer, and you think you can see hope in his eyes, though you aren’t sure why.
“Uh, no. Billy and Stu are really fun as friends. But I’m not into them that way.” You bite your lip and lean towards Randy conspiratorially “Plus, something about them seems…off? Like, don’t tell them I said this, but I’m half sure one of them is gonna turn out to be, like, some sort of psycho. My money’s on Billy.” You wink playfully, only a little serious, choosing to rag on Billy a bit since you know Randy doesn’t like him much. Randy nods, his eyebrows stiffening as he leans in as well.
“I’m putting money on Stu. Billy’s a greasy ass momma’s boy with some, in my opinion, homo-repression issues, but Stu’s the goofball. And you never, under any circumstances, trust the goofball.”
This gets a laugh out of you, and Randy can’t help but chuckle.
“Oh my god you’re so right! No one would ever suspect Stu. It’d be perfect!” You wheeze out between laughs, Randy’s joining yours until you’re both laughing at the ridiculous thought that your two friends could become crazed killers one day.
Amongst the slowly dying down laughter, you lock eyes, and the smiles blooming on both your faces is unmistakable. You realize slowly that both of you were just staring at each other, and Randy clears his throat before speaking up again.
“Well, I’m glad you’re okay. But it’s good. That you don’t go gaga over them, especially Billy, like most girls do. He’s a walking, talking red flag.”
“Yeah, I saw how he stared at those girls in the video store. It’s part of the reason I wouldn’t really be cool dating him. I don’t trust him to not cheat on me. Not to shit-talk him or anything, he’s a cool guy to have as a friend, I just wouldn’t go there with him y’know? Kinda feel bad for Sid in that sense.”
Randy nods. “Yeah, same here. Out of curiosity though…is there anyone you would go there with?”
Pink overtakes your face almost immediately, and Randy’s stomach sinks. Of course there’d be someone who you’d like.
‘But if it isn’t Billy and/or Stu, then who?’
“Yeah. Yeah I do. And you? Er, well, dumb question. I know you like Sid.” Randy could’ve sworn he heard disappointment in your voice, and it makes him jump on the defensive before he can even think.
“Correction, I used to like Sid. I got over it in high school, senior year.”
“Oh yeah, isn’t that around the time I came to Woodsboro?” You smirk, and your voice is light and teasing, clearly not being serious. But you know deep inside you’re hoping that is the reason, and that Randy is in fact secretly in love with you.
“What?! No! I- uh I, just, y’know, got over it! Nothing to do with you!” Randy sputters, and for second time that night, he gets a vibe of disappointment from you. You frown, eyes turning down briefly, before correcting yourself.
“Y-yeah. ‘Course it isn’t me, just pulling your chain, man.”
And it fucking kills him. That he can’t just grab you by the shoulders and shake you and scream in your face how bad he has it for you. That he just doesn’t have the balls. He remembers one time, back when Billy first started dating Sidney, where Stu had teased him about it.
“You lost, not just cause our Billy-boy’s a hunk, but because you don’t have the balls to step up your game!” Stu had laughed out cruelly. “You’ll never get the girl, man. Billy does, because he goes after what he wants. I do, because I know I can get what I want. But you? C’mon nerd, get over it. Sidney and you wasn’t gonna happen anyway, Billy or no Billy.”
It was a memory Randy abhorred. There was no doubt that there was tension in the friend group, and that Stu and Billy in general were those kinds of subtly toxic friends he should’ve cut loose a while ago, but kept due to nostalgia and the few good times between the cruelty. But that conversation in particular? That shit stung. And it’s those words cutting into his brain that cause the next words to tumble out of Randy’s mouth.
“Just kidding. Yeah, it was you.”
His shoulders stiffen and you mirror him. Fuck. Fuck. He shouldn’t have just said it like that. He had no idea if you actually liked him, or if it was just the residuals of the nice-guy syndrome he had gotten rid of in high school convincing him you do. But either way he was fucked, so fucked, absolutely and totally-
‘Not fucked?’
He thinks as you move forward to crash your lips onto his.
It’s everything he had been hoping for, and then some. Randy wastes no time in cupping your face, and you wrap your arms around his waist to press your chests together. The feeling of you opening your mouth for his tongue has him groaning, and he can taste the mixture of buttery popcorn and chocolatey Sno Caps from your movie night.
That movie night. Where Billy and Stu overconfidently thought they could snag a gem like you, and you turned them down. The thought that you did that to them, whilst opening yourself up to him?
It had Randy moving to push you back until your back made contact with the bed. Your lips moved together, tongues flicking and rubbing against each other, and groaning into one another’s mouth until you needed air and parted. You both pant, looking into each other’s eyes, and you give him a sexy smirk that made Randy think his dick would explode.
“I’ve wanted you for forever. Billy and Stu can go bite it.”
Those words had something snapping Randy. And before you could say more, he laces his fingers through your hair, pulling your head back and latching his lips to your neck.
“Yeah they can.” He says between kisses, bites, and sucks. “Those losers really thought they could take you from me?” You moan as he gives a harsh suck. “Fuuuuck that. You’re mine Y/N. You got it?”
You nod. This is a side of Randy you never thought he’d have. But you find yourself loving the possessiveness. You lace your fingers in his hair as he goes to remove your shirt and bra. The minute they leave your form, he pauses. Staring at your chest in near reverence, as a small ‘fuck’ leaves his lips. Strong hands move up to grasp at your chest, feeling and watching your reactions as he pinches your nipples. Randy breaths a little harder before speaking.
“These are.” He lowers his mouth to one tit, circling his tongue along your nipple before his hot breath cascades over them. “Mine.”
The way Randy’s hot mouth covers your nipple has your back arching in ecstasy. You can feel yourself dripping down to your ass, and you press your thighs together to get some relief. He moves his mouth back and forth between your left and right, sucking and licking, and then biting, until you were practically quivering as you moaned. It felt like heaven, but you knew where you really wanted Randy.
“R-Randy.” He pops off your breasts before looking up at you. “P- please. I need you, down…there.”
Randy lets out a little huff, before returning to your breasts.
“Be patient. I wanna take my time making you feel good. Buuut if you really need something there…”
His hands remove your bottoms, and deft fingers make their way to your cunt, drawing a curse out from Randy.
He pulled back to look, and like your chest, he took a moment to appreciate the sight before speaking up.
“God. Billy and Stu could only dream of this.” You moan at that, and Randy moves his fingers through your folds gently, collecting wetness.
“Fuck. You really wanted me this bad? You should’ve told me sooner.” He growled out, before pinching and rubbing your clit in slow torturous circles before returning to your chest. You cried out, steadily building the pleasure as you close your eyes and soak in both the feeling and Randy’s dirty talk.
You loved this. You wanted more of this side of Randy. You loved the nerdy, passionate side of him. You liked his shyness. But to see he was so ready to take and give in the bedroom? How he called you his, whilst disparaging your pushy friends? It drove you wild.
You came once, twice on his fingers and then his tongue. Randy wouldn’t let up, refused to fuck you until you were a mess. It was an hour and a half in, and he still hadn’t gotten his cock near you. You needed to change that. So you put your hands on his shoulders and pushed, causing him to look up. His eyes were half-lidded, drunk on your cunt and ownership of you, and you give him the sweetest smile before speaking
“Randy, I need you to fuck me.”
Not a second later were you face down, ass up. You moan when Randy spits on your cunt, rubbing his achingly hard cock on your before teasing just his tip in. You look back at him, and groan in annoyance. But all Randy does is smile.
“You.” He slaps your ass, garnering a squeak “Are mine. Not that wet-rag Stu’s and definitely not that rat-face Billy.” He growls out. “If I ever see them trying shit with you again. I’ll pulverize them.” You give a playful smile at the tough guy act, and Randy catches it before shrugging and gripping your hips. “Or at the very least."
"I’ll put a shit ton of late fees on their accounts.”
You throw your head back as he shoves himself in, his cock immediately rubbing against that spongy ridge inside of you that had you seeing stars. Randy’s pace is quick immediately, uncharacteristic of his usual attempts to be cool, and he grips and kneads your flesh as he pulls you back to him as he thrusts forwards.
The weight of a hand grips the back of your neck and pushes down, your face rubbing against the bed and allowing you to smell him on his sheets.
“God. God! Y/N you’re so- ngh- ah, so gorgeous. You wouldn’t believe how fucking good you look. How tight you are.” Randy pants out, his eyes trained on you and nothing but you.
“Say it. Say your mine. Say Billy and Stu can go fuck themselves. Tell me you’re never letting anyone but me touch you.”
“Yes! Fuuuck Randy I’m yours! I’m all yours! Billy and Stu are trash, and they could never compete with your cock!”
“Of course they can’t Not when you’re – ah – my personal, little, fuck toy.”
The steady build comes to a head the moment you start rubbing your clit at his words, pushing you over the edge just as Randy hits that spot inside you that had pleasure thrumming through you, and you scream his name in rapture. The way you push and pull around him, milking him for all he’s worth has him doing the same, cumming with a groan of your name, before collapsing onto you.
Your back and his chest were pressed together, sweat slicking you both, and you couldn’t care less. This is what you had wanted. Had craved. Billy and Stu were cute, sure, and it was flattering that they wanted you to be a part of…whatever it was they clearly had going on behind their girlfriends’ backs, but still. Randy was the whole package. Cute, nerdy, not a cheater, never gives off any bad vibes. Bad boys had their appeal as a teen, but as an adult what you really wanted was someone you could relax around and be yourself with.
‘Billy and Stu really did peak in high school.’ You thought in amusement, almost feeling bad for them. The weight of Randy rolling off of you brought you out of your thoughts, and you turn you head to look at his tired face. He looks back and smiles.
“Soooo. Does this mean you’re my girlfriend now?”
You laugh, taking the throw pillow and playfully hitting him with it.
“Yes, you fucking nerd.”
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spnfanficpond · 3 years
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To our anon:
(Sorry this took so long, but you know us, always be SLOW!)
Thanks for continuing to reach out and let us know how you feel. We really do rely on you guys telling us what is and isn't working because we're just two people and sometimes we can't see it.
The main goal of the Pond is, and always has been, to have a place where everyone is welcome and safe to enjoy and explore. That being said, we honestly don't know what to do about some of the things you're bringing forward.
First, let’s talk about safety in the Pond. Safety is not the same as comfort or agreeing on everything. We are a community of many different backgrounds and personalities and there's bound to be a certain amount of clashing. We expect that. But we also hope that people can do what they have to do to keep any clashing from turning into a hostile environment. If that means you need our help to do it, we're happy to talk to any member or act as mediators. If there are members who believe/support/interact with the pond in ways that aren't the same as yours, we encourage you to avoid them. There are hundreds of members and it doesn't get us anywhere if we focus on our differences.
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If your safety is being threatened, PLEASE IM one of us off anon so we can talk further and figure out how to make things right.
Next, our Manta Rays. We ask our Manta Rays to do a lot. Not everyone can do all of it all of the time. (We think they’re pretty great at managing to do most of the things most of the time.) Sometimes, our Manta Rays have trouble keeping up with everything, but as long as they continue to try and be examples of good citizens in our community, we give them the slack they need. Each Manta Ray has different strengths and weaknesses, different likes and dislikes. Some can’t read more than 3k words. Some love to read 100k words. Some love fluff, some love angst, and some love consensual non-consent incest smut.
You’ve pointed out that a Manta Ray having preferences means that writers who write fics outside those preferences miss out on the opportunity to get Angel Fish Awards from that Manta Ray. This is true. It’s a fact of life. This is why Angel Fish Awards can be given by EVERYONE, INCLUDING NON-MEMBERS. Yes, that one Manta Ray who is expected to nominate fics on a regular basis won’t read your story, but literally anyone else on the planet could read it and nominate it.
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Never Be Sorry, Not For This
It was just supposed to be two friends dancing. You should’ve known better: Eugene Roe + Dirty Jazz in a dark club on a hot Georgia night would be the death of you.
(i listened to Death Letter by Cassandra Wilson while writing this, in case you wanna feel the spice)
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You giggle slightly when Gene’s hand presses hot on the middle of your back, the giggle graduating to an apologetic snicker when he shot you an impatient look.
“Really? Are you twelve?” Roe grumbles, holding your right hand up gently and keeping it close to their sides.
“And a half.” You wink, smirking as he rolls his eyes and shakes his head at you.
He looked stupidly handsome in the low light of the club, a light sheen of sweat on his skin catching the light and making him shine like some sort of angel.
Careful, a voice in your head whispers. Don’t read more into this than there is.
He had only brought you here because Bill fucking Guarnere was incapable on minding his own business and keeping his goddamn mouth shut for longer than two minutes and practically strong-armed Gene into inviting you. 
During a night of Sobel-assigned kitchens inventory with Gene and Guarnere, Bill had asked you about your recent birthday- what you’d done, who you’d heard from, if you’d gotten anything. 
“Paperwork, my dad and my sister and her family, and Sobel gave me an earful about controlling my facial expressions when he’s trying to establish his authority- Thanks for asking.”
Your answer was apparently incorrect, and Guarnere had turned to Gene and pointed at you with his thumb conspiratorial.
“That’s gotta be the saddest shit I’ve ever heard, eh Doc? Can’t let such an important day go to waste like that, can we, pal?”
Guarnere proceeded to bully Gene into inviting you to the jazz club the medic always flocked to on his weekend passes, the place he chose to escape to  in lieu of the bar favored by most residents of Toccoa. 
But before you’d had a chance to tell Bill to shut up and stop being weird, Gene had nodded and looked down at the inventory sheet in his hand.
“I mean, we could if you wanted to.”
You had a feeling that he was regretting extending the invitation now. 
When the two of you had entered the club you’d suddenly realized that this wasn’t the traditional, big band jazz you’d been expecting.
Oh no, you were pretty sure Gene had accidentally taken you to a sex club of some kind- and you became even more sure the moment your eyes had adjusted to the darkness and you’d been able to make out your surroundings.
The singer on the stage was lit with a red light, voice smokey and seductive as she crooned a slow melody, eyes hazy as her hands trailed up and down the microphone’s stand in a clearly suggestive manner. There were two men with instruments behind her, the one with the drum looking at her silk-clad body like he meant to ravage it.
Maybe jazz means something different in the south?
Couples were writhing to the drums rhythm, bodies draped over each other like some kind of Rodinian menagerie. 
Now, you were pretty confident in your capabilities as both a soldier and a human woman- you wouldn’t have gotten this far if you hadn’t been able to trust yourself and what you could handle.
And you knew for a fact that you were incapable of pulling this off.
Now, Gene was a patient man, but you could see in the set of his jaw he was starting to get frustrated.
 I don’t blame him, I’m acting like I’ve never been alone with a boy before. 
Clearing your throat, you bite the inside of your cheek to try and get your shit together.
He’s trying to do something nice for you and you’re ruining it….
”I’ll stop, I promise.” you plead, ducking your head to try and catch his gaze. “I’m just nervous, give me a break…”
“You’ve literally run out in front of a moving plane to get a piece of debris off a runway ” he interrupts you like you hadn’t been talking. “You stole Sobel’s car—”
“At least if those things went wrong I would’ve just been killed.”
Eugene snorts at that, and you hear him mutter something to himself in French.
“And now?” He asks, tilting his head towards the band on the stage and the other dancers around you . “You think this is worse?”
You fix him with a look of shock that you know will make him laugh again. “Death over humiliation, every time! Obviously. What sort of question is that? C’mon Genie—”
“I know you know how to dance. I’ve seen you and Nixon dance at Malarkey’s birthday dinner in last July—”
You cringed internally. You’d forgotten there had been witnesses to that.
“Ok, first off,” you tap one of your fingers against his shoulder for emphasis. “that only happened because I lost  a bet with Lewis. And to be clear-I know how to ballroom dance, and that’s different because the whole point is to be rigid and straight and precise. This is….proving to be a challenge.”
You’d always been good at those sorts of things- order and rigidity and accuracy. You were used to knowing what was expected of you and how you measured up to those expectations. But you were going into this completely unprepared. You hated it.
“Just think of this as a basic waltz step, just slower.” Gene supplied, and when you started to fall into the familiar step he immediately made it clear that he was going to be dictating the pace, meeting your quirked brow with one of his own.
“Much slower. Glacial. Frozen molasses sliding down a flat hill—” You chide lightly, trying to disguise the waiver of apprehension in your voice.
“I don’t think that’s a phrase. But yes- that slow.”
You sigh, letting him lead you in an almost unbearably slow box step, letting him take you through five box-steps before huffing and hooking your chin over his shoulder and rest your head there, groaning melodramatically like you were in pain.
“This is impractically slow.” you lament. “It doesn’t look or feel right—”
With a quick move of his arm he presses you closer into his chest, knocking you slightly off balance before moving you so his thigh is wedged between your legs. 
You flush at what you assumed was a mistake on his part, and when you go to step back down from his thigh he moves with you and holds you in place.
Eugene Roe, you saucy boy.
“Gotta let me have some of your weight. That’s why it feels like you’re doing it wrong….” 
His voice is soft as stone, and you know he can feel your breath catch in your throat. “C’mon, mon cher- I got you.”
You’re suddenly very glad that he's pulled you so close because you don’t have to hide the scarlet blush on your cheeks at the imploring tone in his voice.
It made you want to trust him. It made you want him, period. 
Full stop.
It’s dancing. People dance. Friends dance, it doesn’t mean anything unless you want it to.
Unless you let it.
You take a deep breath and let your knees bend slightly, allowing your hips to slot together and your heart thud against his. 
Just as he promised, he keeps a hold on you, the arm around your waist like a belt holding the two of you together, and your ribs jump in a quick inhale as his fingers curl around your waist.
If he notices your reaction, he’s kind enough not to mention it.
“Good,” he says under his breath, and you feel him nodding against your hair. “That’s good.”
Good God, had his voice always been so low?  Fuck he was good at this….
You hmm in reply, your self-consciousness put on the back burner in order to cope with the absolute burning electric currents seeming to run through your body, just beneath your skin. 
You’ve never been so overwhelmed by another person, let alone some boy as you felt at this moment in Eugene Roe’s arms- you couldn’t so much as breathe without him knowing, each inhale bringing with it the sweet, clean smell of the aftershave you couldn’t quite identify and the salt of his skin.
The steps of the waltz have melted into a rhythmic sway of your bodies, shifting weight from the ball of one foot to the other in time with Gene’s lead.
It’s everything you can do not to shake as his thigh flexes between your legs, your sex rubbing agianst it deliciously every so often and making you feel stupid with longing.
“You okay?” he asks quietly, and you realize that you’ve been holding your breath the whole time, a distracted chuckle escaping your lips before your nod softly.
“Yeah, course.” You wrap an arm around his shoulder and sway with him, giving the hand holding yours a quick squeeze of reassurance. “You?”
You feel him nod. “Yeah, me too.”
You hum, letting your eyes drift closed as you try to think about keeping your breathing even and touch light.
Which was proving harder than you’d anticipated— the slow curling beat of the new song beginning and it’s rumbling melody settling over your heads like the foreboding clouds of a storm that neither of you seemed too interested in seeking shelter from.
This whole place could burn down and all I’d see is him
After a few more moments you feel the hand at your back begin to knead at the knots along your spine, strong fingers rolling like revered thunder against your tense muscles.
“Give me some more,” he quietly demands. “You need to lean on me more….you’re still too tense—” and you bend your knees a bit so you can feel the pressure of his thigh where you’re throbbing for him the most. 
“Shhhhhhiiiiiit…” he hisses quietly, almost to himself. 
“Eugene,” you breathe before you can stop yourself, titling your head so your temples press together. “ We, uh…..We said we wanted to go by eleven...”
Your reminder is purely for show, arousal hot in your chest and stomach. 
When he hums in acknowledgement, you can hear the lack of intention behind it. The idea of separating from this man made you feel cold—a prospect you found unbearable despite the heat making your hair stick to the back of your neck.
Staying, we’re going to stay.
Part of this feels inevitable, like the two of you had always been destined to end in this sinfully filthy embrace with nearly every single part of your bodies touching, and you couldn’t find it in yourself to curse the humidity you so loathed.
A whimper escapes your throat when you catch your clothed clit on some bunched fabric from the leg of his pants, and his arms abandon their dancing position to wrap around your torso and smooth his hands up and down your back
“Like this, Doc?” you can’t help but whisper, sighing prettily when his grip digs into the meat of your shoulder blades. 
You know you aren’t dancing anymore, haven’t been dancing for a while. You feel your hips jump against his, a low groan rumbling in his chest as one of his hands flashes down to squeeze at your ass.
“Fuck darlin’....” 
You turn your head so your lips are at his ear, eyes nearly rolling back in your head at the sinful roll of his hips as he drops a bit lower, a growl in his chest at the breathy way you gasp his name.
“I’m sorry” he’s whispering. “I’m sorry—”
You know what he’s apologizing for.
He thinks he’s confirming Sobel’s horrible accusations— that you’re nothing more than a warm body in the eyes of the men of Easy Company.
Their CO had a special place in his heart for taking the time to remind you that you were a woman and insinuate that you were nothing more than a barrack whore who was a pretty good shot on a rifle. 
“Even pious Winters seems to find you distracting, Miss Y/N. Maybe we should send you ahead of the pack to give the Krauts something to enjoy before we show up.”
“Don’t be sorry,” you shake your head and bring one hand up to lightly touch his cheek, voice thick in your throat. “Never be sorry. Not for this— Shit, Gene....”
One of Gene’s hands slid up your neck and into your hair, holding your head as he turned to look at you, pupils blown wide beneath heavily lidded eyes.
You look at his lips, bringing your thumb over to smooth the furrow in his brow.
“Never?” he asks, and with one final look into his eyes you shake your head.
“Never.” you hear yourself say, 
You kiss the corner of his mouth first, not wanting to rush him, still worried that (somehow) you were misreading his intentions. 
As if he wasn't gyrating his hips with you in a way so dirty that you were surprised you hadn’t been asked to leave. As if you couldn’t feel the ghost of his hard cock against your hip….
Apparently Gene thought you were now the one moving too slowly, because he uses his hand in your hair to turn your mouth to his and kiss the breath from your lungs.
His lips taste like whiskey and a tiny bit like the candied pecans you’d brought him as a thank you for taking you out. 
You sighed against his mouth as you slid one of your hands down his chest, fisting his shirt as his tongue parts the seam of your lips and deepens the kiss.
“Embrasse-moi (kiss me),” he mumbles between the kisses he plucked from your lips. “Je pense toujours à toi, Je ne peux pas vivre sans toi….tu as besoin de savoir que (I always think about you, I can’t live without you. You need to know that.).”
You’re french is lackluster at best, but something in the way he’s saying the words that makes you feel as if he’s being unbearably sincere in whatever it is he’s telling you. 
“I dont…” you begin, but then something wicked and heavy settles in your lower belly that has you pulling back enough that you can look him in the eye.
HIs lips are pink and swollen, and you nearly forget what you wanted to tell him.
Debauched, absolutely lewd and lustful.
Your hands find his and with a reassuring nodyou put his hands on your hip and thigh, another curse slipping past his lips as his fingers bunched the soft fabric of your skirt in his hands.
“Show me what you said.” You know you’ve said it like a command but you’ve never felt more less in control in your entire life. “Please, Eugene—”
He nods solemnly, and when he replies you get the feeling he’s making you a deeper promise than you are aware of.
“I will. I promise.”
and he does.
(*throws fic at you and runs away* than you for reading bYE (p2?))
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cajunquandary · 4 years
Text
Day 07 | Domestic
A/N: I’m behind on a few projects, so my Suptober20 entry today is an excerpt from a large WIP I’ve had brewing for a while now. It’ll probably be released as a series. Here is some reader-insert fluffy domestic crap out of context.
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The bunker was nice. Clean. Open. Safe. It became more than just home base; it became home. You found yourself as one of the Winchesters, a hunter, proud member of Team Free Will. The last months had been enlightening and soul lifting. Tracking and fighting monsters came naturally to you. You’d even met some lovely people along the way—grateful people. While it all helped fill the void that had driven you into that ditch, you still couldn’t bring yourself to face what’d created it in the first place. How could you tell the boys when you couldn’t even admit it to yourself? It didn’t help that they were so understanding about needing space and time either. You still felt the raw need for punishment, but refrained, knowing now that the lives of countless others depended on your health.
The water was hot on your skin, raining on your scalp and streaming down to the shower floor. You must’ve been in there for a while now, having lost track of time. Your eyes opened at the knock.
“Hey it’s uh, Sam. You okay?’
You turned off the water and peeked around the curtain. Sam had his hands covering his eyes like a little kid at a scary movie. You couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, sorry Sam. I’ll be right out. We got another case?”
“Okay, good,” He smiled in relief. “No, but I might be on to something.” He turned and carefully walked out of the showers, hands still covering his eyes.
You ringed out your hair and stepped onto the cold tile floor, wrapping the old towel around you like a short white dress.
The walk to your room was a short one thankfully, since by the time you reached your door, the cool damp air of the bunker in early winter gave you a chill. You hurriedly changed into your warm leggings and thick oversized sweater and long fuzzy socks before double checking your go-bag. You grabbed your pistol and cocked it back so that the chamber remained exposed, empty and prepped for a deep cleaning.
“Hey, trigger.” Dean smiled as you sauntered into the war room, where he was already cleaning the weapons laying haphazardly all over the lit table.
You returned a shy smile and added yours to his collection. “Where’s Sam and Cas?” You asked, pulling your still-dripping hair into a bun.
He seemed to be struggling with a bit deep on the inside of the sig’s barrel. “Uh, library, I think. Something about a possible case.”
“Ah.” You turned to walk in that direction, but Dean pointedly cleared his throat. “No, I’m not leaving you to clean them all by yourself,” you laughed, sending a lazy wave at his unenthused “Uh huh, sure.”
Sam was indeed in the library, brows furrowed and deep in thought, nose nearly touching his computer screen. Not wanting to interrupt, you headed to the kitchen, where Castiel was toiling away. The ruffled angel looked silly in his beige coat and oversized chef’s apron and mitts. It was not as chilly in here with the oven open and sweet scent of pie filling the air like a warm hug. You sat on the barstool at the island, watching Cas carefully pull the pastry from the oven, moving slower than molasses on a snowy day.
“Cas, honey, that pie is gonna go cold before it hits the counter,” you giggled. He smiled a wide, toothy grin as he finally put it down and took off the gloves.
“There. Just like you taught me! I didn’t even burn it this time,” He stood tall and proud.
“Yes, sirree! It’s beautiful, great job!”
As he slipped off the apron and set it back in its place on the wall, he muttered to himself, “I hope Dean likes it.”
On cue, the Winchester popped his head in, no doubt the sweet scent guiding him to the kitchen. “Speak of the devil!” You shook your head at him, smiling at how hurriedly he approached the island.
Sam rounded the corner quickly and out of breath, one hand pivoting on the door frame and other gripping a phone. The Emergency-All-Hands-on-Deck Phone.  He swallowed harshly and directed, “Massive nest in Oklahoma. We’re on. Out in ten.”
He pivoted back out and Dean looked over at the pie longingly, lips quivering ever so slightly. Castiel nodded with understanding. “It’ll be safe in the warmer, Dean. Let’s go.”
You and Castiel climbed in the backseat of the Impala with Sam close behind. Dean finally trailed into the garage with his duffel bag and a large disposable cup. He stowed the bag in the trunk and plopped into the driver’s seat, settling into the perfect position and bringing the old beast alive. Sam turned to give him TheFace. “Really? Really.”
Dean withdrew the fork from the cup and moaned innocently through a mouthful of homemade pie. “What?”
Sam sighed and turned forward, preparing to navigate. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Castiel grin broadly, proud of his accomplishment. You grabbed the angel’s hand and smiled, leaning against his shoulder ready for the long ride ahead.
Sam’s voice lifted you from your snooze gently. “So, get this... There’s been over 40 reports of missing people just this year. The town is so small. Everyone is terrified that it’s a serial killer, but by the looks of the few bodies that have been found, we are dealing with a vamp nest.”
You listened to him continue on about the details with your eyes closed, allowing the comfort of being the safest place in the world wash over you.
TAG LIST:
@carryonmywaywardcaptain​ @manawhaat​ @supernatural-jackles​ @jensen-jarpad @wheresthekillswitch​ @bummblebeeblue​ @nothin-after-79-blog​ @docharleythegeekqueen @fangirl-writing-fiction @inmysparetime0​ @impala-dreamer​ @arryn-nyxx​ @idk-life01 @attorneyl​ @deathtonormalcy56​ @xwing-baby​ @wonder-cole​
 ALL ABOUT THAT DEAN:
@akshi8278​ @will-winchester​
Special thanks to @winchester-reload​ for hosting Suptober20!
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weltonreject · 4 years
Text
twenty, two ways
|| the long promised dialogue-heavy cigarette sharing fic; Theo’s emotionally congested (again) and Boris gets him to talk. Slice of life-- and Heaven. || ao3
Theo was laid out on the steps of Hobart & Blackwell. It was dramatic, he knew, but he was in his best jacket and scarf, and had just shined his shoes; no one would think he was in trouble or dead. He was just a weird twenty-something with a lit cigarette in his hand-- and an antique, purple glass astray brought from inside the shop. Theo was on his way through his second pack in less than forty-eight hours. He needed to slow down, but he just couldn’t find it in himself to want to.
He’d been in such a deep, molasses- type feeling for going on two weeks, it felt wrong to stop the one thing he was doing quickly. Theo was actually good at smoking quickly-- at making himself so sick he thought he’d pass out or throw up or do some combination therein. Why stop?
Well, one reason appeared at the end of the block, talking loudly into his cellphone in a slippery combination of English and Russian that Theo was too tired to grab tightly around. Boris hated how Theo’s cigarette’s smelled. He preferred any brand but Theo’s. Hell, he’d asked Theo if he’d start smoking cigars instead.
Theo didn’t, but for a different reason than just refusing to stop his escalating nicotine addiction.
“Okay, okay-- I call you back. Have gotten to meeting now. Have to go. Okay okay... I-- Am hanging up now.” Boris ended his call with a short sigh and tap of his heels on the sidewalk at Theo’s feet.
“Meeting? Is that me?” Theo asked, not sitting up. He tucked his chin down to look at Boris down to his feet. He was dressed well-- impressive but understated, per usual.
“Have to sound like am somewhere they cannot call back.” Boris shrugged. “Very pushing.”
“Pushy.” Theo said, putting his near-filter cigarette between his lips. “And in your line of work? I find that hard to believe.” Theo pulled quickly and harshly, flaring the red embers and finishing off the last of his eighth cigarette.
“Potter.”
Theo stubbed out the end and fished for another one in the box beside the tray. “What.”
“What are you doing outside? Like this?”
"Hobie won’t let me smoke inside, you know that.”
“Potter, you are... French Girl on steps.”
Theo furrowed his eyebrows, looking at Boris with a short grunt of confusion. It took for Boris to pretend to drape himself sideways, a hand pretending to touch a Heart of the Ocean necklace for Theo to cough up a laugh.
“I technically half own this shop; I can be... moderately weird looking on my own front steps.” Theo spoke around the cigarette, his lips pursed and hands cupping around the end and his lighter.
“Potter, what is problem?”
What was his problem? Rather, when wasn’t there a problem? Why did Theo have to be so disagreeable? Absolutely nothing made him relieved anymore. Every day was... well, it was nice: waking up and getting an improved Las Vegas experience with Boris. But it was looked at from behind a glass, from behind a refusal really be present. Theo was waiting for something to give-- for someone else to disappear-- he just couldn’t settle. Theo was waiting... but he didn’t even know where to look to brace for impact.
It was far easier to just sit and smoke, completing one three-inch task at a time.
“I don’t have a problem.”
“You are terrible at lying. You know this, yes? Are aware cannot lie-- and cannot lie to me most?” Boris laughed. He moved the ashtray and sat on the step with Theo. “You fight with Hoobie?” He mispronounced.
“No, it’s not about him.” Theo pinched his cigarette between his knuckles. In his denial, he’d implied the only other man present.
“Is about me.” Boris said. He grabbed the cigarette from Theo’s fingers, quickly putting it between his lips-- almost with a smirk. “I have done what now?”
“No, no don’t say it like that.” Theo groaned, pushing himself up onto his elbows. “I’m not trying to start an argument with you.”
“Can talk about being annoyed without starting an argument.” Boris said with a laugh. “Is this why you and wife never worked out?”
“Ha ha. Hilarious.” Theo slouched back, his spine ribbing against the rough edge of the cement steps. As if his quick-drawn, slowly-shot temper was the reason he and Kitsey had severed the engagement. As if Boris didn’t know rightly well-- making smoke rings and looking pleased with himself-- what and who the real reason included. “Asshole.” Theo took the cigarette back from Boris after a long few minutes of hypnosis-- watching him pull his cheeks in and then shape the smoke in front of him. He’d smoke it down to the filter already.
Boris fiddled in his pockets for his lighter as he pulled another one from Theo’s pack. “So what is issue? It is me, Potter, I am not present for very little of your day-- and in that time, you have gotten upset. Tell me-- ack fucking zapalniczka-- Tell me what has happened to you.” His lighter finally caught and his eyes darted back to Theo’s face. The protected flame flickered and twinkled across his face.
“To me? Why am I the object of this? Why are things being done to me? What am I just some--” Boris blinked at Theo. He blew all the smoke from his first pull directly into Theo’s face. “Okay. So picking a fight about your English maybe isn’t the right angle here.”
"Genialność.”
“Sorry.” Theo toss his cigarette butt down and stomped on it. He ground the filter across the rough sidewalk. He expected it to smear, but the white fluff tore and webbed on the emerging bits of gravel.
“So you need to talk, yes? Willing to pick bone with my sentence-- empty fight.” Boris held out the cigarette. “Something is bothering you. Can see it in your shoulders. You do not sit right when you are upset-- angry? Is it anger, Potter?”
Was it? Was Theo angry at Boris-- or whatever it was about Boris that made Theo’s entire world brighten, but also feel that much darker when he wasn’t there to distract him. “No. I’m not angry at you.”
"It is about me.” Boris wasn’t offended or surprised. He was formulating an answer.
“No-- No, it’s not. I just said it wasn’t-- Boris, can’t you just drop it? I don’t want to fucking talk about this right now.” Theo pinched the cigarette between his thumb and forefinger.
“What is this? You have not said anything! Have just said is not is not is not. What is it!” Boris leaned his elbow on the step above him, leaning his body back but also closer to Theo. He lowered his voice and furrowed his eyebrows. “Potter, can tell me. Is it something that happen at work? People come in? Cause trouble?” Theo expected there to be a joke-- or at least the comic relief of Boris thinking someone held up the shop or robbed it. But, Boris was seriously only inquiring about anything out of the ordinary. Out of the realm of numbness.
Boris wanted to know about what made Theo feel-- and today, it was just the slow phases of waiting, bracing, denying. Maybe Boris was asking to hear about those other feelings too, but Theo couldn’t speak them first. Not before he thought they were real and lasting. The ground was just starting to feel sturdy under him.
“No trouble.” Theo said with a shrug. He passed Boris the cigarette again. Boris took it with a slow hand.
Theo remembered, when Boris coughed and sniffled shortly, again just how much Boris hated his brand of smokes.
Theo watched Boris place the innocently damp end of the cigarette between his own lips. The dryness of Boris’s lips stuck to the paper gently as he pulled it back out of his mouth, resting his arm over his knee. Theo licked his own lips-- not sure what he thought he’d taste.
“Hm.” Boris hummed. He paused before taking another drag. “Okay.”
Theo watched his mouth again, knowing the vitriol Boris held for the flavor, for the smell and feel of the paper, for everything but the man who always smoked them. Boris inhaled slower than Theo had been feeling all week; it was a strange feeling of solidarity. Of being seen in the dark, even when Boris wasn’t looking.
It was like Theo could know he’d always be found.
“I’m upset about you.” Theo said, swallowing the thickness in his throat.
“About? I do not understand-- about me?”
“About you-- about what... what we’re doing.” Theo rolled his eyes at his own immaturity. “It feels...” He clenched his jaw and Boris waited, waving his hand in a circular motion to egg him on. “It feels weird still. It feels weird and kind of... weird, okay? I-I don’t like it.”
“Do not like being with me?” Boris said with far too much neutrality for Theo’s comfort.
“No! Not literally, Boris. It’s like... It’s not supposed to be like this. Things like this don’t last forever.”
“Since when is that rule?”
“Since we’re both addicts that nearly got arrested for-- God, you name the crime.” Theo said dryly.
“You mean to say,” Boris coughed and pointed at Theo, handing him the cigarette back. He waved his smokey exhale away from Theo’s face. “we are two men that are not like people here.” He smoothly moved his hand over and waved at the sidewalk. It was a surprisingly acute summation of Theo’s unarticulated turmoil. Theo blinked quickly.
"I don’t want it to crumble under me.” Theo muttered. “I can’t have that happen again... First my mom and then the Barbours and then my dad and then the Barbours again and--” Theo accidentally sighed before he was ready to exhale his smoke. “I just want one good thing to last, you know?”
Boris nudged Theo’s hand. At first Theo thought he wanted the cigarette, until he felt another gentle graze of Boris’s fingertips over the inside of his wrist, warm and slightly sticky.
“I know.” Boris said quietly. “Will last as long as we need it to.”
“What if I want that to be forever? Does that make me-- I don’t know? Does that ruin it?” It ruined it. It definitely ruined it. To want something to outlive it’s expiration date? To claw out one more year when the sun and gone down--
“No.” Boris grabbed Theo’s hand, looking as if he was catching him from falling. “Because I want end of time too. Want us to be dying or dead before we give up on what it is we share.”
The touch-- public and openly intimate without any confusion-- scared Theo. “Either way, you know I’ll find you in Hell anyway.” He diverted.
“Pfft, as if I am not going to Heaven.” Boris laughed, leaning in and gently pushing on Theo’s arm. “Have done great service-- gone all over God’s green earth for pure great things in life. I am good person! Straight to Heaven!”
"Promise to bring me with you?” It was hollow wish, asking to go to Heaven. Theo knew the futility of impossibility.  It was nice to know Boris would be with his mom though--
“Potter, is no question. You are going to be with me.”
Even in death, even beyond his realm of knowing, Boris was so certain. Maybe he knew something Theo didn’t. Wouldn’t be the first time.
Theo wondered if Boris knew everything Theo did-- everything he was thinking, in that moment and always.
“Thank you.” Theo put out his cigarette on the railing, sitting up straight finally.
“Why? Have not said anything that is not basic fact. No need to thank me.”
“Thank you... for this moment of, uh, Heaven, I guess.”
“Will give to you any time. Am always yours.” The sincerity pushed down on Theo’s shoulders, slowing him down but if only to be able to wade in the moment. It was warm in a way his prickling fingertips could not be.
As Boris pushed himself up to stand-- and turned to help Theo do the same-- Theo licked his lips, still trying to taste the same nicotine and hesitation he could see glossing the swell of Boris’s bottom lip. It wasn’t time to know then what it tasted like. Later. Theo would find out-- ask-- when they were quiet, safely together, tucked under the awning of the basement door.
Bitter and sour, but pulling Theo with a taunting sweetness. Coarse under Theo’s fingers, but familiar to thread between them. All with heavy smoke circling their clothes that looked a whole lot like clouds in the bright shine of afternoon. Heaven that followed them wherever they went. Heaven that was them.
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