#I gotta be like 8 years late to the party

[spending-life-pretending]

listen I know absolutely no one here is looking for Versailles content but all I can think about rn is philippe telling the guards “he missed. Story of his life” after chevalier tries to shoot himself and then like 3 episodes later when philippe is nearly killed by thomas and chevalier goes after thomas and kills him with a single shot

[landonorizzz]

SUMMARY: pierre is not the boyfriend of the year that everyone thought. his girlfriend is left to fend for herself, fourtunately sheseems to have good people in her corner PAIRING: pierre gasly x ex! fem! ferrari media team! oc , [redacted] x fem! ferrari media team! oc (no faceclaim) WARNINGS: mentions of cheating, cursing A/N: i am so sorry, i know it's late, but college sucks (im juggling learning 3 languages at once - filology students am i right??) and my job also sucks (i don't recommend editing photos honestly) - but here we are, again, twitter heavy, i swear the plot is coming :)) also - ignore the dates, 'm too lazy to change them

A/N 2: previous parts of this series have been edited! most notable - Marci's a Ferrari employee, not Redbull like before

masterlist | previous next

liked by marcilazzaro1, sarah_scott and others

clairobernie_x a natural progression of the night (italians sure knows how to party)

see all comments...

sarah_scott when is my invite coming? i wanna party with you too

↳ clairobernie_x gotta get the connections first babe

↳ sarah_scott well, can't really get with pierre, my boyfriend would definitely mind

↳ clairobernie_x yeah, fair lol

↳ marcilazzaro1 you're invited next year, how about that?

↳ sarah_scott lovely stuff 🥰

shithappens is that... marci? flashing someone? i'm in love

ilpredestinatox jesus i love this duo

quickstappen the annual media team party!!

marcilazzaro1 remind me to never drink with you again

↳ clairobernie_x you loved it

zoebryne_x how are y'all so hot

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marcilazzaro1 posted a story!

2 MONTHS LATER

liked by mickschumacher, charles_leclerc and others

brunolazzaro_03 welcome to crisis-ville, sarah_scott this is entirely your fault

tagged: marcilazzaro1, federrere

(this is a private account, you cannot reply to this post)

see all comments...

charles_leclerc oh god, straight from the bottle? what did you do to this woman

↳ brunolazzaro03 trust me, this isn't even her lowest moment from this month

↳ marcilazzaro1 dude?? stop exposing me

↳ brunolazzaro03 or what.

↳ marcilazzaro1 i have tonio's phone number

↳ brunolazzaro03 YOU WOULDN'T DARE

↳ charles_leclerc do i even wanna know who tonio is?

↳ marcilazzaro1 his boyfriend ;)

↳ brunolazzaro03 HE'S NOT

sarah_scott i deny all my involvement in this crisis

↳ marcilazzaro1 of course you do

↳ sarah_scott hey! i only gave you an idea, not tell you to spiral

mickschumacher is she like... okay?

↳ brunolazzaro03 first off, has she ever been?

↳ mickschumacher true

↳ marcilazzaro1 catching strays left and right in my own home, unbelievable

lance_stroll remember to hydrate or whatever

↳ marcilazzaro1 i am

↳ lance_stroll with WATER

↳ marcilazzaro1 didn't jesus turn water into wine?

↳ lance_stroll you are hopeless

federrere hey what the fuck, that's my shirt??

↳ marcilazzaro1 well, i have news for you then

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Marci's messages:

S: Mick showed me Bruno's post

S: Are you okay?

M: Yeah, I'm good, just...

M: A lot of things on my mind I guess.

S: Yeah, I get that. If you ever need to run away my doors are always open.

M: I might take you up on that right before the preseason testing. Need to survive the trip with Lewis first tho, I have no idea what he has planned.

S: Good luck with that.

S: See you soon Marci.

4 MONTHS LATER

8 MONTHS LATER

nicolashamilton just posted a story!

madi's radio: just to note again, this series has been edited, i heavily suggest checking out the previous parts again, although you can probably work it out on its own too. thanks to @anthonykatebridgerton putting this idea in my head ;)

taglist: @sunny44 @rockyhayzkid @biancathecool @unluckyyoshi @woozarts @janeholt3 @celestialend @formulaal @d3kstar @yoremins @rd1410-blog @mess-is-my-aesthetic @callsignwidow @blaaahblubb @evans-dejong @lwstuff @emilyval1 @r0seandth0rns @fletchingarcher @blaaahblubb @notyaslol @dear-fifi @zimm04 @thewritingofspencerrose @elliegrey2803 @anthonykatebridgerton @firetruckstuckley @casperlikej @anephemeralwoe @vroomvroommuppett @taytaylala12 @kuskumu @clemswrld @bella-1 @leclercdream @evie-119 (xxx - couldn't tag you)

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DISCLAIMER: i do not know anything about this people, this is not real life, this is just something for fun, i do not know anythings about their life or personalities!

[dutchvanwinkle]

Mr Van der Linde Pt. 4 - Dutch x Reader

Alright you horny bastards, here’s chapter 4. It took me longer than I’d planned, and I had a very busy month, buuuuut I’m hoping it’s worth the wait! Plus, this chapter is almost twice as long as the previous so that should make up for it too.

As always, this chapter is on ao3.

Summary: John makes last-minute plans for his birthday, and you can't say no to visiting him.

Word count: 12,203

Content warnings: drunk sex, smut :)

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 | PART 7 | PART 8 | PART 9 | PART 10

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗

Happy birthday!

You set your phone down after sending the message to John, the last birthday in the academic year out of your group of friends - landing in late August. The plan was to celebrate when you all returned to university, considering that was only a few weeks away.

It’d been a couple of months since you all last saw each other, at the infamous Van der Linde party that had more than lived up to its expectations.

It was strange.

You hadn’t spoken to Dutch since then, and while he didn’t exactly have any way of contacting you, you assumed he would be capable of finding a way. If he wanted to, he would, after all.

Still, you were glad you left to go home with Javier when you did. You knew better than to make yourself readily available to a man, even if said man made your legs turn to jelly.

Your phone buzzed, and you picked it up from beside you on your bed to see a train ticket send over by John.

You gotta come down! Javi and our friends from home are going to a pub tonight. It’s an open ticket, so you can come anytime and I’ll pick you up.

John, this is for today! You suck at planning.

He replied with a few smiley face emojis, and you huffed back to lay on your bed. You could hardly say no to that, could you? He’d gone out of his way to buy you a ticket, all so he could see you on his birthday. You didn’t have plans today anyway, and it’s not like it was a long trip. Plus, you’d be out of the house; no chance for any awkward encounters with Mr Van der Linde.

That being said, you no longer harboured any embarrassment towards him. You’d retained your dignity this time around, and were more than prepared to be casual and nonchalant towards him if you did end up seeing him.

You had a few errands to run, but once you were back home you packed a small overnight bag and wore a casual outfit that was still nice enough for a night out. Jeans and a nice top had never failed you so far.

It was mid-afternoon by the time you sat down on the train, pulling out your phone to let John know you were on the way. He replied soon after.

We’re already out. Snooze ya lose

The fucker. Not like you could be mad at him on his birthday, though. Just as you were about to ask where they were so you could make your own way from the station, he sent another text.

Dad’ll pick you up.

What? No! A casual conversation in passing with the man would be manageable, but him coming out of his way to pick you up alone was a horrifying thought. Another text came through.

I gave him your number, he’ll let you know where he’s parked.

You were going to kill him. Or were you? What could you say? How dare you give your father – whom I’ve kissed, twice – my number and ask him to pick me up? No, for once, John wasn’t knowingly being a pain in the ass. Though, maybe there was still time to salvage the situation.

It’s okay, I can just get a taxi

Don’t be daft. I already asked him, he doesn’t mind. See you later

Fuck. You set your phone down on your lap and busied yourself with watching the landscape pass by through the window while you mentally braced yourself for seeing Mr Van der Linde once again.

As the second to last stop was being announced, an unknown number flashed up on your phone.

“Hello?”

“Hello.”

Well, that was the first time you’d ever been turned on by the world hello . That man’s voice was something else.

“I told John I’d get a taxi.”

“You should know by now that I am John’s taxi.”

You huffed a laugh, repositioning yourself in your seat. “Alright. I’m about five minutes away from the stop, where will you be parked?”

“There’s a drop-off rank by the exit if you know it? I’ll be there.”

“Sure, I know it. See you soon.”

“See you soon, miss.”

You hung up the phone, ignoring the playful lilt of his voice and willing your confidence in the situation to remain despite how strongly it wavered.

Thankfully, it wasn’t a large train station like in the big cities. Once you were off the platform, the exit was right by you and you could already see Dutch’s parked car. You approached, hearing the doors unlock as Dutch spotted you in his wing mirror. You braced yourself and opened the door.

He smiled warmly at you. That playful tone of his voice had bled through to his facial expression, it seemed.

You cleared your throat. “Hi.”

“You gonna get in?”

You lifted your bag into his field of view. “My bag.”

Dutch leaned over to press a button, and the boot opened. He tilted his head towards it.

You rounded the back of the car and lifted your bag into the boot. After shutting it, you slid into the passenger seat. When you turned to faff with the seat belt, Dutch’s hand reached across you and grasped the fasten. You turned your head to him and shot him a distrustful look.

The bastard just smiled, pulled the belt over, and clicked it into place.

“What are you playing at?” you asked, easily and willing yourself not to laugh, so as not to provide him with satisfaction by playing into his game. Something about his mischievous face made that a rather difficult task.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he said casually, starting his car and reversing out of his spot slightly. As he did so, he put a hand on the top of your seat and looked out his back window.

“You know exactly what I mean,” you grumbled, and his smile grew as he pulled out to begin the drive.

“How has your summer been?” he asked, changing the subject.

“Just fine, thank you. How was yours?”

He rolled his eyes, drumming his fingertips on the wheel. “That’s a rubbish answer.”

“How?” you clucked at him.

“I’m genuinely interested,” he paused, taking his eyes off the road for a moment to give you a pointed look, “I’m not just trying to make small talk. What did you get up to?”

A smile quirked over your lips; too much time spent in hospitality and practising your manners, you supposed. “I worked, mostly. But I caught up on my sleep, read a few books and watched a few things on TV that I’ve been meaning to finish. So really, nothing exciting, but I enjoyed it.”

“Better,” he hummed, and if he didn’t look so hot when he smiled smugly like that you’d have been tempted to shove him.

“And you?” you sighed, not hiding your unwillingness to say the expected line in return.

“Went away with the kids for a week. Other than that, I worked. Actually,” his eyebrows pulled up as an idea came to mind, “you should come with us when we go next year.”

You snorted a laugh, then realised he was entirely serious. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Why would I go?”

At his silence, you glanced over and observed the half-smile on his face. “For my benefit.”

You scoffed, not wanting to reward him with a laugh again. As you recognised the roads on the way to his house, you realised he wasn’t taking you straight to the bar. “Oh, aren’t you taking me straight there? I have everything I need, you can just take the overnight bag back with you.”

“Oh, can I now?” he asked, teasingly.

“So you don’t have an extra trip,” you clarified, not wanting to come across ungrateful.

“Well,” he said gently, “we’re almost there now.”

“Dutch,” you tutted. “I’m already late.”

“Hush.”

With a defeated huff, you relaxed back into the seat and decided not to fight him on this. He was giving you a lift, after all. And truthfully, you didn’t trust yourself alone with him. The train journey, along with the time at home over summer, had given you a good chunk of time to think about the situation you’d found yourself in.

After the party, you’d been disappointed that Mr Van der Linde had acted as though nothing happened, but now you supposed it was for the best. Since, what was the alternative? The two of you start dating ? Or, you have a quick fling, that you’d have to keep from John for the rest of your friendship? No, no good could come from this.

You weren’t going there again.

When John had asked if you wanted to come and stay you were hesitant but decided that no , you do have self-control and kissing his father was a mistake. A lapse of judgement. You couldn’t do it to him. John was more important.

The car stopped and you automatically undid your seatbelt, exited the car, and removed your bag. “I’ll get a taxi to the pub,” you informed Dutch as he locked the car once you shut the boot.

“No you won’t,” he responded instantly, and you followed him up the drive and to the front door.

“What’s the point of your bringing me here to drop my bag if you’re going to insist on dropping me off?” you asked, wondering when you began feeling so at ease with him to treat him as though he was one of your friends, instead of a friend’s parent. Perhaps it was when you shared a drunken kiss. Those were known to bring two people closer together.

Dutch smiled to himself, opening the door and gesturing for you to come in. You rolled your eyes and ignored his chuckle as you entered, before making your way upstairs to dump your bag in the same spare room you’d used the first time you visited.

“Okay,” you said on your way down the stairs but stopped in your tracks when you found the hallway empty. You walked down and to the kitchen, finding Dutch pouring a glass of wine upon your entry. “I’m ready to go, but I can get a taxi, especially if you want a drink -”

“It’s for you,” he held it out, “so you can catch up.”

“I’m already late,” you laughed but walked towards the breakfast bar and took the drink anyway. You leaned on it while you had a sip. “I will drink this quickly .”

“Fine,” he shrugged, that stupid smile on his face once more. He looked you up and down. “You look nice.”

“Thank -”

“A little too nice.”

Here we go again . You tutted at him. “Really?”

He smiled; enough of a confirmation.

“Well,” you sighed stubbornly. “I don’t want to go there again. Not anymore.”

Dutch’s brow quirked, and you hated him for how much he loved these sorts of games, especially since he was so damn good at them. “Is that right?”

“Yes.”

He took slow steps to round the island and stopped behind you. His signature smell that propelled you into a hazy pool of lust reached you before he did, his hand coming to rest on the counter beside you. Then his other hand, on the other side. He’d boxed you in. “Is that right?” he repeated, lowering his tone.

You took another sip of your wine and swallowed. “Yes.”

“There’s no need to be nervous, my dear.”

“I’m not,” you answered instantly, but took another swig of wine and that coupled with the quietness of your voice proved that yes , you were nervous. No part of him had even come into contact with you, yet you felt like your legs would buckle at any given moment.

“That so?”

You nodded.

He straightened up, and he was so close you could almost feel him. “How about now?”

“Do you want me to be nervous?”

“Just trying to figure you out,” he murmured.

“And what have you deduced?”

“I’m glad you asked. You see,” he slid his hands slightly closer to you, lessening the space you were trapped in. “You and I are rather similar.”

“We are?”

“Mhm.”

“How so?”

“We want similar things.”

You swallowed. “Do we?”

One of his hands moved off the counter, brushing your hair away from your ear and neck, before lightly tracing your spine and landing comfortably on your lower back. “Yes,” he whispered, lips just an inch from your ear.

“I’m going to be late,” you announced quietly.

“You’re already late. Besides, John can wait – I've been waiting much longer.” With that, he pressed his lips to your neck. You tilted your head, effectively melting into him and his torso met your back at just the right time. His hand journeyed from your lower back to your stomach, thankfully holding you up against him.

You released a slow breath, feeling comfortable enough to lose yourself in the man as he took his lips from your skin. You turned in his embrace, facing him, and placed your palms on his waist. His dark eyes were entirely taken over by lust. He’d seduced you, so easily despite your inner monologue of protest. “You can’t just -”

Dutch cut you off by pulling you into a heated kiss. He took his time, slowly moving his lips on yours but with an undeniable sense of urgency. “You’re fucking irresistible -” he said in between his affections, both of his hands now grasping your hips.

“- This is a terrible birthday present for your son -”

“- What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him -”

“- Shit,” you put your hands on his chest to keep him at bay and to allow a moment of reprise. “Where’s Tilly?”

“Obviously not here,” he said, as though it was the most ridiculous thing for you to be concerned about.

You tsked through your teeth. “Obviously.”

Dutch leaned in to resume the activity, but your hands remained pressed into his (rather delightful) chest. “What if someone comes in?”

“I am fully aware of who resides in my house. And it is currently nobody but us.”

You huffed, his lack of understanding for your worries needling under your skin. “Well, what if you’ve gone senile? It’s possible that you aren’t entirely aware.”

He stilled, looking at you with incredulity. “You aren’t funny.”

You smiled in response, disagreeing with his statement.

“That what you’re into? Senior citizens , if that’s what I am?”

You held in your laugh and noticed the twitch of his amused lip. “Depends, are you always into girls half your age?”

Dutch glanced away with a quiet, defeated sigh. “Touché.”

Your laugh escaped, and you were reminded just how easy it was to be with him. The last thread of common sense that remained in your mind reminded you of all the reasons why you shouldn’t.

"I said I wasn't gonna do this again," you said, regretfully.

"So did I."

That alone was enough to scare you, because god how were you expected to experience this and just walk away from it? Your insides were on fire, your body thoroughly burning up with passion after such a minute exchange. When faced with the prospect of this actually not happening, it was a stark realisation of just how much you wanted... needed it. "Suppose we’ve already done it now."

“I like your way of thinking, girl,” his low voice dripped with pride, and it didn’t help.

He kissed you once more, and you swore you could happily just do this all day. His lips against yours felt like something you’d been looking for your entire life, and then there was him , broad and charming and mature and smart and he wanted you -

It’s John’s birthday.

“Right,” you proclaimed, and you’d have physically slapped yourself out of it if it wouldn’t make you look completely insane. You pushed his chest with more force, allowing enough space between you so you could slip out of his embrace. He reached for you again, and you put your hands up in surrender, stilling him. “No. I need to go. I’m already going to have to tell John my train was delayed,” you pressed your lips together, “and reapply my lipstick.”

Dutch chuckled fondly, dropping his hand down. “Fine. I’ll just wait for you to get back.”

You tilted your head at him exasperatedly. “ Dutch .”

He was gentle when he reached for your hand again, and held it, bringing your knuckles to his lips and folding your fingers closed around his. “Alright. I’ll drive you now.”

-

John was... very drunk.

It was his birthday, so you didn’t blame him one bit, but you’d honestly be surprised if he even remembered you’d been there come morning.

“Another shot for the birthday boy!” Javier announced, multiple shot glasses of... something somehow balanced between his fingers. He placed them down before jovially patting John on the back.

John didn’t take a single moment to ponder what was in his glass before it was down his throat, and you could only laugh.

“Javi,” you lamented fondly, “it’s all well and good turning all his insides to ethanol when you’re not the one that has to get him home alive.”

Javier laughed, picking up a shot and shunting it towards you, clinking his own against it once it was in your hand and knocking it back. You followed suit. “I’ll see if I get him to do a tactical -”

“Chunder?” Javier interrupted, “he’s already done it.”

“God damnit,” you sighed with a laugh, keeping an eye on the security guard who somehow hadn’t noticed the sloppy state of one of its patrons.

“He’ll be fine ,” Javier slurred, “always is, somehow. Things just work out for our Johnny.”

“Don’t they just,” you snorted, watching with amusement as he swayed to the music in his seat. Only a matter of time before -

“I love this song!” John grabbed your hand and pulled you up, nodding his head towards the more open area of the bar where a few people were dancing.

“Ah,” Javier hummed as he followed behind the two of you, “not long now before he passes out.”

You gave him a look of agreement; John was nothing if not a creature of habit, following the same cycle every time he had one too many drinks. Mentally, you made a bet that in twenty minutes the two of you would be outside, trying to flag down a taxi.

Twenty-five minutes later, and there you were.

“New record for him, ain’t it?” Javier commented as he tried to find an Uber that’d accept his ride while steadying himself on the lamppost and honing all his concentration on his phone screen.

“Yeah...” you shrugged your shoulder up in an attempt to straighten the John that was slumped on you for support, “remind me why I’m the one holding him up and not you?”

“Ah, I got one!” Javier ignored you, squinting at the screen to read the number plate.

With a sigh, you once again tried to readjust John to prevent him from falling face-first onto the concrete, despite how amusing that would be. Thankfully, the taxi didn’t take long to arrive, though since Javier’s stop was first, you were left alone to try and heave John out of the seat and into the house.

“Come on John,” you grumbled, supporting him up the few steps to the front door while trying to block out your own drunkenness, “work with me here.”

As you were trying to get his key from his pocket, since he had no desire (or ability) to listen to your instructions and get them out himself, the door opened, and Mr Van der Linde stood there with a blasé expression, dressed in joggers and a t-shirt.

Wordlessly, you removed John’s arm from your shoulder and handed him to his father, who chuckled at your eagerness to part with the responsibility of keeping his son upright.

“Good night?” he asked John, who answered by putting his arms around Dutch’s neck, and you laughed to yourself at how much like a kid he seemed at that moment.

Dutch rolled his eyes as you shut the front door, giving the stairs a weary look. “I’m pretty sure I can’t carry him anymore.”

“I don’t know,” you hummed as slow steps were made towards them, “he’s like a string bean.”

“And so is my spine.”

“Fair enough,” you chuckled. “Go on, I’ve got the back.”

And thus began the descent, and while he managed to pull his own feet onto each step, with each one John became weightier – or Dutch’s strength lessened, you weren’t sure.

The three of you made it up without any broken bones, and Dutch opened the door to the next flight of stairs that lead to John’s room. “I’ll get him into bed,” he positioned John at the doorframe before leaning towards you, a twinkle in his eye, and murmuring, “you stay right there.”

You bit your tongue and gave him a daring look, folding your arms across your chest. It’s not like there was anything you wanted more, the alcohol in your system making him look that extra bit more attractive, but you didn’t want him to know that.

Unfortunately, Dutch had already deduced that to be the case and gave you a half-smile after glancing down your form, then proceeded to get John up the stairs.

You took out your phone, quickly checking your appearance and being thankful that you didn’t look too dishevelled.

Dutch returned momentarily, pointedly closing the door and breathing a sigh of relief. “You don’t seem very drunk," he commented.

"No. John was already wasted when I got there so I presumed I'd have to look after him."

"My son. The liability," he proclaimed with mocking disappointment, and you laughed softly.

The following quiet pause hung in the air between the two of you, and you cleared your throat.

“Care to have a drink with me, now? The night is still young,” Dutch said charmingly, but you blanched at thought of doing anything while your best friend was under the same roof. You’re tired and ready for bed? That’ll work.

“It’s...” you checked the time on your phone, and your excuse thinned out into the air. “Jesus. It's only eleven.”

“Exactly.” Dutch began the journey downstairs to the kitchen, not leaving you with room to argue, and so you followed him there. You didn’t want to argue. You wanted to sit and have a drink; to spend time with him. But as usual, and rightfully so, your conscience willed you to protest. Perhaps reasoning that he hadn’t provided room to argue was a cop-out, but you stuck with the excuse all the same. Dutch took out two snifters from the kitchen cupboard along with an already-open bottle of brandy.

“Are you trying to get me drunk, Mr Van der Linde?” you asked, eyeing the generous measure he poured for each of you.

“Now why would I do a thing like that?” he asked innocently, swiping the drinks up and walking into the adjoining living room.

“So you can make an advance on me?” you gently accused him, getting yourself comfortable on the sofa as he did the same.

“I don’t need to get you drunk to do that,” he tilted his head at you, handing you the glass.

“No?” you took a sip and ignored how many drinks you’d mixed that night, hoping your body would do the same. The brandy tasted more expensive than anything you’d ever drunk before.

The tension built as he took a sip of his drink, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on you. He didn’t need to clarify his answer further. “How cute,” he smirked, and you rolled your eyes.

“What do you gain from teasing me like this?” your soft voice betrayed your act; there was no fooling Dutch that despite your question you rather enjoyed his teasing.

He chuckled easily, watching his brandy swirl around the glass before taking it to his lips. His gaze flicked up to you and remained there for a short moment. “Let’s just say you’re rather expressive.”

“Expressive?”

Dutch hummed his agreement.

“How so?” you wracked your mind, suddenly feeling as though you were exposed bare in front of him. In your opinion, you’d done a semi-decent job of blocking the outward display of your desires. Though maybe you had, the strength of said desires made it impossible to hide them fully.

He tilted his head, examining you. “Your lip tightens ever so slightly,” he said softly, continuing his appraisal of your face, “those eyes of yours too, I can practically see your irises take over the rest.”

You scoffed. “All that tells me is that you spend far too long looking at my face.”

Your opponent's own face softened, Dutch’s hard features somehow gentle in the low light of the living room, illuminated only by a standing lamp in the corner. A small smile seeped onto his face. “It’s cruel to blame a man with refined tastes for admiring something so well crafted.”

“You and your tastes ,” you muttered into your glass, taking a swig.

“I must say, you do continue to impress me.”

“Yeah?” you raised your brows, patiently awaiting whatever silken spool he was winding you with.

He nodded, expression content but with an underlying playfulness; as though the two of you were in on some unspoken inside joke. “Your willpower far surpasses mine.”

You snorted a laugh, though it came out quiet and not fully committed. “You view yourself rather highly.”

“We must all have our own frame of reference.”

“I suppose,” you took another sip, the surface of your skin prickling thanks to the strong spirit. “How come you refer to it as willpower?”

“What would you call it?”

The way Dutch spoke to you, the way he asked his questions and observed your body language along with the answer you gave, provided an odd sense of security. It was as though he was sifting through your brain, almost getting lost in the abyss that was your thoughts. Every answer you gave provoked a new avenue of exploration, and it gave you a small measure of power to have someone listen so intently to what you had to say. In your experience with men, conversations had often been one-sided as they waited for your response only so they could have their turn to speak. Had his communication skills been refined with age, or was it simply him , harbouring a desire to learn more about you? “I’m not sure,” you settled on your answer, “but how do you know it isn’t just unreciprocated feelings?”

He smiled proudly at that, a laugh coming from deep in his chest. His eyes practically shone with awe, as they usually did when you tested his boundaries. You supposed this was what this whole thing was about – how many boundaries would the two of you test in the pursuit of... what was it? Pleasure?

“I know that’s not the case,” he said lowly.

“Like I said. You view yourself highly.”

There was a pause, Dutch sighing contently as the two of you took another sip. “I would like to return our topic of conversation to the subject of my tastes.”

“Well... what about my tastes?”

Dutch’s eyes glinted, as though that was a question he’d been waiting to answer. “We can talk about those, too, if you like. Though I already know what you want.”

“Is that so?” you swallowed.

His answer was a shuffle closer to you, taking your glass along with his and setting them down on the coffee table. He turned his eye line to your hair, of which he gently brushed a strand away from your face. “Yes,” he answered, keeping his attention on the movement of his hand. “You recall our earlier conversation.”

You nodded, despite it not being a question. Dutch lowered his hand; its journey slow as it made its way to your thigh. His palm rested there lightly, but it was self-assured. The sensation of his big, firm hands on you sparked something deep in your gut. His head tilted downwards, he looked at you through his lashes, and there was no denying the lust plain on his face.

But he wanted to play games, so you planned on giving him his way. Dutch may believe he’s the only one with the upper hand of knowledge, but you knew just what he wanted.

There was a part of Dutch that wanted you to give in, for need and desire to overtake your composure and to have you throw yourself at him. But the way you sat, unmoving yet relaxed, furthered his interest in you. He did love a challenge. And at the feeling of your thigh under his palm, he set himself the task of reducing you to your purest desires.

“I was reading a book recently,” he mused, gently running his thumb back and forth on your thigh.

“Were you now.”

“About the dangers of men and their greed,” he continued, “until they destroy all that lies in the path of their pursuit until there is nothing left. You know what happens then?”

His arm snaked around your shoulders, and you ignored it, but you couldn’t help softening slightly into his supportive limb.

“I asked you a question.”

“I don’t know.”

“Once they’ve destroyed all this earth has to offer, they in turn destroy themselves.”

“Forgive me, Mr Van der Linde -”

“Dutch, darlin’,” he interrupted absentmindedly.

“ Dutch ,” you allowed his name to roll off your tongue and didn’t miss the low growl of approval in the man’s chest as he leant further towards you. “I don’t see how this is relevant.”

“I’m not finished,” he said plainly.

“Then please,” you stretched your back minimally, enough for his eyes to dart to your chest, “continue.”

Dutch's attention turned to his hand, still on your thigh that he kneaded firmly then returned to its resting position, gripping you noticeably harder than it had previously. “I have always prided myself in valuing what I have , not allowing my desires to manifest in things I do not need.”

You waited patiently when he checked your reaction, his torso entirely pressed into yours.

“Yet...” his voice dropped almost to a low hum, close enough for you to practically feel the vibrations of his baritone. His face moved to the side of yours, his lips beside your ear. “Yet I find myself desiring. ”

You swallowed.

“The modern man is taught to give up his pleasures, a mere insult to our existence, considering inside us there exists the human, and the animal...”

He brushed his nose up the side of your head, breathing in the scent of your hair.

“To ignore either one goes against our very nature.”

“It does,” you said, intending your words to come out as a question but instead they reached Dutch as a confirmation.

“Instead of leaning into those pleasures,” Dutch’s palm slowly brushed up your thigh and he felt the muscle underneath twitch involuntarily, “they allow society to tell them what they want. Struck by a fear of delving into the recesses of their own minds to find out what they truly desire. Instead, they want to acquire for the sake of acquisition, things that serve no purpose. So now you see my problem - I find myself wanting to acquire what I currently hold in my hands.”

He squeezed your flesh, angling himself towards you, that carnal desire he spoke of hard against your leg. His arm that’d been over your shoulders returned to its owner and he brushed the back of his finger over your cheek. You tilted your head towards him, eyelids relaxed, and a warmth spread in Dutch’s chest at your slow undoing. Though, he still had some work to do. Experimentally, you leaned in, and Dutch took it as his cue to speak once more and took his hand away.

“But then,” - your next breath out was slightly audible - he already had you where he wanted you, didn’t he - “I was struck by an epiphany. I am not like them. You know why?”

You shook your head, releasing a shaky breath as Dutch’s fingertips returned, and slid up your neck until reaching your chin, holding it between his fore and index finger while he gazed intently at your bottom lip.

“ Those men, they don’t place value in the having of the thing. They want it until they have it, then they want something else,” he sighed contently, moving forward as though to kiss you but pausing, pulling your chin down until your lips parted and then continuing, instead taking your bottom lip gently between his teeth. He dragged them against your skin until your lip released, and the slight part in your mouth remained, though now your bottom lip was redder than before – your blood rushing to sit underneath the surface. A beautiful sight.

You remembered then, your earlier intention of remaining sturdy, but didn’t have enough in you to cease the softening of your body bit by bit, falling gladly in the mould Dutch presented for you. There, the world seemed simple, comfortable, a place where you didn’t have to constantly think , and could just be...

“Man,” Dutch continued, now almost consuming you in every way one can be consumed, “when left to his desires will induce hell. I believe it is our business to find heaven, and I think I know the first place to look.”

“Where?” your question came out in a thin sigh, barely there at all.

He smiled, glad that you’d asked as much as he was glad that you were listening so well. He ran his lips along your jaw, his hot breath skirting down your neck and you could hardly notice his hand on your leg creeping up the remaining distance. “ Right between your thighs. ” He cupped your clothed pussy and squeezed .

Your gasp was staggered, a noise that wanted to be a yell, but you repressed it as much as you could. Finally, your hands reached for Dutch and gripped to the first thing they could find: the sides of his firm waist. You pulled him to you and demanded he kiss you back, which was no big ask for him.

While he could feel your wanting hands tugging, there wasn’t much direction from them except closer , so Dutch allowed his weight to lean in and convinced you to lay on the sofa until his frame covered yours. His palm remained in place, and you ground your hips up into it while kissing him fervently. It was the sort of kiss where both parties refused to back down, each of their desires – the irony didn’t escape you – wishing to conquer. But Dutch had the upper hand, being above you and controlling your pleasure just by squeezing . Your head dropped back, a sigh of ecstasy releasing, and all Dutch could do was growl.

“That’s right,” he praised soothingly, pressing his palm harder into your mound, “give in to me.”

You happily obeyed that command, wrapping your arms around his neck and shifting your thighs, the wetness in your pants growing to a level of discomfort. That, coupled with the sweat pooling on your skin, made you feel positively dirty . It was a happy state of being, to be so okay with that and truthfully, wanting more.

Dutch moved his hand away and you whined pitifully, him chuckling at the extent of power he now had over you and rewarding himself with a desperate squeeze of your breast.

There was a pause, one where you just looked at each other with chests heaving and desire rippling from your bodies in waves. All you could see in his eyes was a certainty, what for you weren’t quite sure, and his intentions were clear as day as he silently communicated them with you. The relaxation of your shoulders was enough of a response for him, and his façade of seduction slipped only for a moment as he offered you a warm, slight smile.

It left as quickly as it had appeared, Dutch opting for doing the one thing he’d thought of more than anything since he’d met you. He pushed the fabric of your top up your stomach, and you shifted onto your elbows to allow him to remove it. You hardly noticed his fingers trace around the wire of your bra until they reached the back, unclasping it in one swift motion. Holding your arms out, he took it as his cue to remove the garment and his gaze transfixed on your bare skin.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, his index and middle finger slowly swiping up to run a nipple between his digits.

It was... different. He was admiring you, taking his time despite his arousal bursting at the seams (literally - you could see it). It felt like it had always been missing in your previous encounters, and while you recognised the sweetness in his zealous actions, this time you wanted to be rushed. Just a little, to allow yourself to remain in the heady state you’d found yourself in.

You interrupted his infatuation by leaning up, shucking his t-shirt up and he smirked while raising his arms. “My turn.”

“Of course.”

Dutch moved to sit back on his haunches, to allow you both a moment to drink each other in. He forgot that you’d already seen his chest, as delightfully toned and hairy as it was, in much better lighting some months previously. Sure, you could look at him all day if given the task but one glance at his skin was enough for you to want to feel it against yours while the opportunity presented itself. You sat up with a huff, practically pouncing on the unsuspecting man and taking a seat on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Oh, darlin’,” he said with an air of surprise, and before he could start talking again you landed your lips on his thick neck, kisses and licks that turned into grazing bites evaporating all his thoughts from his head.

Despite his joggers and your jeans separating the two of you, Dutch was so furiously hard that it was more than enough friction for you to grind against. So you did, you rocked your hips over his length and build up that stimulation, tilting your head up with a breathy sigh and squeezing your legs around his.

Your eyes fell shut, the buzz of alcohol coupled with the buzz of arousal too tempting not to chase. Dutch’s eyes, however, were transfixed as he watched you. His big palms held your thighs while he enjoyed your show, the crease between your brows, the part of your lips, and the flush underneath your skin was a delight to watch. However, his favourite thing about your show was that it wasn’t for him; it was for you.

His dominance and desire to pin you down and fill you up was still there, somewhere, but drifted further away with every greedy grind of your hips. “You are perfect like this,” he said lowly, almost to himself, but you stalled your motions and blinked your eyes down to look at him questioningly. “Being selfish looks good on you,” he clarified.

Your laugh was muted when you rolled your eyes, and you opted for kissing him again and favouring slow movements of your hips.

Dutch allowed it, for a moment, but his practised patience was beginning to wear thin. “I think that’s enough teasing for me,” he muttered against your mouth.

While you were a sight to behold, he’d allowed you to turn him into a speechless deer stuck in a beam of headlights, allowed himself to give in and become pliant. That wasn’t how it was in any of his fantasies. There, he ploughed into you while you whined, and prepared your grounds for the sowing of his seeds. With an effective grunt, he gripped a hand on each of your upper arms and twisted you to lay on your back, resuming his dominating position over you.

You smirked up at him, a little surprised but with no complaints. This was really going to happen.

Dutch’s joggers now sat low on his hips, and your eyes were drawn to the dark hairs that led down into them. “Ah ah,” he teased, “it’s my turn now. Remember?”

You flicked your eyes up to him and shrugged, settling into the sofa and gesturing to your jeans to give him the go-ahead. His face lit up with poorly contained excitement, either that or you were beginning to read his emotions better, and he swiftly got to work undoing your jeans. He slowed enough to remind himself that this was rather a big deal and took his time as he dragged the material down your legs. He bit down on his tongue at the sight of you exposed, save for your underwear which was moist with your desire. Dutch was drawn to it, pressing the pad of his thumb over the wet patch and you were responsive as ever, moving your hips to chase the pleasure.

He would’ve been happy to watch you squirm some more, but you were nothing if not fair and decided to carry on implementing this rule system the two of you had created. You sat up, placing your fingertips on his waistband and glancing up to get permission. He nodded once and leaned down to kiss you while you slipped the joggers over his delightful thighs.

When the kiss broke, you widened your eyes in surprise when you looked down to see his cock, hard and frustrated.

“Where’s your underwear?” you asked him, and he tilted his head at you with incredulity.

“Why would I wear underwear to bed?”

Oh. You’d forgotten this was just his sleeping attire. “Good point,” you agreed. “That means I’m out of turns.”

“That’s alright,” Dutch leaned over you, hooking his thumb into your underwear, “I do believe it’s my turn, anyway.”

With that, your underwear was off, and you each took a moment to admire the other, your mind turning to filth at the thought of all he could do with... that...

The most appropriate way you could put it was that he was rather blessed. And soon you would be, too.

Dutch leaned over you, his skin on yours enough to keep your mind cloudy and content. “Positively... delectable,” he purred, lowering his lips to commence a slow kiss and you gripped his forearms; anchoring yourself to him.

“Now darlin’,” he huffed, attempting to order his scrambled thoughts, “I need to be fair and honest with you.”

You paused, frowning. “About what?”

“I told you earlier, I am not interested in desire. While I desire you now, I do not wish to desire something I cannot have.”

Your frown deepened, and you glanced down at yourself. “But, I’m allowing you to -”

“I know ,” he soothed. “I don’t just mean now.” Dutch paused for a moment, too many wonderful parts of you that he wanted to look at, so he instead opted for your face, which he was already rather fond of. “If I have you... then I must have you. If I become accustomed to the taste of your skin, I know, I just know...” he trailed off, running his hand up your flank and across your chest, lazily thumbing a nipple. “It will no longer be want. Having you, it will be a need .”

You relaxed, eyes returning to their softened state.

“Do you understand?”

You nodded.

“No - do you really understand? What me having you now entails?”

You nodded again.

“Words, darlin’.”

“I -” you faltered, understanding perfectly what was to come next but deciding instead to indulge yourself in the honeyed prose that oozed from his mouth. “Tell me.”

His brow raised, impressed that even in your lust-filled state you were able to continue the act of teasing. “Very well,” he agreed, scanning his eyes down your naked form underneath him, the head of his cock leaking onto your leg. “I will have this,” he lamented with a hand on your stomach before it drifted down to rub the sides of your folds, toying with the almost-pressure between his alternating fingers. “And I will have this. I will take from you, my sweet, and grip onto that waist of yours while I also give . I will give, I will pump you full of me until I have nothing left.”

You bit down on your tongue, rolling your hips with not an ounce of shame. “ Okay .”

Dutch smiled, pleased. He sat back on his haunches, taking a hand to the innards of your knees before kissing each one and opening your legs. He stared at what he found, cock twitching as it stood impatient against his abdomen, his tongue darting out on his lip absently. He brushed his hands up your thighs until they reached your waist, and he pulled you roughly towards him, towering over you as he chuckled darkly. A slight gasp left you, and you squirmed with how close he was to joining the two of you.

And there it was. You, needy and flustered underneath him, and it was beyond worth the wait.

Though it wasn’t necessary, Dutch resumed the stroking of your folds, this time dipping into your slit to tease your entrance. He bit back a moan, the hint of wetness, warmth, and plush flesh that he was about to experience very intimately almost making him lose his wavering control over the situation. Your walls clenched, willing him to relieve you and truthfully not believing you needed any form of preparation, but perhaps it was a precaution – or he was being a gentleman.

The fact was that Dutch just wanted to feel you, not only with his fingers but his tongue, too; though that would have to wait for another day lest he wanted to finish before he’d even started.

He slid a finger in without resistance, your body doing everything to ask for more , to keep what was already filling you. It slipped out a few inches and a second finger entered along with it on the next experimental journey in and you released a breathy moan, feeling nothing aside from pleasure. Briefly, you wished this had happened at the party a few months back so you could’ve done it while he wore his rings. Though, you weren’t in a position to complain.

Dutch’s approving hum accompanied his slow ministrations, crooking his fingers slightly so that they just brushed against the raised bump in your walls and your next breath came out lined with frustration.

“Come on, Dutch,” you’d intended to be assertive, but your voice hung in the air with a seductive tone, one that still had the desired effect as Dutch immediately removed his fingers and held his hand around his cock, leaning over you some. You smirked at his eagerness and didn’t miss the flash of annoyance over his eyes, though it was borne from a now-familiar fondness on his part.

“You are a rather,” he paused to run the head of his cock over your slit and you bit down on your bottom lip, “ demanding young woman.”

With his cock meeting your pussy for the first time, the stark realisation hit you of just what you were doing. It must’ve shown on your face, causing Dutch’s brows to tense with concern.

“Are you alright?”

You nodded, reminding yourself to take a breath and relaxed some. It was an odd mix of emotions, your excitement and nervousness coming together to make you almost giddy, and you laughed a little with apprehension. “John’s right upstairs.”

Dutch’s expression grew gentle, and he ran the head of his cock down your slit once more, leaning down to touch the tip of his nose to yours. “Then you better keep quiet.”

The barely-there sensation turned to a dull pressure, and then his cock slipped past your entrance and you moaned as he filled you, arching up and gripping the fabric of the sofa as you felt what must be the best sensation of your entire life.

He just kept going , and your attention was drawn to how big he was as he pushed all the way in to nestle his hipbones comfortably into your ass. “That’s not quiet,” he warned, voice restrained as he too kept his response to a minimum.

You chuckled, and Dutch felt it vibrate on his shaft and screwed his eyes shut as the delightful feeling you provided took over him. The man in him withered away, until he was more animal than anything and he briefly questioned whether desire was truly that bad. Then, he internally reprimanded himself for thinking about Evelyn Miller, however briefly, while he was nestled inside a beautiful woman.

“God,” you breathed, making it difficult for him to think about anything else other than you, “you feel so good.”

Dutch felt the heat rise to his cheeks and planned to blame the alcohol in case he actually blushed at your compliment. “Good? Darlin’ you’re...” his mind was empty. There wasn’t a word to describe the way it felt to have your warmth envelop him, even perfect didn’t quite do it justice. “It’s like you’re made for me,” he settled on, surprised his mind could even form a full sentence.

“Dutch?” you said seriously, tilting your head inquisitively.

“Mhm?”

“I have a confession.”

“What is it?” he smirked.

“I’ve been thinking about this for some time.”

He smiled, again feeling coy thanks to your words. It was sweet, and he hadn’t expected this to be so sweet . Then your following words brought him back to reality.

“And every time,” you sat up on your elbows, brushing your lips against his and feeling brave with desire, “you fucked me. Properly.”

Thankfully, Dutch registered your insinuation, and the lust returned to his eyes and wiped out the almost starry-eyed look he’d had in them previously. His hand cupped the back of your head and he kissed you roughly, his tongue invading your mouth as he slowly inched out. He let off, allowing you to take a breath and proceeded to slam his hip into yours.

Finally , that was more like it. Your gasp was high-pitched as he repeated the motion, gradually speeding up and fucking you deeper than you thought was possible.

Dutch’s fingertips gripped the sides of your hips as he tried to pull himself further in, despite that not being possible. Your words had snapped something within him, and he leaned down to suck harshly at your neck.

“Don’t,” a quiet moan broke your sentence, “leave any marks...”

And then, the suction increased, and you gripped a hand into the back of his hair and pulled him off despite yourself. Dutch smirked down at you.

“I’m warning you.”

“You are just a vixen ,” he said with a deep thrust, “so much more to you than meets the eye, sweetheart...” his breath was hot against your ear as he returned to littering your skin with affection, his hand coming between the two of you to knead your breast. Your hand remained in his hair, fingertips running across his scalp at the base of his thick curls, though you weren’t pulling him away this time. His tongue travelled around your neck and ears, leaving cool wetness in its wake as proof of the parts of your skin he’d tasted.

So far, your teasing had been well received. You wondered where his line was. “Am I?”

Dutch hummed his agreement, hardly listening and too infatuated with the feeling of your dripping cunt, soft breasts, and delicious skin. He’d turned quieter than usual while he thrusted into you. You took one look at his face, the furrow of his brow, the tightening of his lips...

He was focusing .

It was sweet, really, that your pleasure was at the forefront of his mind. It was a breath of fresh air that you needed, but right now, wasn’t what you wanted . Screw Dutch and his books and his high horse about desires, you wanted him . You wanted to see that animal he talked so fondly of that apparently inhabited us all. This was the man, but you knew it wasn’t entirely truthful. You wanted him to let go, to take what he wanted. To give into that desire. Fuck it .

“Wish I could say the same about you.”

He paused comically, stilling his thrusts and taking his lips from you, to meet you with a glare. “What?”

“Here I was,” you relaxed back theatrically, “thinking Mr Van der Linde would be all demanding and dominant like he is during the day...” you sighed for effect, “but no. I had to practically beg you to fuck me.”

Dutch’s face didn’t crack as he pulled out of you, moving to kneel on the sofa between your legs. The humour ran cold off your face, you were the one that wanted to find the line, after all .

“I -” you began, sitting up, “I was just teasing.”

He raised a brow, and you sighed.

“Sorry, alright?” you placed a gentle hand on his forearm, “it was a joke. Too far, clearly.”

The silence hung between you, and the lack of change in Dutch’s expression was almost eery. As you moved your hand away from him, he gripped your wrist and yanked you towards him, so close that with your face in line with his chest, you had to look straight up to see his expression. Contrasting the iron grip, his other hand gently caressed your face. “Oh, you are a foolish little girl.”

He was menacing. You couldn’t read him, whether this was part of a bit or whether he was genuinely pissed off you weren’t sure. Perhaps you’d gotten so caught up and forgotten the sort of man you were dealing with, or you didn’t spend long enough at the start trying to find out. “Sorry,” you repeated. “Please.”

“Now you see,” he squeezed your jaw, “ that’s begging. But I don’t think you know what you’ve gotten yourself into, do you? Just a sweet little lamb following the scent of fresh grass right into the wolf’s den.”

He released you harshly, knocking you back and a strike of adrenaline ran through you at the dangerous look in his eyes. You didn’t have long to observe, as before you knew it, he’d flipped you over and hiked your ass into the air. Then, a slap reverbed around the room, followed by a sting of pain.

“Dutch!” you squealed quietly, and looked behind at him, “don’t - John!”

He put his hand to the back of your head and pressed your face into the sofa, leaning down to put his lips by your ear while his cock lay comfortably between your ass cheeks. “You asked for this, sweetheart. If it’s a dangerous game you want, it’s a dangerous game you get,” he bit your earlobe and released, “I pride myself in being a thorough man,” his cock began to slide into your cunt, “a man of my word .” He dragged your hips back to him with the hand that wasn’t holding your head. “Let this be a lesson, should you be tempted to try testing my integrity ever again,” you growled in your ear. “Now, princess, I think I’ll fuck all of that attitude out of you.”

With no time for you to protest, not that you wanted to, he began fucking you deep and fast, both pushing his hips forward and pulling you back. The angle was different, deeper as his cock dragged along your walls in a new way. Knowing John was upstairs was no longer a point of guilt for you, instead, it made it all the more exciting. This was wrong . You could get caught. You moaned at the thought, continuing in time with his erratic thrusts.

“Jesus,” he grumbled, reluctantly holding his hand over your mouth instead of on your head, “you’ll wake the dead with those noises of yours.”

With your head tilted up to accommodate for his hand, your back arched and Dutch furthered the bend by pressing his palm onto the middle of your back to provide an even needier view for him. “Stupid,” he grumbled between thrusts, “little, girl. Doesn’t know w-what's good for... her.” His words, while broken with grunts and restricted moans, went straight to your core. There you lay, presented like a common whore and unable to manoeuvre yourself into any other position while he pounded you into the sofa. Dutch had achieved his desired control, and you trusted him fully to bring you pleasure.

As if on cue, his hand moved from your back and round to your clit, rubbing harsh circles over it with his index finger. You moaned into Dutch’s palm, feeling your saliva seep onto his skin and feeling all the filthier for it. The man himself enjoyed it too, this was your truest desire. That tight and unwavering grip you had on your control must be tiresome, he mused while he continued to defile your cunt. “Just look at you,” he breathed, “little miss tries her hardest to be perfect, doesn’t she?” he asked, his tone patronising but only further your building arousal and you were sure you’d soon burst, “so squeaky clean yet here you are... filthy ,” he smacked your ass for good measure, “want someone to take control of you, hm? Someone to -” Dutch took a breath as he continued to hold off from finishing as long as he could. He flat-out refused to come until he got to feel your contracting pussy as you came around his cock. “Someone to look after you, someone who knows just what you need...”

He was truly a bastard. A bastard that had figured you out, and sounded proud for it. But what were you to do? Deny it? Keep up the façade - which, he was right, was truly tiring – or accept it? Allow this to be the one arena where you could just fucking let go. You nodded, despite the restriction of his palm.

You let go , of the pent-up arousal and control as it whooshed out of your body, from your abdomen and down your limbs, to the tips of your fingers and toes. Your legs tensed in an effort not to shake as you buried your head into the pillow of the sofa, aware of Dutch’s low moan of ecstasy followed by a sopping warmth entering you as he filled you up, entirely with him .

Your eyes had teared up, both from the exhilarating pleasure but too from the damn release . You relaxed into the sofa, feeling floaty and a little overwhelmed. But it was fine, you were fine. While he had been the one to warn you that there was no going back on this, you feared Dutch was the one that didn’t know what he’d gotten himself in form. This was what was missing from your life. This was the thing that poets wrote about, musicians sang about, and what the whole world seemed obsessed with. Love? Not yet. But that passion the two of you created? That shit was art .

“Darlin’?” Dutch questioned, pushing the hair off your sweaty brow and you blinked your eyes open with a tilt of your head backwards to look at him, his face full of concern. “Are you alright?”

You nodded, your best attempt at making sure he didn’t worry about you. He didn’t seem entirely fooled but also not entirely panicked. He gently eased out of you and lay beside you, coaxing you to turn over and lay against his chest. You did, a hand in his wiry hairs while you listened to the pounding of his heart gradually settle.

“Sorry, I - I lost myself a little there -”

“No,” you interrupted, and when you looked up at Dutch he thumbed underneath your eye to wipe the few fallen tears away. “No it was – it was just what I needed.”

That was all it took for Dutch’s face to relax, a genuine smile returning. His deep, brown eyes were a place of warmth, and no part of you felt like you had to appease him or lie to him or change yourself to behave perfectly. It was strange. It was like you, as you were, was enough . He kissed you gently. “Me too.”

While it was possible that your lust-induced brain was reading all the wrong signals, something about the way he looked at you was like a promise it would all be okay. That the two of you had a mutual understanding, that this was perfect for the both of you, not some gross fantasy shit as it had been in your head for over half a year. Well, maybe it was both.

You nestled your head into his chest, and he drew patterns on your back while the two of you lay naked on the sofa, returning to be wholly present in the room.

After a while, how long exactly you weren’t sure thanks to how serene the passing of time was, Dutch spoke.

“I’m sorry for not coming to find you at the party.”

“Oh,” you craned your head up to him. “That’s okay, I just assumed you were busy.” He nodded, a little relieved and you reminded yourself not to be too soft on him just yet. He was fun to tease, after all. “Plus, I don’t see it fair that I should sit around and wait for you.”

“Yes, you’re correct. Something came up that required my attention.” Dutch’s smile at you was proud, and the subsequent kiss he pressed to your cheek was almost endearing. “Good girl. That’s much more like it.”

You rolled your eyes, the praise stoking the fire still dwindling in your abdomen. “Don’t say that.”

“But why?” he questioned, leaning in to kiss your neck, “you’re such a good, good girl...” His kisses grew tender, yet sultry enough for you to make you melt.

“Shut up,” you laughed, and Dutch’s chest vibrated with amusement as he returned to embrace you. Your laugh was so true, and while a voice in the back of Dutch’s head reminded him that he was a serial romantic with a volatile tendency to rush into everything, he found he simply couldn’t help himself. This really was your truest form, not in a sense of your desires, but you . Carefree and unbound by whatever pre-conceived notions you had in your head about what part you were to play as you moved through life. He found himself adoring it. Adoring you. He kissed the crown of your head.

After another unknown length of time, your absent-minded tracing of his forearms reminded you that he had a watch. You titled his wrist towards you.

“Shit, it’s three in the morning.”

“How time flies,” Dutch murmured, and you were sure he was close to falling asleep.

“Hey,” you sat up, “we definitely can’t fall asleep here.”

“No,” Dutch sat up reluctantly, already missing your warmth and chasing it by wrapping his arms around your abdomen and placing a kiss on your shoulder. “Come stay in my bed.”

“What?” you tutted, “are you insane?”

“Some have said so.”

“No way,” you laughed, swinging your legs off the sofa and finding your jeans, your top... “hey, where did you throw my underwear?”

Dutch shrugged, immediately following suit and grabbing his joggers from the floor. You frowned at him. “What?”

You reached over to his joggers and into his pocket. Lo and behold.

“What?” Dutch repeated.

You dressed quickly, walking out of the living room and up the stairs, then into Dutch’s room. You sighed, deciding where to look first. After a minute, Dutch caught up and leant casually on the doorframe while you searched his room.

“What is it, you lunatic?” he asked casually.

You huffed, giving up rather quickly. “Where are they.”

“Where are what?”

“My pants. They grey ones, with the lace. I know you have them,” you pointed accusingly at him.

Dutch broke out into a grin, a laugh accompanying it that you knew would be much heartier if you weren’t sneaking around in the dead of night. He walked nonchalantly to his nightstand, opened the drawer, and then held up the pants for you to see.

The bastard! You could hardly believe what you were seeing.

“I have been looking for those,” you scolded, going to grab them but he just lifted him further out of your reach. “Give them back!”

“Possession is nine-tenths of the law,” he said, annoyingly.

“You stole them!”

“You left them here.”

“You’re a liar.”

Dutch smirked.

You made another futile attempt at grabbing them and failed. “They’re my favourite pair!”

“Mine too,” he said diplomatically.

“You’re a fucking pervert,” you narrowed your brow at him, placing your hands on your hips.

Dutch just shrugged. “None of us are perfect. Except maybe you,” he teased, giving you a patronising pat on the head.

So, even now, he still had time for games. You stripped off your jeans to reach your current underwear that he’d too tried to steal and pulled them off before redressing in just your jeans. “What are you doing?”

“Trade,” you held them out to him. “You can have these ones if you insist on being deranged. But I want those back.”

“Aw, no,” he shook his head disapprovingly, “it’s much less fun when you give them to me.”

“So you admit you stole them?”

Dutch didn’t respond, instead reached out and snatched the ones you held, joining them in his other hand.

“Dutch!” you said in a hushed voice.

“I’m a man with needs,” he countered, like a child hoarding toys they didn’t want to share, or a dog that had issues with resource-guarding.

“And I’m a woman with no underwear!”

“It’s a souvenir of our first meeting.”

“And what about that pair?” you shunted your hand at his newest theft.

He shrugged. “Sport, I guess.”

With a fold of your arms, you tried to give him an angry look but with his smirk, tousled hair, and fucked-out, tired expression, your smile cracked. The man was nuts, but you couldn’t deny that he was funny. “Fine. I give up,” you opened up your arms in surrender, then walked past him.

“You really aren’t staying here?”

“Not if I want to leave with my clothes.”

“I’m not interested in the rest of your clothes.”

“You have no shame.” Dutch smiled at that, pleased with himself. “And I’m tired. I will see you in the morning.” You gave him your best doe eyes and gently made your way towards him, brushing a hand over his arm. “Goodnight, Mr Van der Linde,” you said sweetly, leaning up to kiss him and when he returned your affections you reached for the pants clutched in his hands, for him to move them out of reach once more.

He chuckled, taking his lips from yours. “Nice try.”

“Bastard,” you grumbled, turning on your heels and exiting his room.

Once in the spare room, you quickly changed into a baggy top and wished you could have a shower, but that would have to wait. Although, something about falling asleep with Dutch still filling your insides was a rather erotic thought. With a silent thanks to the existence of contraception, your tiredness caught up with you and you didn’t even remember falling asleep.

-

Your choices came back to haunt you when you awoke the next morning, no longer feeling sexy and instead just feeling grimy. It was enough to get you out of bed, and you thanked the stars the shower was free.

When you walked downstairs, fresh-faced and clean, you were greeted with an empty kitchen but heard the television in the next room. In there, you found John, half-dead on the sofa.

“Morning Johnny,” you crooned leaning on the sofa with a teasing smile.

John’s response was a groan, and he shifted slightly from his face-down position to crank an eye open at you. If he only knew what that poor sofa witnessed a few hours previous.

“Would you like some coffee?”

“Please,” he murmured, and you almost felt sorry for him. However, the knowledge that he wouldn’t learn his lesson and would absolutely repeat his actions blocked your empathy from fully forming.

“Alright,” you laughed, making your way back into the kitchen and looking over the fancy coffee machine. After figuring out how to work it, you waited while the machine whirled, and it wasn’t long before the kitchen door opened behind you.

“Good morning,” came Dutch’s gruff voice, and you turned to offer him a smile. He seemed genuinely pleased to see you, and you supposed you did have a track record of disappearing before morning.

“Morning,” you greeted back, moving one of the cups out of the way for another. “Would you like a coffee?”

“Sure,” Dutch came up beside you, placing a ginger hand on your black while he pressed the button for a black coffee.

“Huh, you really are crazy.”

“You don’t like black coffee?”

“I read that those who do are more likely to be psychopaths.”

Dutch smirked, tracing his fingers up your back to your shoulder and leaning down to your ear. “Then you better watch yourself.”

You turned your head to him, and you half thought the two of you were about to share a kiss when the machine beeped to let you know it was finished. Clearing your throat, you gripped his mug along with John’s and handed them to him. “That’s for your son. He’s next door.”

“Aren’t you an obliging woman,” he took the mugs from you with a wink and walked into the living room. You heard them chatting, mainly Dutch poking fun at John, while you made your own drink and joined John on the sofa when you were finished.

“All in all, good birthday then?”

John nodded, placing his mug down on the coffee table and snuggling up beside you. You snorted a laugh, and when you glanced at Dutch you could’ve sworn a wave of jealousy passed over his face.

The three of you sat chatting for some time while the news played in the background until John began to get antsy at not yet having a cigarette. Dutch decided to join him for one, leaving you alone. That was when you saw Dutch’s phone on the table, and an idea came to mind.

You picked it up, smiling briefly and the sweet picture of his three kids that made up his background, then wiped that image from your memory to prepare for what you were about to do. They’d be at least a few minutes, and you’d hear the back door when they decided to come inside. You shucked off your trousers and hiked up your shirt, sliding Dutch’s phone to the side to access his camera. You lay on the sofa, attempting to find a good angle and being pleased the lighting was forgiving in here. Once in a position you were happy with, you snapped a quick photo, closed his phone and returned it to its spot. Swiftly, you redressed and sat back on the sofa, with a few minutes to spare before the pair returned.

You weren’t sure if there was anything planned for the day, and while you didn’t want to overstay your welcome you figured out another way to tease Dutch one last time before your departure. Who knows when you were to see him again, after all.

Once you’d washed up the mugs, you leant on the breakfast bar to pull out your phone and book a taxi while John and Dutch came in from the garden.

“You two up to much today?” Dutch asked casually, and John leaned up beside you.

“No, I’m actually going in a few.”

“You’re welcome to stay for a bit,” John offered kindly, looking slightly more alive after some caffeine and tobacco.

“Thank you, but that’s alright. I’ve got some stuff I need to get done.”

“Well, I can give you a lift to the station,” Dutch interjected, adding, “John’s probably still far over the legal limit to drive.”

John laughed to himself in agreement, and you paused to raise your brows at Dutch.

“That won’t be necessary. I’ve already booked my taxi,” you held up your phone screen for him to see, the taxi only a couple of minutes away.

Dutch’s face twitched at your defiance, and you made a show of walking around the kitchen and slinging your overnight bag onto your shoulder.

“See you in a few weeks, John,” you hugged him, and smiled kindly at Dutch once John released you. “Nice to see you again, Mr Van der Linde.”

“Yeah, thanks for coming,” said John, and Dutch gave you a barely noticeable shake of his head, but his playful smile was prevalent. “Goodbye, miss,” he added.

With that, a satisfied smile grew on your face, and you made your way out of the Van der Linde house once more.

[immajustvibehere]

Spark (1/8)

Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader - Enemies to Lovers

Series summary: An impulsive and reckless girl who stands for everything Arthur tries to overcome joins the gang. Even worse, she is related to Micah Bell. What starts off as a relationship of mistrust and hate slowly transforms into a beautiful, deeper connection, as both parties realise that there is more to the other person than what meets the eye at first.

Chapter 1 summary: Introducing new faces. Arthur is not amused when Micah tells him about his plan to add his younger half-sister to the gang. Especially after seeing her in action.

Link to my Masterlist

1900 words, less than 10 minutes reading time

Five days had passed since Arthur had helped break Micah out of the jail in Strawberry. Part of him wished to have seen him hung, but by not intervening, Arthur would have directly gone against Dutch’s orders. This wasn’t something he was keen on doing. Whatever, it’s too late now. Micah is free and should have had enough time to come up with a "gift" for Dutch. Though Arthur was curious about what Micah could have possibly found, he wasn't quite as happy about the prospect of accomplishing another heist with this man. It had taken him some effort to overcome his frustration about shooting half Strawberry for Micah's stupid guns, but it had happened.

"Hey Arthur", Micah immediately greeted when Arthur dismounted his horse, "Good to see you."

"Why?", he replied suspiciously, "You want rescuing again, do ya?"

"Ha ha", Micah's laugh was everything but genuine, "No. I got a plan to make it up to you."

"Let's hear it then."

"Cutting right to the chase - I like it. So…will you be riding with me to rob the banking coach...it comes about this time to Strawberry. I heard one of the O'Driscoll boys yapping about it while I was inside."

"You and me? Do a robbery?", Arthur questioned.

"That's what I just said. Oh, and her", Micah moved his head to reveal a woman sitting at some distance behind him. You sat on your bedroll, two holsters dangled from your hip and one of them was empty. The gun rested in your lap and was being cleaned meticulously. A frown appeared on Arthur's face. Micah and women?

"Who the hell is this?" Arthur asked, irritated.

"Oh", Micah chuckled, "That, Morgan, is my dear sister." Micah bowed comically, pointing towards you. You didn't even bother to look up, instead you just clicked  your tongue. But Arthur approached you, his hands gripping his belt. The way he tilted his head to look at you immediately annoyed you.

"Aren't you a bit young to be his sister?", Arthur asked. Fair question. You were and looked about ten to fifteen years younger than Micah.

"Half-sister", you corrected grimly.

Micah chuckled and stepped next to Arthur: "Daddy did a lot of whoring. But I guess this one… turned out… alright." With that, Micah considered you for a moment, looking you up and down. You were used to that. Though you were well aware of Micah's bad reputation when it came to approaching women gentlemanly, he had never laid a hand on you. Not in that sense, at least. He did hit and beat you, especially when you had been younger, but you had always made a point of punching back, so eventually he had stopped treating you like that.

"She's coming with us", Micah added nonchalantly.

"What?", Arthur replied, "It's bad enough I gotta trust you after the Blackwater ferry job. And now I gotta trust a girl to rob a bank stage?"

You jumped up at the word 'girl' and were ready to give this man a piece of your mind, but Micah held you back: "Easy y/n."

"In contrast to some other women in the gang, this one knows how to handle a gun, so relax cowpoke."

"Alright then", Arthur shrugged. He wasn't in the mood to argue, "After you two."

He waited patiently until Micah and you had mounted your horses. As you passed Arthur to take the lead, you shot him a nasty look. Calling you a girl and then complaining about you joining in wasn't exactly the way to make you a friend. Besides, Micah had told you some things about Arthur Morgan that assured you that staying away was the better option.

"There's a spot up this way with a good view of the trail", you said, riding ahead.

Arthur huffed under his breath: "Now I'm taking orders from her too." And yet he followed.

"So what's the deal with this coach?", Arthur asked.

"What do you mean?", Micah said, "Comes through about this time every day, like I said. The end."

"I mean...how many men? Guns? Riders?", Arthur probed.

"Why? You scared?", you chipped in with a big smile.

Arthur turned his head around to face you and snickered: "Scared this is a shit lead? Sure! Your brother has a reputation to uphold."

"Half-brother", you yelled.

"I see you two are getting along fine", Micah said, "Alright, this is the spot. Let's hold up on this ridge."

Arthur and Micah positioned their horses close to the edge, taking in the whole scenery. You stayed back and got into a more relaxed position on your horse before you lit yourself a cigarette. You pondered on your decision to join the van der Linde gang. The feeling that you would be better off alone had often proved right for you, but since Micah had helped you out a year ago, you kinda owed him. And you didn't like that. Even now, you weren't quite sure why he wanted you in the gang. The explanation he gave you was that you were capable of bringing in decent money and that you'd show the leader, Dutch or something like that, what a woman must do to be worthy of a protected place in a gang. Personally, you weren't too keen on sharing a camping spot with mothers, drunks and "old sick men" - this is what Micah had prepared you for. But here you were.

Micah's "Right on time!" shook you out of your thoughts and you were the one to ride ahead. Skillfully, you managed to cover your face while still sprinting ahead, leaving the boys in your dust. It would be fun to prove to this dickhead what a "girl" can do. You had killed two riders by the time Micah and Arthur had caught up with you, now assisting you in getting  rid of the guards. When only the driver was left, it was you who rode up, jumped onto the coach  and delivered a final bullet to the man's brain, which led to him dropping off his seat  like a sack of potatoes.

"Jeez", you heard Arthur mumble when you had halted the coach.

You grinned proudly.

"I'll give it to them, they put up half a fight at least", Micah said, climbing onto the seat and shooing you off. Somewhat annoyed, you jumped off to make place for Arthur. You silently mounted your horse again and  lazily rode alongside the coach.

"Like licking butter off a knife", Micah concluded, steering the coach.

"Something like that", Arthur sighed, "You don't wanna just break it open here, be done with it?"

"Could be more than we can carry", Micah said.

"Also, there might be another crew of riders tailing us", you added decisively.

"Sure", Arthur groaned.

Suddenly, you saw the covered men standing next to a tree. It creaked and fell, blocking the way. You yelled out a "Watch out!" just a moment too late, when Micah was drastically changing the course to drive through the river. You had your guns ready, when an explosion rocked the coach so strongly, you caught a glimpse of Arthur and Micah flying through the air, before you heard the splash of water.

"You okay?", you screamed after them, jumping off your horse to take cover behind a rock. It didn't take long until your eyes caught the first hooded men and you shot them down. There was no answer from the men, who by that time had already got their wits together and also took cover.

"They are goddamn O'Driscolls!", you heard Micah's exclamation.

"I can see that!", Arthur yelled back, only turning his head for a split second to check if you were still there.

When you had cleared one side of the river, you sprinted towards the rock Arthur and Micah hid behind. It was the nearest cover to get closer to the other side. Arthur halted to look at your two pistols. They were special, he could tell. Beautifully polished and with expensive looking carvings. Great. Another Bell who is obsessed with their guns, he thought. Seems to run in the family.

"You need a rifle?", Arthur asked, before he aimed and fired two shots at an enemy running towards you. The man fell to the ground, his blood staining the stream reddish.

"How considerate, but not my style", you answered quickly, before you ran towards another rock. Arthur was confused; you didn't even ask for cover, though he and Micah provided it nevertheless.

When the last O'Driscoll was shot off an approaching wagon, Micah yelled a victorious: "That'll show them!" Arthur complained: "Why is it every job I do with you ends in a pile of dead bodies?"

"Since when did you have a problem killing O'Driscolls?", your eyes followed Micah's sneer. He had a point. And yet, the river being full with dead bodies, some of them floating away slowly, others only staining the water around them. You couldn’t deny the eerie look of it.

"Let's see if this was worth it", Arthur sighed and with Micah's help, pulled out the lockbox. You walked next to the men.

"All I see is you, my dear sister, and me; a river full of dead O'Driscolls and a full lockbox", Micah stated. You could have done without this Arthur and by his expression when Micah mentioned his dear sister, he could also have done without you.

The lockbox was broken open and a pile of money laughed into your faces. "Nice", you mumbled and were about to grab some, but Arthur was quicker.

Micah chuckled: "Now what's the cut here?"

"It's good", Arthur answered, swiftly splitting it three ways and putting a stack into yours and Micah's hand.

"Just make sure the gang gets its share", Arthur glared at you.

You rolled your eyes. You had forgotten that running with a gang meant sharing your takes. This was inconvenient.

"What the hell?", a voice said behind you. The three of you turned around, only to see a traveler mounted on a horse. It was obvious how it looked. A river full of dead bodies and three people splitting money. A witness.

"Eh - I'll go catch-", Arthur started, heading to his horse. But before he had even mounted, two shots pierced through the air and the man fell off his horse, which ran off, startled. Arthur saw you, aiming one of your guns, giving a shrug and an innocent smile: "Faster that way."

Micah laughed: "Told ya, Morgan. The gang's in for a treat with her."

But Arthur didn't look amused at all. He walked towards you with a grim face: "We could have just threatened him. He didn't need to die-"

"You soft or something?", you asked disgustedly.

"Listen-"

"Faster that way", you shrugged and mounted your stead.

When you rode off with Micah, Arthur couldn't believe that he now had to deal with another one of Micah’s sort  back at camp. But one thing he knew for sure, he didn't like you at all.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

next chapter HERE! I figure I'll offer a tag list, so let me know if you wanna be tagged as soon as the next chapter will be posted :)

thank you to @little-honeypie who already knows where this series is going because they had to read every stupid idea I had for this

[glystenangel]

Kissing in the Dark

SoftDom!Choso x Afab!Reader (Modern AU)

tags/warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, everyone's 21+ in this, alcohol and substance use, praise kink, riding, unprotected sex, lotttttts of kissing, dirty talk, swearing, Choso calls you your highness but sarcastically and pretty girl but not sarcastically, friends to lovers type beat

summary: you go to choso's house party and drunkenly realize that you two make good friends, but have better sex

~4k

thanks for reading and enjoy <3

“Oh my god, she’s finally here!” Nobara engulfed you in a hug as soon as she answered the door. 

She smelled of booze and floral shampoo, and you could see that the living room behind her had been loosely decorated with colorful garlands and most of the lights had been switched off. Flashing lights cut through the dimness and music with heavy bass reverberated in your chest, it was so loud you had to almost shout into Nobara’s ear. 

“Finally? Yuji said to come around 9 and it’s only 10.” You laughed, squeezing her back.

“What? We’ve been drinking since I got off work at 8.”

“That’s because you just barged in without warning and waving around a bottle of vodka. We were barely set up.” Yuji elbowed her aside, “You’re still like an hour late though, what happened?”

“I’m not gonna lie, I took a nap and lost track of time.” You apologized, trying to subtly peek over his shoulder.

He gave you a knowing stare, “You looking for Choso?”

“No.” The too fast answer made Yuji and Nobara cackle.

“Don’t be like that.” Nobara pinched your cheek, “He’s been asking if you were coming too.”

“Thanks for letting me know, now I can give him shit for it.” You grinned as you imagined the way he would probably roll his eyes and scoff at your teasing, but pull you into a hug all the same.

“I’m surprised he didn’t text you.” Yuji rubbed his chin, “Probably chickened out.”

“You two are so bad, one of you needs to make a move already.” Nobara shook her head, draining the last of her drink.

“Maybe after a few drinks I’ll feel up for it.” You shrugged, part of you liked the cat and mouse game you two had been playing ever since Nobara had invited you to Yuji’s birthday party half a year ago. 

“He’s in the kitchen making drinks. Come on, we gotta reup.” Yuji waved you in before closing the door.

As they lead you through the house, you high fived and briefly chatted with the other guests at the party. It was a healthy mix of Choso and Yuji’s friends, along with some people you didn’t recognize and assumed were friends with the pair’s other brothers. It was a relatively huge house for just Choso, Kechizu, Eso, and Yuji, so they liked to throw parties every so often on the weekends. At first, you had been intimidated by Choso’s striking attractiveness and bored attitude, so you had totally avoided him after your initial introduction. Then, some guy named Mahito had smacked your ass on your way out of the bathroom and Choso had immediately gotten up from his seat to knock him out cold with a single punch. Once Eso and Kechizu had carried his limp form out of the house, you decided that the least you could do was ice Choso’s hand with a bag of peas from the fridge and profusely thank him.

“You’re good, I just hate assholes like that.” Choso had casually shrugged, and then he gently added, “Let me know if anyone ever bothers you again. I got you.”

“You like playing bodyguard?” You had teased, though you could feel yourself blushing at his unexpected protectiveness.

He had then sent you a grin that made your heart skip a beat. 

“Something like that.”

After that, you had begun to harbor the biggest crush on him. It didn’t help that you had immediately clicked as you conversed over the thawing bag of peas. You definitely developed a soft spot for each other, and you texted him whenever you weren’t at the house or joining the rest of the friend group at a concert or some other fun outing. Nobara was right in that you two had been dancing around the subject of becoming more than friends for a while now. Even in the quiet moments when you two were alone, neither of you ever seemed ready to cross that line.

You finally made it to the kitchen where Megumi and Choso were making small talk as they shared a bowl next to a sizable spread of alcohol, sodas, and juices on the kitchen counter. Your breath caught in your throat from seeing Choso’s tall frame leaned against the stove, his eyelashes fanning down as he inhaled from a glass pipe. His hair was neatly tied up in its signature spiky bundles, and flickers of bright color moved over his handsome face, revealing the dark mark across his nose bridge and the concentrated scrunch of his defined eyebrows as he smoked. Even in the low light, the silver in his ear piercings and the multitude of rings around his fingers gleamed. When he let out an exhale of hazy white vapor, you didn’t miss the way his jaw tensed or how his broad shoulders rolled back afterwards. He was always the perfect picture of composure and strength, with his muscular build and calm disposition. Even in just a grey t-shirt and black distressed jeans you could see how defined his towering figure was, the veins in his arms pronounced and the lean shapes of his muscles vaguely outlined in the fabric.

“Hey.” Megumi waved when he noticed you three entering the kitchen, and you smiled at him.

“Hey guys!”

Choso snapped his head up, passing off the bowl to Megumi and automatically opening his arms to you.

“You made it.”

“Yeah, I heard you were waiting on me. Didn’t wanna break your heart, so I decided to show up.” You looked up at him as he hugged you, beaming when he chuckled and rolled his eyes before meeting your gaze. 

“Well, thank you for gracing us with your presence, your highness.”

You loved making eye contact with him, something about the depth in his dark eyes made you feel so safe and created a flood of warmth in your chest.

“And don’t worry, I’d let you break my heart any day.” Choso claimed, crouching down so that his mouth was right by your ear. The admission made your throat go dry.

Then he laughed, pinching your nose and making you let out a confused and irritated, ‘hey!’ before he let you go.

“What do you wanna drink?” He asked, gesturing at the arsenal of liquor available and keeping his eyes on your contemplative face.

“Let’s take a shot!” Nobara yelled, sitting herself onto the white tile of the counter and tugging Megumi and Yuji’s shoulders to her sides.

“Make that two for me, I need to catch up.” You volunteered, holding up a peace sign.

“Atta girl!” Nobara sent you a wink as Choso went over to the stack of empty cups and distributed the shots.

“What is it?” Megumi cringed as he sniffed at his red plastic cup.

“Tequila.” Choso deadpanned, sticking a lime wedge into the rim and jutting his chin towards Megumi’s hand, “Here’s the salt.”

Choso poured a tiny pile of salt onto the back of everyone’s hands and you all clinked cups before Yuji counted down.

“Cheers!” ________________

Eventually, you ended up as thoroughly sloshed as everyone else, and you collapsed on the couch next to Choso after dancing for what felt like hours. Yuji, Nobara, and surprisingly Megumi were still at it. The trio were honestly good dancers, and you clapped while watching them groove to the beats until you sank into your seat. 

“Hey.” Choso greeted, a small smile on his face.

“Hi.” You returned with an airy wave, curling onto your side to face him as he rested his elbows over his knees.

“You look happy.” He noted, taking a few gulps from the water bottle he nursed in his hands. 

He offered it to you once he had his fill, and you gratefully drank some sips. 

“I always am when I’m with all of you.” You said simply, feeling the water soothe the edges of your brain that fizzed with alcohol.

You handed the bottle back, and Choso finished it with a sigh.

“You’re gonna give me a toothache.” He gave you a sidelong glance, though his eyes crinkled at the sentiment.

“What? I can’t love my friends?” You punched his arm, and he feigned injury before catching your wrist.

“Sorry, your highness. I didn’t mean to offend.”

“Better not.”

“Or what?” He tilted his head, leaning in close and automatically drawing your eyes to the enticing curve of his cupid’s bow. You could smell the clean scent of his cologne on his skin, and you wondered if he knew how much more beautiful his eyes were up close.

A loud crash from the kitchen startled you from your thoughts, and you could hear a group of guys chanting, “Chug it! Chug it!” 

More chants and loud whistles pierced the air as you assumed more alcohol had been successfully guzzled down by one of the partygoers.

“It’s a little loud out here, you wanna hang out in my room?” Choso drew back, gesturing in the general direction of his room.

“Sure!” You breezily replied, following him as he got up.

You ran your hand along the wall as you went through the dark hallway of the house, playing with the shadows that projected on the walls as figures passed by or danced across the living room. You couldn’t wait to be able to sit down again. You often nestled yourself into Choso’s bed when hanging out with him, so you were sure he wouldn’t mind if you snuggled yourself into the blankets once more.

“Finally.” Choso deftly clicked the door open, swinging it aside and sitting on the edge of the bed with his legs spread wide. He yawned into his hands before raking them through the loose hairs that framed his face.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his perpetual tiredness as you shut the door, not even bothering to turn on the lights and coming to rest in the space between his legs before intertwining your arms around his neck. If you weren’t still mildly drunk, the nonchalant way he brought his hand up to rub at your forearm would have made you a stuttering mess.

“How are you feeling?” You tipped your head to the side, looking down at him serenely.

He nodded as he peered up at you, his words slightly slurring at the ends.

“Good. Really good, except that-” He abruptly broke himself off, letting out an amused scoff, “Nevermind. I’m good.”

Your eyebrows immediately knitted together with concern, “What? No, what’s wrong?”

He focused on the ground in silence for a moment and then reluctantly swept his gaze back up to you, “Nothing, it’s just that…”

The muffled music from the living room beat into the walls, but Choso’s pause made the pounding of your heart the only thing you could hear. That is, until he considered you with a defeated smile and spoke again.

“I really want to kiss you right now.”

At first, you thought you had misheard, but he continued talking and his next statement erased any remaining doubt within you. 

“I think about kissing you a lot, actually.” He confessed, breath heavy and his hand delicately stroking past your elbow.

The touch caused a shiver to run through you, but you grounded yourself enough to find your voice, “Yeah? How often?” 

“More than I’d care to admit.” The skin underneath the mark on his nose tinted pink, and you found the need to make him stay in such an overwhelmed and embarrassed state irresistible.

“That’s a shame, I like hearing you. I like words.” You crossed your arms behind his neck, and his hands readily moved to wrap around your waist.

He bit at his lip for a minute, trying to steer his line of sight anywhere else instead of at you. His sudden shyness made your heart nearly burst with affection.

“Do you like words too?”

Choso briefly met your eyes, and you could see how blown out his pupils were from just your bodies being pressed so closely together.

He swallowed, and then allowed a single nod of his head.

“Every time I see you I want to kiss you.” You murmured, kissing his cheek to prove your point.

He let out a subdued groan, tightening his hold on you and pulling you closer.

“And kiss you and kiss you and kiss you and fucking kiss you.” You went on, little whines escaping your lips as you trailed kisses along his neck and jawline until his hands trembled.

“God, you’re something else.” His hands slid under your shirt, gripping at your bare skin.

The heat of his motions made you close your eyes, and you felt his hand reach up to grasp the back of your neck and tug you into a fervent kiss.

When your lips touched, the sheer bliss was instant. Every hungry tilt of his head only served to deepen the kiss and your feelings towards him, and the electrifying movement of your mouths made your heart beat excitedly. Each kiss seemed to serve as his replacement for air, and the way Choso roughly groped at your pliant body made you slick with arousal. 

Eventually, you both had to break apart to take deep breaths. Your lips were only centimeters apart, though Choso seemed to find that absolutely unacceptable.

“No. Not allowed, sorry.” He ground out, exasperatedly kissing at the corner of your mouth and digging his fingers into your sides.

“Oh? I’m not allowed?” You teased in between more needy and breathless kisses.

“Nope.” Another peck was stolen from your tender lips, and then he stilled as he intently looked into your eyes.

“Unless, you really want to stop…do you want to stop?”

The slight panic and concern in his eyes was so endearing that you gathered the collar of his shirt towards you, bringing your lips together.

“No. Don���t stop.” You begged in a hushed tone, and you could feel the smile on his lips.

You made quick work of each other’s clothing, the alcohol and adrenaline of your confessions fueling the reckless abandonment of every piece of clothing until you were both finally skin to skin. You straddled Choso’s lap, shuddering when the tip of his eager cock brushed against your sensitive clit. When you tried to push down Choso’s chest to sit properly, he sat back up and refused to budge.

“No. Too far.” He asserted, apparently unable to cope with you being outside of kissing distance.

“I’m right here, I promise.” You reassured with a laugh, giving him a peck on the lips as you hovered over his cock.

You nervously studied his boner beneath you, the entire length was bulky and pearlescent droplets of precum adorned the engorged tip as it lightly grazed his lower abs. You could see the blood vessels along the sides pulsating from the feverish anticipation of entering your all too willing pussy. 

“Ready?” His question brought you out of your stupor, and you gingerly nodded.

“Please, Choso.”

He firmly placed his hands at your waist, guiding his rigid cock into your slippery entrance. Choso spread apart your folds with little effort, deliberately slowing to give you enough time to adjust and comfortably engulf every girthy inch. The crescent shapes of your nails stung into his shoulders, and you placed your knees against the bed for leverage, mewling at the delicious swell of your walls from his massive size. You lewdly dripped around the base of his cock, and he let out a guttural swear at your drenched state.

“Goddamn.” He carefully swivelled his hips, observing your soaked pussy slicken further and smirking at the whimper that you released from the movement.

“You wanna use my cock to cum? Go ahead.” Choso muttered against your lips, easily heaving your hips up until you absorbed the cue and began bouncing on the veiny ridges of his cock with enthusiasm.

He kept his hands at the arch of your back, depositing heated kisses against your lips as you braced yourself on his shoulders and fucked yourself exactly how you wanted. The fat head of his cock rubbed at your most delectable spots, and you found yourself coming to the edge of orgasm over and over again. Choso attentively caught every filthy sound that you emitted from riding his cock, devouring the pathetic moans and stretching you out until tears dampened your eyelashes.

The pleasure was so dominating that you were no longer able to return his kisses, lustful pants escaping your lips and animalistic instinct taking over the forefront of your mind. Choso didn’t seem to mind, gliding his lips over your neck instead and checking the shifts in your facial expression with an obsessive degree of care. The rocking of your hips had him biting down hard on his jaw, and you were captivated by the obscene whimpers he choked out. You rutted into him with an excited hunger, entering a daze when he hotly moaned against your throat and swore to every God that you felt absolutely amazing.

Choso was known to be a man of few words, so when he started lowly offering more encouragement in your ear you could hardly take it.

“Such a pretty girl. Love how pretty you look sitting on my cock like that.” He whispered, watching you clench around him and the glistening sheen of your precum coating his hardened cock.

You incoherently mumbled a reply, all but lost in the heady sensations and his praise.

“Gonna cum if you keep this up, fuck. So, so good. Squeezing me just right.” Choso let out a strained breath when you constricted around him, and you felt him taking control of your pace. He snapped his hips up to meet yours with solid smacks, and you could feel the slap of his balls hitting right up against where precum was seeping out of the bottom of your slit, incessant whimpers and pleads left you from every desperate rush of his cock.

“How did I get so lucky, hm? God, you are so pretty.” At this point, you were completely mindless and obediently taking every thrust, letting him wildly ram into you and clamping around his incredible thickness. You gasped with delight at his relentless pounding, twitching with wanton pleasure. The swollen head of his cock visibly prodded at your stomach, and your mouth filled with drool as the rest of his sturdy length followed to stroke through your saturated pussy. It felt so good that your toes were curling and your eyes sluggishly glazed over with exhilaration. Of course, Choso noticed.

“Oh, you liked that, pretty girl? Like when I fuck you deep in your pussy like that? I like it too. I love it.” He divulged against your parted lips, so turned on by how dumb you had become from his touch that he had to swallow thickly between phrases.

You dribbled without shame around his unwieldy cock, the wet sounds of your fucking only making it harder for you to not lose control.

“Are you close?” Choso’s voice was soft, but you could hear it edged with pride and a hint of mocking.

You managed to faintly nod, placing your hands over his as they continued directing messy yet powerful slams into your quivering pussy. You weren’t going to last much longer at this rate. Chills pricked into your skin, and you squirmed at the intoxicating gratification forming in your core. 

“Good, good. Keep going. I want to see the pretty look on your face when you cum.” He gave you a loving peck behind your ear and then touched his forehead to yours.

When he saw your mouth drop open and your eyebrows pinch together in ecstasy, he maintained his pace until you were frantically jerking around in his lap, overloading from the pleasure tearing through your body and spurting warm streaks of cum onto his waiting cock.

Choso grabbed your throat to crush your lips against his, agitatedly lifting you up and down his dick until you sensed his cum mesh with yours and squish into your satisfied cunt. He finally settled you down to rest on top of his thighs, and you ground steady circles into his hips, relishing the addictive pulse of your orgasm racing through your system.

You clutched at the back of his neck, slotting your tongue into his mouth and seeing sparks whenever his tongue slid over yours. His hands molded around your curves, and when he fell back onto the bed he dragged you down with him.

Though you could feel your climax fading, content hums left you and the joyful pitterpat of your heart from being in Choso’s secure embrace only increased.

When Choso pulled away, the pure adoration in your eyes was apparent as he carefully held your face in his hands. His breathing slowed as he regarded you with the same happiness in his eyes.

“Like what you see?” You cheekily inquired, placing your hands on his muscular chest.

“Sorry, what? I didn’t catch that.” An exhausted smile spread across his face, and he blinked distractedly.

You let out a small laugh, “Choso, you alright?”

“Yeah, I just love you.”

The unexpected declaration hit your heart with precision, and you instantly melted at his honesty.

"Fuck." You timidly buried your head in his chest before raising your head to peek at his handsome visage, “I love you too.”

He chuckled warmly, patting your head and leaning forward to gift an affectionate kiss to your forehead.

“Thank you.” ________________

The next morning you woke up cuddled within Choso’s strong arms and feeling significantly sore.

Before you could register more of your aches, you detected Choso at your back as he nuzzled his chin into the space between your neck and shoulder.

“Good morning, did my girlfriend sleep well?”

You quickly turned to look at him, a beam lighting up your face, “Girlfriend?”

“Yeah. Girlfriend.” He reiterated, reflecting your smile.

You practically pounced on him with an ecstatic kiss, and last night’s events almost repeated themselves, only to be rudely interrupted by erratic knocks at his door.

“Hey!” Nobara yelled out your name authoritatively, adding more impatient knocks and rattling the doorknob for good measure, “We know you’re in there!”

“Yeah! We know you’re in there!” Yuji joined in, his own knuckles rapping against the wood.

The blood drained from your face and you burrowed back into Choso’s arms, making his shoulders shake with poorly contained laughter.

“I’m sorry, I told them to leave you two alone!” Megumi shouted halfheartedly.

“We just wanna know who made the first move! I’ve got $20 on the line here!” Yuji pleaded.

“Go away!” You retorted, attempting to fix your hair.

Choso moved to help you, trying to comb through the mussed locks with his fingers.

“See! I told you! She really is in there, ha!” Nobara bragged, and you slapped a hand over your mouth before glimpsing up at Choso.

“Choso, do something!”

He cupped a palm over the side of his mouth and pointed it towards his bedroom door, “Guys, step away from the door or I’ll make you listen to us fuck!”

“Choso!” You squeaked, but he only donned a shiteating grin when you made a weak attempt to slap him.

“Oh my god!” Yuji and Nobara screamed, and you could practically see Megumi’s worn out face when he sighed.

“I’m leaving.” 

“What? Embarrassed?” Choso asked, hauling you closer.

“Yes! Well, no- But you can’t just say that to them!”

“I’m sorry, your highness. Forgive me.” He tried to sound sincere, but you rolled your eyes at the obvious guiltlessness in his smug expression.

“Only if you let me steal one of your hoodies and make me a breakfast burrito.” You raised up your hand in a mock handshake, and he readily grasped it.

“Done.” He bowed his head, bestowing a kiss onto the back of your hand.

“Can I get one too, bro?” Yuji requested from the other side of the doorway.

“Wait, me too!” Nobara chimed in.

“Both of you, fuck off!” ________________

End Notes:

Me 🤝 The failed one night stand trope with Choso

This is for my fellow party girl Chosoheads✊😤

thanks for reading<3

((((((if you liked it, check out my other Choso oneshot here​​😚)))))

[gretagerwigsmuse]

I clearly can't get over Rooster and Smart Aleck. The more detail added to this couple with people chiming in the more invested I am in them. I'm just imagining the snarky behavior especially when Rooster is on her bad side, smart aleck reminding him she's just with him for his body and the moment that six pack goes, she's stepping down to a younger model so he better enjoy this pussy while he has it and that he can't stay eye candy forever. All he takes away from that is that she thinks he's hot, and he's over the moon

oh she would make SO MUCH fun of him! and like he’s older than her, but not like excessively older than her? like 8 years i think i made it? but she’d tease him about his knees cracking when he goes down on her or how his hair is greying at the temples (which she finds hot like don’t lie girl)

“awwww sweetheart, you think i’m pretty hot?”

“well it’s not your sparkling personality that’s kept me around for so long.” you both smile at each other, a little silly, and you even give him a quick kiss on the lips before changing your tone, “but lately i’ve been thinking i might have to swap you out for a younger model, bubs. this daddy thing is only gonna keep doing it for me for so long…”

he laughs but then gets serious and his voice gets thick “no, you won’t.”

“i won’t?” you look amused and lean closer to him on the couch, eventually straddling him

“no - you think someone else - someone younger’s gonna fuck you as dumb as i do? fill you up as good as i do? you think they’ll be edging you so much you’re crying - begging for them to finally fuck you? barely making out your words? like the dumb slut you are?”

you swallow thickly, knowing you’re about two seconds away from jumping him. and bradley, the little shit, knows he’s got you right where he wants you and squeezes your hips, drawing a gasp out of you

“you think this younger model of yours is going to be able to do that for you? hmmm?”

you’re parched suddenly. it’s ten degrees hotter in the living room and you’re just straddling your husband. your husband of seven years who can still reduce you to a bumbling, babbling mess with some well picked words - like the dumb slut you are.

“i uhh - i don’t know. i was just -”

bradley grids you down on his lap so you can feel just how badly your husband, your older model husband, wants you. how much he’d fill you up

“- he’d finish inside you so quickly you’d barely even feel it, you know those younger models, always so quick - so fast”

and then he clicks his tongue and smiles wolfishly. “but what do i know, sweetheart? i’m old, sometimes i just gotta go slow,” he emphasizes the last three words as his hand inches up your thigh and slips underneath your soaking wet panties

the two of you don’t even make it upstairs that night and have to get the couch dry cleaned before the dinner party you’re hosting on friday

🫣 ANYWAY HAVE A GOOD NIGHT

[suhlogic]

where angels fear to tread (j.suh x fem!reader)

drag racer!johnny x fem!reader 

genre: fluff, smut

(text is written in lowercase)

warnings: dom/sub themes, corruption kink, size kink, age gap (johnny is older by 8 years), breeding kink, choking kink, dacryphilia, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), slight possessive themes

word count: 1,268

before him, all she knew was a life at home and in school. sure, the occasional hangouts with friends occurred but never the wild parties where people get blackout drunk and trashed. y/n was the type of girl who was closed off, until she met johnny. their story was a typical good girl meets bad boy plot— or in johnny's case, "bad boy." despite his soft, gentle, and joyful attitude when he's with friends and of course, y/n. however, his tall, broad, sculpted, and toned build tends to rub people off the wrong way. sure, he's also got tattoos across his arm, chest, and a star one on his hip (which he got because it reminds him of how she shines). but johnny never fails to show off his love languages towards you even on the race track before and after finishing a race. 

it's been his tradition with y/n to always kiss her before and after he wins a race since she’s his "lucky charm" and she loves it...y/n revels in every second of having everyone look at her and  johnny and have everyone swoon over them but she wouldn't let johnny know that. but he also loves having y/n all to himself—which led her to this moment...late in the night at his place, all spread out and wet for him...just stripped down naked, cuffed to the bed while he's still in his leather pants, and platform boots from earlier. his racer jacket discarded on the bedroom floor along with her skirt and bralette. 

"johnny...please..."  y/n whined out, desperately tugging her cuffed hands against the bedposts as she writhes in heat.  he loves seeing her submissive and so pliant for him, and he cannot help but smirk. johnny hovers on top of her and leans down to whisper in her ear, "maybe if you weren't being such a pretty little whore flirting with daddy's friends i'd let you cum." he knew he was driving her insane. johnny took off his boots and unbuttoned his pants, leaving him in his black boxers that were fitted and it didn't help that y/n saw her boyfriend's huge dick straining really hard against the material. he makes his way between her legs and leaves kisses on the inside of her leg while caressing the other one. not someone to avoid eye contact, johnny made sure that you looked at him as he gazed at her. eyes filled with lust and love, he left hickeys on the inside of her thighs, switching between them as his hands reached for her boobs fondling with them.  johnny lifts his head up, on top of y/n once again, catching his breath— she took this as an opportunity to slip her tongue inside his mouth but he just smirked at y/n's attempt to dominate him.  he knew how she was always in a haze melting for him whenever he touched her like this. "my angel's just so desperate isn't she?" he cooed teasingly as y/n just whined and nodded as he pulled away from the kiss.

"daddy, please i want your cock inside me," she moaned.  "gotta stretch you out with my fingers okay hmm? i know you can take it all baby..." he said, inserting his long, thick digits inside of her sopping wet pussy dripping with slick from arousal and being edged. johnny thrusted two fingers inside as he rubbed her clit with his thumb, she moaned at how skilled he is at fingerfucking her. once again, he locked lips with her passionately as y/n felt herself cumming. "i'm close...please...johnny," she whined. 

"let go for me, princess" he whispered as he nibbled on the shell of her ear to send her to the edge.  johnny pulled his fingers out of her pussy, coated with her slick and juices. he sucked on them before leaning in to kiss y/n. "you always taste so sweet for me, angel." he said. johnny then removed the handcuffs and let her hands free and kissed both her wrists. "baby, you did so well for daddy..." he said, laying her down gently on his pillow. she looked so divine and angelic in his eyes all laid and fucked out, eyes filled with lust and love for him and him only. johnny did not hesitate to lean down and let his huge, thick, and long hard cock spring free from the confines of his boxers.  as her chest was heaving in desperation, she sat up and jerked him off with pretty doe eyes looking up at him. johnny moaned at how her small and warm hands looked even tinier with his cock in them being jerked off to his climax. "angel, don't tease daddy," he said in between hisses as he put her hair up into a makeshift ponytail. "but i want you to feel good, please daddy..." she said, muffled as she took johnny in her mouth deepthroating him. she massaged his balls as she took all of him deeper, tears brimming her eyes from gagging and choking on his cock.

 johnny reached his peak but immediately removed y/n from his member, she whined at the loss as he pulled her up to place a kiss on her lips before flipping y/n on her back. "baby, i wanna cum inside you..." he let out, lips pink and plump yet a little swollen from all the kissing. johnny slowly inserted his dick, aching to cum inside his girlfriend's pussy. thrusting it in as she moaned softly at the stretch, he left hickeys on her neck and chest to distract her from the slight burn. "take it slow baby...i know you can take it..my good girl," he moaned in between thrusts. y/n could feel him hitting her cervix as she let out moans begging for more, urging him to go faster. "god...baby..you look so fucking small under me...so pretty, can you feel how big daddy is?" he let out between grunts as he pressed his hand down her stomach, his cock bulging out of it. "daddy...please...more...don't stop...i'm so close," she whined.  johnny could feel her tighten around his cock as his thrusts got sloppier and faster as he came inside her. both of them just held each other as his dick softened inside of her. chests heaving against one another, johnny left a kiss on her forehead before he pulled out and got up to get a  hand towel for both of them to wipe themselves with. 

 y/n still being in subspace, she sat upright and let johnny clean her up. "daddy...you're sooo sweet..and kind...so so gentle to me.." she dragged out. johnny knew his girlfriend was still drunk from pleasure, and she was always like this post-coitus too no matter how many times they've made love. "just wanna make my angel happy," he smiled at her, kissing her cheek as a lovesick smile was present on his face. johnny definitely hit the jackpot with y/n, having her was all that matters to him. now both all cleaned up, johnny had her cuddled up to his side. 

with nothing but the sheets underneath them, he was playing with her hair and stealing forehead kisses as her hand rubbed circles on his tattoos beautifully placed from his collarbone down to his bicep. both lovers fell asleep in the dead of night despite their passion and love for each other burning embers which made them so inseparable from the other. whispering sweet nothings and lulling the other to sleep, y/n dozed off laying on his chest and he smiled at how pretty she looked in his arms. she was really his only angel.

[ryuuka-balaen]

laying in bed bored brain has started rotating and prodding at a years old concept for a skirmish-scale miniature wargame I've been mentally moulding and never writing down which has been dubbed Delve.

bit o late night catbabbling ahead on that.

the concept of delve is something of a cross between an RPG and a wargame, inspired by an offhand comment someone made once that the two are different branches of the same family tree. played by 2-6 people each controlling 2-8 adventuring characters, those adventuring characters would each be built in the same way as an RPG character with the player choosing race, class, armour, and weapons for them to form their Adventuring Party, then throw them into a dungeon against the other players' parties of characters to compete over a goal such as classic deathmatch, capture the hill, escape with the loot, escape the city guard/jail, etc.

while the initial idea was to choose characters' races and classes to determine their traits and abilities, over the years I've become more and more fond of the idea of ttrpg systems which don't lock abilities by race of class and I think if I were ever to design a game properly and put it to paper I'd like it to reflect that, as such all character abilities and traits would be selected from a list of available bits and concepts like race or class would just be flavouring.

For traits and abilities, I'd figured that each character should have one that can be used once per game, once that can be used once per round, and two that are passive.

the general idea was that a character's weapon would have two stats for attack; speed and damage, and armour would have corresponding stats for defense; reflex/mobility and toughness. when making an attack you would roll your weapon speed against the enemy's reflexes, and the enemy would roll their armour's toughness against your weapon's damage. Ranged weaponry would have generally much higher damage stats and melee weapons would have much higher speed stats such that a light armoured character is tough to hit with a ranged weapon but easy to squish in melee, and vice versa

-this *is* mostly ignoring how combat and armour actually works, as arrows are not generally dodgeable in any universe and melee weapons are always just FAST regardless of size, but for the sake of Fantasy Pop Culture and Game Stats that's just how it's gotta be sometimes.-

Armour would have four weights; cloth, light, medium, heavy, and similarly weapons would be either melee or ranged as well as a weight category; light, medium, heavy, and superheavy.

Shields would be an additional armour option, coming in Small, Medium, and Large sizes, with each restricting the maximum weight of weapon the character can carry, and being not an option at all in combination with a Superheavy weight weapon.

Magic and spells would be selected as Trait/Ability options, some of which requiring the character wield a spellcasting catalyst which would prevent them from also holding a weapon of the Heavy or Superheavy categories.

Each weapon and activated Trait/Ability would have an Action Cost associated with it; characters would each have 3 Actions to use per turn, or 4 if they forgo half their movement, as well as being able to move an additional half their movement (running) for 2 Actions. Light weapons would cost 1 Action, allowing a character to use one after running, and Superheavy weapons would cost 4 to use, requiring that the character move half their movement in order to attack with it. Medium and Heavy weight weapons, accordingly, would incur costs of 2 or 3 Actions.

finally, just so that everyone's not all running just the same optimized character builds, each player would choose two Faction Abilities to use each game, one active and one passive, again from a list. Additionally, I would want to include a list of pre-generated factions, the Faction Abilities each would use, and four examples of pre-built common adventurer goons you might find in each.

most of that feels like utter jabbering nonsense to type out. questions and comments encrouraged. probably never going to actually write up stats to make the gamethoughts a reality so if anyone feels ~Inspired~ reading this and is good with numbers, be my guest. gobble up and re-use these weirdass concepts my dummy catbrain has sat on like a chicken egg for six years.

[starset21]

Disclaimer: I only own my original characters, I've done some research but there will likely be Navy/military inaccuracies, and I do not consent to the posting, translating, or publishing of my work to any 3rd party site, the only place it may be found is on tumblr and Wattpad under @.itswildflower

A/N: This story is heavily inspired by the hallmark movie of the same title and is very self-indulgent. I'm also trying a different format than I'm used to using so it may change in the future chapters. Hope everyone is having good winter holidays!

Looking for the other chapters? U.S.S. Christmas Masterlist 

Summary:  Kate and Jake take on New York City

Chapter 5: New York

“Oh! Look at this! Oh, I can't wait to see the rockettes and the the rockefeller Christmas tree, the decorations on fifth Avenue, but first, we gotta get New York pizza!” Elizabeth exclaimed.

“Okay, she's gonna wear me out. Now, the ship leaves at 8 P.M. on the dot. Don't be late,” Jackson reminded them.

“2000 hours. Roger that. I think the historical building is right up here,” Jake told Kate, taking her hand in his.

“Do you keep records of all the performances?” Kate asked the lady at the front desk.

“We sure do. The older ones haven't been transferred to the computer, though. We've had all kinds of personalities to perform for the troops. You said 1965?” she asked.

“Yes,” Jake nodded.

“The Polaris, right?” she asked again and Kate nodded.

“Do you see a Dorothy in there?” she asked.

“Oh! Here it is. It looks like Dorothy Milne. It lists her employment as a dance instructor,” the lady told them.

“Just like the journal says,” Kate whispered to Jake.

“She actually worked at the ovation dance studio right here in the city,” the lady told them.

“I could hug you right now,” Kate grinned and they headed out.

“We might just solve this Christmas mystery after all,” Jake told her, nudging her shoulder. 

“I can't believe it! The ovation dance studio is actually still around! Wonder if Jonah tracked her down there. I remember the last passage in his journal said…” 

"I saw Dorothy perform last night with the uso. She's breathtaking. It was like she was floating on air. I got to talk to her again after the show, and she's truly everything I imagined. Sweet, smart… But when I went to find her this morning, her brother said Dorothy left on the cargo plane. It's crazy, but I feel like I've known her forever. I have to find her after we dock in Norfolk."

“We might just solve this Christmas mystery after all,” Jake told her, nudging her shoulder as they headed into the dance studio. There were little ballerina’s dancing around the room.

“They are so sweet,” Kate couldn’t help commenting.

“Aren't they? Today's the dress rehearsal for our big Christmas show. Can I help you with something?” the instructor asked.

“Yes. Hi, I'm Kayleigh Wells of the Norfolk register newspaper. This is Lieutenant Seresin,” Kate introduced.

“Nice to meet you both. What's this about?” she asked.

“We're looking for a woman who might be a military spouse. Her name is Dorothy Milne. Apparently she worked here years ago,” Kate told her.

“Yes. Dorothy was my teacher as a girl. I eventually bought the studio from the owner,” she crossed her arms.

“Could you tell us more about her?” Kate asked.

“She, uh, moved to New York to be a rockette, but her dreams never quite panned out, so she worked here instead, and would sometimes perform for the troops with the USO,” the woman told them.

“Any idea where she was from?” Kate asked.

“Kansas City, I believe,” she told them.

“Do you have any idea if she was married to a pilot named Jonah?” Jake asked.

“I remember there was a pilot she met on an aircraft carrier. He came to find her after the ship docked. Surprised her with roses right here in the studio in the middle of class! But she had a boyfriend at the time who she said was planning to propose, so I'm not sure who she ended up with,” she told them.

“Any idea what Jonah’s last name is?” Kate asked.

“It was so long ago. After that Christmas, we were told Dorothy moved to California. But that's all I know. I'm sorry I couldn't be more help.”

“Thank you,” Kate gave her an appreciative smile.

“I think we could use a snack right now, have you ever had roasted chestnuts?” Kate asked Jake.

“No, actually,” Jake told her. Kate smiled and went up to a cart selling them.

“We'll take two,” she told the man and went to pull out some money.

“I got this,” Jake told her, handing the man money.

“Thank you. All right. Let's see what this is,” Jake said as they began their walk again.

“Mmm! Lot sweeter than I thought,” he told her after having one.

“Hmm. Kinda how I feel about you,” Kate teased.

“I'll take that as a compliment,” Jake laughed.

“So, have you ever been to New York before?” Kate asked him.

“When I was six my parents brought me here for Christmas,” he told her.

“Before the divorce?” she asked hesitantly.

“Yeah. It was our last Christmas as a family together,” he bit his lip and looked down.

“That's bittersweet.” Jake nodded.

“Yeah, but it was the best Christmas I ever had,” he looked at her.

“Well, I think it's nice that you have those memories. Whenever my dad would be home for Christmas, we'd always go to Picasso’s diner and we would get semi crispy bacon. It was kind of our thing. Semi crispy is the only way to go,” Kate told him.

“I know, right?” Jake asked and Kate laughed.

“That looks really familiar. New York model train museum annual Christmas show! I went there when I was here with my dad,” Jake pointed out.

“Yeah? Come on, you wanna go? It'd be fun!” Kate exclaimed.

“Uhh... I don't know…” he trailed off.

“Oh, come on! You said it yourself, best Christmas you ever had,” Kate taunted.

“All right, yeah. Let's do it,” Jake smiled.

“Okay. Perfect,” Kate smiles, taking his hand and pulling him along. 

“This really brings me back,” Jake says as they wander through the train exhibits. “You okay?” Kate asks.

“Yeah, it's just, uh… I remember my dad taught me how trains worked when we were here. And after the divorce, that's pretty much all we talked about trains, planes… Pretty much anything with a motor. You know, we never went too deep. Stiff upper lip, you know?”

Kate nodded. “My mom was the complete opposite. I think after my dad died she was just so heartbroken all she wanted to do was talk about him, but… I couldn't do it,” she told him.

“Why not?” he asked.

“It was too painful,” Kate shrugged.

“I'm sorry. He died from an accident, right?” Jake asked and Kate nodded.

“I was 16… The day everything changed,” she told him.

“My dad says he was a great man,” he told her.

“He was. And he loved us very, very much. So all the times he invited me to go on the Christmas tiger cruise, I should have,” Kate sighed.

“Well, I'm sure he understood. It's not easy being a Navy brat,” Jake tells her.

“Yeah, well, it's something I still regret to this day.”

“Look, don't beat yourself up over it. Believe me, I get it. All the moving around, the uncertainty… Our dads were gone for months at a time,” Jake told her, nudging her shoulder.

“Well, you're lucky yours is still around. You should cherish that,” Kate told him.

“I do. You know, he… He bought me this little red train…” Jake trailed off.

“Yeah?”

“At the gift shop here. Ahh. I drove that thing around on every surface of our house until the wheels fell off,” he told her.

“That's really sweet,” Kate smiled.

“I'll never forget that moment we picked it out together. Cost five dollars, but… Nothin' meant more to me than that train.”

Kate paused at one of the displays. “Do you still have it?” she asked.

“Got lost in one of the moves,” Jake shrugged.

“I'm sorry,” Kate apologized, she knew the feeling of losing something in a move fairly well.

“It's the memory that matters, right?” Jake asked. Kate nodded.

“Hey. Let's go check out the north pole train!” Jake exclaimed.

“You know what? I'm gonna get us some hot chocolate, but I'll meet you over there?” Kate asked.

“All right,” he smiled and headed over to the display. 

“This is flight 747 to JFK tower, comin' in for a landing,” a little boy is flying a toy plane around.

“Copy, flight 747. Proceed to runway one-zero-niner and wait for clearance. Psst!” Jake pretended like he was a tower operator.

“Psst! Copy,” the little boy responded.

“I brought Teddy here for the trains, but he's obsessed with flying,” the dad laughed.

“Smart kid. You know, Jake is actually a fighter pilot in the Navy,” Kate told them, walking up with two hot chocolates.

“Whoa,” the kid marveled.

“At your service,” Jake tipped his imaginary hat.

“Do you fly off aircraft carriers?” the boy asked.

“Sure do. But flying off the carrier is the easy part. Landing, that's the hard part,” Jake told him.

“That's so cool! I want to be a Navy pilot!” the kid exclaimed.

“Well, you certainly can if you put the work in. Here. This…” He pulls out a pair of wings that they give to the kids on the cruises from his pocket. “Is for you, eh?” he offered with a smile.

“Whoa! No take-backs?” the kid asked.

“No take-backs, buddy. Promise,” Jake smiled.

“You just made his Christmas. Thank you so much. Have a great holiday,” the dad told him.

“Merry Christmas,” Jake told them as they walked away.

“You know, you were really good with him. And did I just hear you say, "merry Christmas"?” Kate asked.

“Yeah, well, don't tell my shipmates,” Jake told her.

“Oh, no, they'd never believe me. Hey, we should probably go get something to eat, and I know a place that's gonna actually change the way you see Christmas forever,” Kate grinned.

“Mind games, huh?” Jake asked.

“It'll definitely mess with your brain. Come on,” Kate laughed and took his hand in hers. 

Christmas music played quietly in the background.

“Brain freeze!” Jake groaned.

“They don't call it the colossal Christmas cocoa for nothing,” Kate laughed.

“We don't mess around here. We take Christmas very seriously. Two burgers coming up,” the waitress told them.

“Thank you. I feel like I don't have a care in the world right now. Honestly, that's not happened very often,” she told Jake.

“That's how I feel when I'm flying my jet over the ocean, those moments when I'm at total peace. Until I realize I have to land on a ship that feels like it's the size of a postage stamp,” Jake laughed.

“Does that ever scare you?” Kate asked and Jake shook his head.

“I love every second of what I do. The adrenaline and the rush… I don't think I'm scared of anything,” he told her.

“Not even Christmas?”

Jake raised a brow. “Christmas? Why would I be scared of Christmas?” he asked.

“I'm just sayin', it… Kind of seems like you've been running away from it,” she told him.

“What do you mean?”

“Based on what you told me earlier, it seemed like maybe your parents got divorced shortly after your trip here,” she said simply.

“Yeah, well, after that, it was mostly mom and me at Christmas. Just wasn't the same without my family together. Just couldn't really see the magic in the holiday anymore,” Jake shrugged.

“I'm sorry.”

Jake waved her off.

“And I'm also sorry 'cause I totally judged you,” Kate apologized.

“It's okay. I know I can be a bit of a Christmas curmudgeon,” Jake nodded.

“A bit?” Kate teased.

“Mmhmm,” Jake laughed.

“Well, it's okay. If I wave my merry magic wand, maybe you'd think about embracing some new Christmas memories,” Kate tried.

“Hmm? Like what?” he asked.

“Like, you know, today, we… You made the little boy smile at the train show, right?” Jake hummed in response.

“He met his hero. And we saw the world's most adorable dance troupe, and I wasn't gonna say anything, but it appears that you actually took a bite of your candy cane,” Kate told him.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Jake hid the candy cane.

 “I haven't had this much fun in a long time,” he told her.

“Good!” Kate smiled.

“You're amazing.”

Kate tilted her head questioningly.

“The way you made me imagine our day like a living scrapbook. You really have a way with words,” Jake clarified.

“Well, I'm a writer. So…”

“You're much more than that,” Jake told her, and it felt like he was looking into her soul.

Her phone started buzzing and Kate smiled apologetically before reading the text messages.

“It's my mom. Oh, my gosh, we have to go. It's 7:30!” Jake’s eyes widened and then they were both collecting their jackets.

“Uh, sorry! Forget the burgers!” Kate called to the server.

“Sorry. Here you go! Merry Christmas,” Jake added, placing money down on the table.

“Yeah, merry Christmas! Sorry!” The two of them ran out.

“Taxi! Taxi!” Kate yelled and it only took a moment before one pulled up and they got in.

“Pier 90,” Jake told the driver.

“We're almost there,” Kate groaned as they got stuck in traffic with 10 minutes till the ship left.

“We're never gonna make it. Maybe we should run,” Jake suggested.

“Run?!”

“Yeah. We can do it. Come on!”

Jake was handing the driver money and climbing out of the taxi. He took Kate’s hand and they began running.

“Go, go, go, go!” he encouraged.

“You're crazy! Whoa! Excuse us! Sorry!” Kate yelled as they ran by people.

“It's this way! Hi, Santa! Oh, wait. Wait, wait, wait, wait,” Jake had to stop and put some bills in the santa’s bucket.

“Merry Christmas!” he exclaimed as they took off running again.

“You barely made it, Lieutenant,” one of the sailors greeted them as they climbed aboard the ship.

“I can't believe we just ran 15 blocks,” Kate panted, trying to catch her breath.

“I know,” Jake laughed.

“Thank you for today. You know, for all the memories. The new ones.”

Kate smiled.

“You're welcome, Jake.”

[here2bbtstrash]

your votes are in! part 2 survey results ✨

i asked, and y'all answered!!! 👀

as mentioned a few times before, the survey is not closed - i won't update it with new works moving forward, but i will keep an eye on it if anyone decides to run back and add votes! so please don't feel like it's too late, esp if you're new and still catching up on the porn (there is A LOT of porn. pls take your time and stay hydrated okay 😵‍💫)

but since it's been about a week, and new votes have slowed down, i thought it'd be fun to do a reveal of the top 10 results as things currently stand! sticking them below the cut - join me, won't you? 🍷

at #10, with 40 votes, we have... moving day! i was honestly surprised to see this one crack the top 10, but i should know better than to underestimate the yoongi hoes at this point. y'all love your delusional long-haired boyfie content, and who am i to deny you that??

at #9 (my lucky number 👀), with 42 votes, we have... it's sweet! shocked to see a fluff fic crack the top 10 honestly, but let's be real, the taehyung hoes are THIRSTY (anyone who follows jai already knows this 😂) - i promise i'll write more for y'all soon, and that the next one will actually feature smut!!!

at #8, with 43 votes, we have... park and ride! (and technically also its sequel, five minutes!) y'all really said give us a part three mother 😭 and jokes on you because i have an idea for a part three *and* a part four for these two. you'll never be free of them lmao!!

at #7, with 45 votes, we have... the spins! i'm happy to see this one here!! i love this couple and i've wanted to do a sequel for them for AGES, though i swear my idea for what i actually want to do changes every few months 😂 guess i gotta decide on one!!!

at #6, with 51 votes, we have... sunday! idk why i didn't expect this one to rank omg!! i don't feel like i write jin particularly well, and i especially thought that level of BDSM would be too much for some 🙈 but i have learned y'all are freaks who like crying during sex.... huh...... DULY NOTED 👀📝

halfway there, time for the big hitters! at #5, with 54 votes, we have... party on you! ahhhhh this one makes me happy to see 🥲 forever AMAZED and ECSTATIC that my most popular fic on this blog is a hoseok fic!!! i want to write a million billion more hobi things this year, and i will certainly see what i can do about circling back to these two cuties. at the very least there shall be more ass-eating in 2023!! 🎉🍑

at #4, with 58 votes, we have... deep end! joon hoes with TWO appearances on the board, we love to see it 👏 i loooove that y'all are down not only for period smut, but for some of the risks i took with using more flowery/poetic language in this one! i had so much fun trying something new, i'd love to revisit this couple and that writing style again!!

at #3, with 59 votes, we have... two in one! y'all. no. i'm shook. wig FLEW, wig in the STRATOSPHERE. say WHAT?!?!?! the first fic i ever posted on this blog, my most self-indulgent work (actually it might not be the Most lmfao but it's UP THERE) - i'm. NUMBER THREE?!?!??! okayokayokay 👀 i see y'all 👀 we're gonna have a verrrrry fun jihope month next month aren't we?!?! 😈

at #2, with 65 votes, we have... the shape of your body! oh man 🥺 i'm almost, like, emotional to see this one rank so high. this fic is so so personal and dear to me, and was a BIG leap for my writing in a lot of ways. the fact that the response has been so overwhelmingly positive, and that so many of y'all read all 24,000 words of that fic and said you want MORE. i can never put into words how much that means to me 🙇‍♀️ it's hard for me to think of a whole plot for a sequel - bc i wrote so damn much already 😂 but lemme see what i can do to at least cook up a drabble or two (if you have ideas, keep 'em in your back pocket for jihope month 👀)

and finally... at #1... with 70 votes... no one is surprised 😂 - it's drip! ahhhhh squirt god min yoongi. we meet again. i will never live this fic down lmfaoooo. and funny... doesn't he have a birthday coming up soon? i could've sworn... 👀💦💦💦

alright besties!!! i'd love to know your thoughts!!! any surprises? any you're happy to see?? anything that didn't make the list that you're about to get out the torches and pitchforks over??? i wanna hear it all, so drop me a comment or an ask and let me knoooow!! 🎤💜

(for me, it's babygirl missing out on the top 10 by two votes... but it's fine i'm fine... 😭)

also can i just say - look at y'all, getting ALL OF OT7 ON THE BOARD??? we fucking love to see it!!! equal opportunists on this blog! yaaaaaaas porn for everybody!!! 👏👏👏

[sunwarmed-ash]

Fic tag game!

tagged by my buddies @cuillere and @lizzy0305! thank you for this!!

How many works do you have on AO3?

93 😎

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

831,467 (holy fucking shit when did it get that long?!?!?! #ThatsWhatSheSaid

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Stranger Things, Detroit become human, the breakfast club, marvel/spiderverses, Ted lasso, House MD, Harry Potter

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Tony Stark: Billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, Daddy: (starker) 1074

I think I need help: (harringrove) 927

Call me Doctor: (Chase/House & Chase/House/Wilson 739

Rockabye Baby: (Wincest kinda??) 670

You know what they say about assuming. (steddiegrove) 645

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Every. Single. One. Comments are the lifeblood to my work. Its so intimidating to be posting to a empty void but y'alls comments give life to the achieve and are just as important to a WIPs development as anything I write on my own!

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Idk, I have ALOT of wips without endings/one shots. Probs the most angsty one I have in general is either The New Kid or Silence isn't Golden

wait wait wait, I found a dual suicide Wincest fic, that wins

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

uhhhhhhh this Thor/Bruce fic may be the fluffiest one I have haha

8. Do you get hate on fics?

HA! yeah, but oddly its just the ones with sex work in them. Who would have guessed 🙄🙄🙄🙄

9. Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Yes 😈😈😈 kink wise all over the place, from super vanilla to BDSM and anything else I can think of. Peoplewise LGBTQ and queer characters, canon or fanon, polycules. Trope wise, enemies to lovers is my fav, but I also love pining or tragic love 👌

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Yes!! not too many, but I've written a few. This one isn't crazy but it is the most developed of all the wips. It's a Supernatural/The Breakfast Club crossover called Supernatural activity at shermer high

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

a few times by a bot, im really really hoping it doesn't happen again but with AI about to fuck us all out of work, im a lil worried.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! two of my Starker fics were translated into Russian and on fic book but that website got torched a few years ago :( I think I also had a reader translate a TBC fic into Portuguese

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

Many! probably 20-30 at this point

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

not possible for me to choose. So here's my favs of the moment. Hankconvin800 or hankvin1700, steddiegrove, parksborn, steadyhands

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

get a few scotches in him and he'll hit on anything in a 5 mile radius.

its a cowritten work I worked on years ago and just, meh idk I dont really wanna go back to it haha

16. What are your writing strengths?

I've gotten compliments on my dialogue, dynamic character relationships, smut, and angst

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

proof reading and editing

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

i never trust google translate to do a good enough job so to avoid looking like a fool i dont do it. I should try though, expand my horizons. I'm learning Danish so maybe ill make a fic using that.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

all of them hold significant places in my heart. they are all pieces of me and I'm trying to learn to love all of me. And that's gotta start somewhere!

tagging all my mututals and anyone who wants to do it

@sweeteatercat @disdaidal @sweetasblack @writerwhowritesao3 @geekinglikeaboss @destroya-hargrove @kissoflightning @moviemuncherao3 @cuillere @late-to-the-party-81 @spaceofentropy @strangebrainrot @treeffles @heiko-goes-detroit

[brisling]

10 songs meme for @blotthis!! spotify convenience playlist sdlkfdsj this is all over the place i'm sorry

Juice, Lizzo true version of this list right now would just be this song 10x

Se Acabo (feat. Method Man) - Remix, The Beatnuts i loove the "se acabo" sample in this it's so smooth and fun

Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood, Nina Simone nina simone, my god. i am arriving at the party seventy years late & cornering people at the dessert table like, you gotta get ON this

She's the One, Bruce Springsteen i am arriving at the party forty years late--

Hot Mess, dodie a few months back a friend made me a playlist of pathetic love songs subtitled "songs that after you listen make you go "oof... buddy"" and "people being brave enough to say things they should be embarrassed of anyone hearing" it's great i haven't ported over to spotify because i'm lazy

Outdoor Miner, Wire 70s rock... two things: 1. song about a bug! 2. supposedly the guitarist hated it so much he would fully leave the stage mid-concert and come back when the rest of the band was done performing it. i can't find a source for this story outside of genius dot com but i'm repeating it because i like it

Cecilia and the Satellite, Andrew McMahon in the Wilderness "singalong pop for driving home across a long bridge over a lake into the city at 9pm in the summer when the sun hasn't set yet"

Perfect Tense, Fallulah enjoyed this album!

Rät, Penelope Scott talking to a friend about penelope scott's Sweet Hibscus Tea & he was like "oh i've only heard her extremely bitter 'wow you made an idiot out of me!' growing-up-gen-z-in-silicon-valley song". this is nightcore maybe???

Weary, Mal Blum this is unordered except i put the 8 minute song last. maybe the true version of this playlist would be juice 7 times and this song 3 times (equal volume of song). hey i just looked at this video page again is mal blum's real actual dad going around leaving youtube comments on people's mal blum videos lfdskjdlkfsks

[citrus-cactus]

I gotta ask now that you've beaten moral. Opinions on the professor?

Gotta say I just love his whole arc something about it resonates w me

Something about it never being too late to start healing

Ooh yeah, I’m a real fan of that takeaway!

(More beneath the cut)

I’ll be honest, the Professor as a plot device in the first half of the game (when he’s actually present in the party and not assumed dead) frustrated me occasionally. I’m a big fan of writers portraying characters as fleshed-out people, so I was actually fairly irked that he went unnamed for so long and that it seemed like his role (at first) was to be a rather one-dimensional adult/symbol of authority who dropped plot-relevant exposition on occasion. I understand now why his name was withheld (and why he had difficulty remembering past events in his life), but I think both of these things could have been handled differently—for example, the game referring to him as Professor Minase would have made way more sense (to me) than handing us Miyuki’s family name right from the start via the profile screen!

It kind of makes me wish Takuma’s POV wasn’t our primary insight into his character, because as a player, I really wanted to understand more about what he was going through during the game in his own words, and during those times when he requested to be left alone with his thoughts (the other human characters drop enough hints at what’s going on in their private lives, and it’s almost better that some of their specific issues are left a little open to interpretation). The fact that the Professor wasn’t willing (or wasn’t able?) to properly introduce himself to the kids until Part 8 seemed like a wild choice from a writing perspective, and for a time in Parts 5 and 6, he seemed extremely shady to me… but as it turns out, I was suspicious of the wrong Haru :3

THIS MOMENT TOOK WAY TOO LONG TO GET TO and didn’t feel like a satisfying reveal by the time it finally happened. Of course the other characters would be surprised at this revelation, but c’mon game, give your players (and Takuma!) some more credit that they might have figured it out before now :)

But ultimately, the fact that Akiharu wasn’t an ancillary character after all, but a “main” character in his own right, with a character arc, fated partner, and a role in battle was a really nice surprise, because it is so rare we get an adult/older human partnered with a digimon (02 and Savers/Data Squad being the only examples of this I can think of right now), much less one who needs to confront their own personal demons and reconcile with their digimon partner! And I really liked Gabumon/Garurumon as a character as well, because he also represents something we don’t see often in digimon partners: a digimon who feels utterly betrayed by his human at being separated/left behind.

They get an evo screen and everything! Yeah!!

I may have missed why Akiharu was so forgetful in the first place (was it the fall during the prologue? The fog? The OTHER fall? The guilt/trauma from his first time in the Digital World? How much of his life was spent researching the kemonogami, without fully knowing WHY he felt compelled to conduct it??)… but once the game was past him being a slow-drip reveal engine, I really enjoyed seeing him be able to address some of that trauma, reconcile with Gabumon, and succeed at finally rescuing Miyuki. And as much as the treatment of Akiharu pre-reveal frustrates me, there is a neat parallel between the Minase siblings in the first half of the game: they are both only half-there, half-complete, and something-something they are only able to become truly whole again when they are able to fully see their digimon partners, and their partners’ pain.

Once they were their “true” selves, I really enjoyed seeing Akiharu and Miyuki’s interactions. And their conversation that served as an epilogue to the moral route was so sweet! I am ALSO not over Miyuki having to adjust to life in the Real World 50 years later, and finally reuniting with her 50-years-older younger brother. And don’t even get me STARTED on Haru/Renamon. That reveal was done really well. 🥺

Including this picture because AAAAUGH <3

So yeah, when push comes to shove, I’m very normal about both the Minase siblings and their partner digimon (this is a lie, I am not normal about them at all afsgsffsfs) 👍

[billthedrake]

ORAL FIXATION (PART TWO)

(This is a story I wrote years ago and decided to rework and expand.)

The next Friday was an away game, and Dad didn't have the chance to suck me Saturday morning. I was feeling pretty horny. Jake was staying over at my place that Saturday evening, and while initially I didn't have an ulterior motive - it was just hanging out with my best friend - I did start to think that yeah, maybe Jake and I could stroke off together or something.

It was dinner time when I realized Dad was in a horny mood himself. He usually was cool as a cucumber around Mom, but that night he kept sneaking glances at me during dinner. I couldn't help but horn up at the table, which made me embarrassed, but I couldn't help it.

I half expected Dad to find a time to blow me, but I guess we couldn't get away for privacy, at least not safely.

Jake's mom dropped him off around 8, and we went up to my room to play video games. We played and shot the breeze for a while, but pretty quickly I realized that sex was on Jake's mind too.

"So, dude..." he started. "Too bad you got your dad at Carson's party." It was Jake's first time at Carson's key party, and we hadn't really had a chance to talk about the experience.

I shrugged. "It's cool. I've yet to find a guy who's as good as Dad is, actually." For some reason I blushed to say it.

Jake smirked and looked over. "Yeah, Walsh? How many have you had?"

"Three so far," I reflected back on previous parties. I'd had Mr. Ramirez once and Mr. Carson twice. I'd enjoyed both but Dad was hands-down better at sucking dick. "Dad's the best so far." I paused and gave a lewd grin. "Like toe-curling cum good."

"Fuck!" Jake hissed. "And I thought I was lucky getting Mr. Heller."

"How was he, bud?" I asked, intrigued. My mind occasionally drifted back to the intense look in Dave Heller's face as he eyed me up. There was something exciting and alluring about that kind of raw desire. But the blowjobs at home kept my mind off that lately.

Jake smiled. "Wild, man. The dude loves getting his mouth fucked."

"You mean...?" I asked. I knew a good bit about sex but was still pretty green when it came down to it.

My friend nodded. "Yeah, he told me to hold his head and just go for it. Dude likes it that way."

"Damn..." I hissed. Jake's dick was bigger than mine by an inch. "You're pretty big, too."

"That fucker took it. It was incredible. I've been trying to convince Dad to let me do it that way," Jake said.

My dick surged hard. It was already firm from the sex talk but imagining Mr. Gehring getting face fucked was a huge turn on. "Yeah? That's be so hot."

"You're just crushed out on my dad," Jake teased with a light punch to my muscular shoulder.

"Sorry, man," I said. "Your dad's hot as fuck. You gotta see that."

Jake gave a friendly smile. He just liked teasing me. "Oh yeah. Your dad, too." He lowered his voice in a conspiratorial tone and asked, "How often he go down on you, bud?"

"About three times a week," I smiled. "It'd probably be three times a day if we found the chance."

"Tell me about it," Jake said. "Dad and I have it up to once a day now. It's hot as fuck. Gotta be careful, though."

"Yeah," I said wistfully. I know had an intense desire to make it daily with Dad. "You know I envy Matt Carson sometimes... getting head as often as he wants." I felt guilty saying that. I loved my mom and didn't want her gone. But the horny, selfish part of me knew if she wasn't in the house, I'd be getting a lot more sex.

Jake grinned. "Probably not the only reason you're jealous of Carson. I've heard the dude's eleven inches."

"For real?" I asked.

Jake nodded. "I haven't measured it. But I wouldn't be surprised. I'd love to see Mr. Heller take that horse dick for sure," he laughed lewdly.

Just then we heard a knock at my door. I kind of pulled my video controller onto my lap to hide my boner, and noticed Jake did, too.

"Yeah?"

Dad poked his head in. He was wearing pyjamas but was bare chested, like he was getting ready for bed. I guess my father had a more normal build for a man his age, with a little padding around his middle, but he looked masculine and hot just then. "You fellas doing OK?" he asked.

Jake nodded. "Oh yeah. Mr. Walsh. Mike and I are just talking. We're not being too loud are we?" I had a pretty good idea Jake knew we weren't being too loud, but he was just doing the polite guest thing.

Dad shook his head. "No you guys are fine. Stay up as long as you like...." He kind of looked at me, then Jake with a quiet intensity, then added in a soft voice. "You know I thought I'd see if I could interest you in a blowjob before bed."

I wasn't surprised Dad asked, but this was a new thing. Him blowing another guy in front of me.

I heard my friend's voice beside me. "Not going to turn one of those down, Mr. Walsh," he said and as I turned toward him I saw him slide his shorts down over his semi-erect dick.

Dad's eyes widened and I saw a little smile form on his lips. Jake is bigger hung than me, and I didn't know for sure Dad liked his size, but I knew then he relished sucking a new cock in the little group that Mr. Carson ran.

His eyes had a quiet hunger as he looked to me. "What about you, Junior?"

"Oh yeah," I said, pushing my shorts down too. My dick was getting fully boned, just a few seconds behind Jake's erection.

Dad nodded and knelt down in front of Jake. "Guests first," he grinned, reaching out to run his fingers softly along Jake's hardon. My buddy grinned and kind of leaned back with expectation. With a complicit grin, he added, "Mrs. Walsh's sound asleep, so let's take our time."

And with that Dad leaned down and started licking Jake's dick.

Jake kind of grinned down, in a cocky look. I guess I'd never taken that attitude toward my father, but I could see why my friend did. Our dads blew us regularly, and it was easy to let that go to your head. I kind of scooted over so my leg was pressed next to Jake's. I was more muscular, but my friend had nice, toned legs with just a little bit of fur coming in.

Jake looked up at me with a smile. "Sorry to take shot gun, bro," he winked.

I laughed and watched as Dad started taking Jake's big dick into his mouth and actually go down on him.

"Oh fuck, dude...." my friend hissed, trying not to be too loud. "Suck my dick, Mr. Walsh..."

Dad responded to Jake's words with a deliberate movement of his head up and down. It was wild to see my professional, 45 year old father servicing Jake Gehring.

Jake hissed and spread his legs, then ran his hands along the back of Dad's neck in an encouraging gesture. As Dad went deeper on him, Jake grunted his appreciation.

"Mike, dude, you weren't lying... your dad's a pro."

I had a strange pride from the compliment. "I told you, man," I said.

I wasn't sure how Dad was going to react to us talking about him like that, but he seemed to work Jake more fervently. I watched my friend give into the pleasure, leaning his head back and shutting his eyes. He didn't push Dad down on his groin, but his hand was more firmly on Dad's head guiding him up and down.

Suddenly Jake's eyes popped open and he leaned back forward, looking down at Dad blowing him. "Oh, man... so good, Mr. Walsh.... yeah, just like that... you're gonna make me cum if you keep doing that.... yeah... oh God, oh Fuck, oh FUCK!"

Jake's face turned red and his body tensed, and I could actually hear the gulping sounds as my father drank my friend's cum.

"Oh fuck, dude..." he growled as Dad nursed the last dribbles from his pulsing dick.

I was feeling horny and impatient so I kind of pushed Jake to urge him to scoot over. My friend laughed and I saw Dad did, too, but I didn't care. I needed to get off right then.

Dad was still smirking as he took me into his mouth. Same technique, same skill as always, but having Jake there watching added another layer of hotness. Like, I was doubly aware that it was my own father giving me head.

My dad was extra worked up, too, and the extra suction was almost too much on my dick. Almost.

"Oh shit," I hissed, trying not to be loud. "Suck my dick, Dad. Show Jake how much you love blowing your own son." I blushed red saying that out loud, in front of Jake, but I loved how my friend and I now shared this experience.

I leaned back and watched Dad excitedly work my bone. I felt myself getting closer. "Come on, Dad, work that load out. Gonna be a big one tonight."

I could tell Jake was watching us, or maybe watching Dad in particular, and I knew he was surprised by how verbal I was.

"My dad's a hot fucking cocksucker," I now growled, riding the edge of orgasm. "I bet if I brought any of my buddies over you'd suck them too."

Every time I worried I was going too far with the sex talk Dad just put me at ease but getting visibly more worked up and doubling his efforts on my hardon.

But it was Jake's actions that tripped my wires. With a soft but urgent "Suck his dick, Mr. Walsh," my buddy placed his hand on the back of Dad's head and started pushing him deeper on to my bone.

I lost it, firing good and heavy into Dad's mouth, just as Jake's lips crashed against mine. It was a deep kiss, but quick, and when my friend pulled back he had a knowing smile on his face. Communicating that we both shared a lot, and we'd probably find out we shared more.

I think the rougher treatment kept Dad from focusing on his own orgasm while he sucked but he had a wild, turned on look on his face as he leaned up and started stroking feverishly.

"Oh fuck," he grunted and white hot seed flew all over me, dotting my shirt and crotch with his cum.

"Man, go for it, Mr. Walsh," Jeff exclaimed excitedly. I noticed he was still hard and was kind of massaging his dick as he watched.

Dad's chest heaved as he caught his breath. He looked at Jake and smiled. "I didn't think I could wait till I got you at one of Carson's parties, Jake. Hope your dad doesn't mind."

Jake shook his head. "I'm pretty sure he won't, Mr. Walsh. I shouldn't say who... but there's this teacher at school who sucks me off pretty regularly. Dad knows and is cool with it."

Dad nodded in acknowledgment then gave me a quick look. I knew what was on his mind. He was wondering if I got serviced by this teacher, or anyone else. I didn't say anything, but I knew Dad and I should talk about it, in case any opportunity ever came up.

"Well," he said, standing up and stuffing his spent cock back into the fly of his pyjamas. "That was amazing, boys. Thanks for that."

"You bet," I said, mimicking Jake's nonchalance. He'd already pulled his shorts on and picked up the control of the video game.

"Anytime Mr Walsh," he chuckled.

"All right, see you in the morning."

"Good night, Dad," I said.

*****

I did see Dad in the morning, but I felt his mouth first. He'd woken me up with head, and it took me a few seconds as I came to recognize where I was. My buddy Jeff was asleep next to me as Dad slowly, expertly sucked me off.

I gave him a silent pat on the side of his face after I came. My father was the best. He gave me a wink as he gave my cock one last kiss then scooted over and peeled back the sheet from Jeff's sleeping teen body. My buddy's hardon tented the shorts he'd slept in and I watched excitedly as Dad gingerly peeled them over and off his crotch.

Then my father leaned forward and proceeded to wake Jeff up in the same manner he'd just done me. It was wild to experience that as a spectator, seeing Jeff's young lithe body jerk in his sleep then his eyes open up.

"Oh hell... nice, Mr. Walsh," he said in his throaty morning voice before he slowly succumbed to Dad's skills and shot his own load.

"I thought I was just having a good dream," Jeff said as Dad pulled off him, swallowing the remnants of his cum.

[akwardlyuncool]

Akward Class Favorites The Playlist 2023

I thank y'all for being here. I thank myself for being here. Somehow you and I made it through another year and another Akward Class Favorites and that is a win in my book. I do this thing, whatever this is, because it brings me joy. Regardless of all the missing pieces or the things that will show up later cause I lost them in the couch, I'm still trying my best to show up for that joy. Before I officially close us out though, we gotta phat playlist to listen to. I'm also gonna add in some life-notes, cause I like to talk and I overshare and what better way to do that, than through an annotated playlist. Once again, thank you for sticking around and if you're new here thank you for showing up. As always conversation are encouraged on this blog. Let's see what comes next.

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Notes:

This is not a strictly 2023 playlist, but the 2023 songs will be clearly marked.

There is a story or flow that I tried to create once again, but you do not need to know any of that to follow along with the playlist. You can listen in order, shuffle, pick and choose, do whatever you want.

That being said if you’re following along from the beginning and reading along, the anecdotes that follow many of the songs aren’t really apart of that story, they’re just extra pieces of sometimes “personal” information that I include because it’s fun for me.

When I’m collecting YouTube links for these songs, I’ll often find a live or alternate version that I really like and will share that instead, or in addition to, the original/studio version. I will note when I do this, however the full Spotify playlist will have the “correct” version.

And to make sure I included the YouTube links in general, the formatting for the whole post might be a little off, sorry.

Side note: I wrote all the songs how they show up in Spotify, which is why some are capitalized and some are not. (Just in case anyone was wondering.)

Key:

⭐️ = Songs that came out specifically in 2023 🕚 = Songs that came out in November/December of 2022. (You know the late babies.) ✊🏾 = Songs by/featuring Black Artists.

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There is something here for literally EVERYONE, so if you don't find something you like, you didn't listen hard enough. Enjoy!

1. ⭐️ Gans Media Retro Games - Hot Mulligan

Why do I keep trying to spell Hot Mulligan as "Hott Mulligan?"

2. ⭐️ CHRONICALLY CAUTIOUS - Braden Baless

I relate to this song on a core level.

3. ✊🏾 Anxiety - Meg Thee Stallion

I know less than nothing about this current beef, but it's always gonna be team Meg!

4. I'D RATHER DIE - AS IT IS

It was a rough summer. People who know me in real life, I promise I'm fine.

5. ⭐️ Lost - Linkin Park

Happy 20th Anniversary to Meteora! These unearthed tracks fit that era so well.

6. ⭐️ Rational - Matt Maeson

Stop describing me lol.

7. ⭐️ No Shoes In The Coffee Shop “Or Socks” - Hot Mulligan

8. ⭐️ 20 Missed Calls - Braden Bales

The video is of a live session, but Spotify will have the recorded version.

9. How Do You Know It's Not Armadillo Shells? - Hot Mulligan

10. I Like to Hide in the Bathroom at Parties ft. The Knocks - Winnetka Bowling League

11. ✊🏾 Stupidfreak (Audiotree Live Version) - Juice

12. ⭐️ Nevermind - Between You & Me

13. Fake It - State Champs

14. ⭐️ It Won’t Be Like This Forever - Neck Deep

15. ⭐️ NEW LOVE - BOYS LIKE GIRLS

16. First Date (Acoustic Cover) - Taylor Acorn

17. PERRIER - Braden Bales

It's just so cute and it makes me want to find a crush and be in giddy kind love.

18. Sundress ft. Four Years Strong - State Champs

This song also makes me want to be in love.

19. Over My Head (Cable Car) - The Fray

Second first kisses or first second kisses? I definitely wanted to be there and wanted to do it again. Also it wouldn't hurt if you thought things would have gotten better the next time. This is filler a version cause the actual song that played was a heavy punk cover of this song and I don't know who sang it.

20. ⭐️ ✊🏾 Buckle Bunny - Tanner Adell

Be a little thot-y. Have a little fun. PS: This post has been written for quite some time now, but with the new conversations being had, I just want to add that Yoncé didn't invent Black Woman in Country music and she is not the revival of such things.

21. Nonsense - Sabrina Carpenter

Dress a little thot-y. Have a little fun. Flirt a little. Fall in love or hard core like.

22. ⭐️ Breakfast For Dinner - Winnetka Bowling League

This song is hella cute. Y'all don't understand how much I want to be in love.

23. ⭐️ The Places We’ll Go ft. Dashboard Confessional - Yellowcard

24. 🇵🇸 sun and moon - anees

My best friend had baby, but more relevant to this list, a baby-shower that was themed after the moon and the stars. She asked me to make the playlist and I understood the assignment. Free Palestine!

25. Spaceship - Andy Grammer

More baby shower playlist gems. Also this song is hella cute and I recommend it to all the parents.

26. Act Like That ft. Mitchell Tempenny - State Champs

27. An Irish Party in Third Class (Includes "John Ryan's Polka" and "Blarney Pilgrim") - Gaelic Storm

25th Titanic Anniversary in Imax 3D. Let's just say I finally got my "Dinner and A Movie," you know the one that Harriet The Spy was talking about.

28. ⭐️ ✊🏾 What’s The Move ft T-Pain - Watsky

29. ⭐️ FIGURE IT OUT ft. YNG Martyr and Stafford Beats - Chandler

I only really like Chandler's parts and if you heard this from this from TikTok, yes the Chandler Shimmy has a hold on me too.

30. ⭐️ THE OUTSIDE (Outsiders Version) ft. 30H!3, State Champs, The Summer Set and The Ready Set - Boys Like Girls

This collab is top tier and I'm still geeked about seeing most of them in one lineup. Also not to be rude, but what part does The Ready set do? I've been trying to figure out what he does and the answer doesn't seem to exist for me.

31. 31 - Mike Edel

32. Miles Apart - Yellowcard

This was my summer anthem for 2023. It's just such a perfect fit.

33. ⭐️ ONE MORE TIME - blink-182

PERFECT! No notes. It gives the same energy as Back Together by The Summer Set, both of them make me want to cry.

34. ⭐️ 2005 - Story Of The Year

I'm not mad at it. Let all the boys come back and reminisce, especially if it involves anniversary tours.

35. ⭐️ NOTHING LIKE THE LAST TIME - Watsky

I am celebrating. I am not crying. I promise you.

36. ⭐️ Don't - Wild Rivers

This song is so good, but I ran away from it because feelings are complicated and I thought I didn't know until I realized I did and then it was over. PS: You can always ask me how I feel or felt, conversations haven't expired yet.

37. 🕚 Forget Me (Piano Acoustic Version) - Lewis Capaldi

38. are you okay? - Winnetka Bowling League

This song is everything, moody, sad, caring…. all the feelings.

39. Untitled - Rex Orange County

40. ⭐️ That’s Not How This Works ft. Dan + Shay - Charlie Puth

41. ⭐️ That's Not How This Works (Sabrina's Version) ft. Dan + Shay and Sabrina Carpenter - Charlie Puth

You can skip this one if you want, I just listened to both versions back to back every time, so it was hard to not include both.

42. fiimiy (fuck it, i miss you - Live Version) ft. Demi Lovato - Winnetka Bowling League

Sometimes you just need to let yourself say the words, even if you don't act on them.

43. ⭐️ Heartbreak Of The Century - Neck Deep

I feel like I'm finally getting back into Neck Deep, not that I really stopped I just didn't listen to their last album and it feels so good to be back.

44. ⭐️ BLOOD AND SUGAR - BOYS LIKE GIRLS

I love this song so much, it's hella groovy, but I'm sorry I can't ignore the fact that it's essentially "why doesn't she like me?" or "why won't she go out with me, we're all just human?" Or hey to be more forgiving, "why does she make me feel this strongly if we're only 'blood and sugar?'"

45. ⭐️ Daddy Issues… - Bury Mia

46. MakeDamnSure (Cover) - Hot Mulligan

47. 31 - Soul Glo

This was the first song that popped up when I was looking for songs the day I turned 31 and I will say it's not for the white faint of hearts. It goes hella hard though.

48. Fuck You - The Used

49. *Equip Sunglasses* - Hot Mulligan

50. ⭐️ ✊🏾 Roll The Dice - Fluorescents

I walked around singing that 30 second bit from TikTok for a good minute there. I was probably annoying. Although I do enjoy the song, I wonder if TikTok is just feeding me pizza. Do I really like these songs or do I only like the 30 seconds I've heard 100 times. (I'm gonna make a playlist of my music folder on TikTok and get back to you on that one.)

51. Forward - Linkin Park

Songs 51-54 are what I considered to be my safe music for a period this summer cause I was just so sad and nothing was making me happy for the longest time, so thank you Linkin Park and Disperser CA for being the "good guys."

52. Breaking The Habit - Linkin Park

Again happy 20th Anniversary to Meteora, thanks for being there when I needed you.

53. ✊🏾 Snake Eyes - Disperser CA

54. ⭐️ Easier To Run (Lofi Version) - Less Gravity/Linkin Park

55. ⭐️ They Don't Make Pills For A Heartbreak - HONESTAV

I heard it late one night and wanted to cry.

56. Monsters - James Blunt

57. ⭐️ Cut Deep (Live Version) - Matt Maeson

I think this was from my date of the Never Had To Leave Tour, which makes it extra special.

58. I Need You - Relient K

TMI, I thought I was breaking up with my sister (will not provide any further details) and through this song, among others and prayer, we're comforting me. I'm okay, but still working on healing wounds.

59. Brown Skin Girl - Blue Ivy, SAINt JHN, Beyoncé & Wizkid

It's here in the name of my self love journey.

SPOTIFY LINK!

[serostuffsmh]

(Sorry that I am late to the party.) But what you said about older men infantilze people is trueeee. I have had that same experience! Whenever you have the time I'll tell you my story.

Crazy enough not too long ago a man 8 years older than me asked me out and I was like NOOOOOO. I rather be single then put up with it again. Plus he was being a creep and I was too nice to him.... don't be nice to men. They get too bold and creepy. That's a lesson I have learned.

-🐯

Omg you gotta tell me. You can totally dm me or if you’d like and you have discord you can give me your user.

THEYRE JUST AHHGFFGR they tire me out and I have so much to tell.