#I’m on a first name basis with the Triple A guy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thatmultifandomhoe · 4 years ago

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Otherworldly Lovin’

Pairing: Alien Taehyung and Human Reader

Word Count: 6,319

Genre/Rating: NSFW - Alien AU - Friends to Lovers AU - Smut - PWP - Fluff - Rated R

Overview: Not only did he crash land into your yard, but he also crashed right into your heart...among other places.

Warning: oh boy. Alien sex - masturbation - tentacles - light bondage(?) - throat fucking - breast and nipple play - oral sex (fem and tentacle receiving) - Taehyung has the ability to extend his tongue - size kink - Taehyung can change his dick to any size - there’s slime from said tentacles - multiple orgasms - multiple penetration - breeding kink - cream pie - tiddie fucking(it’s a tentacle mushed between boobs having the time of its life if that counts?) - unrealistic sex - hentai, it’s basically hentai - swearing - dirty talk - maybe some sub (fem) and dom (Tae) undertones if you squint - cum play - talk of pregnancy.

Main Master List:

Wish Upon a Star Collaboration Master List

Tagging: @thedarkwinterrose @thatlongspringnight @ggukcangetit @ezralia-writes @hidinginmycupboard @ifntelyinspirit

©thatmultifandomhoe 2021. Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without permission.

The breeze felt like chilly kisses along your skin during the late-night walk home. It had been fun to see your friends, but as the house party grew in numbers and space became limited, that was your cue to head out before there had been a visit from the men in blue to break it up. It wasn’t Cara’s first time throwing a party that climbed into the triple digits, and despite being on a first name basis with law enforcement in regards to her wild parties, it wouldn’t be her last party.

Kicking at the gravel, you gathered up the hair off the back of your neck with both hands, leaning back your head to look up at the night sky while still walking. The stars were bright, brighter than diamonds, and not for the first time you found yourself grateful that you had made the decision to move to the outskirts of Arizona. Was it hot? Of course. Were people behind the wheel absolutely insane? Fuck yes. Was it risky living on your own, in the desert, in an area where crime was going up again? Extremely. Maybe it was childish and stupid, but between the sunsets and mother nature’s natural landscape, it was all worth it in your eyes.

By the time you reached the front door, you barely glanced at the ten-foot ditch that was only a few feet from the side of your house as you went inside. The ditch hadn’t always been there, and as you turned the three set of locks behind you, a cooling sensation wrapped around your calf to begin its ascent up your bare leg.

“How was the party?” it asked.

You raised an eyebrow, unphased with having a conversation with the green blob.

“Alright,” you said, holding out a hand for it to jump on to like it usually did. This time, it simply shook its little nub of a head. “I mean, it was nice to hang out with her and have a few drinks, but her house filled up fast.”

“And it’s not good for humans to be surrounded by so many people?”

The corner of your mouth lifted as you walked to the kitchen, feeling him climb up to your knee this time. “I mean, it can be dangerous when there are over a hundred people partying in a small house while intoxicated, a lot of people don’t care though.”

“But you care.”

“I do.”

Opening the cabinet, you pulled out a glass and went to the water cooler to fill it up, dropping in a few ice cubes for that extra chill, trying not to think about how cooling and enticing it felt to have the little alien crawling up your bare leg, nearly reaching your thigh. He was a slow mover but he got around.

It was this little green blob, no taller than a hand, who had been the one to create that lovely ditch in your yard, and had succeeded in scaring the absolute shit out of you at four in the morning when it happened. The last thing you ever expected in the world was for aliens to be real – yes, you had been one of the many who was a non-believer – but Taehyung had been the one to convert you quite quickly.

“You don’t look like an alien,” you said, watching as the green, see-through blob slid around on the kitchen table.

“And what does an alien look like?” it asked.

“A crap ton taller,” you immediately answered, rubbing your eyes to try and see just how it was able to talk, let alone have a voice. You could see the wooden chair that was behind it, and there was nothing inside of it. It was just a blob about the size of a softball, from space.

Apparently, that offended the creature, as it suddenly formed two small nubs – what you assumed to be arms, which were promptly placed on its side - and a nub on top for its head. “Excuse me, I don’t know what it’s like here, but where I come from, it’s extremely rude to point out someone’s size. And I’ll have you know; On my home planet I am quite larger than this.”

You blinked.

Maybe it was because you were still wondering if you were insane to be talking to a green blob claiming to be an alien, but a sudden pang went through your chest at having hurt the little guy. Sighing, your footsteps papped against the tile floor as you pulled out one of the chairs at the table to sit down.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly, leaning your cheek in the palm of your left hand to look at it. “You’re right, it was rude of me. Let’s start over. What’s your name?”

It stared up at you. At least, you assumed it was as it turned its body to face you. For a moment, the green blob stood there until finally taking a few steps towards you.

“Taehyung.”

These last few months had been an unforgettable experience, but it would be a lie to say that it hadn’t made life more interesting. The ship he had been flying in was a small metal contraption that could have easily been mistaken as a toy drone. At his request, you had brought it in the house that next morning, and after inspecting it, Taehyung announced it to be completely damaged, but not unfixable. Since then, there had been several times where you stumbled upon him trying to form the arms that he needed to try to patch it up himself, but the crash had forced him into his smaller form for protection, and made it impossible to expand himself the way he needed to.

Only a few days into his stay, you learned that his people – the Flubbers – were similar to that in regards to human height and features. Unlike measly humans, they were able to turn their bodies into this green blob at will, but mostly it was used as a defensive measure to protect themselves or when they were traveling in their small ships. As a result of the crash, Taehyung had trouble returning back to his regular form and with nowhere else to go, he became your new roommate.

But as he began to crawl underneath the fabric of your shorts, the coolness of his body was enticing in more ways than one. Your breath turned shaky as you hurried to reach down and remove him from your thigh.

“How was your night?” You suddenly asked, not wanting him to question why you removed him.

He tilted his body, but settled down in your palms. “I watched more of those shows on your Netflix account.”

“Which ones?”

“Black Butler.”

You gasped, narrowing your eyes at him as you carried him back to your room. “Come on, we were supposed to finish that together.”

“But you were gone, and I wanted to watch it,” Taehyung only remained still for a few more seconds before stretching out himself to begin crawling up your arm.

It was perhaps the weirdest sensation in the world, but it reminded you of the end result of making slime when you were back in college and your roommates dragged you out to the craft events put on by campus. Taehyung was sturdier, more solid, and less gooey. Okay, he wasn’t gooey at all. But as he crawled his way around your arm and shoulder, you were suddenly awfully aware of the fact that you were only wearing a skimpy black tank top with spaghetti straps, allowing him to feel every inch and curve of your body and soak in your body heat. He was naturally cool but he usually warmed up after crawling on your arm for a while.

The fact that he was crawling up to you wasn’t unusual. Tonight however, it was like he was attached to your body and trying to feel every single part of you.

“That’s not nice,” you murmured, shakily inhaling as he slid a tendril-like arm across your neck, his body slinking across your chest. You kicked off your shoes and glanced at your reflection in the full-length mirror. Cheeks flushed, throat bobbing as you swallowed, and you could see that he was forming another limb, stretching it out to wrap around your bicep.

“You said I could watch whatever I wanted. And I wanted to watch Black Butler.” Taehyung said.

In the mirror, you could see his small head glance down, his body suddenly pausing at the discovery that there was something underneath your shirt. He was an alien. Since his arrival, you made sure to get dressed in the bathroom so that he didn’t see certain things.

In addition to that, you hadn’t been entirely sure if he slept or not, so you had created a small bed for him on the floor of your bedroom out of a box you had and thrown in a bunch of soft towels to make it comfortable for him. He seemed to enjoy it since he slid to his bed every night, even tucking himself underneath some of the towels. So not only had you been sharing a room with an alien, but these last few months had been incredibly, touch starving, especially since you were single. It wasn’t like you could suddenly make yourself feel good when Taehyung was right there and would probably ask what you were doing and why.

And now…now you were feeling incredibly horny.

You watched him create another limb, only to close your eyes to feel it softly slide down your sternum, heart racing as it followed the curve of your breast, your pussy clenching around nothing. A second – or was it a third? Maybe a fourth? - limb slipped underneath the shirt to encircle your other breast, but this one was more curious, feeling the size and tightening around the boob when it suddenly ran over your nipple. You stumbled back against the foot-board of the bed until you sat on it, accidentally pressing yourself against the frame and hitting your clit, resulting in an audible gasp.

His limbs suddenly retracted at the sound and before you could stop yourself, you whined at the loss of them only to realize what you had done. He was an alien. You were a human.

“Did I hurt you?” Taehyung asked.

You shook your head, opening your eyes to remove him from where he had wrapped himself around your neck and set him on the bed. Not once did you glance at the mirror, already knowing how flustered you looked. “No, I’m fine.”

“Then what was that sound?”

Damn him for being so curious. “Don’t worry about it. Why don’t you go to bed? I’m going to get dressed.”

Before he could ask another question, you grabbed the spare bed and hurried to the bathroom, taking several deep breaths when certain that you were, in-fact, alone. Not once during these last few months had he touched you like that, and now that he had, you found yourself craving more. It reminded you too much of those hentai videos you occasional stumbled upon while on the hub, and as you hurriedly kicked off your shorts to slip your own hand underneath your panties, you softly moaned when you felt how wet your panties were.

He had created those limbs like it was nothing. Easily curling and wrapping himself around you like second nature, and as you ran your own finger over your clit to take care of yourself, you couldn’t help but imagine what he would have done had you let him crawl up your shorts like he had started to do. Taehyung typically kept himself in the shape of a blob, but you were certain that he would have no issue in filling you up completely.

You pressed yourself further against the wall, another soft moan escaping you. Eyes closed, you were so focused on getting off, that you missed how underneath the doorway, a flat green blob slid its way underneath the door. A limb shaped itself, watching your general direction like it was absorbing your reactions, only to disappear the same way it came when you were satisfied.

A few nights later, you sighed as you shifted under the blankets once again. The fan had done its job and made the bedroom chilly, but you still couldn’t fall asleep. You tried warm milk, listening to instrumental music, counting sheep. Nothing seemed to work.

“You’re not sleeping?” Taehyung asked.

You glanced at the box on the floor, seeing his towels shift as he moved around. He hadn’t spoken about what happened the other night and neither had you, and for that, you were grateful. He was a friend. The last thing you wanted to do was ruin the only friendship he had while he stayed until his ship was fixed.

“Just having a hard time,” you softly answered.

He was quiet for a moment. “Would you like to talk about it?”

A soft chuckle slipped out of your lips and you rolled over, holding a hand out over the edge. In seconds he was wrapping himself around the limb and crawling on to the empty space next to you.

“Do you miss it?” You asked, slipping an arm underneath your head. “Your home? Your friends and family must miss you a lot.”

“Parts of it,” Taehyung admitted. For being a small green blob – or a small green Flubber – he had a deep baritone voice, and when he spoke softly, there was a calming effect that washed over you. It was the type of voice that not only promised protection, but had the power to be absolutely sinful. “There’s my family and friends that I do miss, but it was a strict place. We’re not a species that was intended to survive you see. A long time ago, the very first of my kind had been created here on your planet by someone…a doctor Jacob, Philip, or Robin, someone at least made a mistake, and from that the first Flubber was born. Over the decades we’ve evolved and managed to repopulate ourselves, but even I can’t remember how we managed to leave this planet and end up on our own. Some poor Flubber had probably been somewhere he shouldn’t have been.”

He shifted and for some reason, if he had facial features right at that moment, you could imagine him lifting an eyebrow with the smallest of smirks. “That’s why our society is strict. We were a mistake yes, but we quite like being alive and would rather keep it that way Flubbers are expected to do as they’re told and I wanted to explore. To see other worlds and galaxies. Granted, crash landing in your back yard was not at all part of the plan, or ruining my ship, but things have had an unexpected way of working out. After all, I did go off in search of the unexpected.”

Gently smiling at him, you nodded in agreement, wetting your lips. “Do you think you’ll go back? Once you fix your ship and explore for a while?”

“Good question. Maybe. I’m not entirely sure. The human race is, well…you people are certainly the most complex creatures I have ever met. I could spend a century here and still be trying to understand everything.”

You rolled on to your back with a laugh, feeling him slide his way up onto your stomach, the sensation sending shivers running through your body since the night shirt rose up at some point. Glancing down, Taehyung stretched a limb out, running it along your waist.

“Humans are very complex,” Taehyung repeated, his voice turning husky as if this was affecting him as well. “Complex, but perhaps, the most fascinating of all creatures to exist.”

No words came from you. Once again, your breath was stuck as he extended his other limb and you watched it crawl its way underneath the shirt, this time rubbing itself right over the nipple. Like he had memorized your reaction to it last time. You shakily gasped again, but you didn’t stop him. You could barely think, unable to look away as his body shifted, expanding itself to a larger version of himself.

“I’ve been practicing to regain my normal form,” he said. “It’s been hard, but I believe I can finally go back and stay in it permanently again.”

The two short nubs he had for legs elongated and thickened with his body. No longer was he a small blob, but he was taking on a new shape. One that was leaner, taller than you, and for the first time, he was gaining features that individualized him. The more he changed, the less green and see through he was. Instead, it turned into a very dark green tint on sun kissed skin, with dark brown eyes delicately painted with streaks of green. Looking down at you - like you imagined - a smirk had found its way home on his face while at the same time, a thumb harshly squeezed and rubbed against your nipple again. You moaned and leaned back into the pillow, wanting him, wanting more.

“Like I said before, us Flubbers are very similar to you humans, only we have…something extra.”

“And what’s that?” You forced out; eyes closed as another moan slipped out when his hands grabbed both breasts. He didn’t need to answer though, because as he played with your chest, something wrapped around your leg. It was similar to his limbs that he normally curled along your body, just as cool and thick to the touch. The thing making its way up your thigh was nearly forgotten about when Taehyung suddenly yanked off the shirt you were wearing, not wasting a second to kiss and suck at your breasts.

Chest heaving, it was impossible to think straight. Parts of your body had chills running across them while others felt hotter than the desert. He wasn’t letting up. Once satisfied, Taehyung gave his complete attention to the other, determined to leave behind a purple and wet path of where he had been. Every now and then there was sharp pain, but he was quick to quiet your whimpers by running his tongue over the marks and leaving a sweet kiss. The thing that had been crawling along your leg was at mid-thigh when it tightened, drawing your attention to its existence when suddenly, something else was sliding inside of your shorts.

Your eyes immediately opened and when you looked down, common sense went out the window as you swallowed the saliva building up in your mouth, pussy clenching. The limbs that you were used to seeing were back. One was coming out of the middle of Taehyung’s back, another appeared to be coming from his side, and as you watched, two more were forming and extending themselves. Unlike the rest of his form, they were completely green, nearly see through.

“We call them Extenders,” Taehyung murmured as he left thick kisses on your skin. “Extra limbs to help carry items and with everyday tasks.”

He lifted his head, eyes searching yours as his eyebrow quirked at you. “But I believe the term that you’re more with, is, tentacles.”

Oh. Oh, you were absolutely fucked.

A soft whimper slipped out when the tentacle that had been sneaking its way underneath your shorts purposely rubbed hard over your underwear. Taehyung must have heard it because his grin widened, and his Extenders were moving your legs to cage him against you.

“Usually I’m not like this,” he continued. “I think my body is still adjusting to this planet but thinks I’m back home. During this time of year, this is normally our season when we mate. That’s something you humans don’t have here, do you?”

Despite how much you wanted the tentacle to slip underneath the underwear, it stayed right where it was, content with teasing you. “We do that whenever we want,” you finally answered. Your gaze met Taehyung’s just in time to see his eyes light up in curiosity.

“Really?”

An ache was growing the longer you remained empty, and if the Extender underneath your shorts continued rubbing the way it was, you weren’t going to be lasting much longer. So, without caring about the consequences, you cupped Taehyung’s face and kissed him deeply. The sudden action allowed the tentacles around your legs to loosen just enough for you to wrap them around his hips, pulling him closer to you. Something thick pressed against your pussy, much larger than the other Extenders growing out of him, made both of you groan at the sudden pressure.

“Mate me,” you breathed out in-between kisses. His form was solid like a human, and his hair was soft when you ran your fingers through the locks. “Please Taehyung, please mate with me. I’m begging you.”

For a moment, Taehyung just stared down at you. Even the tentacles that had been sliding along your body paused at your words. It only lasted for that one moment. The corner of his lips curled upwards and the green streaks in his eyes darkened before he kissed you again, pressing himself completely against you.

Taehyung’s normal form may have appeared human, and besides the tentacles that moved on their own and were currently crawling their way up your sides and arms, it seemed that he was able to extend not just them, but every part of his body. The kiss was a frenzy from the start, and when the tentacle finally slipped underneath the underwear like you wanted and began to rub your clit earnestly, butterflies swarmed as your lower belly tightened, the orgasm that had been building was now forced from you.

He abruptly broke the kiss and pushed himself up, his hungry gaze running down the length of your body as you gasped in the fresh air. There was no break for you because he ripped away the remaining clothing and threw your legs over his shoulder to lick at your pussy. You lost track of how many tentacles were wrapping along your body, barely noticing that it wasn’t Taehyung holding you open as he ate like a starved man. Tears pooled at the corner of your eyes from over-stimulation, but when he suckled at your clit and something long entered your pussy, you cried out in pleasure at finally being filled. It was different from the tentacles caressing your body, more tapered and thinner, and when your walls squeezed around it, Taehyung groaned and every vibration sent your nerves into overdrive.

Glancing down at him, you realized that what was inside you was not another tentacle. There were two green Extenders holding your legs in place, and one currently held your wrists together bound above your head as numbers four and five slid along your body. One of them curled around your chest, leaving behind a slippery green slime in its path that felt cool to the touch as the other made its way closer to your face. You dropped your head back down on the pillow and tried to lift your hips to grind against Taehyung’s face, but a harsh suck made you gasp and stop all movement.

The tentacle reached your face, lazily poking your cheek until you rewarded it with undivided attention. Its movements were gentle as it traced the shape of your lips, the slime it left behind smearing across your face elicited a moan from the alien that was on the receiving end of you being turned on. This was one wet dream that you had never thought would become a reality, and now that it was happening, you didn’t want it to stop. Relaxing against the bed, you wet your lips out of habit before opening your mouth. Like you hoped, the tentacle went in to inspect this new place.

It was slippery as you ran your tongue against the tentacle, discovering it had some weight to it, and the slime that it oozed was sweet like the honey you used in teas. Out of curiosity you swallowed around the limb. A strangled groan came from Taehyung, and it twitched within its confines but didn’t try to remove itself. The more you sucked, the more it appeared to lubricate itself, forcing you to alternate every so often.

“Fucking hell,” Taehyung moaned. Sitting on his knees, he gazed down at you with eyes dark enough to appear black, those green streaks bright enough to glow in the dark. He was finally able to see what his tentacles had gotten themselves up to while he had been busy having his own meal, his chin wet as his tongue shrunk back to normal size.

Taehyung stared at you as the tentacle went further in your mouth, his chest heaving when you relaxed yourself to take it even further. All of the tentacles tightened at your actions, but his gaze went to your chest where one Extender had succeeded in wrapping itself around your breasts to squeeze them together and was currently rubbing itself between the small space, creating a slippery mess that made your skin tingle until it was numb.

“Look at you,” Tae murmured, lowering himself back down to your lower half. “You’re a mess darling.” He kissed your hip sweetly, quite the contradiction to everything else as one of his tentacles was in the midst of thrusting itself down your throat. Butterflies fluttered when he kissed his way across your belly, following the path of slime that had been left behind until his lower half was firmly pressed against yours, his hips grinding against yours so his cock rubbed along your lips.

“An absolute, fucking mess.”

You were so used to the jokes and pleasantries from Taehyung that to hear him swear, to call you darling as he rubbed himself against you, to have him use you as he wanted, it made your head spin until there was nothing but pure desire and need on your mind. He had already gotten you to orgasm twice without cumming himself and you still felt empty. He had yet to give you what you really wanted.

He went higher, not stopping until he was leaving wet kisses on your throat. “Such a beautiful, fucking, mess, and we’re not even done. Think you can keep up with me and my friend’s darling?”

The tentacle pulled out of your mouth then, allowing you to sharply inhale as Taehyung wiped away the string of saliva connecting you to it. He was patient as you caught your breath, amusing himself by continuing his kisses up to the back of your ear. Strands of hair were plastered to your forehead and despite everything, you felt more alive than you ever had.

“More,” you softly whispered, throat a bit sore.

Taehyung softly hummed. Palms trailed up your sides, smearing the slime all over and up on your breasts, not caring that there was a tentacle obsessed with loving them.

“I don’t think you know what you’re asking for,” Taehyung taunted. There was a shift in his hips and this time, the head of his cock was now pressing against your pussy.

You tilted your head, capturing his lips in an open mouth kiss. Out of habit you tried to wrap your arms around his shoulders, but the Extenders tightened around your wrists. He didn’t even try to coax his tongue in your mouth. He slipped in with ease and you groaned when you realized that you tasted yourself on him. His hands settled on your hips and this time, to your pleasure, he pushed his cock in. The stretch stung but after finally having him in like you wanted all along, it satisfied the ache of being empty that had been growing since this all started a few nights ago.

“Fuck,” Taehyung groaned, knuckles turning white from his grip on your hips. “So different. You’re so warm.”

His cock moved but his hips remained pressed and still against yours, drawing your curiosity to look down. Taehyung had pushed himself balls deep, but you felt his dick changing within you. It was growing thicker, longer, and when he pulled back to thrust back in, you gasped as the new ridges that were along his shaft. He was accommodating himself to fit you perfectly. A one true fit that was made just for you.

The green in his eyes flashed, the tentacles still wrapped around your body tightened to hold you in place as Taehyung’s pace picked up, the ridges rubbing against your inner walls with each stroke became more prominent. You closed your eyes as you pressed back against the pillow, and when there was an eager poke at your lips, your mouth simply opened for the tentacle to slip inside. You were just as eager; the honey flavored slime was addicting to the taste. It was only when there was new wiggling pressure on your clit that you looked down, past the tentacle that was fucking your tits with a newfound passion as it tightened around them to make the space smaller, to see that there was a new Extender rubbing itself on your clit. The pressure was enough to make you moan, legs shaking even in Tae’s grip, but as you watched, it appeared that it didn’t plan to stay there very long. With every thrust from Taehyung, your pussy grew slicker, allowing this appendage to nudge its way into your pussy alongside his dick, all while still rubbing against your clit with each thrust.

Your cry was muffled, the stretch almost becoming overwhelming when more tentacles appeared to cover your body in an attempt to soothe and draw your focus away from the pain. Two more latched themselves on your nipples and by some magic he was able to shape them into mouths that pinched and sucked the same way Taehyung had done earlier. Another two appeared in the palms of your hands with similar ridges to his cock, and not wanting you to be too empty, a thinner tentacle slipped inside your mouth as well. You were completely and utterly stuffed, and had lost count of how many of them there were now with all senses on haywire as your nerves felt like lava with his every touch and yet, somehow, something was still missing.

The headboard thumped against the wall as Taehyung went faster, almost erratic as he chased his own high that he had been holding back from. In the darkness of the bedroom, a green light radiated from Taehyung and the Extenders that were wrapped around you, and when his gaze locked on yours, even his eyes took on the faintest glow. It was otherworldly. For a brief moment, everything slowed around the two of you as the tentacles in your mouth suddenly removed themselves. He swooped down to replace his lips where they had been, his kiss sweet and gentle as he cupped the back of your neck.

A chill racked through your body as the tentacles hugged your body, but your mind was focused on the softness of Taehyung’s lips, and how they made your heart flutter. For a split second, he pulled back to press his forehead against yours while murmuring a foreign word. Despite not knowing what he said, you softly hummed and brushed your nose against his, making him smile. He tried to kiss you again but kept breaking out into a smile that you found yourself unable to resist.

It was when he recaptured your lips in a kiss that the glowing grew brighter, lighting up the room completely. A tingling sensation ran through your body, the temperature skyrocketing as beads of sweat dotted along your skin. Taehyung thrusted one last time, his hips hilting against yours as he reached his release filling you with a green tinted substance that also spurted out of the tentacles, coating your body in goo. You would have been grossed out, but the cum that oozed out of his tentacles along with the slime from earlier was cooling to your feverish skin.

You moaned into the kiss, the Extenders that had curled and twisted around your arms suddenly dropped down to the pillows spent and exhausted. Now free, you were able to tangle your fingers through his hair. Neither of you cared how the goo dripped down your wrists or matted itself in his locks when he leaned down to leave several kisses on your cheek among the sweet words of endearment that he whispered along your skin. This gentle and tenderness was reminiscent of the Taehyung you had known while he was still in his blob form.

All of his Extenders had released you from their grip, simply resting themselves on your bodies before Taehyung called them back. You had gone to kiss him once more when his hips pressed further against yours, his dick still inside you as some of his cum spilled out from around him and down your thigh.

“Shit,” Taehyung murmured, glancing down at where the two of you were still connected.

You softly chuckled. “Is mating season usually this messy?”

He looked back up at you, a boxy smile appearing. “Sorry about that. It’s meant to ensure a successful mating, which entails with the female being pregnant by the end of the season. But it’s never been this pleasurable before.”

Even though you had never met a female Flubber in your life, a sense of pride flashed through you. You weren’t his first apparently, but you were the first to make it feel good at least. “Does that mean you have kids back home?”

“No,” he shifted his weight, lifting an arm to shove his fingers through his hair and off his forehead. “I had only come of age five winters ago, and it’s expected that Flubbers who participate for the first time are not likely to have a successful mating. This would have been my sixth attempt.”

“Sixth attempt?” You asked, leaning your head back against the pillow.

Taehyung carefully sat up. He was mindful this time of his dick keeping his cum inside you, the last thing he wanted to do was risk losing another drop. “When there is a successful mating, the two Flubbers then join in unity until their deaths. If they can produce children the first time, then they’ll be able to have another successful pregnancy next season.”

“So, if I get pregnant, you’ll stay?”

The room fell silent. The glow that had been emanating from Taehyung dimmed now that he was no longer caught up in the moment of his orgasm, but you could still see the way he pressed his lips together. One of the tentacles curled around your arm once more, slightly squeezing you in a gentle manner that reminded you of a hug.

You didn’t want Taehyung to go. Even before tonight, you had enjoyed his company greatly, and if he were to leave, who were you going to finish watching Black Butler with? There wouldn’t be anyone who would spend hours asking about what it was like to be human, who offered help around the house, or would tell you stories about what it was like where he was from. Even going to bed wouldn’t be the same without his check ins, wondering if you had enough blankets, a glass of water on the nightstand, and not so casually reminding you that if you scrolled through your phone until three in the morning again, you’d be cranky when having to go to work the next day.

It wouldn’t be home without Taehyung.

“Actually…” his fingers dug into the fleshy bits of your thighs, his thumb moving in circles as it rubbed some of his cum into the skin. “I was hoping that I could stay. Even if you never got pregnant. If…if that’s okay with you of course.”

Not able to really move, you stroked the length of one of the tentacles still on you, watching Taehyung’s body shiver at the touch. “Nothing would make me happier than that Tae.”

His thumb stopped moving, the green streaks in his eyes once again brightening as he leaned down to capture your lips in a kiss. The Extenders came back to life then, each one slipping underneath your body in a tight hug as Taehyung lifted you off the bed when he stood. Your legs squeezed his waist but he merely laughed.

“What are you doing?” You asked when he carried you to the bathroom. With the help of one of his tentacles, the light flickered on.

He lightly nipped at your collarbone. “If you hadn’t noticed yet darling, I am still lodged inside you, and we are covered in various liquids. We are in desperate need of cleaning ourselves.”

Glancing in the mirror behind Taehyung, you were finally able to see the result of tonight’s love fest. The slime had left a clear green tint that had dried down to your skin, and the release of his cum had even gotten in your hair. Tae had not been lucky either and was fairly covered in the goo himself.

“Besides,” he murmured, recapturing your attention as the water from the shower head suddenly turned on. You however, were focused on the way his eyes darkened and his smile curled into a sneaky grin that sent your heart racing. “Like I said earlier, my body is still adjusting and thinks that it’s mating season here. This is not a one-night occurrence my darling.”

One of his tentacles roamed over your chest, paying particular attention to your breasts as Taehyung stepped into the shower, the hot water only seeming to help his Extenders in their movements. At least with a shower, the result of this round of love making would be easier to clean than your stained and ruined bed sheets.

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ohheyitsokay · 4 years ago

Text

strike

part 3 of the ‘hey batter batter’ series

pairing: Francisco Morales (Frankie, Catfish) x reader

wordcount: 2k

warnings: extremely mild mentions of sex, unwanted advances that don’t get far (not by Frankie)

summary: it’s a Triple Frontier baseball au - trust me, you don’t need to know anything about baseball.

In this chapter, we learn that a ‘strike’ is when a batter misses the ball when he swings, even though he shouldn’t have. And some strikes don’t just happen during baseball.

“Jimbo, I'm here!” You called as you kicked the door closed behind you, arms heavy with grocery bags. Your grandfather would be in the living room, no doubt impatiently waiting for you to unload so you could watch the baseball game together. It was a few states away, which meant the two of you could enjoy evening on the couch with affordable snacks and air conditioning. Games in person were more exciting, but climbing all those stairs wasn’t great for his knees, and it was nice to chat with him without the roar of the crowds.

There was a faint squeak to his favorite rocker, and you unloaded half the bags onto the coffee table – his favorite treats – before tossing the rest haphazardly into their places in his little kitchen. You raced the commercials, listening to the final advertisements with one ear as you hurried to get yourself settled, even though he was always happy to chat with you during the game. For these times with him, you hated to miss even a moment. The chair to the left of his was yours, newer and softer and it would have been the perfect evening, eating and catching up with your favorite man.

Except this was the first real opportunity for him to grill you about your unexpected lunch with his heroes.

There had been laughter in his voice when you had tried to call him afterwards, and he had told you he would wait to hear the story. To him, even over the phone you couldn’t hide how flustered you were, just moments after Francesco’s eyes had been in yours. All things considered, he had been more than patient, so as you fidgeted and you kept your eyes on the screen, you told him what had happened as casually as you could.

It was the top of the first inning – the very beginning of the game, and his boys were mostly crowded into the dugout. Their fingers were grabbing fistfuls of sunflower seeds or pulling on batting gloves or hanging on the wire, watching as Will walked up to bat. There was a fun country song playing, and it was surreal, thinking it had just been a few days since he had tossed a chunk of fried food into the air and his brother had caught it in his mouth. James thoroughly enjoyed you story, laughing and for once not lecturing you about leaving them alone to live their lives. He seemed approving, proud of you for taking a change, and proud that the boys from his favorite team did his favorite granddaughter well. You answered this questions and indulged his excitement over the little things, trying not to reveal too much of your own daydream fodder. Thinking of Francisco’s eyes as he laughed at the Miller boys, you grabbed a pillow to give your hands something to hold onto, to ground yourself.

The camera panned over to Tom adjusting his cap and without thinking you winced. When you realized that James had caught the movement, you winced again.

You had to explain, then, the biggest detail that you had glossed over – the only one that would disappoint your grandfather. The outfielder had looked at you with confidence and hunger in his eyes. His fingers on your hand left cool, invisible lines, slimy like residue of the stadium cup holders.

James listened with sad eyes, before he was reaching over, gently squeezing your hand, and asking about Will’s family in town to find out if he knew a relative. It was kindness - changing the topic, rewarming the memory as he coaxed out more details of their interactions with you and each other, making you blush and laugh and smile.

The discomfort that had been lodged in your heart regarding the athlete lessened as you remembered that they were all human. It had been clear the other players respected him, maybe even looked up to him, and that had to be good for something. Even though it had just been a lunch, a single moment in time, the assessments of a group of open hearted baseball players already held weight on your opinion.

As you began to tell James about a joke Santiagio had told, you noticed that Tom’s turn had come and gone, and he had struck out.

Every professional sports group had a second team, full of people who pushed papers and cleaned locker rooms and handled press conferences. One of these people was a woman who was in charge of sorting through and organizing special fan appearances.

Flipping through applications and mail, she would have hardly noticed the broad shoulders and hazel eyes of the man who entered, had he not kissed her breathless the night before.

For all they were on and off and she knew he was a player in all senses of the word, she couldn’t help but stand, and let his hands find her hips as he pressed into her.

“Hi, Tom,” she whispered, already dazed and adoring as his beard scraped at her neck, warm and insistent.

“Hey, babe,” he returned, absentmindedly, squeezing her hips before pulling away. There was something about his eyes, the way he held his head, like his shoulders were comfortable bearing the weight of others, like he’d prefer it that way, that made him seem like a natural born leader.

She knew him better. He had the crowds and the rookies and the managers and even his brothers on the team wrapped around his fingers - the perfect mentorship allusion, but she knew. There was another side to him, a darker side, filled to the brim with pride and arrogance and power. Of all the men who flashed smiles as they shook hands and carried kids on their shoulders for photos – he was the one who preened the most. There was a hunger in his eyes, even greater than when he’d love her, when a chance came for him to do an extra interview, put some senior input in, or take a newbie to his first after party.

Still, she loved him. Too much, maybe, but her mind whispered not enough, and she hungrily took what ever he would give her. There were always flowers and jewelry and coveted high-status sex in his apologies, anyway, and she knew he’d always come back to her, eventually. She knew better than to guess.

“What can I do for you?” she asked, star stuck in spite of it all, but knowing there must be something. His “cousin” had stocks in the team, or a certain string needed to be pulled. There was always something.

When he asked for the number of a girl from a few weeks ago, there was an all-too-familiar twist in her gut.

“Tom, you know that information is confidential,” she whined, masking her fear, turning back towards her desk. It was infuriating how disarming, intoxicating, and how solid he felt behind her, how smooth his words felt on the shell of her ear.

“It’s for Benny, babe, he’s got it bad for her,” it was a lie, but she didn’t know it, and the knot in her stomach loosened a little. His hand slipped under her blouse and it came undone, submitting entirely to the façade.

“Let me help the little guy out.” For all his charisma, she wanted desperately to believe he was sincere, so she did. Her hands started steady as she opened a thick binder and began flipping through the glossy dividers. She moved as slow as she could, hopelessly savoring his touch, knowing when it was gone, the unpleasant feelings would be just as strong.

But it didn’t take long to find you number and hand it over, and exchange more heated kisses and half promises before he slipped out.

The woman settled in her chair again, fingers tracing the letters of your name, the knot reforming below her breastbone. She reached for her phone, telling herself it was a courtesy, to give you a heads up.

When a player was about to steal second base, you always wondered if Santiago Garcia could tell, without even looking. If he could feel it in his bones, or if the hairs on the back his neck rose, against his sweat.

If he could, that was exactly how you would feel now, walking into the bar to see only Tom Davis waiting for you. The building was dim, strategically chosen by Will, allegedly, so they could drink in peace. As before however, there was no hiding the silhouette of a man like him, not when he was oozing confidence like sap from a tree.

When he had called you, it had been so shocking you had agreed without thinking. It was surreal, but like following a trail of candy through a forest, not at all like the knights in shining armor of before.

He swung his arm around, cocky smile across his face, and you shook his hand.

There could not have been a more awkward boundary made, but he laughed it off as you considered turning tail and running. It was ridiculous, but you couldn’t help how guarded you felt alone with him, so you turned to the polished woof of the bar and ordered a lemonade. It would buy you time, anyway, to reassess.

You had always thought of baseball players as beer guys, but he had a short glass of something gold and expensive, as if he were trying to prove a point. Slipping onto the stool next to him, you set your bag in between you like a wall. He was broad and he pulled close, making you almost press against his side, giving you the opportunity to realize his skin almost cold. Slow sips reminded you that there was no basis for your feelings, and you were the one being strange.

It wasn’t bad, talking to him. You chided yourself internally, thinking you made unfair assumptions. Really, he was a nice guy. He talked highly of his friends, even defending their lateness, taking the blame for the mix-up. It felt like one of those interviews your grandfather would watch sometimes, the way he could go on about himself and somehow tell you nothing at all. Fighting your instincts to give short, guarded answers, you found yourself sharing about your life more than you expected. Not a lot, but not nothing either.

It was awkward and nice, not unlike a first date and when his large hand covered yours, it didn’t feel half as slimy as before.

A spider’s web was feather-light, so subtle it was almost impossible to feel until it was too late.

His eyes were sharp and deep and certain as he shifted closer, and you felt dazed, despite all the alcohol you hadn’t consumed.

When he leaned in, though, a thought struck you. With his deep hazel eyes, the perfect beard, and tanned skin, he looked like a prince. Not our prince, though, it was just someone else’s fairytale.

Clarity and your own confidence warmed you like a jacket one rainy day, and you touched Tom’s cheek, holding his face at enough of a distance. You shed the web before it stuck and something flickered in his eyes – doubt, maybe, or something like fear, as you spoke the most prominent thought on your mind.

“What about Molly?”

When he heard you, again speaking words that weren't meant for his ears, warm pride shot through his chest.

That’s my girl.

Of course you weren’t, but it felt like you were.

You turned to him like you knew he was there, hand leaving Tom’s stunned face to wave at the grinning catcher.

Frankie had been at war with himself across the bar as he looked towards the two of you, heart wrenching. He had seen from the far side the room first how close you were to the other man. It was unreasonably terrifying to see that you weren't immune, to see you consider his friend. Then he saw how non responsive you’d become to Redfly, how politely you regarded him as he lathered on the charm. By the time he reached the two of you, he found you fully awake, handling it yourself.

When the woman had called you, her voice had betrayed something. It was formal conversation, just admitting she had shared your contact information, and disclosing that it was Tom, and he’d made it clear you guys were friends. Her tone, however, told you she was territorial and jealous, but also desperate, longing. It felt right to get out of the way – that’s what you and she wanted and you sort of thought that’s actually what he wanted, too. He was moving away from you, still processing, trying to play off the moment, and even more than pity, you felt a touch sad for them.

Still, you were impressed you were able to manage yourself. It was the same confidence that had filled you when you stood up for James, a confidence that came from a feeling that whispered something good was coming, something well worth the boldness.

When you felt a warm presence at your side, you felt even more sure. It felt wonderful, the way Francisco was looking at you. It was too early to read into it, but you were sure you wanted him to look at you like that again - like you were capable of telling mountains to move.

You smiled up at him, relieved, and he couldn’t help but beam back, wanting to hug you. He wasn’t feeling quite brave enough yet, but there was a resolve settling in his heart. There was no way he was going to leave your side tonight.

The other guys came quickly. Each of them was excited to see you again, and you pretended not to notice them shooting confused glances at Redfly when he slipped outside to spit on the ground and stare at the sky.

It didn’t take long for him to rejoin you, anyway, and his shoulders seemed lighter, his eyes just a little more thoughtful.

The group as a whole accepted you into their fold like they needed you, like each one of them had missed you when you were gone, like you missed them, like you belonged there from the start.

You had no idea how long the daydream would last, but in that moment it didn’t feel like it mattered at all. Collecting stories for James even faded as a priority as you just enjoyed the feeling of the glass in your hands, the laughter in the air, and teasing the men like they were just boys. Even after the last half hour, it was easy to trust Will’s sincere tone, and Ben’s eager blue eyes. The others were grounded at your side, steady and comforting - you felt yourself open like a flower to the sun.

There was something about the shape of the catcher at your side, safe and warm, like his presence was reaching for yours, aching with yours. Through the stories and the jokes you relished it, and his eyes made it clear that you weren’t alone. And even though the universe made it abundantly clear that you had no idea what would happen next, you didn’t feel any need to hurry. Fate seemed to know what she was doing.

In the darkness of the bar, only Santiago’s eyes saw Frankie’s hand find the small of your back.

taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @beautyagegoodnesssize

hey batter batter taglist:

@icanbeyourjedi @studyofawearymind @hnt-escape @athalien

#francisco morales #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x you #frankie x you #frankie x reader #catfish x you #triple frontier #baseball au #triple frontier baseball au #hey batter batter #maybe i don't know people

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tendertokyo · 4 years ago

Text

Hi hello

because the n in nct stands for nicotine, i will now read you what kind of smoker aura each of the boys in neo city has, as the chain smoker that i am. no one asked for this and i don't care, i just wanna see how many people agree with me lol.

(this is all for shits and giggles, don't take this too seriously, i am but a simple moron in this fandom of clownery)

taeil: tried to hit on a female woman once at some small get-together or smth, she offered him a cig, he took one drag to get on her good side and violently coughed his lungs out rip

taeyong: i feel like he smokes weed on his own every once in a while, purely to have a cathartic cry session

johnny: king of tobacco and weed, tell me i'm wrong. he is the reason all this crap started, he's that one chaotic evil friend who just offers you to try shit at parties. has made his own bong and loves it the way you'd love your family pet. cackles evilly when stoned and plants stupid ideas into everyone's heads, teaches everyone how to blow smoke rings

yuta: he buys a pack every now and then, prefers to smoke in company rather than on his own. loves a good old cig after sex though (as the triple scorpio that he is)

kun: doesn't smoke, but if he did let's face it he'd chainsmoke like a motherfucker from all that yangyanghenderychenle induced stress

doyoung: this man is so done, he doesn't give a fuck anymore. smokes those ultra thin mom cigarettes and holds them real bitchy. try to fight him, he dares you

ten: doesn't smoke. doesn't like the smell sticking to his hair

jaehyun: jeffrey y'all... we ain't even gonna talk about him smh... weed/vape combo that's all i have to say... dumbass fried half his braincells off lmao screwdriver lookin ass

winwin: doesn't smoke, lowkey judges people who do

jungwoo: confirmed he smokes, knows he looks hot while doing it. looks like he rolls tobacco but can't be sure. if he does, props to him because tobacco kicks industrial cigarette ass. king shit

lucas: also a confirmed smoker, 100% does it to look cool. doesn't hold the smoke in his lungs long enough and immediately blows it out but who cares, he looks sexy as shit. holds it all manly cause he likes it when bitches look at his hands

mark: i feel like morky mork didn't smoke at first but then he debuted 4 fucking times and was just like eh fuck it. my manz loves weed and has this weird aura of highly functioning stoner. has weird ass flavoured rolling papers. will bum a cig off of someone if he's stressed

xiaojun: doesn't smoke, never really wanted to

hendery: listen if you told me this boy tried crack i'd believe you. do i believe he smokes weed, of course i do. makes excellent brownies and that's all he can do well in the kitchen

renjun: this one has a level of rage within himself that can only point to marlboro red touch, i don't care. takes really aesthetic pics of himself while smoking to show how "artsy depressed" he is

jeno: doesn't smoke. is the friend who cleans out the ashtray when it gets too full god bless him

haechan: he's the guy who tries to prove to everyone that he smokes like a boss even though he isn't a smoker, better at holding in smoke than lucas but has no idea how to hold the damn cig in his hand, wants to impress johnny his devoted father

jaemin: rarely smokes weed but when he does it has to be in a big circle with all his friends, calls it "bonding time" and uses the excuse of being stoned to kiss and cuddle everyone despite their refusal, makes up really weird topics to talk about, at one point will just zone out and stare at the ceiling for 10 mins

yangyang: haechan 2.0, everyone thinks he's a stoner but he isn't, peer pressured into it every time but doesn't mind 'cause he thinks it fits his street cred

shotaro & sungchan: can't tell, i don't know much about them

chenle: johnny's number one student and you can't tell me otherwise. has like 7 "guys" around town he's on first name basis with. fucking weed connoisseur, can roll a perfect blunt in less than a minute. fuck i wanna smoke with him sooo bad, he'd be so much fun. wants to do stupid shit when high, not allowed access to the kitchen or the balcony for that reason. prefers tobacco over industrial cigs 'cause he's the main character

jisung: wants to try smoking weed but too anxious to actually do it. loves watching everyone else get stoned though, thinks it's hilarious

thank you for coming to my tedtalk

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johannstutt413 · 4 years ago

Text

(requested by mathmaticalknight; continuing from this)

As Tomimi settled into her seat for the Tail Club meeting, and Provence took a breath to start talking, a pair of small hands knocked on the door. The group turned their attention to the door as the Lupo went forward with the whole “speaking” thing. “Yes?”

“The posters said this is a club for people with tails?” Suzuran peeked around the door. “I have a lot of tails, and I have some questions about it.”

“Morti thought I should come, too,” Shamare said, also peering around the door. She’d actually come because Suzuran had invited her, but that wasn’t the point.

The trio (including a sort-of-visible Manticore) set about adding some more seats to their circle, but as they did, there was another knock. “Hey, I saw a poster for a ‘Tail Club.’ Is this enough tail to join?” Pramanix’s mound of Feline floof slapped the threshold as she walked into view.

“Sure!” Provence gestured to the chair circle. “We’re working on widening the circle right now, but we’re pretty sure we have enough chairs for everyone.”

“We brought a few just in case!” Blemishine replied to an unverbalized question as she, her sister, and her aunt walked in as well. Tripling in the span of one meeting...what a turnout!

The club leader, once everyone was settled in, stood up to address them. “Wow. Um, first, I’m glad everyone could make it! We’ll go around the room and get everyone’s names, but before we do, I just want to make sure we’re all on the same page. I know Manty’s cute poster calls us ‘Tail Club,’ but we’re not an after-school club or something; we’re a support group and an activist group more than anything, in that we lobby the Doctor and the rest of leadership on behalf of the needs of Operators, ourselves included, with tails that are especially cumbersome, high-maintenance, or just...big. Alright, with that out of the way, I’m Provence! Hi! I’m the president, I guess, of the Tail Club, and no, it’s not because I have the biggest tail. We might actually do an election or something now that we have more members...hmm. We’ll figure it out! Alright, right or left, you two pick.”

“I-I’ll go...” Manticore stood up as the Lupo sat down. “I’m the club’s...vice-president. If you have...any questions, you can...come and find me, or...you can tell Estelle or Tomimi...and they’ll find me...and then I’ll find you...Thank you...”

“Codename’s Whislash, but go on ahead and call me Zofia. Brought myself and my sisters with me when I saw the poster because, well, we’ve got fluffy business in the back and wanna be in solidarity with similar folks. It’s neat to see all kinds of tail- what are you giggling about, Maria?”

Blemishine didn’t stifle her laughter as she took her turn. “Nothing, aun- ‘sis.’ Maria ‘Blemishine’ Nearl at your service!”

“And I am Margaret ‘Nearl’ Nearl.” She smiled at the repetition. “Thank you for taking the initiative and starting this group, Provence; the wider thresholds have already saved me at least one embarrassing entrapment.”

“No problem, but Tomimi’s the one to thank for that one.” The president gestured to the Archosaurian, who gave a little wave as everyone else in the room clapped.

Suzuran waited for the applause to subside before taking her turn. “Good afternoon. I’m Lisa, or Suzuran, as you like. I have a lot of tails, which is like having one big tail, and I saw the poster and thought my friend Shamare might want some help, too. Isn’t that right, Shamare?”

“Um...Yeah.” The Vulpo’s misdirection had been foiled, so she just carried on. “Morti’s gonna sit with me, even though he doesn’t have a big tail, because he’ll remember if I forget what we talk about. He likes being in the same room as priestesses, too.”

“Your doll understands flattery, then. That’s interesting. Anya ‘Pramanix’ Silverash, Karlan Saintess and in need of some tail care advice - I’m getting tired of shedding fur on corners. I’ll help if I can, too, but most of you have a lot more to worry about than me, it looks like.” It was actually kind of humbling for the Feline to sit in a room with so many people with Tails of Unusual Size. Hers was fluffy and silky smooth, true, but just look at the Archosaurian.

The Archosaurian whose turn it was, in fact. “Hi. I’m Tomimi, and that’s the only name I have. I came here for help, and Provence and Manty have been really helpful, and they’re really nice, so I keep coming back. Let’s, uh...Let’s all get along!” She learned that one from Young Things Magazine.

“Thank you, Tommy!” Provence clapped her hands; she could already tell she was going to enjoy this ‘proper president’ thing. “Alright, first order of business for our first-timers: what problems are you having? Anya, you mentioned yours a bit already, so would you be willing to start?”

“Oh, sure. I’ve always had a fluffy tail, and it’s pretty versatile, but there’s this one thing that’s always bugged me about it...”

After going around the room, sharing some tips and tricks for better grooming, and even breaking off into groups for tail-brushing time (Zofia suggested it, and everyone liked the sound of it), the meeting adjourned after a productive two-hour session. Suzuran found a broom to sweep up the sheddings (including scales from Tomimi - she was nearly done with her shedding cycle, but not quite), and Shamare waited for her in a chair near the entrance, whispering to Morti. Tomimi approached her, curious. “Shamare?”

“Hmm?” The harbinger frowned. “It’s rude to interrupt a conversation.”

“You can hear him?” She leaned in, trying to catch its voice.

The Vulpo pulled back into the upholstery. “I can. Do you want to?”

“I don’t think so.” The Caster sat on the floor in front of her. “Is he nice?”

“He takes the bad feelings away, and he likes talking to people.” She rubbed his head, and Tomimi could’ve sworn the stitched smile curled a little more.

That convinced her. “Did you make Morti?”

“No,” Shamare replied, “but I did give him his body.”

“Could you make a doll for me to give to my girlfriend? I don’t want her to be lonely when she’s busy in her office.”

The oracle blinked. “You want me to do that?”

“Mmhmm.” The Archosaurian gave her a toothy smile. “I like your style.”

“...Okay, but you have to get me the stuffing. My doctor found out I stuffed Morti with Originum and she wasn’t happy, but I need something to put in your doll.” The Vulpo didn’t want to blush, but it seemed Morti didn’t feel like intervening for her.

Suzuran skipped over to the pair, sweeping finished. “Hi, Tommy! Ready to go, Shamare?”

“One more thing.” She hopped off her chair. “Can I have one of your scales?”

“Okay.” The Caster lifted her tail and smacked the ground; a small tremor shook their immediate vicinity, and several scales fell off.

Shamare took a few, put the rest in the bucket her friend had filled while sweeping, and nodded to Tomimi. “I’ll bring your doll to the next meeting.”

“Thanks.” She watched the pair leave, cocking her head. ‘Those two are like opposites...Just like Gav and me.’

“Well, I didn’t meet any cute bachelors, but the tail talk is super nice,” Whislash noted as the Nearls packed up their chairs.

Provence chuckled. “Is that why you really came, Zofia?”

“M-maybe.” She sighed. “Look, I don’t like making a big deal out of it, since I’m only the eldest by a couple years, but it’s getting harder to find my kind of guy out in the wild. You have someone special?”

“Sure do! My girlfriend and I met here at Rhodes Island, actually.”

The Kuranta’s ears perked up as her nieces left her to her conversation; they had other stuff to do, especially while she was distracted. “Girlfriend? That’s okay here?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Then the Lupo remembered where the Nearls were from. “Oh, right, you’re from Kazimierz. Yeah, RI doesn’t discriminate like some other companies...or governments, either.”

“Huh...You, uh, know anyone on the market? They don’t even have to be that cute.” Saying the words out loud made her blush.

The Sniper smiled as she slipped her phone out of her pocket. “Actually, I think I know just the person. Walk and talk?”

“Sure!” Whislash’s tail swished behind her as she turned to leave, glowing a bit. “Ooh, there’s a movie playing tonight I’ve been wanting to see, if they like that kinda thing.”

“You can ask them - I’m sending you their number now.” Provence looked back as she passed the light switch; Tomimi was still there, so she left them on.

Manty was, too, although the Lupo had missed her at a glance; after all, they had a double date themselves...the Manticore needed her girlfriend to bear witness to the thicc she was exposed to on a daily basis. It just wasn’t fair. “Hey, Tommy...why do you think...everyone started coming today? We’ve had posters...for a couple weeks now.”

“Oh, Gav started telling people about it, too.” The Archosaurian was still seated in front of the chair. “Estelle is an Archosaurian, isn’t she?”

“She is...Why do you ask?”

The Caster looked back at her tail. “In my village, there’s a lot of arguing about which is better - big or small tails. I wonder if other Archosaurians have that debate, too.”

...The Specialist had a feeling she knew the answer to that.

#arknights #arknights fic #tomimi (arknights)#provence (arknights)#manticore (arknights)#blemishine (arknights)#shamare (arknights)#suzuran (arknights)#whislash (arknights)#nearl (arknights)#pramanix (arknights)#don't ya just love a tag cloud #nice to see a lot of rare names in it #shamare's on my mind now #gonna e2 her next #for teh funz

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buck-buck-boose · 4 years ago

Text

I'll Love You 'Til I Die

Masterlist | Playlist

Summary: A Brooklyn schoolgirl fell in love with James Buchanan Barnes at the tender age of nine. With this love she made a vow, promising to love him until her very last breath.

Pairing: Bucky x OFC

Warnings: language, mentions of violence and gore (not too graphic)

Word Count: 3.4k

Author's Note: The story is starting to pick up pace again ;)

Chapter Twenty: The Recruits

March 18, 1943

In the two months following the nurses’ success with the serum, Camp Lehigh had nearly tripled in its inhabitants. Throughout their research and training, the five women were surrounded by fuddy-duddy sergeant majors and their crotchety commanders, with Agent Carter as their only equal; by the end of January, hundreds of recruits were being shipped in. The base seemed to be teeming with fresh-faced boys who thought not of the unforgiving grip of death, but of the blazing glory of victory— the gore and trauma of war meant little to them, but Lottie knew that she would have an intimate relationship with the horrors of war.

Sometimes all she dreamt of was blood. Blood on her hands, on her white dress, and oozing in puddles beneath her feet; the crimson color seemed to stain every inch of her skin, streaking her pale flesh with a sickeningly deep red. She told no one about her dreams because they seemed so foolish to her. Lottie hadn’t experienced a day in fieldwork, and here she was having these nightmares about the gore of war.

The ambient sounds of Camp Lehigh drew her out of her thoughts and grounded her.

Lottie was standing alone, rather dazedly, outside of the nurses’ barracks, observing all the commotion surrounding the recruits. She was still getting used to the chaotic environment that unfolded around her; everywhere she looked, there were lines of marching soldiers, followed hotly by shouting commanders, or trucks careening around buildings, as if always running late for some rendezvous. Gone were the days of picnicking in the grass and basking in the sun— the base was now all hustle and bustle, with little time for leisure.

All the activity had thrown a wrench into her combat training; Agent Carter had been training her on an individual basis with both firearms and knives, but the soldiers now needed more training than she did. Lottie had become more than proficient in the use of her M1911, which left her wanting to learn more. On the advice of Agent Carter, she’d taken up the KA-BAR and they had begun training with the knife only a few weeks prior. She was more than a little disappointed by the abrupt end to their training, but Lottie understood that training the men who would be doing the actual fighting was the higher priority. The one saving grace of Camp Lehigh was that the base was outfitted with two obstacle courses for physical training so the nurses could continue their exercises each morning. Although their combat training was put on hold, they could continue preparing their bodies for the stress of war.

A distinctly male voice interrupted her train of thought— was that a Brooklyn accent she heard?

“Hey sugar! You rationed?”

Lottie blinked for a moment and looked to her right. A group of men stood outside their own barracks, sharing a pack of cigarettes. She easily identified the man who’d spoken by the way he smiled at her; it was the same charming, lopsided grin that she’d seen on Bucky’s face countless times. His brilliantly blond hair caused a tug at her heartstrings; it was almost the same shade as Steve’s. That’s where the resemblance stopped, though; his eyes were a chestnut brown and his build was sturdier.

Lottie didn’t move from her spot, “Is that your way of asking if a lady’s got a fella waiting for her back home?”

The soldier’s grin only seemed to grow at the sound of her own Brooklyn accent, “A Brooklyn gal, eh? A woman after my own heart. What’s your name, doll?”

“I’m Lottie Green. But that’s Lieutenant Green to you, Private.” She smirked, relishing in her title. The year before, Congress had authorized the promotion of Army nurses to the ranks of Second Lieutenant, granting them positions of power in a largely male environment.

The soldier ambled over to her, flicking the ashes from the butt of his cigarette.

“Ah, so you’re one of those girls they hired to patch us up, then? I always knew there’d be choirs of angels when I died, but I didn’t know they’d send ‘em to fix us up when we’re wasting away.” He was a flirt, that was for sure, but she felt a pang of annoyance at his belittling of her profession

She wasn’t just some ‘girl’ who was shipped out to slap Band-Aids on his scratches and send him on his way with a pat on the head. She’d spent the last year of her life dedicated to formulating the perfect Super Soldier Serum. Lottie was a woman— a powerful woman who would one day hold the lives of so many men in her hands.

Lottie mustered up a wry smile, “While I haven’t got a fella back home, Private, a medic tent isn’t exactly ideal for courtship, is it?”

Without waiting for a response, she departed and made her way toward the obstacle course that was currently in use. Dr. Erskine had requested that the nurses of Project Rebirth be present for some of the recruits’ training sessions since they would be the best opportunities to scout out candidates for America’s first Super Soldier. These candidates would not only need to be physically capable but also morally incorruptible. An aspect of the serum that was discussed briefly was how it had amplified Schmidt’s already malicious personality; if they made the same mistake by administering it to a man of morally questionable character, they could have another failure on their hands.

When Lottie neared the obstacle course, she caught the tail end of Colonel Phillips’ speech to this batch of recruits.

“—but every army starts with one man. At the end of this week, we will choose that man. He will be the first in a new breed of Super Soldiers.”

Lottie barely had time to glance at the recruits who were lined up a handful of yards away from her. A clipboard had been thrust into her hands, stacked with papers that listed the soldiers’ names, dates of birth, and measurements. She scanned the pages, barely registering any information due to the sheer amount of it; it was too overwhelming to process properly.

“I heard Colonel Phillips has taken a real liking to Gilmore Hodge,” Gladys whispered, shuffling her papers.

Betty made a disapproving noise, “Agent Carter socked that guy in the kisser. No way in hell he’s our guy.”

“I agree!” Mary piped up, “His moral character is real atrocious.”

Nancy seemed to be torn, “He is the most promising recruit thus far. Sure, he’s gotta work on his manners, but gosh, even his measurements set him apart from the rest.”

Lottie hummed in thought and finally looked up to watch the recruits in action, her eyes narrowed. For the most part, the soldiers got through the net climbing efficiently and descended the other side with ease, but a particular recruit was struggling to get a sure footing in the netting. Her heart started pounding in her ears— she knew that build, that stature. It couldn’t be, he’d been rejected at the enlistment. Sure enough, the soldier lost his footing and fell with his other foot still caught in the ropes.

Lottie’s breath caught in her throat as she stared at the flushed face of one of her childhood best friends. In the distance, she could hear a sergeant berating him for his clumsiness, but her attention could not be torn away from his face. She was at a loss as to what to do; he obviously hadn’t seen her but she couldn’t call out to him to get his attention, as that would land him in more trouble than he was already in.

“Poor guy,” Mary murmured, wincing in sympathy. It seemed that she’d also noticed the trouble that Steve had been having.

“Yeah,” Lottie replied lamely, biting at her lip in anxious thought.

What would she even say to him if he saw her? Would he even acknowledge her? She knew she’d just about die if she had to undergo a silent treatment from Steve. But she deserved it, she was sure. There wasn’t a day that had gone by where she didn’t think of her boys back home. She often found herself lying in bed late at night, staring at the ceiling and listening to the breathing patterns of the other nurses in the barracks. Lottie would roll her lucky penny between her fingers and think of her best friends back home. Were they asleep? Or out at the dance hall again, trying to woo some women into a couple of dates for the next night? She prayed nightly for their safety; their safekeeping. It was a fool’s prayer, she knew— it was a war, after all. But that never stopped her from begging God on high to protect her most beloved friends.

The commotion of the obstacle course had died down, but the yells of the sergeants had not died down; it seemed that they were to continue their training elsewhere.

Betty noticed Lottie’s lost look, “They’re having ‘em run the trail.” She gestured to the tree line where they would usually do their morning runs.

Gladys looked over her clipboard, “I think it’d be best if we head back to the mess hall and grab a bite to eat. We can talk all of this,” she gestured to their clipboards, stacked high with papers, “once we’ve all got full stomachs and clear minds. I hope you all took notes, ‘cause I sure did!”

Lottie was silent on the way to the mess hall, still reeling from the fact that Steve had somehow been recruited for the military. There had to have been some mistake; he’d most likely spend more time in her medic tent than on the battlefield. Running into battle would have him hospitalized even before an enemy could manage to hit him.

They sat in their usual spot at the back of the mess hall, at a table in the corner that had been pushed up against a wall; it kept them out of the way and allowed them a sense of privacy from the other staff members. Lottie absentmindedly peeled at an orange while she listened to the conversation of her friends.

“If we can’t have Hodge for the serum, I think Johnson might be a promising guy!”

Betty laughed, “Do you really think that or do you just like the way he looks in his fatigues, Mary?”

“Gosh, I just think they bring out the green in his eyes! Either way, he’s certainly got the build for it.”

“He’s such a knucklehead, though. He couldn’t figure out the proper way to hold his rifle while he went under the barbed wire. He was practically dragging it through the mud by its strap.” Betty rolled her eyes, unimpressed with the performances of most of the men during training.

There was some continued discussion on the topic, but it was interrupted by the entrance of dozens of soldiers. They needed no introduction, as the sounds of their hoots and hollers, as well as the aroma of their body odor, heralded their arrival at the mess hall. Lottie shot to her feet, unable to stop herself from searching the sea of men for a scrawny man with too much pluck for his own good. The men milled about as they grabbed trays of food and seated themselves, loudly conversing about the training they’d just experienced.

Finally, Lottie’s eyes locked with those of a scrawny blond guy who looked as if he’d just seen a ghost. He was all the way at the other end of the mess hall, but that didn’t matter, she rushed to him as quickly as she could. She so desperately wanted to hug him before he could turn and run from her. She knew that her silly display was surely catching the attention of other soldiers, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to care; she hadn’t seen one of her best friends in over a year, dammit! She walked quickly between the tables to where he stood by the food line.

“Stevie,” Lottie choked out, crushing him in a tight hug. Tears threatened to escape her eyes, but she refused to make a scene in front of half of the recruits.

“Lottie I—” Steve began, “I dunno what to say. Why are you here? Why did you lie?”

He asked the questions with such earnest bewilderment, with sincere sorrow that nearly destroyed Lottie. He didn’t seem angry with her at all; he was instead deeply hurt, and it was all because of her. When she pulled away from their embrace, she saw the pain in his eyes and recognized it— it was the same pain she had felt when thinking of Steve and Bucky, praying for their safety.

Lottie was becoming acutely aware of the attention they were attracting but that was the least of her concerns at the moment. If Colonel Phillips caught wind of their little embrace, he would surely berate her about relationships with the soldiers, as he couldn’t fathom the idea of a platonic relationship between a nurse and one of his men. She would deal with that situation at a later time. At that moment, Lottie knew that an apology and explanation were long overdue. She planned on apologizing to him sincerely in private, but she knew that an explanation could not wait.

She grabbed Steve’s wrist and pulled him towards the table at the back of the hall, “Please trust me, Steve. I can explain everything, but I’m gonna need their help.” Lottie jerked her head in the direction of the other nurses, “What I did was real crummy of me, I know, and I’ll apologize over and over until the day I die, but I promise that it needed to be done. The girls over here will help me explain it all so you can understand.”

“Well, who do we have here?” Betty questioned as they approached, arching a carefully plucked brow.

Steve awkwardly shifted his weight and shoved his hands in his pockets, obviously intimidated by her steady gaze and cool demeanor, “Steve Rogers, ma’am.”

Mary’s eyes lit up, “One of Lottie’s Brooklyn boys! Now do tell me, where is Private Barnes? Because I absolutely must meet the man that our Lottie is so infa—”

Before she could finish her sentence, Gladys kicked her shin under the table and answered the question for Steve, “I’ve looked through every file Dr. Erskine has given to us and there’s no Private Barnes here.”

Lottie shot Gladys a grateful smile, albeit a weak one. She cleared her throat and addressed the group of women before her, “I promised Steve here that I’d explain why I fell off the face of the Earth for a solid year, but I’ll need your help filling in all the details.”

It took nearly an hour to catch Steve up on all the events of the past year. The nurses gave him as much information as they could, though there was certain classified information that they were privy to— the formula for the Super Soldier Serum —but could not be shared with anyone outside of Project Rebirth. Steve interrupted regularly to pose questions about different aspects of their research, obviously invested in all the work they’d done for Dr. Erskine and Mr. Stark. When they recounted their experiences testing the prototype serum on various tissue samples, he went a sickly shade of green, so they quickly ended that train of thought. They glossed over the details of how they finished the serum and their discovery of how Vita-Ray Radiation affected its ingredients. His brow seemed to furrow exponentially with every scientific term used

“And that’s the skinny on what we’ve been up to for the past year,” Gladys finished, holding back a giggle at Steve’s overwhelmed facial expression.

“Thank you, ladies,” Lottie smiled and rose from her seat, gesturing for Steve to follow, “Steve and I are gonna step outside for a moment.” She led him across the mess hall and outside; they came to a stop after they rounded the corner of the building. She stood against the wall, fidgeting with the hem of her jacket sleeve.

“Stevie, I owe you an apology. After the attacks I just knew that the world would go to shit,” Lottie felt her eyes start to water, “and well— it’s my job as a nurse to save lives, y’know? I couldn’t just stay home and twiddle my thumbs while everyone else went to take care of our boys overseas. And I know Bucky made me promise not to and all that, but I’d already enlisted. I knew if I told him the truth, we’d fight, and I’d have left you two on a really sour note, which isn’t what I wanted at all.”

“So, you decided it would be better to lie about going to your parents’ for Christmas and leave the two of us wondering for months?” Steve’s tone wasn’t scathing but the question still cut deep.

Lottie sniffled and knew that there was little she could do to hold back the tide of tears that would surely start flowing, “I was being horribly selfish; I knew it would hurt the both of you but I was just so afraid and uncertain about it all. I knew you two would get real concerned for me and I just didn’t want that. Plus, you have to understand, Stevie, when I enlisted, they offered me a position in a high-level government organization. I couldn’t tell anyone about my whereabouts or where I would be going— all I could say was that I would be training for the Nurse Corps. It wasn’t fully my choice to keep these things from you and Bucky; it would’ve been risky to tell anyone about the SSR or what I would be doing for them. I know you two would’ve been good about keeping it a secret, but I was still so afraid, Steve. I didn’t want to let the SSR down, so I guess that meant I had to let you two down instead.” She stared at her shoes, letting the tears roll down her cheeks and fall to the dirt below.

“Thank you for telling me the truth, Lottie. It really hurt me when I realized you weren’t coming back. I understand where you were coming from, though I don’t agree with what you did. I forgive you, but Bucky— he, well,” Steve shook his head sadly, “You should’ve seen him when he got back from bootcamp and you weren’t at the station, Lottie. Worried out of his mind, he was. I’d written to your folks a month or so earlier; it was mid-January so I knew something was up. They told me you’d joined the Corps, but didn’t know where you’d been sent. I told him everything I’d learned and he hasn’t been the same since; he was always on edge. Even the night before he was shipped out to England, when we went out with Bonnie and Connie—”

“England?” Lottie’s voice was weak with disbelief. She shouldn’t have been surprised, he was going to be deployed at some point, after all. Somehow, it still hit her like a punch to the gut.

She held onto the hope that they were at least exchanging letters to check in with each other. “Have you kept in contact with him at least?”

“I didn’t think to get an address before he left.” Steve muttered, digging the toe of his boat into the dirt in front of him.

“Dammit,” Lottie hissed and wiped away hot tears that continued to stream from her eyes. She was utterly helpless and could do nothing about it; she had no way of contacting Bucky to make sure he was safe. For all she knew, he could be one of those men bleeding in a medic tent— lying limply in a cot that was not his, thousands of miles away from home. She could only hope that he had a kind nurse that would wipe the sweat from his brow and murmur soothing sounds that would remind him of home.

At Camp Lehigh, Lottie was constantly reminded of home. She saw Bucky in every soldier she met, whether it be through their personality, charm, or looks, they all served as a reminder of him. When it came down to it, neither Massachusetts nor Brooklyn was home to her— it was only Bucky that she could truly call home.

And as their time apart continued to drag on, she realized that she was beginning to feel terribly homesick.

#40s!bucky x original female character #40s!bucky x ofc #40s!bucky #1940s bucky #bucky fluff #bucky fanfic #bucky x ofc #bucky x original female character #bucky fic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes series #ilytid

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r3almellow · 5 years ago

Text

MLQC Boys And The Domestic Life

I kept this as PG-13 as possible. You guys know I can be a little...naughty with my HC’s but I know that isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, so I try not to do too much. I apologize if you were hoping something else! Apologies for the typos and such!

Warning: Slight Spoilers for those who know nothing about their backstories or current events!

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Kiro

Kiro’s life is crazy enough as it is, so coming home to you is a nice change of pace. No cameras flashing in his face, no overly excited fans, and no manager to hound him about what he can and can’t eat. It’s just you and him just the way he likes it.

Your boy is a gamer and will always try to pull you into whatever he’s playing.

He will buy a lot of two player games just so you can play with him.

If its a single player game you enjoy watching him play! He’ll even offer to teach you how to play!

Since he’s also a huge fan of comics he’ll talk your ear off about them!

Bonus points if you’re a comic book lover and/or a gamer too!

Will fall even more in love with you if you go out of your way to buy things he’s interested in.

“I got you this limited edition Iron Man statue! Like it?”

He’ll marry you right then and there!

Kiro is very playful so expect tons of play fights! Tickle fights, pillow fights, and wrestling which...turns into....you know....

Kiro enjoys going grocery shopping with you. Of course he has to be in disguise in order to shop with you in peace, but he enjoys the company while he buys things that would get him into trouble with Savin.

However, Savin has nothing to worry about when it comes to Kiro’s eating habits, because while you’re pretty lenient with Kiro and often him join his mischievous activities, you do a great job with following his diet routine.

You’ll sometimes join him on his diets to support him. Its hard on you, especially when the sight of french fries makes your mouth water.

“See, honey, drinking a protein shake isn’t so bad!”

“But I want a milkshake, barbecued ribs and a nice juicy burger!!!!” Poor baby just wants to eat!

You’re normally the one that cooks mainly because Kiro never has time to do it himself and almost always settles for something quick or whatever his nutritionist shoves down his throat. If he does have time off you both cook together.

If Kiro ends up breaking his diet you join him on his workouts. Kiro doesn’t mind because there’s something about you being all sweaty and panting heavily that really gets him going.

“I’m sweaty and gross...”

“What a coincidence?! I’m all sweaty and gross too! Lets take a shower together.”

In the bedroom, Kiro is definitely a cuddler and it doesn’t matter who cuddles first as long as he can feel you against him.

Because of his busy schedule Kiro becomes extremely needy. Both in the sexual and non-sexual sense. He hates being away from you for too long and calls you almost everyday while he’s away.

He’ll be in the middle of rehearsals while FaceTiming you and Savin is like “BOY IF YOU DON’T STOP WITH THAT PUPPY LOVE BS AND FINISH THIS DANCE NUMBER I’LL...”

If your relationship isn’t public yet, Kiro won’t do too much, but he will steal kisses when he thinks no one is looking. You two have been caught fooling around by Savin a few times, which always ends with him scolding you both.

But once you go public, EXPECT TONS OF KISSES AND HUGS ANYWHERE AND EVERYWHERE! THIS MAN DOESN’T CARE.

He wants the world to know how much he loves you and will continue to broadcast it until hell freezes over.

Will put his fans in their place if they try anything with you. Your sunshine ain’t afraid to lay down the law!

Top 3 Pet Names: Miss Chips, Honey, and Cutie. Honorable Mention: Cookie

Gavin

As you know, Gavin’s upbringing wasn’t exactly the best and seeing what his mom went through, he never wants to put you through that.

This man practically worships you! You’re everything he’s ever wanted in a partner so he’ll do anything to keep you in his life and happy.

Casual dates. Nothing too fancy unless its a special occasion like a birthday or maybe....a wedding proposal?!

Aside from that, Gavin’s pretty simple and often lets you take the lead which you find infuriating since you want him to have some sort of input in decision making when it comes to little things.

Gavin is the cook of the household mainly because you think he’s the better cook. If you make such claims, Gavin will always say that he prefers to eat whatever you make.

In bed, Gavin likes to hold you tightly from behind with his faced buried in your hair. His favorite position is where you’re hugging him and he has his head pressed against your chest. Its easier to hear your heartbeat that way.

If you stroke his hair while holding him then he’s a goner. He’ll be out like a light and you’ll just watch how adorable he looks sleeping against you.

Days where you’re both home are referred to as “Lazy Days.” You’ll sit around, do absolutely nothing, and enjoy each other’s company. You may wash Sparky after its gone through a full week of riding through the city, but sometimes the laziness is just too strong.

Doesn’t help when Gavin has you in his arms. The entire day can escape you when you’re in such a comfortable position.

As for PDA, this man doesn’t care who’s watching! If he feels like kissing you then he’ll kiss you and he’s all about hand holding. If you’re uncomfortable with such gestures then he’ll refrain from doing so.

Until you say otherwise, you will be getting a lot of affection out in the open! If people glare, then he’ll just glare right back and go back to loving on you.

Being in love with you and not caring what people think isn’t a crime, right?!

Obviously, he won’t do anything too wild, but Gavin can be a bit mischievous when he wants to be.

He’s not as bad as Kiro in the cheeky department, but a lot of the “accidental” touches aren’t accidents at all!

Always your protector. Is always up for kicking someone’s ass if they look at you funny. He’d go to jail for you or...at least make whatever he’s about to do look like an accident.

Clingy Baby #2!

When he’s gone for long periods of time, he clings on to you and never lets you go once he returns.

Holding you in his arms while you’re trying to cook, casually playing with your hands as the two of you watch TV, and heated make out sessions that often end in a night of passion.

No one would have guessed Gavin could turn into a touch starved crazy man. But could you blame him? The things he has to go through on missions really puts him in a mood. He needs your love and affection after a long mission.

Prefers to spoil you instead of the other way around, but let’s you pamper him. He hasn’t been shown any form of affection since his mother died, so bare with him!

Gavin has never told you this outright, but you’re the closest thing to a home he has ever had in a very long time. Wherever you are, he wants to be right by your side.

Top 3 Pet Names: Babe/Baby, Beautiful, and Angel

Victor

Victor loves taking you out whether its to nice restaurants or out of the country.

Has no problem dropping thousands on you because you deserve the world. You’ll have to tell him to calm down with how much he spoils you, but he most likely won’t listen.

Of course he’s not completely insane and has some level of restraint.

Ever the professional, there is a difference between how Victor treats you at work compared to when you’re home.

He always wants you to be at your best and doesn’t want you slacking off just because you’re with him.

At home, Victor is a way more affectionate with you. The first few times he pulled you in for a loving embrace or a kiss, you had to do a double take. This isn’t the cold-hearted CEO who picked a part your report and verbally ripped it to shreds just hours before!

Victor does most of the cooking, but if you want to help him he won’t complain. Just listen to the directions he gives you and he won’t critique you.

He does appreciate it when you cook for him. Sometimes you’ll wake up before him just to prepare a nice breakfast and his heart just swells at the sight of you doing your best to make scrambled eggs.

“Its a little runny, but edible.” Wow...thank’s, honey.

Victor loves taking you to Souvenir so he can cook for you. Lunch dates and dinner dates are sometimes had there.

Sleeping wise, Victor will entwine his fingers with yours and hold your hand over his chest as he sleeps on his back and you sleep on your side. He will never admit it, but he’s a big fan of being the big spoon especially after a night of intimacy.

Will teach you French if you ask! Will sometimes tease you by throwing out random French phrases and if you figure out what he says he’ll give you a reward!

TRIPLE POINTS IF YOU RESPOND BACK IN FRENCH. Leave him shook!

Your man is a workaholic! You sometimes have to convince him to sleep after he spends countless hours working. Even on his days off his eyes are either glued to his phone or his computer.

He’ll be reluctant, but he’ll drop whatever he’s doing if you’re adamant about him getting rest or spending time with you.

If he’s already in bed looking over paperwork you can just snuggle up to him to distract him from what he’s doing. Of course he’ll complain, but all of that stops the minute he wraps his arms around you.

Victor isn’t one for too much PDA, but he will do small things.

For example, you’ll be at a company event, he’ll squeeze your hand gently and kiss the back of it just to see you blush.

Speaking of events, you attend all of the banquets with him. Everyone knows who you are and who you’re with. They won’t dare try any funny business with you.

There is a big part of him that likes to brag about you to his business associates.

“They saved a dying company through hard work and determination, has to deal with me on a daily basis, and continues to persevere even when the odds are against them. They’re one of a kind.”

Top 3 Pet Names: Idiot/Dummy, Dear and Darling(Victor normally uses nicknames when you’re in an intimate setting and very rarely)

Lucien

Ever since he was young Lucien has known nothing but hardships and just how cruel and twisted the world was.

Having you in his life really changes his perspective on the world. Who would have thought that a man like him would have someone as precious as you in his life?

Your dates consist of art exhibits, aquariums, and picnics in the park. Honestly Lucien prefers private and more intimate dates with you. It gives him a chance to learn more about you and to really focus on you without the distraction of the outside world.

You cook together and its pretty much a perfect balance. You learn different recipes together and think of it as a bonding experience.

You often visit him on campus for lunch dates and to work on whatever project you’ve roped him into.

You’re not sure why, but his students practically adore you. You’ve heard them whisper about your future with the popular professor. Talks of marriage often fills the room whenever they catch wind of you being on campus for the day.

You find it embarrassing, but Lucien only laughs off the murmurs of his students.

They have active imaginations, but he’d be a liar if he said he didn’t think of spending the rest of his life with you.

Lucien is fine with PDA. He’ll hold your hand and give you gentle kisses. He’ll tease you a lot!! There’s never a time where he doesn’t have you blushing.

He enjoys catching you off guard! Lucien will even go as far as to steal a quick kiss while you’re rambling about how much stress you’re under with work.

Lucien’s favorite thing to do with you is to relax in a nice warm bubble bath. It only turns steamy 70% of the time but Lucien truly enjoys little intimate moments like that with you.

When it comes to sleeping, Lucien really likes it when you’re sleeping against him with your head on his chest and he has an arm around your torso.

He also likes listening to your steady breaths as you sleep. There’s something soothing about how calm you sound in your most vulnerable state. He sleeps a thousand times better when you’re with him.

Lucien appreciates how accepting you are of him despite the fact that he’s done a lot of harm in the past.

You trust that Lucien will never hurt you and while he knows this, he sometimes feels like he has a lot to prove.

Deceiving you is his biggest regret and if you continue to love him, Lucien will devote his life to making you happy.

Top 3 Pet Names: My Little Fool, Love, and Silly

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Done! I really hope you like it! Want to read more of my stuff?! Please go to my MLQC masterlist here!

#mlqc #mlqc gavin #mlqc kiro #mlqc victor #mlqc lucien #mr love queens choice

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wanderinginksplot · 4 years ago

Note

Loved your Hondo and Aurra one, can you write something with cad bane being enamored by a new bounty Hunter or something of the like?

Okay, so this ended up almost a thousand words longer than I meant it to be! Still, I hope you enjoy!

The Bounty

Bane hated Coruscant. The whole cursed planet was a city and the teeming life made the reptile in him want to get as far away as he could and just curl up in the sun. But bounty hunters - even the best ones in the galaxy - had to work sometimes, and the Triple Zero had more prime targets than any other planet.

He was walking down a side street on one of the mid-levels in search of his current bounty. Despite Todo’s fretting, he and the droid were safer here than anywhere above or below. He had to give his target credit: they knew how to hide. The level was high enough that there was no need to watch your back just so no one would stab it, but disreputable enough that someone hiding from the authorities wouldn’t stand out.

Still, Bane was in a foul mood, and it was only getting worse as he continued to be unable to find his target. After he circled the same filthy block for the fourth time, Bane let out a blistering curse.

“Are you Cad Bane?”

He whirled, hands resting on the butts of his blaster pistols as he cursed himself. How long had it been since someone had managed to sneak up on him? Too long to start making stupid mistakes now.

“Who’s askin’?” he growled, scanning the dark alleyway. His red, slit-pupiled eyes adjusted better to the gloom than those of most other species, but even he had trouble picking out the speaker until they moved.

As the shadowed form stepped closer, Bane noted with some distaste that it was a human female. Duros had invented hyperdrives and had settled all across the galaxy, but it was the humans who were the most prevalent species. Nothing in the universe was fair.

This particular human looked to be nothing special. Her hair hung in limp strands - probably due to the humidity from the steam vents several buildings away - and her clothes looked like they had seen days in levels a lot lower than this one.

“I have some information for you,” she said, her voice pleasantly low and pitched to avoid being overheard.

“I’m sure,” Bane snorted.

“It’s good information,” she assured. “Worth a credit or two?”

“Dat’s not how dis works, girlie,” he said with a menacing chuckle, drawing one of the blasters and aiming in less time than it took to breathe. “Tell me da information an’ I’ll decide what it’s worth.”

She looked frightened, but nodded. “Th- There’s another bounty hunter after your target. I was sent to warn you that the guild gave out t-two biometric fobs.”

“Who sent ya tah warn me?” Bane demanded, absolutely livid. First, he was ousted as the Fett brat's godfather, and now the guild had issued another fob for his target? Ridiculous and insulting. Maybe that's why he was pressing the human female so hard, and why he hadn't put his blaster away yet.

“I don’t know, I swear!” she answered quickly. “He just pointed you out to me, gave me some credits, and told me what to tell you. Please don’t kill me!” She fell to her knees with the plea. Her actual skragging knees.

Bane shot her a disgusted look and holstered his blaster. In a few steps, he was at her side and tugged her roughly to her feet. She was heavier than she looked, but he had no problem getting her to stand - or keeping her close, even when she had started to struggle in an effort to get away from him.

"Are ya lyin' tah me, girl?" She shook her head frantically, but he noted with a spike of deep-buried interest that she had glanced at his mouth. It wasn't uncommon for people to mix up fear and interest, especially on a lower level of Coruscant.

Bane knew he had nothing to fear from this small human. He could read her every thought in her wide eyes and the expressions on her honest face. There was no reason not to have a little fun.

He pulled her closer, so close that the brim of his hat brushed her forehead as he continued, "So ya just thought to trick some extra credits outta me?"

"Uh, Master?" Todo chirped irritatingly.

"Shut up, droid," Bane snapped irritably as her gaze slid over to the techno-service droid instead of being fixed on Bane's own red eyes. He missed their weight, their heat. "D'ya know what I do tah people who try tah trick me?"

And there it was, her gaze flirted to his mouth again and lingered, just for a moment.

"How ‘bout ya earn those credits a different way?"

Offense crossed her face. "I'm not a-"

He lunged in for a kiss before she could tell him what she wasn't.

Duros didn't put much stock in kissing as an expression of anything, but it was the best way Bane knew of getting humans in the right headspace for more… inter-species recreation.

"Master," Todo said urgently and Bane fought a sigh. He hated the droid sometimes, but it was right. He had a target to find and now, there was a deadline.

He nipped at the human's lower lip with his sharp teeth and pulled away. "I've gotta go take care-a dis. See ya around."

She blinked up at him, looking rumpled and more than a bit confused. "But-"

"Master!"

"Shut up, droid," Bane snapped. "Can't ya see I'm goin'?"

When he turned back, the female was leaving. Bane spared a single thought for her, wishing momentarily that he had gotten her name, but he had bigger things to focus on. He had to find his bounty, cause some pain to the guild member who had issued a second fob, and figure out why he couldn't feel the vibroblade in his boot.

Wait…

Bane patted himself down and found that he was missing the pouch with his credits, the vibroblade from his boot, and the tracking fob.

"Master," Todo said again. "I've been trying to tell you: that girl was stealing from you!"

Bane hissed, whipping around to fix his gaze on the female. She was just rounding the corner of a building and saw him looking her way. Rather than the fearful look she had worn through their interaction, she grinned and sent a triumphant wink his way.

"Next time, just tell me!" Bane snapped, running after her. "Now I gotta track an unknown through da planet!"

"I traced the water from her hair while you were… occupied," Todo volunteered. "I believe she came from the steam vents three blocks west."

Bane changed directions and picked up speed, Todo soaring through the air beside him giving directions. At a certain point, he slowed, “I cannot go further. The steam will short out my circuits.”

“Fine, just wait dere,” Bane ordered over his shoulder. “Dis won’t take long.”

When Bane got to the steam vents, he immediately recognized the female's silhouette standing next to a nondescript, illegally parked ship. She was facing the opposite direction, speaking into a comlink hidden under her grimy sleeve.

"Well, keep me updated," she said, clearly disappointed with the person on the other end of the line.

Bane was on her before she could lower her arm, twisting her around. However, her reflexes were better than he had expected, and she turned and kicked him away in the same moment. Still, Bane hadn’t lived this long being taken by surprise. He grabbed her shoulders as he was pushed back, and levered her along with him. In the end, his balance was caught by a wall, and his grip pulled her against him until there was not an inch of space between their bodies.

"Gimme one good reason I shouldn't blast ya to pieces right now," he snarled in her face, one blaster already drawn and pressed to her temple.

Though this was a lot less friendly than the last time they had been so close, she wore a crooked little smile. “Because I can give back everything I took?”

“Yeah? An’ how is dat gonna make up fer da fact dat ya thought it’d be smart tah steal from me?”

The smile widened and took on a saucy look. “I think I more than made up for it back there. And there’s more where that came from. But first! Credits, fob…”

She hesitated before handing over the vibroblade. “I really like the knife. Any chance I could keep it?”

“I could shoot ya right now an’ no one would blink - least of all, me,” Bane hissed.

She pouted a bit, but passed the blade back. “Now, where were we?” she purred, moving as if to slide her hands up Bane’s arms.

Bane knocked her hands away and her comlink went off. She hit the button that allowed it to transmit, and Bane was less than thrilled, “I didn’t tell ya tah answer that.”

“We’re clear,” the comlink said.

“Who’s clear-a what?” he asked suspiciously, the end of the question muffled by the human female’s lips meeting his mouth once more. He obliged her, taking control of the kiss with a hand in her hair, holstering his blaster so he could use the other to angle her jaw.

“Bane,” she moaned at the contact.

Bane broke the kiss and tried not to pant as he said, “Ya got me at a disadvantage, darlin’. Ya know my name, but I never caught yers.”

“Oche,” she told him, giving a mischievous little smirk. “And that’s not the only thing you didn’t catch, bounty hunter.”

He was already furious by the time he tried to reach for her and found his wrists caught in magnetic binders, attached to the wall behind him.

“Well, that was lovely,” Oche said chipperly. “I do wish I could stay longer. I would love to see if all the rumors about you are true.”

Her gaze drifted downward and Bane growled at her, knowing full well what she would find if she looked too closely.

“Anyway, looks like we’re both done here.”

As she began to root through his jacket, Bane glowered. “So, ya were tryin’ tah steal my bounty all along.”

“Not really,” Oche said after a thoughtful pause. “It’s more like… a partnership. You found the guy, I got the fob, and Embo got the bounty.”

Embo. Bane should have guessed that the Kyuzo would be one to steal a bounty. He had already tried to steal Bane’s signature wide-hat style. Aloud, he just said, “And when am I gonna get my share-a da payment fer this little partnership?”

“Well, your portion was done on more of a volunteer basis,” she hedged.

Before Bane could tell her how little he cared about volunteering anything, she said, “I’m taking some of your credits, the fob, and the vibroknife. I really did like it.”

As she stepped away, Oche added, “Embo said to tell you thanks for the bounty. He didn’t know if he could find them alone, but you were a big help. And don’t worry, those cuffs will come off as soon as my ship leaves the atmosphere.

With that, she scampered off, climbed into her ship, and blew him a kiss goodbye through the viewport. Bane bared his pointed teeth at her in return.

Oche was right, though: the binders fell off only minutes after her ship had risen through the air. Bane spent only a moment glaring at the sky before he walked back in the direction of his own ship, lost in thought.

Fett had Wesell, Embo had Oche, even Ohnaka had Sing. Was he the only bounty hunter left in the galaxy who still worked solo? Where was his apprentice?

“Master!” Todo cried, hovering beside the Duros’s face. “Did you find her? Did you get the target?”

“Oh, I gotta target, all right,” Bane said darkly. “An’ I’m not gonna stop ‘til I get ‘er.”

He would find Embo and Oche, he would get his money for the target he had found, and then… Bane and Oche would finish what they had started.

Whether it would be finished with blasters or something more primal, he wasn’t certain, but it would be finished either way.

#fic request #anonymous fic request #cad bane #todo 360 #bounty hunter #cad bane is easily distracted #for a bounty hunter #original female character #mentioned #embo #jango fett #zam wesell #hondo ohnaka #aurra sing #threats of violence #dubious consent #sfw though #just kissing #and death threats but whatever

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rejectory · 4 years ago

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@goodsouldier: “ so … are you guys like, boyfriend and girlfriend? ”

peter’s stomach triple-flips.

❝i’m not gonna, like, change my instagram bio to reflect that, or anything.❞

if that’s what steve(he thinks they’re on a first-name basis)’s worried about. the thought alone makes him itch for mj’s hand. he wishes she were here to question captain america’s dating history in supersonic return and not give an inch.

‘cause she wouldn’t.

❝not that i have instagram. that’s just what we say.❞

#goodsouldier #PETER.#he has instagram

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staranon95 · 5 years ago

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crushing on me

a red hood au drabble

Jeremy likes the sporadic schedule that comes with a life of crime. There are some days he does nothing at all, when the whole crew does nothing at all.

Back in the early days, it was him and Matt. They didn’t even know each other when they first came into contact with the Fakes, but they became fast friends. They settled in as roommates. If there was anything Matt needed, Jeremy would jump at the chance to fulfill the request for him. Matt would go out of his way to make sure Jeremy’s intel was current. He wasn’t above bribing people to make sure Jeremy was safe. They worked well together. And then Trevor came along and the twosome became a threesome at some point.

Whatever it is that exists between them, Jeremy wouldn’t be able to name. It’s a mix between strictly platonic verging on the edge of being romantic. It’s just sometimes easier to share one bed with three people late at night when the adrenaline crashes. Plus, Matt needs people in his life. Jeremy doesn’t think he gets out often enough.

After they manage to get Alfredo to Fiona’s place, Jeremy and Trevor head over to Matt’s and take up spots on the bed. Trevor sprawls out over the foot of the bed. He likes sleeping in odd positions. Jeremy likes sleeping curled up in a ball and Matt has no problem fitting himself into whatever space is left for him.

It’s always been the three of them in some way. After everyone has head home for the night. Sure, Jeremy got close when he started working with Michael and Gavin for jobs. It was only natural. But at the end of the day, it’d be Jeremy with Matt and Trevor. Alfredo had always been on the sidelines. He was closest to Trevor. They knew each other from high school back in the day. But Alfredo had always been drawn to Gavin the most.

Jeremy harbours guilt from that night. When everything went wrong. When they all fully realized the potential risk of their jobs because suddenly it was real. Losing someone like they did.

Jeremy wakes briefly the next morning to feel Matt getting out of it. He catnaps for another hour until Trevor purposefully rolls until he’s on top of him.

“Dude, you’re crushing my lungs.”

Trevor shifts a bit lower, so Jeremy can stretch out a bit beneath him.

“So what’s on the schedule for today?”

“We need to find a new central place to work out of,” Trevor says. “And I doubt any of us would want to put up with the entire crew on a semi-regular basis.”

“Oh, you got that right. So what were you thinking?”

“Well, I was looking at listings yesterday.” Trevor pulls his phone out from underneath the sheets. “There’s this really nice house up in the hills for a really cheap price.”

“How cheap?”

Trevor tilts the phone in Jeremy’s direction.

“Oh, shit. How’d that happen?”

“Triple homicide. The estate just wants it gone, but no one worth their salt will buy.”

“Well, damn. Sounds like our kind of place.”

“Figured we could go up there today and check the place out. I can have the paperwork settled by the end of the week.”

“And if Alfredo’s still around, we can see about moving him up there. Give Fiona her space back.”

Trevor hums at the mention of their current ‘Red’ problem. It feels weird to be talking and thinking about Alfredo in the present tense. Jeremy doesn’t know what to make of it. There’s no resource on how to cope when your dead friend suddenly comes back to life.

“Has Geoff said anything?” Because Jeremy has to ask. Ever since the big guy’s retirement, they’ve been running things quite smoothly. Geoff deserves to retire the way he wants to.

“He’s been radio silent,” Trevor says.

“He still in the country?”

“As far as I’m aware, he’s still in the city.”

“What about Jack?”

“Haven’t been able to reach her either.”

Which is uncharacteristic for the both of them. Jack is the type of person to not only text you but call you when you haven’t been responding to her. So why are they quiet now? They were just as much a part of Alfredo’s death as they all were.

“What did you tell them?” Jeremy asks.

“That Alfredo’s back. That apparently we have some loose ends we need to tie up on that regard. Just keeping them in on the know, you know?”

“So what are we doing about that?”

“Carry on like nothing’s happened. We get the house. We set up a home base there. We get Alfredo settled. We try to talk to him.”

“And if we can’t?”

Jeremy is trying to be pragmatic about this. This Alfredo is different. From the few times they’ve interacted, Alfredo has been cheeky. Like he’s playing a game. Playing with his food and they’re the meal. What is his play here? Why fuck with the crew one minute and let them know the penthouse is going to be raided the next?

Somehow he has the feeling that this might get ugly.

#fake ah crew #fahc #gta au #star speaks #star writes #red hood au #relationships are going to be platonic and romantic in this story #they're all over each other #all the time

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yet-another-fan-girl9 · 5 years ago

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Inhuman (5)

Summary: All beings in the universe have a soulmate except for Midgardians. People can hear their soulmate in their heads. For almost five hundred and fifty years, Loki believed that he had no soulmate until 1513 when a Midgardian princess was born. Will fate be kind to them or will the universe tear them apart?

Warnings: violence, language, hella historical inaccuracies (I tried to do research but then got lazy), maybe some AOS spoilers(?)

Word Count: ~3000

A/N: This one is short because I’m busy getting ready to move into my college dorm!

[Upstate New York, May 2024]

“You may be wondering why I summoned you all here.” The Avengers looked at your group in silence. “Wow,” Max continued. “I’ve always wanted to say that.”

“He’s lying,” you said and everyone’s eyes landed on you. You tried to ignore Loki but it was hard with the unexplainable tugging. Was it really unexplainable, though? “I’m actually the one who summoned you.”

“Technically it was me through the AI,” Liam cut in.

“Oh, hush up.” You waved him off. “We have something important to talk about.”

“Yes, we do.” Steve stood up. “You have a lot to talk about.”

“Wait, I recognize you,” the Black Widow said and looked Izzy up and down. “You were the flower shop girl. Of fucking course. You work together. That’s why we couldn’t find her after she killed the Senator.” The female Avenger put her face in her hands.

“That guy with the bright lights isn’t with you, is he?” the one you recognized as the Valkyrie crossly scanned your group.

“Arthur as well as the Senator are old news, we have some more pressing matters at hand.”

“Like how you were in a car crash, a bad one,” Bucky pointed out. “Yet you don’t seem injured at all.”

“And how you killed the Kree Reaper,” Thor added.

“Like how you broke into the compound,” Stark said. “How do you keep doing that?”

“Like how you’re still alive?” Loki’s voice sent shivers up your spine. It had been so, so long. It took everything to stay in place. You squeezed your eyes shut and took a deep breath before continuing.

“Let’s backtrack to the Kree, what did you call it? Reaper?” You looked at everyone in the room except for Loki.

“Alright, let’s talk about the Kree.” Steve crossed his arms. “I’m sure you know why they’re here.”

“For us.” You gestured at your group. “They’re here to kill the weak Inhumans and bring the strong ones back to Hala.”

“I’m sorry, Inhumans?”

“You don’t know? It should be in S.H.I.E.L.D’s files.”

“We kinda distanced ourselves from S.H.I.E.L.D. after it fell years ago,” Stark said.

“Well, I thought Coulson would have told you.”

“The son of Coul died long ago.” Thor pointed at Loki who you only saw out of the corner of your eye. “This one stabbed him.”

“Yes, I know he never stopped talking about it. That really started a whole shit chain of events, you know. Anyways, we were talking about Inhumans.”

“Are we up for a history lesson?” Banner asked.

“Sure, crash course in Inhumans. Thousands of years ago, Kree came to Earth with the task of creating bioweapons. They experimented on some people, yada yada, I’m not a biologist. It created a gene in humans that would change when exposed to Terrigen crystals. Anyways, there was an Inhuman revolution led by some guy named Alv… Er, Alvin? No, uh… led by some guy called Hive. Then the Inhumans teamed up with regular humans to banish Hive to another planet. Some Inhumans stayed loyal to him, though and created an organization that would later become Hydra, but that’s another story.” Steve and Bucky looked at each other. “Then, Inhumans just kinda… faded, I guess, when access to Terrigen crystals became challenging. There was a whole accident with Terrigen crystals contaminating fish or whatever. Thank your pal Coulson for that. Now we’re here. The end.”

“And you’re an Inhuman,” Loki said.

“Yes,” you quietly replied and finally looked at him. It felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest if you didn’t run to him. He crossed his arms and looked away.

“The Blue Man Group is here for the Inhumans?” Stark asked.

“Yep,” you confirmed, popping the ‘p.’ “So we’re here to ask for your help.”

“You need our help?” He gestured at the rest of the Avengers. “Our asses got handed to us when we went up against them. You went up against one, after a car crash, and you look… great.”

“Fine, then we’ll help you. But first, we need to make a deal.” They nodded at you to go on. “We help you to get rid of the Kree, and afterwards, you leave us alone.”

“You know we can’t do that,” Steve said.

“Then we’ll take down the Kree, without you. The public will see that the Avengers can’t handle a couple of Kree Reapers…”

“Is that a threat? It feels like a threat.”

You shrugged. “It’s my people being targeted. It’s my people who are going to fight before the fucking Kree hurt someone.” You gestured to your group and turned to leave.

“Wait!” You turned back around. “Wait,” Loki continued. “Don’t leave. I accept your offer. You help us against the Kree, and we will leave you alone. Just don’t leave. Please.”

“Slow down there, Reindeer Games,” Stark stepped in. “You’re the last person to make decisions for this team.”

Loki glared at him and then reluctantly turned to his brother for back up.

“Well, I suppose we could think about the offer a bit longer,” Thor said slowly. “Get into the details of the agreement.”

You didn’t have more fucking time. The Kree could strike at any moment. You had to act now, so you would. There was no point in more arguing though.

“Fine, you take all the time you need.”

“But the Kree will—” You shot a sharp glare at Max to quiet him.

“Take all the time you need to figure out all of the terms and conditions of our agreement. Meanwhile, I will go back home and—”

“You can stay here. In the compound. Everyone else too”

Everyone looked at Loki, now. A mixture of glares and shocked stares on everyone’s faces. You cocked your head and studied him.

“Again,” Stark sighed. “Last person to be making decisions.” Then he looked at your small group. “But I guess we can find some space for you guys.”

“One problem,” Max spoke up. “We don’t have any of our stuff with us.”

“I think that clothes are the least of our worries,” Izzy snorted.

“I was actually talking about our weapons. But thanks for reminding me about the clothes, I guess.”

“Fine. We’ll stay with you here in the compound,” you crossed your arms as a small smile crossed Loki’s face, “but if more of my people want to seek shelter with me, they come here.” Stark thought for a moment before he shrugged and nodded his permission. “We have to do something first. We just need to get our things from my place,” you rushed to say when everyone’s eyes narrowed. “If it makes you guys feel better, someone can chaperone.”

That’s how you ended up packed into the elevator headed up to your penthouse. When you had said that someone could chaperone, you were thinking of one, maybe two at maximum, Avenger. Not four of them.

The goddamned supersoldiers should have taken the stairs up to the top, they took up a lot of space. The billionaire had been pressed into the back corner. The other people in the elevator were your little group and the Black Widow. It wasn’t the smallest elevator but everyone made it seem smaller by giving the red-haired assassin a wide berth.

You couldn’t help but lament the fact that Loki hadn’t volunteered to go with you. Why the fuck hadn’t either of you thrown yourselves at the other yet?

The elevator let out a pleasant chime as the doors slid open and everyone spilled out with a sigh of relief. The members of the Avengers looked around as your friends went off to their respected rooms. You went up to your room and pulled out a suitcase.

Guns, knives, and other various weapons went in first followed by contact information. Then you covered those with some clothes that you picked with careful thought. You grabbed a few more ‘essential’ objects before heading back down.

You found Tony, everyone had insisted on being a first name basis, by your ceiling to floor windows. You stood next to him and soaked in the view. The nighttime New York was sparkling with activity.

“You know,” Tony began. “I think I tried to buy this place once. Well, this building.”

“I’m not surprised. It’s in an amazing location and I got it for a great price. Not much was nearby when I first got it, but I saw the potential for the nearby area and the building. Now it’s worth almost triple to what I bought it at.”

“Who would’ve known a hitwoman knew so much about real estate? Of all the fucking things,” Tony laughed.

“You have to know a lot of random stuff when you’re in this business. Plus,” you shrugged, “you pick up a lot over the years. Patterns and all that.”

“So since you brought it up, sorta, how… long have you been around?”

“Haven’t you learned that it’s rude to ask a woman her age, no matter how you phrase it,” you laughed before looking at Tony. “He didn’t tell you?”

“Who? Steve? No, he didn’t tell us too much about you. He has more secrets than he lets on.”

“No, not Steve. Loki. Loki didn’t say anything about me?”

“Loki? He definitely has a lot of secrets.”

“He said something to me.” Steve walked up behind you.

“Haven’t you learned that it’s rude to eavesdrop?” You raised a playful eyebrow.

“What? Why would Loki, of all people, talk to you, of all fucking people, about (Y/N)?”

“Don’t ask me.” The blond supersoldier shrugged. “But he also asked me not to tell anyone else, albeit in a cryptic way. I don’t want to, one: break his trust, and two: get on his bad side, so you’re not hearing anything from me.”

“You’re useless.” Tony deflated.

“You know I could tell you. Loki doesn’t control what I tell people. It’s my story too.” You smirked when your new friend looked at you hopefully. “‘Could’ being the imperative word.”

“Useless!” The billionaire exasperatedly threw his hands in the air. “Everyone is so fucking useless.”

“Hey, now,” Natasha’s voice was dark but her eyes sparkled. “Not everyone.”

“Yeah, I think it’s just you,” Bucky joined.

“What did we miss?” Liam emerged from a hallway with his bags to find everyone laughing. Max and Izzy appeared next to him, their bags in hand as well.

“Oh, nothing important,” you smiled and eyed their bags. “So I don’t think we have enough space in one car for everyone and everything. I’m thinking we split the bags. The Avengers can take these,” you pushed a few bags towards them, “and the car we arrived in. We’ll take these bags in one of my other cars.”

“Okay,” Bucky said slowly and picked up a bag.

“If it makes you feel better,” you sighed. “We’ll go first and you can tail us.”

“What, in case you decide to bolt?” Natasha placed her arms on her hips.

“Considering we’re the ones who came to you,” you mimicked her stance. “We won’t make a run for it.”

She stood still for a moment and then nodded. Everyone piled into their assigned cars and you took the lead out of the city and back to the compound. The sun was starting to rise, painting the sky pink and orange.

“Alright, listen up,” you announced to the passengers in your car. “I have people all over the country, the world, keeping an eye out for the Kree.”

“What happens when we find them?” Max asked.

“If the Avengers thought out the ultra specific terms and conditions by then, we will attack the Kree with all of our forces.”

“And if they haven’t refined all of the details?” Liam prompted.

“We’ll attack the Kree with all of our forces, just, you know, in secret.”

“Great plan.” Izzy rolled her eyes. “Go behind the Avengers’ back.”

“Listen, I have a plan,” Max said. “If they haven’t come to an agreement yet, tell them if the situation arises. Pressure them into getting what you want.”

You mulled over the idea. In Max’s version, the Avengers wouldn’t hold anything against you, as much. But they would probably still slow you down.

“Fine,” you grumbled and saw your right hand man begin to beam out of the corner of your eye. “But everyone has to be on their best behavior so that it’s easier to sway them to our side.”

The gates to the compound opened for you and the tugging feeling resumed. Would it ever go away?

Everyone found their way to their rooms for an early morning nap. It seemed as if the whole compound was asleep so of fucking course, you remained awake. Partially because of the strong tugging and partially because of your bad luck.

To pass the time, you went through your emails and tried to create a timeline of the Kree’s activity. Your eyes were tired, but you hadn’t felt any hints of sleep yet. You rubbed your eyes and when you opened them again, you were no longer on your bed.

Your hand was halfway to opening your door and the incessant tugging was the reason why. You groaned and forced yourself back to your bed. Maybe you should actually try to get some rest. You put your head on the soft pillow and closed your eyes.

“Even if it means your death?”

Agnes didn’t respond but instead looked at you with kind and trusting eyes. Ever since you climbed out of the hole in Puerto Rico, dirty, tear stained cheeks, and alone, your handmaiden was always by your side to support you. She gestured to the piles of books around your room.

“Have you found anything about him or your connection?”

“No,” you sighed. “There are only stories of the past and what I need is the future.”

Agnes was the only person you had told about Loki. She was the only person you could trust. When you told her your story, she didn’t call you mad. She didn’t question you or your sanity. Agnes was a smart girl and she had noticed the change that had come over you after Puerto Rico.

You nodded at Agnes and you left the room together. Guards instantly flanked to your side as you strode confidently to your carriage. You hid a flint and steel in your hand, knowing that Agnes did the same. A young squire caught your eye and inconspicuously tugged on his ear. He would be riding next to the carriage in front of yours while Agnes rode in the one behind you. This was a plan that had been in the making for months.

Halfway through your journey, shouts and the neighing of horses began to grow. That was your cue and you revealed your flint and steel, much to the horror of the high ranking nobleman who was sharing your carriage. You shot him your most intimidating queenly glare and he shrunk back into his seat.

It took a few tries to get a spark and it took a few sparks to really get the fire going. The nobleman screamed and tried to leave but the inferno had already blocked the door. Flames were creeping up your skirt as screams erupted from behind you.

Then you were running through the streets, away from the burning carriages. Turn left. Turn right. The burns and pains on your legs were fading.

The next thing you knew, you were in the hallway. You looked around and rubbed your eyes. The pulling sensation was still there and you were tired of it.

“Fucking hell.” You looked down at where it felt like the tugging was coming from. “Fine, you fucking win.”

You followed the feeling and found yourself standing in the entrance to the living room. The only person inhabiting the space was the reason for the tugging. Loki sat alone, his attention was fully focused on his book, or so it seemed. You would think he would be able to feel the same tugging.

“So,” you cleared your throat and fiddled with your fingers. “It’s been a while.”

“I suppose it has,” he mumbled, eyes still on the book.

“It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah.”

“How have you been?” Irritation crawled up your spine when he turned the page.

“Fine.”

“How’s the goddamned book?”

“Alright.”

“Can you please look at me?”

“No.”

“What’s wrong?” You crossed your arms and glared at the raven-haired god.

“Nothing.”

“Right,” you snorted. “Because answering all of my questions with some one word bullshit means nothing’s wrong.”

“Do you have a problem?” Loki finally looked up from his fucking book.

“Yeah, right now I do have a goddamned problem. With you.”

“Me?” The son of a bitch had the fucking audacity to look shocked. “What did I do to piss you off?”

“Don’t act like a fucking dumbass, Loki. It doesn’t suit you. And you want to know why you’re pissing me off?” You gestured angrily with your hands. “Because just last fucking night, you were practically begging me to stay here. In the compound. With you. Now you’re avoiding me and acting like we don’t have a fuck ton of problems to work out.”

“Let’s think back to where the problems started in the first place,” he replied coldly. “Who severed the connection? Who married another fucking man? Who made me believe I had no soulmate?”

“What the fuck are you talking about? Are you seriously blaming me for that? You think I had any power over any of those fucking things? Every fucking thing you just mentioned, I had no goddamn say in.” You took a deep breath and quelled the burning rage inside of you. “Actually, I do know why you’re avoiding me. I know why you’re blaming me for things I couldn’t control.” Your eyes met. Both pairs were stone cold but hiding something beneath them. “It’s because you’re the one who left first.”

Tags: @kaithehero @liliannyah @andreasworlsboring101 @oatballsoffury @aberrant-annie @simplybree @adalina-perez @emage-king @yandereforyou @notactiveonmain @tvdplusriverdale @inmyowncorner

#inhuman #loki x reader #loki x soulmate reader #loki x hitman reader #loki #steve rogers #captain america #bucky barnes #the winter soldier #natasha romanoff #black widow #iron man #tony stark #marvel #mcu #soulmate au #au

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quinn-tessence · 5 years ago

Text

Paint me like one of your French girls

Part 1

Summary: Your forensic sketch portrait leads the Police to suspect Arthur of the 3 subway murders, and it also leads you to becoming a full time artist, painting a particular clown you used to know. That clown soon becomes Joker, your primary source of artistic inspiration and you fall down a dangerous rabbit hole.

Length: 7k ish

Details: Slow-ish burner, mentions of blood and murder, severe mental conditions, a touch of Theodore Twombly, pre-smut intro.

11:11 PM. The white room at the police station was empty this time; you couldn't help but wonder if that was a good sign, or a bad one. The night shift was more agitated tonight than you remembered. It hurt you deep down to return and see your former colleagues, but you leaving had been for the best.

‘Listen to me, you know the drill. You do not discuss this with anyone. I need you to fill in for Garcia and sketch out a suspect from a triple homicide. Might be nothing yet, Colin and I will talk to the witnesses and send them to you one by one. Capisci?’ Blair sat you down in your old office corner before turning to the first witnesses.

The young couple were in shock, his hands bloody to the elbows, the girl's face had a delicate streak of dried blood on her temple. Blair would calm them down. She'd always been good with people and could read through them like a scanner. She'd been your superior back when you were still here, and that effect had worn out on you with time, thankfully. Leaving the force had brought you a bit closer together, and she dared pick your brain on investigative matters even after your departure. Not the standard detective routine, but she trusted you to keep to yourself and needed you to be a professional tonight.

The witness accounts were messy. You’d tried so many failed sketches until one shocked witness, a beautiful Asian brunette woman, laid it all out clearly. She had been in the same cart with all 4 of them, and had gotten out just in time. A few minutes later she heard 5 gun shots in the subway. After the metro left, screams came from the cart where 2 bodies were bleeding out, that young couple over there terrified at the sight.

‘There was this man wearing a full clown costume, had a raffia bag with him. His face was painted white but he had a huge red mouth from ear to ear. He was a few feet away, sitting in the cart. I was egging him to say something to those guys, they were throwing fries at me and he was just standing there, watching. But then he let out a giggle, followed by a burst of loud, sinister laughter, like he was having the time of his life. At that point I was more frightened by that than those 3 morons. He started choking and laughing hysterically, so I just left... They were idiots but they were drunk, they didn't deserve to die like that. It's awful…’

‘Can you describe his facial features to a sketch artist?’

‘Yeah I think I can, I’ll try'

‘Alright great, you're doing great. Please sit over there, Y/N will ask you some questions to get you started' Blair couldn't contain herself from checking the Asian beauty one more time, and Colin caught that immediately.

‘I'm sure she already took care of that herself. How this woman gets more pussy than all the guys in the precinct is beyond me.’

‘Colin, don't be a dick' you let out a chuckle.

‘I'm not, I’m pragmatic'

‘We both know you don't even know what that word means’

‘Nope, but it makes me look smart. How do you think I got this job?’ you had a soft spot for his moronic humor, but seemingly not soft enough.

A few open questions here and there were helpful. 10 years of forensic artistry had shut a door tight only to open a new one into switching vocations and painting to earn a better living. You were still at home in that precinct, first name basis with all from janitor to lieutenant. The girl leaned in to look at the other sketches but you couldn't allow her to become biased with what she saw. What a joke…

Very thin man, cheek hollows visible, creases on his forehead, delicate but protruding jawline. Not too young but not old. Couldn't be more than 35 but surely not under 30, creases were too pronounced. Wig with curly, plastic, green hair on the sides. White face. Triangles over his eyebrows and tiny ones on his eye bags.

Eyes? Big, for sure. He had been staring at the scene. They were big, but not dark though. Might have been blue or green, or maybe that was just the blue face paint reflecting the color, she couldn't be sure.

Nose? Big nose, almost like a warlock. Mouth? Painted red with long pointy edges almost reaching his ears, thin lips for sure. A red smile across his face, contoured in black liner. Somehow there were more creases on his face, but she couldn't remember.

‘More creases? As in, he was older than you thought?’

‘No, no. He had... I don't know, maybe it's just my imagination, he was a few feet away...’

‘Did you see a distinctive sign, a mark, a scar, a mole? Something that struck you?’

‘Other than his choked laughter...? I guess there was something but not a mole. Something under his nose.’

Ok let's leave that for now, *possible distinctive sign under nose* in your own notes.

Almost a full hour of questions later, ‘That's him, that's the man I saw. Maybe even thinner than this, he looked a bit sickly at first glance. Last thing I saw before switching carts were the drunk men moving towards the clown, he was still laughing, like he was tantalizing them. A few minutes later I heard the gun shots and the chubbier one running towards my cart, screaming, then he stepped out. I didn’t see the clown at all.’

After Blair escorted the Asian beauty out of the building, you were finally taking that step back to see the full picture. Holy shit.

Seeing the final result, how all the elements fit together, how your fingers worked better that night than any other night, it sent a cold chill down your spine. It was best to remain silent, considering what was really on the tip of your tongue. That's a beautiful clown, and he looks oddly familiar, doesn't he? That nose... you'd seen it before... Who in their right mind would be laughing chokingly in such a situation? Could he have had the same condition... as...

‘So what have we got? Are you gonna paint the Sistine chapel before you let us see it?’

‘Oh shut your tramp, Blair. You're not the boss of me anymore.’ You mockingly retorted, while handing in the sketch.

‘Goddamn it. That's one clown I wouldn't want to piss off. He's the stuff of my fucking nightmares, man, I didn't sign up for this shit.’

‘But Blair… being a police officer is all about facing your deepest fears and cleaning the world of scum. Such a noble profession, it's worth every internal conflict!’ Colin spurted in a theatrical, clearly sarcastic tone.

‘Don't give me none of that bullshit, Colin, this was my day off.' She threw the sketch on her desk for further processing. 'So, by those accounts, he's a psychopathic murderous clown. Fucking GREAT! The hysterical laugh, what the fuck was that all about?’

You had forgotten how much of a sailor Blair became when she was on duty. You loved that about her, though.

‘Maybe a condition? Why would a frail, goofy looking man antagonize 3 drunk young men late at night in a train?' Colin was really smarter than he let show, although that thought could easily be dismissed by his unfortunate choice in women. You could feel his eyes strolling over you as you boxed up Garcia's equipment and put it back in his drawer, preparing to head off for the night. It wasn't the first time, and it surely wouldn't be the last, you thought as you waved him good luck with the hunt.

Absently you'd lost yourself in the silence of the early morning Gotham streets as the taxi drove you home across the city. You had once known someone with a crippling laughing condition, ironically a Doctor of Laughter in his day job as a party clown, but that was a far stretch, wasn't it? The sadness in that man, how he would have tiny cackle episodes triggered whenever he was shy around you. He was endearingly odd and frail, but somehow your heart felt warmer each time you'd seen him. You'd get just as flustered when you stood in the same queue at the pharmacy a few times, where you'd see him stock up on medication enough for a whole ward, sometimes wearing his work costume with a name tag and a red flower pinned to his chest. But that was 6 months ago, before you moved from Old Gotham. What was his name, the one thought to accompany you to a very late night sleep.

Days went by with you locked in your apartment, half painted canvases leaning on the Roman arcade in your studio, your apron graffitied in shades of clown. You couldn't put a finger on it yet, but there was a feisty demon clawing naggingly under your skin, looking for a way out onto the canvas.

Blair had been right, this was the stuff of nightmares. What kept you up at night now was the same nightmare you'd had as a child, a terrifying, dangerous clown, only now it came from an opposite place. You'd lost your innocence long ago, but you'd never have thought clowns would haunt you in adulthood, with contrasting intent.

It didn't help that your only connection to real life were Blair and Colin stopping by to admire your work and pick your brain with this case. They were only scratching an itch that had already started tearing into your skin. After sketching him that night, you'd helped them here and there with an outside opinion that proved quite useful and lead them to an Arthur Fleck, living in Old Gotham. Arthur Fleck... you couldn't remember if he had ever told you his name... but why had you thought of him now, after all this time? You hoped you would not wrongfully confuse this murderous clown with a sweet, innocent, sick man because of the fucked up wiring in your brain. But the moment it dawned on you that the man they'd found was the same Arthur in your pharmacy line, your heart coiled wishing you could turn back time and mess up the sketch.

The self doubt soon came to a harrowing close the night you were glued to the TV in horror as Murray Franklin's brains trickled down the studio wall. Your heart had been in your throat since the moment Arthur's unmistakable laughter resounded in the recording. The build up of tension increased with each accusation his alter ego, Joker, was spewing about society, culminating in the most macabre joke of all time and a splash of Murray's blood on Joker's white makeup. Your bloodshot eyes were incapable of turning away from the horror show, the depressing reality snapped into the audience on live TV by this desperate man whom society had abandoned.

And so did you, in a way. You'd had a soft spot for his shy, delicate demeanor, you could have at least said goodbye before moving out. His crush on you had been adorably obvious, his fidgeting in your presence made it hard to miss.

The whole scene was sardonic. Macabre, satirical, painfully awakening. Joker's flavor of humor. This city was so god forsaken, it could turn the best people into madmen, and seeing it unfold on TV made it feel as if a bubble had just burst, long overdue. You remembered bitterly how broken hearted you had left the force, how your life long aspirations had turned to ashes in your mouth the moment you couldn't stand its deeply engrained corruption anymore. Maybe Arthur could have been a good listener in that dizzying whirl had you given him a chance, but you chose to uproot yourself without putting your own burdens on another. Why you suddenly felt sad and guilty, it made no sense.

You couldn't stop yourself from watching this colorful clown with blood splatters over his face. As horrifying as the Murray show had been, it sent a clear message. The desperation Gotham brought on its citizens had been heard, finally. It only took a televised execution to really listen.

Joker’s gritty dance was sinisterly endearing, he was hopping weightlessly to the camera to bid the audience good night as the cops tackled him face down on the ground. The transmission stopped and you could taste the pain in your gaping mouth, as Joker’s maniacal laughter still resounded through your temples. A frozen stiff body was caging in all your smoldering rage from spewing out, your mind in a raucous.

Riots had started on the street outside your apartment, nagging at your inner outcast that was already raked up and on edge. Your place was only a few blocks away from the TV station, so naturally the epicenter would be in this area. Regardless of being heavily ambivalent about the side you were about to be on, you couldn't miss the chance to be part of history. You'd fantasized of this city burning to the ground under its own willful ignorance of the people who needed care and protection the most. You descended into a sea of clowns and jokers, fuming cans mystifying the air as if in a dream, an ambulance crashing into a Police car just a block away. There was no containing that crunching curiosity, so your feet followed the pack, chanting Joker, Joker, Joker as you moved closer to the crash.

Adrenaline seeped down to your bones with each step you took closer to the car, rushing your way in the midst of the sea of revolting clowns that would have petrified you mere months ago. Now, you were one of them, watching as this feeble, injured man rose to his feet on the hood of the Police car, blazing red, blue, yellow lights reflecting onto him like a lighthouse in the midst of a storm. Shy at first, his shocked stupor was visible, no doubt surpassing yours entirely. This must have been just as surreal to him, to Joker, as it was to each person on Anderson avenue that night, but the chants were revering him as if a fire god of destruction.

On sight, your fury had melted into a different reaction, subconsciously aware that whatever outrage you might have felt was no match to his. He must have been in a world of pain, but his swift dance moves betrayed none of that. His open arms embraced the adoration, and adorned it with a smile smeared across his face in his own blood. All sound silenced in your mind, yet your heart galloped as the man turned with tears dripping from his eyes down a smiling bloody mouth. Heart wrenching, maniacal, beautiful, and you'd just witnessed pure, unadulterated, raw art. Out of all places, you were there, seeing him again, seeing him anew.

Is that you, sweet Arthur? you whispered to yourself, any distant sound heavily covered by chants and explosions. As much as you'd lied to yourself, having witnessed this resurrection had made you enter a dangerous game of chess with yourself. Your morals and once rock solid principles were now wobbling like a building on fire ready to collapse at any moment. The highly toxic thing you had for emotionally unavailable men had gone too far even for you.

As soon as Police sirens blazed close by, he jumped off the car and was escorted into the ambulance by the clowns who'd dragged him out, the crowd scattering rapidly. It felt cathartic, even though you knew you should be rooting for your friends instead, yet within a few seconds he was no more. What a bitter sweet epilogue as you watched the ambulance cut the corner. You could hold on to this little taboo, locked away in a tight cabinet of your mind, only to retrieve it when plunging into your deepest fantasies that had already been grafittied in the most acute shades of Joker.

This had been merely your creative prelude, fueling an existing obsession that had already begun consuming you during long nights of painting a sad clown. Disgust, fear, pity were at the far end of what you were feeling, your entire being conflicted, but your heart throbbed out of your chest. An unfamiliar feeling was clawing its way out from your core as you walked home absently, you needed to relieve it somehow. Was he really the Arthur you'd known before?

The next 3 months you'd spent producing your best work so far, grim, tragic, beautiful. Your muse was on every TV station headlined as the Clown Prince of Crime, dangerous psychopath, ruthless killer. But never again on camera fully, only glimpses of his green hair and red suit, progressively heavily guarded and sometimes in the company of drop dead beautiful women. Naturally, you thought, but rational thoughts didn't alleviate the knot in your heart, not one bit. All you could go on was the vivid memory of his macabre dance during the riots, and the faint memory of sweet Arthur looking up at you shyly. He now had his henchmen do his dirty work, and in just a few months he had become a destructive force in Gotham, putting this city to its knees and keeping your friends on their toes. It felt surreal to accept that this wild card, Joker, was really that sweet, vulnerable Arthur wrapped in a ravishing crimson clown costume, even with all the undisputed evidence. Had it not been for the unmistakable laughter on the recording, you would have easily refuted it.

Despite the media frenzy over the deranged murderous clown, his heists had been carefully calculated, only targeting mob banks. His shootouts resulted in the scum of Gotham getting shot dead, sometimes counting his men as well. Cops had been injured, but had thankfully recovered, which had oddly earned him points with Gotham PD. Somehow the Police was not taking all measures to apprehend him although they surely had enough on him for a life long Arkham membership.

‘Gotham mob getting cleaned out by a certified, former Arkham patient in a clown costume. Man, are you kidding me? Reality beats fiction every goddamn time! Let them be at each other's throats, we just watch from a distance to make sure they don't cause any civilian casualties. Not a bad deal, huh?’ Colin would joke over an off duty glass of whiskey on your couch.

You'd quarantined yourself in an imaginary cage with your muse for too long, and it was terrifying. Each time he'd lurk out in the streets just to deftly disappear again, your heart would gallop, and you'd paint incessantly. The art started selling excellently over the past few months as if there wasn't enough destruction and havoc in Gotham already, people wanted to hang it on their walls! Naturally, you started thinning your art exhibitions as a precaution to not becoming a bright signaling beacon before it was too late.

Catching yourself hiding your own canvases whenever your buddies would drop by had made you ponder. They'd noticed your... silent fixation on Gotham's Most Wanted, and Colin's dirty humor was soon taken seriously by Blair.

‘Shouldn't you paint something else too, girl?’

‘Well, I do…’

‘Oh of course you do! I must have missed those over the cram of clowns and jokers in this room.’

‘He makes me a lot of money, you know?’

‘I'm getting jealous, Y/N, you never gave me this much attention. I would have married you if you had, you're the only woman I’m not afraid of meeting when Blair's around. What about the porn versions, are you ever gonna show us those?’ You felt your cheeks flush in embarrassment, you would never make them public, especially to those two.

‘First, you're an idiot. Second, with that third grade humor, no wonder they fucking left you. Third, they wouldn't choose a woman over your sorry ass if you knew what you were doing.’

‘Uhhh, low blow! Y/N, give me some ice for this burn!’ Colin threw a pillow at Blairs face but she caught it deftly.

‘Remind me why are we friends? Girl, I get the money part and that's great, but 6 out of 10 paintings you make are of Joker. I really want to believe it's just for the money. This guy is a psychopath, he's the worst criminal we've seen in years, he's dangerous, deranged and highly intelligent, unlike our bestie over here. Do you understand? Don't play with fire.' That had been Blair's last advice to you on the subject, and as far as she was concerned, you had taken it.

They wouldn't get it. You sure as hell didn't understand why you couldn't stop painting him in the downfall of a burning Gotham, you only knew him from so many different accusatory accounts, you should have despised him. But no. You'd known Arthur. Every piece of information that reached you went through a dangerous filter, one that made you rationalize his criminal behavior to satisfy your yearning for him, even if you were painfully aware he had the most luxurious company at his side at the snap of his fingers.

Along with covering the canvases, you'd also thinned down on your 'expert opinions' when they came by, even as they continued expanding on the details of his psychological profile, his narcissistic temperament and the ruthless murders, as if to snap you back to reality. Somehow Joker had become the poster boy for all criminal organizations in this city, including the legal ones. His criminal profile had been hyperbolized to fit every trick in the book, burying the Police in paperwork. A bunch of hypocrites your friends were, adorable, caring, dedicated and you loved them to bits, but hypocrites nonetheless. You were not even in the same ballpark as obsessed with this clown as they had been of late.

The little time you spent out of the house only made you despise the city even more. One Thursday evening you returned from your weekly errand to a living room reeking of cigarettes, window closed, and your Joker portraits unraveled, the white sheets at the feet of your easels. You were always careful to empty the ashtray and leave a window creaked for airing out. But the ashtray was half full, three cigarette buds a shade of red you didn't own. Your limbs petrified, your nervous system on edge, your sensory perception at its peak. On the coffee table, a card. A Joker card. On it in a messy handwriting:

‘Should I take you out for dinner now that we're so intimately acquainted with each other?’

The self preservation instincts had finally kicked in, better late than never. Shaking, you reached for your hidden gun and searched all rooms with lights on everywhere. Calling Blair, you stopped for a second. You looked at your intimidating magnum opus, all your fears and anxieties, your deepest most unknown desires projected on canvas. His facial complexion smirked nonchalantly as you stumbled around your own house, desperately trying to grasp at the rational thought of calling the Police and getting 24h surveillance. But you didn't.

Diligently you shut all windows and doors locked tight. Gun under the pillow, you barely closed an eye that night, torn between a feverish curiosity and crippling fear of death, but those feelings quickly diluted into each other. It wasn't Joker reaching out that petrified you, it was your own utterly irrational reaction to that calling. You wanted to let go into this so badly it made you sick to your stomach.

Nothing for days. You couldn't understand what happened and conferring with your friends on the matter was less than ideal. They'd actually been busier than usual lately, you'd just realized. Yet that initial fright had come and gone, to leave a feeling of anxiety that nothing was going to happen. This was crazy. Every fiber was calling out on the red flags, but you'd just throw some white paint on them and turn them pink.

One week later, you'd ran your usual errand but you'd forgotten to check if your windows had been shut tight. You hadn't realized until returning home to another cigarette scented scenery, with another card, same spot, and a box next to it.

‘Well well well. That was clear enough for me. Saturday 9 PM, meet me downstairs. Wear this.’

You were ashamed. Ashamed and disappointed with the swarm of butterflies in your stomach. In the box, a Pin up red dress. Within seconds you were already feeling yourself through its fabric, another seemingly thoughtless action on your part. One could actually call it conservative if the color wasn't so damn alluring. Your size, your style, or maybe the style you'd never dared wear out in public. The bastard must have gone through your dressing...

Utterly nerve wrecking and inflammable, and you were mad for simply even entertaining the thought, but those quick sands went deep and too fast for comfort. The temptation that had teased and tortured you for so many months was now palpable, the only way to tame the urges was to just stop fighting. You'd lost your mind entirely for taking it seriously, and yet you did, without a shred of hesitation. Seriously enough to spend all Friday getting dolled up from head to toe, reveling in your little secret. If I'm about to die, then at least I should be impeccable.

On your way back you'd noticed a brisk in your step, you couldn't wait to hop in the shower and unwind the tension in your bones. One more day to go, no reason to become flustered just now, even if you’d spent all day thinking about the feel of his skin against your fingertips, the taste of his mouth, his weight on your body. It was driving you rabid for him, Arthur's eyes flashing before yours with every blink.

Home was cozy. As you left it. Good. Within a few seconds, your body moved to Sinatra's tune as you undressed sensually, already feeling him under your skin. Your covers were not the only ones going down tonight, you unraveled your magnum opus and danced sensually to it, just as it made you feel - sexy, seductive, wanted. Somehow it felt like appropriate preparation. You were an artist after all, you could express yourself through dancing just as well, and your moves poured naturally at the lascivious thoughts going through your mind.

Within minutes, hot water splashed and trickled down every inch of your body, your palm cheekily washing your shame as your thoughts sunk into the deepest abyss. An overflow of anticipation coupled with a long lasting frustration made you go a bit further than usual. You thought that getting your release on your armchair, spread out in full sight of his portrait, would protect you from yourself tomorrow. Just the thought of coming for him felt like lighting a fuse that was strapped to your body.

Stepping back into your studio, the towels fell at your feet to remain naked once more in front of your spectacle of color. Freshly lit cigarette in hand, smoke blanketing the canvas, trickles of water dripping from your hair down your spine, your foot bouncing giggly to Sinatra.

‘Don't turn around.’

An acute sense of fear jolted through your bones. Instantly paralyzed, absolute horror and shame engulfed you, limbs contracting instinctively. A warm breath was brushing your neck, a vaguely familiar deep husky voice filling your senses as a lightning strike. A choked shriek was the only response your body could muster in this utter panic.

‘Shhh. I'm not going to touch you, I promise. Let me do the talking’ the voice whispered softly.

Your eyes were frantically trying to catch a glimpse in the dim light, but their focus inevitably returned to the smirking portrait.

‘This is not the city to leave your windows open like that, you know. There's dangerous criminals out there.’

You Adam's apple was clawing its way out of your throat, your brain alit like a Christmas tree as you felt him slowly take off his jacket and place it on your wet shoulders, gently restoring whatever shred was left of your decency.

‘Look at me asking you to put clothes on. Hmm. As much as I loved the surprise, I did show up uninvited and I don't want to rob you of your dignity in your own home.’

A hand reached out to yours and re-appropriated the half burned cigarette, the sound of inhaling smoke filling your ear.

‘What do you get when you cross a talented artist with a city that burns under its own demise? You get an invitation. With your Police escort on speed dial, one could be forgiven for holding their breath at the outcome. I was beginning to turn blue!’

That cigarette was being viciously assaulted at the back of your ear, the smoke deeply exhaled in your direction, yet the smell of fresh hair dye was overpowering.

‘You see, I'd been thinking. What's her reaction going to be when she sees this new me for the first time? With what I have planned, I would've robbed myself of that moment... so I decided that I should pay you a more... intimate introductory meeting, on your own court, where you feel more comfortable…’

Was that… a shy chuckle you'd heard?

‘What am I to do now. I came here to introduce myself and put an actual face to those portraits before our first date, but now I’m sure the last thing you want is to face me. Ntz ntz ntz.’

He wasn’t wrong. Regardless of how fiercely you wanted to see him with your own eyes, you were utterly embarrassed at the state he'd found you in. Another cigarette lit up, burning as intensely as your core at the sound of his gentle voice, smoke blown towards the canvas before passing it back to your hand covered in the unmistakable crimson trademark.

‘Here, this might help you unwind, you're going to pop like a string any second now. I promise I won't touch you. I would have kept my jacket on if I had other intentions, you know?'

He was right, so you willingly accepted the cigarette and took out your fright and frustration on it entirely.

‘Hmm... let's start over. Hi Y/N. It's been a while since we last saw each other. Around a year if my memory still serves me. Let me ask you, did you start painting me before or after the Murray show? That is me, I presume. The resemblance is... uncanny.’

‘B... before', words stumbled off your lips.

‘How so?’ he chuckled inquisitively.

‘I did my buddy a solid and sketched your face after your first killing spree.’ You wished you had lied about that, but something told you Joker had done his homework before stopping by.

‘Oh so you're the one who started it all?’

‘Well, you appeared on TV a couple weeks later.’

You were a trembling leaf underneath his warm red blazer, intoxicated by that faint whiff of cologne and gasoline it gave off, his deep husky voice purring in your right ear, the smell of ammonia so acute you could taste it. You must have been sick the day they'd trained your precinct on how to face one’s most ardent desire in the flesh, also a murdering psychopath.

‘I had nothing else to lose. The Police was after me already, you witty thing.’

‘They're off your back now, aren't they?’

‘They are indeed. Well not publicly, but yeah. And... may I ask how that came to be?’

You had to regain some level of control in this situation; his tantalizing was incapacitating, but he’d indeed done you the courtesy of meeting you on your court, if he was being honest.

‘Is this an interrogation, Joker?’

‘Urgh. Feisty.’

‘Not at all... I'd like to know where I stand. I am naked in my home, fresh out of the shower, admiring my art. You sneak in, a total stranger, catching me as red-handed as I could possibly be...’

‘Well ... for that I should have given it 10 more minutes…’ he chuckled softly, proud of his witty joke.

A giggle burst out of you uncontrollably. How was he making you feel comfortable in this insanely flustering situation? Your privacy had been invaded by Gotham’s most wanted criminal, and yet you were sharing a cig and a giggle. You were just as certifiable as him for ignoring all the blazing red flags.

‘… I take that as a yes… And to be fair, I’m not a total stranger, am I? Your two friends seem to share an awful lot of sensitive information with a civilian, don't they know they could be putting you in harm's way?’

He had done his homework. Crimson red flag. And even with that knowledge, he had still broken into your home. You couldn't help but wonder what drove him to be here, breathing down your neck and flaming you up in the process.

‘I thought I heard you say you wouldn't touch me.’

‘And I am a man of my word. As a matter of fact, I’ve given your friends a real reason to justify their paychecks, on the other side of the city. I couldn't afford an interruption of such an... intimate moment, could I?’

‘You do that often?’

‘Perhaps.’

‘Hm. And did that start before or after I began painting you?’

‘Good question. Surely after… if you remember me back in the day, I wasn't really the type of man to have access to tracking down a person, and you'd disappeared into thin air. But here you were all this time, naked and flushed in front of my portrait. Why's that?’

What a way to steer the conversation and drive straight through your guard. A stark reminder of who was in control, in case you had forgotten.

‘I ... I was preparing for tomorrow.’

Another shy chuckle brushed over your ear.

‘Why, what's tomorrow? I thought it was just our first date. It wasn't mentioned in the dating rulebook that it would contain indecent exposure', he said in a sly, pout tone.

Another giggle made you roll your eyes at yourself for falling so easily into his crafty traps. This devil was raking you up like a witch on a stake.

‘We must have the same edition of that rulebook. That's why I was preparing tonight.’

‘Ohhh, now I see. Well I wouldn't presume to interrupt you.’

‘And yet, you did.’

‘Well well. Aren't you surprising? I did indeed. I should have just stayed in that dark corner like a predator stalking his prey. I'm pretty good at that. Instead, I fought myself to maintain a shred of decency, like the upstanding citizen that I am. Or maybe... I just wanted to break the rules and observe more closely. Who knows?’

Wearing that jacket or not, you were naked and exposed. You just couldn't resist him although your conscience was Blair-ing out to run the other way. He was so close you could feel the warmth of his body, all you wanted was to feel his arms around you, his lips on your face, the grip of his palms. He knew very well what he was doing to you.

‘I know one thing. You're surely not the shy Arthur I used to know.’

‘No, I am not. Not right now at least. Funny enough, that's who came in through that window, but I couldn't help it when that towel dropped to the floor. How wise of you to not start dancing just yet. To think I had come here to corrupt you…’

‘How ... long have you been here for?’ your heart galloped through your chest.

‘Long enough to know you haven't been home for a while. I had my lines ready and all, but you walked through that door and out of your clothes so fast, my oh my, I forgot every word. Hmm.' He took another long drag of the cigarette. 'So now, seeing how I’m such a man of my word, I'd better leave before I break my promise.'

‘Breaking my first promise to you would be a really bad start, even if I can't believe myself for not choosing the alternative. Especially... after that shower scene...’

His purring husky voice had given you the most intense session of muscle clenching all this time, your whole body aching with fever, afraid of how you'd react when he'd finally put his hands on you. You’d dreamed about this in so many ways, all those lonely nights and endless possibilities, but him leaving you before even touching you had not been one of those scenarios. Was that relieving, or painfully frustrating? You were such a hot mess already, your mind in muddy waters.

No no no, you felt a whimpering voice begging at the back of your mind. Shameful to the core for who you identified with, but maybe he was simply bringing out a side that you were tired of pretending you were not. He wasn't about to step through that window pristine, like a perfect gentleman on a first date. You wanted… no, needed something from him that would help forget the shame he caused with catching you red-handed.

‘And what would the alternative be?’ you slightly turned your head towards his, barely grazing a glance of his profile, so close you could almost taste his ragged cigarette breath as he leaned to your ear slowly.

‘… I'd touch you on your face. Just the tips of my fingers. I'd put my cheek to your cheek, rub it so softly’, the tone of his voice had dropped an ocrave into a tantalizing purr, irrevocably seeping beneath your skin.

‘... would you kiss me?’

‘I would...", the clarity of his words betraying a wide smile your eyes couldn't see, but your ears could not mistake. 'I'd take your head into my hands, and kiss the corner of your mouth…’

‘Go on…’ muscles contracted with no control, your mouth having a mind of its own.

‘I'd run my fingers down your neck to your chest... I’d kiss your breasts...' a groan cut through the maddening silence of the room straight to the pinnacle of your core. 'I’d put my mouth on you... I’d taste you... ohhh I’d taste every drop of you...’

‘Oh god...’ an undisciplined moan broke free without reserve.

‘And only then I’d slowly put myself into you, all the way inside you...' with every word he'd gotten closer to your ear, his breath turning your entire skin to prickles, within and without. 'I’d make you feel wanted and adored and aching to come for me… cause that's how I imagine you every night…’

He was panting just as much as you were, although savoring every whimper from your lips, even more so as you had been biting them in a failed attempt to control yourself. Hearing his whispered confession had gotten you visibly dizzy, your hyperventilating lungs a delicious treat he was savoring as he took in a deep breath of your hair's scent.

‘Now you tell me… what sort of a gentleman would I be if I did that? The purpose of this rendezvous was to make us less tense for tomorrow. I guess the joke was on me', he took a small step back as if struggling with the same attempts at self control.

Holy shit, your body was a trembling leaf amidst a tropical storm, he had drenched you without a single touch. Never had you felt more helpless in your life, and yet so oddly liberated.

‘How thoughtful of you...’

‘You have no idea... But before I go, one small favor. After I leave, promise me you won't finish what you started.’ You needed a second to descend from the high into the realization of his ask.

‘And why would I do that?’ The sneaky bastard had just checked your king, any advantage swept from under your feet with one shrewd demand.

‘I want to spend the night thinking of you flushed, naked and wet. And all that while your body yearns for what it can't get.’

‘Will you keep an eye on me to make sure?’ your eyes had instinctively rolled at the impertinence of this clown pretenting to protect your dignity, when he'd just planted the most salacious thoughts in your mind.

‘Perhaps.’

‘Will you be keeping the same promise too?’

‘Kitten, I’m keeping a promise right now. I think that's enough for one night', he chuckled his check mate.

‘I'll give your privacy back for tonight. I trust you'll be a good girl. Now if you'll excuse me, it's a bit chilly outside so I’ll need this back. Au revoire, mademoiselle’

What sort of a criminal keeps his promises?! You could taste the erotic agony he was letting you simmer in as he put the red blazer back on and backed up to the window, his shoes screeching the floor, your skin burning at the thought of his last gazes over it.

Off he was in an instant, as nimble as a cat. Tire screeches resounded shortly after his descent from your window, a black SUV removing him from the premise before you could see his face. Only a few glimpses of the distant shape of his body, the red suit and green hair adorning him so alluringly. As you turned around, the portrait of him awaited with that sly devilish smirk you had worked so hard to capture, the clock above pointing 11:12 PM.

#joker fanfiction #joker fanfic #joker x you #joker #Joaquin Phoenix #joker x reader #arthur fleck #joker arthur fleck

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nickcifonie · 4 years ago

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In 2021, Anyone Can Make $ Playing Video Games!

I grew up playing games like Risk, Monopoly, a little Chess... and still remember buying my first computer somewhere around 1986 solely to play a computer game on. It was an Apple IIc, and that first game was some type of Pirate Adventure. I wish I remembered the name. It wasn’t all that good, but still, I was hooked!

Since that first adventure, I’ve spent thousands of hours as well as dollars playing just about every type of digital game that has followed! PC games, Atari, Wii, mobile games... you name it, I play it! I’d always generalize the cost (to myself at least) thinking “some guys play golf 3 days a week at $100 a round... I play computer games”.

That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it! However, the story has changed...

“Pay to Play” has become “Play to Earn”!

If you would be to search terms like “crypto games”, “blockchain games”, “make money playing video games”, and others, you’d find some really incredible statements. Today, quotes like the ones below are becoming more and more common!

“I made $400 last week playing a computer game” “I just sold my RPG character for $200 profit”

“I was offered $1k for a skin for my laser rifle of doom” (I made up the “laser rifle of doom” part)

“I bred my pet thingamajig yesterday and sold the baby!” (it’s digital, for those of you wincing)

In 2021, thanks to the blockchain, there’s a growing community of gamers who are making real dollars daily, mining, fighting, shooting, jumping... all while playing the same type of mobile and PC games that you had to PAY to play just a short while ago...

...but let’s start at the beginning.

You paid $172,000 for a what!?

Yes... all the way back in 2018 a CryptoKitty named “Dragon” was sold for an incredible $172,000. (300 ETH) Don’t be too surprised, it’s justified! It’s an adorable digital image, or “NFT” of a cat, after all.

It’s a lot of money, but for NFTs and blockchain gaming, flipping a Kitty today may as well be considered the stone ages. It’s still a record, but while you can still get started collecting these digital felines for as low as a couple of dollars, big-dollar trades still happen daily.

On the flip side of mortgaging your home to buy a digital picture of a CryptoKitty, Bored Ape, or CryptoPunk, you may feel better if you begin your adventure into making crypto (it’s real money, dear!) by playing a video game where you can “make money” instead of spending it.

I’m not saying owning a CryptoKitty or any of a plethora of “Avatar NFTs” we see popping up on various exchanges isn’t one way to do it... I’m saying to me at least, as a life-long gamer I’d much prefer playing a mobile, console, or PC game to collecting pictures in a digital wallet.

So what the heck is an NFT?

I could go into a long explanation... but since this article is about gaming and not cryptocurrency, I’ll tell you an NFT is a “non-fungible token”, and leave you google it if you really want to dig in deep. I do want to share more, so I’ll ‘splain it as simple as I can for you Lucy!

A CryptoKitty, as stated above, is a type of image called an NFT. (the collection is called “CryptoKitties) It’s a digital picture of a cartoon cat. There are thousands of different ones that have different shapes, colors, expressions and traits. (kind of like a real cat, but eats less)

The difference, is only one of each design is actually a legitimate “CryptoKitty”. (or a legitimate whatever type of image it happens to be) To be clearer... each NFT is a “one of a kind”, so if you’re thinking “but can’t I just make a copy?”, nope you can’t.

I mean... you “can” make a copy of it if you really dig the design and want it on your desktop, but it would only be a copy of that particular NFT, not the real McCoy! Ok... so what makes one real, and the rest fakes? The blockchain.

Now, I’m going to be true to my word and keep my promise of not making this an article about crypto or the blockchain, so just know this: the difference between an image that is an actual NFT, and a copy of one, is there is an underlying digital code that designates the real thing.

So real in fact, that artists are creating or importing their paintings and creations to the web as NFTs, numbering them as they would a lithograph, and selling their entire collections. So if you are an art fan, check with your favorite creators... you may be surprised to find all of their “works of art” on an online marketplace!

NFTs are viewed on certain marketplace websites and digital wallets where the copies cannot be displayed, so that is how we know one is real, and the others are not! Having said that, sure, there’s more to it, but just know that there’s a 100% secure way of knowing an image is a real NFT.

In addition, there can be more than one NFT with the same identical image. However, each has a unique underlying code, so even if they look exactly the same, they are not! Look at it like the playing cards or comic books of old... there may be 1,000 created (or “minted” as it’s called in NFT land) but they will each be numbered 1 to 1,000.

And guess which is more valuable.....? I knew you’d get it!

And these NFT’s make money how?

You’re getting warmer! There are a lot of different types of games coming out these days where you can make money playing. There are RPG’s, MOBA’s, Shooters, games in first person and in third, dungeon crawls... you name it!

If you’re thinking “how did I not know this!”, I was the same until recently! I have been gaming almost daily since I stepped into Ultima Online back in 1997, and I can’t even begin to tally how many hours and/or dollars I’ve invested into gaming.

Now, our hobby pays!

After 30-something years, my wife still thinks I’m bonkers... but I got a totally different look from her a few days ago when I told her I sold my game character for well over $200. Legit. I sold two more yesterday, and another this afternoon.

Some of these only cost me $10 or $15, some much more. Some are free. I sold another NFT character last week for $1,950, and it was sold on the game’s website, not on the black market.

So not only can an NFT be a picture of an Ape, Vegetable, Duck, or Stripper on a pole (we’ll leave it at that) but it can be a character in a game, a weapon, a mount, armor, or more.

One game is giving away free pet turtles with each character. For the uneducated on “pets” in computer games, it’s not the kind you keep in a bowl in your bedroom. It’s a companion that fights with you in an online game and may shoot fire from its eyes, heal you, or similar.

Soon after being handed out for free, they’re now selling for around $60 each.

So an NFT can be an image, a video, music, a meme... or even a shirt or shoes! But we’ll leave the NFT clothing explanation to another article. ;)

Remember that rare skin you paid out the nose for a year ago in Apex? Or the L33T character you built up in Fortnite or Warcraft? If you’re no longer playing that game, it’s money under the bridge. And you don’t own the bridge!

In this new breed of blockchain games, you could have LEGALLY sold that character, skin, weapon, land, house, mount, or whatever it was when you tired of the game. For a profit. Maybe for a LARGE profit.

Yes, in the past we were able to find ways to get around the system and dump our pixels from time to time. We’d sell the account on the black market, or cut a deal with someone like a drug dealer on a Chicago Street corner. Then we’d over who went first...

“You give me the account and weapon first!” “No you give me the money first”. Sometimes the deals even went through. Others well... let’s just say half of the parties walked away happy.

I made good money when after 4 years of daily playing I sold my Ultima Online account for somewhere around $2,000, but I needed to find a trustworthy “go-between” to broker the deal. Even then, I was sweating it!

With today’s crypto games, not only do the games provide the platform to buy, sell, or trade your character and items, but it’s encouraged, and done with good old U.S dollars! I’ve made $ playing 4 or 5 different games already this week, as well as flipping (buying low and selling higher) NFT characters!

How else can I make money playing games?

The way you earn varies from game to game, but each week seems to reveal another new strategy, platform, or idea. Many are new strategies, and while some have “triple A” 3D animation and graphics, others are simpler and use basic one-dimensional graphics for the gameplay.

Some of these games are actually tied to a token on the blockchain. The game developer creates their own token, not too unlike Bitcoin or Ethereum, and it can be bought or sold on the open market as well as used in the game as currency.

Could you imagine if back in League of Legends, Guild Wars or Final Fantasy, when you were ready to move to a new game, you could sell or easily convert your gold to cash? Some of today’s blockchain games encourage it!

Not only can you now buy and sell characters and weapons, the gold in the game can be traded, bought, sold, or saved like real currency, stocks, crypto, or collectables. Never have I been as excited about PC and mobile gaming as I am today!

As an example, I am doing some work for a new game that will launch soon called Pepper Attack. Pepper Attack has its own token or coin... called MYTE. It can be used in the game as currency, but also be traded like Bitcoin. A lot of today’s blockchain games offer this same benefit.

Hi ho, hi ho, it’s off to mine I go!

Just by owning an NFT from the game, you can login on a daily basis and click “mine” earning real-value tokens passively. Your Pepper goes to work like one of the 7 Dwarves mining MYTE, and later on you can convert it to other tokens or cold, hard cash.

There's more to do in this particular game as well. Like any good RPG or MMORPG, each pepper has a unique combination or skills like attack, defense, evade, hit points, and more. As an example of the possibilities, if you have a high attack score, other characters will be able to pay you in MYTE to “train” them, raising their score as well.

In addition, these NFTs have unique physical traits, some are common and some are very rare. This game in particular have toons that look more like anime-ish elves with weapons and a stem... I have to admit the artwork is really spicey! (see what I did there?) Other games are of course totally different.

Some people will simply collect these NFTs/characters as an investment, like playing cards or comics. Others will use them in the game, and still others will do both. Either way, they can be held, or sold for a profit!

Unlike the games of the past, when you’re ready to move on you don’t walk away and lose all the $ you have spent for characters, skins, weapons, potions, and other items. When you’re done, you’ll be able to sell your character and items... possibly for a profit... maybe a lot of profit... and move on.

These are not your father’s computer games!

As we move ahead in the genre, we are seeing AAA studios coming out with big-dollar productions, like Blankos, Mist, Illuvium, Ember Sword and others. Some of these games actually let you buy the land you build on!

Did you have your own house in Ultima Online, Star Wars Galaxies, or Archeage? What if you could have used It as a shop and been paid in dollars for your wares, rented it to another player, or sold it for cold hard cash at a huge profit down the road?

In many of today’s games, not only is it common, but extremely hard to come by, and quite expensive. Not only are people paying thousands of dollars for a plot in some of the games that have land, but they’re paying it many months before the game is even released.

They do it, because in many cases they know that they can easily 2X, 10X, or even 50X their investment a short piece down the road. Seriously? Seriously... and the early bird catches the worm!

Other games with lesser budgets are more graphic-based, but have super earnings potential as well, and are just as fun to play. These include Splinterlands, (a card game like Magic!) Crypto Blades, Axie Infinity and more.

Regardless of if the new blockchain game of your choice is a RPG, MOBA, a card game or racing game... the fact that you can put some coin into your pocket playing adds a whole new element. It’s heckafun making money playing a game!

The early nerd catches the worm!

In many cases, if you can catch a game before it releases, the land, characters, weapons, and other items... in most cases all NFTs... can be grabbed at a tiny fraction of the future value.

Of course, always check out the game details and team first, and be confident it’s a good place to put your money. Not all games are made the same.

If you’re lucky enough to find out about and partake in an early sale, for example, like grabbing a character NFT or two in “Pepper Attack” before the late September launch date, you may be in for a real treat!

There are plenty of new titles coming down the pipe that look to be fun, have great communities, and offer earning opportunities. A web search will find services and websites that will keep you on your toes and alert you of upcoming blockchain game releases, marketplace opening, and more.

As we look forward, the future of gaming on the blockchain is really, really exciting! Not only are the games getting better and more fun, but they’re getting better at making the economics work more smoothly as well.

The games are not without challenges, as they need to be made to sustain themselves economically over the long haul. In addition, they need to have higher levels of security (thanks blockchain!) and of course, work without becoming “pay to win”. Thankfully, the new breed of developers have risen to the challenge!

The next time you look for a new game to add to your phone or desktop, or just want a change of pace, look to a game that pays to play! Your wallet might thank you.

Another perk, is your husband or wife will appreciate it as well! Instead of hearing “are you going to play that stupid game all night again?”, you may start to hear things like “I’ll put the kids to bed tonight sweetheart, so you can get online and play”.

One can only hope...

Author - Nick Cifonie

Nick is a lifelong gamer, who cut his teeth at the local Chicago arcade playing Tetris as a teen. Better known as Znick or Deacon Z, Nick became a Game Master in Ultima Online in 1997, ran a large multi-game guild for 15 years, and now spends his time in the “play to earn” arena. Professionally, Nick is a writer and 4-decade marketer working with the Pepper Attack team, as well as others. Nick is also a Catholic Deacon.

#nftart #nft marketplace #nftdrop #nftgallery #nftnews #nftcrypto #cryptoart #nftcommunity #nftartist #crypto #blockchain #nonfungibletokens #nft games #nft

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woman-loving · 5 years ago

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LBT Women and US Black Feminist Organizations in the 70s

Selection from Living for the Revolution: Black Feminist Organizations, 1968-1980, by Kimberly Springer, 2005.

This selection discusses how the issue of lesbianism figured in the collective identity of black feminist organizations in the 70s. It notably describes the incorporation of an antiheterosexism statement by the East Coast branch of the Third World Women’s Alliance in the 1972 issue of their newsletter, Triple Jeopardy, predating the Combahee River Collective Statement by several years.

It also gives an account of a black trans women who joined the National Alliance of Black Feminists after hearing the leader speak at one of her college classes. However, the leader later outed her to the group, and the woman--who is misgendered in the interview--stopped attending after being “confronted” by other members. Despite its transmisogynistic conclusion, the account raises the possibility that other trans women may have also taken interest in and attempted to attend early black feminist organizations.

There isn’t a focus on bisexuality in this selection, but a lesbian founder of the National Black Feminist Organization mentions that the organization was “multisexual” in that it had straight women, bisexuals, and lesbians.

These accounts also remind us to be attentive to the fact that lesbian, bisexual, and trans women don’t only organize in LGBTQ-specific movements, but may also be promoting their concerns through other movements.

Sexual Orientation and Black Feminist Collective Identity

Again, it is important to return to the distinctions among the black feminist movement, the separate organizations' visions of black feminism, and black feminist collective identity. While the black feminist movement's initial vision did not include sexual orientation as a defining aspect of black women's identity, individual organizations and members articulated lesbian-positive and/or antiheterosexist principles to the movement's vision. The NABF [National Alliance of Black Feminists, 1976-1979], NBFO [National Black Feminist Organization, 1973-1975], and BWOA [Black Women Organized for Action, 1973-1980] included discussions of sexuality in their organizations, but they did not interrogate heterosexism as an oppressive force in black women's lives, regardless of sexual orientation.[46] However, the East Coast branch of TWWA [Third World Women’s Alliance, 1968-1980] and Combahee [River Collective, 1974-1980] both laid the foundations for challenging heterosexism and including lesbianism as an integral part of the black feminist movement.

Combahee was the only organization in this sample to mention "heterosexual oppression," but it did not thoroughly explain this form of oppression and its impact on black women's identities. The term heterosexism, the normativity of heterosexuality, was not yet in use among activists.[47] However, most readers of Combahee's statement may have deduced the implicit meaning of heterosexual oppression as heterosexism or homophobia. For other readers, the Combahee statement was possibly the first time they were force to recognize publicly black lesbian existence, the daily oppression black lesbians face, and the considerable sexual diversity within black communities.

Combahee was on the front lines of black lesbian feminist struggle in the 1970s, yet the statement neglected to specify the ways black communities were complicit in perpetuating heterosexism. [...] The Combahee statement omitted an explicit challenge to heterosexism, due to the timing of the organization members' individual coming-out processes and the desire to explain feminism on its own merit. [Barbara] Smith and other Combahee members strategically claimed a black and feminist identity before they claimed a lesbian one, though they claimed all three equally. For Combahee members, the separate emergence of feminist and lesbian consciousness undermined stereotypes of all feminists as lesbians and all lesbians as feminists. For people who relied on this analogy, feminist and lesbian were conflated identities and the sum total of a black feminist identity. The Combahee statement sought to disrupt this conflation. To a degree, an explication of black heterosexism was present, but underarticulated in the interest of establishing the foundational basis of solidarity between Combahee's black feminism and black communities. Still, lesbian visibility was a courageous and revolutionary move for Combahee to make, particularly in a social movement environment often divided by homophobia.

Predominantly white feminist organizations experienced lesbian/straight splits that divided organizations and disrupted a unified definition of feminist identity. Of the five black feminist organizations, only the TWWA's members recall an expulsion of lesbians similar to the homophobia that gave rise to the "Lavender Menace" in NOW [National Organization for Women].[49] Homophobia erupted in both the East and West Coast branches of the TWWA and impacted the development of their feminist collective identities. How these two branches of the same organization handled issues of lesbian inclusion and homophobia differed dramatically.

It is unclear whether the West Coast heterosexual members, succumbing to fears of lesbian baiting, expelled lesbian members or whether members who were lesbians, weary of homophobia, left the organization. Regardless of that distinction, the West Coast branch lost several members who were central to running the organization. The expulsion acted directly against the established principles of the TWWA, but there were no formal sanctions against the West Coast branch.

On the East Coast, [Frances] Beal recalls, the organization was approached by out lesbians about membership. Unlike the schisms of the West Coast, the East Coast TWWA eventually saw the inclusion of lesbians as an opportunity for growth in its organizational objectives:

"Beal: That was the other ideological fight that we had, which was important. We were approached by two lesbians ... who said, "Listen, we want to be completely honest: we're lesbians. There's no organization for us." One was Puerto Rican, one was black ... so we had a big discussion about that. Some people said, "Oh, my god. We have enough problems as it is! People are already calling us lesbians." That was another thing. We were lesbian-baited. ... Two people said that they were lesbians, and we had this big discussion whether we should do this and some people said no, we shouldn't do it.

Interviewer: Allow them to be in the group?

Beal: Yeah. And finally, like I said, we had all this debate. People were very honest in terms of discussion and feelings and stuff, but finally people said, "In New York, how can we do this? I mean, we can't really turn sisters away. If they agree with the political orientation and purpose of the organization, there's no way that we can be prejudiced." So we came up with this, what I consider now--from what I understand about the gay and lesbian movement now--we came up with this very liberal position. Whether it's biological or social--you know, homosexuality--people should not be prejudiced and discriminated against. That was, basically, the position. ... And a couple women left over that. They said, "no." They had enough problems as it was. They didn't want to be lesbian-baited. [...]”

Beal cogently deconstructed the intent of lesbian baiting: it split the organization interpersonally and ideologically. In response, the East Coast branch incorporated an antiheterosexist position into the TWWA's principles of struggle, recognizing the connections between patriarchy and homophobia: "Whereas behavior patterns based on rigid sex roles are oppressive to both men and women, role integration should be attempted. The true revolutionary should be concerned with human beings and not limit themselves to people as sex objects. Furthermore, whether homosexuality is societal or genetic in origin, it exists in the third world community. The oppression and dehumanizing ostracism that homosexuals face must be rejected and their right to exist as dignified human beings must be defended."[51]

This statement, appearing in the 1972 issue of Triple Jeopardy, is not only politically progressive for the early 1970s, but is chronologically well in advance of Combahee's later assertion of the existence of lesbians and gay men in black communities. Hence, when Combahee is cited for its pioneering efforts to expand the black feminist agenda to include antiheterosexism, the work of the East Coast TWWA should also be recalled.

Not all black feminists or organizations openly opposed homophobia, and some were restrictive in their definitions of sexual freedom. Some members of the NABF, for example, did not want to discuss lesbianism in their consciousness-raising groups, committees, or Alternative School workshops on sexuality. The intricacies of black sexual diversity were decidedly marginal to some NABF members' definitions of black female sexuality.[52] [Brenda] Eichelberger recounts an incident in which she revealed that someone attending the NABF's monthly meetings was transgendered:[53]

“Eichelberger: We even had one time, and I don't remember the person's name--in retrospect, I should have said nothing, but I'm the one that brought it up--I brought up the fact that there was a man at our meetings. That this was a man in drag. This was a--I won't say, "drag." This was a man who was dressed like a woman. And actually what made him come ... was a professor at U of I [Illinois]. ... She was a black woman. She had me speak to her class, and this guy was there at the time--dressed like a woman all the time.

Interviewer: In class?

Eichelberger: Yeah, in the class and then he joined our organization. Now, I shouldn't have--well, of course, coulda', shoulda', woulda'--I can't change the past. But anyway, I know at one time I mentioned--because he was coming to the meetings--and I mentioned--I said, "You know we have someone here who was a man." And, um, I think some women knew who it was, and others were saying "Who? Who? Who? Who?" And, so, a number of women got very upset, and they wanted to confront him and they did confront the guy. [...]

[Janie] Nelson: This was actually a man who had had a sex operation and was now a female. And we were real concerned about that. I remember Brenda calling up the members saying "What should we do? What should we do?" Because if we put him out, he could sue us [because of the NABF's nonprofit status] ... and luckily, things petered out. He just disappeared. He didn't come back. [...]”

Rather than attempt to understand gender identity and how this particular female/male conceptualized existence as a woman in the organization, some members of the NABF pushed her/him out of the organization with their limited knowledge of transgender identity and homophobia.[55]

The incident within the NABF highlights a number of issues that occurred in black and feminist organizations in the 1970s. It is too simple to conclude that black feminists were conservative and counter to the sexual revolution ethos of "anything goes." Despite the NABF's claims to legal concerns, all feminist organizations, irrespective of race, faced a lack of language to describe the diversity within biological sex and gender, homophobia, and fear of difference.

Some lesbian NABF members felt other members were homophobic and that the organization's activities did not reflect black feminist collective identity in its entirety. Looking for affirmation and advice, Chicago NBFO chapter members such as Sharon Page Ritchie asked other black feminist organizations for guidance. Upon learning of Combahee's plans for a black feminist retreat in Boston, she wrote this in reply to Combahee's 1977 preretreat survey: "The small NBFO chapter we have exhausted itself in trying to counter [a local black feminist leader]. We never got much past C-R [consciousness raising], and eventually we stopped meeting for that. How have other women dealt with women who claim to be feminist, yet behave in very anti-woman, anti-lesbian ways."[56] Ritchie's query and the aforementioned incident with the NABF's transgendered recruit connect two issues: black women's divergent definitions of black feminist identity and the homophobia of heterosexual black women. In response to accusations of homophobia in the NABF, Eichelberger resolves the issue as one of members differing expectations[...]. [...]

Eichelberger conceptualized the NABF as an umbrella organization. From her perspective, lesbians who wanted more of a focus on "a lesbian agenda" should have used the NABF as a resource to start independent organizations. Eichelberger and Nelson group lesbians with other groups of women they labeled as "factions," for example, socialists in the organization, but to frame lesbians as a special interest group ignores discrimination and the heterosexual privilege of straight black women. Members who agreed with Eichelberger saw lesbian as a category separate from feminist. Although they wanted to broaden the feminist agenda to include race, some heterosexual members of the NABF effectively excluded sexual orientation, and its implications for heterosexual women's sexuality, from the agenda of the NABF.

In other black feminist organizations, lesbians and straight women worked together to varying degrees of success. Generally, those organizations (e.g. the NBFO and Combahee) were founded by lesbians and included opposition to homophobia by integrating an antiheterosexist position into black feminist collective identity. Eichelberger and [Margaret] Sloan note that most NBFO members knew that Sloan was a lesbian and respected her role in starting the organization.[58] Still, there were some members, lesbian and heterosexual, who had problems with her prominent role in the organization. One concern was that Sloan's lesbianism would deter potential constituents and allies from supporting NBFO. Similar to the TWWA's struggles concerning homophobia. Sloan, Eichelberger, and [Deborah] Singletary recall debates about lesbianism and heterosexual women's concomitant fear that they would be seen as lesbians by association.[59] Sloan did not see external homophobia as a concern of the NBFO, but she believed that internal homophobia slowed down the organizations' momentum:

"It [the ideological dispute] was just stuff about race, and there was ideological stuff about whether we were going to--the group was multisexual. I mean, there were straight women and bisexuals and lesbians. And I think that there was a fear that people would think that we were a lesbian organization--God forbid--so they didn't want us to--those of us who were lesbians--I think that they wanted to sort of keep that--it was sort of like NOW in the early days. You know, "We know you're running this. We know you're the best, but let's keep that down." ... So stuff like that, you know, any time a group of women gather people assume you're lesbian, so that was what they said about a lot of organizations during that time. It wasn't a big concern--it wasn't a big, big issue, but it was a concern. It was a concern."[60]

Similarly, Jane Galvin-Lewis and Deborah Singletary, in nothing the role of lesbians in starting the NBFO, remark on the reverberations of homophobia from within and without the organization:

“Galvin-Lewis: And even though that is the case people have this notion, "Oh yeah, well, you know, if they had a man they wouldn't be pro-woman." And it's much like the race thing. You know, if you're pro-black it doesn't mean you have to be antiwhite. And to be profemale does not mean you have to be antimale. But because we were going with the feminist notion and people had their own ideas about it being a gay organization, which it never was, was never intended to be, and that was not the point. But it kept raising its head. ... Then, on the other hand, we had those people when we just--as women--we would want to take a stand on a position that had to do with gay women--we got the overwhelming groundswell of people that felt, "Oh, no! Don't touch that. That's not what we want to be about. ..." I'm just saying that had raised its head several times, as I recall, and we never gave into because it was not our point. That's not what we wanted to be about. We wanted to be about women--not any gay women, straight women--we wanted to be about women.

Singletary: We did have a committee called "Triple Oppression: Being Black, Female, and Lesbian," and they formed to deal with some of the gay issues.

[Eugenia] Wilshire: But I think it's to the credit of the organization that that [a gay/straight split] was not what split it--ever.

Galvin-Lewis: No. It wasn't. ... It never took hold, but it was raised on several occasions. And on the other side it was raised on several occasions.”[61]

The NBFO, despite outside criticism, was one of the few black feminist organizations besides Combahee to have a committee dedicated to connecting the concerns of black lesbians to the organization's agenda. But the NBFO, like the NABF, had contested definitions of black feminist identity at work in the organization, this ideological dispute was only the beginning of the struggle to incorporate antiheterosexist principles into black feminist collective identity and the movement's vision more broadly.

The presence of lesbians or demands for inclusion did not disrupt black feminist organizations. But, the homophobia of heterosexual women stunted the growth of a cohesive black feminist collective identity. Although black lesbians were central to the formation of black feminist collective identity from the beginning, there were attempts to erase them from these organizations' historical narratives.

#lgbtq history #lesbian history #black history #black lgbtq history #feminist history #feminism #us history #black women #women of color #trans history #trans women #black feminism #kimberly springer

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natebuzzlover344 · 5 years ago

Text

First of all, i’m sorry for my english and grammar. And this is a chapter of one of my wattpad stories named “Cliché”

It’s a Mitch Rapp fanfiction, if you like it i will continue to translate it in english.

I don’t own this gif (take it from pinterest)

I stand in front of the mirror looking at my sad reflex. My skin is whiter than milk, and the dark circles around my eyes look awful to me, the redness of the bruise around my eyes has been pierced by small thin veins.

I'm in a tough, tough time. I do not feel well. It was as if all evil had come upon me. I take a foundation with two shades darker from the cherry blush on the table. I need to have a little color, I look like a corpse.

I pour a few drops into my palms and start stretching in front of me. My blue eyes, like the sea, watched as my face began to come to life.

At just twenty-three, my embers-black hair begins to turn white at the roots. The stress is too great. I'm surrounded by people, but I feel lonely. Empty inside.

After applying a layer of mascara on my long lashes, I get up from my chair and take my red dress off the bed.

The bitter taste of sadness is the only aroma I have been feeling for more than three years. The judgment of the people around me depresses me, as if cutting me in the flesh.

My name is Jenna Lockwood and I'm probably the most fake person you've ever met.

After I put on the dress, I look in the mirror and struggle to smile. The red dress fit perfectly on my waist, and the square neckline highlighted my golden necklace, received as a gift from a good friend. I untie my hair and let it fall, reaching close to my hips.

Now that I'm ready, it's time to leave for a new white night in which I will hide my sadness and insecurities behind a mask. White Nights for black days.

I walk in the door of the club excited by the colorful strobe lights and the catchy music that sings so loud it seems to shake the club. The smell of liquor and expensive perfume was all that pleased my nasal senses. People dancing perfectly to the music, lovers making obscene signs without inhibitions, drunks and drunks falling on the stairs in the bathroom, that's my world. The world without prejudices.

I make room using my elbows through the crowd to reach the bar on the side of the club. It seems that the handsome blonde with long hair up to his ears was working hard flaming a few glasses.

“Ohoo, my man!” I yell at him to hear the music and I lean over the bar to clap with him.

He has been my friend since childhood, somehow our friendship lasted despite the years. Although he does not agree with my lifestyle, he understands my pain and respects my decisions.

"Lanna, I thought you'd miss the party!" Michael replies with a wide smile on his face.

The blonde returns to take the bottle of bacardi, already knowing what I usually order, but tonight I thought of drinking something new.

"Why don't you make me a margarita?" I ask, raising both my eyebrows.

Michael smiles at me and takes a glass of daisy from his stand, then greases the top of the glass with water, then dips it in salt and then pours tequila and triple dry.

I could already feel salivating seeing the beautiful pale green liquid poured into the glass. To make matters worse, Michael squeezes another lemon and hands me my glass.

I take the money out of the black envelope but Michael stops me.

“You know the start is from me!” he says friendly.

“ I always forget, some interesting people?” I ask, sipping my glass.

"About that, I understand that friends of the owner will be coming tonight, some dubious ones, be careful ..." Michael informed me, looking around.

I nod and offer a kiss on the cheek. I wink at them, then walk away to the bar and join the crowd of people dancing as if there were no more tomorrow.

I begin to move to the rhythms of the song Feel so close, occasionally sipping from my glass. The taste of tequilla caresses my taste buds.

A tall man with an enviable athletic body had appeared in front of me. He wore a black T-shirt and a pair of jeans of the same color, torn, accessorized with a chain. His beard was a little overgrown, and his hair was quite long with a gorgeous brown.

I approached the charming man in the rhythm of the dance, putting the glass of daisies around his neck, then leaving it on a nearby table.

The mysterious brunette moved in decline with me, giving me a small smile. He wasn't the kind of boy you'd see everywhere, he had a unique face that stood out from the rest of the males around here. The rhythm of the music pushed me closer and closer to him.

I took the opportunity to look at him closely and feel my amber-colored eyes soften in his eyes, not to mention the small drops of honey that were hiding in his iris.

“I've never seen you here and believe me I come very often!” I whisper in his ear to hear the music.

“It’s the first time, this pleace is awesome!” He replied very excited.

The guy grabs my hand and spins me around, and with a strong pull I get to stick my chest tightly to his. I notice a few strands of hair settling over his eye so I reach for his hand and place his hair on his back.

It had been a while since we had been dancing, the songs seemed to change from second to second.

The rest of the evening I felt like in a story. I danced until I felt my sandals tighten and the kamikaze shots flowed incessantly around our necks. I was at the entrance of the club, the cool summer breeze drying the drops of water that flowed on my body. The handsome brunette takes a pack of cigarettes from his jeans pocket, then carries a cigarette with an orange filter in his mouth.

"My name is Lanna, I think you should know that we've been dancing for more than five hours," I say sarcastically.

“I’m Mitch, very glad to meed you, ma’ lady” he say very charming.

I watched him curiously as he drew so pathetically from the cigarette that it was almost over. It seemed to me that he was stressed, I had never seen anyone smoke a cigarette so quickly.

As soon as he throws the cigarette in the ashtray, he lights another cigarette. The silence of the night put me back in my bitter thoughts, I didn't want peace anymore. The silence depresses me. I stared blankly under the starry sky, searching for a lifeline in my own thoughts.

"Look up!" he tells me with a smile.

His voice instantly woke me from my thoughts, as if it were a crack that pulled me out of my trance.

I conform quickly and feel him wipe the underside of my eye with his fingertips.

"Your mascara had spread," he announced, smiling.

"Oh, thank you," I say through gritted teeth.

I look back at a fixed point and am blocked again by thoughts. I have become addicted to noise, the silence is stifling.

Two young people in love leave the club. A couple who have been visiting the area for more than half a year. I always tried them with admiration, in their case it seems that love and fun are on the same waterline.

This time they didn't come out with a smile up to their ears and holding hands. They seemed to be arguing.

"I'll put my hand in the fire in a few seconds because the guy will slap him," Mitch says, laughing as he looks at the two of them.

I see the skinny blonde slap him hard on the face, turning her head completely.

"She's going to leave now," Mitch continued, as if anticipating the couple's every move.

Indeed, the girl walks away, but the man grabs her arm and turns her away. The variety continues to quarrel, vaguely hearing the girl's tickled voice screaming at him. Probably fed up with the conversation, the man hurried back and entered the club nervously, leaving the girl with his eyes "in the sun".

"Sad show," He commented, lighting a third cigarette.

I take a pack of slim cigarettes out of my envelope and light one. I watched the blonde sit on the curb and cry with her head in her hands.

I never felt the taste of love, I had a few relationships, but I didn't bother. I didn't think anyone would ever love me, after all, if I don't love myself, what can I expect from people?

"I didn't think love hurt," I say, looking at the girl as she wipes her makeup off her face.

"It hurts harder than anything," He says seriously.

“Love shouldn't hurt ... Loneliness hurts, rejection hurts, losing a person hurts, envy hurts”

“Did you list some examples, or did you say what hurts you?” he asks, looking me straight in the eye.

His question had hit me in the head, keeping my mouth wide open looking at him confused. His question was like a slap in the face.

"Forgive me, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.You've changed since I went out, what's the matter with you, Lanna?”

Mitch kept in touch, emphasizing everything with his hand over mine. I look at him confused, trying to convey a state of frustration, then I start laughing amused. Confusion had appeared instantly on his face.

“Sorry, but I remembered those cliché scenes when the guy asks the girl if she's fine-“

"She's lying to him, telling him she's fine," he continued.

“Exactly!”

"Then let's do something else, what would you tell me Maybe we won't meet again, maybe the roads will bring us back again. Maybe we will become the memory of a pleasant night. We don't know what life has in store for us. You have nothing to lose.

His realism intrigued me. It implied to me that he was open-minded. I sigh, as if without that sigh I wouldn't have had the strength to speak.

“Have you ever felt depressed?" Instead of reassuring you, does it feel like eating live? I ask, sitting down on the metal bench next to me.

“ Yes, I have moments, but all these worries have a cause.”

“ I feel like I want to break up, like me. Sadness, suffering, hot tears and annoying looks.” I say sad

"Have you ever thought we'll drive too much?" he asks in a melancholy tone.

“We think too much about everything, every look, every text.”

“Maybe we should blame ourselves, maybe we will break our hearts, but personal mistakes that are just the basis of suffering. We build the walls ourselves.”

His words seemed to caress my soul, opening my eyes to new perspectives. Is it my fault for these cruel states? For years I threw the arrows of blame on my mother.

Stubborn by nature, I did not want to attest to the fact that I could be the creator of my own agony.

I watch the sky light up, helping the sun to reveal its hot rays, indicating to me that I should go home.

"And another night has passed," he sats, looking at the beautiful sunrise painting the sky in beautiful shades of pink and red.

"I think I should go home," I say, taking my phone out of the envelope and ordering an uber.

"Let's smoke one more cigarette," he says, as if he doesn't want tonight to end.

His words form a smile on my face. I take out a new cigarette and hold it to my lips, and he lights it with a lighter. Our eyes meet, and for a few seconds I forgot I had to smoke.

Looking at him more closely, I noticed small scarred cuts running down his rough face. I was so curious about him. What he does, what his passions are, what brings a smile to his face. On second thought, I didn't want this night to end either.

"I know it may sound cliché, and you may already know that, but you're very beautiful," he says, lost in my eyes.

I thank him and see a blue bay parked right in front of us. Looks like my uber has arrived and will break me from this desired moment.

"Looks like my car has arrived," I say through gritted teeth.

“I really liked this night, Lanna, I hope we meet again, maybe life will last with us” he blushed sincerely kissing my hand.

"I hope so."

I say goodbye to the man who gave me the most beautiful night and I get in the car, looking nostalgically as I walk away from him.

#dylan o brien #american assassin #mitch rapp #dylan obrien x reader #mitch rapp fanfiction #fanfiction

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