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#closed: chadwick
moorsmonster · 11 months
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the four sacred images that fill me with an unimaginable amount of serotonin
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collageofnudes · 4 months
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Cora Keegan by Chadwick Tyler
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lewismccartneys · 2 months
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no plot line, no idea, just me and rikma and this one line i can’t get out of my head—
“rikki doesn’t believe in second chances but emma believes in her anyway”
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h2oloversworld · 2 years
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personal-blog243 · 1 year
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Click on the link for a printable toolkit for how you can use Black Panther to fight racism, colonialism, etc.
Mitch has links to organizations and group discussion questions. It is printable and great for classroom use!
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mceproductions · 1 year
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youtube
Best of 2022 Music #5: Rihanna “Lift Me Up”
The power of grief and healing are much to bear.
It is fitting that with the difficulties in making Black Panther Wakanda Forever that we got to see one process at the forefront.
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Chadwick Boseman had impacted many lives.
So with the need to write in the stages of grief within Black Panther 2, we got an emotional climax as both Shuri and Letitia Wright were grieving on that beach.
With the backing sounds of Rihanna giving the process it’s much needed voice, she brings the feels here as this sinks in during the credits.
Definitely a powerful palate cleanser for the feels we just went through within 150 minutes.
SUM 22: Rihanna gives voice to all of us going through loss with her ode to the late Chadwick Boseman.
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lovingjingyuan · 3 months
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You're speaking out of line again
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Sunday is so handsome! He really is the most handsome man in Penacony. He even looks good when mad! My(our) pretty boy <3 Also mentions a side question In Pencony with Chadwick!
Warning: ooc? Toxic Sunday, toxic work environment
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"Just a moment," his soft gentle smile as he walks up to you and your patron. "Please I like to speak with you alone."
His eyes lay on you. Everything about him was angelic. The patron felt mesmerized by Sunday's angelic features. Sunday turns to your customer giving his professional demeanor.
"Apologies my dear guest, I'll have someone assist you in just a bit. I need to talk to my employee," Sundays brought his eyes towards you before grabbing your hand and leading you away.
Once out of the door, his grip became harsh and rough. He started to drag you to his office before closing the door then pushed you sitting on the couch as he approached you, towering over you like a fragile child.
"My dear... you of all people should know very well you're not supposed to interact with our guests like this."
You looked at him confused. You thought you did everything correctly. You were just assisting the guest, you followed all the manual and everything yet he still lectures you and only you. "But-"
His eyes hardened and he glared at you. You can see the jealousy tinted on his face arose.
"Do not interrupt me. I didn't ask for an explanation yet." He was always so much harsher on you.
He always expects the best from you. Behind the doors of his public image, he was stern, and cold a new person from the gentleness he puts out in public. Yet even with the angry expression his face was still of an angel.
"Why do you still take male guests? What? You're not satisfied so you need to start hauling over our guests?"
You were speechless at these accusations implying the kind of worker you weren't yet he kept dumping these infidelity statements at you.
"Speak," his voice averted to a more harsher and stern tone eyeing you while he crossed his arms.
Your words stumbled messy as you tried to explain without blowing up at him, yet you couldn't stop yourself from saying things that shouldn't have been said and were way out of topic.
Sunday's face darkens as he glares at you, "You're speaking out of line again." His voice was harsh and cold. Yet a bit of amusement in his eyes. "I'll cut out your pay for this month and you'll be held in a confined area of the dreamscape while we sort things out. Hope you can understand."
Your jaw dropped almost to the ground. Members of the Bloodhound Family dragged you away to a restricted area in the dreamscape.
Damn Sunday. You cursed as you sat on the desk. It was an empty room. A familiar room, all too familiar room. The same room they kept Chadwick's memory; isolating his memories from the world. The same room was kept from the public to punish people and take away their sense of rights.
And Sunday held you in there for a simple small argument. You did everything to try and satisfy him yet it was never enough. His expectations were harsh on you compared to others. He kept a perfect public impression. The angelic smile and features how can anyone not fall for it?
A knock came at the door, "May I please come in?" before you could answer Sunday walked in closing the door behind him with his infamous smile.
He walked over to you and softly slid his hand to the necklace he brought you sitting on your neck. The small angel wing diamond necklace. The wings looked similar to the wings on his head. His hand fidgets the necklace chains.
"Is everything going perfectly fine my dear?"
You nodded, but he frowned slightly bit, "I want to hear it from you. Do your job with your mouth not with movements" his voice became more demanding.
"Yes everything is going perfectly," you said sarcastically. His ears tense up a bit, "Why are you even here?"
He stopped in place letting go of your necklace, his smile fading in a stern expression you know so well.
"You're speaking out of line again..." His voice was cold, but you heard him say these words many, many times before and you know exactly what he meant: How dare you speak to me that way.
"Sunday I didn't mean to-"
He cuts you off "I'll have to lengthen your confinement if you keep speaking out of line."
Silence... The silence between you two when you looked away. After a long 30 seconds, Sunday's moods soften as well as the wings. He kissed you on your head. "This is the best choice for you to learn. All I want is to keep you safe..."
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Anyway, I got CPR certified today! I thought I was gonna fail the test but I didn't! Also for my political/government test, I failed it... whomp whomp😭 I'm so far behind on work sooo yeah and my next political test is coming soon.
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alphajocklover · 4 months
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Older Brothers
**Here is my first story! It's a little long, and pretty kinky, but I hope you all like it. This was written with the help of my beta reader and cowriter J-Bro. Enjoy!** There were a lot of things that Brock Owens didn’t understand. He didn’t understand algebra. Like at all. Who the hell needed that nerdy shit anyways? He didn’t understand why Jenny Thompson, the most attractive girl in school, wouldn’t spare a good looking guy like him a spare look. Sure he wasn’t the biggest guy on the football team, and she had a (really lame and geeky) boyfriend, and he was only a sophomore while she was a senior, but still he was a fucking stud! Why did Peter Cole, the second biggest geek on campus, get to be her boyfriend? But what he really didn’t understand was how he, an up and coming football player well on his way to becoming the big man on campus, was related to the biggest geek on campus, Chad Owens.
Chad, or Chadwick as he insisted on being called for some fucking reason, was Brock’s brother. His older brother, not that anyone could tell. Despite being a senior Chadwick was 6 inches shorter than the 6 foot Brock, weighed a skinny 130 pounds to Brock's 205 pounds of mostly muscle, and was smaller than his brother in literally every way. People assumed that Brock was Chadwick’s older brother, if they ever even realized they were related at all. The fact that this was backwards, that Chadwick was the older brother, absolutely fucking killed Brock. Older brothers were supposed to be the strong ones, the manly ones, the ones who showed their little bros how to be real men! But Brock got stuck with the lamest, nerdiest brother he could. He had never been the mentor or the big bro Brock had wanted or deserved. They had been close when Brock was younger, but it had taken a single year of highschool for Brock to realize his brother was a loser. Now they barely spoke, unless Brock and his bros were making fun of Chadwick or Chadwick was scolding Brock for his bad grades. Right now it was the latter. “A 1.3 GPA! That's a D+ average Brock! A D+ average! If the school had any standards they would have kicked you off the football team by now! Your grades are awful!” The brothers were currently in Brock's room in the Alpha Alpha Sigma frat house, the coolest frat on campus, where Chadwick was once again telling an enraged Brock off for his grades. 
“Oh fuck you Chad! Like a geek like you would know anything about football!” 
“It’s Chadwick, not Chad, and I’m trying to help you, that’s what older brothers do!” 
“Oh, please! Like you know anything about how to be a good older brother!” Chadwick looked at Brock like he had just been slapped.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He asked, the pain and shock evident in his voice.
“It means that older brothers are supposed to show their little bros how to be cool! How to be a man! They’re not supposed to make their little brothers fucking ashamed by being geeks!” “It isn’t easy being the big brother Brock, especially not to a dumb bully like you! Maybe I haven’t been the best big brother, but I-I’d like to see you do any better!” Chadwick stormed out, slamming the door behind him, leaving behind an exasperated and enraged Brock. ‘I’d like to see you do any better.’ Of course he could fucking do better! If he was an older brother he’d show his younger brother how to be cool! He’d teach him how to workout, how to play football, how to get chicks! All Chadwick had ever done was embarrass him in front of his bros. Brock looked out the window of his room and saw a bright star in the sky. He sighed. It felt weird to do so, and he’d never admit to doing anything because he knew his frat bros would never let him live it down… but he felt himself wishing on the star. He stared at it and sighed “... I wish I was the older brother…” He muttered. As he spoke the star got brighter and brighter…
And in a flash, everything was different.
Brock woke up with a start. When had he gone to bed? He must have gotten really drunk last night, because all he remembered was that fight with his brother. Slowly Brock got up, and looked around in confusion. This… wasn’t his room. It was bigger, nicer, and… while, cooler. It looked like one of the rooms for the older members of the frat. Fuck did he sneak into a seniors room? They were going to kill him for this! But… wasn’t that his weight set? Brock was so confused he almost didn’t notice himself in the mirror. Brock had always been big, but now… well, he didn’t have the words to describe it. Slowly, he picked himself off the bed and stood proudly before it, naked as the day he was born. He ran his hands up his abs first - the skin was dryer, rougher, more stressed and strained and worked, and whereas he was proud before of it just having a little bit of spring, now it was totally solid. As he clenched them, he could feel the soft shockwaves rippling throughout his body. 
His eyes were soon drawn to his chest, where he’d, seemingly overnight, gained a new tattoo. “Destroyer” on his right tit, “of Bussy” on his left. He scoffed. That definitely never would have happened… whilst he’d had his eyes on some of the guys around for a while, he was still pretty damn far in the closet… Though the way the words stretched as he puffed out his pecs was… almost hypnotic. “What the fuck happened to me last night…?” This… this made no sense to be a prank. Suddenly there was another knock at the door, and a deep, commanding, and somewhat familiar voice yelled through the door
 “Brock, bro, open up.” 
In a daze bro opened the door, only to see his brother, or some version of his brother, smirking at him. Chadwick Owens had completely changed overnight, his body exploding with muscles. He didn’t look as big as Brock did now, but he was beefier than any college sophomore had any right to be. Wait… sophomore? He was a senior… wasn’t he? Chadwick strut in cockily, smirking as he took his brother into a manly bro-hug 
“Morning bro! Fuck you look as sexy as always!” He said. Brock finally found his voice, looking at his brother in shock.
“Chadwick… what happened to you?” He asked
“Chadwick? Bro, don’t call me Chadwick. Makes me sounds like a fucking dweeb, makes you sound like you’re my fucking mom or some shit. My name is Chad bro.” He said with a dumb chuckle. He put on a broad, show winning smile as his tongue flopped out of his mouth a bit. Fuck, he looked.. kinda cute like that. Did he just call his younger brother cute? Wait, Chad was his older brother, right? Fuck his head hurt. 
“Bro, what’s happening? My head… my chest…”
“That tattoo is still giving you trouble brah? Imagine how I feel.” Chad said, before turning around. He pulled down his pants, showing off the top of his thick bubble butt and a brand new tramp stamp, one that said ‘Big Bros Bussy.’ Brock felt himself immediately grow hard, his cock standing at attention. Was it bigger? It felt bigger, thicker, longer, as it throbbed in his pants. “Big Bros Bussy…” Brock whispered. Suddenly he remembered… everything. He wasn’t Chad's little brother. He was the older brother! He was Brock Owens, the big man on campus, the leader of the Alpha Alpha Sigma frat, the captain of the varsity football and wrestling teams. And Chad was his perfect, sexy little bro. Ever since they were little Brock had been showing Chad the ropes. How to be a man, how to play football, and most importantly how to take his brother's 12 inch cock up his ass.
In fact, he even remembered him and his bro’s first time. He was still a little bit lanky back then, and whilst he wanted to join in with his big bro’s workouts, he couldn’t hack it. But it was like his big bro’s alpha cock was a key that unlocked his inner alpha. It was so hot, watching it happen whilst letting his hips rail his sexy kid brother.
Suddenly everything clicked. His wish had come true. He was the older brother. He could remember being the hottest, most muscular guy at his college. He could remember fucking Jenny Thompson and her twink boyfriend Peter Cole on the regular, unafraid of what anyone thought. He remembered teaching his wide eyed brother how to be just like him. And he remembered everytime he and his brother had fucked. He remembered being in an open relationship with his jock slut of a brother. Brock smirked as these memories flooded his mind. He knew it was wrong to be with his brother in that way, but he couldn’t fucking help it. Chad was the only other guy in the world close to as manly and hot as he was, the only one worth his time. Plus his bussy was as tight as it had been the first time. Brock gave Chad a sultry grin and smacked his brother's ass “Looking good baby bro. Now everyones going to know you’re mine~”
High in the sky, invisible in the daylight, a supernova blazed, another wish having been granted.
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kuronekoo98 · 2 years
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Thanks to the post-credit scene, director Ryan Coogler wanted to close his farewell to Chadwick Boseman and the legacy that Black Panther left not only in the Marvel universe. It is a touching scene, which gives hope for the future and casts a sweeter light on the past. The worthy conclusion of a film that wants to be able to sew the void left by the premature death of the American actor, without replacing it.
Thank you Chad, thank you so much for making us witness your immense skill. ♥️♥️♥️
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akajustmerry · 2 years
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A take...what makes Wakanda Forever a compelling story about grief and what sets Wakanda Forever apart from the other projects about grief in phase 4 isn't just the reality that Chadwick is really dead so people bring that to the their viewing, it's that they make the cause of T'challa's death in Wakanda Forever (relatively minor spoiler so stop reading if you don't want to know) also due to illness. Death in the mcu is often so fanciful and heroic and so it's so unrelatable because even if you understand/sympathise with losing the love of your life, losing them to a giant purple alien and then building a sitcom town with a magical clone version of him, etc isn't going to be relatable or accessible or even a realistic experience with grief which is why it falls flat and hollow. So, I think the choice Ryan Coogler made ie. having T'challa die of something so ordinary as an illness no one could heal him from, then Wakanda Forever's main character archs being Shuri gaining the strength to sit with her memories without being consumed by anger and loss - THAT was a more moving and powerful narrative about grief because it's real. It's something most people have personally experienced with a loved one. because in reality most of our loved ones don't die heroic sacrificial deaths, they die from benign unseen forces in the world and it still hurts just as much to lose them. And I think Wakanda Forever taking the chance to tell that story, that people you love will die and they probably will die suddenly from things they never chose that aren't heroic or incredible that no one can save them from - and that it's still devastating and a grief worthy of acknowledgement...I appreciated that so much, and to centre Black women's grief specifically and allow characters who are Black women the space to be angry and messy and make mistakes in that grief was so beautiful. It hits close to home because it's real and I just loved it so much.
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zvaigzdelasas · 4 months
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sebastian pinera
Yeah saw that & wasn't gonna say anything but
Chile’s president-elect, the billionaire businessman Sebastian Piñera, has unveiled a new hardline cabinet, including prominent conservative figures and some politicians once closely aligned with the Pinochet dictatorship. The new interior minister, Andrés Chadwick, was a vocal supporter of Augusto Pinochet during his 1973-1990 regime, which named him president of the Catholic University Students Federation. Chadwick and the new justice minister, Hernán Larraín, were also supporters and defenders of the secretive German enclave Colonia Dignidad, which was established by the fugitive Nazi officer and paedophile Paul Shäfer in the early 60s. It later emerged that the enclave was used by security officials to torture and murder opponents of the regime.
2018
figured might as well get at least one #RIPBOZO in
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unamused-boss · 10 months
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Good energy
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Okay. This is my first ever fic on here, so I do appreciate polite criticism pls! Plus I've read almost everything for every character I am unhealthy obsessed with... sooo here we go!
Billy Hargrove x Fem Reader
(Billy might be a bit OC in this)
Warnings: strong language, under age drinking
Summary: When Billy moved to Hawkins Indiana he expected rednecks, hicks, and cows. Which he did see and was very much disappointed with. But that was until he sees some color pop out of no where one night in Hawkins.
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Billy was spending his time in Hawkins as patiently as he could, which was close to none. The people were bland, the school was bland, and the weed was bland. 'God I want out of here' was a common thought that crossed his mind through out his day. Between having to deal with his shit-bird of a step-sister Max and with the ass kissing wannabes that do nothing but stick to his ass. All Billy wanted to do was go back to California. The sunsets, the beaches, the waves, the girls, all of it he wanted it all back. The only slight enjoyment he got was when he took the title as 'King' from 'King Steve'.
Currently Billy is walking out to his camaro, wait on his bitch of a sister, drive as fast he can home, hopefully avoid everyone in his house, then go out and get drunk in someone else's backyard. But the universe had other ideas... those idea's being Tommy fucking Hagan. He saw him running up to him from a mile away.
"You gotta be shitting me." Billy muttered irritatedly leaning against his car. Billy to a long drag of his cigarette, hoping for some relief.
"Hey Billy!" Tommy slightly shouted, he seemed somewhat winded from his short run. " You got plans tonight?"
"No, what's it to you?" Billy replied, taking another drag from his cigarette.
"Well there is gonna be a party down by the quarry tonight." Tommy said with a grin on his face.
"Okay? So what's that gotta do with me?" He was getting irritated now. Not only was Max running late but Tommy was still here.
"Harrington's got some girl coming with him, probably his rebound from Princess Wheeler..." That perked Billy's interest, making Steve miserable is his favorite thing to do. "So, what do ya say Hargrove?"
Billy stood still for a minute. No expression on his face only throwing his cigarette on the ground and snubbing it out.
"Count me in... Can't wait to steal Harrington's new girl." Billy laughed as he moved to the driver's seat of his car.
'little shit can skate home' He thought as his car roared out of the parking lot.
On the other side of town at the Chadwick (that will be your last name... sorry not sorry) residence...
Steve was pacing a hole into the floor as his childhood best friend went through her clothes.
"Do you seriously want to go with me tonight? I mean you moved away when you were in sixth grade now you're back... and I mean NOTHING has changed!" Steve was stressing way to much about one party, that being your first party back in Hawkins.
"Steve I'll be fine, the energy that you are putting off right now is not good." You smiled to him. "Good energy will come to you if you let it, you love parties what's got you so worked up plus you've changed for the better."
"That right there! This hippie shit is what is wrong!"
"Steve. If you're gonna worry about me like some mom don't come with me then okay." You didn't want to hurt his feelings but you wanted to have fun. "I get they are all judgy and whatever other adjective you used on the car ride over here, but I don't care. I like who I've become, so "this hippie shit" is trying to decide on the flowing warm skirt or the flowing purple pants!"
"I just don't want you to get mixed into the wrong people." Steve retorted.
"And I won't. I get the you broke things off with all of your old friends and who ever this Billy guy is but you don't have to protect me." You reassured.
"Fine." Steve sighed. "And go with the skirt it will look better with the top."
You smiled to him. "Thank you Steve... now get out I gotta change."
Steve made his way to get out of your room for you to get ready. "Yeah Yeah whatever."
. . .
The time was currently 12:39 am. While the party in the quarry has been going on for quit some time now. Many of the familiar faces of the so called popular crowd made their way in, those faces being Tommy, Billy, Tina, Carol, and among a few others. Billy was buzzed. It may not be a back yard but at least he'd get drunk at the end of the night. Music was blasting from some dude's portable speakers. There was a bonfire lighting the night away. Everyone was either dancing or talking, a few were some were throwing up in the bush. Billy was about to down another drink when Tommy came hurdling right into his back.
"What the hell Hagan." Billy shouted not only for him to hear him but also out of anger.
"Harrington's here with his new girl." He laughed. "You gotta see her, Carol come over here!" Tommy ran and in quick follow so did Carol. Billy sauntered his way over, with what little drink he had left, to where the two love birds perched themselves. And that is when Billy Hargrove saw a burst of color. There she was. She didn't dress like anyone else in Hawkins (Think Stevie Nicks Style). 'She couldn't be from this shit hole. Her hair was frizzy and a but unruly. Her skin glowed with the warm light. The clothes held to each curve of her body but flowed so elegantly as she walked. Who is this babe, not chic she's to pretty to be called a chic, and why was she with Harrington.' All these thoughts pondered Billy's mind.
"Holy shit." Carol said. Tommy and Billy can bot clearly see the shock on her face.
"What?" Tommy questioned, "Do you know her?"
"That's Y/N Chadwick! She moved in the sixth grade!" Slapping Tommy's arm. He gave no response only to be in more shock than Carol.
"Ain't no way... she looks great." That comment got a direct and aggressive response from Tommy. To which he responded with a vocal "Ow!?".
With you and Steve, you guys were just strolling by the bonfire. A cup of jungle juice in your hand with Steve was cupless due to being the driver of the night.
"So first party back in Hawkins, how does it feel?" Steve asked.
"Pretty far out, kinda better than any party from the city." You answered joyfully. To be honest you were happy to be back in Hawkins. City life was fun but it was getting to be to much for you.
"STevE!" An uneven voice yelled out across the rocky yard from us. You saw a girl with bangs and a bob cut calling over to Steve. Clearly she has had her fair share of alcohol.
"Hey Robin!" Steve responded. " You don't mind if I go talk to her do you?"
"No, go have fun!" You cheered. " Go flow, relax!"
"Good energy." Steve gritted through his teeth with a smile as he made his way over to this Robin girl. While you stayed right by the fire with your drink.
Billy saw his opportunity, you were alone and he could talk to you with Steve out of the way. Billy made his way over to you by the bonfire. You look to the guy that has just appeared beside you in the moment.
"Hey." He said it very smoothly.
"Hello." You respond with a sweet smile. Billy could just stare at you smiling. 'Come on man... you just met her get it together.' Billy thought.
"I've never seen you around before, I'm Billy." As Billy introduced himself, he took a step forward to close some space between the both of you. You ,however, stayed where you stood just smiling to the guy Steve was telling you about.
"So you're Billy." You grinned to him. 'God why do the jerks have to be so pretty'. "Steve mentioned you a few times but he didn't tell me how handsome you were."
"Well at least you get the in person experience." Billy answered, " So from what I've heard you have returned to Hawkins."
"Yes I have, what's it to you?" You questioned with a grin.
"Well sweetheart I wanna get to know you, I get you moved back but I am no longer the new kid on the block."
"Well what do you wanna know?" He is trying to be sly. You wanna see were this plays into. His eyes glance behind you.
"If you're gonna ask me if I'm dating Steve you would be wrong." You stated. "He was my best friend as a kid that I kept in contact with, plus he has a lot of stressed energy."
"So you're a hippie girl?" Billy said it as if he was fascinated by you. " Could you tell me what my energy is?"
"You're very hostile." You answered. "You are very tense, you have not relaxed since you have started talking with me. If this is some front you're putting on... I don't dig it." Billy was stunned.
"I'm not putting up any front." He retorted.
"Billy you seem like you have a lot of inner conflict with yourself, and don't try to say other wise." You said. "I already know about the stuff you've done around here and to Steve."
"What?" Billy is confused. "I thought you were into me but now you're giving me this psychoanalysis shit." Billy was clearly getting frustrated with you. So much so it was able to catch Steve's attention.
"Listen, I get some of the stuff I say is weird but I'm not wrong and you know it..." You said. "And I am into you but not if this front you're putting is what I'm getting."
Billy could not believe it. He was getting rejected, rejected by a beautiful girl. ' What the hell'...
"Billy." She cuts him out of his thoughts. "I would love you get to know you if you let me." She stepped closer this time, gently placing her fingers into his. She looked to him, he wants to answer but words aren't coming out of his mouth. 'Say something stupid... anything.'
"How about next Saturday, at 6... good for you?" He said this more gently this time. His frustration and building agitation was gone now.
"I would like that Billy." You answered with a smile, a smile that caused Billy to return. It was like a moment was set in place for you both. Billy could no longer hear the laughing or music, all he was looking at was you. There was something different about you, in a good way. Billy wants to know what that is. Your somewhat romantic moment was busted when a certain head of hair popped up next to you.
"Do we have a problem, Hargrove?" Steve asked. Not only did he get too distracted that Billy walked up to you but he seemed to have been in a sort of deep conversation with you. If you can call it that.
"No. No Harrington we're all good here, right sweetheart." Billy answered, he grinned.
"Yeah, we're fine Steve... I'll see you later Billy." You walked away with Steve. Well more like Steve dragging you to his car to leave after the interaction. You gave a small wave to Billy as you were dragged away.
"What was that all about?" Tommy asked drunk and confused.
"I think I got a date." Billy answered still looking off to were you left. In that moment Billy Hargrove had a thought he never thought he would have... 'I hope this works out.'
When you and Steve reached his car, he instantly went to mom mode.
"What was that about!" Steve shouted, frazzled at the look and thought of the two of you interacting.
"I think I have a date." You giggled. Steve paused...
"WhAT!"
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Okay so I'm gonna end it right there. Please tell me what you think, I would love to hear feed back. As well as what to do to improve myself.
Thank you so much for reading!
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thatsmzbitchtoyou · 5 months
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A Patient Man
Y/N: your name
Y/L/N: your last name
Y/E/C: your eye color
Y/M/C: your Marvel character
Y/H/C: your hair color
CHAPTER 1
Sebastian was totally screwed. He had promised himself never to fall for another costar again, and yet here he was, pining after this new, rising star of an actress, Y/N L/N, who had literally been plucked from obscurity and became an overnight acting and singing sensation. He was skeptical when he first heard from the director that there was a new character being introduced into the Marvel cinematic universe, and specifically into his character, Bucky Barnes’, storyline. Not only was he skeptical of the latecomer, but also because the director told him the actress was new to the business and had never acted in anything besides high school and college plays and musicals. But the director was excited about her, and told Sebastian she was extremely talented for having so little experience, especially with her singing. Sebastian never expected to be completely floored by her.
The moment he met her he was astounded by her kindness, humor, compassion, open-mindedness, but mostly by her fierce love for people and how much she liked physical contact with others. She always seemed to be cuddling with a co-star on set, holding hands with Elizabeth Olsen or pinching Scarlett Johanssen’s butt in passing. Sebastian lived for the moments when she would waltz over and give him a long hug, or cuddle up to him when she was tired, or randomly hold his face in her hands and just stare at him for a minute, smiling, like she was trying to memorize every little part of him. He couldn’t help but smile like an idiot whenever he saw her, his heart doing a flip when she was near, and feeling extreme jealousy when she was close with anyone else. But that’s just how she always was. It was her love language, and quickly turning into his as well.
Her infectious giggle rang through the air and his head whipped to the direction it came from. The Marvel cast was in a large venue, meeting the thunderous applause of the excited fans waiting in line, and yet he could pick her voice out of the crowd. Y/N was hugging Chris Evans and laughing as he picked her up and swung her around in a circle. Sebastian felt the nasty little green monster called Jealousy bare its teeth in his heart and he slightly hung his head in shame, still watching them out of the corner of his eye. He knew Chris was harmless, only saw Y/N as a friend, yet couldn’t help but stare daggers at him.
“Chill, dude,” Anthony Mackie muttered to him as the line of fans kept moving.
“What?” Sebastian quickly turned to look at him.
“Oh come on, man, you’re being totally obvious,” Anthony smirked.
“Ugh, I know,” Sebastian sighed, reverting his attention to the kids in front of him dressed as Captain America and Black Panther. “Great costumes guys, you look better than Chris and Chadwick combined!” he praised. The fans smiled and quickly took a selfie with him and Mackie before moving on with the rest of the fans filing into the lecture hall area.
“Nobody looks better than me in that suit, Stan, and you know it!” Chris walked up behind them, Y/N following close behind.
Sebastian laughed at Chris, giving him a quick hug, then turned to his favorite face and smiled adoringly at her. “Hi Y/N.”
“Hi, Seb,” she smiled back, taking his hands in hers. “How are you?” She looked right in his eyes, making him feel like he was melting into a puddle from her Y/E/C-eyed stare.
He rubbed her soft hands in his, clutching tighter so she couldn’t leave just yet. “I’m good,” he could feel himself blushing, “how are you?”
“I’m amazing,” she giggled, “I saw a whole group of little girls dressed up as Y/M/C, it was so cool! All of them dressed as me, I never thought I’d see something like that.” She was slightly jumping in front of him from excitement, and he laughed at her antics.
“It is pretty cool when they dress up as you,” he agreed. “Makes you feel pretty special, huh?”
“Oh yeah!” she laughed, her blinding smile lighting up her features. “Though to be honest I’m pretty tired,” she spoke quietly, moving closer so he could hear her. Sebastian took another look at her and could see that her eyes looked to be a bit duller than usual. This long press tour was reaching its sixth week and they had constantly been traveling to different states, countries and continents, talking to thousands of people, taking millions of pictures, and she had never done it before. She was putting on a brave face, but he could tell she missed her kids.
Y/N was a single mother. Sebastian had been surprised by that fact at first, but after he met her kids while on set, her motherly nature made him fall for her more than before. She had been married before, had two children with her husband, but then he had suddenly died from a brain aneurysm about 2 years before she had been discovered by the director of the movie. Being a single mom had never been the plan for her, but in his opinion, coming from a single mother himself, she was succeeding immensely on her own. He also fell in love with her kids. They were extremely well-mannered and relaxed in nature, just like her, but had the cutest personalities that made him love spending time with them. Her daughter, Lulu, was always singing, (also just like her mother), and dancing around, constantly chatting to anyone who would entertain her. Her son, Ollie, was the quiet observer who didn’t feel the need to talk much, but had the sweetest laugh. He would usually babysit them on set if she needed to do a scene that he wasn’t in with her. They called him Sebby, and he called them his munchkins.
Y/N hadn’t seen them in almost a full month. She didn’t want them on the road so much and had left them with her parents for a while. But they were still so young that she felt she was missing out on them growing, even if only for a month. Sebastian missed them, too, but couldn’t imagine what it felt like for her. He gave her a warm smile and squeezed her hands, then pulled her into a hug. He could feel her melt into him and his head felt fuzzy. “I miss them, too,” he whispered to her. She looked up at him with an unreadable expression, and he waited for her reaction. Y/N finally gave him a small smile, her eyes starting to well up a little which she quickly brushed away with a laugh. He smiled back at her and hugged her once more before reluctantly letting go of her. She kept her arm looped with his as they followed the other stars to the stage of their latest Marvel panel, fans screaming as they came into the light.
***
“Y/N! How has it felt being the newbie among all these big actors in these movies?” the fan asked at the microphone.
Y/N smiled at her and leaned forward to her mic. “It’s been amazing, a little intimidating at times, but overall a lot of fun. I feel like I’ve learned so much from all of them and made some really meaningful, lasting friendships. They’re like my family.”
Sebastian smiled at her as she finished speaking. The audience cheered after her answer and the next fan came up to the mic to ask a question.
“Hi, I’m a big fan of the MCU. My question is also for Y/N, actually.” Y/N leaned forward again and smiled at him, awaiting his question. “My question is, Y/N, what do you think your late husband would think of you kissing and having a love scene with one of your costars?”
Sebastian immediately saw red. He leaned forward quickly, slapping his hand on the panel table. “What did you just say?” he said loudly. The other co-stars started chastising the fan as well, telling him what he said was inappropriate, how dare he ask her such a question, that he was being incredibly rude. The fan started blubbering as they shouted at him, trying to apologize, but the damage was done. The fans in the audience gasped and booed him loudly as he desperately looked around for an ally. Sebastian stopped yelling and looked at Y/N. She sat quietly in her seat, staring at the fan with furrowed brows, her hands folded together. She seemed to be waiting patiently for everyone to stop talking. He reached over and put his hand over hers. She slowly looked at him, eyebrows still furrowed, looked at his hand on hers, then back to his eyes.
“Are you okay?” he asked quietly. She blinked, then slowly gave him a small smile, moving her hand out from his so she could comfortably hold it. He gave her a lopsided smile back and rubbed her knuckles with his thumb. She looked back at his hand again, then looked towards the fan that was trying to walk away.
“I want to answer the question,” she announced into the mic. Everyone on the panel whipped their heads to look at her, the audience noise quickly died down, the rude fan looked like he was about to shit himself.
“You know what my dead husband would say to me kissing Sebastian Stan in this movie?” she replied, a menacing undertone to her otherwise soft spoken voice. The rude fan stared wide-eyed at her. “He’d say, ‘Get it, girl.’ That’s what my dead husband would say.”
The whole room erupted in applause. Sebastian stared at her, eyes wide and a huge smile on his face. Anthony stood up hollering, “That’s right! She told you! Yaaas Queen!” Chris threw his head back laughing, right hand over his left boob as he always does, everyone else clapping, nodding their heads to what she said. The rude fan quickly left after people started pushing him out of the venue hall.
Sebastian was still holding Y/N’s hand, and he could feel her squeezing his hand, as she watched the fan leave. Her face was still stern, making sure the fan left, and once he was through the doors she relaxed her grip. Sebastian gave her hand a small squeeze to grab her attention. She looked back over at him, her eyes softening as she looked at him and a small side smile lighting up her face again. He smiled at her then pulled her in for a hug. She hugged him back tightly. He could tell she was trying to ground herself after the whole ordeal. Her anxiety tended to flare up in crowd settings like this, and for someone to try to call her out on something like that in front of everybody probably had her struggling to breath for a minute. The audience cheered louder as they hugged each other.
“You’re amazing,” he whispered in her ear. Y/N slightly shivered in his hold and a little flare of hope sparked in his heart that maybe he had just as much effect on her as she had on him. He felt her smile against his cheek and she whispered back, “Thank you.”
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Text
Blue Crush
Billy Hargrove x AFAB! Reader
Reader: Nearly dies surfing. Billy: LOL do a flip.
The choke hold Blue Crush still has on me, if you haven't watched it, please do, but also know the only relevance it has to this story is surfing. In honour of Blue Crush, reader does have the surname Chadwick, I hope that doesn't throw anyone. Apologies to any actual surfers out there, I can barely swim 20 metres, and I didn't really fancy reaching out to my ex (who was a surfer) for notes. The vast majority of terms are courtesy of Surf's Up. 🌊
Warnings: Explicit language, explicit descriptions of sex, vaginal fingering, p in v sex, the smallest slightest smidgen of anal play, soft! Billy, rough! Billy.
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Huntington Beach, California - August 1984.
It’s a beautiful day, the sky a perfect light cobalt blue, completely cloudless, only a gentle breeze and blissfully warm sunshine.
Your bare toes sink into the soft golden sand as you make your way across the beach, surfboard held firmly to your side, enjoying the heat of the sun on your skin. 
“Hey Chadwick, quit posing, we've got some waves to ride girlie!” Your friend Danny hails you from further up the beach, you flip him the bed with a laugh, hoisting your board up and running the rest of the way.
“How’s it looking out there?” You say, pulling your top over your head, a new bikini on display.
“Fucking clean, Hargrove has already carved up a couple of sets.” Danny says, pointing to the back of your friend Billy, who is bobbing up and down on his board a few meters out. You push down your shorts, tying your hair up into a hair ponytail, practically vibrating with excitement; the waves calling you.
“Race ya!” You shout to Danny, laughing as you sprint to the shore, wasting no time in paddling out, duck diving under the breaking waves, relishing being out in the water.
“Look who finally decided to show up.” Billy calls to you, broad smirk on his face, sat astride his board looking perfect as usual.
“What’s the matter, you miss me or something?” You ask playfully.
“Always babe.” He says, you splash water at him to hide your blush.
 Danny was right, the waves are clean, set after perfect set. The three of you, taking it, mostly, in turns, Billy sometimes pulling you onto his board to purposely bomb into a wave. 
“Big set! Fucking huge set! Look at that!” Danny shouts pointing at the rolling waves heading your way.
“I’m taking it.” You say with determination, already paddling.
“You sure Chadwick, that’s gonna be one hell of a peak.” Billy warns, looking at the incoming wall of water. 
You don’t answer, catching the lip, and dropping in with an exhilarated yell. It’s just as the barrel starts to curl you realize it’s a massive close out, both sides of the tube collapsing in. “Shit.” You breath out, before sucking in a massive breath, the heavy weight of the wave breaking directly over your head, smashing down on you. You feel yourself being pulled by the undertow, your leash dragging you with your board, 30 seconds that’s all, just hold your breath for 30 seconds you tell yourself. The surface comes into view, your head emerging with a gasp, you hear a vague shout turning to see another huge wave breaking, you duck dive again grabbing the rails. The water pummels you as though you’re in a washer, you feel your ankle get tugged harshly, knowing your board has just snapped in two. The panic starts to set in, lungs burning, ears popping, something grips you around the middle and you rocket to the surface once more.
“Atta girl! I got you.” Billy pants, hoisting you onto his board, you cough furiously sucking down air. “Let’s get you in.” He says roughly, paddling with you towards the shore.
You drop heavily onto your back in the sand, still breathing hard, heart hammering, slightly dizzy, ankle bleeding from where your leash strap cut in. 
“You alright?” Billy asks worriedly, dropping beside you, visually checking for other injuries.
“I’m good.” You croak, throat sore from the saltwater.
“I told you not to go for it Chadwick!” He says hotly.
“I didn’t know it was gonna collapse like that” You say defensively, sitting up, feeling your back spasm. 
“You should’ve ditched!” He shouts. “You could've been killed!” His eyes are burning with anger and something else, fear?
“I’m fine.” You spit, standing up so quickly your head spins, of course Billy catches you before you can faceplant the sand, his warm arms tight around your back.
“Easy, easy.” He says, you press your hands to his still damp chest steadying yourself, you can feel his heart pounding almost as fast as yours. “You gotta be careful babe, I can’t - I’m not gonna be there every time.” He murmurs softly, pushing a strand of loose hair behind your ear.
You all but melt into his touch, moving to wrap your arms around him, your face buried in his neck.
“Thanks for getting me out, Hargrove.” You mumble against his skin.
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The sun is just starting to sink below the horizon, the beach mostly quiet aside from a few stragglers, waves lapping gently against the shore, almost lulling you to sleep. You’re sitting between Billy’s legs, back to his chest, his sweatshirt covering your upper body. He had only let you surf baby waves for the rest of the afternoon, and you were glad of it, muscles aching from your wipe-out.
“Alright you two, I’m gonna jet.” Danny says hauling his board out of the sand, casting a knowing smile at you both.
“Have a good night man.”
“See ya Danny.”
“You wanna make a move?” Billy asks you quietly, moving your salt waved hair off your shoulder, placing a small kiss on your lightly tanned skin. You smile at the affectionate gesture, most people mistook you for boyfriend and girlfriend, but you’ve always been this way with each other; neither of you getting much love at home. You often wonder why Billy has never asked you to be his girlfriend, or why you have never asked him to be your boyfriend (it is 1984 after all, not 1884). You guess part of you is worried about ruining your friendship, but the other part is just plain scared to explore your feelings for him.
“Yeah I guess we should go.” You say a little reluctantly, the evening was so perfect, the weather, the view, the person. You get up, brushing the sand from your legs with a big stretch, noticing the way Billy eyes your exposed navel as the jumper rides up.
“...Or we could get some burgers, chill out in the car for a bit?” He suggests, which you answer with a vigorous nod, grinning from ear to ear.
  You’re both perched atop the bonnet of Billy’s Camaro, laughing as he recounts the story of when Danny knocked three teeth out trying to impress a girl. 
“It was the way he was trying to pick them back up from the sand without her noticing!” Billy laughs around a mouthful of fries.
“He was whistling like that fucking Gopher from Winnie The Pooh for a month.” You giggle, tears streaming down your face, sides hurting. Your laughter dies down slowly, Billy still intermittently chuckling, you look at him, the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles.
“I’m gonna miss this.” You say softly, sadness creeping into your voice.
“Babe, we agreed we weren’t going to talk about it.” Billy huffs, dropping his new handful of fries back into the container in exasperation. 
“No, you said you didn’t want to talk about it, I never agreed.” You mutter pedantically. “We have to talk about it, you’re moving to the other side of the country Billy!”
“Yeah I know I am, so stop fucking reminding me about it!” He snaps. 
You glare at him hoisting yourself off the bonnet, and throwing yourself in the back seat of the car, slamming the door for good measure.
“Did you seriously just throw a hissy fit by getting into my car?” He calls and you can hear the teasing tone of his voice.
“Piss off.” You grumble petulantly, kicking the front passenger seat for good measure with your bare foot, knowing the print would irritate him. The car rocks a little as he also gets off the bonnet, climbing in next to you with a heavy sigh.
"Hey."
"Hey."
“I’m sorry for shouting, Chadwick.” 
“I’m sorry for making you shout, Hargrove.” You mumble back with a small smile, he grabs you, bringing you in close and pretending to give you a noogie. You give his arm an immature lick in response, which sets you both into a mock wrestle, Billy successfully pining you in the cramped back seat, both breathing heavily. 
Without giving it much thought, you reach up and bring his lips to yours, you feel his neck tighten for the smallest second before he is on you kissing you with an intensity that has you gasping into his mouth.
Your nose is filled with the heady scent of salt, sunscreen and Aramis, it’s pure Billy and it makes your head spin, his hands grip your hips whilst you tangle yours in his curly hair.
“Fucking hell babe, where has this come from?” He asks in a low gravelly voice that has your thighs clenching. 
“Figured might as well shoot my shot, seeing as you won’t be around much longer.” You say breathlessly. Rather than respond, Billy kisses you hard again, teeth nipping at your bottom lip, tugging on the hem of his sweatshirt which still covers your body. 
“Off, now.” He commands roughly, sitting back to give you space, you haul the clothing over your head, slipping your bikini top off with it, nipples pebbling instantly. You see Billy’s eyes darken, strong hands gripping you tight pulling you over to straddle his lap, grinding you down onto his hard length, your skimpy bikini bottoms and his boardshorts are the only things separating you.
“Do you really want this?” Billy asks you, his chest heaving, hands running up and down your back. You nod, leaning in for another kiss but he pulls back. “Say it, say you want it.”
“I want this. Want you.” You whisper, tongue licking up his neck, tasting the salt, skin still warm from the sun.
He growls, pulling the tie-string on your bikini bottoms, balling up the fabric and tossing it into the front of the car, his fingers running roughly through your slick folds.
“Fuck, you’re so soft and wet.” He groans, latching his mouth on your breast, sucking hard on the nipple drawing a yelp from you.
“Billy.” You moan, feeling two of his fingers sink into your tight heat.
“Ride my fingers surfer girl.” He grins boyishly, landing a slap to your ass. “C’mon, give me a show.” You use his shoulders for leverage, fucking down onto his fingers, pussy working around the scissoring digits. “That’s it, babe. You’re so fucking tight, how am I gonna stuff my cock in there huh?” 
You’re a whimpering mess already, head rolled back, undulating on his hand, feeling your stomach tighten. 
“Ah! Billy I’m gonna - what the fuck Hargrove?” You hiss furiously, Billy having withdrawn his fingers at the last second.
“If you’re gonna cum, it’s going to be on my cock, understand?” He says hotly, yanking his shorts down, he spits into his hand fucking his fist, plundering your mouth with his tongue again. 
“Billy, please.” You plead softly, cunt feeling empty and deprived of release. 
He angles the thick head at your opening, the spit barely easing the sting as your pussy struggles with his size.
“Oh holy shit!” You whine, nails and teeth biting into his skin.
“Come on babe, you talk a big game, I know you can take it.” He huffs through gritted teeth, hands on your hips making you sink lower, taking inch after inch. You reach down and circle your clit with shaking fingers, feeling impossibly full. “That’s it, good girl, all the way down.” Billy coaxes, balls finally flush to your ass.
You’re both still for a moment, your legs quivering, pussy clamping tight around the welcome intrusion, Billy breathing hotly against your skin. You groan in unison when you start to move, sinful wet slaps filling the car, windows fogging with the force of your efforts. Billy holds you tight around your middle, hips piston his cock harder and deeper with each thrust, you’re wetter than you’ve ever been before, you can feel it gathering on his pubic hair, sliding down your ass. 
“So good, fuck!” You yelp, tits bouncing, body shaking, fingers playing with your swollen clit.
Billy grabs a handful of your ass, working you thoroughly over his dick, a single fingertip circling your tightest hole barely pressing in but it’s enough to send you hurtling over the edge.
“Fuck your cunt is so tight!” Billy growls, head thrown back against the headrest, cock pulsing deep within you, riding his orgasm out with deep spearing thrusts.
You’re both breathing heavily, tongues sliding together messily, little whimpers still escaping you, Billy’s fingers working knots out of your shoulders.
“When is it you’re moving away again Hargrove?” You ask quietly.
“October,” He asks shortly “why?”
“Good, so we can do this more than once.” You say with a teasing smile.
“I like the way you think Chadwick.” He grins.
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Tagged: @bettyfrommars @rebelfell
202 notes · View notes
wehangout · 2 months
Note
7 for the prompts ask!
Send me a number prompt and I’ll make it smutty
7. holding their hand under a table
"And then we had to go back again because we got the Chadwick cherry tomatoes instead of the Sweet Million tomatoes!"
Ian laughs, and it sounds genuine, but all you can do is frown at Jill and Alan and wonder why the fuck Ian agreed to this bullshit dinner. Jill and Alan. Ugh. Fuckers have been judging you since you threw the chairs into the pool, which, sure, not you're best move, but mostly fuck them.
And fuck Ian for agreeing to this ... whatever the fuck this is. Double date? Casual get-together? No fucking clue. Definitely not a casual get-together, though. Ian made you wear your good jeans and fuck him for that, too.
You shift in your chair and try not to make it obvious. Ian likes this shit and you love Ian. It's that simple. If he wants to go to a nice restaurant with your shitty neighbours, then you go to a nice restaurant with your shitty neighbours.
But when Jill and Alan - seriously, fuck those guys - start talking about Jill's crazy cousin who spent a month in a nut house because she's a fucking psycho ...
Well, fuck those guys.
You literally feel every moment of your body tensing up. You get tight and your hands curl into fists. You want to hit Alan and yell at Jill, but Ian. Ian won't want you to make a scene. Ian doesn't want everyone to know his shit. Ian can fight his own fucking battles.
Slowly, trying to keep your rage from showing, you pull your hands beneath the table and let them curl into fists.
And Ian - fucking Ian - knows exactly what you're thinking and how you're feeling, and his hand follows, reaches beneath the table, grasps one of yours in his own.
Squeezes.
It's not a calm-the-fuck-down squeeze, or a don't-fuckin'-think-about-it squeeze, or even a let-it-fucking-go squeeze. It's an I-got-you-we're-fine-I-love-you squeeze.
It's reassurance and it's grounding.
You grip his hand right back, thankful that the subject quickly changes to some artsy fucking movie Jill and Alan want to see. Ian asks questions about it, his thumb stroking your knuckles the entire time, and it's good. It helps. Ian helps.
You give his fingers one last touch and go back to your food. Everyone else is almost done because you've been too pissed off to eat the shitty portions of shitty food, but you need to catch up. You need to pretend everything's okay.
Kinda hard when Ian's hand stays beneath the table, when it flattens against your thigh, when his long fingers stroke along the inner seam of your jeans.
You look at him, eyebrows raised, and the smile he gives you in return is totally calm, shows nothing but love, and considering the way he moves his big hand to cover your crotch as he does it, it's a fucking contrast.
You turn back to your food, hands gripping your utensils a little too tight, and, for once in this stupid double date bullshit, try to pay attention to the conversation. You listen to the words and take in the subject matter, nodding along at appropriate times, because if you don't you'll focus solely on the way Ian's hand slowly massages at your hardening dick and that would just be - be ...
"Shit," you mutter.
Everyone stops talking and looks at you - Jill with mild disgust, Alan in confusion, and Ian in concern - even as his hand keeps moving behind the tablecloth.
"Everything okay, Mick?"
You swallow and nod. "Yeah, just thought I forgot to do something."
Conversation continues and Ian doesn't stop. He doesn't stop and he doesn't stop, and he continues to just not stop until you grab his wrist and force him to because you're close to coming in your pants like when you were teenagers and would rub up against each other because that's all you had time for. Only then does Ian stop. He lets you breathe. He waits until you've had a sip of your beer and then moves in again.
You glare at him. He ignores you. He moves his hand up and down your hard cock, using his nail to trace the tip through the denim of your jeans, and it's good, it's so fucking good that whatever the fuck yoga bullshit Jill's talking about doesn't matter. It just doesn't matter. Because Ian's rubbing you through your jeans and it just doesn't matter.
But then you stop him again. You have to. Fuck. You're literally panting at the table - quietly, but panting nonetheless. And they just keep talking. Even Ian, his voice calm and smooth, and that - the contrast of everything he's doing above the table and the filthy shit he's doing to you below the table is too much and not enough.
He moves back again and you look at him, face slack, eyes wide, because he can't be, he can't -
Fuck.
You still have to get through dessert.
He meets your gaze, and even though his smile is still soft and warm, his eyes ...
You know that look. Jill and Alan won't have a fucking clue, but you recognise the heat and want and command in them.
He is. He's going to keep going. He's going to take you to the brink again and again, right at the table, knowing the risks, knowing you could possibly make a fucking fool of yourself at the shitty dinner table at the shitty restaurant in front of your shitty neighbours, but also knowing that it won't happen because he won't let it. He won't let you come until he's good and ready and you - shit - you won't come until he lets you.
You pick up your beer with shaking hands and down it in one.
It's gonna be a hell of a fucking night.
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persphonesorchid · 1 year
Text
Lovin' On You - MYG || Teaser ||
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Summary: After what happened at the fair, Yoongi is plagued with a re-occurring nightmare of a life that was once his. For a reason that escapes him, he's held on to the Lover's card.
Genre: Enemies to lovers, fluff, angst.
Teaser Warnings: talking about nightmares, Yoongi and Mc still don't know what to do with themselves. They're honestly so annoying oml.
Masterlist - Here
If you like my content, please consider supporting me - Here
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Notes: In extreme Chadwick voice: AS YOU CAN SEE, I AM NOT DEAD. Hello all!! I know you guys have been waiting on this for a long time...writing has been hard lmao. It's still not complete yet, but I've written enough to put together a teaser for you guys! thank you guys for being patient! If you wanna be tagged, let me know!
Read Hatin' On You - Here
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Yoongi startles awake, sitting up in his too warm sheets, gasping for air. His heart pounds in his chest like he’s been running, his throat feels raw like he’s been screaming at the top of his lungs. He kicks the tangled covers off and stumbles out of bed. With a hand pressed over his mouth he runs to the bathroom across the hall.  
He spills the dinner he had into the toilet, sitting on the cold tiled floor. When he’s done, he sits there and sobs, and he wishes he knew why he was crying. Why the sadness he felt sealed him in this little corner, closing around his throat in a way that makes him gasp for air.  
It isn’t his.  
This sadness does not belong to him, and Yoongi wishes he could leave it alone. But every night - or ungodly hour of the morning - for the past week, he’s here. Reeling from the too vivid fragments of a dream, a memory that doesn’t belong to him either.  
It was his, maybe, a couple lifetimes ago. Where a man and a woman met a tragic end.  
He squeezes his eyes shut, wiping his face with the collar of his tee-shirt. He’s tired of this and in general, he’s not gotten much sleep since that night at the fair. Yoongi sighs, long and drawn out, standing on shaky legs to flush the toilet and wobble over to the sink to brush his teeth. He stares at himself in the mirror, toothbrush hanging from his mouth, the mess of his hair and his tired, red eyes.  
He wonders how you’re doing. If you’re asleep right now, all warm and cozy in your sheets. Or if you’re in the same predicament as he is. The thought of you going through the same thing doesn’t bring him comfort, instead, worry draws his brows together.  
He remembers well the panic you were in, standing in the middle of a storm looking through him. Your fingers were cold when they wrapped around his wrist then, calling his name so softly he’d barely heard you.  
He’s been suffering, constantly reliving a moment that wasn’t his. He’d hate if you had to do the same. He’d had to make sure you stayed grounded there with him, in the middle of whatever insane shared subconscious acid trip you’d both went on. He couldn’t let you fall into whatever you were feeling.  
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“Are you okay?” He ignores the urge to reach for your hand and curls his free one against his thigh.  
You finally look at him, raising a brow, “Are you? You look like shit.” 
Yoongi’s quite aware of how he looks, he’s not been getting enough rest and it shows. He chuckles though, a brief shake of his shoulders and he shakes his head, looking down at the fried rice in his bowl, “Wow. Thanks, you really know how to compliment a guy.”  
“You’re welcome.” You smile, and Yoongi’s lost in it, almost blinded. You let your spoon rest in the bowl, a small furrow between your brows and concern in your eyes. Yoongi’s a bit surprised at that, though, he thinks he should try to get used to it... if you’re gonna be friends and all. “Seriously though, are you?”  
Yoongi lets out a breath, tongue poking into his cheek, “Could be better, honestly.” He raises a shoulder in a shrug, “Sleep’s hard to come by.”  
You hum softly, sighing, “You too, huh?”  
“The dreams...?” You suddenly look as tired as Yoongi feels, nodding your head quietly. 
Your eyes shift to somewhere above his head, and something cracks in Yoongi’s chest at the sadness in them. It’s the same as that night, out in the storm, and he doesn’t hesitate to take your hand this time. He reaches across the table, fingers brushing yours first before he draws them closer and into his hand. “Hey, talk to me.”  
You let out a soft laugh that sounds sardonic to Yoongi’s ears, but he doesn’t pull his hand away and instead tightens his grip and calls your name softly. You take a breath, something he sees more than he hears, your eyes meet his and there’s a shine to them that makes Yoongi uncomfortable. It burrows into his chest and stays there, gnawing at the strings. He doesn’t want to see you cry so he looks away first and sighs softly. 
“I’ve been getting them, too.” He says, still not looking at you, he focuses on the warmth of your hand in his, “Just one, every time.”  
The sadness from this morning returns, and Yoongi feels as though he’s standing in that doorway, staring at the woman on the floor with a grief that isn’t his. He squeezes his eyes shut tightly, as though it would stop the image from flashing behind them. It doesn’t, and he sees it anyway, like if his eyes are open. He drums the fingers of his free hand against the tabletop in a rhythm and focuses on that for a moment.  
“It’s always...” he sighs, “just her...on the floor...” He doesn’t want to say more and he’s glad when you don’t ask him to. He tries not to look at you, because looking at you makes him remember. You’re not her, he reminds himself, though, there’s some similarity in your presence. The feeling of the air in the space you occupy that doesn’t allow him to let it go.  
He almost rolls his eyes, really, because why is he so caught up in this? Part of him still believes that what happened that night never did. 
But you’re here, you, who just this time last week, he’d wanted nothing to do with. You didn’t matter enough for him to spare a thought if it wasn’t for complaining or trying to rinse Seokjin’s ears out with a few choice words because yes, you - absolutely, most definitely - had to be at the fair with them.  
Yoongi still thinks Seokjin traded spots with Jimin to pick you up on purpose. Just out of spite.  
He doesn’t think it’s too much of a bad thing now, since really, you’re all he thought of in the days following, and, under no good circumstance, this past week.  
You, who shared the same weird moment with him, and that stupid card is sitting on his dresser, still. He’d said that you both should start over, and he meant it. He’d like to backtrack a bit, he thinks, figure out the when and why you both had started out the way you had.  
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Around the perimeter of the fair, there’s a sparse smattering of trees. It’s not much to hide a person, much less two sneaking around, but if Yoongi remembers correctly; that strange woman’s tent was just at the edge of it. He waits until you’re out of the car, expression a little distrusting – your slightly narrowed eyes giving him a once over. He thinks nothing of taking your hand, tugging you long behind him as he moves around to the corner of the entrance, he peeks around the booth and through the chain-linked fencing. Everyone on the compound seems far enough away, no one close enough to see you two act like teenagers up to no good, one bad step away from getting arrested for trespassing.   
“What are you doing?” You ask, loud enough to make Yoongi falter the step he was about to take. He turns to you slightly, lips in a flat line, you stare at him expectantly and Yoongi wave his hand. 
“I don’t know, what does it look like we’re doing?” He asks, shaking his head at you before turning around again. The first booth that’s closet to the entrance has people milling about it now, two of them carrying boxes and the other person fumbling with something in their hands.  
“I am so not climbing this fence, Yoongi.” You say, and Yoongi feels the finger of your free hand poking his back. 
“Obviously, shithead. You wanna get arrested?” Yoongi rolls his eyes skyward and stares for a moment, sighing. “We’re going around, now keep quiet, you’re talking too loud.”  
You grumble something to yourself, and Yoongi ignores you, waiting until the folks at the booth seem busy enough not to notice you both; backs to you. He pulls you along beside him, crossing over some shrubbery and into the trees, as you both move further along, there’s more people. The trees do a good job at hiding you both, and Yoongi knows it’s not much further when he sees the bathroom’s chipping paint.       
This is a terrible idea, but Yoongi’s had worse. Though, this is very high on his list of bad decisions.  
Eventually there’s a break in the chain link fence, where the shrubbery and the sparse trees meet the edge of the compound. The space where he clearly remembers the tent being, is unsurprisingly empty.  
“Now what?” You murmur next to him, quietly even though there’s no reason for you to be whispering.  
Yoongi lifts a shoulder in a shrug, “Can’t say we didn’t try...Hey-” He reaches for you as you walk past him and onto the compound. He follows – of course he does – grabbing your wrist and tugging you back a little before you can get too far. “There’s nothing here.”  
Yoongi scans the area anxiously, knowing his luck, someone’s bound to see you both standing here in broad daylight. It’s unnervingly quiet, save for the faint sounds of people around the compound doing their jobs. 
Something settles in your expression that Yoongi doesn’t like, as you stare at the empty lot. There’s a furrow between your brows, teeth worrying at your bottom lip. Yoongi understands, he wants this over with as much as you do. He wants a night where his dreams don’t disturb the little sleep he can catch on a normal day. Not stuck in some endless loop of mishaps. 
Yoongi releases his hold, keeping an eye out while you figure out whatever is going on in your head. He wants to ask, not let you sink too far, but shakes his head instead, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans.  
It took a second to realize there was something more in there than his car keys. Small and sleek and making the hair on the back of his neck raise. Yoongi takes a breath, settling his nerves before pulling the item out of his pocket. By now, he’s used to it – stranger things have happened – but it doesn’t change the fact that he left the stupid card on his dresser.  
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