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#i could post wips but i want to work on them a bit more first so i have smth to show
snowaftermidnight · 5 months
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what do you mean i have to work on my ideas for weeks and i cant just broadcast my mental image. sick and fucking twisted
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greenplumbboblover · 1 month
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WIP #1 - Stories Be Told
A mod that has arisen from playing TS2 and loving Stardew Valley! (and always wanting to get to know the townies a bit better :))
I know I haven't really replied too much on the post about the mod idea, but I had to figure out personally what to pick and how to even attempt this from a technical perspective.
I went through 5 adaptations, to eventually get to this result! :) So while most of it is definite, I'm still fine-tuning a lot (and writing the stories).
How does it work?
The mod comes with two ways to get to know your fellow townie! With townie, you have to understand that EA townies will have them. Newly generated townies will NOT have any stories.
🕵️‍♀️Secrets (aka, facts!)
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Depending on your sim's Lifetime points (that red/green bar), and relationship status (friends, enemies, etc), you'll get to know more about them! Of course, if you're in the red, you might get some nasty comments!
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The idea is that the better you get to know them, the more they open up. Just like real people! They all have their unique dialogue as well!
❤️ Heart Events ❤️
Inspired heavily by Stardew Valley's approach, as using the TS2's scripted events wasn't working technically speaking,
A heart event will trigger by itself with a Text message, just like getting an invitation for a party.
Let's have a look at one with Morgana's Heart events!
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Morgana has sent a text message asking Christopher to come along to have dinner at her house. We could ignore it without any consequences... or go ahead and go anyway!
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Your sim will automatically make their way to the place they are invited to go to! And Christopher just made it as well :)
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(Not getting too much into spoilers here hehe) but eventually Thornton and Morgana end up in a fight.
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What's cool is that certain heart events will want your input! Such as this one:
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I'm still working on fixing the dialogue btw :p
Some of these will have pretty unpredictable outcomes, so be aware of that if you want your town to stay the same without any progression into a family's dilemma!
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... and what's even better is that this all happened automatically!
Just like a scripted event, they ended up arguing where it made sense in the dialogue, moved to the kitchen to excuse themselves, and eventually asked the player to leave (of which the player did automatically!)
🛠 Info for World builders and Developers
What's even better is that you can make your stories yourself! While heart events will require you C#, the secrets will only require you the existing sim's Sim Id and some XML knowledge! :)
I'll make tutorials of course on how to make each, but I figured it would be good to add that this is all super flexible on making your own stories.
That's it! The mod is technically done from a technical perspective, but I still have loads of stories to write (I only finished Morgana's so far 😬), So any feedback at this point would be really appreciated so I can implement it before release! :)
I'll release it first with Stories for Sunset Valley first, then move on to twin brook, Bridgeport, etc.
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fyodior · 3 months
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FUCK YOU, FUCK ME!
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pairing: toji fushiguro x gn!reader (no anatomy described)
cw: pegging toji !!!! reader uses a strap, toji is hesitant but goes along with it and ends up LOVING it. anal (m!receiving), missionary and doggy, minor orgasm control, etc. kind of glorified anal so keep that in mind. MINORS DONT INTERACT ILL BITE
notes: this is a sponsored fic for @ficsforgaza, and im so so excited to finally be posting it!! (other wips available for sponsor here) go check out some other great creators on the blog too!! and this is my first time back writing in a bit so pls be kind :") divider by @/cafekitsune!
wc: 2.8k
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“Toji, sweetheart, you need to relax.”
“Fuck- I’m fuckin’ trying,” your lover grunts, wincing and sucking in a sharp breath. “I’m not fuckin’ used to things inside’a me like you are.” You choose to ignore that last quip. 
Only half a very well lubed finger deep into his tight ass, you figure this is going to be a long night, but you know it’ll be so, so, worth it - for both you and him. 
The day you first proposed trying anal to Toji, he was all for it - excited even. Until he found out that you meant he’d be the one receiving, and his face immediately fell. 
“No. Nope. Nothin’s goin’ up my shitter,” he had responded, making you roll your eyes and groan. You swore up and down that a prostate orgasm could be life changing for males, but he flat out refused for months. It wasn’t until your birthday when you promised him he didn’t have to buy you a gift if he agreed to try anal just once - and then he was all for it. 
He was hesitant as the two of you scrolled through sex toy websites to search for the best possible strap and dildo for him. Pointing out ones you thought he might like only made his face contort in discomfort, haunted by the thought of something going inside his asshole. The list of “hard no’s” grew and grew the longer you searched: nothing longer than 6 inches, nothing girthier than a circumference of 5 inches, no skin colors because that felt too real, and no balls. Toji Fushiguro was a hard man to please. 
Finally, finally, after months of convincing, hours of online shopping, and a few more days following the arrival of the package, did you have your lover laid out in front of you, legs spread and hole awaiting. It was the sweetest fucking sight in the world, and you were so grateful you maintained enough patience to get to this moment. Good things really do come to those who wait.
The harness was already strapped around your waist, painfully eager to attach the dildo and get to it, but of course there was ample prep required, especially for someone completely new to anal. Per your request, he had showered prior to you getting home from work and had tried to clean himself out a little bit, which you were very grateful for. Now you were tasked with stretching and prepping his hole. Your mouth watered at the thought of it. 
Instructing him to lay on his back, for no other reason than you wanted to see his face, you press his thick, sinewy thighs apart and settle between them. You had done your best to create a gentle, relaxing environment in your shared bedroom, with the lights dimmed low, a few candles flickering on the shelf, and soft music playing from the TV. Yet still, the man was as tense as a clenched fist. 
The goal was to get him a little worked up and wanting it, so you start with a little foreplay. Kissing him softly, you jerk him off slowly, getting him hard enough that he wants to cum. His hard cock lays neglected on his belly as he rests on his back, propped up against a horde of pillows, and you could honestly cum just at the sight of him. Toji is fucking beautiful.
But now it was finally time. After dousing your fingers in a thick, goopy layer of lube, you press the tip of your ring finger against his puckered hole, and he immediately flinches.
“Baby, I promise I won’t make this hurt, you have to breathe, though,” you plead, using your other hand to massage his thigh. “Here - take a deep breath with me.” 
Motioning for him to follow, you suck in air, watching him closely. After rolling his eyes and deciding he’ll finally play along, he mimics you. The second he releases the breath he was holding, his body deflating, you take the chance and slip in your finger down to just the first knuckle.
He immediately gasps, furrowing his brows and grunting. “Hey! You fuckin’ tricked me!” he accuses, indignant as a little kid. 
You chuckle in response. “It got it in, didn’t it?”
You stay like that for a bit, wriggling the tip of your finger purely just to start getting him used to the feeling of something inside him, watching his expressions closely.
“Does it feel good at all, babe?” 
It takes Toji a moment to respond, clearly chewing on the idea in his brain. “It… it’s weird,” he finally says, pursing his lips. “It just feels strange - not… bad, though. Yet.” 
“Good,” you nod. “Good. Just hang in there, and you’ll feel good soon, okay? Promise.”
He just grumbles before gripping his cock, fisting it a few times before you smack his hand away. 
“Hey!” he gasps, jaw wide open. “It’s my dick!”
“No. I said no touching yourself yet,” you bite back. When he looks like he’s about to pitch a fit, you decide to throw in a “please, baby? For me?” and he backs down. Toji is nothing if not a sucker for you.
After warning him, you push your finger in to the second knuckle. He sucks in a sharp breath, but makes no protest - a good sign. Soon, you have your whole finger inside him, and he’s panting a bit.
“See, baby? I knew you could take it,” you smile softly. 
“Whatever,” Toji grumbles, avoiding your gaze. He can deny it all he wants, but he can’t hide the fact that his dick twitched every time you pushed your finger in a little further. “Let’s hurry this up and get it over with.”
Your eyes go wide at that, but you nod. “Your wish is my command, sir,” you smirk.
And just like that, your whole pointer finger has bullied its way inside him. 
“Fuck!” Toji coughs, lurching forward. “You can’t do that!”
“Oh, but I can,” you grin impishly. “Just lay back and let me work you open, okay?”
Now that you have two fingers inside him, you can actually make some headway. Squirting some more lube around his entrance, you start to very slowly fuck him with your fingers, pumping them in and out at a snail’s pace. Toji stays silent, still refusing to meet your gaze, but his cheeks are cherry red and he’s gripping the sheets with a tight fist. 
The quiet music coming from the TV hums softly in the background, and you hope it’s relaxing him at least a little as you slowly spread your fingers apart, trying to scissor them open to loosen the muscles and stretch him out. Toji’s breath hitches when you spread them even past when his hole starts to resist, and you smirk. You guess he likes the feeling of being full just as much as you do. 
Time passes painfully slowly while you work him open with your fingers, aching to finally get inside him. To finally fuck Toji in the way he deserves. Finally, you feel like he’s prepped enough to adequately take the strap. It might hurt a tiny bit, but what’s the harm in that?
“Okay, sweetheart,” you start as you fit the jet black dildo into the O-ring connected to the strap. “You okay on your back like this, or do you wanna take it from the back?”
His face burns bright red at the thought of you fucking him in doggy, so he just shakes his head. “ ‘m fine like this,” he mumbles, and you nod.
Once again settling between his thighs, you wrap a hand around his cock and pump it lazily, offering him a small smile.
“You look so pretty laid out like this for me, legs spread and ass spread so wide, ready to take my cock,” you muse, mind in overdrive.
“S-st-stop,” Toji squeaks out, biting his fist. He won’t admit it, he can’t admit it, he’ll die before admitting how much that turns him on. He can’t admit how his ass has started to ache for something to fill it back up again, even though you’re more than willing to oblige. 
“Can’t, baby boy,” you frown, leaning in for a kiss. “Not when I finally have you like this.” 
The brief kisses seem to relax the tense man just a bit, melting against your lips and kissing back hungrily. You could’ve sworn you caught a just fuck me already under his breath, but he’ll refuse it until his deathbed. 
When you make eye contact with him and he nods, you press the well-lubed tip of the strap against his hole, watching with stars in your eyes as it resists, but still tries to spread open. A cough can be heard from near the headboard, but no protests so far. Soft whines fight to escape Toji’s throat as you push in each centimeter of the silicone cock, face burning hot and red. About halfway in, you pause, giving the man a moment to breathe and acclimatize to the intrusion inside him. He’s grateful for it too, huffing and groaning and squirming as he tries to find a more comfortable position, but there is none. Not when there’s something hard shoved up his ass. You just stay as patient as a saint, massaging his muscly thighs and running your hands up his torso, trying your best not to lean too far forward and inch any more of the cock inside him. As a treat, you give his throbbing, aching cock a few tugs with your spit coated palm, and he lets out a sigh. 
One more moment of eye contact, and more nod, and you push your hips a little farther forward. Suddenly, Toji lurches forward again.
“Gah!!” he cries out, eyes wide and heaving. “What- what was that? What did you do?” The accusatory questions only make you laugh, leaning in to kiss him sweetly. 
“Must be your sweet spot - your prostate,” you chuckle. “Here - let’s try again.” 
Pulling out a few inches and thrusting in again has Toji sputtering and groaning all over again. You can’t help but break out into a wild smirk. This is exactly what you wanted. Not only for yourself, as a perfect view to marvel at and take in, but for him - Toji deserves this, deserves to feel good. 
Leaning forward, hands braced on either side of his chest, you muster up all your strength and thrust hard. This time his head is falling back against the pillow as he cries out with a call of your name, too.
“It’s all the way inside, sweetheart,” you smile, marveling at how the silicone balls are pressed firm against his ass. “How do you feel?”
“G-good,” he nods, gulping. “Just- let’s just do this- please,” Toji chokes out.
This version of Toji, one so vulnerable and desperate, is one you’ve never seen before. Not even when he’s fucking you - he’ll get desperate to get his dick wet, sure, but this is… different. Sweeter. His dark, unruly hair is matted to his forehead with sweat, and his chest is heaving in anticipation. You simply have no choice than to give him exactly what he wants.
Inching your strap out to where the tip is almost dangling out of his hole, you thrust all the way back in, relishing in the way he once again moans. His reaction is so much sweeter than you could’ve imagined, and you simply can’t help the way you go fucking crazy. Your thrusts pick up speed, anchoring yourself by gripping the sheets hard as you erratically fuck your lover’s ass. The both of you are complete messes, groaning and whining and gasping almost theatrically, chasing a beautiful high. 
“Harder,” Toji grunts, pulling you in by your cheeks for a messy kiss as his thick legs circle your waist. “Fuck! Fe-feels so fucking good, fuck, fuck fuck…” he blabbers, your face still in his tight grip. You couldn’t give less of a shit, just want to see him falling apart even more, so you give him exactly what he asks for.
Wet sounds of lube and skin on skin echo throughout the bedroom, mixed with the tunes of both your moaning and groaning. An ache is blossoming in your thigh muscles and you can feel yourself losing stamina but you refuse to give in just yet, using every ounce of your strength to piston your hips in and out of him. Toji can’t help but clench tight around your cock, you can feel it by the increased resistance, and you truly think you must have died and gone to heaven. 
“Toji, sweetheart,” you call, trying to grab the man’s attention. “Get on your hands and knees for me, okay?”
For the first time likely ever, the man does as he’s asked with no protest. He hisses a bit as you slip all the way out of his tight heat, but scrambles to flip over and present his ass for you. There’s no way this is your Toji, not when he’s acting like this - but you decide you’ll allow yourself to indulge in this doppelganger, just for tonight. 
Some adjustments to his stance are required, as he is taller than you, but you soon find a comfortable position so that your hips can be flush against his ass. His throbbing cock and balls hang heavy at this angle, dangling between his thighs, but he doesn’t seem to mind. At this angle, you have a much better view of his beautiful ass, using two hands to spread his cheeks apart and stare with a slack jaw at his abused hole, puffy and throbbing. It’s mind boggling that you were inside him. And will be again. With one languid thrust, you’re bottoming out again and pressing his face into the pillow, making him cry out. 
This angle, while depriving you of your lover’s beautiful face, is much easier for your task. Having his ass presented for you like this makes fucking him a breeze - so you take, and take, and take, and take. Pump in and out of his tight, wet hole, both of your bodies trembling as you’re overcome with so much emotion and overstimulation. You feel like a bitch in heat with the way you’re rutting into him, bottoming out with almost every thrust. 
“Fuck,” Toji spits. “I’m gonna fucking cum.” 
Your eyes go wide at the realization. He’s going to cum? Just from getting fucked? Holy shit.
“Yeah, baby? Wanna cum? Feels so good getting fucked, huh?” you tease, continuing to fuck him hard and deep. “Want me to help you out, or so how long it takes for you to cum just from getting your ass fucked? Hm?” Your own words are lost on you, seemingly coming from a place of pure lust and not from your rational mind.
“Please help,” Toji chokes out. And he’s been so good, not touching his cock this entire time, taking your cock so well, that you decide to do as he asks. 
Your pace slows down some as you wrap a hand around his aching, angry red cock, thumbing at the tip and using his tacky precum to lube up your hand some. It only takes one, two, three strokes before he’s gasping and spurting thick, hot ropes of cum onto the bed, whole body tensing as he cries out louder than you’ve ever heard before. He collapses onto the bed, and you take the message, pulling your strap out from his abused hole. No words come from his mouth, only heaves and gasps for air as he tries to come to terms with what just occurred. You don’t nag him at all, just flop down next to him and push his sweat-soaked hair out of his eyes.
“Did that feel good, baby? Hm?” you ask, smiling softly at him. That’s truly all you ever wanted. You truly couldn’t give much of a shit about your own desires and lust - all you ever, ever wanted in this world was for your lover to feel good. 
Toji gulps. “....Yeah. Felt real good.” It’s obvious he’s exhausted, only moments from passing out. You can’t blame him.
“Did so, so good for me, sweetheart,” you coo, leaning in to give him a gentle kiss on the forehead. “Now get some rest. It’s hard getting fucked, isn’t it?” That makes him chuckle weakly.
“Fuck you,” he rasps, but he has a lopsided smile on his face. “Love you. Really. Thank you.”
Your heart soars and you smile widely. “Of course, sweetheart. Always. I love you. Now please get some rest so we can go for a second round.”
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turtletaubwrites · 6 months
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Wrong Side of the Bars
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Thank you anon for this lovely request, and thank you all for voting on which wip I worked on next! I hope you enjoy it! 🐊
Pairings: Crocodile x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 3990
Ao3 Link
Summary: Your promotion landed you in hell, otherwise known as Level 6 of Impel Down. All you wanted to do was work this shit job so you could move on up, but there's one prisoner that won't leave you alone. It turns out those long nights go by faster with a bit of company.
Author's Note: Oh, Sir Crocodile 🐊🥰 I would cave so fucking fast
Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Swearing, Smut, Pet Names, Praise Kink, Size Kink, Large Cock, Cunnilingus, Face-Sitting, Vaginal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Spit, Prison Sex, Penis in Vagina Sex, Unprotected Sex, (stay safe out there!), Hair-Pulling, Possessive Behavior, Come Eating, Biting, Bondage, Power Imbalance, I'd Commit Felonies For This Man
| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |
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“You’re new.”
He wasn’t the first prisoner to try to talk to you, but he was the first that you made eye contact with. You cursed yourself for that, not wanting to make any sort of connection with these monsters as you pushed their meals through the slots, and monitored the hell that was Level 6. 
“What’s a pretty thing like you doing trapped down here in the muck?”
Sir Crocodile. 
You had studied all of the terrifying prisoners you’d be guarding, but there was something about this man that scared you. 
That fear had to show on your face as he smirked down at you. He was so tall, at least a couple feet taller than you, and the scar that tore his face in half across his cheekbones had your mouth going dry. 
He chuckled as he leaned down, the handcuffs clinking against metal as he rested his forearms on the bars, his hands dangling out of the cell. 
Not hands. Hand. And a gleaming metal hook. 
“Stay in your cell,” you ordered, backing up too fast as his smile widened. 
Why the fuck did they let him keep that thing? It looks fucking deadly. 
“My apologies, miss…” he paused, pulling his arms back as he waited for you to fill in the blank. 
“You may address me as ‘guard.”
He didn’t.
Sir Crocodile called you “pretty thing” every shift. 
It didn’t help that the guard post station was right next to his fucking cell. You knew this was going to be a shit job, but you were working your way up, and this promotion could get you placed somewhere cushier in the long run. Plus, the berries they had to pay to convince anyone to come down here was impressive. 
These prisoners were the worst of the worst, and working down here was never going to be easy. 
But you didn’t expect to have silver eyes watching your every move, matched by that silver tongue that got you flustered all too easy. You were too embarrassed to ask the other guards if he treated them the same way. 
~
“How’s your morning going, pretty thing?”
“It’s nighttime,” you deadpanned, grimacing that you’d answered him again. It had only been a couple of weeks, but it was getting harder to ignore the only person you could talk to during these long shifts in the cold, dark, gloom of Impel Down. 
“I guess it doesn’t matter down here,” he hummed, sitting on the floor close to the bars to see you better. 
There aren’t even any other prisoners in this section. They were all on death row, and now I’m stuck posted next to this… this…
Admitting it to yourself pissed you off, but Crocodile was charming. And fucking hot. 
He rested his head on his fist while he smirked at you, and you braced yourself for more of that deep voice. 
“Why are you down here?”
The lack of the nickname added to the genuine tone in his words, and you gave in.
“I got a promotion.”
Crocodile leaned back, surprised laughter booming through the air. Your skin flushed, and he squinted up at you as he shook his head. 
“You’re joking, right? A pretty thing like you, stuck in the dark? Bringing slop to bad men like me? That can’t be a fucking promotion,” he balked, tapping his hook against the bars to emphasize his point. 
Gritting your teeth, you kept your eyes away from that cell as the ex warlord laughed softly to himself for the rest of your shift. 
~
“What’s it like to have devil fruit powers,” you asked, tapping fingers on your desk as you stared at him. Barely a month had gone by, and now you were spending hours every shift talking to this dangerous criminal. 
“It’d be a lot more enjoyable without this tacky jewelry,” he complained, waving the sea prism stone cuffs in the air. 
“Maybe you should’ve thought of that before going all evil.”
Ice sunk to your gut as you caught his eyes. You had a feeling he was not someone to disrespect, even if he was locked up. 
“I like you,” he announced, huffing a laugh. 
The praise had you digging your fingers into your thighs, your voice a bit too high for the rest of the night. 
~
“Are you seeing someone?”
“Excuse me,” you coughed, sitting up from your too relaxed position.
“I can’t imagine you have a lot of options on this rock,” he wondered aloud, tilting his head down toward you. “It has to be pretty lonely.”
Chills ran over your body as his voice went low, those innocent words laced with the promise of sin. 
“That’s none of your business,” you scoffed, breathy as you tried not to squirm. 
“I suppose not,” he hummed, leaning against the bars. “But you work such a stressful job. I bet you need someone to help you relax a bit. I know you deserve it.”
It was like his words were on your skin, heating you up. You didn’t realize just how fucking pent up you were until he started torturing you. 
“I’d never ask you to let me out,” he assured, raising his arms in front of him, rattling the chain between his cuffs. “I know you don’t have the key to these cuffs, so there wouldn’t be a point in leaving this cage on my own anyway.”
“I’m not letting you–”
“Like I said, pretty thing, I won't leave this cell until these cuffs are gone. But I do want to give you some relief. You could join me in here for a while. We’ve got all night, no one else is around. Wouldn’t you like a little help with all of that stress?”
“No– I…” you choked out, shaking your head.
How could I let things go this far? I’ve been so unprofessional, talking to him like this.
Crocodile interrupted your internal criticism with a laugh, his eyes pouring over you. 
“No worries, doll. I’m sure you’ll be thinkin’ about it later. You know where to find me when you change your mind.”
“Don’t you mean if,” you corrected, trying to gain some footing back. 
“No,” he teased, giving you a sly wink before turning away, laying on his cot as he hummed to himself. 
Your thoughts turned to chaotic noise as your brain tried to delete that conversation. Staring at his back while he laid down for the rest of your shift, you willed yourself to have some sense of self preservation. 
Finally in your own bed, you closed your eyes, hoping to see nothing but inky blackness. 
But all you could see were silver eyes, a golden hook, and a devilish smile. 
Fuck.
~
“Why should I trust you?”
Your hoarse whisper raised his brow as he stood in front of you, your own body closer to the bars than you’d normally risk. 
“I won’t survive this place alone with these cuffs on, and I’m not stupid enough to risk it. I’m fucking bored, and I could use some company. Why would I hurt the only pretty thing I get to see down here?”
Trusting this criminal would be insane. I could lose my job. I could be thrown behind bars. He could fucking kill me, even without his devil fruit powers. Don’t fucking do this. Don’t be a fucking idiot. Don’t–
“Okay,” you breathed, your crime barely audible as he watched your guilty lips. 
Crocodile’s crooked grin made you shiver, and you caught yourself chewing on your lip to keep from returning a shy smile. 
“Such a good girl,” he teased, stepping away from the bars. “I’m gonna take care of you.”
His praise and his promise ran through you like electricity, and your body twisted with need while you struggled with the keys. 
“Take your time, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere.”
Even his laughter felt delicious, like you needed to get closer, to taste it on your tongue. 
The heavy click of metal stopped your breath, and Crocodile stood as still as a statue while the door swung open. He didn’t move a muscle, as if trying not to spook you. 
Each step damned you further, until you were in the monster’s cage. You locked yourself in, the cold ring of keys stuffed into your pocket as you turned to face him. 
Crocodile looked at you with such satisfaction that it made your toes curl, as if you’d already given him everything. It only took him a couple of steps to cross the room, and in a moment you were staring up at him, your body on fire with anticipation. 
The chain of the cuffs stretched as he reached his hand to your cheek. That large thumb was so gentle as it stroked your skin, and you let out a sigh. 
Then you gasped, his thumb just a distraction for that golden hook as it pulled at your collar, that sharp point dangerously close to your throat. 
“Take these off before I ruin your little uniform.”
The words could have been a request, a command, or a threat, but the heat in his voice had you pulling at your tie, frantic to obey him. 
Just as you tossed the last bit of clothing to the side, he knelt down to kiss you, pressing the bare skin of your back against the metal bars. 
Crocodile kissed you with more care than you’d expected, as if he were eating a fine meal, tasting every note, enjoying the luxury he’d earned or taken. As you opened to him, he explored you, his large tongue so controlled. 
Until you needed more, digging your nails into his slicked back hair, moaning into his mouth.
Thick fingers trailed between your thighs until they pulled away wet. He chuckled at the little whines you let out when he broke contact, tasting you on his fingers. 
“So eager,” he hummed, resisting your grabby hands to pull him back in. “Hang on to the bars.”
You were glad for the order, because the sight of this menacing villain lying on his back, and sliding his head between your legs would have knocked you over.
“Don’t be shy, pretty thing. Let me take care of all that stress for ya.”
I can’t believe this is happening. 
He laughed as you turned around, mumbling that 'the other way was fine,' before you lowered yourself down. 
The first touches were like that kiss, controlled and steady. He pressed his lips against your clit, then his tongue explored, just as gentle as before.
Your hips squirmed above him as you held yourself up, until he growled against your flesh. That sensation alone sent your eyes rolling back, then his hand gripped your waist to shove you down. His hook was trapped behind your back, the chain of his cuffs rubbing against your ass with every movement. 
All the control he’d shown before was gone, and you bit one of your wrists not to scream. Looking down into those wicked eyes was a mistake, as you had to fight your body not to collapse, not to send his name echoing through this desolate, stone hell. 
His tongue was so long, you couldn’t believe how deep he could taste you. He invaded you, trying to eat his way inside your body, like a dog chewing through a bone. More of his moans and growls vibrated through you as you rode along the planes of his face. 
“Fuck, oh gods, I’m…” you choked out, your knuckles turning white against the bars as you came on this criminal’s face. 
His grip on you stayed firm as you spasmed, forcing you to stay in place while he lapped up your pleasure. 
“Holy shit,” you breathed, still twitching when he finally released you. You’d barely laid beside him when he was on you, filling your mouth with the taste of you as you shivered against the stone floor. 
“You taste too fucking good to be trapped down here,” he rasped between kisses, trailing his lips down your jaw and neck. 
“I’m not trapped.”
His teeth clamped down, just the threat of a bite at the crook of your neck. Your breath caught, your body unable to hide the fact that it was more excited than afraid to have this predator at your throat. 
Crocodile gave your body what it wanted, pressing his teeth into your flesh slowly, tracing his fingers along your thigh. You melted as the pressure grew sharp, your eyes fluttering as you gave him a breathy moan. 
His tongue teased over the mark he’d made, and you were grateful for your uniform’s high collar before you forgot who and where you were again. 
His fingers took that moment to find you, two plunging into your still twitching cunt. He kissed you again, tasting your moans as he added another thick finger.
Digging your nails into his arms, you struggled to breathe through his kiss as he stretched and played with you. 
“Come here, pretty thing,” he teased, helping you move unsteadily toward the cot. He leaned over you, kissing your temple before breathing more promises against your ear, sending chills over your skin. 
“I’m gonna fuck all of that stress out of your perfect, little body,” he whispered, letting you hang onto him as you gasped. “But first, you're gonna use that pretty mouth to get my cock nice and messy for you, alright?”
“Mhm,” you agreed, biting your lip as you watched him toss his thin pillow to the floor. He smirked at you before tugging down his striped pants. Kicking them out of the way, he sat on the bed with his legs spread wide. Those heavy balls hung down over the side of the mattress while you stared at his veiny cock. 
“It’ll fit, sweetheart,” he winked, resting his arms and cuffs between his legs as he waited for you. “Just get it nice and wet for me, and I’ll show you.”
You’d already thrown out every last bit of self preservation the second you walked into this cell, so you sank down to your knees on the pillow, and looked up at him. 
He was so scary.
But the satisfied way he looked at you made you want to say yes to anything, just to keep those silver eyes on your skin. He lifted his arms over you until you were caged between his long legs and the meat of his body, with the chains on his wrists tickling your back. 
Taking him in your hands, you almost lost your nerve as you moved along that velvet girth, but his deep voice pulled you back.
“Mm, just like that, beautiful.”
Desperate for more of that praise, you pressed your lips to his swollen tip. His mouth parted when you tasted that bead of precum, teasing it around his tip with your tongue while your hands kept stroking his length.
The noises he made were low and pleased as you took what you could of him into your mouth. You gave everything, tasting and sucking him becoming your only purpose, spurred on by more intoxicating words. 
“So gorgeous with your mouth all full. Just a little sloppier now. You can drool on my cock like a good girl, can’t ya?”
Moaning around him, you let as much spit as you could drip down his shaft, gasping when he grabbed your hair to pull him off of you.
A line of spit connected your lips to his cock as you blinked up at him. His eyes were dark, and you whimpered as he tightened his fingers in your hair, the sensation arching your back. 
“Lay down,” he commanded as he released your hair, standing slowly to tower above you. He tugged the thin blanket off the bed with his hook, holding it out to you with a dangerous tilt to his head. 
Spreading the fabric across the rough floor, you laid down with the pillow under your head. He watched your every move, his stillness making your breath shallow again. 
You didn’t just want to be meek prey for this crocodile to devour. You wanted to devour him back. 
I want this. 
Meeting his dark eyes with your own, you spread your thighs, teasing your fingers over your clit. 
“I’m wait–”
Crocodile went to his knees, cutting you off with a laugh. He caged you in with his elbows above your head, the sound of metal hitting stone making you gasp. 
“Barely had a taste, and my pretty thing's already greedy? Show me where you want it,” he taunted, rubbing that thick length through your folds. 
Just the touch of him had your eyes rolling back, but you obeyed. You wrapped shaky fingers around him, guiding him to your entrance before you tried, and failed, to relax. 
“Breathe deep for me, babydoll. You want me to fill you up, don’t you,” he rasped, pressing just the tip of him inside, already bringing a moan to your lips. 
“That’s right,” he praised as you tried not to squirm away from his slow invasion. “I knew you’d love taking my cock. Mm, I felt that. Is that what you want, pretty thing? You want mean ol’ Crocodile to fuck you deep?”
The stretch had taken your thoughts, left you with tears in your eyes, and the hint of drool in the corner of your lips. 
All you could do was pant, and whine, and beg. 
“Please, fuck me, Crocodile. I–”
He hadn’t met your hips yet, but he drew himself out and started fucking into you, tearing a scream from your throat.
Without stopping, he brought his large hand to cover your mouth, the chain of his cuffs hitting against the top of your head with every thrust. 
Crocodile slowed down, rocking his hips up into you. He pushed further, until you were shaking at the sensation of him fully hilted, stretching you further than you’d ever felt. 
His hand left your face as his voice rolled over you again. 
“As much as I wanna hear you screaming my name, you’ve gotta keep it down. Can you do that for me, pretty?”
“Mhm,” you whined, needing him to start moving again.
Another filthy scream left your throat, until you choked on two large fingers. 
“Looks like you need to practice your fucking manners, sweetheart,” he scolded, gagging your screams away while he fucked you across the stone floor, the blanket slipping away bit by bit with each powerful thrust. 
Every single thing about this moment was overwhelming, and as much as Crocodile’s praise had sent you leaping into danger, his scolding words made you shatter into pieces. Your orgasm crashed over you, your nails raking over any part of him you could reach while pleasure made your body thrash. 
“Fuuckk, you’re taking my cock so well.”
He emphasized those words with his body, filling you completely, over and over again 
“When I get out of here, I’m taking you with me. No more dungeons for my perfect, pretty thing. You hear me?”
He huffed a laugh when you moaned around his fingers again, then his thrusts went ragged as he gave you more orders. 
“Come for me while I fill you up, pretty. Play with that little clit. I wanna feel this pussy milking– Ha, you’re such a good girl.”
You were barely human anymore, with your eyes crossed as drool trailed down your cheek where his fingers pressed into your mouth, and your spasming flesh that begged for more abuse as he fucked you into the stone. 
“So good for me,” he grunted, pumping into you a few more times as you felt his thick cock pulsing and twitching. “My pretty thing…”
The heat and pressure of his come pouring into you had you arching your back, whimpering around his fingers as he whispered those last few words, claiming you in ways he couldn’t mean. 
You were fucking lost. As unreal as the night had seemed, it felt as if it were the only real night you’d ever had. All the adrenaline and pleasure had made you fucking high, and you were still reeling when he left you empty. He pulled you gently until your head was in his lap as he sat against the wall, wiping the drool from your cheek. 
“So, how’s that stress now, babydoll? Feel better,” he asked with that crooked smile.
“Fuck,” your breathed, your eyes going wide with panic as the real fucking world crawled back into your brain. 
I’m fucked. I’m gonna get fired, or arrested, or fucking killed, or–
“Hm. Looks like you need another round to clear that up for you.”
A nervous laugh escaped you, and you clamped your hand over your mouth, afraid of him again. 
“Don’t worry,” he rasped, licking his lips as he looked down your body. “I’ll just clean up the mess I made. Then you can pretend you never let Sir Crocodile fuck you in his dirty prison cell. Is that what my pretty thing wants?”
Your mind was still screaming, but your body knew. It wanted that skilled tongue to drink every drop of him out of you, and he laughed again when you moaned at the thought. 
The ex warlord was gentle, cleaning the evidence with his tongue, and bringing you to bliss one more time as he sucked on your clit like a piece of candy. He kissed along your body, a mix of teasing and praise floating over you, until his gentleness ended. 
“What,” you groaned, blinking your eyes open while he shook your face with a firm grip on your jaw. 
“It’s time to go sweetheart.”
“Oh. Oh.”
The criminal sat on his cot, grinning at you while you panicked, teetering on one foot when you pulled your pants on. 
“Is everything–”
“You look fine,” he soothed, still smirking. “You look like a guard, although you’re still on the wrong side of the bars.”
Nodding too fast, you pulled the heavy keys out of your pocket, but they clattered to the floor as fingers twisted into your hair. 
Crocodile yanked you toward him, the sensation of him holding you this way going from delicious to terrifying in seconds. All you could do was stare up into those cold eyes, all of your self defense training evaporating in the presence of such a predator. 
“I may be stuck in this cage for now,” he warned, leaning his face down to yours, “but you’re mine. Do you understand?”
Your body responded before you could think, your eyes rolling back as you gasped.
“There’s my pretty thing,” he praised, kissing away the fear as he loosened his grip on your hair. “Now go get some rest. You’ve got a long night of work ahead of you tomorrow, don’t you?”
Sitting at the guard post for the rest of your shift felt surreal. You knew that you had stepped out of that cell, and locked the door. You knew that he was still trapped, and you were still free. But even though you were the one with his mark left on your body, it felt like he’d kept a piece of you in that cage with him. 
Still, your mind and body struggled between fear, and the memories of his voice and his touch while you pleaded with the clock for your shift to end so you could take a fucking shower.
Crocodile left you alone for once, this little corner of hell silent for the first time in weeks. Yet, you knew he wasn’t asleep. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him sitting on his cot, darkness shrouding everything except for the faint gleam of gold. 
The shift finally ended, and your steps echoed through the hall. The words you’d heard at the end of every shift for weeks met your ears again, but now they set you on fire, fear and desire speeding your pulse.
“Goodnight, pretty thing.”
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Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!
a/n: Shit job, but the benefits sound nice 😈🐊
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Tag List: @shewrites02 | @jadeddangel
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Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.
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| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |
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Someone New 1
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include angst, pining, romcom tropes, and some darker elements later in the series. Some triggers may not be specifically tagged. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This fic will contain explicit content. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You've had a crush on your best friend for years, but you're slapped in the face with reality when he takes things to the next level with his girlfriend.
Characters: Steve Rogers, Thor
Note: please enjoy the first chapter!
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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“No, no, not the pink, red,” you cup your hand over your ear pod, “exactly what it says on the order sheet.” 
Were anyone to see you, sitting in the dirt, with a brush in hand, all alone, they might think you’re a bit out there. You, talking to the air, dusting off a clump of soil, orchestrating your own voice with the bristles. You dip your head as you focus on what the voice in your ear is saying. 
“I’m not trying to be difficult,” you argue, “I put in the order weeks ago. A red bow. I have the receipt– I mean sure, pink or red doesn’t matter to me but it’s not my birthday.” 
“We’ll see what we can do,” the woman relents. It’s not exactly a triumph but as close to as you can hope. If it’s pink, you’ll just have to take the fall. The damn fondant will be devoured by the night’s end anyhow. 
You hang up with a double tap on the ear pod and your playlist resumes. You go back to trying to uncover the shape caked in layers of muck, turning the brush to chip away the rougher bits with the pointed tip. The work is tedious but it has to be. You can’t risk damaging the relic nestled inside. 
The abrupt chiming of your ringtone once more sounds through the bluetooth earpiece. You huff and hit the pod with the heel of your hand. You greet the call with only your name. 
“Are you still on site?” Your boss, Arturo asks. 
“Yep, still here,” you still your hand and twist your arm, pulling back the end of your glove to see your watch, “just a bit longer. You know I have that thing tonight.” 
“Uh, yes, I recall,” he says dully as you hear paper shuffling, “you got time to chat?” 
“Sure,” you keep the cluster of dirt and the brush in one hand and use your other to push yourself to your feet, “I just gotta catalogue this before I finish the day.” 
“Well, I have good news and bad news,” he begins as you carefully walk between the cordoned off patches. The whole place is a maze of where and where not to step. You go into the tent and put down the half uncovered idol. It’s brittle, made of hide and yew, with a bit of bone. “Lucia is pregnant.” 
“Oh? That’s great,” you furrow your brow, wondering what that has to do with you. 
“Means she can’t travel for a while. She’s adverse to long term commitments at the moment so…” 
“So…” you trail off as you label the mound of dirt and make notes for the next day. 
“So, you want her assignment?” 
“Which one?” You peel off your gloves and shake off the excess filth. 
“Norway. It can be a bit dingy but the landscape is nice.” 
“Norway? For how long?” You close up the ledger and tuck it away on the shelf. You pass between the tables of artifacts as you pull out your phone. 
“Could be a while but I figured you never get to go very far. You’ve been pent up in-state for so long, you could use the vacation.” 
“Oh? Well, I…” you scroll through your phone and see the notifications. Emails confirming delivery, messages asking if everything is sorted. “I’d have to think about it…” 
It’s evasion more than indecision. You know you don’t want to go. You can’t go. Your whole life is here. You have an apartment and friends and… Steve. Your best friend.  
“Make sure you do think about it. It’s a great opportunity. Especially for a junior anthropologist. Lucia won’t be on leave forever.” 
“I know. I’ll think about it.” 
You hang up and pluck the earbud out. Ugh, you’re covered in dirt and dust. You don’t have time to go home and shower. You knew you wouldn’t. You have to be at the venue before everyone else. You can change there and try to wash up in the sink. Whatever, no one’s going to be looking at you anyway. It’s Peggy’s night. Yay. 
You lock the fence and tug one last time to make sure it’s secure. You drag your boots across the thinning grass to your car parked on a stretch of gravel. You drop inside and hit start. You connect to the bluetooth and get some tunes going. You buckle your seat belt as you check the mirrors. You’re probably going to have to speed there. 
You back out as the music blares from the speakers. It’s not loud enough to drown out your thoughts. Why did you agree to this? Peggy doesn’t even like you. Oh, but she likes Steve. She is his girlfriend and you are only his best friend. You’re supportive. You keep your mouth shut and smile. 
Ugh. You squeeze the wheel until your knuckles hurt. You know why you offered to help plan the surprise. You’re pathetic but you’re not delusional. It meant you got more time with him. There hasn’t been much of that since Peggy came along, not just the two of you. 
Classic, isn’t it? In love with your best friend. Friends since college. Friends forever, you vowed naively, thinking that forever would never come. Nothing lasts that long, you can only hope to outlast Peggy. 
And if you don’t, maybe this crush will finally run its course. 
💟
Red and white streamers decorate a long table set with trays. There’s a banner over it that reads ‘Happy Birthday, Peggy’, and a stack of gifts already forming in the corner. Guests drift in with anticipation as you hurry around to check off all the items on your list. 
You fix a small vase of flowers, trying to hide the droopy one in the back, and tug a wrinkle out of a tablecloth. You smile and wave at those who are early as you weave between them. You pull out your phone and lean it on the clipboard angle in the crook of your elbow. They’re on their way, okay. Keep it cool. 
As you come to the kitchen door, you nearly collide with someone else. Sam touches your arm gently as he keeps you from tripping backward. You gasp and hug the clipboard with a wobbly grin. 
“Hey,” you greet breathily, “you’re here.” 
You look down at the guest list and check him off. 
“Ah, figured I’d make an appearance,” he kids, “Rogers would take it pretty rough if his best pal wasn’t here.” 
“Please, don’t start that with Bucky again,” you warn as you point the pen in his direction, “the two of you, in fact, are seated separately.” 
“No fun!” He whines dramatically. 
You scrunch your lips at him and peer around. Yes, none of this has been fun. Caterers, servers, tables, space, food! Yes, you were going to check on the cake. Your sole squeaks as you twist sharply and go to slam your hand into the door. 
“Hey,” Sam blocks your way with his arm, “before you disappear, you’re still wearing your boots.” He points to your feet, “in case you’re wondering about the snail trail.” 
He sweeps his finger up in a gesture alluding to your previous path. You glance over at the dirt littered in your stead then down at your dusty boots. You sigh and hang your head back. 
“Fuck!” You snarl. 
“Don’t worry, I’ll find a broom,” he assures you, “while you take a breath. You need it.” 
“I can’t, Sam, they’re already on their way. I still have to get everyone in their place and… quiet,” you scowl, “ugh, this is gonna be so bad. I don’t know what I’m doing.” 
“So… why’d you do it?” He asks as he drags his hand away from the doorframe. You look at him and blink slowly. You shrug. 
“I’m a good friend,” you insist. 
He gives a skeptical hum and nods, “sure are,” he grumbles, “too good, if you ask me.” 
You throw up your hand before turning into the kitchen. You don’t have time to worry about him. Is he jealous that you’re helping Steve so much? Or does he know something else? You don’t let the seed sprout as you nearly cry out at the sight of the cake. 
A pink bow. Jeez. Of course. You check the cake off your list, nearly tearing through the paper. It’s better than nothing, even if Peggy never settles for less than the best. 
There’s no time to complain or send it back. Your phone vibrates again. Five minutes. Your heart is racing. Why? This isn’t even your party. You just want it to be perfect for Steve. You hate to disappoint him. Ever. 
You really shouldn’t care that much but you do. Like so many other things in your life. 
💟
The crowd can't keep quiet. There's a low buzz that ripples through the guests. A wave of anticipation that's spread like a deadly virus. 
You feel a nudge in your side and peek over as Bucky sends Sam a sneer and wriggles in place. Those two never let up. You hiss at them to quit and they look as guilty as a pair of unruly children. 
"He keeps tickling me," Bucky whispers. 
"No, I'm tryna fix his hair, look at this mess," Sam flicks a strand away from Bucky's cheek, "this is a nice event, Buck, not your living room." 
"Both of you," you warn.  
"You're bitching at me when Indiana Jones here brought the dig with her," Bucky mutters. 
You look down. Dammit. You still didn't change out of your boots. You roll your eyes. It's not about you. It's Steve's night. Er, Peggy's.  
You shake out your nerves and shake your head, "you two," you step behind Bucky and insert yourself between the men, "behave." 
"Yes, mom," Sam snickers as Bucky groans and tries to smooth the few shanks that have slipped free of his low ponytail. 
You exhale and give an exasperated look to the door. You really can't handle them on top of everything else. You just want this night to end already. All your hard work and you won't even get to enjoy any of it. 
"Everybody," Natasha hisses as she runs away from the doorway, "they're coming." 
The group quiets, as much as they can, a collective bated breath as you wait and listen. The lull is unbearable as the heat of the bodies around you pricks sweat down your neck and across your scalp. The door begins to open, almost as if in slow motion, and as the guest of honour is revealed, you cry out. 
"SURPRISE!" The eruption of the chorus has your head spinning as Peggy gives a melodramatic swoon, grabbing at Steve's arm as she leans on him heavily. 
She parts only to fan her eyes and squeal. "Oh my god, you guys!"  
She teeters on her heels as people holler happy birthday and her group of girlfriends flutter over to wrap her up in a cacophony of giggles and preening. You smile, a bittersweet twitch in your cheek as you watch her spin back to Steve and pull him into a kiss.  
You're happy for them really, proud to see all your effort come to fruition, but you just feel so hollow. For an instant, you think it should be you right there, gushing in glee over the celebration of another year, with Steve beside you.  
You gulp down the jealousy and wiggle your nose to ward away the tears. That's a stupid thought. If it hasn't happened in more than a decade, it's not going to happen now. 
💟
As the guests disperse into their own conversations, you finally manage to wade through to the happy couple. You approach with a small wave at Steve. He doesn't see you, he's watching Peggy as she chats with Natasha. 
"Hi," you call above the din, "so, you like it?" 
Steve turns to you, confusion stitching his forehead before he registers your questions. He nods and gives a smile, "it's amazing, you did so good!" 
The sparkle in his eyes, the perfect line of his jaw, the way he's looking at you, it makes your heart rend. You tilt your head and dig your toe into the floor bashfully, "thanks. I'm so happy to see it come together." 
"Um, the cake," he brings his index finger up, "I was hoping to bring it out soon." 
"Er, yeah, it's back in the kitchen. About that–" 
"Great," he claps your shoulder and brushes by you, "just gonna put the finishing touches on it." 
"Hm, what do you–" 
He's gone before you can finish your question. You deflate just a little, setting your feet flat as you sway aimlessly. The motion hooks Peggy's attention. You give a sheepish smile as you wring your hands. 
"Oh, uh, just came over to wish you a happy birthday," you chirp, "are you enjoying it?" 
"Ah, I didn't see you here, I thought maybe you were busy…" she gives a pointed look to your boots, "working." 
"Um, yeah, no," you fidget, "always happy to come support you two." 
"Where is Steve?" She gazes past you, shouldering by dismissively, "he was just…." 
Right. You nod and flit away in embarrassment. You can't say you ever got along with Peggy. Where you're accommodating, she's a bit too demanding. Different people, but you don't dislike her. You just don't mesh. Or perhaps it's just that you don't get what Steve sees in her. Especially when you're right there. 
Enough. This isn't about you or your stupid dumb heart. Just smile and go with it. 
The kitchen door swings open, a noise barely discernible above the hue, and the rattling wheels of a cart underline the steady drone. A lull washes over the crowd as they part. You move with the tide and face the sudden divide. 
A hush falls over the room as Steve pushes the cake across the floor. He stops before Peggy as she faces him, another feigned pout of surprise. He grins proudly at her as you stare curiously at the top of the cake. 
"Oh, pink?" She comments on the fondant bow as her eyes flick over to you. She quickly corrects herself an admires the double tiered dessert, "Steve, it's so pretty." 
You know she hates the colour. You recall the one time you wore a pink bow in your hair and she made a similar comment. Cute, she remarked in her roundabout way in her oh so sophisticated accent. 
You manufacture a smile and step closer as Steve beckons to the guest. Tension stills the air, almost paralyzing the crowd. You squint at the heart shaped box perched atop the bow. 
"Is this for me?" Peggy asks if it's not obvious. 
Steve nods, his cheeks tinting pink, as you notice how he wipes his palms on his pants. Peggy delicately takes the box from the pedestal of fondant and your ribs ache from the pounding of your heart. You curl your fingers until your nails dig into your skin as you watch him kneel beside her. 
She doesn't notice as she opens the box on its hinges. Her lips part and she stares at the contents. She looks over at Steve to find him on his knee and she claps her hand over her mouth. Her eyes gleam as she whimpers his name through her fingers. 
The scene hazes behind your tears as you stare wide eyed. Your ears ring as Steve's voice is dulled by your shock. 
"Margaret Elizabeth Carter," Steve's timbre warble just a bit, "will you make me the happiest man on earth?" 
You don't wait for her answer. You already know it. It's the very same you give in every outlandish dream you've ever had of your happy ending. You spin and storm through the crowd, blind with horror and self-pity. 
Surprise! Your whole world is crashing into pieces. 
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repulsiveliquidation · 9 months
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earmuffs
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Aitana Bonmatí x Reader [BLURB! angst.]
hey y'all! first work of the year! thank you all for being patient with me, i haven't been active one bit but hope you enjoy this one!
also send in more long aitana fic ideas! i have some blurb ones and one fic i have in my WIPs but i'd love to write more!
//
It’s New Year’s Eve in Barcelona and the whole team is together at Ona and Lucy’s house for the countdown. You’ve begrudgingly attended, your secret new girlfriend was insistent that you come before dragging you out of your house the day of. You’ve always hated fireworks, an accident when you were a kid in England that hurt your little brother still traumatized you despite it being years ago. The loud noises and the screaming didn’t help; you much preferred to be at home with all the windows locked tight and not a single curtain opened to hide under the blankets until the colorful lights were over.
"come on everyone, the countdown is in 10 minutes!”
Aitana stands, reaching out for your hand to help you up. She smiles softly before her face changes into one of confusion.
“Aren’t you coming?” she asks, reaching down to take your hand. You cringe and smile awkwardly, shaking your head.
“No, you go ahead Tana. I want to sit in here.”
“Bebita, it’s the uh fireworks! It’s pretty no? You can’t miss it, bebé.”
She tries to pull you up and you follow her, she walks ahead with a big smile as she joins the rest of your teammates on the deck.
You’re already trembling, reaching for the wicker chair on the deck to sit on. Kiera is beside you, she also happens to be the only one who knows about you and Aitana. She sees that scared look on your face, immediately rubbing your back as you sit.
“You okay, kid?”
“Uh, yeah. Just tired, that’s all.”
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, kiddo.”
Suddenly, Lucy is yelling while looking at her watch.
“3, 2, 1, HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!”
The team erupts in cheers and they start to light all their fireworks. Lucy managed to find big and loud ones this year, along with many long ones that you could hold and have them shoot out. You yelp in surprise when the first one goes off, a big box of 30 rounds blowing up in the middle of the garden. Aitana, who was watching you the entire time, hoping for a New Year’s kiss, saw the fear in your eyes before anyone else did. Her hands immediately pressed against your ears and they pulled you into her stomach as she stood between your legs and kissed your head. She leaned down and whispered in Catalan, you didn’t understand a thing but her soothing voice calmed you immediately. Tears streamed down your face but you held onto her, she didn’t move an inch until the fireworks stopped and the girls had retreated inside.
“Amor?” she said as she knelt, hands moving away from your ears to hold your wet face.
“Sorry, it’s stupid,” you begin, pushing her hands away and wiping the tearstains off your face. She huffs, grabbing your face again. She looks deep into your eyes with tears. You begin to panic, cooing at her to not cry. She sits beside you and takes your hands in hers.
“It’s not stupid, amor. You were panicking.”
“I’m a grown fucking adult, I shouldn’t feel this way,” you say with gritted teeth, wiping away frustrated tears as you stand and try to walk away from her. She’s small but defiant, grabbing your arm to make you face her. she’s got an angry look on her face that immediately disappears when she meets your eyes.
“Talk to me, amor. What’s going on, sí? I’ve never seen you like this before,” she says, pulling your body close to her. you’re just a foot taller, she tucks her face into your neck and leaves soft kisses.
The team watches from the inside with deep concern for their teammates, when suddenly everyone's phones are blowing up. Lucy opens her phone from where she’s sitting on the counter with Ona between her legs and gasps in shock. Patri had posted a New Year Instagram story and there was a brief two-second pan towards you and Aitana where she pecked your lips to calm you as her palms pressed against your ears.
“Patri, you idiot!” Alexia yells, chewing her out. There was no point in deleting it, the whole world knew that you were together.
Back outside, you and Aitana had moved to the stairs leading up to the porch to sit and talk. She held your hand in her lap, softly rubbing the back and occasionally kissing it. you leaned into her, head resting on her shoulder as you told her about your fear of fireworks.
“My cousins were being rough and not careful. Their parents told them they couldn’t play with it on New Year till my father got home but they didn’t listen. They lit one and pointed it right at me when my little brother jumped in front of one and got second-degree burns because his sweater caught on fire.”
Aitana listens carefully, eyes widened in shock when she learns the reason behind your fear. She leans in and kisses you softly, taking your hand in hers tighter.
“I wish you told me, cariño. I would have stayed home with you.”
“But you love the fireworks, I thought I could handle it; not. I’m sorry you couldn’t watch them.”
“No bebita, you were more important. Thank you for trusting me.”
"Te amo Tana, gracias por estar ahí para mí".
"Yo también te amo, mi niña.”
You two walk back inside where Alexia still hasn’t finished chewing Patri out she’s almost red in the face.
“What’s going on?” Aitana asks, gently guiding you into the kitchen where everyone is.
“Have you checked your phones, both of you?” Ona asks Alexia, taking a break and being handed a glass of water by Lucy.
“No,” you both say, pulling out your phones to see what’s all the fuss about.
“Oh fuck,” you whisper, hand going over your mouth in shock. The two-second clip of you and Aitana kissing while you were having a meltdown is going viral, already trending on X.
“Patri!” Aitana starts, already marching towards the much taller Spaniard. You stop her, grabbing her forearm. She turns around with rage in her eyes, fiercely wanting to protect your privacy more than hers. She softens when she sees the affection in your eyes, letting herself be pulled back to you.
“I don’t want to hide anymore, mi amor.”
“But bebita,” she begins, you cup her cheek and lean in to kiss her before she can finish her sentence. The whole room erupts with cheers and laughter, María capturing another picture of you two. She airdrops it to you as soon as you pull away from Aitana, Alexia already giving Patri a big hug and apologizing for yelling at her.
Back home that night, you post the picture María took and make it official. The world goes crazy, but you and Aitana knew that only the two of you mattered.
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xxsabitoxx · 1 year
Text
How to make the Pillars blush
All 18+ Pillars x Gender Unspecified Reader
Warnings: suggestive content, nothing super crazy
A/N: just some quick Headcanons cause the idea came to mind lol. I gotta really zone in on one or two of my WIPs rather than post unplanned content but…oh well here we are.
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Tomioka Giyu
Show genuine interest in what he has to say
Don't break eye contact with him
Smile at him, depending on the context, will get his cheeks rosy
Brush your hand along his thigh
Make him his favorite meal and tell him you want to see him try it
Get really close to him to whisper something
Look at him through your lashes
Compliment him out of the blue
Brush his hair for him
Suck on his neck with the intent of leaving a mark
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Kocho Shinobu
Bring her a meal while she works
Make it so she has to look up to talk to you
Hold her hand
Compliment her appearance or her personality
Kiss her cheek when others are around
Grope her breasts while she tries to sleep
When you look at her with lidded eyes, even if you're just tired. Her mind likes to wander
Jokingly asking her for a 'check up' or a 'physical exam'
Massage her thighs, can be with more intent or could just be from habit while sitting beside her
Say "I Love You" because she struggles to say it herself sometimes, often opting for different phrases
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Rengoku Kyojuro
Tell him he's handsome
Sit with him until he's done eating
Make him his favorite meal
Make a dirty joke while in public
Feel his muscles / clinging to his arms
Move closer to him to feel safer if you're in a bad situation
Whisper in his ear about the things you want him to do to you / the things you want to do to him
Place your head on his chest while you sleep
Offer to do his hair for him, getting on your tip-toes to see better even though he offered to sit
Tell him how much you love and adore him
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Uzui Tengen
Is everything a good answer? You wouldn't believe the number of things that make this 6'6 man blush
Hold his hand so he can see and feel the size difference
Offer to do his makeup, getting really close to do it
Rest your head against his shoulder
Kiss his jaw, neck, and chest
Wear his clothing
Watch him work out, don't hide the fact that you just want to see his sweaty, toned skin
Ask to bathe with him and offer to clean him
Straddle his waist while he's sitting or laying in bed, place your hands on his chest and feel his heart pick up in pace
Play with his hair, twirl it around your fingers, tug on it
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Kanroji Mitsuri
Literally just exist
Tell her she's gorgeous
Eat with her, pay for her meal
Give her gifts that are meaningful
Cuddle her, be the big spoon and don't be shy to let her try being the big spoon once in a while
Bathe with her, wash her hair for her, massage her shoulders, her back, her scalp
Tell her the things you want to do to her, tell her how badly you want to do them
Kiss her first, take the lead and don't be afraid to be a bit rough, using tongue will turn her into putty in your hands
Tell her you want her to leave a mark on you, that you want everyone to know who you're with
Say I love you, hold eye contact while you say it
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Iguro Obanai
Thank him, be patient with him
Show no fear of / acknowledging Kaburamaru
Write to him often
Tell him he doesn’t have to take off his bandages if he doesn’t want to. He appreciates your understanding
Kiss his scars, he’s hesitant at first but he finds it makes him relax
Whisper to him, lips close to his ear, body pressed to his shoulder / arm
Run your hands along his sides, hold his hips, rub circles there with your thumb
Hold his hand while at the pillar meeting, hell, try and climb the tree and sit there with him
Kiss him over his bandages
Tell him you want to give him head, he’s a sucker for it
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Shinazugawa Sanemi
Match his energy, giving him his attitude right back will have his cheeks turning red
Make dirty jokes / comments in front of others “you wanna fuck me so bad, huh?” — turn his attitude against him
Compliment his scars and his muscles
Fuss over him if he’s injured, be persistent even if he pushes away
Kiss his face scars, kiss his hand scars
Run your hand over his exposed uniform, act like you’re doing it absentmindedly 
Wear his clothing to bed / as little clothing as possible
Look him in the eye and tell him you love him, don’t look away until he says it back
Flash him some puppy eyes, pout your lip a bit, it’s impossible for him to say no when you do that
As for his opinion on what you should wear, model it for him after.
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Himejima Gyomei
Hold his hand, the size difference has him melting
Buy him small gifts, tell him it’s because they remind you of him (he’ll always cherish them)
Kiss his forehead, he’s quite tall so it’s an accomplishment if you manage to do it (usually you’ll catch him by surprise while he’s sitting)
Hug his arm when you’re sitting side by side or laying in bed. Even standing next to him, keeping him close makes him blush
Wipe his tears for him, it’s a gentle act that honestly makes him cry more but you’ll notice his cheeks have turned a shade of pink
Take care of him, being the strongest is hard work
Lay your head… or even your full body… on top of him to go to bed
Kiss his nose, it kills him every time
Compliment him, like as often as possible
Tell him how much you adore his thighs… those things could crush a bolder never mind your head
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changisworld · 2 months
Text
Feminisation with Changbin
Changbin x afab!reader
word count:1,791
18+, MDNI!! smut below the cut
©ANY translation, copy & paste, posting of my work is strictly forbidden for ANY posts/ writing i post.
third part of my 8 part masterlist of the extension of this & this headcanon of the members!!;3
Kinks & pleasures masterlist heremain masterlist here
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->SMUT WARNINGS:Subby binnie, dom reader, mommy kink, teasing, ball fondling, tit worship, BINNIE IN LINGERIE!!, use of bullet vibrator, subspace, reader calls binnie 'pretty girl' & 'baby', praise, overstimulation, use of lube, binnies cock is called a pussy, multiple orgasms
Ever since you first laid eyes on Changbin, you genuinely thought he would be a dom through in & throughout but oh how wrong you were!
There's nothing little Binnie likes more than to dress up in pretty lace bralettes & thigh high socks, but he was too scared to tell you at first, scared you would judge him, so poor baby hid it instead & he would only do it when you're not home.
He loves to buy you pretty sets of lingerie, you not knowing he partly bought them for himself too. He goes through your top drawer & likes to take them out & trying them on around his bigger frame, liking to admire himself in the mirror, sometimes going as far as to spray a tiny tiny tiny bit of your perfume on him & putting some of his favourite of your choices of blush, enhancing his already slightly tinged cheeks.
He has done this ever since he got access to your closet, not wanting to ever buy his own in case he ever got caught, but it could only go on for so long, before you did catch him you did.
Since you caught him in one of your black lacey thongs & fishnets, you had an actual conversation with him & you find out all the details of his new & biggest kink, & that's how you've both ended up in this situation.
You're sitting on the back of your legs beside Changbin on the bed, him wearing a pretty, mesh nightgown with a fluffy hem around the bottom & along the cups, his dark nipples visible through the see through fabric, pebbled.
You're rubbing on his thick cock, your hand & his cock along with his balls, coated with lube for extra sensitivity & the squelching noises are probably loud enough for the entire street row of houses to hear & Changbin's whines & whimpers are almost just as loud.
"S-so much, so much" he babbles, looking up at you with watery eyes, his thighs tensing non stop & his fingers curling into the bedsheets, not daring to reach out & touch you since you haven't told him he can.
"Aww, my sweet Binnie, so good f'me aren'cha?" you ask, your hand going at a rapid pace, twisting up & down on his cock, putting the tiniest bit of extra pressure around his tip, leaning down to blow on it, making his hips buck.
"Yes! So good for y-you" he wips back, trying his best to keep his eyes open so he can look at you & you just chuckle at his words, struggling to get them out.
You reach to the side of you & pick up the small purple bullet vibrator & you remove your hand from his throbbing dick, which makes him let out a small whine but he quickly relaxes a small bit, getting a break from the overstimulation, but of course, you are quick to get back at it.
"Spread your legs for me sweetie" you tell him as you put your hand on his thighs to help him open them anyway, not as if you needed to since he would listen to anything you say in a heart beat.
Changbin takes it upon himself to hold his legs back enough, letting you get a view of his pretty hole & you let out a hum in approval, making Changbin even more flustered.
"Is it pretty mommy?" he asks, his voice having nerves laced in throughout it. "Don't ask silly questions, my Binnie, it's thee prettiest, you ready?" you respond, using the lube that is still coated on your hand to slick up the small vibrator before aligning it up with his fluttering hole.
"Yes mama, go slow, please" he pleads & you take pity on him, the poor baby is still a bit nervous & you can tell by the resistance as you push the small vibrator inside of him, turning it on as you put it in the full way & the cry that leaves his chest is unlike anything you've ever heard come from him before, it honestly catches you by surprise & he leaks even more onto his tummy.
You stop him from jerking his hips so much by moving up to straddle him, your legs caging him in & you set your cunt, covered by your own.. your shared panties as you grind over his hard cock, the cum from a previous orgasm you pulled from him still sprayed on him.
"You're so beautiful for me, pretty girl, all dressed up for me, hmm?" you tease as you lean down & kiss him, smudging the thin layer of lip gloss you painted over his puffy lips, not that he is in any mind to care anyway, far too distracted by the strong vibrations shooting up his spine, his hips jerking into you as much as he can, whining into your lips & his hands come up to rest on your hips, but you decide to cut him the slack & let him do so.
You let your fingers reach up to pull down his little night gown's boob cups & you let them attach to his little nipples & you twist them & flick them playfully, making Changbin cry onto the tongue that's now exploring his mouth, tasting him.
"Your tits are to die for baby, wanna touch them forever" you purr as you slide down the tiniest amount & let a glob of spit land right on his nipple, teasing him the extra amount by rolling your tongue out to let it fall before curling your tongue as you let it sit back in your mouth & Changbin is in his own little world, little purrs & whines being all he is saying but his eyes are not leaving yours, trying his best to not let them roll to the back of his head because he would be stupid to let himself miss the sight in front of him.
"Mommy, fuck me, please! want you so bad" he whimpers, his teary boba eyes looking up at you, nothing but neediness in them. "You want me to play with your little pussy? Do you think my baby deserves it?" you question, pinching his now spit covered nipples as you keep grinding on his cock, your own juices coating it along with the lube from earlier.
"I've been good! Wanna c-cum with y-in you! too g-good y/nnie" he cries, his toes curling behind you & you giggle as you reach behind him to start fondling his heavy, swollen balls & he lets out a screach at the feeling & he throws his head back into the pillows as much as he can, the feeling getting too much for the poor baby.
You flip yourself around so you're facing his legs in a reverse cowgirl position as you keep grinding on hi, your panties completely soaked through & have been for a long time by this point but the fabric is still slightly scatching against binnies cock & he cannot keep still for the life of him.
You keep playing with his balls & you reach down enough to feel the very edge of the vibrator & you use your fingers to pull just enough out so you can grip it with two fingers before you start to push it in & out the best you can, watching the way his hole swallows it gladly, barely even clenching anymore, the man you're sitting on so beyond the point of being grounded, his mind blank, & you notice this.
"C-cuming, mama, Cum-ming!" he squeaks as his legs shake & his balls pulsate in your hand & his shaft jumps off his tummy, cumming all over himself. You slow down grinding on his cock after realising his body language has changed & he has gone really quiet apart from the small whimpers of overstimulation & his orgasm fading off.
"You still there binnie? You with me?" you question, pulling out the vibrator & he just responds with a whimper at the loss of contact.
"Cmon sweetie, you floating?" you half tease as you turn around again, robbing Changbin of an already second orgasm, the friction from your panties driving his cock crazy again instantly, his chubby cock not even having time to soften, he is just enjoying it so much! which you didn't even mean to do & he just lets out a small, quiet whine at the feeling.
He nods, not even opening his eyes to respond to you, he is leaking precum all over himself, the tip of his cock a darker, more red shade than you think you've ever seen it & you are honestly buzzing at the sight of him like this, you feel so proud for making him crumble for you like this.
"Wanna keep going pretty?" you ask, leaning forward to stroke & move his dampened, curly poodle hair out of his red face, the little bit of mascara you helped him apply completely smudged on his under eyes & a few streaks dried into the top parts of his cheeks.
Changbin doesn't give a verbal response again, but he nods his head again as his big arms wrap around you & pull you forward so your face is buried in his neck & he strokes your hair with one hand as he breaths heavily, his clotheless chest against yours, the contact of your skin against his nipples making his cock jump.
"I won't keep going since you're too far gone & we've not spoken about it much mkay? I'll go clean you up n cuddle with you" you say in a soft voice as you move off of him & you run to the bathroom before coming back with a damp, luke warm tea towel & you wipe the sweat off his face before cleaning all of the slightly dried lube, his orgasms & your own juices that's soaked through your underwear before giving him the cup of water you also brought through & feeding him it.
"You are so good for me, you're adorable." you say as you kiss his full cheeks before nuzzling onto his chest, not wanting to overwhelm him, despite you not being able to see him with the way you're lying, he can't help but blush even more & lightly smile at your words & affection.
->Taglist is open!->Anon list is open!
Remi posting more than once a week?? SINCE WHEN??
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shibaraki · 4 months
Text
🍉 ─ SPONSOR A WIP FOR GAZA
Hi friends!! I don't know how this will go but I wanted to participate and help contribute a little bit more to the fundraising efforts for Gaza set up by ficsforgaza. I’m taking things slower on the writing front this year so I only have a few to list, some longer than others. Even so, I hope some appeal to you and encourage you to give a donation.
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RATE: $1 per 100 words
INSTRUCTIONS: donate to a vetted fundraiser of your choosing, take a screenshot of the donation confirmation (make sure your private information is censored) and send it to me along with the title of whatever WIP you're sponsoring!
Here’s an example:
hi monty! here's proof of my donation to child mohammed and family's gofundme. I'd like this to go toward the wip 'name your courage' :) ty!! [screenshot.png showing evidence of donation states that $5 was given, therefore 500 words will be written for the wip titled 'name your courage']
Upon receiving your ask (I won't be publishing them) I will amend the list below and prioritise progressing that WIP as well as keeping this post updated weekly. Just for clarity: I’ll be submitting redacted evidence I receive to @ficsforgaza to try and ensure that people are not sending those same screenshots to different writers.
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TO AVOID BEING OVERWHELMED I HAVE MADE A DONATION WC GOAL FOR EACH WIP❗️Just to be clear—donations go towards progressing a WIP. The sole purpose of this is to encourage donations and spread awareness. Every little bit helps. Even if a fic doesn’t get completed right away I still appreciate your participation and promise to fulfil the WC goals.
🍉 ─ WIPS AVAILABLE:
↳ NAME YOUR COURAGE — BAKUGO KATSUKI #: GN AFAB reader, post canon au, quirkless discrimination, falling in love, social work, worldbuilding, angst + fluff + eventual smut
determined to reach deep inside himself and reconcile the shame that still lingers there, pro hero dynamight publicly aligns with a well-known quirkless charity organization. what he gains is greater than he could’ve imagined.
current wc: 12,932/20,000+ donated (goal) wc: 5,000/5,000 🎊 ☑️
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↳ A MANY SPLENDORED THING — KUROO TETSURO #: GN AFAB reader, divorcee kuroo, best friends to lovers, heavy mutual pining, hurt/comfort, eventual smut + romance
you wonder, not for the first time, why tetsuro could never see what was right in front of him. it was as though the compass of his sharp intuition reversed polarity when you were in the vicinity. you’ve been in love with him since you were sixteen and he’s the one person that never noticed.
current wc: 13,962/20,000+ donated (goal) wc: 5,000/5,000 🎊 ☑️
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↳ #HEARTBURN — TODOROKI SHOUTO [COLLAB FIC] #: GN reader, meet-cutes, social media + shipping, reader is a paramedic, strangers to friends to lovers, fluff + humour
who knew your run-ins with the suspiciously accident prone pro-hero shouto would capture the hearts of the general public—or that a bit of harmless flirting could have such inconvenient consequences?
current wc: 2,500/5,000 donated (goal) wc: 2,500/2,500 🎊 ☑️
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↳ EMERGENCY CONTACT — AIZAWA SHOUTA #: GN reader, friends to lovers, fluff + humour, sexual tension, reader is an underground hero, adopted eri, getting together
when aizawa gives eri a special card with a number to call if there’s ever a big emergency and no one else is around who can help, he doesn't consider the fact that her idea of an emergency is vastly different from his.
current wc: 1,600/3,000 donated (goal) wc: 2,500/2,500 🎊
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↳ THE STAG — OKKOTSU YUUTA [RETURNING WIP!] #: AFAB reader, courtesan au (no curses), courtesan yuuta, reader is a tailor, falling in (forbidden) love, fluff + angst, love letters
your hands were made to embroider, to cut fine silks and sew tales into fabric. from time to time they’ll find themselves touching a courtesans skin. it is only to measure, and never for pleasure.
current wc: 649/? donated (goal) wc: 2,000/2,000 🎊
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↳ SOMETHING BORROWED — NANAMI KENTO [EVENT WIP!] #: AFAB GN reader, no curse au, neighbours to lovers, single parent nanami, foster kids yuji + sukuna, fake engagement, pining, getting together
the precious little you know about your neighbor is that he’s handsome, unmarried, and he has two long term foster sons. after the twins panic during an inspection and identify you as nanami’s fiancé, you’re left with the opportunity to learn more. 
current wc: 10,288/? donated (goal) wc: 250/2,000 ☑️
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That’s all for now, though there is a possibility that I will add more WIPs later. And let me know if you’ve got any questions (or if I’ve missed anything lol).
It’s totally fine if you can’t donate or if none of these fics appeal to you!! Please feel free to check out the other writers on @ficsforgaza’s page if you’d rather sponsor some different fics, or even make requests to those accepting them ^_^ thank you guys!
HERE’S EVEN MORE WAYS TO HELP PALESTINE, AND DON’T FORGET YOUR DAILY CLICKS!
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terresdebrume · 2 months
Text
Work is kinda hectic rn, my knees are NOT liking how much traveling between floors I have to do, and I am missing sleep like crazy so my WIPs are staying largely untouched but I HAD to push out this concept for a maybe-someday fic in the I'm down on my knees universe
Written for the free square day of @painlandweek . Have some hurt/comfort ft Charles and how he feels about his mum. Also belatedly tagging @ghostinthelibrarywrites bc I think you'll enjoy it and I accidentally posted a thing that was meant to stay a draft again xD
Charles is sitting on the doorstep. It's almost eight PM on a weeknight, Edwin is just back from a fun-study session—which is really just Maren's way of saying she wants beer with her textbooks—tired, brain swimming with texts of law, and more than a little tipsy... And Charles Rowland is sitting on his doorstep. His building's doorstep. The difference is irrelevant.
Caught off guard, Edwin blinks, and stares at Charles.
He is curled up on the ground, spine back in that parenthesis shape it had back in school. His elbows are on his knees, hands buried into the hair at the back of his neck, his eyes closed. Edwin takes in the tension in Charles' shoulders, the way the fading sunlight catches the green vines tattooed on his left forearm, the slow, deliberate depth of movement around his ribcage, and decides against calling out to him. Instead, Edwin walks up to him until Charles can no longer ignore the footsteps, and waits for him to speak.
"Hi," Charles says, muffled, from between his elbows.
"Hi," Edwin replies, chest twisting when the last hope he had that Charles was just a bit tired evaporates like rhum from a flambé.
He steps forward again, then ignores the fresh layer of summer dust on the steps and sits down next to Charles, deliberately picking a position that makes their hips and shoulders touch. Charles leans into it immediately, turning a light contact into solid pressure, and Edwin sighs. Things could be worse.
"I did not expect you tonight," Edwin prompts, trying to make himself as gentle as he can.
Tuesday nights are when Charles and Niko's dance classes take place. Edwin has never known either of them to miss one, so Charles' presence here is one more sign that whatever is going on is not to be taken lightly. As if to confirm Edwin's suspicions, Charles sighs, and mumbles:
"I ran into my mum."
Edwin freezes. For some reason, in the few months since he and Charles reunited, it never quite clicked for him that Charles' parents, for all that Charles hasn't had any contact with them for nearly eight years now, exist in the same world they do. London is such a large, dense city, it is easy to make your life in a corner of it and never step outside its boundaries. Edwin's parents certainly treat Kensington like an insular country only worth leaving for the richer shores of Mayfair, when they deign to visit the capital at all. Just like Edwin and Charles existed less than ten minutes away from each other for months without having a clue, the possibility of him running into Mr. or Mrs. Rowland by accident did not even cross Edwin's mind. Nor Charles', from the look of things.
"That must have been a shock," Edwin says.
He does not know enough to infuse more feelings into his response. Charles, for all that he shares his smiles, his affections and the chief of his worldly possessions freely, has remained incredibly tight lipped about his past. The summary of what Edwin knows of Charles' youth is quite easy to make.
Fact the first: at the age of sixteen, not one term into his stay at St. Hilarion's School for Boys, Charles Rowland jumped into a pool full of a deadly allergy trigger to save Edwin's life.
Fact the second: for the remainder of that school year, Charles endeavoured to make Edwin's life as painless as possible. His presence remains, by far, the brightest highlight of Edwin's adolescence.
Fact the third: at the age of seventeen, or near enough, Charles ran away from what he described as a bad home situation exactly once and proceeded never to mention again. It is Edwin's understanding that Charles may have escaped with nothing but the clothes on his back that day.
Two of those facts, Edwin knows because he was a direct witness to them, and the third was only shared with him because he accidentally made it an implicit condition to renewing his acquaintance with Charles.
Charles Rowland is not an emotional sharer, and Edwin is sort of at a loss.
"Yeah," Charles mumbles after a beat. "It was a bloody shock alright."
Edwin bites on his bottom lip, resisting the urge to push his fists together.
"Would you like to talk about it?" He asks, hoping his voice conveys the appropriate mixture of care and caution.
Charles shrugs, sniffing and rubbing his face against one of his forearms. Edwin bites his lip a little harder, and cautiously raises his right hand to place it on Charles' back. He feels and sees the muscles tense, Charles arching his back like an angry cat for the half second it takes Edwin to take his hand back.
"I apologize," he says, hand hovering uselessly above Charles' shoulder blades, "I wanted—"
"Neck's fine," Charles mumbles, low enough that Edwin almost misses it.
He swallows thickly, pausing when the upstairs neighbors walk by with puzzled faces. Edwin doesn't quite glare at them but it's a near thing, and he turns back to Charles the second they're out of view.
"Alright," he says. "Neck, then."
He only touches two fingers to the nape of Charles' neck at first, trying to keep it light, but that makes Charles tense again so he changes to a more present grip, palm flat and only just brushing with the edge of Charles' hair. Charles doesn't move into it this time, but he doesn't flinch away either. Edwin feels Charles take a deep, soundless breath, like a swimmer before a dive, and braces.
"I. She asked how I was," he exhales at last, and the wind rushes out of Edwin's lungs with a punched out sound. "I haven't seen her in over seven years and she—"
Charles takes a shuddering breath, sharp and painful sounding, and his voice sounds utterly broken when he says:
"He used to beat me up, you know."
Edwin, who hadn't known but kept the possibility in his mind like a bad thorn, bites down on a sympathetic hiss and leans a little harder against Charles instead, stretching so he can lean his forehead against the back of Charles' skull.
"Charles, I'm so sorry," he murmurs, free hand grasping around until it can find the jut of Charles' left knee, and wrap his fingers around it, squeezing with as much reassurance as he can muster.
He wishes, abruptly, that he'd thought to take Charles inside before he started this talk. They both deserve better than the front step of Edwin's building, where another pair of neighbors gawks at them as they walk past. Yet, now that they're here, Edwin wouldn't cut Charles off for all the gold in the world. He fears with an intensity he didn't know he was capable of, that interrupting Charles now would send him back into his usual reserve, and Edwin knows with absolute certainty that he will go to great lengths to prevent that from happening.
"She never—every time he did it," Charles says, almost choking on the words, "she'd just stand—she didn't do anything! And now—now she—"
A long fit of coughing cuts Charles off, wracking his body and shaking Edwin's head even as he tightens his hold on Charles, as if he could make up for his childhood with how much he loves him.
"I'm so sorry," he tells Charles. "You deserved so much better."
Charles' cough subsides, melting into shuddering, soundless sobs that Edwin wants to take into his ribs and hide from the rest of the world. He straightens up and, as gently as he can, guides Charles to lean against him harder until his frame his half cradled in Edwin's arms.
"It's not bloody fair," Charles manages between sobs, gulping air like he's drowning, shaking against Edwin.
Edwin breathes in, tears crowding at the corner of his eyes, and holds Charles closer. He wishes, so desperately, that he could love him enough to erase the past and make all the pain go away.
"I love you," he says instead, recklessly, pressing a kiss into the side of Charles' hair. "I know it doesn't make anything better, but I love you."
They sit like this for a long time, Charles crying and Edwin rocking him lightly like a child, until things finally calm down enough that Charles is ready to go upstairs for tea. They drink it out of the blue mugs Monty bought when he and Edwin moved in, quietly sitting on the couch in one of those strange bubbles of relieved fragility that comes after a crisis. For a long while, they sit in silence on Edwin's couch.
Then Charles sighs, long and tired, and leans sideways until he can rest his head on Edwin's shoulder, one arm looping around his waist.
"I love you too, mate," he sighs, making Edwin freeze. "And it does make things better that you love me."
Edwin, his heart singing from Charles' declaration and bleeding from the way he meant it, nods, and drinks his tea.
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pink-onyx-au · 1 year
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Nap time! Thank you everyone for your continued support and interaction! I adore it and it adds so much more to the AU than you could know. This is a heads up on some minor down-time for the blog while I rest up and prepare the next episode.
Notes and asks are still open and encouraged during this time! Bored and want to chat? Send me a message!
To see some WIP, storyboard previews, doodles, shitposts, and other projects I’m working on, along with a healthy amount of 3am memes, head over to my trash fire blog, Ceephor’s Shit Show. The "pink onyx au" tag will filter everything for you, along with showing you fabulous fan art made by others that I just love to pieces.
Speculation and theories are encouraged! The comic is designed as close to the show’s logic as I could muster, which means many secrets are staring right at you, provided you know what to look for! Just be kind to one another.
Comic FAQ:
What is this?
Pink Onyx AU is a Steven Universe AU focused on interactions between Steven and Jasper and is intended to be read after you have finished Steven Universe Future, as it contains many many spoilers for the series. If you have watched it already, great! Welcome! The goal is to bring you a Jasper redemption arc that we couldn’t get due to time and cooperate restraints on the Crewniverse. I hope you enjoy!
I do not own these characters or their likenesses except for the single fluffy thembo fusion I created for the story. This is just a fan comic.
Comic is PG-13 for some angsty/touchy themes, minor blood, violence, and gem-cussing. Touchy-subjects will always be in a cartoon-ish metaphorical representation you would likely find on TV and be available for multiple interpretations.
When do you post?
Typically when you see this post pinned, I’m on a bit of a break, but when Nyx wakes up (this post goes away) the comic is due to be released 1 page at a time at 7am EST most days. I try for a daily release. Sometimes I skip a day if I’m behind. Episode release dates are always announced ahead of time by a few weeks.
Is this a romantic ship AU between Jasper and Steven?
Nope, more like an aunt and her nephew trying to figure it all out. No romance between these two here.
Is your Tapas updated at the same time?
Nope, tumblr comes first, and the tumblr will always have bonus content which Tapas will not. The Tapas for this updates after the tumblr version is completed. Usually same day or within a day.
Do you have a reference for Onyx? Sure do!
How do I use the ask system for this blog?
You can leave a message, or even an object, for the characters to interact with. The asks you leave can be answered by myself, Onyx, Steven or Jasper within the realm of this AU. Your asks will have no effect on the comic story. Think of it like the actors are in their dressing rooms and you get to give them a poke while they take a break! As the comic story progresses, their replies to your answers may change! Their responses will be in-character depending on where in the story we are.
My note by the den (an ask) was never answered. How come?
Lots and lots of asks come in every day. I wish I could answer them all! Since I draw something to go with most answers, especially the character ones, they do take a bit of time. Sometimes, I get duplicates of the same ask, or an ask that may refer to something that spoils the story if I answer it. I might hang onto those asks for a later time! Or group them into categories to answer all at once. I hoard asks for 1 year in an attempt to get to them. If I missed yours, know I tried and I love them anyway! I hope it does not discourage you in the future.
Curious about the characters? Check below the cut for more a detailed FAQ about the inner workings of the story. Love you all! See you soon! 🧡💕❤️
FAQ’s about the characters generated via interactive asks:
What kind of fusion is Pink Onyx? Are they good or bad? Pink Onyx is a fusion of a protagonist and an antagonist, so their alliance is yet unknown, but they have Steven’s good heart and Jasper’s loyal nature. They also have Steven and Jasper’s flaws, so they can be volatile and emotionally explosive at times, too.
What are Pink Onyx’s pronouns? Onyx likes they/them, but also answers to he/him and she/her, especially when Steven or Jasper is dominant over one another. They also seem to take on a fluid role and prefer a she/her when in a caretaker status. They dislike it/its.
What does Pink Onyx sound like? Personally, I hear them as a youthful, masculine tone. Like Steven if a little older. But I also enjoy when people say they hear them as a gruff, Amazonian-type feminine. I enjoy and endorse both.
Do Jasper and Steven enjoy being fused to one another? For now, it is a struggle, but they enjoy what the other brings to the fusion even if they won’t say it.
Does Pink Onyx need to eat and do human things? If so, do they enjoy it? They don’t need to do them, but they do feel the discomfort without them. Things like breathing, eating, and sleeping are optional for Onyx, but they will become quite irritable if not allowed to do them. They greatly enjoy sleeping and trying new foods.
What does Jasper think about having human organs when fused? She’s pretty grossed out by the idea of organic matter going into her mouth and coming out of other places. The heart beating and lungs breathing she can feel for the first time, and it is highly strange for her to experience.
What is Pink Onyx’s favorite food? They adore anything watermelon flavored and Cookie-cat ice cream products
Does Pink Onyx have any special fusion powers? They do, and as they learn about themselves, more powers seem to come out. Each of their base component appears to be enhanced in a unique way. They have Pink Diamond at their core, so the destructive potential is also there.
Why is Steven hiding Pink Onyx from others? This AU occurs directly after the events of "I Am My Monster", so Steven is very emotionally, and mentally, raw. He fears judgement for running back to Jasper, who in the past, was part of so much trauma he already endured.
Pink Onyx seems to know nothing about human culture and gem culture despite being a fusion. What’s going on? Jasper and Steven agreed to fuse, but they have yet to open up to one another about much else. The fusion exists because they agree to do so, but Jasper won’t open up about her emotions, and Steven is so sensitive yet that he is not sharing because he knows Jasper won’t want to hear it. This causes Onyx to be unable to access both of their memories easily, but they can bring it out with enough effort.
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wolfjackle-creates · 8 months
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Answer My Call Chapter 2 Part 1
What's this? Two posts for WIP Wednesday??? I said I was gonna spoil you guys. Now, I originally planned to do Carry Your Heart. Figured the top and bottom choices from the WIP Wednesday poll would be fun. But both stories are at a point where Danny is taking Jason to Frostbite and I just didn't feel like writing the same scenario twice, even if the details and POV are totally different.
So I went to the third place option.
If you want a say in what I work on this week, check out the poll!
Story Summary: Jazz, Sam, and Tucker manage to help Danny escape the GIW, but they can't follow him and are under too much surveillance to communicate with each other. Sam snuck Danny a phone as he ran and Jazz sends him a text every day, hoping to hear he is all right. But he's not the one getting the texts.
Jason was away for several months on a mission with the Outlaws. When he finally returns home, he is surprised to find dozens of messages from an unknown number begging a Danny to tell her he's okay. Looks like there's not going to be a break between missions this time around.
Chapter 1: AO3 (user locked), Tumblr
Word Count: 1.5k
-----
Jazz tapped her finger on her phone as she waited for the Dunkin employee to call out her order. Red Hood was supposed to arrive any minute. She’d left her dorm a full two hours ago and led Agents K and O on a merry chase through Boston before finally losing them at Quincy Market. Then she’d doubled back and was now near Northeastern. She had no reason to be here, so hopefully it’d take a little longer to track her down.
And that’s when she felt it—a ghost or liminal was nearby.
Pushing his way in the building was a tall man with a red beanie covering dark hair. He had on an unbuttoned flannel jacket over a Dumpty Humpty T-shirt and jeans with a backpack slung over one shoulder. He glanced around before his eyes settled on her and he grinned.
“Hey, Jazz, right?” He held out his hand. “I’m Todd.”
Jazz couldn’t say anything and just stared in horror. Red Hood couldn’t be liminal. Had she just led another liminal to the guys in white? Did he even realize he was considered an ecto-entity under the anti-ecto acts she’d introduced him and Red Robin to?
“Jazz? Are you okay?” he asked, dropping his hand.
“Order for Jazz!” called out the barista.
Jazz shook herself and grabbed her drink with a smile for the employee. Then she grabbed Todd’s elbow and dragged him over to the tables.
“Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting—” she cut herself off. She had no idea what he knew and what he didn’t. And the agents could come get them at any moment. Instead she pulled out her phone started turning off every security setting. “Never mind. Do you want anything?” she asked with a gesture at her own drink.
“I’m all right. But, are you? What happened?”
Jazz let out a laugh; if the way Todd’s eyes widened was any indication, it was a tad more hysterical that she would’ve liked. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing happened.” She looked down at his shirt. “My brother loves Dumpty Humpty, you a music fan?”
He seemed nonplussed at the topic change but shrugged. “Sure. Music is good, but I stole this shirt from one of my brothers. I don’t know if I could name a single song by them. How about you?”
Jazz grinned and forced herself to relax as she logged out of her school email on her phone. “I’m a huge fan of any sort of self-expression, including music. Actually, my plans for tonight involve music, so I hope you like the indie scene. Might be a bit intense for a first date, but I’ve always figured, why not jump right in? Show ‘em the crazy from the start and see if they can keep up.” She leaned forward over the table and winked at him. “Think you’ll be able to keep up?”
Todd played the game perfectly and looked her up and down like they really were about to start a first date. “With you, sweetheart, I’ll follow anywhere you lead.”
Jazz laughed and stood. “Come on, then. We’re going on an adventure.”
Todd grinned and joined her. “Lead the way.”
Once out of the building, Jazz led them away from the university. This being Boston, it wasn’t long before they came across a homeless man begging on the side of the street.
Wincing internally, she gripped Todd’s arm and said loudly, “Honestly, I don’t know why the cops don’t do a better job of keeping away the beggars.”
Todd looked at her in surprise. “What are you talking about? They have a right to exist and we should help them.”
“They’re probably fine. Everyone knows they only use the money they’re given on drugs and alcohol.” She pretended to glance at her phone before reaching back to shove it in her back pocket. Only to miss so it fell to the ground. “Ew, he’s looking at us. Come on, let’s cross the street.”
She could feel the way Todd tensed at her words, but he let himself be led across the street.
As soon as they were out of hearing shot, he turned to her and hissed, “What the hell was that?”
Jazz glanced back and saw the man picking up her phone. She looked away before he could catch her looking. “Come on, I’ll explain.” She grabbed Todd’s hand and led him down an alley to a much busier street. “I had to ditch my phone. I logged out of everything and left it unlocked so he can use it or resell it. I needed to make sure he wouldn’t try to return it to me and, well, what better way than being the worst person you can imagine?”
And now he was staring, open mouthed.
“They’ve had remote access to my phone for months and I couldn’t let them track us!” she insisted. Habit had her looking around for any sign of a white suit.
“Who can’t find us?”
Jazz shook her head. “The guys in white. Look, this is too public. I can’t say much else here. But meeting you, everything had to change. You’re in danger just by being near me and I refuse to be the reason you get hurt.”
“Why am I in danger?”
“Later!” Jazz hissed before wincing and looking around. She forced a smile back on her face and asked, in as normal a tone as she could manage, “What time is it? Do you know?”
He looked down at his phone. “Uh, looks like it’s almost five.”
“Oh great! Plenty of time for us to get something to eat before I bring you to our surprise destination.”
And from there, Jazz led Todd on a convoluted tour of Boston. They grabbed food at the Pru, then she took him to the green line. Where they traveled four stops before she jumped up in feigned surprise that they were on the wrong branch. So then they got off and hopped on the train going in the opposite direction.
Which was where she wanted to be going all along.
For once, she was happy the orange line was still under construction, because the shuffle of passengers from trains to buses and back just made their journey that much more complicated and harder to follow.
By the time they finally got to their stop, the sun had mostly set. The station was mostly empty and Jazz looked around for any sign of white suits or vans, but even when she didn't see any, she couldn't relax.
“Where are we going?” Todd asked for probably the dozenth time.
Jazz rolled her eyes. “We’ll be there in five minutes and then you’ll find out.”
She led him to the street, the crosswalk had lights over it, but the rest of the road was shrouded in darkness. They ran across without waiting for the walk symbol.
Once they crossed what was basically a divided highway, Jazz led them along the poorly lit and cracked sidewalk. Ahead of them they were approaching a river.
“It’s before the river,” muttered Jazz to herself. “Is this it?” She hesitated at the top of a sloping, unpaved drive that led to an industrial building that sat on the waterfront. “I think so. Apparently this building used to be a coffin factory. Cool, huh?”
“I don’t care for coffins,” was Todd’s terse reply.
Jazz flinched slightly. She knew he was death-adjacent. Should’ve known better than to mention coffins. “Right, sorry. Well, they aren’t made here anymore.” She made her way down the steep drive, Todd a step behind her.
“What is it now?”
“Apartments, I believe.”
Once at the bottom, she looked around and saw the old loading dock. Entering, she looked for the door on the left.
Only to hesitate once more. Two doors were on the left. She hadn’t heard anything about there being two doors. Taking a chance, she opened the first one.
Inside was a table where two women sat in front of a metal box. On the wall were a set of pegs already mostly filled with coats. And inside milled probably thirty or forty people.
The women smiled at Jazz. “Hi, have you two been here before?”
Jazz shook her head and pulled two twenties out of her wallet. “No. But I had a classmate come here and tell me about it. When I realized you had something going on tonight when I had a date? Figured it was a great place to come with my partner!”
She laughed. “We’re definitely unique here at the Night Cap.” She stamped their hands. “Show starts in half an hour, but feel free to mingle until then. Bathroom’s through the kitchen.”
“Thanks! We’re looking forward to tonight.”
Todd nodded his own thanks and followed Jazz into the room.
“What are we doing here?” he whispered in her ear.
“Hiding,” she whispered back. “I’ve never been here before. Never even taken this stop on the T before. When we leave here, we’ll get a motel room or something and I’ll tell you everything.”
“Is this necessary?”
“Without a doubt.”
Jazz could tell Todd didn’t fully believe her, but he dropped it. Jazz found a few people who were discussing that evening’s performers and the two of them joined the conversation.
-----
Part 2
I no longer do tag lists, but please check out the Subscription Post if you want notifications when I update.
So, I had a lot of fun with this section. The place Jazz takes Jason to? Real place. Though Night Cap isn't what the residents call it. Honestly, the real name is also impossible to google. If you don't know it exists, you would never find it (why Jazz runs from the GIW there). Out of respect for the residents of the apartment, though, I changed the name. I went to a show there and it was super weird trying to find it. Like, the directions in my email seriously said "enter the loading dock of the former coffin factory, find the door on the left, and slip the person standing there $10-20 cash. Don't touch anyone's personal belongings, please."
As we waited for the bathroom during set break, two of the residents were cooking dinner at the stove and we were chatting about how Regan was the worst.
10/10 would go again.
Anyone who has spent any time in Boston knows what I mean about the T being under construction. Annoying as hell, but it worked out for Jazz this time.
(The T is the name of the Boston train/subway system.)
The Pru refers to the Prudential building. The bottom level(s) are full of restaurants and shops (basically a high end shopping mall) and upper levels are offices. The top level is an observation deck that's open to the public, though I've never been.
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ladykailitha · 3 months
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Icarus Part 12
I've decided that since I have a fair amount of backlog on the three I've been doing WIP Wednesday for, that I'd post some of them to give me time to work on the rom-com AU more.
I recommend going back and re-reading part 11 at least before reading this one to be on the safe side.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11
The Fallen boys need a break and Robin and Chrissy meet up with Nancy.
****
Things were going really well in the studio now that they had Bob Newby as their producer and their studio was closer to home so they could live their normal lives and still be in the studio recording.
It was the happiest the band had been in awhile. Which was why Steve should have seen it coming. The dark cloud on the horizon.
Shane was late.
That wasn’t to say that it was out of the ordinary or whatever, but it was now two hours late and Spence was pissed.
“When I get my hands on his scrawny neck,” he hissed. “I’m going to kill him.”
Simon rolled his eyes. “You’re just upset because it’s means you’ll be late for your date or whatever with Nadia. He’ll be here.”
“That’s not true and you know it, Asmodeus,” Spence bit out. “This is the third time this week and yeah, so what if I have a life outside of this, but that’s not why.”
Just then Shane stumbled in. He looked like absolute shit. His clothes were disheveled, his hair was a mess, and he wore dark sunglasses. Clutched to his chest was a large coffee.
“Fuck...” he mumbled as he shambled over to the sofa. He lowered himself gently onto the thing with a stream of curses. “Sorry I’m late, but my hookup last night turned off my alarm.”
He took a long sip of his coffee and rubbed his temple. He had finished most of the coffee when he realized that no one had said a word since he arrived.
The door opened and Bob and Robin entered the room looking more than a little cross.
Shane flashed them a smile. “Uh oh, it looks like I upset both mom and dad. So I was a little late. It happens.”
“But it shouldn’t be happening,” Spence said with a scowl. “This isn’t the first time. Hell, it’s not even the first time this week.”
Shane frowned, setting his coffee on the floor between his feet. He rubbed his temples as he struggled to think back. “That can’t be right, it’s only Monday, right?”
Everyone shared concerned glances.
“Astraeus,” Steve said slowly, “it’s Thursday.”
Bob crossed his arms in front of his chest. “You were late on Sunday, Monday and today, Astraeus.”
Shane stared up at them in open shock and disbelief. “There’s no way!” He pulled out his phone and looked at the date.
“Shit.”
“What’s been going on, man?” Simon asked, concerned for the first time. He hadn’t realized how often it had been and was giving Spence shit for wanting to be with his girlfriend.
Shane shook his head. “I have money for the first time in my life. I mean proper money. My parents always had enough to make sure we got into the things we wanted; sports, drama, music, you name it, but there wasn’t a lot of money to go around after, you know? I had to pay for my college education myself and I just wanted to live a little. Spread the money around, even if I couldn’t tell them what I did for a living, they don’t really care.”
“I can see that,” Robin said. “I think we all breathing easier, regardless of our backgrounds because the money we’re getting has pretty much set us up for life if it all went to shit tomorrow, which I really wouldn’t recommend, by the way.”
Shane let out a huff of breath that wasn’t quite a laugh. “I really didn’t mean to go off like that, I’ll cut back to just the weekends. I promise.”
Robin and Bob shared a glance.
“That’s strike one, Astraeus,” Bob said, “I don’t take slackers lightly. You want me to continue to work for you guys, you’ve got to step it up.”
Shane nodded empathically. “Can we have a day off a week though? It doesn’t have to be on the weekend, but this seven days a week is really hard.”
Robin blinked at him a moment. “You guys have been coming every day?”
The band looked around at each and all gave a collective shrug.
She turned to Bob. “Is that your schedule?”
Bob’s jaw dropped and he shook his head. “I only do that if there’s a rush to get the album out, which I understood there wasn’t. I don’t how we got on working every day, but Astraeus is correct they need a day off.”
“What works best for everyone?”
The band worked out a better schedule that worked for everyone with it ending with Bob giving everyone the rest of the week off, giving them strict instructions to talk to him about those sort of things before it got to this point.
Robin clapped her hands once. “Right, now that we’ve got that settled, we’re still meeting up at Abbadon’s for dinner to discuss my meeting with Nancy. My meeting is at three and dinner is at six, so don’t be late.” She glared at Shane and he raised his hands in surrender.
“See you all then!”
****
Robin straightened her wig in her rearview mirror and added more lipstick. She wore special contacts that changed her bright blue eyes to a more common brown color. She was dressed in slim fitting white slacks with a bright pink silk blouse and a black leather aviator’s jacket. She hated wearing these clothes, they just weren’t her. At least she didn’t have to wear high heels to this thing. She would have broken an ankle for sure.
But she would sell her soul to the devil if it meant that Steve got to do what he loved. And it wasn’t as though she didn’t love her job either. But Eddie was right, she was on her last frayed nerve and that wouldn’t do her boys any good.
She slid out of her Maserati MC20 and walked up to the restaurant. The Corroded Coffin’s manager, Chrissy Cunningham was going to be there as a mediator.
Robin hadn’t told Steve this, but Chrissy knew who she was. Not the band, she didn’t know that, but she knew that Celeste Baptiste was Robin Buckley. It was just something Robin felt she needed to know before going in there with Nancy. That she personally had a stake in the game, even if it was just as Steve’s best friend.
Chrissy loved the idea of even their manager having an alter ego and it made Robin feel better about her choice to be someone else.
Robin and Chrissy kissed each other’s cheeks in greeting and Robin sat down.
“She’s not here yet?” she asked, looking at her matching watch.
Chrissy shook her head. “She’s running a little behind. One of her clients blew up the internet last night and she’s been having to play hard ball to keep it from destroying their career.”
Robin leaned in close. “Ooh, do you know who it was?”
“That’s for me to know,” Nancy said from above them, “and for you to never find out.”
Robin looked up at her and was struck on how good she looked. It was almost unfair how good she looked.
She was wearing a grey plaid blazer with the sleeves rolled up over a white button shirt and a black pencil skirt. She wore grey boots and matching sunglasses, glasses she took off with a shake of her dark curls.
Robin gulped. Nancy had been intimidating enough in high school, but now she could stare down a raging bull and come away unscathed.
“Hello, ladies,” Nancy said with a smile. “I’m sorry I was late, but I think I managed a god damn miracle and could eat an entire salad bar.”
Nancy sat down and put her phone in her purse.
“Oh are you vegan?” Chrissy asked as the waiter came up with a pitcher of water. Nancy waved him off and ordered a rosé.
“Just vegetarian,” she said with a shake of her head. “I love cheese too much. Plus, I knew a militant vegan and they scare me.”
Robin laughed. “Couldn’t be me, I went full vegan last year and haven’t looked back.”
Nancy and Chrissy both winced, but for different reasons, Nancy for her comment about militant vegans and Chrissy, well...
“I picked this place because it has the best rib eye steak on the planet,” she said with a grimace. “That’s not going to bother either of you if I order that, right?”
Nancy and Robin shared a glance and then shook their heads.
“My best friend loves steak,” Robin said, “It’s his choice to eat it, I just a have a problem with the ethical consumption of meat and other animal products.”
“Most of my clients eat meat,” Nancy agreed. “I’m not about to piss them off because I don’t like the taste.”
Chrissy relaxed and let out a long sigh. “Great!”
She picked up her menu to hide her embarrassment. A few minutes later, their waiter came back and they placed their orders.
Nancy had ordered a pasta with roasted sun dried tomatoes and mushrooms and Robin ordered a simple salad with a vinaigrette.
As they waited for their food, Nancy got down to business. “So as I understand it, the band The Fallen is looking for an agent to help with the legal and PR aspect of their brand, correct?”
Robin nodded, twisting her napkin nervously. Normally as Celeste, she was cooler under pressure but Nancy scared her. Not because of anything she could do to her specifically, but because what she could do to her boys.
Chrissy reached out and laid her hand over Robin’s fidgeting ones. Robin let out a shuddered breath.
“Normally bands like theirs have teams and teams of people doing all the work,” Robin said, “but with the secrecy surrounding their identities the more people that know the easier it is for a leak.”
Nancy nodded. “It’s certainly not the usual thing. But I’ve got a few clients that are strict about their identities and it wouldn’t be a problem, but as I told Chrissy, I would have know everything about them so that I can do my upmost to protect them.”
“Did you sign the NDA?” Robin asked, straightening her spine. This was something she was good at. Protecting her boys and she would do it with the fierceness of a mother bear and her cubs.
Nancy picked up her briefcase and opened it up. She took out a folder and handed it to Robin. Robin looked it over and then nodded.
She stuck it in her purse and pulled out a hard portfolio and slid it across to Nancy. Chrissy squeezed her hand as Nancy read through the documents. Their food arrived in the interim and she set it aside. She steepled her hands and planted her elbows on the table.
“How much of this do you know?” she asked Chrissy.
“Only what I needed to which is who Celeste is,” she replied, “and that both her and Abbadon have a history with you that could be trouble for a lot of people, not just the band.”
Nancy nodded and took a bite of her food before saying anything else. Chrissy and Robin exchanged glances but started eating as well. More for something to do in the intervening silence than because they were actually interested in food at that moment.
After a few moments Nancy blotted her lips with her napkin and set it next to her plate. “This is not what I was expecting when I heard that you had concerns about my professionalism and in all honesty, this is easier to understand then a manager thinking they don’t need the help of an agent when they really do.”
Chrissy and Robin shared a glance.
“Is that something that’s common?” Chrissy asked. Corroded Coffin had already had Nancy as their agent when she became their manager five years ago. They had outgrown their former manager Murray Bauman and was looking for someone younger to manage them so they hired her.
Nancy nodded. “It is.” She turned to Robin. “You’re his best friend, right? The quirky band chick who was always working with him?”
Robin was impressed with her way of asking the question without revealing anything significant about their identity. She brought her finger up to her contact and moved it aside to show the blue underneath before sliding it back into place.
“I’m assuming I’m the last resort?” Nancy asked after taking another bite of food.
Robin and Chrissy shared another glance.
“Not in the way you mean,” Chrissy explained. “I gave her a list of agents that might be able to have them on as clients and we’ve met with a couple of them but decided even before they got to what’s in the folder that they weren’t suitable for their needs.”
“The double lives aspect, I suspect.”
“Both of them wanted to push them into revealing themselves,” Robin said, nodding. “Which was completely off the table.”
Nancy licked her bottom lip and her eyes narrowed. “Is that off the table indefinitely or will we circle back to that sometime in the future?”
Robin rolled her eyes. “There’s no way to predict if they’re going to change their mind five-six years down the line.”
“I’m going to be frank,” she said, “I do not have a problem repping them. Not even Abbadon. But I understand there will be some awkwardness on both sides at first. I will even apologize in person. Because the fact of the matter is, I did hurt him. I strung him along until something better came along and then didn’t even have the decency to break up with him before moving on. I was young and stupid and even worse, I’m not even with that guy anymore. Like with me and Abbadon, we wanted different things.”
“Apologize first,” Chrissy said with a wicked gleam in her eye, “then we’ll see about hiring you for The Fallen.”
Nancy reached out to shake Robin’s hand. “Deal?”
Robin nodded curtly. “Deal.”
They moved onto the more tedious aspects of what they wanted out of Nancy as they finished their meals.
But as Robin was heading back to her car she had a small satisfied smile on her face. Yes, this really was the best option for the band.
****
Because of canon-Chrissy's unhealthy relationship with food, I wanted her to go hard into eating all things that her mom most likely forbade her from eating growing up. Hence the steak and the wine. Nancy I figured would be at least vegetarian with personality (just the vibes I get from her *shrug*) and Robin would absolutely be vegan. Just not a militant one.
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measuredingold · 2 months
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slow burn
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authors note: three posts in ONE month ? who am i ? 🫣 don’t get used to this lol i’m just working on wips i’ve had for months and finally got around to finishing them ! here’s a jolly piece i’ve been working on since… december i think ? lost inspo and then finished it earlier this week :) as always, enjoy and feedback is appreciated ! titled from slow burn by kacey musgraves
pairing: joakim karlsson x reader
cross-posted on ao3
word count: 4.1k
cw/tw: friends to lovers, feelings realization/confessions ( kind of ), jolly is sort of bad at feelings lol, pushy bartender makes reader uncomfy, drinking, ~kissing~, jolly is jealous lol, 18+ minors dni
"Your face is gonna get stuck like that if you don't stop."
Noah's words pull Jolly out of his thoughts, the older flickering his gaze towards his friend. Noah looks smug, lips curled slightly as his eyes glint playfully and all Jolly can do is scoff, rolling his own.
"Fuck off." The Swede mutters, gaze falling back onto you.
Noah hums, "Dude, seriously. You look like you're trying to blow that guy up with your mind."
"Maybe I am." Jolly's quick to respond, eyes cutting towards Noah again before going back to you.
He watches you laugh and he wishes he could hear it from where he's sitting, in the corner on the other side of the bar. He pretends that he does, that sweet little laugh you did when something's actually funny. He can even see the way your eyes crinkle at the sides, nose scrunching as your laughter fills the air. A scowl makes its way back to Jolly's face as he watches you and the bartender continue to chat it up.
"You know what would fix all of this?" Noah sounds closer and Jolly turns his head, seeing the boy had moved his chair closer to Jolly's, throwing his arm around the back of it. "If you just told her that you want to kiss her."
Jolly's eyes narrow. "Can you please shut the fuck up?"
"Dude." It's Noah's turn to roll his eyes. "If you just... I don't know," His arm that's not resting against Jolly's chair moves in front of him, "tell her how you feel, maybe she'd be laughing at your jokes like that."
"She laughs at my jokes." Jolly mutters, almost to himself, peeling his eyes away from his friend. He tries not to look your way, seriously, but he always seems to find you first in a crowd. You're finally walking away from the bar, carefully holding yours and Noah's drinks. "Why did you make her go up by herself? You should've gone."
"She offered!" Noah's quick to defend himself. "She literally got up before I could even stop her, I didn't make her do shit."
Jolly brings his beer up to his mouth to try and hide the smirk that's currently residing there, eyes on you as you finally make your way back to the table.
You had been one of the first people he met out in Los Angeles, through Noah of course because the guy just seemed to fucking know everyone. It's called networking, dude, he would say. Jolly scoffs at the memory before giving you a smile when you sit down, sliding Noah's drink towards him.
"There you are, my good sir." You say, putting on some kind of accent that Jolly thinks is supposed to be British, and he doesn't have the heart to tell you that it's nowhere close.
"Why thank you, m'lady." Noah responds in the same fashion, voice dipping deeper. Something inside Jolly turns when you laugh at the other boy. "Next rounds on me."
You open your mouth to argue, both of them are sure of that, and Noah holds a hand up towards you, eyes narrowing. "No arguing. Jolly just bit my fuckin' head off for making you go up there by yourself, when I didn't even do that."
Jolly groans. "I did not bite your head off."
"Don't listen to him. He was fucking vicious."
You laugh again, much louder this time, and Jolly swears his entire face flushes just from the sound alone.
"Now, why would you do that, Joakim?"
He's always loved the way his name rolled off your tongue, all sweet and soft. Almost like you were made to say it. He takes another sip of his beer, more so to try and hide the smile that's threatening to form and shrugs his shoulders.
"I didn't do anything. Noah's a fucking liar."
Another laugh pulls from you and Jolly lets himself smile now. He hears Noah scoff beside him and knows the younger boy is probably rolling his eyes, slumping back in his seat because he's too goddamn dramatic for his own good.
"Sounds like him." You say, finally picking your own drink up to take a sip. You fall back against your chair, eyes moving between both Jolly and Noah. "He's always been a liar."
"A shit one at that." Jolly remarks, and you laugh again. Pride fills his chest.
See. I make her laugh, Noah.
"I am literally still right here." Noah grumbles and Jolly finally looks at his friend and sees the small curl of his lips to indicate he wasn't actually mad about the teasing. "You're being assholes to the guy who said he'd buy your next drinks."
"My apologies, man." Jolly raises his glass in a cheer before bringing it back to his lips, taking another drink. "Remind me to be an asshole after you get us our drinks."
Noah rolls his eyes and throws up his middle finger, and Jolly tosses his head back in laughter.
The night goes off as it normally would, fucking around with each other, jamming along to whatever song is playing on the speakers around them. Every now and then Jolly would catch you looking at him, and he swore he noticed a slight twinge of color on your cheeks every time he caught you before you quickly looked away. It happens for the fourth time when Noah finally gets up to get you all another round of drinks, and this time Jolly decides to test the waters.
"What?"
Your eyes widen. "Huh?"
"You keep staring." He tries to act cool, passing it off as no big deal as his arms cross over his chest, and he tries to ignore his rapidly beating heart. "Is there something on my face?"
"No."
"Hm." He hums to himself, head tilting. "Just like looking at me?"
That catches you off guard and he grins to himself when he sees your cheeks flush, turning your head away from him to try and hide.
"You're so full of yourself, Joakim."
"Maybe... but you haven't denied it."
You face him again, the slight twinge of color still on your cheeks as your eyes meet. You smile, soft and small and it has Jolly's heart wanting to explode with... whatever it was he was feeling.
"And what if I do?"
That stuns him into silence but only for a moment, eyes never leaving yours. His lips twitch but he tries to suppress the smile that so desperately wants to stretch across his face, flicking his gaze off to the side.
"Well..." He clicks his tongue before gazing at you once again. "I don't blame you."
You raise a brow. "Hm?"
He shrugs then motions to himself. "I'm very handsome. I'm sure you're not the only one who likes to stare."
"Jesus," You roll your eyes but you're laughing, and he finally lets himself smile. "You really are full of yourself."
"Maybe I am." He reaches for his almost beer, taking one more swig of it before placing it back on the table. "But you like it."
The flush on your cheeks and the confused expression on Noah's face once he returned was very well worth it.
"What's going on here?" Noah questions, handing Jolly's beer to him.
"Nothing." You reply quickly, clearing your throat. You glance at him briefly before focusing your gaze on Noah. "Jolly being Jolly."
"That could mean many, many things." Noah sits back down, sliding your drink towards you before looking at Jolly. "What'd you do?"
Jolly shrugs but says nothing, bringing the new bottle of beer up to his lips, taking a long sip. Both you and Noah stare at him, Noah even more confused than before and your eyes narrowed playfully, causing Jolly to chuckle to himself.
"Ooo-kay." Noah drags out his words, not looking convinced one bit.
"Jesus." You sputter out after taking a sip of your drink, face scrunched up in disgust. "What the fuck did you get me, Noah?"
"A vodka redbull?"
"Are you sure?" You push your drink towards him and he takes it easily, bringing it to his lips and taking a sip.
"Holy shit." He coughs, pushing the drink away from him. "What the fuck is that?"
"That's why I'm asking you!"
"Listen. I ordered a vodka redbull. Your bartender boy is the one who made it so he's the one who fucked up. Take it up with him."
Jolly internally groans at the mention of the bartender from earlier, and rolls his eyes, bringing his beer back up to his lips and taking another long sip.
Of course he fucked it up. Not shocking at all.
"I'm going to." You grumble, staring down at the drink in front of you with extreme distaste. "I can't believe you paid for this."
"What was I supposed to do, drink it?”
"Yes." Both you and Jolly say in unison, casting each other amused glances.
"Unbelievable." Noah grumbles, slumping back against his chair. "Can’t believe you’re being mean to the guy who willingly bought you drinks.”
"You poor baby. How will you ever survive?" Noah grumbles something low under his breath, arms crossing over his chest. You snort before turning your focus on Jolly, eyes softening. "I'm gonna go get whatever the fuck this is fixed. I'll be back."
He nods, lips pressed into a straight line as he watches you walk back up to the bar. His eyes narrow when he notices the bartender find you immediately, a smug smirk sliding onto his lips. Jolly frowns as the realization dawns on him.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me." Jolly all but groans before throwing his drink back, taking another nice, long sip.
"What?" Noah's no longer pouting, looking between him and the bar. "What's going on?"
"He did this on purpose, dude." He grumbles, gaze planted on you and the overly flirty bartender. "Knew what she was drinking. Made it shitty so she'd have to come back up there and talk to him."
"Shit." Noah nods to himself, bringing his drink to his lips. “…That's kind of smart when you think about it."
Jolly shoots him a glare.
"What? I'm right!" Noah exclaims. "Fuck up a pretty girls drink so bad she has to come back up and get it fixed, meaning she has to talk to you again? That's smart!"
"And fucking weird." Jolly grumbles, moving his glare away from Noah and back up to the bar.
His fingers tighten around the glass bottle in his hands as you laugh again at something the bartender says, internally rolling his eyes. He's probably not even that funny, he thinks to himself.
He hated that he was jealous. He didn't really have any reason to be, or any right for that matter, because you were just friends. Sure, maybe Noah was right when saying he should just get over it and tell you how he felt, but he can't. Not yet, at least.
Or ever.
Pushing the thought to the back of his mind for the unforeseeable future, he watches you carefully. His fingers tighten around his bottle again when he notices the very second your body language changes at whatever bartender boy is saying to you. Your shoulders stiffen and he can see your brows furrowing, lips dipping into a frown. He definitely just said something you definitely didn't like.
"Uh oh." Noah seems to have noticed as well. "Someone is not happy."
"You think?" Jolly grumbles but his eyes never leave you, glaring at the bartender who leans over the table closer to you.
Everything inside him is telling him to get up and go to you but he keeps himself seated. You can take care of yourself, you don't need him to protect you. You've told him and the boys countless times that you can handle yourself - and you can. He can't help it, though, especially when you take a step back when the bartender tries to reach for your hand, your head shaking.
Fuck that.
He ignores Noah's warning, telling him to let you handle it because he knows you’re capable. He can already hear you calling the bartender out halfway to you but his feet move without much thought. You don't notice him at first, but the bartender does, and the way his eyes narrow at Jolly has him giving the guy a scowl right back, placing his hand on your lower back.
"Hey," He says softly, letting his presence be known. You jump but relax when you see that it's him, relief washing over your face. "Everything alright?"
"Just making her a drink, man."
"I wasn't talking to you." Jolly's response is quick and he doesn't care if he sounds rude, throwing the bartender the fakest smile he can muster before focusing back on you, arm coming up to wrap around your shoulder. "You good?"
Your eyes flick between Jolly and the bartender. "Yeah. I'm good."
"You sure?" He presses. "You didn't look too happy. Decided I should come up here and see what's up."
"Hey man-"
"I thought you were making her a drink?" Jolly tilts his head, feigning innocent curiosity. The others eyes widen, having been taken aback by his words before he frowns, reaching for your now forgotten drink. "Thanks."
"Jolly."
He thinks he's pissed you off, been a bit too rude to your bartender boy, but when he looks at you again you're fighting off a grin.
"What?"
"You're an asshole." You all but sigh out, losing the fight as your lips stretch into a grin.
He can't help but grin down at you, eyes scanning over your face to double check that you weren't upset with him before squeezing your shoulder.
"You love it."
You go to say something but stop when someone clears their throat, the bartender sliding your newly made drink towards you. Jolly lazily moves his gaze back to him, giving him the most unamused look, but his focus isn't on him.
"So, like I was saying before we got interrupted," Jolly doesn't miss the sideways glance the bartender gives him before eyes locking on you again, giving you the sleaziest grin that has Jolly cringing, "in exchange for fixing your drink, why don't you give me that number of yours?"
"Seriously?" Jolly's mouth was moving, but it was you who beat him to the punch. He looks down at you and he has to hold back a laugh as you glare at the bartender in front of you, brows furrowed in disgust. "You fucked with my drink on purpose, dude."
"Yeah, but it was to get you to talk to me again." The guy shrugs as if it's the most obvious thing and Jolly can't help but roll his eyes at him, internally groaning to himself. "Plus, I fixed the drink for free. I think I should be owed something since I didn't make you pay."
"That's fucking weird, man." Jolly finally speaks up, anger washing over him. This dude can't be fucking serious? "She doesn't owe you shit, especially because you fucked it up on purpose."
"This has nothing to do with you."
"I don't give a fuck if it has anything to do with me, you're a fucking creep-"
"Oh, fuck you, man-"
"Stop." Your voice pulls Jolly away from the bartender, casting you a glance. You give him a small, tight-lipped smile before cutting your gaze back to the other, eyes narrowing. "He's right. I don't owe you shit, and the fact that you think I do tells me everything I need to know. Thanks, but no thanks. I’m not interested.”
The guy's jaw twitches and Jolly thinks for a split second he's going to do something rash and he can't help himself from dropping his arm from your shoulder and gently pushing you back. He slips between you and the bar, two barriers to keep you away from this guy. Jolly doesn't avert his gaze from the man in front of him until the bartender sighs, eyes rolling.
"Not even worth it," Jolly swears he hears the bartender grumble under his breath before their eyes lock again. "If you're not going to take the drink, then it's probably time for you guys to leave."
Jolly's eyes narrow. "Are you seriously kicking us out because she doesn't want to give you her fucking number? That's path-"
The bartender looks like he's about to cut him off, and Jolly genuinely wishes he does because he's just dying to rip this guy a new one, but he feels your hand on his back and another presence beside him.
"Everything alright?"
Noah's presence pulls Jolly out of the angry fog that was clouding his mind, head turning to stare at his friend. His expression was hard as his eyes flicked between him, the bartender and you and the bartender's arms crossed over his chest, his angry expression faltering for just a moment.
"Nothing." You say quickly, hand reaching out to circle around Jolly's wrist now. "We were just leaving, actually."
Noah's hard expression was changed to one of confusion, looking down at you with a raised brow. "Really?"
"Yes. Let's go."
With one more glare casted towards the bartender, Jolly let you drag him out of the bar. He ignored the glances from the other people inside, not really caring that anyone saw that. He's actually glad people did and hoped someone recognized that bartender for the fucking creep he is and-
"Jolly."
Your voice catches him off guard and he blinks, staring down at you. You were outside now on the curb and he glanced to his side to find Noah tapping away on his phone, presumably ordering an uber for the three of you. He blinks again and stares down at you once more, a sigh slipping from his lips.
"What?"
"You didn't have to do that."
"Do what?"
"Don't piss me off." You gave him an unamused look, lips pressed in a straight line. "I could've handled it."
"I know." And he does. "I was just making sure you were alright. That’s what friends do.”
You pause, eyeing Jolly. He feels like his skin is on fucking fire under your gaze and does his best to look anywhere but you.
"Joakim," Your voice is soft as you step closer to him, arms crossing over your chest. "Why'd you really do that?"
“I already told you-“
“Were you jealous?”
Your question stuns him and he can only stare down at you. Of course he was jealous. What else would he be? He can’t admit that, though. He was also your friend above all else, though, and seeing that dude make you uncomfortable was the last straw for him.
“Why’d you-“
"Dude." He cuts you off, pinching the bridge of his nose. He doesn't know if it's the anger bubbling through his veins from that interaction, or maybe because Noah's words are still swirling around his mind, but his mouth moves before he thinks twice about it. "You fucking know why."
There's another long pause.
The air shifts between the two of you and Jolly can hear Noah off to the side, shuffling his feet, trying to act like he's not eavesdropping on this conversation when he so obviously is. Your eyes are still on him, he knows that much, and he spares a glance down at you. Your gaze is much softer than before, arms still crossed over your chest, and he swears he sees a hint of a smile on your lips.
"Actually, I don't fucking know why you were a dick to him. Please enlighten me."
Jolly groans. "Dude."
"Dude." You mimic his voice, the smile playing on your lips only growing more and Jolly can't stop his own from forming.
"You know why." His voice drops, much quieter than before, and he finds himself almost feeling... shy? "Don't make me say it, okay?"
Noah clears his throat from beside him, coughing out a quiet, "Say it."
Jolly shoots a glare towards his friend and Noah looks anywhere but him, turning his back to stare at the brick wall of the bar. He rolls his eyes before focusing back on you, your head tilting with a playful grin.
"I think you should take your friend's advice." You take another step closer to him, the tips of your shoes touching now. "Say it."
"I can't."
And it's true. He doesn't think he can. At least not here, with Noah beside him. He thinks it's because he doesn't want to prove the male right. He'll be damned if he boosts Noah's already inflated ego. Another part of him knows that he would rather do it with just the two of you. Privacy, not in the open on the curb of some fucking bar you got kicked out of because the bartender was a creep.
"Why not?"
"Because it's hard." He tilts his head to where Noah's standing, back still turned but most definitely listening in. "Plus, he's right there listening like a creep. Can't boost that ego of his for being right."
"And what is he right about?"
He lets out a soft sigh of your name before saying, "Don't make me say it."
"Okay." Disappointment flashes across your face and Jolly's heart drops for a split second before you speak again, "Show me, then."
"...Show you?"
"Yeah. Show me. Since you can't say it."
His eyes lock with yours, searching for some kind of answer. You can't be asking for that. If it's what Jolly's thinking. Another beat of silence passes and Jolly's eyes drop to your lips quickly before dragging back up your face, but you definitely caught him.
"Are you sure?"
It's probably a dumb thing to ask, he knows, but he can't help it. He needs to know you're sure, one hundred percent positive before he does something that will change the trajectory of your friendship forever. This time it's your eyes that drop to his lips and he definitely doesn't miss the way your tongue darts out, swiping across your bottom lip before your gaze locks with his again.
"Yes. I'm sure."
Jolly could do two things right about now. He could run, like his body is yelling at him to do. Go on like nothing happened and possibly ruin whatever it is the two of you have going on. Or he could just do it. Say fuck it, listen to his mind for once, and right now his mind is screaming about how bad he wants to fucking kiss you.
His eyes search yours one more time, and the way you're staring at him, eyes begging, has his hand reaching up to cup your cheek. Fuck it.
He hears you suck in a deep breath, hand reaching up to circle around his wrist to keep his hand there. He chuckles quietly at the feeling of your shaky fingers against his skin and he's glad to know he's not the only one nervous here before dipping his head, lips pressing to yours gently. He keeps it short and simple, not exactly wanting to kiss you the way he's been dreaming of out of this corner. He can tell you don't mind with the way your fingers tighten around his wrist, sighing softly against his lips.
He pulls back moments later and watches your eyes flutter open, a small, satisfied grin settling on your lips.
"Oh." You breathe out, biting down on your bottom lip to contain the smile beginning to form.
Jolly doesn't know what comes over him but the urge to kiss you soars, his chest warming at the thought and he finds himself leaning back in. Your lips don't connect, though, a loud honking from the street causing the two of you to jump apart.
"Ubers here." Noah's already making his way to the Uber and Jolly hears him asking for the driver's name before he finally glances his way. "Keep your hands to yourselves the entire ride, please. I don't want to be traumatized."
"Fuck you, Noah." Both you and Jolly say in unison.
You give each other a look before bursting out into laughter, especially at the not amused look Noah is giving you. He grumbles something before getting into the car and you tug at Jolly's wrist, your fingers still attached to him.
"Let's go."
The smile you give him almost knocks the breath right out of him. He lets you drag him to the car and the three of you cram into the backseat, Noah whining about how he's already squished and how unfair it is. Jolly only grins from beside you when you start to bicker with Noah, his hand coming down to rest on your thigh. You don't stop speaking but your hand does come down to his, fingers lacing with his own.
Jolly turns his head to look out the window, hiding his smile.
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Text
The Quiet One 6
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You live a quiet life, but your peace is fractured by a chaotic man.
Characters: Lloyd Hansen, short!shy!reader
Note: have a good day.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.
Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖
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“So, what do you think?” Lloyd asks as he turns to you, outstretching his arms as he gestures to the endless hangers. “All yours. You got your pick.” 
You stand just inside the door of the walk-in closet. The space would take up at least half your apartment alone. You cross your arms as you glance along the rows of coloured fabric hung from the walls, organized in a perfect ombre effect of shades. On the far wall, there are shelves full of shoes and accessories, along with a vanity in the centre. 
“I know you’re a simple gal,” he grins, “but you don’t have to be anymore. Whatever you want, ain’t no mountain high enough and all that.” 
You nod and blow out between your lips. It all still feel surreal like a nightmare. You swallow and tamp down your discomfort. You didn’t hate the life you had. Your small apartment, manageable and tame. You prefer predictability, even if some might say it’s boring. 
“Erm, I dunno,” you slowly trail over to the other side of the closet. 
“Well, you could pick some shoes first. That might inspire you,” he suggests as he approaches you, “you don’t need to be too fancy, you know, you always look nice.” 
“Mm,” you nod,” thanks that’s...” 
You let the sentence hang. This is really freaking you out. Your chest feels tight and your head is buzzing. You shudder out a breath. 
“What... what am I choosing for?” You croak. 
“I told you, jellybean,” he puts his arm around you and pulls you against his side, “it’s a surprise.”  
He reaches to grab a hanger and holds it out at arm’s length. A blush-coloured satin dress with a bit of frill at the bottom of the skirt. It’s nothing you would choose yourself. 
“Sure, that’s nice,” you say, just to appease him. What else can you do? 
“Hm,” he hums, “you don’t like it?” 
“I didn’t say...” 
“You don’t sound very excited,” he pouts as he turns to you, his hand lingering on your hip, “none of it? I got it all for you.” 
“I’ll wear it,” you sniff, “I’m sorry, I’m just... I’m... adjusting.” 
You don’t know how else to explain it.  
He pushes his lower lip out and narrows his eyes, “sure, sure, makes sense.” He drags his hand off your hip and steps back, keeping the dress up as he angles it before you, as if he’s imagining you in it. “This is gonna look so hot, baby.” 
You do your best to stay placid. It’s harder as you heart pounds furiously. You can’t even begin to guess what he has planned but with everything he’s done and said, you know exactly what his intent is.  
“You should get washed up, huh? Then get dolled up. Like I said, won’t need much of that,” he winks, “you could walk in ass-naked and I’m sure you’d stun.” 
You can’t help how your mouth slants at his remark. 
“Alright, jellybean, let’s get you in the tub,” he lays the dress over the velvet bench and spins back, startling you as he grabs both hips and jerks you towards him with a growl, “can I watch? I promise, I’ll try not to touch. Yet.” 
You clasp onto his wrists with a yelp. He curls his lips eagerly and you repress your horror. You don’t want to antagonise. You don’t want him to get any worse than he is. 
“Um, did you want... to?” You murmur. 
“Fucking of course,” he urges you against him, “the things I want to do...” he smirks, “I’m quaking in my boots.” 
He bows to smother you with a kiss. His mustache pokes at your uper lip and up your nose as he hums and slides his tongue across your lips. You squeeze your mouth tightly shut but he pokes through, nearly choking you as he invades. You press your hands to his chest as he locks you into his embrace. 
Finally, he part and you gasp for breath. He snickers as you puff against him. Your skin is crawling as you wriggle in his hold. 
“Yum,” he purrs. 
He lets his arms fall away and quickly snags your hand. You let him drag you around to the door, your feet hollow as they move without a thought. Resistance is plainly not a choice. 
He takes you back into the adjoining bedroom, the one you awoke in, and through another door way against the perpendicular wall. He steps to the side as he tugs you forward and releases you. Your take in the sleek black walls and black tub, the silver shower head in a monochrome booth, and the ebon marble veined with sparkling white. 
“I get it, it’s going to take a lot of getting used to,” he boasts, “this is our home, sweet cheeks. Remember that. You treat it like your very own... it is. Just like me, all yours.” 
You pad slowly inside, if only to keep a distance from your captor. You won’t forget what he is. He can give you all the luxurious things but you remember the days of starvation, of terror. He can’t see himself for what he is but you do. 
“Face masks, body scrub, bath bomb, shower gel, bonnet, robe,” he points at the fluffy purple robe still around you, “slippers,” he flicks his finger towards the mat beside the door, “lotions, creams, everything you can dream of. Oh damn, I can call a nail tech if you want a fresh mani--” 
“Uh, no thanks,” ball up your fists, hiding your short-trimmed nails, “that’s not... that’s okay.” 
“Only the best for you, kitty cat,” he says. 
He strides forward and you flinch out of his way. He goes to the tub and cranks it on, water splashing out from the high faucet. He flips the silver lever to put the stopper in place and backs up. 
“Voila, all for you,” he declares, “I’ll just...” he looks around and backs up to sit on the fluffy cushioned stools near the wall, “sit and watch. If you need help getting your back, I got you.” 
He wiggles his fingers and gives a lecherous grin. You withhold a shudder and face the basin, the water battering the bottom. You step forward and peer down into the shallows. You clutch the front of the robe and peek over in his direction but not at him. 
He waits, silently. You sway, squeezing the fluffy fabric as you peer back at the water. You don’t know if you can do it. Not with him right there. 
“Whatsa matter, baby, you need help?” He shifts and you jolt.  
“N-no, I just...” you look down at yourself and frown. 
“Ah, you’re shy. I totally get it,” he coos, “you don’t gotta be though. Your beautiful, so you should be proud. Show it off, honey.” He clucks and shakes his head, “you know that’s the thing these days, all you girls, you’re so insecure, but you trust me, sweet lips, you got nothing to be insecure about.” 
Your stomach flips. You feel hazy. You try to shrug it off and drop your hands to the belt of the rob. You untie it. You’re really going to do this. Why? 
Because you’re afraid? Weak? Yep. 
You shed the rob and look around. You hang it on the hook behind the door and return to the tub. It’s getting deeper and deeper. You touch the bottom of your shirt and scrunch it up in your fists. Just do it quickly and get in. He can only see so much from over there. 
You pull your shirt off, nothing underneath. You push your pants down quickly, your underwear rolling down inside. The skin feels cooler then and tingles across your naked skin as you latch onto the tub and swing yourself over the edge. You barely get a foot under you before you submerge your body in the water. 
You sit up, legs bent, stiff on the porcelain as the water continues to rise. It’s not quite at your chest yet. If you let it fill all the way, it might touch your chin. As you watch the depth climb, you don’t notice him until he closes. You slide to the back of the tub as Lloyd cranks off the faucet. 
You notice how his eyes stray to you. Your legs stay bent in front of you, blocking most of everything. You shrink down, hunching your shoulders as he searches through the ripples. He tilts his head and cracks his neck as he exhales and backs away. 
“Take your time, baby,” he purrs as he rubs his chest. 
He sits again and you lower your head. You’ve never been this bare in front of anyone, rarely even yourself. You’re just not comfortable without some short of shield around you. Your eyes tinge with the threat of tears. You feel like you’ve been hit across the face. This is real. Really real. 
Your eyes flick up and you reach for the purple scrubby on the little black shelf. You just have to get through it. That’s what you’ve always done. 
👄
You stare into the open case. You’re not entirely unfamiliar with the concept of make-up. When you were a teen, you had a phase, and you’ve been to enough job interviews to wield a mascara wand. Still, the amount seems excess. 
There’s almost every sort of product in every shade. Some sort of tap you don’t know what to do with, highlighter, and finishing spray. It’s too much. Your look is either a bare face or nothing at all. More often the former. 
You fidget with a tube of lipstick, clicking the lid up and down. This is all so strange. What are you getting ready for? And why? This isn’t your home, this isn’t your life, and yet it’s all so perfectly planned. 
“Honey bunnnnnn,” Lloyd’s timbre has you dropping the stick. He strides in, flustered, holding up two ties. He’s half dressed. A pair of red velvet pants and amber satin button up. It’s not a look you would go for. “What do ya think? Which tie? Paisley or the stripes?” 
You shrug and shake your head. 
He clicks his tongue, “genius, baby, genius. No tie. You’re right. Just the jacket.” 
Your mouth falls open and you nod, “sure, yeah.” 
You look back at the vanity and huff. Your face is untouched. You sit in your robe in the walk-in closet, mulling over your misery. Self-pity is as inescapable as these walls. 
“What’s up, cheeks?” He asks, “you need some help? I’m thinking you could give a bit more colour to lips but keep the rest very subtle.” 
He crosses the floor and hovers behind you. You stir around in the case and take out two bottles of foundation. You’ve never really used that either but the shades are pretty close. He lays the ties down on the vanity, brushing your back as he does, and pulls back to grip your shoulders. 
“I tried to guess as best I could. Don’t know much about all that but the lady in the store was a blessing,” he massages your shoulders as he talks. You’re tense as steel. “But you know, you got perfect skin so...” 
“Mm,” you put the foundation back and peruse the little shelf alongside the mirror. You reach for the moisturizer. Your skin feels raw.  
“I like it, au natural. Touch of cream, little lash...” 
“I’ll figure it out,” you grumble. He’s kind of annoying. No, he’s really annoying. All of this is annoying. 
“Right, yep, I will get out of your way,” he bends and kisses the crown of your head, “lots of time.” 
He strolls out and you scowl at the mirror. Something about him is getting to you. You’re not an angry person. You’re a nice person. You don’t go out of your way to be around others but when you are, you strive to be pleasant. Or at least, out of the way. 
You spread the cream over your face, watching your reflection as if it’s someone else. Where did he come from? Why? This is some cruel trick because you only ever wanted to mind your business. 
You cap the bottle and put the moisturizer back. You fish out a mascara stick and brush it on your lashes then find a neutral lip colour to put on. Nothing special, just like you. Hopefully he sees that soon enough. 
You pack away the case and push it to the back of the vanity. You get up and go to the velvet bench where the dress lays. He’s plucked out a few things to go with it. A gold necklace with small diamonds speckled along it and a pair of beige heels.  
You peek at the door before you untie the robe. You shiver as your fingers brush your stomach. You close your eyes as you recall how he wrapped you up in a towel after your bath. His touches were more than deliberate but his intrusive gaze made you squirm more. 
You pull on the lingerie tucked under the dress. A thong. You’ve never worn one of those, and a satin and lace bra with no padding. Even as you pull the dress up your figure, you feel like you’re on display. You reach back, bending your arm until your elbow throbs as you push the zipper up. 
“Need some help?” Lloyd’s voice makes you wince. 
You sniff, “sure.” 
You hold up the bodice as he approaches. You refuse to look back at him as he nears. He tickles along your spine with a single finger before he tugs on the zipper. He pulls it up little by little, until the fabric is snug around you. His fingertips drift down your back and he spreads his hands across your ass. You gasp. 
Before you can step away, his hands glide around and he grabs you by the hips. He pulls you against him and rocks with you. He inhales your scent from above and sighs. 
“Jellybean...” he almost sings, “are you...untouched?” 
You lock up and grab at his hands, trying to free yourself. 
“Is that why you’re so shy?” He snickers and spins you around, hands going to your waits, “I’m honoured to be your first.” 
You gape at him, horrified. His intent hasn’t been hard to guess but said aloud, it is all too imminent. 
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lenievi · 3 months
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My fave spones fics
It's spones day!, so I decided to finally publish this extremely subjective short list I wrote years ago (hence no new fics). If a link doesn't work, put it through a wayback machine.
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TOS McCoy/Spock romance, friendship, anything in between
A Man of Integrity by Jane Carnall. M. 18k. A mirror ‘verse story. Spock didn’t mind meld with McCoy, but kept him for long enough that the rest left without him. Will McCoy get back home? Written in 1989. (ao3)
Blue Under the Colourless Sky by vail-kagami (LJ). T. 4k. This. was. so. good. And melancholic. And bittersweet. And saying more would spoil it. (death is discussed)
Catharsis by babel. E. 40k+ still WIP. This is all I ever wanted from a McCoy/Spock fic. Follows season 1 of TOS. What if Spock and McCoy had an arrangement.
Coming Through in Waves by Cirth. T. 6k. “Spock dislikes doctors.” This was just lovely. A great character study from Spock’s POV. Includes room sharing and bathroom sharing. 
Deepening of the Spirit by lynndyre. G. 1k. A short fic set after the last film. Sweet and warm, finally getting together after all those years.
Distances series by berlynn_wohl. G-E. 54k. The first story is pre-slash and can be read as a standalone mission fic. A nice series spanning years. Written in 2007.
Down The Long Corridors Of Air by Thistlerose. T. 7k. This is another fic that demonstrates quite well what I like in the pairing. “A circle has no end. Spock and McCoy over the years.” Spoilers up to ST VII. Written in 2009.
Further Study Needed by J. Rosemary Moss. G. 2k. Cute pre-canon fic. McCoy tries to teach Spock how to flirt. Pre-slash. Written in 2008.
My Little Town by Phoenix. M. 8k. Post-movies. McCoy’s mother dies, and McCoy goes back to Earth to sell the old house. Spock accompanies him. A bit sad, melancholic story where the two of them finally stop avoiding what’s between them.
something bright, traveling fast by lupinely. G. 7k. “After fal-tor-pan, Spock considers existence.“ Movie-era, really lovely.
Spock of Baker Street by K. V. Wylie. M. 18k. Crossover with Doctor Who. The Guardian of Forever “kidnaps” Spock and McCoy, and throws them into late 19th century Britain. They meet a guy named Arthur, and live at Baker Street. And investigate a murder. Established relationship.
Teshuvah by K. V. Wylie. PG. 20k. A reincarnation AU - i.e. McCoy gets to relive his life again.
The Secrets of Pine Cones by K. V. Wylie. PG. 9k. Movie-era. Married Mc/S. McCoy is observing Ramadan, and this year, after many years spend together, Spock stays at home and keeps him company for the first time. A very lovely fic, written from Spock’s POV.
Through A Glass, Darkly by Jane Carnall. M. 67k. mirror ‘verse. pon farr. mind bond. Written in 1988. (on ao3: prime spones part and the mirror spones 3-parter)
AOS McCoy/Spock
This Must Be The Place by therev. M. 38k. Spock learns that Spock Prime and his Leonard McCoy were in a relationship, and... This was one of the first mc/s fics I read, and it’s still among my favourites. It also showed me that aos!mccoy/spock could work. The mood is a bit melancholic (and perhaps a bit slice-of-life-ish), it’s set post-Beyond, and it has Joanna.
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also older spones fics recs (i.e. written before the reboot)
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