#if it wasn’t obvious i love my dog. i think i love her more than she loves herself. considering I AM THE ONLY ONE LOOKING OUT

[apomaro-mellow]

King and Prince 33

Part 32

A kiss had never driven Steve so crazy. Never in his life had he ever spent so long thinking about something as simply as a kiss. But it wasn’t just one kiss, was it? For one thing, there had been several until they’d been interrupted by the children. And for another, each one had felt more meaningful than the last. More heated too. Eddie had rushed them back to the castle like he couldn’t wait to get Steve in bed.

They never did find out what the boys had been doing out so late, but maybe that was for the better. The heat of summer was getting to them all and so it was planned to have an outing at Lover’s Lake. Typically a royal going onto an outing like this meant the entire court coming along. It meant several carriages and even more servants to wait on them hand and foot.

But Steve should have known that Eddie wouldn’t put on any airs like that; that he was the type to choose only the bare essentials. So the lot of them piled up into a wagon, a couple of baskets of food, snacks, and refreshments to tithe them over until they returned to the castle.

“Why is it called Lover’s Lake anyway?”, Steve asked.

“Because legend tells of two loves who couldn’t be together, so they drowned themselves to be with each other”, Dustin said with a ghastly smile.

“That’s not the story”, Lucas argued. “Two lovers came from the lake. One made of moss, the other of water.”

“I heard two people were so in love, their passion created the lake”, Robin said.

“I was always told it was a bunch of people”, Will said. “Not just two.”

“Stories can change over time”, Eddie said from the front where he drove the horses. They got to the lake shortly after that. The surface glittered in the sunshine. And they weren’t the only ones enjoying the cool water. There were a couple of boats down the way, fishermen. Although it was clear even from a distance that they were doing so for leisure. The boys wasted no time tearing their shirts off and stripping down to their swimming shorts.

El and Max took their time, choosing instead to head off for a shady area under a tree. Steve couldn’t tell what they were doing, but it looked like serious business. Robin was already lounging with a nice, cool drink and Steve was about to join her when he saw Eddie heading for the water. He too had stripped down and Steve was struck by the fact that this was the first time he’d ever seen Eddie in a real state of undress. His chest, arms, and back were visible and they were covered in tattoos.

Most of his body seemed to be covered in black vines. They branched this way and that and at the end of each branch was something new and different. Steve was mesmerized. He didn’t realize that he was until Robin reached over with a stick and poked at his cheek.

“Sorry, I was trying to close that gaping hole in your face.”

Steve glared at her but he didn’t know what he was more perturbed by - her making fun of him or her interrupting his staring.

“I was also trying to wipe the drool off.”

“With a stick?”, Steve asked, trying to wipe his face without being obvious.

“I’m not touching your drool with my bare hands.”

Steve rolled his eyes and went back to watching Eddie as he went into the water. His skin was pale under the sunlight and Steve worried he might burn if he was out for too long. Was he like the demobeasts in that regard? He must have better tolerance, able to even be in the light at the height of summer at all while the others hibernated in dark caves.

He watched as Eddie dipped below the surface and then came back up, his hair draped over his face. He used his hands to brush it back and damn, Steve might actually be drooling now. 

“He’s…”, Steve trailed off, not having the words.

“I can’t believe our king has reduced you to speechlessness. In a good way”, Robin said. She looked up to view Eddie and only saw a wet dog where Steve saw beauty and power.

Finally, Steve couldn’t take it anymore and he prepared to take to the water. Will was distracting Mike when Lucas dunked him in the lake. Immediately after, Dustin breached to knock Lucas off balance. Eddie was wading at a distance, making sure they didn’t get too wild, when he noticed Steve stepping in from the shore.

Immediately, Eddie’s mouth got dry, watching Steve enter like something from his dreams. He didn’t wade through the water so much as the lake caressed his body. Before he knew it, he was moving towards the prince.

“Hey there”, Steve smiled.

“Hello, little prince”, Eddie smiled right back as they got nearly chest to chest. 

Steve’s hands found his under the water and Eddie brought them up out of it to kiss both sets of knuckles. For a moment, the screeching of children at play were distant. They didn’t even notice El and Max diving in with a splash. All they could see were each other’s eyes and the droplets of water shining on them both. 

“Can I tell you something?”, Steve whispered in the small space between them.

“Anything, always”, Eddie’s voice was soft, not wanting to break the moment.

“I’m still thinking about our kiss, from that night.”

“As if I could ever forget. My dreams are sewn with the sweetness of you. It permeates my every thought. If I could go without breathing, I would, just to keep your lips on mine.”

“You don’t know what your words do to me”, Steve ducked his head. “When you talk it’s like…it’s as if you take my words away from me just to return them.”

Eddie’s hand came up to grip the back of his neck, “If that is the truth, then I should give them all back. For I am no thief.”

Their foreheads came together and Steve blinked, taking just a second to savor him. And also to glance around and remind himself of their surroundings.

“What are you thinking about, my joy?”

“I am thinking of the fact that we must have eyes on us.”

“Then let them bear witness to our affections.”

“Hey! We can and will douse you with water!”, Mike reminded from afar.

Eddie snickered, letting his hands move up from Steve’s neck to further up into his scalp. “Sounds like they’re warning us off.”

“It sounds to me like they’re itching to splash us anyway. So it wouldn’t make a different whether you kissed me or not.”

Eddie’s eyes got bright. “Oh it makes a difference to me.”

When they kissed this time, they knew it would only be a second before they were interrupted and sure enough, water hit the side of Eddie’s face, getting Steve in the crossfire. It was still one of the sweetest kisses Steve had ever received. He and Eddie retreated to the shore, where those tattoos were brought to his attention again.

“That’s quite the mural”, Steve said, looking them over again. He could see a paintbrush, a sword, a book, and several other things that almost seemed like charms on his body. 

“Each one is for someone in my life”, Eddie admitted. 

Steve looked over all that he could see, wondering who was who. And also wondering how long until he found a space on Eddie’s skin and what he would be illustrated as. They returned to the castle hours later, children hanging on by a thread and ready to collapse from swimming all day. Steve was right alongside them, eyelids getting heavy. Eddie took it upon himself to carry Steve up to his room, even laying him in his bed.

He left the prince with just a kiss on the forehead and then the door separated them as he stood in the hall. He gave a heavy sigh and leaned heavily against the door, which was how Jeff found him.

“How goes the courtship?”, his friend asked.

Eddie gave him a long look. “I have to marry him before the year’s end.”

Part 34 coming soon

Taglist CLOSED

@thesuninyaface @only-evanescent  @snakeorsquid  @ignoremyworld  @theclichefortunecookie 

@goodolefashionedloverboi  @just-a-tiny-void  @0body0disphoria0  @cinnamon-mushroomabomination  @samsoble 

@jamieweasley13  @y4r3luv  @xtkxkrzrizir  @un-knownperson  @greekgeek24 

@justdrugsformethanks  @potato-of-the-lord  @notaqueenakhaleesi  @swimmingbirdrunningrock  @queenie-ofthe-void 

@nebulainajar  @lil-gremlin-things  @nicememerino  @robininblue  @hornedqueenofhell 

@anne-bennett-cosplayer  @moomkin77  @here4thetrama  @bookworm0690  @autumncrocusandladybug

@lil-gremlin-things @littlebluejane @puppy-steve

[fingertipsmp3]

Non-exhaustive list of things I’ve called my dog today:

-Mabel (her name)

-Mabes

-Mabesie

-Pup-pup

-Baby

-Babygirl

-Stinky

-Girlie

-Maybelline

-A crackhead

[corroded-hellfire]

Throwing a fluffy idea out there: Eddie volunteering (possibly for community service after getting busted for something silly) at a pet shelter. The kittens trying to play with his hair, him rough housing with the dogs to help get them some playtime and exercise.

Eddie loves animals and no one can change my mind. All I want is to see him with these fuzzy little babies 🥺

Words: 3.1k

Hopper was a good guy. He knew deep down Eddie was a good kid and that if he was the worst criminal that Hawkins had, things were going all right. But that didn’t mean that the chief of police wouldn’t lay down the law once in a while with the small-time drug dealer. 

Eddie had gotten the choice between a few nights in the tiny town jail or volunteering at a pre-approved Hawkins business. Not wanting to spend time behind bars, Eddie grumbled as he took a look at the list of volunteer options. Spending any time at a medical facility was an automatic no and Eddie wasn’t sure how picking up trash would keep him away from drugs when all he’d want is to smoke a joint after the arduous task. 

The Hawkins Animal Shelter immediately seemed appealing, though. Growing up, Eddie had always wanted a dog, but his dad couldn’t afford to own one and Wayne is allergic. Thinking of spending time with the dogs and cats that didn’t have families of their own brought a smile to his face. Maybe part of it was that he didn’t have a stable home life before coming to live with his uncle, so he could relate to the sweet, innocent animals. 

His first day on the job, Eddie jumps out of his van and tosses his leather jacket on the passenger’s seat so it won’t get covered in fur or drool. The gravel crunches beneath his boots as he heads towards the front door. Barking can be heard before he even grips the dull copper doorknob. 

There’s an older woman seated behind a desk as soon as he walks in, who looks up at him over the rim over her tortoiseshell glasses.

“Munson?” Her voice is deep and raspy, the pack of cigarettes sitting in front of her the obvious culprit.

“Uh, yeah,” Eddie says.

The woman nods her head to a yellow door covered in scratches—mostly on the bottom half. “In there. The girl will show you what to do.”

The girl. Eddie doesn’t even know who she is, but he’s offended on her behalf by being referred to in that way. Giving the woman a quick nod, Eddie heads over and through the door, eager to be out of her presence. 

The sound of dogs barking and yipping is even louder in the back hallway, and now it’s joined by the high-pitched meowing of cats. It brings a smile to Eddie’s face as he shoves his hands into his jean pockets. He turns a corner and sees a girl bending over into one of the dog’s kennels. As excited as he is to see the animals he’s going to be spending time with, he admires the view of the nice ass in front of him first. A particularly loud woof from a Pomeranian has the girl standing up straight and Eddie is quick to avert his eyes, hoping he can keep up the facade of being a gentleman for more than five minutes.

“Oh! Hi, Eddie.”

At the sound of his name, Eddie looks back towards you. A smile breaks out on his face as he recognizes you from school. The two of you never really spoke before, but he couldn’t deny that he’d always thought you were very pretty. 

“Hey! I didn’t know you worked here,” he says.

“Nope, just volunteer,” you say as you wipe your hands off on the thighs of your jeans. 

“And I bet you weren’t even threatened with jail time,” Eddie says with a playful smirk. You giggle and it makes Eddie’s stomach flip in a way that’s unfamiliar to him.

“Let me guess, Brenda sent you back here with a huff?” A dog clamors for your attention in a kennel to your right and you reach in to scratch behind the chocolate lab’s ear. 

“I assume so,” Eddie says with a shrug. “She didn’t bother introducing herself before ushering me along, saying you would tell me what to do.”

“Hmm,” you hum, narrowing your eyes as if inspecting him. “Can anyone really tell Eddie Munson what to do?”

This makes him laugh and it scares a skittish poodle to his left.

“Aw, I’m sorry, pal.” Eddie crouches down and holds his knuckles up to the kennel door to let the white, fluffy dog give him a sniff. 

“That’s Stella,” you tell him. “Her brother Bruno is on the pillow back there asleep.”

Eddie’s eyes roam over to the dark gray poodle snoozing away in the back corner. He looks like he doesn’t have a care in the world and Eddie envies that. 

“Do you know all the animals’ names here?” Eddie asks as he stands back up.

“Sometimes it’s hard to keep track because they come and go, but yeah, I think so,” you say. “Hmm, okay, I was just about to go change the kitty litter. Want to come along and distract the kittens? You wouldn’t believe how much they get in the way.”

“Sure,” Eddie agrees as he follows you down the hallway. As soon as you open the door to where the cats are kept, a cacophony of meowing floods his ears. There are different volumes and different pitches blending together to create a song of cat chaos. Eddie realizes he must be staring when he hears a soft giggle coming from your direction. Ducking his head, he clears his throat and turns towards you. “What should I do, boss?”

“Well,” you say as you walk over to a few of the cubbies the cats are residing in, “I’ll let a few out at a time, you distract them with the toys or maybe even some treats and I’ll clean their boxes. Then we try to corral them back in and start over again. Ready?”

There’s an array of cat toys on the far side of the small room. Fuzzy mice, balls that jingle, some with feathers, and a few cat wands. Eddie grabs a bag of cat treats off the shelf–which means every little eyeball in that room is on him–and settles himself on the floor next to the toys.

“Ready.”

The first batch you let out consists of five cats–ones that you know for a fact get along, you inform him. There’s a calico named Turtle, an orange and white one named Eric, an all-white called Kissy with the bluest eyes Eddie’s ever seen, and two small kittens. They’re both tabby cats with stripes, but one is grey with black stripes and the other is a soft orange with darker stripes; named Pepper and Chili respectively. Unsurprisingly, the kittens are the first ones intrigued by their new visitor. Tiny paws pad over the linoleum floor until they’re both standing right in front of Eddie. Now that they’re this close though, they get a bit shy. Their eyes are so big for their little heads, Eddie thinks, and he can’t help but chuckle at how cute they are. Chili decides to be the brave one and takes on the scary task of crawling up Eddie’s leg. 

“Jesus,” Eddie winces as sharp little claws dig through the material of his jeans and prick at his skin. You pop your head out from one of the kennels and give him a sympathetic look.

“Yeah. I don’t know why but kittens’ claws are sharper than adult cats,” you tell him.

“God, you’re lucky you’re so cute,” Eddie tells Chili as the little furball stops to sit on Eddie’s thigh. As if seeing that his brother is safe, Pepper jumps up and follows the trail the ginger cat had led. “Ah, both. Great.” His words are joking, but the way he grits his teeth as Pepper’s claws do their little pricks of damage is very real. 

Turtle makes her way over and begins to chew on the top corner of the treat bag. Kissy immediately wants Eddie to pet her, and Eric is content to sit about a foot away and watch the others interact with the human on the floor. 

You peek over your shoulder as you empty the dirty litter into the garbage can beside you, and smile when you see Pepper standing on Eddie’s lap with her two front paws pressed right over his heart. Her tiny head bobs as she inspects Eddie’s face, little pink nose twitching as it works. 

Chili has to outdo his sister and jumps right up to Eddie’s shoulder, as if he were a pirate and Chili is his trusty parrot. The ginger cat noses at Eddie’s curls before deciding to take a taste. He opens his mouth and Eddie is glad that hair doesn’t have nerve endings when Chili sinks those little needles that he calls teeth into the strand. 

By the time you get finished cleaning out the litter and refilling the food and water, Pepper is up on Eddie’s other shoulder, chewing on hair on that side of his head. Kissy is curled up in Eddie’s lap, purring contentedly as she snoozes. Turtle is still trying to figure out how to get into the treat bag, and Eric decides he can trust Eddie enough to rest his head on Eddie’s ankle. 

“Well, don’t you all look comfy,” you say as you stroll over to them. 

“Cats have no boundaries,” Eddie says with a smile.

“Not a one,” you agree.

Eventually, you get them all back in their cubby condos and are able to move on to clean the other cat’s areas.

When you get to the last one, you open the cage door and reach in. Eddie watches as you pull out an older gray and brown cat and hug it to your chest.

“How are you, Perry?” you ask before planting a kiss right between the cat’s ears. You turn towards Eddie so he can get a better view of the large feline. “This is Perry. He’s the oldest cat here and an absolute sweetheart. I would’ve brought him home with me a long time ago if my sister wasn’t allergic.”

“Hi, Perry,” Eddie says, walking closer to the two of you. He holds his fingers up and Perry gives them a quick sniff. The cat ducks his head and Eddie takes the hint, scratching wherever his hand is guided along the soft fur.

“Wow,” you say softly. “I’ve never seen Perry let anyone pet him that quickly. He can be a grumpy old man when he doesn’t know someone.”

“I live with a grumpy old man,” Eddie says with a shrug. “Guess I just know how to deal with them.”

“Do you want to hold him while I clean?” you offer. 

“Sure.”

You hand the cat over and Perry quickly adjusts to being in Eddie’s arms. It’s another thing that surprises you. Perry isn’t usually a fan of being held—unless it’s by you. But the tabby seems quite content in Eddie’s arms. 

Since the last cage is the easiest to clean, you finish up with the cat room in no time.

“What now?” Eddie asks. 

A look down at your watch lets you know.

“Time for the first group of dogs to go outside.” You nod for Eddie to follow you in the direction of the dogs’ section. “We do it in groups since there’s so many of them. This way they can all get some attention and there’s less likely to be any issues or fighting.”

It’s not surprising to you that Eddie is a complete natural with the dogs when you get outside. He’s on the grass with them, rough housing, he plays fetch, and even runs laps around the yard with a few who just need to burn off their extra energy. The dogs all take to him so naturally—even the shy ones. It’s impossible not to smile as you watch the canines play with this golden retriever of a man. 

By the time the two of you bring the last round of dogs back inside, Eddie’s cheeks are rosy from exertion, his breathing is somewhat labored, and he has patches of dirt on him almost from head to toe. 

“Come here,” you say with a chuckle once you’ve snapped the last lock shut. 

There’s a battered door at the other end of the hall, and Eddie follows you over towards it. You jiggle the rusty doorknob and step into the small bathroom. There are a few stacks of towels lined up on the counter and you pull a teal one off the top of a pile. 

The scent of lemons fills the small space as you pump some hand soap onto the towel and wring it out with some water. 

You turn back to Eddie and motion for him to drop his chin. He does, and you push a few strands of curls back to wipe at the dirt on the left cheek and jawline.

“How’d you get this?” you ask with a chuckle.

“No idea,” he replies with a small huff of laughter. “I think it was when Yogi and I both dove for that tennis ball.”

The memory of Eddie and the chocolate lab both going for the toy brings a smile to your face as you clean off what you can of the dirt. 

“He’s a good boy,” you say. 

“What about me?” Eddie asks with a mischievous glint in his eye. 

You laugh and toss the dirty towel in the laundry bin. 

“Yes, Eddie,” you tell him. “You were a good boy, too.”

Even though he’s the one who brought it up, he feels his face get warm.

“So, I’m actually headed out early today,” you say as you wipe your hands off on the sides of your jeans. “But I’m sure Brenda will let you know what you can do next.” It’s hard to keep the playful smirk off your face at the mention of the cantankerous receptionist.

Eddie drops his jaw and stares at you with mock annoyance.

“Playing hooky and leaving me with someone who makes Ms. O’Donnell look like a ray of sunshine? How dare you?”

You chuckle and shake your head.

“I mean, if you want to go get my cavity filled for me, I wouldn’t complain,” you say with a shrug.

Eddie winces, fighting off the urge to run his tongue over his teeth.

“Oof, okay. That’s a good excuse, I guess,” Eddie says. 

“I’m so glad you approve,” you tease. “Are you coming back tomorrow?”

“Sure am.”

Honestly, Eddie has no idea if he’s scheduled to come in tomorrow or not, but he hardly doubts anyone would complain if he showed up for extra volunteering. 

“I’ll see you then.”

You give him one last smile before heading to grab your bag from the back room.

The next day, all the cats and kittens meow at you the moment you step foot into their room. 

“Hello, babies,” you greet them. “How’s my man Perry doin—” Your face falls when you see Perry’s usual crate empty of the senior cat. 

Despite the cries of protest, you back out of the cat room and hastily make your way to Brenda’s desk.

“Where’s Perry?” you ask without preamble.

“Got adopted,” Brenda responds, not looking up from the old issue of People Magazine she’s flipping through. 

“Oh.” You swallow and nod your head. “Good for him.” I didn’t get to say goodbye. 

A few tears fall as you head back to the cats and begin your daily cleaning routine. You are genuinely happy that Perry has found a home. Cats of his age don’t belong in a shelter, they belong with a family. Well, all cats do, but it’s especially harder for seniors. It’s the fact that you didn’t get to give him one more scratch between his ears or kiss the back of his head one last time that is upsetting you. He was so much a part of your daily life that it already feels empty in the shelter without him.

“Hey.”

Eddie’s voice startles you, causing you to jump and hit the back of your head on the roof of Chili and Pepper’s cubby. 

“Ow.” You wince and step back, bringing your hand up to hold the sore spot.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry!” Eddie says, eyes wide. “I didn’t mean to scare you—hey, are you okay?” Eddie frowns in concern when he sees the tear tracks running down your cheeks. 

“Huh? Oh yeah,” you say before wiping off your face with the sleeve of your shirt. “I’m fine. Just found out that Perry got adopted and I’m bummed I didn’t get to say goodbye to him.”

“Oh.” The smile forming on Eddie’s pretty face doesn’t hold the tone of sympathy that you were expecting. He clears his throat and brings his hand up to scratch at the back of his neck. “Well, um, actually, I’m the one who adopted him.”

Either your ears or brain are having a hard time grasping what Eddie just said, so it takes a few moments before it finally clicks.

“You? You adopted Perry?”

“Yeah.” There’s a prideful grin on Eddie’s face and it makes your heart rate pick up. “After you left yesterday, I went to say goodbye to him, and he kept pawing at me through the bars of the crate. I let him out and he wanted me to hold him. I kinda fell in love with him right then and there.”

Tears flood your eyes once more, but this time for an entirely different reason. 

“Oh, Eddie.” You chuckle and wipe at your misty eyes. “That makes me so happy. Perry deserves a good family, and I couldn’t have picked a better one. Thank you.”

“You can come by whenever you want to see him,” Eddie says, a nervous warble in his voice. He clears his throat and tries again. “I’m sure, uh, he’d love to see you more.”

A shy smile graces your features as you reply, “I’d like that, too.”

“So, no more tears,” Eddie says, stepping forward and using his thumb to gently erase any remains of your waterworks. 

“No more tears,” you agree, taking a deep breath. 

Before you can let the thought linger and overthink it, you lean forward and wrap your arms around Eddie’s neck, hugging his body close to yours. He tentatively wraps his arms around your body before holding you just as tightly as you’re holding him. 

Reluctantly, you pull away and take a step backward.

“So, what do you say?” you ask. “Should we get to work?”

Eddie drops into a bow and makes a grand sweeping gesture towards the cat cubbies. 

“Let’s do it.”

[julia4today]

can you do like hobie x reader but miguel is readers father and he finds out that reader is dating hobie

yes. for this though we will have to kind of work around gabriella. we’ll just say she exists and is your older sister || i’m not really sure what ages i should use so i’ll leave that ambiguous.

——

mahogany fluff —- oneshot

(hobie x spanish speaking!reader) —— fem prns

avoidance. a skill you need to learn if you are going to sneak around and evade your parent. especially if that parent is 6’9 and 110% muscle.

————

your origin story with hobie is one that’s messy at best. especially considering the obvious blockade that was your father. him being overprotective and also hobie’s boss are two things that one never wants paired together. yet, love is one thing that can overcome. — i’m just kidding, there wasn’t a powerful we love each other moment, mostly just a lot of laughing.

it was mid july and your father was just as engrossed with work as always. you wanted to spend time together, have fun. he said he would love to but honestly you didnt think it would happen. you began to go to headquarters yourself and drag him from work. like, literally drag him.

this obviously garnered lots of attention, for one, who is this girl yelling at boss? a certain spider also happened to catch wind of the girl. he would join the crowd, laughing, cheering mildly aswell.

“dijiste que vendrías a cenar conmigo y con gabi . ¿y dónde te encuentro? ¡no en la cena! ¡hicimos empanadas, imbécil!”

“¡lo siento, mi princesa! i promise i didn’t mean to miss dinner.”

“yeah well you did, no empanadas for you. we’ll feed them to chester instead.” you say, turning around and walking away. leaving miguel to bask in the shame. you giggled at the thought of your dog getting more empanadas than your own father.

while miguel was busy being questioned about the strange girl who just walked up in here, hobie walks off to go talk to her.

“man you are an ace! that was barmy. who are you?” hobie leads with a compliment, genuinely impressed and a little refreshed at your presence, how not scared you were to yell at miguel. “a new spider recruit?”

you stop, rolling your eyes a little, still fuming at your dad. turning to greet the voice your mood immediately switches. his smooth accent and his sharp features should’ve made you a puddle right there. “n-no i’m not a spider recruit. i’m that pendejo’s daughter.”

“na shot,”

“don’t get your knickers in a twist,” you say mildly mocking his thick cockney.

“how d’you know?”

“i watch a lot television.” a laugh coming from both of you meld together.

“i’m just amazed at how you stood to the boss like tha’,”

“it’s a lot easier when the boss comes home and watches the soaps with you. what’s your name mysterious spider who’s following me home?”

“hobie, hobie brown. you’re a cheeky one, can’t believe you come from ‘im.”

“no, i’m y/n.” he laughs at your stupid joke, making your face heat up.

“i’d be chuffed to hang out with you sometime y/n. maybe visit my earth?”

“papá no me deja ir a diferentes tierras,” you shrug. “says it’s too dangerous.”

hobie nods, pretending he knows what’s you said. “atleast let me get to know you. ya like ackee?”

“mhm,” you say, a little suspicious but also mildly intrigued.

“‘ow bout tomorrow you come ‘ere n i’ll take you to some real jamaican food.”

“alright hobie, i’ll play.” you giggle and continue to your car.

he smiles waving. knowing what he’s getting himself into.

————

sorry no part 2! i’m really sorry to those who are disappointed by this :(

[misskattylashes]

The Ballad of Miles Peter Kane

I’m writing this because 80% of the speculation in the AM/TLSP/MK fandom is about Alex – ‘he shags groupies, he’s gay, he’s bi, he’s autistic, he’s an arrogant bastard’....the list is endless. Because he is our master of deception and subterfuge, he opens himself up to speculation.

But on the surface Miles is so different. Happy, smiley, seemingly open Miles, sharing his home and his dog and his family on social media. Chatting away in interviews like a little bird. People think he has it together.

But dig a little deeper and read between the lines, and I get a completely different picture of Miles from the Rascal of 2008 to our One Man Band of 2024.

I have been watching some early interviews with Miles recently and he shoehorns the topic of women and girls into them far more often than Alex ever has. A simple question about if he likes meat is met with a ‘not in a gay way’. At a time when Alex was being photographed looking like Alexa’s little brother or Arielle’s hot gay pal, Miles was being ‘papped’ with his tongue down the throat of the latest hot model or Page Three Girl. There was a sexy girl in every video. And before you say it, yes there were in AM’s videos, but find me one where Alex interacts with them. There was also Miles’ relationship with Suki Waterhouse which I find hard to believe wasn’t real, unless he is far better than Alex at faking a relationship.

Controversial as this may be, but in my opinion, early videos of baby Al flirting openly with Andy, and pressing himself up against Miles, and a bit later on, even AM Alex flirting with that hunky male interviewer, does not point to someone battling too much with their inner homophobia. I think Alex – as ever – has two personalities. The Alex known to the inner circle is out and has been for many years. But Mr Schwartz - the public facing Alex, struggles with his sexuality and the effect it will have on his career and that of his three ‘brothers’.

But read between the lines of their lyrics from the AM/Don’t Forget Who You Are era. AM is filled with longing, of someone who doesn’t know where they stand with this secret - keeping lover who treats them differently at night than during the day. DFWYA is still full of ‘she’ and ‘her’ songs, although ironically the lyrics to Out of Control are so Milex coded it’s funny. I will always maintain Give Up is about Alex (I think ‘stand so tall’ is a figure of speech rather than literally lol) lyrics like ‘you’re pretty good looking but I’m looking for a way out’ and ‘stop tainting my soul’ scream Alex. Don’t forget both albums will have been written around the same time, so I am guessing that they were going through the conflict of Miles not knowing what to do, and him somehow blaming Alex for his confusion, but at the same time unable to keep away from him.

So we reach 2015 and the recording of EYCTE. Something happens. Once on stage and once in an interview, Alex talks about them falling in love whist recording the album. Traditionalists will choose to think he means with their ‘girlfriends’ at the time, but once on tour it is obvious there has been a change in the dynamics. Alex is coquettish and sexy, but his stage personas have all been a variation on this since Humbug, but Miles is different. Miles can’t keep his hands off Alex, Miles follows Alex around the stage like a lovesick puppy. In interviews gone are the playful lusty looks of TAOTU era, instead Miles gazes at Alex like he’s the most beautiful and wondrous thing he’s ever seen.

I think Miles had finally seen the light and realised he was in love with his best mate/casual fuck buddy. He could no longer go on treating Alex like some dirty little secret, and he could no longer deny his sexuality.

What happened afterwards? Who knows, I guess they’re the only ones who know the full truth. But they both came out of EYCTE depressed (the two interviews recently posted on here show this), but Miles admitted to having a mental breakdown, and all I can do is speculate why I think this happened. Imagine being a young man fighting inner demons about your sexuality, you finally realise you’re in love with your best friend and promises are made (see Someone to Rely On and Wrong Side of Life) and he leaves you to go off to France to record an album and keep up his ‘relationship’ with his girlfriend. You have laid yourself on the line and taken a huge step for him and he's gone.

In Alex’s defence, he probably had years of Miles letting him down and also the responsibility of AM etc, but this isn’t about Alex.

But time is a great healer and I think Miles came out of the whole period a different person. By Change the Show, we lose the ‘she’ pronouns (just one ‘girl’, and Suzie and Caroline) and sexy girls in videos. Gone are the models and page three girls. There is a brief ‘romance’ with Nadya Duke, but that is it.

So we come to One Man Band. Apart from one ridiculous tongue in cheek podcast with his friend James Buckley, where he goes on about women (incidentally just before the Ireland gigs with AM), Miles has changed. In early interviews, his childhood heroes are Lennon and Oasis…no mention of Baggio. With One Man Band we suddenly get Baggio and in interviews he talks of how eight year old Miles thought Baggio and the Italian football team were sexy. Old Miles would have followed that up with something like ‘the sort of sexy that pulled birds’, but there was nothing like that, instead he was admitting that part of his sexual awakening was admiring Italian men.

The video for The Wonder had a sexy woman, his friend Didem, but somehow the dynamic felt different, the general vibe was more two mates mucking about.

His stage persona is more ‘fruity’, he is using ‘she’ pronouns but to address himself, and whilst he isn’t ‘out’ - he may never come out publicly, it is entirely his choice - there is definitely a change in Miles, he seems more settled and happy in his own skin. He said he had therapy during the bad period and hopefully that helped. Interestingly he has posted songs about difficult relationships with fathers, and without casting aspersions on Miles’ dad, I wonder if part of his earlier issues were about him trying to please him. Liverpool has quite a macho culture – especially 20-30 years ago. Let’s not forget Miles liked and commented on that beautiful poem about men who know they are gay even when they are children. Maybe it resonated….

Miles story is a fascinating one, a look at a young man fighting his inner demons to get to a point where he knows his true self. I always think Troubled Son is the counter to Body Paint. But Troubled Son is about Miles coming to terms with who he is and accepting his own faults, Body Paint is Alex keeping on his costume, which he doesn’t look like taking off any time soon. Hopefully private Alex is as happy as Miles, and it’s just that public face that looks as though their world is ending.

[mugloversonly]

When I Grow Up

This is for the Steddie Holiday Drabble Popup Event. @steddieholidaydrabbles

Rating: G; WC:726

Steve double checked his pockets while he waited for Eddie and Amelia. It was a big day for the new family. Amelia was graduating kindergarten and she needed to be spectacular. She wanted them all to wear matching outfits, and she wanted to wear her hair the same way her papa did. So, naturally Eddie was a blubbering mess all week.

His disposable cameras were secured and he called up to the two divas. “Time to go or we’ll be late!”

“Coming!” Eddie yelled back wetly. Steve grabbed an extra pack of travel tissues and shoved them in his pocket. He loved his cry baby husband. Speak of the devil, he glanced over his shoulder to watch him come down the steps, and had to suppress a giggle. Eddie was carrying Amelia down with him and both of them were wearing the same thing as Steve: a black button down with dark gray jeans and a pink bow tie. She’d developed a love of dark colors recently, but she still loved her pink. But what got Steve the most, was the hair.

The two of them were sporting matching double dutch braids with plastic roses weaved in. There was an absurd amount of glitter in both their hair and a crazy amount of hair clips. It was obvious that they worked as a team, with Eddie doing the braids and Amelia the accessories. “Dad! You need glitter too!” Amelia shouted. He sighed and knelt down for her to sprinkle his hair with the glitter. “Now we all match!” She jumped out of Eddie’s arms and ran through the garage door and into the car. Steve and Eddie shared a kiss before they followed her.

~~~

They were sitting with the other parents of the kindergartners as they sang their end of year song. They even did a bit of sign language to go along with it. Next was the section where all the kids said what they wanted to be when they grew up.

There were Astronauts, fire fighters, singers, and one very ambitious kid who wanted to be a mermaid scientist. Whether that was studying mermaids or inventing them, Eddie couldn’t tell. But finally it was Amelia’s turn. Eddie took a deep breath, trying his best to stay dry eyed. Steve already handed him a bundle of tissues but he was determined not to use them. That all went out the window the second his little girl spoke.

“Amelia Munson, what do you want to be when you grow up?” Her teacher asked. She smiled and looked at her dads.

“I want to grow up to be a tattoo artist like my papa.” She said. Eddie’s hands flew to his mouth as he gasped. He looked at Steve out of the corner of his eye and saw him pulling out some more tissues before handing them over without a word. He grabbed them gratefully and dabbed at his eyes.

Steve smiled fondly and wrapped his arm around Eddie as he blubbered. The parents around them awed and a few of their parent friends glanced at the pair. Funnily enough, even though Eddie looked like a scary dog, all the parents knew he was a big cry baby when it came to Amelia.

Thinking back to her first day, Eddie remembered how he had cried harder than any of the moms that were there with their kids as the class made their way inside. Steve had to practically drag him away and he made him park across the street for over an hour until they left, “just in case she gets too sad and wants to come home, Steve.” Eddie explained.

If Amelia was sick, he was the one to come pick her up. Not because Steve didn’t care, but it was a lot easier for Eddie to drop everything since he owned the studio he tattooed in. A high school guidance counselor couldn’t exactly drop everything at a moment’s notice.

He knew they had a special bond, the two had a similar background and early childhood. But he never expected their bond to be so special she’d want to grow up to be just like him. The thought filled his heart to bursting.

He looked at Steve and whispered “we really need to get her a cat.” Steve rolled his eyes fondly.

“The puppy wasn’t enough?”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/56184907

[m1ckeyb3rry]

I was wondering if you could make a part 2 to "the instrument"? I got invested reading it was so sad that it ended :(

I don't rlly know what I'm looking for but I loved the plot of that fic and I wanted to see it progress further (´；д；)

Like, it js ended with him giving her flowers, I wanted to see their love bloom more yknowww ಥ_ಥ

(Also is it weird that I see y/n as her own person?)

── THE COMPASS

Synopsis: You were right from the start — Michael Kaiser has always been a dog, albeit perhaps not in the way you first meant it. (part one here!)

BLLK Masterlist

Pairing: Kaiser x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 4.5k

Content Warnings: fake dating trope, mentioned/implied/referenced abuse (both child and animal), call me tabito karasu the way i assassinate kaiser’s character in this, relationship dynamics many would consider…interesting…

A/N: EEK i feel like kaiser is so hard for me to do romance with but i tried my best!! and LMAOO this y/n is definitely a very interesting one so i can see why you got that sense 😭 but i’m glad you liked the instrument and ty for requesting 🥹 i hope this is somewhat satisfactory??

Additional: check my pinned post to make sure i have requests open; after reading the rules, please feel free to make your own!

You are quite certain that your mother was involved in this exercise, considering she’s the only one you can think of with a spare key to your house. So, when your phone call to Michael is sent immediately to voicemail, you don’t hesitate in dialing her number, knowing she’ll pick up immediately, as she always does.

The phone rings only once, and then she’s answering. There are voices in the background that are faint and muffled, which means either she’s watching a new drama or your father is watching some sports game. Then you detect the faint sound of cheers, and you conclude it must be the latter. 

“Hello, Y/N,” your mother says. “Did you need something?”

She is very obviously trying to maintain an air of mysteriousness, as if she has no idea why you might be calling her, but the fact that she is putting on such an act makes it all the more obvious that it is just a facade. You’ve known for many years that your talent onstage is not a genetic one, though it does not stop your parents from pretending that it’s something you inherited from them.

“The flowers,” you say. “You put them there, didn’t you?”

She coughs. You don’t know if she’s disguising a laugh or if she’s just taken aback to that extent. Either way, you give her a moment to compose herself, for it’ll be a mess if you don’t. Your mother is like that, after all. If you inundate her with questions, she’ll respond to exactly none of them, so patience is the only method you have if you wish to obtain any measure of success.

“It wasn’t my own doing,” she says finally. You sigh.

“Of course, someone told you to, and I’m sure we both know who,” you say. “What did he say?”

“He meant well,” she says. “Are you angry with him? He seemed to think you might be. Anyways, he just told me to give them to you. It’s his way of saying sorry, I think. Or perhaps of saying something else. I’m afraid I can’t understand him the way you do. It’s magical, really, how you all but read his mind…”

“No one can read his mind,” you scoff. “He’s a convoluted man, and his thoughts are his own.”

“And you despise him because of that?” she prods, in a way that indicates she already knows the answer and is only asking for her personal satisfaction.

“I love him all the more for it,” you say shortly. Somehow, it’s worse saying it to your mother than it was with him. More real, maybe. Unable to be taken back. You don’t want to take it back, of course, but nevertheless, even if you did, you no longer can. It’s out in the world, now, and the world has a strange humor; it takes things one says even carelessly, without thought, and it turns them into undeniable, inescapable truth. 

“Well,” she says. “That is a predicament.”

“There’s no predicament,” you say.

“He believes there is,” she says. “Right before he left, he—”

“Left?” you repeat. The flowers on your counter are arcing towards the sun, their petals unfurling towards the light pouring from your window. It’s a behavior more typical of flowers other than roses, but these roses are blue and they are Michael’s, so it stands to reason that they behave peculiarly. “Where did he go?”

“I couldn’t tell you,” she says. “He didn’t mention where he was going, just that he had to leave for a bit. But he looked sad. I mean, it’s difficult to tell with him, given how stoic he is, so I don’t know. Don’t take me at my word and start a fight about it.”

This is all you’re going to get out of her. You’re sure of it; there’s a wavering to her voice that signals she’s out of her depth. It’ll be unproductive and all but cruel if you continue to drill her, so you grit your teeth, squeezing your eyes shut and counting to three in your mind. Frustration is a wasted emotion, especially when the target of your frustration is somewhere far away, gone with nothing but a pot of flowers as a farewell.

That’s what it really is. Not an apology or a confession, but a goodbye. The fact that he thought to do it does mean something, but that meaning doesn’t outweigh the intention. So you make meaningless small talk with your mother and then your father, who she passes the phone to, and as soon as you can, you hang up and call another person, one who might be your only chance at finding the wandering stray that is Michael Kaiser.

Michael doesn’t really have friends, claims he doesn’t need them, but if there is one man who he might deign to bestow that title upon, it is his Bastard München teammate, Alexis Ness. They have been playing together since they were young, and so, if anything, there is an empathy between the two, although Michael will never admit it.

You’ve only met Alexis Ness a few times, at the various events which Michael used to drag you to when your relationship was still in the public eye. He’s never been anything but polite, albeit reserved, and on your third meeting, he gave you his phone number, telling you to call him if you ever ran into trouble. He had left the with Michael unsaid, but the implication had been there. You had thanked him and never called him since.

He’s quick to respond, like he was expecting the call — for all you know, he really was, though you would never ask either way. However, he does not speak first, so there is an awkward pause as you both wait for the other to say something.

“Good morning, Mr. Ness,” you say once a minute has gone by and he still has said nothing. “This is Y/N L/N. You gave me your number once.”

“Ah, Kaiser’s girlfriend,” he says. They have this habit, those soccer players, of referring to each other solely by last name. Your theory is that it’s to create distance, to avoid becoming close to a person who can be stolen by another team at any moment. You can’t fathom any other explanation. It’s a little sad to you, but you try not to judge, because there’s as many or more judgements that can be passed about your own lifestyle and habits.

“Yes,” you say. 

“Are you calling to ask me where he went?” he says. 

“I am,” you say. There’s no point in games. You don’t know Alexis Ness well enough to play them, and he seems to appreciate candidness, so the both of you are blunt in your conversations.

“I’m not supposed to tell you,” he says. “He swore me to secrecy.”

“I see,” you say. It’s disappointing, but it doesn’t come as a surprise. Michael is more than a little paranoid, so of course he took these ridiculous measures to cover his tracks.

“Nothing against you,” he says. “In fact, you should take it as a compliment. It sounded like there’s some messes he needed to clean up before he could bear to face you.”

“He’s horrible at cleaning,” you say.

“I don’t mean literal cleaning,” he says. It’s patient but also mocking. You roll your eyes, a silent form of retribution that he’ll never know of.

“Neither do I,” you say. Alexis Ness exhales heavily. Perhaps you’ve given him a migraine. It’s a particular skill of yours, or so you’ve been told.

“Berlin,” he says.

“Berlin?” you say.

“That’s where he is. If he asks, I’m not the one who told you,” he says, and then he’s ending the call before you can even thank him.

Berlin’s a big city, so Ness’s advice isn’t as helpful as he might’ve thought it would be, but at least it’s a start. Besides, for all his idiosyncrasies, Michael has a few patterns he follows with religiosity, so you tell your agent you’re going on a trip and silence your phone before he can call you and sputter protests about the impromptu nature of the semi-vacation.

The volunteers at the dog shelter tell you that Michael’s been there for the majority of the day. They’ve left him alone because they don’t know what to say; it’s not everyday that a celebrity wanders into such an establishment without so much as a word, and he’s remained relatively harmless, so they’ve continued about their daily business, ignoring him as best as they could when it became obvious he had no interest in speaking to them.

When you enter the kennel room, you find him sitting in front of one with a large hound in it. It has a pointed muzzle, and its tail does not wag at your approach, but it does lift its head and blink at you a couple of times before going back to sleep. 

The cement floor is cold, but still you sit beside Michael, hugging your knees to your chest in a mirror of his position, careful not to touch him, thinking that he is wild enough to flee if you do. The hound lets out a soft breath. You notice that there are pink lines cutting through the black of its fur, marring its wide torso, shiny as the skin does its best to heal.

“She was seized from her owner,” Michael says. “The neighbors called the police one night when things got too loud.”

He’s not looking at you, but it’s obvious you’re the one he meant that statement for, so you shift closer to him, placing one hand on his arm. He flinches the tiniest bit, but when you try to pull away, he reaches up and stops you, holding your hand there, though he still refuses to turn away from the dog.

“Apparently, the guy got drunk and beat her,” he says. “She belonged to his wife, but once his wife died, he became an alcoholic, and that poor dog was the only one there to see it. I’m sure she tried to keep loving him at first, though. Even when she was frightened. Dogs do their best to love you, because they can’t understand that no matter how hard they try, it doesn’t matter. If someone wants to hate them, then all of the love in the world won’t be enough to stop that.”

He’s talking about the dog, but that’s not what he really means. That’s just how he is: he speaks in circuitous riddles to avoid ever saying anything plainly. Flowers and dogs — both are just methods of avoiding what he really wants to tell you.

“We can take her home,” you say. “Give her a different name and a place where she can be happy. Even if something has been hurt before, that doesn’t mean it has to hurt forever.”

His eyes lower, and then he stands, yanking you to your feet. Steadying you when you stumble, he lets go of you abruptly, frowning and turning away from the dog, who is awoken by the suddenness of the movement, flattening her ears against her head and shrinking back.

“She’s frightened of men now,” he says. “Has been ever since she was rescued. Bites every male that comes near her. I can’t blame her. If I were her, I’d do the same. Apparently, that means she’s not really adoptable. Not by us and not by anyone.”

The dog whines plaintively. You offer her the back of your hand through the bars of the kennel. She sniffs it before licking it carefully, and then she thumps her tail against her bed in approval — only one time, though, and then she’s standing, pacing in unhappy circles around the small kennel, which can hardly fit an animal of her size.

“I want her,” you say. “I don’t care if she isn’t adoptable. I want her.”

“Of course you do,” he says. He would sound aggravated, but there is a curious delight dancing in his eyes, a childish sort of joy that so rarely sparkles in those blue irises, so he completely doesn’t. “Of course you want her. You can’t stay away from hurt things, can you? Who told you I was here?”

“No one,” you say. “I figured it out by myself.”

He purses his lips, following after you as you make your way to the front desk. Disapproval rolls off of him in waves, but also something else. Something shriveled and cowering which is fighting desperately to crawl to the surface.

The volunteers are surprised to hear which dog you insist on taking, and they try to convince you to look at any of the more appealing ones — the puppies, or the well-trained retrievers that already have waitlists of potential adopters. You’re an actress, however, so they’ll put you at the top and give you whichever one you want. You tell them you know which one you want already, and eventually they give up on arguing, only frowning as you sign the litany of documents they produce, clicking their tongues and telling you that she’ll be difficult.

You respond that it’s fine. You’re used to difficult things; in fact, you think that you prefer them. They shake their heads and then you are told that your dog — yours, miraculously she is yours — will be ready for you to get her whenever you want.

Michael’s business in Berlin is not yet completed, you can sense it, so you tell them that you will return later and then you chase after his disappearing back, catching him by the sleeve of his coat in a narrow alleyway which leads to a theater.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he says. He’s gazing at a poster with a woman on it; she’s beautiful, with elfin features and flowing hair the color of gold. She’s also someone you recognize. “Fuck Ness. I know he told you. I’m going to kill him when I get back.”

“Leave him alone,” you say. “He didn’t tell me anything.”

“Sure,” he says. “Whatever.”

“Do you know her?” you say, pointing at the woman.

“Do you?” he shoots back. He’s crabby now, snapping easily and readily, though you’ve not really done anything to provoke him.

“Yes,” you say. It’s not the answer he had predicted, which you can tell because he whirls to glare at you instead of the movie poster. “Why are you surprised? We’re in the same industry. I was almost in a movie with her a while back, though it fell through because of an issue with the writers. She’s nice enough, I guess. I went to her wedding a couple of years ago, but other than that, I wouldn’t say we’re particularly close.”

“You…went to her wedding?” he says, and then, inexplicably, his fingers are weaving in between yours. It feels like he is holding onto you for something more than affection, so you stand as still as you possibly can, only humming in agreement.

“Yes, I did. Actually, she married her childhood sweetheart, which took everyone by surprise. It was commonly thought that she’d marry one or another of her costars, you see. She’s always been good at creating chemistry…people always say that she can make even a rock seem desirable, that’s how she is,” you say wistfully, leaning your head on his shoulder. He doesn’t shove you away, enraptured by the story. “It’s amazing to watch. But isn’t it kind of sweet? That despite how excellent she is at feigning affection, how she could’ve had any man in the world, she chose the boy from her youth? I remember talking to him. He has nothing, no money or connections or investments. She really just married him because he loves her for who she is.”

“Is love really all she wanted?” he says.

“I suppose it’s all that a lot of people want,” you say. “Rumor has it that she's pregnant.”

He stiffens against you. “What?”

“Well, I think she’s a little old for it, but it’s common for women in my line of work to wait until the signs of age are beyond concealment before they have children, so it’s not a shock,” you say.

“Why?’ he says. 

“It’s the industry’s standards—” you begin before he cuts you off.

“No,” he says. “No, why is she — why does she want — why is she pregnant?”

“Isn’t it common for people to start a family eventually?” you say. “By the way, you never answered my question. Do you know her?”

“She’s my mother,” he says. The words are angry, but his tone is forlorn, his hand in yours cold and small. “But I’m — I’m not her son.”

He looks so wretched that you cannot help embracing him, and when he reciprocates in earnest and without pretense, you know that you have done the right thing. His breaths are fast and shaky, though he is not crying, and as much as you wish you had not said it, you believe deep down that it is important that you did.

Platitudes are meaningless. If you say it’s okay or something along those lines, you will be a liar, because the truth is that it’s not okay. You are not the one who can decide if it’s okay or not. You can only remain as you have been, motionless and gentle, stroking his back in the way one settles a restless infant, allowing his fingers to dig into your sides and his looming weight to collapse into you — for his sharpness is not borne of malice but helplessness, however loath to admit it he might be.

“Why?” he whispers. There’s a million questions he could be asking, and none of them are ones you can ever answer for him, but that will not stop him. “Why couldn’t it be me? Why couldn’t she be happy with me? I would have loved her. I would have been her family.”

“A lot of people don’t deserve children,” you muse. “Or love, or many other such happinesses. And still more people cannot understand the importance of these things when they are within their grasp. Your mother must’ve been very young when she had you. It’s easy to be blinded by stardom and glamor and fairytales at that age. It’s easier still to abandon everything for just a taste of the spotlight. There’s a school of thought that fame is impossible to attain without that necessary sacrifice.”

“What about you?” he says.

“I’m not an exception,” you say ruefully. “Any normal person would have hung up on you when you first called, Michael. I’m only lucky in that it was you and not anyone else on the other end of the line. It’s only because I know you that I realized there are more important things in this world than celebrity and popularity. Once I would’ve spurned the thought of obscurity, but now, if I can have you, then I wouldn’t even mind it so much. It’s the same conclusion your mother must have reached.”

“It’s too late,” he says. “She reached it too late.”

“Yes,” you say. “Yes, she did reach it too late, but it’s easier to give this kind of life up once you’ve known it than to never have it at all. That’s the only reason why. She was greedy, and you bore the consequences.”

“It’s not fair,” he says. You’ve never heard him like this. Normally, he’d laugh at the mere thought of such vulnerability, but the gray of the city has clearly twisted him into a wounded and fragile version of himself, prone to shattering, made of a glass that is already jagged at the edges and can hardly keep together because of it. “It’s not fair, it’s not — I hate her, and I hate him, and I hate her stupid new family, and I —I—”

He silences himself, obviously unsure of what to say, and then he holds your face in his hands, giving you a pleading stare. Help me, he seems to beg. Tell me what to do. He is lost, and somehow you have become a map of sorts, or a compass, one which points in a direction he has no choice but to follow.

“Why did you come here?” you say. “When you knew it would hurt you, why did you come?”

“I wanted to remind myself,” he says. “For a second, you even convinced me that I was worthy of being — you know. So I had to come back. I had to see with my own eyes the kind of person I really am. If my mother and my father and my entire damn city hate me, then why should you be any different?”

He’s scared that he will hurt you, and that you will hurt him, and that he will be alone again, as he has been for much of his life. For all his brashness, his bravado, his smugness and his smooth way of speaking in public, he’s never really been anything more than a little boy who’s frightened, who presses against the back wall of his enclosure like that beaten hound did.

“You know that I am different,” you say. “I am not your mother, nor your father. I will leave everything behind but you. In fact, I’ll leave it for you. Tell me to and I will.”

“What if I tell you to quit acting?” he says.

“Then I will retire at once,” you say. “I already have more money than I know what to do with.”

“And if I tell you to move across the world?” he tries, resting his forehead against yours. “Would you do that, despite your entire life being here?”

“Yes,” you say. “I am quick at making friends and learning new things, so I will adapt to it.”

“What about if I tell you to marry me?” he says. His lips are so close to yours that he is speaking against your mouth, but he doesn’t try to kiss you yet. 

“You wouldn’t ask?” you say.

“I don’t ask for things,” he says.

“Naturally, I’d marry you,” you say. “There isn’t anyone else I’d ever want, anyways. We’d have the most beautiful wedding in the world, and we’d only invite the people we like.”

“That’s a short list,” he says. His heartbeat is calming down; it’s a temporary solution, but if it manages to distract him, then you’ll indulge the flight of fancy.

“My parents,” you say.

“Ness,” he says.

“I always knew you liked him,” you say.

“Only because I have to,” he says.

“Anyone else?” you say.

“No,” he says. “That’s it. We can even forget about all of those people, actually. I just want it to be the two of us. Nobody else matters but — but you.”

He’s stuttering as he comes to his senses. These declarations aren’t typical of him, as foreign as French on his tongue, but he’s making them anyways. He’s been fighting the compulsion for a while, you can tell, but it’s hard for him to keep fighting on all fronts of his life. Eventually, one side will give. You are glad that it is your side, that you are the one he has given to, no matter how reluctantly he has done it.

“Is there anything else you’d like?” you say. “All of these are easy for me to do. Ask for something difficult, so that I may prove to you that I am telling the truth, that I mean what I say.”

“It’s not a request, but a condition,” he says.

“You only need to name it,” you say.

“If I hurt you, then you have to run,” he says. “Run so far away that I can never reach you. Even though it’ll hurt me, I want you to run. Even though I’ll beg for you to stay, please leave.”

That’s it, then. The most difficult thing he can imagine a person doing: leaving someone they love. Certainly he is unable to do it. It doesn’t matter if he’s suffering. He’ll suffer longer just to stay by your side, just as he suffered for all of those many years as a child. 

It’s how you know he loves you more than he’ll ever let on. He holds you in such esteem that he’ll let you leave him if you have to, though it’ll indubitably destroy him, destroy him more than staying could ever destroy you. Yet still he is giving you that permission, commanding it, even, because he’d rather destroy himself than let even the slightest harm befall your being.

You can only draw that conclusion because you know that he will never, can never, hurt you. He isn’t saying this as a warning, because it isn’t an inclination that he has. No, it’s a dark and ugly voice in the back of his mind — does it sound like his father’s? You feel that it must — insisting that he will do it, he will. He’ll hurt you. He’s the reason that his mother left and his father became something sick, and he’ll be the reason that you are broken and ruined and torn apart. He’ll do it. He’ll be the one to do it, it’s inevitable, he’ll scratch you with his thorns and gnaw at your remains with his fangs and maybe he’ll even cry during the act but he’ll still do it.

“Alright,” you say, though you want to protest that he is incapable, because it’s clear that he is testing you. Every argument which might fall from your lips, he has heard before, and if you dare utter them one more time, it’ll be the proof that you are lying. The way his thoughts work, the paths that they follow, they are winding and narrow, but perhaps your mother is right — perhaps you are coming to understand them.

“Do you think that I can?” he says.

“No,” you say. “The fact that you worry about it tells me that you won’t. You are better than that, Michael.”

“You really believe that?” he says. “With everything you are, you believe it?”

“I do,” you say.

You almost can’t believe it, but he laughs. Well, calling it a laugh is generous, it’s really more of an exhale, yet one which is unquestionably seeping with amusement, and you’re about to ask him what he finds so funny when he was so close to breaking down mere moments earlier, but he stops you before you can.

“I do,” he says. It’s an odd thing to repeat, but a second later your mind registers why he’s done it, and then the corners of your lips are curving up.

In the streets of Berlin, the two of you are alone; his mother’s poster is your only witness, but if she takes some offense, she remains smiling and silent, her gaze far away as her son — who isn’t her son, he isn’t hers at all, he’s yours and only yours — finally closes the minuscule gap between you both and kisses you fully.

[slxtslovebambi]

Teasing him in front on his friends

Suna Rintarou x Fem!reader

Mentions of Aran and Miya Twins.

Synopsis: Getting on Suna's nerves while he is with his friends probably wasn’t the best idea.

Warnings: Nsfw, Thigh riding, slight exhibitionism?, power dynamics, spanking, orgasm denial, begging, kinda degrading?

Wc: 1.7k+ | MDNI

Suna loves his pretty girl.

He loves watching his friends gush over you, and he loves the fact that he’s the only one that gets to touch you in all the places he wants.

Right now you’re placed in his lap with your head resting on his shoulder while he’s talking to Aran, Atsumu and Osamu as you’re almost falling asleep.

You love Suna's friends, you really do, but you’ve been tired all day and you just want to go home.

You want to watch TV and cuddle with him, but it doesn’t seem like your boyfriend is planning on leaving soon.

"Rin…" you mumble quietly in his ear, just loud enough for him to hear.

"What’s wrong princess?" He pauses his conversation with his friends while looking down at you.

"Can we please go home? Please?" You give him your puppy dog eyes while you claw at his shirt.

"Now?" He sighs before checking his wrist watch.

"Mhm." You respond calmly.

"Just one more hour baby I promise."

He doesn’t want to leave yet. It’s not often that he sees his friends after graduating Highschool, right now he just wants to catch up with them and have fun.

"But I’m so tired." You pout at him.

"C’mon baby stop bein' so cranky. You’ll get a reward later if you behave now."

He makes you sit up straight so that you can face him and look him in his eyes.

"I don’t want a reward, I wanna go home!" You hiss at him before you pinch his chest.

You can barley keep your eyes open and you’re starting to get annoyed at the fact that he cares more for his friends than for you, but you immediately regret raising your voice at him after you see the way he looks at you. If there’s one thing that your boyfriend hates, it’s dumb little girls acting like brats, and not only that but in front of his friends too.

He just waves off and continues to ignore you again, what doesn’t mean that he’ll let you get away with the little outburst you just had, he’s just going to take care of it later.

You keep on trying to get his attention but it seems like he just doesn’t care, he acts like you’re not even there, and keeps talking to his friends about the most random things. You’re starting to get frustrated while you think of different ways to make your boyfriend want to leave with you.

Mindlessly you begin moving in his lap when he wraps his hand around your waist to make you sit still as you get an idea. You rest your head against his chest before you start slowly rubbing your clothed pussy on his thigh. Your left hand slides under his shirt, where you hold onto his belt.

Suna immediately realizes what you’re doing and it doesn’t go unnoticed by his friends either. He roughly grabs you by your shoulder before gritting his teeth.

"What the fuck do you think you’re doin'?" He glares at you.

"I think yer girl needs some discipline Suna."

Atsumu giggles. It seems like this entire situation is pretty amusing to him.

"Shut the fuck up, like ya know what a girl needs Tsumu." Osamu interrupts his twin, as he hits his shoulder.

You still don’t stop grinding on his thigh, the spite the fact that it’s obvious that everybody’s watching you. If Suna doesn’t want to listen then he has to learn it the hard way, at least that’s what you thought before he grabbed your chin to leave a slap on your cheek.

"We’re leavin'." Is all he says before standing up and dragging you after him.

"Take care Suna." Aran and Osamu figured that acting like nothing happened would make things easier for you, since they know how Suna can be.

"Make sure ya don’t break her, she still needs to come to my game on Saturday." Atsumu jokes as you wave all 3 of them goodbye.

"Shut the fuck up." Suna responds before dragging you out.

。 ☆★☆ 。

"You seriously pissed me off today princess."

Suna pushes you onto your shared bed after he just took off your shirt and bra, exposing your tits to him.

"It’s your fault, you ignored me!"

You roll you’re eyes at him while trying to cover your chest. One stern look from him is enough to make you realize that hiding your body won’t help you right now. You let go of your chest and look up to him where his and your eyes meet.

"My fault huh?" He says while holding you in place by your waist.

"Mhm." You stand your ground.

"I should put a fucking collar on you since you wanna act like a fuckin' dog."

He moves your skirt out of the way before rubbing his thumb against your inner thigh.

"On all fours." Is all he says. You choose to not disobey him again, since you don’t want to make things worse than they already are. You feel Suna's hand trailing over the soft flesh of your butt while your face is pressed into the mattress.

"Now be a good girl and count for me yeah?" He says before you feel his hand harshly spank your behind. "O-One." You start counting. "Mhm, just like that." He praises you before slapping you again. "Two." You continue counting like Suna wanted you to. "That wasn’t loud enough." He says as he places another firm slap on your ass. "Three." You cry out loudly when you feel the pain starting to get worse and the well known stinging that’s probably going to make sitting very difficult for you for the next two to three days.

Ten slaps later and you’re so overwhelmed that you just start whining into your pillow. You wouldn’t be surprised if your neighbors could hear you by now but it’s impossible to keep your shit together with your ass burning like that. You’re sobbing while begging Suna to stop.

"C-Can’t a-anymore. P-Please, hurts to m-much." You whimper.

"Shut up and fucking take what I give you, understood?"

He warns you as he slides your panties down to your ankles before tossing them to the side. You nod slowly at his threat as he turns you onto your back and slowly presses his thumb against your clit.

He wraps his other hand around your throat tightly while smirking viciously at the fact that you’re pussy's already soaking wet for him. You can feel the metal of his rings pressing against your skin, as you gasp for air. Suna immediately feels your body twitching lightly when he slides his middle and ring finger inside of you. You grab his wrist and try to remove his hand form your neck but he just tightens his grip.

"R-Rin I- I.." you try make him stop, digging your nails into his skin but he just won’t let go.

"You want me to stop?" He asks as he looks down on you.

You just nod in response.

"Apologize to me first."

"I’m s-sorry." You barley get out.

"Say I’m sorry for bein’ a selfish little attention whore." He commands harshly as he removes his fingers from your clenching pussy to sluggishly insert his already stiffened cock inside of you.

Your head turns to the side and you whine in pain as Suna's hand forcefully grabs you by your hair to make you look at him.

"Say it!" He yells at you while tears start rolling down your face. He starts moving carefully while trying to keep himself from moaning by biting down on his lip. Fuck, he loves you for always making him feels so good, but there’s no way he’d ever let you know, especially not if you were acting like a bitch earlier.

"I-I’m sorry for being-ahh a s-selfish…." All the sobbing makes it difficult for you to think straight, what keeps you from being able to finish your sentence.

"C’mon princess you almost got it." Suna looks at you expectant while still holding you by your hair as he starts to move faster.

"For being a sel-selfish little a-attention Whore." You finish with a mortified look on your face.

"Mhm that’s right, you wanna be my good girl again?" He asks as he lets go of your hair.

"Y-Yes please." You beg mindlessly as the tears in your eyes make it hard for you too distinguished anything.

"Wanna feel good baby?" You hear him laughing quietly to himself as you let out a small, "Mhm.".

"Should I go deeper princess?" He knows exactly what your answer is going to be and yet he asked just cause he wanted to hear you say it.

"P-Please go deeper, I need you to go d-deeper Rin!"

You’re so desperate for him right now that it’s humiliating in many ways, especially since you were the one that started all of this. Of course you don’t regret it but you might think about it twice if you want to annoy your boyfriend next time. Suna holds you by your waist as he deepens his thrusts.

"Why can’t you just listen to me? You think I like doing this?"

He hisses under his teeth.

"I love treating you like a princess but you just keep makin' things difficult for me."

You can feel how frustrated he is by the way he’s slamming his dick inside of you with not a single bit of pity in sight. He feels you tightening around him, knowing that it means that you’re about to cum.

"Oh so you’re close hmm?" He hums devilishly.

You nod your head yes as you feel your body getting ready to release yourself right on his cock, wich is still hammering inside you when suddenly all your pleasure reduces to zero. You can’t even comprehend what just happened to you when you yelp loudly and notice that Suna stopped moving completely.

You whine and whimper, trying to rub your behind against him when he violently smack your butt again, right where you were already sore.

"You really thought I’d let you cum? Silly little girl… Tonight only I get to cum.

♡───◌┈───♡⃝──┈◌───♡ ———————————————————

I really don’t know how to feel about this lmaoo. I started so many works but I just don’t know how to finish them, so I’m sorry if this is kinda rushed! :(

Don’t forget to Follow and Reblog <3

———————————————————

[starsandhughes]

If You Love Her— Jack Hughes x Zegras!Reader

this fic is inspired by “if you love her” by forrest blakk!

word count: 2.2k

warnings: none that i can think of!

MASTERLIST

Jack had never felt something like this about somebody ever. He had never been completely enamored by someone. He had never experienced butterflies. He had never smiled so much that it hurt over somebody’s laugh.

Until he met Trevor, and by extension, you. The day he met you, he knew you were special. He knew he wanted to be more than friends, and that he didn’t want to rush. He knew that he didn’t want a “fling.” He knew that he wanted you to be his, really his.

Trevor had a feeling about this. He saw the way you two looked at each other. He saw how much you two couldn’t take your eyes off one another. He saw that his twin sister was helplessly falling for one of his friends, and that Jack was falling harder.

“She likes you, too, you know,” Trevor said as he plopped himself down next to Jack to be partners for their English project.

Jack’s eyes widened. Was he that obvious?

“How did- how did you… I mean— I don’t like your sister! Where did you get that idea?” Jack stumbled out in a panic.

“Relax!” Trevor laughed. He patted Jack on the back, “I don’t mind it.”

“You don’t?!” Jack blurted out, a bit too loud as he got a stern look from their teacher.

“You don’t?” he said, quieter this time.

“Not at all,” Trevor assured him. “I trust you. But if she gives you her heart, all I ask is that you don’t break it. She’s had some rough boyfriends in the past, so let her feel safe with you. And I might be biased, but she’s the best thing that you’ll ever have.”

“I don’t think you’re biased. I think you’re right,” Jack said, sounding absolutely smitten. “I’m going to take my time with her, then. So she knows I’m safe.”

Trevor broke out into a big grin, “Thank you.”

——

It was spring break at the Hughes lake house when you and Jack got really close. It was you, your brother, Jack, his brothers, Cole, and Alex all together with Jack’s parents. Jim and Ellen were super welcoming and are making sure you all feel at home.

Seeing Jack interact with his family, especially his brothers, really made you miss Griffin and Ava. You walked over in front of Trevor and leaned back, slamming yourself against Trevor’s chest. Trevor stumbled back a bit at the sudden weight against him but quickly stabled and wrapped his arms around you and places his head on top of yours.

“I know,” Trevor sighed, reading your mind. “I miss them, too.”

“I never thought I’d miss Griffin waking me up by throwing a pillow at me full force until he wasn’t around to do it,” you laughed.

“I’ll be happy to take that job,” Trevor said.

“Hard pass,” you rolled your eyes.

“You sure? I can wake you up in other ways. Like this,” Trevor put his hands on your shoulders and started shaking you. “Or this,” he yanked at your hair. “Or I could jump on top of you and start licking you like a dog like this!”

You broke out of his grasp and ran straight to Jack, interrupting whatever conversation he was having with his older brother, Quinn.

“Jack! He’s trying to lick me!”

You wrapped your arms around his waist and tucked into his side.

“Why are you trying to lick her?” Jack asked laughing.

“She misses Grif!” Trevor replied as if that was an obvious answer.

“Griffin doesn’t lick me!”

“Yeah, so I will for him!”

“That doesn’t make any sense!”

“Keep your tongue in your mouth, Zegras!” Jack said laughing. He moved you to the front side of his body and wrapped both arms around you. “Don’t worry, Y/N. I’ll protect you.”

You weren’t completely sure if you saw what you think you saw, but you could’ve sworn you saw Trevor wink.

The longer you stayed put, the more you noticed what you were doing. You were hugging— no, you were attached to Jack. For a while now. Your heart was racing, but you felt a wave of calm when Jack’s grip on you got tighter.

——

That night while around the bomb fire, you were goofing around with Alex and Quinn while Trevor parked himself next to Jack.

“She doesn’t do that with everybody,” Trevor leaned into him as he spoke.

“Do what?”

“Hug you for that long. I’ve never seen her hold onto somebody for that long, actually. She probably would’ve stayed there until she died if she didn’t have to pee twenty minutes in,” Trevor joked.

“Tell me more,” Jack said low.

“More what?” Trevor asked, confused.

“Her little quirks. Things I should know,” Jack shrugged. “Really anything.”

Trevor looked over at you and pondered for a minute, trying to decide what things would be good for Jack to know.

“She doesn’t do it anymore, at least not to me, but she’s always had trouble falling asleep. She used to come into my room and lay with me. She’d have to cuddle under the sheets, but after a while, she’d finally fall asleep and I’d carry her to bed.”

“That’s sweet,” Jack said, also looking at you.

“Annoying is what it was,” Trevor said. “She stopped when I started to get up really early for hockey.”

“Keep going,” Jack said.

“She basically only listens to pop music, and she loves dancing to it. She’ll make anyone dance with her. Dad used to spin her all around the living room and she hasn’t stopped since,” Trevor told him.

That sparked an idea in Jack. He ran inside to get his speaker and shouted at you to see if you wanted to connect to it. As soon as you connected, Trevor ran up behind you and snatched your phone.

“Trevor!” you shouted.

“This song’s been in my head all day! You love it, trust me,” he said, holding your phone up high and out of reach.

Trevor was right, you do love this song. Trevor put on Slow Hands by Niall Horan, your current favorite song that you’ve been listening to over and over since it was released. Your eyes lit up and you gasped, throwing your hands up in the air and spinning around.

“Trevy! Dance with me!” you declared.

Trevor pretended to trip backwards and grabbed onto Jack for dear life. Jack caught him and pulled him up straight, but Trevor was acting like he hurt himself.

“Ow! Oh no!” Trevor said in the fakest tone. “I tripped and sprained my ankle! I fear I can never dance again!” He pushed Jack forward, “Good thing Jack can!”

Trevor shoved Jack towards you. He was blushing, but you were smiling. You knew exactly what your twin brother was up to.

“I uh… Can’t really dance,” Jack said sheepishly. You smiled at him, “I can’t really dance, either. Just go with my flow.”

“Your flow?” Jack laughed.

“Yep!”

You really couldn’t dance, but you could have Jack spin you around and twirl you under his arm. You had him in the position a couple would slow dance in but you were moving faster to the beat of the song. You had him extend his arm and yours and you twirled into him, landing with your back to his chest and your arms tangled together. You looked up and sent him a smile so big that it took over half your face, and to your delight, he was, too.

You removed yourself from his hold, “See? That wasn’t that bad!”

“It was fun. I could get used to that,” Jack said.

“That’s good, because apparently Trevor can never dance again,” you laughed. “What a dork.”

Trevor called Jack over to him, and told you it was a “secret conversation” that you could not snoop on, so you went back over to Quinn, Alex, and now Cole and Luke.

“See!” Trevor said, nudging Jack with his elbow. “I told you she loves it!”

“What else does she love?”

“She loves love notes and babies and giving gifts. Not even just for birthdays and Christmas! If she sees something that reminds her of you, she tends to get it and smack a little bow on it,” Trevor said. “She says it’s her main love language and she’ll tell you all about the love languages if you ask. She loves that stuff. She loses her mind and gets really happy if I pick her up something as simple as candy. She loves her whole family and all of her friends, but she’s more reserved now in the dating department. So if you’re the one she lets in, that’s big.”

“What does she not love?”

“That’s a weird question, but okay,” Trevor teased. “She has a hard time accepting a good compliment, but she’s getting better. She can be really insecure, so if she doesn’t notice how pretty she is, tell her over and over so she never forgets. She’ll get flustered, but she needs it. Her past boyfriends weren’t too good at that, and Griffin and I don’t help much getting the message across.”

“I don’t understand that. She’s so beautiful,” Jack said, looking over at you admirably.

“Don’t tell me that! Tell her.”

So he did. Every chance Jack got for the next week he told you over and over how pretty you are, how beautiful you are, how much he adored your laugh. He’d dance with you around the kitchen, even if it was just a little twirl under his arm as you passed by. He’d hug you as tight as he could if he saw you getting stressed. He helped you into and out of the boat. He was a perfect gentleman that you were falling harder and harder for every second you existed with him.

On the last night before you all had to go back to school, Jack went into Trevor’s room one last time.

“I want to officially ask Y/N out on a date,” Jack said immediately when he walked through the bedroom door.

“It’s about time!” Trevor celebrated.

“Is there anything else I should know? I want to treat her right,” Jack said.

“This is the big one. On days when she feels like the whole world might cave in, stand side by side and you’ll make it. Run your fingers through her hair whenever she’s sad; it’s calming for her. If you want to treat her right, you have to treat her right on the bad days, too.”

“Anything else?”

“She’ll love you if you love her like that,” Trevor smiled. “And I know you will. Now go! Take the chance while you have it! Just knock on her door; she’s awake.”

“And Griffin is okay with this, too? I know he’s important to her.”

“Trust me, he’s been waiting on this day longer than I have. Now go!”

Jack practically sprinted out of the room. He quickly stopped by his room to get his laptop and then knocked on your door.

“Come in!” you called out.

Jack slowly opened the door. You sat up and greeted him with a smile, “Jack! What are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to ask you out on a date,” Jack said. He was quite proud of himself for not stumbling over his words. He felt a lot more confident now.

“When and where, Hughesy?” you asked. You were blushing madly.

“Right now, and the boat dock.”

“Right now?! I’m not dressed!”

“And you still look beautiful,” Jack complimented. You didn’t think you could blush even harder until he said that.

“Smooth,” you said.

“I try,” Jack joked.

You tossed off the covers and got out of bed, “Lead the way.”

Jack held out his hand for you to take. You only let go to put some shoes on, but grabbed it right back when you were ready. You two quietly crept out of the house and walked to the dock. Jack stepped into the boat and held out his hand to help you in. He had laid out a blanket and some throw pillows before he even asked Trevor.

“What’s this?” you asked.

“I know you like Disney movies, so what better place to watch Moana than on a boat? We can pretend this is an ocean.”

You laid down on the blankets immediately, full of excitement. You patted the spot next to you, and Jack laid down and propped his laptop, already ready to go, on a seat and sat back. You cuddled up close to him, and he put his arm around you. His heart was racing at the sudden closeness. Throughout the movie, you slowly got closer and closer to him until your arms were wrapped around his waist and your head was on his chest.

“Your heart is beating really fast,” you whispered. “Are you okay?”

“I am. I’d be better if you let me kiss you,” Jack told you. He was feeling bold.

You sat up and looked at him, “Smooth.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Just kiss me!”

Jack placed a hand on your cheek and leaned in. It was soft, slow, and passionate. It was perfect. You didn’t want to stop, but you had to pull apart for air.

“Was that–”

“It was dreamlike.”

“Can I do it again?”

“If you don’t, I will.”

[moviecritc]

✦ ˚ : · LONG HUGS ⋆ PATO O'WARD 🦢

pairing ☆ pato o'ward x fem! bff! reader

summary ☆ where pato and you've been bestfriends for a little too long

warnings ☆ cheating (not from pato)

masterlist | letterboxd

❛ stop checkin' your mailbox for confessions of love ❜

Y/N had lost count of how many dates she and Pato had been on. Although they weren't dates; neither had ever said to the other, "this is a date." They just met as friends to watch the sunset on the beach while eating pizza or to gaze at the stars in Pato's convertible or countless other get-togethers that always had a romantic tone, but never quite enough.

Y/N met Pato thanks to her sister; Y/N worked at a publishing house and was the one who edited and supported Elba's book project. Soon, they became friends, and Elba's starter pack included him.

Pato and she had been friends for two years, and they had been in love with each other for two years. It was almost love at first sight, although neither of them knew it yet.

In Pato's mind, Y/N only saw him as a friend, someone to have a good time with and laugh a lot, but nothing more. From Y/N's point of view, Pato was the most incredible person in the world, and she couldn't wait to confess her feelings.

At some point, Pato didn't see himself as enough for Y/N; she had a stable job, an amazing apartment, and a future that was not at all uncertain. While he was going from hotel room to hotel room and could be out of work at any moment. He saw himself as chaos for Y/N, almost like a problem.

That feeling worsened when, after returning from a race, they missed their flight, causing Y/N to almost get fired.

"Y/N, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I'll talk to your publishing house, I'll tell them it was all my fault. Forgive me,"

Y/N couldn't believe how much Pato cared about her. She simply smiled at him and grabbed his hands, giving them both chills.

"It's okay, Pato. You don't have to talk to anyone, really. It's all fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely sure."

"You're not mad at me?" Pato was looking at her with the biggest puppy dog eyes imaginable.

"How could I be mad at you, silly."

Y/N let out a light laugh before hugging Pato as they waited for the next plane.

(...)

The race celebrations were the worst; hugs, kisses, touches… But everything was justified by euphoria. Y/N thought that his hugs were longer and more heartfelt than the ones he gave to others, but at the same time convinced herself that she was being delusional. Pato prolonged his hugs as much as possible to remember her when he went back home.

She had been the one by Pato's side during the Indianapolis 500.

“You go,” Elba had told her, leaving her speechless. “He needs you.”

Even now, she kept thinking about that phrase. Pato needed her. The idea of being so important to him caused all sorts of feelings. He was totally devastated, and when he saw Y/N, the sparkle in his eyes was instant. She hugged him and reassured him that there would be many more opportunities to win and that he had done an amazing race. They gathered enough courage and self-esteem to show up at the gala after the race.

It was no secret that the fans were crazy about them and that no one believed they were just friends. It was obvious for everyone except to them.

In the end, that day wasn’t so horrible for Pato, but only because Y/N was by his side.

(...)

The moment when Pato gathered enough courage to confess his feelings to Y/N was terrible. They had arranged to have dinner with their group of friends, and Pato was determined to confess to Y/N. He had spent the entire afternoon preparing his speech with his sister so he wouldn’t mess it up and was anxious for the moment to come.

But all his excitement dissipated when he saw Y/N enter with a man on her arm and introduce him to everyone as her boyfriend, Matt. She seemed to be incredibly happy with him, spending the entire dinner talking about how they had met and how amazing he was and how well he treated her. Pato gradually withdrew from the conversation, under the sympathetic gaze of his sister.

“I’m going outside to get some air,” Pato announced and waited a few moments for Y/N to make the slightest movement towards him, but she didn’t even look at him. She was distracted, laughing at one of Matt’s jokes.

“I’ll go with you,” said Elba, noticing Pato’s discomfort. Again, Y/N didn’t react.

They went outside, and Pato ran his hands over his face and hair, frustrated by it all. “I’m an idiot,” he said, with a saddened and angry expression. “I knew that sooner or later someone would beat me to it, but I didn’t think it would be right now.”

Elba pressed her lips together and put a hand on her brother’s shoulder. “I know. I had no idea she was seeing someone either. I always thought she would wait for you to make a move.”

Pato sighed. This was his fault, after all. He had taken too long to show romantic interest in her, so much so that Y/N hadn’t even noticed.

“Do you want me to talk to her?”

“No,” Pato’s response was immediate. “No, no, no. She seems happy,” he turned his head a little, seeing her through the glass with Matt’s arm around her shoulders. “If she’s happy, I’m happy.”

Elba knew he was lying; she could see it in the bittersweet expression on his face. And it was true, he was lying. If it were up to him, he would get rid of Matt right then and there and kiss her in front of all their friends.

(...)

His sister didn't listen to him and talked to Y/N anyway. They were at the former's house, preparing dinner for a movie night with Norbi when Elba brought up the topic.

“How are things with you and Matt?” she asked, while taking iced tea out of the fridge.

She noticed that as soon as she asked, Y/N broke into a wide smile. “Very well, he's on a business trip. But we're great.”

Elba also smiled, trying to conceal her true intentions a bit. “I'm glad to hear that.” She paused briefly, searching for the right words. “You know, I always thought there might be something between you and my brother.”

Y/N stopped what she was doing for a moment, as if recalling a past life. She couldn't find a way to respond to that without it sounding strange or suspicious, and by that point, Elba's comment had lingered in the air for too long.

“Oh really?” she simply said.

“Yes, I guess you two had that connection.”

“That connection.”

She repeated that phrase to herself many times over the next few days, pondering and questioning whether she and Matt had the same connection she had with Pato.

(...)

Elba's words lingered in Y/N's mind, but life went on as usual. That was until one fateful night when everything came crashing down.

Y/N sat on her couch, a half-empty bottle of wine next to her, and her eyes red from crying. Her phone, clutched tightly in her hand, showed the last message from Matt: “I’m sorry, but it’s over.”

She dialed a number she knew by heart. The phone rang, and Pato’s groggy voice answered. “Hello?”

“Pato,” Y/N slurred, her voice thick with tears and alcohol. “Can you come get me?”

Pato, instantly awake, sat up in bed. “Y/N? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Please,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I need you.”

Without another word, Pato was out of bed, pulling on his clothes. He glanced at his suitcases for tomorrows flight, but Y/N needed him now. Racing could wait.

He found her sitting on the front steps of her apartment building, shivering in the cool night air. Her eyes lit up with a mixture of relief and despair when she saw him.

“Y/N,” he said softly, crouching down beside her. “What happened?”

She fell into his arms, sobbing. “Matt… he cheated on me. I saw him kissing with some woman.”

Pato’s heart ached as he held her close. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. You don’t deserve that.” He could feel the shivers in Y/N's body and how fast her heart was beating.

She pulled back slightly, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. “I feel so stupid, Pato. I thought he loved me.”

“He’s an idiot,” Pato said firmly, lifting her chin. “Anyone who can’t see how amazing you are is a fool.”

She laughed bitterly. “You’ve always been too good to me, Pato.”

Pato helped her to her feet and guided her to his car. Once they were settled inside, she spoke again, her voice barely above a whisper. “You know, I always thought there was something between us.”

Pato’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “What do you mean?”

She turned to him, her eyes filled with a vulnerability he’d never seen before. “I’ve had feelings for you for so long, Pato. I just… I was too scared to say anything.”

Pato’s heart pounded in his chest. “Y/N…”

“I thought maybe you felt the same way,” she continued, her voice cracking. “But then I met Matt, and I tried to move on.”

Pato pulled the car over to the side of the road, unable to keep driving. He turned to her, his eyes searching hers. “Y/N, I’ve been in love with you since forever. I was just too afraid to mess things up between us.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “You…you love me?”

He nodded, reaching out to take her hand. “I do. I always have.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, and she leaned in, her lips brushing against his. “I love you too, Pato.”

Their kiss was soft and tentative at first, but quickly deepened, years of unspoken feelings pouring out. When they finally pulled away, they rested their foreheads together, both breathing heavily.

“I know you have a race tomorrow,” Y/N said, her voice tinged with guilt.

Pato smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Nothing is more important than you, Y/N. Not even racing.”

She smiled, a real smile this time, and snuggled closer to him. “Thank you, Pato. For everything.”

He kissed her forehead, holding her close.

☆ request by: anon

can i pls request pato o’ward and reader liking each other a lot but for one reason or another they can’t be together? you can choose the reason why they’re not together, just a lot of pining and star-crossed lovers vibes <3

a/n: i hope this is what you wanted <3 maybe it's a bit messy but i wrote this at midnight so don't expect too much

[wen-kexing-apologist]

Fight Night

ALRIGHT! Life is wilder and crazier than normal and I have finally had a singular moment to breathe so it is time to do my first scene breakdown of Only Friends. Jojo and co have been feeding me so well, a literal feast of good sex choreo, hand placements, and puppy dog eyes that it has been impossible for me to figure out where I want to start.  But the end of episode five was just so expertly executed I couldn’t not talk about it, the build up, the explosion, the cool down?! Zero people in this production came to play, they showed up on set day one, gave some of their best performances, and just went about their goddamn day. [insert thirty more minutes of showered praise here]. 

So let’s get in to it: 

The Calm Before the Storm

We’re going to start with Sand and Ray before shit goes downhill, at a moment of genuine connection. This is not the first time we have seen them connect. The first of their peaceful, friendlier interactions are paid for by Ray but Sand quickly moves towards free hang outs with Ray after he gets to know Ray a bit better. I think we can all agree that 95% of the time that Sand and Ray are spending with each other, Ray is asking to be serviced (either seeking out sex, or being fed, clothed, or protected by Sand) [and I do think it is pretty telling that Ray’s idea of friendship is being taken care of in every way, and that Sand fully calls that out as being the role of a father]. But the 5% they do have of these moments of getting to know each other, primarily center around their own family dynamics, but in Episode 5, Ray does start dipping his toes in to getting to know more about Sand’s own hopes and dreams.

Where before Ray wasn’t really interested in Sand’s backstory as much as Sand was interested in Ray’s, now on the balcony of Sand’s dingy apartment, Ray finally starts to ask Sand about himself. And Ray is locked in, just absolutely attentive to Sand as he is talking, rarely looking away, asking follow up questions, and making statements based off of what Sand is saying. Things seem to be flowing smoothly, Ray seems slightly sad that Sand doesn’t know his father, he has an actual smile on his face with he tells Sand that he thinks his mother is really cool, and that he respects her. And of course he would respect the relationship that Sand and his mother have, the obvious love they have for one another, because he never got that from his own family. 

Sand has asked about Ray’s family before now (they talked about Ray’s mother in Ep. 2) but when they were first starting to get to know eachother, Ray brushed off any further conversation around his mother’s death. But that willingness to be honest with Sand is beginning to shift. Ray sits there listening to a birth story that runs parallel to his own, a mother with an unexpected pregnancy after a hookup, a father that wasn’t really intending on having a child, and Ray is faced with what his life could have possibly looked like if his mother was a different person. 

And they’ve been hanging out all day, Ray has seen much more of Sand’s personal life, his family life, it’s Sand’s birthday, they are cross faded, and Sand asks Ray once again what happened to his mother, and Ray takes the opportunity to be honest. He watches Sand refill his glass, and he says “she drank herself to death”. 

Now, personally, this is a very important moment to me in terms of both understanding Ray better as a character, and getting Sand and Ray to connect to each other more. A really important thing to remember about substance use disorders is that they are aware of the health consequences of long term substance use. Ray knows his mother drank herself to death, Ray knows that alcohol in the quantities that he is consuming are dangerous, and he cannot stop drinking. Ray does not have any good coping mechanisms for when his life gets hard, (and we will see a much stronger example of that near the end of this scene), but in the build up to the blow out, we are taking some time to re-establish that Ray has a drinking problem. And we are gaining a bit of further insight in to the genetic history of Ray’s own mental health problems. 

I’d have to go back and rewatch all the episodes to be completely certain, but I think so far the only person we haven’t see call Ray a burden is Mew, Mew who knows that Ray tried to kill himself two years ago, Mew who remembers that Ray said if he was gone he wouldn’t be a burden anymore on his goodbye phone call. I mention his mostly because, if that is true, then that is an indication to me that Ray’s other friends don’t really know that much about him. They don’t know how deeply the idea that he is a burden to everyone around him is rooted in to his psyche. They probably don’t know anything about Ray’s relationship to his mother, after all, she died when he was still in high school. 

We know from the end of Episode 4, that Ray has shifted his interests from Mew to Sand. That is not to say that he is not still in love with Mew, or that he wouldn’t drop Sand as soon as possible if presented the opportunity to date Mew, at least from my perception. But what it does indicate to me, is that Ray is beginning to at least consider Sand someone that care about him, that will listen to him, that will be an emergency contact, and as such Ray is more willing to be upfront and honest about who he is as a person. How his mind works, what his place in his own family is, what his own connection to family is. 

Ray senses he is bringing the mood down, and makes a comment to change the subject, shutting down any potential deeper conversation or exposure to pity that he could have with Sand. We know Sand has been down bad for Ray since like…Dick Down 1, but he is really just embarrassingly obvious with his interest in Ray. The way his face goes slack jawed when he looks at Ray’s face for a second too long? Your cool guy persona is in the fucking gutter. ANYWAY, the point of this is that Sand and Ray are vibing, having a good time, connecting, Ray is opening up more, and Sand is falling deeper in to this infatuation at the first sign of Sad Boi Hours when we cut to Nick and Boston. 

Boston, who has had a genuinely peaceful day thus far. He got some work done for school, he and Nick clarified their relationship to one another, he made out in the pool, and he’s looking to reward Nick for changing by asking if he can stay over. We know that Boston has been blackmailed by someone, we know that as a result of that Boston has decided to “settle down” a bit as it were, spend more time with people who he can talk with afterwards. (If you ask me, this isn’t really what Boston wants, it’s just how he is trying to justify laying low with Nick, someone he thinks he has control over and someone I don’t think Boston suspects is capable of blackmail). 

It is Boston who suggests staying over (I am not going to dig too much further in to his choice to ask Nick, but I will just look respectfully towards the thought that he doesn’t want to be found). 

Anyway, Boston asks if he can stay over, and Nick smiles like he’s won something, and leads Boston inside, where they both promptly interrupt Sand and Ray. Boston’s face lights up when he sees Ray there, but not in any way that indicates that Boston is actually excited to see his friend. More so, that he has gotten +1 Information in his notes on Ray’s comings and goings. 

Boston sees Sand and Ray, and he is scheming already. The very first fact we learn about Boston in Only Friends is that he is The Hunter, and while we have primarily seen this in the way that he hunts-for-that-d, Boston is a hunter through and through, he doesn’t just aim and fire, he plays with his prey. He toys with Top and Nick’s emotions to try to manipulate them in to what he wants, and he sees Ray and Sand together here, and the douchebag gears begin to turn. 

But, Boston needs to know what these two are to each other first, so he can figure out his best approach to fucking with the two of them, so he asks:

“What’s with you and Sand?” 

“What? We’re just friends,” Ray says with a smile and a small laugh, like he is trying to brush off any attempt for Boston to think of Sand and him as anything more. Sand is of course, devastated (and it is at this point I would like to make a tangential remark about the brilliance of the cinematography in this entire scene because it frequently moves between blurry and clear, like the camera is having as difficult of a time focusing on any of the characters as the characters themselves are, since they are under the influence). 

Nick, having already interrupted the SandRay foreplay once today, tries to pull Boston along quickly, to give everyone in the apartment some motherfucking privacy, but no no, when it comes to every other person in the world besides himself, Boston does not do privacy. So he cockblocks himself and SandRay and suggests they all party instead. 

The Build Up

There is this moment of awkward tension, that Nick tries to break by saying that Boston is bothering Sand and Ray, but Sand, having just been reminded that Ray does not think of him as anything more than friends, agrees to all hang out together, thus shifting the mood between himself and Ray from sexual to casual. 

And Boston? 

Oh Boston has already won. 

Now, before I get further in to breaking down this episode, I just need to take a minute and just give a huge MASSIVE shout out to Neo motherfucking Trai. He has absolutely been destroying this role, he is clearly having such a good fucking time. But I don’t care about that part (I do but it’s not the relevant aspect here), I care about how much of Boston’s character, Boston’s internal monologue Neo reveals through Boston’s eyes. 

Boston has been watching how Ray and Sand interact with one another, he saw them make out, he saw Ray grab a cookie from Sand’s mouth with his own, and now, he is sitting here, with Nick pressed up against his chest watching Ray flirt with and cling to Sand. That boy has mischief in his eyes, that boy is a hunter and he smells fresh meat. Boston is The Drama, and while he’s in the middle of his own blackmail saga, he’s found new toys to pass the time until the dust settles. 

This is the face of a man who will cause problems on purpose. This is the face of a man who does not give two shits about upsetting the people in front of him. Boston is a miserable, manipulative piece of shit, and he will drag everyone down to his level. 

I am showering praise in Neo’s general direction, anyway, Boston is studying Ray and Sand’s interactions, the way they talk with one another, all the little things that point towards there being some genuine feelings. 

“The cookie’s getting to me”

“I told you to hold back”

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not driving” 

“Can I stay over?”

“More often than this I’m going to start making you pay rent”

“Go ahead”

They aren’t talking like this is a one time thing, they aren’t talking like they are just fuck buddies. The way that Ray and Sand are slightly bickering/scolding each other, the way that Ray just so absentmindedly reaches to put his arm around Sand, it reads a very particular way. Especially when you add on the fact that Nick interrupted them in the kitchen that morning. 

Now, something happens here that could have been good. If Boston was a good person, if Boston actually cared about his friends, if Boston wasn’t such a fucking Masshole. Because Sand has been very obviously dopey and doe eyed for Ray for ages and the lines between lust and love have been blurring heavily for him. But when they started fucking, Ray and Sand both discussed and established the nature of their relationship. Only friends. No love, only sex. Friendship can come from sex. Sand wouldn’t take someone like Ray as his boyfriend (liar). But things have changed since their first hook up, at least for Sand. Sand is catching feelings and Sand has not talked with Ray about how his feelings are shifting. 

And Nick actually opens up the potential for Sand and Ray to have that conversation when he asks “Are you and Ray going out?” 

See, Nick is definitely nasty4nasty when it comes to his desire to be with Boston, and Nick is by no means whatsoever a pure person, the man bugged Boston’s car and kept the recording for fuck’s sake, but he is also not an asshole the way that Boston is an asshole. Nick isn’t asking Sand if he and Ray are going out because he wants to fuck with them, he’s asking because he is genuinely curious, because this ain’t the first time that he’s walked in on them.

But don’t pay attention to Mark Pakin’s body language here, because Nick is obviously drunk, relaxed, content, and curious. Look at Neo. Look at Boston. Look at the way Boston is looking at Nick when Nick asks if they are going out:

And look at the way Boston turns his gaze upon Sand and Ray the second Nick finishes asking the question. Boston is picking apart every action, every expression, every movement between Sand and Ray. Boston is calculating. This is not a dude that is just turning to look at the next speaker in a conversation. He’s staring deep into their souls to figure out how they actually feel about each other so he can decide if one or both of them cares enough about each other to be hurt by him.

So naturally, the next shot we get is Ray drunkenly cozying up to Sand, resting his head on Sand’s shoulder, in a way that feels very couple-y, in a way that feels different to the casual arm Boston throws over Nick like he’s got his prize on a leash. 

“You two talk all lovey-dovey like you are a thing, you know?”

Consider the fact that the second that Nick starts saying “you two talk all lovey-dovey, you know?” Ray peels himself off Sand’s shoulder and stares at Nick. And he’s smiling casually, like he finds the question funny, though he doesn’t fully break physical contact with Sand, still resting his arm across Sand’s shoulders. 

Sand is taken aback for a second, like he’s been caught, but he knows that he is not supposed to be falling for Ray. He knows he isn’t supposed to be wanting a relationship with Ray. He knows that this is not the time or space for a “what are we?” conversation, so he puts on a smile and squeezes Ray’s cheeks and says: 

“Look at his face. Look how squishy he looks. He looks just like a dog my mother has.” (Which we can interpret as Sand saying look at him, we cuddle cause he’s cute, I think of him like a pet). Associating Ray with his mother’s dog for me, feels like a way for Sand to try to get Boston off his back, to put his feelings in alignment with how Boston typically views his hook ups, as pets, as toys, as prey. But Sand’s face betrays him more than Boston’s ever could the very second that Ray says “I’m not a dog and I’m not his boyfriend” 

Sand has a moment of quiet devastation hearing that, even though he SHOULD KNOW BETTER. He should not be so upset about an objectively true statement. Sand may think of Ray as special, and may want to date Ray, and may want Ray to be his boyfriend, but they have never revisited their initial conversation about the nature of their relationship. As far as Ray knows, Sand would never take someone like him to be his boyfriend. Sand is just getting caught up in his feelings and this brief reprieve from the hard and labrous and exhausting life he leads is clouding his judgment.   

And Boston goes in for the kill 

“Ray, I bet Sand likes you. I can tell.”

And here is the question of the hour, a question I personally do not believe we have the full answer to, why the fuck is Boston targeting Sand? (beyond the fact he finds it fun). Boston and Sand clearly know each other, Boston knows Sand well enough to know that the weed he is smoking is not his typical supply. Boston came in to Sand’s home, smoked Sand’s weed, and then went straight for Sand’s throat. 

And Sand is a little mad and more than a little anxious. The way First plays the emotions in this moment is brilliant, you can see all these little moments of Sand feeling put on the spot, the way his mouth moves like he is trying (and failing) to maintain his composure. Like he is looking for an escape route, but can’t find one. Especially because Boston will not let him escape, explicitly calling Sand in to the conversation:

The Blow Up

“So what is it, Sand? Do you like him? My buddy here has both the looks and the dough. His type is hard to come by, you know?”

Sand tries to dodge, by putting on his logical person hat for the first time in what is most likely weeks. “Now that you said that” he starts with Ray literally moving his hand to brush it gently against Sand’s shoulders. “My answer has to be yes now, doesn’t it? But if you really want to know the answer, ask me again when I am sober” 

Sand is willing to let Boston win this, to concede here, to admit to liking Ray as if forced to agree expressly because Boston is poking at him about it. But he will not engage in an important conversation like the one Boston is setting up for him and Ray about what they are to each other when they are under the influence and when they are in public. 

Nick is like “alright”, but that is not enough for Boston. (SERIOUSLY LOOK AT NEO, LOOK AT HOW MUCH FUCKING DISATISFACTION IS BEHIND THOSE GODDAMN EYES! Jojo and Ninew fucking thank you for giving me Neo in this role, he’s been craving complex roles since his time on The Eclipse and I’m glad he’s getting to have some). 

Boston is watching, waiting, wanting to see how Ray reacts to Boston speaking for Sand. Unfortunately for everyone, but Boston especially, Ray does not have the reaction I think Boston is expecting. Instead of Ray getting uncomfortable, instead of Ray pushing himself away from Sand, instead of Ray doubling down on him and Sand not being boyfriends, instead of Ray reacting negatively to the idea that this “not his type” poor boy might actually like him he leans in close, he smiles wide, he teases Sand a little in a way that does not feel cruel. 

So Boston has to escalate. Boston has been stalking his prey in the grass for as long as he has been in this apartment, and now it is time to strike. 

“Even if you really do like Ray, I doubt it will work out between the two of you. Ray’s whole ass is owned by Mew” 

BOOM. Instant kill. Boston just made this entire encounter go from 0 to 100. Especially because (as far as we know), he has no goddamn idea about the dent in Ray’s relationship to Mew, and his realization about how Ray and Mew’s feelings are never going to align. 

Ray did not spend all that time sitting in the bathtub staring at a keychain and a Poor Boy shirt for nothing. Personally, I am uncertain where Ray stands with Sand, I think Ray is probably chasing the endorphins of a good and easy lay. I think he is drawn to Sand’s inherent need to act as a caretaker. But as I’ve said before, Ray uses Sand far more as a service provider than he does a person he wants to make genuine connections with, only recently has he started to open up more and seem more interested in Sand as a person.

But Boston is poking at an extremely sore spot. A spot I don’t think Boston considers as a nuclear option, because I don’t know that Boston is aware that Ray tried to kill himself. I don’t think Boston knows that Mew came and saved his life. I don’t think Boston is truly aware of just how deeply important to Ray Mew is because he seems to be one of the first people to make Ray feel less alone. 

Immediate anger. Boston has struck a nerve, gotten a bullseye. If he actually cared at all for his “friends” and their feelings he could have stopped there. Boston is a voyeur, a photographer, all he does all the time is watch, record, manipulate bodies. He can read people well, but he is cocky and overconfident about his own understanding of the situations that have occurred between people in his social circle. If Boston cared, he would see that Ray just turned on a dime, that the loose, casual, fuzzy, flirty person that was just wrapped around Sand has turned in to a tense, focused ball of rage. ““What the hell are you saying, Ton?” 

“What? Sand doesn’t know you’ve been in love with your best friend for years? But Mew is with Top now. Someone beat you to it, man.” 

So…my Dad has this habit of saying shitty things, and over the years we have made safewords with him to tell him when he is approaching saying something out of pocket and he should change the subject (“pothole”), and for when he has said something out of pocket and should probably stop talking immediately (“sinkhole”). My father consistently blows right through “sinkhole” and continues to dig his hole deeper. Boston reminds me of my father. 

Pothole: “Ray’s whole ass is owned by Mew” 

Pothole: “Mew is with Top now. Someone beat you to it, man”  

I honestly don’t feel like I need to use too much space here on Sand’s reaction, because I read a really good post by @bird-inacage about how this revelation hits Sand hard because he may feel stripped of his dignity and see himself as a fool. 

“What a shame for my pal” 

Shout out to Jojo and co for this shot of Nick. Nick who looks horrified. Nick, who I don’t think has seen this behavior of Boston’s up close. I mean, he knows that Boston has something on Ray and Mew, he didn’t really seem to care at that point. But Nick doesn’t really know Mew, Nick only cares about Top insofar as he is competition for Boston’s attention, he’s not really friends with Ray. But he is friends with Sand. And the implications from the beginning of the episode that Ray has stayed over and hung out with Sand all day multiple times, feels like Nick is at least starting to develop some modicum of care/friendship with Ray. And Nick is sitting there, watching Boston be cruel. Cruel to people that Nick actually cares about. Cruel to people that Nick doesn’t think deserve it, and the wheels are turning, so there isn’t much more he can do about it. 

“Oh wait. My bad. I remember you and Mew making out. Did you take his virginity?” (Sinkhole. Boston should probably shut his goddamn little whore mouth at this point)

“Ton, what the shit are you going on about?” Ray asks, shooting up from the ground and in to a standing position [and lord almighty is Khaotung just a powerhouse actor between the way he is able to physically embody Ray’s anger, and just look and act drunk all the time). This has turned in to a fight, Boston has riled Ray up, Boston has already punished both Ray and Sand at this point. But he has to make everyone around him as miserable as humanly possible in as little time as he can, so: 

“Oh? I saw everything. I took some photos, actually.” (SINKHOLE. No seriously dude you need to shut the fuck up right now). 

“What the hell did you do that for, bastard?” Ray is shifting his weight, Khaotung’s breathing has changed. You can fucking tell Ray’s heart is racing, that a blind rage is seeping in to his bones. Ray is livid.

“What? I just want to keep track of my best friends’ romantic moments. Was I wrong?”

 

(Spoiler alert to those reading this post for the body language breakdown: Boston does not actually give a single flying fuck if he is wrong)

“Keep track?” 

And finally someone punches Boston straight in the mouth! And even still! EVEN STILL Boston cannot shut the fuck up. Boston is righteous in the worst possible way. Boston is hurting everyone around him for the sake of “honesty”, “clarity”, “visibility” in a way that Boston himself in his own life actively avoids. With Nick he keeps their relationship status unclear, with Nick he refuses to get photographed, with Nick he hides the fact that he hooked up with Top. But Boston will air everyone else’s dirty laundry, Boston will record and photograph everyone else’s private moments, Boston will give facts as best as he knows them when literally anyone else is involved:

“Sand has every right to know. Ray is in love with Mew. They even screwed! But good thing you came along, Sand. He needs to get over Mew”  

“What does it have to do with you?” Ray is still fucking pissed, and this is a really important and relevant question to ask. Boston has no place in Ray and Mew’s private business. Boston has no right to record them without their permission. Boston has no right to have this conversation about Ray’s feelings with Sand. And Boston does not answer this question. He will not answer this question, because for Boston everyone else’s business is his, and his business is no one’s. 

Now, do I think Boston is lying about Ray and Mew having sex? No. I think there are actually a number of layers to that statement. I think we are either a) setting up to have a killer conversation about people’s perceptions of sex/people’s perceptions of what counts as sex or b) that Boston fully thinks he saw Ray and Mew do something sexual when they actually didn’t [think Ray throwing up while doubling over Mew so it looks like he’s giving head]. And it is worth noting that Ray doesn’t deny the statement, although this doesn’t necessarily mean anything because there are lots of words and fists and vitriol being thrown around at this point, confirming or denying any sexual relationship with Mew is not really going to do anything to calm this situation. 

“If you’re not in love with him anymore, then why did you get so mad?” Boston asks, and I love that this is phrased as a gotcha! moment. Boston thinks asking why someone got mad enough to punch him in the face after he said he was keeping track of his friends' romantic lives by holding on to pictures he had taken of them in secret is definitive proof that he is correct. Ray got real mad about Boston’s doucheness, and that must mean that Ray is love with Mew. 

And he isn’t totally wrong. We know that Ray is in love with Mew, we know part of why Ray is in love with Mew. We know that Sand is now filling a similar role in Ray’s life as the only person who is willing to take care of him. But this question for me highlights a huge aspect of Boston’s character that I do not think we appreciate enough. 

Boston does not know everything, and he acts like he does. 

Ray is getting so mad at Boston because what Boston is saying is true AND Ray is getting so mad at Boston because Ray almost compromised his relationship with Mew by kissing him when he was sleeping. Ray is in a weird place right now in relation to how he sees Mew and how Mew sees him. At the moment, Mew is patient, kind, and forgiving, and willing to maintain their friendship and accept Ray’s apology as long as Ray can get it through his head that Mew is never going to see him as a potential romantic partner. If Ray cannot do that, Ray loses a very important person in his life. (And we see Mew punch Ray in the promo for next week, my hunch is that Nick tells Ray about Boston and Top and Ray tries to warn Mew about Top and Mew takes that as Ray lying to break them up, but that’s beside the point). 

Boston may be correct that Ray is in love with Mew, but Boston has no idea what the fuck he is talking about when it comes to Ray’s current relationship to Mew. Boston does not know that Mew and Ray are in a rocky relationship right now because of Ray’s feelings. Boston thinks that he is right that Ray is in love with Mew because Ray gets so mad so quick, because he does not understand that a huge part of what is riling Ray up is that Boston is poking at a deep injury he thinks is just a flesh wound. 

And still after Boston has gotten a fist to his face, and swung back; even after he has shoved Nick out of the way so hard Nick fell on to the couch; even after they had blown off some steam and were de-escalating to the point of screaming at each other rather than beating eachother up. Boston 

Still 

Can 

NOT 

Quit

“Oh, are you going to be two-timing?”

Boston is literally just…going in to a house that is not his and lobbing grenades all over the place cause he’s fucking bored. Cause he sets Ray off again, leaving Sand, screaming at Boston and Ray to stop fighting (IN HIS OWN FUCKING HOUSE, AFTER SHARING HIS OWN FUCKING WEED). 

Boston listens to Sand, Boston walks away, Boston goes to Nick’s room. But the look in his eye? 

He is not done with this. Boston is not surprised that Ray got mad, Boston was reveling in Ray’s reaction, but I think Ray’s rage went beyond what Boston had anticipated, and this feels to me like an act of war. 

The Cool Down

Boston and Nick remove themselves from the scene and Ray and all his infinitely perfected coping skills rushes to chug as much alcohol as he can. 

Again, thank you to Jojo and co for spending this amount of time highlighting Ray’s addiction, reminding us that Ray is not just a party boy, but is an alcoholic. Ray’s using alcohol to calm his nerves, possibly to forget what happened, and definitely because he has no idea what else to do but run to the most comforting item he can. 

We cut to the silence of Sand’s bedroom. Sand and Ray laying awkwardly side by side. Ray, to his credit, does try to comfort Sand 

“Hey, don’t listen to what Boston said. If there’s something you want to know, ask me” 

The problem is, while Boston does not have the full context for the depth at which he has just hurt Ray, he is still right. Ray loves Mew, and if Ray didn’t, he would not have gotten mad the way he did. Ray can say whatever he wants here, Ray can ask to be trusted by Sand to tell him what he wants to know. But Sand has seen enough of Ray’s behavior, been jerked around enough by Boston, heard too many times in too short a period that Ray does not consider them anything more than friends, and so Sand is back to boundaries and barriers. 

Sand lost sight of himself, and he fell too quickly for a deeply broken boy that he cannot fix, and who is not emotionally available enough to be a good fit for him right now. 

And God, for as much as Sand exists to be jerked around by the narrative and shit on and used by the wealthier characters, I see why First was picked to play this role (besides the fact that there is no one else but Khao that I think could have done Ray, and it’s hard to kick the GMMTV pair-ups.) We have not even gotten to the height of First Crying Over Problems That Are Partially His Character’s Fault in this show yet, but First is a master at microexpressions, and despite the fact that his face is pretty neutral, that Sand has put on this mask, there is just such a palpable disappointment radiating off of Sand. The shine in his eyes is dulled, I saw someone on tumblr say this really looks like the first time that Sand has seen Ray, looked at him without the rose-colored glasses. 

Sand’s mother loves him, I think he is special to her, but it is hard to feel special to someone you have to take care of. In the montage at the beginning of the episode, Sand is shown working, working, working, working and we don’t really see him interacting with other people who he isn’t providing a service to. He sings at the bar, he seems to enjoy that, he seems to have a good time with Yo and Atom, but he is only that close to them because they pay him to play there. He is providing them a service. The only classmates he is shown interacting with are clients he is selling plum wine to. It’s really possible that Sand’s only friend is Nick, and we don’t see them hanging out that much. 

And, I know there is always some contention about how any and all of these characters feel, how much or how little they are telling the truth, etc. But for me personally, I think about when Ray said that he does care about Sand’s feelings, and I at the time he said it, I don’t think he did, but I think by Episode 5 he is starting to genuinely care. 

Ray is getting better at reading Sand, Ray is trying to have a serious conversation, or at least to open the floor to one, and Sand is sad and so he isn’t saying anything, and Ray is able to tell that something is wrong. Ray wants Sand to talk to him, Ray says Sand’s name multiple times, trying to get him to answer verbally. 

And Sand can’t do it, not if he is looking at Ray, not if he has to actually face the reality of how much of a fool he has been, to fall this deep, to fall this fast, to get it in his head that he and Ray were becoming something more than friends. To actually believe for even a second that someone could think he was special. 

So he closes his eyes, and he takes a deep breath, and he says: 

“Forget it. I’m tired. One more thing…This has nothing to do with me.” 

Who is he talking to here, Ray or himself? 

Sand’s inhale in this moment is deep, it’s weary, unsteady, and sad. Sand is gathering the strength to let go of what he thought he had. He is rebuilding his walls, and placing Ray on the other side of them. He cuts Ray out completely the second he turns his back. And you can just see the guilt all over Ray’s face, you can see all these little bursts of realization moment after moment where Ray realizes that he’s losing Sand now too. Even though Sand is likely more of a consolation prize to him, an easy victim of his puppy dog eyes. 

Alone o’clock is not just for Sand, it’s for Ray too. Boston has won yet again because Boston is a miserable sack of shit lashing out because Mew and Top finally fucked and he has to make it everyone’s problem

Tagging the ephemerality squad: @lurkingshan, @waitmyturtles, @chickenstrangers, @ranchthoughts, @twig-tea, @clara-maybe-ontheroad, @distant-screaming

and my blessed mess crew: @so-much-yet-to-learn, @ginnymoonbeam, @bengiyo, @shortpplfedup, @neuroticbookworm, @emotionallychargedtowel because I want attention :)

[hungermakesmonsters]

Love, Sick Love

Sneak Peek

Plot summary : Working at one of the shadier bars in Brooklyn, you have one rule; don’t mess around with the patrons. Most of them are criminals, dangerous. None more so than Billy Russo, but Billy believes that rules are made to be broken. Especially your rule. One lapse in judgement is all it takes for Billy to decide that you’re his, and he’s never been the sort of man to take rejection well.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] This whole story will deal with dark and smutty themes, including but not limited to stalking.

A/N : It felt weird not to post something on a Friday, so here is the first 1000 words of my next Billy fic. At the end I've put a more exhaustive explanation of the themes and potentially triggering content that might come up during the course of the story so if you're not sure if this fic is for you, I recommend checking that out. Anyway, I'm super excited for this one and I hope to have the first chapter up on the 6th of September. (I'm also testing the tag list with this post, if you want to be added let me know!) .

Sneak Peek

“So, how was your date?”

You were barely through the door when the question was mercilessly thrown your way, the few patrons drinking the afternoon away in Sam’s lifting their heads to glance your way before quickly losing interest. Thankfully, they didn’t care how your date had gone the night before nearly as much as your co-worked Jenna did.

Sam’s wasn’t exactly the sort of place where people cared to get to know each other. The bar had a reputation, the kind of reputation that regularly had cops posted outside the door, waiting to scoop up patrons at closing time, though they rarely dared set foot through the door. And that was why it suited you just fine. Aside from the occasional drunk thinking he might be lucky enough to get in your pants, people didn’t care who you were or where you were from, a courtesy you were more than happy to return.

So, while there was a snicker or two around the bar, no one but Jenna was interested in your love life.

Or, lack thereof. 

You shrugged off your jacket as you made your way around the bar, hanging it along with your purse in the small staff room before heading out to start your shift.

“So, it didn’t go well then,” Jenna stated, eyeing you up and down as you stepped out of the back.

“Hi Jenna.” You said in an overly forced, perky tone, clearly avoiding the question. “How are you, Jenna?”  

“Wow that bad?”

You’d often thought to yourself that Jenna would be better suited working for the FBI instead of tending bar; she knew how to get people to talk and she had a dogged tenacity when it came to things she wanted to know. But, fortunately for the criminal element, Jenna was only interested in gossip, bitching, and information that could be used to her advantage. She was your closest friend and a constant pain in your ass for all of the above reasons.

“Is it that obvious?” You finally relented, giving her a slither of what she craved.

The look she fixed you with was more than enough to answer the question.

“You’re wearing your fuck-me boots and that’s never a good sign,” she said with a knowing grin, obviously impressed with herself. “Wasn’t it the third date? Don’t tell me he left you high and dry...”

All it took was a slight look of disappointment on your face for less than a second for her to have the whole story.

“Oh - oh, okay,” she said and for a single, solitary second, you hoped that she’d drop it. But, of course, she didn’t. “So, how bad are we talking?”

“It wasn’t bad,” you answered, turning away from her, acting like you were checking stock, “just... disappointing.”

“He didn’t make you come?” She asked, loud enough that anyone close enough could hear. Fortunately you weren’t easily embarrassed. “I thought you said he was a doctor? Isn't he supposed to have a good grasp of… anatomy?”

Your eyes rolled as you threw her a glance over your shoulder.

“He’s a physiotherapist, not a gynaecologist.”

Not that that distinction made it any better. Disappointing sex was disappointing sex at the end of the day.

“Are you gonna see him again?” Jenna asked, biting back a laugh.

“And waste another evening on unappealing sex? No thanks. I think I’m just gonna swear off men,” you sighed dramatically, barely holding back a smirk.

“Or,” Jenna started, really drawing out that one little syllable, “maybe you need to stop only going for the safe guys and expecting Captain America to give you what you need.”

Your cheeks heated a fraction as you burst into laughter. It was a good thing that no one who could overhear understood that Captain America was what Jenna liked to call the dildo she’d bought you as a prank secret Santa gift last Christmas on account of it being a red, white and blue, unlicensed Captain America sex toy that claimed on the box to be an exact replica of Steve Roger’s dick.

It had become a private joke between the pair of you, though you’d never dare admit to her just how much mileage you’d actually gotten from the toy.

“Seriously, you need to lower your standards and find a guy who’s willing to just fuck your brains out,” Jenna continued, still utterly oblivious (or perhaps just indifferent) to the half dozen men trying to enjoy their drinks within earshot. “We could go to that biker bar just off the highway again and -”

“Aren’t we barred?” You asked. “Or, more to the point, aren’t you barred?”

“That’s what makes it more fun.”

Again, you rolled your eyes and, finally, you had a look around the bar. It was still quiet, but it wouldn’t stay that way for long. As soon as it started getting dark out, the place would be packed, wall to wall.

That was when you noticed him, sat at the end of the bar, slightly hunched over and with no drink in front of him. You looked to Jenna and gave a nod in his direction, and she shrugged in response, leaving you to deal with him. If he’d overheard any of your conversation with Jenna, he didn’t seem interested. For a moment, you hung back, not wanting to interrupt whatever was going on in his head but, finally, you forced your customer service smile to lips and made your approach.

“Hey, what can I get you?” You asked.

When he looked up your heart stuttered. His face was littered with scars, but they weren’t the cause of the violent pounding in your chest, in fact, after first glance you barely noticed them. No, it was his dark eyes and the way he looked at you, the way he looked through you. For a few seconds you dared to believe you might drown in his gaze (and that maybe you’d enjoy it).

Content and general warnings going for this whole fic : while I’m going to put appropriate TWs at the start of any chapter that require them as usual, I wanted to give a general overview of what this fic might contain so people can make an informed decision whether or not to engage with this fic. If you are uncomfortable with any of the following, please consider not reading. Ultimately this is a Dark Romance and will contain themes like stalking and intimidation. At no point will it contain non-con perpetrated by Billy on the reader character, however there will be moments of unwanted kissing and physical contact, but it won’t get any worse than that. There will be explicit smut (we’re talking rough and dirty) and Billy’s actions/behaviour at times will be pretty gross. And there will be non-graphic discussions/allusions to non-con and murder, with regards to character’s pasts (i.e. Billy’s assault by Arthur) later on in the story. 

At its heart this is going to be a dark and toxic romance and it should go without saying that I don’t condone this sort of behaviour in real life. If you do not enjoy or feel you will be triggered by the aforementioned themes, please give this fic a miss.

(I'm just testing the tag list, but if you want adding/removing let me know!)

Tag List : @xxxsweetcarolinexxx @sweetserendipity65 @dreadfulxives18 @snowkestrel @ladyblacky

@readingabouthim @cheshirecat484 @broadwaybabe18 @oliviaewl

[starscabaret]

How would Cynthia react to a love sick puppy dog reader that admired her so much as a first year?

Lovesick Student Introduction

pairing: yandere! Graduate Student Fem Cynthia 📚 x Fem Reader

summary: you are in her class

warnings : mentions of a minor, no actual minors, this is wlw, sapphic, gay, all that!

Authors note : yall are so smart with your request I love that !! check out my oc profiles to learn more about cynthia pookies !

Cynthia enjoyed graduate school. She was very excited to be furthering her education. She also worked in a field she loved and was very passionate about. The professors she worked under were very kind and had her best interest in mind. It was obvious she would go far after obtaining her master’s degree. 

There were some parts of grad school she enjoyed much less than others. At her university, all of the graduate students were required to be Graduate Teaching assistants. Her job was to help a professor with their class and build a bridge between students and faculty. She graded papers, held office hours, and occasionally led the lecture. 

Cynthia knew that just a few months ago she was an undergraduate but she still couldn’t help but find some of the undergraduates she assisted complete nuisance. Sending her emails in the early hours of the morning, asking simple questions that were obviously on the syllabus, crying about their grades during office hours, the list went on. 

But she would grin and bear it, at the end of the day she had to. But then there was you. An undergraduate freshman. You looked so naive and full of life. So excited about college. Something that had been sucked away from Cynthia after 4 grueling years of undergrad. She wouldn’t exactly consider you a nuisance like the other students. But you were a nuisance in other ways.

You stirred something in her she hadn’t felt since junior high school. She didn’t know what it was but she didn’t exactly like it… or hate it. The only way she could describe it was like the first time she saw Megan Fox in the movie Jennifer’s Body. She came out as a lesbian the next day. 

But you were forbidden… you were technically her student for Christ’s sake. And not only that but you were a freshman … how old were you? 18? what if you were 17? ugh gross, she couldn’t even think of that. No matter what a relationship between you two would be completely inappropriate, no matter your age, and no matter how strong her desires were. 

But you didn’t make it easy. You came to all of her office hours and stayed the whole time no matter what you were doing in class that week. You would sit at her desk making sure to lean over it so she could see right into your cleavage and ask her, “Is this good Miss. Cynthia?”. Of course, it was good, you had a perfect score in the class, she doesn’t know why you continue to come to office hours. And she told you to stop calling her that. It was just Cynthia not “Miss.Cynthia”, that stirred something in her she wasn’t sure she could control.  

This wasn’t your only attempt at tempting her. You signed every email to her off with “Can’t wait to see you next class, Love Y/N”. As the semester went on it became increasingly obvious you were a love-sick puppy for her. You only came to class for her approval and to see her, hoping she’d see you in that way. You only did well in the class because you wanted her to see you as smart and mature. 

You had no clue that Cynthia more than saw you in that way. She was strong and stoic. She would ward off your every advance with kind professional language. But inside she wanted nothing more than you make you hers. 

[kangals]

some of it is definitely just Cope but I am, begrudgingly, grateful that Stellina and I have ended up having so much time together on our own. going from 2 dogs down to 1 (and the reverse) is a bigger shift in dynamic than I think a lot of people would expect.

obviously i love Stellina and we’ve always had some sort of bond, but my suspicion - which I now think was correct - was that she always was more attached to Boone than she was to me. it was very stark in the first few months after his passing what a big hit her confidence took. a lot of her more silly behaviors - the honking at the cat, wriggling around on the ground, sleeping belly-up, demand barking - immediately vanished. and it wasn’t that she wasn’t still an overall happy and content dog, but that she was just… less loudly so. she started choosing to sleep in her upstairs crate that was far out of the way of activity. she got exceptionally nervous around the cat and started getting fearful of doorways. just small behaviors like that that were easy to disregard in the moment but now looking back seem like a much more obvious picture.

it’s on me, too. while i took her on plenty of solo outings, we’ve definitely always had a more shallow bond than I had with Boone. and there’s lots of reasons (I had him much longer, he was an anxious one-person dog, he liked physical touch more). and it always kind of felt like while I “spoke” fluently with Boone, Stellina was more of a “well it gets the point across” proficiency instead. it’s really only in the last month or so that it seems like things have finally fallen into place. that she’s back to being wiggly and mischievous and loudly so. and that I’m starting to look at her and call her and feel that same bone-deep fondness as I used to have with a very different dog. a little echo of love from another time.

It took me years to get to this point with Boone too - I always used to say that I liked him better every year. and I know at some point down the road I’ll be repeating this again, with a different loss and a different bond. but it’s just been a nice realization to see that both of us will come out the other side and be better for it.

[fang-and-feather]

Ikemen Vampire - Arthur x Reader - Family Fic

For Day 5 of 12 Days of Arthur hosted by @oigimi and @scummy-writes

This week was a nightare for writing, i'm glad I at least finished this, as improvised as it was

IkeVamp Masterlist / General Masterlist / AO3 Link

“When will dad get here?” Your daughter asked impatiently, sitting on the floor by your feet, Vic resting his head on her lap.

“He’ll be here soon, dear.” You ruffled her hair, hoping Arthur wouldn’t take too long.

I still took a few more minutes before the door opened, Vic rushing to it.

“Down, Vic!” Arthur said firmly, trying to calm the dog that jumped at him, as if to get to the box in his arms. “Down!” Vic finally listened, sitting back, but still staring at the box but he was replaced by the little girl, that darted from her place by your side to cling to him.

“Daddy!” She hugged him, then looked up, eyes shinning as she noticed the box. “You really got me a pet!”

“Why do you think so, dear? Maybe it’s a toy. Or a gift for your mother.”

“There are holes in the box, like mom made when we brought that bird to the forest. And you already got mom a gift, that’s why you got home late last week.” She explained.

Arthur looked so proud when she said that. You knew he loved the fact that your daughter was so observant at such young age. Maybe it was just a phase, in which she was awestruck with him and his skills, and trying to copy him. But she was smarter than other kids her age, especially in things that required logic, attention and observation, and he always got so proud when she showed that.

“Smart like her father.” You laughed. “She’ll be outsmarting you before you know it.”

“Is that the confidence you have in me, luv?” Arthur should know you were teasing, still he clearly didn’t like the notion that anyone could outsmart him, not even his own daughter, because he was definitely pouting.

“Don’t worry, daddy.” Your daughter chimed in. “You will always be my champion.”

“Well, thank you, dear.”

“But mom said good students get better than their teachers.” She added, making you laugh harder.

She wasn’t even the one you told that to, but apparently she heard your conversation and took your words seriously.

Arthur looked like he wanted to protest, but all that noise seemed to wake the dog in the box, who had been quiet until now, as he started to bark and try to push the box open. Vic stood up, barking back.

“I think we all got a little out of track here, and someone is getting impatient.”

“True.” Arthur crouched down to get to his daughter’s eye level, extending the box to her. “Merry Christmas, little robin.”

The little girl sat on the floor, opening the box.

“Here, little one.” She told the puppy that poked his head out. He barked at her and she reached out to touch him a little hesitantly, but smiled in delight when he let her do so, tail wagging, before she picked him up. “I think it likes me!” She exclaimed, excitedly.

The puppy was the same race as Vic, but in a different coloration.

“And you like him?”

“I love him! Thank you, Dad!”

Vic had approached her, sniffing the new puppy, who barked at him. Vic barked back, then walked back to Arthur.

“Seems like Vic approves, too.”

The girl let the puppy down, following him as he started to explore the room.

“What will be his name?” You asked her.

“Sherlock.” She declared, without hesitation.

You tried not to laugh at the obvious shock on Arthur’s face. Not even he was prepared for that turn of events. He would probably regret agreeing to get her a dog for a while.

“Who told you about Sherlock, dear.”

“I saw it in one of dad’s papers, then I asked uncle Sebas.” The puppy ran up to Vic, barking as if calling to him, and your daughter followed, finally noticing Arthur. “Daddy, are you okay?”

Arthur closed his eyes, gulped, took a deep breath and managed to smile. Not finding the courage to complain at his little girl.

“I’m fine, little robin.”

She nodded happily and scooped Sherlock up, before running to the door.

“Where are you going?” You asked her.

“Show him to Vincent and Lis.”

“Don’t run on the stairs, and don’t lose him.” You shouted as she ran to meet her friends, with Vic following her out.

“Okay, mum!” She shouted back.

Shaking your head, you turned back to Arthur.

“Seems like she already won this round. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m not fine, exactly.” Arthur admitted in a low tone. “Of all things… But you underestimate me, luv.” He added with a weak grin. “This is not exactly a loss. Sometimes you have to make sacrifices to win a game, that’s part of the strategy.”

“Strategy for what? The only time you brought up a game regarding her was last year.”

“And you really thought I would let it end in a draw like that?”

You laughed, nuzzling into his chest.

“You’re impossible. But you know you didn’t need to go that far, right? She would have understood if you talked to her.” Arthur tensed a little, and you tried to pull away to look at him, but he hugged you tighter. “Don’t tell me the great detective didn’t figure out how emotionally mature his daughter really is?”

“Maybe. But you don’t take uncalculated risks when you want to win.”

“I’ll leave it at that.” You said, laughing. You knew Arthur didn’t want to admit he was unable to say no to his little girl. After all, it defeated the purpose of the game if you didn’t know it was still ongoing. But you would let him have this moment, at least for this day. “Merry Christmas, Arthur. I love you.”

Arthur finally pulled away to face you.

“Love you too, bird. Merry Christmas.” You two kissed, enjoying each other’s warmth a little longer while you could. “A shame we can’t continue this right now, luv. Let’s get your gift then, shall we?”

Tag List: @tele86, @nightghoul381, @natimiles

If you want to be tagged on future writings, you can reply to this post or send me a message

IkeVamp Masterlist / General Masterlist

[newtonsheffield]

Molly we need more DILF Daddy Sharma and Uni student Mary!! 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏. We love DILF Daddy Sharma he charmed Mary with cheeky little Kate and we love that for him! 🔥🔥🌶️🌶️🫣🫣

Look, the story of Mile High Mary and Tharman is a little scandalous. I’m not sure if you can handle it.

Mary’s mother told her that her father’s work friend Tharman was looking for someone to watch his daughter, an allegedly adorable three year old while he worked. He was looking for a Nanny, essentially. And Mary was still on break from Uni so she thought she’d put herself up for the job. And from the moment she met Tharman Sharma, she knew she shouldn’t have.

He was handsome, and her mother had made him seem like he was her father’s ago. Middle aged and balding and he… definitely wasn’t that. He was handsome with his dark hair curling against his forehead and his neatly trimmed beard and his voice made something shiver down her spine when he said her name.

“And… when you go back to university?”

Mary blinked at him across the table at the cafe, “That’s not for a few months, And my schedule can generally be rearranged as long as I’m not doing clinical work.”

“You’re studying to be a…” He seemed as though he was trying to remember what her father might have told him and Mary was suddenly acutely aware of the fact that he was humouring her, this man, doing a favour for her father. “Dentist?”

“An optometrist.” She corrected, “The blue hair will disappear when I go back to uni. It was… a drunken dare.” She suddenly realised that probably wasn’t the kind of thing she should tell a man who she was hoping would entrust her with the care of his child. “I… it was just after finals. I don’t like… have a drinking problem.”

To her surprise Tharman smiled, “I remember what it was like to be 19.”

“I just turned twenty.”

“My mistake.” He sighed, scratching his beard. “Look, your Dad says you’re pretty responsible and I trust him so… can you be here tomorrow at eight for an interview with the boss?”

“Aren’t you the boss?”

“You would think so.” He chuckled, “But the boss is yay high.” He gestured to a spot near his knee, “And she answers to Katie.”

There was something so sweet in it. something that made her smile. “I can be here.”

Mary was nervous, when she made her way back to his house the next day, and he caught her off guard when he smiled at her as the door opened. “Come on in, she’s just through here.”

she was beautiful. The minute Mary saw her something in her softened. She looked up at the sound of her name and her dark curls fell in her eyes as she smiled. “Is this my new friend?”

“Maybe it is.” He chuckled, “This is Mary.”

Katie peaked around her father, “She’s pretty.”

“Thank you, Katie.” Mary hummed, sitting beside her and the array of stuffed dogs. “What are we playing?”

“We’re playing Dog Fairies.”

“Oh of course.” Mary hummed as though it were obvious, settling into the game as it was explained to her.

__________

“He;s just… so fucking hot!” Mary whined to her friend as they sat in the bar. “Do you think it’s possible to get pregnant from just a look?”

Her friend rolled her eyes, “You need to get this guy out of your system.”

It was harder than she thought it would be. Not the job. Katie was so sweet. So gentle and bubbly and eager to do and learn as much as she could. It was just… hard to be around Tharman. He was gentle, proud of his daughter, every single drawing and craft project littered the walls of his office when she took Kate to see him for lunch. And she’d tried not to let it become habit, having coffee with him at the end of the day but it had. He told her about how he’d lost his wife, and how desperately he wanted Kate to grow up happy and loved. Safe. And it made her chest ache.

“Okay but consider this,” Mary said, “He was running late the other day and when I got there he was in a towel, fresh from the shower and I was ready to drop to my knees and call him Daddy.”

“You’re disgusting.” Emily grimaced, “That man is just… trying to live his life.”

“Oh, he flirts with me plenty.”

“Does he?”

The problem was she wasn’t sure. She wasn’t sure if him offering to drive her home when it got late was something. She wasn’t sure if the way his jaw tensed when she mentioned having a date at the weekend was jealousy or him trying not to here about the daughter of his friend getting laid.

Emily took her silence as fact. “He’s just trying to raise his adorable daughter. And you’re there, wearing out your vibrator.”

Mary scoffed, “I haven’t worn it out. I actually just got a new one in his honour.”

“Foul. Fucking foul.”

_______________

She shouldn’t have been thinking about it. But something had been churning petulantly in her stomach since he asked her if she could stay late tonight. His bother in laws were taking him out, he said.

She loved spending time with Kate. Of course she did. The little girl cuddled up on her chest as they watched The Little Mermaid eating popcorn and chocolate until she fell asleep. But now Kate had gone to bed. And it was past 11, and her father was nowhere to be seen. And mary couldn’t do anything but think about someone else’s hands on him.

Keys sounded in the hall and the front door opened and closed and Mary sat up, picking up the book she’d abandoned ages ago. He looked tired when he came into the living room, his hair rumpled, already rolling his sleeves.

“Hey.” She hoped her voice sounded casual, but she knew it didn’t. “Good night?”

“it was… weird.” Tharman sighed, scratching his beard. “Do you drink?”

“I ah…” This was a bad idea. Surely it was a bad idea.

“Right. Of course you do. Blue hair. Have a drink with me.”

She followed him into the kitchen where he sat down two glasses on the counter with a clack and filled them with whiskey. Mary cleared her throat, “It was that good huh?”

Tharman sighed, taking a long drag “My brother in laws think I need to… get out more. That I need to… clear my head I guess.”

“Didn’t work.”

“It didn’t.” He groaned, “You’re young, why is dating weird now?”

Mary laughed, “How old are you?”

“I’m 31.” He nodded, “May as well be 150 because it’s been so long since I… dated.”

Mary took a drink from her glass and it burned in her chest, “Since you dated, or since you fucked someone?”

His mouth fell open in surprise and panic flickered through her chest but he laughed, the noise warm and solid and nice. “I haven’t had sex since Kate was born. Since my wife… died.”

“Three years is a long time.”

He looked at her and his eyes darkened and the words seemed to slip from his lips unbidden, “How long as it been since you had sex?”

Mary’s stomach dropped.

“I’m so sorry.” He said quickly, “That was so inappropriate. Fuck!”

“It’s been a few months.” She said casually, “Now that I’m working I’ve been having a slow dating life.”

It was almost true.

Tharman nodded and his knees brushed hers. “See you’re… a fucking beautiful woman though. I’m a guy that has sticky handprints on my jeans and when I say I have a three year old daughter women immediately shut down.”

“Oh, because you;re so hideous.” Mary rolled her eyes, “You’re a hot young Dad. An engineer. Any woman would be lucky to date you.”

“The evidence tonight suggests otherwise.”

“Well, the right person wouldn’t;t see Kate as a problem. The right person would love Kate because she’s sweet and beautiful and adorable and they’d be lucky to be part of that.”

Neither of them spoke, for a long moment he didn’t say anything and then he sighed and his fingertips brushed the bare skin of her thigh. An accident as he reached for his drink.

“I’m supposed to be clearing my head. Not this.”

“From what?” Mary could barely breathe.

Tharman sighed, “Just… Fuck. I’m a mess.” He laughed, “Why did I think anyone would want to date this?”

“Plenty of people would.”

“Know any?”

Tension rippled through the room, and Mary didn’t stop to think. She reached out and crashed her lips against his.

He gasped against her lips but he didn’t pull away, his tongue tangled with hers and his hands gripped her hips, pulling her firmly against his chest.

“I really shouldn’t do this.” He gasped, his hands tugging her legs up around his waist. “I told myself I wouldn’t do this to you.”

“Yes, you should. Yes you fucking should.”

______________

And it would have been fine, surely it would have, were it not for the fact that her father walked in on them two weeks later. Both of them bare, his arms cradling her as they moved together. And everything exploded.

“What the fuck are you doing to my daughter?!”