#jacob please bring your a-game

[niallsdaya]

Plot details of Saltburn! I can’t wait until we get a release date! I honestly thought Rosamund and Barry were the leads, but I’m still super excited!

[allbark-no-bite]

which lover will i get today.

elvis presley x reader (wc: 1.2 k)

summary: there were two sides to elvis presley, and you never knew which one you were going to get

warnings: toxic relationship, implied age gap (just mentioned that reader is younger)

authors note: after watching saltburn and priscilla, i can say that i’ve been converted to a jacob elordi fan. he’s a ridiculously tall freak of a man and i love him.

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You see him before he sees you, striding in through the front door of Graceland on those goddamn long legs that carry him twice as fast to the bottom of the stairs.

"Where's my girl?" he barks out, you being the first thing that has his attention about as soon as he enters the house. He stops at the first step, allowing you to meet him a few steps up from the bottom. For once you're just about the same height.

"Hello." You greet him, your voice quiet. It's timid, almost like you're uncertain of whether or not he's even remembered you, like maybe you've just dreamed this whole thing up and he's not really madly in love with you.

At your quietness, his aura changes, and he dims himself a little just for you. As if reminding himself that you're not one of his cousins or the Mafia. You're his girl, his Satnin. His expression becomes more pleased than exuberant, his smile faintly subdued.

"Hello," he says softly, copying your greeting with an air of teasing. Because it's so preciously innocent. Because hello is such a laughable greeting after not seeing each other for months. Because it's absurd how much he adores you.

"Hello," he then repeats, firmer this time. Because Hello, I missed you. Hello, where have you been all my life? Hello, I love you.

Elvis closes the distance between the two of you, one of his large hands pressing into your back to bring you into his chest, the other on your waist. His mouth finds yours, gentle and sweet, smiling privately into the kiss. Not really even kissing you properly because there will be plenty of more opportunities to kiss you in the future.

And he's just so charismatic that you don't even care.

But there were two sides to him.

And you never knew which one you were going to get.

That was the one thing that you kept having to remind yourself about him.

It was so easy to forget all of his faults when a majority of the time he was so utterly boyish. He still had to be reminded to pick up after himself, still had to be reprimanded for rough housing, still cried for his mama sometimes. He was fascinated by everything, and he had a new interest all of the time. First it was the books, then the guns, then the horses, then the sailing cap that he took to wearing at every opportunity.

The two of you had gone up to bed early, excusing yourself to a disgruntled Dodger back at the dinner table. You race up to Elvis' bedroom, both of you giggling like little kids as Elvis fumbles up the stairs after you.

Once inside his bedroom, you shriek when he catches you, his arms wrapping around you from behind. He lifts you off of your feet and hefts you onto the lavish spread of his bed, laughing all the while.

When you manage to sit up, brushing your hair from your face, Elvis is already turned back around, a camera in one hand and the previously mentioned captain's hat perched precariously a top his head. With the world at the tips of his fingers, everything was a game to him. He was always trying to find new ways to make life exciting, and if that meant playing dress up then he was all for it. Therefore his donning of the out of place hat came as no surprise to you.

What does surprise you is his tumbling onto the bed, and you have to duck to avoid his flailing limbs.

"C'mere," he laughs, one hand wrapping around your ankle and the other clutching the polaroid camera. He stands, dragging you towards him across the top of the bed until your hair is fanned out behind your head. Lifting the camera and squinting, he snaps a picture before you're kicking your foot from his grasp.

"Oh no you don't, lil' girl." You wheeze in laughter when he drops the camera and catches hold of your other leg, and you find yourself hanging upside down, your head just barely brushing the bed.

"O...o-kay! Okay!" You exclaim through the bubbles of laughter that escape your throat, trying and failing to hold down the bottom of your baby pink skirt. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please, let me down!"

You tumble back onto the bed with a thunk when Elvis releases your feet from his grasp.

"You're a piece of work, Satnin. You know that?" he says with a huff, fixing the hat that had begun to fall from his head. It's to little avail because it falls off completely when you grab a pillow, swinging it at him before he can dodge it. A scoffing laugh erupts from him at your challenge, and he aimlessly shoves you away so that he can grab his own pillow.

Weak from laughing, you swing at him again, completely missing. Elvis lashes out with his pillow, and it barely catches you, giving you enough of a chance to wind up and swing at him again.

It's harder this time, as hard as a pillow can be, and you suppose it catches him off guard because the smile drops from his face and he shoves you back hard, so obviously not playing anymore. It doesn't hurt as much as it should, his hands on you, but maybe it's your own surprise that prevents you from feeling anything.

"Not so goddamn rough," he snaps, breathing hard.

You've heard him yell plenty before. At his cousins, the Colonel, his daddy, but never you. Especially not at you. It causes something sickening in the pit of your stomach that you don't like.

The shock has quickly evaporated and now you're left cowering at the end of his bed, hugging the pillow close to your chest. You don't know where they've come from but suddenly there are tears burning at your eyes. Embarrassed by his rebuke and angry at yourself for being upset, your voice cracks. "That's not fair. You can't play without winning."

"I don't wanna play with a goddamn man," he retorts, already removing himself from the bed. Elvis roughly tosses the pillow that he had been wielding onto the ground.

You see it then in his narrowed and glinting blue eyes. Not exactly anger but something else. Hurt, insecurity, fear. Then it's gone with the slam of the door.

You wait for the sound of his retreating footsteps down the stairs before you take in a shuddering breath, your chest feeling as if you hadn't been breathing the entire time, and quickly wipe at your eyes. It only made him angrier when you cried.

Certain that there's black eyeliner and mascara smeared under your eyes, you shakily stand up from the bed and go over to the bathroom mirror. There is. You look like a feral raccoon and immediately set to scrubbing it away. Once you've finished, your eyes are still glassy and your nose red, but at least you can't tell if your face is wet from the water or the tears.

The door opens behind you and then his hands are sliding around your middle, Elvis' towering figure a looming presence at your back. His head dips and his lips ghost your exposed shoulder, sponging soft, barely there kisses.

You close your eyes and you let him. This is as close to an apology that you’ll get.

It was just a moment. One moment of misjudgment. One single bad moment.

You’ll spend the rest of your life forgiving his bad moments.

[zegrasdrysdale]

Request for a Matt Rempe and Reader smut please?

Like you show up to the locker room after his game in his jersey and a mini skirt in front of all the guys and then his reaction? 🥺

Thank you!

[ always the plan ] m. rempe

➾ paring : Matt Rempe x fem!reader

➾ summary : Matt's girlfriend surprises him in the locker room when she flies in to watch game one of the Stanley Cup playoffs at MSG and he can’t contain himself after he sees what she wore to the game

➾ warning(s) : smut ! one use of y/n, semi-public sex (in a closet), fingering, p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), nicknames during sex

➾ author note : made a veryyyy slight change in the request in that the majority of this takes place before the game but other than that, i kept it to what anon wanted

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Honestly, she wasn't sure if she was going to make it to New York in time for the game when her flight from California got delayed a little bit. She probably should've flown out the day before, but she didn't want to disturb Matt if he needed the quiet to prepare for playoffs to start.

Plus, she could surprise him this way, no matter what the outcome is. If he wants to go out to celebrate a win with the team then she'll ask where they're going, but she'll also be there to make sure he's okay if they lose as well.

Right now though, Matt thinks she'll get in very early in the morning and long after the game ends after a short trip to Anaheim that work sent her on. Little does he know that her flight will land a little after five in the evening at JFK and she'll be standing with the other Ranger families and girlfriends that came to see their boys play in the playoffs.

She has no idea what his reaction is going to be when he sees her for the first time in about four days. As long as he controls himself when she surprises him when she pops into the locker room before the game since she'll get there a little early.

Before the announcement comes through to buckle up and put seats back up in the upright position, she sneaks off to the bathroom to get changed into what she's wearing for the game.

A white away Rangers jersey with Matt's name and number on the back paired with a black mini skirt is her outfit of choice. She tucks the front of the jersey into the skirt so it doesn't look like a dress. She zips up her black thigh high boots that add a couple of inches to her height since her boyfriend is six-foot-seven.

The announcement that they're about to begin their decent into JFK airport comes just as she leaves the bathroom. She quickly makes her way back to her seat to buckle up and get her seat back into the upright position.

Once the plane lands at quarter after five, she practically runs into JFK with her bag. She picks up her suitcase and orders an Uber to Madison Square Garden. It's a fifty minute drive to the arena so she pulls up to the arena a little after six. The game doesn't start for another two hours but she knows the players are all here already to do their pregame routines and whatnot.

Is surprising her boyfriend before the biggest game of his career probably not a good idea? Probably, but she'd like him to know that she's in the crowd for said biggest game of his career. She was in the stands for the Stadium Series game when he made his debut and she should be in the stands for his first playoff game.

The Uber drops her off on the sidewalk outside and she texts Jacob's wife that she's there. Kelly is the one helping her get into the building before everyone else does so she can surprise Matt. She comes out to get her and bring her inside, getting her new security credentials so it's easier for her to get in before the general public.

"Is everyone here already?" she questions when she gets into the building. "Team-wise, I mean."

"Yeah," Kelly replies as they make their way down to the hallways that contain the home locker room, medical training room, equipment room, and the gym that players use. It's not the biggest gym but it has a handful of machines that the players use after practices. "Jacob wanted the team here early. Something about team bonding without distractions and getting some extra workouts in. Don't worry though, he's aware of your plan and supports it because Matt's been in a mood over the last few days while you've been gone."

She grins as they finally enter the hallway. Team personnel wander around the hallways as they prepare for the game. When they arrive at the locker room, she can hear voices inside. Laughter as the boys get ready for the game in their own way. She looks up at Kelly and raises her eyebrows.

"Am I really allowed to go in there?" she asks. "What if they're getting changed or something?"

Jacob's wife laughs and shakes her head when she rests her hand on the doorknob. "They're not getting into their gear yet," she replies. "A lot of them actually just got here not too long ago themselves. They're just having fun and talking to get rid of whatever stress or anxiety they're feeling about tonight."

There's another burst of laughter and she sighs. Kelly pulls open the door and takes a step inside. The conversation dies and she steps into the locker room. Her eyes scan the room until they land on Matt. His head is down and his AirPods are in so he has no idea what's going on around him.

All eyes are on the two of them when they walk into the room. Jacob greets his wife with a kiss before he looks at the rookie Ranger. "Hey, Rempe," he calls to get Matt's attention. "Look who popped in to see you before the game."

Matt finally lifts his head up and looks toward his captain. His eyes widen when they land on her. She smiles when he gets up from the bench in front of his locker. Jacob and Kelly step to the side as he approaches the trio. He leans down and envelopes her in a hug. She wraps her arms around his middle and the two stand there like that for a couple seconds.

"So this is your girl, huh?" someone says behind Matt. He backs away and pulls out his AirPods before turning to the team. The voice came from Jimmy Vesey, whose locker is right across from Matt's.

This is really the first time she's actually seeing most of these guys off the ice. She hasn't met a majority of the team because most of them don't really go out after games because they have families. Matt has only been on the Rangers since getting called up in February so it makes sense that she hasn't met a lot of them.

He leaves an arm draped around her shoulders and looks around the room. "Uh, yeah," he replies. "This is (Y/N). We've been together for a little bit. She was at the Stadium Series game when I debuted. Baby, this is everyone."

A couple of the guys introduce themselves to her, but she's focused on the fact that Matt won't stop looking at her. He looks her up and down, and isn't being discreet about it either.

Once everyone has given their introductions, she turns to Matt and looks up at him. "Is there somewhere a little more private we can go?" she asks, voice low so only he can hear her question. He nods and takes her hand.

The pair slip out of the locker room and into the hallway. Matt looks down both ends of the hallway before deciding which way to go. He pulls her behind him until he reaches a door. Matt pulls it open and steps inside. She's right behind him. He presses her against the door and clicks the lock.

She glances around him to see that he pulled them into a closet. She can't help but smile up at her boyfriend. "You really pulled me into a closet like we're in high school again?" she teases.

"You're lucky I didn't bend you over in that damn locker room in front of everyone," Matt replies, eyes dropping to look her up and down. A blush coats her cheeks. "I don't know if this was your plan or what but fuck, baby. First time I lay eyes on you in nearly five days and you're wearing this."

With a small smile, she slides her arms under his Rangers hoodie and wraps them around his torso. "It's always my plan to wear your name and number to games," she innocently tells him.

One of Matt's hands slides down her waist to her butt. His fingers play with the hem of her tight mini skirt. "That's not what I meant and you know it," he replies, voice dropping a handful of octaves.

She giggle, "How about you tell me so I know for sure?"

“Or I could show you,” he says. “Because showing you would be a lot more fun than just telling you.”

She sucks her bottom lip between her teeth before Matt leans down and claims her lips in a heated kiss. The two of them haven’t seen each other in a few days so this is expected.

Hot kisses are exchanged while hands roam each other’s bodies over their clothes. She feels heat pool in the pit of her stomach and between her legs.

Matt’s hand dips under her skirt. She gasps into the kiss that follows, and Matt takes full advantage. He licks into her mouth and she grips his hoodie to steady herself. He pushes her underwear aside and runs his fingers through her slick folds.

“Oh- Matt,” she mumbles against his lips. “Holy shit.” He grins and slips a finger into her. She leans back against the door because she doesn’t trust her legs anymore to hold her up. Matt’s hand still rests on her waist but that can only do so much if her legs turn to jelly.

He curls his finger in a “come here” motion and she slips against the door a little bit. She throws her head back and hits it on the door. She hisses and Matt immediately brings his hand up to cup the crown of her head. His eyes are wide and he looks over her face.

“Jesus,” he says. “Are you okay? Can you stop trying to give yourself a concussion?”

She laughs and starts pushing his hoodie to get it over his head. He shakes his head and helps her get the fabric over his head. She drags her nails down his chest and toned stomach. Matt leans back in and captures her lips in a hot kiss. He continues his motion and adds a second finger.

The moan that bubbles from her throat is quieted by his lips on hers. He swallows the sound. She slithers a hand between them and starts palming him over his compression shorts. The shorts do nothing to hide the bulge that has formed since they found their way into the closet. It’s her turn to swallow the gasp that follows.

Her legs are already shaking and she’s very close to her pending orgasm. She lets out soft pants against his lips and grips onto the fabric of his hoodie.

“Matt,” she whines. “Close. Need you.”

“Come here,” he tells her. Matt breaks the kiss and pulls her toward what looks like an old couch. It’s not torn or dirty so she hopes that it’s just not in use at the moment and there isn’t an infestation of bugs in the cushions. He spins so he falls onto the couch first. She crawls onto his lap and presses his back against the couch.

Matt pushes the fabric of the skirt up and over her ass so it pools around her waist. She grins and traces his jaw as he pushes his shorts down. His dick springs out and rests against his stomach. She takes it in her hand and pulls her panties to the side so she can line herself up with him.

“You gonna ride me, pretty girl?” he questions with big, hopeful eyes.

“I don’t want you to hurt yourself before your big game,” she replies. “You lay there and relax. I’ve got you.”

He gives her a big smile and she quickly kisses the smile. Then she lowers herself onto his dick. She hums as the familiar feeling of his dick filling her as she slowly sinks into him. Matt’s hands fly to her waist to keep her steady and keep her from falling off his lap.

Once he’s completely inside her, she gives herself a quick second to adjust before she begins to roll her hips. He bites his lip and looks up at her as she falls into a rythym. Her hands slide up under his hoodie and she rests them on his stomach to keep herself balanced.

In the five days that she’s been away from home, she’s been craving this. She’s been craving the feeling of Matt inside her, touching her, kissing her.

He was so focused on the end of the regular season that he rarely touched her, and she respected that. She’ll also respect if he doesn’t want to do this again as long as the Rangers are in the playoffs.

Right now though, she’s very grateful that she’s riding him on a couch in a closet in Madison Square Garden. It isn’t the most ideal place to have sex because of how high the chances are that someone will try to get into this closet but it’ll work for the moment. Especially since the door is locked. Sometimes, you just have to take chances.

She begins to lose her rythym and Matt takes over. He wraps his arms around her waist and starts to fuck up into her. Her fingers find a home in his air. His lips are on her neck right under her ear.

“Oh my God,” she gasps. “Fuck, Matt.”

“That’s what I’m doing, baby,” he teases. She playfully rolls her eyes and lets him guide her to her orgasm.

It doesn’t take long before she gets close to the edge again. She gnaws down on her bottom lip to keep from being too loud.

Matt’s hand slips between them and he thumbs at her clit. She throws her head back and lets out a low moan. He pulls her down into a kiss so she doesn’t get too loud, which they both know could happen when she comes.

She curls her fingers in Matt’s hair and her entire body begins to shake. She rolls her hips to match his pace. The two of them are panting.

There’s no warning when her vision goes white and she clenches around him. She whines his name as she comes. She’s so out of it that she doesn’t feel Matt lift her up so he comes on her thighs instead of inside of her. She does feel when she collapses on top of him in a panting mess. He’s not much better than she is.

When she finds the strength, she looks up at her boyfriend to find a smile on his face. “That happened after five days of not seeing each other,” he comments. “What’s going to happen next season when I’m on a roadie for more than a week.”

“I ride you in the car on the side of the road on the way home from thwork airport.” Her response gets a laugh out of Matt before they fix their clothing so they look presentable.

Needless to say, she finds herself in a lot of trouble after Matt scores the first Rangers playoff goal in the second period because now he might want to fuck her before every game if it means he scores and they win.

Yeah, she might be in a bit of trouble considering playoffs are supposed to last long into June, and it’s April.

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MASTERLIST

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[enkas-illusion]

One of Your Guys

One of Your Guys - Part 3/3

Fandom / Pairing: Jujutsu Kaisen / Choso x f!reader

Rating: NSFW/Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Content Warning: Fluff, smut, language, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, oral (f receiving), fingering, piv sex, lots of teasing.

Chapter Summary: You realise the difference between a stupid crush and actually developing real feelings for someone.

Song Dedication: Sweat by ZAYN / In Too Deep (feat. Kiana Ledé) by Jacob Collier 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

“My god! Again?” Mia sighs as she stares at you in disbelief. 

You’d paused the movie you’d been watching to take a picture of the dialogue displayed on screen. You’re sending it to Choso – because you know that he will find it interesting. You’ve been doing this a lot lately, hence the complaint from Mia.

Ever since the birthday weekend about a month ago, you’ve grown impossibly closer to Choso. You hadn’t planned this at all and initially tried your best to resist the feeling but you weren’t oblivious to the way your heart would flutter each time you thought of him.

You compare it to the changing of the season – you can’t stop the snow from falling just because you dread the cold weather. Similarly, you can’t ignore your obviously blooming feelings just because you’re scared of fucking it up again.

You’re smiling at your phone, even as you wait for his text. Nowadays, you have to physically force yourself to stop smiling too much. You fear that one of these days a stranger’s going to deem you crazy for smiling at your phone constantly.

“As cute as this is, I will disown you if you don’t do something soon. When are you planning to confess to him? Please put an end to my misery!” Mia groans. She’d been a close observer from the sidelines, watching you fall deeper and deeper for Choso. 

Each time you recall her question about how to know for certain that you like someone, your mind brings memories of Choso to the surface as evidence of the same. 

You’ve been hanging out with Choso after work sometimes on weekdays as well. It’s been almost impossible for you to stay apart. From the moment you wake up, you wish to talk to him to begin your mornings and miss him dearly on days you don’t get to meet him due to your different work schedules.

You had always paid close attention to his words whenever he spoke, but lately you find yourself wanting to take in every single detail about him with exact precision. You’ve memorised all his little habits and endearing idiosyncrasies like a photograph in your mind. 

This, you conclude, is the difference between falling in love with the idea of love and falling for a real person.

However, feeling the feels and actually acting on them are two completely different things. Each time Mia tells you to have the talk with Choso, you brush it off saying you’re waiting for the right moment. You both know that's just a lame excuse. The truth is that this time, you really are scared shitless of getting rejected by someone you genuinely like.

—

Although you like your work, you’ve officially become one of those people who eagerly look forward to weekends – however, your reason for such a desperate anticipation is different from theirs. Your desire stems from your longing to be with Choso the entire time. 

You’re currently grocery shopping with him, thanks to Mia’s orders – the cupid had sent you both to get a list of things for tomorrow’s brunch with the group. You’re arguing about the different brands of semolina flour to make the perfect pasta when you hear a voice call his name.

“Choso?” you both turn to look at the source of the voice and it’s a pretty brunette girl smiling at him. She walks to him and it looks like she’s about to lean in for a hug but decides against it. Choso smiles at her briefly.

“Hey, how you been?” He greets her.

“Choso… I thought you’d call! I’ve missed you.” she pouts as she bats her eyes at him. 

Usually, when you recognize game, you respect it. But looking at this chick, you feel a sudden rage to smack the flirting outta her. It’s annoying cause you’re aware you’d 100% pull the exact same shit in front of your crush. But the audacity this bitch has to flirt with your man (future tense) when you’re standing right next to him!

“Yeah… Sorry, I kinda got busy with stuff.” He lies. Although you know that he’s just being polite, you can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy deep down. It doesn’t last long, however, as Choso pulls you to his side, introducing you to her. 

She spares you half a smile when she introduces herself.

God, even her name is bitchy.

You extend your arm out to her and she shakes it. You know better than to poke the bear but you still act on your impulse, playing dumb when you ask her how she knows Choso.

“I’d love to tell you all about it but it’s hardly appropriate for supermarket talk.” she smirks at you. You simply give her a forced smile, refraining from saying something out of line.

“Well, we’re kind of in a rush so we better get going.” you excuse yourself as you put the bag of flour in your cart and pull it in the opposite direction. 

You hear her utter a ‘call me’ before Choso bids her goodbye, and returns to your side with hurried strides.

“We have to find three more items on the list.” he says as he checks his phone.

“Mia can get those tomorrow morning.” you say as you make your way to the checkout counter.

“They might be here somewhere…” he says, confused. You ignore him as you keep on walking, too embarrassed about feeling this way. 

He lets out a tiny gasp as he pulls at your bicep to stop you from walking, blocking your way with his body, “You’re jealous… Oh my god!” he chuckles, amusement laced in his voice, “This is so funny.”

You ignore him as you try to walk past him but his grip is firm on your bicep.

“What? No. Why on earth would I be jealous?” you lie, trying to maintain a poker face. He searches your eyes for something before deciding to drop the topic. He figures you’d keep on denying it anyway so he loosens his grip on your arm and you make your way to the billing counter.

When he drops you home, you hug him goodnight and tell him to leave before Mia has a chance to figure out that some of the items are missing. He laughs as he waves at you before driving away.

After you get back to your apartment, you don’t give Mia a chance to scold you as you promise her you’ll bring the remaining items first thing in the morning. So, you decide to go to bed early since you couldn’t afford to sleep in till late tomorrow.

—

You toss and turn in your bed for the umpteenth time. It’s almost 2am and you haven’t been able to sleep at all. You recall the encounter with Choso’s fling at the supermarket.

Let’s face it – it was pretty tame and yet it had you seething with jealousy like a teenager. This was just one incident, but how long will it take before someone braver than you makes her move and asks Choso out? It will be no one else’s fault but your own for having missed your shot. 

At 2am, the realistic and rational decision would be to force yourself to go to bed and think about this topic in the morning with a fresh perspective. But right now, you have nothing on your mind but a sense of urgency to act before it’s too late. 

Didn’t Ted Mosby say something about not following your heart after 2am?

Well… fuck Ted and fuck being rational.

You get up and hurry to your closet to quickly change into a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. You put on your shoes as you grab your phone and keys as you leave your house.

When you step down into the parking lot, you realise this is an utterly stupid decision. You’re paranoid – being a woman, alone at night, in a parking lot is far from a breezy walk in the park.

What could possibly go wrong?

Before your brain can create any more scary scenarios, you run to your car and get in to get out of there asap. 

It’s a 10 minute drive to Choso’s apartment. When you reach there, you take the elevator to his floor.

You dial his number and press call. While the phone rings, you realise three things – you probably are going to seem insane but you don't care; it’s awfully cold and you should’ve worn something warmer; it is officially too late to chicken out now.

“Hello?” you hear his sleepy voice and your heart feels like it's about to burst out of your chest.

“Hi, could you please open the door to your apartment?” you say sheepishly. You’re about to repeat yourself when it almost seems like he didn’t hear you the first time, but you stay silent when you hear shuffling sounds on the other end.

He simply hums before cutting the call. In seconds, you hear the fidgeting sound of the lock. As the door begins to open, you consider running away and hiding somewhere. 

So pathetic… this is totally not on brand for you.

When you take in his current state, you feel heat rise up to your cheeks and you can’t help but check him out. His hair is tied up messily and he’s only wearing sweatpants, while his upper body is bared in all its glory. 

Although you feel bad for waking him up in the middle of the night, your heart melts at how handsome he looks and you grow weak in your knees. His voice pulls your thoughts out of the gutter. 

“Is everything alright? What are you doing here at this hour? Did you drive alone?” He speaks softly, eyebrows knitted in concern and voice a bit gravelly from sleep.

You’re about to speak but stop like a deer caught in headlights when you hear a soft voice speak from inside. It’s hard to see who it is since the only source of light is coming from his room at the end of the hallway where the door had been left ajar.

“You’re still up?” the voice calls to him. He turns his head to reply and you lean slightly to the side out of curiosity.

When you spot the silhouette of a girl in the dim light, wearing only an oversized t-shirt that’s too big to be hers, your heart drops. 

You simply stare at him while he replies to her, “Oh yeah, a friend’s here. Don’t worry, go to bed.”

You feel like you’re about to be sick… this isn’t what you thought was going to happen.

Did he really call her when he got back home?

When he turns back to look at you, he instantly recognizes your dreaded expressions. And in that moment, he’s glad your face is expressive to the point of betraying you – your eyes always expose all the thoughts you refuse to speak out loud.

He quickly speaks up, “That’s Sam’s girl… She’s staying the night with him.”

Sam… right, his flatmate.

Your face relaxes at the realisation. The hope returns to your eyes. 

It's not too late! Now’s your one chance!!!

“So what brings you here at…”, he pulls his phone out, the brightness of his phone screen almost blinding, he shakes his head to look at the time, “... 2:34 in the morning?”

You shuffle a bit on your feet as you speak, “I- I wanted to tell you something and it almost felt like I couldn’t wait another moment to do so.”

“Oh…” he pauses a bit, “shit- sorry, please come in.” he invites you, moving to one side to let you in. He closes the door behind you as you take your shoes off. He takes your hand as you walk alongside him till you reach his bedroom.

When you enter his room, he leaves your hand and turns around to lock the door. You’re certain he hears the not-so-quiet yelp that you just let out when you saw his back. You slap your hand to your mouth as you cover it in shock and stare at the tattoo on his back.

From what you can see in the dim lighting of his room, it's a dragon and tiger in red and black ink and it’s huge. You vaguely recall him mentioning he had a tattoo once, but you never would’ve guessed it’d be one that covers almost his entire back.

New kink unlocked – Choso’s back tattoo.

“You have a tattoo…” it comes out as a statement rather than a question.

He chuckles at your surprise, “Yes, I am aware. Sitting in a chair with tiny needles making your back bleed for hours is kind of an unforgettable experience, I'd say.” 

“It’s pretty…” your voice trails off as you watch him grab his t-shirt from the laundry basket next to the door and put it on in one swift motion. You sit on the edge of his bed as he leans against the closed door, folding his hands over his chest.

You fidget with your fingers nervously as you try to come up with the right words for your confession. “Sooo…” you drag on, your heartbeat picking up its pace, making you fully aware of how anxious you are. “Mia has been on my case about this for a while now…”

Nope. Weak start.

“Fuck.” You close your eyes to focus, taking a deep breath as you begin again, “Choso… I like you. I’d been putting this off since I figured I’d wait to find the right words to express how I feel. But I may never find the perfect words because with every moment we spend together, I find myself falling deeper for you.”

You continue as you open your eyes to look at him, feeling a bit braver now that the cat’s out of the bag, “I’m aware it seems like a cheap shot since it’s such a recent development. But my feelings for you are sincere. What I felt for Satoru was simply me romanticising a platonic friendship.”

You sigh and it’s so overwhelming that you feel like crying, “Maybe this sounds like I’m talking out of my ass but fuck…Choso I like you so much it hurts. I’ve never done this before because frankly I’ve never been in so deep with anyone before. I want to show you just how much you mean to me and my heart aches just thinking that maybe you don’t want me anymore since I was too dumb before to see what was right in front of me all along. I’m sorry for failing to see you… but I do now. And if you’ll still have me even after me acting like an oblivious fuck, I’m right here.”

You bend your head down to cover your face with your hands as you can feel the tears in your eyes. You want to redo the confession because no matter what you say, it feels far from enough. Your train of thought comes to a halt when you feel him grab your wrists.

He pulls your hands away from your face and you find him kneeling in front of you so that you're face to face.

“Aww… my poor baby,” he mocks you playfully, but he’s smiling so bright that he’s sure, at that moment, his eyes speak for him too. You use the back of one hand to wipe your tears while the other slaps Choso’s chest lightly.

He grabs both your wrists and holds them in the tiny space between you two. He brings one hand to his lips, softly kissing your knuckles and repeats the action on your other hand.

“I’ve liked you for a while now, I’m pretty sure it isn’t going to fade so easily.” he smiles at you.

“Please tell me you believe me when I say I like you more than I’m able to express with my words?” you say, wanting reassurance that he understands the truth behind your emotions.

“I do… I’ve been aware of it for the past few days now.” he confesses. You furrow your eyebrows out of confusion. He explains, “Remember how I always joke about you looking at Satoru with those eyes? Well, I kinda realised that lately you’d been looking at me that way instead.”

“Oh,” is all you say as you look down to bite your lip, embarrassed. Choso leans forward as his fingers tilt your chin up. On instinct, you look down at his lips before your eyes move up to observe the rest of his face. 

“So… you still like me?” you almost whisper. 

“I do.” he chuckles softly, “and it doesn't hurt anymore cause I know you reciprocate my feelings.”

“Hmm… I do.” You reply. There's silence, it's far from awkward but you decide to break it anyway.

You begin, trying to mimic a stern voice, “And by the power vested in me by God Almighty, I now pronounce you husban- AGH!” 

Choso hooks his arm around your neck mid sentence pulling you towards him, causing you to kneel with a soft thud on the floor as his laughter fills the entire room. You hug him back as you laugh along, feeling a sense of accomplishment for having made him laugh so hard.

When the hearty laughter is reduced to softer giggles, you sit back up on the edge and rub the top of your knees as they hurt a bit from the slight impact. He mutters a quick ‘sorry’ as his hand replaces yours, massaging the area softly.

There’s an unspoken agreement when your eyes meet again. He wants you to make the first move this time. So you do just that.

You wrap your arms around his neck as you close the distance and kiss him gently. It doesn't take long for Choso to take charge and deepen the kiss as he cups your face in his hands and stands up, pulling you up with him without breaking contact. 

When your lips part, breathing heavy, he takes a step back to pull off his t-shirt. You close the distance once again as your hands move up to his hair. You pull his hair tie out, letting it drop to the floor and lacing your fingers through his black locks to free them. Your eyes scan his face to take in how pretty he looks with his hair down.

He leans down within seconds to close the distance between you. His kisses get frantic and messy as he grabs your ass with one hand while the other snakes around your waist, caging you between his arms.

He moves away to hastily pull your hoodie over your head before throwing it to the side. He’s towering over you with your bodies flush against each other’s. You lean back till you’re falling on the bed behind you. 

Choso sits up as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your pants and pulls them off roughly. A shiver runs down your body when you see the way he’s looking at you. His chest heaves as his breathing gets heavy, his voice comes out as a stern command, “Strip for me, baby.”

He moves back to stand at the edge of the bed to observe your movements intently. You turn your back to him, sitting on your knees. Your hands move to your back to unclasp the hook of your bra and you throw it across the floor. You turn around to face him, your hands covering your chest.

You lean back, supporting yourself on your elbows with your palms still covering your nipples. He damn near loses his mind when he hears you purr, feigning innocence, “Sorry… my hands are full, do you mind?” as you part your legs.

He doesn’t waste any time as he leans down to grab both your ankles, yanking you as he pulls your body near the edge of the bed. You let out a tiny squeal as your hands move to the sheets as you steady yourself.

Hooking his fingers into the hem of your underwear, he takes it off slowly as his eyes scan your entire body to memorise the view into his mind forever. When he discards the piece of fabric behind him, he grabs your right foot. He brings his lips to the top of your foot, peppering wet kisses up your leg till his face is just inches away from your pussy, his eyes locked in your gaze the entire time.

You can feel his hot breath, closing your eyes as you wait for him to kiss you where you really crave the touch of his lips. However, you open your eyes again when you feel him move away. He’s repeating his movement on your other leg, kissing all over your leg to rile you up.

When he bites the skin near your left thigh, you groan as you grow impatient and hook your leg on his shoulder in an attempt to pull him down closer.

“Patience, love.” he teases you as he moves up to kiss your stomach instead.

“Choso please…” you plead as your shaky hands move up to his hair.

“Tell me what you’d like me to do baby… since we’re so big on communication.” he teases. You say his name again as if to scold him, but it comes out more like a desperate whimper.

He’s on his knees near the edge of the bed as he repositions your legs to place them on his shoulders. He’s so close that the lack of his touch is agonising. He only needs to lean down a few inches to end your misery, yet he holds back, enjoying the way your body is reacting to his teasing.

“Eat me out baby… plea-” your voice gets caught in your throat and instead turns into a soft wail when you finally feel his lips on your skin. His fingers intertwine with yours, locking them to your side to keep them from moving as his tongue parts your folds with a gentle pressure.

You bite your lower lip to keep yourself from moaning out loud. His movements alternate between licking up your entrance and sucking at your clit. You arch your back and whimper as his tongue dips into your hole. 

He groans as his hands press yours deeper into the mattress to keep you from moving too much. You look down at him with knitted eyebrows and you feel as if you’re about to come just by the way his eyes look at your face.

“Taste so good baby…” he mumbles between kisses. When he notices you trying to restrain your moans, he lets go of one hand to slowly push two fingers inside you. He’s pleased when he’s able to elicit the desired reaction out of you as you moan his name, followed by a number of cusses while he pumps his fingers inside you at a steady pace. 

He goes back to sucking your clit while fucking you with his fingers. The combination of the two is deadly as you feel yourself getting close to your release. Your free hand grabs at his hair as your whole body starts shaking.

“Fu- Choso, don’t stop… don’t stop, ahh–” your voice strains as your head dips back and you close your eyes. You start shaking uncontrollably and as if on cue, his other hand moves up to apply pressure over your lower abdomen. You moan his name out loud with ragged breaths as you reach your orgasm.

You try to push his head away, not being able to handle how sensitive your pussy feels. But Choso doesn’t relent as his tongue laps at your folds to lick you clean, causing tears to form in your eyes due to the overstimulation. He stops when he hears your voice break, still panting as you come down from your high, your body twitching under his hold.

He moves up, kissing your stomach, the flesh under your boobs, the valley of your chest and finally licking up your throat till he’s levelled with your face. He kisses the corners of both  your eyes to erase the trail of tears that was left behind.

Your hands roam all over his back as you pull him down against you to kiss him on the lips one more time – he tastes of your cum with a slight hint of salty tears. Your legs wrap around his waist as you move a hand down to palm his erection.

He breathes out a quiet ‘fuck’ when your hand rubs him up and down from above his pants. You feel as if your brain is about to short circuit when you pull your lips away from his and briefly see a string of saliva connecting your mouths.

“Choso, please fuck me.” you beg softly. He nods before kissing your forehead softly as he says, “Your wish is my command, princess.”

He gets up quickly to pull his pants down along with his underwear together, freeing his cock from its restraints. He’s, what one would call, well-endowed… to say the least.  You feel yourself getting wet at how thick and veiny his dick is. You move back up to the centre of the bed as he makes his way to the bedside drawer to grab a tiny silver pack.

When he climbs up on the bed, you reach your hand out to caress his thighs. He tears the pack open with his teeth before rolling on the condom in a well-practised motion. When his eyes meet yours, they soften as he smiles at you. You smile back at him before you bite your lip, feeling the butterflies in your stomach.

He moves to sit with his knees just below your hips and leans down to spit on your folds, moving his fingers to spread the spit around your hole. He lines himself up at your entrance, slapping his dick over your pussy a few times before coating it with your wetness.

He looks up at you, pausing his movement to speak, concern lacing his voice, “Let me know if it hurts, okay baby?”

You feel the blood rush to your head at his words and you nod frantically. He hooks your knees over his shoulders before slowly pushing his tip in. You let out a broken whimper at how good he already feels as chills run down your spine at the sensation.

He leans forward till his chest is flush against yours and he has you in a mating press. He doesn’t break eye contact as he pushes inside you slowly till he bottoms out. Your eyebrows knit as you try to keep your eyes open.

A low grunt escapes from his throat as he moans your name when your walls flutter around his dick. Choso wets his lips as he grabs a pillow from the side to place it under your lower back.

“You good?” he says, his voice strained.

“Never been better.” you breathe out, looking at him with lust-filled eyes that are pleading him to not tease you any further. 

He supports his body weight with his left forearm rooted firmly in the space beside your head while his right hand comes up to your throat. His hold is firm as he tilts your head to the side with his thumb, dipping his face in the crook of your neck.

As he bites and sucks all over your neck, you feel your walls clench around him. He bites harder when he feels it, earning a moan from you in return. You plead, urging him to fuck you already.

“Not…” he whispers as his tongue flicks at one of your nipples, “...yet.” he repeats the movement on the other bud as well. Although everything he’s doing feels good, you grow desperate in the anticipation of feeling his dick fuck into you.

You wrap your hands around his wide shoulders as you speak, “Baby, please don’t make me beg so–.” Before you have a chance to finish your sentence, he pulls out to thrust deep in one quick motion. 

You scream his name way too loudly and you’re pretty sure Sam and his girlfriend heard you. Even if they didn’t, it would be impossible to miss the sounds of his balls slapping against your skin as he starts ramming into you with a steady pace.

His movements are precise, pulling out till only his tip is inside you before slamming all the way in. You shut your eyes, feeling every thrust and your nails dig into his shoulders when it gets too much to handle.

Your right leg slides off his shoulder slightly and you press it against his bicep, you can feel the sticky sweat on both of your skins as you keep on whispering lewd praises at him.

“You fuck… so good.” you moan breathlessly as his movements get sloppy. “Don't st- mhm- make me yours.”

“I’m gonna cum… fuck.. if you keep talking like that, love.” he groans, picking up his pace as the hand he had on your throat moves down to stimulate your clit. You’re kissing his shoulder when he does that and it causes you to bite into his skin to contain your moans.

A few more sloppy thrusts and Choso cums as he bites your neck a little too hard. You wail his name out of pain. He licks over the bite to soothe it a bit when he realises it as his pace slows down before pulling out completely. You miss the feeling of his dick inside you but he quickly lowers himself to fuck you with his tongue instead. His mouth and his fingers work together and it doesn’t take long for you to cum on his tongue once again.

When your breathing steadies, your grip on his hair loosens; just now realising that you’d been pulling his hair instinctively. He’s still peppering your folds with soft kisses. Your eyelids feel heavy as you pull at his bicep. He understands what you want and pulls himself up to face you, caging you between his arms.

His face looked fucked out and you know yours is the same way. You cup his face with your shaky hands.

“Hi,” he gives you an innocent smile. 

As if he wasn’t just fucking you into kingdom come.

“Hi,” you smile back as a blush creeps up on your cheek, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable under him. He kisses your lips softly and you close your eyes as your arms wrap around his neck. He leaves tiny pecks on your cheeks, eyelids, nose, chin till he’s covered your entire face with soft kisses.

You giggle under him as his lips move down to your neck. He nudges his nose so that it tickles you. You know what he’s about to do as he brings a hand to the side of your abdomen to tickle you there.

You scold him, still giggling, before it escalates, “Choso! No! Please… baby I’m tired.” 

“Well, if you ask so nicely…” he says as he stills his movement to sit up, but not before giving you another quick peck. You sit up to make your way to the bathroom to pee and you see him move to help you.

“I can go by myself,” you let out a chuckle but you'd be lying if you said your legs weren't feeling like jelly.

“Say yes for another round and you won't be able to.” He laughs as he takes in the way your naked silhouette looks, the bathroom light illuminating your figure before you close the door behind you.

If it were up to him, he'd be more than glad to stay up all night to hear your sweet moans, commiting to memory the way you scream out his name.

When you return, you find him standing near the bin as he ties the condom in a knot and puts it in the torn pack before dropping it in the bin. It’s a simple act yet you find it very attractive that he’s so organised. 

You get back to the bed as you watch his movements intently. He bends down to grab his sweatpants from the floor and rummages through the pockets to find his phone. When he touches the screen, it lights up again, making him squint his eyes.

“Why don’t you just put it on auto-adjust?” you laugh.

“Because then it becomes too dim even in broad daylight at times.” he complains as he places the phone on his bedside table. 

“Wait, do you want to set an alarm? I meannn, I’m all for missing brunch if I get to fuck you all day instead.” he says as he lies down next to you and pulls you into him till your back is pressed against his chest. 

“Choso, I'm tired!” You giggle and he hums in response. You twist your head to inhale his scent.

“Your perfume’s faded.” you note.

“Then what do I smell like now?” he questions and you turn around to face him completely, wrapping your arms around his torso.

“You smell of sweat…” you kiss his lips, “and sex…” you tug at his bottom lip with your teeth briefly, “... and me.”

He smiles into the kiss, “Is it your new favourite scent?”

“Maybe.” you tease.

“Guess I have no choice but to smell like it all the time now.” he says as he kisses your earlobe. You laugh and roll your eyes at him. He pulls the blanket over your bodies, pulling you impossibly closer. You continue to lazily make out for another 30 minutes or so, whispering sweet nothings, till you eventually fall asleep in each other's arms.

You don’t get to sleep much as you wake up when daylight breaks in through his window, softly lighting up the room. You find Choso sleeping with his head on your stomach, the blanket has since shifted to the edge of the bed. In the gentle morning light, you can see his tattoo better. You slowly caress the lines of the figure and it might be the prettiest tattoo you’ve ever seen. It’s red spider lily flowers peeking out from under the larger dragon and tiger tattoo.

When your fingers gently move over the scratches your nails had ingrained into his skin, you hear him groan softly. You pull your hand away, whispering a soft ‘sorry baby’ but he slowly brings his right hand over to intertwine it with your left hand. He pulls it to his lips, kissing the top of your hand.

He bites the skin gently, earning a quiet laugh from you. He opens his eyes to look up at you. His movements are lazy as he moves up, kissing above your belly button before coming up to rest his chin on your chest.

You run your hands through his hair slowly as you speak, “I’m sorry about your back… I'll make sure to cut my nails next time.”

“No, don’t. You can scratch my back all you want… battle scars, baby.” he snorts at his own joke, “Besides, I’d say I did a lot more damage than you.”

His fingers move the stray strand of your hair away from your neck as he observes the trail of hickeys running down from your neck to your breast. 

“Oh god…” you groan.

“What?”

“Mia…” you sigh.

“You don’t want her to know?” He speaks softly but sounds almost hurt.

“What? No, it’s not that. Believe me, she’s gonna do a happy dance since I'll stop being so insufferable in front of her,” you laugh before continuing, “but I had promised to get the remaining items on the list for her in the morning. She’s gonna be so pissed when she doesn’t find me in my room.”

“Ahh… no worries, we can go pick it up on our way, we still have time.” he smiles at you. 

“Sooo, round 2?” you blush as your fingers dance over his bicep. 

He laughs as he comes up to kiss your cheek, “You didn’t have to ask.”

You fuck for another two hours, exploring multiple positions that have you seeing stars as you chant his name on repeat. When you’re done, every single part of your body feels sore – even your throat isn’t spared as it feels sensitive from deep-throating him. You stop only because you decide it’ll be too late to get home on time if you stayed any longer. 

Despite Choso’s protests claiming you’d save time if you showered together, you take turns to freshen up. You tell him no and push him in the bathroom, he pouts dramatically but closes the door behind him as he obliges nonetheless. 

When you’re both dressed up and ready to leave, he pulls you in for a hug. You bury your face into his chest while he’s nesting his against your neck. You breathe in the freshly applied oud-jasmine scent and sigh, feeling intoxicated. He squeezes your body into his and you wrap your arms around him tighter as you both stay still in each other’s arms for quite a few minutes before you decide to leave.

Choso drives your car to the grocery store and asks you to wait in the car while he quickly gets the necessary items. It doesn’t take very long and you reach your apartment shortly after.

“Man… Mia’s gonna flip when she finds out we’re finally dating.” you smile, excited as he parks the car in the parking lot of your building.

“Dating?,” he questions, “Whatever gave you that impression, baby? We’re so platonic!” 

Before you have a chance to react, he cups your jaw with one hand to pull you in for a kiss. You laugh into the kiss and slap his chest playfully. 

“Kidding, you’re stuck with me now.” he adds, looking at you with a soft smile.

“You’re the one who’s trapped baby… heart and soul.” you say, trying to mimic his voice with the last words. It’s his turn to roll his eyes as he pulls you in again and kisses you slowly. 

The feeling of his lips against yours is so addicting and you don’t want to leave. If it were up to you, you’d stay in his arms forever, and then some more.

taglist: @lik0 @hueanhdang @dellalyra @aquamarine001 @personomy

[irrevocableloves]

violent delights

twilight rewrite! edward cullen x fem!witch!reader

chapter two: golden topaz

previous chapter ౨ৎ masterlist ౨ৎ chapter three

summary: why, even in his absence, did edward cullen have an effect on her?

warnings: swearing, lil bit of fluff & angst

words: 2.9k

Days went by since I last saw Edward Cullen.

I shouldn't be thinking about him or let alone think about what he thought of me. I wanted to confront him, but every time I waited to see his grey Volvo or him striding to his cafeteria seat or perhaps a late arrival to biology class, it was nothing. It was like he never existed. It drove me insane.

Since then, he's invaded not just my mind, but my dreams. But they felt different. As if I could feel him, like he was really there with me.

"Hey, I invited Billy and Jacob tonight, you still up for making dinner?" My dad asked, bringing me out of my thoughts.

"Huh? Oh. Yeah! Definitely."

"You sure? I could always pick up something from the diner or uh–I could always try cooking?"

"No, please," I chucked, "It's okay, dad, I got it."

"Hey, dad, I was wondering..." I trailed off, wondering if it would be strange to ask about the Cullens, but my dad seemed to know just about anything going on around town. "Do you know the Cullens?"

"Sure do! Came just around the time you left to your mom's. Why?"

"Um, I dunno. I just–"

"Listen, all the talk about them being strange. They're a good family. Carlisle has done a whole lot for Forks as a doctor than I've seen in years. He keeps his kids in line, they do good in school from what I've heard, haven't had a single speck of trouble from any of those kids. Can't say the same from those who've lived here their entire 17 or so years."

I was surprised by his response, deciding I shouldn't ask anymore about them, especially Edward...

Soon after the conversation ended, I drove your car to the nearby grocery mart to grab ingredients for the dinner I was making for the Black's.

Billy and Jacob, I've known them for as long as you could remember, they were practically like family to me and my dad. As a kid, I remember all the times playing with Jake, Rachel, Rebecca, Leah, and Seth on the reservation. Mostly, Leah and I would be excluded from the boys and we would be left to babysit Seth because he was too small to be rough-housed. But, Jacob always had a soft spot for me and begged the boys to include us most of the time.

I wasn't stupid, I knew Jacob liked me, but I never had the heart to reject him.

Once I was done gathering the ingredients to make a simple pasta recipe, I headed out.

Back at the house, I had my dad doing the simplest of tasks as possible, like boiling the water, pulling the seasonings out of the cabinets, etc. He wasn't the best cook and I knew that when I was away for the summer he either went to the diner everyday or ate Harry Clearwater's fish fry.

For me, cooking was something that I enjoyed, so you didn't mind catering for my dad every once in a while, in fact, I felt at peace knowing you could do at least one thing for my dad that he could appreciate. Cooking for me was quite peaceful. I wasn't a complete expert at it, but I was good at following recipes, making things from complete scratch, and I knew for sure that I had an excellent taste palette.

While I cooked, I had my dad take out the nice plates that I begged my mom to keep here and pull out the dinner table to face the television so he and the boys could enjoy a nice game of 'whatever sport was on' by the time dinner was ready.

My dad and I sat in comfortable silence before the Black's arrived. Me setting the plates and my dad setting out the nice placemats and silverware that I had thrifted some time ago. This is what I liked about my dad. The silence. It was never uncomfortable or awkward, but he was less of a hover than my mother, who was just a constant ringing in your head. I loved your mom of course, but it didn't hurt to admit that I favored my father just a little bit more.

"So, how was your first week? None of the teachers give ya a hard time?" He broke the silence, I didn't mind his small talk either.

"Nah, they're pretty lenient since I've got all my work done. It's just the PE teacher who's had me running extra laps to make up for the 'lost time'..." I rolled my eyes at the memory of Coach Clapp even assigning me exercises to 'keep yourself busy at home'.

Dinner went by smoothly. Billy and Jacob didn't arrive empty handed as Jacob came in with a hefty looking pie in his right hand, helping my dad with his left to haul Billy's wheelchair up the porch stairs.

At the end of dinner, I'd said my goodbyes to Billy and Jacob, thanking them again for my car. Like always, my dad promised to do all dishes because of our rule, 'whoever cooks doesn't wash the dishes', which means he's the one cleaning them practically every single day.

I found myself in the forest. With the trees surrounding, the area was left dim, with the sunlight hardly peeking through. I felt my feet guiding me up a hill, closer and closer to the sun rays, the breeze of the dark forest slipping away as I climbed even farther up towards the sunlight. Deeper up the hill, the trees began to fade away and at the end of the hill, an almost blinding light was up ahead. I kept at it, becoming more intrigued with the warmth that I was being guided to. I squinted as I reached the end, the light fading, but I was no longer on your feet. I felt the grass on my face and between my fingertips, the sun rays coating my skin, and a cold hand stroking my hair.

I opened my eyes. Edward was facing me. His hand gently stroking my hair, carefully moving to my cheek. I place mine atop of his, his icy touch melting into my own. It felt warm, his touch. I closed my eyes once again, only to open them to face my bedroom ceiling.

Sighing, I got out of bed, grabbing my journal on your bedside table and jotting down my dream. Ever since I met Edward, I've been in the same meadow. A valley of green with purple flowers scattered around the grass. But never have I been this close to him, never could I feel his touch or the temperature of his skin.

I woke up to snow.

I smiled, taking in the view from my window of the defrosted frost from the heating unit, looking outside to the perfectly pillowed grounds of my front yard, seeing my dad finishing up the snow chains on my tires.

Surprisingly, not very many people in Forks enjoyed the snow, but I did. I loved being able to bundle myself in layers of clothing and seeing everyone with a red flush on their face from the cold as they engaged in snow fights as if they were reliving their early childhood.

Sure, it was a pain in the ass to walk in or more so drive in, but it sure as hell made the ordinary town of Forks look as if it was the most adored place in the world. Plus, I appreciated the canceled school days on snow days, but unfortunately, school was to remain in session for the time-being.

Before the first bell rang, I stood with Jessica and Angela outdoors while Eric, Mike, Tyler, Ben, and other boys I didn't bother to remember the names of as they carelessly played in the snow with a mix of snowball fights and snow angels. That's when I saw the Cullens arrive, looking to have just as much fun as everyone else – only they looked more like a scene from a painting or a Hollywood film rather than a bunch of children roaring with laughter and glee.

I made eye contact with him for a split second. After a full week of missing school, avoiding my presence, he was with his family, skidding around in the snow with his brother Emmett.

With the weather most likely being in its negatives, he somehow looked more alive than ever. His skin was less pale, his eyes a lot more radiant.

I didn't realize I was staring as long as I was until his eyes met back with my own, causing me to flinch away from his eyesight.

Jessica followed where my eyes were once at, "Y/N, what are you staring at?" Her eyebrows furrowed, then finally realizing my eyes' view, "Edward Cullen is staring at you..." she giggled into my ear.

"Yeah... I don't think he likes me very much."

"The Cullens don't like anyone. Well actually, they never seem to notice anyone, really. But he's like staring staring. What did you do?"

"Jess, stop looking!"

"What's she looking at?" Angela squealed. "Oh."

They both giggled immensely, pulling me in between them and forcing us all to walk towards the school building. Angela giggles, "Looks to me like Edward Cullen's got a crush."

I expected to see Edward at the left of our shared table, but he was a no-show once again.

I sighed with relief, heading over to my seat, as Mike spoke, "Hey, if Cullen doesn't show up, um I can ask Banner if you can join–"

The chair to the left of me screeched and I looked over.

Edward. There he was. Now sitting there with an awkward smile as if he wasn't absolutely repulsed by my presence, as if my presence didn't prevent him from attending school for a week straight.

"Hello," he said quietly.

I froze. Hello? Was he serious?

"I didn't have a chance to introduce myself last week. My name is Edward Cullen." I didn't respond, I physically and mentally couldn't form an answer to give him. "You must be Y/N."

"I'm... uh... yes." I breathed out.

Did I make this up? The entirety of our previous reaction? He was perfectly polite. It was as if we were meeting for the very first time, as if his first reaction of my presence didn't leave him sickly and running off.

As soon as I sat, I caught him moving towards the edge of his seat. So he's still repulsed.

This was the type of awkward conversations that I despised, which was part of the reasons I was glad my mother had kept me from them, but here I was, having to experience them as if I was doing ice breakers at the beginning of the semester.

Thankfully, before anymore conversation had begun, the bell rang and Mr. Banner began class.

"Onion root tip cells! That's what's on your slides. Separate and label them into the phases of mitosis. The first partners to get it right, win... the golden onion!" The class remained silent as he enthusiastically brought out the golden onion from the inside of his desk. He sighed, telling everyone to get started on their partner work.

Maybe this time the partner work wouldn't be rash and I would actually get a chance to do the work together rather than checking Edward's quick, but correct responses.

"Ladies first?" Edward asked, giving me a crooked smile.

I pushed the microscope towards myself before he could, snapping the first slide and adjusting the lens.

"Prophase." I said confidently.

"Do you mind if I look?" he asked, reaching for the microscope as I was pushing it towards him.

His hand was caught into mine and I flinched. His hands were ice-cold. The familiar coldness that I had felt just the night before in my dream. It felt electric.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, pulling his hand back as well, embarrassed. "Prophase," he agreed, writing it down on our worksheet. His handwriting was surprisingly neat for a boy. Most of the ones I've tended to work with had left illegible scribbles which always prompted me to snatch the sheet away from them and write it myself. But his, it was quite beautiful.

He switched out the slides, quickly identifying Anaphase, to which I mimicked his response with, "May I?"

Throughout the rest of the slides, the two of us continued on with the routine, taking turns with the rest of the slides, checking the answers each of us give to one another until the very last slide. We were finished before anyone else, leaving us with plenty of time to spare.

"I knew it was a good idea to make the two of you lab partners!"  Mr. Banner said excitedly, looking over our completed lab and checking the answers.

Silence met the two of us as Mr. Banner left to check the rest of the class' progress, until I broke the silence.

"You've been gone..."

"Yeah uh," he stuttered. "Got sick. It's why I left class so suddenly." So it wasn't because of me?

"Oh. I'm sorry. Well, I'm glad you're uh– feeling better." He only nodded in response.

Edward broke the silence once again, "So... where were you this month? I take it that you're not new. With your dad being the sheriff and everything."

I was taken aback by his question. Normally when I partnered with other boys (besides Eric and Mike of course), there was a string of awkward silence when the assignment was completed and the boys would ditch me for their friends or whisper quite loudly across the classroom to their friends until they were caught.

"Uh–with my mom. She lives in California, I was visiting for the summer. She doesn't really have anyone else, so I promised her I'd stay for another month."

"California is a lot different from Forks," he chuckled. "Do you like it there? The sun and the heat?"

"Not really, if I'm being honest," it sounded like a lame response, but it was true, "The sun is nice until it's beating on you in 102 degree weather. It's pretty nauseating."

Edward let out a genuine laugh to my response, catching me off guard. Even his laugh was gorgeous.

"So what about you? Why Forks?" I questioned.

"Change of scenery, mostly. My mother, she's always wanted to live in a small town. My sister Rosalie isn't too fond of the town herself, she's a lot more uh... flashy than the rest of us," he chuckled. I listened to him intently while also mapping out the features of his perfectly chiseled face. His cheekbones, his lips. So perfect, like a sculpture..

"Yeah, I can definitely see that," I giggled, remembering Rosalie's modelesque entrance into the cafeteria, it was almost as if she was glowing. "And you? How're you liking Forks?"

"I like it. It's quiet. I'm not such a fan of the flare of bustling cities like Rosalie, I'm a lot more... simplistic."

Before I could speak, Mr. Banner comes rushing over to us. "So, seeing the two of you were the first ones to finish... I present the two of you... the golden onion," he says quite dramatically, revealing the onion from the back of him as if he were some cheap magician. We stared at the man, then at each other, fighting a fit of laughter. "Don't fight all at once! C'mon take it!" Banner said sarcastically.

Mr. Banner rolled his eyes, placing the golden onion on our lab table in front of us.

"I think you should have the honors," I giggled, moving the onion towards Edward.

"Nope, it's only fair you have it, you did most of the slides anyways," he smiled, trying to contain his laughter. My god, he was fucking gorgeous.

"Consider it as a gift, a warm welcome gift to Forks," I joked back.

"No, I insist," he chuckled. "See it as an apology gift. For how I acted when we first met." So I didn't imagine it.

That's when I had relinquished, placing the onion in my bag with possibly the biggest smile on my face.

After class, I expected Edward and I to part ways as I told him goodbye. But he stayed by my side, which resulted in awfully embarrassed, reddened-face Mike when he tried to rush to my side after the bell rang.

Walking out of class with him, for the first time I'd felt the comfortable silence as I strode beside one another through the halls.

"Did you get contacts?" I blurted out, stopping in my tracks. I didn't know exactly why I asked, I didn't really think much about it until now. I could've sworn from the first glance that his eyes were a flat black color or maybe my mind had altered it to match his dark attitude at the time. But now, as I studied his features, they were much brighter, a completely different shade from before. It was almost as if they were golden.

He offered me a puzzled look on his face before responding with a blank, "No."

I continued on, "Your eyes were like this dark dark brown before, but now they're this golden topaz color, I don't think I've ever seen eyes that color before."

He shrugged off my response, shifting to a similar demeanor from the time that I had first met him. He muttered, "I'll see you tomorrow." Then he was off, hands clenched into fists, clearly frustrated about something.

next chapter

a/n: this is going super slow rn but i'm trying to add a mixture of both the book and the movie that r my fav and also some of my own stuff of course! i'm trying to refrain from copying and pasting straight from the script and book, but some of lines are a MUSTTT. i always thought it was super lame that bella hated the cold so much. i'm from california and i absolutely hate the heat 3 this is also unedited again i apologize, so if the pov's are messed up that's why... hehe the next chapter is one of my fav scenes WHEN HE SAVESSS HERRRR !!

[gracemain919]

overwhelmed doppelganger when reader give her most attention to him, like him laying on reader lap, and petting him and praising him, saying that we adore the true him and something like that?

The Doppelganger oc:

(The Fungus Universe)

Tw. Yandere, Body dysmorphia (i think this applies or I'm dumb)

It was a quite evening. In a secluded room, The Doppelganger laid in Y/n’s lap letting them pet his head after a very stressful show.

Y/n could recognize hints of their very hidden panic that was dug into the depths of his eyes where he hoped no one would ever find. On stage they saw Jacob give his all while devouring the praise like a starved cat. He danced and singed along with his crew but something happened. His eyes darkened as if disappointed about something.

“You did great!” Y/n praised but Jacob just nodded. “I know I did dear. I never disappoint”.

Yep just as cocky as ever… “You're very good on stage but sometimes when you leave it… I doubt you fully drop the act” Y/n muttered continuing to play with his hair. “I love you truly, and between you and me you are my favorite out of all the other leaders… but please tell me what is wrong?”

The redhead grimaced at such words but still swallowed deeply his imperfections. “Nothing is wrong,” he said a smirk showing on his lips before his head pats were stopped by a very impatient Y/n.

“Doppelganger i know you. Do you think I can't tell when you changed your face shape last week? I accept anything you do but at least don't lie to me about your feelings”

“Fine.” he muttered with more annoyance than Y/n would hope for. “You lucky I love you so much dear”.

Behind his ‘annoyance’ Jacob felt a bit of relief as he told Y/n about a couple of things. He has a lot of things he would rather bring to the grave than show but for you… after all your praise he’s more complaint to let you in a few of his secrets and worries on the never-ending facade he calls a life. Even when he tries to be himself he always ends up changing his own narrative.

It’s like he has forgotten who he was and every day he’s looking for the puzzle pieces of a game he will never be able to complete. Maybe you one day can help him find the fragments he has lost but realistically speaking he’s better as the person he became. His past self can be forgotten it doesn't convene you.

(Hope I got your concept right. If I didn't then sorry;-;)

[heli0s-writes]

You’re Toxic, I’m Slipping Under

Summary: He bristles, offended. And you try, with as much dignity as you can muster after the last two hours of being fucked blind, to not look so smug about it. “See you next week,” he hums.

A/n: To celebrate Glass Onion coming out, here’s ol’ boy Ransom because I hate him so much :) 4.1k words. Warnings: Smut; mild degradation, spitting, daddy kink; classism; Mind Games with Ransom Hour etc. etc. Please stop reading if you’re not 18+

Your whole apartment building seems to rattle when he arrives thirty minutes late. Like raucous fanfare to announce his appearance, the door slams shut, the latch clicks loudly, and then you hear his heavy footsteps pounding up the stairs.

His shoes are still on—of course they are—stomping your floorboards and dragging in dirt. You can practically see them, the usual suede loafers switched out for leather boots with the late fall chill, and probably mud-caked because he’s thankless like that.

With your attention still on your laptop, already irritated because you’ve been attempting a paper that’s only chased its tail for the last three hours, you ask, “Did you misplace your watch, Ransom?”

Turning, you show him you’re the screen reading 8:32 and blink pointedly, “Is that a yes?”

“Don’t be smart,” he snaps back. “You know I don’t like that.”

Your head’s been a mess of fog, body tense and frustrated for days, and although you’ve always prided yourself on tact and grace—patient like a saint—Ransom manages to bring out the worst. You hiss, “Take your damn shoes off, you know I don’t like that.”

You watch mutely as he does so, not without a sneer here, a shitty comment there. He takes three long steps and plops himself on your bed, hands curling into the quilt, thumbs brushing over the patchwork fabric disparagingly. He pinches a loose thread and begins to pull, tugging slowly at first, and then finding joy in unraveling a line of stitching until nearly three inches rip apart.

“I always thought you needed to replace this thing.” He twirls the string disdainfully, “It’s ugly as sin.”

He pretends he doesn’t know how you obviously love this quilt—handstitched and affectionately made, your damn initials are embroidered into the corner, after all. He’s made a game of testing your patience, gleefully punching at every button as he tries to get you to snap.

Ransom Drysdale Thrombey. You’d met him at one of the Thrombey’s family… functions. Dysfunction, you’d muttered under your breath when Walt beat his cane against the floor in a drunken tirade and Meg ran out back to wolf down a pot cookie that she was supposed to be saving for later.

She was on the cusp of a panic attack, words tumbling out like a car crash, her hand in her beret, then hair, then trembling over her maroon-painted lips.

“God, I’m so sorry— I thought we could just make a pit stop before heading out. The food’s always catered and really good— god… it’s a fucking mess.”

You waved her off because it’s not like you haven’t witnessed at least one aunt having a meltdown during holiday dinner before— family’s just like that—and tried to placate her with, “Can’t be worse than the cousin who asked if we’d be scissoring later.”

Meg’s face twisted in disgust. “Ugh, ew! Fucking Jacob! He’s a skeezy little incel— I swear he’s a moderator on one of those internet forums where they post revenge porn and upskirt vids— honestly, he was adorable two years ago. Then I guess he went through puberty and got radicalized on Youtube.”

You paused as she lit a cigarette and inhaled furiously before realizing that the two of you were thinking of two entirely different cousins.

“I meant the big one, Meg. This one went through puberty twenty years ago.”

“Ew, Ransom,” Meg frowned, “That’s even worse.”

“Ransom? What is he, a Disney villain?”

Leaves crunched behind your back and Meg looked up from flicking ash into the yard toward the sound.

“Let’s be honest, I’ve got the face of a leading man.”

Meg blew smoke at him, as if the fumes were enough to threaten his sensibilities. You figured not, he looked like a cigar smoker anyway—one of those guys who’d dedicate a whole room in their house with the humidity just right to keep them fresh. Rich people shit.

“Go away, Ransom,” she said, to clarify.

“I don’t recall addressing you, Megan.” He took a drawn-out look, lips pursing in scrutiny before lifting a brow, making a real goddamn show about it. “Okay,” he said, “I’ll bite. 400 on the dresser for an hour; you can get yourself something nice.”

You’re still not sure what it was about either your attire or attitude that allowed him to conjure up such an offer.

Maybe it was your shitty jeans and your sweater from freshman year orientation. Maybe you looked like an easy mark to tear down.

His audacity shocked out a laugh from you—a loud, abrupt guffaw that eased Meg enough for her to dip back inside to grab more from her stash. And when she was out of sight, focused on rummaging in the old clock, you responded, “Yeah, okay. I’ll bite back.”

Maybe it was an act of rebellion against your background in contrast to all this excess. The bitter aftertaste of eating bottom shelf food out of necessity for weeks at a time—those awful chicken bouillon packets and dried blocks of instant noodles your first year of college. No one paid for your schooling or housing so learning to balance an over-abundance of classes and a job because you needed to graduate early, needed to spend less money on tuition, meant that you were working yourself to death.

If Youtube radicalized Jacob, then habitually sleeping three hours a night in the campus library and skipping meals to afford textbooks while men like Ransom crashed Maserati’s for fun radicalized you.

So, sure. Game on.

He picked you up the following weekend without anyone knowing and took you somewhere expensive. It was a whirlwind of exorbitant dinners and being quietly sneered at down the straight line of his tall nose bridge. The front door to his bachelor pad shutting but not bothered with locking. Falling into the thousand-count Egyptian cotton bedsheets naked, the skylight’s beam spilling like gold-flecked champagne.

You promised yourself it meant nothing. Just an experiment of unbridled spite. If he wanted to throw money at you, hell, that’s his problem. If he wanted to fuck you, well, you’d give him the best fuck of his life— let him see that despite wealth, at the end of the day, he was flesh and blood trembling for the right stroke.

And sure, he trembled, but it was your mistake to pare it down so simply.

Ransom juggled fuck buddies much longer than you’d been fucking at all. He knew it was best with the right amount of emotion involved. Just enough to yearn. If he laid roses at your feet, kissed your knees featherlight and worked his way up to your jaw, cradled the back of your head, nosed the pulse of your wrist, your collarbones, asked for your eyes on him, and panted the lightest breath of your name at the edge of it all—now who’s fucking who over, sweetheart?

You were out of your depth. He was powerful, older, and more experienced. He touched you in ways that emulated affection—that brought fire and danger. His hands were large and callused at the juncture of his fingers. His pretty mouth was pink, wet, kissed greedy. His sharp eyes took everything in.

But, as you predicted, his moods soon volleyed in every direction as consequence of never being told no, and once the novelty of crazy hot—often angry—sex grew stale, you crashed back down to earth burned out. You ghosted.

“You’re, what…” he called through the door the week after you texted that it was both too much and not enough to carry on with, “breaking up with me? Seriously. This is a fucking joke.”

And you could have practically seen it—how his bottom lip would jut out as his incisors crossed, how his brows would sink when he got angry. He was never belligerent, only calculating.

You told him to leave, and he did, after a single loud kick to the frame, because he’s never begged for anything, and he wasn’t going to start.

The guilt came afterwards, with the bouquet of roses on the doormat, petals scattered around because he’d slammed them down after being ignored again and again, and you swept them inside to throw into a vase next to the three other vases with flowers in various degrees of wilted.

“Breaking up” prickled complicatedly in the middle of your chest, because despite the many shows of affection, you knew you weren’t exactly breaking up. You had never really been with him anyway. People aren’t… with Ransom. They’re towed along by Ransom, dragged by their hair by Ransom. Played with by Ransom until he inevitably gets bored.

It devolved into needless melodrama. Weekly episodes of a teen show with grandiose gestures of toxic relationships perceived as romance. Ransom’s habit of whisking you away, fucking you senseless, turning around to fight with you about any-goddamn-thing he pleased. Dropping off flowers and champagne. Restarting the whole process.

It wasn’t healthy—isn’t healthy, probably, according to most therapists—since he’s here, present-day, in your room, beginning to undress.

You fiddle with the sleeves at your elbows, thumbing cool satin before advancing, arms subconsciously crossed.

He’s only in his underwear now. A pair of nondescript gray boxer briefs fitted on his muscular thighs, taut as he leans back on his palms. He slowly spreads his legs, inviting you between them. His lips purse when you stand passively, knee brushing his bulge, hands resting over his shoulders. He’s warm.

One palm caresses your lower back and the other on himself, gliding up and down. His lids are half open, voice low, “You miss this?”

“No,” which is a lie. You missed it when evenings were boring, half-heartedly nodding to some boy’s drivel about campus life, mind wandering to someone who didn’t look freshly 21, didn’t date like it. Didn’t talk themselves up just to get you into bed.

At least Ransom was honest; he always said exactly what he thought, told you exactly when you were pissing him off, how he was going to teach you a lesson—where he wanted you, how he wanted you, and— a chill races up your arms.

He’s downright smug when he notices.

“No? You prefer sloppy frat boys pawing at you like virgins over me? Every time, you think they might fuck right but, well, you’re always disappointed.” He reaches beneath the short hem of the robe, splays his hand out over your thigh and very slowly feels his way up.

Your eyes shutter as he pulls you forward, gripping tightly and massaging up toward your ass. The pit of your belly is tightening, the rest trying to push down being too eager for him all over you, his broad shoulders, his strong hands, how he bends his grasp on your shoulder, fixes you in a perfect curved arch just the way he likes.

Ransom noses the robe out of his path, sinking his teeth lightly down until he scrapes a line over your breastbone, laying his face gently down like a child—like a lover.

“You know,” he begins, taunting again, “You make a… face.” He says it as he trails down beneath the swell of one breast, letting your nipple graze his cheek, before he presses a kiss to your ribcage. Hot like a brand, searing into your belly. And then he bites.

You flinch, hand going to his hair to pull him away. He throws his head back into your grasp, eyes glittering and amused. He quickly works your thighs apart, dipping two fingers between and sinking into your heat.

“There it is,” he chuckles when your eyes flutter, “Yeah... Really gets me off.”

You’re in his lap before you know it, your hold on him fallen off and now scrambling for his wide shoulders to hold yourself steady. He’s got you leaned back on his thighs, hanging off the edge of the bed and perfectly helpless, the only thing planting you even close to secure are your folded knees, your arms around his neck. He’s shushing you, one large hand on the small of your back, the other still working inside your pussy.

He says, “Calm down unless you want to fall,” but it’s goddamn hard when your heart is pounding with equal parts fear and arousal. He’s sucking on your tits, balancing you just precariously enough to thrill, fingering you all the while—like it’s nothing to him, like you’re an object he can manipulate however he pleases.

His cock is erect, flexing against the fabric over his groin, a swell of hard, aching muscle. You want to put your hand around it, feel its girth in your palm, simply hold it because you do fucking miss it. The places he can reach, the ways he spreads you, rocking in and pulling out—how he sometimes settles inside, and then does nothing but watch you squirm.

It’s undeniably gorgeous—and he is too—when you fumble it out after he lays you down and hovers over you with interest. You’re wetting your lips automatically, staring in awe at his thick shaft sprouting from soft, dark, curls, the tip of it smooth and almost purple, swollen up with blood.

“Legs up,” and the way he says it, how he just goes right out and says it, makes you groan.

Boys don’t do that. Too busy in their heads about peacocking and re-enacting the kind of porno where performers wordlessly move into new positions in sync, nothing verbal exchanged but high-pitched shrieking and nasally fuck me’s.

Ransom’s extremely verbal in bed. He easily says, “Look at me. Show me how much you want it,” and flits his eyes between your bodies.  

You do, shivering, sliding two fingers along the sides of your folds, finding yourself aroused and damp, humiliated and incredibly turned on when he grins, simply content with watching. Your thighs are squeezing reflexively, abdomen crunching up trying to keep it together.

But he’s never been patient, and quickly tells you to hold your knees, rock back, make yourself small and exposed, and then he’s delving gently into your hole— thumbs taking turns, coaxing more.

Two fingers tuck in, then another two struggle next to them, and you can’t stop yourself from gasping and crying out at how he pulls apart the walls of your cunt.

The sound of it— sloppy, squelching, a light and hollow kind of noise like a tongue flicking inside an open mouth.

“Look at this pretty pussy.” He tugs a little more, and you wriggle into it, gripping your legs tighter, pulling your knees up, shins toward your burning face to hide.

He descends on your clit, tip of his tongue licking into your stretched hole, purposefully only running against the taut skin around his fingers. “You got a talent, baby,” he murmurs, buzzing. “I could fuck you the whole day, fuck you numb… but give you about half an hour and it’s good as new, tight and perfect.”

There had been marathon rounds of bouncing in his lap between being at each other’s throats, his thighs splitting yours, hands holding you up, nibbling at your ear. Then he’d turn you around, take you to the floor until you collapsed on the bearskin rug, the sweat on your neck and chest rolling into dark furs. Railed you until you were so sensitive anything would make you come; your body unsure if it was considered your own anymore.

Fuck, fight, rinse, and repeat.

“Are you—going to talk all night?” You grunt up to the ceiling, trying to steel yourself from panting or moaning and only barely making it.

“Thought you liked it when I talked.”  His dark head is still between your legs, nose pressed into your skin, licking agonizingly slow with his entire tongue. It’s so warm, and gentle, and assertive. “What, you don’t like being told how good you taste?”

He keeps licking, pushing at the back of your knees when you try to switch positions, holding you in that bent up pose. He’s suckling at your clit when his fingers find their way back inside, easily hooking in three and pumping them smoothly.

“How—” he sucks hard, the shape of his full, plush lips fitted over you making a filthy wet smack, “mmm—I love the taste of your sweet pussy?”

When you come like it’s being ripped out of you, legs shaking around his head, lines of his spit dripping down your ass and onto the sheets, he lets you go with a hard slap on your sex, and you nearly wail.

“That’s my girl,” he says. “Yeah, you missed me, huh? You missed it like this, didn’t you? Tell me.”

“Unnng …” a high whine, “Ransom.”

“I know,” he mumbles, kissing up your belly, your neck, your ear.

He moves into position, entering effortlessly after all his prep work, and the shine of your juice still on his beard is fucking unholy hot. He’s grinning and panting, eyes fluttering briefly as he slides home.

“I know it’s big, baby. But you can take it, you’re gonna take it.” He’s a fraction unfocused, letting himself enjoy how you squeeze around him before he begins to punish.

Jesus, you missed this. Missed the agonizing drag of his shaft that feels like it goes on and on forever. Miss the way you get full of him, miss how it almost hurts.

His hipbones are hitting against yours, a steady fast rhythm because he’s experienced like that. Whereas some others might go faster when you’re close, Ransom stays at the pace that got you there in the first place. If anything, he pushes just a bit harder, makes you listen to the sound of his skin on yours, the choke of your breath he punches out.

You crunch yourself up smaller, toes touching the headboard now. Anything to get him further in.

“Fuck, you’re a slut,” he laughs. “Pretty little slut, god you don’t give it up like this for anyone else, do you?”

There’s not enough sense in you to argue even if you wanted to. The room is swimming, undulating, slipping further and further out of reach as the bed rocks and squeaks in protest. You’re sure you met a very handsome guy at the bar weeks ago but as soon as he started hinting that he was interested and stirred up conversation by asking your major, you left.

It just… wasn’t there. It wasn’t the same. No way in hell.

That boy wouldn’t have done this—wouldn’t be planting one foot on the bed, the other knee still down, enormous hands tight on your hips and crashing in.

You could cry, it feels so goddamn good.

Tears dribble their way out from the corner of your eyes. You turn your face enough to get a breath of fresh air, gulping it in frantically between the drive of Ransom’s cock and the half second he slides out.

You vaguely register his hand moving from your hip to your cheek, knuckles brushing upward.

“Oh,” he sighs, “pretty, pretty girl.” He slows his pace, nearly stilling. You squirm beneath him, inching away from how deep he is inside you, how intimate it feels as he kisses the hollow of your cheek and then toward your brow.

“So sweet for me,” he says, pulsing, making you whine with how he pushes against your sore walls. “Did I make a slut out of you? Huh? Make you stupid for my dick?”

“Make me come,” you say. “Make me—“

“Ask me real nice, baby. Ask daddy to make you come.”

You want to hit him. Kill him.

“No?” He whispers into the sensitive shell of your ear, “You don’t want it?”

You squeeze your eyes shut, embarrassment clawing up your face, but Ransom’s hold is tighter, sharper, and he really is— so fucking right. You want it. And he’s made you a little stupid, so yeah--

“Please make me come, daddy. I wanna come.”

The Cheshire grin that unfurls on his face is more panther than cat. “You wanna come on daddy’s big cock?”

“Yes, daddy,” you admit. “I wanna so bad.”

“Oh, that’s it, baby. You’re a good girl, aren’t you. You put on a little show just for me? Act like you don’t want it but soon as I get in you and you let me lay you out anywhere, make you say anything.”

You turn away but he’s got your fucking number— got you as a boneless, spineless mess beneath him as he begins to fuck you again, and harder, his calculating, beautiful, cruel face hanging above you like a fever dream.

“You gonna come? Gonna cry?”

He’s melting away, he’s everywhere, and the lights behind your eyelids are starting to glare and threaten to explode.

“Gonna come for daddy, huh. That’s it, baby. That’s my girl, let me feel your pussy— ah— there it is— you can’t help it, can you? Mmm, swallow daddy’s cock with your pussy.”

Your orgasm is a wreck of curses and teeth on Ransom’s shoulder when he drops down close enough to make contact. You shake and whimper, struggling to calm yourself through the aftershocks.

When you’re done, still floaty but more aware, the mess of your humming insides less tight around him, he pulls out and shuffles up until his swollen tip is at your chin.  

You obey wordlessly, and afterwards, when the flex of his shaft is tell-tale, and he empties into your mouth, you hold it there, show him the mess.

“Baby,” he says, slowly making his way back down, admiring the come submerging your tongue.

Ransom licks his lips, licks the inside of his cheek, and leans back over again, his eyes liquid darkness and pleased as punch. And he drops a line of spit on top, drools it down over your teeth, into your mouth, and says, “Good girl.”

-

“You need a new laptop.” He’s tugging his belt until the clasp hooks into place.

“I don’t.”

“It looks old.”

“So do you.”

He bristles, offended. And you try, with as much dignity as you can muster after the last two hours of being fucked blind, to not look so smug about it.

“See you next week,” he hums.

You don’t say anything in response, only listening for the same heavy footsteps slam back downstairs—perhaps a fraction lighter—and the clunk of the door swinging shut. A long breath and you stretch slowly, letting your body regain its normal shape before he bent you into a goddamn pretzel. A few minutes pass, and then a few more, and you hear the roar of his car speed out of the parking lot.

Safe now, out of his reach, you amble back up into your computer chair to face the awful white, blank document staring back like a judgmental audience. You slide in and crack your neck, feeling the throb between your thighs yield to a less uncomfortable ache.

The problem, you’ve learned after leaving Ransom’s world, was that you had been ill-equipped to play his game. His game, and by extension, Meg’s game. All the Thrombeys and Drysdales and everyone in-between.

They belonged to a class you couldn’t really understand unless you were making a fucking killing—and graduation was just around the bend, so maybe you would, one day—but you were in the red with 45 grand of student debt and staring down the barrel of a subsequent degree because it was getting hard to make it with just a single bachelor’s in anything.

There was too much to do and not enough time to be jerked around by Ransom—not nearly enough time to feel frustrated about your situation in any sense. No, scraping by taught you to survive. You couldn’t be whisked off to the Caymans for brunch, couldn’t be fucked raw in hotel infinity pools, get lost for days meandering the Pacific on luxury yachts for the fun of it.

Your world was a little more drab, a little less rose-tinted.

So it was back to normal now, back to the grind, back to not wasting any part of your week on shitty dates, shitty sex, and coming home more frustrated than you left it. Because there was Ransom, so eager to make some kind of statement about proving you wrong that he’d be the last to know when he’s being used.

And maybe 4 out of 5 therapists would say that your coping mechanism to a normal sex drive is unhealthy—mind-fucking and regular-fucking your ex/not-ex will do that—but you wouldn’t know. You can’t afford therapy just yet.

You rub your back, patting out the tightness of overworked muscles. It doesn’t feel any worse than the cramp you’d gotten after staying up three nights in a row cramming for finals.

As if your brain has reset, your fingers begin tapping on the keys, and you realize your writer’s block’s been lifted.

[bravo4iscool]

Hey hey, I'd like to give an idea!!

I know that a lot of people actually focus on ghost x reader stuff, AND THAT'S OK, but I've been thinking about some content of reader actually being Simon's kid or something. Because I only find content similar to it in very weird accounts that somehow turn those into incest fanfics, and it gives me the ick.

I'll understand if you just ignore this or not feel like writing it, I just felt like I wanted to bring this idea up because, well, why not.

I LOVE THIS!!! thank you so much for trusting me with this! i’ll try my best hahaha.

i love simon’s!kid fanfics and all those incest fics really are the bane of my existence😭. how tf do you come up with stuff like that lmao?

anyways, since you weren’t specific with the type of fic you want i’m gonna turn this into a (toxic!)singledad!simon!AU🫣

for this i’m taking inspiration from my favourite series ‘seal team’ and its main character the navy seal master chief jason hayes.

he (jason) has two children (one daughter and one son) and is anything but a perfect father. he tried to be better after his ex wive’s death but, well…

but i don’t wanna talk too much, let’s go🫣

readers nickname is nugget btw and they have a younger brother named jacob :)

(i hope you like this, i tried my best😭)

(masterlist)

REQUESTS/ASKS OPEN!!!

You sigh and shrug off your jacket. You’re drenched in water, a little puddle forming where you stand. You shiver and pull off your shoes with a grunt, hoping that you didn’t alert your dad.

“Hey Nugget.” You grimace when you hear your dad’s voice. You didn’t want him to notice you.

“Hi dad,” you quickly greet him, trying to squish past him but he grabs your arm, holding you back. You take a deep breath before you look at him. The sooner this was over the better.

“Why are your clothes wet?” he wants to know, looking you up and down, frowning at you.

“It’s raining outside,” you drily remark, clearing your throat when he hits you with a sharp gaze. You sigh, “You were meant to pick me up but you didn’t show up, okay? All my friends were gone and I needed to walk home.”

His grip around your arm weakens and he frowns at you again. “What do you mean, I was supposed to pick you up?”

“The way I said it. You told me you’d pick me up but you didn’t show.” You shrug. “It’s nothing new, no? Now, can I please go to my room? I’d like to change.” You wait for his answer but you get none. He only lets go of your arm, watching after you when you leave.

You peek into your brothers room before you walk into your bathroom and check after him. “Hey Josy. Have you eaten already?” you want to know, leaning against his doorframe.

He looks up from his game, smiling and shaking his head. “Nah. He came home like two hours ago. He hasn’t talked to me.” 

You roll your eyes, pushing yourself off the door frame. “Okay. I’ll quickly shower and then I’ll see what I can make. You good with that?”

“Jup,” your little brother answers, already too distracted by his video game again. You shake your head with a smile, heading towards your bathroom.

-

“You want something to eat?” you ask Simon when you start to rummage around in the kitchen. “Josy said he didn’t have anything so I thought about making some,” you tell him, barely waiting for your dad’s response.

But when you really don’t get one you turn around and and walk a couple steps into the living room. There you see him, peacefully sleeping on the couch, one arms dangling off the side and his mouth slightly agape.

You smile to yourself and carefully walk towards him to drape a blanket over him. You look at him for a second before you lift his head to put a pillow under it. Then you leave as quietly as you arrived.

When you call your brother for dinner you motion him to be quiet as he enters. “Dad’s asleep, I don’t want to wake him up,” you explain, setting Jacob’s plate down in front of him.

“Thanks,” he smiles, immediately digging into the food. “Y’know, you should become a chef with your cooking skills,” he smacks after some moments, nodding along to his statement.

You chuckle and shake your head. “You know that there’s no culinary school around here… Besides I can’t leave you or dad alone.”

Jacob only rolls his eyes at that, stuffing another fork of food into his mouth. “Sometimes I think he doesn’t even care about us.”

You immediately frown at your brother, holding yourself back from hardly scolding him. “Josy, don’t say that! Of course he cares about us! He’s just…” you try to find the right words to discribe your dad but, well… there was only one that came to mind. You sigh, “He’s just a bit difficult. You know his job…” You try to find excuses for his behaviour, knowing that it actually wasn’t but you didn’t want to hit your brother with the stone cold reality.

“He tries his best,” is the way you end the topic not knowing that Simon listened from the living room, his eyes filling with tears. Was he really that bad? Was he really failing that hard? Was he really so…unavailable to his children?

-

The next day you wake up your dad’s gone. No note, no information; he’s just gone. At first you didn’t think anything of it, he surely would be home in the evening but when he didn’t show you start to get worried.

You don’t tell Joseph about it, you keep to yourself and dial the Captains phone number. He surely could tell you where your dad was.

“Price,” he answers the phone and you let out a deep breath.

“Hi John! Is my dad with you?” you immediately ask, pacing up and down in your kitchen. “He hasn’t been home and doesn’t answer my texts or calls. I’m worried about him…” you tell the Captain, your eyes nervously darting around.

John listens to you and then tell you, “He’s not with me. We’re not due for deployment until almost two months,” he further informs you and your heart sinks.

“What do you mean, he’s not with you? Do you know where he is?” Your voice wavers and you feel your eyes starting to burn.

“I’m sorry Nugget but… I don’t know where he is…” You can hear him walking around, then he talks again. “I’ll keep my eyes out for him, okay? I’ll send someone over to you as soon as I’m finished here.”

“Oh, no no no, it’s fine. I- we don’t need someone, it’s alright,” you immediately deny, not wanting anyone else to know your dad was gone. “I’m gonna call Johnny, maybe he knows where he is. You don’t need to send someone,” you explain, chewing your nails—a habit you actually wanted to get rid of.

You can practically feel the hesitance of the Captain but after a couple seconds he agrees. “Okay. But I’ll look after you as soon as I can. I don’t want you and Joseph to be alone,” is his compromise and you can’t help but agree.

“I’ll talk to you again later, okay?” Price sighs. “Some recruit did shit and I need to fix it now.”

“Okay, yes.” You end the call, your hand wiping over your face in a state of panic. You didn’t know where your dad was, if he was okay or if he’d come back. You didn’t know how to look after yourself and Joseph, you probably needed to quit school to keep track of all the bills and-

“Where’s dad?” Joseph walks into the kitchen, headphones around his neck, munching on chips or something like that.

“He’s…at work,” you quickly lie, trying to hide you glassy eyes. “I don’t know when he’ll be back.” Jacob’s happy with that answer and opens the fridge.

“We gonna take the bus to school?” he wants to know, glancing at you.

“You’ll go alone today,” you tell him, handing him his lunch box. “I have an important appointment.”

“If you say so,” he shrugs, grabbing his backpack and leaves before you can properly say goodbye. As soon as you’re sure he left you grab your phone again and dial Johnny’s phone number.

As expected he also doesn’t know where your dad was but promises to to keep an eye out for him. Fucking hell, why did he just leave? Did someone shit in his brain or what? He’s never pulled something like that before…

-

Simon returns almost four months later. He didn’t know why he left. He didn’t know anything but one thing he did know was that he probably lost his children for good now…

His hands almost shake when he opens the door and he’s prepared for screaming and crying and breakdowns but when you see him your eyes widen and the mug in your hand falls to the ground.

“Dad,” you whisper and before he can even process everything you’re crashing into his arms, crying your eyes out.

“I’m sorry Nugget, I’m so sorry,” he mumbles into your hair, holding you close and never wanting to let you go again.

And you’re so close to forgiving him already; almost forgetting how you needed to quit school and take a job in the sketchy diner down the road. Almost forgetting how you cried yourself to sleep every night, trying to hide the disappearance of your dad from Joseph.

Simon feels how his hands start to shake and his eyes start to burn while he’s holding you; you’re crying in his arms and he’s so close to breaking down but then Joseph walks in.

“What do you want here?” His voice is cold, his gaze hard. He doesn’t flinch when your dad let’s go of you and straightens his back to his full height.

Your dad says nothing, only looks at his son, waiting for him to continue talking. “You left,” Joseph grits out, purposefully walking towards Simon. “You left and you didn’t even have the balls to tell us why!”

He was now screaming, his face red and his voice shaking. “How dare you come back now! How dare you!”

“Josy-“ you try to calm him down but he slaps your hand away, smacking his finger into his father’s chest.

“You think it’s okay to just leave? Nugget quit school to keep us above water while you were gone!” Joseph was now throwing pathetic punches at Simon’s chest, tears brimming him his eyes. “We needed you and you just decided to be a weak fuck and quit!”

Tears were running down your little brothers cheeks as he was hitting your dad chest and you wanted to pull him into your arms arms and comfort him but you yourself were shaking, your vision blurry from already shed tears.

“I’m sorry Josy,” Simon whispered, ignoring the punches his son was throwing at him, only pulling him into his arms and holding him close. “I don’t-“ his voice breaks. “I don’t know why I left. I’m sorry…”

Joseph shakes and cries and your heart breaks again. Carefully you walk towards them both, placing your arms around your brother. “We’ll be fine Josy,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his head. “We’ll be fine…”

When you were alone with your dad, once Joseph went to sleep you place a cup of tea in front of him and sit down opposite of him.

“You’ve got a lot to fix,” you tell him, your expression neutral, besides your shaking hands beneath the table. “You just…disappeared and that left its scars. Don’t think that they’ll be healed just because you came home again.”

He listens to you, nodding along and staring at his tea. “I know. And i’m keen on fixing it.” He looks up and you see his red eyes. “I’m sorry I led Nugget. I’ll make it up, okay? I’ll do my best.”

“I know,” you try to believe him but in the back of your head you’re reminded of all the times he didn’t keep his promises…

pt.2 lol?

[toscrollperchancetomeme]

Is there a life after IwtV Season 2?

So, Interview with the Vampire Season 2 is over, you have already rewatched it a dozen times and don’t know what to do with yourself?

Here’s a list of suggestions!

Read the books

I might be biased because I have been a fan since the early 2000s, but they are genuinely worth a read. A lot of people struggle especially with the first book, which I understand – but you can absolutely skip it and start right away with The Vampire Lestat! Especially The Vampire Lestat and Queen of the Damned are a great read and they are what is coming up next in the show. A lot of the plot of QotD happens at the same time as The Vampire Lestat, so I expect that material from both books will come up in the next season.

If you have a brain that enjoys audio books, they are actually available for free on youtube (though the narrator pronounces Louis’ name wrong). The version on the commercial audio book platforms read by Simon Vance is better though, if that’s an option for you. :)

The books after that are very much a mixed bag, but they all have some great and some downright crazy stuff in them, because Anne Rice’s writing was pretty unhinged at times. It’s a ride, but imho one worth taking.

Watch reaction videos on YouTube

I think I have by now watched all reactions that are available. For me it really brings a lot of joy to relive the experience of a first-time watch by proxy. Some are frustrating because people talk over important dialogue, some hold genuine galaxy brain moments by people who know nothing of the material. I will not recommend anyone, because vibes vary for everyone, but I’m sure there’s a reactor out there that YOU will vibe with.

Watch other shows/movies with the actors

Did you know that “Talk Radio”, written by and starring Eric Bogosian is available in full on youtube? I haven’t watched it yet, but I hear it’s really good.

For Sam Reid, I can’t recommend “Lambs of God” highly enough, and I hear great things about The Newsreader, which I sadly can’t get my hands on at the moment. “Belle” is also a beautiful movie, but his part is rather small as far as I remember.

Then of course there’s Hotel Portofino for Assad (but I’m not yet that desperate).

I actually haven’t watched anything with Jacob Anderson except Game of Thrones, which I will NOT rewatch, so I’m happy for suggestions there!

Watch the movies that have been namedropped by Rolin Jones

Hedwig and the Angry Inch – a phenomenal movie and stage show in its own right. It’s fun, it’s beautiful, it’s queer as fuck, the music is excellent and it’s an absolute must-watch.

Rocky Horror Picture Show – honestly, if you have never seen this movie, what are you waiting for?

The Dirt – Rolin Jones has mentioned the book, but there was actually a pretty decent movie made about Mötley Crüe a few years ago, that I really enjoyed.

Also, I have seen Amadeus mentioned several times, I’m not sure if that came up in an interview but it’s an excellent movie and the parallels to the relationship between Lestat and Armand are definitely there.

Honorary mention: Fight Club, not because anyone has mentioned it but… the parallels warrant an essay that I might one day have to write. (Themes: Queerness of male on male violence, imaginary boyfriends, idealization of toxic masculinity)

Read the books from Rolin Jones' reading list

I have now spent 10 minutes googling for that interview where he lists the books he’s reading for Season 3, but can’t find it. Someone please drop it in the comments?

Learn French

Want to feel closer to your favorite actors? Why not go through the same hell as them and get bullied by the Duolingo owl while at it? ❤

Discord servers

I’m not active there right now, but I have found several fandom servers that seem like great communities.

Read Fanfic

Honestly the reason this is down here is because it’s so obvious. :)

Get creative

Write fanfic, draw fan art, roleplay, edit videos, make unhinged memes!

And always: Support the content creators!

Everytime I scroll the tag I see new creators entering the fandom and let me tell you, after almost 20 years of drought, I am overjoyed. Same goes for fic writers, youtube reactors and reviewers! Leave them a like, a comment or whatever is available on the platform they are using.

Edit:

Watch the musical!

I completely forgot! There’s a Lestat musical by Elton John. Yes, you read that right. This lovely YouTube account has full bootlegs for you to enjoy some camp broadway fun!

[shininglikeyoursmile]

In the waves of your love , I wish to drown🌊🌊🌊

Pairing: Andy barber x reader

Warning: fluff and implied smut at the very end, no spoilers for defending Jacob.

Word count: around 300

Main Masterlist

A/n : I love him .

sorry for any grammatical error . No beta read , all mistakes my own!

Reblogs and feedback are always and most appreciated 🥰🥰🥰 please let me know what you think, dear !❤️

Not that it's a secret that Andy loves you

But he never misses any chance to show you how much

He always have his hand resting on your back , his touch providing a sense of comfort and safety

Always kisses your forehead like morning, evening, noon, night

He hugs you whenever he sees you , before leaving for work, after coming back, when you achieve something, when you smile

He makes you dance with him after you both finish dinner or in the meantime, when you're him make breakfast

When you both go out he does a little slow dance, without any background music , just both of you staring at each other, giggling at silly jokes or appreciating each other in your lives

His favorite move is the one where you rest your head on his shoulder, your back to his chest and both your hands intertwined with his , while he sways you both

Just before your date start he takes both your hands in his, kissing each one softly , while he stares intently. His gaze never falters even when you shy away and just when you scold him with a light chuckle followed by whine of his name he chuckles back at your reaction

He softly cups your face and leans in to kiss your lips softly, stroking your cheek with his thumb and humming in the kiss

He starts with how much he appreciate you, how beautiful you are not only in appearance but as in your personality too

He tells you that your smile is one of his favorite, and that always makes you smile

You both go out for ice cream or any desserts after your date while walking

You both find it comforting when you both talk while walking for a while

You both play silly games after finishing your deserts, finding an odd comfort when the sky turns black

Like hide and seek, catching each other , blindfolding the 9ther while the one laughs and giggles uncontrollably

The date are mostly once a week , you both agreed , but it could be any day if you want to

The only difference is the food and rest is same at home

Your home. Your Andy. And You

He brings you mini toys of Marvel characters, pens, diary , stickers cause he knows how much you like those

You both go shopping like twice a month , and he showers you with anything you ask for

Always holds your hand in public, a gesture you find comforting

And after your trips you both end up on the couch, cuddling, talking about stuff, or on bed with you screaming his name from pleasure....

[foli-vora]

run to you: chapter four

marcus pike x f!reader

A/N: thank you for being patient! shit is hectic in the brain right now, but fuck real life amiright? feels good to write again and to come back to these two. not a whole lot of marcus this chap, or a particularly long one, but it's all about the story building or something like that lmao. i still haven't updated my taglists so i apologise for that. if you've previously requested to be added for this story, please do so again via whatever coz my mind is all over the place and i'll forget to check the previous chapters. enjoy angels! x

Summary: Following on from ‘Traitor’ and 'You’re Somebody Else’. An unexpected visitor throws you right back into the life you thought you left behind. Working beside the man that put you behind bars is one thing, pretending like you never loved him is another.

Word count: 2.8k+

Warnings: the usual... angst, swearing, reader is a stresshead, golden retriever fbi agent who is bestie material, talk of lies/deception, brief talk of being arrested, flashbacks and the usual bitter saltiness one man brings to life in us

main masterlist | series masterlist

This story will have explicit sexual scenes in the future so 18+ only.

The sound of water running fills the empty silence of the bathroom, steam eventually swirling up from the spray and crawling along your ceiling. You pick at the paint dried onto the skin of your fingers as you wait, exhaustion creeping along the edges of your mind with an urge to pull you under.

It’s not as if the work had been hard, in fact, you had relished in the familiar buzz of music and paint strokes. It felt refreshing, despite having a number of works to get started on. So much of your time now consisted of working to pay the bills you only just managed to keep on top of, so there was little opportunity to enjoy your creative side.

No, the stress of the art had been lovely, the whole mental gymnastics and whirlwind of emotions because of him though?

Draining.

You hope Marcus won’t make a habit of waltzing in and screwing up your day. What did he even achieve coming in to get rid of Jacob? What was the purpose of his visit? Surely not to just get you to eat. There had to be some kind of ulterior motive here.

He’s a federal agent—of course there’s a hidden agenda somewhere. 

Well you won’t fall for it. Any of it. Not again.

You would remain on your high guard around him until you finished with whatever they needed from you and then all ties would be cut. You would keep communications curt and simple—there’s no need for unnecessary small talk and chit chat. You’re here to work, and that’s it. Hopefully, it will all be over soon and you can really put it all behind you for good.

The car ride had been spent in complete silence. Your eyes didn’t waver from looking out the passenger door window, and Marcus made no effort to break the uncomfortable energy lingering in the vehicle.

You didn’t even look at him when he eventually pulled to a slow stop outside your building, barely waiting for the car to stop completely before you pushed the door open and slammed it harshly behind you.

He didn’t leave until you disappeared into your building.

The anger still lingers, even after a somewhat decent heavy sleep.

He had deceived and tricked you, again. You had briefly trusted his word, believed his empty promise, and for what? It was all bullshit. Again. It’d been a mistake. It’s all a game to him—lies are all he knows. He seemingly lies as easy as he breathes, for it all to come so naturally.

What else is he lying about, giggling with his little agent friends? Is Jacob in on it all? He seemed friendly and decent enough, and happily kept out of your way when you asked him to give you space the day before, but then again, he wouldn’t be the first man to lure you into a sense of comfort as a ruse.

To hell with all of them.

You won’t be laughed at, not again, not this time.

This time, you were on to them. This time, there was no hiding behind a pretty face, fake ID and false backstory. You wouldn’t give them—any of them—the satisfaction of watching you fall again. Marcus, Jacob, the rest of the team—they won’t break you.

—

Agent Wilson is promptly on time as expected, noticeably upbeat and bouncy, standing just outside of your door in a freshly ironed dark suit and navy blue tie, holding out a carry tray of various drinks that you try not to react to.

It’s all fake—the kindness.

It’s a lie.

“Morning, Picasso!” He grins, “I wasn’t too sure what you’re into, so I grabbed a few choices: cappuccino, tea—English Breakfast, I think?, Chai Latte and a chocolate Frappuccino with extra cream. Although, I’ve kinda been eyeing the frappe on my way here, so don’t break my heart.”

You study the selection carefully before letting your eyes roll back up to meet his bright green ones, careful to keep your face blank of any and all emotion.

“I don’t want anything—I’m not thirsty.”

He blinks at your hard tone, clearly taken aback.

You try to keep a hold of the slight twinge of guilt that blooms in the pit of your stomach, carefully schooling your expression into something firmer, unbothered.

“Oh, okay. That’s cool, guess that extra cream is mine, then!”

The small slither of guilt grows at the slight look of dejection that passes over his face despite the force of the smile curling his lips, but you don’t dwell on it.

He’s one of them.

You had made sure to be ready for his knock earlier that morning, so you simply step out of your apartment with your bag over your shoulder and lock the door securely behind you, shutting him out from your space and keeping him from prying into your surroundings like he had done the day before.

“Do you need help with anything?”

“No. I’ve got it.”

“Okay then,” he murmurs, clearing his throat softly and turning to head to the elevator. “How did you sleep?”

“Fine.”

Silence follows your sharp response, and Wilson takes it as a clue to stay quiet for the rest of the trip to his car. He disposes of the drinks in a nearby trash can and the guilt doubles.

He’d gone to the effort of grabbing you a beverage, probably left his home early to ensure he could do so… maybe you should’ve just accepted one to keep the peace.

You slide into the car and buckle up, staring at the early morning events unfolding outside the windscreen as he slides in beside you and starts up the car.

It doesn’t move however, and you look to him in question, only to find him already staring expectantly at you.

A small wall of defence builds at his gaze, and you start to wonder if now will be the time he uses his authority over you and reminds you of your lowly position in this case. Maybe he’ll tell you that he knows everything, that you deserved everything you got—

“Are you pissed at me for leaving you with Pike?” He asks, and you can’t help the brief flicker of surprise. Okay, maybe not. “Look, I’m sorry—I thought he would’ve cleared it with you, but if you want, I can make sure it doesn’t happen again. I mean, I don’t have much say, but if you’re that uncomfortable I’m sure I can talk to someone—”

He’d do that? For you? You desperately try to come up with a reason why he would even bother. He’d gain nothing from it, the team wouldn’t either. What’s his play? Where’s the catch here?

Maybe there isn't one. 

A part of you refuses to believe that. The part that had been beaten and broken and had its trust torn to fucking shreds. He’s a federal agent, and they think of only themselves and their team. You aren’t a part of the team. You’re an outsider, a criminal. You’re nothing to them. 

Maybe he just genuinely wants to help.

Maybe. Maybe.

You sigh softly, and shake your head.

“No, it’s… it’s fine. I’m sorry, it’s not you. I guess I just… I’m just not feeling great about this whole thing. I’ll cut back on the bitchiness.”

He shrugs it off, another smile coming easily to his lips.

“Hey, if you’ve got history then it’s understandable. Just talk to me, okay? Let me know what you want. I’m here for you, it’s my job to keep you safe and happy, and if fighting my boss is what I’ve gotta do then so be it.”

You can’t help the pull of your lips at the mere image of it in your mind.

“You’ll fight him for me?”

He scoffs lightly, “Absolutely—I can take him. Just say the word, Dalí. I’ve got your back, clear?”

“Clear,” you reply softly. “I’m sorry, Jacob. I’m just not used to any of this. I uh… I don’t trust people very easily, and I’m having some difficulty adjusting to all of this.”

Understatement. It’s all a massive pain in the ass and exhausting.

“Yeah, I get it,” he replies, smiling comfortingly at you before pulling out onto the road and reaching for his drink, “but just know that I’m on your side here, okay?”

You nod quietly, not wanting to speak any more about it with someone who could be potentially relaying everything you say back to his team. Maybe they will take you down once this case is over, using the soon to be mountain of evidence as proof you’ve returned to less than legal painting activities. They’ll put you in for longer this time.

Shit, this is such a bad idea. You should’ve kept the fucking door shut the day Special Agent Pike came knocking.

You’re pulled out of the dizzying spin of your mind and its thoughts by a voice picking up in the car, breaking through the heavy dread quickly building in your system and pulling you from diving any deeper into the what ifs. 

Jacob sings along to the music, completely unbothered by your presence in the car and swaying to the tune. You’re thankful for it, in a way. Thinking for too long on any of it makes you feel sick, so this is a welcome surprise.

And also highly fucking amusing. 

“—hey Jude, refrain…”

He cuts off abruptly at your side eye, straw pausing just below his lips.

“What—you don’t like the Beatles?” he questions, almost shocked by the mere idea of it.

“I never said that,” you try to fight the smile, but it pulls at your lips before you can really help it, “I’d just rather hear them sing their song.”

“Ha, you’re funny,” he drawls sarcastically, rolling his eyes and sipping his drink before licking away the smudge of chocolate building up in the corner of his lips. “You know, when I was little, I wanted to go on American Idol.”

You choke on a laugh before you can stop it. “You did not.”

“I did. Thank god I didn’t—I’m not being remembered as a fucking idiot on YouTube for the rest of my life.”

“You don’t need American Idol, or YouTube for that.”

“Shit. Ouch,” he breathes, making a show of clutching his chest and giving you a playful grin, “okay, I see how it is. Now you can get the full show… NA-NA-NAA, HEY JUDE—”

—

“You’re behind nine weeks of payments. We can’t continue—”

Panic flares to life in your chest. You knew it was bad, you had the mounting bills building at home, but surely this couldn’t be it. They can’t just kick you out. There has to be something. You’d already maxed out your credit cards, you have nothing in the bank. Maybe they could do a payment plan, organise a scholarship or loan or something—

“No, please… I-I’ll work out something, I just—”

“I’m sorry,” the administrator gives you a look of sympathy, “but we can’t continue your education until payment has been sorted. Look, you’re a bright girl, you clearly have talent—maybe you’ll do okay on your own, without classes.”

“No, you don’t understand. This is all I have, I can’t lose this. Please, there must be something I can do?”

“Unfortunately not at this point in time, unless you can come up with this amount within the weeek. I’m sorry, I’ve held this off for as long as I can, but the debt is just mounting. We can’t continue with a promise of payment.”

You’re sure you can feel your heart breaking. You’d found some semblance of normality here… going to classes, doing fun assignments, meeting new people. It was the opportunity you needed, the chance to go further—

And now there’s nothing.

You sink into the chair, fighting the tears that build and clearing your throat to rid it of the uncomfortable feeling growing there.

“I understand,” you mutter, “thank you for your time.”

“Keep your head up, sweetheart. I’ll keep a spot available should you manage to work something out, okay? We’ll get you right back into it.”

There’s no way to work it out. Your job waiting tables paid pennies. You needed something more, something concrete, but with limited experience behind you and the requirements most places wanted nowadays, there was little chance of landing anything else. There’s just nothing you can do, short of robbing a bank.

You’d been expecting it for a little while, the stress continuously mounting with every bill that was sent to your door. You knew you weren’t paying for classes, you knew the debt was growing and growing. You just thought you had more time, more opportunity.

“I appreciate that, but don’t bother—I have nothing. Your waiting lists are huge, someone on there deserves their chance.”

You had yours, and you blew it.

—

Marcus is waiting outside the building.

Of course.

Your heart starts to beat harder in your chest. What is he doing here? He pushes off of the dark SUV he’s leaning against when he catches sight of Jacob’s silver sedan, and waits for you both to get out of the car when Jacob pulls to a slow stop.

“What do you want me to do?” Jacob asks quietly, making a show of reaching for, and struggling, with his briefcase in the backseat to give you a bit of time to answer.

You try not to look at him, doing a final check of your things that you’d previously already triple checked before leaving your apartment and deciding you've probably spent too much time dawdling.

“Can you just get me up there? I want to start my work,” you reply softly, grabbing the strap of your bag and reaching for the door handle, “but there’s not really much we can do if he wants to stay around.”

The breeze bites at your cheeks when you step out of the car, and you catch Marcus smoothing down his tie as you start to walk towards him. You feel your heart thunder with each step, resenting the way he could still stir those little butterflies awake in your stomach.

He’s attractive—that’s all it is. Your body is just simply reacting to it. There’s nothing there anymore. No feelings. Nothing.

“Good morning,” he greets quietly, a strained smile curling his lips, and you briefly decide that you prefer him with a bit of facial hair rather than a clean shave.

Not that it matters.

“Hello,” you return shortly, stopping just a few paces away and waiting for Jacob to catch up.

“I’m not staying,” he mutters after a few moments of further silence, his gaze darting past your shoulder to where his fellow agent walks around his car to reach the path. “There’s been a few developments overnight, so I’ve just come to check in with Wilson and then I’ll be going to the office. I won’t be coming back.”

Your reply is immediate and blunt.

“Good.”

It’s brief, but you see the flicker of hurt that passes through his eyes.

He drops his gaze from yours, desperate to look anywhere that wasn’t you, and soon the scuffle of shoes behind you brings his attention from you completely. It’s almost fascinating how instinctively his posture changes, hardening into something of an authority figure, hiding the swirl of emotions swimming in his eyes behind high walls.

You wonder if Jacob saw it. Does he see the difference between man and agent? Does he catch the certain mannerisms that change? Surely you can’t be the only one who sees it.

“Morning, sir. We’ll talk out here,” Jacob says firmly, coming to stand beside you and holding out a small set of keys, “she has a lot of work to do this morning and she wants to start immediately.”

Marcus blinks, his gaze darting between the two of you almost questioningly before he gives a slow nod, “Of course, that’s fine. I’ll let you get to it.”

You take the keys without another word and stride past Marcus, quickly letting yourself into the building and letting the door shut loudly behind you, dulling them to your senses and giving you a chance to breathe again.

Unrelenting heat washes under your skin, blood rushes through your ears until you can hear the heavy beat of your heart echo in the canals. You take a moment to gather yourself in the dark, quiet hallway, rubbing a hand along where your heart hammers against your chest.

When will it all stop? Would you ever be able to look at him and not feel an immediate burning sense of rage? Of bitterness? Would your mind ever forget the way he would say ‘I love you’? Would your body ever forget how he would touch you, kiss you? Would your heart ever just let it all go?

It would have to. Surely, it would have to.

Time was all you needed.

Once finished with this case, you would be once again free to move on—if you don’t end up arrested—, and forget there ever was an Alex. A Marcus. Whatever his name is. Time would take it all away. It would happen one day, you just had to be patient and wait.

-

Taglist 1: @maievdenoir, @javier-pena, @lv7867, @dihra-vesa, @katronautt, @radiowallet, @januarystears, @missminkylove, @beskarprincessjenny, @mswarriorbabe80, @danidrabbles, @amneris21, @eri16, @absurdthirst, @hnt-escape, @acourtofsnakes, @ezrasbirdie, @mstgsmy66, @lovesbiggerthanpride, @coaaster, @sherala007, @greeneyedblondie44, @wyn-n-tonic, @you-got-me-starry-eyed, @shirks-all-responsibilities, @withasideofmeg, @harriedandharassed, @andruxx, @buckybarneshairpullingkink, @spideysimpossiblegirl, @prostitute-robot-from-the-future, @tanzthompson, @mad-girl-without-a-box, @hope-for-the-best-98, @fangirl-316, @christina-loves, @jediknight122, @hallway5, @xoxabs88xox, @nicolethered, @churchill356, @massivecolorspygiant, @just-here-for-the-moment, @gracie7209, @pinkie289, @lavenderluna10, @goodgriefitsawildworld

[madebyrolo]

Chapter 10

ᨒ↟ ⋆｡° ᨒ↟ ⋆｡° ᨒ↟ ⋆｡°

It was the weekend before school starts, and y/n planned a hangout at her house and invited all the teenagers for one last summer night.

“Okay so we got chips, fruit, sodas, Bella’s bringing the s’mores stuff and Jake gots the plates. I’ll order the pizza soon.” Y/n told Tyler.

“Okay I set up the fire pit and get the extra blankets” Tyler said

Y/n walks into the kitchen grabbing the snacks to place outside on the table. After a couple minutes Jacobs arrives with the rest of the boys.

“The party is here!!” Embry says walking in slamming the plates on kitchen table.

“Alright kids no loud noises past 8 I don’t want no complaints. And be sure to clean up okay ?” Y/n dad announced walking down the stairs. “I’m talking to you Embry.”

“Yessir Mr.Issac!” Embry solutes him

“Alright I’m gonna go meet your mother for dinner. See you later” And he walks out the door.

“Guys come on I set up the game in the living room” Quill, Embry, and Seth followed Tyler.

“So I invited Bella” Y/n tells Jacob

“I see you guy hit it off at the beach?” Jacob says

“Yea she pretty nice, quiet and she brought a book to the beach how can I hate her?” y/n laughed

“Oh and I told her she can bring Edward too”

“You what?” Jacob said taken back

“Yeah, I thought since school starting soon it would be nice to know people.”

“Could of warned me, he’s like a leach to her” Jacob said with a disgusted tone

“Jacob I get you and Edward aren’t the bestest buds but please, we’re friends. Don’t ruin this.” Y/n pleaded with him

“Alright fine.” He sighed “I’ll be nice, thought I’m not gonna hold hands with him.”

“Good boy. So how’s the rest of the boys?” Y/n asked trying to mask the hate in the air with posible more.

“You know in their angst” he responded rolling his eyes.

“Well I invited Paul too by the way” she said looking away.

“Y/n really? After what I told you last week?” Jacob angrily said.

“I know, but then i saw him yesterday at the store when i was buying all the things and he ask and I couldn’t just not tell him and not invite!” She said acting like she didn’t want too.

“Fine, I see where you were coming from but let’s just hope he doesn’t show up.”

“Okay so chill out we don’t even know if he will” and on perfect timing the door bell rings.

“I’ll get it !” Embry yells from the living room

“Paul?” Embry said confused. Y/n springs to the door and greets hims.

“Hey Paul !” She says embracing him in a hug. “I’m glad you could make it” she says while Jacob slowly walks up behind her.

“Well when help is called I’m there” he jokes. Jacob and him meet eyes and they weren’t kind ones.

“Paul” Jacob said “Jacob” Paul replied

“Well this is gonna be a fun night!” Embry said looking at the boys.

“Come on in, sit down guys I gotta order the pizza” y/n said grabbing their hands leading them in the living room with the rest of the boys.

Y/n leaves dialing the pizza place leaving the room filled with tension.

“So Paul glad you can make it!” Jacob said staring at him sitting across the room.

“Yes well I was invited so it was rude not to come.” He said sternly

“Guys please not there” Quill commented

“Yea dont need a dog fight” Seth chimed in

“There’s a dog here I can say that”

“Oh you’re just mad you haven’t-”

“Okay guys I orders two pepperoni, one cheese and a pepperoni sausage. That should be enough right?” Y/n said entering the room cutting off Paul.

“Yeah that sounds good !” Seth said

“Alright it should be here in 20 minutes so around 7:10?”

There’s another knock on the door and y/n goes to open it and it’s Bella and Edward.

“Hey Bella! Cute outfit, it’s nice to see you again.” She said whiling pulling her into a hug. “And you must be Edward. I heard nice things about you” she said giving him a handshake.

“Same to you y/n. Thank you for the invite” Edward greets her.

“Come in! everyone’s in the living room playing videos games but you’re welcome to sit outside or in the kitchen.” Y/n tells them as they follow her in. As Edward looked in the living room he meet eyes with Paul and Jacob.

“Oh please I didn’t know the leeches would’ve been here” Paul scowled

“Tell me about it” Jacob agreed

“Y/n invited them, there her friends be nice guys. Besides the treaty line like meets here, it’ a practically a safe zone” Quill told them. That’s the only reason Edward agreed on coming.

The 3 sat in the kitchen chatting up talking about the upcoming high school year.

“Okay so it’s fine if I sit with you at lunch on the first day?” Y/n ask them

“Yes, Bella sits with me and my family so you’ll e able to meet them then.” Edward says

“Thanks, and you can show me around if able too?” Y/n asked

“Yea I know how it feels to be the new kid so don’t hesitate to ask any question okay?” Bella told her

“Ughh! You’re such an angel Bella.” Y/n said

“But warning, Roasalie isn’t prone to “outsiders” she likes when we keep to ourself to she might be a little feisty” Edward warned her

“Oh yea she was and still is like that with me but don’t mind her. Oh and I’ll introduce you to my other friend at lunch, I should warn you Mike can get a little too friendly and Jessica can get a little too not.” Bella said with a breathy laugh

15 minutes later the pizza arrives.

“Alright guys come outside I’ll set the pizza there” y/n said wobbling the pizza boxes.

“I’ll grab some” Paul offered his help

“Thank you Paul” y/n sighed

They boys grabbed pizza and sat at the tables on the porch while Bella and Edward stayed inside.

“Look at them, they’re like gum. Never apart” Jacob scoffed

“Leech indeed.” Paul agreed taking a bit from his pizza

“Guys you can’t blame them, they’re in love! You would be the same if it was you” y/n said sitting down between Paul and Jacob.

“I bet Jacob would.” Embry laughed

“Quit it Embry.” Jacob scolded him

“Nice kitties” y/n scolded them.

“Kitties ? Really come on” Paul said

“What like you got any better nicknames?”

“Anything better than kitty, and please we’re not pussys, were wolf at best.” Paul argued

“Yea I know with your pack.” Y/n said

“Both of the boys choked on their pizzas after hearing what she said. How would she know ? They thought.

“What do you mean pack?” Jacob said worried

“Jake you literally told me” she said with a small smile playing pushing him.

“Jacob told you what?” Paul said trying to content his anger.

“That you guys have your little clique basically. You and Sam the mean alphas ! And the rest of the boys the little nerds” y/n told them with small giggles

“Yea Paul nothing crazy” Jacob said hinting with with eyes that she didn’t know.

Couple minutes past and the sun is starting to set .

“Y/n I gotta go duty calls. Thank you for the pizza and the invite it was nice to see you” said Paul walking to the front lawn.

“Aww thanks for coming we have to hang out again!” Y/n gave him a small smile as he walk away.

“Goodnight drive safe!” She yelled enough for him to hear.

As she watched him drive off she walks by to the rest of the group, Bella and Edward finally outside.

“Hey you guys wanna set up the fire pit?” Tyler offered

“Yes let’s do it!” Bella exclaimed

“I’ll go grab the things” Quil jogged to the porch table and grabbed the smore supplies.

As they set up the fire which took awhile, they all just finally got along. Jacob somewhat being nice to Edward and the younger boys just being them. Bella and Y/n were starting to get closer just in time for their senior year she hoped to be the greatest. Forks was slowly becoming to feel like home to y/n. She has her Quiluete boys and new girl-friend Bella. She felt happy looking at everyone surround in her backyard with the fire pit giving a warm and cozy vibe. Some nice peace before school next week.

[hoonichi]

Hello :) !! idk if you still take request or no but could you do who is an ass or boobs guy?? in The boyz please ? Only if you feel comfortable ofc (Sorry for my bad English) I really love your writing too :)

hi! your english is very good! dw about it :) my requests are closed BUT i have written this exact thing so long ago and idk why i never posted it but maybe it was a sign for somebody to request it later on lmao, enjoy !!

ass: sangyeon, hyunjae, kevin, changmin, juhaknyeon, sunwoo

elaboration:

i have zero to none explanation why sangyeon is an ass guy but he just is. one of the few top fav sex positions is having you chest down, under him while he positions his cock in between your ass cheeks, fucking you slowly, not exactly giving you what you want/need:(

hyunjae would be the guy to sit you down on his lap when there’s no seats left in the car. actually no, scratch that, he would pull you down on his lap whenever he wants bc mhmhm loves feeling you press down on him.

i still see kevin as the most playful out of all of them so he would slap your ass at every given opportunity. struggles to control the urges to do so when you’re with your/his family bc hello?? that softy deserves a slap☝️

again, not sure why i think changmin is an ass worshiper.. it’s bc he’s a dancer 😎 no but you wearing skirts or anything short OR very tight clothes that bring out your proportions and changmin is on the ground, salivating like the touch deprived man he is.

juhaknyeon is on the same ‘slapping the ass’ train as kevin. honestly, he probably gets off of it too. the one to go absolutely crazy when you wear tight jeans and your ass just looks so holdable.

ahem, riding sunwoo with your back pressed against his chest while he controls your pace with his hands on your hips, but also simultaneously gripping and squeezing your ass because he loves it.

boobs: jacobus, younghoon, juyeon, chanhee, eric

elaboration:

jacob… my man jacob.. 😩 depending on your boobs like on life support. no pillow? here! your boobs are available, comfy as fuck for jacob to lay his head down. just really appreciates them, sometimes you think he loves your boobs more than you lmao.

younghoon looks like the guy to love leaving bruises/hickeys all over your tits till they look like a damn painting. and him just detaching himself to look at his masterpiece with that smirk of his? heaven if i must say myself.

have y’all seen juyeon’s hands?? do i have to say anything else?? god jesus fuck, enormous veiny af hands oh no do i have a thing for hands.. just imagining how easily they would cup your breasts, hiding them under his palms and squeezing them,, it’s like they were made to hold your tits<3

now chanhee really made me overthink bc he gives me the energy of both ass and boobs but hear me out on this.. a low neckline shirt/dress always makes him go horny bc he can see the silhouettes of your boobs and it’s like game over for him.

eric nuzzling his face into your chest when he’s sad or sulky or annoyed with something. again, gives me the loving vibes just like jacob. but i also kind of see him more on a freakier side, for example, cumming on your chest bc he loves how pretty it looks ☺️

[m3r1m4r5u333]

Buddie really is all about playing Scrabble, guys. Let's rearrange HILDY, and play it "on Scrabble"!

....

Chris: HILDY? Are we getting Hildy 😁?!

Eddie, scared: No, we are definitely not!

....

What could HILDY be? Play Scrabble. Rearrange the letters. Y hid L! "You hid love". That's the love story of buddie, "buddies".

Scary love. Hidden love. The kind you avoid admitting. Even to yourself.

Because it sparks between two men. Two "straight" men. Men who just telling themselves they are... Allies.

And because it's the kind of love that freaks you out anyway - falling for a friend. A buddie.

And because you've already experienced grief, and are scared to love again.

------

Buck and Chris are playing video games. It looks super domestic, like a little family.

Then Eddie freaks out about talk of "Hildy" and disconnects the game from the server.

Chris: "😐 Buck, can we go to your place and play video games?"

Buck: "Uhh sorry, kid. I think we're gonna be playing it "old school" for a while...

Chris: "What's "old school"?

Buck: ...Have you ever heard of Scrabble?"

Rearrange the "letters", folks. ✉️🎬 See what "HILDY" is. Moments out of order, love that's still hiding.

....

Eddie: Somehow, we became a ready-made family... And I... I don't know if I'm ready for that.

....

Buck: Eddie. I have been Ana. I know what it's like to be in love with someone who is not all the way in.

...Deep down you know it, and it hurts. It hurts worse than the truth. So if you don't want to hurt Ana, you owe it to her to be honest.

...

Eddie: I don't know. Just feels like a lot, man!

Buck: Well. Go to sleep. No need to decide right now! It's not like we're going home anytime soon!

...

Then these two themes that come up, repeatedly."I see you"/"I don't even know what that means!"

"Isn't that what we all want in a partner, to be seen?"

(Lola threatening to jump off a bridge, next to a sign she made: "SEE ME NORMAN!")

"Lola! Lola honey, it's me! I'm here. And I see you, just like the sign says!"

"Liar! You look right through me, Norman. You don't even notice me!

I'm just around to... To collect the mail!" (Or... Male? Go listen to the very queer love triangle coded song Copacapana by Barry Manilow. There's a famous "Lola"...)

"I don't even know what that means! ... I'm the one who brings in the mail?

... I see you, Lola! I notice you!"

.....

(The song lyrics: Don't go chasing waterfalls... Please stick to the lakes and the rivers you're used to...)

To Buck, still in the closet: "Don't go chasing waterfalls, Buck!"

Buck: "I don't even know what that means!"

------

That scene with closeted Tommy:

He's asked if he's ever considered that maybe he is more "team Jacob" than "team Bella"?

Tommy: I don't even know what that means!

-----

Then the concept of finding true love, and cherishing it.

"Love, actually... is all around..."

Buck, Actually:

Thomas: "He can't go! He's my heart, my everything...

Thomas: ... When we got married? We thought what the hell. We have so little life left. Might as well live it.

That was Mitchell - always daring the clock. And I, always following along. All those foolish things we did... We only ever wanted to go together. That's love.

Buck: "I guess I can only hope to find something that good."

Thomas: "You don't find it son, you make it."

-------

Thomas dies of broken heart syndrome.

Buck: "....That's love!"

----

And then love being SEEING. "I c u."

The scrabbled letters we've been watching, of falling in love, stupidly, in the closet.

Falling for a friend, not realizing it. Refusing to admit it.

Hiding it, even from yourself. Being afraid to see it. Running from it... The way you really feel about this "buddy".

Their almost instant connection, promising to have each other's backs:

Here's Eddie, having a panic attack at the fire station in the dark due to a power shortage. Looking at Buck as his most current girlfriend, Ana, says this line:

Buck's line about looking good even in bad lighting, the first day they meet.

Now, many of these scenes are from Buck's episode Buck, actually. An obvious reference to the movie Love, actually.

Quote from Love, actually;

"When the planes hit the Twin Towers, as far as I know, none of the phone calls from the people on board were messages of hate or revenge – they were all messages of love.

If you look for it, I've got a sneaky feeling you'll find that love actually... is all around."

---

That scene with the old men, deeply in love, dying together? The one left behind saying love is something you make, together. Saying love is everything. Saying life is short.

..…

Buck and Eddie. Buddie. The ship name really fits them. It's a love story but of "buddies", friends, falling for each other. Confused, scrambled. Playing Scrabble. Refusing to admit it.

Sometimes you fall like that. Sometimes love materializes in the dark, before you're ready for it. It scares you. It avoids your notice. You hide it, even from yourself.

But it's there, waiting to be discovered. A hidden treasure. Something precious to you, buried. And slowly, you open your eyes, see it, without flinching from it. Gather that courage. Even if it scares you... You open your eyes. Because you must. Because love is everything, and life is short.

[felonytaxevasion]

Arc 1 - Bonds

My assorted commentary on the first chapter of Pact for my mutuals who were interested in my thoughts. Testing out formatting this might be mess thank you for your patience.

As always no spoilers please thank you <333

This is technically my second time reading this but I wasn't paying attention the first time so I wanted to start over

1.1

“My children are useless,” she said. She was so dismissive and casual about it.

First of all. Icon. I absolutely love wretched old women and I love having the foresight of knowing practitioners cant lie meaning that this is presumably an objective evaluation of her children's capabilities. I'm also gonna watch out for Blake's mom and Aunt Stephanie though. They aren't included in that statement so maybe we can have an evil magic milf era. Like in Umineko. I love Umineko.

If anything I’d said had an impact, it was that. I could see the faint amusement drop away from her. “Are you accusing me of being a liar, Master Blake?”

aHA BECAUSE PRACTITIONER RULES

It was well after dark when someone stepped outside to talk to me. I closed out of the puzzle game I was playing on my phone. The brightness of the screen made for a dark patch that lingered in my vision as I looked up. Eleven-fifty at night.

This is an interesting writing choice because it's clear that a lot of time has passed but not exactly how much. Which adds mystery to the question of "was Rose planned all along or did Rose Sr. make an impulse choice after talking with Blake.

Also I really wanna know. When Rose met Ivy did her parents bring her in and talk or did they just set the baby on the bed and leave.

“Molly! Don’t be rash!” Aunt Irene admonished her. “I don’t want it,” Molly said, again. She grabbed the footboard of the bed. “No.“ “Molly, don’t be silly.”

Molly is one of the biggest reasons I don't want spoilers. Everything about her is so interesting. She was the first choice but she died very quickly. But not THAT quickly. Was Rose 2 always the plan and Molly was the sacrificial lamb to pave the way or was Molly just genuinely the best choice to become heiress. She survived for four months which is, if Pact is paced similarly to Worm, long enough to survive Leviathan, The Slaughterhouse Nine, Coil, and Echidna or whatever their equivalent in Pact land is. And that is no small feat. Like obviously I'm assuming here but I can't imagine the combined forces of Jacobs Bell were just letting her chill. I have so many questions about her and I want answers to none of them.

The blonde woman opposite him folded her hands in front of her. “That was… noteworthy in scale. Kind of her to point the way, but she was never crude. We’ll need to know what she did before we move on.”

THIS SHIT RIGHT HERE. Noteworthy in scale. Rose is not a small feat. Why are she and Blake positioned as the backup plan. Thinking so hard

“Funny thing, Maggie,” Padraic said, and when he smiled, the expression extended further than it should have. The smile too wide, the eyes too long and narrow. “When something momentous occurs, it can be the equivalent of lighting up the night sky, scattering fog and clouds to the horizons. You can see more clearly… but when you look, they can look back, too.”

Maggie and Padraic are some of my favorite characters based on vibes alone. I just know they're going to die so horribly so early on. At least Maggie.

“Mm,” the man in the throne said. “‘Lo, stranger. Listen, I don’t think you should believe what any of them say about me. If you need help, I can offer it.” “For a price,” the dog added.

Now see Johannes I would love to give you the benefit of the doubt however I know for a fact (a pact fact!) I have not seen any fanart of you making out sloppy style with Blake Thorburn and as such I find it hard to believe you are his ally. The wildbow ecosystem is too yaoi deprived to not jump on that pairing unless you're some type of fucked up.

“Run,” she said. “Get to the house, now.” “Which house? Who-” “Molly’s dead,” she said. “You’re next.”

HAI ROSE

1.2

I actually don't have much commentary on this chapter other than RIP to BlakeRose but I would happily take the deal to become a creepy bird monster. That's the ideal living situation actually.

1.3

The first sheet had only a simple message, penned in a curling script I almost envied. ‘Birth date’. I tried the year I’d been born. It didn’t work. Day, month? One-eight-oh-one.

...

“Molly!” I hollered, loud enough I should have been audible throughout the house. “Anyone!?” No response. Somewhere, in my general confusion and the mess of stuff I didn’t know or understand, I’d hoped that Molly being alive would be one of those things that caught me off guard.

Not to needle at his grieving process but I'm pretty sure the fact that it was His Birthday Not Molly's that opened the door was a pretty clear sign

I shook my head. “No clue. Something to keep in mind. After stipulations, there’s a section on stipend, with a regular allowance, notes on how often the lawyers can be called without incurring a debt. Oh, right here. A mention of the bird-skull monsters.” “What?” I could see Rose move, standing from her seat. “I’m joking,” I said, with zero humor in my voice.

I think Wildbow should do what visual novels franchises do and make a non canon crossover beach themed spinoff episode with all his characters. I want to see Blake and Lisa be cunty together

My friends were artists and artistic types. I had the unfortunate distinction of being a less than stellar artist. But I’d owed them for the help and support they’d given me, and in helping them with their jobs, I’d stumbled onto a bit of work. Setting up their work, installations, as well as all the other grunt jobs. Sure, they could go to a carpenter to get something put together in the way of a display stand, but that carpenter wouldn’t necessarily know what was at play with the art. Along the way, I’d settled into being a go-to handyman and delivery guy in the local art community. I knew the gallery owners, I knew who was who, and if I couldn’t do a job myself, I knew who to call. Not so glamorous or fancy, not exactly stellar pay, but I had stupid little skills that I could use here. In a pinch, I could use my stride or my arm length to help me figure out measurements, thirty three and a half and thirty-two and a half inches, respectively.

So fun fact I was a gallery tech assistant for about three or four years in high school and I would just like the record to state. A. Wildbow you captured the gallery tech mentality exactly. Tired, sassy, and overall filled with peculiar useful skills. 100% accuracy rate.

Also Blake please call your friends sooner rather than later. The blond gallery tech who works for cheap going suddenly missing is going to DEVASTATE that community. Blake you are a protected species under the wildlife conservation act and the human equivalent of catnip for bisexuals with an art history degree you are the foundation of that community and they are going to be CONCERNED

1.4

She looked a little agitated, nervous. “I think we can go this route. Avoid getting into the ugliest stuff, the books on demons and whatever else. If witch hunters and inquisitors can survive this sort of thing, maybe we can too.” “Borrowing power instead of using it?”

I'm trying to figure out if Rose II is in on it. Because like. She should be right? But then she says things like this that make it sound like she really is just as lost as Blake

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m kind of attached to you, metaphysically. You die, I’m going to be a goner too.” “You think. Either way, I’m the one who got injured,” I said. “I’m the one who has stitches in my hand and a cut on my face.” “At least you’re alive,” she retorted.

They've so immediately become siblings.

Which by the way. If Blake and Rose are fucked up twins of a sort. I have questions about Paige and Peter. Especially seeing as Paige is considered a non starter for Rose Senior

“In this scenario, we’ve got a situation involving a number of countries. If you will, there’s America. I’m rather interested in America for the purpose of this discussion, but that’s just me. Powerful, perhaps overly proud, large, keepers of the peace.” I glanced at his uniform. “Sure.”

Close enough. Welcome Back Victoria Dallon!!

1.5

“It smells like a rose,” a man announced, “It’s as beautiful as a rose. I dare say it’s as fragile as a rose, once you get past the thorns. But is it really our Rose?” I turned. Three twenty-somethings, if I went by appearances, were approaching me from behind. I might have been off. Each had alcohol in brown bags.

I want to be one of them so bad. I want to join the fucked up Fairie gang.

“No,” I said. I grabbed one of the books from the coffee table. “Anger is good.” “Good?” “It keeps us moving. You read the book on implements, I’ll read up on familiars when I’m done Essentials.”

True gallery tech mindset <3

1.6

“Blake!” Rose’s voice, from the living room. “You have to help him!”

This is one of those passages that makes me think Rosie is in on it. You've read more than Blake how has this being an other trap not occurred to you

1.7

Should another practitioner need to bait him again, know that this author used: a pile of festering boar carcasses, six feet high, each carved with his name when well into their state of decay, the decay timed using refrigeration to be roughly parallel; seven jars of burning hair, resupplied keep the flames perpetually alight

Yea who hasn't been here at one point

“To everyone and everything that’s listening,” I said. I heard Rose start speaking behind me, but my words drowned hers out. “To me, and to nobody in particular, I’ve gotta say, I didn’t choose this. I’m doing this for family, to respect them as they were in the past, when my cousins were also my friends, so the others don’t face what Molly did. I’m doing it to respect stuff in the present, because even if I dislike my cousins, I don’t want them to have to face this situation and get killed off. I’m doing this for the family that comes in the future, so my kids and all our descendants don’t have this debt hanging over our heads. Above all, I think I’m doing this for my real family. For the friends I made who gave me support when I needed it most, so I can demonstrate what they taught me. Past, present, future, and… more abstract.”

Guy who can only hate his family this much because of how much he loves them Augh Augh

I could hear Rose behind me, still talking, as if she were very distant. “-than a vestige.”

SUSPICIOUS

“It doesn’t matter,” she said, quiet, “because it’s not blood. I’m not offering anything worth taking, and there aren’t any spirits here to listen and obey, are there?” “There are other options, maybe?” “It doesn’t matter,” she said, again. “I don’t care anymore.”

But then this is the opposite of suspicious because she can't lie but she's saying it didn't work and she wants to give up hhhhhhh Rose you are so slippery to understand

Gathered Pages

I didn't highlight any particular passages but Rose Senior I love youuuuuuuu

[twilight-at-midnight]

Edward Cullen x reader

Pairing: Edward Cullen x reader

Warnings: None

Requested: Yes

Request: @jamiebarnesws

***

Your new life as a vampire started shortly after turning eighteen years old, knowing you’d be stuck on that number forever, you wanted to make the best of it and bring good into this world.

However, because of the age you were at the time you had changed, it had you developing a mental trauma. A little while later, you started hunting down newborns, mostly teenager ones who couldn’t control themselves as you brutally kill them. It didn’t feel right in the beginning, but than you started seeing this more of a calling and what you were meant to do for the world. You believed you were doing a good deed for the world by making the streets a little safer to walk on day or night.

As you would hunt them down, you would turn it into a little game as a source of entertainment. At first, you start out by chasing them mockingly as you knew they were very much aware of your presence, which is followed by a hysteric and manic like laughter sprouting from your dead lungs. When it finally leads to the deadly encounter with you in dark alleyways, you take that opportunity to sneak up behind them and rip their heads from the rest of them before starting the fires. This activity unexpectedly begins to scare you a little, but fighting against the urge for a kill is stronger than your resistance as you continue doing so. You kept this up until after meeting your mate, Edward Cullen. Even the first little while of your relationship with Edward started off a bit rocky, as you both realize how mentally unstable you are and soon enough, the rest of the family had become aware before they had started to do whatever to help you overcome these urges.

Instead of giving up on killing completely, you had switched from killing newborns to killing the criminals that walked the streets, some even involved the most dangerous street gangs. You kept this hidden, or at least you tried to as you keep forgetting Edward can read minds. After finding out this side of you, he confronts you and you admit it with such shame you never felt before. Once the dark secret was out, Edward had come up with a solution that could either work in your favor or do the complete opposite. The idea was to attend Forks High School together as new students, and that’s where you meet best friend, Bella Swan.

You shared more classes with Bella than you did with Edward. How you meet is quite amusing, it was during gym class and you were playing volleyball. When she smacked the ball over the net, it hit you and she immediately comes to you with rushed, yet sincere apologies.

“I’m sorry! I told them not to let me play.” Bella says.

“It’s fine, really. No harm done.” you promise, smiling reassuringly at her.

From them on, you both become about as much inseparable as you and Edward were, loving the fact you studied at the same school together.

Not long after Bella learns of the vampire world, you trusted her enough to tell her of your past while expecting harsh judgment. But you were pleasantly surprised when she sat there with you, listening to you with any judgments whatsoever. Bella was your next go to for a shoulder to cry on, she was a good listener, best friend. In return, you offer her your ears as well and little advice.

Edward was pleased with the fact the solution was solved, and so it was.

***

@twilight-at-midnight

Requests: open

Characters:

• Edward Cullen

• Carlisle Cullen

• Emmett

• Jasper

• Alice

• Rosalie

• Bella

• Benjamin

• Vladimir

• Stefan

• Jacob

• Victoria

• Riley

• Aro

• Marcus

• Caius

• Alec

• Jane