#so if anyone recognizes it and knows where it's from pls let me know

[elsiewritesss]

pls anything angsty.

i 100% went overboard with this one but this is hands down my favorite thing i have ever written.

Look of Love

pairings: vinnie hacker x best friend reader

warnings: angst, swearing (minor), brief violence (literally a single punch), name calling... i think that's all????

not giving a summary this time just read it omg

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Vinnie let out a sigh as he walked up the stairs into the venue of the wedding hall. The boy gazed in awe looking at all the green and gold that decorated the rows of chairs in the predominantly white hall.

The chandelier that hung from the ceiling and perfectly centered by the altar. The small wooden pergola at the altar that was scattered with green vines and white flowers with small touches of gold in the center.

The boy swallowed at the sight of the altar, tearing his gaze away as he glanced around at the other guests that trickled in. He made his way down the white runner that laid pristinely down the aisle while glancing at the name cards that sat on the white and gold chairs.

Vinnie reached the front of the seating, glancing at the first chair to his left where his name card sat. He felt the corner of his lips curl up as he recognized the handwriting of Y/N.

Gently, he picked up the small piece of paper, and sat down with it in his hands. His eyes wandered around the venue.

This is so Y/N

He thought to himself as he observed the floor to ceiling windows and the wooden beams that ran across the ceiling.

Y/N.

His best friend.

Vinnie felt his stomach turn at the thought of her name.

When he first got the invite, nausea flooded his body. Even though he knew the wedding was happening, seeing the invite made him dizzy. The full body urge to not show up was very convincing to him. However, he knew he had to show. Not for anyone but her. He had to be there for his best friend.

Vinnie looked down at the name card, playing with the corners of it mindlessly before hearing hurried footsteps get closer and closer to him, making him glance up.

“Thank goodness you’re here.” Y/N’s mom rushed out, breathing in relief at the sight of the boy.

“What’s wrong?” Vinnie asked, eyebrows furrowing with concern as Y/N’s mom moved her hands in a ‘come here’ motion.

“Follow me. She’s freaking out. She needs you.” At the mention of Y/N, he quickly stood from his seat, dropping the card on the ground carelessly as he followed her mom back down the aisle and towards the back rooms of the venue.

Vinnie eyed the group of bridesmaids that littered around the door with the slight panic tension filling the air.

“Y/N open up!” Her older sister shouted, banging on the door.

No response.

“Watch out.” Vinnie spoke, making his way up to the wooden door.

“Oh thank god. She kicked us all out.” Her sister replied, moving backwards as Vinnie held his fist up to the door.

3 knocks. Pause.

2 knocks. Pause.

1 knock.

Their own knocking combination they came up with years ago.

Vinnie lowered his arm and closed his eyes. Waiting for some type of response before hearing the soft click of the lock.

He looked back at the bridesmaids and her mom. Giving them a small nod before turning the silver door handle, opening it up just enough for him to slide in. Once he got in, he shut the door and locked it again.

Letting out a breath, he turned around, stopping immediately in his tracks as his entire body froze.

Y/N.

All dressed in her wedding dress. the white lace that scattered among the top of her torso in a corset that hugged her snuggly. The end of the lace flowing into a cascade of white tulle that shimmered slightly in the light.

Her hair was styled in a low bun of some sort, Vinnie not knowing exactly what to call it, with small curled pieces hanging to frame her face.

He was in awe of her. She looked absolutely stunning, and that to Vinnie was still an understatement.

She was and has always been so beautiful to him.

“Vin,” The boy snapped out of his gaze as his eyes found hers from across the room.

“You look beautiful bug.” Vinnie spoke, clearing his throat as he shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Thanks.” Her voice was so soft, slightly above a whisper as Vinnie walked towards the couch, snapping and pointing to it as a signal for her to sit with him.

Vinnie sat at an angle, his face towards hers as she sat straight forward, eyes focused in front of her.

“What’s up? Talk to me.” He spoke, watching as her shoulders raised up and down from the breath she took in.

“I don’t know.” She shook her head slightly as her mascara clad lashes closed together before opening again.

“Okay. Well let’s try this. What’s going through your mind right now?” Y/N lowered her face into her hands, eyes darting randomly around the dressing room as a beat of silence fell upon the two.

“I’m scared.” Vinnie could barely hear her voice. Those two words made his heart hurt as he furrowed his brows at her.

“Of what bug?” The nickname he gave her at the start of their friendship when they were in their early teens as she was obsessed with butterflies, lady bugs, and caterpillars.

“What if I’m making a mistake?” The girl looked up, her big watery eyes locking with Vinnie’s. The sight of her eyes brimming with tears on what is supposed to be the happiest day of her life made his chest ache.

“No no, no tears sweetie. Don’t ruin your makeup.” Vinnie shook his head lightly, leaning forward to the table in front of them to grab a tissue. The boy scooted toward her to lightly dab the tissue under her eyes, making sure to not smudge any of her makeup out of place.

He set the tissue on the table, placing his hand on her back as he rubbed soothing circles on her warm skin.

“Listen bug, I know this is a big change and an even bigger moment for you. But babes, this is what you’ve always wanted. Ever since you met Brad you’ve told me you wanted to be with him and marry him.” As Vinnie spoke those words, he felt his own heart start to crack. Knowing he shouldn’t be comforting her about another guy.

“Brad loves you Y/N. And I know you love him. I know it seems scary but you can do this. If there is anyone who can do this, it’s you.” Y/N looked up at him, her stomach turning in some way that she couldn’t pinpoint the feeling.

At the same time, she felt comforted. Vinnie was always the person who could calm her down and talk her out of her crazy impulsive mind.

Through the two heartbreaks she went through, the first date with Brad, first argument, the engagement, and now the wedding…Vinnie was there through it all.

When she had emergency surgery to remove her appendix back when they were sixteen, Vinnie refused to leave the hospital until visiting hours were over. He spent the night every night, making sure she was comfortable and had a smooth recovery.

When her childhood dog passed away, Vinnie was there with his arms around her and whispering “I’m here” to her until her cries stopped.

When she found out she got accepted into her top college choice of Pomona University for pre-med, her dreams of becoming a pediatric heart surgeon on its way, Vinnie was the first one to hug her. His strong arms securing around her as he picked her up and spun her around yelling “that’s my girl!” as she squealed in excitement.

“I don’t want to lose you.” She whispered, a lone tear slipping past her lashes as it trickled down her face slowly. Vinnie’s thumb was quick to wipe it away gently to not ruin her makeup.

“You will never lose me bug. I’m always going to be here.” Vinnie’s voice was just as gentle as hers, every word laced with trust.

Y/N felt uneasy. Vinnie and Brad never got along. Brad always feeling insecure by the best friend of his fiancé.

“But I know how you and Brad don’t like one another. Brad always argues with me whenever you and I are together. I don’t like it.” Vinnie shook his head, a hint of anger swirling in his chest at the thought of the dark haired boy starting an argument over being insecure by him. He should be insecure, because he’ll never ruin or get rid of his and Y/N’s friendship.

“That doesn’t matter Y/N. I know you don’t like it, being torn between the two of us and wishing we could work something out to be civil. But that doesn’t mean you’re ever going to lose me. As much as Brad and I don’t like one another, he can’t stand to see you unhappy or upset. I can’t either. That is always one thing we can agree on.” Y/N let out a breath, uneasiness still filling her stomach as she continued to look at the boy beside her.

“Promise?” The girl held up her pinky to him.

“Promise.” Vinnie held his hand up, securing his pinky in hers as the two of them kissed their thumbs and touched them together.

“Come on sweet thing. Let’s get you to the altar.” Vinnie stood up from the couch, moving to stand in front of her as he held his hands out for her to take.

She placed her hands in his, allowing him to pull her up with ease as her dress fell down around her in a pool of white.

Y/N leaned forward, wrapping her arms around his middle as the side of her face softly pressed against his chest.

Vinnie felt his eyes begin to water. His arms instantly wrapping around her shoulders tightly as his chin rested on top of her head.

“Thank you Vinnie.” Her voice was mumbled against his chest but loud enough for him to hear.

“Of course bug.” He closed his eyes to prevent the tears from slipping.

The two unwrapped their arms from each other, looking at one another as they both took a deep breath together.

“You ready?” Vinnie asked, moving one of the face framing curls from behind her ear to rest against her beautiful face.

“Yeah.” She gave him a small smile, to which Vinnie returned, leaning forward and placing a soft kiss to her forehead.

“Let’s get you married.” Vinnie moved, walking to the door. Just as he grabbed the handle, Y/N called out to him.

“Vin,” He turned, looking at her as she fluffed her dress around her.

“Hm?”

“Love you.” Vinnie smiled, his heart fluttering at those two simple words. If only she meant them deeper than just as a friend.

“Love you too bug.” He meant them. He meant them more than anything. He loved her with everything in him and has for the past three years right before Brad asked her to be his girlfriend. His feelings finally coming to light and him accepting them after years and years of denying them.

But there was nothing he could do about them. Not now, not ever.

Vinnie opened the door, the entire group of girls in dark green dresses looking at him as he walked out of the door, Y/N following him.

Vinnie didn’t stop walking. He walked back into the hall, ignoring people looking at him as he went back to his seat.

Y/N stood there outside of the door, watching her best friend walk away back to his seat.

Her chest ached with another indescribable feeling. The usual comfort whenever Vinnie was around vanished, leaving her feeling somewhat empty.

Vinnie sat back down in his seat, picking up the name card and shoving it in his pocket as he sighed lightly.

“Is everything okay?” Vinnie’s mom, Maria, leaned forward, her voice quiet.

“Yeah.” Vinnie spoke, keeping his head forward as he swallowed. The nausea in his stomach returned, making him focus on something other than his feelings.

The music began and Vinnie closed his eyes gently to pull himself together before opening them back up.

Vinnie watched as Brad walked down. His dark hair standing out with his light grey suit. When he got to the front, he looked Vinnie’s way, eyeing him up and down before standing in his spot. Vinnie only rolled his eyes, already wanting this to be over.

He watched as each person walked down the aisle, Brad’s mom, Y/N’s mom, the bridesmaids, the groomsmen, the maid of honor, the best man, the ring bearer, and the two flower girls being the two sisters Y/N babysat in her free time.

The music shifted, the officiant raising his arms for everyone to stand. Vinnie felt his legs go numb as he forced himself to stand up beside Y/N’s mom.

The glass doors opened and there she stood arm and arm with her father, clutching her bouquet of a mixture of white roses, baby breaths, and greenery tied together by the white ribbon.

Even though he just saw her, Vinnie still felt his breath be taken away by her.

Wow.

That’s all he could think about. His eyes stayed on her as the pair slowly walked down the aisle. Y/N holding on to her dad’s arm anxiously as she looked at Brad standing there with his hands held together in front of him.

She held his stare for a minute, that same uneasy feeling flooding back into her chest making her divert her eyes. She glanced slightly to the left, looking at Vinnie.

That uneasiness went away just by the soft glance at him. He was her rock, and there was no way she would ever get through life without him.

She looked back at Brad, who was now looking at Vinnie. His stare seemed harsh to Y/N, looking back at Vinnie to see his eyes hadn't left her as she slowly reached the altar. He gave her a small smile, winking at her as she directed her attention to her dad.

Vinnie watched as Y/N’s dad unhooked his arm from her, hugging her as he kissed her cheek. He sniffled as he gave her away to Brad, the dark haired boy grabbing her hand and leading her up the steps in front of the officiant.

Vinnie sat down, biting the inside of his cheek slightly as he listened to the officiant.

“Today we are gathered to celebrate the marriage of Y/N Y/L/N, and Bradley Hartley…”

The nausea found its way back into Vinnie as he clutched his hands together in his lap. He focused on his breathing as he began to tune out the speech of the officiant.

“Y/N and Brad have decided to write their own vows for one another. Brad, you may recite your vows.”

Brad grabbed the piece of paper from his best man, unfolding it as he began to read the words he scribbled on there.

“Y/N…”

Vinnie couldn’t listen, he couldn’t bear to hear the words coming from Brad’s mouth talking about how she’s forever his, and how he’ll love her, even though her clinical schedule and soon to be doctor schedule will be tiring for him more than her.

What a dick.

Vinnie thought as he held back a scoff. The urge to go up and punch the guy square in the face for that was very strong as he clutched his hands tighter.

“...I love you always.”

Y/N forced a small smile. The vows seeming very simple and not from the heart as her stomach turned.

“Y/N, you may read your vows.”

She turned to her sister, grabbing the folded piece of paper and unfoling it, quickly doing a glance over at it as she took a breath.

“Brad. I am the luckiest person to be standing with you today. I would never have thought I would find someone as unique as you among all the people on this planet. You are both my true love and best friend…”

Y/N’s voice fell off into silence. She blinked at the word a few times.

Best friend.

Best friend.

Best. Friend.

Her mind clicked. Her gaze looking up from the paper and to her right, locking with those deep brown eyes that stared right back at her.

The look of love.

It made sense now.

The officiant cleared his throat slightly, making Y/N jump slightly and tear her eyes back to her paper.

“I’m sorry…You uh- You are both my true love and my…”

Y/N shook her head, folding the paper back up as she looked up.

“I’m sorry. I can’t.” She picked up the fabric of her dress, stepping down the stairs carefully as she walked fastly down the aisle and disappeared through the doors.

Vinnie’s eyes widened, looking to his mom and Y/N’s mom as he stood up and raced after her.

He pushed open the glass doors and turned to the right.

“Y/N!” He hollered as he saw her in the middle of the hallway walking still towards the dressing room.

She stopped, turning to face him.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” Worry was laced with his words as he stopped in front of her.

Y/N shook her head as she closed her eyes, pacing back and forth while she messed with her hands.

“I can’t do it.” She said as her head pounded from the impulse.

“What do you mean you can’t bug? I just told you if anyone can do this it’s you.” Vinnie’s mind raced with confusion as he watched his best friend rub her temples slightly while still pacing.

“Vinnie. I can’t.” She spoke, turning to keep walking but was stopped by Vinnie grabbing her wrist.

“Y/N, you are not making any sense right now.” She felt slightly irritated as her mind was in overdrive making her seem overstimulated.

“I can’t marry Brad.” She spoke clearly, making Vinnie shake his head as his eyebrows furrowed more in confusion than they already were.

“Bug, yes you can. I don’t understand why you keep saying you can’t when-”

“I can’t marry him because he’s not you!” Y/N exclaimed, cutting him off.

Vinnie felt his heart stop.

Did he hear her right?

No. There’s no way. He thought to himself as his eyes widened and he shook his head ever so slightly.

“Y/N-” He started, his voice quiet.

“He isn’t you Vinnie. I can’t be with Brad because he doesn’t love me like you do. He never could. And I could never love him like I love you. The reason I was having second thoughts is because I want you. I need it to be you.” Y/N’s voice was sincere and didn’t falter once.

Vinnie stared at her in shock.

She loved him. She. Loved. Him.

“Please say something so I know I didn’t just do all of this for nothi-”

Her words were cut off as Vinnie stepped forward, placing both hands to cup her face as he pressed his lips to hers.

To say sparks were flying is an understatement as their lips moved in sync. Y/N’s hands resting on the back of his neck as his remained cupping her face gently.

This feels right. This was home. This was love.

That was all Y/N could think as she felt herself beginning to smile into the kiss as all the uneasiness in her stomach melted away.

Y/N’s mom stepped through the glass doors, turning down the hall as she stopped in her tracks wide-eyed as she saw the pair with their lips locked.

“Oh thank god.” The two pulled away quickly as they turned to the woman.

“Mom I-” Y/N’s words were cut off by her mom’s hand going up.

“I’m not…it’s about damn time this happened my goodness.” She laughed as Y/N furrowed her eyebrows at her mom.

“Honey, I’ve been waiting for you two to get together since you both were fifteen. Truth be told, I never liked Brad.” Her mom whispered the last part making Y/N let out a sigh of relief.

“Did anyone like him? If not, why did no one tell me?” Y/N asked, looking between her mom and Vinnie.

“Because you seemed so happy and in love with him. All of us just wanted you to be happy.” Vinnie spoke shrugging as Y/N’s mom nodded in agreement.

“Okay. I will go and handle all of this, and take care of Brad.” Y/N’s mom gave them a thumbs up as Y/N nodded at her, watching her walk away.

“So, what now?” Vinnie broke the silence, the girl turning her gaze to him.

“Um, good question. I have no idea.” Y/N let out a small laugh as her head began to pound from her adrenaline beginning to crash.

“My head hurts fuck.” She winced, her hands going back to rub at her temples.

“Okay…well let’s go to my place and get your headache taken care of first okay? And then we’ll go from there.” Vinnie spoke, moving her hands from her head to replace them with his own.

“Okay.” She smiled softly at him, him returning it as he held out his hand to her.

“Let’s go bug.” Y/N’s smile grew as she placed her hand in his, their fingers lacing together perfectly like two puzzle pieces as they began to walk towards the front entrance.

“I fucking knew it.” The two stopped at the voice. Y/N removed her hand from Vinnie’s as she turned to meet Brad. The boy shaking his head in disbelief as he approached the two.

“Brad I-”

“Oh save it Y/N. Was this the plan all along?” Y/N shook her head quickly.

“No. I just-”

“Were you two fucking behind my back or some shit? I always fucking knew you had a thing for her Hacker. Which is why I never trusted you in the first place.”

“Brad I understand you’re-”

“We were never together behind your back man. And yeah I did always have feelings for Y/N. But I pushed them away because overall she is my best friend. I would never sabotage her happiness for my own feelings. That’s a dick move and I’m not like that.”

Vinnie’s words made Y/N turn her head at him.

He always had feelings for her?

“I should have ended this little friendship you two had from the first day we started dating. You’re such a slut Y/N. He’s never going to be good enough for you and he’ll leave you after he finds the next girl. I mean look at him Y/N. He has millions of girls swooning over him and you think you’re special? No you’re just another one of his whores he has lined up.”

Vinnie felt his hands clench at the words falling from the prick’s mouth as he began to step forward.

“Watch your fucking mouth and how you talk about her.” Vinnie stood a solid three inches taller than Brad, yet the smirk didn’t leave his face.

“I’ll get her back Hacker. Just you wait. Hope you enjoy the sloppy seconds while you can.”

That was all it took for Vinnie as his fist connected with Brad’s face.

“Vinnie!” Y/N shrieked as her hand covered her mouth.

“Don’t ever speak about my girl like that ever again. In fact, don’t ever speak to her again at all. Have a nice life Bradley.” Vinnie turned away from him, walking ahead towards the doors as Y/N still stood there shocked.

“You coming or what bug?” Y/N jumped slightly, turning towards Vinnie as he stood before the doors.

She took one last look at Brad before gathering her dress and walking towards Vinnie, lacing her fingers with his as they walked out of the venue and to his car.

When they were settled in the car, she turned to look at him.

“Did you have to punch him?” Vinnie started the car and looked at her wildly.

“He had it coming now. Don’t even try and deny it.” Y/N shook her head, biting back a smile as she leaned forward, connecting their lips again.

Vinnie placed his thumb on her chin, his forefinger hooking under her chin as they pulled back slightly, Vinnie moving to peck her lips three more times before reluctantly pulling away.

Vinnie put his car in reverse, glancing over his shoulder quickly.

“Bug?” Y/N looked at him as he switched his car into drive.

“Hm?” She hummed.

A smile spread across Vinnie’s face.

“I love you.” Y/N felt herself smiling wide, her chest filling up with happiness and comfort as Vinnie looked at her.

The look of love.

“I love you too.” She said back to him. Meaning every word.

[holeguard]

(Marie Howe, The Affliction)

don't cry. gay ferengi and bisexual vulcan couple on deep space station, OK?

sorbo (the ferengi) is my oc, and stelilk (the vulcan) is @splashtail‘s !

reblogs > likes

[abbeym28]

Clarisse x Reader - This is a Life

Clarisse x gn! reader

Reader is from the Aphrodite cabin, but only for the plot!

An- Around 3.3k words, sorry it took so long to get out! Hope you guys enjoy this! Let me know if I should write something that kind of does more of a deep dive into this, because I feel like something is missing or something

Warnings- Weapons, fake dating, blood at one point, affection, petnames, guy named Andrew (apologies to any one named Andrew), Aphrodite is a pretty okay mom in this. Pls tell me if I missed anything!

Everybody in camp recognized you as the favored child of Aphrodite. People looked twice when you walked by, flowers bloomed in your direction, and mirrors wished they could reflect you.

Clarisse is the favored daughter of her dad, Ares. People feared her, flowers looked away as she passed, and only a select few could stand to be close to her.

But even those who were close kept a great distance.

That was what was similar between the favorite Aphrodite kid and the favorite Ares daughter.

But even that was comparable, for she was a daughter, and a daughter could never compare to a son in her fathers eyes, whilst your mother seems to love you unconditionally.

You and Clarisse weren't close by any means, but you had always caught each other's attention on some level.

For you, it was how she sparred. Muscles flexing, covered in sweat, and a wild and free grin spread across across. You could find beauty in her that was no wheres else in the camp.

For her, it was the way you held yourself and how you were with young campers. Your slight confidence, the care you have for each camper, and the way you treat others. It was admirable, considering the way that Clarisse was probably the opposite of you.

“-risse, Clarisse, Clarisse!” Clarisse brook out of the slight stupor she was in and looked across the table where her sibling was calling her name and waving his hand around. “Oh, thank the gods. I about almost called over an Apollo kid to check on you.” She rolled her eyes as he laughed a bit.

They were in the dining hall, for it was lunch. Her plate was still quit full as she looked down at it. She was hungry, but she felt as if there was something preventing her from eating.

“Hey, would you look at that.” Her brother was looking past, his eyes holding questions. She turned her head to look over her shoulder and scoffed. There you were, holding your tray and standing talking to Percy Jackson, who was sitting alone at his Poseidon camp table.

That Capture the flag game happened a while ago now, but it was still upsetting how many people still like that kid, even after what he did, although it makes sense with all of the things he has done.

Her grip on her fork tightened, and she glared hard in your direction. Her brother snorted. “You really like them, huh?” She whipped her head back to look at him.

“What? Who?” She softened just slightly after he said your name. “Where did you get that idea?”

“The way you two look at each other. There's a rumor going around that you two are secretly dating each other, but we all know that you would never.”

“Never what?”

“Date anyone. Especially them.” She scoffed again.

“What do you mean?”

“You're not… an emotional person. Everyone knows you couldn't even make a relationship actually work.” She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Fine then.” She slammed her hands against the table and got up, making her way over to you. Percy noticed her first and scrambled to sit up straighter and to not smile. You raised your eyebrow at him, but he nodded his head in Clarisse’s direction and you laughed a little.

“Hey Claris-” you lifted one of your hands up to wave, but once she was close enough she took that hand in hers and then wrapped her other arm around your waist, pulling you towards her in a kiss.

The whole camp seemed to go quiet, and while it wasn't the most emotional kiss, Clarisse was very passionate in how she was kissing you, it was overwhelming to say the least. Your tray dropped, spilling food all over the ground and making a loud crash. Your hand found its way to the back of her neck and you gently tugged on her curls and twirled some of the baby hairs at her nape around your fingers. She broke off the kiss, looking you right in your eyes as you were flustered and tried to reclaim your breath.

“Um, what the-'' Percy began, but before anything else was said Clarisse tugged on your hand and ran towards the forest with you.

“Clarisse, what was that a-”

“Date me.” She blurted out the words before her mind could tell her to not to.

“What- this is super out of the blue, even for you Clarisse!” Clarisse rolled her eyes.

“We can fake dates then. Just for a few months or so.”

“How is that even relevant?!?!”

“If we fake date, then none of it will be real. And then, I get to prove something, and you…well,  I can make sure people dont bother you.” You narrowed your eyes at her.

“But why?” Clarrise sighed deeply and your eyebrows furrowed more.

“Look, people already think we are dating, my sibling thinks I could never be in a relationship, and I don't hate you. Much.” She then looked you up and down in a way that almost made you wish that you were invisible.

“Now, how well can you act?”

The shock of the century happened at camp Half Blood the next morning at breakfast when Clarrise showed up with you attached to her arm. Jaws were on the floor and every table was turned towards your direction.

Clarisse had a proud smirk on her face as she survived the dining hall. Some part of you also felt weirdly proud as well, as if having your arm intertwined with hers was the reason you were at this camp anyway.

She moved you in the direction of the Ares table, an arrangement the two of you had settled on while setting up rules and guidelines. You would sit with her at her table, at least come to most of her training sessions and sit next to her at the bonfires. She would visit the strawberry fields and lake with you, join the craft classes you have with young campers, and on occasions, she would allow you to place a kiss on her while wearing lipstick or lip gloss, making sure to leave a mark.

You both also agreed on minimal kissing, which was a shame since she was a good kisser. Any other types of touches were pretty much guaranteed if the two of you were near each other.

“Goodmorning.” Clarisse greeted the rest of the table, untangling her arm from yours before setting her tray on the table and then sitting down. You did the same, and in an instant, Clarrise wrapped her arm around your waist, situating her hand on your stomach comfortably. You scratched a bit closer to her so your thighs were touching.

A chorus of morning greetings left various peoples mouths and Clarisse hummed a bit. She reached for a bag of apple slices and ripped open the small bag with the help of her teeth. You giggled a bit and nudged her side.

“Honey, that was kind of weird. You know you could've just let go of me, right?” She stared into your eyes mischtifully.

“You lost me at let go.”

It took everything in you to not burst out laughing as a few people around you literally gagged. She winked at you and you grinned at her before the two of you each turned back to your breakfast.

Your chin sat on both of your palms as you sat in the stands right outside of the training grounds, watching as Clarisse took on another camper in a dual. Capture the flag was coming up in about a week, but despite that, many people have come up to you asking if the news that had spread around camp was true.

“Hey, babe, did you see that?” Clarisse was jogging over to you, a smile on her lips. You smiled back at her and once she was close enough moved to stand between your legs, her hands trailed up your thighs lightly before they landed on your waist. You tried your best to ignore the shiver that went through your body.

“I missed it. I’m sorry hun.” You put one of your hands on her shoulder while you fiddled with one of her strands of curls with the other. She let out a breathe, and you could almost swear she was pouting.

She leaned in closer, her lips almost touching your ear. “You're doing good, yeah?” she whispered.

“Yeah.” you whispered back. She moved a little bit back and smirked.

“Good. You keep doin’ that, 'kay sweetheart?” she patted your thigh twice before turning and running back to her training. Your heart skipped one to many times during that interaction.

Please Mother, let me survive this.

The next week and a half went pretty much like that, with you and Clarisse glued to each other's sides for the entirety of the day. She was even somehow able to convince Chiron to put the Aphrodite cabin on the red team.

You were with Clarisse now, getting ready for the capture the flag game. Your armor sat heavily on your shoulders as you did your best to fix all of the straps while following your “girlfriend” and listening to her bark out orders and plans.

Some of your siblings were grouped together all complaining about how much stuff they had to do compared to when they were on the blue team, but you knew that some of them were grateful that Clarisse knew that they were capable to do things that the other cabins could do.

Clarisse looked behind her where you were still struggling with your armor. She sighed and moved closer to you. She carefully took your hand in hers and then tighten your straps so that way it was secure. You watch her face the whole time, finding the way she furrowed her eyebrows in concentration to be quite cute.

“There. You ready to do this?” She looked up, pausing when her eyes met your. The two of you stared at each other for a moment before your eyes flickered to the ground, or at least any wear that wasn't her face.

“Yeah, I am. What did you want me to do again?” She huffed out a laugh and then moved past you.

“All you need to do sweetheart is to follow me.”

Even though you were out of breath, you continued to follow your fake girlfriends footsteps.

Well, it wasn't like you had much of a choice with how tightly she was holding your hand and tugging you along paths.

Out of nowhere, a group of people from the blue team jumped out of the trees and began to attack. Clarisse let go of your hand and brought out her spear, running forward and taking on two people at once.

You took out your provided sword and prayed that your trainings with Clarisse would pay off. Your sword clashed with the sword of a boy from the Hermes cabin, and you recognized him as a guy named Andrew, someone who used to follow you around and flirt with you before you and Clarisse became a temporary item.

“I’ve been wondering if I could even get you alone.” Andrew backed you away from the rest of the group and more into the trees.

“I have a girlfriend, Andrew.” You made sure your voice was stable and hard. You hoped you could get your point across to him, but this is the guy who couldn't take a hint from you before, so it was evident that he wasn't going to start now.

“Come on, everyone knows that you like me. We can tell that Clarisse pressured you into the relationship. The two of you weren't meant to be.” You tripped over a root, sending you falling, hitting the ground hard and hurting your back in the process.

“Me and you were meant to be together. Couldn't you see that I was flirting with you? ‘Cause I could see that you returned the feelings with how you flirted with me.” Your eyes flickered for any type of escape from his anger and jealousy, but there was no safe way out with how he was practically sitting on your stomach. It made you sick with how close his face was to yours.

“Well,” you carefully moved your hand to twirl a longer strand of his hair between your fingers. It was straight, especially compared to Clarisse’s. You tried to ignore how wrong this felt, and you tried to push away the urge to gag. If using the charm you had gotten from your mother would get you out of this, then so be it. “I had no idea you felt like that, sweety. What can I do to make it up to you?”

Charmspeak wasn't against the rules. After all, this was the gift that was given to you from your godly parents.

You watched as his eyes followed your hand as you began to softly caress his face.

This has to be one of the most disgusting things you have ever done.

“So you do like me! I knew th-” Andrew stopped his sentence as his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he flopped off of you to the side. You jumped up, finding yourself in front of your savior.

“Clarisse! You knocked him out! Is that even aloud?!” Clarisse laughed and poked Andrew with the none sharp end of her spear.

“He deserved it. Easiest decision of my li…” you stopped trying to wipe off all of the dirt that had resided on your clothes to raise your eyebrow at her Clarisse.

She was staring at you, her mouth slightly open and an almost entranced look in her eyes.

Was there dirt on your face? Did you somehow use your charmspeak on her?

“Um, Clarisse, maybe we should-'' Before you could finish your sentence, Clarisse had brought her left hand up and gently slid her thumb over your cheek bone.

You guessed that you had gotten a small cut there, and from the small flash of red that appeared and her thumb, you guessed that you were right. She moved it away a bit, and then she pushed back a strand of hair that had begun to obstruct your vision. She kept her hand there then, and you brought up your hand to touch her wrist, a grounding move for you were starting to feel light headed. You stared into eachothers eyes, and what broke you apart was the flinching sound of the games ending conch shell horn.

The blue team had won, another year in a row.

Clarisse sighed and ended the contact, moving away and bending down to pick up your discarded sword. She put it in your hands.

“You weren’t too bad out there. And, you, huh, you looked, um pretty good too.” She nodded, cleared her throat and turned away from you, heading back down the trail, but not before using her foot to push Andrew out of the way more.

For some reason, that was the moment you finally realized how in love you were with your fake girlfriend.

That night, your mother appeared in your dreams for the first time. Sitting on the wood pierre that was feet above the water, with moon light reflected off the liquid, Aphrodite appeared in front of you. With curly brown hair and brown eyes, and that tanned skin that you could swear you had begun to memorize, your mom looked different from what you expected.

“I appear as what you are attracted to,” Aphrodite nudged your shoulder from where she sat beside you. She seemed to respond to what you were thinking. “For you, that's that girlfriend of yours.”

“Fake girlfriend. We aren't really dating.” Aphrodite laughed in a way that made your heart beat a bit faster. That laugh belonged to someone who now had your heart.

“Could… could you switch to look like someone else? This is kind of unnerving to me.” She laughed again and shook her head.

“I can't be here for long, my child.” She change the subject.

“Then why are you here?”

“You're in love somehow. I know that you probably wouldn't tell her without some sort of push.”

You stared at her. She was practically glowing, the sear fabric that was draped on her body floating.

“Hearts aren't meant to hurt, hunny. If you distance yourself, or try to break away from her and move on, then two hearts will get hurt.”

Silence fell over the two of you, just for a moment.

“Mom?”

“Yes?”

“Am I… am I really your favorite? I mean, other people say that, but you've never given me a gift, and I haven't been on a quest, and this is the first time I've even met you. I just-”

“There are many of you, and I have love for each of you and your siblings. But yes, it could be said that I am very proud of you, and what you have accomplished.” Tears started to fill your eyes, though you weren't sure exactly why you were crying.

“Goodbye, my dear.” She softly pressed a kiss to your cheek.

And with that, your mother was gone once again.

Tears were running down your face once you woke up.

You moved off your blankets and got up moving towards the cabin's front doors. It was almost pitch black, and it was easy to tell that it was still night. Maybe just sitting out on the porch and thinking would do you some good.

But right when you were a few steps away, the door started to crack open.

Your mind jumped to many conclusions, like there was a ghost or one of your siblings had stayed out late with their partner. Then you caught sight of the hand that was pushing on the wood.

It was the same hand that has intertwined with yours, the same hand that had held onto your body all week. The same hand that you had seen wielding a sword for years.

“Clarisse?” The door stopped opening, and then Clarisse poked her head through the opening.

She whispered your name back, and you took note about how this was the most sheepish you had ever witnessed her to be. She backed up, and you went out of your cabin to join her.

“Hey.” she whispered.

“Hi.” you whispered back. “What's wrong?” You could swear that her hand twitched in the slightest, like she was about to reach out and hold yours but thought better.

“I, um, had a nightmare. You were the only place I could think to go to. It’s fine now though, so you should go back inside and get your beauty sleep.” She turned away from you, starting to go down the steps back to her cabin.

“Do you like me?” She stood still on the second step down. You walked towards her slowly, and you started to wish you had brought a blanket out with you. The night chill was starting to get to you, and you were starting to wish that you had that type of safe feeling.

“My, um, my mother visited my dreams tonight. And we talked, and I know that we havent really been dating, but i kike you Clarisse, and I kind of hoped, only if you want, if we could kind of be offic-”

A pair of lips crashed into yours before anything else happened. The passion from the first kiss that the two of you had shared was there still, but this time something felt so much more real.

You felt so many emotions, and so did Clarisse, and you knew that she was trying to convey them all to you like this.

Both of her hands were on your face, each one gently holding your cheeks so you could stay in place. Your hands were on her wrists, but you moved them to the back of her neck where you gently tugged on her curls. You smiled into the kiss.

Her hair would always be your favorite.

Clarisse pulled away from the kiss, and laughed when she saw your eyes were still closed. You glared at her a little, but your smile was still present on your face.

“I do.” Clarisse said. You hummed and tilted your head in confusion. Clarisse laughed again a bit.

“I do like you.” Somehow your smile got even bigger.

“So we can kiss anytime now?”

“Anytime, sweetheart.”

[revasserium]

to the lighthouse - Zoro and what guides him home

10. to the lighthouse

zoro; 2,320 words, opla!zoro, the fluffiest of fluff, straw hat!reader, established relationship

summary: you just wanted to buy some apples; now complete with a prequel right here

a/n: aggressively adorable, truly -- i have no excuse for this okay. i'm just so freakishly whipped for opla!zoro pls dont look at at me

zoro has never been great shakes at directions (navigation has always been more nami’s thing, and he knows his place in the world), but he’s never needed a compass to find his way home. once, he might have. once, he would’ve wandered and wondered forever and ever, believing the great unknowns of the world to be his compass rose, the horizon his true north, but not anymore. because you see, he’s grown since then — he’s gotten bigger, stronger, more ruthless, more deadly. but he’s gotten smarter too… if only just by a little bit.

he’s learned since then that home doesn’t have to be a place, that it can just as easily be a person.

or, in his case, that it could be both.

“warn me, the next time you plan on getting kidnapped for ransom, would’ya?”

there’s blood on his headband and blood on his shoes, but he can’t quite keep his voice as gruff as he’d like, even as he hauls you bodily onto the deck of the going merry, scowling as you kick your feet in a feeble attempt to get him to let you go.

“it’s not like i was trying to get kidnapped! i was getting apples from the market!”

“yeah, in broad daylight, in a giant port town where all our faces are plastered across wanted posters! even i could’ve told you that’s a bad idea.”

you yelp as he dumps you unceremoniously onto the kitchen’s large wooden table, mumbling to himself as he beings to rummage through the drawers for a first aide kit, slamming cupboards as he goes.

you fold your arms, unable to stop the grin from tugging at your lips.

“did you… just call yourself dumb?”

zoro whirls around, color blotching into his cheeks as he glares, “i — f — you know what i mean!”

he whips back around and slams a drawer so hard the handle breaks; he swears even as you start to laugh, wincing and clutching at your stomach, the skin of your side tender and growing more so by the minute.

“o-ow! don’t make me laugh! it hurts!”

“serves you right… stupid… parading around… not paying attention…”

he slams the first aid kit onto the table next to you, roughly swatting your hand out of the way as he gingerly lifts your shirt to inspect the damage.

“i’m fine —”

“you’re not fine, and quit squirming. i’m not chopper so if i fuck up, it’s your fault.”

you press your lips and hold still, hissing as he carefully dabs at a rather large gash between two of your ribs.

“and i wasn’t parading… i mean, my face isn’t on a wanted poster yet so…”

zoro spares you a single look before going back to his work, “yeah. yet.”

you deflate, inching forward slightly to make his job a bit easier as he continues to clean your wound, his touch now so much gentler than anyone might give him credit for. you watch him with soft eyes, trail the tracks of his fingers as he fumbles with the alcohol soaked cotton pad, daubing at the raw red of your skin. you wondered if anyone who hunted him from his picture on a wanted poster would recognize him now, his cheeks flushed, his brows lightly furrowed, his eyes sharp and steady as tried his best not to hurt you.

“there,” he says, his voice short and rough as he presses his palm over a strip of clean gauze, sealing it in place. he pulls back to admire his handiwork, looking as pleased as he might’ve been if he’d just decapitated an entire infantry’s worth of men without drawing a single sword.

you gingerly tug your shirt back down, your skin feeling much warmer at the places where he’d touched, his palm-print burning like a brand along the expanse of your ribs. you gulp and clear your throat.

“sorry… i — i didn’t mean to.”

“save it,” and then, when you wince at his tone, zoro sighs, scratching at the back of his neck as he leans up against the table next to you, “i know you didn’t. i was just…”

and it’s his turn to pause, to clear his throat and look away.

“sanji… sanji wanted apples for the curry he’s making tonight,” you say, kicking your feet, your eyes trained on the tips of your shoes as they swing up and down in succession — right, left, right, left, right —

“apples in curry? ew.”

“he said they’re the secret ingredient! and — apparently, the better the apples, the better the curry, and it’s — well, it’s fall so they’re in season right now, and nami said this island is known for their apple orchards so i thought — maybe if i went to the market on the first day i’d be able to snag the best ones —”

he cuts you off with a kiss, swallowing passed your surprised squeak before your eyes flutter shut, your lashes tickling his cheeks like moth wings. you can almost taste his satisfied smirk when your fingers curl into the front of his shirt to tug him closer.

“you’re rambling… you only do that when you’re nervous.”

you bite your lip but zoro presses his thumb to your chin, tilting your head up till he meets your eyes.

“why’re you nervous?”

“i — i’m not —”

“hm. you’ve always been a shit liar.”

you try to tug your head away from him but his grip is strong, his other hand casually resting below your waist, his fingers pressing into the soft of your hips, holding you in place.

“it’s… nothing…” but he’s right. you have always been a terrible liar, even worse to the people who know you. and god does zoro know you.

zoro’s grin goes wolfish as he cocks his head, eyeing you as a hunter might his prey, “pretty little liar though… i gotta say,” he drags his thumb along the bottom of your lip, pushing against the plush of your mouth, his eyes going dark as he watches the way your breath hitches.

“but even pretty little liars deserve to be punished, don’t they?” he leans in, breath hot by your ear, his words chasing shivers up and down your spine. you fight back a whimper, knowing that if he were truly to pin you there, there’d be nothing you could do to escape him.

“unless… you wanna tell me the truth?”

you let out a shuddering breath before sighing.

“w-we — we wanted to — to throw you a birthday party.”

zoro pauses, his darkened gaze going wide for a second before he pulls back, visibly confused.

“b…birthday? uh — that’s not till november —”

“i know but… who knows if we’ll be docked by then, and… your favorite season is autumn so…” you shrug, voice small even as you try to duck and hide the blush rushing up into your cheeks.

“so… you went to get apples… for my not-birthday birthday dinner?”

“i mean — your favorite food is rice and… curry goes the best with rice, right?”

zoro lets out a breathy laugh, his hand falling to press against your other hip. but before he can say anything else, sanji’s voice echoes in from just beyond the door before it swings open to reveal sanji, with his arms full of groceries and usopp close behind him, nearly running into sanji’s back as he comes to an abrupt stop at the sight before him.

“darling, did you manage to get those apples? y’know if we’re really gonna make this curry, it’ll have to stew for a good three or so hours — oh — my apologies… was i interrupting something? decide to give the lucky man an amuse bouche before his main course tonight, yeah?”

you groan and try to tug away but zoro merely quirks an eyebrow, seemingly unphased.

“why’re you putting apples into perfectly good curry?”

at this, sanji rolls his eyes and hoists the groceries on to the kitchen table next to you, casting zoro a scathing look.

“look man, i don’t question your sword-swinging and you don’t question my cooking, alright? now, if you’re really thirsting to know — the sweetness in the apples gives texture to the curry as it stews, and that’s what makes it so damn delicious when you pair it with the rice, got it?”

zoro scoffs, his hands still planted firmly on either side of your hips even as sanji starts to pull out all the varied ingredients for the meal. behind him, usopp is juggling an impressive number of liquor bottles as he tries to slot them into the drinks rack.

“yeah. we’ll see,” and with a single arm, zoro hoists you from the table and sets you down on the ground next to him, guiding you from the kitchens even as sanji shoots you a salacious wink.

“you’ll be singin’ to a different tune when you’ve had your first taste, moss-head!”

zoro doesn’t grace that with a response, steering you out of the kitchens before yelling for usopp to toss him a bottle of something good over his shoulder.

later that night, when the party is in full swing, he finds you by the carved white railings at the darkened head of the ship, eyes trained on the far horizon. behind you both, luffy is standing on a barrel, belting some old drinking song while nami laughs and sanji swings chopper in a strange, uncoordinated two-step.

“hey,” he says, bumping your shoulder with his.

“oh! hey…” you cast him a smile as he takes another swig from his nearly empty glass.

“why aren’t you —” he jerks his head back towards the swinging, dancing, laughing crew.

you bite back a smile, shrugging, “i was just… thinking.”

“oh. well, that’s not good.”

you slam your shoulder into his but he barely moves, chuckling.

“today… when you saved me from those kidnappers… how’dyou know where to find me?”

you turn to look at him, and for a second, the question almost catches him off guard. he stares at you, as if unsure himself how to answer before he grins, his eyes slipping from you out towards the darkness beyond as behind you both, sanji starts in on a showtune in a warbled language neither of you can understand.

“actually, ‘m not sure… i just… had a feeling.”

you blink, “you… had a feeling?”

“yeah like… y’know when uh — turtles and stuff always know how to get back to the beach where they were born?”

your eyebrows slowly migrate up your forehead this words as you stare at him, dumbstruck.

“zoro… you’ve gotten lost on a straight road before —”

“shut up! it’s not — it’s different though… i dunno how to explain it, but i just… i just knew. something — something wasn’t right and i knew i had to find you.”

and even in the relative darkness, you can see the color seeping into his cheeks. you let yourself laugh, glancing down at the half-finished drink in your own hands.

“i’ll… i’ll always find you.”

you look up at his words, his voice so much softer than you’re used to, the words so much more tender. you look up to find him watching you, his gaze soft and warm, sweet and molten.

“even if it takes me forever… i’ll… i’ll always find my way to you.”

and you wonder if it’s the alcohol, you wonder if it’s the darkness gifted by the moonless night, the prickling light of a hundred thousand stars winking above in the velvet sky.

you nod, raising your glass in quiet acceptance of his words, of this solemn vow that you know he’d never make without the intention of honoring it until time itself has breathed its last.

you clink your glass against his.

“happy birthday.”

zoro laughs, shaking his head, “can’t believe you’re making me celebrate two months early.”

“we can throw another party when its your actual birthday.”

“yeah — just promise me you won’t get kidnapped again.”

you laugh, shaking your head, “as long as you promise that if i do… you’ll be there to find me.”

zoro raises his glass to his lips, “i’ll drink to that.”

you toss your own drink back, feel the burn of it work it’s way down your throat, the fire settling in the pit of your stomach as zoro tugs you by the hand back to the heart of the party, where nami screams and throws her arms round you, pulling you into a suffocating hug and sanji nearly trips over trying to refill your glass.

zoro grins, laughing as luffy wobbles and nearly smashes into the main mast. he lets sanji refill his drink; he lets luffy pull him into a unwilling sea shanty, everyone swaying left and right with the uneven rhythm of the drowsy sea.

and he realizes, not for the first time, though it still sometimes comes as a surprise — that there’s no place he’d rather be. because you see, for zoro home is both a place and a person — the place is here with his crew around him, the ocean beneath them, the world sprawled out like a map at their feet.

and the person… he looks up across the raucous merry-making to catch your eye, to catch a breath of your bright, bell-like laughter — he’s never been more sure of anything else in his entire life that the person… is you.

opla!zoro requests r open LOL (literally idk if i will write anyone else but him at this point but EY if u got a req....)

[rosemaze-reveries]

Hello, I am the man boob requester, I enjoyed it very much! You’ve reminded me the existence of bane, I forgot how much I loved him.

This time I would like to request something less on crack-ish; idv characters of your choice with a freakishly quiet reader who makes a small noise to announce their presence whenever they enter a room to not freak people out pls.

My cat does this and it’s the cutest thing ever..

🎨⚓📣⛓️📍🖋️🏈

🎨 Edgar - "Stop doing that." He finds it weird and unnecessary. A proper excuse me would suffice. As a result, you start skipping your greetings altogether, only to discover that Edgar is surprisingly easy to spook. A few poorly-stifled heart attacks later he demands you go back to announcing yourself.

⚓ Jose lifts an inquisitive brow. "What was that, love?" When you repeat the sound, he tests it on his own tongue, as if trying to recognize the language. Then he smiles at you, snapping as it dawns on him: "Aha! But of course—modern balderdash. A beautiful language, one all the more enchanting on your sweet lips."

📣 Lily totally hijacks it. Just from the few times you make that sound, she adopts it into her daily hello's. She's much more talkative than you are, so she's usually the one that comes trotting in to visit you rather than the other way around. Guess it's hers now! At least she only uses it with you.

⛓️ Luca tends to lose himself in his work, drowning out all other sounds. It's easy to sneak up on him. He tunes out your little greeting the first few times you use it, and even now he still misses it sometimes. He starts responding with a small noise of his own to let you know he's heard you.

📍 Matthias spends a long time trying to decipher the meaning behind it. Some days he wonders if it's a signal to someone else, that he's being tracked in some way. One day he finds himself in a position where he's not sure how to catch someone's attention, and suddenly your small voice floats up in his head. All of a sudden it clicks. You won't mind him borrowing it just this once, right?

🖋️ Orpheus won't comment on it directly, but he does notice. He picks up on every little thing you do. He returns your greetings as he would anyone else, maybe giving you a nickname based on the sound, like little mouse or dove. The sound is endearing but unusual enough that he thinks about it often... You'll never get to hear his thoughts about it though.

🏈 William takes to this super quickly. For him, your quiet chirp is not so much a warning but a very welcome greeting. Whether he's working on something or mid-conversation, his face lights up like clockwork the moment he hears it. He'll glance around with a smile tugging at his lips until he spots you, where it blooms into a huge grin.

[toxicanonymity]

Non con sex pollen fic where Joel and the reader are waken up in a random room together and he recognizes who you are because he used to be friends with ur dad , he starts begging the people who took them to let him out because the reader isn’t the only person that’s ended up in this situation with him, and then there’s smoke that enters the room but it only has an effect on Joel, if you even decide to turn this into anything can you add oral f receiving pls and do the smut however you want! I’ll love it either way <3 IM SO SORRY ITS ALOT

Lazaretto (sex pollen)

2.6k ONE SHOT / joel x afab!reader / master

Part 2 HERE

WARNINGS: non-con, sex pollen, manhandling, oral f receiving, unsafe P in V sex, anal, reader menstruates. poorly edited. Horror elements apparently lol idk how sex pollen is normally written. 18+

You wake up in a heavy-duty four-wall tent with a burly stranger, both of you in hospital gowns.  You were sedated and you're still groggy when a man in a biohazard suit explains you’re being quarantined in a makeshift lazaretto outside the overcrowded army hospital.  Neither of you were bitten in the chaos earlier, but it’s a precaution.  You'll be monitored for 24 hours, treated with an antifungal fog, then monitored for another 24 hours before they release you.  You sign a release about potential side effects which include psychological and sexual disturbances. 

He doesn’t elaborate, but Joel is clearly disturbed as if it’s not his first time.  

“No,” he says.  “No!" He screams, then begs, "Let me out, or let her out, I don’t care.”

“I’m not authorized to let anyone out.”

“Then put me in my own tent!" 

“I’m afraid we’re far past capacity.  Most units have three.” 

“Can you at least tie me up or somethin’?” 

“I’m afraid not.” 

"Then get me away from her!" 

You're offended and confused.  The quarantine man leaves.  For a while, neither of you talk except to say some variation of, “this is bullshit.”  Joel seems genuinely distressed.  You have your own problems to worry about.  You’re at the tail end of your period and don’t have any provisions, not even any underwear. You want to check and see if you’re still bleeding, but not with this stranger in the tent. 

You ask him, “What are you so worried about?” 

He starts to say something but stops himself and says, “I’ll tell you later.” 

"What did I do?" You ask and your temples feel weak. 

He recognizes how mean he must have sounded.  "Nothing at all, sugar.  It's me. I had. . . a bad reaction in the past."  

He changes the subject and tells you he recognizes you.  It hits you - Joel Miller - he used to run a smuggling route with your dad.  Life has hardened Joel into a much stronger, more attractive man since then.  He’s not a big talker, but he occasionally indulges your questions about pre-outbreak life.  You start to really enjoy his company.  For a minute at a time, you manage to forget about the scary circumstances. 

-

There’s one old cot and a blanket.  He says you can have them because he won’t be able to sleep anyway.  You’re not comfortable but you manage to fall asleep.  You wake up shivering and ask if he’ll join you.  He hesitantly agrees, then settles in behind you.  You grab his hand and hold it tight.  You’re gushing between the legs.  You expect a nice red spot on both your gowns in the morning, but that should be the least of your worries.

“Do you think we’re okay?” you whisper. 

“Yeah, we’re okay,” he replies softly in your ear. 

You start sniffling.  “I’m scared.” 

He tightens his arm over you. “I know, sugar. You’re gonna be alright. We’re alright.”  You can hear his heart beating faster.  

As you drift off to sleep, it’s impossible not to notice through your gowns when his dick hardens against you.  He backs off a little but you push your ass back into him and tighten your grip on his hand.  His chest swells against your back and you feel him inhale your hair, but he doesn't make a move and neither do you. 

-

When you wake up, he’s lying on his stomach on the floor using his massive bicep as a pillow.  Before he notices you’re awake, you subtly dip your finger into youreslf to check for your period, and it’s not there.  You were just wet.  You sit up and look at the back of your gown.  Nothing.  When he sees you’re awake and sits up, the fear returns to his eyes.   He says, “I reckon the fog will come soon, now.”  There’s no clock, but he senses it.  He moves his jaw side to side anxiously and his eyes dart around the tent. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask. 

He opens his mouth several times then stops before he manages to say it.  “Look, if. . . If I do anything after they fog us. . .  it’s not me, okay?"

"Okay. . .do anything like what?" 

"It . . . The fog has an effect on certain people."  He swallows and looks away.  "Like a sexual effect. It can make you . . . Aggressive."

"Oh. . ."

"Listen.  You can fight me off, do whatever you have to do, okay?" 

"Okay."

Your heart beats faster wondering what's in store.  You can’t imagine it’s that bad. 

-

Finally, one side of the tent ripples as a small, circular portal is opened and something clicks into it.  The tent begins to fill with fog.  The fog smells faintly like a thunderstorm and settles toward the ground before it slowly rises.  Joel backs away from it, sitting in the very corner of the tent as it spreads across the floor.  As the fog continues to pour in, he stands up and turns his face toward the ceiling.  But it reaches him. He tries not to breathe it, with his mouth in his gown, but it’s no use. He squats down, facing away from you.  

He swallows.  “I’m sorry.”  His voice is shaky.  He looks back at you one last time apologetically, then pinches his eyes shut and takes deep breaths. The fog valve is shut.  For a few minutes, you can hardly see him. 

-

You hear the sticky footsteps of his bare feet on the floor, then he gets close enough to see him through the fog, just a few feet away from you.  His whole face has darkened.  And it further darkens as he looks at you in a trance.  He wets his lips like you’re something to eat.  His chest rises and falls with heaving breaths.  

Minutes ago, it was hard to imagine being afraid of him,  but he’s a whole different man now.   You get up from the cot,  walk backwards to the opposite side of the tent, and sit in the corner. 

He crosses the tent in two long, swift strides.  As he looms over you, it’s impossible to ignore the massive tent in his gown or his muscular thighs. 

“Get up,” he demands through the fading fog.  You look down and stay where you are, pulling your gown over your knees, shrinking into yourself.  

“GET UP NOW!” he yells with his mouth wide open, face red, hair bouncing.  

You still don’t.  

"I’m sorry,” he says, then darkens again.  “But you're askin' for it.”  He squats down and gently cups your face.  “Get up.”

You don’t. “You don’t want to do this.”  A last ditch effort:  “I have my period!”   But it only makes him more feral.  You see it in his face right after you say it. 

-

Joel grabs you roughly by both elbows and manhandles you to your feet, then pushes you over to the cot.   He tears your gown off and throws you down on the cot face-up.  He scans you head to toe.  You futilely try to cover yourself with your arms and hands.  You’d feel even more naked without the fog though, which still hangs in the air.  You start to sit up and he forces you back down, pinning you with an arm across your chest.  "Starving,” he growls in your ear, giving you butterflies.  He grabs your hand off your pussy then shoves his own between your legs and the butterflies swarm to your core.  You try and fail to keep your legs shut tight but the pressure of your thighs around his hand feels far too good between your legs.

“Joel, stop,” you plead. “You’re not yourself.”  You beg him to stop, but you're getting wetter by the minute.  His intensity turns you on. 

“No use, darlin’.”  He inserts his middle finger and breathes heavily.  “Nothin’s stoppin’ this." 

You still try, though.  You thrash and kick, then he grabs you by the arms so hard his fingers dig deep into your muscles, practically to the bone. “Sit still, damnit.”  He softens only for a moment.  “Don't wanna have to hurt you.” Then he darkens again.

Your face gets  cold and you swallow.  He kneels at the foot of the cot and uses your thighs to violently yank you toward him so your ass is at the end.  He pries your legs open and holds them that way with his massive hands.  His mouth latches onto your pussy and you’re flooded with a rush of arousal as the hook of his nose begins to massage your clit.  He really digs in, pressing his lips hard into you, thrusting his tongue inside you.  A ball of tension gathers in your traitorous core and you twitch.  

He’s grunting “Mm” as he sucks and laps.  You squirm and he forces you still again and continues, ravenous to consume you.  He looks up with black eyes, and the animal between your legs terrifies you.  He intensifies his eating and you feel it coming.  The next time he thrusts his tongue inside you, his nose drags up your clit.  You moan and your spine arches as you see stars. He stops and watches you unravel with his head still firmly planted between your legs.  Your eyes water with your pulsations as you stare up at the ceiling of the tent. He lifts his head and a lighter patch of his beard is just barely tinged with your period.  He dug it out of you.  He inserts his fingers and you clench around him with the aftershocks.  You close your eyes and catch your breath.

-

He must stand up, because before you know it, you feel his tip at your entrance.   Your body wants him inside you. You could make it easy on him, but you don’t want him to fuck you and regret it.  It’s not just your body – you’re realizing you want him, too.  You may be getting ahead of yourself, but it’s the product of a near-death experience, of being sealed in a tent with him for 24 hours, and of getting head within an inch of your life. The perfect storm. If you’re going to have him, it has to be under different circumstances or he may never want to do it again.

He begins to push in. 

“Joel, no!” You squirm and thrash.  

He sighs.  “You're just gonna tucker yourself out like that.” 

You still give it your best try, but he’s right.   You’re no match for his strength. He overpowers you, pins you down with his weight, then shoves his thick cock into you with a grunt.  Your wet little hole can hardly take him.  You yelp as his unforgiving girth splits you open and fills you up.  When his length retreats, you try to push him off, but you can’t.  “You’re takin' it one way or another, darlin’.” 

He bottoms out with a guttural roar like he’s charging into battle. He pounds you brutally, slamming to the hilt each time.  It hurts but it isn’t long before it starts to feel okay, then good, and then, the delicious stretch of his girth feels like something you never knew you needed.  After a minute or two, you stop squirming and thrashing. It's happening, and you might as well enjoy it. 

When you stop fighting, he takes his weight off you and stands at the foot of the cot, your thighs in his hands, pulling you back on his dick as his hips snap into you. His hair is messy and his face and neck are splotched red.  His big arms bulge out from under the gown.  You’ve never seen such intensity on anyone’s face before.  

After a few minutes of him pistoning into you, you feel another climax building.  You whimper and he rails you even harder, sweating, grunting, growling.  When you come, it’s a burst unlike anything you've ever felt. You hear yourself wailing as he fucks you through it.  Your walls are still contracting around his cock when he grabs onto your hips for dear life and plunges into you with more force than ever.  

You realize he’s going to come inside and yell, “No!”  You try to get away.  You try to fight back, but he’s too strong and determined.  Rage falls across his face.  A groan rips out of his throat as his cock erupts into you, pulsing massively, extending your climax longer than you thought possible.  It’s a feeling you’ve never felt before.  

Your whole body is spent.  When he’s finished coming, he slides out of you and you lie there limp with your eyes closed. It’s quiet for a minute. The fog has settled more. 

He groans softly. Then, "I'm sorry. . ."  You open your eyes and sit up. You reach for him  at the foot of the cot, but he backs away.  It seems like he can't look at you. His eyes are tearful.  

"It's okay.  Look at me, Joel. It's okay."

It's quiet for a minute.

-

"God damnit,” he whispers. He covers himself and when your eyes follow his hand, it’s clear he’s hard again or it never went away.   The fog has faded enough that it seems he at least has the wherewithal to jack off instead.  "Close your eyes," he says as he turns away and wraps his hand around his cock.  You study his eyes and they’re dark, but not as dark as they were. You lie down with your eyes shut and listen to his breath and the squish of his hand around his cock, wet with your slick.

The  rhythmic squish gets closer and closer.   You open your eyes to the darkest look on his face.  He’s standing there at the foot of the cot, gown pushed up out of the way again as he strokes his stiff, imposing cock. 

“Flip over,” he demands but gives you no time to comply.  He grabs you under the arms.

“Okay, okay,” you comply and he forces you down on your stomach.  

He wedges the tip of his cock between your cheeks, aligning himself at your asshole.  You’re terrified.  You beg, "no, wait," but he's not there anymore.  It's not really him. 

He plunges into your tight, virgin hole and you yelp in shock. His hands on your hips lift your ass in the air and you bury your head in your arm, biting your own skin as he yanks you back into him, making your ass flush with his pelvis.  You’re stuffed full of him, fuller than you’ve ever felt, even fuller than when he was in your pussy.  

He pummels you with abandon and your eyes well up in tears.  You're mortified, you've never done this before, and you have so many fears – is he going to ruin you?  Is there going to be a mess?  But each time he buries his length in your ass, it feels better and your fears fade into pleasure. The longer he pounds you, the better it feels.  It feels surprisingly good, much better than you ever thought it would.  The tent seems to echo with his grunts and the slap of skin.  

Another orgasm is brewing as he pounds your guts.  It builds faster this time.  He grunts louder, then your whole body is seized by the deepest, most powerful climax.  You whimper, then your whimper turns into a groan as your ass spasms and your pussy clenches around nothing.  

And then he pulses inside you, filling up another hole.  By the time he's through with you, you're filled to the brim with him.  He slides out and you turn around. 

He stumbles backwards in horror at what he's done. 

“I’m sorry, sugar.  I’m so sorry."

-

Part 2 HERE

Thank you for reading and engaging! Might wanna follow me if you like this because my posts are getting reported and might not show up in the tags.

-

All joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @lokanda @blackvelveteen1339  @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro

[onlyseokmins]

the devil wears baby blue • h.j.s.

Pairing: joshua hong x afab!reader Genres: smut (minors PLS dni!), strangers to fucking lol Warnings: joshua hong himself 🚩🚩, swearing, alcohol, reader is a menace and tease too i'm ngl, grinding, groping, slight exhibition kink, degradation, name-calling, objectification, FINGERS (all of it fingering, riding, etc), mentions of knife/surgery, choking, wbk but major hints to big cock josh 💔, marking, licking, alluding to devil imagery uwu, roleplay sort of but not really, kind of public sex acts + a mirror, manhandling, lil slaps, dangerous fashion decisions + "fun" clothing shenanigans during sex ig????, mentions of car sex and oral sex (male rec.), dirty talk (joshua won't stfu), edging, lil bit of pain kink if you squint ❤️‍🩹, and tons of banter/insults, is there a thing like a wealth kink??? - as always lmk if i missed smth WC: 7k A/N: *taps mic* would love to thank @onlymingyus and @duhnova for proofing, hyping, and supporting me on this. also ofc a huge honorary shout out to @hwanghyunjinenthusiast for the constant cheering and screeching at me in and out of dms - hope you enjoy this hehe. idk if jackie will see this but her watch post(s) helped re-inspire me to attack this wip. and finally blowing kisses to the joshushushus in my inbox, i hope you'll like this! ps if anyone recognizes where the last dialogue is from, you receive a kiss on the forehead from me and get to spend one night with joshua!! 😏

↪ this is a loosely based prequel to idiot

Seungkwan's hand lays steady on your back, guiding you through the crowd much more efficiently than you could have on your own. He has a way of navigating through the waves of people with practiced ease whereas you would rather just be swept away. It's why you enjoy going to the club with him, especially one as crazy as tonight's.

You would think you were still on the dance floor with how many people are bustling around you, mingling and giggling just as much on the sidelines as they do moving to the music. Drinks in hand, they chat and flirt with one another so it takes nearly twice as long to make it to the bar than you think it really should.

"This better be worth it," you shout directly into your friend's ear despite how close you are to him. "For the amount of times my feet have been stepped on!"

There's a sharp pinch from his fingers that snuck to your side. "Told you not to wear those stupid shoes." 

Though you can't exactly hear it, you can see how his pouty lips purse out in a huff. He's also grumbling under his breath and you're able to catch bits and pieces. Things like, "won't matter" and "swept off your feet anyways" and "don't blame me" make you roll your eyes.

"Acting like this is my social debut with the prince of wales."

"Someone's been watching too much Bridgerton. And with how often you fail to come —" he's interrupted by the loud thumping of the bass, "makes sense."

"You can't possibly compare me against your standards, Mister Social Butterfly. You know everyone… and you've probably screwed a lot of them as well."

Seungkwan can only guess a gist of what you actually say and is therefore mildly tempted to let you get lost in the sea of people like he knows you'd rather prefer. But he's finally made it all the way over to what seems like an impenetrable social circle, though the group readily parts to make room for the two of you to squeeze in. So, he'll have to bring you along for the adventure. 

"Hey there!" 

"Hello!"

"Fancy seeing you here."

"I know, right?" 

Greetings are easily interchanged. Most of them are familiar faces — friends of your own or people you've gotten to know simply through Seungkwan's ever-growing collection of new instagram posts. 

Jeonghan's got some poor new soul to flirt with again and Seokmin looks like he'd rather be at home watching cooking videos. Vernon is wearing headphones of all things while Seungcheol has a shit-eating grin on his handsome face. And you instinctively know Mingyu has to be up to no good because you don't see or hear him.

Not that you're actually paying that much attention to the same-old-same people, focus naturally drawn to the tall man standing next to Wonwoo. Light brown hair curls just beneath his ears, shaggy enough that the urge to run your fingers through and imagine what the tug of strands between them might feel like consumes you. It comes as a shock, considering that Jeonghan's had the same style before and you've never felt like this.

You drink in the baby blue shirt that compliments the mystery man's skin tone, top buttons left undone to showcase the delicate silver around his throat and framed by collar bones. The fabric's elegance belies the strength of the body it clothes, material straining tastefully in the tiniest bit over a broad chest and wide shoulders. Sleeves rolled up to accentuate the flex of his forearm down to the long, long fingers wrapped all the way around the glass of alcohol held between them.

"That's Joshua Hong," Seungkwan supplies helpfully though he can't hide how smug he sounds observing you and shares a knowing look with Vernon who snickers.

"Joshua Hong," you repeat and enjoy how easy his name sounds and feels coming off your tongue. "Is that so?"

"Yeah and to my knowledge, he's extremely single."

"Don't tell me that's how you introduce me to other people."

He feigns innocence. "Can't recall but even if I did, bet it's going to work in your favor. Don't look now but it seems like you've caught a big fish."

Of course, when someone tells you not to look, the first thing you'd logically do is look. Glad you weren't caught staring earlier now that the very same man you were drooling over has noticed your existence and is staring directly at you. 

Brown irises drop down to scan your figure and the suggestiveness of it lights something deep within you. You're quick to nudge off Seungkwan's arm around your waist when Joshua's eyes linger a second longer on it than you'd expect, ignoring your friend's sassy mutter of "hook, line, and sinker."

"I… I really don't like that implication, 'Kwan."

"Sure you don't."

Joshua Hong's intent gaze is far from unsavory. Even if it was more perverse in nature, you think you'd feel drunk off the same amount of power it fills you with and you haven't had a single drop of alcohol yet. A swear word escapes under your breath at the dampness of your back — and elsewhere — before sending the admiring man a demure smile of acknowledgement and turning once more to Seungkwan.

"You were criticizing my shoes earlier?"

"'Cause you can barely walk in them!"

"Then let's put these bad boys to good use."

Your friend can only shake his head as you stride away. He'll keep an occasional eye on you from afar for the rest of the night but he has a hunch things will be… fine. He hopes. Wonwoo did say Joshua was a decent man, after all.

He'll have to be… if he's willing to put up with you, Seungkwan thinks to himself with a cringe as he watches. 

Vernon hands over a much appreciated beer and he sidles up to the unbothered man's side, jutting his chin out in your direction and asking, "Are you ready for some entertainment?"

"Yo, always bro."

"Cheers to that."

Meanwhile, you've made it to the new company without stumbling once — something you're very proud of. You nod at Joshua. Nothing more than a soft flutter of eyelashes, alerting him that you're aware of his presence but indulging in nothing more. Instead, you choose to lean comfortably into his companion's space.

"Hi Woo, care to share?"

The bespectacled man wordlessly offers his nearly empty glass of wine, always easygoing and ever perceptive. Unlike his best friend who never fails to be endearing but can't take a hint to save his life. One of the many reasons why Mingyu has never succeeded as a wingman —  unfathomably clumsy but still loveable in all aspects to steal everyone's heart involved.

You finish the rest of Wonwoo's drink off with a satisfied hiss at the taste but not without a snort. "I didn't mean that, silly."

He cracks a smile, returning the teasing with a fake, reproaching scold of your name. "Could've told me you wanted to steal my buddy and not drain all my alcohol!"

Joshua laughs — loud and clear above the din of noises surrounding you. It has an air of gracefulness to it and you're sure the club brightens in a way that's totally not from the strobe lights going crazy.

"So, this is Seungkwan's friend…"

You jab Wonwoo's side with a huff. "Hey, I'm much more than that!"

"If it's any consolation," Joshua cuts in with another laugh and a handshake, taking on a self introduction. "I'm just some guy named Joshua. Hope that doesn't disappoint."

"Just some guy, huh? One that wears a Royal Oak?" 

He thrillingly doesn't let go of your hand, keeping a firm but gentle grasp when turning it with his to properly glance at the notorious status symbol wrapped around it. The steel casing glints just as fiercely as the sapphire glass over white gold hour-markers embedded on its face. 

"Yep, still just some guy that's called Josh. Joshua Hong, to be exact. Scared you off yet?" 

"I wear heels that have a one hundred percent chance of breaking my ankle to a place where there's a terrible combo of dancing and drinks. But you think I'd be scared by a pretty boy wearing thirty-some jewels around his wrist?"

He steals another appreciative look up and down your body. Not as fiery as the first one but still bold without shame, striking another bolt of heat that flashes through your veins and simmers in your lower abdomen. 

"Taste. And bite. I'd expect nothing less from someone like you."

"Someone like me?" you scoff as he winks, taking a step back and extending your arm as far as it will go with the notion for you to follow.

"Dance with me?"

Wonwoo had quietly faded into the background and slipped away for another refill. Smart guy. There's no one to worry about leaving behind when you accept this unfamiliar man's invitation and let him whisk you in the direction of the dancefloor. But not before catching Seungkwan's mild and supportive yet watchful gaze before he raises his beer in a mock salute.

It's almost cute at how inept Joshua is maneuvering through the tumultuous flow and ebb of moving bodies compared to said good friend. The way his taller frame looks more like a poor cruise ship tossed helplessly in the waves of the ocean than the stationary lighthouse and its reassuring beacon you'd expect causes a chuckle.

"You're almost as bad at this as I am."

He shoots an apologetic smile at the same time someone once again jostles his shoulder, pushing him closer into you. "Nightclubs really aren't my scene."

You're not complaining about the aided proximity that lets you hear what he says without strain. Although you do try to match the beat as it changes to something more sensual yet still playful. Going along with the rhythm of the other dancers rather than against much smoother than Joshua's awkward attempt to mimic. He sticks behind you, failing to hide the blatant mesmerization at how you sway effortlessly to the beat.

"You're not bad at this at all."

You shrug. "I've been here often enough to blend in better than most. So tell me, what's a rich boy's usual scene then? Shanqin Bay's clubhouse?"

"Hah, you wanna come with me sometime and find out?"

"Only if you can promise a fun experience… oh," you throw a smirk at him over your shoulder, "and to cover all the costs, of course."

"A pretty thing like you would have anyone saying yes and wrapped around your little finger." 

"Maybe, but only if they're worth my attention."

"Afraid to disappoint yet again when I spend most hours of the day in the operating room."

You turn abruptly to face him, grateful for the hand that shoots out to support your elbow despite his surprise at your dubious side-eye. "Are you a doctor?"

"Maybe."

"Director's son?"

"Cliché enough for you yet?"

"I recall someone who's wearing a Royal Oak saying I had good taste so I'm not going to complain. Though it would have been quite the story to hear you were the one under the knife," you take a step closer and slip a finger underneath his silver chain to tempt him closer, "to end up looking this good." When large hands hesitate to land on your hips, you raise an eyebrow. "Thought a surgeon would have a steadier grip."

"Oh." Brown eyes flicker with a carnal desire, focusing on your lips. "You expect me to be a rich, talented playboy and not be naturally handsome too?" 

"Sorry, Doctor Hong but there has to be at least something wrong with you."

The polite smile he'd been wearing all night quirks up at the corners, changing into something more on edge. A little dangerous. Beckoning excitement. He spins you back around, hands solidly landing on your sides — this time without reserve — to prevent your lower bodies from touching and changes the subject back to when you approached Wonwoo and him.

"Do you always take drinks from guys?"

"Ah, hm. Just the good ones."

"Good alcohol?" His breath is hot against the ear he's speaking directly into. "Or… good boys?"

Biting your lower lip does nothing to hide the unfettered glee you're feeling. "Alcohol, of course." A breathy sigh and you take the leap. "Want a taste?"

There's no need to ask twice. It's like the right key turning its lock. The doctor's initial awkward movements are nowhere to be found as one hand smoothly leaves your hip, turning your chin toward him to meet you halfway with his lips ready to brush against yours. 

At the last minute, he backs off and turns your chin to its original position of facing forward with a smirk you can't see. Who cares about a missed kiss when his other hand slides across your stomach? Urging you to press your ass backwards and grind against the very obvious bulge that his khakis do nothing to hide.

Its growing hardness and promising length cause you to automatically moan, arching your back with the feral need to feel more. Your head tilts to the side, hips swiveling and swaying not to the beat but the rise of his cock. The position willingly grants Joshua access to lick, suck, and bite at the exposed skin. 

He hums along to the music with a melodic voice from what you can hear, though you find more enjoyment in the consistent vibrations against your neck. A naughty hand plays with the tucked-in hem of your blouse and an occasional finger teasingly slips under the waistline of your jeans.

You can now feel Joshua's smirk when in turn, your fingers tangle in the bottom hairs of his mullet. His lips curl up, moving to nibble behind your other ear and breathe in your scent. As delightfully predicted, there's a distinct pull by your rings when you tug them free from the strands that has him pausing. Eliciting a sharp hiss and equally as sharp — but appreciative — thrust against your backside. 

In retaliation, the lax hand caressing your throat tightens around it ever so slightly while he growls in your ear, "You said there has to be something wrong with me, right?"

"Mhm, oh yeah. Totally."

"Wanna fuck around and find out, beautiful?"

Hook, line, and sinker was damn right, Boo Seungkwan. Of course, the devil would be wearing a shirt the same shade as the sky where heaven's clouds make their home.

And you eagerly take the forbidden fruit — his hand, once again — and teeter after him. The red flags are already starting to fly at full mast but into the dimly lit hallway you go, elated to find an empty and quiet corner right before the stairs leading down to the bathrooms.

Underneath the neon glow of the exit sign, Joshua pins you against the wall with your arms laying on his shoulders. If you thought the attacks from his mouth were rough on the dance floor, they turn ten times more animalistic now that he has something to support you with other than strong arms and big hands. A pair of soft lips and the warm wet tongue between them contrast with the digging in of his teeth that follow your necklace chain to its adorning pendant. 

It hangs in the v-neck window of your blouse and he lets out a tiny grunt of displeasure at the breasts being concealed away by the fabric and its many buttons. That doesn't stop him from tugging the bottom of the shirt free like a petulant child, nothing preventing his fingers now free to tickle and feel up the bare skin beneath. 

This man is good at distraction. You don't think much of the light grazing beneath your tits, only a fleeting and casual touch. It feels so good when he cups under them like an additional support for the bra you're wearing and squeezes, causing you to keen and push yourself further into him. Then quick as lightning, one hand sneaks around the back to unhook the bra's clasp and the other deftly unbuttons your jeans.

"Joshua!" you squeak in protest, stepping back and pressing flat against the wall. You're quick to rush and slap a hand against your chest to keep the beloved strapless bra that's served you well from falling to the ground. "Is your red flag undressing someone in public?"

"Only if you insist 'cause surely I would never decline such a request being the gentleman that I am." The doctor makes no further move despite the way he licks his lips and teases, only chuckling at the menacing way you squint. "Just know my full intentions are to be touching all over and especially under whatever layers you're wearing very shortly."

There's no use hiding the whine that escapes when he places a hand on the wall next to you and leans in with a smirk.

"However, sweetheart… " 

You catch his line of sight dart off to the left and your heart plummets, the fear of being left high and dry (wet) setting in. "Josh — "

"You'll have to forgive this rich boy's schemes. You see, I've always been very spoiled and just have to take what I want right away. And you're much too irresistible…" 

He speaks casually. Like your jeans weren't suddenly unzippered and he isn't currently running a tantalizing finger on the fabric below the waistband of your panties, causing them to soaken further down. Way more than they already had and almost where you need him but also not even close in the slightest. 

"Though as a rich boy," he continues, "I'm more than familiar with providing a small courtesy here and there. Would this club's filthy bathroom offer enough privacy for you, gorgeous?"

"… Only if you make sure I'm presentable enough to get down there… and back up here after, for when I have to leave with my friends."

Joshua's eyes widen before he's throwing his head back and laughing, bright and cheery like he's not going to rearrange your guts. "So you don't expect to go home with me? Maybe I won't be such a walking red flag to you."

"Doubtful. Now fix me up, Doctor." 

"With pleasure." 

It's not like there are as many people milling about as in the main area. Still, it's good to be conscientious. The same adept hands re-fasten your top undergarment efficiently. When he ducks his head to kindly fix your pants — which is sort of hot — you take the opportunity to whisper in his ear for shit-and-giggles to gauge his reaction.

"You know there's a front clasp too."

He glances up from where he's eye-level with your covered breasts, eyes darkening. Bingo. 

"What a little whore we have here, hm?"

The nonchalant, degrading question and burning desire in his gaze makes your knees weaken, arousal skyrocketing. Enough that you almost throw all caution to the wind for him to fuck you. Right here, right now. But then he's pulling away, offering a palm you can't seem to refrain from taking a hold of. And ever the true picture of being a gentleman — helps you descend down the dark stairwell.

Your killer heels really do nothing for you physically (besides the threat of rolling an ankle) because it doesn't matter how tall or short you end up with them on. It's the confidence and ego that are heightened exponentially, which is all that matters. 

That's why you follow Joshua Hong into the sketchy bathroom, let him lock the door, and bat your eyelashes with a coy smile. Leaning against the sink and fussing with your blouse as he approaches like a predator eyeing up its prey. Greedily drinking in the bare skin revealed by each button that's undone until only one is still fastened — right across your tits — that the man can unclasp himself if he so chooses.

Barely anything stopped him before anyways.

And that's what also fuels you to put your arms around his neck, pressing your bodies close together. Even closer by hooking your right leg across his hip, the point of your heel digging intentionally into the back of his other thigh. It's hot and hard — the dick bulge that keeps growing pressed tightly into the snug warmth of your core — and Joshua lets you grind down and dampen his khakis for a few moments longer than expected.

"Desperate, aren't you? Didn't wanna fuck in public 'cause you're freakier behind closed doors?"

"Just a little." You fight back the urge to whimper or admit anything to him. Like you aren't humping his length that only swells more and feels achingly thicker the harder you rut against it, eyelids fluttering the few times it's able to deliciously spread your pussy lips just the slightest through your clothes. "I'm so wet — "

"The more of a mess you leave on my pants, the longer I'll have to edge you while waiting for them to dry." Joshua grins cockily at you trying to force your hips to stop themselves only to struggle pathetically in vain. "Think you'd like that. Haven't even gotten to fuck this hot little cunt yet and I'm already certain I wouldn't mind being buried in there for hours. But don't know if your friends will stick around for that long…"

"J-Josh, ah — Shua… mhm!"

"So I think you'd better behave if you know what's good for you," he stills your hips hard, "fuckin' slut."

You mewl at the hard, rude thrust that bumps your clit as if he was actually fucking you. Like goo, you let him manhandle you around so you're bent over and facing the smudged mirror, hands gripping tightly to each side of the sink basin. Aided by the reflections, you witness how he shamelessly ogles the tempting ass that's been rubbing all over him all night. And of course that means you have to perk up and wiggle your hips, giving him quite a show.

The small distance between you clears the lust cloud and you throw a smoldering glance over your shoulder. "If you fuck me with my heels on, I'll give you a chance with them off."

Joshua swats your ass — not very hard but you release a yelp of surprise. "Wasn't aware that you were running the show, sweetheart."

"It's my backside you're looking at."

"Knew you were mouthy the minute I saw you. You're aware of how kind I am, so let me give you a choice." He's anything but kind as he sighs and leans his weight over top of you. Despite the bracing strength of his arms, you feel suffocated by just being caged in between them and the overpowering scent of his cologne. "I shut you up with either my fingers in your mouth or around your throat."

Oh… decisions, decisions! Long fingers that would surely feel best deep inside your pussy but that wasn't one of the options. You purse your lips in thought and arch up, balancing the heavy cock supported by your ass and unconsciously pouting. Joshua has the audacity to look at the time while brushing back his hair and clicks his tongue.

"Wow, I'm letting you choose between sucking on my fingers like a slut or being choked like a whore and you still can't decide? What a high maintenance toy."

The urge to scoff is extremely strong. "Sucking it is then, Doctor Hong," you say sweetly and then add with a sneer, "like the perfect slut that I truly am."

"When your friends all said you were nothing but a gentle soul, I knew they were duped. Only one was partially truthful in saying you could be sassy which doesn't even come close. Little do they know there's a bratty cockwhore with quite a bite underneath all that charm."

"Haven't fucked any of them, that's why. No plans to either."

"Yeah, what was it you like — oh right, good boys?" He laughs — low, mean, and degrading. "Then what am I, sweetheart?"

"A doctor who's full of himself and needs taken down a few, ha, pegs."

"Ah, there it is." Joshua undoes the final button, slipping a curious finger beneath the bra's front hook pulling your tits together. You shiver when it snaps against your skin after he retracts, pointer finger tracing a lazy line up your throat to its final destination. "The attitude."

You willingly part your lips, lolling your tongue out mischievously to match the roll of your eyes. "Someone gets off on it."

"Is that so?" He smears the lipgloss on your lower lip by pulling it down before releasing it. "Do you think this is all a coincidence, darling?" Meeting the hardened gaze in the mirror, you shake your head. "The minute I saw such a sparkling gem on Wonwoo's story, I just had to have it for myself."

It's not hard to guess what he's referring to. A couple weeks ago, you wore enough scraps of fabric to just cover your nipples and the areas between your legs. Drinking far too much and hanging off of the WonGyu duo's broad frames while the whole gang partied it up together at Vernon's. You had even asked them to send you the videos and pictures after because damn, you did look hot as fuck.

Who knew it would be bait for an entitled pretty boy? 

"At least you waited to find me when I wasn't drunk."

"Much more fun to break someone sober."

"Glad to know consensual exists in your vocabulary."

"How about it — will you let me destroy this little pussy of yours and ruin it to keep you crawling back to me for more?"

"Sure, if you ever stop talking and actually do something — "

Joshua's quick to shut you up, almost cracking your jaw with the harsh thumb that's jammed in the corner of your mouth to prop it open. The following two fingers are thrust cruelly inside as a replacement so it can move to keep your chin steady. They're able to reach so far when pinning down your tongue, ending up wedged near the back of your throat so you're already gagging around them. 

"Most sluts behave the second I drop the nice guy act. But boy oh boy, it only makes you act up more, eh?" 

He finally does away with your bra to allow those gorgeous tits to spill out and casually rips the garment from your body like it's personally offended him. Maybe it has. Shoving it away into his back pocket and then urgently tugging your jeans down. The binding position you're left in helps keep your shaky legs in place while you cling to the sink like it's a lifeline. Upper body supported only by the cruel hold he has on your face until he yanks it back so you're flush against him instead, the cool baby-blue silk of his shirt set ablaze by your shared body heat. 

"Next time, wear something that has easier access. Or better yet… maybe nothing at all or I'll be forced to rip it off." A piercing set of eyes attempt to glare into yours that roll back delightfully despite what's likely some snark ends up sounding all jumbled. "Oh yes, there will be a next time, sweetheart. I have to train this cunt to yearn for my cock — and you don't think you'll get it that easily, right?"

Joshua chuckles darkly knowing you can't reply. But liking to be full of surprises, you relax your upper jaw while his fingers trail across your pelvis and close your lips around the ones in your mouth. Suckling and swirling once the tension in them relaxes despite the naughty thought of biting. That doesn't eliminate the occasional graze of your teeth as a threat, responding to his words in your own way.

"Just look at yourself, slobbering all over… bet you suck cock like a champ. And prolly like it real messy. How well-trained you'd look trying to balance on these pointed heels while I fuck that bratty mouth."

You moan at the visual he's painted in your head. 

"That's right, darling." There's a mean pinch to your clit followed by the man's groan at the ruined fabric squelching between his fingertips and how the covered little nub was already begging for friction. "Now tell me how long your cunt's been warming up and soaking these drenched panties?"

"Since the beginning…" you admit once he's freed your sore mouth and chooses to bully your breasts next. "When you looked at me."

He snickers, pushing your underwear to the side and petting at the bare slippery folds. Just able to barely see a small glimpse of where his actions play with your lower body in the mirror. At least your expressions make up for what he misses seeing.

"Aw, this soft pussy started drooling the minute I laid eyes on you? While I was imagining all the things I could do to these tits," the hand on one of them palms at the rounded flesh hard. "This ass," his pelvis grinds in a slow circle against it. "Mhm, and of course, this hidden gem." 

At that, a thumb brutally rubs at your clit while plunging a finger inside the warm, wet walls that eagerly pulse around it. You weren't wrong about how good the digit would feel inside, the length and stretch of its bony knuckle feeling good enough to substitute as a mini-dick when Joshua starts a slow and methodical pace with it.

"Thought about having you spread out in the backseat of my Bugatti La Voiture Noire, you'd look like a vision laying across its leather seats. And the best thing? No one can see inside so you'll get your much desired privacy while being right out in the open."

Then he's adding another finger, longer than the first. And finally one more with an additional push in and out of the others. Clearly his experience on how to work a pussy is more than helpful. Alternating between stuffing your hole full of all three or changing up the pace and number each turn. 

And of course, your chest is attended to as well. Both nipples tugged in iterations to match the rhythm of each finger spearing into your cunt, the pendant of your necklace bouncing in time. Without fail, he hits the bundle of nerves with a deadly precision that has you going slack against him.

"Maybe we should do that 'cause," he mumbles in your ear, "this filthy hole is awfully good at convincing me to spoil its owner like no one else. Let's see if it can tell me how much it'll want me to fill it up one day."

Your ears ring with the devastating screams of white noise at the sudden stop. The moans you were letting out trail off into a dissatisfied growl. His hand falls away from your upper body while the one in between your legs merely sits nice and snug, still inside but not moving. Far too relaxed, limp even.

"Joshua!"

"C'mon, weren't you listening? Convince me."

"Fuck you," is what you spit out, glaring at the challenging and impossibly smug reflection of the menace behind you. 

"You didn't say fuck off, so… I'm waiting." 

Another check at his watch like he's bored infuriates you enough to move your hips. Whining at how his fingers fail to stiffen and only follow your pitiful motions back and forth. Out of protest, you reach behind and take a harsh hold of the hard length you're able to grab.

"Watch it, darling!" Joshua flinches and the way his cock twitches dulls the venomous words that come next. "Or I'll leave you here all needy and by yourself, waiting for some other pathetic dick to hop onto in order to satiate just a little bit of this wet and slutty pussy's behaviors."

Well, that idea doesn't appeal to you whatsoever so you lean on the sink with a huff to do what needs done. It's a struggle to stay balanced on your heels while grabbing at his wrist but a small part of you knows he won't let you fall, a bicep supporting under your breasts. Revenge comes sweetly by digging your nails into the tense muscle of his forearm and leaving scratch marks that have him hissing.

And now you know for sure —  despite the doctor's incredibly huge ego and big talk, Joshua Hong's no better than a painslut.

"Hah," you breathe out and start to slowly rock your hips. "Disrespectfully, go to hell."

Ignoring the abrasive insult — because he's a demon anyways — Joshua focuses on the wet suctioning sound growing louder the faster you move. The feeling of your tits and necklace hitting his arm to the beat of your hip bounces and enjoying the view of how his fingers disappear beyond the jiggle of your asscheeks. Up into the tight heat of velvety walls as you force his hand to behave and serve your needs like one of your dildos, though they've never been this uncooperative.

"That's it. Yeah, there we go… just like that. Go ahead and make yourself cum riding my fingers, beautiful. Uh-huh, now who's using me like a little whore to get off?"

You're already losing yourself. Waiting for that rising wave to crest because despite his annoying mouth, Joshua's fingers are more than skilled enough to hurl you into a delightful climax. As long as nothing interrupts it.

"Answer me — or I'll make you choke yourself."

"Mhm…"

He likes seeing how your face contorts, moans getting louder. It's too addicting which is why he growls out, "Do it." 

It's a feat to let go of the sink but the reward is to move his arm around your bra-line to your throat, making his hand envelope it. The visual in the mirror is depraved — limbs all wrapped and tangled with each other — and your half-closed eyes taunt the searing gaze in the mirror, repeating his words right back. 

"Why not do it yourself, Doctor?"

"Are you some sort of succubus or what?" He spits out the question like it's the germs on the toilet seat next to you. Freeing himself momentarily from the grip of your hand and your cunt, the man's at least nice enough to assuage the pissed off whine with a consoling lick up your neck and tugs impatiently at your pants. "Take these off."

"Go fuck yourself," you mutter darkly with half the mind to walk out of there. But you do as he says, quickly shimmying them off while your clit buzzes and twitches angrily at the neglect of stimulation again. 

Joshua's eyes don't look away, his hands steadying your hips and your pussy aching when you hear how he slowly slurps on his fingers to clean them. Once you step back into your heels, he throws the jeans over his shoulder. 

"Careful with the phone," you threaten. 

Joshua snorts and bends over to secure a strap for you — sucking harshly on the skin of your thigh as a "you're welcome" but pulling away before your hands can tangle in his hair and keep him down there. 

"Wrong thing to say to someone who likes broken and expensive things. Shouldn't you be warning me not to break something else?" Suddenly, your other shoe dangles precariously off your foot when he uses a strong hand to lift and support your leg onto the sink's surface. "Like this poor pussy?" 

The straining burn in your muscles and the added chill of the porcelain is all alleviated by harsh rubbing at the tender skin of your entrance. Middle and pointer finger eagerly prying sloppy pussy lips apart once again.

"Ah, but I might enjoy that." 

A clear glob of arousal drips from your hole fluttering and clenching around nothing. Joshua leers hungrily past your shoulder at the mirror's erotic display of your exposed cunt and the wetness shining under the buzz of the bathroom's fluorescent lights.

"Dirty and yet it's such a pretty little jewel. Sparkling and glistening so, so lovely that I can't wait to watch it shatter while playing with it."

Finally, all three fingers from before work in tandem to scissor repeatedly inside of your tight warmth without forgiveness. This time, the devil has nothing but good intentions to send you over the peak of pleasure. His eyes can't stop feasting on the raunchy way your greedy hole gobbles up his fingers. The loud squelches accompanying his motions echo around the small enclosed space, mixing with the warm breath hitting the side of his cheek from your gasping moans.

Joshua thinks it's mighty cute how puffy your outer pussy lips grow and struggle to spread around the thick and long digits shoved inside plus the onslaught of his thumb bullying your clit. The angle shows the slightest bulge of them relentlessly stroking the bundle of nerves that has your leg twitching from the sheer pleasure.

He focuses on bringing you there, all on what you're feeling rather than his own pleasure because you have the most convincing cunt ever that deserves to be ravaged by a large, girthy cock. A shame it has to wait because he cannot give in so easily. But you're definitely a piece of work. Joshua likes that. 

"Gonna keep making a mess on my fingers, darling? Leave 'em all sweet and wet enough for me to wrap around my dick later and pretend it's your pussy instead."

You'll be the death of him when your head rolls into the crease of his neck, drool dampening the skin as you mouth senselessly at the vein protruding beneath. There's a sharp sting — the certain kind he hasn't felt in a very long time. A telltale warning of a hickey, the beautiful colors of red and purple already rushing to the surface and decorated by little nips of your teeth after you soothe the pain with your tongue.

No one marks up Joshua Hong. Sure, he's had lipstick stains before but those can easily be swiped off with a handkerchief and washed away in the shower. He can't help but smirk though, knowing when he eventually wipes your sticky lipgloss off, something of you will remain for a bit.

However you can't go without a little punishment. If you can even call it that when he returns to wrapping a hand around your throat. Anyone else who dared to leave a mark would be walked away from. But you — you simply lose enough oxygen causing your head to spin more pleasantly than it already is. 

And you claw at his forearm, scratching it up ten times more to serve as a further reminder for Joshua to look at. You're by no means urging him to stop but to earnestly keep going while simultaneously searching for something — anything — to anchor you down as you float into an almost unconscious state of pure ecstasy. 

It's by far the strongest, most intense orgasm you'd ever experienced. Becoming nothing but a bag of bones in his arms as your walls pulsate around his fingers and the fruitful expenditure of your release drips down his wrist.

He stays in that position, unable to move anyways with the vice-like grip of your spasming cunt cramping his fingers. Instead, drawing out the pleasure as much as possible by squeezing and releasing the pressure on your throat over and over again. The true picture of debauchery — heaven and sin mixed in one — and he kind of wishes for a third arm to take a photo for a keepsake. 

Everything in your body aches deliciously. You feel both refreshed and exhausted when you finally come to and even then Joshua supports your weak body as you try to regain control over your wits and whereabouts.

"Pants," you croak out and wave him off when he tries to gentlemanly assist. Which he still kind of has to when you almost topple face-first on legs that feel like jelly. "Bra." 

Joshua's a little less enthusiastic to hand that over, bitter sarcasm lacing his words. "Wow, won't even grant me a souvenir?"

"Boo-hoo," you gripe back and pretend not to notice the eyes glued to the way your tits bounce when adjusting the garment around them. Turning to look in the mirror, you work on dulling the "just got fingered in the bathroom" appearance. "It's not like you need one and it seems even less likely you'll keep anything from a stranger, especially lingerie."

"Hm, I like how well you read me."

"Of course you do, fuels that large privileged ego. Don't get used to it. But, want me to do something about that one though?"

He coughs at the rather suggestive insult, shifting his pants and shirt that does absolutely nothing to hide the messy boner you're referencing. "Guess I did a great job if you're begging for it already."

"Oh, for goodness sake I'm being courteous."

"Cute." 

Joshua admits it almost like he's startled by the words that escape his mouth. Further surprising both of you with a clumsy, sloppy kiss to the cheek when he leans over to fasten the top button of your blouse. As if embarrassed, he's already halfway out the door when he remembers to mention, "I'll be thinking of you darling, look forward to your call!"

You're left staring at the saliva spot reflected on your cheek in shock. And then, you wipe it off with the rest of the accumulated sweat to make yourself a bit more presentable and then head back to the club as naturally as possible.

Dr. Hong is seemingly nowhere in sight as expected. You figure it would be hard to return with a raging boner despite the low lighting and he probably left through the back exit to likely jerk off in his ridiculously expensive car. The visual of white ropes of cum streaming past the steel band of the Royal Oak around his wrist haunts your mind, making your aching core buzz to life again and your sticky panties even grosser.

Out of pure spite, you hope he stains his shirt too. 

Luckily, Seungkwan is still at the bar when you wobble over in search of him. He shouts your name in mock shock, assessing your appearance with pursed lips and eyeballing your figure dubiously. 

"You look like hell."

"Yeah?" you laugh it off as nonchalantly as possible, unaware of the phone in your back pocket lighting up with a returned text message from a newly saved number and a scandalous picture attached. "I just got back."

onlyseokmins: July 2023 ©

[rebeccathenaturalist]

An App Does Not a Master Naturalist Make

Originally posted on my website at https://rebeccalexa.com/app-not-master-naturalist/ - I had written this as an op-ed and sent it to WaPo, but they had no interest, so you get to read it here instead!

I have mixed feelings about Michael Coren’s April 25 Washington Post article, “These 4 free apps can help you identify every flower, plant and tree around you.” His ebullience at exploring some of the diverse ecological community around him made me grin, because I know exactly what it feels like. There’s nothing like that sense of wonder and belonging when you go outside and are surrounded by neighbors of many species, instead of a monotonous wall of green, and that is a big part of what led me to become a Master Naturalist.

When I moved from the Midwest to the Pacific Northwest in 2006, I felt lost because I didn’t recognize many of the animals or plants in my new home. So I set about systematically learning every species that crossed my path. Later, I began teaching community-level classes on nature identification to help other people learn skills and tools for exploring their local flora, fauna, and fungi.

Threeleaf foamflower (Tiarella trifoliata)

Let me be clear: I love apps. I use Merlin routinely to identify unknown bird songs, and iNaturalist is my absolute favorite ID app, period. But these tools are not 100% flawless.

For one thing, they’re only as good as the data you provide them. iNaturalist’s algorithms, for example, rely on a combination of photos (visual data), date and time (seasonal data), and GPS coordinates (location data) to make initial identification suggestions. These algorithms sift through the 135-million-plus observations uploaded to date, finding observations that have similar visual, seasonal, and location data to yours.

There have been many times over the years where iNaturalist isn’t so sure. Take this photo of a rather nondescript clump of grass. Without seed heads to provide extra clues, the algorithms offer an unrelated assortment of species, with only one grass. I’ve gotten that “We’re not confident enough to make a recommendation” message countless times over my years of using the app, often suggesting species that are clearly not what I’m looking at in real life.

Because iNaturalist usually offers up multiple options, you have to decide which one is the best fit. Sometimes it’s the first species listed, but sometimes it’s not. This becomes trickier if all the species that are suggested look alike. Tree-of-Heaven (Ailanthus altissima), smooth sumac (Rhus glabra) and eastern black walnut (Juglans nigra) all have pinnately compound, lanceolate leaves, and young plants of these three species can appear quite similar. If all you know how to do is point and click your phone’s camera, you aren’t going to be able to confidently choose which of the three plants is the right one.

Coren correctly points out that both iNaturalist and Pl@ntNet do offer more information on suggested species—if people are willing to take the time to look. Too many assume ID apps will give an easy, instant answer. In watching my students use the app in person almost everyone just picks the first species in the list. It’s not until I demonstrate how to access the additional content for each species offered that anyone thinks to question the algorithms’ suggestions.

While iNaturalist is one of the tools I incorporate into my classes, I emphasize that apps in general are not to be used alone, but in conjunction with field guides, websites, and other resources. Nature identification, even on a casual level, requires critical thinking and observation skills if you want to make sure you’re correct. Coren’s assertion that you only need a few apps demonstrates a misunderstanding of a skill that takes time and practice to develop properly—and accurately.

Speaking of oversimplification, apps are not a Master Naturalist in your pocket, and that statement —while meant as a compliment–does a disservice to the thousands of Master Naturalists across the country. While the training curricula vary from state to state, they are generally based in learning how organisms interact within habitats and ecosystems, often drawing on a synthesis of biology, geology, hydrology, climatology, and other natural sciences. A Master Naturalist could tell you not only what species you’re looking at, but how it fits into this ecosystem, how its adaptations are different from a related species in another ecoregion, and so forth.

Map showing Level III and IV ecoregions of Oregon, the basis of my training as an Oregon Master Naturalist.

In spite of my criticisms, I do think that Coren was absolutely onto something when he described the effects of using the apps. Seeing the landscape around you turn from a green background to a vibrant community of living beings makes going outside a more exciting, personal experience. I and my fellow nature nerds share an intense curiosity about the world around us. And that passion, more than any app or other tool, is fundamental to becoming a citizen naturalist, Master or otherwise.

Did you enjoy this post? Consider taking one of my online foraging and natural history classes or hiring me for a guided nature tour, checking out my other articles, or picking up a paperback or ebook I’ve written! You can even buy me a coffee here!

[anundyingfidelity]

I'M A RUIN — Soldier Boy/Ben (Part I)

Summary: After the events of the Seven Tower, you present Grace Mallory a new secret project you're working on already to develop a cure to Compound V. The only problem? You need Soldier Boy for that.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female reader.

Word count: 1,536.

Warnings for series: set after S3 (spoilers), some OOC!Ben, some depressed!Ben, angst, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, slow-burn, language, PTSD, reader has Compound V (she's no Vought supe tho), Soldier Boy being an usual asshole, reader is a fucking liar.

Notes: As soon as I saw him my feminism left my body immediately and my inner voice agreed that I'd let him take away my human rights with no question. He's an absolute idiot, would sleep with him 100%.

Heads up as English is not my native language sooo, yeah you know what follows. Lord pls give me inspo to finish this fic, amen.

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

get yourself in the taglist!

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII

GEN MASTERLIST! — SERIES MASTERLIST!

Part I: For The Common Good

Two months.

Two months ago Grace Mallory decided to put the former greatest supe into sleep. Somehow, you managed to get in her head, explaining your new project to her and finding a new use for Soldier Boy, who had enough rest for 40 years.

You knew what happened at the Seven Tower, how Soldier Boy and Butcher's team ended up there to finally kill Homelander. Grace tried doing some shit against Vought before, but she never managed to win. It wasn't different this time. What was better then, that to develop a cure for supes like you, who didn't ask for it? People who never used their powers in public, nor seeked fame and money.

As a doctor in Chemistry, you were developing a cure for Compound V with a secret team. Suitable for you, you were in the same CIA tower Colonel Mallory decided to encapsulate Soldier Boy to, initially, spend the rest of his days in. You had luck Grace gave green light to the project, even though your team was already working on it without her approval anyway. But it was so much better if she found out properly.

Making your way to the super secured wing where Soldier Boy was held out of his sleep, you gripped the folder in your hands. You were scanned thoroughly before going inside a cold space, where two different crystal windows and metal doors separated the place. The armed guard guided you to the first room to check first through the window. You sighed, seeing a man sitting down, hands cuffed to a harsh steel table, gaze lost. It was him.

"The keys," you requested the guard by your side.

"Doctor-"

"I said, keys. He doesn't need to be cuffed."

He complied to your order, clearly annoyed but with a straight face and you walked to the closed door.

"If something happens, I can take care of myself. Don't let anyone inside understand?" you said.

He gave a nod. With that, he let you inside the room, the doors closing behind your back.

The prisoner observed you carefully as soon as you entered. His gaze was tired, but he seemed ready to attack, and it was completely hard to ignore his rough stare on you as you made your way to your seat in front of him. Soldier Boy observed you, placing the folder on the surface, and you held his gaze, not flinching for a second. Until you decided to talk first.

"I am glad you're awake. My name is Y/N, I am a doctor at the facility. Just wanna know how you're doing today," you spoke in a calm and soft way, so he could see you were not a threat.

He saw you roaming through the pages of the file, which he recognized as a copy of his file, and you took a pen from your lab coat to make some anotations.

"Not a smart move to let a fucking doctor here," he said with a deep voice, lips forming a straight line. "What do you want?"

"I want to help you."

"Cut the bullshit."

"I want to talk. If you let me, I will uncuff you so we can have a chat, like civilized people. Just don't try to escape, you won't go too far."

He raised an eyebrow as you reached his wrists and carefully, you set him free from the metal grip.

"I know what happened with Butcher and his boys," you said, confident that he would not try anything else. "About Homelander and your relationship with him."

"What the fuck do you know?" Soldier Boy tensed visibly hearing the name of the bastard. Still, he remained on his seat. "Want some info? You can lick Grace's pussy for that."

"She is, actually, the one who approved me to be here right now," you answered, brushing off his vocabulary. You used to deal with assholes like him all the time.

He scoffed. "Why?"

"Ben," you called his real name softly. "You've been sleeping for four decades. You deserve a second chance, I am offering you that. In some sort of way."

"I'm not going to be part of that freakshow-"

"This has nothing to do with Vought," you cut his words, his tone rising and you knew perfectly why. "You just need to be here in the facility, awake, in a dignified place we will give you so you can learn everything you missed. We can give you therapy, a comfy room, anything you want that's legal, of course..."

His jaw clenched, feeling you would ask for something more. "In exchange of what?"

"I know it's hard, unfortunately you won't be able to get out, but you don't deserve to sleep forever again," you sighed. "I will pay you visits and follow your improvements because you're human, after all. That's all I ask from you," you gave him a smile for the first time.

For a few moments, he said nothing, as if making up his mind about it. "Alright, anything but coming back to that shit hole. I need reefer though."

"Lucky you, that's legal now. We can certainly make it happen."

He looked around the room as you let him go inside first. Not the fanciest, not the shittiest. It had the basics: a bed, a sofa, a TV, a closet, a bookshelf with different books, magazines and newspapers he wasn't sure would read any time, a separate door for a bathroom, enough privacy, and no windows though. It wasn't really a cell, but he did look and felt somehow like a hostage. Just a little less if he could say.

"This is what we have for now, I am all ears if you request something else to have in here," you began as he paced around and tested the bed, sitting down on the mattress.

Ben still wasn't convinced on why you offered this to him. Sceptic, he gave a good look at you, roaming his eyes at your standing figure in a fucking lab coat. Christ, he hated those. Too pretty for a doctor, but too dumb to be locked with a supe like him. He was so tired that he didn't try and hit on you like he normally would with any walking pussy that appeared in plain sight. He was too exhausted to even give a shit.

"Lemme think about it, doctor."

"Of course, take your time," you replied as he walked toward the bookshelf, scanning through the titles there were. He recognized only half of them.

"So, I will be imprisoned here instead of a fucking eggshell," Ben said, turning around to meet you. "Charming," he smirked, dragging the words out of his mouth. "Doing charity."

He watched your face drop as you shook your head. "It's not like that-"

"Then why keep me awake?" Ben insisted as he gave steps to get close to you. "I can't die, it's much easier to force my sleep in a capsule your boss made specially for me."

He stopped mere inches in front of you, your eyes never turned away from him. He thought you were fucking brave just by keeping his dark gaze.

"Ben, I told you I will be watching your progress. You can grow from all of this with our help-"

"What kind of doctor are you?"

"A psychiatrist. That's why I'm here."

Ben scoffed with a grin showing on his lips. He didn't believe in that kind of shit, but oh, well. What was he gonna do about it? He was tired of sleeping, Mallory captured him, and you were here, giving him a shelter for no cost, but his freedom. In his mind, that was temporary of course. With time, a plan would come. Right now, he just needed to keep up with the fucked up things of the modern world.

"I guess you would come and babysit me then," he said, going back to take a sit on the bed.

"Wouldn't use 'babysit you' but I will come to see you, that's for sure."

He nodded. Silence was his answer, so you continued.

"Just general rules. Our people will bring you three meals a day, if you're missing something that you need then just push the button by the door, there will be guards outside to assist you on that. Also, there are clothes your size on the closet and personal products so you can change and take a shower," he stayed silent again, just taking in your words. "If you don't need anything then I leave you to get comfortable," you said, about to leave.

"Wait. I do need something," he hesitated for a moment, but he continued anyway. "Don't use those lab coats when you come in."

Your eyes widened, he quickly realised you already knew why he was requesting that when you started to take off the coat, revealing your formal attire. You wrapped the coat on your arm and cleaned your throat.

"I totally understand, I will keep that in mind when I come tomorrow. And I will ask for your reefer too."

You flashed a final polite smile and left him to get settled. Ben breathed out. Fuck, he really needed a shower.

[selfindulgentpixies]

Soothing words and decaf

Satoru Gojo x Reader x Suguru Geto one shot

When nightmares wake you up once again your boyfriends decide they can't just leave you to sit up alone. Gn!reader, reader wears glasses and has bad eyesight, not stated where in the timeline this is. It's an AU where Suguru never left though. This is really just to comfort myself because my nightmares have been bad lately and making sleep super difficult. It why i've been slow on writing stuff because i'm tired a lot. Also i couldn't decide on just one of them for this comfort fic and needed to be doted on by both. Pls excuse any typos or mistakes

You wake with a start, a stuttering in your chest and a choked gasp. You gaze blearily up at the ceiling, your current location slowly invades your senses and pushes away the personal hell your subconscious  had been creating for you. There’s warm breath fanning over the crown of your head. It would probably be ruffling your bangs if not for the fact they were plastered to your forehead by the sweat. You glance to your right and see that at some point in his sleep Satoru had decided you were his personal teddy bear. Your eyes then drift to the left and you jolt slightly to find that Suguru is blinking back at you with a combination of tiredness and concern. 

“Another one?” He asks, voice low and thick with sleep. This had unfortunately become routine.

You go to speak and nothing comes out the first try but upon clearing your throat slightly and trying again you let out a small. “Yeah.. Go back to sleep, Sugu.” 

He huffs a little at your words and how you begin to try and wiggle out of Satoru’s arms without waking him. An impossible task given that all three of you weren’t what anyone could call heavy sleepers. Trauma will do that afterall. So it’s unsurprising when Satoru grumbles and tightens his grip on you. “You should take your own advice.” Satoru’s voice is just as gravely as Suguru’s and when you glance up you see him peering down at you with his impossibly bright eyes. 

“You know I can’t do that… Let me up and the two of you can get some sleep.” You scoot up to a sitting position, Satoru's arms wrapped around your waist making your task of reaching over him to the side table to get your glasses a far harder task than it needed to be. You whine and flop on him. Fine you’d just be blind. You wiggle down and under his arm, surprised he allowed you to do so as you slide to the end of the bed to get up. 

You didn’t feel like giving Satoru a chance to change his mind about letting you go so you don’t walk past him to get your glasses and instead just pad your way into the kitchen. Your shared apartment with the two men was so familiar you could probably navigate it wearing Satoru’s blindfold. 

Once you’re close enough to the microwave to make out the little glowing numbers you let out a huff. It wasn’t even five am yet. You’d maybe managed to get four hours of sleep which was becoming painfully typical. Today would be another day of surviving off coffee and hopefully slipping in a nap as soon as you got a chance. Your nightmares seemed to happen less when you slept during the day. 

You’re shuffling around the cupboards getting down what you need to make coffee when you hear quiet foot falls, perhaps near silent for someone else but your ears were sensitive and seemingly more so when you chose to mostly forgo being able to see. Anything beyond a couple feet away from you losing all clarity and blurring around the edges. Impressions of objects you only recognized based on familiarity.

Well mostly. “That’s the sea salt, love.” Suguru whispers against the shell of your ear as he takes the long cylindrical container from your hand to place back on the shelf and then grabs a very similar but not identical container that houses the sugar. 

You grumble. “Why do we even keep them next to eachother on the shelf?” Suguru’s hair tickling your neck makes you twitch slightly but you don’t brush it or him away as he leans over you, enveloping you in his warmth, resting his chin on your head as he bends at the waist and wraps his arms around your middle.

“Normally you’re wearing your glasses and can tell the difference.” there’s the smallest hint of amusement to his voice. 

You sigh. That was true. It annoys you but it’s true. You rock back on your heels and lean into his chest. “Really you should get more sleep. Go cuddle with Satoru, I’m sure he’s lonely trying to sleep alon-”

A loud yawn cuts through the kitchen as Satoru walks in. “Too late, already here.” 

“Seriously you both should-” 

“If we should be sleeping so should you. So either you come back to bed with us, or we’re all starting our day at this ungodly hour.” You feel Suguru’s jaw moving against the top of your head as he talks. 

You frown deeply, slouching in his hold. “I… can’t sleep okay? If i go back to sleep it’ll probably just start again.” 

Suguru hums and rocks the both of you back and forth. “Then it sounds like we’re all getting up then, right Satoru? “ He turns you both so you’re facing Satoru who’s much closer now.

Another yawn. “Sounds about right.” And as he says this he places your glasses on your face, bringing his own into focus for you. Satoru is beautiful as always but definitely looks like he needs more sleep. But you know very well how stubborn both he and Suguru are, they’re worse than you are. 

You cave. “Fine, stay up if you want then.” You wanted to sound petulant but instead you just sound tired. Suguru Squeezes you before rising to his full height and releasing you. “Go relax, I’ll make the coffee.” 

Before you can respond he gives you a small nudge in Satoru’s direction who doesn’t give you time to protest as he scoops you up and carries you toward the plush living room couch. He flops both of you down before rolling you so he’s squishing you into the plush fabric. “Satoruuuu-” You try to protest as he nuzzles into your neck. If you were more awake you might have caught on to what the two men were doing since in the kitchen Suguru put away the regular coffee and switched it out for decaf before brewing it. They still had some hope of lulling you back to sleep and caffeine wasn’t part of that. They knew you well enough that you likely just needed to be soothed and given time to get out of your head so you could be directed back to bed. 

“Mmm don’t want to cuddle me?” He pouts at you.

“You’re squishing me, you big menace!” 

The two of you go back and forth, you sinking back into the couch and giving Satoru his way despite complaining when what feels like suddenly Suguru is there holding two mugs of coffee and judging by the heap of whipcream on the third mug a cup of hot chocolate for Satoru. He kicks one of Satoru’s legs. “Move over and quit crushing them. “ 

Satoru grunts and starts to complain until he looks At Suguru and spots the mug topped with whipcream. He sits up quickly, suddenly looking angelic which earns a sigh from both you and the long haired man. You sit up and give Suguru a grateful smile as he passes you one of the steaming mugs. “Thank you, Sugu.” 

“Of course.” He leans forward and brushes his lips over your forehead. He gets you to scoot over slightly and as you often do you find yourself squished between the two men. You didn’t need to be squished, the couch was big enough, Satoru just seemed dead set on not moving further than he had to. 

You don’t really talk as you quietly sip at your coffee, instead listening to Satoru and Suguru talk about the upcoming day, voices low and soothing. You hardly notice when your mug is pulled from your hands and placed on the coffee table before you can spill the remnants of your drink on your lap. You blink rapidly realizing you’ve been completely zoned out only now to have Satoru’s face directly in yours. It’s brief because the next thing you know he’s picked you up for the second time that night, or rather morning. “Satoru-” You cut off in a yawn and wrap your arms around his shoulders, body shaking slightly with a stretch. 

“I think it’s time we head back to bed. Suguru and I have been talking to you and you haven’t even noticed,” he says amusement clear in his voice. You can hear Suguru in the background putting your mugs in the sink before following the two of you.

“Mm sorry,” you mumble against his shoulder, your glasses being pushed askew though you couldn’t care less. You feel more than hear Satoru laugh. And it feels like in the next blink he’s laying you back in bed, and gently slipping your glasses off before crawling in after you, wrapping you in his arms. It’s only a couple moments later that Suguru follows. A rough warm hand sliding under your sleep shirt to splay over your stomach. 

You’re finally back asleep then, safely tucked between the two of them where no harm can come to you, even if your dreams make you feel otherwise. The two of them will always be there to remind you that you’re safe.

@nanamikentoseyebags @strawberrystepmom @icy-spicy

@gojoest

[nickfowlerrr]

whatever he wants

pairing: darkish!bucky barnes x (gray?)curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. smut. tiny hint of voyeurism. uhhh this isn’t really dark but it’s not not dark either… so idk. if there’s something i’m missing pls lmk.

words: 3.4k

notes: smutty little part two to IOU. hope you guys like it. thank you in advance for reading and reblogging! as always, feedback and comments are more than welcome and so appreciated. please leave your thoughts, let me know what you think. 🖤

You can’t get up.

You’ve tried three times now, and nothing. The heavy metal arm slung around your waist just. won’t. budge.

You’re about to elbow him in the ribs, the heat of his body and the hot summer air is suffocating and you need to get up - you need to breathe.

One more try and if he doesn’t move, you’re gonna make him.

You roll onto your front and his arm drops onto your back, still keeping you from leaving the bed.

You writhe and huff in annoyance, turning your face to look at him.

He’s still sleeping. Still deceptively beautiful.

You stop your wiggling for a moment as you take him in. His pouty lips, his unfairly long lashes that brush just against his cheekbones, the stubble that’s lining his perfectly sculpted jaw, and his unruly bedhead.. He looks peaceful like this. Nice. So nice, you’d never believe he could be such an absolute dick so much of the time.

You stare a bit longer, wanting to commit the moment, how beautiful and content he looks right now, to memory.

You take a deep breath and try to roll back over, but the weight of his arm makes it no easy feat.

“Bucky,” you whisper yell, not wanting your voice to carry through the rest of the cabin.

You’re sure you’re the only one awake right now; well aside from Steve.

His leaving for his morning run was what had woken you up to begin with. You’ve been laying here for fifteen minutes and you needed to get up now, but Bucky still didn’t move.

You roll your eyes and exhale heavily.

If you punch him, he’ll wake up, but he’ll be pissed. And you don’t think you wanna start your morning off dealing with his attitude.

You swear Bucky Barnes might just be the most dramatic man you’ve ever met.

If one thought he was grumpy normally, they’d be entirely unprepared for him when he was woken up by anything or anyone other than himself or his alarm.

With the one exception of you, of course. More accurately: you working his cock.

Whether it was your hand, your mouth, your cunt, what have you - it was a surefire way to make sure he woke up on the right side of the bed.

But you really aren’t in the mood right now.

Instead, you begin to wiggle under his arm again, worming your way down the bed until finally, blessedly, you get free.

You exhale with a breathy laugh as you sit up on your haunches before looking over to Bucky again.

You can tell already that your absence from where he expects you to be beside him is disturbing him. His brows furrow and then his hand is searching for you among the mess of sheets.

You watch curiously as he pats around the bed before he finally blinks open his eyes and meets your gaze.

He scowls when he recognizes you sitting up across from him.

“Don’t start,” you say as you get off the bed, “in fact, don’t say a word. Just go back to sleep, princess.”

He growls, not nearly as loud as you know he’d like, with sleep still clinging to him.

“What the fuck did I say about you calling me princess,” he gruffs.

“Said not to, if I’m not mistaken. But I like doing it, so I’m not gonna stop.”

“Til I make you,” he vaguely threatens, his voice getting darker and more clear as he wakes up fully.

“Like to see you try,” you taunt as you make your way into the bathroom.

Bucky doesn’t scare you so much anymore. Though you’ve had to learn when to stop pushing. You’ve gotten pretty damn good at reading him. Knowing when he’s entirely serious and at his limit is something you can spot nearly right away now. Since that first night all those months ago, the only times you ignore the warnings are when you’re wanting what he’d given you the first time he had you. Something more rough than normal from him. Something purely carnal. Bordering on truly depraved.. And god, he’s never failed to deliver.

You know you’ve become complicit in this whole arrangement, but you’re starting to care less and less. What can you say? A powerful, beefy, hot as hell super soldier wants you. Chose you. He’s possessively protective over you, and problematic as that can be, you find it ridiculously attractive. And the sex if fucking amazing.

Sure, he can be a dick, but he’s been less of a dick to you. And you quite enjoy the way he now directs his annoyance and anger at those he knows irk you, too.

It's not like you don't fight or argue anymore, but it's almost always resolved quite.. nicely. Who are you to complain about that?

And god, the perks being with Bucky has come with.

You never really fed into the whole “fuck your way to the top” thing, but hey, here you were.

Getting better missions, nicer gear, getting more involved with the big leagues. And though you wouldn’t say it aloud, Bucky always having your back - during missions, in meetings, coming to your defense when someone would question your input - it was nice. Sometimes it was like he was your own personal guard dog.

And you loved the way people would shrink in on themselves, making themselves sparse when you and Bucky were around. You'd never admit it, but you guys were definitely a power couple around the tower. And you were thriving.

The attention, the opportunities, the sex. If you hadn't been blackmailed into this whole thing, you wouldn't have a solitary complaint.

You’re spitting out toothpaste and putting your toothbrush away as Bucky barges into the bathroom. You look up from the sink and shoot him an annoyed glance at the unnecessary disturbance.

“Really?” you ask as he grabs his own toothbrush from its spot.

“What?” he says. You roll your eyes and brush past him to start getting dressed.

“Put on your swimsuit,” he orders as he pauses his brushing to speak.

“Why?” you’re already annoyed knowing the answer. You guys have been here on this little summer getaway for two days now, both of which you’ve successfully managed to avoid getting in the water.

It wasn’t that you were scared or couldn’t swim, no, it was nothing like that.

It was that goddamn bathing suit.

The only bathing suit you had, thanks to Bucky who went into your bags after you’d finished packing and took your other two options out.

You’d swear it was skimpier than some of your lingerie.

“We’re going swimming,” he smirks, eyeing you hungrily.

You turn with another roll of your eyes and head to the drawer that holds your swimming wear. You throw Bucky’s trunks on the bed without care and grab your suit without looking at it.

You lean in the doorway of the bathroom as Bucky washes his face off, scowling.

“Can’t we get breakfast first?”

“You can get breakfast while wearing it.”

“You get off on humiliating me, that’s it, isn’t it?”

He barks a laugh as he turns to face you, “You think this is me trying to humiliate you?”

You don’t respond as you keep your face stoic. He approaches and his large hands come around your neck, cradling the back of your head as he pulls your face closer to his. He crashes his lips to yours, the minty feel still lingering as he licks into your mouth, pushing you against the wall as he backs you up, his hands keeping your head from hitting it. You return his fervent kiss, your hands coming up to hold his forearms, despite your annoyance before he pulls away suddenly and leaves you wanting.

You lick your lips as you catch your breath and meet his eye.

“If I wanted to humiliate you, sweetheart, you’d know.”

—

When you’re both done getting ready for the day, you having taken your sweet time to get into the bathing suit, you slowly open the bathroom door you had shut and locked behind you nearly fifteen minutes ago.

You’re overly aware of your belly and the jiggle of your ass and thighs with each step you take.

You hate this swimsuit and you swear you’d burn it if you weren’t sure he’d take you skinny dipping should it mysteriously disappear.

The growl that emanates from Bucky when he sees you genuinely startles you and when his big hands grab you by the waist, you feel that familiar heat growing deep within you.

His hands move down to grab your ass, kneading the ample flesh he finds there as you push against him.

Your breasts are nearly spilling out of the too small cups and though the band of the thong-like bottoms can be pulled to sit high on your hips, it really does nothing to hide or cover your stomach the way you’d like. And the tropical blue color brings too much attention.

It’s not that you’re self conscious, though you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a bit, it’s just way too revealing for you. You hate that everyone will get to see parts of you you don’t like showing. You feel like you’re giving away parts of your privacy.

But you know Bucky doesn’t care.

As long as he’s the only one who gets to touch you, he’d happily let the world feast their eyes on you like this, show them what they’ll never have.

“This is ridiculous,” you complain for the tenth time.

“You look fuckin’ sexy,” he purrs, letting his hands run back up your body.

“Ugh,” you groan as you push him again, swiping your towel off the bed and slipping on your slides as you pass him and leave the room.

You can feel his eyes on you as he follows behind, his gaze seemingly glued to your body.

You walk downstairs quietly, still unsurprised to find no one else up. Everyone else had stayed up well into the early hours of the morning last night, drinking and chatting, playing stupid games. You and Bucky had been taking part until around midnight when he decided he was done keeping his hands to himself. He took you back to your room upstairs where you both stayed the rest of the night while the party continued on downstairs. You were grateful the loud chatting seemed to drown out your and Bucky’s moans.

You threw your things in an empty bag Nat had left on the table and then followed Bucky into the kitchen to make a quick breakfast.

You were hoping you could get out and into the lake before anyone could see you, so you hurriedly toasted some bread and sliced an avocado while Bucky made eggs. You threw everything together on a paper plate, leaving the used pan on the stove and had Bucky get water while you seasoned the food.

You had the plate in one hand and your bag in the other as Bucky carried the cooler with drinks out behind you.

It was only nine and yet the heat was already sweltering.

The perks of being at a lake house, though, is you don’t have to go far to get to the lake.

The setup from yesterday and the day before was still there as you set your stuff down in one of the big wooden loungers and then put the food down on the long table. The dock was just behind and to the right of you as you sat on the wooden bench attached to the table.

Bucky set the cooler down at the end of the table before taking a seat across from you on the opposite bench.

“You were quick to come out here.”

“Yeah, I’m praying no one sees me in this atrocity,” you say as you pick up your toast and take a bite.

He scoffs before grabbing his own piece.

You both eat fairly quickly, having been hungry from your late night activities, and soon you’re watching as Bucky strips off his tank top.

He grabs your towels and the sunscreen, handing the bottle to you and expecting you to follow him as he walks onto the dock.

You do so after taking another drink of your water and forcing yourself up.

He sits on the edge of the dock, his legs in the clear blue water as he waits for you, the towels thrown down haphazardly, ready for you to use them when you’re done swimming.

You move to sit behind him, opening the bottle and squeezing some sunscreen into your hands.

You rub it between your hands for a second before you start to apply it to Bucky’s back.

More and more until you’ve got him covered, massaging his tense muscles as you do. The groans that slip past his lips let you know he’s enjoying it.

You apply more to your hands as you run them over his shoulders and down his chest. You’re pressed right up against his back as you work. The lower your hands slip, the deeper his groans. You smile to yourself and slip one hand past the band of his trunks teasingly, running gently across the top of his pelvis before you pull away and start to work on his right arm.

“There, you’re all done,” you say as you let your hands run down his solid back once more.

You move back and Bucky brings his legs out of the water as he turns to you.

“You’re not.”

He pushes you to lay down on your towel as he moves to straddle you, the water still on his legs sending shivers across your skin.

He grabs the sunscreen and starts to deliver the same attention to you.

He’s obsessed with touching you. Your softness is his favorite thing, and as he applies the sunscreen to your exposed torso, he really takes his time feeling you, enjoying the goosebumps that raise, the tickles and shivers you try to hide. He runs his hands all over you. You’ve closed your eyes as the sun was shining in them and gasp when you feel Bucky’s hands on your breasts, squeezing them before you feel his lips on you, too. You can’t help the moan that leaves you under his attention.

“Turn over,” he says firmly and headily.

You don’t even think to not listen.

He gets more sunscreen as he covers your backsides, rubbing it in with perfect pressure. Another moan slips as he squeezes your neck with one hand, the other trailing down your spine.

And when he’s done, his fingers move to easily undo the string holding your top together, running his hands up and down your back before he leans further down and starts kissing your bare skin.

“Bucky,” you whine, stopping yourself from sitting up knowing your chest will be on complete display.

“Everyone’s sleeping, no one’s gonna see.”

You want to argue, but you can’t bring yourself to. Even if you did, he always gets his way in the end.

You feel him move the flimsy fabric covering you and you really are moving out of thoughtless desire as you bend your knees and hips up slightly before he starts prodding you with his fingers, your wetness evident as your cunt glistens.

You groan as he slips two thick digits into you, pumping his fingers in and out, curling them just right.

“Fuck,” you whimper under your breath.

You’re so lost in his touch you don’t expect it when his fingers move to part your folds open, your slick hole on display for him as he wastes no time and pushes into you with his aching cock.

You moan into the towel beneath you as he stretches your pussy.

The position is unexpectedly delightful as he hits you deeper and deeper with his every thrust.

You swear you could cry with how fucking good it feels.

“You like that baby?” he pants, “Like having this big dick inside your tight fucking pussy.”

A cry leaves you as you nod your head emphatically.

His speed picks up as his words get dirtier and you get closer and closer to the orgasm you can feel building.

You’re both sweating, Bucky more than you, as you fist the towel and groan loudly through grit teeth.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you’re aware anyone could come out at anytime and see, but you don’t have the will to care as Bucky keeps fucking into you, his hands tight on your hips as he uses you. Another hard thrust has you careening over the edge, moans and mewls leaving your lips as your toes curl and your walls squeeze his thick cock as you come.

Bucky doesn’t let up as he fucks you through it, hips pummeling against your ass over and over until he growls deep in his chest, his hips twitching as he let’s himself go inside you. His grunts and moans fill your ears until he eventually slows completely and pulls out, slapping your ass as he gets up.

You lay there, trying to catch your breath from a moment before you fix your bottoms and roll over, holding your top together.

“I fuckin’ hate you,” you breathe heavily.

He laughs to himself at your words as you slowly get up. He takes his time adjusting himself in his trunks before he turns on you, grabbing your face and tilting your head up in his direction. He leans down and brushes his stubbly cheek against your soft one as he speaks in your ear, “I know you fuckin’ wish you did.”

He keeps his hold on you as he turns his face and takes your lips hotly in his own. He walks you back. And back. And then grabs your loose top from your hands as you gasp, allowing his tongue to slip past your lips. He moves his hand to grab your ass as he holds you against him, your full breasts pressing against his built chest.

He walks you back once more, smiling wickedly into the kiss. Then suddenly your stomach drops as your eyes shoot open when you feel your feet leave the dock. You're under water in a second and quickly swim back up to break the surface, a scowl etched across your face as you struggle to get your breathing back.

Before you can say anything, Bucky joins you in the water, jumping in and splashing you as he does.

You fight the urge to try and hold him down as you swim to the ladder and blindly search the deck for your top. It may be skimpy, but it’s better than nothing.

Bucky’s arms circle you as he pulls you back before his large palm crawls up your chest to cup your breast. Squeezing your flesh before he starts thumbing and tweaking your nipple.

You hate that your body reacts so fucking quickly to him as you feel yourself getting horny all over again. His lips are on your neck as your ass is against him. Your eyes close as a soft moan falls from you when he moves his attention to your other breast.

The creaking of the deck has your eyes shooting open as you attempt to cover your chest. You see Steve walking up, his chest gleaming with sweat as his running shirt is held in his hands.

You want to just let yourself sink under the water but Bucky’s hold on you doesn’t loosen for a second, in fact it only grows tighter, more possessive the closer Steve gets.

“Morning, lovebirds,” Steve greets with a smirk.

You know Bucky won’t let you go so instead of struggling and bringing attention to your nakedness, you grab his hand under the water and pull his arm across your chest as you hold him there.

Bucky wears a smirk of his own as he palms your tit and feels your body’s instant reaction.

“Hey,” Bucky replies, squeezing your breast again knowingly.

Your eyes widen when you see the twitch in Steve’s shorts, his prominent bulge growing as he stares down at you two.

You risk peering up at him and meet his eye instantly as you do. You swallow thickly as you look back down, trying to keep your composure. You know he can see everything, but as long as no one acknowledges that out loud, you can at least pretend that he can’t.

And then, of course, Bucky speaks again.

“So, you enjoy the show, pal?”

[dreamscapesofimagination]

Let Me Give You My Life

A/N: I'm so proud of this tbh pls love it. Posts may slow down (more lol). I’m studying for the GRE, and how well I do determines if I can get into the masters program I want to do, which then determines getting into medical school. I love the support I’ve been getting- likes, reblogs (seeing yalls tags on the reblogs makes me smile like a fool!) yall are the best!

Warnings: Cursing, Angst? Mams is insecure and possessive af but man does he ADORE you, confessions- Asmo and Lucifer are sick of y'all.

Summary: Diavolo throws a ball to celebrate some event that Mammon honestly couldn’t remember- especially not when he saw you.

—-----------

This was annoying.

Mammon had had plans tonight- a job. Sure, it was some low-budget modeling shoot for what were some hideous clothes, but still. It was going to pay well (way better than the clothes were worth, but thats because they wanted the Mammon- not some random, low-life demon)

And yet, here he was at this lame-ass ball Diavolo was throwing- commemorating some sort of success that Mammon frankly didn’t care about. Lucifer had made the attendance of the Student Council mandatory- threatening to hog-tie anyone who didn’t attend and leave them for Cerberus to toy with.

Mammon suppressed a shiver at the memory of the last time he had been subjected to that punishment. It had taken four showers and a bath to get all of the damned drool off of him- and he had needed to completely throw out his clothes.

Bastard. He glared at the back of Lucifer’s head, the elder across the room, deep in conversation with Barbatos.

Attendance was mandatory.

So where the hell was Asmo- and more importantly where the hell were you?

An ugly feeling reared its head in his chest as he thought of you sneaking around with his younger brother. Why would you be with Asmo, and not the Great Mammon?

“You know, glaring at him isn’t going to make his head explode,” Satan’s dry voice sounded from next to him, and Mammon shot a glance at the blonde demon.

“Maybe he’ll get the hint that making this mandatory was stupid. Does he not understand that some of us have better things to do?” Mammon griped.

Satan scoffed, “Sure, better to hustle money for debts you have no intention of paying back.”

Mammon’s frown deepened at his brother’s words. It never hurt less to hear how little his brothers thought of him- as if somehow his sin being greed made him lower than them. As if Asmo wouldn’t fuck anything that breathed near him, as if Beel hadn’t wreaked havoc due to his damn stomach, and as if Lucifer hadn’t damn near killed you due to his pride. Yet Mammon was somehow beneath them because he liked money and things? Bullshit.

He opened his mouth to shoot back a scathing retort about how actually he was going to use the money from the shoot to buy you the necklace that he had seen you eyeing at the jewelry store everytime he dragged you past it- but the gasps around the room pulled his attention to the staircase, and his jaw dropped.

Oh, you looked expensive. A shimmering gold dress clung to your form in all the right places (though you didn’t have any wrong places, a fact that Mammon would never say out loud).

Your thick thigh flashed from the dangerously high slit with every step down the staircase. He was faintly aware of Asmo behind you, but he knew that the attention of the room was on you, and not the demon of Lust.

That ugly feeling reared its head again when he saw Lucifer approach you, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand- no doubt with a stupid smirk on his face.

Mammon recognized the feeling, and it was much more in line with Levi’s sin than his own.

You shone more than the piles of Grimm in the bank vaults- and Mammon wanted nothing more than to steal you away and horde you to himself, like a dragon in the fantasy books you would ramble to him about. The dragons were the biggest thing he remembered, too lost in the sound of your voice to really process anything else. Besides, you said that his horns and wings reminded you of the dragons- something you had said with such a sweet voice that it was all he could do to not swoop in and kiss you.

And yet Lucifer was taking you to the dance floor, one hand wrapped around your waist.

Satan said something, but the blood rushing in Mammon’s ears muffled the sound, and when he received no response, Satan rolled his eyes and left.

Mammon wanted to approach you, steal you away from that smug bastard. But he didn’t, unable to summon the courage. Because if he did, then you would question him. If you questioned him, he would say the wrong thing- or worse, confess and face rejection from the one person in all the realms who has never looked at him with disdain.

Instead, he watched from the sidelines, snatching a flute of some sort of champagne off a waiters tray, downing it in a gulp.

After the song ended, you smiled brightly at Lucifer- a smile that should have been directed at Mammon. He watched you leave the ballroom, going out to the balcony.

“You planning on making a move? If not I’ll go see if she needs any company- after all she does look stunning in the dress I picked out,” Mammon’s gaze snapped to Asmo, whom he fixed with a glare.

“You keep your damn paws off of her- she’s my human,” he snarled. Amusement sparkled in Asmo’s eyes, and the younger laughed, “You’re lucky she only has eyes for you.”

Now that made Mammon stutter.

“Whaddya talking about?” he demanded.

Feigning ignorance, Asmo said, “maybe you should just go talk to her and stop being a moron- honestly, I love romance but at this point it is nauseating to see you two dance around each other.” With that, Asmo flounced off to chatter to some lower demon.

Mammon hated to admit it, but Asmo had piqued his interest.

Almost without his knowledge, his legs took him across the room, and he entered the balcony, carefully shutting the door behind him.

And you stole his breath away again, bathed in the faint light spilling through the windows, looking up at the stars.

You looked over your shoulder, flashing him a heart-stopping smile, “Mams! I was wondering when you were gonna come see me. The party isn’t as fun if I’m not with you.”

His cheeks burned at your words.

“We-well, I didn’t want to interrupt your dance with Lucifer,” he all but spat the Avatar of Prides name.

You giggled, “what? Are you jealous?”

Mammon rapidly shook his head, jamming his hands into his pockets as you turned to face him, leaning back on the railing.

His eyes shamelessly flitted over your form, and he imagined himself tearing into your soft flesh, burrowing a home inside your flesh where neither of you would know where one ended and the other began.

You raised an eyebrow, “You sure? I mean, I’d rather have danced with the Great Mammon, but he was too busy glaring daggers at his brother to make a move.”

You pushed off the railing, carefully approaching Mammon, who felt himself freeze in place.

All he could do was watch you, heart hammering in his chest as you wrapped your arms around his neck- and damn your height because this provided Mammon a particularly entrancing view of the pendant nestled in your cleavage- the necklace he had wanted to buy you.

He dragged his eyes back to your face, seeing amusement in your sweet gaze.

“Lucifer said it was from you,” He watched your plump lips move.

He shook his head, mumbling, “Was gonna get it for you with the pay from the gig I had lined up.”

The fact that Lucifer had gotten to it before him caused a pit in his stomach- why would you choose Mammon if you could choose his responsible, reliable older brother?

“You’re so sweet, Mams. Thank you.”

His face burned- him? Sweet?

Your soft gaze was akin to a siren song, and it was all he could do to not fall into you.

Tilting your head, you spoke with a rosy blush on your round cheeks, “Mammon,” he would do anything to hear his name fall from your lips again, “I waited for you to say something, but I don’t want to wait any more. I want to be with you. I’ve never met anyone who makes me feel like you do. I just need to know if you feel the same. If you don’t we can just go back to being friends and I’ll never bring it up again-” you were cut off when he surged forward, lips slamming against yours as his hands settled on the swell of your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he pulled you close. He swallowed down the noise of surprise that left you, relishing the feeling of you melting into him.

He didn’t know how to avoid saying the wrong thing- but he could act.

You were the sweetest thing he had ever tasted- and he would fall from Grace a million times over if this is where he ended up. You, pressed against him, hands tangling in his white hair as your lips melded together, his hands digging into your softness, melting together until you were one.

The two of you broke away, and Mammon was sure you were an angel when he took in your flushed cheeks, kiss-swollen lips, and dazed eyes.

He pressed his forehead to yours, chest heaving as he sucked in the air- air he would be happy to never breathe again if it meant he never had to stop kissing you.

“I’m yours- have been since you first showed up.” his words were whispered, hands coming up to cradle your face, falling into your lips again- greedy for more, more kisses, more closeness, more you.

He would trade all the Grimm in the Devildom to keep you close- if he was a dragon from your fairytales then you were the treasure he would horde.

[141trash]

Breaking Point pt 2

Read part one here

AN: Thank you so much for all the love on the first part! I had such a hard time writing this, mostly because I don't really know how to write scenes like this... So after multiple failed attempts I sort of copped out on the violence? I'm workin hard on part 3 pls let me know how you liked part 2

The first punch went straight into his gut, knocking the wind out of him. You let out a fearful squeak, squeezing your eyes shut and turning your head away.

"No, no." the man scolded mockingly, "Don't look away princess. Don't want you missing the show."

A hand grasped your hair roughly, pulling your head back sharply to an upright position and earning a startled yelp. He smirked, settling on the chair one of the other guards had brought in for him and forced you to sit at his feet, directly in front of Simon.

"Oi. Leave 'er alone. Your problem is with me yeah?" Simon lurched forward, but was yanked back by the guards and forced to his knees.

The grip on your hair tightened, causing you to whimper.

"Correct. My problem is with you." He leaned his face down next to yours, using his free hand to caress your cheek, "But this is a learning experience and we have to explore every angle."

You glowered at him, wrenching your jaw from his grip and in a brief moment of foolish bravery, spat in his face. Rage fluttered over his face, splotchy patches of red coloring his cheeks and neck.

"You would do well to watch yourself." he told you stiffly, "I might break my own rules, just to watch you suffer."

"You're a fucking freak!" you shouted back, "I don't know who you are! I don't know what you want. Just let me go."

Simon watched you thrash, trying desperately to get free. A flutter of protectiveness washed over him seeing the heavy set man looming over you. Even if you were working with them, which he was beginning to think you weren't, this sort of treatment wasn't something anyone deserved.

By the time they finally left, you'd screamed and cried yourself hoarse. Begging and pleading for them to s top as they forced you to watch the interrogation. Well it was less of an interrogation and more turning a man into a human punching bag.

All the while, the firm grip on your hair had forced you to continue watching, pulling you back every time you turned your head away. The slimy voice of the man who was clearly the boss, speaking directly in your ear, reminding you mockingly to keep your eyes open.

They left you shivering and cowering on the floor, not daring to move towards the lieutenant until the door had swung shut and the footsteps had faded away.

"I'm sorry." You whispered when the two of you were alone. Snot and tears dried on your face from having to endure watching a man get the life beaten out of him in front of you. He was slumped clutching his middle with one arm.

"S' not your fault." He grimaced, pushing himself up to lean against the wall for support.

He was hard to look at if you were being honest. One of his eyes would likely be swollen shut in a few hours, and there was a trickle of blood where one of the guards had split the skin just below his eyebrow. It wasn't like you'd never seen violence before. But action movies, and witnessing the occasional drunken street fight were nothing like this. The horrifying unrelenting sound of fists hitting skin, coupled with the muffled grunts of pain had left you nauseous.

"I know you from somewhere?" Simon broke you out of your thoughts. He was eyeing you again, studying you for any connection you two might have.

Unfortunately as unfamiliar as you were to him, he was to you as well.

Shaking your head you replied, "I don't think so. I don't recognize you."

He snorted a laugh, " 've usually got m' face covered up."

"What? Like. Like a mask?" Your face scrunched as you tried to picture it, "What are you some sort of superhero?"

Simon scoffed at the assumption and then let out a low groan, slumping further into himself. Fuck what were you supposed to do? The last time you'd taken first aid courses it'd been as a teenager so you could apply to be a camp counselor. You doubted those skills would be useful here anyways.

"I don't," you crawled over to sit next to him gulping nervously, "I don't know what to do. Please tell me how to help you."

"Save your strength. There's nothing either of us can do right now. My team will have noticed I'm gone by now. Likely they're on their way to find me."

You didn't know why, but the words were so reassuring. Especially considering he was a literal stranger. But looking him over, even though he was beaten bloody you felt hopeful. From his large muscular frame, to the faint scars that littered his visible skin, he felt like someone with experience.

"That man. He called you Lieutenant." You began hesitantly, "You're military?"

"I am. Can call me Ghost."

"Ghost." You repeated, raising your eyebrows. He took in your unimpressed expression and glared almost playfully at you.

"Yeah, Ghost."

"Whatever you say Lieutenant."

Taglist: @teehee-47, @bleuu-moon (cant remember if you wanted to be tagged so sorry if you didnt ^^;)

[tojigasm]

SAM PLS FEED US MORE JAKE ANGST💘

I was a little evil with this one, I admit 👩‍💻

Sometimes it's still vivid in his memory. How cold it was that day, the ash, and harbored screams. He could remember how hard it was to breathe through the thick chunks of grey that littered the forest and how raw his hands and wrists felt. Had Pandora ever had a cold day? He can't recall.

Neytiri doesn't come to him in times like this. Where he sits by the stacked forest flowers and pretty stones that you'd collected. She knows na'vi and human grief is settled differently in some, Jake is one of them.

You're still there, in his memory. He can make out your pretty smile and hair, the shape of your lips when you talk – though he can't hear your voice. He'd forgotten the sound of it some time ago.

In the past several days he finds your face foggy, clouded by blurs and features he can't quite make out in the midst of his memory.

Hes terrified of losing you again.

He still remembers how you were laughing and smiling right before the troops showed up and how quickly that changed everything.

The two of you had gotten separated when Eytukan and Mo'at had tied he and Grace up. Forced to watch you and Neytiri run into the forest in pure horror of your mate.

And he still remembers the way Neytiri looked at him in fear when he'd found her. Asking where you were.

You were so cold in his arms, a bloodied wound sunken deep into your side, your skin turned a shade of purple almost. You had died alone and cold and afraid. Without your mates and anyone to soothe you.

Jake doesn't think he's ever cried harder than when he lost you. He and Neytiri had sat with your body for hours, hoping maybe it was a shock spell and you'd wake up and he could get you to Norm and the healers.

You didn't wake up.

He hasn't seen you in the spirit of Eywa. The thought of seeing you so close and so far away might ruin him. Though he knows you must miss him, especially when all who visits is Neytiri.

So it's on a whim, when Neytiri and the kids have gone to sleep that he goes to the spirit tree. Stroking his hands over the delicate branches and letting himself bask in the gentle air.

When he does connect, he sees you. Not the foggy memory he's made, but you.

He recognizes this memory. The sounds of the creak and the cooes of animals in the forest. It was the day you'd found out you were pregnant.

Your giggles are what draw him in, pulling him to kneel beside your seated form.

"Jake!" You squeal when you notice him, wrapping your arms around him, "Where have you been? I have something exciting to tell you!"

Jake tears at that, stroking a hand down your soft back, "m'sorry, kid. I've been busy." He pulls away to cup your cheeks in his hands.

"Oh... well that's okay," you're back to smiling, holding your small hands over his large ones, "why're you crying?"

Jake shakes his head for you to continue and you do, but not with out the signature eyebrow raise you'd give him whenever you'd think something was off.

It makes him chuckle momentarily, softening in the warmth of you, "you gonna tell me what's so exciting or am I gonna have to wait ti'll I'm fifty?" He jokes and you giggle, pulling one of his hands off of your cheek to rest on your tummy.

"M'pregnant." You look up at him so excitedly he feels his throat hitch with a sob. You were so happy and you had it ripped away from you only a few days after.

"you are?" He struggles and he knows you can tell. He blinks hot tears that roll over his striped cheeks and his hand shakes beneath yours.

"Are you okay–"

He cuts you off by pulling you into his arms, holding your heart over his own to hear it beat once more. Settling to keep you as close as he can before he has to leave. He feels you relax under him, pressing kisses to his skin.

Jake holds you like that for a while longer before pulling away and looking you over. Stroking his hands over your cheeks, he kisses the top of your head.

"Be good while m'gone, m'kay?" He keeps his hand on your chin and you nod with that pretty little smile. And he can't help but kiss you once more, whispering "that's my sweet girl." before he's disconnected from you and left in the cool forest again.

He doesn't go back to the tree of Eywa for a while after that and he doesn't tell Neytiri. Though a part of him thinks she knows. Knows in the way she's more gentle with him, she's more relaxed about pushing him to go see you.

He settles on your memory again, thinking of you in small moments and letting the soft memory of your lips settle him.

And it's not until Jake and Neytiri pack and leave for the Metkayina that he wonders if he'll see you again and when a sinking feeling settles into his stomach it's that he realizes he probably won't.

[outofmydepthatapublicbeach]

hiii can u write julien x reader where julien has a crush on reader? like maybe reader is maybe a singer at the grammys and catches juliens eye

pls pls and thank u

jj chats: hiii!! i love this idea so so much and i am so happy i got to write it!!! i decided to do some headcannons and a bit of a blurb! but its mostly tailored to this specific scenario so if anyone wants a more general julien with a crush headcannons i can totally write that! just lmk!! also tysm for the request dear ilysm <333

warnings: RPF, no use of y/n, julien is very awkward!!!

feedback is encouraged and i'd love to get some just please be kind!!!

So lets say that Julien is aware of who you are, she knows your music, but never knew your face. She was crazy excited about you performing at the grammys.

She’s at the table when your name gets announced along with the 2 tracks you are playing and she immediately recognizes them.

She gets all giddy because she’s never seen you before and is excited for your set.

You play a mash up of two ballads where your vocals are incredible, your standing center stage. (I’m kind of picturing it to look like Olivia Rodgrigo’s set at the grammys)

Whatever outfit you’re wearing is a beautiful mix of emerald green and gold. Your dress/suit/whatever you are wearing has a very flowy vibe to it.

Anyway Julien sees you as the spotlight shines on you and her heart stops. You were more beautiful than she had ever thought. 

Then you open your mouth to sing and it's like a kaleidoscope of butterflies was released in her stomach.

Phoebe notices her awestruck state and whispers to Lucy.

Yk they made a plan to make sure you met that night.

When your performance ends you smile towards the crowd of brilliant musicians, lyricists and producers. The room erupts in cheers and applause, your head gets a little light as you take everything in. Everything that you’ve worked for has come to this, and you’ve finally made it, singing in a room full of all your biggest idols.

When the stage darkens, a crew member meets you and takes you back to a dressing room, helping you get back into your original grammy outfit. As you walk back to your seat you spot a woman with platinum blond hair in a white suit standing near your table, seemingly waiting for someone.

As you approach her you get a better look at who she was. Exclaiming “Phoebe!! I’m so glad to see you!” You pull her into a hug.

Pulling away, Phoebe replies “Hey dude! It’s been so long!”

“Way too long! Oh congrats on you and the boys wins tonight! I’m so happy for y’all!” You smile, then noticing the other two that make up Boygenius approach, Lucy Dacus and Julien Baker. Lucy introduces herself and Julien, Julien stands squashed between Lucy and Phoebe. She smiles at you shyly, a light pink flushes her face. 

“Your performance was out of this world, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you sing like that! Isn’t that right Julien?” Phoebe asks, nudging her bandmate with her elbow.

Julien sputters a little bit before replying “Your voice is so pretty.” Once the words leave her mouth her eyes widen a bit, as if she can’t believe she just said that. Phoebe and Lucy share a look before Phoebe moves to squeeze your upper arm.

“Me and Luce are gonna go mingle, have fun kids,” She turns away from you but you can almost swear you saw her wink at Julien before walking away. 

“I don’t think I’ve never formally introduced myself, I’m-”

“I know you,” Julien cuts you off, horror fills her face at her ill choice of words, “I mean I don’t know-know you, but I know of you! I like you! Fuck I mean I like your music, its really good! And your voice is amazing. It's so pretty! I’m rambling aren’t I?” The tattooed woman sighs, her face flushing again, this time a much brighter red.

“Yes, yes you are. But it's okay Julien, it's cute.” You giggle, reaching towards your purse to pull out your phone, pulling up messages. “Can I have your number, I’d love to talk to you longer but I gotta go visit someone before we have to be back in out seats. Maybe we could get coffee sometime and talk?” You hand the phone to Julien, gently placing it in her open palms.

“Really?” she waits for you to nod before putting her number in, hands shaking as she types.  “Thank you! And best of luck to you tonight! Hopefully I’ll see you around.” Julien says. You smile and grab Julien’s hand, squeezing it lightly. Once you let go she's off towards her table again. 

I could totally see Julien being so nervous around you that she types in her number wrong. So wehn you get home and call her and some random 39 year old guy from Alabama replies you are taken a little off guard.

But it's all fixed when you text Phoebe explaining the situation. 

Phoebe def made fun of Julien for that all the time now.

[sunnysideaeggs]

uuuuh okay thoughts about S2E1 (disclaimer: SPOILERS! and some unpopular opinions bc i WILL be criticizing alicent). most of these i had during my watch yesterday, and now i’m elaborating on them after more thinking about it. looooong post ahead

okay i liked the new intro. i will miss the blood pouring but i think the tapestries are a more visual way to convey targaryen history.

my favorite parts were the shot of vhagar and balerion in the field of fire(? idk they were eating men (green dragon black dragon !!!), the jaehaerys and alysanne portrait, alicent and rhaenyra and aegon and rhaenyra crowned side by side. beautiful.

also, the blood beneath the thread !!! targaryen history is written in blood. never forget this.

i dont particularly like jace being at the wall. it makes little sense to me, especially because the north is massive and i don’t think that cregan would like to make a procession to the wall just because a prince is there. i liked the tidbits though: jon going to the watch is a tradition he followed unknowingly :)

show me more political jace please, he’s cool.

‘surely torrhen would’ve rather died instead of bending the knee unless he believed aegon could bring unity to the 7K’ jace pls 💀

it’s funny that in one scene rhaenys and daemon had more tension and chemistry than all the scenes of daemon with adult rhaenyra. maybe what he needs is a GILF to put him in his place? lmao

LAENA MENTION LETS GOOOOO

‘make it a son for a son’ referring to aemond? alicent has no bone to pick here be fr i can smell bleach for the whitewashing a mile away

i also have issue with the writers’ choice of making rhaenyra ignore her physical needs and spend apparently days riding on dragon back and doing jumps and that when she just had a miscarriage. it’s canon that she was in bed rest for half a year because the loss of visenya took a toll on her body. it will be dumb and criticized if she’s fine to disappear for weeks but not to fight.

alyn velaryon? ok i’m mad bc corlys literally knows this dude is his son ???

i love how we all pretend that corlys and rhaenys were particularly interested in the strong boys. idk i can’t really care about that anymore

ow is helaena sewing alicent a dress? please tell me it’s not a shroud

AEGON APPEARED WOOO 🍳✨

‘where’s jaehaerys? where are his lessons?’ my man doesn’t know to what school his kids go lol

also he can recognize the twins apart with only seeing them :)✨ cute

aegon wanted jaehaerys in his council !!!! he’s making sure jae KNOWS he’s his heir and he’s on aegon’s mind

oh hel is comfortable enough with him to tell him about her prophecies, i’m just afraid that no one understand her

‘the rats’ NOOOOO

aegon is always like ‘😐❔’ around her lol

‘the queen is an enduring mystery’ he’s a poet i love him

alicole pussyeating but at what cost

why does criston has that empty look in his eyes, he had the same look in his scene with rhaenyra

where is all the raw emotion between them from last season? it’s giving cersei and lancel when it should be cersei and jaime. no deep gazes, no catholic guilt, something’s amiss

jaehaerys and egg </3 my feels they’re so cute

okay i have a bone to pick here because why is tyland being treated like a joke? i can get past jaehaerys toying with him because he’s a child, but aegon respected his allies (that’s a big part about him) and would never antagonize them in that way. it’s given rhaenyra and lady redwyne when we know both characters differ the most in the way they treat their subjects.

also, this is TYLAND LANNISTER, the most employed guy ever. he literally put his skin on the fire for his team, he’s loyal and he’s the best ally the greens could’ve asked for. if anyone is to thank for the death of the dragons, it’s him. put some respect on his name because this is the finance bro to end all finance bros.

also he’s always saying important things: the treasure in the green council, jason’s moves here. please listen to him!

another thing i dislike is the way important political moves are being brushed off. the treasure is a big big matter. it should be said explicitly what the council is doing about it being the focus of the scene. i’m sure most casual viewers didn’t catch that the comedic relief is making big money moves that will backfire later.

but anyways jaehaerys is so cute hehe

happy father’s day to aegon targaryen and aegon targaryen only

okay i’m rewatching the jaehaerys and tyland scene and i love tyland’s accent, and how polite he is to the little prince

go aemond in the council !!!

‘you do not have a seat in this council’ okay alicent please stfu. i disliked her demeanor since she was chastising aegon and tyland but this is too much. remember you do not have a seat either.

and no she doesn’t: she’s queen mother, not queen regent. aegon is an able adult and can rule without her help. i know the only council we had was with cersei but that’s because joffrey and tommen were under westeros’ age of majority. that alicent is there is out of aegon’s kindness and the council members’ respect.

also why would she be mad that the brothers are brothering ??? girl you wanted them to be on each other’s side

SUNFYRE MENTION LETS GOOOO

‘we must proceed cautiously’ i think all caution must be thrown overboard here. i know they want to portray A/R as the ‘voices of reason’ being pushed to war and all but sometimes violence is necessary to prevent more violence. what tywin said about murdering a dozen people in a dinner and a thousand in battle.

i’m tired of this aemond slander. he did it, but he’s innocent your grace

why larys kinda…

ok i love his voice

oh so now every move of alicent is seen by larys. she knows that he knows. neat.

why do the handmaidens wear green? they should wear gold ☀️

okay i initially thought syrax was sunfyre because of the pink of his wings. i hope sunfyre is golden smh

it’s neat that we remember than no matter what side we’re on, for the common people dragons are a source of fear and caution. the fishermen are loyal to rhaenyra yet they will run away from her when she’s on syrax because they don’t trust a dragon.

rhaenyra’s pain is so deep, i really empathized with her. absolutely devastating. her expression, her grabbing the cape, everything

emma is so fucking talented for real, making me feel for the death of a character i dislike

(oh how the mourning of a woman for her child will cause thousands of mothers mourning their children the same)

‘aegon the magnanimous’ when your homie gives you a ridiculous nickname

my boy sits and listens to his subjects, calls them by their names and tells them not to be afraid. hello jerard what can i do 4 u? :)

i love how egg is like ‘yea whatever take ur sheep jerard pls like me’

okay i dislike otto here. aegon is obviously into crowd pleasing (a secret tool that will be useful later) and for once it’s okay. jerard will go home with his sheep and be a diehard aegon supporter and raise his kids to be the same, tell his friends about the king’s generosity. i think otto should know better than to angry the population in time of war, even if you can’t make the flock whole, give the man grain or coin so he can feed his family and the effort of going to the king’s house.

hugh? like hugh hammer? ooooh

‘our victory depends on the efforts of the smallfolk’ close enough welcome back princess diana

another otto slander moment here. i don’t think it’s wise to chastise the king (an adult, mind you) and putting himself in between of aegon and the court like that. did we saw otto with viserys? he sat by his side and whispered his advice in a discreet manner. he didn’t try and strongarmed his king in front of dozens of people. that’s not a smart way of doing things. it’s called soft power for a reason

also, i think the directors were trying to make otto parallel tywin in that joffrey in the throne scene, but tywin was explicitly trying to get joffrey to be more involved in the council and the two were alone. give it to aegon, let him have his fun in public and manipulate him in private, that is the way. doing dumb shit like that only makes aegon look like a kid and otto like a shameless powergrabbing dude

one thing i appreciate is that aegon has his own court. he has his lads-in-waiting, he has a few ladies following behind, and that’s how a king should be. we always saw the royal kids isolated (joff, tommen, rhaenyra only had alicent) when in reality most important people will have a flock of people accompanying them every day.

now that’s what i’m talking about. larys is all about being subtle, honey trapping his way to power. that’s how the game of thrones is played. while aegon will not agree with him just like that (because larys gives him the oogies), i’m sure he will remember larys’ words.

‘as viserys wished’ oh don’t speak of him fuck what he wants

an ally would not sit there and cut her legs at the table of men? girl you do that yourself

alicent, the problem is not otto undermining you, is both of you yapping about shit aegon and aemond not care about and winning empty victories lol

aegon will probably forget about jerard next episode, but will not forget feeling his wings being cut by otto. aemond remained in the council room but will remember alicent wanting him gone.

i wish alicent and otto believed more on their kids/grandkids

mysaria apparition yay

‘you speak of highborn games, i am common born’ tell him girl

daemon don’t put your hands on women challenge: impossible

chemistry with mysaria? uuuuh

i love how everyone reminds erryk of arryk like ‘ayo where ur bro at?’ a matching set is not matching, it’s giving the parent trap

‘i want aemond targaryen’ okay at least she knows who to blame. i want to see more of vengeful rhaenyra, let women be mad

daemon going for aemond instead of for jaehaerys is such a cheap move smh, whitewashing at its finest

jaecarys and rhaenyra :(

is it too insensitive to say that jace’s hair looks great? you’re serving cunt? your brother just died and you’re serving cunt?

ow alerie florent :((((

FUCK VISERYS TARGARYEN

i really like the symbolic funeral. that shot of rhaena crying over the fire? chills

is it me or they changed joffrey’s actor? idk

uuuuh alicent idk if that’s empathy or weakness 🙃

once again i don’t think it’s neat that they show blood being a normal goldcloak. he was discharged dishonorably for femicide. be honest

cheese’s actor kinda looks like joaquin phoenix

‘i want aemond targaryen’ i hate this fucking show.

ROSBY AND STOKEWORTH MENTION LETS GOOO

criston agreeing with aemond in private but backing alicent in public is the medieval version of ‘yea kid ur right but i don’t wanna fight with your mom’

criston looks so tired :(

‘her grace speaks with two tongues’ SAY YOUR TRUTH AEMOND

it is vain to try and blame aemond for starting the war when the war was brewing since before he was born. rhaenyra wouldn’t give up her claim, daemon wouldn’t accept it. if rhaenyra ascended, the targtowers die. there’s not another version of this story

‘she holds love for our enemy, that makes her a fool’ that makes her a traitor. especially after the events of tonight. do we think rhaenyra has a designated green supporter that tries to get her to the green’s side? why would the greens have a rhaenyra cheerleader then?

gods forbid something happens and otto is not there 🙄 control freak

i like how they’re making aemond more rage-filled. careful ewan your book!aemond is showing

‘aegon the strong’ ‘my nephews have already taken that one’ but egg 💀💀💀

i really love how aegon has his court. he’s protected by the throne’s swords AND his homies got his back

the true king can sit however he likes. he lounges on the swords and they’re as soft as pillows to him. pretenders can’t relate.

in a deeper level, it shows how he’s comfortable both in the throne and surrounded by people. he has high trust. kinghood is a tool he doesn’t have any training on but he holds it like a natural

aegon truly trusts aemond. i love that for them. if they make aemond to be treacherous i’ll cry

AEGON THE DRAGONCOCK 🐲 rip leon estermont you would’ve loved shitposting

also why the ratcatchers are just walking around the keep? are they in the tunnels or in plain sight?

the kick to the doggie :( i really hope they didn’t really kick a dog for that

unrelated but i really need the rats around the red keep to mean something like larys skinchanging into them. they can’t be a red herring or just blood and cheese. they have too many shots

again, why are they out and about? isn’t it weird to see dudes in the middle of the night?

helaena’s maid looks like emma stone and she has really good eyebrows. i’m pretty sure she knows something (larys agent ofc)

how do we go from searching for aemond to threatening helaena? whyyyyyyy

oh right we had to blame the smallfolk for being soooo greedy and wicked and stupid that you tell them kill a great warrior and they kill a baby. because daemon can’t ever order a baby killed amiright?

the little beds noooooo :( baby jaehaerys

okay i was expecting more of helaena. in the books she’s described as pleading, begging, crying and so on. phia is killing it with the eye expressions but she looks stiff in comparison with only her necklace. even trying to bargain more (my husband can give you everything and more), some more tears, some stuttering would fit show!helaena’s too. that’s on the directors tho

i also dislike the choice that anyone can just barge in the room, literally they had to make the castle desert instead of blood and cheese waiting for hel in alicent’s rooms. i know someone is going to make the point of ‘why didn’t helaena scream or run?’ and yes partly. guess we had to slander alicent in another way right?

but alas, i am thankful that a prediction of the scene didn’t came true: no children being forcefully stripped. that would’ve sent me over the edge. they implied it but no child actors were harmed in this episode

omg the sounds of the head cutting and jaehaerys’ muffled sounds i wanna cry

helaena is so lost and the castle is a maze and nobody’s there and she’s lost lost lost and running with jaehaera i can’t

did she saw a vision there? when she stopped and went to alicent’s room

imagine going to comfort for your mom and she’s at it

‘return to your post lord commander’ why didn’t you criston? 🙃

also it didn’t pass me by that aegon has THREE kingsguards in addition to his four homies and his own sword. helaena had none. even if he was off duty and he’s sworn to alicent and not helaena, the lord commander is not commanding

THREE maids at the start of the episode doing absolutely nothing and none here? i’m so mad

‘they killed the boy’ :(((((

also why is helaena so disconnected? like why is she ‘able’ or is she in shock? i hope if they don’t make her go insane with pain like in the book she gets a revenge arc where she goes on dreamfyre, she deserves it.

i hope aegon kills them all.