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precious-little-scoundrel · 3 days

Text

|| Radio ||

Requested plot points? ☑️

Circa: early February 1944

Immediate previous fic: Favorite Escape

Summary: when your hodge podge radio won’t work, who should ya call? Probably the flight engineer

Warnings: usual universe warnings apply, 18+ but nothing very alarming really happens in this one, references to others are made, some potential slut shaming in the beginning if ya squint? perhaps some queer baiting but it’s the Buckies rolling around on the flooor, they’re one massive queer bait lbr, it’s not me. Also. My shit Crystal Radio making descriptions- don’t come for me I haven’t made one and I spent five hours falling down a rabbit hole as to how the guys made them in the camps and at the end of the day I said: screw it! And went with one of the Brit’s scenarios 🍻

Edited only by my tired little eyes, full warning and have mercy 💋

Also, just a note I feel compelled to make- this fic centers around women in the army, in a war, which they’re spending under dire conditions in a POW camp. Yes there is love here, there is also hierarchy and discipline and the enforcement of that does not make one character or another necessarily callous or less loving. They are their ranks first and foremost as all signed up for.

“They’re forging papers, you know.” Maureen broached the topic to Egan one day, late February and when her cheeks were still bruised from Ida’s book.

Bucky paused his tracing of a map, sooty finger trailing along a river with the same incomprehensible name as its twin running parallel, he didn’t know anything about papers or anyone making them and she knew that. “Who?”

“Good ones. Identification, passports.” She enumerated.

“Who?”

“The Poles. The ones with the-“

“-the liquor.” he finished for her, remembrance and condemnation heavy in his wry tone. “The ones you stayed out all night with.”

“Stayed long enough for them to get drunk enough to show me.”she replied, without heat, which was surprising.

“Some grand plan of yours, huh?” He bit back a laugh, it was a fine way to cover her ass for being insubordinate. It was a way he’d likely try if he was in her place.

“No.” she swore instead. “Just luck, I happened to see them. They got careless. Maybe an answer to all Jack’s prayers.”

“Yeah. Anything to give that rosary a break.”

“Yeah.”

“You asked them?”

“What for?”

Bucky regarded her with thinning patience but something kept him from snapping, the feeling of a riddle still to be solved. “For some papers.” he clarified, measured and intent, she knew how much easier that would make their plans for Ida.

Maureen shook her head, glancing down at her twisting hands, “I didn’t want to-“ her mouth twisted too, “-I wanted to ask a superior first.”

Bucky considered that for a moment, slightly touched at her newfound wisdom, “Why not ask Buck?”

She shook her head again, auburn hair curling under her chin just so, even here in the stalag she had some traces of the old charm. “He’s got too much to worry about for me to be bringing in hypotheticals.” she was so upset by something she would not even meet John’s eye and he felt a slice of remorse for how he hadn’t even noticed the ground down change in her since she got here, his drinking buddy and the soft fleshed rival of merry old English days was a gruff and battered and sullen woman; being a red blooded American male, he regretted that dismal change. “And I'm worried about what to bargain with. What can I promise? We haven’t got much and I don’t have— there’s not much anyway, but what we’ve got I didn’t wanna promise. Not without-“ she still hadn’t met his eye, he tracked hers; a furious roving of pale blue back and forth across the floorboards and it made Bucky itch.

“Who signs these papers?” Bucky asked, thinking the logistics through, knowing she’d perk up if he brought them up.

“Haven’t a clue. Maybe they haven’t figured that part out yet. I don’t know. I just know they’ve got papers.”

“Good ones.”

“Yeah.”

“We haven’t got much.” he agreed, clicking his teeth in thought, “What’d you give them for the liquor?”

“They just invited me.”

“Didn’t have to lend a hand or nothin’?” he balked and Maureen threw him a glare that seemed more hurt than rage, and chastened by a voice inside that sounded much like his mama’s, he amended with sheepish humor, “Hell, feel like lending a hand myself these days, if it’d get me a whisky.”

Her gnarled fist curled white in her lap, she managed hoarsely, “They just wanted to talk about home. To someone who hadn’t heard about it a million times before.”

“They got cigarettes?” he asked.

“As most common payment for their booze -they’ve got enough to insulate their shack three deep.”

“Cigarettes won’t cut it then.”

“I’ve been thinking.”-

“Yeah?”

“The radio. I’m the only one who doesn’t think it’s worth the risk but, I know, it doesn’t matter, it’s happening. Gale’s going to keep trying. And if it works-“ she rubbed at her eyes, tired and unsure, “-that’s quite the bargaining chip.”

Bucky nodded slowly, eyes narrowing as his smile grew a touch broader, “News of the outside world.” he was half in agreement, “Buck asked for a week. Been four days.”

“He’s stumped.” Maureen retorted instantly. “And he’ll stay that way and he’ll go nuts and you’ll go die going over the fence and then he’ll have no reason left not to die too.”

Bucky whistled, low and chiding, “You’re full of rainbows today, Candy.”

“You know who he oughta ask.” she shook off the barb. “But he won’t. And I don’t want him risking it for this thing anymore than anyone else, but you all want it so bad, and they’ll shoot us for it if it works or not. I’m not asking her. But you would. Might as well get shot for it working, right? Isn't that what you said yesterday? You know who he should ask.”

Bucky’s keen eyes showed the moment it dawned on him, his eyebrows shot up and his mouth sagged and he ran a weathered hand over his face, “Awww shit, Candy.” came garbled behind his palm. “Ah shit.” he said again with conviction as he shoved the hand into his pocket, wretched acknowledgment of her point clear on his face.

“I didn’t want to suggest it, told Ida it’s a fucking dangerous thing and I’ll never forgive if— but you all—“

Bucky grounded aloud, “Nah, nah she’s -Lu would solve it.” he muttered, shushing her. “Demarco really pummeled you the other day, huh?” he added, and that got her to meet his eye, she looked spooked and a little incensed, “Saw him fuckin’ you up behind B compound but sheesh, s’like he hollowed you out worse than a jacolantern; yer shifty as hell.”

“He-“ Maureen still felt like blanching at the memory of Benny’s terribly correct opinions, his disappointed eyes and his fist full of her flight jacket asking her what in the living fuck was wrong with her besides a concussion, a sick childhood and an ever nauseating jealousy of Buck Cleven’s paternal time and effort, “-he had some admonitions. After…after the other night.”

Bucky hummed, shitty smirk taking up residence on his face, “How ‘bout that.”

“I’m gonna be better.” she muttered and Bucky felt for her, could almost taste the echo of his identical and hollow determination to climb the mountain of bad habits when weak from spuds and pneumonia. He told himself the same every morning and fell into bed condoning his failure every night, like a ritual.

“You’re gonna get us those papers.” he corrected, shoving off the wall to come near her, give her the full Major treatment and maybe a friendly hand, “And you can promise your drinkin’ buddies news from the radio.”

Maureen nodded in understanding, no joy or animation left in her green eyes. She used to enjoy a bit of subterfuge, now she only felt hollow misery at the thought that she'd dragged Lu into this, too. This risk she hated so much and yet no one cared. Lu would be glad to be dragged in, it’s true, she was itching at the chance to be useful and to make Gale proud, it’s how the girl was wired. It’s how most girls were wired, Maureen supposed, desperate to make Gale Cleven approve. Lu’s enthusiasm wouldn’t make the sight of her being made to kneel in the mud and have a bullet put in her head any easier, wouldn’t make Maureen feel any less responsible for it when her lifeless body thudded to the earth.

All that lovely goodness stamped out.

Over a radio.

Bucky’s hand felt too hard and too big on her shoulder. He had gone before the vision cleared, mud and wire and the freezing main square at Ravensbruck fading back to the musty bunk room. Maureen shook herself and stood up to make herself somehow appealing, reamniante some semblance of the cheerful rashness that had led her to the Polish combine in the first place: she found it hard to inspire. She’d like to count that a victory but she knew better, she wasn’t reformed she was just tired.

A washed face and a fake smile and the promise of news from outside would have to be enough to bank all their risks on, it would have to be.

“Crank,” she greeted the man in the hall, flashing him clean, water brushed teeth and her gentlest, freshly soot lined eyes, “I’ve been tasked by Major Egan with an errand, spare a minute to babysit me?”

__________________________________

Bucky finds Buck Cleven in his own bunkroom, Demarco outside on watch and that’s all Bucky needs to know to guess the radio is out and Buck’s working like a fiend yet again to make it work. Sure enough, he’s hunched over the table with it, mittened hands shaking from cold and exhaustion and a sheen of sweat on his forehead despite the paltry sweater he wears.

Bucky walks in and Gale gives him a soft, acknowledging glance before continuing to his work. Bucky takes up his usual place behind Buck’s left shoulder to watch and Buck, being used to it, goes on.

“My little Kriegie Marconi, huh?” Bucky allows the nagging impulse he has felt for weeks while standing in this position to finally exert itself, and his forefinger lifts and swirls in the curling gold strands of hair at the nape of Gale’s neck, his friend almost bolts away but then seems to choose a prey’s tactic and just stills, goes very still and Bucky scritches the scalp beneath his grab in assurance he don’t meant anything by it. He doesn’t think he does, at least.

Gale, wary and with a voice close to mechanized it’s so stilted, inquires with ever-present politeness, “You alright Bucky?”

It’s better than that whole ‘major’ business; getting called Major as if that meant shit anymore. “Yeah, ‘course I am.” Bucky rakes his fingers through the hairs there at the nape of that dainty neck, scritches the scalp with all four of his main ones, and uncovers a white long scar sliding round once he lifts the hairs there. “Why wouldn’t I be? Gonna be a father soon.”

Buck does jerk then, away from his touch and wheeling his chair around to glare at Bucky; it’s an impressively executed little pirouette and John misses the feel of his warm neck and oil soft hair. “Jesus John.” he reprimands.

“We’re gonna get outta here Buck.” John swears, he’s so sure of it because he cannot in all his thinking and predicting ever imagine a scenario where they don’t, and he chooses to think it’s not delusion but a good omen. “Ida’s gonna have that baby and when it’s safe we’ll all meet up.”

Gale is looking at him like he’s his own father again, Bucky knows that look, it always makes him equal parts ashamed and desperate, “Jus’ like that.” Gale mocks in a husky gust.

It’s devastating, and it’s intended to be, and Bucky could bear that with better humor if he could still touch Gale and his hair. “Just like that.”

Gale hums and it’s a mean sorta vocalization that makes Bucky’s heart thud and his skin prickle hot, it’s the kinda noise you kiss off a person, he thinks, but it’s Buck and so he doesn’t know what to do with it. “It’s gonna get you killed.” Buck is saying instead and Bucky lets him, “I know you all think she’s cracked up and maybe she has but it wouldn’t hurt to listen to Kendeigh sometimes when she’s tellin’ ya shit that a five year old could accurately guess, -goddamn it.”

His voice rose to a strong rage by the end and Bucky takes a chair opposite him, sick of standing there like a dumb dog waiting for his scolding to be over. “So what.” Bucky challenges him, “We just wait around and Brady pops out a child and the krauts let us keep it and it’s our new mascot and we all sing zippidy doo da, huh? Huh, Buck?”

Gale’s hands fell away from his face with a slam to the table, a shocking degree of anger showing for a split second and it gave Bucky an odd degree of gratification. “I jus’ want you to find a plan with better odds.”

Bucky sniffed and leaned forward, went in for the kill and Gale was looking at him like he expected it, like it was his turn to play daddy to everyone here and Gale for once was so beaten down he wouldn’t just allow the changing of the guard, he was close to angry at its lateness. It made Bucky’s heart thud.

“I’ve been listening to Kendeigh.” Bucky refuted briefly, “And we’ve got a plan.” Gale gave him a tired look of encouragement to go on, “How long’s it been since you slept? Huh, well, we got a plan. Practically perfect, or it will be, just need the radio.”

“Ain’t giving this away.” Gale said, “Not for anythin’, even useless.”

Bucky patted the table top in easy assurance, if he could have reached Buck’s thigh, he’d have patted that instead, “No, no, don’t need to give it away, just need it to work. So,” he softened his voice and his eyes tightened, “I’m callin’ Lu in.”

Oddly, Gale does not fight it. Not aloud, at least. There’s an anguished look of hate on his face and Bucky mirrors it. It’s for this place and the fucking awful choices they have to choose from every goddamn day.

“You run this by Ida?” is all he asks.

Bucky pops his flaking lips audibly, “What, need us both gangin’ up on you to agree? She’ll sign off. Smith’s an officer. Gotta remember that sometimes, Buck.”

The way his Buck swallows hard and dry contradicts his words, “I do remember that.”

“Really?” Bucky’s mouth gives a soft smile of doubtful incredulity and Gale’s mimics it, mournful but a smirk all the same, “Feel like she should answer to ‘Gale’s Baby’ these days. Lieutenant Smith who?”

Gale scoffs, “Careful now.”

“No really, she’s an officer and she wants to be treated like one. It’ll do her good to have work. Her kinda work.”

“Could get her killed.”

“Layin’ in her bunk could do that.”

Gale grunts, its sounds like an agreement.

“So I say Lieutenant Smith gets put on radio detail. Like her goddamn job description suggests. Huh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Gale lets out a shaky agreement.

“Aaaaand,” Bucky draws it out as he rises again and saunters over to Buck who is ready for him and loose this time, “how bout I go back to bein’ the one you’re frettin’ ‘bout all the time. Got me almost jealous of the girl. How ‘bout I do. Huh?”

Gale’s scoff is fond as anything as he looks up at John with cheerful derision, “And you ‘bout to be a father? Make me an old man? Fuck no, ya looney.”

“Alright.” Bucky concedes with hands up in surrender before lurching forward and grasping Gale’s rickety chair back by its wobbly spokes and hefting it partially off the ground, beautiful and outraged prude of an occupant still seated in it, “Then I’ll play daddy and put you to bed, how ‘bout that.”

“John Egan for fucks sake-“ Gale’s fists pounded on the meat of his shoulders and his outraged protests wafted against Bucky’s neck and his jabbing knees collided with the meat of his thighs and Bucky hadn’t felt so close to him or so happy to be alive since England.

“Major sir, the hell is goin’ on?” Demarco’s tame inquiry from the safety of the doorway made them both lose their grapple and they collided together onto the floor, bunk bed barely missed by their heads and the hapless chair mixed up between their limbs.

Bucky grinned, hip sore from his fall and kidneys suffering from Buck’s trapped elbow there, “Puttin’ Goldilocks to bed.” he replied.

DeMarco processed that and the scene before him with grave sobriety before saluting lazily and turning to go, “Right on, sir.”

John did his best to rise up without further pinching Gale who was indeed trapped beside him and beneath him, chair legs wound between a lanky human leg in a puzzle that Bucky realized might take some caution to untangle without harm. Strangely, Buck wasn’t moving, he was just looking up at him like a cat would their clumsy master who has done somethin’ stupid which was a surprise to neither. It was so innocuous a look and so nostalgic, it winded Bucky with the realization he hadn’t seen it in ages, just as he hadn’t felt his boney ribs against his own and the feel of his elegant hands yanking him around in a fight. This miserable place really was stomping out the glow in the best people.

“Ya know Buck,” he ventured, clearing his throat for extra casualness, “I’ve missed you.” When Gale only kept looking up at him, perfect porcelain face with its unsettling scars and wary eyes without a lick of storm in them, John Egan grabbed his shovel and dug his own grave a little deeper, drug a finger down his cheek. “Missed all this.”

Bucky didn’t know what he meant by “this” but it felt safer and worse all at once, since he did miss Buck but he and Buck never used to hang out on floors with a chair as chaperone. Mercifully, Buck neither points that out nor moves away, acting very much like he needed to heaped on the floor with Bucky and a stray chair every bit as much as John did. Like it’s doing him good.

“And you couldn’t’ve jus’ said.” Gale murmurs with the softest eye roll of the century and Bucky feels like beaming and it must show in his face so strong and bright after a sunless winter that after a flash Gale’s cheeks flame from it and he averts his eyes.

“I dunno Buck, could I?” Egan asks one blushing cheek and Gale hasn’t got a good reply for that, so they just lay there on the floor.

“Go on now, get off me.” Gale doesn’t shove at him, he presses his hand to John’s forehead like he would a dog and John goes, obedient as one.

———————————————————————-

They found Lu with Murph and Benny and Brady, measuring out what seemed to be lot lines between Love Shack #9 and the next combine, boot scuffed perimeters already visible in the light snow and drawn in a decently tidy rectangle. There were guards loitering nearby, nosey as always with their cigarettes and their antsy dogs anytime someone did something out there besides piss or pace or stare at the fence.

“What’s all this?” Bucky inquired cheerfully, coming up to them with Gale, bundled and shivering behind him.

Benny looked up from tilling a furrow with his boot, right where Lu’s mittened finger pointed out. “It’s for the garden. S’posed to be spring before long.”

“A Chicago man oughta know better, Benny.” Egan snarked.

“Need us?”

Bucky sniffed, a casual set to his body that belied his quest, “Just the little one.”

Smith promptly looked startled, then eager. “All well Majors?”

“Need your advice on the color of my cufflinks with this suit.” Bucky extended his arm and beckoned her, “C’mon back in for a minute. One of you too, need a watch to go with the cufflinks.”

———————————————————————

With Benny on guard, Brady and Kendeigh having excavated the radio’s shell from the floorboard and table leg in which it resided, the Buckies stood over Smith’s small frame as she sat at the table and inspected the simplistic device with keen eyed appreciation for the construct.

“It’s really marvelous.” she assured Cleven, running her fingers over the carefully coiled wire and precarious pin.

Gale didn’t even crack a smile. “What’s wrong with it?” he asked instead.

She shook her head, a frown gathering. “Never made one-“ she cautioned.

“-but you get the idea.”

“Yes sir, I do.”

“So what’s wrong.”

Lu ran her fingers over the wire, again and again, the dusty metal not insulated, just bare copper, likely stripped from somewhere. It reminded her of early days as a cadet when they threw chicken wire mixed with hydraulic lines at herself and her fellow rookie engineers and told them to sort it, testing to see if they knew which was which. It had been so rudimentary she had wanted to laugh until she realized others were being flunked.

This was so basic she was stumped.

“Take your time, Lu.” Bucky spoke up after a burdened pause during which she could almost feel Major Cleven breathing down her neck.

“Candy, can I try with the headphone?” she asked at last, frustrated and out of her element, just a few months out of a plane and she had already lost her touch.

Maureen passed it over and Lu pressed it to her ear, not to discern what was quite obviously radio silence, but to imagine the whole process in reverse, track it down the cord all the way to the base, each possible breakdown of the conduction.

She fingered the ramshackle diode with burgeoning suspicion. “What’s your crystal?”

“That’s just…lead.” Cleven muttered.

“From?”

“Ground pencils.” Bucky supplied cheerfully.

Smith bit her lip, “We need sulfur added. Lead won’t conduct on its own.” She figured Cleven knew that, the grim and unmoving set of his mouth suggested so.

“Just- sulfur?” Maureen asked.

“If I had sulfur we could add it to the lead dust, ignite it and-“ Smith grinned at Kendeigh, knowing that she alone may have shared her enjoyment of a small conflagration from time to time, “burn it down and you’ve got something close enough to Galena. Just need a pinch of it should work.”

Bucky shoved his hands in his pockets and surveyed the mostly morose room. All except for the two girls grinning at each other over the hypothetical of a little chemistry experiment in a highly flammable wooden combine.

“We’ve got sandy soil.” Buck’s contemplative drawl spoke up, “Dunno if we could extract enough pure sulfur.”

Maureen stared back at Egan instead, “Other sectors have gotten portions of kits, chemistry kits, radio kits, they’ve been smuggled in with all sorts of stuff. Inside of a violin, oat bags. Nothing to fully build something. They might have sulfur. I could make inquiries and- well, Jack could pick it up next time the band goes over C compound to entertain the poor Aussie bastards.”

“How do you kno- nevermind, actually. Nevermind.” Bucky broke off, “Alright. Sure, why not. Ya sure that’s it?” he asked Lu once more.

She gave a helpless little shrug. “Gotta be. Or the wire’s dirty. Where’d it come from anyway?”

Gale gave Bucky a long suffering look as Bucky seemed to swell a couple inches and bounce back on his heels at the mention of his scrounging prowess. “The lamp.” he nodded above them all.

Jack Brady scoffed, short, clipped, betrayed, “That why it cuts out all the time? Strobed us so bad last night -thought the room was possessed.”

“Sacrifices Jack, sacrifices.”

———————————————————

Benny had hauled in enough water buckets to elicit some negative attention from the guards, and when the inspection came the inmates of the Love Shack insisted the drenched floors and table of the Majors’ barracks were due to sanitation post regurgitation. At night, with only one stolen torch light from Combine 15 to illuminate the endeavor, a basin of water beneath a smaller bowl in which lay their precious and recently procured ingredients, a science experiment began. The Majors and Ida gathered round, all looking as ghastly and spectral in the light of the flashlight as Brady’s fake ghost. It held the thrill of a bonfire night except for the stakes, which all in the room did their best not to dwell on.

“Zippo, Candy.” Lu gave the word and Maureen, with only the protection of Ida’s bent aviators to keep from a scorched cornea, flicked on her lighter and set the mixed powders ablaze.

It flamed up high and smelly, making Benny gag and mutter something about Meatball’s gas to a tittering Brady, and then died down to a yellow smoking ember.

“We should let it sit.” Lu surmised with a squeeze to Maureen’s only somewhat singed hand, her big dark eyes surveying the burnt bowl and their smoking experiment with glittery excitement at the possibility of success, “Let it cool, settle, maybe strain it. Can you get me a net? Oh Candy come now, get me a strainer?” she begged with a laugh as Maureen rolled her eyes at the idea of yet another trip to the Stalag Market for the most random items imaginable. If they hoped to not be suspicious, they’d need better lies or more money.

“How about cheesecloth?” Kendeigh tried not to grin indulgently- and failed- in the face of Lu and having recently been allowed to set something on fire

Lu kissed her cheek. “Cheesecloth would be perfect.”

In the end, cheesecloth did indeed prove perfect, and amongst the burnt dust of the combined minerals was a gritty little pinch full of the needed crystals. Or so Lu said, Gale agreed but the crease between his brows hadn’t lifted for two days; Bucky’s fingers had begun to twitch in antsy need to manually smooth them out. He imagined Maureen felt the same but she hadn’t said, uncharacteristically forbearant now she had some job to keep her sane. Even if it was playing fetch for Lu.

—————————————————————

“Well, this is it.” Gale muttered when the watch had been set once more, Murph and Hambone on the steps, Crank inside, Brady at the door, Benny at the window. Even Major Clark had joined them in the barracks for this final try and Lu’s cheeks were maroon from the attention even as her deft hands steadily pressed her concoction beneath its intended rod.

“Pass me the pliers, sir?” She asked and for a moment, the teacher became the apprentice and Gale fetched her the stalag forged tool, rudimentary like everything here yet the gripped and pulled and lifted same as the pliers back home. “You could check your look in this wire’s reflection.” She complimented Gale’s buffing of the copper wire.

He shrugged in turn. “Didn't wanna leave anythin’ to chance. That it?” he asked as her hands stalled and she surveyed her work.

Lu nodded solemnly. “Yes sir.”

Gale picked up the headphone from in front of him on the table like it was a gun he was about to bring to his head. “Here.” He extended it to her instead, “S’right, it was your job, you should be the first. Cmon.”

Despite her voiceless protest he pressed the headphones into her hands and Lu, never knowing how to disobey an officer, folded immediately.

For a good ten seconds everyone in the room held their breath as Smith pressed the headphone to her ear and gently wiggled the clothespin along the wire, searching and tuning, her face holding that old peaceful concentration they hadn’t seen since the last mission. She was at home with her mind tuned to another dimension. The pilots in the room knew that look, that was the look of someone at home with something that terrified them all the same, the gut swooping feeling of clearing the take off and sledding along the tops of the clouds. Wrong and strange and utterly incomparable to others, it was the closest to home one’s mind could be. Lu belonged somewhere on those electric currents and searching them out was like finding oneself again.

Then at last, Lu’s eyes sharpened out of their dreamy haze of concentration and she said, gentle as always, “It’s the BBC sir.”

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eggyrocks · 3 days

Text

ENCOUNTERS

00 prologue: dumped

All Suna wants is a relaxing, post-show cigarette in the parking lot. But that girl’s fighting with her boyfriend again.

For as long as they’ve been a band, she’s been coming to their shows . And as long as she’s been coming to their shows, she’s been fighting with her boyfriend at them. The same boyfriend every time too, the gangly looking one with the constantly messed-up hair.

He flicks the end of his lighter, watching as she takes several steps back from him, laughing in indignation, throwing up her arms up in exasperation. The boyfriend’s just standing there, outside the driver’s seat of his idling car.

They always fight about stupid shit. The boyfriend’s controlling. She likes to do whatever she wants. He yells at her about lying about where she was going for the night. She yells back about him going through her phone. Honestly, Suna’s not even sure why the two of them are still together. It seems like they really, really fucking hate each other.

He can hear a bit of what she’s screaming now, something about not trusting her or respecting her individuality and him shooting back that she’s done nothing to earn his trust, and she has no personality outside of liking this stupid fucking band.

Suna inhales and crosses his arms over his chest. He’s not sure why he’s getting dragged into it.

Honestly, he figures he should probably count his losses with the cigarette and go back inside, let them have it out like they normally do alone, in the privacy of this empty venue parking lot. But his morbid curiosity gets the better of him, and he stays, watching aptly as they tear each other’s throats out.

And, oddly, he kinda feels compelled to stick around, to make sure she ends up okay. He doesn’t know anything about her really, and he hardly remembers her name half the time, but her unrelenting dedication to his band has kind of earned some loyalty in return.

Enough for him to stick outside and keep an eye on her while her boyfriend loses his mind.

Suna watches as he turns away from her, and flings open the backseat of his car. He watches as she yells out, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” and he watches as the boyfriend pulls out three, large, overflowing duffle bags and deposits them at her feet, despite her protests.

And then, he gets in his car and drives away.

His loyalty is being tested.

All Suna can think about as he approaches her is how badly he does not want to. But she’s collapsed now, sitting on top of her pile of duffle bags and sobbing, right there in the middle of the parking lot. Plus, if Kiyoko found out he left a crying girl alone in the parking lot, she’d probably skin him. So he drops his cigarette to the ground and snuffs it out with the heel of his shoe. “Hey,” he greets, because he doesn’t know what else to say.

She looks up, wet eyes wide and covered in smudged, black makeup. She inhales sharply. It could pass for a hiccup. “Oh, hey. Good show tonight,” she sniffles.

“Yeah, thank” Suna nods, looking at the ground beside her instead of directly at her. He feels strange standing above her like he is, so he kneels, weight on the balls of his feet. “Are, erm, are you okay?”

She blinks, and hiccups again. At least her crying’s slowed. “Um, no, not really. I just got dumped, and also, like evicted, I’m pretty sure.”

Suna looks at the bags underneath her. “This all your stuff?”

“Most of it, I think.”

“Okay,” Suna starts, trying to come up with anything useful or productive, “so, can you like, call a friend to stay at their place for now or something? I don’t think I wanna leave with you just like, here.”

Her eyes start to water again, and Suna immediately feels like he’s done something wrong. “No, not really. I mean, my old roommates got new places out of the city and I don’t know who they live with or even where and my other friends all live together in a two bedroom but there’s three of them and I couldn’t even stay in there if I tried because there’s no room, and I don’t like my mom and I guess I could ask this one friend but I know she won’t answer and I don’t know where I’m going to stay and I’m kind of-“

“Okay,” Suna cuts her off, dread already forming in his stomach. Because he cannot, in good conscience, leave a crying girl in the middle of a parking lot. He cannot let her just figure it out on her own. So he knows what’s coming next. He sighs and stands upright. Fuck, he better get some good karma for this. “Do you wanna stay at my place for the night?”

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austinbutlerslovers · 1 day

Text

The Good Girl

Label Mature 18+

One Shot

Summary Shy timid and sweet by nature you have trouble adjusting to the real world until a fateful chain of events compels you to do something a good girl would never dream of.

Heading from Michigan state back to Wisconsin for spring break you get stranded in a downpour with your roommate on the out skirts of Chicago.

Luckily for you there’s a bar nearby to seek help where you meet a handsome stranger who blurs the lines between right and wrong, until you find yourself drawn into a wild night of passion.

⚠️ Hardcore Smut ⚠️ dubcon •coercion • inexperience •shyness •corruption •age gap• power play• overstimulation •fingering •nipple play•teasing• •size kink • orgasms • protection

Inspo two requests similar theme for Benny ☺️ age gap +innocent reader + smut (obsessed so I combined them 💞) enjoy

The Good Girl

You and your friend, Darlene, have been driving for hours when you finally reach the mile marker for Chicago. The relentless downpour makes it nearly impossible to see through the windshield.

The wipers work frantically, but the rain falls faster than they can clear it and Darlene’s brows furrow as she concentrates on the road.

The two of you are heading back to Wisconsin for spring break from Michigan State University. You had only been at the university for a few months, and everything still felt new and overwhelming.

The campus was massive, and you, timid and shy, had found it hard to fit in right away. Meeting Darlene had been a stroke of luck.

She is confident and outgoing with a knack for effortlessly makes friends—fun in a way that draws everyone in. You, on the other hand, are shy and strait-laced, always playing the good girl, the one who follows the rules unsure how to step out of your comfort zone.

While Darlene charges into life without hesitation, you tend to observe, fading into the background, content in your quieter world. But somehow, despite your differences, you’ve become inseparable.

When you first moved into the dorms, you had been so nervous about sharing a room with someone. The thought of spending months with a complete stranger had filled you with anxiety, but Darlene quickly eased your worries.

From the moment she introduced herself, she had a way of making you feel comfortable. It helped that she was also from Wisconsin, and the two of you bonded quickly over the familiar feeling of home.

Darlene was everything you weren’t—bold, loud, and always up for a good time. She had quickly become the center of your small social circle, and while you were still adjusting to university life, you admired how easily she navigated it.

Always quieter and more reserved, you were happy to let her take the lead in most things, and Darlene didn’t seem to mind your shyness one bit. If anything, Darlene had made it her mission to pull you out of your shell.

She’d coax you into doing things you’d never dream of, flashing that infectious smile that made it impossible to say no.

Whether it was dragging you to social events or encouraging you to take risks, Darlene seemed to thrive on challenging the boundaries you set for yourself always making sure it was in a way that made you feel a little spark of confidence.

As she drives through the storm, you can’t help but feel a little more at ease with her behind the wheel. Even though she plays around a lot, she’s focused now, her hands steady as the car moves cautiously along the rain-soaked highway.

“You alright over there?” Darlene asks, glancing at you for a second before returning her eyes to the road.

“Yeah,” you reply quietly, your hands resting nervously in your lap. “Just… this weather is pretty bad.”

Darlene chuckles, her confidence unwavering. “Don’t worry, it’s just a little rain,” she says, and though the intensity of the downpour would make most people nervous, she stays calm and upbeat.

You can’t help but smile a little. Even though you’re shy and still adjusting to this new chapter of your life, Darlene has a way of making you feel like everything will be okay. For someone like you, who’s always been more cautious and hesitant, having her around feels like a safety net.

“I still can’t believe you’ve never had a boyfriend,” Darlene teases, glancing over at you with a mischievous grin, trying to keep the mood light despite the weather.

You blush, feeling self-conscious. “It’s not like I haven’t thought about it,” you mutter, looking down at your hands in your lap. “I just… I don’t know. I’ve never met the right guy.”

Darlene laughs lightly, shaking her head. “You’ve gotta stop waiting for some prince charming to show up on a white horse. Sometimes you just gotta go for it.”

You smile softly, fiddling with the edge of your dress. “Maybe. But I don’t want to rush into something just to say I’ve had a boyfriend.”

Darlene rolls her eyes playfully. “You’re too sweet for this world, I swear.”

Just as she says that, the car begins to sputter. Darlene frowns, glancing down at the dashboard. “That’s not good,” she says, concern flickering in her voice.

Before you can ask what’s happening, the engine stalls completely. The car coasts to a slow stop on the side of the road, the rain pounding relentlessly against the roof.

“Oh, great,” Darlene groans, slumping back in her seat. “What now?”

You both sit in silence for a moment, the sound of the rain and the dead silence of the car making it clear you’re stuck.

“What do we do?” you ask, glancing around at the empty, rain-soaked road.

Darlene sighs. “I don’t know, but we can’t sit here forever. Maybe there’s something up ahead.”

Squinting through the rain, you spot a faint neon sign flickering in the distance. “Hey, look,” you say, pointing. “There’s a bar up there. Maybe we can get some help?”

Darlene turns to see the sign and nods quickly. “It’s worth a shot. Let’s go.”

Without a jacket or umbrella, you and Darlene step out into the pouring rain. Within moments, you’re completely soaked, the rain drenching your clothes and hair. You hurry toward the bar, the neon sign glowing brighter as you approach.

When you finally reach the doors and step inside, the warmth of the bar wraps around you, and you let out a relieved sigh. The room is filled with low chatter and the sound of pool balls clacking together.

Every male patron glances up, momentarily caught off guard by your appearance as you and Darlene enter, dripping wet from the rain.

One in particular, catches your eye—he’s leaning over the pool table, his muscular arms exposed in a sleeveless tee, a cue stick resting in his hand. His sandy brown hair is tousled lightly and his striking blue eyes immediately lock onto yours as his full lips curve into a knowing smile.

You’ve never seen a man like him before—so rugged, so effortlessly confident. His eyes seem to hold you in place, like he can see through every layer of you, and your cheeks burn, suddenly realizing your dress is clinging to your form.

A wave of nerves and excitement washes over you as and you quickly look away, feeling flustered as your hands fidget nervously pulling down the hem of your soaked dress.

You can still feel his eyes on you, the heat rushing to your face, and no matter how hard you try, you can’t stop yourself as you sneak another glance at him.

He sets his cue stick down, the game long forgotten as he starts walking your way. His friend follows his gaze, pausing mid-shot, but all you can focus on is him. Your mind is a blur of emotions as he approaches, and you struggle to compose yourself.

“You’re gonna catch a chill like that,” he says, his voice deep and warm, his eyes never leaving yours. “What happened to you?”

Your words stick in your throat, and you try to speak, but only a few soft breaths escape. You take in how tall he is, your eyes flicking over the strength of his muscles before managing to lock eyes with him again. Up close, he’s even more gorgeous, and your heart skips a beat.

Darlene notices the effect he has on you and grins, stepping in to lead the conversation.

“Our car stalled,” she explains, glancing at you, clearly amused by how dumbstruck you are staring at him. “We don’t know why it happened, but it’s up the road. Im Darlene by the way and this shy one here is—“

She nudges you to introduces yourself and when you tell him your name it’s barely more than a whisper as you look up at him still caught in a daze.

“I’m Benny,” he says, his expression softening, his gaze lingering on you. “I’ll get you some help,” and with that he heads toward the bar, leaving you standing there with your pulse racing in his absence.

You and Darlene wait as Benny asks the bartender to call a local tow truck. The bartender nods, picking up the phone to make the call, but you can barely concentrate.

Your thoughts are completely consumed by Benny—his voice, his easy confidence, the way he moves. Your gaze keeps drifting over his body, noticing how the biceps in his muscular arms flex in his sleeveless shirt, every movement smooth and effortless.

“So, that’s your type, huh?” Darlene teases seeing the way you stare at Benny with a knowing smirk on her lips. “No wonder the college boys aren’t doing it for you.”

You flush with embarrassment, glancing at Darlene, unsure of what to say. “I—what? No, I can’t just…,” you stammer, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks.

“Why not? He’s gorgeous. You should go for it,” she encourages, her grin widening as she nudges you playfully.

“I can’t,” you murmur, shaking your head. The idea feels too bold, too daring, but your heart races at the thought.

Before you can protest further, Benny returns, a reassuring smile on his face. “Looks like you’ll get a tow when the rain clears up,” he says, his eyes flicking to yours with a warmth that makes your pulse quicken.

“Where do you live?” Benny asks casually, his gaze still fixed on you, making you feel like you’re the only one in the room.

“W-Wisconsin, I’m on spring break…from…-M-Michigan State” you finally manage to get out, your voice stuttering as you try to calm your rising nerves.

Benny tuts softly, shaking his head with an amused grin. “Long way from home sugar,” he says smoothly, his tone low and infectious with a look in his eyes that makes your stomach flip. You nod eagerly, unable to shake the butterflies swirling inside you under his gaze.

He glances out the window, noticing the rain still coming down in sheets. "Looks like we’ll be here for a while," he smiles. "How about a game of pool to pass the time?" He asks as his eyes lock onto yours, and the way he says it makes your heart skip a beat.

You fidget nervously, your fingers brushing against the hem of your damp dress shy under his attention. "I’ve… I’ve never played before," you admit, feeling a flush in your cheeks.

Darlene, ever the bold one, nudges you with a grin. "She’d love to learn," she teases, giving you a knowing look, clearly amused by how flustered you are around Benny.

Benny grins his eyes softening as he looks at you. "C’mon, I’ll show you sugar," he coaxes gently, his voice like honey with warmth and reassurance. “I’ll teach you everything you need to know."

His charm works its magic, and despite your nerves, there’s something about Benny’s easygoing nature that makes you feel a little more comfortable.

He gestures for his friend, a tall guy with a laid back smile, to come over. "This is Cal," Benny introduces. "Cal, this is Darlene."

Cal flashes an easy grin, nodding at Darlene,“Nice to meet you,” he says, and the way his eyes linger on her makes it clear that he’s more than happy to take over the role of entertaining her for the night.

Benny brings you over to the pool table and once there, he quickly pockets the scattered balls from the previous game until only a white and red one remain.

You can’t help but admire the way his muscles flex beneath his sleeveless tee as he lines them up, the white ball at the edge near you and the red ball in the center, each placement deliberate and smooth. When he’s done he looks up and catches you watching him, a slow, knowing smile spreading across his lips.

“Ready?” he asks, his voice low and inviting. You nod and he picks up a cue stick placing it gently in your hands, you stare down at its size and feel its weight in your palms unsure of what to do.

"Here," he says softly, his fingers brushing against yours and he positions you over the table.

The heat of his body is almost overwhelming against you and your pulse quickens while he guides your movements.

"Just like this," he murmurs, leaning in, his breath warm against your ear. "You gotta line it up to take your shot, then you ease into it until it feels right."

The sound of his voice, so deep and close, sends a shiver down your spine.

His chest presses lightly against your back as he adjusts your grip on the cue, and the firm feel of his body so close to yours has you nearly forgetting how to even hold the stick.

Your try to focus, but it’s impossible with Benny pressed against you, his touch is smooth and casual as he leans in even closer, his hand gently guiding yours as you prepare you take your first shot.

"You’ve got to get it just right," he whispers softly near your ear, and the simple gesture has your breath catching in your throat.

You look up from the game and see Darlene having a blast with Cal, their laughter filling the bar as they sip drinks and select music from the jukebox carefree and completely at ease.

"Do you drink?" Benny asks suddenly, his voice low, his blue eyes flicking over to you with a teasing glint.

You shake your head, barely managing to answer as your mind races with the feel of his hand still resting over yours on the pool cue. "No… never," you say, your voice breathless.

Benny’s smile grows approvingly. "Good girl," he says in a low, teasing tone, his gaze lingering on your flushed face for just a moment longer before returning to the game.

His compliment sends a wave of warmth through you, and you can’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness.

His hand moves to your waist and for a moment, just from his touch, your heart races even faster.

"You’re doing good," he says softly, his eyes catching yours again, and the way he looks at you makes your stomach flip.

His grip tightens on your waist as he adjusts your stance and warmth of his palm through the thin fabric of your dress ignites something deep within you.

Despite trying to focus on the game, all you can think about is Benny and how close he is, every subtle movement of his body feeling impossibly intimate.

Benny flexes his arm, as he holds you to line up the shot, and a small, breathy sound of pleasure escapes your lips.

His smile widens instantly, hearing it “You alright there, sweetheart?” he asks, his voice soft laced with a teasing tone.

You can feel your face burning, embarrassed by how easily you’ve been overcome by him, but Benny doesn’t seem to mind.

The way his eyes linger on you with his fingers gently pressing into your waist, says he’s enjoying every second.

“Relax for me,” he whispers, his breath warm against your ear.

His entire body presses against yours as he helps guide the pool cue forward, and all you can focus on is the sensation of his strong arms wrapped around you, the firmness of his chest, and the way his breath is warm on your skin.

“We’re almost there,” he whispers again, teasing against your ear.

You’re completely overwhelmed by him, and you can tell he knows it. His smile stays soft, as if he’s testing just how easily he can make your heart race with a single touch.

He thrusts into you hard as you both push the stick forward. The flex of his body against yours makes pleasurable sigh escape your lips.

You feel a warmth flood through you as the ball rolls smoothly across the table and lands perfectly in the pocket with a satisfying clack.

His smile grows even wider, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “Just like that,” he murmurs, his voice deep and smooth, the words sending a shiver through you.

As you slowly stand back up together the heat between you intensifies, with a single glance, your eyes lock on his in a way that’s more than just a feeling—it’s deeper. Every breath feels heavier, the air charged with something unspoken, heavy with anticipation, waiting for what comes next.

Neither of you notice the bartender approaching until he speaks, “Sorry to say, ladies,” he says, looking between you and Darlene.

“Even though the rain’s let up, I can’t reach the tow truck driver again. Seems he’s already clocked out for the night, I’ll have to try again in the morning.”

You stand in shock, exchanging a worried glance with Darlene, the reality sinking in that you’re stranded without a way home.

“There’s a motel not far from here that’ll take you in for the night,” the bartender offers.

Darlene, always practical but a bit frustrated, sighs. “That’s nice and all, but we don’t even have a way to get there without the car.”

“I can take you,” Benny says, his voice steady and reassuring, his eyes locking on yours. “On my Harley.”

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of his motorcycle, excitement and nerves swirling inside as you look up at him, shy and hesitant.

“I’ve never been on a motorcycle before,” you admit quietly, your voice barely a whisper.

Benny’s grin widens, a knowing glint in his eyes. “There’s a first time for everything,” he says, his voice dropping to a soft murmur. “Didn’t have any trouble learning how to play pool,” he adds, his gaze slowly looking you over, lingering on you with a heated intensity.

The hint of seduction in his words makes your knees weaken slightly, your heart racing as you nod shyly, completely captivated by the effortless charm in his voice.

Cal, glances at Darlene. “I can take you, too, if you’re game,” he offers with an easygoing smile.

Darlene doesn’t miss a beat, grinning as she says, “Sounds like fun! Sure, why not?” Her carefree attitude puts you a little more at ease, though your heart still races with anticipation.

Benny’s gaze lingers on you, his smile softening. “You’ll be alright with me.” He promises and the protective edge in his voice makes you quickly nod as you look up at him.

After closing out the tab, he brings you in close pulling his leather jacket on to you, the scent of leather with the faint hint of him surrounding your presence.

“Can’t have you catching a chill, sweetheart,” he says with a smile, his voice low and smooth as his eyes lock onto yours, causing a surge of warmth to rush through you at the unexpected gesture.

He leads you outside as the damp night air settles around you, still heavy from the rain. You follow him to his motorcycle, a black, metallic shiny thing with chrome glinting in the low light. It’s unlike anything you’ve seen before—sleek, powerful, like it could tear down the road without a second thought.

Benny moves with a natural confidence effortlessly swinging his leg over the bike, settling into place with ease. When he kick-starts the engine, it roars to life, the low, rumbling sound vibrating through the air, sending a thrill straight through you.

He turns, offering his hand with a calm smile.

“Come on, sugar,” he says, his voice smooth and reassuring. His hand is warm as you take it and your heart is pounding as you climb onto the bike behind him wrapping your arms tightly around his waist. The feel of his solid body beneath your touch makes you feel safe, despite the wild excitement racing through you.

His sleeveless tee does little to conceal the firm, hard muscle beneath your fingertips, heightening your awareness of his strength as you hold him tighter, feeling every movement of his powerful body under your grasp.

You glance over and watch as Darlene climbs onto the back of Cal’s bike with an eager smile, and soon both bikes rumble to life as you all take off into the night.

The engine hums beneath you, the power of it reverberating through your body as the wind whips around your face. The lights from the town blur past, the wet streets reflecting everything like a mirror.

The sensation of being so close to Benny—feeling the wind whip around you, his warmth steady in front of you as the bike rumbles under your legs—leaves you breathless. You feel a wild, exhilarating sense of freedom, like you’re untethered from everything as you speed through the cool, rain-soaked air.

Benny slows the bike as you near the motel, the rumble of the engine softening as he pulls into the lot and the bike rolls smoothly to a stop.

You tighten your arms around his waist reluctant to let go. The warmth of his body against yours, the security of his presence, makes you want to stay just like this for a little longer.

He shuts off the engine, and the sudden quiet is almost startling after the roar of the ride. His hand rests on yours as he turns his head, glancing back at you.

“You alright?” he asks softly, the corners of his mouth lifting into a small smile. His voice is calm, reassuring, but there’s something deeper in his gaze, as if he can feel the reluctance in your hold and you nod to him not quite ready to let go.

Darlene and Cal arrive, pulling up beside you, and you feel a wave of dismay as you realize the ride—and Bennys closeness—is coming to an end. With a soft sigh, you release him from your grasp.

Benny swings his leg off the bike and turns to help you down. His grip is strong, his hands firm as they steady you, and you cling to him, not wanting to let go, feeling so small and delicate in his protective hold.

When he gently places you on the ground, his hands linger a moment longer than they should, and your fingers instinctively tighten around his firm biceps.

Your eyes are soft, pleading for more as he gazes down at you. A knowing smile tugs at his lips feeling the same pull that you do, an unspoken connection between you both, drawing you closer without a single word.

“I’ll go book two separate rooms for us,” Darlene suddenly announces, giving you a playful knowing look that makes your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

It’s clear what she’s insinuating, and the fact that she said it right in front of Benny makes your face flush even hotter.

You step back from him, your mind swirling with the implications. You’ve always been the good girl, careful and cautious, and now standing so close to him, you’re not sure how to navigate the feelings rushing through you.

As Darlene heads inside to handle the rooms, you stand there awkwardly, feeling a nervous flutter in your stomach.

Benny breaks the tension with an easy smile. “Don’t worry,” he says, his voice low and warm.

“Maybe tomorrow we can grab some breakfast before you get your car sorted?” he suggests, and you can hear the a hint of reluctance in his voice.

His deep blue eyes lock onto yours, filled with the all the unspoken desire that lingers between you both, the weight of what you both want growing stronger, though neither of you says a word.

He steps closer, his chest almost brushing yours as he reaches for his jacket. His fingers graze your skin, starting at your shoulder, the touch slow and deliberate. His fingertips linger just a moment too long as they trail down your arm, sending a wave of heat rushing through you.

His touch ignites something deep inside, a warmth that spreads through your skin, making you ache for more. His movements are unhurried savoring every second of pulling the leather from your body.

As he slides the jacket off, you instinctively wrap your arms around yourself and it’s not just the chill that makes you do it—it’s the sudden vulnerability you feel leaving Benny.

As you look up to him his eyes are darkened with an intensity you’ve never known and in that moment, you’re completely captivated by him, your mind racing with the thought of whether or not you should invite him to stay the night.

Before you can make up your mind, Darlene returns, holding two room keys in her hand.

“Goodnight, boys,” she says with a wink, clearly enjoying the situation far more than you.

“Thanks for the fun,” Cal says, giving Darlene a grin and Benny smoothly pulls on his jacket as Cal mounts his bike.

“Meet you back at the bar,” Cal says with a casual nod, and Benny acknowledges him with a quick gesture before Cal rides off into the night.

Darlene hands you your key with a playful smile. “See you in the morning,” she whispers, the teasing tone unmistakable as she heads toward her room, leaving you standing there, undecided.

Benny’s eyes never leave you as he walks toward his motorcycle.

“I’ll see you tomorrow before you go,” he says, his voice steady and calm, but you can’t shake the lingering feelings you have for him.

You hesitate, watching him as he mounts his bike, and just before he kick-starts it, something inside you shifts. Without thinking, you call out, “Benny, wait!”

He pauses, placing his foot back down as he looks at you, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yeah?” He asks his voice is warm and inviting.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you swallow your nerves, glancing down at the key in your hand.

“I was just… thinking,” you begin, your voice soft and shy. “Maybe… you could stay for a little while? I mean, if you’re not too tired.”

Benny dismounts his bike, a confident smile playing on his lips as he approaches. His hand reaches out, gently cupping your chin, tilting your face up until your eyes meet his.

“You sure about that, sugar?” he asks, his voice low and smooth, carrying a hint of challenge.

“Because I’d be more happy to stay, just as long as I know I’m not rushing you into anything.” He confirms his thumb brushing lightly across your chin.

You nod, feeling the warmth of his touch against as your nerves begin to fade.

“I’m sure Benny,” you respond with a reassuring smile spreading across your lips.

“Alright then,” he says softly, leaning in just enough so you can feel the warmth of his breath on your lips, “Lead the way.”

You grin and head toward your room with Benny following close behind. The sensation of his presence making your heart pound in your chest as the quiet anticipation lingers in the air.

When you unlock the door and step inside, the atmosphere shifts as you look around the quant motel room feeling a quiet intimacy that fills the space.

Benny enters after you, the door closing softly behind him, and he quietly locks it.

As you turn to face him the warmth of Benny’s presence so close makes your heart pound in your chest. His eyes linger on you with an unspoken understanding, as if he already knows what you’re about to say.

You swallow hard, feeling a little self-conscious, before finally admitting,

“I… I’ve never done anything like this before.”

Benny’s smile widens, his blue eyes lighting up with a mixture of affection and amusement.

“I know,” he says softly, his voice as smooth as velvet.

There’s something about the way he says it, the gentle confidence in his words, that makes your heart beat faster causing your face to flush.

He reaches out, brushing the back of his hand lightly against your cheek, his touch sending a wave of warmth through you.

His gaze is intense, filled with affection and something deeper—something that has you both nervous and thrilled all at once.

He leans in until his lips hover just near yours, the space between you charged with anticipation and then he kisses you. His lips press on yours soft, and unhurried savoring every second.

His hand gently cups your face with his lips warm against yours, each subtle touch kiss leaves you completely captivated, your breath catching as the arousal begins to stir deep inside.

His tenderness makes you feel lightheaded and breathless, completely drawn into him, completely lost. And then, just as you begin panting into his mouth he pulls away, leaving you trembling, lightly breathless, with your lips still warm from his touch.

He leans in, his breath warm against your ear as he speaks in that smooth, deep voice of his.

“Why don’t you get out of those wet clothes for me sugar?” he suggests softly, his tone gentle but firm, as if he’s already certain you’ll listen to him.

You look up to him and hesitate for a brief moment, feeling a flush creep up your cheeks, but there’s something about the way he says it that makes you nod quietly.

There’s no pressure, no urgency in his voice—just a gentle suggestion, and you find yourself readily obeying him.

You look up at him through your lashes, feeling both shy and cautious as you pull down the sleeves of your damp dress.

Benny leans back against the door, watching you with a soft smile, his eyes never leaving you for a second.

His gaze isn’t overbearing, or insistent, instead it’s filled with a desire that makes you feel entirely wanted.

“Don’t be shy,” he smiles seeing you pause not letting your dress fall lower than your chest.

His words make your heart flutter, and with a deep breath, you pull your dress down to your waist, hooking your thumbs into your panties and stepping out of them.

As your clothing drops to the floor you kneel down, slipping off your socks and shoes as your bare feet sink into the plush carpet of the room.

You can feel the heat of his gaze as you stand up in front of him. Now completely naked your hands tremble slightly, the cool air mixing with the excitement rushing through your body and you Instinctively look down, too shy to meet his eyes.

“That’s better,” Benny says with approval, stepping closer. You can feel the warmth of his presence as his hand finds yours, pulling you gently to him. His other hand rests lightly on your waist, the simple touch making your heart race all over again.

“Look at me,” he whispers, his fingers softly tilting your chin up, guiding your gaze to meet his and intensity in his blue eyes draws you deeper into the unspoken desire that lingers for him.

“Not like you to fall for someone like me, is it?” he smiles, his hand sliding up your back, pulling you into his embrace.

“Never…” you whisper, your voice barely audible as you look into the depths of his eyes, falling harder for him with each passing second.

“First time for everything,” he whispers, his lips brushing against yours before capturing them in a kiss that melts all your nervousness away in an instant.

His lips are warm, soft as his mouth moves against yours, and this time a soft whimper escapes you as he deepens the kiss.

The simple sound ignites something in Benny, and his lips move against yours with more intensity, drawing you in until you’re completely caught in his rhythm, your heart pounding wildly in your chest.

Your hands reach up, clutching his shoulders, desperate for something to anchor you as the intensity of his kiss steals your breath away.

His hands begin to explore you, trailing down your back before settling on your curves, his firm grip igniting a heat that spreads through your core.

You can feel your arousal building, warm and slick between your thighs. Your mind races, trying to keep up with the emotions flooding through you, but all you can focus on is him—his touch, his kiss, the way he makes everything else fade away.

He pulls back just enough for you to catch a small breath, his lips barely an inch from yours, yet you’re already aching for more. “You want me?” he asks, his voice low, laced with an edge that makes your heart race even faster.

You nod, unable to speak, your voice caught in your throat as the rush of emotions and desire collide within you.

He grins, seeing the way you tremble, and without breaking eye contact, he shrugs off his jacket pulling up his tee and revealing the hard, sculpted muscles of his chest and abs.

His body is powerful, each line carved and defined, and the sight of him leaves you slack-jawed,

You’ve been wanting to see him like this all night, and now that he stands before you, your eyes widen in delight, taking in every inch of him.

“Don’t be shy,” Benny grins, stepping closer, guiding your hand to his chest. “Feel me,” he urges softly, his voice calm and commanding.

His hand covers yours, encouraging you to explore him and your fingers glide down the hard planes of his abs his muscles flexing slightly under your touch.

The sensation of his strength beneath your fingertips sends a wave of heat rushing through you, making your breath hitch.

He steps back, his eyes never leaving yours, the intensity of his gaze locking you in place as he leans down to unlace his boots and setting them aside.

When he stands back up, his gaze is even more intense, every movement deliberate as his fingers undo the button of his jeans making your heart races with anticipation.

He pauses lowering the zipper, a mischievous gleam in his eyes as he looks at you, savoring the moment and drawing it out.

“You sure you’re ready for this?” he asks his voice teasing and seductive like velvet as it wraps around you.

“Yes, Benny,” you breathe, your eyes flicking up to his, your chest rising and falling rapidly, charged with desire.

A slow smirk forms on his lips as he watches you, and with a practiced ease, he slides his jeans down exposing his long, hard cock as your eyes go wide.

It’s big — even bigger than you expected, the sheer size overwhelming you.

You chest tightens with nervousness, as you quickly look away feeling the heat rush to your face.

Benny reaches out, gently guiding your chin back to him. “Eyes on me, sugar,” he says, his voice low and commanding as he holds your gaze steady. “This is all for you,” he assures and his words are so certain, they leave you speechless.

He pulls a condom from his jeans and tears it open, drawing your eyes back down to his cock.

With practiced ease, he positions the condom at the tip, his fingers expertly rolling it down over his girth all the way to the base.

The way his cock stands, so heavy and full, sends a throb straight to your core and you try not to stare, but it’s impossible not to.

Your eyes take in every detail, the thickness of it, the way his skin stretches over the veins, how firmly it extends in his grip,

A flicker of nervousness runs through you, the thought of what’s coming next makes your body tense with both excitement and hesitation.

Benny notices the shift in your expression and smiles softly, leaning in close his hands moving to cradle your neck. “We’ll take it as slow” he promises, his voice gentle as he caresses you his thumbs tracing down the delicate lines of your neck.

You take a deep breath, feeling your heart race from his words as you slowly nod.

He moves gently as he guides you to lay down on the bed, the linen sheets soft against your skin. He follows your movements, his body just above as he climbs on top, the bed dipping under his weight.

His fingers trace the curve of your cheek, down your neck, and then settle on your waist. He takes his time, letting you feel the warmth of his body as he slowly settles down on top of you.

“You alright?” he asks his voice soft and reassuring as his thumb strokes your hip and his eyes meet yours, filled with a quiet confidence that sets you at ease.

“Yes, Benny,” you nod, finding your voice barely above a whisper and the way you breathe out his name makes his lips quirk into a small smile.

“Good” he says as his hand slides down to your thigh, giving a gentle squeeze.

He leans in close, kissing the corner of your mouth, then your jaw, his lips lingering there, savoring every touch.

He slowly nudges your legs apart, his movements patient and deliberate as his fingers push in between them causing a jolt of to pleasure shoot through your core.

The slickness of your arousal coats his fingers as he slips the them over your folds and he spreads your wetness with soft strokes making moan in pleasure.

His lips brush against your jaw in reverence as he feels how wet you for him, a satisfied hum vibrating through his chest.

His thumb grazes your clit in just the right way, with a teasing pressure making your breath hitch, and he explores further, feeling the tension in your body melt under his touch.

He slips one finger inside feeling your walls adjust and then slowly adds another. He begins stretching you with a slow, gentle rhythm the sensation overwhelming—tight and warm, coaxing deep moans from your lips with each stroke.

The pressure of his fingers inside you builds with every thrust, steady and sure making your whole body arch from the bed, quickening with every gasp that escape from your lips.

His eyes never leave yours, watching your every reaction, every breath, every flutter of your eyelids, memorizing the way you respond to him.

“That’s it sweet heart,” he whispers, his voice like a low purr, as his thumb presses into your clit with just enough pressure to make you moan and tremble beneath him. “Gonna work you open nice and slow for me” he whispers, his breath warm as it mingles with your own.

You can hear your wetness slicking between your thighs, as his fingers work a rhythm that feels achingly perfect.

“You ready for me?” he asks as his fingers moving in just the right way, making you arch against him even more as he pushes into you deeper.

You gasp from the depth of his fingers as you hesitate, your body unsure, already overwhelmed by the sensations he’s giving, not certain if you can take any more.

“I-I don’t know if I can,” you manage to say, your voice breathless, trembling under his touch.

Benny presses a slow, tender kiss to your neck, his thumb circling your clit again with practiced ease. “Yes you can sugar,” he whispers, his voice low tempting. “and just so you know with out a doubt, I’m gonna make sure you’re begging for it” he says with certainty.

You feel his fingers begin to work firmer inside of you, each thrust deliberate, coaxing a deeper response from your body. His words a promise, as you begin to moan in pleasure completely unraveling beneath him.

Benny grins, his lips finding your neck as he softly kisses the delicate skin there. “You starting to feel it aren’t you.“ he hums, his voice affectionate as he moves lower, his lips wrapping around your nipple, sending a new wave of pleasure through your body.

His tongue flicks gently over your sensitive skin, and your body arches instinctively, surrendering to his touch. He sucks gently making you arch into him, as his fingers never stop coaxing more of your wetness.

Your body reacts in ways you can’t control, your thighs softly tremble as your chest rises and falls with uneven breaths. Your legs part instinctively under his touch, your thighs slick with the evidence of your desire.

A deep moan escapes your lips as he sucks harder, on your nipple his tongue flicking against you in a way that leaves your body craving more.

Your fingers clutch the sheets, your body writhing under the slow build of pleasure he’s giving. Your hips moving on their own, lifting towards him as your body seeks him out, needing more.

No longer unsure, your desperate for more of him feeling and emptiness you know only he can fill. You moan for him your chest heaving as the pleasure builds tighter inside you.

“Benny!” You whine feeling all the sensation build inside you at once, the warmth starting deep in your core and radiating outward, leaving you flushed and trembling.

Benny stops, his lips hovering over your nipple as he gazes up at you,. “You’re ready for me now, aren’t you?” he asks his tone heavy with desire

“Yes I’m ready ” you quickly pant your body trembling with need.

He wraps his had along the base of his cock and you gasp as you feel his large tip push against you, the size making you softly moan as he uses your wetness to coat it.

“Gonna give you a taste“ he says slipping the tip inside pulling back just enough to make your body pulse with a desperate need for more.

“There you go,” he says, his voice a soothing as he grips your thigh, steadying you. “Feels good doesn’t it?,” he breathes.

You can feel his cock twitch in your impossibly tight walls and you nod feeling the pleasure radiating through you racing with the beat of your heart. You want more of him the anticipation almost too much to bear.

“Take me all the way” you say craving it and he responds moving his hands to your hips as he slowly, gently pushes his hips forward, inch by inch, guiding his large cock into you until you suddenly cry out, feeling an intense ache.

“Benny!” you whine, trembling as your nails dig into his arms, losing your mind as you feel him stretching you apart. You shudder and moan uncontrollably, pushing against him. “You’re… you’re … my first!” you finally cry out unable to hide your secret anymore feeling like he might break you.

Benny slows his penetration a big smile forming on his lips. “I know, sugar,” he says, his voice like velvet, his words soothing the intensity of the pain building inside you.

“Y-you Knew?” You say in shock and his hand reaches your face stroking your hair back.

“From the moment I laid eyes on you.” He says softly. “The way you looked at me like I could solve every problem in the world.” He grins his eyes soft.

“Why’d you think I went along with what you wanted?” He asks studying your reaction.

Your eyes study his face stunned realizing what you’ve gotten yourself into.

“Benny….… I do want you, I want you so much …but …. I didn’t think it was would hurt so much” you confess and his face lights up as he holds his laugh seeing how serious you are.

“It won’t hurt for long” he says looking at you affectionately. “I promise” he says in a way that eases your worry.

“Just let me take you all the way just like you wanted” he says, his voice sure and you nod swallowing hard.

Your breath hitches, a soft moan escaping your lips as he sinks deeper into you, every inch of him filling you slowly, leaving your body completely at his mercy. You begin to pant and he kisses you trying to take your pain.

You’re impossibly tight, squeezing him hard as he pushes into you further, and he brings his thumb to gently stroke your clit, coaxing you to relax. “You’re doing so good” he whispers, his voice velvety and soothing “just relax and let me in.”

You lift your hips instinctively as he slowly fills you up, and you whine through the stretch as your fingers dig into his back.

“That’s it” he whispers. His cock twitches, and you see him bite down on the inside of his lip, holding himself back. It aches in you, but the pain dulls as Benny lets you get used to the fullness inside you.

You softly whimper as he presses a kiss to your forehead. “It’s all gonna feel better now,” he whispers, slowly dragging his cock out of you.

You tilt your hips, opening yourself to accept more of him as he pushes in again, filling you to the hilt.

You moan wrapping your arms around his shoulders burying your face in his neck as his cock pulls back once more. “Just like that,” he praises, his voice deep with satisfaction as he thrusts into you.

He takes you again, and again each time he groans in your ear, his voice filled with satisfaction.

You pull your face from his neck to meet his gaze. His blue eyes lock onto yours as he pulls out and pushes back in, the connection between you intensifying. You hold onto his neck, your fingers digging into his shoulders, feeling the tension in his body as he builds a steady rhythm inside you.

All you can do is moan from the overwhelming sensation as it begins to feel so good it brings tears to your eyes, your pleasure spilling over uncontrollably.

Hearing your moans, he grins, “Gonna make you come now ,” he says, moving faster, his pace quickening as his fingers grip your waist, guiding your body as his hips roll against yours, each thrust hitting deeper, more intoxicating.

The pain that once existed is gone, overtaken by the ecstasy of his thrusts. You feel completely satisfied, filled with his thick cock driving into you with purpose. He maintains a quick rhythm, his body pressing into yours as your mind drifts into euphoria. You had no idea you could feel this way—so much pleasure flooding every inch of you at once.

You’re moaning freely, the intensity overwhelming as your body begins trembling, your mind lost to the sensations. “There it is ,” he pants, snapping his hips against yours, his voice rough with need as you take every inch of him.

Suddenly, you feel it—the wave building deep inside you, tightening your core, making your entire body quake. Your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, your walls fluttering around him as you cry out, completely lost in the moment.

He groans loudly as your body grips him tight, and with one final thrust, he joins you, his release hitting hard as he spills into the condom. His hips jerk against you, his groans mixing with yours as both of you ride out the aftershocks together.

He collapses gently on top of you, his chest rising and falling rapidly against yours, his breath warm on your skin. You lay there, stunned, your body still trembling as you try to catch your breath. The room growing quiet except for the sound of your soft breaths together.

After a few moments, you find your voice, soft and unsure. “Are you ever going to come to Wisconsin or Michigan State?” you ask, your voice small and vulnerable, reeling from what just happened.

He peeks up at you, his blue eyes sparkling with that familiar teasing look. “I’m thinking about never letting you leave Chicago,” he grins and his lips press against yours in a soft kiss, a newfound promise lingering between you both.

He rolls onto his back, pulling you close against him, wrapping his arm securely around you, holding you in place. Your hand rests gently on his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing. You bury your face against his neck, inhaling deeply, the familiar scent of him soothing you as your eyes flutter closed, and sleep finds you quickly, wrapped in the comfort of Bennys embrace.

The next morning, you awaken, your eyes blinking slowly as you take in the quiet room. The bed beside you is a mess of tangled sheets, and as you sit up, a sudden pang of panic grips your chest. Benny is gone. The absence of his presence makes the room feel colder, emptier, and your heart sinks as the realization settles in.

A soft, saddened sound escapes your lips, barely more than a whisper as you sit there, staring at the rumpled sheets, replaying the night before in your mind. It had felt so real, so intimate—how could he just leave?

“I’m so stupid!,” you mutter under your breath, cursing yourself for letting your guard down, for hoping he’d be there the next day.

Quickly, you throw the covers back and swing your legs over the edge of the bed, a knot of disappointment twisting in your stomach.

You stand up and head straight to the shower, trying to shake off the feeling, but the emptiness you feel clings to you like a shadow.

Once in the shower your body aches, a dull soreness reminding you of everything that happened last night, and as the hot water cascades over your skin, warm tears mix with the water, falling down the drain. No matter how hard you try to stop, you can’t shake the trembling in your body, a mix of emotions overwhelming you.

After what feels like forever, you step out of the shower, wiping the fog from the mirror to reveal your reflection. “Stupid stupid good girl ” you whisper to yourself, the words biting as you turn away from the image in front of you.

You dry off as you head back to the bedroom, slipping into your now-dry clothes, that you realize were placed on the heater as you slept and the sadness lingers.

Suddenly, there’s a knock at the door. Your heart leaps in your chest, pounding wildly as you rush to answer it, ready to spill everything to Darlene. The disappointment, the confusion—all of it.

When you swing the door open, you freeze. There, standing in front of you, is Benny, a soft smile on his lips, holding two bags with breakfast.

The sight of him makes your mouth fall open in shock. For a moment, you can’t believe it—he didn’t leave.

Before you can even process what’s happening, you let out a relieved squeal and jump into his arms, wrapping yourself around him.

Benny chuckles softly, catching you easily as his arms come up to hold you close.

“Aww, sugar,” he murmurs softly, holding you close as you gasp for breath,shaking with emotion trying to hold back tears.

He shushes you gently, his arms strong and comforting as he carry’s you in and sets you down on the bed, his smile warm and reassuring.

”l-I..I thought you left” you choke out.

“I’m right here, baby. I wouldn’t just leave you,” he says softly, kissing the top of your head.

You hug him again, so relieved to have him there. He pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes soft and sincere. “I wasn’t going anywhere,” he says gently, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “I just went to grab us some breakfast.”

Benny opens one of the bags, pulling out a breakfast sandwich and handing it to you. Without hesitation, you begin to eat it realizing just how hungry you are. The roller coaster of emotions leaving you famished.

“You were hungry,” Benny smiles, his thumb brushing your cheek as you finish your meal and you rest back on the bed, feeling sated as a sigh escapes your lips.

After a while, Benny glances over at you, a more serious expression softening his features.

“I want you to be my girl,” he says, and you pause, your heart skipping a beat as the words sink in.

“Benny, how?” you ask, your voice soft, a mix of surprise and hope. “You live here, and I’m going back to school at Michigan State after spring break in Wisconsin ”

Benny lays down next to you taking your hand in his.

“I’ll come to Wisconsin,” he says firmly, his eyes locking with yours, filled with sincerity. “Every chance I get, I’ll be there and When you’re back in school, I’ll visit you whenever I can. It won’t be easy, but I’m not letting this go.” He says and his words hit you hard, the weight of them wrapping around your heart.

He’s serious—there’s no teasing or hesitation in his voice now, just a solid promise.

He gently takes your chin in his hand, lifting your face to meet his eyes. “I’ll even go with you to Wisconsin now if you’ll have me,” he says softly, sincerity and warmth flooding his voice.

Your eyes light up with excitement, as an overwhelming joy fills you. Without a second thought, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into a kiss, full of emotion.

“Yes, Benny!” you exclaim breathlessly against his lips, your heart swelling with happiness. He grins, pulling you close as he returns the kiss, his arms tightening around you.

The thought of taking him to your hometown, spending two weeks together, fills you with so much excitement that you’re practically shaking.

You rest against him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest, your heart full and content. Benny’s your boyfriend now, and everything feels right—exactly how it’s supposed to be.

🏍️ The End 🏍️

🔗 Master List

🏍️ Benny Cross Tag List 🏍️

@ashleybutler @finley-08 @ifuckindontknow @landlockedmermaid77 @jvanilly @oceanablue @12joeywheelerfangirl @autumnleaves1991-blog @presley1992 @rose-deathman @sillylittlethrowaway @lillypink @faephoria @nostalgichoya

🏷️ Always Tags Me List 💌

@purejasmine @faegoddessog @burnthheparaphilia @lindszeppelin @abswifey @ausssbutlershortstories @magicovento @obsessedvibee @austiebuttbutt @jessica987 @oh-my-front-door @slowsweetlove @hardcoredisneynerd @thegabbyh @thefallofthedamned @buckysteveloki-me @bucking-mustangs-with-wings @shegatsby @darlingisntit @unicoreads @lovereadingfanfic @elvismylove04 @denised916 @shockercoco @minispice-1 @meetmeatyourworst @avidreader73 @jkdaddy01 @xxmandaveexx @mamawiggers1980 @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @majestyjade @gravesdiggergirl

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bengiyo · 2 days

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Hello 👋

All of your favorite horniest sex scenes?

Hello! I've been busy, so this has taken forever to get to!

I don't always need the guys to bounce around on each other and gyrate enthusiastically for it to out as horny. Oftentimes, I find myself more drawn in by the building desire between the characters, and the explicit acknowledgement of release. I like when the sex feels like it's also revealing something to us about the characters. I've highlighted many of these before, but it's fun to revisit.

Ghost Host, Ghost House Episode 4 Couch Scene

youtube

I will never get over this scene, and especially the director's cut of it. These guys knew they liked each other almost instantly, and it was so rewarding to see them reach a place where they could express that. Bonus points for discussing the logistics of gay sex.

This show has been on Gaga and YouTube for a while, but it's also now available on Viki!

La Pluie Episode 6 Floor Scene and Episode 7 Bed Scene

I liked this scene so much that I wrote about it. Again, there's a lot of anticipation between these two, and you can tell how far it's built up because Patts has to dial it back down when Saengtai wants to stop. It's especially important to me because Saengtai does blow Patts in the next episode. If you're on iQIYI, there's an extended cut of that at the end of the video lists.

Mood Indigo: The Post-Funeral Scene

These two are so horrible for each other, but damn are their sex scenes compelling. Theirs are the kinds of scenes only possible between two people you know can never work long term. I was so glad that we got back to Haruhiko in Playback, and the first thing he did was blow Rio in a car. If you haven't seen the Novelist, and you're itching for hornier BL, it's right there.

The End of the World With You "You're Soaked"

From the same team as The Novelsit, we got to experience baby's first fuckboy in this incredible show. Again, I love when we get scenes with couples who aren't ready to work, because they're allowed to have raunchier sex. They get to amp the intensity of the physicality because they need to give a reason why someone was so caught up and missed the warning signs. I actually love the car scene later as a more romantic intimacy scene, but we're focusing on horny here.

Jack o' Frost Birthday Sex

A common theme here with the Japanese offerings is that people are allowed to have more interesting sex scenes right before they split. This is true even in Jack o' Frost. We get a really great oner from the leads that precedes their breakup and Ritsu's accident. I think this might be my favorite of this list because the actors have to build the entire scene together since there aren't any cuts.

Gameboys 2 Bed Scene

Cairo and Gav are one of my favorite pandemic couples we got on screen, and I was quite relieved for them when they finally got to have this moment. We also confirmed they switch, and I love that.

Wedding Plan: Namnuea Showing Off His Stamina

No list for me would be complete without including them. I really loved seeing two gay men go at it after clearing out all of their misunderstandings. They had already had sad goodbye sex. It was thrilling to see them having enthusiastic, athletic sex. This also leads directly to one of my favorite emotional payoffs for a closeted character of all time.

Kiseki: Dear to Me Reunion

The second couple stole this show, but damn if I didn't love the way these two played out sex across multiple years between their characters. These two really suffered, and I really love the way Taro Lin and Hsu Kai captured the changes between these two as Bai Zong Yi grew and matured. This really was a solid sex scene.

Love Class 2: Sungmin and Joo Hyuk

I just really wanna thank them for reassuring me that if Korea wanted to, they could deliver.

Sleep With Me Jeans Scene

I am not a lesbian, but I share their beliefs. This scene was so good. I loved that these two, who have different kinds of disabilities, were able to have a very fun sex scene. I really like when it's clear both characters want to be there.

Only Friends: Boston and Top in the Car

Despite my eventual disdain for this show, I was impressed with Neo and Force for giving this incredibly selfish sex scene between their characters. This entire scene is about injured egos, and it's a standout scene from this show. We won't discuss the rest of the show here.

Thanks for the ask!

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argumate · 22 hours

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if I google for a really basic Tech Tip like I dunno, where are the wifi settings or something, and I get back a list of tiktok videos in response I will-- well I won't kill anyone, I mean realistically I'll make a tumblr post about the fact that I won't kill anyone, but the fact that I feel compelled to clarify that killing someone is not on the table even in this scenario already says something, I think.

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daincrediblegg · 16 hours

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I think what’s really just utterly compelling and really kindof beautiful about the whole James Fitzjames DNA confirmation is just how beautiful this intersection between history and the artistic mirror that we hold up to it coming together to celebrate this discovery is in a way breathing some life and even peace back into this person.

Like… I feel like a lot of the time we as a culture when we hear about the discovery of new artifacts, remains, remnants of history in any form, we have enough distance to it to accept the mysteries that we will never be able to reconcile about them. Like digging up folks who perished in pompeii, we may never know who exactly they were, what kinds of people they were. Who they loved, what they loved doing will remain as intangible to us as what they looked like. And it becomes harder with so many of those pieces missing to look at those bones and have any sense of certainty who they really were.

But we DO know James Fitzjames. In SO many ways. We know him because there isn’t just copious historical documentation on his life, the things he wrote, the things he did in his life the ramifications on the people he loved when he was lost, but also this weird little show that inexplicably gives us both a window into the unimaginable circumstances that led to his death alongside that of over a hundred other men, but also a mirror through which so many of us have been able to empathize deeply with the weight of those circumstances.

In that way we do really know who he was. And now he’s not merely a single jaw in an unprecedented pile of bones anymore, he has an IDENTITY again. And it’s taken so long and so many generations but we FOUND him. We had a tangible historical grasp on him already and it feels so much more personal now that we know exactly where he died. To know a rough time frame in which he perished. To know that circumstantially he was probably one of the first consumed in what was easily one of the most dire survival situations of his century- perhaps even ours. It’s closure and peace and relief for an individual that is still so cared for even though there are centuries between the time when he died and us and the circumstances in which we live. And from this information there is STILL more we can piece together for so many of the other individuals who were with him.

And we have all of that, all because of something as simple as a DNA test. That is one of the most beautiful things I have ever fucking seen.

#anyway I love it here #james fitzjames #I’m genuinely so deeply in awe with this discovery and the energy with which people have met it today and THAT is going to make me cry #I hope we get to do this every now and again. I hope more remains get identified and we learn more and can continue to bring some closure #and some peace to these souls that have been lost for so long #happy jfj discovery day everybody I gotta go to bed

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ovaryacted · 1 day

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COMPLICATED

─ Javier Peña x fem! reader || WC: 3.2k

SYNOPSIS: You begin to realize Javier's position at the DEA is putting a wedge in your marriage. It was only a matter of time before everything you've built crumbled once you reached your breaking point.

CONTENT/WARNINGS: MDNI/18+. NSFW. ANGST. Established relationship. Javier & Reader are Married. Marriage problems. Arguments & Confrontation. Thoughts of slapping Javi. Mentions to prior sex & intimacy. Javier is falling apart. Self-sabotage. Mentions of religion/faith. Mentions of the DEA & Javi's job. Both Javi & Reader are in Colombia. Reader's occupation is unknown. Spanish dialogue between Javi & Reader. Please proceed with caution if relationship issues/arguments/possible DV are a sensitive topic for you.

Disclaimer: I have not watched Narcos yet. This is all just my interpretation of another aspect of Javier Peña’s character. Therefore, it is not strict to the canon or details of the show.

A/N: I wrote this for @almostfoxglove's Angst Challenge for August and got Javier Peña, so this is what I came up with! I will admit, I rewrote this fic twice because my initial outline changed halfway, so I started from scratch and got this. It is angsty, and I do want to mention that this is a different take on Javier P., because I personally do not characterize him this way but I ventured out of the norm and put him through situations (I love him a lot though). Anyways, I hope you all enjoy. Reblogs, comments, and likes are always greatly appreciated! <3

NAVIGATION | MASTERLIST | AO3

You waited for him, the same way you always did.

Sitting on the couch and staring idly at the TV screen, you tried your hardest to find something to occupy your mind again. The cigarette comfortably sat between the index and middle fingers of your left hand, the weight of the two golden bands on your ring finger enticed you to take another drag.

You always hated how much Javier smoked. The stress from working at the DEA compelled him to go through two packs weekly, an ashtray present in every room of your quaint apartment, probably another on his desk at work. You didn’t predict there would come a time when you’d consider yourself a smoker, much less of cigarettes, despite recalling the multiple times you reminded your husband of how bad they were for his health.

“Those things will kill you before your job does, Javi.”

The irony in your words, a hypocrite of your own making.

You don’t blame him for not listening, either. Now you think you get the appeal of going through the cancer sticks one by one. You crave the high of the nicotine rushing through your veins with every inhale and relieving your jumpy nerves. The peace you’d feel for a few minutes was the only tranquility you could get in the hectic mess of your crumbling life.

You wish you knew how things got to this point.

The years blended throughout your relationship with the charismatic Javier Peña, a fine man you bumped into on your way home and accidentally sent all your groceries falling to the ground. Apologies poured out of your mouth repeatedly, and he bent down to help you clean up your mess, offering to cover the expenses of the ruined food you just bought with a faint smile.

The curl of his lips and the sparkle in his brown eyes bewitched you from the start, and you took the money he offered in your palm before he walked off, your sight trailing down on the cocky sway of his hips and the broadness of his back.

He dwelled in your mind like a phantom, haunting you in your dreams and inhabiting your senses. You didn’t anticipate to bump into him two weeks later while running errands, the smug look on his face at the sight of reencountering you so quickly didn’t go unnoticed. It was a simple conversation, a brief introduction followed by an offer for drinks when you both had time with reassurance that you would meet him under better circumstances.

The rest was history.

Sure, you knew Javier was a busy man, always on the run due to his highly demanding job you didn’t initially know of. From how he carried himself, you gathered he was associated with law enforcement, not from Colombia naturally, but perhaps the United States. You didn’t suppose he’d be affiliated with the federal government of all things, and the thought of what he was doing in the country worried you the first few months of being with him.

But all of your apprehensions about his professional occupation went out the window when you got into bed with him, limbs tangling into the sheets, and hushed promises whispered sweetly in your ear. All you cared about were the words he’d say as he took you every which way, claimed you his all over his apartment when you’d meet him late at night after a stressful work day.

That was the most intimate you knew him, in the throes of passion in which he seemed to be an expert. His hands strung your body with ease, pulling on the invisible red string that connected the two of you whenever his fingers wandered between your thighs. He drank every moan and cry of his name, hips moving against you so reverently others would mistake you for a place of worship.

It was a matter of time before dates turned to sleepovers, and your stay in his life became more permanent when you moved in with him. You didn’t object when he got down on one knee and popped the question you’d been waiting to hear after a year, jumping in your heels with a broad smile and tears streaming down your cheeks once he slipped the ring over your finger.

You never got the wedding you dreamed of since you were little, and you didn’t go on the honeymoon he promised you due to his prior commitments. Instead, you settled on going to a courthouse when you briefly visited Javi’s home in Texas and stayed in his government-covered apartment while in Colombia.

The signs of stress were there from the beginning of the relationship, but the rose-tinted shades you wore were a perfect fit. To you, ignorance was bliss, and you refused to pop whatever abstract bubble you found yourself trapped in with the man you’ve come to know as your partner.

You stuck by him when he needed you most, never opposing him when he sought after you for solace following the close calls he had while chasing down Escobar’s men. You kept your mouth shut when you saw him cleaning up the wounds he hid from you, locking the bathroom door behind him to avoid worrying you to such an extent. You didn’t utter a word when he started coming home later and wouldn’t give you notice, blaming the job and the intricacies of the caseload he was assigned to manage.

“I’m sorry. It’ll get better.”

You wanted to believe him, to think that somehow the craziness that was happening with the business of narcotics in Colombia would be slowing down, and your life would go back to normal, the way it should be. That way of life was gone. Sometimes, you think you’ve never had it to begin with.

You didn’t ask for this. Neither one of you did.

The disconnect between you grew after another close call on a raid, causing your first full-blown argument. The aftermath resulted in harsh kisses and bruises on your thighs from when Javi fucked you hard against the wall, holding you tightly as you scratched down his back. The subsequent times were like that; you could only communicate with him when your bodies engaged in the best way they knew how. All the pent-up frustration was released when he was inside you, groaning apologies and curse words as he filled you to the brim over and over, and you took it with a smile of forgiveness.

At some point along the way, there was no more fun to this game of tension you’ve created to ignore the elephant in the room. Not after the bickering turned into disagreements, your pillowcase growing wet with suppressed tears after a yelling match. The touches turned fleeting, the nights were lonely, and the animosity that wedged itself in your marriage thrived in the dismissive regard you both held for one another.

Your touch burned him more often than not; the last time he caressed you with care was lost to the ravages of his anxiety. All that remained was the past, the memories that you shared before shit hit the fan, and frankly, you don’t think you could take any more of this torture.

The other side of your bed stayed messy and cold, barely catching him when he left in the mornings for work. The caseloads kept piling on, the raids got more personal and farther from home, and the cycle continued to repeat itself. There wasn’t an end in sight, not soon anyway.

Stuck in your thoughts, you missed the instant the front door opened and closed, stubbing out your cigarette in the ashtray on the coffee table. You glanced over to see Javier stepping through the entryway, peeling his leather jacket off and tossing it to the side while holding your gaze momentarily.

“You’re still awake?” Javier asked you, hinting an edge to his voice as he spoke to you.

“Hello to you too,” you responded calmly, asserting your tone. “Couldn’t sleep. Figured I’d wait for you.”

“You don’t need to do that.” Somehow, the faux concern made you chuckle dryly, watching him walk past you to head right for the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of whiskey and leaving his back turned to you.

“And what else do you need me to stop doing?”

Your question forced Javier to pivot and face you, his glass sat on the counter as you observed him. Keeping your distance, you stood on the other side of the kitchen, leaning against the archway and crossing your arms over your chest.

“Tell me. What else do you need me to stop doing, Javier?”

He remembers when you only called him by signature terms of endearment. Baby. Honey. Amorcito; he particularly loved that one. Now, you addressed him by his first name as if it were its own curse word.

“What the fuck do you mean?” he raised an eyebrow as you continued to speak, malice brewing inside as you itched to say the things you’ve kept bottled up.

“It seems you want me to stop everything. You don’t even come home anymore. I forget you live here sometimes,” you said, trying to be sarcastic, but your words were as sincere as they were hurtful.

“I do come home when I can. It’s been busy at w-”

“Work. It’s always about work and your fucking job. Work this, work that. Do you ever get tired of making excuses for yourself?” His eyes narrowed, staring you down as his body became rigid.

“Do you think me going out there every day chasing down these fucking pendejos is a godamn excuse? No estás pensando con claridad.”

“Oh, I’m the one that lacks sense. That’s rich coming from you.” You started to laugh, standing straighter and looking at your spouse vexingly. “You don’t think going down this goose chase with your head cut off to catch Escobar is crazy? Te has vuelto loco, Javi.”

“I do this for you. For us.” You know he’s trying to convince himself of this lie more than you.

“There is no us if you’re not here! You haven’t been here for months! I don’t know shit about you anymore, and this job has turned you into a different person.”

It was wrong to raise your voice at him; the previous quarrels usually passed through intense conversations, and he’d walk out the door to leave you for the rest of the night, but it was never this intense. You think this time would be the dreaded catalyst you’ve prolonged to avoid, and there was no turning back.

“You knew what you were getting into when we started dating. I told you what I do for work, I told you how this was going to be. It’s not fucking easy. You know this.” He took another sip of his whiskey, gulping it down all at once, hoping the buzz would give him the strength to handle the onslaught of words he knew was coming.

“So now it’s my fault that our relationship is falling apart? What? I should’ve known better than to fall in love with you? Should’ve known better than to marry you?” You were inching closer, your hands flailing around as you spoke exasperatedly.

“Yes. Maybe you should’ve known better.”

The only thing that could be heard in the kitchen was the clink of the ice melting in Javi’s glass, reaching a stalemate as you stared at him in bewilderment and heartbreak. You stepped forward to meet him chest to chest, imagining yourself slapping the words clean out of his mouth. You opted for putting your pointer finger under his chin, the tip of your nail grazing the underside of his jaw as rage washed over you.

“You don’t get to say that to me. Not after everything we’ve been through, everything I gave up to stay here with you in Colombia.”

Tears graced your lash line when he looked at you again, your brows creasing as the mask you’ve worn for so long unraveled. You tried to stay the good wife; you did, but you were getting edged closer and closer to the breaking point. Javier wants to be surprised that you found the audacity to confront him like this, but he knows it was what he deserved. Perhaps he deserved worse for what he’s put you through.

“Why can’t you give this up? Why? You know how this is going to end. I’ll hear from Steve that you didn’t make it back from another assignment or worse. All of this and for what? Help me understand, please.” You begged him to see your pain, hoped to see things as he saw them, to understand why he was going to such great lengths to kill a man at the expense of everything else rotting around him.

“It’s complicated. Everything about this is complicated. The last thing I need is for you to get involved in this mess, too.”

“It’s always complicated with you.” You shrugged with a shake of your head, admitting your defeat.

“I sit here and wait for you to come home, and you don’t. You’d rather be out there, doing god knows what, while I stay and twiddle my fucking thumbs waiting for something to happen,” you looked down to the floor, staring at your feet as the emotions swirled inside you, losing control over the storm of their intensity.

“I don’t complain or say anything when you don’t come home. I get it, this is the job, this is what you have to do. But I don’t see you, Javier. You don’t talk to me, you don’t touch me, or even look at me…I don’t want this for us anymore.”

You didn’t think your words were getting through to Javi anyway as he remained quiet, the stinging bitterness festering before was forgotten and replaced by the dull ache of his heart. Hearing you say this to him hurt in ways grazed bullet wounds and rough tumbles to the ground couldn’t amount to. The self-loathing and anger that’s been building inside him after discovering all the corruption of his job settled in the pit of his stomach, bile rising to the back of his throat at the thought of it. He hated this.

“I don’t want this either. I don’t want to keep hurting you…”

I don’t want to lose you.

“Then why do you still do it?” You presented your left hand to hit his line of sight, gesturing to the two rings you wore, the ones he gave you when he swore to love you for the rest of your life. “Does this mean anything to you?”

It means everything to me. You mean everything to me.

The words were too heavy for him to say, refraining from confessing his true thoughts the way he wanted. His lips were sealed, but his eyes confirmed what you already knew. He was just too cowardly to do or say the right thing himself.

“I love you Javier, I do. So much that it pains me, but this is not a life we should be living. Don’t you want more than this?”

Of course, he wanted more. When he slipped that ring on your finger, he had already envisioned the life he had dreamed of with you. A quiet life somewhere in the countryside, away from all of the noise of the government and countries that were running rampant with issues he shouldn’t be responsible for fixing. He saw the distant future, a kid or two running in the yard while you sat on the porch to watch them, a look of peace on your pretty face as you peeked over at him from across the ranch.

A happy home, a happy life. That was what he wanted, what he prayed for.

Javier despises himself for being unable to amount to his dream for both of you. He’s so wrapped up in this nonsense with the DEA that he’s had tunnel vision so profound he can’t see the light anymore.

“I know you’re not going to stop until all of this is finished, I know that. But I can’t do this anymore. So I’m giving you a choice, the DEA or me.” His eyebrows shot up at the sudden ultimatum you’ve proposed to him, eyes growing wide as he comprehended the hand you’ve forced upon him.

“You can’t make me choose this, that’s not how this works. I can’t just drop everything for you, not now when we’re this close. Don’t do this to me, please…” his hands landed on your shoulders, squeezing them to make you rethink what you said before doing something you may regret.

“I don’t want to do this, but I have to,” your eyes met the brown irises you used to spend hours looking at and admiring, the spark in them long gone. “I can’t stay here and watch you destroy yourself, Javi. I love you too much to witness that. Please don’t put me through that.”

Walking away from him and heading to the bedroom, you knew nothing else was left to say. You couldn’t save him, your love couldn’t save him either, and you thought maybe backing him into a corner would knock some sense that he’s been missing.

As you entered your bathroom to look at your reflection, you heard the front door open and close again, exhaling a shuddering breath. He’ll be outside for the night, maybe stop by a bar and drown his sorrows before going to work again as if nothing happened. Your eyes turned bloodshot as you cried, your hands covering your face to muffle your sobs as you sank to the tiled bathroom floor with your back to the wall. You brought your knees to your chest, comforting yourself and hoping something would come in the form of a miracle.

Maybe you’ll wait for him a little longer. Maybe you’ll leave your ring on the dresser with a letter, find your way back to the United States, and rebuild your life, forgetting all about Javier Peña. Maybe there was nothing left to give, nothing left to save. Maybe you just didn’t know what you were doing, and you went over your head.

You prayed for whatever God existed to give you the strength to persevere through this troubling time. In that silent prayer, you wished for the man you still loved to come back home to you, for him to want a better life for himself and to end this torment he continued to put himself through.

Slipping into the empty bed like you’ve done so many times before, you tucked yourself in the sheets that still smelled like him, glimpsing at the window to count the rays of moonlight that peeked through the curtains to help you doze off.

You dreamed that in the morning, you’d wake up to strong arms wrapped around your waist, apologies and promises muttered alongside kisses to your temple as he reclaimed you as his, the way he used to do before all of this. You desired to give him what he wanted, be the person he needed to show him better and save him from himself. But that was wishful thinking.

The man you knew, the man you loved, wasn’t here anymore, and there was no way you could bring him back.

©️ ovaryacted 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Spanish Translation: pendejos - idiots, No estás pensando con claridad - you're not thinking clearly, Te has vuelto loco, Javi - You've gone insane/you’re crazy Javi.

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña smut #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña angst #pedro pascal #pedrohub #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #almostfoxgloveangstchallenge #ovaryacted fics #⋆♱ nic works ♱⋆

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seventeenreasonswhy · 2 days

Text

Super Shy ~ A JWW School-Life Romance Pt. 3

Star Athlete!Wonwoo x Shy Wallflower!Reader

Jeon Wonwoo... THE Jeon Wonwoo is... paying attention to you!?

~1.5k words

Read Part 1 + Part 2

Series content: fluff, first crush plot line, school-life anime vibes, slow burn/yearning, some light angst, classmates to friends to lovers, fem reader, reader is ~*super shy*~ and has low self-esteem, reader is kind of bullied (?), sweetie pie Wonwoo, appearances by Choi Hansol and more!, all characters are in high school so no explicit content (but probably kissing eventually).

My Masterlist

Author’s note: Thank you to everyone who has read, reblogged, and liked this little series so far! This part reveals more about Y/N’s interests and talents, which she’s afraid to share because she is insecure! But not for long with sweet Jeon Wonwoo around. Also she has a fictional younger sister named Daehee (not after anyone in particular, I just like that name). 😉 These two are so innocent and cute, I’m having such fun writing them! Enjoy!!

Taglist: @clownprincehoeshi @soffiyuhh @wonwoos-wineparty @hamji-hae @junniesoleilkth @seokqt @haniinah @yangtyunhannie @cherrylovescheol @lukeys-giggle @cookiearmy @sojuxxi @vixensss @lixisoul99 @mjpark15 @lelsforlino @neivivenaj @blvkkeddcc (lmk if you want to be tagged!)

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+

“Whoa you’re going all out on that, Y/N—”

Your younger sister, Daehee, had come down for breakfast with her bangs still in curlers, wearing her school uniform shirt over her Hello Kitty pajama pants. She was watching you as you concentrated on preparing various dishes at the stove. A thin omelet, grilled shishito peppers, vegetable tempura; it was pretty simple stuff, but you’d developed an urge to create aesthetically pleasing lunches these days.

You couldn’t really explain it, although somewhere in your heart you knew it probably had something to do with Jeon Wonwoo.

For the past week, Jean Wonwoo had been spending lunch on the roof alone with you.

The two of you barely exchanged words, really. Your longest conversation probably lasted only a few minutes. But not for Wonwoo’s lack of trying! You still wondered why he was spending his lunchtime up there at all—even more so why would he keep trying to strike up conversations with you? You guessed he really was just that nice. But every time you were around him you couldn’t help clamming up somehow.

“Are you in any clubs, Y/N?” he’d asked you the other day, between bites of his kimbap.

“Uh, no...” you answered quietly, your nerves frazzled from your total lack of conversational skills.

“None of them appeal to you?”

“Uh, not really that...” you didn’t know how to answer him. You’d ended up just looking at him blankly, like a fool. However, nothing in his facial expression or his tone made you feel like you had to necessarily come up with an answer... But his gaze was intent, and you found it hard to hold onto for more than about three seconds.

“What do you do for fun? To relax?” he followed up breezily, “You’re the class mystery.”

“Um,” the odd self-consciousness you felt at being called ‘the class mystery’ aside, you couldn’t really think of anything to say to him.

Actually, there was one thing that came to mind... but it wasn’t something you’d ever shared with anyone. Your one ‘hobby.’ Though to you it felt more like... squeezing a stress ball. It was what you did when you needed to turn your brain off.

He wants to know what I do to relax?

You couldn’t say what compelled you, but you pulled out your phone and found the photo album you had saved of your miniature paintings.

You worked with acrylic paint on very small canvasses, using very fine, small brushes to create miniature floral designs, portraits, landscapes... Your style was incredibly detailed. You had hundreds of tiny canvasses in little boxes and frames all over your room. You took pictures of most of these tiny paintings when you finished. You had even recorded a couple of time-lapse videos, showing you creating them in fast motion. You’d never felt compelled to create a social media account to display or monetize them, though. You painted because it was what you had done since you were a preteen—the careful, methodical process of dabbing tiny paintbrushes into your carefully mixed colors, getting the tone and shading of a poppy flower’s petal on a tiny scale just right... For you, creating these paintings was like a meditative practice.

By some stroke of inspiration—or insanity—you handed your phone to Wonwoo. His face became visibly more curious as he took your phone carefully in his hands.

“Wowwww,” Wonwoo said, holding the screen closer to his face. He seemed absorbed in your phone—you even caught him zoom in on a few pictures. You could tell he was looking carefully through the album.

“You’re crazy talented!” he said after a while. He sounded genuinely impressed.

“No, haha,” you somehow laughed, coughed, and gasped at the same time, your heart accelerating out of embarrassment from his compliment.

“No, seriously—Y/N, these are really incredible!” he said. “They’re so detailed, and they’re so small! How do you even do that!?” His eyes were glued to your phone screen. A part of you was screaming inside, why on earth you would show these to him!? and urging you to snatch your phone right out of his hand, throw it over the side of the building even. You couldn’t believe that Wonwoo was seeing this, this... habit. And YOU had been the one to show him, of all things!

“I wouldn’t say they’re ‘incredible,’” you said, filling up with more and more anxiety over coming off as bragging or crossing some social boundary that you shouldn’t have crossed.

Wonwoo finally looked up from the screen, looking directly at you instead. You still couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze, but you felt his eyes on you. After a long pause, you dared to glance up at him...

But he quickly looked away from you.

Ugh, I’m probably making him feel like he has to be super nice or something...

“Oh, whoa—a time-lapse?” He said, quickly recovering from the somewhat awkward moment when your eyes had met. But his stumbling across the most recent time-lapse video that you’d made prompted you to snap out of your reverie and bolt to grab your phone out of Wonwoo’s hands.

“Ah, don’t watch that!” you lunged for your phone, but Wonwoo reflexively pulled his hand away, surprised by your reaction but still effortlessly dodging your attempt. He smirked down at you, and your heart almost stopped.

“Why not?” he said, and the deep resonance of his voice made you realize how close your bodies were—you were practically sprawled over him after reaching for your phone, his face just inches from yours...

Your whole body seemed to flush a deep shade of red before you catapulted backward away from him. You could have sworn that you saw that Wonwoo smiling to himself, but you were so flustered and anxious about the way you’d completely invaded his personal space that you couldn’t think straight.

“I won’t watch it,” he said light-heartedly, smiling at you as he tossed your phone back to you. “But you are super talented, Y/N. Painting is such a unique skill, too.”

And just like that, he went back to eating his kimbap like nothing had happened. His relaxed, friendly tone mercifully neutralized the atmosphere, but you just stood there clutching your phone to your chest.

“It’s not that I’m embarrassed,” you started, even though you couldn’t look Wonwoo in the eye, “It’s just—I’ve never shared these paintings with anyone except my family...” Your heart kind of ached for some reason as you said this to Wonwoo, who just continued to look at you in silence. What on earth had compelled you to share that with him?

Agh, say something! You willed for this pause in conversation pass, but it didn’t seem to be budging.

“Thank you for showing me,” Wonwoo said at last. His low, gentle voice seemed to shoot directly into your bloodstream, flushing you an even deeper shade of red than you thought was humanly possible. You looked at him briefly, and something about the way he was looking back at you...

The moment had played over and over again like a movie in your head for the past few days. The directness of his gaze. The rich, sincere quality of his voice. The way he’d smiled to himself... you couldn’t stop thinking of that particular lunch hour.

Standing at the kitchen counter, Daehee watched you dip veggies in tempura batter and toss them in the pot of hot oil on the stove. You let your mind run through the questions it had been asking all week: why was he spending time with you like this? Did he lose a bet? Is there some kind of hidden camera prank you should be wary of? More than that, why was he being so nice?

“Hellooo, earth to Y/N! I said you’re really going to town on your lunches these days,” Daehee tried again to get a rise out of you.

“Oh,” you said, taking the last piece of tempura squash out of the oil. “I just like experimenting.” You weren’t lying, exactly—you did like exploring all kinds of different food and dishes. Cooking was fun to you, different from the calm of painting.

You would be lying if you said that an added bonus wasn’t Wonwoo noticing and complimenting your work.

You liked it when he praised you. It felt like he meant it.

No one could be that good at faking sincerity, could they?

You couldn’t help but hear that small voice in the back of your head, doubting Wonwoo’s intentions.

But he hadn’t done anything other than come up to the roof during lunch this week, mostly just eating in silence with you—the two of you simply looking out at the sky...

But after you had shown him your paintings...

Maybe it was since then that you had started to put more effort into your lunches.

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gilverrwrites · 2 days

Note

yknow, something about dick grayson—golden boy, beloved, etc—falling for the forgotten sionis!reader feels entirely poetic for both of them that I love it so much

Dick Grayson/Sionis!Reader [Post in reference] gah yeah I love them, I'm so glad ya'll are seeing my vision! 💙 Like you said, theirs just something so ✨ about them

Here's a 1000 of fluff/Dick being a simp just cause I was thinking about them today. Like, they're getting ready for their first public event since they told their families; you're so nervous about seeing your father again since he’d snapped at you, telling you (to paraphrase from Roman’s much more colourful language:) no daughter of his would date a Wayne and he didn’t want to see you again until you'd come to you senses, which Dick thought was awfully rich from a man who barely made an effort to see his daughter anyway.

That night Dick is in a bad mood. He hasn’t really enjoyed these functions in years, of late he’d only ever made the effort to go when Bruce had asked him to; the silver lining always being that he might catch a glimpse of you. But you’d insisted on going tonight in order to keep up appearances. It drives him mad that even after everything they put you through, even after they’ve practically cut you out, you’re still trying so hard to please them. Him. Roman. He never deserved you for a daughter, none of them deserved you. But it’s not his call to make, he said he’d support you, whatever your decision and he wholeheartedly intends to keep that promise.

He's adjusting his bowtie in the warped reflection of the toaster for the fourth time when you emerge from the bedroom in a dress he hasn’t seen before, and trust that he remembers every dress he’s ever seen you in. It stops him mid-fold, compelling him to twist on the spot to soak you in. It’s mesh, with a tasteful amount of sparkle, a whole lot of delicate embroidery and it’s a very familiar shade of deep blue to boot.

“Is that new?” He asks, unable to stop his mouth from falling open.

“Um, kinda. New to me. Clarissa from wardrobe let me borrow it.” You explain as you give him a perfectly posed twirl, offering him a better look. The tulle skirt rises as you do so, like you’re his very own fairy princess. “Do you like it?”

“Clarissa from wardrobe.” He muses dreamily as he strides closer, stretching his arms out toward you. You reach back for him, but he dodges your embrace, locking his hands on your waist and hoisting you into the air for another spin. “Remind me to repay her with our firstborn.”

Despite his good humour and admiration. Dick is now actually in a worse mood. You’ve been so stressed the last few days. He both hates and understands how you allow your family to have that kind of power over you. He hates that he has to share you with a room full of pompous old men, and a family that can’t see past their own noses, and now has to do it while you look like that. While all he really wants to do is take you to a real dance hall, or a magic forest full of talking woodland creatures, or hell, back into the bedroom.

“So, that’s a yes?” Your voice is high and giggly as he drops you back onto the floor. Holding tight still, he brings you close to his chest, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck and planting kisses along your collar. This is the most relaxed he’s seen you all day and he wants to make the most of it. Instinctively, your soft hands travel up his back, resting on his shoulders, and he can’t help but rock your bodies side to side as he continues to speckle his affections along your chest.

“Like it, I love it!” He murmurs into your warm skin. You haven’t put on your perfume yet, he can tell. He likes the aroma of your chosen fragrance, but even more, he loves your natural scent, and he relishes it as he works his way up your neck until you’re face to face once more. It’s you who kisses him, decisively planting your soft, painted lips on his and causing him to stop his sway in its tracks. When you pull back and look at him with your brilliant eyes, through those soft lashes, he can’t help but blurt his mind. “Are you sure you want to go to this thing?”

“Oh.” You hesitate, and it’s answer enough but he lets you finish anyway. “Yes… I’m not giving up on my family, or you.”

Your determination is endearing, commendable, and hopefully not as futile as he believes. Accepting Black Mask as his future father-in-law may not be easy, but if you mend that bridge, he’ll make it work. Whatever way he has to. He thinks this as he watches you retract from his arms, he doesn’t let you go however, holding onto your hand and following you back into the bedroom.

You settle at your vanity, clearing up your makeup and Dick crouches behind you. The side of his head rests against yours as he watches your face in the mirror. You try to swat him away, presumably to make whatever finishing touches you need to your make-up, but he refuses to go, grinning ear to ear as he dodges your beauty blender.

Eventually, you give up, starting on the other side instead. He sticks his tongue out in triumph, and you roll your eyes at him despite your begrudging smile.

You turn away from him to search your drawers for something and he notices the top button of your dress has come undone. His touch is gentle as he strokes the back of his knuckle from your nape, down to the hem of the dress, and he grins to himself when his finger evokes a serene sigh from you.

“Welp…” He starts, but you're barely with him, losing yourself to his caress. Your pretty lips jut out in a pout when he halts in order to refasten your button. “Welp, if you change your mind, and wanna go for ice cream on the pier, or, well, do anything else instead; the code is ‘fuck this, let's get out of here’.”

Your pout does not subside, even as he resumes massaging the stress from your muscles. Not until he leans in to kiss your shoulder blade and promises; “Whatever you decide, I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

#anon #thanks for the ask!#dick grayson #dick grayson/reader #dick grayson x reader #nightwing #nightwing x reader #nightwing/reader #sionis reader #reader insert #f reader #gilverranswers #gilverrrambles

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chaifootsteps · 3 days

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Learning that about Stan Pines, wow.

Legit I can't understand how a children's show has better representation (in multiple areas) and is better written, more interesting plot wise, has better and more likable characters (that are all flawed to hell and back I might add, every single one of the Pines family members) that both hazbin hotel and helluva boss combined.

Maybe it's the way Viv is trying to convince us that all of her characters flaws are more 'cool' and edgy (smoking, drinking, sex work. It feels like she romanticizes these behaviors to make her characters more, something...) rather than making likable characters that have flaws.

I don't know, feels weird how bad she handles her storylines when she had so much creative control (at least in the beginning, I don't know how much of that she kept when Amazon picked up hazbin)

Crazy, isn't it? There's another moment from that same site that's more complex and compelling than anything Viv's come up, and it does it in just eight words.

#Anonymous #gravity falls #vivziepop critical #viv stuff #actual blog post #image reply

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writteninlunarlight-years · 24 hours

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The Things I Wanted To Say

This is part two of the story Things I Wish I Got To Say. This is another old one that I must have deleted when I purged my account when I went on hiatus.

You were like any other demon in hell. You were cold and calculating, standoffish and stubborn. It was cute, but I wouldn’t tell you that to your face. I knew you had your set ways in life, and I had mine. I never thought the day would come when I would never see that familiar smile again. Something so cherished in my time by your side that I refused to forget even in my new life.

I thought surely Charlie's magical ideas would never be actual or possible. However, her smile and joy were so contagious that I returned to that hotel countless times to help her achieve her dreams. See, when I died the first time, I was being attacked; in my defense from the attacker, I killed them, and I was cast to hell. It's an odd thing to be considered a sinner, but I wouldn’t change it for the world, especially since I got to see you all those days.

What hurt the most when I left hell wasn’t the sword to my chest or the ringing in my ears. It was knowing I would never see that smile again. That was the worst part of it all, honestly. I got so used to the sound of your static, the buzz of your voice, the joy hanging off your arms.

I still remember when you taught me how to dance. I was horrible at it, I know, but you made me feel like I was the best at it all the same. You made me feel the best at a lot of things, from dancing to cooking. You even let me write scripts for you a time or two.

I still laugh when I remember how I told you ‘I Know’ when you confessed your love for me. Would you believe me if I told you I was just scared you were lying to me? Yet when you held me close after saying it, you washed all those worries away. I was fortunate to be there with you.

I sometimes still wish I listened to you that night when you begged me to run away. Maybe had I listened, I would still be by your side or have seen your smile. Yet I didn’t. Would you like to know why, my love? Because the thought of you dying without me was too heartbreaking to handle. I couldn’t imagine a life without you, yet here I was, making you live without me.

When I arrived in heaven with Pentious, everyone was shocked. These two angels were there, Emily and Sera. One sure looked more happy than the others. However, Pentious and I fought to make Charlie's dream a reality here in Heaven, too…I know she saw me up here when she visited last. Did she tell you I was alive and well?

Do you care I am alive and well?

I wish to see you again, my love…maybe one day, you will be redeemed as well.

To: My Radio Demon

From: Your Doe

A loud banging was heard at my door. I rushed to cover up my desk, and as I made my way to the door, I straightened myself out, whipping my eyes from the tears I let out. Charlie had brought me the letter that Alastor had written in my absence, and I felt compelled to respond even if he would never read it. Opening the door, I see the young Seriphem Emily standing before me with a bright smile. “OH, Y/N, YOU NEED TO COME WITH ME QUICK!”

I laughed. She was always so happy when a new batch of hotel residents was redeemed. She always wanted Pentious or me to be there so we could help them adjust to this new life. “Em, please I…I have had a long day…How about you ask Pentious to go instead.” Though I hated to see her frown, she nodded in sad agreement. I closed the door and returned to my desk, looking at the two letters next to each other. When would Charlie be back to give this to him? Would he even read it? Does he hate me for dying?

As thoughts swam through my head, I recounted the years since my arrival here in Heaven. Looking at all my new photos of my time and journey here, I wondered if my old room in Hell still had those photos from my time there. Charlie said Alastor wouldn’t let a soul into my room once I was gone.

It took a lot of arguing and convincing to get the angels on Charlie's side even after we appeared here in Heaven. Yet I couldn’t be more proud of the progress all of us have made. Smiling, I let more tears fall. I missed you so much. As I let the dam of emotions release, I heard another knock at my door.

I hoped it wasn’t Emily, though I have always been kind; I knew my current temper would rival my old self in Hell. “EMILY GO AWAY I CAN’T GO OUT NOW!”

I had so much sorrow and pleading in my voice that I hoped she understood. Yet the knocking continued, only growing more frantic. I sighed, not even bothering to clear my desk as I made my way to the door. Em had often seen me cry over Alastor, so why would this time be any different?

As I opened the door, time seemed to freeze, to stop dead still. I couldn’t believe my eyes. A new wave of tears and emotions overran my being, and before I knew it, I was jumping into Alastors' arms.

“Hello, dear, long time no see. Did you miss me?” He spoke so clearly, with no static or radio edge. It was odd at first, but it made no difference; the man I loved was standing before me here right now. “Alastor! You are here! How? What?” As I spoke, I pulled away and saw he no longer sported the Red and Black of his typical look. No, he looked ethereal, angelic. Alastor had been redeemed, The Alastor, overlord, and soul owner was redeemed. “Well, my darling, it took a lot of work and quite a few freeing of souls to make this happen.” He smiled, but not the strained, forced smile; it was a regular, normal smile. I felt so at peace; my Alastor was back.

“Oh, Al, you did all of this for me?” He nodded his head, pulling me back into him once more. This time, over his shoulder, I could see a smiling Charlie, Pentious, and Em at our reunion. Pulling me back to face him, I yanked him into the room and closed the door. “Al, we have so much to catch up on; there is no time to waste.” A warm chuckle left his chest as he held me once more. We had all the time in the world now, safe from hell, contracts, and everything that wasn’t our pure, happy love.

I finally have the chance to tell him all the things I wanted to say…

#x reader #lunarwritings #moons #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin #hazbinhotel #hotel hazbin #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel fanart #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin fanart #hazbin art #hazbin hotel x you #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor x you

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lila-lou · 1 day

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✨Rough around the edges - Pt. 3✨

Summary: Jack's day couldn’t have gotten any worse. Exhausted from a grueling shift under the scorching sun, he just wanted to crash at home with some wings and a football game. But his plans for a quiet night were shattered when the racket from his new neighbor echoed through the walls.

Pairing: Jack x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! just a little smutty, Language, age gap, angst, violence

Word Count: 6085

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

“Look… if you ever need anything”, Jack began, his voice quieter now, almost unsure, “you know where to find me. I mean, we live right across from each other, so… just knock”.

You blinked in surprise, not expecting the offer, but you smiled warmly. “I’ll keep that in mind, Jack. Thanks”.

As you disappeared inside, Jack let out a slow breath, leaning back in his seat. He wasn’t sure what to make of it all—the conversation, the connection, the way you had made him feel a little less closed off. He hadn’t expected to find himself here, feeling… something again. But there it was, stirring quietly beneath the surface.

Eventually, with a shake of his head, Jack turned off the truck’s engine and stepped out into the cool night air. He locked the truck behind him and made his way toward the entrance of the building, his boots echoing softly on the pavement. The conversation he’d had with you lingered in his mind, uncomfortably and yet pleasantly. He hadn’t planned on opening up, hadn’t expected to feel anything tonight other than his usual exhaustion, but somehow you had broken through his defenses without even trying.

As he reached the door, he paused for a moment, looking up at the soft glow of the apartment windows above. Your apartment was only a few feet away from his, and knowing that made everything feel strangely closer, more intimate. He had always been a man of habit—quiet, keeping to himself—but tonight had shifted something. He wasn’t sure whether that was good or bad yet.

Jack trudged up the stairs and down the hallway toward his apartment, his mind still tangled in thoughts of you. He had spent so long shutting people out, letting the hurt and bitterness from his past fester, that he had forgotten what it was like to have a real connection with someone. And while it hadn’t been anything profound tonight, just a shared car ride and some honest conversation, it had still shaken something loose in him.

Reaching his door, Jack unlocked it and stepped inside, the familiar stillness greeting him. He tossed his keys onto the counter, kicked off his boots, and leaned against the kitchen counter for a moment, staring into the dimly lit room. The silence that he usually found comforting now felt oddly heavy, as though it were pressing down on him, reminding him of just how alone he’d been.

He let out a long breath and rubbed his hand over his face. What the hell is happening to me? he thought. He wasn’t supposed to feel this way, wasn’t supposed to care. And yet, there it was—a growing awareness that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t want to keep living in his little bubble of solitude forever.

With a tired sigh, Jack grabbed a beer from the fridge, popped it open, and took a long drink. As he sat down on the worn-out couch, his mind kept circling back to you—your laugh, the way you looked at him with genuine interest, the way you had thanked him for a ride that he had felt compelled to offer. It was nothing, really. But it also felt like something.

Jack leaned his head back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling. He had no idea where things were going with you—if anywhere—but for the first time in a long while, he didn’t feel like shutting the door completely.

And that was enough for tonight.

In your apartment, the buzz from the night had started to catch up with you. The warmth from the drinks and the lingering scent of Jack’s cologne seemed to ignite something in you, something you hadn’t felt in a long time. After a few moments of stumbling around your bedroom, you began to strip off your clothes, leaving only your panties on.

The sensation of the fabric clinging to you was damp and uncomfortable, and you realized it was more than just the cold. The remnants of the night and the proximity to Jack had stirred something inside you, something physical and undeniable. The combination of his presence, his scent, and the intimacy of the conversation had left you feeling an unexpected longing.

You settled onto your bed, the cool sheets meeting your heated skin. Your thoughts drifted back, to the way Jack’s hand had steadied you, the deep timbre of his voice, and the faint, intoxicating scent of his cologne that had lingered on you. You hadn't been with anyone in months, and the desire that had sparked tonight was both startling and intense. The alcohol in your system made everything feel a bit more vivid, a bit more pressing.

As you lay there, trying to find some semblance of comfort, your mind replayed the moments from the truck—the casual way Jack had offered you a ride, the genuine concern in his voice, the unexpected connection you’d felt. Even in your tipsy state, you recognized that the attraction you felt was more than just physical. It was a mix of loneliness, desire, and the craving for something real.

You shifted restlessly, the fabric of your panties feeling almost restrictive. Your body ached for more, driven by the intimacy of the night and the raw, unfiltered emotions that came with it. The sense of isolation you had been trying to escape seemed to merge with the physical need you felt, making it all the more intense.

Your thoughts about Jack and the connection you felt were a heady mix of excitement and confusion. You hadn’t expected any of this to happen—hadn’t planned on feeling this way about him. But now, with the night stretching out before you and the warmth of his scent still clinging to you, it was hard to ignore the raw, primal feelings that had surfaced.

In the quiet of your room, with only the soft hum of city sounds coming through the window, you found yourself grappling with these newfound sensations, caught between the lingering effects of the evening and the deep-seated desires that had been stirred up.

As you lay there, the room felt quiet and intimate, a stark contrast to the bustling bar and the late-night conversation you’d shared with Jack. Your thoughts were a tangle of lingering attraction and physical need.

With a restless sigh, your hand found its way to your stomach, slowly slipping inside your panties. The sensation of your own touch sent a shiver through you, intensifying the feelings that had been simmering since your time in Jack’s truck. You were acutely aware of the dampness between your legs, a tangible reminder of the excitement that had built up during the evening.

As your fingers began to explore, you let out a soft, shaky breath. The gentle pressure you applied felt both comforting and electrifying, and you found yourself lost in the sensation. The contrast between the cool fabric of your panties and the warmth of your skin was a constant reminder of the physical desire that had been awakened.

Your mind wandered back to Jack—the way he had looked at you, the way his voice had sounded, the faint scent of his cologne. The combination of the physical sensations and the emotional undercurrents from the night made everything feel more intense, more urgent.

You continued to touch yourself, the movements slow and deliberate, driven by the lingering memory of Jack’s presence and the deep-seated need that had taken hold of you. Each caress and gentle pressure heightened your awareness of the feelings coursing through you, blending the physical pleasure with the emotional complexity of the evening.

The quiet of the night wrapped around you, making the moment feel intensely personal and private. As you continued, the feelings of arousal and longing became more pronounced.

As the intensity of your touch increased, your moans grew louder, the sound carrying through the quiet of your apartment. Unaware of how audible you were, you were completely immersed in the moment, your senses heightened by the alcohol and the lingering thoughts of Jack.

Meanwhile, Jack, unable to sleep and still winding down from the night, was sitting in his living room. He was idly scrolling through his phone with a beer in hand, trying to distract himself from the thoughts of you and the conversation you both had shared. The quiet of the night amplified the noises in the building, and it wasn't long before he heard the unmistakable sound of your moans coming through the wall.

His finger paused on the screen of his phone, and his breath hitched. The sound was soft but distinct, stirring something within him that he had been trying to suppress. For a moment, he sat frozen, the reality of what he was hearing sinking in. His heart raced, and a rush of unexpected emotions clouded his judgment.

The sounds from your apartment painted a vivid picture that Jack couldn’t ignore. He tried to focus on his phone, tried to pull his mind away from what was happening so nearby, but the sounds of your pleasure were insistent, pulling him deeper into a turmoil of arousal and confusion.

The part of him that wanted to stand up, to distance himself from the wall that was the only barrier between him and the source of those sounds, battled with the part that was captivated, drawn to the intimacy of the moment despite himself. Jack knew he should move away, go to another room, put on some music—anything to drown out the sounds that were all too clear and much too close.

But he remained seated, his body tense, his mind racing. The sounds of your moans mingled with the memories of the evening—the look in your eyes, the sound of your laugh, the way you had looked at him as you thanked him for the ride home.

Jack took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of thoughts whirling through his mind. His eyes closed for a moment, a futile attempt to shut out the auditory invasion that stirred him so deeply. But with each soft moan that filtered through the wall, Jack found himself less able to deny the attraction, the undeniable pull that he felt toward you.

As the realization settled in that he was not going to be able to ignore or escape the situation so easily, Jack set his phone down, his last attempt to distract himself abandoned. He sat there, listening, caught in the tension between his own loneliness and the unexpected connection that seemed to be taking root in the most unexpected of ways.

As the sounds from your apartment continued, Jack felt his resolve crumbling. The moans—soft yet insistent—penetrated through the walls, and despite his best efforts to focus on anything else, his body began to react involuntarily.

He shifted in his seat, the growing pressure in his jeans becoming uncomfortable. His breathing grew uneven as he tried to maintain control, but the sounds were relentless, stirring a deep-seated desire that he hadn’t anticipated. The reality of his own arousal hit him hard, a stark contrast to the internal struggle he’d been wrestling with since your chance encounter.

Jack’s hands clenched into fists, his knuckles white as he fought to keep his composure. The image of you, the warmth of the truck, the conversation—it all swirled together in a confusing blend of longing and regret.

Jack’s resolve continued to deteriorate as the sounds from your apartment grew more insistent. His breathing became ragged, and despite his best efforts to maintain control, he found himself unable to ignore the sensations building inside him. The pressure in his pants was becoming too uncomfortable to ignore, and as much as he fought it, his body was betraying him.

In a moment of weakness, his hand moved almost instinctively, unfastening the buckle and pulling down the zipper of his jeans. He tried to fight it, to regain some semblance of control, but the need was overpowering. His mind raced, torn between the escalating arousal and the guilt of what he was doing.

His hand, now trembling slightly, reached inside his jeans, feeling the heat of his own arousal.

Overwhelmed by the flood of emotions and physical responses, Jack finally succumbed to his urges. He pushed down his jeans and boxers, seeking relief from the intense pressure and heat that had built up within him. Alone in the dim light of his living room, Jack was torn between self-reproach for yielding to his desires and the undeniable relief that came with acknowledging them.

His actions were hurried, almost desperate, as he tried to quiet the turmoil swirling in his mind—the guilt, the loneliness, the undeniable attraction to someone so close yet so far in many ways. Each sound from across the wall seemed to amplify his actions, intertwining his reality with the imagined closeness of you, heightening his sense of isolation when he most craved connection.

As Jack began to move his hand, he closed his eyes, allowing his imagination to take over in an effort to distract from his inner turmoil. The sounds from your apartment—faint but unmistakable—fed into his fantasies, painting vivid scenes in his mind. He imagined you, just across the wall, caught in a similar moment of vulnerability and desire.

In his mind’s eye, Jack saw you lying in your bed, a mere echo of reality blending with his imagination, driven by the sounds that had inadvertently bridged the gap between your separate lives. He pictured the way you might arch your back, the soft sighs escape your lips, each detail adding to the intensity of his own actions.

The mental images served as both a balm and an accelerant, soothing his loneliness while simultaneously driving his desire to new heights. His movements became more deliberate, syncing with the rhythm of the muffled sounds that continued to filter through the walls, as if he and you were connected by more than just proximity, sharing a moment of escapism from the solitude that usually enveloped his nights.

As Jack’s hand moved rhythmically, the fantasy in his mind became almost tangible, blurring the lines between reality and imagination. The sounds from your apartment—the soft, intermittent noises that seemed almost in response to his own actions—intensified the experience. It felt as though you were not just a figment of his imagination but a real participant in this shared moment of vulnerability and release.

Jack’s breathing grew heavier, and his heart raced as he approached the edge. The fantasy of you, so vivid and detailed, pushed him closer to climax. The imagined sounds of your pleasure, the visual of your body responding in kind to his own actions, heightened his arousal to its peak.

Meanwhile, the faint but distinct rhythm of a bed, the soft moans that matched the intensity of Jack’s own breaths—everything pointed to a parallel journey you were undertaking behind the wall that separated you.

The isolation that typically enveloped Jack’s nights was momentarily lifted as he felt an intimate, though unspoken, connection with you. In this late hour, the walls of your apartments felt thinner than ever, as if the physical and emotional distance had collapsed under the weight of shared human needs and desires.

Finally, as Jack reached the brink, the intensity of his fantasy coupled with the real sounds from your apartment brought him to a powerful, almost overwhelming climax. As he came, his mind was filled with the image of you experiencing the same release, a thought that made his moment of solitude feel less lonely.

Another week passed, and the memory of that night had faded into the background, though it occasionally resurfaced in Jack’s mind during the quieter moments. He had kept himself busy with work, the usual routine of long hours and physical labor serving as a distraction from the thoughts that threatened to surface whenever he allowed his mind to wander.

It was Friday morning, and Jack stepped out of his apartment, coffee in hand and his work bag slung over his shoulder, ready to head to the site. Just as he closed his door, he heard the familiar creak of your door opening across the hall.

For the first time since that night at the bar, your eyes met.

You stepped outside, your face lighting up with a surprised smile when you saw him. There was an undeniable moment of recognition, though neither of you acknowledged it outright. It wasn’t just the memory of the bar, but something unspoken, lingering between you.

"Morning", you said casually, pulling your jacket tighter around you as you prepared to leave.

"Morning", Jack replied, his voice gruff as usual, though there was a slight hesitation in his tone. He hadn’t expected to run into you like this, not after the last week of keeping to himself.

The silence between you stretched out for a second longer than it should have, both of you standing there, caught in the awkwardness of the moment. It wasn’t the same as before; there was something new hanging between you two. Jack, for all his efforts to bury it, couldn’t shake the vivid memory of that night and the connection he had felt, however fleeting or imagined.

You cleared your throat, breaking the silence. “Heading to work?”.

Jack nodded, lifting his coffee cup as if to emphasize the early start to the day. “Yeah. You?”.

You smiled, glancing down the hall as you locked your door. “Running some errands before work. Got a busy day ahead”.

There was a brief pause, as though both of you were searching for something else to say. Jack shifted slightly, unsure if he should bring up the night at the bar or just let things continue as they were—neighborly, but distant.

"About the other night", you started, surprising Jack. He looked at you, his brow furrowing slightly.

"What about it?", he asked, trying to gauge where you were going with this.

You hesitated for a moment, then gave a small laugh, waving it off. "I just wanted to thank you again for the ride. I had a bit too much to drink, I guess".

Jack shrugged, though he felt something stir inside him. "It was nothing. Just looking out for a neighbor".

You gave him a warm smile, the kind that made Jack feel like maybe, just maybe, there was something more to this connection between you. But before either of you could say anything more, the moment passed, and you both turned toward the stairwell, ready to go about your day.

"Have a good one", you said over your shoulder as you walked ahead.

"You too", Jack replied, his voice quieter, as he watched you disappear around the corner.

As Jack made his way to his truck, he couldn’t help but think about the unspoken tension between you two, the way your eyes had lingered on his for just a second longer than necessary. Something had shifted, and while neither of you had acknowledged it directly, Jack knew that things might never be quite the same.

At work, the sun beat down relentlessly as Jack and Anthony labored over the foundation of the new construction site. The heat was oppressive, and it wasn’t even midday yet, sweat already pouring off them as they moved heavy equipment and mixed concrete. Jack wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, his shirt sticking to his back as he focused on the task at hand, trying to lose himself in the physical demands of the job.

Anthony, as usual, wasn’t one for silence. He shoved a wheelbarrow full of concrete into position and grinned over at Jack. “Man, this heat is brutal. Feels like I’m sweating out last weekend’s beer”.

Jack grunted, his mind elsewhere. Despite the distraction of work, he couldn’t completely shake the thoughts of his morning run-in with you. It had been such a simple interaction—just a few words exchanged as you both left the building—but it felt heavier, like there was more beneath the surface.

Anthony noticed Jack’s distant expression and raised an eyebrow. “Hey, you still with me, or are you lost in la-la land?”.

Jack shot him a sideways glance, shaking his head. “Just focused. This heat’ll kill us if we don’t pace ourselves”.

Anthony chuckled, though he wasn’t fooled by Jack’s attempt to deflect. “Yeah, sure. You’ve been off ever since we ran into your little neighbor last week at the bar. You finally make a move or what?”.

Jack groaned, grabbing a shovel to spread the concrete evenly. “I didn’t make a move, Anthony. We ran into each other this morning, that’s all”.

“Yeah? How’d that go?”, Anthony leaned on the handle of the wheelbarrow, clearly not letting the subject drop.

Jack hesitated, then shrugged, trying to make it seem like no big deal. “She thanked me for the ride home. That’s it”.

Anthony gave him a knowing look, shaking his head. “Man, I don’t know why you’re playing this all cool. You’ve been stuck in neutral for years. That girl’s giving you all the green lights, and you’re still sitting at the stop sign”.

Jack’s jaw tightened as he focused on his work, not wanting to dive into the conversation. Anthony wasn’t wrong, though. There was a tension between him and you, something unspoken that seemed to hang in the air every time he thought about you. But Jack wasn’t ready to confront whatever that was. Not yet, anyway.

“Look, I’m not getting involved with my neighbor”, Jack finally said, his tone firm but resigned. “Too complicated. Told you already”.

"You´re fucking afraid", Anthony chuckled.

Jack shot Anthony a sharp look, but his friend just grinned, clearly not backing down from his playful needling. Jack hated that Anthony was right—there was a part of him that was afraid to admit he was interested. It wasn’t just about you being his neighbor; it was everything that came with it. The messiness of relationships, the vulnerability, the risk of getting hurt again. Jack wasn’t sure if he had the energy or the will to go through that kind of emotional upheaval, even if there was something undeniably magnetic about you.

"I’m not afraid", Jack said gruffly, more to convince himself than Anthony.

Anthony wiped sweat from his brow, watching Jack closely. “Then what’s stopping you? Life’s too short to play it safe all the time, man. You’re gonna miss out on something good if you keep hiding behind excuses”.

Jack shook his head, frustrated, as he shoveled another pile of concrete. "It’s not that simple".

Anthony sighed, leaning on the shovel for a moment, his voice losing some of its teasing edge. "Jack, nothing's simple. You of all people know that. But you can’t just keep putting up walls. You’re stuck in neutral because you won’t let anyone in".

Jack stayed silent, his eyes fixed on the work in front of him. He didn’t want to admit how much Anthony’s words were hitting home. The truth was, Jack had been putting up walls for a long time, ever since his marriage fell apart. And every time he felt a connection—whether it was real or imagined—he’d push it down, shove it into a corner of his mind where he didn’t have to deal with it.

The thought of getting involved with you scared him because it was a risk. And Jack wasn’t sure if he was ready to gamble on something that could unravel him again.

But as the day wore on and the sun beat down, Jack couldn’t shake the image of you from his mind. The easy smile you’d given him that morning, the warmth in your eyes. There was something there, something real, and Jack was slowly realizing that pretending it wasn’t affecting him wasn’t going to work much longer.

Anthony finally broke the silence, his tone lighter again. “Well, you keep overthinking it, man. Meanwhile, I’m getting a beer after this and you’re welcome to join me if you want to stop brooding for a minute”.

Jack chuckled despite himself, shaking his head. "We’ll see".

Anthony grinned, sensing he’d made a small crack in Jack’s armor. “Good. You might need more than a beer to get out of your head, though”.

As they continued their work, Jack tried to focus, but the idea that maybe—just maybe—he didn’t need to keep his distance from you lingered in the back of his mind.

It was around 11 p.m. when Jack finally returned home from the bar, his footsteps a little slower than usual from the couple of beers he’d had with Anthony. The night air had cooled significantly, a stark contrast to the heat of the day. He reached into his pocket to fish out his keys, ready to call it a night, when something stopped him in his tracks.

Loud noises—thuds, crashes—came from your apartment. Jack froze, his instincts immediately on high alert. His hand gripped the key tightly as he stood still, listening closely. A second later, he heard what sounded like muffled screams, faint but unmistakable.

Jack’s blood ran cold.

He knew he should mind his own business, that you were an adult capable of handling your own life, but this was different. The sound of distress was too clear, too concerning. His hand moved from his door handle, and before he could talk himself out of it, he was crossing the hall toward your apartment, his heart pounding in his chest.

He stood at your door for a brief second, listening intently. Another crash, and this time, a louder, more desperate sound escaped from inside—something was definitely wrong. Without thinking, Jack banged his fist against the door.

“Hey! You alright in there?”, he shouted, his voice booming through the hallway.

There was no immediate answer, just more muffled noise. His pulse quickened, and he knocked harder, urgency taking over. “Y/N! Open the damn door!”.

Still no answer.

Without waiting for a response, Jack tried the door handle, fully prepared to break the door down if he had to. To his surprise, the door was unlocked, and it creaked open slightly. Jack pushed it open wider, stepping inside cautiously.

The apartment was dimly lit, but Jack could see signs of chaos—knocked-over furniture, papers scattered across the floor. His heart raced as he scanned the room, his eyes finally landing on you in the corner. You were struggling, your arms pinned, and a man loomed over you, his grip tight and menacing.

The sound of Jack entering the apartment caused the man to freeze, and he turned toward Jack with a snarl. Jack didn’t hesitate—his protective instincts kicked in immediately.

“Get off her!”, Jack barked, his voice low and dangerous as he stepped forward, ready to intervene. The man’s eyes widened for a split second, realizing he wasn’t alone, but he didn’t move. Jack took another step, his presence looming as he readied himself for whatever came next.

The man finally let go of you, shoving you aside roughly as he turned to face Jack. Without thinking, Jack lunged, grabbing the man by the collar and slamming him against the wall with enough force to make him grunt in pain.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing?”, Jack growled, his face inches from the man’s.

The man struggled, trying to push Jack off, but Jack was too strong, too furious to back down. He held the man in place, his fists clenched and every muscle in his body tense.

“Get the fuck out. Now! Before i loose my shit”, Jack demanded, his voice cold and hard.

For a moment, it seemed like the man might fight back, but he thought better of it. Jack’s grip loosened just enough for the man to stumble away, glaring as he straightened himself. Without another word, the man stormed toward the door, slamming it behind him as he left.

The room fell silent, the chaos and tension still thick in the air. Jack stood there for a moment, his heart still racing, before turning his attention to you. You were huddled on the floor, trembling and trying to catch your breath, your face a mix of fear and relief.

“Y/N”, Jack said softly, moving toward you carefully. “You okay?”.

You nodded shakily, though it was clear you were still in shock. Jack crouched down beside you, his protective instincts still in overdrive.

“Who was that? Do I need to call the cops?”, Jack asked, his voice gentle but firm.

You shook your head, your voice hoarse when you finally spoke. “No… no, he’s gone now. It was just… my ex. He wasn’t supposed to be here”.

Jack clenched his jaw, anger still simmering beneath the surface. “You’re sure you’re okay?”.

You nodded again, though your body language told a different story. Jack’s eyes softened as he reached out, offering you his hand.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here for a bit”, he said quietly. “You don’t have to stay here tonight”.

You hesitated for a moment, clearly shaken and unsure, but then you took Jack’s hand, letting him help you to your feet. As you stood, the dim light in the apartment revealed more than Jack had anticipated. His eyes immediately went to the bruises on your arms—faint but unmistakable fingerprints marking your skin. Worse still was the cut on your lower lip, swollen and fresh. Jack’s blood boiled all over again, the anger from moments ago threatening to resurface.

“Damn it”, Jack muttered under his breath, his hand tightening slightly around yours as he guided you toward the door. He could feel the tension in his muscles, the barely contained rage at the thought of what had just happened. He wanted to go after the guy, make sure he never came near you again, but for now, his priority was getting you out of there.

You noticed Jack’s reaction, your eyes flickering down to your arms, and you quickly pulled them away, crossing them in front of your chest defensively, as if trying to hide the evidence of the assault. “It’s fine”, you whispered, your voice trembling. “He’s gone. It’s over”.

Jack stopped just inside the doorway, turning to face you. "It’s not fine", he said firmly, his voice low but filled with concern. "Look at you".

Your eyes welled with tears, but you blinked them away quickly, unwilling to break down in front of him. "I’ll be okay. I just… I didn’t expect him to show up. I thought he was done. I didn’t think—". You stopped, your voice catching in your throat.

Jack stepped closer, his voice softer now. "You don’t have to explain. But you shouldn’t stay here tonight. Let me help, even if it’s just for tonight".

You stared at him for a moment, weighing the options in your head. You didn’t want to impose, didn’t want to seem weak or incapable. But the truth was, the fear still gripped you, and the thought of staying in your apartment, alone, after what had just happened, was unbearable.

"Okay", you finally said, your voice barely a whisper.

Jack nodded, relieved that you weren’t going to argue. He placed a steady hand on the small of your back and guided you out of the apartment. He made sure to lock your door behind you, not that it offered much comfort given what had just transpired.

"Let’s go to my place for now", Jack said, his voice calm and reassuring. "You can stay there tonight, and we’ll figure everything out in the morning".

You gave him a small nod, too tired and shaken to think about anything beyond the immediate moment.

As you stepped into Jack’s apartment, the warmth and quiet of the space enveloped you. It felt safe. Jack led you to the couch, gesturing for you to sit. "I’ll get you some water", he said, disappearing into the kitchen.

While he was gone, you sat on the couch, hugging your knees to your chest, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Your ex showing up had been a shock—a terrifying reminder of a chapter you thought you had closed. The bruises on your arms stung, but not nearly as much as the emotional weight of it all. You hadn’t wanted to seem weak, hadn’t wanted to involve anyone else, but Jack had been there. He had seen everything.

Jack returned with a glass of water and a first aid kit, setting them both down on the coffee table. “Drink”, he said gently, nodding toward the glass. “And let me take a look at your lip”.

You hesitated for a moment but then reached for the glass, taking a small sip. Jack knelt in front of you, opening the first aid kit and carefully taking out some antiseptic wipes. He met your eyes for a brief second, silently asking for permission before he gently dabbed the cut on your lip.

You winced slightly, but the pain was dulled by the tenderness in his actions.

"Sorry", Jack muttered softly. “I just want to make sure it doesn’t get worse”.

You nodded, grateful for his care despite the situation. For the first time in what felt like hours, you allowed yourself to relax, knowing that, at least for tonight, you didn’t have to handle this alone.

As Jack continued to clean up the cut, his brow furrowed with concentration, you felt a wave of gratitude wash over you. He had stepped in without hesitation, protected you without a second thought. And now, as he knelt there, carefully tending to your injuries, you realized just how much you needed that.

Jack continued his careful work, his hands steady as he cleaned the small wound on your lip. Despite the roughness of the situation, his touch was gentle, his eyes focused on making sure you were okay. You watched him, feeling a mix of emotions—gratitude, relief, and something else, something softer that you couldn’t quite name.

Once he finished, Jack stood and tossed the used antiseptic wipe into the trash, his movements deliberate, almost as if he was trying to keep his own emotions in check. He turned back to you, running a hand through his hair, the tension from earlier still etched into his features.

“You’ll be alright”, he said quietly, though it sounded more like he was reassuring himself than you. “But I’ll stay up, just in case”.

You looked up at him, surprised by his offer. “You don’t have to do that, Jack. You’ve already done more than enough”.

Jack shook his head. “I’m not going to sleep knowing he might come back”. His voice was firm but kind, leaving no room for argument.

You gave a small nod, feeling a weight lift slightly from your chest knowing that, for tonight, you weren’t alone. “Thank you”, you whispered, your voice filled with more emotion than you expected.

Jack gave you a small, almost imperceptible nod, his expression softening. “You shouldn’t have to deal with that. No one should”.

The weight of his words hung in the air for a moment, and you could feel the tension between you shift again. Jack wasn’t just saying these things out of obligation—there was something deeper, something protective and genuine. You’d always known him to be a bit gruff, a little distant, but tonight, you were seeing a different side of him. A side that cared, even when he didn’t say it outright.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

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