#this series seems funny as fuck i just might check it out

[natsmagi]

thinking about yuri is my job(the manga) as natsumugi i think im going crazy....... hime as tsumugi and natsume as yano and sora can be the little girl that breaks her arm i forgot her name

had never heard of it before but

i think ur onto something

[punkshort]

i know who you are | 6. the fight

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Word of Joel's indiscretion spreads quickly through town, leading to a vicious fight. When Joel begins to worry you may never forgive him, he sets into motion a plan to win you back.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, pining, sad!Joel, amnesia, slow burn, previous infidelity mentioned, violence (fist fight), blood, bruises, jealousy/possessiveness

WC: 8K

Series Masterlist

The thought of leaving your bed was excruciating.

For nearly three days, you could hardly do much more than use the bathroom and drink some water. When you heard Joel leave for patrol, his footsteps always pausing hesitantly on the other side of your door before begrudgingly going down the steps, you would eventually drag yourself downstairs and force yourself to eat something. Anything. It didn't really matter. You didn't crave anything. Didn't look forward to a single thing except the sweet embrace of sleep. But by the fourth day, you knew you would have to go back to work or else Nick would make a house call to check on you.

You had lied and said you hurt your back so you could get out of working for a few days, but enough time had passed, enough tears were shed, enough pity was wasted when you finally forced yourself to get up one morning and take a shower.

It helped more than you thought it would. The steam billowing around you in the confined space, the warm water pummeling your shoulders, working out the kinks in your muscles from too many hours hunched over in agony. If you had any self-awareness, you might have asked yourself why you had such a powerful reaction to Joel kissing someone else. If you had a clear enough mind, you might have remembered you didn't even react this badly when you woke from your accident only to discover your whole family was dead and the world went to hell.

No, you only seemed to fall into a deep depression over Joel finding comfort from another woman.

And not just any woman. Angie.

It still made your blood boil as you slipped on clean clothes for work. You should have known she was a shark, smelling blood in the water that very first night when she cornered you in the bathroom.

And to make matters worse, he had the audacity to accuse you of not caring. Not giving a shit about him, to be exact.

That fucking asshole.

When you came down the stairs and spotted the coffee maker still on with your favorite mug next to the carafe, you scoffed and kept walking to grab your coat. As much as you wanted some coffee, you were too stubborn to accept Joel's shitty gesture.

The winter sun was blinding against the snow. Or maybe your eyes were just too swollen and dry, too accustomed to staying in the darkness of your bedroom for days on end, but whatever it was caused you to wince and rub your face.

"Hey! You're alive!" you heard Ellie's voice call out from the driveway. She was walking up the path at the exact same time as you with her backpack slung over one shoulder and her winter jacket unzipped.

"Yeah, barely," you replied, wishing you had some of the coffee Joel had left behind. You took the porch steps carefully and met her out on the sidewalk, your pupils finally adjusting to the brightness. "How's it going, kid?"

She opened her mouth to reply but paused, giving you a funny look.

"What's wrong?" you asked, unable to read her expression.

"Nothing, just that nickname... took me by surprise," she laughed with a shake of her head, "you used to call me that before. Haven't heard it in a long time, I guess." You shielded your eyes and shrugged.

"Common nickname, I suppose," you reasoned, and she nodded in agreement.

"How's the back?" she asked with a point, and you almost had to ask her what she was talking about before you remembered your lie.

"Oh! Much better, thanks. Must've pulled a muscle or something, who knows."

"Well, that's good. Listen, I gotta get to school, but do you wanna get dinner later with me and Dina? Seth's making mac and cheese, and it's like, the fucking best, dude," she said excitedly, and you didn't have the heart to say no.

"Yeah, sounds great," you smiled, then gave her a quick wave before heading in the opposite direction towards the infirmary.

It was only a short ten minute walk to work, but the fresh air combined with stretching your muscles for the first time in days really did something to improve your mood. By the time you pushed open the door to the infirmary, you were actually looking forward to working again.

And so was Nick, apparently, because his eyes lit up and his body sagged with relief when he saw you.

"I was a few hours away from sneaking you the good pills and begging you to come back," he joked, then his face turned serious. "Everything alright? What happened?"

"Oh, I'm fine," you said, waving off his concern, "I slipped on some ice and pulled a muscle, it's all good now."

"Well, be careful out there, alright? You're the best aide I have."

"I'm the only aide you have," you corrected him before hanging up your jacket. "What do you need me to do?"

The morning went by fast. Nick had told you in the few days you were out, the clinic wasn't terribly busy, but he unfortunately did fall behind on housekeeping. So you busied yourself running loads of sheets and blankets to the laundry, then sanitizing equipment until Mr. Phillips came in after lunch with a laceration on his arm from working in the stables. It wasn't a bad injury, but it required some cleaning and a few stitches, which you were secretly eager to observe. You wanted to get more exposure to stitching in the hopes of being able to take care of non-emergency injuries by yourself one day.

It felt good to feel useful again. Staying busy forced your mind off Joel and the whole mess waiting for you at home, and you were grateful for the distraction. So much so that you decided to stay a little longer than usual and fold the linens that came back from the laundry. You were killing two birds with one stone: staying busy and avoiding going home in between work and dinner. By now, you knew he'd be back and likely waiting for you, and you still had no idea what you would say.

As the sun began to set and the world outside the infirmary grew darker, you slid your coat back on and locked the door behind you before heading for the dining hall.

Shoving your hands deep into your pockets, you tucked your chin against your chest, feet carrying you swiftly through the streets, eyes cast down and avoiding others as best you could. When you arrived at the dining hall, it was packed, per usual, but you did manage to spot Ellie and Dina holding a small table in the back of the room. As you weaved your way through the crowd, you noticed they were sharing some bread and butter and you felt your stomach rumble. For the first time in days, you felt excited to eat.

"Hey," you said in greeting as you dropped your coat over the back of an empty chair before giving them each a half hug. "Freezing out there."

"Give it a second. It's hotter than hell in here," Dina joked before pushing the basket of bread in your direction. You plopped down into your chair and moaned when you felt the bread was still warm, then tore off little pieces and popped them into your mouth.

"Hungry?" Ellie asked, only partially joking as you nodded vigorously.

"Did you order the mac and cheese yet?"

"Yeah, didn't want him to run out," she replied as she eased back into her chair and turned her head toward Dina. "Do you see Chris and Holly over there? What are they thinking? They know that shit'll get back to Claire. What a bunch of assholes."

"Who?" you asked, your voice muffled around the bread.

"Couple of kids in our class," Dina explained, nodding towards the other side of the hall. You twisted around, your eyes scanning the crowd until you saw a younger couple sitting together, the girl sitting on the guy's lap and toying with his hair. "That's Chris, and he's been dating this girl, Claire, for like, what? Six months or so? And look at him. Letting that hussy crawl all over him. Men are pigs."

You choked on your laughter and took a swig of water. If only they knew.

Ellie's eyes lit up as she looked at something behind you, and you turned around to follow her gaze, spotting Seth as he made his way through the crowd with three plates of mac and cheese. However, just over his left shoulder you happened to notice Joel for the first time since you arrived, but by the looks of it, it was not the first time he noticed you.

He was sitting at his usual table with Tommy and another guy from patrol you vaguely recognized, the other two men engrossed in conversation while Joel pinned you with his stare. You quickly turned away, your cheeks feeling flush, and tried to focus on your dinner.

"Shit, this looks amazing," you said, distracted by the cheesy, piping hot dish set in front of you.

"I'm telling you, man, it's the fucking best," Ellie told you before digging in. You had to stifle a moan when the food hit your tongue for the first time, eternally grateful for the impeccable timing because all you could think about in that moment was how good it tasted, Joel temporarily forgotten for the first time in days.

"Didn't you eat today?" Dina asked, her lips twitching into a grin, and you shook your head.

"Not really. Haven't had much of an appetite this week," you told her, and Ellie tilted her head to the side.

"Your pain was that bad?"

"Huh?" you asked, then it dawned on you once again. The Lie. "Oh, yeah. I mean, I ate a little, I just wanted to sleep, I guess."

"Joel didn't make sure you ate?" she pressed, her eyes flicking over your shoulder. You dropped your fork, scrambling to come up with yet another lie when her brow furrowed and her eyes narrowed, making you twist around to see what made her demeanor change so suddenly.

As you expected, she was looking in Joel's direction, but he was no longer looking at your table. It was impossible considering Angie was standing directly in front of him, blocking his view with her body, her hand resting on the back of his chair.

"What is she up to now?" Dina murmured to Ellie, but you could hardly register her words. The way your anger ignited deep within your chest and licked up your throat, it was a miracle you even remembered to breathe. Joel's legs shifted, knees turned away from her, but that was all you could see. You couldn't see the look on his face or hear what was said. You couldn't see where his hands were. But you could see Angie flick her long, straight hair over her shoulder with a flirty laugh that was clearly meant to pull attention onto her.

If you didn't have tunnel vision, you would have noticed she was successful. A few heads turned, men's eyes lingering on her backside while women's eyes darted in your direction, but you were incapable of processing any of it. Ellie was saying your name, but you couldn't hear her over the ringing in your ears.

It was less than a minute. Thirty seconds, tops, and she walked away from him with a sickly grin plastered across her face, her two friends returning her mischievous smile before flanking her side, making their way towards the exit like a swarm of bees.

Without even thinking, you stood up.

"What are you doing?" Ellie asked, but you ignored her. Instead, you pushed your way through the crowd in a trance, shouldering people out of your way without so much as an apology, too laser focused on your target to care.

"Joel!" Ellie called out to him. He was rubbing his face angrily, trying to avoid his brother's eyes glaring at him in disbelief over what he just overheard Angie say when he heard Ellie. Great, she knows, too, he initially thought, but when he looked up and saw Ellie and Dina, panic-stricken, making their way towards the exit, he realized something was happening. He didn't see you until you emerged from the crowd and reached for the door, swinging it open and allowing a cool blast of air into the room before disappearing outside.

"Oh, shit," Joel mumbled, snatching his coat and forcing his way through all the people as quickly as he could. Tommy followed, confused at first, until he realized you were no longer at your table and then it clicked.

By the time you made it outside, you nearly missed where they went, but luck was on your side because her high-pitched giggle danced through the bitter cold air and you twisted your head to the left, just in time to see the three women in the shadow of night round a corner and head down a residential street.

You were nearly running to catch up with them, but you couldn't feel your feet hit the ground or hear the gravel crunching under your boots. And neither did they, because when you found yourself less than ten feet away, they were still giggling and talking animatedly amongst themselves, completely oblivious to your presence.

Skidding to a stop, you shouted, "Hey!"

All three women swirled around in surprise, their eyes wide and their smiles slipping from their faces when they sensed the rage radiating from your body. But even still, Angie tried to play dumb.

"Can we help you?" she asked sarcastically with a dry laugh, but when you took a step forward, she went quiet.

"Yeah," you sneered, fists clenching at your sides, "I had a question for you, actually."

Angie looked perplexed, not expecting that, so she held her hands out to her side, urging you to continue while Ellie and Dina caught up, standing a few paces back.

"Did you run out of dick to suck in this town or are you just that fucking bored you thought you'd give home wrecking a try?"

Dina snickered behind you and Ellie gasped.

"Home wrecking?" she replied, raising her eyebrow and crossing her arms. "Is that what you'd call your man following me into the ladies room at the bar so he could shove his tongue down my throat?"

Your nostrils flared and your ears began to make that buzzing noise again, so you dug your nails into your palms, desperately trying to ground yourself.

"Can I even call him your man?" she taunted, feeling like she got the upper hand. "Are you even together anymore? You clearly don't fuck him if he was looking for it from-"

You couldn't even remember moving. Your feet had a mind of their own as you closed the distance between you with two long strides and swung your arm back with as much force as you could muster, backhanding Angie right across the mouth.

Her hands flew up to her face and her two friends stumbled backwards in surprise, but all you saw was red. Before she could recover, you grabbed her by the coat and threw her down onto the muddy street, knocking the wind out of her with a sharp gasp. Quickly, before she could get up, you straddled her midsection. With your left hand pressing down on her chest and your right balled into a fist near your head, you landed a punch right on her perfect little nose with a sickening crunch, causing a trail of blood to trickle out of her nostrils seconds later. But that didn't stop you. You kept going, your knuckles, now bloody, marring her flesh over and over again, but when you made contact with her jawbone, you flinched, a jolt of pain shooting down your middle finger making you pause.

That was when Angie saw her opportunity.

She vaulted you off her with her hips and she rolled to her side, pinning you to the ground with blood dripping down her face. She scratched desperately at your eyes and mouth, your hands coming up to protect yourself with a yelp, before she began landing weak punches against your cheek and mouth. And even though they weren't as forceful as your hits, her weight pinning you down kept you from reclaiming the upper hand.

Ellie and Dina were shouting your name, but you tuned them out. All you could focus on was Angie, blocking her punches as best you could while you waited for your opportunity to take her down.

Then, Angie's hand wrapped around your throat, her fingers pressing into your windpipe. Your hands grabbed her wrist as you fought for air and violently thrashed underneath her.

"Face it," she hissed, leaning down and putting more pressure against your throat, "If it was that easy, I was doing you a favor. He never really loved you, you were just an easy fuck before your brain got all scrambled."

Her words were exactly what you needed to get your second wind.

With an angry roar, you punched her right in the throat, and although you couldn't get much force behind it, it was enough to make her loosen her grip in surprise. And just as Tommy and Joel were running up the street, you tossed Angie to the side and scrambled back on top of her. But this time, you didn't stop.

You were merciless, your hands were a blur. Fists rained down blows upon her face while she desperately tried to shield herself, but it was no use.

"Stop!" she sobbed, begging, but the fear in her voice just egged you on.

Blood began to stain her yellow hair, her perfect skin began to turn red and purple while your fists never stopped, each blow creating a new mark or cut. You couldn't stop if you tried. Something snapped and you unlocked a part of yourself you didn't know, or didn't remember, existed. Some part of you that was a warrior. A fighter. A survivor. And it wasn't until Joel hooked his arms underneath yours and hauled you back that you finally stopped, your chest heaving and your eyes wild.

"Y-you crazy b-bitch!" Angie sputtered, blood trickling from her nose and mouth as Tommy knelt in front of her.

"You haven't seen crazy!" you screamed as you kicked and struggled to get out of Joel's grip. Tommy reached down to help Angie up and he motioned for her friends to come forward. "Stay the fuck away from us or I'll fucking kill you!" you shouted, "You hear me, you fucking whore? I will fucking kill you!"

"Calm down!" Joel yelled from behind, but your blood boiled as you focused your rage on him.

"Get your fucking hands off me," you snarled, wrenching your arms out of his grasp. "This is your fault!" you continued, pointing your finger in his face and backing away, ignoring the tortured look he gave you. A sick part of you was pleased to see the sting of your words land.

"I think she needs to see Nick," Tommy said as both of Angie's friends struggled to help her up.

"She's lucky she's alive," you snapped as you wiped the back of your hand over your bloody face.

"Holy shit, dude," Ellie murmured as you turned around, her eyes all wide with shock.

"I'm going home," you grumbled, wiping more blood from your cheek as you began the journey back to your house on shaky legs, wondering how on earth you were expected to share a space with Joel after tonight. Dina and Ellie exchanged some quick words as you left before Ellie quickly caught up with you.

"I'll clean you up."

"You don't-"

"I know. But I want to," she said, wrapping her arm around your shoulder, and it took everything in you not to lean into her and let her drag you home.

You were exhausted. Mentally and physically. And you just wanted to go to bed. But you were grateful for Ellie. Someone who cared, someone who saw you were hurting and needed help without having to ask for it. So you let her clean you up in your bathroom when you arrived back home, her nimble fingers delicately pressing against your wounds, cleansing them as best she could before pressing band aids and butterfly bandages against your cuts and then making you an ice pack to help with the swelling.

She tucked you into bed and made you drink some water before sitting down on the edge of your mattress with a sigh.

"I had no idea," she began, and you quickly waved her off.

"I know. It's... I know," you said, at a loss for words.

"You didn't really hurt your back, did you?" she asked, and you slowly shook your head. "That motherfucker," she seethed, "I can't believe him, I'm going to kill him, I swear-"

"Just leave him alone," you told her, "Let me handle it."

The two of you sat quietly for a moment, each of you lost in your own thoughts before she spoke again.

"It wasn't like that before," she began, and at first you weren't following, but then you realized: she was talking about before your accident. "You were crazy about each other. Angie was never an issue. Neither of you paid her any attention. She just saw an opportunity and took advantage," Ellie said as her fingers tangled in her lap. "I shouldn't even be saying this, it feels like I'm defending him, but I swear. I was with you guys all the time. You were in love, man."

"Things changed, I guess," you said sadly, but she shook her head.

"You guys are what inspired me and Dina to go for it," she said softly, avoiding your gaze. "We were scared, but I saw how you two were together and how you made it work and, I don't know," she said, picking at her fingernail, "I guess what I'm trying to say is, I look up to you guys. And it's kind of fucking with my head right now that all this is happening."

"Ellie, no," you said, shifting a bit in bed and reaching out to her. "Don't say that. Don't question what you and Dina have because of me and Joel."

She swallowed and looked at you, her eyes soft and worried.

"Why did he do it?" she asked quietly, and you could hear the pain in her voice. Pressing your lips together, you shrugged.

"It's complicated."

She nodded and looked away. "Will you do me a favor?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Would you give him a chance? Just hear him out and let him explain?" she begged, and you immediately bristled. "You don't have to forgive him. Just... don't give up yet. Please. He loves you, I know it, and... and I think you love him, too."

You scoffed then cleared your throat, your fingers coming up to press gently on your tender neck. "I don't love him," you croaked, but she shook her head.

"If you don't love him then why do you care so much?" she countered, and you fell silent, unable to give her an answer, eyes drifting aimlessly around the room. "Why did you almost kill Angie for sleeping with him if you didn't love him?"

"Sleeping with - no, Ellie. They didn't have sex. He kissed her," you quickly explained, and her eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"You rearranged her face because he kissed her?" she asked in disbelief, then laughed softly and stood up. "I'm not saying he didn't fuck up, but dude. Come on. You gotta see it, now, right?"

You took a deep breath and rubbed your eyes.

"Alright. For you, I'll... talk to him, or whatever," you grumbled half-heartedly.

"Thank you," she said, her voice sounding more like herself once again before turning to leave and allowing you to rest. If you had any inkling she was trying to manipulate you into forgiving Joel, it was quickly expunged because you awoke an hour later to her arguing with him in the living room when he arrived home, the conversation ending with her storming out of the house and then his weary footsteps slowly climbing up the stairs.

Once again, you watched as he paused outside your room, two narrow shadows cast by his legs breaking up the thin beam of light under your door until he thought better of it and kept walking, his own bedroom door closing softly with a click.

The pain was worse the next morning, but you refused to admit it. The cuts burned and the bruises throbbed, but you were too stubborn to let any weakness show, although one look at your bruised neck would tell anyone the truth. You forced yourself out of bed, feeling too guilty to bail on Nick after already taking so many days off to wallow in your own misery, and washed up before heading downstairs. Much to your surprise, Joel was sitting at the kitchen table, his big hand cupping a mug of coffee while he stared blankly at the wall, lost in his own thoughts. When you first saw his face, the bags under his eyes evident, even from across the room, it was clear he hardly got any sleep.

Good, you thought. Then you remembered your promise to Ellie and bit back whatever nasty remark you were getting ready to toss his way. Instead, you dragged yourself to the coffee maker, ignoring the mug Joel left out for you and choosing your own, unable to resist the urge to be just a little bit spiteful.

He cleared his throat as you poured your coffee, a warning he was about to speak, and your shoulders tensed.

"How're you feelin'?"

"About as good as I look," you muttered, bringing the coffee to your lips and taking a tiny sip before turning around. He looked up at you, for the first time seeing the extent of your injuries and he jolted forward in his chair, fighting back the instinct to stand up and inspect your wounds. He blinked rapidly, gaze skirting over your face and neck, worry etching his features until you sighed.

"It's not really that bad," you admitted, looking down at your feet.

"Tell Nick t'give you somethin' when you get to work," he said, voice strained. You nodded and took another sip of your coffee. He swallowed nervously before inching forward in his chair and clasping his hands between his knees. "I'm sorry," he said, the words laced with guilt and shame. "I'm so sorry, I fucked up. But you gotta believe me, I didn't go out that night lookin' for her or anyone else. I just wanted to drink and be alone for a little while." He rubbed his palms over his face while you still stared down at the floor, listening.

"I believe you," you finally said after a tense stretch of silence. He dropped his hands and looked up.

"You do?"

"Doesn't mean I forgive you, but I believe you didn't run out of here looking to shove your tongue down someone else's throat."

He grimaced and dropped his chin to his chest.

"D'you think-" he cut himself off and took a deep breath before forcing himself to look at you again. "D'you think you could ever forgive me?"

You closed your eyes and pressed your lips into a thin line.

"I don't know," you said quietly. Your head was pounding, so you rubbed your forehead, his eyes trained on you anxiously from across the room, knee bouncing slightly as he waited to hear you say anything that would give him a glimmer of hope. "You really fucking hurt me, Joel," you said, trying to hide your lower lip as it trembled, but he heard the pain in your voice and it broke his heart.

"I know, I'm an asshole and I don't deserve you. I never did. Not after what happened at the hospital and definitely not now," he said, standing up and taking a few hesitant steps in your direction, stopping when he reached the kitchen island. "But I'll do whatever it takes. I'll wait as long as I need to, I'll spend the rest of my life makin' it up to you, prove to you that-"

"I don't want to lead you on, Joel," you said solemnly, eyes watering. "I can't promise I'll ever move past it. I'm not sure we're strong enough to get through this."

"Yes, we are," he told you adamantly, "I don't want anyone else. I only want you. You ain't leadin' me on because I don't wanna go anywhere else. I don't care what that looks like in the future, I'll take whatever you give me, that's all I want."

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the wobble in his voice, and looked into the living room, the framed photo of your house that Ellie drew for you several Christmases ago, the same one you read about in your journal, catching your eye, and you felt yourself tear up.

I just want to go home, you thought, but home no longer existed. This was your home, like it or not.

You turned away, looking out the window over the sink blinking back tears, but Joel had already followed your gaze to the photo.

"I should get going," you said, voice thick. You chugged whatever coffee you could and dumped the rest in the sink.

"I'm gonna make it up to you," he said, following you to the door, "I'm gonna make this right." You scoffed.

"Yeah, okay," you mumbled sarcastically, shoving on your boots and coat before swinging open the door and heading out into the frigid winter morning, big flakes of snow slowly swirling and falling from the sky as Joel watched you trudge down the street, hunched over and curled in on yourself. A shell of the person he knew you to be.

He did that. He caused you pain. And it made him sick.

But at least he finally thought of a way he could prove how much you meant to him.

Sweat covered your forehead by the time you made it to the infirmary, your wool knit cap to blame for the excessive heat pouring from your head while your face was ice cold. You yanked it off your head and shed your coat before making your way to the back, your hair sticking to your forehead. Nick was nowhere to be found, but one of the exam room doors was closed and you heard voices murmuring on the other side. Assuming he had an early patient, you pulled your hair back and got to work. It was supposed to be a quiet day. Nick wanted you to work on an updated inventory list after getting a big batch of supplies two weeks prior from an unexplored hole-in-the-wall pharmacy.

The exam room door swung open, the voices clearer now, and your shoulders stiffened when you recognized the patient. You should have assumed Angie would be there that day, but for some reason it hadn't occurred to you.

Your anger had diffused a bit since the night before, that raw, exposed nerve quelled by time, but that didn't stop you from glaring at her as she passed by the inventory closet. Her swollen eyes widened with fear when she saw you and for the first time, you got a good look at the damage you inflicted. Her nose was clearly broken, she was missing a tooth and both eyes were black and blue, but the cuts on her cheeks and lips were superficial, at best.

She kept walking, not daring to say a word in your direction as your eyes followed her out the door. When she left, Nick turned around with a sigh and crossed his arms.

"How're you feeling?"

You shrugged and turned back to your clipboard. "I'm alright."

"You look like shit," he said, sidling up next to you and plucking the ibuprofen from the shelf. He tapped out two pills and dropped them into your palm before closing the bottle, putting it back where it belonged. "Did you eat?"

With just a shake of your head you popped the pills, swallowing them dry before turning back to your task.

"You gotta eat something with those, it'll tear up your stomach," he said, disappearing down the hallway and coming back a few minutes later with an apple. You grimaced but took it anyway, unable to stop your mind from replaying the memory of peeling apples with Joel just a week prior. Before everything went to hell.

Nick watched you quietly for a moment as you chewed your apple slowly and read down the list of medications on your clipboard.

"Do you, uh," he began, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, "do you need someone to talk to?" You glanced up at him in surprise and he dropped his hand back to his side. "We don't have to talk about it. But I know you still feel like you're a stranger in this town, and that's gotta be tough." He scratched his greying chin as he glanced around the room and you had to fight back the laugh that bubbled up your throat. You couldn't help it.

He noticed the amused look on your face at his discomfort and pretended to be annoyed when he muttered, "just come find me if you wanna talk or whatever," but you knew it was just an act. Nick was typically a quiet man, kept to himself and hardly ever spoke to his patients, let alone you, his employee, about personal matters. The fact he was trying now must mean he really thought you needed it.

The older man disappeared down the hall to his office and you smiled to yourself, then focused back on work, grateful for something that took your mind off your misery, even if it was just for a moment.

"What the hell do you want?" Tommy scowled when he flung open his door to find his older brother waiting on the other side, hands shoved deep in his pockets, weight shifting foot to foot in an effort to keep warm.

"C'mon, Tommy, I'm gettin' it from all angles, here."

"I don't give a shit," he spat, turning on his heel to retreat back into the house, but left the front door open. Joel took a step inside and quietly shut the door behind him, glancing around the entryway and peering into the living room as he took off his outerwear.

"Maria home?"

"No, she's down at the stables with Violet. Showin' her the horses, gettin' her outta the house," he grumbled, angrily putting away dishes as he spoke. Joel sighed and flattened his palms against the counter.

"I gotta ask for a favor."

Tommy scoffed and shook his head. "You're a piece of work, y'know that?"

"Yeah, I fuckin' know. Jesus Christ, Tommy, I made one goddamn mistake!" Joel yelled, slapping his hand against the cool countertop. Tommy twisted around, brow furrowed, and crossed his arms.

"Don't take an attitude with me," Tommy said through clenched teeth, "I don't give a shit if everyone's gangin' up on you. You deserve it! I thought she was the one you wanted to spend your life with? The one you'd do anythin' for?"

"She is!" Joel exclaimed, raking his fingers through his hair. Tommy's eyes softened while he watched his brother struggle, the enormity of what he did clearly taking its toll.

"Then what the fuck were you thinkin'?" he asked after a few moments, tone pleading. "Everythin' was goin' so well. You guys were havin' a nice time at the party, laughin' and smilin', we all saw it. Then you take 'er home and step out like that?"

"It's not- I was drunk and misread some things," Joel replied, rubbing his eyes with the pads of his fingers. "I tried to kiss her, she shot me down and I didn't take it all that well, alright?" Joel dropped his hand, exasperated, and looked at Tommy once again, taking a deep breath. "Went to the bar to drink and Angie sunk her claws into me. I got the hell outta there and confessed the second I got home but... didn't matter," he said, hanging his head between his shoulders.

"Angie said you followed her into the bathroom, Joel. Don't bullshit me, I was sittin' right there."

"I know, Jesus, it's my fault. I was drinkin' and upset and she was just... there. Pesterin' me and pushin' my buttons. It was only a second, Tommy. Nothin' else happened, y'hear me?" Joel's eyes were wide and desperate as he stared at his little brother across the kitchen.

"It's no excuse, Joel," Tommy said sadly. Joel pushed off the counter with a huff and yanked angrily at his disheveled hair again.

"I know that. I'm just tellin' you how it went down. But I gotta make it up to her. I gotta make it right."

"How the hell do you plan on doin' that? 'Cause from where I'm sittin', only way she could move past it is if I take her back out into the woods so she can hit her head again and forget," Tommy said.

Joel rolled his eyes and slumped into a chair at the kitchen table.

"I got an idea. Don't know if it'll work, but it's all I can think of to prove what she means to me," he said softly, staring down at his fingers twisting together in his lap.

Tommy sized his brother up and down before taking a few steps closer, his hands coming to grip the back of a chair as he leaned forward.

"Let's hear it."

Joel sighed and tilted his chin up. "I need a week off from patrol. I gotta leave Jackson. And I need a horse."

"What?" Tommy asked incredulously. "In the middle of winter? Absolutely not. You'll die out there."

"I survived out there before I came to Jackson, I'll be fine."

"Been a long fuckin' time and you weren't alone when you did it," Tommy argued.

"You offerin' to help?" Joel asked, and Tommy laughed dryly. But Joel continued to stare at him.

"You're serious, aren't you?"

"'Course I am," Joel replied, "she ain't ever gonna forgive me but I gotta do somethin', Tommy. I can't lose her, and right now, it really feels like I'm gonna lose her." Joel's voice cracked and he turned away, looking out the window so Tommy couldn't see the emotion behind his eyes.

Tommy groaned and yanked a chair out to sit down.

"What'dya need me to do?"

It was a long day on your feet and your face hurt more than you cared to admit, so by the time you arrived home, you decided to make yourself a sandwich and go to bed early, skipping an appearance at the dining hall where you knew half the town would be gawking at you and your wounds, anyway.

Fortunately, Joel was up in his room with the door closed when you quietly snuck upstairs with your sandwich. You were still emotionally exhausted from your brief conversation that morning and you were grateful he wasn't looking to have another one.

Nick had sent you home with one of the good pills, as he called it, so you took it with your meal and within the hour, you were out cold. Maybe if you hadn't taken the pill, you would have been awake to hear Joel's bedroom door squeak open, the rustling of fabric and the tinkling of metal cutting through the quiet hallway as he gripped his sleeping bag in one hand and his backpack stuffed with supplies in the other.

Like he usually did, he paused outside your room, his eyes lingering on the doorknob, ears straining for any sign that you were awake, that maybe you had a change of heart and he could call the whole trip off, but he was only met with silence.

He swallowed and turned towards the stairs, quietly tiptoeing down and packed another bag with food from the pantry before setting all three items by the door. At the last minute, he decided to leave a note, not even certain you would notice or care he was gone, but he knew Tommy would be furious when he found out he lied to him earlier and he really didn't want his brother to waste manpower trying to hunt him down in the wilderness. So he grabbed a pen from a drawer and an old envelope. The tip of his pen hovered over the paper as he struggled with what to say, then finally decided to keep it brief before scribbling his note, leaving it by the coffee maker where he knew you would see it.

Lastly, he strode into the living room and grabbed one more thing, shoving it into his backpack before piling on his layers and heading out the front door, giving the house one last forlorn glance before slipping quietly into the night.

It was your day off, so naturally you allowed yourself to sleep in a little, hoping that the extra rest would help your bruises to heal. At the very least, you were pleased to discover the pain around your throat was significantly better than the day before.

You didn't hear Joel when you got up, but that was typical. He usually had early morning patrol shifts and was back by the afternoon, but when you came downstairs and saw the coffee wasn't made like it normally was, you froze. Your eyes drifted around, noticing his coat and boots were missing.

Maybe he was running behind and just didn't have time to make coffee.

As unusual as that might be, it was the only logical conclusion until you walked over to the coffee maker and saw an aged envelope sticking out of your favorite mug. You frowned and picked it up, eyes quickly scanning the words once, then three more times before the panic set in, your stomach churning worse and worse each time.

Tell Tommy I'll be back in a week.

He knows why.

No matter what, just know I love you with my whole heart, in this world or the next.

Joel

Boots unlaced and coat unzipped, you raced down the street towards Tommy's house, the envelope gripped tightly in your fist.

What the hell did that mean? Where did he go? What is he doing? And why did he sneak out without telling Tommy?

You banged on the door, the wood rattling violently under your clenched fist, only afterwards realizing you could have been waking their daughter but fortunately when the door opened, you saw Violet and Maria playing in the living room over Tommy's shoulder.

"What's goin' on, sugar? You okay?" he asked, voice filled with concern when he saw the look on your face.

"Joel's gone," you said hurriedly before pushing past him and entering the house, yanking off your hat and exchanging glances with Maria from across the room.

"Gone? What'dya mean, gone?"

"I mean I woke up today and he was gone, Tommy!" you exclaimed, handing him the note. "Where did he go?!"

You were aware your voice was panicky, that your eyes were wide with fear and your breath was fast and shallow, but you didn't care how it looked to them in that moment.

Tommy scanned the note and sighed, rubbing his forehead before urging you to join him in the living room, where he collapsed onto the sofa.

"That idiot," he murmured under his breath, handing you back the envelope.

"Where is he, Tommy?" you tried again, hoping to sound less frantic this time.

He glanced at Maria before meeting your gaze.

"He was here yesterday afternoon. Told me he needed a favor. Said he needed a week off from patrol and a horse."

"To do what?" you pressed, sinking down into an armchair next to the couch.

"He said-" he cut himself off and looked down at the note in your hand, ticking his jaw to the side as if he was contemplating how much to tell you.

"Spit it out," you demanded, and his eyes snapped back up to you.

"Said he had a plan to make things up to you. For, y'know," he waved his hand in the air, not wanting to say it. You shook your head.

"What was his plan?"

"He wouldn't tell me everything but I offered to help," Tommy admitted, glancing guiltily at Maria who shot him a surprised glare. "Said he needed to go to California, that he wanted to bring a piece of you back. I'm guessin' you're from out that way?" Tommy asked, and you nodded slowly. "He said he would wait 'til I talked to Maria and worked out the schedule but I guess he decided to fuck off-"

"Tommy!" Maria scolded sharply, covering Violet's ears, and Tommy cringed.

"Sorry," he said softly before turning back to you. "Guess he decided to lone-wolf it."

Your eyes drifted back to the note in your hand, swallowing the lump in your throat while your mind raced to catch up.

"What if he doesn't make it?" you asked, eyes still glued to the envelope, "what if he dies out there and it's all my fault?"

They heard your voice waver and exchanged sympathetic looks.

"He made a choice, he knew the risks," Maria said, "but he's a capable guy. If there were anybody who could make it out there alone, it's Joel."

"Listen, I'd send a couple guys out there lookin' for him but there's a storm brewin'," Tommy said, rubbing his chin and glancing out the window. "Been watchin' those clouds build up over the mountains all week. Told Joel as much and he agreed to wait but reckon he changed his mind and wanted to get in front of it."

"Or it was his plan all along to leave alone and he just made sure no one would come after him," Maria said, making the three of you fall quiet.

"God, what do I do?" you murmured, burying your face in your hands.

Tommy glanced at Maria and she subtly nodded towards the kitchen. He stood and cleared his throat before reaching his arms out towards his daughter.

"C'mere, let's get you somethin' to eat before naptime," he said, lifting Violet and taking her into the kitchen to give you both some privacy.

"What's going on?" Maria asked softly as she sat down in Tommy's place on the couch. You sighed and dropped your hands to your lap.

"I don't know," you said truthfully, "I'm so fucking angry at him, but..."

Maria pursed her lips knowingly. "But you still care."

You groaned and leaned back into the chair. "Yes."

"It's not like you're telling me or anyone else something we didn't already know," she said, "not after what happened with you and Angie in the middle of the street. I mean, look at you," she pointed to your bruised neck. "No one fights like that for someone they don't love."

"I don't love him," you said sternly, eyes flashing angrily in her direction. "You sound like Ellie."

"Okay, so if two people are telling you-"

"I don't want to talk about it right now," you abruptly stood up, brushing your palms on your jeans. "Sorry to barge in like this. I'm sure he'll be fine. I'm actually looking forward to a week of quiet," you tried to say confidently despite how tight your throat felt as you headed towards the door.

Maria called your name as she trailed after you, urging you to stay and talk, but you just pressed your lips together and shook your head.

"Seriously, I'm fine," you said, forcing a smile across your face. "I have some stuff to do so I'll see you guys at dinner or something."

Before she or Tommy could say anything else, you slipped out the door and rushed down the street, back towards home.

It wasn't until later that afternoon, after you had scrubbed clean the kitchen and bathrooms, doing anything and everything you could to stay busy, that you noticed the missing picture from the wall in the living room.

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[kadwrites]

future mrs shelby | T.S

previous part | next part

or check out the series masterlist

summary ; the dreaded day arrives.

warnings ; arranged marriage!trope, anxious reader? , mommy issues, slow burn,

a/n ; shit will go down next part , but lmk know what you think of this one?

-

"mrs gray" your back is straight when you speak to her, truth be told you never got over the fear you have of her

"polly." she corrects you,

"polly." you repeat, you couldn't help but repeat it when she said it in that stern voice of hers

"so ya want to meet the in laws aye?" polly's smirk is there, as it always was.

"i told 'er she doesn't 'ave to." the smirk must be a genetic thing

"but i really want to." you add, with a nod

"she has manners, this girl." she points at you with her cigarette "almost too good for ya."

"almost?" he glares at you for a second after you spoke "i do 'ave a question for ya, polly."

she looks at you, nodding slightly

"tommy says they won't like me"

"they probably won't." she exhales the smoke before speaking again "we are not very accepting of outsiders."

"how can i make them accept me?"

"ya don't."

"what?" your brows pinch together "but i want to."

"i know" she nods again "but ya shouldn't, ya shouldn't go out of your way to 'ave someone respect ya. ya show them who ya are and they'll learn." she taps her cigarette against the ash tray "remember that backbone that i told ya about?"

you hated the way you were sometimes. you hated that you wanted people to like you , maybe it's because you were wired to. "a lady is always pleasant and always seeks to be loved." your mother always said. the thought of your own husband's family hating is making your head hurt

"yeah i remember" you're chewing the inside of your cheek, you didn't even notice that your feet were tapping against the floor

"why are ya so stressed about this? who fucking cares if they don't love ya?" tommy mutters as he lights up his own cigarette

"so what am i supposed to do now? wait till the party to meet them?"

"you'd be too stressed to care what they think of ya." polly adds, her eyes are making you squirm in your seat. no matter how often she did that, she still intimidated you.

"i think i'm going to be sick." your arm is wrapped around tommy's as you both walk through the long corridor that leads to the ballroom, where all the guests are.

everything feels overwhelming. your grandmother's diamond necklace that you insisted on wearing feels like it's digging into your throat. your dress feels too tight, the silk feels somehow hot. your shoes feel like they're going to slip off your feet. your hair feels like it's wound too tight, but feels like it might come undone at the same time.

he hold back a laugh and it's your turn to glare at him "it's not funny"

"never said it was." he's smiling though "it's just a party , relax."

"easy for ya to say, this is what ya lot do." you mumble , your eyes stuck at the end of the corridor

"us?"

"yeah, rich people i mean."

"i wasn't always rich, ya know." he looks forward as well as you both walk

"but ya were born to be rich." you didn't even think of those words, or even seem to care what he thinks, your words come out with a nervous breath laced around them, listening to the sounds of music and people celebrating

but he turns to look at you, and you didn't even notice that.

you take a deep breath, straightening your back and putting on the best smile you can muster as you walk into the party, people turn to the both of you. the greetings and congratulations start.

tommy speaks calmly, you envy him. he looks like he belongs there, between the aristocrats that fill the room.

tommy looks nothing short of dashing. his suit is perfect, not a wrinkle in sight. his demeanor is cool, in control, which he always is.

"mr shelby, congratulations!"

"congratulations thomas, it's a beautiful party"

"ya look gorgeous, miss. congratulations on the engagement"

"best of luck to the both of you!"

you just smile and nod, thanking them. you almost can't even see their faces, too anxious and too stressed.

"tommy."

that voice makes your eyes focus , your vaguely familiar with it.

it's his brother, arthur. you still keep your smile, though you can feel your hands sweating.

"arthur."

"so this the future mrs tommy shelby, aye?" he looks at you with a raised brow, you can't decipher the look.

"yes it is." you keep your voice at a steady tone , with that same smile "ya must be arthur , it's a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance."

"ya speak too posh for a farmer's girl." his words seem a little slurred , now that you're listening well

"and ya speak too poorly for a rich man." your head is still held high.

tommy glances at you then back at his brother , he looks almost proud.

"did ya teach 'er to say that?" he smirks at his brother

"i'm not a parrot , arthur. he didn't teach me anything." you let out a chuckle, you pick up a champagne flute from one of the trays that the waiters carry "it's a party right? , let's celebrate, ey?, grab yourself a drink" you lift your champagne flute "cheers" you say before taking a sip, and tommy walks, dragging you with him

"is your whole family going to be like that?" your nervousness now shows as you throw back your champagne flute, drinking all of it

"yes" he looks at you with a smile , he takes the glass away, "don't get drunk, it's too early."

"right." you try to take deep breaths, you look around the venue.

it's perfect, it's everything you've ever wanted, everything you've ever dreamed of. the cake, the music, the drinks, the decorations. nothing is out of place, except for you, or that's how you feel.

how are you ever going to fit into this life? how many of those parties are you going to have to attend or host?

your train of thought is quickly interrupted by fiona and madeline who look like they might combust with excitement

"oh my god ya look gorgeous!" madeline hugs you and fiona is by your side

"ya look stunning!"

tommy clears his throat and madeline freezes

"madeline and fiona, right?" he raises a brow, how did they not notice him?.

madeline pulls back, and both of them look at eachother

you laugh, you feel as if all that weight was lifted off your chest by just seeing their faces

"madeline , fiona" you smile "this is tommy, in case ya're too drunk to recognize 'im."

"she talks about ya two a lot ya know."

"she does?" fiona laughs nervously "it's a pleasure to meet ya , sir."

"congratulations!" madeline says with a smile

"thank you," he smiles at them, and you think both of them might actually turn to dust.

"where is celest?" your question made them both look at you again

"she's......." fiona trails off

"um...." madeline chimes in, with nothing.

you close your eyes shut at that "fuck me."

she and your mother had a fight, is what that means.

"what the fuck 'appened this time then?"

"celest wore your mother's necklace." fiona says quietly,

the ruby necklace.

she had to do something, she just had to somehow do something to ruin this.

"where's is she now?" your voice is too quiet and it makes madeline squeak

"in one of the room , she's crying i think."

-

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[doukeshi-kun]

imagine visiting stalker!Kolya before a show, staying with him inside his campervan. Could it be painting his nails, trying makeup on him or just playing with his hair as reader and him cuddle?

I love domestic scenarios ☹️🤍 (plus, I developed an obsession for stalker!Kolya)

𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙠𝙚𝙧!𝙣𝙞𝙠𝙤𝙡𝙖𝙞 + 𝙘𝙪𝙙𝙙𝙡𝙚𝙨

replies ⨳ nikolai is supposed to be obsessed with us, not the other way around ( ಡ⁠ ͜⁠ ⁠ʖ⁠ ⁠ಡ) btw thanks for pulling me out of writers block lmao enjoy this short drabble gshdjsh

notes ⨳ stalker!nikolai series

contents ⨳ fluff, obsessive thoughts, fem!reader

Nikolai is nervous.

His brain is short-circuited and he cannot stop staring at you. He has around five more hours before he has to leave for a show, though he still has some paperwork to review. And yet here he is, on the bed, with his girl lying against his body, carefully painting baby blue nail polish on his nails.

He found out—through... interesting method—about your sudden interest in nail arts. He even bought a complete set of manicures for you, intended to surprise you with the set once he visited you. But you came to visit him instead, and thus he decided to just give you straight away.

“Do you want a small flower?” your question snaps him out as he glances at his blue nails. Your hand is holding his, checking whether his thumbnail is dried or not. Nikolai swallows hard. His skin flares when he realises how close you two are, how he could smell you, how he could feel you. His finger twitches when he sees your skin is touching his.

Too much. Too much. You're too much.

Even after so many months, you're still too much for his poor heart.

“I-I do,” Nikolai says, smiling softly at you. You turn your face towards him and he almost gasps by how close your faces are—I could kiss you right now. I really want to kiss you. Please, I really want to kiss you. May I, love? I'll be good. Just a kiss, please, little dove.

“You okay? You seem to be... out of it,” you ask, reaching for a small packet of nail ornaments.

“Can I kiss you?”

You raise your eyebrow. It's rare for Nikolai to ask permission to kiss. He doesn't even ask permission to invade your house while you're sleeping and yet here he is, with puppy eyes, baby blue nails and a beige sweater, asking if he can kiss you. You nod slowly and Nikolai giggles happily before he leans forward, kissing your lips. shortly.

“Haha! I'm happy!” he exclaims before he kisses you again. You cannot help for a smile crook on your lips at his childish reaction.

“Ooh! You smile! How adorable!” Nikolai cups your face with his hands, pulling both your cheeks together so that they pucker your lips. “I'm gonna fucking eat you, I swear to God,” he whispers.

Whatever he means by 'eat' —whether literally or sexually, you do not really want to know.

“F-Funny....” you mutter before you tap his arm. “Let me go or you won't get a flower on your thumb,” and Nikolai is quick to obey you, pulling his hands away and offering his painted thumbnail. You glance at him for a second—noticing his gaze is darkened. You decide to ignore it for now. You may have an idea of what Nikolai might be thinking, but he is one unexpected guy. Everything he does seems spontaneous even when he has planned for it long beforehand.

As you're sticking the daisy charm on his nail carefully, your phone rings. You reach it and Nikolai leans forward, trying to listen to your conversation just because he can. You shoo him, pushing him by his chest to give yourself a personal space because he is invading almost every one of your spaces. Pouting, Nikolai huffs and stays on his spot as you answer the phone.

But Nikolai is not giving up. He leans just slightly, enough to see the name on the screen. A common name for men. And he finds his heart races faster when he hears a faint masculine voice talking to you on the other side. Nikolai frowns—well, this enthusiasm doesn't seem nice.

He could barely hear what's the man babbling about, so he depends on your facial expression to figure out what's happening. He could hear muffled, jumbled words like 'work', 'rejected', 'apply', 'coffee', 'out', 'free time', 'help', 'together'—

No.

“That would be wonderful. Thanks. Yeah! Okay, see you there. Thank you so much.”

You end the call, finally looking at Nikolai who is now quiet. You sigh, knowing he probably listened to chunks of your conversation with the hiring man. “Kolya...” you call softly as you scoot closer again to him. Your hands tangle themselves in his fluffy hair, caressing his soft white strands.

“You goin' on a date?” Nikolai pouts.

“It's for work, Kolya... He'd help me to secure another position I've applied for. It's not a date.” you explain carefully. It's not that your current job at the cafe is bad, but you need a more stable financial source. Though Nikolai has offered to take care of you fully, you still want to work for yourself.

"Hm~ I know." Nikolai leans closer, exhaling softly at the way your hand caresses his head. He finds himself getting more possessive and easy to get jealous when it comes to you. He needs more time to think rationally when it comes to keeping you around with him.

“I trust you. You won't—” he hugs you tighter, closer. “—leave me, right?”

Your bodies are embracing one another. You bury your face in his chest as your hands caress his hair and face and neck and shoulder and chest.

“Don't you leave me,” he warns. He makes a large step forward and grabs your arm tightly. “You do not leave me. I love you so much. I love you to the Hell and Heaven. I will not let you leave. We are meant to be together, love, we are meant to be! I need you in my life. I need you, to be my freedom. You and I, we complete each other, little dove.” his mouth is forming a deranged smile as he begins to get impatient.

A distant memory rushes past your mind. You stay still before a soft nudge of his knee against your stabbed thigh pulls you out of that lane of memory. You tug on him tighter and look up at him. You hold his face, kissing his lips slowly, once again making sure of yourself. He moans lowly and smirks against your lips. His hand holds the back of your head as he returns your kiss.

Words aren't enough to describe your declaration to him. It's enough to just—I won't leave you.

©doukeshi-kun 2023 — do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, more @/cherikolya

if you like my works, consider buy me a ko-fi!

[weirdplutoprince]

What is Brazil like? What are your favorite things about it, least favorite things, and some day to day experiences that people not from there might not know about? Do you have any tidbits of culture you find interesting or are fond of?

Oh that's a big question! First of all it's huge lol. Unsure how accurate this specific map is, but if you google 'Brazil size' you find a dozen of these 'which countries fit in each states of Brazil' maps, so.

This is particularly relevant to everything I answer further ahead, because since it is so big and so culturally complex anything I say is just going to be a tiny speck compared to different regions.

And besides its size, Brazil had a lot going on colonization and immigration wise - meaning you have regions that have very notable communities from certain countries of the world. A famous example is that, if I recall correctly, we have the biggest japanese settlement of sorts outside of Japan. So that's something!

A funny side effect I can think that relates to this is that in historical novelas (live action television series that air daily and are known for melodrama and intensity) there is always a character that can be roughly described as 'The Sexy Irrevent Italian Immigrant' which is funny lol.

As for my favourite things I think the culinary is definetely a big one!!! There are so many dishes and they are so delicious all the time forever.

Brigadeiros are my favourites from all times, they're this candy made of condensed milk and chocolate powder, thats finished off with sprinkles. It's so yummy, you can also make it into cake filling and a million different things.

I also love Acarajé!! I think properly explaining what they're made off is a bit beyond my english vocabulary but just know its a fried dough that has yummy fillings and shrimp.

Otherwise I think I also like how warm and friendly people are. There's also this humour in how things are handled and seem which I think it's nice. Again, this is a perception I get from the region I live in, so I'm not sure. Though this is something people here tend to complain about when they go to other countries, so I guess it is at least some sort of significant cultural difference!

Least favourite things are the ever present fear of impeding violence and the blatant social inequality.

Day to day things hmmm. I have no parameter for how it goes out there, but I've heard enough stories that indicate this might be a thing: showering multiple times a day lol. I'm from a hot place so there is that, but this does seem to be a cultural thing as well. Like, I've heard of landlords from other countries complaining of brazilians that use 'too much hot water' because we shower a lot.

Just caring about cleaness a lot in general. Like, again I'm not sure which of these things are cultural outliners but from what I've heard, even things like. You go out, as soon as you go home you take off the 'going out clothes' and shower. And you avoid sitting on the bed sheets with 'going out clothes' etc.

Another thing is that is is very culturally acceptable to be late! To the point where being on time is at times more awkward. Like, say, if a party is said to start at 7 PM, people generally arrive closer to 8PM. I can remember a few birthdays I'd attended as a child where if you arrived 'on time' you'd basically be the only guest present and there would be this awkward air of 'Why Are You Already Here'.

I've also heard we say things we don't mean more? Like half heartedely making plans to go out with a friend or be there a certain day - but its kinda expected that neither side will follow through unless you constantly check up with each other during the days leading to it. I think this steems from a general need to be pleasant and friendly so people don't want to say they won't go or just outright refuse things without coming up with excuses etc.

And at last for tidbits of culture: CHILDREN BIRTHDAY PARTIES FUCKING RULE!!! HARD!!! Even if you're middle class or such it is not uncommon for parties to have trampolines, magicians, clowns, children entertainers etc. A shit ton of decoration, little gifts for the guests to take home (usually cheap toys or candy), themed birthday invitations, themed parties with decorated pannels, a shit ton of candy etc. There's even this sorta common agreement that even if you're bored because you'll be the only adult there, it is fun to attend children birthday parties because you'll eat like a king.

I think thats it!!! I hope that answers it! Thanks for the question :3

[wildemaven]

Sweet Creature: Chapter Five

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

WC: 5129

Warnings: 18+ blog; mentions of food, language, sexual innuendos, two dumb dumbs who lack communication skills, working on sobriety, failed relationships, loneliness, references to hookups and bad dates, I think that’s it but like always please let me know if I missed anything.

A/N: Reader gets her nickname!!!!! This was a fun one to write! I got stuck in parts of it, but over all I’m so happy with it. I don’t want to give too much away by setting anything up. Big thank you to my dear @gnpwdrnwhiskey for her constant support and beta reading through this whole thing! She’s a gem! Everyone who’s been reading, reblogging, commenting, liking, lurking— THANK YOU! 💕

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“So, I take it things are good then? You both seem to be pretty, chummy with each other lately.”

“Yeah, since our talk, things have been—good.” 

“Good?”

“Yeah, Good.”

The waitress stops by your table, refilling each of your water glasses, the clinking of the ice filling the silent break in your conversation. 

“Thank you.” Diem’s sickly sweet voice offers gratitude to the waitress before the young girl is carrying on about her work and then Diem redirects her gaze to you, her overly generous smile morphing into a questioning smirk, accompanied by a cocked eyebrow. 

“What’s that look for?”

“Good?”

“Uh yeah, that’s what I said.”

“So, now that you and Dieter are good, as you say, we’re just going to pretend what you said didn’t happen?”

“Would mind clueing me in on the conversation that’s happening right now, ‘cause I’m so fucking lost.” 

“That night at my house, what you had said about Dieter.”

“Ugh, Diem! We’ve already hashed this shit out. Plus, Dieter and I’ve been on good terms for a couple weeks now, let’s just not discuss what I said that evening.” 

“No, I’m not talking about that— the other thing you said that we have not discussed at all since you said it because the two of you were, and frankly might still be, idiots.”

“Oh my god, Diem! When I told you I was into edging, I didn’t mean like this— for fuck sakes woman, spit it out!” Grabbing for your glass of water, you take a sip to cool off your annoyance that is starting to simmer. 

“The part where you said my brother was attractive—“

Diem doesn’t even get a chance to finish the rest of what she is saying because you nearly choke on your drink, water spraying from your mouth back into your glass at the remembrance of what you had said. 

“Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah, I’m fine.” Wiping the water droplets with your napkin. 

You had honestly forgotten about it. Forgotten about what you said, not about the thought— honestly, it still rang true. 

The more time you spend with him, even if only for brief periods of time as you both got to know each other, you undoubtedly found Dieter Bravo attractive— he was caring, sweet, funny, and his almost chaotic personality only added to your growing attraction for him. 

“So?”

“I don’t even know how to answer that.”

“So you do then— find my brother attractive.”

“Sure, whatever.” You hope your nonchalant response is enough to outwit the surge of questions she’s hurling at you. 

“You know, for someone who works with kids regularly, you’d think at some point you’d learn how to lie better than them.” 

“Fine! Yes, I think he’s attractive. There I said it, are you happy now?” 

The check is dropped between the both of you, your hands quickly grabbing for it to avoid the back and forth on whose turn it is to pay this time, you place your card in the designated slot and place the receipt book on the edge of the table.

“You know this means I have to set you two up, like it’s my duty as a best friend to you.”

“You do it, and your best friend title gets revoked! Do not say a word to him, I am begging you! This isn’t middle school, I don’t need you playing matchmaker. Plus, we’ve just barely started talking, so just leave us alone.”

“You’re no fun. I’m sure he’d be into you though, I can always ask—“

“You are insufferable.” You chuckled, signing your scrawled signature on the receipt. “Seriously though, please don’t. I’m good with just being his friend and getting along like we are— we don’t need to throw feelings into the mix.”

She nods in agreement, but the scheming look she is giving makes you think she’s plotting something. 

“Oh, I just remembered— I won't be able to bring Wren, something came up so Dieter is going to be bringing her to art class this week.” 

“What something?” 

“Something— when I figure out what it is, I’ll let you know.”

“I hate you!” Tossing your crumpled napkin at her, Diem’s laughter rising as you roll your eyes, grabbing for your to-box and purse. 

“I love you too!”

*

The chorus of a slow ballad hangs in the air of the empty gallery room, the euphonious melody sandwiched between poetic precision, eliciting a longing for a tangible moment you weren’t sure you would ever experience. 

Relationships never really seemed to work in your favor, not for a lack of trying on your part, you just seemed to always find the ones who never really wanted to advance into the seriousness that comes as relationships progress. 

You still kept your mind open to the possibility of finding someone who had the similar interests and desires as you, never really closing the door on relationships as a whole. Dating gave? you great conversations with potential partners, and hookups satisfied that carnal itch your vibrator couldn’t touch. 

You threw yourself into your work at school and your art to keep your mind off the fact that it had been over a year since you were last in a relationship, or had sex for that matter. 

Settling into a new town, it was intimidating to put yourself out there, every one of your dates had been disastrous setups that ended before the dinner checks ever came. 

For now, you were relying on fate to decide whether you were destined for a lifetime of solitude or not. 

You sailed through setting up for an evening of painting. Brushes laid out next to a plastic tray filled with tiny squares, dried chalky pigments begging for thirst and attention. Dense papers, laying neatly on top of two family style tables, waiting for imaginations to spill over onto its textured surface. 

Every class was a mixture of locals who were looking to further their own skills, tourists trying to immerse themselves into the happenings of the town, and a few who were convinced to be there against their will not realizing they would be leaving with a new hobby. 

The attendees slowly started to meander in. A few browsing the art on display as they enter the front of the gallery, a tell-tale sign they are the tourists of the group this evening, while the others don’t hesitate to find a seat pulling out their own personal art supplies and setting up their space. 

“We’re here! We’re here!” Wren zooming in like a tornado , little voice echoing off the cement floor of the building as she announces her arrival. 

“Hi!” Dieter trails in behind her, a shy wave and gleaming smile directed at you. 

The nervousness you had felt when Diem said he would be taking her spot tonight, now replaced with something more substantial, an awakened warmth penetrating through every wall you had built up over the years. 

Your breath catches as he makes his way closer to where you’re standing, his smile shifting into a toothy grin, suddenly making your knees increasingly weak with every step he takes— what is he doing to you?

“Hey!” You manage to croak out. 

“So wild to see it like this.” He looks around the open room, as if to recall all the memories that had been etched onto every wall over the years. “It was a general store growing up. My buds and I would scrounge up enough change in the summer for ice cream cones and a coke. Then we sat out front on the curb, planning what kinda trouble we wanted to get into.”

You can see it too. 12 year old Dieter, all gangly limbs with his wavy dark locks a tousled mess. A buoyant young soul, not knowing what it’s like to be broken and blue. You know though that 12 year old Dieter would be proud to see how hard he’s worked to be where he’s at right now. 

You’re looking forward to seeing this side of him tonight, Dieter the artist, to observe the way he’s able to construct a visual representation of what ambles about in his mind. 

“Looks like you got a good turn out tonight, this should be fun.” He says as he looks around at the now filled seats. 

“Y-Yeah. Don’t be fooled though— Betty and Marilyn,” Casually pointing to the two older ladies, all set up and straight faced waiting for your instruction. “They take these classes way more seriously than blackout bingo. No one’s allowed to talk or ask questions, otherwise you’re on the receiving end of their threatening glares.”

“Huh— Well, tonight’s gonna be interesting then.”

“Uncle Dude! I saved you a seat by me!” Wren shouts at Dieter, her hand frantically smacking the table, indicating the vacant seat next to her. 

“I guess that’s my cue. I’d say good luck, but I don’t think you need it.” He seals it with a wink as he gives your arm a squeeze, the gesture has become a sort of regular thing for him. 

“Fuck!” It’s barely a whisper as you turn your back to everyone, mentally putting yourself in check.

This budding friendship between you and Dieter was refreshing, and the last thing you would have expected. The both of you had become so intertwined, mostly through the connection of Diem and Wren, but you both were beginning to thrive while in each other’s orbit. 

You just needed to get a grip on these spontaneous feelings, before it was too late. 

“Welcome friends! I see we have some familiar faces, as well as new ones tonight. For those who are new, tonight is a basics in watercolor. I’ll show you some techniques for the first half of the class, then in the second half you’ll be able to paint freely using the techniques. If there are any questions at any point in time, don’t hesitate to ask.”

Your eyes quickly scan over everyone’s faces, taking in the varying degrees of excitement, but lingering a bit when they land on Dieter. His head cocked to the side, attention undivided, taking in every word that fell from your lips. 

“We’re going to prep our paper first.” You grab a larger brush, dipping it into a cup of water. A few swift swirls around before lifting and allowing the excess water to flow back into the cup, then placing the brush directly onto the stark white paper. “This is a soaking method, not required, but it helps prevent buckling of the paper— some will soak longer, but this will do for tonight.”

As instructed, everyone sets out to prep their papers, drips of water litter the table’s surface as brushes move about. 

“Umm, ma’am? I have a question.” Dieter’s hand raised, stone face as he awaits to be called on. Betty and Marilyn’s brushes halt for a moment, side eyeing Dieter, before continuing the sweeping motions. 

“Uh, yes. I’ll try to have an answer for you.” You can’t fully read his expression, but you sense a playfulness in his voice. 

He takes a quick glance over to the two old women, then back to you. His movements calculated, forearms rest on the table as he leans forward, his question primed and ready. 

“In your opinion, do you find allowing more time to prepare and properly produce a precise wetness, helps with the stamina of the— paper?” Drawing his lower lip between his teeth, his focus never wavering from where you stand. 

The question so flagrantly sexual in its delivery, you assume a fluke with the way he asks it so flippantly. But you don’t miss the way his words unlock a needy appetite for more. Your body’s tragic lack of foreplay halted, now buzzing with enthusiasm at such an erotic statement. You do your best to control your heady thoughts and not allow his words to affect you in the slightest. 

“Well, I guess that would be dependent on if it’s worth being quick and simple, or whether the job requires to be drawn out and deliberate to get the desired results.” 

Dieter is surprised at how quickly you counter your response— touché. He has to avert his eyes, looking down instead at his hands as they fidget with the dry paint brush, fighting back the urge to laugh. 

“Now, we want to load up our wet brushes with pigment and you can play around with brush strokes. Smaller strokes, known as stippling, the paint will stay in place and pool up. Longer strokes will drag your paint around the surface of the paper, leaving a wash of color from dark to light. The results will also vary depending on the pressure you use, so feel free to mess around with them.”

You give a few examples of the different ways pressure can affect the flow of paint and the proper ways to angle the brush against the paper, everyone eagerly waits to apply the same techniques to their own work. 

Swirling your brush in the water to clean off the remaining color, the pigment suspended within the clear liquid. Blotting the brush on a towel, you take a few seconds to breathe, your face still warm after Dieter’s earlier comment. 

“Ma’am! I have another question, probably a silly one.” 

You bring your hand to your mouth to stifle the choking laugh that tries to escape your throat. You hold the brush in both hands, rolling between your fingers as you turn around to see Dieter’s hand raised yet again. 

“I’m sure you know this, but there’s no silly questions. Please, let’s hear it.” 

Your encouragement provokes annoyed huffs from Betty and Marilyn. 

“Yeah— so these, uh, strokes. Are we talking like long, steady strokes or— hurried and—“

*Snap*

The brush you were holding, now in two pieces. 

“Okay! I think that’s plenty of time spent on the basics. Go ahead and get started working on your own thing, I’ll be available if needed.” 

Tossing the now broken brush in the nearest trash bin and wiping your sweaty hands on your jeans, you make your way back to the tables. 

You make a point to stop and admire what each person is working on, commenting on their progress and giving assistance when needed. 

There’s a weird wave of emotions that overcome you, thinking about how this will all come to end with the closing of the gallery. Sure, there were other galleries in town, but none of them offered classes or had the space to do so. But, you were grateful to have been able to share this space with others who were just as excited about art as you were. 

Another reminder that you also don’t have a single thing ready for the final gallery exhibition, your own showing— mentally noting to start brainstorming ideas. 

Dieter and Wren were still working away as you made it to their end of the table, the best for last in your opinion. 

“What are you painting Wren?” Trying to decipher the colorful blobs sporadically placed, her little hands diligently picking up more paint than needed. 

“It’s flowers, see.” She picks up the sopping wet paper to showcase her work, the upright angle causes the paint to run downward resulting in endless drippy hues puddling onto the table. “They’re poppies!” 

“Oh! I see it now. Poppies are my favorite flowers too.” 

“I know.” Wren, clearly more observant than any other 6 year old you know. 

“Well, it’s beautiful. Your mom is going to love it!” 

Shifting your attention over to Dieter, your breath hitches at what he’s been able to execute in a short amount of time, but your heart nearly stops when you really focus on what he had painted. 

“Dieter—“

His brush stills, hovering over the inky black and white portrait. 

“You like it?” 

“Dieter, is that— me?”

“Umm, yeah. Sorry, I was just watching you up there and you were talking about everything— I could see this light in you, I don’t know, just felt really inspired by it.”

You’re speechless at his admission. 

“I— I don’t even know what to say. It’s incredible.”

“Thanks. I’ve never tried watercolor before, only ever used oil and acrylic paints. This was fun though.”

He feels slightly embarrassed, hoping he didn’t make things uncomfortable between the two of you. 

“Well, I think it’s beautiful. And would have never guessed this was your first time using this medium.”

You place a hand on his shoulder, a soft squeeze letting him know you’re touched by what he did. 

Once the classes have commenced, supplies cleaned and put away for the next time, you wait by the door to thank everyone and bid them goodbye. 

Dieter and Wren hung back a bit until everyone had left before making their way over to where you’re standing at the front of the building. 

“You two outta here?”

“Yeah, this one’s getting hungry, best get some food in her before she gets angry. Sorry about Betty and Marilyn earlier, they seemed to leave in a hurry too.”

“Don’t worry about them, they’ll be back next week.” You wave off his apology. “Thanks for coming tonight, I know it’s not anything special—“

“No, it was great. You could see how much everyone enjoyed it. Makes me miss when I used to paint regularly.”

“I have some extra things at home. I could throw together a little kit for you if you’d like.”

“You’d do that?”

“Of course! What’s your number? I’m just realizing I don’t have it.”

He recites his number for you, you promptly enter it into your contacts and save. 

“Uncle Dude?”

“What? What else am I supposed to call you? Friend?”

“Uh, Dieter…”

“Eh! Kind of boring.”

“Yeah, that’s boring Uncle Dude!” Clearly her ears work better than any other 6 year old too. 

“Okay, give me your number then, it’s only fair.”

Keeping the screen hidden as he types it into his contact list. 

“So, am I worthy enough of a fun name or not??” You playfully push at his shoulder.

Turning the phone around so you can see the screen, you see your number placed in the appropriate location and where your name would be, a nickname instead. 

“Poppy?” 

“Yeah, like your favorite flower.” 

*

Diem’s sitting at the counter, enjoying warmed leftovers, when Dieter and Wren walk through the front door.  

“We’re home! Birdie’s starving, insists she could eat the? a? whole restaurant.” 

Wren runs into the kitchen and climbs onto the counter height chair, dramatically lowering her upper body onto the counter. 

“Mama! I’m so hungry!”

“Here baby, eat this.” Diem slides her plate of pasta to her, her hand smoothing over her messy head of caramel colored hair. “Did you have fun at least?”

Dieter grabs a plate for himself, listening to Diem and Wren chat about the class, noticing Wren already peeking up after a few bites of food. 

“Lots of fun! We painted this time. I’m going to be the flower girl at Uncle Dude and Poppy’s wedding!” 

“Uncle Dude and Poppy’s wedding? Who’s Poppy?!”

“You know Poppy, Mama. She’s your best friend!”

Confused by what Wren is saying, Diem blinks in confusion in Dieter’s direction, he shrugs not having a single clue as to what Wren is talking about. 

“And why do you think Poppy and your Uncle are getting married?”

“Because! They did that thing that people do in the movies!”

Dieter eyes widen as he nearly chokes on the noodle he’s eating, his fist covering his mouth as he coughs loudly to hopefully change the subject away from you and him. 

“And what— t-thing would that be?” 

“They talk and look at each other a lot. You know, the way they do in the movies when they’re in love— duh!” 

“Hmm, well— that’s not how that works baby. Your Uncle and Poppy are just friends.” Trying to not break Wren's heart over the fact that she won’t be anyone’s flower girl at the moment. 

“But after you're boyfriend and girlfriend, you get married.”

“Technically true. But Wren, baby, Uncle Dude and Poppy aren’t boyfriend and girlfriend either— they’re just friends, that’s it.”

Wren tilts her head ever so slightly, her brows furrowed in contemplation. 

“But they have each other's phone numbers, like boyfriend and girlfriend’s do.” 

This is not what Dieter had expected when they arrived home, he had plans to relax and catch up on a show he had started recently. Instead, he’s listening to his niece conjure up wild stories about a nonexistent impending marriage and being romantically linked to you— yet the more he listens, he realizes you’re someone he could see himself with.

At first he only thought of it as a normal attraction towards you. From that first day at school, he was drawn to your beautiful smile, how you instantly lit up when your students waved their ‘good mornings’ as they entered your class. 

And if Dieter is truly being honest with himself, that night in the kitchen didn’t stall how thoroughly mesmerized he was by you. The more he thought about it, he realized you were the only one, aside from his sister, who called him out on his bullshit, something no one had done for a long time. 

After talking with his Sponsor and really taking the time to sit in his feelings and reflect on the situation. And the only conclusion he could come to, and the only one that made sense, was he needed to figure out how to make it up to you. 

He was thankful that you were receptive to the idea of still being around him, the amicable morning ‘Hello’s’ at school, fleeting glances from across the room during movie nights, tiny moments cementing these feelings for you. 

When you shared your past and reasoning for being so put off by him, he knew that was a turning point in the mending process between the both of you. Coming from two very different backgrounds, yet your upbringing’s weren’t all that different from each other. 

Tonight, watching you so absorbed in your element of teaching something you love, Dieter knew he needed you in his life anyway he could have you. 

“Okay, but friends give each other numbers too. Doesn’t mean they’re in a relationship, just friends.”

“Then why did Uncle Dude paint a picture of her in class tonight?”

“Okay, I think it’s bedtime for you little miss. Go brush your teeth and I’ll be in for story time in a minute.” Wren’s shoulders dropped at that, but Diem took Dieter’s silence for mortification and decided it was best to put an end to it. 

“Night Uncle Dude!” Wren shouted as she ran off to prepare for bedtime without any hesitation or arguments. 

“Night Birdie!”

A lull hung over the room. Dieter now leaning back against the counter edge, head down and arms folded over his chest, nervously chewing at his bottom lip. Diem still seated in her chair, glancing up at the ceiling, letting all of what Wren had shared settle for a moment. 

“How long?”

“How long, what?” His gaze shifting up to Diem, a line appearing between his brows as he waits for an explanation. 

“How long have you had feelings for her?”

“I don’t know what—“

“Dieter! I’m not dumb, and definitely not blind. It didn’t take a 6 year old stating the obvious to see how much you like her.”

A grin forms as he shakes his head and laughs, of course his sister would pick up on something like this. 

“I-I don’t know. I guess awhile at this point. Don’t know exactly when to pinpoint the time.”

“You should tell her.”

“Well, that’s not happening. Why? So, I can look like some fuckin’ idiot who’s been secretly falling for his sister’s best friend— yeah, I’ll pass.”

“Wait— Dieter, are you in love with her?”

“I, umm. Fuck! I don’t know— I think I—“

*BUZZ*

An incoming text message saves him from revealing exactly how he feels about you. 

Dieter pulls his phone from his pocket to see your name along with a message, up on the screen. The way his stomach flips, smiling from ear to ear, completely affected by a simple text message from you. 

Poppy 💐 - I hope this isn’t too late. I found those paints I mentioned earlier. Bringing them over, I’ll leave them on the porch. 

Uncle Dude - Not too late, just finishing dinner. Text me when you get here. 

“That’s her, isn’t it?” Diem’s smile mirroring his. 

“Mind your business.”

*BUZZ*

Poppy 💐 - Here!

“Gotta go, not a word out of you about any of this! Got it?”

“Okay, okay!” Diem’s hands thrown up in comical fashion heading for Wren’s room, then tossing one last punch before rounding the corner. “I’ll start looking for my Maid of Honor dress tonight!” 

Pushing off the counter in pursuit of the front porch, his eyes rolling at Diem’s lighthearted comment, Dieter finds you waiting for him— armed with a box full of tiny tubes of paint in every shade imaginable, paint brushes in an array of sizes and shapes, all curated by you for him. 

“Hey! Sorry again— I was just, excited to get this all together for you.” You say as you lift the box towards him. 

“It’s fine, Diem was just getting Wren into bed when you text. You didn’t have to do this, you know.” Grabbing the box from your extended arms, scanning over the contents, noting that you took the time to intentionally choose every item. 

“I wanted to. If there’s something you need that’s not in there, just let me know and I can check my supplies.”

“No, this is perfect. Thank you.”

He takes a good look at you as you stand before him, deciding there isn’t any lighting that doesn’t look good on you, the moonlight being his favorite so far— even in the twilight, you’re the most stunning thing ever. 

“I have an extra easel too. I just have to pull it out of the attic, but you’re welcome to use it.” Your fingers pick at the cuffs of your sweater, feeling flustered and warm as you try to remain calm, but the way Dieter is looking at you makes it hard. 

“I can come by whenever to grab it.”

*BUZZ*

Another notification comes through Dieter’s phone, placing the box down on the ground, he fishes his phone back out of his pocket. 

It’s an email, one he’s shocked to be receiving, his reaction baffled as he reads through it. 

“Is everything okay?” You can’t get a good read on his hushed state. 

“Umm, yeah— Yeah, everything’s fine. It’s from my agent. He said a director sent him a script, asking for me specifically for an upcoming project. Said he’s going to be sending over the scene lines for me to read over.”

“Oh my gosh! Dieter, that’s amazing!!” 

Your body launches at his, arms thrown around his neck, pulling his solid body against you. 

Instinctively, his own body begins to relax into yours, his hands slowly moving around and up your spine, taking a mental note of how perfect you feel against him. 

“Y-yeah, I guess it is.” He murmurs, but his response sounds less than thrilled. 

“Are you okay?” You pull back, still wrapped in each other's arms, so close, studying his features in a way you hadn’t done before. 

He thinks he is. Dieter had planned to be here, in his hometown, for a few months. Take the time to enjoy his time here with his family and lean fully into his sobriety. He thought it would be months, maybe a year, before he would hear from his agent about any potential parts, let alone be a top pick for a role and be sent a script. 

This was all supposed to be temporary, short lived and then move on with his life. 

That was until he met you. 

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

*

It’s the drag of his upper lip down the column of your neck, your head angled back to allow the slow pleasing movement. Brief pauses allow his tongue to delicately dance about, taste the warmth of your dewy skin. 

“Dieter—“ His name soft as  it falls from your lips. 

His large hand settles at the base of your neck, pulling you head back upright, thumb dragging across the apple of your cheek. 

Your body is buzzing, an ardent energy building through Dieter’s stimulating and capable advances. 

Dieter’s pillowy lips crash into yours, his tongue sweeping your bottom lip, begging for more of you— you oblige, licking into his mouth with earnestness. 

A tingle runs down your spine, gradually turning into a throbbing sensation that settles at your core. Needy and breathless, grabbing off anything you can reach for. 

Your hands clutching loose cottony fabric, your grip never faltering as you try to ground yourself in this mind-blowing moment. 

“Dieter, please!” A throaty whine carries through the air, a plea for anything to help careen you towards a blissful peak. 

“Dieter—“

Silence. 

Nothingness. 

No movement. 

Fleshy desires abandoned. 

*BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP*

The jolting sound of your alarm blares from your nightstand, you shoot up in a panic. 

Your room, your bed, alone. 

Your body depleted, pulse racing and chest heaving as you try to catch your breath, you fall back into the wall of pillows. 

The third night in a row this dream, nightmare, has plagued you. 

One minute he’s there, with you, surrounding you in an all-encompassing manner. 

Then he’s gone. 

Darkness. 

Alone. 

That night he got the email about the potential job, you were so happy for him, truly. Instinctively, you wanted to praise him, tell him how proud you were of him. There was a moment, a stillness, between the two of you. A spark, a flicker of something— gone when Diem’s voice called out for his help.

The truth was, Dieter is going to get this job, and then he’ll be gone. Back to his movie star world.  Enveloped in the same world that created the demons that he’s fought so hard to keep at bay. 

And you’ll be here. Alone. Like always. 

Throwing the covers off your sticky body, you pluck yourself from the comfort of your bed. Mindlessly, you find your way over to the chair in the corner of your room, your hands grabbing for the brown fuzzy coat that’s been draped over it for the past few weeks. 

You pull it on, nuzzling your face into the fluffy fabric, his musky scent still vibrant and sharp as it hits your nose. 

The floor is cool against your bare feet as you pad your way down to your sunroom that doubles as your art studio. 

Finally having inspiration for your exhibition.

Next

[illusivedark]

𝕒𝕔𝕥 𝕚𝕚𝕚. 𝕗𝕣𝕖𝕖-𝕦𝕤𝕖

》 series mlist

》 lee minho, hwang hyunjin

》 mature/explicit sexual content

》 8.8k

》 under-negotiated kink, blanket consent, penetrative sex, no barrier method+creampie, oral sex (m+f), threesome, anal sex, double penetration (a+v), dirty talk, themes of free-use throughout, humiliation, possession play, pet names, themes of degradation, praise, voyeurism, light themes of dumbification, alcohol consumption.

Upon checking your phone, the time reads about half past nine — much later than when you might typically take dinner, but it's special circumstances and you're not about to ruin the evening on account of your empty stomach.

Just ahead of you Minho leads the way with black hair perfectly slicked back and matching dress attire for the night out. The restaurant is quite a ways out from where either of you stay — well across town and into the more luxurious end of downtown — just another thing you wouldn't typically find yourself embarking on, but Minho seems to have that affect on you lately. It's expensive, that much you can tell; dimmed lighting and all other patrons dressed immaculately with shimmer and glitter sparkling from fingers, necks and ears alike. You're not far off, at least, you've done your best to fit in and you like to think you've done a pretty good job. No one will be able to tell your diamond necklace is fake from a distance, anyway.

As the hostess seats you across from one another at a small table placed in a corner near the bar, you take in your surroundings just that much more and large in part because you don't really know when the next time that you'll be taken to a place like this is. More than that, you're not entirely sure why it is that you're here tonight, anyway.

Minho appears to be in his element. This comes as no surprise given the line of work he's in and you're no stranger to how well off he is financially, either. A waitress comes to take drink orders from the both of you and he takes it as an opportunity to put in something for an appetizer, as well. He has a wine picked out to accompany dinner, and the cocktails that the two of you are to take now are meant as little more than something akin to foreplay preceding the main event.

The couple seated next to you are clearly on a date — evidenced by how touchy they are with arms stretched over the wood of the table to meet by skin. It serves as that much more of a reminder of how bizarre it is that Minho has brought you here, even with the sexual undertones of an establishment that, while shrouded in red ambient lighting, is very much intended for people embarking on romantic endeavors.

Or maybe it's just assumed that those embarking on sexual endeavors should also be embarking in them romantically. Frankly, you're not entirely sure where the line starts and ends lately, either.

Like this, Minho looks stunning. It's not far off from what you're used to seeing him when he comes around fresh from the office, but there's a particular, pointed air of casualness, intentional and mature mischievousness in how he is dressed that feels only removed enough from the realm of business-professional that it serves as an implicit reminder of just how much play very much is business to him, too. Three buttons left undone from the top of his shirt and no tie to be found — no belt, either — both things you've made it a point to notice before ever even being seated.

You don't know a lot about the agenda for tonight, but you figure that you do know the most important thing, and that is the fact that you are going to get fucked.

"Haven't been here in a while," Minho finally says, cutting the silence that only exists between the two of you. "Love this place, but it's a bit out of the way."

"Is this where you take all of your late-night hopefuls?" you playfully retort. He laughs.

"Maybe so. Would you be mad if I told you that it's never missed? Going to end the evening by yourself and catch a cab home after dinner?"

"Very funny," you say with a roll of your eyes. "I don't know that you needed to do all of this, I'm already sleeping with you, after all."

"Who said I brought you here because of that?"

Before you have a chance to really think about that response or any of the numerous deeper meanings that could potentially come from it, the waitress arrives with the drinks ordered, and Minho is quick to take a sip from his before thanking her and changing the subject with an intense swiftness that you can only gather to be utterly purposeful.

"You said you don't have anything to do tomorrow, right?"

Nodding, you sip from your drink as well. "Yeah, I made sure I had the time free since you were so insistent. What's with all of the mystery surrounding this, anyway?"

To that, Minho simply sits back against his seat, arms folding over his chest and with that devilish grin that you've grown so accustomed to in such a short amount of time.

"Guess you're just going to have to find out, now won't you?"

With dinner plates cleared and nothing more than wine glasses in hand (as well as a strictly imposed two-drink maximum for the evening — Minho's rules), you can't help but notice the way the man’s eyes linger on you with a seemingly growing interest as the evening festivities carry on. You can't quite place why, because nothing all that out of the ordinary has taken place. Going out to dinner together — hell, even getting dressed up to do so — isn't all that strange for the two of you, but perhaps it's something in regards to knowing that has him looking at you with something of a newly invigorated interest, as well as appreciation.

You do have a secret, though it isn't one kept from him. Rather, one kept from all of the other people surrounding you, and maybe it's that knowing that ignites a certain fire in Minho's gut that isn't quite normally there.

Minho has a plan, you just don't know what that plan is. This, you've come to find, is something of a reinvigoration of your sexual exploration and libido. Sex before was good, it was fine, it served its purpose and then it ended and you put on the television. Sex now — sex with Minho, as it were — the knowing, the not knowing, and everything in between has done far more for you than you would have ever been able to anticipate. Sure, you knew it would be fun to embark on this journey with him, it was never only for him and his enjoyment, but you couldn't have fathomed the way that it's changed how you view sex, physicality, trust, intimacy...and maybe even love, in some way.

You question whether or not you would be able to do this with a man that you don't hold love for in some capacity. Platonic love being just as worthy and valid as any other form of it, why shouldn't it, in some way, come into the decision making process. Is trust enough in and of itself to agree to such a fantastic expedition? Is love? Desire?

Suppose you'll just have to see where this road takes you, and hopefully you can find the answers along the way.

Tilting his glass back enough to empty the tiniest of remainder of drink into his mouth, Minho's eyes once again fall upon you and with desire already laden in his features.

"How is it?"

You know he's not asking about the wine.

Truth is, it's been hard. Sitting here, soaking wet, and pretending that everything is fine. Pretending that you haven't been sitting plugged in public unbeknownst to everyone surrounding.

"Fine," you lie, and you know it's obvious. "Enjoying yourself? You look smug."

"I am," he nods slowly, appearing smug, indeed. "I know I said I had no interest in hurting women but I certainly am kind of enjoying whatever form of torture this would fall under."

"The worst kind, if I had to imagine."

Minho sighs, as if hopelessly tormented himself. "I guess I'll have to get you out of here and have you tended to then, won't I?"

Gritting your teeth, biting back how much you'd love to tear into him both verbally and physically for putting you through such a thing (that you love), you force a smile with a sarcastic cock of your head to the side.

"Yes, suppose you will."

With that, Minho stands to his feet in complete and utter nonchalance — no urgency or effort in his motions at all — driving home the fact that he very much does enjoy watching you squirm under his thumb like this. He extends a hand toward you and you take it, bringing yourself up as well. One, strong hand pressing into your back and lightly dropping down the length of your spine to settle at the small of your back, you find even the lightest of offerings has you shivering with anticipation of what comes next.

Putty in his hands, just the way he wants it to be. Sadly, you wish you could feign your enjoyment just a tiny bit more, at least.

Two steps away from the table and the realization dawns on you: the bill hasn't been paid.

"We didn't pay—"

Dipping his head closer, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear, Minho's voice drops low and heavy as he offers assurance.

"Don't worry, it's charged to the room."

The room.

Minho's hand never leaves the small of your back as the two of you continue forward and towards the elevator that is meant to take you precisely there. You don't ask, and he most certainly does not tell.

If there's one thing that is for certain, however, it's the quickness in which eager want courses through your veins at the very concept of not knowing, and one step beyond that: if Minho is outsourcing ample space for such games, then the event in question quite surely in need of it.

In situations such as this, you find that time drags unrelentingly.

The elevator ride up to the fourteenth floor feels never-ending, and paired with the grin that Minho can't seem to fight off from his lips, you can only guess what awaits you up there. There's no concern in your disposition, however — such an enlightening understanding deep within yourself that you have come to complete and total peace with at the expert hands of the man that stands across from you within this perfectly shined metal encasing. In mind, you can't help but think that logically there should be some part of you that stands wary about what may await you behind whichever door it is that you find yourself facing, though emotionally, you can't seem to muster such a feeling.

When your arrival sounds off and the doors slowly pull apart, Minho is the first to exit and with you following closely behind. The corridor feels impossibly long and as though there is no end in sight — unfathomably big in a way that feels all-encompassing and forces you to go back and reexamine the stature of the building upon your initial visual intaking of it, but eventually you have no choice but to settle the score with your nerves alone and fully accept what fate — and Minho — has in store for you tonight.

The walk isn't long, and for that you are thankful. The shoes on your feet have begun to betray their remarkable appearance and instead insist on causing you discomfort. Minho must be able to tell, and makes more effort in carrying your weight on him as the two of you continue towards a door that rests only three more down and on the right.

1403.

Rather than a key, the doors within this expensive establishment are all marked with pin pads, and glancing over to the man who waits beside you with casual hands in pockets and that still-smug sneer, he offers you little more than a coy shrug.

"1224," he says with little indication of feeling in tone. "Go ahead."

Excited tremble to your hand, you attempt to steady it, if for no reason other than not wanting to appear as anything more than all-in for whatever it is that awaits you. Your mind runs rampant with possibilities on account of not knowing much about this building or what sort of businesses lie inside: the possibility of some sort of BDSM dungeon doesn't seem entirely out of the realm of consideration, though Minho has rather expressly insisted that that's not entirely his thing. You try to think more out of the box, something that might not feel so ordinary as far as kink goes to the average person and you consider for a moment the idea of a whole system set up of cameras and lighting — filmed or streamed. Maybe, but for a man who has more than made his inclination of sharing and watching be known, such a hands-off approach seems far from what might hit his particular spot.

The lock clicks open, and you slowly push the door inwards.

Awaiting you is a large, lavish room with attention to decorative integrity in relation to the rest of the place very much intact. Lining the walls with plenty of black and red ornaments, paintings, everything in some sort of hedonistic theme that screams pleasure seekers welcome without being so loudly uncouth about it.

Classy and sinister, much like Lee Minho himself.

You kick your shoes off quickly, thankful that you're finally able to, and it's only as you finally step inside just a bit that the scent of vanilla and wood lights up your senses. It's pleasant, comforting, but not in a way that might lull one to sleep and rather, it is in such a way that your wits become just that much more about you, and you search for whatever it is that awaits you.

Because you know it is something.

From that moment, however, it doesn't take long; longer than it probably should have, and you suspect that you'd be dead now should the situation take a far more sinister turn, but when the now obvious hint of a tall, dark silhouette finally catches in your vision straight ahead and standing juxtaposed from the illumination offered from outside of the large walling of window, the breath in your chest hitches and you take immediate pause where you stand in the wide opening of the room.

Simultaneously, your blood runs hot and cold. A perfect mixture of unsuspecting arousal, and all perfectly manufactured by the strategist at play.

With your eyes glued to the figure, he finally turns to face you with a martini glass in hand. Hair long to nearly his shoulders and perfectly slicked back not unlike Minho's, this man adorns a much more casual, albeit still classy and most certainly expensive set of all black everything. If you had to guess, he's probably a bit younger than Minho just in the way that he dresses and carries himself, though not by much.

It dawns on you embarrassingly slowly, and only then do you turn back to meet eyes with Minho — perched up and leaning against the open doorway with arms crossed over his chest and that ever present, shit-eating smirk.

"You finally made it."

The other man speaking pulls your attention towards him with a rapid jerk of your head. You don't really know what to say, but you suspect you don't really need to say all that much just yet, anyway.

He takes a sip from his glass, and slowly steps towards you with long, smooth strides across the carpet. Once the distance is closed, you become quite aware of how tall and slender he is, as well as how attractive he is, too.

He glances up and past you briefly, then his eyes settle back down upon you. Something of a silent check-in, if you had to guess. Perhaps you're starting to get the hang of all of this, after all.

"Did you have a nice time downstairs?"

"Y—Yeah," you reply, though it sounds far shakier and more timid than you'd like it to. Coming off as unsure or weary is not how you wish to. Nervous? Maybe. Reluctant? Absolutely not. You gather yourself, clear your throat, and add more to your response to prove as much with a steadier voice. "Of course, it's lovely. Food is delicious. Minho doesn't take me out like this much, bit of a drag, isn't he?"

To that, the man chuckles under his breath — glancing towards Minho once more before continuing to engage with you.

"So it would seem, has something so nice and doesn't even take care of it well? Shame on him."

"I'm sure you'll do better."

The voice comes from Minho still lazily slumped in the doorway, and dripping with sarcasm, too.

"Hwang Hyunjin, by the way," he finally introduces himself, stepping away only enough to set his glass down on the marble bar nearby. "Since he's so rude."

The pieces have fallen together so perfectly in your mind now: the friend that Minho had been alluding to all of those times prior, his kink friend with the model good-looks that also works in his building — this is that Hyunjin.

"It's not necessarily about doing better," Hyunjin says then, louder — intended for Minho in particular rather than you — an arrogance laced in his tone that sends a shiver through you in a way that you're not proud of.

Then, his eyes fall back towards you, and a gentle curl of knowing takes to his lips.

"But if you're going to let me play with your things, then suppose it's only natural, isn't it? The primal competitive instinct of men or what have you."

With his gaze still locked on you, Hyunjin slowly lowers himself to his knees, and whilst looking up from his new position he carefully shimmies his black jacket off from his shoulders to be discarded entirely. Large, soft hands find themselves gently planted to the outer side of each of your thighs, only to steadily make their way higher and curling around your behind.

You feel one of his fingertips graze the toy still deeply nestled inside of you — you had forgotten about it now given everything else going on — but the humiliation of such a naughty act is quick to make a home for itself inside of your stomach. For no reason of your own you're quick to find, however, as the discovery of such a thing only seems to darken the eyes that look up at you with such lustful intent.

"Can I kiss you?"

There's a part of you that's thankful that he opts out of commenting on the plug, and maybe he can tell how bashful its being there makes you — instead choosing to change the subject entirely. Unfortunately, you're not entirely sure how he's meant to kiss you from this position, either.

You're quick to learn that the question is rather rhetorical, however, and the firm grip into your ass pulls you forward to bring you roughly against his face with pubic mound snugly pushed against awaiting, plush lips.

His hands cradle the hem of the already short dress just out of place enough for him to get at what he wants, and with a finger or two slipping further between your legs to tug away at the small amount of fabric that remains between his mouth and your clit, you're given very little time to steady yourself in his hands before the warm, wet of his tongue perfectly nestles in that very same spot. The feeling of him — paired with his eagerness — sends you reeling, nearly stumbling on your feet but earnestly held in place by the very man below.

"Oh my God—" is all you manage to slip out through your own lips, and followed by a gasp you reach forward to take purchase in the head of hair that eagerly looks up at you in awe.

Surrounding you, the room is quiet. You know Minho is still there somewhere behind you; perched in wait, watching, probably enjoying the sight of what unravels before him. The thought of such a thing even in spite of not being able to witness it for yourself makes the act that currently plays out in front of you just that much more lewd, just that much more enticing to engage in, and the arousal that pools around Hyunjin's busy tongue is certainly evidence of that much.

Steady, wet sounds of the man between your legs fast at work, you feel the hand still firmly gripped into your behind dip fingers against the plug — pressing it deeper against your insides. Your head falls backwards, eyes screwing shut at the feeling of a much too quickly building orgasm threatening you, and with fingers inadvertently tightening into soft, dark strands, you desperately try to bite back the moans that have every intention of making themselves heard.

Part of you feels guilt for allowing yourself to be had by another man like this, and all for Minho to view. You're not entirely sure why that is — the two of you not engaging in anything more than casual sex and explorative kink play — but somewhere in the back of your mind you're able to recognize it for precisely what it is.

But it turns you on just that much more, too.

Hyunjin's grip on your hips gets harder, pulling you even more snug against his mouth so that he may have the perfect amount of suction onto your clit to have you barreling over the edge and without much more of a moment’s notice, it does precisely that: you attempt to swallow back the needy whine as you come, head dropping forward once more to watch him as he diligently works you through it — but even if you were able to remain in absolute silence, the steady grind of your hips down against his mouth speaks volumes enough about how much you crave to be had by him like this.

Chest heaving as your orgasm fades on the tail end, like a gentleman, Hyunjin holds you steady on your feet to make sure you're able to hold yourself in place before gently pulling his hands from you and bringing himself to his feet ahead of you once more.

He doesn't speak, nor does he bother to wipe the glistening remnants of you from his face. Instead, the glimmer decorates an all-telling smirk that pulls at only one corner of his lips, and though it is not necessary to be informed much beyond that of your fate tonight, the hands now working at the buttons of his trousers offer it anyway.

Your eyes fall down to where his hands now lie in work, but your attention is instead brought to the long, delectable imprint of his cock held in place by the fabric he now intends to remove for the main events of the evening.

"What can I do to her?" he asks with eyes still on you. The question, however, is quite obviously not intended for you.

"Anything you want."

More of that delicious, anxious excitement that you've come to find feels something of an addiction with each and every hit of it you've come to acquire.

Hyunjin huffs out a laugh at the response, eyes darkening just that much more the intensity of boundless lust.

In one corner of the room and nearest to the two of you rests a large, black chair — only now coming to your attention on account of the man slowly walking back and towards it with a silent beckoning for you to follow. Doing as told, you watch as he seats himself down with a lazy plop and while his gaze never for a second leaves your own, he finally takes to removing the confines wrapped around his legs altogether to show you precisely what it is that you'll be partaking in this evening.

Long but not especially girthy and carrying with it only the slightest of curves, Hyunjin wraps a hand languidly around himself, offering a few pumps as you watch him. Like this, the man looks something of sex incarnate — stunningly beautiful in ways that are both and neither feminine and masculine as well as everything in between.

"Come here," he whispers suddenly, pulling you out of the trance that is merely watching him stroke his own cock. "Let me watch you work me."

The sound of Minho now having slipped into the kitchenette just on the other side of the room jars you from focus, and your head snaps to find him. His eyes, however, seem to have never left you, and as the two of you make eye contact the only thing that you can seem to locate within Minho's expression is unfathomable desire.

"Don't worry about him," Hyunjin says, and you turn to meet his eyes once more.

"You belong to me right now."

Something about the words stir something deeply sybaritic within you. A want, a need to please this man that you've only barely just met and even more than that — all for your partner in crime to watch. You can't ever fathom being in a situation such as this with anyone else, so many questions lying out in the open and wholly unanswered that only in circumstances such as this would you ever allow it to be the case. No mention of protection, safe words, or boundaries — a red flag for any kind of sexual escapades such as this.

Except for the key factor lying in trusting Minho to take care of everything long before ever arriving here tonight, at all.

Settling down to your knees, you don't bother to waste anymore of your time as you take him into hand and lick a long, enthusiastic strip from the base of his cock all the way to the tip. Shirt still remaining along his torso with the fabric pooled just above his stomach, the feeling of your tongue gliding against his length makes for his abs to flex and tighten, as well as the barely seen drop of his jaw for his mouth to ever so slightly hang open at the feeling of your lips fully wrapping around the head of his dick.

Tongue swirling along the tip, Hyunjin hisses at the feeling before bringing a hand up to the back of your head. There's no force, no intent to bury himself deeper inside — and you can only gather that it is on account of the information divulged from Minho to him in the discussions leading up to now.

Slowly bobbling along him, you revel in the way he writhes beneath you — breaths hitching in his throat with every lap of your tongue tracing the underside of his cock.

Minho is out of sight, but you can hear the tell-tale signs of him pouring himself a glass of wine to enjoy the scene with.

"There you go, doing so well," Hyunjin says, breathy and full of want as he watches you take him. "She's good, pretty little mouth just perfect for sucking cock."

"I told you," Minho replies, tone of voice nonchalant as ever — as if nothing of importance is taking place before him. "She likes it."

The thought of the two men discussing you and all of the ways that you work sexually lights a different kind of fire in your gut — normally something that would have you ending a friendship over, but now? Now you're intrigued, even enticed. You like it, want to hear more about what they said, hopes that Minho only has the utmost positive view of you even just in the realm of fun sexual journeys together.

Seeking his approval in some way or another. Not something you would have ever expected to find yourself doing, at least not like this. Does Minho think you're good in bed? Good enough to tell his friends that they should fuck you, too? Good enough to want to keep doing it in the future? Maybe even good enough to consider something more permanent.

A thought that really isn't suited for the here and now, thankfully although Hyunjin cannot read your mind, he surely has something else planned, because he delicately pulls you off of his cock and guides your mouth up towards his own with a kind thumb and forefinger pressed into your chin.

He tastes like the slightest hint of whatever it was that he had been drinking before your arrival, but more so of mint. Lips full and plush in ways that Minho's aren't, you can't help but melt into the feeling of his mouth against your own, tongue ever so slightly dipping out to graze your bottom lip before teeth match the motion following.

Hyunjin doesn't verbalize his direction, but he doesn't need to with it being obvious enough: one hand clasped at your arm, he pulls you toward him with a beckoning for you to settle into his lap, but before you are able to bring one leg up to begin the journey, he makes one, final request of you.

"Take your panties off."

Simple enough, you drop them to the floor and continue on. Settled atop his thighs, Hyunjin's strong hands glide up your back and catch all of the fabric from your dress along with them to pull up and over your head, discarded on the floor just beside. His own shirt follows suit, and with the both of you now fully naked together like this, you're even more starkly reminded of Minho's presence — very much still fully dressed and watching on from the bar as not long before. You try to ignore him, because this isn't about him and you know that he wouldn't want you to be distracted by his being there, anyway.

At least, not yet.

Hyunjin meets your lips together again, this time with hands reaching around your behind to play with the plug still nestled inside of you. Part of you has nearly forgotten about it before now, though the ever present fullness offering an unrelenting desire to be fucked that cannot simply be sated by a single round of cunnilingus.

Creating space between your mouths, desperate and wanting you pant against his mouth as he pushes the toy deeper inside of you.

Free hand coming up to cradle the side of your face and with thumb gently skimming the flesh of your cheek, Hyunjin smiles softly against your lips before his own part to offer you the faintest of whispers.

"I'm going to fuck you in the ass."

The words send a shiver down your spine — both want and something slightly akin to fright — Hyunjin lightly tugs at the toy, and is pleased to find it come free with ease. Tossing it to the floor, he urges you forward along his lap, and with a lift of your hips he continues the thought.

"Why don't you get me all wet and ready for you."

Settled on your knees, Hyunjin brings a hand to the base of his cock to stand it tall and you're humiliatingly quick to bring yourself down atop him. Your pussy takes him with so much ease after one orgasm and how completely soaked you are — his length proves to take some getting used to before you're able to settle fully seated along him, but it only takes a few, shallow rocks against him before you're desperate to feel more, faster, harder than this.

The sound of slick along his cock ringing loudly through the room, you almost hate knowing that Minho can hear it — one part horrifically embarrassed, another part unbelievably turned on by the prospect of it.

"Yeah, there," he groans, hands seated at your waist to pull you down along his long length. "Just like that. Even your cunt feels heavenly."

Head spinning at the words, your hips bear down harder against him and hardly within the grasp of your own control. You want to fuck yourself on him, come around his dick, milk him for every last drop just like this—

And then he stops you.

"Not so fast," he chides, sweetness lacing his voice despite the knowing otherwise present in the words. "I have different plans for you."

Hyunjin lifts your hips, pulling you off of his cock and sliding himself down the chair just ever so slightly to allow for a better range of movement in the position. Like this, as he once more pulls you down to impale you along his shaft, the blunt, firm head of his cock prods far less forgivingly and with more intent behind the motion — there's more muscle to work through, more resistance even in spite of the plug having been worn all night — and while you carefully bring your behind down and begin being pried apart to take him, a shiver sends up the length of your body at the feeling of being filled once again but in such a filthy, taboo way.

Sinking down the length of him, Hyunjin sweet talks you the entire way — a journey that feels as though it takes ages with how slowly he brings you along him — you're thankful for his intent to take care of you, and are reminded just that much more of the safe hands in which you truly reside.

When fully perched inside of his lap once again, the two of you remain there without motion for however long that it takes you to come to your bearings. Hyunjin brings himself up and forward to kiss you again, and it's all of the insistence you need to know that you're ready.

Motions shallow and slow at first, you rise and fall along his cock to get used to the feeling — only you're quick to realize that it boils a new, special kind of sinister arousal within you that has you wondering why you haven't been doing this nearly as much in the past.

It feels fucking electric once the discomfort of newness falls to the wayside, and Hyunjin must be able to tell through the trembling of your thighs that you need more, because he quickly returns to his role and drives his hips upward with a gentle firmness to test the waters of what it is that you do and do not want or need from him.

The moan that escapes you is something of a needing whimper, and that's really all that he needs to hear.

With hands gripped into your hips, Hyunjin fucks up into you with long, deep strokes that ignite every nerve ending inside of you. Careful, delicate offerings now quickly devolving into the quick, lewd sound of skin hitting skin as he does precisely what it is that he told you he would, and with every drive of his cock into your ass, you feel yourself plummeting just that much further down the scope of complete and utter stupefying want.

You try to tell him how good it feels; to fuck you harder, faster, moan his name — but by now your words have diluted down into nothing more than panting, whining babbles.

Leaning forward again, Hyunjin takes one of your mounds into hand with warm, messy tongue lapping at the sensitive nub. As you bounce on his cock, the movements are uncoordinated and born of nothing more than carnal lust — so much so that it takes the extra set of hands on your body to make you aware of the fact that Minho has entered the scene before him, at all.

The three of you don't speak, rather, Hyunjin and Minho work together to spin you around on the man's lap so that you face outwardly and have your back to him, instead. Hard, long cock still firmly buried inside of your ass, Hyunjin holds you down atop him as Minho kneels down between the both of your legs and giving you little time between the beginning of his entrance and now, presses palms to the insides of your thighs to keep them spread apart and licks a long, wide stripe up the soaking, glistening slit of your pussy.

Loudly whimpering into the touch, Minho's eyes cast upwards to your own and with that all too smug grin that you know so well by now, he repeats the action — this time only to clasp his lips around your clit and carefully push two fingers into your empty, waiting cunt.

Simultaneously, Hyunjin digs himself deeper into you, grinding you hard into his lap. You can't help but wonder if this is how you die.

Pulling off of your pussy shortly thereafter, Minho replaces the sensation with the thumb from his other hand as the one busy fucking into you continues to do just that. "God, look at you. So fucking wet, why didn't you ever tell me you liked being fucked in the ass this much? I would have been happy to oblige."

You moan out loudly, eyebrows tightly pressed together and throat dry on account of already having been so thoroughly fucked. Worse than that, you know you're far from the end of the evening's plans, too.

And even worse than that, now Minho is going to talk.

"All those times you came over late at night and we fooled around, stupid me, could have had you bent over my bed with your face in a pillow and my cock buried in your tight little asshole. Bet that's what you wanted, too. Just praying tonight would be the night that I finally treat you the way you want to be treated, huh?"

It's too much. You don't even think that what he's saying is halfway true — maybe now, but not necessarily back then — it doesn't matter, though. There's a good chance that Minho doesn't even believe it himself and it's all just a part of the game to get everyone involved in the festivities to come as hard as physically possible. Mediocre orgasms are left downstairs with the other, simple blokes who don't eat pussy and definitely won't call their friends to come fuck you in the ass for everyone’s enjoyment.

You whine his name, at least something similar to it you think. It's difficult to tell what the sounds are that spill from your lips by this point.

The thumb on your clit circles faster, and you can feel Hyunjin beneath you attempting to fuck up into you despite most of your weight having settled into his lap. Still, you can feel the movement as little as it is as if it's everything, and when Minho curls his fingers inside of you just right with the perfect, rhythmic stroke — the best you can offer is a hope and a prayer that the walls of this place have been properly sound-proofed if the intended demographic of patrons are precisely the pleasure-seekers that the three of you have collected tonight.

Both of the men lovingly talk you through the high — a litany of praise and affection showered over you as you shriek and shake through what has to be the best and longest orgasm of your life. Somehow topping the one also previously bestowed upon you by Minho, you're starting to see a trend in sexual endeavors with the man...and you're also certainly starting to like it.

"Look how hard you came," Minho coos, quickly bringing himself to his feet and beginning the act of disrobing as you attempt to gather yourself once more from the afterglow of an orgasm this evening. "You know, we're not done with you yet."

Shirt dropping to the ground and hands going to work at his pants, you're distracted by the motion of Hyunjin beneath you — urging you to pull yourself from his cock and stand — much to your dismay. Despite your worn, gelatin legs you manage as much for a short while, though not needed for long as the two men switch places for Minho to sit and you are once more quickly shuffled into the lap of a man seated there before you.

You don't even think twice about it, nor do you hesitate — lips crashing hard and fast into Minho's and met with just as much vigor as you do. His hand comes up to feather across the flesh of your face, and pulling away ever so slightly, his eyes find yours with such incredible admiration of you.

Minho offers no words immediately, instead positioning the tip of his cock between your needy, wet slit and hastily pulling your warm cunt down along his cock.

"God, you feel so good around me, body made to take my cock," he whispers against you. It's only then that you feel the familiar prod of Hyunjin from behind, slowly and carefully urging himself back inside of your ass to be seated alongside Minho in your body. "Pretty thing, going to take both of our cocks — going to use your body how we want. You like that, don't you?"

Quick nods of affirmation are all you can manage as you steady your breathing through the feeling of being filled once again, as well as simultaneously. It's new, nothing you've ever felt before, and part of you wonders if you're sitting at the precipice of being torn in two entirely with the intensity that the act has to offer you.

"Going to mess your tight little cunt and he's going to fill up your tight little asshole with his cum," Minho says in something barely above a whisper, slowly rocking up into you from below as Hyunjin steadies his albeit awkward positioning from behind. "You're perfect for it, body craves it, we're just giving you what you need."

You don't know how long you can do this for, but with the relentless assault Hyunjin has already had on you, you can't imagine his orgasm to be too far off if he were to attempt to chase it. Minho, you're hopeful, is something of the same on account of the plethora of sights and sounds that have more than likely had their way with his senses through the progression of the evening thus far. His movements against you as he buries himself inside of you are sloppy and uncoordinated — though it could be something to do with having to move around the other man just as deeply pressed into your body. It's as far as your thought processes are able to carry you before the heated rush of another orgasm intends to wash over your body already — the thick, full rub of Minho paired with the long, fluid drive of Hyunjin once again firing off every nerve ending in your body, only now, at record speed. The man beneath you must feel the way your body reacts to the sensation — that smug grin finding itself once again seated at the corners of his lips as he fucks you.

"That's right baby, why don't you work for it? Show us just how much you want to be filled up with our cum."

"Fuck, she's so tight, must really want it, don't you?" Hyunjin adds, and it only serves to bring you that much closer to hear them speak about you in such a filthy manner like this.

"Yeah, she does," Minho answers, snaking a hand up the front of your torso and thumbing over one of your breasts before settling with fingers wrapped snugly around your neck. "She's my little toy, use her as I wish — fuck her, come in her, defile her however I want to, and now she's going to show us just how much she wants our cum by milking it from us just like she was made to do."

Another loud, strangled shriek into the open air of the hotel room, you come even harder than before — somehow — at the insistence of Minho's words. His drive up into you remains as steady as possible as Hyunjin instead folds you over to grip the back of the chair and fucks into you relentlessly. Hard, fast, deep drives of his cock into your ass, though it's only six or seven perfectly purposeful once before he hisses a cuss and stills with the entirety of his length firmly nestled inside of you as he empties his load in waves. His finishing only grants you a few moments of reprieve, however, before he pulls you back and into your proper seated position again so that Minho can have his way with your waiting, dripping cunt. Though spent, Hyunjin remains inside of you to plug you full as the man beneath you finally delivers the pointed drives he has been waiting to all night, and though it's just as few as Hyunjin, when Minho comes, the painting of your walls with his cum is much more felt — every throb of his cock felt with every rope of possessiveness dumped into you.

As the afterglow of orgasms washes over the three of you and the fervent, animalistic desire falls away, Hyunjin finally and carefully slips out from you first, quick to carry across the room and into the bathroom for warm, damp towels and a small glass of water.

When your wits come to you ever so slightly, your eyes meet Minho's equally fucked out and half-lidded ones. The two of you smile and he pulls you forward to lean against his chest with strong, fond arms wrapped around to hold you there.

"Do you need anything?" Hyunjin asks, already a step or two ahead of both Minho and you as far as recovery goes. You recall Minho mentioning that the kink scene is sort of his thing, so suppose he's something of a seasoned veteran at these sorts of escapades. "Should I run a bath? I can make something to eat real quick before I go."

You snort out a laugh at his insistence in being kind and thoughtful — always something of an amusing sight to see the kink facade fall away in favor of whatever it is that the person is like when not playing pretend for the evening.

"I think we're okay. You good?" Minho asks, you nod. Still not up for verbal communication just yet.

For the first time since the position switch, Hyunjin steps back into your line of sight with pants already back on and the intent to grab his shirt from the floor next to the chair. The two of you meet eyes, and much to your surprise, he appears somewhat shy to look at you like this now. It's cute, just another reminder of all of the different facets and versions of people that exist simultaneously within them.

"Hyunjin," you say before he fully steps away, though he is halfway into pulling his shirt on. He's quick to finish the act before kneeling down next to the chair to grant you his full attention, and when he does, you lean over to kiss him lightly on the mouth, enjoying the wash of blush that all too evidently catches on his ears. "You were amazing, thank you."

"Oh, I mean—" he begins in response, quickly jumping to his feet and shrugging his jacket on immediately after. There's such a nervous energy to him that you find so endearing — as if he can't perfectly align the two versions of himself, either.

You understand that well.

"It's nothing, really. It's not a big deal. The pleasure is mine, honestly. Thanks for letting me...ya know."

Minho laughs at that, head pressed back against the cushion and looking as though he resides somewhere between consciousness and dreamland.

"I'm gonna go," Hyunjin then adds, thumbing back over his shoulder towards the door. "Thanks again, seriously. I'm glad you had a good time, that's really all that matters to me."

"You were amazing, really."

"Ah geez, I'm getting out of here," he chuckles then, making a quick stride toward the door, but not before taking pause to finish the drink previously left at the beginning of the night.

With the click of the door signaling what feels like the ending of a wild excursion, your attention is once more brought to the man that you remain settled atop of. Minho appears pleased; sated and thoroughly contented by the evening's offerings with arms still tightly wrapped around your body and lips that wander the expanse of skin along your throat and jaw towards what one would assume to be a particular goal in mind. Turning your head slightly to face him, your lips ghost his own though not in any fashion of a kiss, and you give pause to the idea of it for all of the reasons previously that the two of you never engage in such affairs after the fact.

The 'scene' has ended, the event has unfolded, and most importantly above all else: friends don't share intimacy like that.

His eyes part lazily to look into your own, a hand slowly easing up past your shoulder and to the back of your head. There's some part of you that insists on pulling away, creating more space between the two of you. It's not something that you've bothered to give much thought outside of the exact circumstances in which the feelings that bubble up in your chest breed. Two people can engage in sexual intimacy whilst completely forgoing the need for romantic feelings, you know this well. You've engaged in it enough prior to now to understand it.

But can you? Like this? With him?

Carefully pulling you down to close the already arbitrary amount of distance that remains between the both of you, Minho kisses you once more — only this time it's different. You can't exactly place your finger on it; the way his lips adoringly slot against your own as if they've always been meant to do so, inhaling you so deeply as if the last breath on earth resides in your lungs alone. You meet him with the very same intent behind it, though you can't be entirely certain where truth or projection begin and end.

The embrace feels so far from sexual now even in spite of his still being nestled inside of you, rather, it feels something more akin to the absolute joining of two people in every sense of the word. Minho has always been your soulmate in ways that have consistently felt tangible with understanding.

Until now.

Pulling apart, his eyes remain on yours and despite your best efforts, only one word comes to mind. You swallow it down just as quickly, like a jagged little pill that has every intention of forcing its way back up should the next moment of sharing arise.

Anticipating this, you can only hope yourself to be better readied for it so that the burying it down not burn as much as this time does.

"I think we—"

The words come out in a whisper, only intended to be heard by you as if not already left alone in the aftermath of such debauchery. Your chest feels as though it's beginning the sequence of caving in on itself as you wait for the words, though logically you know better than to expect them.

It would be so much easier if they were to come, though.

"Should get cleaned up." Minho chuckles, wincing slightly as he attempts to pull himself back up into a more proper, seated position. "Look at you, you're a mess. Look like you just got fucked by two guys at the same time."

You laugh, it helps you ignore the other feelings that have no place here.

"Wait until I tell you about my night," you joke as you begin your descent from his lap. "Getting home is going to be such a nightmare."

"And we'll worry about that tomorrow," he says plainly, sternly. "We'll sleep here, bed is unsullied, after all."

There's a pause between you, though you're not sure why. The two of you have frequently shared beds and nights together even in the aftermath of sex and it's never meant anything, so why should it now?

For you, there is awareness. For him? You can't quite be so sure.

"I mean, if you want, obviously." He amends, perhaps in the sensing of your trepidation. You're quick to shake your head.

"No, of course. I'd rather not have to sit in your car for the next forty-five minutes in the state my lower half is currently in, anyway."

Minho smiles wide, slanted grin that you've always adored on him shining widely at the words.

"Good," he says, and the word sounds genuine in a way that you have a difficult time grasping in the moment.

"Then let's get you fixed up, though—"

Having turned to head towards the bathroom already, you still at the pause, awaiting the rest of whatever is meant to follow.

"You're perfect as you are."

[henrysglock]

Well, Well...Look Whose Limbs Are Still Intact (AKA the 4th NINA installment)

After seeing The First Shadow, I'm revisiting NINA installment #3!

Previously, I had speculated that El may have committed the 4.07 massacre after all, because there are multiple shots where the bodies don't have the Vecna eyes/snapped limbs.

For example, the difference:

And she may still have, I won't rule that out entirely. However...After seeing TFS, I have questions.

In TFS, when "Henry" doesn't attack in classic Vecna-style (which we actually witness firsthand just as often as we witness traditional Vecna killings), he attacks similarly to the way El does:

(it's not exactly the same, but the end results are very similar)

It's not Vecna style. Point blank.

When Vecna kills, the limbs always go first, and the eyes go last. We see that in Prancer, we see it in Virginia, and we see it in 1986. Limbs, then jaw, then eyes.

As far as we know, "Henry" on his own doesn't snap limbs at all, let alone jaws. The victims (see: Mr. Newby and Inmate 58361) are usually awake, aware, and screaming in agony, and no bones are broken. The eyes are the only thing to go, and they go fairly quickly.

Not Vecna-style.

So now, of course, I have to look back at her:

I know we've all seen this scene (and these pictures) so, so many times. Most likely from me, and most likely in another part of this analysis series. However, I want to run through this one part specifically shot by shot because it's EXTREMELY funny to me.

We've got Jumpsuit-A Guy (I'll just call him JA for short) attacking El:

So you'd assume he's both the One making El's eyes bleed that way and the One making her limbs twist/snap, right? Because he's doing what Vecna does?

(He isn't, but they want you to think he's doing what Vecna does. They're very good at hiding things about jumpsuit guys.)

But check this out.

We never see teen El with: a) twisting/snapping limbs b) the squeezing eye blood pattern c) JA Guy on screen at the same time. We see everything in tight shots. (Of course, always managing to keep that mirror in view behind One without showing us El. That's a secret tool that'll help us later.)

I've put the shot progressions in order from L -> R, top -> bottom, like lines in a book:

(Blackout to the new Terry/birth memory)

So, from this scene alone, we actually have very little evidence that JA did both things.

And you might go "Oh James, but look at the subtitles earlier!"

I have to ask: Are the breaking bones in the room with us right now?

Because all I see is El flailing, which is consistent with the next subtitle:

But...subtitling aside. I have better evidence that he didn't do both things. The Duffers thought they could pull a fast one on me, but the jokes on them—I'm an autistic freak who liked the I-Spy books way too much as a kid.

Can anyone explain this away?

And yes, the guy in the final screenshot is a bloody jumpsuit guy, even if I can't tell you with 100% certainty which jumpsuit he is. He's just moving really fast:

Anyway. That aside, have a look at the blood pattern on El.

The top gowns have blood on the left hip (twisting limbs El), the bottom gowns have blood on the right hip (squeeze eye blood El).

And I thought okay, well, let's run through some explanations:

Maybe somehow we're seeing that lower splotch by her left knee? First off, the stain's too big. Second, it's not the right shape. Third, it's hand-level. Definitely not the knee splotch.

Maybe, by some impossible 3D modeling limb fuck-up that swapped her hands, we're seeing her from behind? Well, let's see...

Nope! As far as we know, El doesn't have blood on her back, impossible limbs aside.

It seems, almost, like they shot her right side and mirrored it.

See?

So that's straight up not the same girl. Squeezed bloody eyes El and twisting limbs El are different girls.

That, my friends, means we have a brand-new version of teen El in the massacre.

That's consistent with what I talked about here, the scene at the beginning of NINA where teen El turns around twice:

Which is also the scene where we get two different doors in the Rainbow Room with teen El...And it all tracks with the doubled/mirrored rainbow room BTS.

So yes, we definitely have at least two versions of NINA running with teen El! One where her eyes bleed squeeze-style, and one where her bones break.

This means that whatever's going on in that scene with JA, he's not responsible for all of it, because the El in the "correct" gown has the eye blood, but the El in the "mirrored" gown has the twisting limbs. Two different girls, two different guys.

So, then, the next logical question to ask is: What is Jumpsuit-A Guy responsible for?

With the way JA's attack on El is filmed (the camera cuts and tight shots), it's nearly impossible to tell which things he's doing.

Disclaimer: None of the childrens' bodies are killed in a traditional Vecna manner. None of the jaws are broken. There's something else going on here, and I'm not entirely sure what it is, but I wouldn't be surprised if it was a mirrored version of TFS Henry's attack style (read: limbs first or limbs only rather than eyes only). So when I say "Vecna style", that's me referring to a limbs-first style.

Moving on...I daresay JA doesn't kill "like Vecna". Let me explain.

JA is the only guy we see actively killing in the Rainbow Room, and they're generous enough to swing/pan around to him in a continuous shot for it! No camera cuts there, no extra doubt introduced.

[TFS Brenner voice] They want to be caught so bad, I wonder why they even bother lying to me 🙄

Check it out:

Eyes go first. No twisting or broken limbs. That is JA's attack style. It's not even close to Vecna style.

If you're like me, you'll go:

"Oh, but James! Look at the body behind JA! The eyes are missing, and a couple of the other bodies look like their bones might be broken."

And you'd be right!

I'm not particularly concerned about that in relation to JA, though, since: a) We know a lot of the backdrop is divorced from the actual action (as I mentioned in here irt blood and impact crater separation), and multiple different corpse positions appear within the same jumpsuit, and there are multiple versions of corpses with non-twisted limbs:

(Top Left: JA with two different poses for the "same" corpse. Top Middle: Proving that the top-left photo is, indeed, of JA. Top Right: Two different versions of the "same" corpse with non-broken limbs. Bottom left: The corpse by the shelf goes from broken to unbroken based on relative position to the mirror. Bottom right: Much the same as Bottom Left, corpses go from broken to unbroken based on Brenner's presence.)

As far as I know...as of right now, we haven't found a solid, all-encompassing pattern in the surrounding bodies in relation to the all the jumpsuits.

b) We quite literally just witnessed the pattern of his kill style in the swing-around shot.

And, while I can't 100% confirm that either of these bodies belong to JA, since we don't have confirmation of JA with any non-twisted limb bodies...Once again, I have to ask:

Are the breaking bones in the room with us right now? Because I personally didn't see any twisted, snapped bones.

And here?

Well, well...

Yes, I'm aware those are both across camera cuts. And no, I can't 100% confirm which of the Ones killed those Twos. There may be multiple that don't kill Vecna-style!

It's entirely possible that most of them don't kill Vecna-style, and the Vecna makeup is just an overlay (maybe one that glitches or has missing uploads within NINA. Not a Duffers production error, but an HNL production error).

I will say that JA is the strongest candidate for being one of those non-Vecna-style guys, though.

"Maybe you just caught JA too early in the process for breaking bones?"

I mean, maybe, sure! I can acknowledge that possibility.

It's still not the limbs-first style, though. The order is all wrong, and it still doesn't match what we're shown in the attack on El, gown discrepancy aside. When JA's attacking El, we see the isolated limb-twisting bit before we see the eyes. Meanwhile his attack on Two starts with the eyes. Two's eyes bleed, and his limbs are still intact.

That means JA likely isn't responsible for the limb-twisting bits in the attack on El.

So, my point remains the same: There's at least one One who doesn't attack Vecna-style, and instead attacks like TFS "Henry"—Eyes bloody off the bat, bones not targeted. JA is the strongest candidate I've seen for being one of them. (Put a pin in this. I'm going to talk about it later.)

That supports the two distinct attack styles I was talking about here.

Two does have the cloudy, Vecna-ish eyes, though, and somebody's bones are snapping somewhere...So I genuinely wouldn't be shocked if this, like the gate/dematerialization shot (which I talked about in here), is a dual-outcome overlay of the two attack styles. (More on this in a bit! Hold onto this thought.)

Now, I want to go a layer deeper.

Keeping all that in mind, I want to talk about this bit the released 4.07 script:

Let me explain.

Baby El, per the script, is through the mirror, which tracks with this jumpsuit discrepancy:

JA and JC are both on teen El's side of the mirror. JE is a "through the mirror" jumpsuit, placing him with Baby El.

You know who else is actually "through the mirror", both in script and on film?

JD, who, like JE, we only see when we push through the mirror:

And he is, as predicted, associated with a baby El.

I originally thought they had cut that second "through the mirror" bit when they changed to have One break the mirror instead of just being pinned to it, and that we were just seeing baby El in teen El's place.

They didn't cut it, and we have no idea if what Baby El does is the same as whatever Teen El's doing on the other side of the mirror while we can't see her.

So, tl;dr: JE and JD are definitely different from JA and JC, not just based on jumpsuit, but also by location relative to the mirror and the associated ages of their Els.

JD and JE exist through the mirror (read: with baby El). JA and JC exist not through the mirror (read: with teen El).

Which...All of this becomes even funnier when you look at this guy, the only time we see baby El's face and a One who's still somewhat recognizable on screen together in this sequence:

And like...first off, it's straight up not the same guy. Second off, they're hiding his identity from us.

Just look.

And even at the most surface-level? Look at the hair. He's not the same guy.

Stunt double, 3D-model, either way. All of this could and arguably should be lined up properly, based on the VFX team's capabilities. Both guys are being dematerialized, but they're not the same guy. I just can't tell you with any certainty which guy he is.

However, this all means the guy we see together on screen with baby El here? He may very well be the guy watching her here:

The mirror matches, and it's totally different from JD, who gets this:

(He has the mirror going the opposite way.)

And because he's through the mirror with baby El, this mystery man could be JE, since he's not JD. Again, I just can't say for sure because all we see of JE is his chest and left side, but all we see of secret third guy is his right side, which is so far away that I don't feel comfortable making a claim re: his identity...and JE is deliberately shot mirrored so as not to reveal his right side.

They're deliberately hiding his identity re: jumpsuit pattern. If I could see his chest, or even parts of his arms, I could tell you for sure which One he is. But I can't...so. Here we are, missing variables.

Shaking the Duffers until they drop loot (J?'s jumpsuit pattern).

Anyway!

Remember when I said they were hiding baby Els from us? This is what I'm talking about. Two different guys, two different girls, and they're deliberately hiding both the face blood of one of the Els and the jumpsuit pattern of the One with her.

Now, remember that those few thoughts I asked you to put pins in? The ones about the mirror being kept in frame with JA, not being able to confirm which One killed that intact-limbs Two, and Two's possible dual-overlay/bones snapping somewhere?

Yeah. This is where all that comes in: The Speculation.

JA and JC are on teen El's side of the mirror. JD and JE...and secret third jumpsuit...are on baby El's side of the mirror.

We can confirm that JA takes the eyes first (read: he doesn't attack Two or El in the bone-breaking/Vecna style), and keeping that mirror in frame during the attack on El implies that someone on the other side of it (read: with baby El) should attack the same way. This supports the theory that we're missing a baby El with the squeezed bloody eye pattern, likely the same baby El that we see in BTS pictures.

Can I say with 100% certainty that JA doesn't break bones? No. However...For the moment, I can comfortably hypothesize (say, 65% certainty), that he's the not the one breaking bones on teen El's side of the mirror.

A logical hypothesis based on that is that Jumpsuit-C Guy (the later Brenner-faced One who's purported by the show to have become Vecna) is the one breaking bones/attacking Vecna-style on teen El's side of the mirror.

All these timelines, the different jumpsuits, seem to be happening simultaneously. It's not a massive stretch for me to hypothesize that this factor is what's contributing to the phantom bone-snapping sound and cloudy eyes we see on Two, despite Jumpsuit-A Guy not snapping his bones (much the same as the dual overlay with the gate and the dematerialization).

We're not shown any concrete evidence as to what kill style JE uses, nor do we have any hard conclusions in regard to his fate, but based on his location relative to the mirror, I'm comfortable hypothesizing that he might be this weird, mystery One with the Vecna-eyes baby El. They don't let us see which attack style JD uses or which baby El eye-blood pattern he's associated with. However, based on the conclusion that he's likely not the guy associated with Vecna-eyes baby El...for the moment, I feel comfortable hypothesizing that he does not attack in the bone-breaking/Vecna-style way, and instead attacks squeeze-style and is associated with the BTS-only Baby El.

This is further supported by the fact that a) JD and Hallway Guy seem to be the same person, and Hallway Guy quick-kills the same way El does:

It would stand to reason, then, that his slow kills would be similar to hers.

b) JD goes on to become Mindflayer Guy, not Vecna

(Left: JC, who's smash-cut to Vecna. Right: JD, who's shown shaping the MF)

So, to kind of sum all that up:

JA: Definitely on teen El's side of the mirror, associated with right-hip blood and squeezed bloody eyes teen El. He's probably one of the guys who has an attack style that doesn't break bones first/the squeeze-style attack. We don't know where he ends up, but he may be linked to the Mindflayer.

JC: Definitely on teen El's side of the mirror, possible associated with left-hip blood and twisting limbs Teen El. He may be one of the guys who breaks bones first. He supposedly becomes BrenVecna.

JD: Definitely on Baby El's side of the mirror, never seen on Teen El's side. Associated with mystery blood Baby El. No confirmed attack style, but based on the secretive behavior irt: Baby El's eye blood, he may be one of the guys with an attack style that doesn't break bones/the squeeze-style attack. He's Mindflayer guy.

JE: Baby El's side of the mirror, never seen on Teen El's side. No confirmed attack style or associations. May be associated with Vecna-eyes Baby El, given the secrecy around the mystery man's jumpsuit pattern, which means he may be a bone-breaking guy. We don't know where he ends up, but he may linked to Vecna.

If you made it this far you're automatically stronger than the US Marines. Gold star for all of you.

[writingseaslugs]

Heartslabyul: Holiday Special

These were supposed to be hella short and then I finished Riddle’s and they kept just getting longer and ya…I’m screwed. I have all the other dorms to do and I gotta make them just as long. Happy holidays guys, hope you enjoy these! None of these mention “Christmas” per say, but I do celebrate it and it has a lot of the traditions tossed in there.

Disclaimer: All characters in this series are aged up. For more information about my version of this world and the type of reader you can expect, please do a quick read of THIS post.

Heartslabyul: Decorating

In Heartslabyul, the Queen has a ruling that there always needs to be decorations throughout the castle, for the month of December. When this ruling was formed, nobody really knows. However, it was a rule, and therefore enforced throughout the entire dorm. So, on December 1st, it was the official time to begin decorating the dorm in festive wintery themes.

Riddle Rosehearts

“So…what are we doing…?” You asked, approaching Riddle as you looked at everything going on in the dorm. Riddle had personally invited you over today, bright and early. The last thing you expected to see, was everyone running around like a chicken with their head cut off. That wasn’t too uncommon for Heartlabyul, but the odd decorations surely were a change.

“We’re decorating for the winter, of course.” Riddle said as he looked at everything needing to be done. He had a giant check list that he was going over, looking up at a few students to make sure they were doing things correctly.

“Oh…and I’m here for?” You asked, wondering what your task would be. Riddle finally looked up, acknowledging you with a soft smile.

“I’ll be needing help going through to make sure everyone is doing what they’re supposed to. You don’t have to come along with me.” Riddle explained, “There’s several things you can do to keep yourself entertained.”

“I think I’d rather spend that time with you. So, we’re just going to be walking through the dorm and making sure everyone is on task?” You asked, putting your hands in your pockets.

“That’s exactly what we’ll be doing, now come along.” Riddle said, holding out his arm. You swore you felt your heart leap at the kind gesture. You wrapped your arm around his own and began walking alongside him through the dorm.

Everyone seemed to be pretty on task, for the most part, as decorations were placed, tablecloths changed out, and candles set out to make the entire dorm smell amazing. You two stopped by the entrance leading into the common room, chatting before you could hear someone snickering.

You turned, noticing Ace standing there with a giant smirk on his face, “Oh, and please do tell me what’s so funny.” You said sarcastically to your good friend.

“You do realize that you and the dorm leader are standing underneath the mistletoe, right?” Ace teased; that’s when you and Riddle both realized that he was right. Above you was a giant thing of mistletoe. You could see Riddle’s patience wearing thin as he snapped at Ace.

“Who placed this here? The Queen’s ruling explicitly states no mistletoe within 100 yards of the nearest kitchen.” Riddle said, going over to take it down. Ace squeaked in surprise, realizing he had fucked up and was already running. Riddle was about to use his signature spell on him when you stopped the tiny tyrant.

“You know…it might be against the rules for the placement, but isn’t there also a rule that you have to kiss if found underneath the mistletoe?” You asked Riddle, innocently enough. He paused, before wracking through his brain. He sighed, a slight blush being replaced on his face.

“It is in one of the Queen’s winter rulings, but it doesn’t state if it applies to illegally placed mistletoe, so we can only assume the rule stands despite the circumstances.” Riddle said, as you were already grabbing his chin. He was cute when he talked a lot, but you just wanted to kiss him right now. You placed your lips against his own, loving the minty fresh hint to his breath as he gasped at the sudden kiss.

When you parted, your lips brushed against his own while you spoke, “There, we wouldn’t want to break any rules, now would we?” You teased.

Despite the flustered expression, Riddle nodded, “We wouldn’t want that…”

Trey Clover

The decorating party was going well and strong by the time you arrived over at the Heartslabyul dorms. Everyone was rushing around, trying to get things done. You just looked around, wondering where everything was. That’s when you felt a hand on your lower back, starting to push you forward.

“Whoa, hold up!” You said in surprise before turning and noticing Cater’s smiling face, “Oh, it’s just you Cater…what’s up?” You asked, starting to walk alongside him instead of being dragged.

“Nothing much, but you’re here to see Trey, right?” Cater asked, with a knowing look. You choked on air for a moment as you tried finding some excuse to come to Heartslabyul that wasn’t just you wanting to visit your crush. You ended up just groaning and shooting him a small glare.

“You caught me.” You said, Cater letting out a loud laugh as you two walked into the warm dorm. The cool air outside was nice and all, but there was just something different about how warm and toasty the inside was, with one of the fireplaces being lit to engulf a part of the dorm in a warm glow.

“I know, now come on, he’s in the kitchen.” Cater said, dragging you along. Soon you were at the door to the kitchen; Cater gave you a pat on the back, before leaving you with a small wave. You huffed before opening the door to the kitchen. It wasn’t a surprise to smell sweet cranberry pie being cooked, alongside a few other things.

“That smells amazing, Trey.” You said, coming into the kitchen fully and closing the door behind you. You noticed Trey was wearing a more festive apron this time around, it had a few snowflakes on it with something written. At the angle he stood, you couldn’t make out what it said.

“Ah prefect, I was wondering when you’d stop by. I was about to make some hot chocolate for everyone.” Trey said, and sure enough in front of him was a giant pot of boiling milk.

“You know there's tons of students in your dorm, right? You’re making it for everyone?” You asked, coming over to look at the freshly cut chocolate chunks. He was going all in on making it perfect. You also noticed the peppermint leaves sitting alongside it as well.

“I’ll have to make a few batches before I have enough for everyone…but that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy a cup while we wait for the rest of the milk to boil.” Trey said, mixing some of the chocolate and peppermint into the batch. You hummed, deciding to just watch as he made the drinks, straining the leaves and any excess chocolate chunks out for a nice and creamy drink.

You watched him do some magic to keep the batch hot while he made the rest. You then watched him grab two mugs and a ladle, quickly pouring some of the drink into the mugs. He added whipped cream, a few marshmallows, chocolate shavings, and the final touch was a cinnamon stick to stir with.

“You’re doing this for everyone?” You said, looking at the aesthetically pleasing mug. Trey smiled, looking at you with a mischievous grin.

“No, this is special for you.” He explained, making your heart soar. You squeaked out a small ‘oh’ as he handed you the mug. You took a sip of the hot drink, loving the flavor combinations; it had been so long since you had authentic hot chocolate you had forgotten what it tasted like.

“This is amazing Trey…thank you.” You said, watching him casually sip on his hot chocolate while leaning on the counter. He lazily stirred the hot milk mixture occasionally to prevent it from burning, but he just looked so calm at that moment. Then you noticed the apron he wore, and how you could finally read the words. 

Kiss the Cook.

An idea sprung into your head as you walked over to Trey; the man looked at you curiously as you set your cup down. You then grabbed onto the back of his neck, quickly bringing him down for a quick kiss. Trey froze for a moment, registering what you were doing before smiling into the kiss and returning it. It was short and sweet, and too soon you were parting.

“What was that for?” Trey asked and you snickered.

“Well, your apron said it…” You joked and Trey looked down at his winter apron. He huffed in amusement before looking back at you.

“It does…I will admit I’m happy you’re the only one who took it seriously and nobody else.” Trey confessed. You laughed, grabbing your cup of hot chocolate, before leaning on the same counter at Trey, your hips almost touching. This was fine.

Cater Diamond

“I can’t believe I got stuck doing this…again.” Cater complained. It was no surprise that he was the one who had to paint the roses once more. He was good with the spell, and Riddle trusted him not to miss anything. It didn’t mean he enjoyed it at all. The only plus side is he got to paint just the bases in a baby blue and then put snowflakes all over the bush.

“Maybe if you stopped being good at it, Riddle wouldn’t ask you anymore?” You said, stringing up a few snowflakes, while he did the painting. It was the least you could do, since you swore you’d rather die than grab a paint brush and do this manually.

“I’d rather keep my magic, thank you.” Cater said, painting another bush completely before turning to you, “Plus side, this totally is an aesthetic look for a winter themed photo shoot.” He suggested. He was being truthful about it, the ground has a thin layer of snow that you were certain was put there with magic. The world around you was white and had that soft, wintery glow to it.

“You suggesting we have a small photoshoot today?” You asked, Cater chuckled with a nod.

“Of course…I’m almost done painting. Just one more bush and then you put the snowflakes on them. Then we can take some amazing magicam photos.” Cater said; the motivation helping you speed along the task at hand. Soon enough, he had finished painting and you had two more bushes to decorate.

“I’ll be right back, I’m going to grab something for the photos.” Cater said, his hand grazing the small of your back as he whispered it in your ear. You squeaked in surprise, not expecting him to suddenly be so close to you. You finally got your bearings together and shooed him off. Cater’s laughter rang through the rose maze as he left you. By the time you had finished putting the last few snowflakes on, you hear the snow crunching behind you.

You turned to see giant, fluffy white coats in his hands and a giant smile plastered on his face, “Figured it would be better to find the theme. They’re big enough that they should cover most of our uniform.” Cater said, tossing one to you. You hummed, putting the coat on. Sure enough the thing went down past your knees. It also helped keep you nice and warm; you didn’t realize how cold you were, until just now. Once it was secured you heard a flash going off and stared at Cater who took a candid photo of you.

“Can’t we at least pose for this?” You asked, with a soft smile. Cater chuckled, he grabbed your arm and dragged you to his chest. He then snapped another photo, catching your surprised expression as you fell into his arms.

“Candid photos are one of the in trends right now, you know.” Cater said, despite making faces and posing for a few selfies.

“Sure it is…” You said, watching him use magic to levitate his phone a little ways away from him,

“Now come over here so we can get more of the scenery in the photo.” He said, waving you over. You didn’t think twice as you walked over to him; you didn’t expect him to wrap a hand around your waist, another one on your chin as he laid a gentle kiss on your lips.

You were surprised at first before melting into the kiss, feeling his hot breathfanning over your face and the faint taste of cinnamon made you feel secure. When he pulled back, you could see his outstretched hand for the phone. You then realized, he took photos of you two kissing.

“Cater…you aren’t posting those…are you…?” You asked, knowing you two flirted but hadn’t actually committed to a relationship yet. Cater smirked, waving the phone in his hand, the photo on clear display.

“I thought it would be a nice little announcement post to make.” He admitted, making you suddenly feel all too warm.

“An announcement…Cater, are you asking me out?” You asked after a moment.

“Ah, you’ve finally figured it out.”

Ace Trappola

“This looks like a disgusting amount of work…” You said, looking at Ace; the poor boy was currently trying to shovel snow and he was doing a shit job at it. You could only see a small patch that wasn’t covered by snow in front of him. “You've been at this for how long?” You asked, noticing that if he didn’t scrape the area that the ice would make it was harder to walk on than just traversing through snow.

“I literally just started… Now grab a shovel.” Ace said, motioning to the other shovels. Apparently more than one person was supposed to be doing this, but currently only Ace was around.

“Hard pass; just looking at that makes my muscles hurt,” You quickly shot him down, smirking at his little glare; “Where’s everyone else? Shouldn’t you have more people helping you?” You asked, coming closer and crouching down to look at the ground. The snow wasn’t terribly deep, so it shouldn’t be too bad for him, but it would definitely take an hour or two of hard work.

“Everyone else was assigned different tasks…” Ace grumbled, but you just knew he was hiding something.

“Oh…is that really it?” You asked, urging him to continue. Ace rolled his eyes before kicking some snow over to you. You sputtered as it hit your face, before patting the snow off of your clothes.

“Riddle caught me tossing mistletoe wherever I wanted, this is punishment…” Ace said and you actually laughed. Of course Ace would do something like that; probably trying to catch unsuspecting students underneath one so he could be an asshole and tease them.

“Idiot.” You said, sticking your tongue out again. Ace shot another glare, before grabbing a large scoop of snow. You realized too late what he was doing as he approached you. You tried standing up quickly to move out of the day, but the ice beneath your feet had other plans as you slid back down. Ace laughed, before dumping a bunch of snow on you.

You let out an annoyed screech at the cold snow invading every crevice of your being. That was it…you grabbed a giant ball of snow, patting it together while Ace was so busy laughing at you. You managed to nail him right in the face, causing him to pause and stare off into space for a moment. You could see the cogs turning in his head before he realized this was a declaration of war.

Snowball after snowball was thrown, making the walkway to Heartslabyul way messier than it was before. The two of you laughed every time a snowball hit the other right in the face. You were freezing after half an hour from the snow that had gotten into your clothes. Your entire body shivering as you tried to continue hitting Ace, but your hands were slowly going numb.

Ace noticed you slowing down and came over, planning on dumping more snow on you before he realized you were shaking. He paused before letting out a long sigh, “If you were freezing you should’ve said something.” Ace said, looking at you. You squeaked, not knowing when he managed to sneak behind you.

“I was having fun…” You murmured, noticing Ace was now grabbing you by the arm and dragging you into the dorm. The moment the warm air of the dorm hit you, you sighed in relief. It stung slightly, but at least you wouldn’t be freezing.

“Stay here.” Ace said, taking off his boots and jacket and heading into the dorm. You wanted to say something, noticing how some of the snow on his clothes were coming off him as he walked through the halls. Still, you saw him coming back with some towels, tossing you one. You didn’t realize you were literally soaking from the snow.

Ace managed to lead you to the common room that was empty for the time being, everyone else being too busy. He sat you down and began patting you dry while you laughed. “Stop moving.” Ace grumbled, placing the towel over your face and wiping away snow. He revealed your face, giving you his killer smile.

“I can’t help it, it’s tickling.” You said, watching him move the towel to your hands and he dried them off too. He noticed how cold they were, setting the towel down, before grabbing both your hands and bringing them to his mouth. He huffed some warm on your frigid hands, making you suddenly feel way too warm in your spot. Ace noticed how quiet you got as he looked up at you.

“Ya know, I put up the mistletoe so I’d have an excuse…but fuck it.” Ace said, cupping your cheek and dragging you down to meet his lips. Everything about Ace radiated warmth and you melted into the kiss, leaning forward and enjoying how his lips worked against your own. That’s when you heard some coughing from behind you, stopping you. 

You looked over and froze at seeing Riddle, tapping his foot on the ground as he looked at you two, “Is there a reason the front of the dorm looks like a warzone?” Riddle began; you and Ace looked at one another, as you noticed you were fucked. You both just turned and gave Riddle a sheepish smile, making the dorm leader sigh in annoyance.

Deuce Spade

“Ace!” You called out, walking past the disaster zone known at the Heartslabyul entry way. It looked like a snowball fight had broken out as Ace was reluctantly shoveling snow; probably as a punishment for something he did. “Where’s Deuce?” You asked once you were close enough you did have to yell.

Ace groaned as he dug the shovel into the snow and used it to lean on, “How should I know? I’m not his babysitter.” Ace said, making you roll your eyes.

“Oh so funny, I must’ve forgotten to laugh.” You said, “You live here with him, I expected you might have an inkling of where he is.”

“He might be in the attic, I think he was decorating the tree and ran out of stuff. Riddle will probably know…but why look for him when you can be helping me?” Ace said, motioning to the other shovels.

“Thanks, but I’d rather decorate a tree.” You said, waving him off as you entered the dorm. You didn’t see Riddle anywhere, but Ace was right, the tree was half decorated and the box next to it was empty. You made your way up the dorm stairs, finding the attic with relative ease. You opened the old door and peered inside, noticing some shuffling in the back.

“Deuce?” You called out, noticing a black head of hair poking up from the random items scattered about the attic. You walked over and saw Deuce going through a few boxes filled with…well a bit of everything. “What’s all this?” You asked, crouching down to see it all. 

“Good question…I’m just trying to find the other box of decorations and came across all this.” Deuce said, picking up a random gear that was thrown into the box.

“Looks like something that belongs in Ignihyde’s basement…they’re spare parts?” You concluded and Deuce nodded.

“I’m not sure, but there’s a lot of stuff like this in here. I found another box filled with bolts and gears.” Deuce said, motioning over to another box that was neatly placed above the others.

“Huh…wonder why that’s here?” You asked, Deuce shrugged.

“From what I know, it’s the Queen’s rule that the attic can only be cleaned every seven years, so Riddle hasn’t been allowed to do it since he became dorm head. I think he was saying next year would be a deep clean, so the boxes up here haven’t been touched in like six years.” Deuce said, you were now intrigued.

“So people just put boxes of random shit up here and it stays for seven years?” You asked and Deuce nodded.

“It’s an event that lasts a week, apparently, they go through everything and organize it based on the contents, then decide if it should be kept or tossed. Not looking forward to that next year…” Deuce said, you couldn’t blame him. Spring cleaning always sucked, and going through a seven year old basement, seemed like a nightmare.

“I bet you could totally make something out of these though.” You said grabbing what looked to be a small wheel. Deuce perked up at that, taking the wheel from your hand and tossing it in his hand.

“That’s the plan, I could probably make a mini model of a Blastcycle out of these parts.” Deuce said with a giant smile.

“I bet you could! If you do, you’ll have to show me once it’s finished…wait is that…” You said, your attention being drawn to another box. The colors looked similar to the ones Heartlabyul was using to decorate the dorm. Deuce noticed it too as he looked over, perking up as he moved over and grabbed the box. Sure enough, the contents inside were all winter decorations.

“Finally found it; I’ve been looking for hours now.” Deuce said, grabbing the box and standing up, “Did you want to help me decorate the tree?” he offered.

“Hell yes!” You said, standing up and looking over Deuce. He looked so excited at the moment; both at finding what he was looking for, and the prospect of getting to make something. You couldn’t help it as you walked over to him, “Hey, Deuce, turn towards me for a second.”

Deuce didn’t question it, turning his head just in time for you to give him a quick peck on the lips. He gasped, almost dropping the box as he looked at you with wide eyes, “W-what was that for?” he managed to ask, red in the face, almost matching Ace’s hair.

“You looked really cute just now, I couldn’t help myself…now come on, let’s go decorate the tree!”

Are you a fan of Diasomnia like me? I bet you are if you read my content (we love the boys in this household). Want to support a visual novel that will feature the Diasomnia dorm, has multiple routes and endings, as well as some spicy visual scenes? Check out @twstfournights and if you want info, check out their announcement post!

[bi-bard]

Family Trip - Rafael Barba Imagine (Law & Order: S.V.U)

Title: Family Trip

Pairing: Rafael Barba X Reader

Word Count: 1,024 words

Warning(s): bad family, bullying, cussing

Summary: (Y/n) just got back from visiting family. However, instead of bringing back funny stories or leftovers from their parents, (Y/n) brings back baggage that no one could see. Baggage that (Y/n) didn't want to acknowledge.

Author's Note: The holidays are rough for a lot of people. If you need a better family for the holidays, then I am happy to be a part of your found family.

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It wasn't meant to be anything more than an off-handed comment.

I knew that.

That didn't stop my brain from going into fight or flight mode when Rafael made said off-handed comment.

In all honesty, I wasn't sure why Rafael was there. We didn't have anything for him to look at or talk about, but he was standing in the middle of our office.

I had started rambling. I had been reading this new book series. It was new and exciting, so I was talking about it. I knew that sometimes my rambling could be a little intense and hard to follow. I knew that. I should've known that.

"My only problem is that I can't seem to find the last book," I explained, probably talking a mile a minute. "It's pretty popular, but I didn't think that meant that I wasn't going to be able to get my hands on a single copy of the thing. I've checked most of the places around me, but there's one shop- it's between my place and this little coffee shop- that might still have a copy-"

"(Y/n), (Y/n)," Rafael smirked as he held his hand up to mimic telling me to slow down. "Take a breath."

My mouth reacted before my brain could stop it, "Jesus fucking Christ."

I shook my head and looked down for a moment.

"Hey, I was just-"

"You should try letting people enjoy things without being treated like shit," I snapped before he could explain himself.

"Excuse me," Rafael asked. The whole team seemed to freeze.

My jaw clenched. I didn't speak.

"Liv," he turned to her. She had stopped when I snapped at him. "Can we use your office?"

"Be my guest," she nodded.

Rafael looked at me again. I sighed, already regretting my choices as I pushed myself out of my seat and toward the office.

He didn't speak up until he had shut the door to the office, "What the hell?"

"I'm sorry," I ran my hands over my face.

"Do you want to tell me what's going on," he asked.

"I... I just got back from visiting my family," I said. I took a deep breath. I was already yelling at myself for how I had reacted and for talking about this whole thing. "They're... They're just a bit difficult. I get a bit... touchy when I visit them."

Rafael's eyebrows were still furrowed.

"They just make a lot of jokes," I tried to shrug it all off. "Quite a few of them are targeted at me. Whether they're just about shit that I've done or how I look or the things that I like or... whatever. I tend to get a bit defensive."

"I... I didn't mean to-"

"I know," I stopped him, forcing a grin. "I'm just overly sensitive. I know that. Can't learn to take a joke."

I felt the tears in my eyes. I tried to figure out how to subtly blink them away. It must've not worked because Rafael stepped forward, wrapping his arms around me as he tried to shush me before I started sobbing. I wrapped my arms around his torso and closed my eyes.

"I don't mean to be invasive, but this doesn't seem like innocent joking," he muttered to me. "If it's this upsetting... (Y/n), this isn't normal."

"I'm the one that's not normal," I stepped back, rolling my eyes. "I... I just can't get my brain to not take it personally. Either I get defensive and overreact or I shut down and that's still overreacting. I just never learned how to take a joke. It's always been that way."

"(Y/n), no."

I closed my eyes and shook my head.

"Hey-"

"I have a lot of work to get done," I said. "I'm gonna go clean my face up and get back to it. I'll see you later, Barba."

"Wait-"

"See you later," I repeated before walking out of Liv's office.

I ignored everyone's sad looks. I just continued working. Typing and writing. I answered a call or two. It was the rare occasion where S.V.U didn't feel like it was being left to drown and hopefully take down a few terrible people before we sank completely.

Sonny tried to talk to me a few times. Rollins too. Liv had called me into her office, but I pushed her away. Fin seemed to respect that I needed the space.

I had shut down. I figured it out as soon as I got home. Just like I always had. I had fucked it all up. I thought that I could keep myself together when I was away from my family. That those reactions could just fade away with time. But here I was. Still acting like such a child.

I spent the entire night caught in this cycle of punishing myself. Stuck in my thoughts and insecurities until I finally couldn't force myself to stay awake any longer.

I came back the next day to see something sitting on my desk. It was wrapped in some Christmas wrapping paper. It was just after Thanksgiving. It was probably what was in stock.

"It's from Barba."

I looked at Rollins as she spoke. She had caught me staring at the gift. I furrowed my eyebrows at her. At the idea that Barba felt the need to get me a gift.

"I saw him put it on your desk."

I chuckled.

"Will you open it," she asked. "The curiosity has been killing me."

I scoffed before picking up the gift.

I pulled off the wrapping paper to find a book. On top of the book was a folded piece of paper. I put the paper down on my desk before properly reading the cover of the book. I chuckled.

"What is it?"

"It's the last book in that series that I was talking about," I said, holding it up for her to see. "I... I don't know where he found it."

I grabbed the piece of paper that had been placed on the top.

I grinned a bit at the short note.

You deserve so much better.

Maybe he had a point.

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Navigation Guide

What I Write For

Some Original Characters

[triplesilverstar]

Well you'd get an answer eventually

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Pairing: Vash X F!Reader

CW: Smut, Fluff and Smut, Cunnilingus, Grinding, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Mirror Sex, Dirty Talk, Top Vash, Stripping, Strip Tease, Making Out, Tender Sex, Light Angst, Teasing

Word count: Roughly 8.4K words

A/N: You'd wondered about it a few times, why there always seemed to be more people on the move this time of year but it wasn't like you could ask. That would have had everyone looking at you funny since it wasn't a religious holiday or gathering. Maybe your favorite plant man of a boyfriend could clear a few things up for you as to why the solstice seemed important to people and what it was all about.

Alright, I will have to reorder the series once more, but for now, enjoy this lovely holiday smut that was once more inspired by art. I love when people draw Vash looking so certain of his sex appeal with a hint of being cocky. 

Wincing as the bus hit a rut on the road and you bounced on the seat, your sore butt didn’t feel the landing but the almost healed injury in your abdomen felt it. “You alright?” Puffing out your cheeks and letting out a long exhale Vash tried to pat your thigh reassuringly, almost wedged against you. It wasn’t like you could do anything about it stuck between the blond and the inside panel of the bus, the two of you headed for the city of Augusta. 

You and what felt like half of Noman’s land. 

You wouldn’t have minded the bus ride if it had the usual number of passengers but right now it was packed full, so between Vash in the seat next to you and both of your bags in front of you any bump had you in pain. “Tell me we’re almost there?”

“Almost.” Tilting his head in that adorable goofy way you love you close your eyes, trying to breathe through your mouth. Letting out a happy little hmph as Vash discreetly slips his hand into yours, no doubt still upset with himself for letting you take a bullet for him. One of these days your sad handsome plant man was going to have to realize you didn’t want him with more scars than what he already had.

He was right. Then again you were used to him being right when it came to the two of you and traveling together, it was a short fifteen-minute ride until the bus was pulling to the small station inside the city limits. Do your best to hide your discomfort from any of the other passengers as you and Vash disembark from the public transportation and make your way to the first hotel you see. 

The first hotel was a bust, and at the second you have the owner checking a room to see if it’s actually empty or not. In your head checking things off inside your head and you realize it’s near the winter solstice for Noman’s land. Fuck. That might explain why the bus was so full and the hotels seemed to be booked up. The past few years you’ve seen the gathering of people around this time on the planet, but you had no idea what it was for, it wasn’t like you could just up and ask without outing yourself as not having been born on the planet. 

“The room is empty, however, it does only have one bed.” You can see the innkeeper looking back and forth between the two of you almost as if trying to figure out if he needs to find another bed somehow. Or another room. 

“It's no problem!” Vash is quick to wave his hands in a disarming motion while grinning, seeing the relief flood across the innkeeper's face as Vash picks up the pen to start to fill in the register. Glad to have a room you start digging into your wallet for enough to cover the room for the next week, it should be long enough for you and Vash to figure out if the person he’s looking for is still around or not. 

As you approach the room behind the innkeeper, after he hands Vash the key he gives you both a short little wave and a wish. “Enjoy the solstice!” Biting your lip Vash returns the greeting before you both slip inside the room. 

It’s not too small and at least it is a double bed, not that you and Vash haven’t shared smaller ones in the past. At least the table has two chairs and a dresser but not much else, if the two of you need to work out you’re going to have to move the furniture around to do it. Yet as your eyes roam around the room you find it rattling around in your head and ask. “Vash. What’s the big deal with the solstice?” 

Dropping his bag on the floor with a thump he turns to you. “You don’t know?” Tilting your head and sending him a look of annoyance and disbelief, giving the snaps of your bag a flick so it drops with a louder thud and a little cloud of dust billowing up. “Right. You’re not from here and I can see why you couldn’t ask.” Rubbing the back of his head as he doesn’t need to voice the reason why you couldn’t before him. Pulling out a chair and sitting at it you see him rubbing his hands before joining him, his nervousness palatable. “It started out as a celebration for surviving the big fall.” his voice was wistful as those first few words tumbled from his mouth and you reached across the table for his hand. 

A short smile sent your way before he smiled as best he could with the sorrow in his eyes at the remembrance of the past. Of what he sees as his burden to carry. “It was to mark that we had survived a full year on the planet. If we could make one year then we could survive. At least that had been the thought. So as settlements grew and people started traveling so did the celebration, and it started changing. From that, some of the settlers and crews had survived to a celebration of having people to hold on to, a celebration of life.” Giving his hand another squeeze as you see him swallow again, shoving his sorrow back down. “Humanity really is amazing, the solstice is starting to fade a little but the main idea was about being glad to have hands to hold here on a world that humanity was never meant to survive on. To remind the people you care for that you do care for them and to have small little exchanges to show how you appreciate them.” Giving his head a shake and plastering one of those fake smiles he is so used to showing people on his face. 

“I think that’s kind of nice, Vash.” Your free hand reaches across the table to cup his jaw your thumb hooking the edge of his mouth. “No reason to give me a fake smile if it hurts though.” Feeling your brow furrow as you watched him for a few moments as the silence rang out between the two of you. “How come you didn’t say anything about it last year? When we were in the middle of nowhere?” 

“I thought you might have been someone that didn’t celebrate it. It is easy to forget you’re not from around here, Mayfly. Well,” He swallows again and you see a slight flush on his neck. “I also didn’t know if you had anyone you wanted to admit you cared about. You are a little peculiar that way.” His sly remark has you chuckling and looking down at the table with a sappy grin overtaking your face and a warmth spreading across your chest. 

“Oh I did, but I refused to even admit it to myself. I’m glad we sorted it out before too long though and you stuck around with my stubborn ass.” Laughter rings out through the room before the force of it has your abdomen throbbing. 

“Still sore?” Vash’s face shifted to one of concern pulling his hand from yours to drop to his knees beside you and lifting your shirt to show the greenish-yellow hue that paints your skin. 

“Yea. I should probably lay down for a bit to let it finish healing.” Giving his hand a playful swat as you reach for your bag to grab a change of clothes to nap in. “Wanna join me?” A rather seductive wiggle of your eyebrows has him laughing, moving closer to press a quick kiss to your temple. 

“Tempting, but I’m gonna look around the city first. You rest and I’ll be back later my pretty lady.” Giving his butt a playful swat and grinning as he left you changed and slipped into the bed, sighing as the placement of your body has less strain on your injury and it isn’t long before you’re snoring away. 

Vaguely aware of something at the edge of your senses you grumble before turning more into the mass of pillow under your face. Except whatever is making you wake up is rather insentient, feeling your body as it starts to shake and you let out another grumble. “Mayfly.” A warm wash of air along your ear and the tickle of soft fibers has you waking slightly faster, cracking an eye open to see Vash leaning over you with a smirk that makes you think of sin. 

“What?” Your voice is laced with sleep as you mumble the words, letting out a little noise of frustration as his lips glide along your neck. 

“Wake up, I have a surprise for you.” Finally giving in you roll over, dragging a hand down your face before looking at your partner and feeling an eyebrow raise. Now that you have a chance to take a good look at him you find a lecherous grin taking over your face. 

Vash has his jacket removed, and in place of his usual turtle neck that you still don’t understand how he can survive the desert heat with it, he’s in a sleeveless form-fitting shirt that leaves nothing about his physique to the imagination. 

“Any particular reason for this- Oh my.” Slipping his gloved hand under the hem of his shirt you watch as the tight fabric slides upwards, with a slow reveal of his toned and scared stomach. With all that fine skin on display, you can't help but look just below his naval and the blond patch of hair that disappears beneath the waistband of his pants. 

“See something you like?” A hint of playfulness in his tone, and you snort as the cocky bastard as his gloved hand resting on his jaw as if framing it so the shirt is stretched upwards and you have a full view of his chest. It’s a tantalizing sight and you feel warm for a very different reason as your gaze roams his revealed body, it doesn’t matter that you know every scar, wire, and patch of metal keeping your lover whole. It’s a sight you will never tire of seeing. 

“Oh, I sure do.” Finally sitting up your eyes are level with his ribs, hooking your fingering into the band of his pants and giving them a tug. “I’m a little curious as to where my adorable blush-covered plant man is. He’s nowhere near this forward with putting on a show for me.” 

“He’s still here, but his very forward lover has made him realize he needs to up his game.” Still keeping his shirt lifted his prosthetic lands atop your head, the metal tips scraping along the skin under your hair just enough to make you shudder. “Tonight I wanna watch you come undone just for me as I worship every inch of your skin.” 

“Really now?” You tease, lowering your face so you can lick along one of his scars painting his stomach. “Seems more like you want me to worship you with this little show.” You don’t miss the shifting of his muscles as your tongue moves along the ridge of hardened skin. 

“I just know what I need to do to rile you up.” Smirking down at you as you catch his eyes while you move to trace one of the thin lines of wire near his belt, lapping at the edge as if it’s something far more interesting. Giving your eyebrows a small wiggle as you slide your fingers along the inside portion of his waistband under you feel the metal of the button that fastens them. “To get you all hot and bothered so you’ll let me have my way with you.”

“Clearly.” You grin, moving your face closer to his naval with a trail of kisses until the tip of your nose is rubbing against the coarser hairs. “I think, you should be a little more demanding instead.” Placing your lips outside of the straining fabric covering his crotch and you can feel the heat radiating from his cock against your chin. “Telling me how I should be sucking that dick of yours that I can’t get enough of.” Mouthing at the fabric even as your back objects to the awkward angle. 

“I know you can’t get enough of it, that you like it best shoved deep in your mouth with my balls hitting your chin.” Sliding his hand down from the crown of your head to your neck, his thumb pressing against the hollow of your throat. “You seem happiest with drool pouring from the corners of your lips while this.” Gliding his thumb tenderly along the soft skin along the front of your neck as he speaks. “Seems to bulge from my cock pulsing in that lovely wet cavern of yours while your nose is pressed against the bottom of this tantalizing trail.” 

You can’t hide the shuffle of your thighs trying to add a bit of friction to your throbbing clit as you clench at his dirty talk. “Damn Baby. When did you get so good at being dirty?” Taking a deep inhale against his happy trail as you slowly blink up at him, hoping to get a rise out of your flirty lover in the form of a blush or some stuttering words.

“I learned from the best my Mayfly.” Letting out a soft hiss as he places the lightest pressure against the column of your throat. “Now, you’re not getting your way tonight. I needed to make sure you woke up and I had that slit between your legs dripping.” Damn, he really is putting his best foot forward tonight in taking charge. “Now sit up my Mayfly so I can get started.” 

You let out a little ‘hmph’ at being denied but do remove your hands from his body, but not before pressing a sloppy kiss to the space just above his belt buckle. Sitting up on the bed and taking notice of movement out of the corner of your eye, turning to see a full-body mirror near the door. “Vash honey?”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head over that for now. Just keep your eyes on me.” Making a show of slipping two of his gloved fingers in his mouth and letting out a moan as he lightly sucked on them before trailing his fingers down his stomach. A thin line of drool connects his tongue to those lovely long digits that breaks just as his hand disappears under the fabric of his shirt. A sway of his hips as he takes a step back from you, followed by another and giving you a sultry wink. 

Tapping his radio on the table that has the radio announcer making a statement about something you don’t catch as Vash’s eyes go wide and he hits another button. The sound of what you can only describe as strip music starts playing from the speaker and you find yourself grinning at your lover and the slight crack in his little display. “Wrong button.” He whispers before blowing you a kiss. “Now where were we?”

“I think you were about to try and give me a strip tease my pretty plant man.” Snapping his fingers at your statement as if he didn’t actually remember what he was up to starting to shift his hips to the music. You know Vash knows how to dance and how to cause a scene, and damn because right now he is putting both together to the sound of the music and you could swear he was lust incarnate with the way he moved. Every slide of his hands along his toned body has your eyes following the movement, and before long your thighs are rubbing together and your lip is starting to hurt. 

“Don’t bruise those Mayfly, I want to be the only one to mark you up tonight.” Blinking rapidly as his words sink in and you stop biting your lip as if you were about to draw blood. His flesh hand ghosted down the center of his chest and over his well-defined abs to the apex of his cloth-covered thighs. Hooking the hem of his shirt and in one fluid movement pulling it up and away from his body and looking at you with flashing blue eyes, the briefest illumination from his plant markings has you letting out a pant as your mouth dries like it’s been in the desert for months. Unlike your mouth, your pussy gives another pulse and a wave of wetness drips from your center. 

With his shirt off he makes a few more twists so the muscles along his arms and back ripple, a low whine echoing around the room. “Oh my, I didn’t know you could make noises like that.” In a flash, he’s leaning into your body his hands on your thighs parting your legs and his chest forcing your own back onto the bed. “I think I enjoyed hearing just how desperate you are, and all because of a little show.” Mouthing at the skin along your neck while his hips jolt against your clothed core and you hear the same noise again, at least this time you’re aware it’s coming from you. 

As his warm lips ascend to catch your own a harder grind has you panting, but Vash doesn’t take advantage of your distraction in the way you suspect with his fingers skiming along your parted thighs to your belly. Hooking the hem of your sleep shirt and yanking it upwards and away as he moves back closer to the table to lower the music while you shudder from the sudden chill, feeling some of your skin pebble. “You have no idea how much I want to rip that bra off you and play with that chest, they fit in my hands so perfectly.”

Finding your voice you try for coy as you adjust the way your body is leaning back against the sheet, spreading your legs and placing a hand just above your clothed sex. “What’s stopping you handsome?” 

A brief chuckle as he grins, sliding his hands down his chest and twisting his hips in time to the music as he grasps his belt buckle and with a flourish unsnaps it and pulls it from his pants. “I know if I get started with them right now I won’t want to stop, and once I get started I don’t want any clothes in the way.” A husk to his voice that you weren’t expecting as his gloved hand slid back up his abs, sweeping to his remaining nipple and circling it with his thumb before moving higher to slip his fingers in his mouth once more. 

Two can play at this teasing game. Keeping your eyes on him as you arch your back to slip one of your hands under you and undo the fastener before flexing the muscles of your tummy to pull you into a sitting position as if at the end of the string in a single graceful motion. You don’t miss the way his hips still as the fabric falls away and you cup both breasts and push them together. “I think they’re a nice sight like this, but you know what would be nicer?” You question with a flirtatious wink sent at him. “Your dick framed between both of them.”

A groan from Vash and you think you see the fabric around his crotch flutter before he’s sucking his fingers with gusto and removing them from his mouth with gusto. “That is a lovely thought but I’d rather my cock framed by your pussy lips than your tits right now.” Closing the distance one more and taking one of your hands from your chest and placing it around the zipper of his pants. “Think you can give me a hand with my pants? They seem to be getting a little tight. ” Licking the shell of your ear as he says the last word and you feel a tingle along your spine as your walls clench around nothing. 

“I think so.” Catching the metal between your thumb and forefinger and slowly tugging it down, the sound of the teeth separating seemingly loud in the small room as you keep looking at each other with heaving chests. If this is the best foreplay you’ve had you don’t know what is, your panties are drenched to the point you can feel it seeping out onto the fabric of your pants. As it comes to the end you hear a happy little groan from him as he kisses the space just behind the shell of your ear. 

“Good girl.” Letting out a squeal as his hands are on your hips and in one fluid motion your pants and underwear are both gone, leaving you bare for his roaming gaze as he tosses both somewhere over his shoulder. “That was for taking my chance to pull your bra off with my teeth away.” A short upward tick of his eyebrows before he makes a show of shimming his hips as his pants slide down his legs, revealing the just as heavily scared tissue of his lower half. The only thing still hidden from sight is his weeping cock, because with the damp strained fabric, you have no doubt his slit is dripping as much fluid as you are.   

With a casual flick of his fingers, the music dies and he strides toward you dropping to his knees at the edge of the bed and planting his lips on your naval with a flutter as he starts to blaze a trail of kisses along your tummy to while his hands glide along the sides of your ribs with his palms facing the words so his knuckles are grazing against your flesh. A strange mixture of cool and hot sensations from the different hands paired with his mouth has you panting in desperation. 

“Vash, please Baby.” Your hands are in his hair, grasping his scalp as you try to pull his lips from your skin. “I need you to touch me!” That low whine is back in your throat once more and you don’t care, your sex is throbbing and his teasing isn’t helping you get to a release at all as your body feels like it’s on fire. 

“I am touching you Mayfly.” He won’t be swayed in his actions, palms turning to press carefully against your body and using his hips to lift you more into the center of the bed as his mouth trails upwards. “I did tell you I planned to worship every inch of your skin tonight.” Jerking your core upwards trying to rub against his clothed erection you cry out in frustration as he laughs against your skin, using his hips to pin you in such a way that your actions are doing nothing to help you chase that sweet release you want.  His mouth keeps moving and you’re starting to believe he has every intention of kissing all over your body, just when you think you might find some relief as he reaches the first of your breasts you cry out once more as he ignores the plump flesh and your hardened nipples. 

Sweeping his tongue along your clavicle as he keeps moving, kissing along the inside of your arm and you notice he’s tracing the lines of your scars as he moves down the limb to your fingers. “Every time I’ve seen these, I wanted to do this. To trace those silvery lines with the tip of my tongue while you writhe and thrash beneath me, to shower you in devotion.” Kissing your knuckles before moving to each joint in your finger before starting to move back up your hand. “Now I finally get to, and it’s even better than I imagined because each little noise you make is sending a line of fire down my back while my heart pounds in my chest. It's beating so fast it almost hurts and my stomach feels like it’s tied in knots. That’s what you do to me, you make me want to have something just for me for the first time in my long life.” 

As frustrated as you are with the pulsing of your core his tender words do make you still for a moment, the reminder that Vash is almost putting the needs and wants of others before his own. Your beautiful, tragic, selfless plant man. “You do Vash. You do make me feel like that Sunshine.” 

A flick of his eyes and a gentle smile sent your way as he repeats the actions to your other arms. “I’m glad. And later, I hope you remember when I have you panting with my cock filling you to the brim while I fuck that hole of yours.” His one-eighty to dirty talk has you reeling but your cunt feels like it is on fire with the throbbing and clenching it’s doing, you need something, anything , inside of it right now. Hopeful as his head descends your body but his hands keep you in place, it’s too much to ask as he just places a quick kiss above your sex before moving down your legs. 

At last, he finishes the path of mapping your body with his mouth, of tracing all your scars as he climbs your body once more until your head is framed between both of his arms as he looks down at you in wonder and lust. The whole time he kissed, licked, and sucked at your skin your hands were free to roam even if he ignored all your insistent tugging to try and get him more where your body wanted him, and now you had them draped across his shoulder with your thumbs pressing into the back of his neck with a slow dragging motion. 

“Sunshine, please.” Panting as your body thrums, you’ve been hovering on the edge for so long and you’re ready to snap searching for any kind of release at this point. You have little doubt that you look like a mess, still trying to writhe under Vash for any kind of friction while your body burns like you’re in an inferno. 

A deep chuckle that you hear and feel as his chest quakes against yours, looking down at you with hooded eyes. “Please what Mayfly?” His teasing is driving you insane as he closes the distance to rub his nose along the ridge of your cheekbone, keeping his lips away from yours. 

“I need to come!” Doing your best to rut up against him while your mouth chases after his and your nails dig into his scalp. “Please, fuck me.” A choked sob as tears of frustration line your eyelids. Another chuckle from Vash, as his arms shift so one of his hands can tangle in your hair, a quick tilt of your head and he finally smashes his mouth to yours. Teeth clacking together as he groans into the kiss, his lips insistent as he rolls his hips just right so you feel his covered length brush against your desperate core. 

Back arching as you try to grind against him and part your lips, your movements frenzied as you slide your tongue against his as the coil inside of your tightens. Only to wail as he pulls up and away, his hands on the sides of your face and his chest heaving a hair breath away from you. “Not yet. But I’ll let have some release.” A wildness in his eyes as his hands move leaning back and grabbing your hips to better adjust you, and you cry out, his cock is framed between your pussy lips your slick adding to the damp fabric that serves as a barrier. 

“Tell me, can you come from just this or do you need a little help?” He doesn’t wait for your answer, rolling his back and locking his lips over one of your nipples and sucking. Your back arches at an angle that’s almost painful from the surprise, your hands moving with no real reason as they grip his blond locks and you whine like a bitch in heat. A hum from Vash as he sucks, his flesh hand on the breast he isn’t sucking at like a man starved, his palm rolling the hardened bud with a light touch. 

You're grinding up against his length as best as you can, chasing that high and feeling your core throb in time to the shifting of your hips. Every so often hitting your clit on the head of his cock and making yourself let out a symphony of whines. Vash of course is grinning, his mouth never leaving your breast as he lavishes it with his tongue, circling the hard peak with the pointed tip and watching your face contort in pleasure. He can feel your juices soaking his underwear and his own sex is throbbing with need, wanting to be encased in those slick walls of yours and emptying in his balls deep inside of you. Seeing your eyelids flutter he switches tactics, pinching one nipple while bitting the area in his mouth hard enough to leave an indent of his teeth in your flesh. 

You recklessly rutting against him now, as the sudden pain that laces through you snaps the tension that had built inside of you. Gasping his name as you come, a fresh wave of wetness leaves your core as you slump against the bed with your fingers dragging bonelessly against his skull before hitting the bed with a soft thump.

Vash lifts his head enough to survey the marks left on your breast, his chest swelling with pride as you squirm under him clearly still lost in the haze of your first release. It was worth the build-up,  sweeping his hand across your stomach and feeling the heat still rising from your flesh. He takes a few deep breaths as he watches you, using the time while you recover to try and get his own sex to calm down, he’s not done with you yet. 

As the racing of your heart starts to slow you raise a hand to rub against your face, pushing your sweat-soaked locks from your forehead before opening your eyes once more. A dopey love-sick grin adorns your lips as you look at Vash, his pale chest a vibrant shade of red as it heaves. “That. Was. Amazing.” Breathless as you coo up at your lover, a break crack in his facade as he returns the tender smile. 

“You did seem to enjoy yourself.” His hand is still sweeping across your skin, the cool fingertips making your muscles quake as the chill sinks in. “However.” Clicking his tongue as if disappointed “You made a mess.” You feel the confusion building in you until his flesh hand dips between your thighs and slips between your bodies with a quick scooping motion before raising it for both of you to see the slick covering his hand. Sticking the fingers in his mouth and sucking noisily as he watches you and you feel your walls clench and your stomach tighten. Fuck. You can hear as the fluid is pulled from the material of the glove he’s still wearing his eyes closed, and his face warped in a look of pure bliss. 

As he pulls his fingers away he smacks his lips and runs his tongue along his bottom lip as if savouring something. “I guess I’ll have to clean it up before we continue.” His voice even as he delivers the statement so matter of factly before lowering his head for a quick open-mouth kiss and you can taste yourself and traces of his own fluids on his tongue. Letting out a soft moan as he sweeps the wet muscle around yours and lifts your hips so he can shuffle his body from where you were starting to grind against him once more. “So desperate for release.” Tutting he lowers your hips and starts kissing down the center of your chest, lingering for a moment at the scar under your breast and over your heart. 

“You just had to come that violently huh? Making me have to do extra work before plowing into you.” You shudder as your breath leaves you in a long exhale, biting your lip as the anticipation builds watching his face intently as he keeps moving lower, letting the tip of his nose dip into your belly button and kissing your navel before giving it a bite hard enough to bruise. 

The fire inside of you is building once more and you feel your clit throb as his chin brushes down along the flesh of your sex while his head keeps moving. His eyes are like shining blue points as he watches you, well aware of the effect his movements are having on you. 

Once he’s between your thighs he has his nose against your dripping sex and takes a deep inhale that has your face burning. “Fuck you smell so desperate like that hole of yours knows I’m going to pound into it until you can’t walk.” Chuckling as he watches your core clench. “Such a needy drenched thing. Soon I’ll fill you to the bursting.”

You can feel as his the mused hairs of his forehead brush against your core, as he kneads the underside of your thighs and laps at the plush skin of one of them ignoring your sex for the moment. Sucking and licking your fluids that had spread along your skin with sure strokes, humming as he works enjoying himself while your aching for his touch once more. “Vash, Sunshine.” A desperate undercurrent to your croaked words “Please, I can’t take any more teasing. I wanna warm you up, baby.” He ignores you with a tightening of his hands under your legs and swiping his tongue is a circular pattern as he moves closer to your hole, letting the muscle press flat against your slit before moving to the other side. Thrashing in his hold as you try to get him to slip it past your folds. 

Another chuckle that you feel as the vibrations run along your skin. “Not yet.” He laves his affections onto the other thigh all while keeping an eye on your throbbing sex, watching as more fluid drips from between those shiny lips and down onto the bed sheets below you. It’s a debaucherous sight, to see your quivering muscles that he’s so used to having wrapped around his length as they pulse wanting to be filled. Indulging himself as he keeps licking at your skin and listening to the little noises you make, trying to contain them behind one of your hands as he works. It’s all for him and his body tingles knowing this is all because of him, that you’re so desperate to come because of what he’s doing to you. “I know you want me inside you, thrusting into you and making you see stars while you try to drain my balls for all they’ve got. I want that too, to watch you come while my cock splits you open  but first to clean up the mess you made of yourself.”

You let out a wordless scream as the takes that first seemingly innocent lick along your slit, his tongue curled to scoop as much of your juices into his mouth and letting out a noise like a cat that’s gotten into the cream. Relishing the taste before diving back in with sure strokes along your folds, a light skim of the muscle along one side before darting to the other flicking your opening as he goes. It’s enough to have you howling, shoving a hand into your mouth, and biting down in the meat between your thumb and index finger to try and dampen your sounds.

Vash is relentless between your thighs, sucking and licking with different strokes that alter between light and hard as he works to make you produce more and more slick for him to consume as if drunk on the taste of you. His nose bumping your clit has you trying to grind into his face to push yourself into that oblivion of post-release haze once more, Vash of course is having none of that. Looping his prosthetic around your waist and pinning your jerking hips to the bed sending you a glare that makes you pant seeing his chin covered in what you can only assume is your juices and his saliva. Damn, that look at you struggling against his hold has you wanting to kiss him and drown in his affections, your inner walls clamping painfully. A quick survey of your dripping slit and secured hips has a wolfish grin forming on his face as he goes back to your pussy, plunging his curled tongue into your depths.

His flesh hand reaches up from under you to use his fingers to part your folds, framing your spread insides between the V of his gloved middle and index finger letting him swirl his tongue leisurely and watching as you spasm for him. Using the tip to trace a pattern of whorls against your walls before plunging the muscle as if he was fucking you with his tongue, the slight tremble of your body has his cock painfully rock hard under his hips rolling them just enough to try and relieve some of the pressure. 

He knows he won’t last long as he feels your pussy clamping around the intrusion, trying to pull him deeper inside of you. From the noises you’re making and the micro rocks of your hips he can tell you’re close again, sliding his fingers along your folds as he withdraws his tongue from your cunt to suck at your clit and slipping a single finger inside. 

Your reaction is immediate as your walls seem to try and crush his finger with the force of their spamming and you let out a broken sob. A swell of pride once more as he keeps sucking at the bundle of nerves and plunging his finger side of you, curling it to start to stretch you out before adding a second. The wet squelching of your walls around his fingers as he works them deeper until he’s knuckle deep, twisting those digits around and tapping against a spot he knows can make you come. Alternating it with the spreading of his fingers to scissor your slick core feeling your body trying to restrain them and pull them deeper. Adding a third he starts to finger you harder, jerking his hand against you while he flicks your nub with the tip of his tongue. Lifting his gaze from your fluttering sex to see your eyes closed and panting like you’re running a race. 

“Mayfly, open your eyes.” A command that he growls out at you, that you’re compelled to obey and the second your eyes meet his sinfully dark expression that coil inside of you snaps. Thrashing as much as he allows you as you squirt over his fingers while you fall apart for the second time that night. Vash doesn’t relent as you come this time, his fingers replaced by his mouth as he drinks down your release with wide swipes for his tongue along the length of your pussy forcing you to come a third time as your body writhes from the overstimulation and Vash moans as he keeps lapping at your juices. 

A whimper from you has Vash pulling away his hand rubbing along where the imprint of his arm had been around your waist, feeling a little sheepish that he had gotten that into it and almost hurt you. 

You just let out a soft whimper as you bathe in the afterglow, feeling the pulsing of your heart through your body as your senses return to you as if waking up from a pleasant dream. Vaguely aware of the mattress rising and the sound of bare feet padding across the floor while you breathe deeply, a pleasant buzz at the back of your skull as your body sinks more into the post-coitus bliss almost ready to fall back asleep.

The sound of something being dragged as your brows furrowing, the heavy sound keeping you from falling back asleep as you try to push yourself onto your elbows to see what is happening only to flop back onto the bed as your body isn’t ready to support any of your weight just yet. 

Vash chuckles seeing you struggle as he places the mirror where he wants it before shedding his drenched underwear. Hissing as his cock bobs in the open air at last an angry red from being denied so long, reaching for his canteen on the table and taking a drink before turning back to the bed. “Let me help you up.” Using the one hand to help you into a seated position and holding the canteen to your lips. “You need a drink, between all the sweating and fluid you had dripping from your core you’re probably feeling a little light-headed.” 

You nod, taking a sip and leaning into his form. “Yea, I wonder why.” Mocking him as you take a few more sips with your eyes closed, opening them and seeing the closer mirror. At least now you know what the dragging sound was. “What are you planning Sunshine?” Suspicious as both of you have used a mirror before as you reminded the other why you cared for them so much. 

“Just something a little different.” Taking the canteen from you before standing and returning it to the table and you let out a happy little noise at the sight of his free cock. Seeing the pre cum smeared around the head you feel your pussy throb a little and your mouth water as you wouldn’t mind a taste of him at last. As if senses your lecherous thoughts Vash sighs “Not that.” 

Sitting on the bed with his legs spread you get ready to question him about the way he’s positioned himself, at least until he’s tugging you to the edge of the bed and getting you to stand. Almost falling over as your legs wobble before he keeps you steady, maneuvering you to face the mirror before getting you to settle against his lap. A few minor adjustments and you have to admit you’re feeling warm already. Reflected back at you are both of your faces, sweat lining your brows and both of you looking disheveled with your hair plastered to your face. A few bruises forming just beneath sections of your skin and your chest is moving in time to his, his hands stroking along your sides. Perfectly centered in the mirror is his throbbing cock, the head weeping and framed between your parted pussy lips. 

Vash is nosing at the skin of your neck, your hair pushed to one side as he rubs his lips and the point of his tongue along the space where it meets your shoulder but his eyes are on the mirror watching you. Using the reflection to stare into your shining orbs he places a soft peck there before speaking. “I want us to have sex while watching ourselves in this mirror. I want to see both of our faces as I split you open on my dick, as we come and I paint those lovely insides of yours with my seed. To watch as our shared release drips from those swollen lips back down my cock onto my balls.” 

Damn, the picture he’s painting for you has you swimming in arousal as your pussy throbs and a dampness starts to seep from you spreading to his hot flesh twitching against your opening. “Me too Sunshine, I wanna see you fill me up.” The words are low, as your body shakes with your labored breaths feeling that fire inside of you starting to build once more. 

His cock is searing against your sex, knowing he hasn’t come yet tonight makes you wonder how pent-up he is as his hands glide along your side. Pressing another kiss to your skin while keeping eye contact before whispering against your ear. “Put me inside you when you’re ready to start.” Watching yourself in the mirror you reach up first to touch his jaw, fingertips sweeping along his cheek while you give a few small rolls spreading your juices along more of his length. 

It’s a sight to behold as both of you keep staring into the mirror not wanting to miss a thing as you reach down to grasp his length, a fluttering of his eyelids, lifting yourself enough to line him up with your slit. He’s kissing the palm of your hand waiting to watch as you impale yourself on his cock. A soft groan as you let your weight slowly drop before you moan as he splits you open and disappears inside of your body. 

Both of you are still while looking as your body adjusts clenching around him and seeing the slight movement of your sexes in the mirror. The twitch of his balls and the fluttering of your lips while your body burns from the stretch, twin sighs as you relax around him and he doesn’t feel like he’s about to blow his load just from being inside of you. 

“I want to burn this sight into my head, damn you beautiful stretched around me.” Panting against the rough skin of your palm and settling one of his hands over your belly where you can feel his cock throbbing inside of you. “Well, you look beautiful to me all the time. But I guess this just tickles something inside of me just right.” All pretense of being in charge is gone as he gives you a tender smile and you have to agree, this is a sight you want to remember for the nights that you can’t be intimate with your handsome plant. 

“I like how you look now too, like you’re ready to fill me to the brim.” A light laugh as he taps his fingers against your skin, moving your hand to interlace your fingers with his. A silent signal that you can move whenever you feel ready, and you start to gently rock atop him. 

“I am ready to fill you to the brim.” He admits as his prosthetic glides up your side and grips one of your breasts, helping to keep you stable as you ride him and groping your flesh. 

It isn’t long before both of you are panting from the gentle pace that has his cock hitting all the right places inside of your walls with the position you’re both in. You keep your movements shallow, ensuring he doesn’t slip out of your pussy as the sweat beads along your skin before forming rivets moving downwards. Watching where the two of you are joined and the small bump that moves under your hands as his cock keeps brushing deep inside of you. “Fuck, I’m not gonna last Mayfly.” In his eyes, you can see the strain as he tries to hold back, after denying himself all night and now finally wrapped in your tight pussy. 

“You don’t have to Sunshine. Fill me up just like you promised.” You whisper watching his cock slip more inside your body as Vash spreads his legs a little more allowing you to sink farther down on him. 

“Come with me.” Huffing against your hand still against his face and you see the desperation in his eyes. Letting him slide his hand and yours down to your cunt, as he uses your fingers to circle your clit to help push you to that precipice with him. 

“I will Vash, I’ll come with you so I can milk those big balls dry.” Hearing him hiss as you move harder against him increasing the tempo of the movement of your hips. “I wanna watch as you pump me full, please.” Pleading with him as your voice hitches, the fire inside of you building as he works both of you to the point of no return. 

“Fuck, I want to. Almost there.” His panting, closer to a growl as his eyes narrow in the mirror, the sight of you making his cock throb deep in your walls feeling the way you're clenching him already. “I want you stuffed full we can’t move.” 

“Vash” A short cry as Vash can’t seem to hold back any longer, rocking his hips upwards and spearing you on his dick while he presses harder into your clit. A low groan that sounds like your name as you both tip over that edge, your Walls spasm and contract around him in a vice-like fashion as he floods your core. The force of his release strong enough you feel it splatter against your womb as you keep squeezing him, wanting every last drop he has in your pussy. It’s a struggle as you both keep your eyes open while your face twists into ones of ecstasy as the shockwaves roll through you, and Vash lowers his face from your hand to bite into your neck. 

Both of you watch with cracked eyes as his balls keep throbbing and you can feel the slightest swelling of the bump inside of your body as he pumps you full. As you both sit there breathless you watch the first creamy stream slip past your abused sex and roll down his length before pooling on his balls and dripping to the floor. 

“Vash?” A soft exhale of pain as his mouth releases the skin of your neck. 

“Yes” A whisper of your name like a promise as his eyes seemed glued to the sight. 

“Happy solstice” A chuckle as his arms wrap around your middle and a kiss to where the newest bruise on your neck is forming. 

“Happy solstice my love.” Humming before you let out a short snort. 

“Think anyone heard us?” 

“Mayfly, if they did I think we would have gotten a noise complaint already.” You nod leaning back into his chest as your hands rub against his arms, fingers dipping into the gap of the metal that forms his forearms. 

“Wanna go again in a bit?” 

A louder laugh as he noses the shell of your ear before smirking at you in the mirror. After all, the solstice is the longest night of the year, and the two of you are just getting started.  

Back to Masterlist for the series

[trashlama]

Wazzup dudes! Just your friendly neighborhood heathen back with a little poll of mine.

Out of curiosity what's your guy's favorite televised version of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles(TMNT) and why?

Personally even though I love both the 2007 ver due to it being the first one I ever saw. And the 2012 ver because I grew up with the dork squad.

I'd hafta say my favorite would be TMNT(2003). The art, character development, the jokes, the dimensional hopping, all the different villains that barely ever make screen appearances in any other TMNT adaptations. The fucking radical crossover special with the 1987 versions. I love how they even go futuristic for a minute(because for some reason in the 2000s cartoons were really into the ~future~.) Buuuuttt it was great. Literally was my OG thirst. I simped so hard for these boys as a kid.

Anyways—

Yeah I was curious whatcha guys preferred. Mostly I just lurk around the TMNT fandom because I love it all. Though I noticed a lot of people seemed to either like the Bay verse or ROTTMNT. With some love here and there for the 2012 ver.

Depending on this week I might get some more TMNT content out.

Guys I'm having a writers block with the Future!Yan!Raph fic please bare with me. I have it mostly flushed out but, I don't particularly like it. So I might rewrite it. We'll see.

Also because of some outside inspiration I might do either some 2003ver, 2007ver or 2012ver content but, we'll see.

My requests are open! I find that little prompts here and there help me develop my ideas.

If you're curious about what I write/draw please check out →my master list←. It's always up to date with my latest works/ideas.

Thank you for looking! I hope you guys have a good day!

Here's some memes that I don't own that I found on Pinterest and they were just too funny.

[delicrieux]

Hiii! Can I request a imagine where the reader and Steve are dating but the reader gets jealous of Nancy bc she knows he was her first? She probably heard the phrase "You could never forget ur first" and gets scared Nancy is still into him or they still have romantic feelings for each other.

I DON’T KNOW IF IT’S A LIE OR IT’S A FACT | endless drabble series (summer edition)

summary: why does nance have to be so perfect - she’d be awesome if she wasn’t steve’s ex pairing: steve harrington x gn!reader       a/n: steve x nance aint working for me this szn so time to change the plot <3 used prompt 20. poolside, with trauma

masterlist. ☕. reqs are open for the summer prompt list! make sure to check out the summer features as well <3

“You never really forget your first love, you know?”

Whoever said that - the host of a popular talk show, a passerby on the street, the girls that used to make fun of you at middle school, the cashier, a student, your mom - can go right ahead and fuck themselves because they just ruined your whole evening.

You’re not one to hold grudges or succumb to fits of jealousy, but that lousy line heard once-upon-a-time-ago suddenly starts making a lot more sense than it used to when you look at Nance. She, of course, doesn’t mind you staring, because she doesn’t see you since she’s too busy looking at Steve. 

He’s a clueless hotshot as always, chugging beers and singing loudly and somehow migrating closer and closer to the edge of the pool. You had been worried that he might slip and fall a minute prior until you noticed that you weren’t the only one giving your boyfriend such undivided care and attention.

This party just went from alright to fucking tragic.

Something acidic bubbles in the back of your throat and you know that it has nothing to do with the drinks you shouldn’t be drinking. It spreads, it seems, from your throat to your lungs and makes it hard to breathe; travels further down your stomach till you feel only sickness and a pinch of anger. And as the poison flows so do your thoughts, obscene scenarios and what ifs and terrible occurrences where you realize Steve didn’t like you nearly as much as you thought he did.

...Yeah, no. The jury is still out on Nancy’s feelings for Steve, but the guy adores you, there’s no doubt about that.

He’s already turning in your direction to wave you over and possibly pull you into a dance and you’re half-way into a grin before the color drains from your face as he slips and falls and splashes into the pool to the sound of people laughing and gasping in surprise. There’s some flailing in the water. No one really rushes to help him since it’s pretty funny - he’s not drowning either, just laughing, but there’s something red on his face that drips and mixes into the chlorine, and now you’re more worried than amused.

You and Nancy seem to share some telepathic lane because the two of you move in unison to drag him out of the water. But when she notices you - or, maybe she just sees the way Steve looks at you - she falls back and you’re the only one to kneel by the poolside and offer your hand to him.

He’s laughing. He’s drunk. His eyes are gleaming. He grasps your extended hand and slowly, clumsily tries to get out of the water. Blood drips on the tiles. What the hell happened to his nose?

“Are you okay?” 

“What? Me? Of course!” He says as he sits down, “What? Oh, this?” He points at his nose, “Pshhh...” He waves it off along with your concerns, “Just a scratch. Don’t even feel it.” 

“U-huh.” You nod, not really believing him, “Sure looks like it, Stevie.”

“C’mon, don’t you believe me?” He throws his arm over your shoulders and pulls you closer. He smells vaguely like his cologne and chlorine, “I’d never lie to you.” He adds quieter, and you know that he means it. 

You want to kiss him.

Good thing you have every right to.

But before you have the chance to land on on his lips he snickers and pulls you into the water. The sound of hoots and more reverberating laughter is drowned out suddenly. Your eyes sting but you keep the open long enough to see him smiling. You don’t have to kiss him. He kisses you.

hope you liked it! <3

[trashcanwithsprinkles]

Wow, I'm mad at myself for being late to the favorite fic subject coming up /j

Personally, I'm a huge sucker for cya and have itysg as a second(however, if we decide to count your other fics then... itysg would be third while your smile makes me smile would be second). I think it's the amount of world building that makes it so interesting for me along with the fact that it takes place before the archon war. Like, there hardly passes a day where cya doesn't just... scoot right over into my thoughts making it kinda hard to reread cause it know it so well </3.

I am sad to say that I haven't checked out BitA yet. When I first saw it while looking for some other fic of yours to read, I didn't really like apocalypse stories much. I might check it out though cause I'm a lot more open to those kinds of stories now. I also remember starting every good intention, but I don't remember why I stopped... I think I had to get off my phone for a bit and just... forgot to continue? Idk I really should check those two...

You really get me Sprinkles- those murder mystery fics are so good! I remember reading one of genshin that was also mixed with a time loop and I just ate it up-(it was sadly discontinued and then deleted from ao3, but not before I managed to download it for future offline reading-) I'm honestly interested in those wriolette ones you mentionned, may I have a few recs if you don't mind? I need more wriolette in my life.

i do in fact have some wriolette murder mystery / cop mystery recs

A Match Made in France by oooohscar - not a murder mystery per se but it does contain mystery investigations. it's basically furina trying to matchmake neuvillette and wriothesley and she quickly discovers they work well as investigation partners? and so she starts trying to get them to investigate things together, but then shit gets out of hand. it's so fucking good and so fucking funny. like it's pre-reveal furina but i can forgive the mild ooc and- y'know, furina portrayal pre-trauma-reveal (?) just because it's so well written and hilarious (and also she's not portrayed entirely as a brat, i find her more absurdly histrionic than anything). also it's not just furina pov, it switches between all of them. it's incomplete but updating, and absolutely worth a read

The Gambler's Debt by Marsrevale - much more serious than the one above, this one is a murder mystery through and through. the mystery is still only starting, so it probably has a long way to go, but i'm patient so i'll keep up. it's basically neuvillette and clorinde going to investigate a series of murders in the fortress of meropide (this is a sort of modern au so meropide is a gambling house / hotel i think) and wriothesley is the main suspect, but there's also stuff going on between neuvillette and wriothesley bc they knew each other long ago but only wriothesley recognizes him. idk how else to describe it, it's really intriguing so far, i hope the mystery pans out nicely

Hold my hand, never let me go by Jinnmi - also a proper murder mystery, this one is about what is essentially a branch of fontaine's police force for criminal investigation led by wriothesley and the many interconected cases they have to solve. neuvillette is sent as a consultant to keep an eye on them, but ends up basically joining the team as they all try to solve a big case that seems to threaten the country whole and is also somehow connected to wriothesley's past. this one is very good, the murders might be a bit too gruesome for sensitive people? but still, really nice. i love the unsettling vibe of whatever the one behind this all is planning, the suspense is also really good. still updating and i rush to it every time a new chapter comes out, it had me in a chokehold when i first found it.

hope those sound interesting!

[accirax]

initial thoughts on DCAS episode 6

THIS EPISODE WAS SO GOOD!!! the fact that it was a musical episode is totally the cherry on top; i love it when series come with their own music (cough cough me @ project sekai). but overall it was also really funny, and had some great character moments, too.

i'll save my thoughts on strategy and where the season might be headed for my next power ranking post (whenever that is :,( ), but were some of my other thoughts/highlights.

specifically the phrase "fuck my life" and Yul saying it made me cackle. seems like Emily ISN'T Yul's manager, but she might still kinda take on that role this season? we'll see. the lack of phones is really having an effect on the plot.

they hate her so fucking bad

okay, i guess i forgot to consider this angle when i was saying it would've made more sense for them to vote out Fiore. however, having started with 18 participants, the merge will probably happen at, what, 10 people? (modern Survivor describes the merge as "at least 11," but obviously this isn't survivor.) sure, Hunter is a bit of a challenge beast, but he can't protect all three of them every episode. if this trio is only 3/10 of the votes, you could literally split the votes on Ally and Tess in a 3-3-4 if you can get everyone else to unite against them. you know what you should be worried about? THE VILLAINS ALLIANCE HAVING 6/"10" VOTES AT THE MERGE!!! sigh. why am i relying on Jake to be smart (/j)

i'm more impressed that there was hot water in the first place. this thing is in the middle of a field, no?

i'm finally starting to see how Yul can be a hilarious "love to hate him" kind of villain. he had some of the best lines this episode hands down.

TREVEK BECOME CANON???

there was absolutely no reason to put the apple on the stick other than to fit in. love this for her.

idk if this is a winner's cut moment or not. glad that the money would go towards schools and NOT the police force, though.

man, now i want to go back and check the other episodes to see if Tess has had the "Cyan Team narrator" role the whole time. in Survivor, that's indicative of a deep run. ...i really need to stop applying Survivor logic to everything.

and why are you thinking about what would make Oliver laugh, Kristal? ',:)

i appreciate the s1 callback, but Trevor doing this dance move gives me so much second hand embarrassment that i keep inadvertently closing my eyes every time i have to "see" it again. anyways, given how most of the episode songs had lyrics related to the Team's emotional state, it's interesting to see that Trevor is singing a romance song. trevek become canon pt 2?

this was an interesting parallel. with Kristal laughing at Derek's joke, it seems like they were trying to show how she's growing closer to Derek, in a way which Trevor might fear is romantic. were there supposed to be romantic undertones to Alec being the only one to laugh at Connor's joke? and, if there were, was that just a fun nod to the aleconnor shippers, or will it actually be canon/relevant to later in the season?

NOT a surprise. i need to see the "i want you died" poetry he wrote about Fiore after last season.

of course you were, you fucking fruit (affectionate)

the anguish: i love my gf :D let's frolick through a field together

"trust me dude i'm the divorce man"

GABBY?????

mood but also damn is Ellie really leaning into the villain thing this season. this doesn't even help her win the season, she JUST wants to see him suffer.

i forgot that the s1 contestants didn't know that Nina was her own separate being yet

they were NOT lying, Aiden's VA is a great singer! Tom's backing vocals and Ellie and Gabby's harmonies(?) were also really nice too, though. this was probably my favorite song of the episode just bc i think Cyan had the strongest singers. all of the rocking, shoulder-moving dances are also impossible not to imitate.

well, there's the thumbnail. their choice of thumbnail made me laugh bc i remember, back when i was watching s1, seeing all the thumbnails of Aiden kissing both James and Hunter and thinking that Aiden was going to be some sort of troublemaking flirty antagonistic character only to be blindsided by his actual characterization. i'm sure the s1 watching me would have only added this to her arsenal of evidence, although hilariously idk if i would have been able to tell the other character was Tom at the time. anyways, i was pretty certain from the start that this must be part of the performance. although, while i'm happy that Aiden seems to think that James will be okay with the performance, i wish we could have cut to James somehow just to confirm that that was true. i don't want the next time we see James, whether in the finale or some other time, to show that he was actually really jealous and upset at Aiden for kissing another man while in a committed relationship. also gabbielle(?) super cute in the bg :D

he's so fucking stupid... (/pos)

bold of you to say this to Ashley, who has been in a two year relationship with the guy who went home in episode 2.

i also really liked this song :D i understand why they made Jake and Ally the main singers, because they best encompassed what the theme of the song was about, but i think i actually liked Ashley's vocals the best. i wish she'd gotten to sing more. also for a moment i thought Marcus had a trans flag on his hat. it's still close enough. trans Marcus canon.

this was probably my least favorite performance of the episode, although idk how much of that was just how much i hate Alec's outfit. glassesless Alec scares me so bad... no hate to the VAs, obviously, i think they have nice voices! it's actually the way that they didn't sound like they had confidence in their singing abilities that made the performance feel a little shakier to me. i do think that this song had the best lyrics in terms of encapsulating each member of their team, though. i really like how Yul and Riya are the ones to sing "i'm going to chase it" as a duo, because they're the ones chasing fame and the limelight, and then Grett sings that she can't ignore it, because eventually she's going to have to realize that her entire relationship with Yul was a result of him clout chasing. Connor only singing "live in the moment until i die" is also very fitting given his placement... in both seasons. L.

really surprised that Riya (or anyone else) didn't even mention Yul's foot injury as part of this equation. Riya just said that she didn't want to lose any more challenges, and Yul's bad foot could totally lead to a loss. maybe i'm just overestimating the extent to which that foot injury will stick around, though.

season 2 characters are REALLY suffering out here.

HELP??????

love to see Alec and Fiore's kinda sorta dual redemptions. i have high hopes for them.

and those were my initial thoughts, which got way longer than i expected. thanks if you wound up reading towards all the way down here. i have no idea who the leakers are, obviously, but i really hope that they stop acting up soon so that the series can continue. i would hate to have the artists have to take a pay hit and/or stop making the series just because of some people's impatience and delusions of power, or have the honest patrons lose out on being able to watch the episodes early to protect from others' immaturity. see ya!

[dreamersparacosm]

life as we know it - prologue

an austin butler x reader fanfiction. 

warnings ; none <3

a/n ; i am SO excited to be starting this series!!! this chapter is just setting up the premise for austin and [y/n]’s relationship, leading up to the events of chapter one, so there’s a lot of time jumps. i might be publishing this on my wattpad as well but more details on that to come. for now its a tumblr exclusive ;) enjoy and lmk your thoughts!

official series masterlist linked here 

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

you wanted to crawl into a hole.

maybe that was harsh, but for the circumstances you were given, it felt right. your heel tapped impatiently on your wooden floor. the clock idly ticked, its persistent sound humming in your brain as a way to say ‘look at me, check me.’ cozied in the nook of your leather couch, you inhaled another deep breath. if you checked your watch one more time, someone would have to diagnose you with a disorder. why did i agree to this? why..why...why? you could only scold yourself, for it had been you who had consented to your best friend’s idea to go on a blind date with her boyfriend’s friend. now, you did trust her. however, her track record in college included but was not limited to: barista with bad coffee breath, soccer player with heavy accent, and aspiring lawyer with daddy’s money. so, maybe it was your fault, because how could you not see the red flags?

you were starting to think you should’ve just ordered takeout and sunk into your mattress. 

the sound of your apartment buzzer ringing jostled you from your hateful thoughts. about damn time, you shook your head in annoyance. you smoothed out your fitted black dress, planting a believable smile on your face before swinging open the door to reveal… what the actual fuck? behind your door, a tall man with blonde hair stood before you, disheveled, in a black t-shirt and a baseball cap. you didn’t even have to look at him for more than five seconds to know he put about 10 minutes into his appearance. you blinked twice, hoping that when you did, he would disappear from your door and a man in a dress shirt and pants would reappear. a girl can dream. he placed his hand out to shake yours, speaking, “austin. austin butler. you’re [y/n], right?”

“that would be me,” your hand reached out to meet his, and a lousy handshake followed. somehow, you had already begun counting down the seconds until the date was over. but, you were a pleasant person, so no harm in accepting the free meal that was an antidote to any first date. “nice to finally meet you.” 

“am i late?” he spoke in one breath, running his hands through his curls. that seemed to do nothing for his appearance. did this man even shower?

“umm.. maybe an hour?” you shrugged your shoulders, praying that steam wasn’t coming out of your ears at that moment. he was, precisely, an hour and fifteen minutes late. if you knew any better, you would’ve put on your pajamas and let that damn doorbell ring until five in the morning. “but, you know, it took me a while to get ready, and i was warned by allison that this was kinda your thing, so…”

“oh, no way,” a chuckle exited his mouth, but it felt more condescending than anything. was it acceptable to slap someone on the first date? “that’s funny, because peter said you might say something about that.” 

it absolutely was not funny, but you found yourself forcing a laugh. there was nothing else to do in the situation, because simply put, it could not get worse than this. “oh, alright, great, thanks peter,” the compulsory giggles were still flying from your lips, and as soon as they came, they went. a moment of silence fell between you two as you sized each other up. meanwhile, austin butler was having his own thoughts. allison’s friend is fucking hot, he thought to himself. score for me. i’m getting laid. 

“well, should we head out?” you swung your purse onto your shoulders, hoping to peel his eyes off your body and possibly some of his sinful thoughts. he shook himself out of his trance, just before he was about to eye up your legs.

clearing his throat, he responded, “yeah, yeah, let’s go.”

“great. let’s get some dinner. i’m super hungry, it’s been like an hour,” you couldn’t help but let out a snide comment, but he seemed to either ignore it or play dumb as you two entered the elevator. it was a long, awkward ride down that seemed viciously torturous. you were already thinking of things you could ask allison to do to make this up to you, but you’re not sure anything could amount to this kind of torture.

“so, how long have you been here in the city?” he finally broke the silence as you two exited the elevator.

“since i graduated school,” you walked beside him, heel clacks echoing off the walls. “you?”

“just for the month,” he shrugged, shoving his hands into his pocket. “here for an acting gig.”

“oh, you’re an actor?” you furrowed your eyebrow. see, allison always left out the most important parts, such as ‘oh, he’s missing a tooth’ or ‘oh, he’s an actor!’ she was known for throwing you into the deep end, left to your own devices as if you needed any more of her tactics that were becoming more anxiety-inducing than anything else.

“struggling actor,” he corrected you.

even better. you decided to brush it off, since there was no need to dwell on the fact that this man possibly had no money or a real career. “how long have you known peter for?”

“high school.”

“oh, wow,” you nodded, waiting for him to ask you some sort of question. he opened the front entrance door of your building, barely holding it for you. at this point, you were all out of words to sputter out in anger. “i’ve known allison since college. we were in a sorority together.”

he didn’t even acknowledge your sentence as you stepped into the night air, the warm august breeze engulfing and comforting you the best it could considering the situation you were in. austin looked around the street, as if he were searching for something important. he whipped around to face you, a confused expression painted on his face. “…where’s your car?”

“uh, where’s your car?” you questioned accusingly.

“did you miss the part where i said struggling actor? here for the month, yada yada yada?” he crossed his arms over his chest, and it took all your energy to not reach out and slap him across the face. free meal, you repeated to yourself, one more hour and i can escape.

“no worries, we can just take my car,” you exhaled a deep breath, digging in your purse to pull out the keys to your new car. you hadn’t even really taken it for a spin yet, waiting until you were desperate enough to be seen driving around in a car in new york city. you finally found your key, unlocking it and crossing the street to open the driver’s seat. he continued to shock you by not even offering to drive the car — to which you would have said no — and he tucked himself cozily into your passenger seat.

“so, where should we go?” you turned to him, gripping the wheel so tightly your knuckles turned ghastly white. he couldn’t have messed up the dinner aspect of the date, right?

“uh, where did you make reservations?” he popped an altoid in his mouth.

your mouth gaped open in shock, neck jutting forward at his words, “you said you were gonna make them. you… didn’t make them?”

“i said that?” he scratched the top of his baseball cap quizzically. “i mean, bold of you to trust my advice but—“

“it’s fine,” you sighed, hoping the sadness didn’t reflect in your tone. “let’s just go anywhere. this city has stuff open all the time.”

“great,” he nodded. “so you pick.”

“you’re making me pick too?” you had to grip the wheel even tighter than before to stop yourself from slamming your forehead into it.

“i mean, is this my city? i’m a hollywood guy,” he shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.

“right, yeah,” you said as if it were the only thing you had ever known. “okay, well, how about scarpetta? you ever heard of it?”

“nah, sounds fancy, though. is that, like, italian or something—“

his inquiry was cut short by the sound of a ringtone chirping through the night air. ‘baby got back’ eerily played from austin’s phone, and your eyes narrowed as you watched him wiggle uncomfortably in his seat beside you. great, and this guy uses actual songs as ringtones, you mentally made a note to block this man after this interaction. “oops, my bad,” he fumbled with his back pocket, trying to shut off his phone without removing it from the confines of his pants. “just my phone.”

“you can answer if you—“

“no, no,” he waved his hand at you, his hand jamming deeper into his pocket. “it’s gonna go to voicemail.”

you wanted to speak over the song, but no words could echo over the sound of the singer talking about a girl’s voluptuous glute. “you know what? how about you just answer that?”

“you… want me to answer it?” he knew it was a trap, he was well aware, but he also knew that it could be another one of his new york city booty calls coming through, and god forbid he missed that.

“just go ahead, it’s fine,” a forced grin was plastered on your face.

“great, thanks,” he let out a breath of relief, removing his phone from his pocket. “hey, you,” his tone dripped with sexuality, and your jaw fully gaped open as you realized this man wasn’t just accepting any old call, but a literal booty call. in front of you. openly.

the girl’s voice behind the phone was incoherent to you as he carried along in a sweet voice, “you know me, always in the middle of something…yeah, yeah…eleven? oof, that won’t work…10:30 okay?”

you blinked rapidly, jaw still unhinged as austin wrapped up his conversation. “so sorry about that, just one of my sick friends.”

“you know, we really do not have to do this,” you began to unbuckle your seatbelt. at that point, no free meal was worth this kind of excruciating pain.

“really?” he perked up in his seat, his shoulders straightening as he sat up.

“oh my god, are you for real?” you stared at him, eyebrows stitched together.

he turned his body to face you, unbuckling his seatbelt as well, “listen, let’s be honest. the moment you saw me, you didn’t like me. and in all seriousness, we both know how these things go. we’ll exchange small talk over dinner, i’ll probably make you split the bill, but it’s okay because you would be wine drunk, so we would still hook up and then we would tell our friends it went well, even though we’ll never speak again.”

he was really being serious.

“what the fuck is wrong with you?” you couldn’t help but laugh to yourself, gripping your purse in your hands as if it were a concealed weapon.

“look, it’s the weekend. i’m just tryna have fun,” he put his hands up in defense. “i can hang out with my sick friend, and you can do whatever it is you do… which is?”

you stared at him blankly, unable to formulate words. “i do things,” you said finally, sneering at him.

“right! of course! you look like you read. go read a book!” he exclaimed as if it were a magical discovery he made. the dimwit thinks i fucking read on a weekend night, you said to yourself.

“okay, you know what?” you rolled your eyes, “if you wanted to ensure this wasn’t going to be a shitty night, here’s a tip. don’t make a booty call in front of me and don’t show up an hour late!”

he pressed a hand against his heart, faking his shock, “she’s very sick.”

“oh, of course. super sick,” you retorted sarcastically “were you planning on healing her with your magic penis?”

“hey, some ladies just need a little loosening up,” he winked at you suggestively, and that was just about the last straw for you. you opened your car door, hopping out as fast as your legs could take you.

you turned to him, leaning down so he could still be in earshot, “get out of my car. now.”

“no problem,” he opened up his door on the passenger side. “i don’t know what they were thinking.”

“yeah, me either,” you marched towards the entrance of your building, leaving austin stranded and to his own devices. regardless, he couldn’t care less. he had never been happier to escape from such an uptight woman. see, this is why he didn’t involve himself with corporate women. they were too strung out from their 9 to 5s.

as soon as you crossed the safe threshold of your front door, you whipped out your phone, dialing allison’s number swiftly. she picked up on the first ring, unable to get a single word out before you cut her off, “allison marie carter, the only way you can make this up to me…is if you promise i never have to see him again.”

apparently, your words carried as much weight in the universe as a feather.

as it would only happen, your best friend was absolutely head over heels, foolishly and disgustingly in love with her boyfriend. you had about 8 months of bliss, lost in ignorance that you would never have to see austin butler again. that was, until peter decided to propose to allison in paris. to make matters worse, allison and peter wanted you and austin to be their best man and maid of honor. to add even more salt to the wound than humanly possible, you were coerced into spending every second of every godforsaken day with the man who’s ringtone still haunted you in your dreams. lucky you. you cursed yourself for picking a best friend that would be lucky enough to marry a man who was mature and wise beyond his years, but his best friend was the human version of a penis.

if you weren’t so annoyed at the world and its sneaky ways, you might’ve possibly enjoyed her wedding. however, it became clear that was not going to be the case.

despite your eagerness to act miserable, you couldn’t hide the excitement that had buried itself deep down within you. you had talked with allison for years on what it would be like to meet the man you were going to wed, and to spend eternity with that person. at the time, it had grossed you out just enough to fear men forever, but alas, you were still stuck at a wedding ceremony, holding that damn bouquet of flowers and avoiding all eye contact with austin butler.

if allison had caught on to your ongoing feud with austin at her wedding, she made no point in mentioning it. if you weren’t four drinks in already too, you possibly would’ve dropped the vendetta you planned against him. needless to say, those drinks were getting the job done. during the wedding photos, austin managed to sneak a slap to your ass, causing you to chase him around with your bouquet frantically as the photographer got some ‘candid shots.’

god, i need more shots, you thought to yourself, exhaling the deepest of breaths as you looked around the crowded ballroom. you had done the phony introductions to allison and peter’s families, but no amount of alcohol was going to get you through the pit in your stomach that sat heavily, screaming at you. in some way, it felt as though you were losing a part of yourself with allison getting married. she was always your counterpart — not that much would change, peter knew the rules of your friendship — but it felt like you were back in kindergarten, learning that sharing was caring.

you made your way to the bar, pushing aside hordes of people to make direct eye contact with the bartender. at this point, you were sure he was beginning to know you by name, and tallying how many drinks you had left before he cut you off. ‘always be my baby’ by mariah carey echoed over the speakers, almost making you queasy.

“drinking all alone, princess?”

nope, never mind, you thought to yourself, now i’m queasy.

you slowly turned around, meeting austin's shit-eating grin and automatically getting the urge to slap it off his face. you were starting to wonder how they let barbarians into a wedding. of course, he knew the answer to his own question, but his common theme in your life had been ruining your peace. you blinked twice, already fed up with his antics. “trying to, butler.”

“aw, that’s not fun,” he teased, sliding in next to you and pulling out one of the barstools to perch himself against. you’re already counting down the seconds until he graces you with some peace.

“trust me, it is fun,” you scoffed, avoiding his eye contact.

“whatcha getting to drink?” for a moment, you thought he might actually be interested in your answer, until he literally confirms to you that he is definitely not, and is just looking for an opportunity to bully you again. “you strike me as one of those vodka cran girls. or, or someone who gets a martini just so they can feel classier about blacking out.”

you son of a bitch.

you smirked to yourself as the bartender slid the drink over you ordered a few minutes prior, “ma’am, here’s the jack and coke you ordered.”

you relished in the fact that you didn’t even have to turn to meet his eyes to know he was thoroughly impressed. “wow, jack daniels? i wouldn’t have guessed that one.”

“what can i say?” you took a sip, chugging as much as you possibly could to feel some sort of buzz. “i’m a woman full of surprises.”

“i like to be surprised.” now, if you weren’t tipsy, and he wasn’t also floating in a bit of liquid courage, you would say that the conversation you two were having was friendly banter (or the closest thing to it). but, through a drunken girl’s perspective, you almost took his sentence as an outward flirt. nevertheless, that wasn’t who you two were. you two constantly argued and teased each other, even after allison and peter forced you two to make up after the set-up debacle. plus, your brain couldn’t afford to be having sexual thoughts about anyone, especially not someone as demonic as austin butler, the communal whore.

so, you settled for the friendly version of your story. “shouldn’t you be balls deep in some girl right now?” you played with the straw in your drink, looking around in hopes of finding any other contenders to speak to.

he chuckled, a real one, which thoroughly weirded you out. “not before the speech. gotta wait ‘til after, they’ll come flocking after i make a few jokes.”

you narrowed your eyes at him, resisting the urge to roll your orbs into the back of your head. “you really believe you’re that funny?”

“maybe not, but somehow the girls still love me,” he smirked at you, squeezing your shoulder teasingly before ridding you of his presence and walking off to join peter on the dance floor. you found your eyes deceiving you and following him, watching as he did some ridiculous handshake with his best friend and chugging his beer. you shuddered at the thought that girls could even be attracted to him, especially with a body count as high as his and ego even higher.

the speeches came and went, and you cried a few times during your delivery. it was to be expected; there were too many stories to tell about allison being your platonic soulmate, and how buzzed you were that she had found her romantic soulmate. out of the corner of your eye, you saw austin gag himself a few times, but you knew the only one who would be sick was you after hearing his speech. knowing him, it was probably the raunchiest, filthiest speech known to man. with enough confidence to make you vomit, he walked up to the podium after you ended your speech, tapping the microphone a few times. you settled back into your chair, rolling your eyes at allison as she slapped your shoulder to calm you down. “hello everyone, my name is austin. i’m peter’s best man, and also his worst influence,” that earned a chuckle from the audience.

“i am so happy he asked me to be his best man. i was ecstatic when i found out he was going to be marrying allison, who is a better person than me, and that’s saying a lot. she consistently pushes him to work hard, and they’re always having fun together. they let me tag along on all their adventures, which also means i’m their pet. now, i could go into the crazy experiences peter and i have had, but those stories aren’t even rated pg-13 and i know half the people in here would rather die than hear those,” you found yourself cracking a smile at his jokes, but you rushed to wipe that off your face immediately as he turned to look at you. “now, i’m so excited to be part of this little family they created for me. allison and peter, i love you both dearly, and i’m grateful that you let me follow you around. peter, you’re my best friend and my brother, and i know that you’ll make allison the happiest girl alive. and, hey, if that doesn’t work out, i'm always down to get married, bro. congratulations you guys!”

your jaw was unhinged, eyes blinking sporadically to make sure you weren’t dreaming. did he…just make a heartfelt speech? to your surprise (and allison’s), you found yourself clapping along with the rest of the crowd. his eyes found yours, winking at you as to reveal an ulterior motive. damn it, he was going to get laid before you, probably with some poor, unsuspecting girl.

the night dragged on, drinks being poured and liquor being consumed. your drunken state wasn’t overbearing your ability to think properly, but you definitely were looser than you usually were. you had flirted with multiple men throughout the reception, however, you found yourself migrating to the happy couple. at that point, you must’ve been on your seventh jack and coke, because it didn’t even bother you when austin came up behind you and joined the little dance circle you three had created. in fact, you even interlocked hands with him during the ‘cha-cha slide.’ everything was blurry — too blurry — and you were beginning to wonder if the bartender was making your drinks extra strong on purpose.

allison and peter were so beyond hammered that they didn’t even bother to take note of anything you and austin were doing, since they were too caught up in their lovey-dovey romance bullshit. somehow, you’re okay with the dance circle, and you’re even okay when austin decides to slip his arm loosely around your waist. you’re not even thinking about doing anything with him in that way, you’re just content with the fact that you’re actually getting along on your best friend’s wedding day.

eighth jack and coke and one tequila shot courtesy of austin, and you’re officially too drunk to partake in any more wedding activities. your brain isn’t even working the way it normally would, because if it was, you wouldn’t be making your way down the hallway to a secluded room. you would not be going to said room with austin butler. you would not be laughing at the jokes he was making, and you most definitely would not be okay with the consistent hand-holding.

“god, who the fuck invented tequila?” he said quizzically, slurring his words just enough to send you back into a giggling fit.

“oh my god, we should go back and do the vodka one. i saw they have that new amsterdam shit,” you laughed, sipping your jack and coke as if it were water. he slid down the wall in the room that you two had magically found yourselves in, his legs failing him as his entire body buzzed with intoxication.

you sat down cross-legged next to him, still laughing to yourself like a lunatic. he finally stopped chuckling, taking the time to look over at you. it was the first time he had really looked at you since the blind date fiasco. he noticed your eyes glimmering in the soft light, the way your hair cascaded down your back. your fingers were wrapped loosely around your glass, freshly painted and slender. for once, he felt a different kind of insatiable hunger towards you. you soon realized he was gazing at you, and the giggles were cut short.

you two sat there in silence for just a few seconds. only mere seconds, before you said, “did you see what allison’s mother was wearing?”

and, sure enough, it was back to the laughing fit. he hit your arm playfully, wiping tears from his eyes at your joke. you didn’t even realize when he let his hand linger on your arm, moving down to place it on your thigh firmly. but, when you felt it grasp your body, his warmth radiating onto yours, you realized what kind of trouble you might have gotten yourself into. you slowly looked down at his hand, and when you peered back up at him, his ice-blue eyes met yours. for a moment in time, you two weren’t the sworn enemies you thought you were. you were just austin and [y/n], sitting on a cold, unwelcoming floor of a banquet hall at your respective best friend’s wedding. in another world, those two people would’ve figured out they should be together.

his tongue poked out, wetting his lips as he gulped down some of the saliva that had pooled in his mouth. you couldn’t even breathe; you were tied down by desire, and the need to feel his lips against yours. in your drunken state, you finally could see him as more than just that person you’re forced to spend time with.

but, not enough for you to actually go through with it. it is austin butler, after all.

so, when he inevitably began to lean in to kiss you, you yanked your head away immediately, pushing him away with your hand on his chest. “what are you doing?!”

“trying to kiss you..?”

“you thought i wanted to kiss you?” you uncrossed your legs, standing up and steadying yourself against the wall. it was like the alcohol was slapped out of you, possibly also your dignity.

“wait, we weren’t having a moment just now…?” he scratched his head, trying to push himself up for his two feet to land back on the ground, but somehow all the wind was knocked out of him from your rejection. why the fuck do i care? he thought to himself, already preparing himself to wake up with the worst anxiety the next day.

“no, we were not having a moment,” you rolled your eyes. “do you think every girl that talks to you and laughs is trying to get in your pants?”

“just to be clear, you’re not trying to get in my pants—“

“no!” you’re practically screaming at him, but you began to wonder if you were trying to convince him or yourself. either way, he still disgusted you enough to remind you that kissing him would be the nail in your coffin. “i wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole, butler.”

“i’m not that bad,” he finally found the strength to stand up, towering over you even with your added inches from your heels.

“you’re literally insufferable,” you mocked, taking the last sip of your drink. “trust me, i was just playing nice. glad to know you’re still the same person as always.”

in some part of austin’s brain, a deep part he repressed quite often, that statement hurt him. he didn’t normally get offended when people assumed he was some sort of man-whore — he was aware of his high body count — but when it came from your mouth, it felt demeaning. he couldn’t fathom why in the world he had any sort of inclination towards you in the first place. maybe he really was too drunk to be in attendance. “glad to know you’re still the uptight bitch i thought you were,” he pushed past you, leaving the room and the surrounding air colder than when you had first entered. you didn’t have the words to respond, but somehow, things were better left unsaid.

▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓

you’ve had more aneurysms than fingers at that point in your day. it began with the mommy and me karaoke that allison had coerced you into attending with her newborn, rosalie. you were all for mother-daughter bonding, but not when you were neither the mother nor the daughter. either way, you were feeling particularly nice considering rosalie turned 6 months that day, but you claimed that was the only reason why you joined the class.

six months ago, you still had a sense of normalcy rooted in your life, but it seemed as if all you did these days was tag along with the happy couple and their offspring. you didn’t mind it, however, one of the consequences of hanging out with allison and peter… was austin. he was everywhere you looked, every holiday party you attended. you saw him more than you saw your coworkers, which said a lot considering your diligent work in the public relations industry.

if you were perceptive, you would’ve taken that as a sign to stay as far away as possible from allison and peter. but, deep down, you knew that you craved the stability they had in their life. the white picket fence, the grandparents who visited them to drop off gifts for the baby, family dinners each night. it felt foolish, the way jealousy sometimes swept over you late at night when you were alone tossing and turning in your king-sized bed that felt empty.

“so… i started taking rosalie to this new family practice,” allison brought over a potato salad wrapped in saran as you vigorously worked on frosting the hastily decorated chocolate cake. from her tone of voice, you already knew exactly where this conversation was going. “there’s this doctor there. he is so cute. i actually may have replaced my crush on harry styles.”

“mhm,” you’re half tuned into the conversation, but also struggling to see the importance to anything she’s talking about.

“anyway…i noticed no ring,” she placed another bowl beside your cake, ignoring her urge to squint at the work you were doing. “….so, i asked his nurse what was up with him.”

“allison, you did not.”

“what?! [y/n], you’re single and —“

“i thought we agreed to a moratorium on the set ups!” you placed the knife down exasperatedly, pursing your lips and crossing your arms as you turned to face her.

“what if this is your soulmate?!” she clasped her hands together in a begging motion, and you couldn’t help but laugh at her need to induce fear in you with her set-ups.

“you literally have the worst set-up record of all time,” you pointed out, switching the cake to a spot by the window.

“like who?” she asked incredulously, and your mouth gaped open at her question, shocked by her audacity to act innocent in her role in your life.

“do i need to go over adult braces guy? the shoplifter?”

“you’re still holding them over me?” she threw her head back, laughing.

“i’m not even gonna get into the austin debacle.”

“okay, well, i’m still holding out hope for you two,” she raised her hands in defeat, ignoring the way your face contorted in disgust at his name.

“you’re sick in the head, alli,” you rolled your eyes, “please don’t judge me because i don’t have a ring on my finger yet.”

“i’m not!” she rushed to defend her stance, “i just want you to find someone great.”

“and, i will. i promise you’ll be the first to know about it,” you giggled to yourself, and she patted your shoulder reassuringly. although you built a fortress around your heart and desire to start a family one day, there was no need to let allison know anything in that regard, since it would only rile up her efforts more.

unbeknownst to you, peter and austin were outside in the backyard arguing with two teenage boys over their ability to set up a bouncy house. they were meant to act their age, but that didn’t come easy to the two of them, especially not austin, who had found himself in the middle of multiple love scandals in the past year. he was constantly breaking up with women, claiming they weren’t the ones he could see ‘marching towards imminent death with.’ his lack of real love in his life gave you a bit hope for your own story, which was still being written. it wasn’t that you weren’t looking for a boyfriend, it was just that you had been so caught up in the success of your career that you allowed yourself to have to settle for the excuse of it’s okay, i’m dating my job.

austin and peter strolled in through the back door, peter slamming it behind him as austin bounced rosalie up and down in the air. she seemed to love it; granted, she did seem to love her uncle austin more than you. that might’ve been because he had no boundaries or rules whatsoever. in some twisted way, you saw what she saw him in; his ability to dance across life with no timeline, with no cares or worries. you were sure that as a baby, she really stood by that method.

“hey, pumpkin,” austin pulled up right behind you, and you shuddered in disgust at the feeling of his warm breath waning over the back of your neck.

“why do you always have to be so close to me?!” you elbowed him in the chest, and he faked agony as he stepped back from the impact of the blow. allison and peter shared a knowing look, while you just returned to your task of filling the candy bowls.

“aw, rosalie, look. look, that’s what bitter looks like,” that earned another sour look from you.

“hey, austin, why don’t you go take your hat off? we all know about the receding hairline,” you bit back, fighting the urge to slam his head against the cabinets.

“hey, it’s a widow’s peak! i do not have a receding hairline,” he frowned, propping rosalie up on his hip. he glanced over at peter, hoping for some form of agreement, who instead ignored his best friend’s silent pleas.

“okay, you two, play nice today,” allison leaned against the countertop. “all of our neighbors are coming over and i do not want to them to think we run a freak show.”

“well, then you shouldn’t have invited austin.”

“okay, that’s it, i’m not dealing with—“

“shut it!” allison threatened, “now come over here and let me get a nice little picture of rosalie with her godparents.” her tone was anything but soothing.

your eyes nearly rolled into your brain, silently cursing to yourself as you stood next to austin awkwardly. he forced a grin onto his face, arm loosely wrapping around your shoulder. even his touch angered you, his body radiating sarcasm and mockery. just as you thought all hope was lost, that god wouldn’t bless you with any more of your wishes, rosalie burped, opening her mouth and unloading white liquid, splattering onto austin’s white shirt. precisely at that moment, allison pressed down on the button on the camera, capturing your wide-eyed joy (and real smile) and austin gagging at the scent of rosalie’s vomit.

it was going to be a good day, indeed.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

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