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#I feel like there was another thing I wanted to address but I’m forgetting….
notherpuppet · 22 days
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I think Lucifer being a baby faced kingpin is hilarious I doubt anyone will pay attention to him until their being beat up by him
Haha agreed! By the way!!!!
I’ve been getting a few anon messages about the Human Au with Lucifer as Kingpin and Alastor as a Hitman. Just wanna answer them here;
1. The Radioapple “Nanny AU” is NOT the same alternate universe as the Radioapple “Kingpin vs. Hitman AU”
I have different ideas for both of these hehe. The way I treat working on the Alternate Universes is like the movie “Everything Everywhere All At Once” where there’s just a multiverse of universes where things can be wildly different (everyone’s a rock) or only slightly different (someone’s wearing a turtleneck instead of a collared shirt)
I just have fun with it lol. But I’ll try to tag things so it’s clear what universe I’m drawing in.
2. When I am writing the AUs, IM TOTALLY JUST RELYING ON CANON INFO HAHAHA. Of course I’ll take things into fanon or crackship or brotp or whatever suits my fancy, but plot wise, I don’t know how much I’ll delve into things like; Alastor’s deal, Lilith, The Vees’ plans, etc. because I just don’t know what those are hahaha. I have my theories but they’re just theories lol.
EDIT: OH I REMEMBER WHAT I WAS GONNA SAY
Thank you all for your inquiries! I’m surprised and happy so many folks dig the AUs I made hahah. I’m just trying to cope with the wait until season 2 in all honesty LOLLL anyway I appreciate your interest and engagement with my fanart! 🥰
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kxsalt · 18 days
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“I’m not a whore!” She protests to her group of friends. The crowd looks at her, dumbfounded by her adverse reaction.
One of them breaks the silence. “Look, I’m not trying to offend you, but you’ve literally had sex with everybody here.” The girl pouts. Another man chimes in: “I haven’t had sex with her.”
“She told us last week that she sucked your dick in a nightclub bathroom.” He replies. “Well, yeah, fair enough.” The man admits. “Oral sex definitely counts.” One of the women jumps into the conversation. “Obviously, or it wouldn’t count for us girlies.” Another woman adds on with a shrug: “I just fucked her with my strap.” The group laughs. “Oooh, can I borrow that next time?”
The girl blushes. “That doesn’t make me a whore…” She mumbles, feeling called out. The woman carries on. “There’s nothing wrong with it, but if you take your panties off the second someone asks you for a threesome, you might be a slut.” The first man snaps his fingers. “That reminds me, remember when we asked to gangbang you? I’ve never seen anyone strip so quickly.”
“Damn, you guys got to gangbang her? Where was I?” The friend she sucked off in a toilet stall feigns insult. “You were out of town. Next time for sure.” The other man assures him. Shifting awkwardly in her seat, the girl is painfully aware of how wet she is from the conversation. “I just like free-use…” She whimpers pathetically.
“Oh, honey, we know.” The woman sitting next to her explains sarcastically. “When you ‘accidentally’ upload a video of you having sex to the group chat and ‘don’t know how to delete it’, people figure those things out.” The crowd bursts into laughter again. The girl wonders if she could get away with rubbing her pussy right now.
“I forgot about that! God, there’s so many stories. How about that Halloween when she dressed up like a ‘rope bunny’? All those fancy shibari ties, the bunny ears, nothing else?” The man mimics ears behind the girl’s head. “Don’t forget the time we all went camping and she ‘forgot’ to pack clothes.” As the group recounts their favorite stories about the girl, she rubs her thighs together, desperate to not prove their point.
“Any other good stories?” The man addresses the group. “Oh, not really a story, but…” Says one of the women. “…While she’s pretending she’s not a whore, what’s the deal with you pretending to be straight? You’ve fucked more women than I have.” The girl bursts out another protest. “I like guys! I just don’t want to not have sex with women, too!” Rolling her eyes, the woman explains to her with a condescending tone. “That’s called bisexual, honey…”
“My favourite story is the time I asked her to be my dog for a week…” The girl hops up from her seat. If she hears any more, she won’t be able to keep herself from touching her pussy. “Nooo! Don’t say it!” She begs him to not tell everyone. “…she really committed to it. Collared all the time, on her hands and knees, walkies, eating from a bowl, training her to do tricks. She never broke character. I’ve never seen someone as happy as when I put her in a kennel.” The girl’s legs tremble as she leans against the table for support.
“That’s a great idea. Usually, I just do blindfold and handcuffs, then edge the fuck out of her.” A woman regales the group with her story. “One time, I was sitting on her face after edging her for hours. While she was licking my pussy, I told her that I was never going to let her cum again. No joke, she came right then and there. I swear I wasn’t touching her pussy, tits, nothing, just grinding myself on her face. She came just from eating me out.” The woman points at the girl. “Because you’re bisexual. Or pan or something, I don’t care.”
“Call me vanilla, but I mostly just use her for porn. I swear I have a terabyte of videos of her by now. I still send her a clip every morning just to tease her. Haven’t had to repeat a clip even once, that’s how much I have. Hey, what clip did I send you this morning?” He asks the girl. “Umm, I think I’m, like, giving some guy head…?” She mumbles. “Right, the gloryhole. Those ones kinda end up the same.”
“While we’re on the topic: Sometimes she’s covered in bruises…? Who’s doing that?” A man and a woman raise their hands at the same time, then laugh. “Oh, you too?” The woman smiles. “It’s not my fault, you know how bratty she gets. The belt is the only thing that keeps her in line.” The man ponders her response. “A belt, eh? I usually just use my hands. The personal touch, you know?”
“Personally, I like to put a remote vibrator in her and have her go around doing stuff while I play with it. I bet she gets wet every time she goes into a grocery store now.” One woman calmly explains. The man across the table gets excited. “I do something similar, I cum on her face before we go out. We should collaborate.”
“I guess I’m not too kinky, I just have anal sex with her.” The man jokingly addresses the nightclub friend. “Don’t worry man, I haven’t had sex with her pussy, either.” The girl volunteers some more information. “You don’t just have anal with me, you always start right when I come over and… make me leave right after…” She clamps her mouth shut. “Oh, yeah. I guess that is a kink. Objectification or something.”
“I love being really really mean to her.” Another friend puts her face close to the girl. “And she loves it too. Isn’t that right, you dumb slut? Pathetic little girl. Listen to all these people who use you as a fucktoy, just admit that you’re a whore. Everybody knows that’s all you’re good for. Worthless slut, filthy little cum dump.” The woman hisses into her ear. The girl blushes bright pink. “…n- no…” She nods her head as she denies it.
“What about you? Just the nightclub thing?” A woman asks the only person at the table who hasn’t used her pussy. He hangs his head in his hands dramatically. “I think… I need a job with less travel…” Everyone laughs at his theatrics. The man stands and moves next to the whimpering girl. Her eyes widen as he takes out his cock and starts to stroke it. “I guess I should make up for lost time.”
The girl instinctively throws her body on the table and hikes up her dress. Her panties are a soggy mess; a huge wet patch from her pussy starting to reach up to her ass. Pulling them down halfway, the needy girl pushes herself towards his hard cock. He touches his head against her hole, then points himself upwards, grinding the length of his shaft against her body. “Nuh-uh.” He teases “Admit it, first.”
The girls head is spinning. Insanely horny, she tries to get his cock inside her. She whimpers as his dick is pulled away. “Say it. Come on.” She looks around at her friends. “ookie… fine… I’m a whore…” The crowd cheers as the man slides his cock into her pussy. The girl pushes back, burying him inside her on the first thrust. She cums immediately, while her friends laugh at her.
Her drool drips onto the table, her cum drips onto her panties. “I’m a whore. I’m a whore. I’m a whore.” Someone pulls her dress off. Another person points their phone at her. Another shoves their fingers in her mouth. Another grabs onto her breast. One leaves to go find her dog collar. The man fucking her pushes his thumb into her ass for a firm grip. The girl starts to cum again. Her voice is almost inaudible in the commotion.
“I’m a whore. I’m a whore. I’m a whore.”
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misctf · 2 months
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A Surprise Gift
“Are you fucking for real dude?” Jim slammed the door to their apartment and stumbled toward the couch, “I was this close.” He sat down and stared daggers at his roommate.
“She wasn’t interested bro.” Eric replied, “You were acting like a fucking creep.” Jim muttered a few curse words under his breath, “Sober up.” He tossed him a water bottle.
“Fucking cock blocker.” Jim whined before chugging the water, “She would’ve been lucky to...”
“You say that about everyone. Its gross man.” Eric sighed, “Look, I’m going to bed. You should too. And clean up the kitchen tomorrow. I’m tired of all the dishes in the sink.” Jim shot him another dirty look and stumbled to his bed.
“Fucking asshole.” Eric mumbled, hoping to forget this stupid night out. 
_______
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The next morning, Eric stumbled out of his room in just a pair of gray boxers. It was Sunday and he had a few things he needed to get done- mainly study for an upcoming exam and exercise. And of course, Jim was up playing videogames.
“Did you start on the dishes?” Jim glared at Eric, and before they could continue bickering, someone knocked on their door.
Jim mumbled something about it being too early, as Eric walked over and opened the door. Sitting in front of the door was a white box, addressed to Jim.
“Hey Jim, you got something.” Eric said, placing the box on the counter, “Any idea what it might be?”
Jim smirked, “Probably from one of my admirers.” He chucked, walking over and tearing open the box, “See dude, this is what happens when you... what the fuck?”
Eric couldn’t help but laugh at the contents of the box. Whoever left it had a sense of humor. There were several dick shaped lollipops, all of various sizes and colors. Jim looked mortified as he inspected them.
“Was this you dude?”
“Wasn’t me.” Eric replied, walking over and inspecting the contents, “Maybe someone’s trying to tell you something. You gonna try one?”
“No fucking way man.” Jim grimaced in disgust, “This mouth doesn’t suck dick. I’m throwing this shit out.”
Eric chuckled, “I’m not that insecure about my sexuality.” He said with a grin, plopping one of the lollipops in his mouth, “Besides, don’t you like doing it with guys too?”
Jim smirked, “I get sucked or I fuck. Not the other way around. I’m not some hole.”
Eric wanted to call Jim an asshole, but was at a loss for words. The flavor of the lollipop was intense, coating his mouth with an intoxicating sweetness. He began sucking vigorously on the lollipop, earning him a look from Jim.
“Yo dude, you enjoying that?” Jim chuckled.
Eric’s eyes widened, “Damn,” He chucked in embarrassment, “It’s pretty good.” He looked at the time though and sighed, “Shit I need to get ready. Finish those dishes, okay?”
But the rest of the day just didn’t feel right to Eric. Likely from the booze he told himself. His workout was shitty and even studying felt useless. Material he mastered was almost as confusing as when he first started. Feeling defeated, he headed back to his apartment.
“Hey man, what’s up?” Jim asked, his eyes never leaving the TV.
“Not much, just feeling off.” Eric replied, absent mindedly grabbing another lollipop and sucking on it, “Just gonna get ready for bed and start fresh tomorrow.” He stumbled to his room, collapsing onto his bed and drifting to sleep.
_______
The next morning brought no relief. In fact, Eric felt worse. As he stared at himself in the bathroom mirror, he noticed things were off. Maybe it was the lighter color of his hair, or the fact that his triceps and biceps looked less swole. Same with his pecs and legs for that matter. He poked at his pec and grimaced. It felt less firm, almost as if the muscle behind them was breaking down.
“I just need to work out.” He mumbled.
He threw on a pair of his shorts and a t-shirt, noticing that they seemed baggy on him compared to their usual tight fit. He probably fucked them up in the laundry. But he was running late- he didn’t have time to worry.
“See yA lAter!” He called out to Jim- his voice cracking, which caused him to turn red with embarrassment.
Jim raised an eyebrow and watched as Eric grabbed another lollipop, “Hey dude, maybe...” But before he could say anything, Eric was gone.
_______
Eric sighed as he returned to the apartment later that day, feeling defeated. He couldn’t focus on the review session his professor was leading. Every time he looked up, he couldn’t help but stare at some of the men in his class. More specifically their muscular arms, sexy smiles, and facial hair. While Eric never seemed to notice those things before, it was all he could focus on during class.
“Hey mAn.” Why the fuck did his voice keep cracking?
Jim looked over at Eric, “Woah dude, you don’t look so good.” He walked over to his roommate. Eric blushed when he noticed Jim wearing nothing but a pair of boxers.
He must’ve just worked out. Eric could smell his musk and couldn’t help but notice how big his arms appeared. The heat from his body was radiating, and without thinking, Eric placed a hand on his roommate’s large pec. It felt so good- so firm in his grasp.
“Woah dude, what the fuck?” Eric’s hand shot to his side. He looked down, deep in thought and trying to make sense of his actions.
Before Jim could speak again, Eric grabbed another lollipop and fled to his room, slamming the door and collapsing onto bed, tears stinging at his eyes.
_______
The following morning, Eric awoke and daintily hopped out of bed and sauntered to the bathroom. He found himself needing to pull up his boxers to prevent them from sliding off his skinny waste. When Eric rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stared in the mirror, he jumped.
“Wh-what the fuck?” He whispered, his voice more high pitched and feminine, “Where’d my pit hair go?” He mumbled raising an arm above his head, “Fuck what happened to my muscles?” Tears threatened to fall from his eyes. 
His hard earned muscles- tokens of his masculinity- all seemed to have shrunk down to nothing. His abs that he worked so hard on were gone, replaced by a thin layer of fat. He spent years working to get his body to peak athletic performance. Even a few days of underperformance at the gym shouldn’t have reversed his hard earned gains. He needed to get help... Jim could help him, right? Jim always looked good. So muscular and manly. Eric shook his head and took a few deep breaths.
“I kinda look like the guys Jim brings home” He whispered, a strange pride rising from within him, “I-I need to talk to Jim”, He left to find Jim. But as he did, he noticed the dishes still piled in the sink, “Hmm I should take care of those for Jim. He works so hard.” He thought, deviating from his path and grabbing another lollipop. If he was going to do the dishes, he might as well treat himself.
And when he finally finished, he treated himself to another lollipop. Barely remembering why he wanted to talk, he went to knock on Jim’s door. But the sound coming from the other side stopped him- the unmistakable sound of some porn video. And he could hear his roommate moaning.
With each masculine moan, Eric’s mind was melting. Why was some porno making Jim moan like that? Especially when he could make Jim moan like that? The thought of pleasing Jim... it was intoxicating. And as these thoughts violated his mind, he reached down and massaged his ass. He imagined Jim- his sweaty body, his big muscles, his huge dick- grabbing and slapping his ass And as he teased his asshole, Eric’s eyes began to widen- what the fuck was he thinking?  
He scurried back to his room, forgetting that he had an exam today. Instead, he sat there, sucking on another lollipop, and trying to make sense of what was happening to him. All the while, unaware that his ass was starting to fatten up as his dick shrank.  
_______
Eric stumbled out of his room a few hours later, hungering for another lollipop. His ass was massive now- nearly spilling out of his tight boxers. At least they weren’t loose anymore. But his gait had shifted too. He would never be able to walk again without showing off his ass with his sexy saunter. No one would ignore it- especially not Jim.
“Dude...” Jim said, looking up from his videogame, “Fuck...”
Eric’s face turned red, “Dude, I don’t...” He tried to find another lollipop but they were gone, “Bro! What happened to all the...?”
“You ate them all.” Jim said, walking over to Eric, “Shit, what happened to you dude?”
But Eric was near tears, “I need those lollipops, please.” He whined, “They’re so good.” And without a second thought, he wrapped his arms around Jim’s muscular torso and sobbed into his pecs.
Jim smirked. Since when was Eric so short? And damn, when did his ass get so fuckable? The jock cupped Eric’s chin and stared deeply into his eyes.
“Eric, I don’t know what happened to you.” He said with a grin, “But if you wanna suck cock so bad, why settle for those stupid lollipops?”
Eric looked up at him with wide eyes, unable to reply. Jim slowly pushed Eric to his knees, never breaking eye contact. And Eric, despite the voice in the back of his head screaming for him to stop, pulled down Jim’s shorts. His roommate’s monster of a cock slapped him in the face.
“Go on.” Jim encouraged, “I think you owe me for all the times you cock blocked me. Right roomie?”  
And with that, Eric wrapped his lips around Jim’s thick cock. The sensation was even more intoxicating than the lollipops. It filled his mouth- the saltiness dancing across his taste buds, while the smell of Jim’s manly musk invaded his nostrils. Eric’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as Jim thrust his cock deeper and deeper into his formerly straight roommate’s throat. And with each thrust, Eric’s hair became lighter and lighter- until settling on platinum blond. At the same time, Eric’s mind was breaking down. His interest in sports disintegrated- he would email his coaches that he was quitting the team. His desire to succeed in school was replaced by a need to suck and get fucked- he would drop out of school tomorrow. Any decency or respect he commanded was drowned in a sea of lust- a need for cock. Any cock, anywhere. Eric’s eyes became vacant and glazed over as the remainder of his intelligence, kindness, and ambition disappeared into the void. And when Jim caught the dull, submissive, slutty look in his roommate’s eyes, he came.
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_______
It had been a few weeks since then and Eric continued to serve his sexy roommate. Jim would go to practice and classes, while Eric would take care of things around the apartment. And when Jim would return, Eric was happy to provide him with either his mouth or ass. Sure, it was a surprise to when he came out as gay. And an even bigger surprise when he dropped out of college. But Eric hadn’t a care in the world. Just a hole- as Jim called him.
As he spent another day cleaning up after Jim, he heard a knock at the door.
“OMG is Scott here already?” Eric sang. Jim was nice enough to let the other members of the team use Eric when they needed. But Eric was disappointed to find just a letter addressed to him, “Hmm okay then.” He whined, opening it.
His vacant eyes read through the letter. Something about an apology. That those lollipops were meant to teach Jim a lesson for using others as nothing more than holes. That this wasn’t what they wanted. That there could be a way to reverse this. Eric giggled- a voice screaming from within his mind to reverse it. To call the number left on the letter and return him to his prior self. But Eric shrugged and tore the letter- the voice in the back of his head now sobbing.
“Reverse this?” He giggled, “Not a chance.”
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princessbrunette · 2 months
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when kitty!reader gets arrested for stupidly overstepping with a cop, it’s a no brainer that jj is coming to pick her up from the station. you’re expecting cockiness, maybe some middle fingers, and then some shared banter with you to cheer you up. what you don’t consider, is how hard it might be for jj to step foot back in that place.
your demeanour immediately softens when he steps up to the office to collect you, after being unnecessarily searched by a cop. his eyes are raking over you cautiously as he’s talking to shoupe, a hand rubbing at his chest anxiously which really — should have been the first sign that he just didn’t like it here.
from the way he was lacking mirth — clearly displeased, you assume the night would head in another direction instead. hard core dominance, a punishment — perhaps being forced over his lap or overstimulated until you cry. to think like this, he’d clearly spoiled you in the past.
you start rambling as he walks you out the station gripping your arm, barely getting a breath in.
“since when is it a crime to give ‘attitude’ anyway? they really think i’m a threat to anyone? what a bunch of pussies — seriously jayj, these are the people meant to be protecting us. all i did was state the truth, being that —”
“hey, hey alright—” he’s sudden with the way he addresses you, your words cut off as he pulls you to stand directly infront of him, both of his hands on your shoulders. you brace for the telling off that you probably deserve. instead, his voice is soft and he looks tired. “are you okay? did they touch you? ‘cus if they did i’m heading back inside so you gotta tell me now baby.” his gaze is intense and the little relieved smile you had was completely wiped from your face, blinking up at him like the seriousness had just settled in.
“i… no. they didn’t hurt me they just cuffed me but it was fine.” you’re taken aback and he sighs, tonguing at his bottom lip in thought before stepping back and pulling his cap off to run a hand through his hair.
“you know, like — i had hoped that you’d atleast paid attention and learnt from my mistakes. these cops they’re not — they’re not good people. you get that, right? like — if you piss ‘em off once, they don’t stop picking on you. look what they did to me.” his voice is still uncharacteristically soft with you, totally exasperated. you hug yourself, suddenly a lot more ashamed.
“really?”
“yeah. really.” you feel the irritation he’s holding back. “look i love you babe, and i’m glad you’re okay — but i’m not happy. at all. pretty pissed right now, honestly.”
the ride back to his is silent, and you hope that once you’re home things will simmer down. you just want to forget the day you’ve both had and go to sleep. apparently, so does he — but not with you. he avoids your eyes as he drags a pillow to the couch in the living room, followed by a blanket.
“jayj?” you sound so broken that he wants to give in, but you have to learn. he physically flinches at your voice, resisting.
“no, okay. i’m — i’m not mad. i just… being back in that place, after my dad…” he finally looks at you, and the memory of seeing you in there visits him all over again, springing that bothersome irritation in his chest. “i thought you’d get it. gimme a little time here.”
he sees how shattered you look and presses his lips together, dragging his feet towards you. he softly grips your face and kisses your forehead. “go to bed. it’s fine.”
you cry when you shut the bedroom door. you cry as you change into your pyjamas. you cry as you brush your teeth. you do eventually drift off, but you’re back up at 3:30AM, sniffling once more. you get it, you messed up — but neither of you needed this.
you pad into the living room to find jj staring at the ceiling, eyes floating to you where you paw at your eye, unable to stop the quiet mewls as you cry. he doesn’t say much, just opens his blanket to welcome you in beside him.
the anger at you returns, but you don’t mind when you’re on your back with your legs around his waist — your teary eyed boyfriend pummelling his dick into you repeatedly. he grits his jaw, pulling himself together.
“you think you’re a bad girl now, ain’t that right kitty? wanna do bad girl things n’get arrested jus’ like your boyfriend? you can’t handle that shit, your spoiled ass can’t even handle being scolded a little.” he rants breathlessly before sitting up to get a better angle, the blanket sliding off his back. he pushes your legs up and you whine.
“i’m s— i’m sorry papa won’t do it again!” you cry and he scoffs. it’s mean.
“you’re damn right, mama. clearly i got some bad behaviour to correct. what’s gonna teach you a lesson? me fuckin’ that little ass?”
your eyes glimmer with hope at the premise of this punishment and he gives your cheek a swift little tap before you get any ideas. “yeah, don’t gimme that look kitty. ain’t gonna feel like a reward when i do it, can tell you that for free.”
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luci-in-trenchcoats · 5 months
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No Such Thing As Monsters
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Summary: Dean is injured on a hunt and at first glance, appears to be fine. Quickly though, the reader and Sam learn something far more serious is going on...
Pairing: Dean x reader
Word Count: 1,200ish
Warnings: language, injury
“Dean,” you said, shaking on his shoulder, his eyes flashing open, fist tightening around his angel blade. “You’re okay. Sam took care of the ghoul. How’re you doing?”
“I feel like I just went through a wall,” he said, shakily getting to his feet, cocking his head at the damaged sheetrock in front of him. “Looks like I did.”
“You sure you okay?” you asked, his head nodding. “Sam’s driving us home, just in case.”
“No arguments from me,” he said, giving Sam a nod when he showed up, following his brother the few blocks over to where you’d parked Baby. Dean grabbed the passenger door, slamming his hand on the roof.
“Dean...” said Sam. Dean scrunched up his face, placing a hand on his head. “Dean.”
“Take me to a hospital,” gritted out Dean, your eyes wide. “Now.”
“What’s wrong?” you said, shoving him in the backseat instead, climbing in beside him as Sam started gunning it for the closest one.
“My head. Something’s wrong. I don’t...just hurry.”
Eight Hours Later
Your excuse of Dean taking a hard fall worked with the doctors but you and Sam were staring at one another after finally getting to see Dean again.
“Let’s talk outside,” said the neurologist, Dean giving you a smile as you followed her out.
“What is wrong with my brother, Sally?” asked Sam the second the door to Dean’s room was shut. 
“Retrograde amnesia as far as I can tell. He remembers certain things like his name, date of birth, address when he was a child. You’re lucky I was on call tonight to take his case. Neuro patients are hard enough, especially one’s that are hunters and have to lie about everything,” she said, crossing her arms.
“Sally, amnesia...isn’t that supposed to fade after a few hours at most?” asked Sam.
“Normally,” she said, taking a deep breath. “My best guess is a combination of lasting amnesia which will be hard to recover from but we can help him...and then he’s repressing all the hunting without realizing. You guys have seen some serious crap I’m sure he’d rather forget.”
“What do you mean repressing?” you asked. 
“I mean, Dean thinks monsters are made up, creatures from stories. He doesn’t know they’re real,” she said. You raised an eyebrow, Sam shaking his head. “He doesn’t remember the ghoul, he doesn’t remember the Vamp you guys took care of for me years ago. Monsters aren’t real to him,” said Sally.
“He’s known monsters were real his whole life,” said Sam.
“Technically, since he was four, almost five,” said Sally. “There was a time when he didn’t think any of this was real so it is possible.”
“You’re telling me Dean thinks he’s five?” you said. “He’s in his thirties.”
“He doesn’t think he’s five. He just doesn’t remember certain things. Like he understands basic long term memories, who his parents are, who Sam is...more recent things he’s blocked out,” she said. “Either by choice or because he really can’t remember.”
“Does he remember me? I only started running with the guys about five years ago,” you said.
“He knows your name and that he loves you but that’s about it. The details are all fuzzy for him. Now Dean’s not exactly what I’d call a normal patient. He’ll get thrown in an institute if he starts remembering here in a hospital and God knows what’ll happen to him in there,” she said.
“What do we do then?” asked Sam, Sally sighing and grabbing a chart from the nurses station.
“He has no bleeding in his head, just a few minor cuts and bruises from his tussle. Take him home, try to get him to remember. Any problems and you guys call me. I’ll get you some materials that help sometimes,” she said.
“What if he doesn’t remember?” said Sam.
“Then he doesn’t. Either way, you need to be there for him. You guys gotta get going. The other neurologist starts his shift in an hour and he’s going to want to look at Dean if he’s still here.”
Dean was quiet on the way home, sitting in the backseat, leaning against the backdoor as he stared out the window. Sam simply went through the motions, making him dinner, sending him to bed after checking his bandages, Dean wearing a confused but happy smile the whole time. 
“Y/N,” said Sam, catching you sipping on a drink the library, stealing the bottle to pour himself some.
“What are we going to do Sam?” you asked. “He’s...”
“Do you remember when I saved you from that fire? You promised you’d do anything I wanted. Anything. I told you maybe someday I’d take you up on it. We both know I was never going to but this...I’m cashing that favor in, Y/N,” he said, taking a long swig.
“Using a spell to get his memories back might be dangerous, Sam,” you said, earning a head shake.
“I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about the fact that my big brother thinks the world is normal. The weight of it isn’t on his shoulders anymore. He’s so light and happy. You’re gonna pack up his stuff, pack up your stuff, and you’re going to take him to a little cabin that used to be Bobby’s. It’s not that far out in the boonies so you’ll have electricity and internet and then...you’re gonna help him get a job, get a job yourself and you two are going to get the hell out of this life,” he said.
“Sam that is not-”
“You’re doing this. If something comes after you, you can protect him. Try it for me. If he starts to remember on his own, come back but please, give it a try.”
Two Days Later
“I thought we lived at the bunker place?” asked Dean, sitting down at your new kitchen table, watching you whip up an easy dinner. 
“We live here now,” you said, stirring the pot, taking a deep breath. 
“What do we do now?” he asked with a smile. “Do I go to work?”
“We’ll find you a new job,” you said, Dean pursing his lips. “What is it Dean?”
“You’re not happy,” he said. “I want to fix it but I don’t remember how to do that.”
“We both have to get used to this new life,” you said, giving him a nod. “We will. I don’t want you to worry about me, Dean.”
“I love you though. Of course I worry about you,” he said with a smirk.
“You don’t even remember my birthday,” you said with a smile.
“I guess I get to learn everything I love about you all over again then,” he said. “I do know I love you. I definitely remember that.”
“I love you too Dean. Every version of you. We’ll get through this too.”
532 notes · View notes
daycourtofficial · 8 months
Text
Everything is Not As it Seems
Summary: You’ve been abducted, and the inner circle have to find you as quickly as possible.
Author’s note: this idea’s been floating around my head all weekend so I needed to get it out. I’m thinking this will be three parts - I already have part two done and some of three ! Also I’m a bit obsessed with the idea of Evil!Eris.
You received a letter three days ago that hasn’t left you alone since. It’s a simple letter, requesting your presence, but it’s signed by a mysterious “hound”.
You’ve mentioned the letter to the Inner Circle, at first they thought it might be someone just messing with you. Telling them that there are things in the letter about you caused some of them to get really nervous.
“What do you mean, specific details?” Rhys asked, as you brought up the letter.
“Little things,” you reply, sitting in the seat next to Rhys, “for instance, it’s addressed to me as ‘Little Fox’. That’s a nickname my brothers gave me because I was born in the autumn court. There’s a line from one of my favorite poems at the bottom. They mention my favorite flowers. It’s small things, but I’m not sure. Things that people could know about me. It’s like they’re luring me in by telling me they know me. I really feel an urge to go to find out who this is.”
“If someone’s stalking you, sweetheart, running into their trap isn’t what you should do,” Cassian says, looking over your shoulder at the letter in your hand.
“I don’t think they’re stalking me - I just think it’s someone that knows me, or at least used to know me,” you say, pausing. “I don’t know how I feel about going. On one hand, why stay anonymous? On the other, what if they have important information? I don’t know what to do.”
Rhys is the only one who looks like he’s actually considering you going to this meeting, everyone else looks apprehensive.
“I think it could be beneficial. Even if they don’t have much to tell us, it could help us determine another ally,” the high lord states.
Azriel is trying to stay calm on the outside, but he is going feral on the inside. Sending you, alone, into most likely enemy hands? He won’t stand for it.
“We’re not risking your life for knowledge on potential allies,” Azriel remarks, looking at you not with possessiveness, but fear. “None of us want anything to happen to you. There’s not much to gain from this, Rhys, but there’s a ton to lose.”
You look at him for a moment, forgetting the point of this meeting, seeing the concern in his eyes as they’re focused on you. You’re about to say it’s a bad idea, not wanting to cause Azriel anymore stress, when Rhysand states, “you’ll go. End of discussion. We’ll have Feyre and Cassian nearby on the lookout for you.”
Seeing Azriel’s distress during the meeting almost made you beg Rhys to reconsider, but the high lord is currently under such a high level of stress, the last thing he needs is you complaining about this meeting.
-
The letter asked for you to come completely alone. Rhys and Feyre stayed out of your mental shields, afraid that whoever it was would be able to sense their interference. The only thing keeping you from completely loneliness were the two shadows wrapped around your ankles underneath your skirt.
Two shadows was decided - if anything were to happen to you, one would report back to Azriel while the other remained with you. It was the only interference from Azriel Rhys would allow. He wanted to be standing nearby, waiting for any sign of distress from you, but Rhys wouldn’t allow it. He was all too aware of the effect you had on his brother, and he was going to keep Azriel in his sight while you went to this meeting.
You were standing in the trees, at the border between winter and autumn, right where the letter asked you to be. The border is a mixture of deep red leaves littering the ground that trail off into about a foot of snow. The cold morning air making your breath visible.
You hear movement, ready to set eyes on whoever sent the mysterious note.
“Hello, Little Fox.”
-
Azriel could not stand still. Rhysand had never seen him so visibly under duress. Azriel, who usually kept stock still and kept a stoic expression. Azriel was pacing and his hair was standing up from how much he was running his hands through it.
“Azriel, she’ll be okay. If anything happens, she can winnow to us, to Cassian, to Feyre. She’ll be okay.”
Cassian was stationed in the winter court, Feyre in the autumn court, both equidistant from you, however too far for them to know what’s happening during your meeting.
“I don’t like this. Something feels incredibly off. An ally sending a letter like that? It feels more like a love letter than some form of allyship. I think you let the high lord position cloud your judgement on this.”
“If it were a love letter, she wouldn’t have entertained it.” The high lord said, looking through the correspondence on his desk. He knows his nonchalance will annoy Azriel, hopefully allowing him some reprieve from the concern he’s feeling for you.
Azriel tuts, “you don’t know that.”
Rhys sighs, “you’re right, if she thought the love letter was from you, she would have gone, no hesitations.”
The high lord smirks, looking at the shadowsinger to gauge his reaction. He stops mid-step, “don’t say things like that if you don’t fully believe them,” then continues his pacing.
“I’ve known her for a long time, Az. In that time, she’s had many suitors come to her. She’ll always go on a first date - she says it’s because “you never know”, or whatever. Since being here and meeting you, I haven’t seen her even glance at another male vying for her attention.”
Azriel stops, looks at Rhys’s face for a long time, trying to decipher any hint of deception. His face was void of it. In fact, he looked honest and almost vulnerable.
Before Azriel could ask more, one of his shadows comes whizzing in at an incredibly fast speed, news of you, circling around Azriel’s ears to tell him what it saw as fast as it can.
“We have to go,” Azriel says, his face darkening with concern and shadows.
-
“Eris Vanserra, as I live and breathe,” you say, a smile gracing your face.
You don’t hate Eris, you actually spent some time with him while growing up. You don’t know if you particularly like Eris, however you’ve always had a soft spot for him due to the cruelties of his father.
“You seem surprised to see me,” he says, a smirk growing across his face, “I’m glad you came.”
“Why in Prythian did you send me a cryptic letter, and not just tell me who was requesting my presence?” You ask.
He steps closer to you and the tree you’re leaning against. “Because I’m sure those dogs would have thrown out any correspondence addressed from me to you.”
“I don’t think that’s true,” you say, letting the dog comment go for now.
“Oh? Then what about all of my previous letters?”
You stop, “previous letters?”
“I’ve been writing to you for months, my dear. I had to figure out new ways to get in contact with you.”
His grin was so feline, your interest in this meeting at an all time high. If Eris wanted an alliance with the night court, why would he go through all of this effort to reach you?
“Well, you have my attention now, Eris, what is it you desire?” You ask.
A wicked grin takes over his face, as he removes his hands from his pocket.
“You,” he says, unfurling his fist to reveal a powdery substance that he blows directly into your face.
You stumble a little and cough, confusion knitting your brows. You start to feel very heavy, and instinctively you reach out to lean against Eris as your balance starts getting more and more unsteady.
Eris is taking a few steps back, making you follow him. What you don’t realize in your confused state is he’s leading you across the border into Autumn, and once you have both feet in Autumn, he allows you to lean against him as he wraps his arms around your waist and winnows you away, except for one tiny little shadow that begins heading toward the Night Court.
-
“Fuck, fuck, FUCK!” Azriel is raving mad, having scoured the border for hours for you. “Where the FUCK did he take her?”
His shadow told him everything, how he incapacitated you, tricked you into willingly coming into his court. The shadows even recognized the faebane he made you inhale, however there was something different about this faebane they couldn’t quite figure out.
Azriel and Rhys scoured the location, with Rhys sending word to Cassian and Feyre to come to the rendezvous point.
“Brother-“ Rhys starts, trying to get Azriel to calm down. His anger was radiating off of him and the entire area was pitch black, with his shadows moving erratically.
“Don’t you dare,” Azriel snarls, “you convinced her to come here! You said “oh it’ll be safe! Cassian and Feyre won’t be too far away!” And now she’s gone! Who knows what he wants with her!”
Feyre and Rhys exchange a glance, clearly speaking to each other internally.
“Shut the fuck up! If you’re going to speak, speak out loud for all to hear!” Azriel barks.
Cassian was seriously concerned for his brother- he had never, ever seen him snap like that at anyone, let alone his high lord and high lady.
Feyre and Rhys were just as startled.
“Azriel, we understand, Feyre was in the spring court-“
“It’s not the same, not even one bit.” He bit back, “Feyre chose to go, she didn’t. Feyre is a High Lady, she isn’t. Feyre has tons of training and is powerful enough to hold her own against high lords, she isn’t. She’s with one of the most powerful non-high lord fae in Prythian. She can’t speak to us telekinetically, she has no mating bond to even tell if she’s alive, it is not the same.”
-
It’s been days since you were taken by Eris. All the inner circle can guess is that you’re somewhere in the Autumn Court. Eris covered his tracks well by having you willingly cross the border. Unless they had proof you were in imminent danger or being held against your will, there wasn’t much they could do, but that didn’t mean they stopped trying.
They even began going through the confiscated correspondence Eris tried to start with you, but it was mostly pleasantries, asking after Lucien, and updates on the lady of the autumn court, who you were quite fond of.
Azriel was looking paler than usual due to the loss of his shadows. They were all in the Autumn court, scouring every inch for you. They do as Azriel tells them to, yes, but he’s noticed how much they seem to like you. Some of them won’t come back to him when called, opting instead to play in your hair or ghost along your hands. He sighs at the memory.
Feyre is trying again to tap into your mind, just like she and Rhys have been trying to do the entire week you’ve been gone. Azriel was losing hope. He’d keep searching, he’d never stop searching, but he was losing hope.
Lost in his spiraling thoughts of a life without you in it, he was jolted from them when he heard Feyre gasp. “She let me in,” is all she says. The room has gone deadly quiet. “I’m not sure she knows I’m here, so I’m trying to keep very still.”
-
When you woke up, you were very confused. You must have fallen asleep at some point, the blankets wrapped around your naked body. The room you’re in is gorgeous, with brown walls, an ornately decorated fireplace, and beautiful artwork covering the walls. The door to your room begins to open and you breathe a sigh of relief at the sight of him.
“Hi sweetheart,” the male tells you, “I brought you coffee.”
The smell of the coffee hits you and you reach your hands out for a desperate taste of it.
“What time is it? How late did I sleep in?” You ask, taking a sip from the coffee cup. The notes of pumpkin melting onto your tongue.
“Mid-morning,” he coos, sitting next to you on the bed.
“And why didn’t you wake me?” You ask.
“I figured you deserved all the rest you could get after last night,” he says, placing a hand on your thigh, “and to have you well-rested for today.” He smirks.
You blush, still not used to this directness from him, “don’t you have work today?”
He sighs, “yes, yes, I just figured I’d bid you good morning before I started my day. Besides, I know you’ll be busy wedding planning all day. Wanted to see my beautiful bride at least once today.”
He kisses your temple, leaving you alone in the room, buzzing just thinking about his inevitable return.
-
Feyre didn’t dare broadcast the image to the Inner Circle. At first out of fear of what she might see - if you were being tortured, she didn’t want them to see that, especially not Azriel.
The contents of what she saw were almost more horrifying.
“Eris is playing tricks on her mind. She, uh, -“ Feyre looks around the room, afraid to tell them what she saw, making eye contact with Azriel, ultimately deciding to say something to get him to leave.
“He’s coercing her into marrying him.”
Everyone sits up straighter and chaos erupts. They all start yelling and bickering, trying to figure out what to do.
Rhys commands everyone’s attention, already having spoken with Feyre about getting Azriel out of the room.
“Azriel, see if you can find out anything about an upcoming autumn court wedding. If Eris and Beron are trying to hide this, it might not be known that it’s for a member of the High Lord’s family.”
Azriel leaves, thankful for something, anything, to keep his mind off of you marrying someone else and thankful for a small lead to finding you.
Once Azriel’s gone, Feyre turns to the group. “It gets worse.” She says, looking at Rhys in nervousness.
“How the Hel can it get any worse? Our friend being forced to marry him? What is worse than that?” Cassian asks, absolutely outraged that he let you go to that meeting.
“Eris has glamoured himself, it’s how he’s convinced her to go along with the marriage.” Feyre speaks softly, looking down at the ground.
The silence hangs in the room for a moment, and just when Feyre thought the silence would settle and stay for a while, Mor speaks up, “and who exactly is he glamoured as?”
Everyone in the room knows the answer, but they wait for Feyre’s confirmation.
“He’s glamoured as Azriel. She thinks she’s safe with Azriel in the Autumn Court and that they’re getting married soon.”
750 notes · View notes
thevillainswhore · 11 months
Text
Tension
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Pairing: Massage Therapist!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Word Count: 4.2k
Summary: You’re devastated when your usual massage therapist becomes unavailable at the last minute, but an unexpected trainee is more than happy to handle you.
Warnings: Smut (fing-ering fem receiving, mentions of a-nal play, m-asturbation male receiving)
A/N: Unbeta’d, dividers by saradika and firefly-graphics - also a massive thank you to my babe @rookthorne for helping me edit my header, loves you bitch 💗
Listen, just please use your imaginations with the oil, let’s pretend it’s safe and can be used for… things 👀 okay thank you, enjoy x
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Resting your head against the back of the waiting room leather chair, you await your appointment at your regular spa. Headache already starting to disappear from the eucalyptus aroma of incense seaping into your skin.
You needed this. The long work week draining you of all common sense to not hit your coworkers over their heads every two seconds, due to their incompetence. Now, it has finally come to a close, and you could take the opportunity to indulge in your guilty pleasure.
This was the only way you could continue to keep your head above water. A monthly treat to yourself of a two hour long full body massage - undisturbed peace and soft hands kneading the stress out of your body until it felt like you were floating.
And it was literally heaven on earth to let go of the strong willed nature that came with your work, placing your care into the hands of someone else. Giving up your responsibilities of taking charge and allowing another to take care of you for a little while.
It felt so good to let go. Forgetting all of your worries that seemed silly in the midst of the background waterfall noises that lulled you into calmness.
Jesus, you weren’t even on the massage table yet and you already felt so much lighter.
With that thought, the lovely receptionist, you’ve become familiar with from your numerous visits, walks out from the back room and addresses you with an apologetic expression.
“Miss, I’m so terribly sorry about this, but an unexpected personal emergency has come up for your regular therapist and she’s had to leave before your treatment today.”
Your face drops. The excited anticipation bubbling inside you from at last being able to relax, dying out instantly at her words.
Of course it wasn’t your therapist’s fault that you would miss out on the only pass time that gets you through the month. Of course, it wasn’t her fault you’d probably go home and scream into your pillow. Yet, you couldn’t help your internal frustration at the disappointing outcome.
It didn’t help that you hadn't had an orgasm for god knows how long too. The band inside was you on the verge of snapping. A massage being the only way to soothe the built up tension over the month and you feared you would have a mental breakdown from the added stress.
“Listen, I wouldn’t normally suggest this,” she goes on to explain as you lift your head with intrigue, “but we have a new massage therapist in training, free for your time slot. His clientele base is still quite small. However, he’s received great reviews and he’s happy to cover your treatment today - if that’s something you would consider. Would you like to meet him before coming to a decision?”
Fuck it. It’s either this or try to relieve yourself with your shitty vibrator at home that’ll probably die out before you can finish anyway. And you really didn’t want to make the dent in your bedroom wall any bigger from the other times you’d thrown the useless thing at it.
So, what harm could it do?
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After agreeing to an introduction with the trainee, telling yourself you should at least see if you feel comfortable enough with him, you stand outside the private massage room, waiting to be invited in.
Eventually hearing a breathy shout of “Come in!”, the receptionist opens the door and allows you to step through, the seemingly young man’s back turned towards you as he fiddles with last minute preparations for your massage.
“Just tryna get everythin’ ready for ya, won’ be a minute.”
After finishing up and a final appraisal to the set up, the trainee spins on his fit, claps his hands together and looks at you directly, “Sorry ‘bout that, darlin’! The name's James Barnes, but you can call me Bucky, sweetheart, I’ll be lookin’ after’ya today.”
Holy shit, where the hell did they find this one?
Bucky’s mid length chocolate hair ran rogue with an errand piece falling into his eyes. It took all of your strength to not reach out and tuck it behind his ear, or maybe even scratch your nails through his hair just to grip it and tug to see if he whimpers.
Woah, settle down girl.
A tight white womens beater, stretched across his pecs, showcased his bulging arms and the pure muscle you couldn’t tear your eyes from. You were pretty sure you were drooling, but you couldn’t give a single fuck right now.
If you had to guess, you would have pinned him as a farmhand or a ranch owner from down south before he became a trainee massage therapist - it definitely would have explained his devilishly built form and his southern twang that has your knees weak.
That’s not the only reason I want my legs to be shaking.
It most definitely isn’t difficult to imagine Bucky with a cowboy hat sitting on his head, thick thighs clenching to keep himself steady riding a horse. Or how easy it is to picture him throwing stacks of hay over his shoulders, dirt covering his sweat glistened body as his pure strength gives him no trouble carrying them to the stables.
You don't even realise you still haven’t spoken a word, stood dumbstruck with your mouth gaping open and lost in your unholy thoughts about the living wet dream about to rub you up, completely forgetting another person was in the room with you.
The receptionist speaks up, “Are you comfortable with James stepping in-“
“Yes!”. Your cheeks burn hot with embarrassment from how quickly you answered, clearing your throat and steeling yourself not to continue making an idiot of yourself. “Um- yes of course, yes… not a problem at all.”
You miss Bucky’s sly little smirk as you make the effort to keep your gaze towards the floor, his tongue peaking out and wetting his lips as he gives you a once over.
Things were about to get interesting.
“So sweetheart, I’m gonna step out while you get changed, take all clothin’ off, start off with lyin’ on’ya stomach for me and cover y’lower half with a towel - I’m sure y’know the drill by now.”
Reverting your attention back onto him, your pulse quickens at his nonchalant conversing of stripping naked. Okay, it was standard procedure for the therapist to go over protocol, but that talk from him is sinfully criminal.
Walking up to the door, Bucky suddenly turns around, “Oh and don’t forget to take off the underwear too, darlin’, be back in a tick.” Bucky winks and slaps the doorframe, finally leaving the room.
Fuck my life.
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You have a couple of minutes to compose yourself before Bucky comes back. Changing out of your clothes was almost a relief - sweat clinging to your skin from meeting him and that freaking accent that drove your mind wild. Your panties seemed to agree too, considering the sticky mess that clung to your folds as you pulled them down your legs.
As you now lay face down on the table, folded towel covering your ass - back and legs on display - you anxiously wait for Bucky’s arrival, muscles subtly twitching from either your stress or the need to get fucked.
Probably both.
The door opens to your only knowledge of hearing, sight only focused on the floor from the carved head cushion allowing your face to sit through it. Goosebumps raise on your arms as you listen to the door then quietly close and footsteps get closer towards your direction.
You hold your breath when you see boots stop into your peripheral and legs bend to show a pair of thick thighs straining against the denim of his jeans.
Yep, definitely Bucky.
Lifting your head slightly to look at his face when he doesn’t speak, you choke on your spit when you find him shirtless, stomach marveled with so many abs. You would count, but you’re a little afraid you’ve lost brain cells from his presence alone. And all hope is gone when you see his jeans strung low on his waist - ‘v’ line tantalising your dignity as you wonder how morally wrong it could be to drop to your knees and lick it.
You’re not proud to say you don’t take anything he says in as Bucky begins going through what’s to be expected for your treatment. Ever the professional as you think he probably tells you what to do should you like any adjustments made with his pressure or technique. Luckily, you seem to have gotten away with it as he stands and picks up some oil, tilting your head back down to do some breathing exercises.
“Jus’ the massage today then, sweets? Y’know I wouldn’t mind throwin’ a free facial in there for y’too with the trouble y’had.”
What the fuck?
Your brain short circuits. Surely he must hear what he’s saying out loud… right?
Inwardly shaking your head, you put it down to the lack of intimacy you had gotten recently, mind conjuring illicit fantasies and turning everything he says into something dirty.
You stutter to reply, “N-no, that’s o-okay, just the massage i-is fine.”
The small smile on Bucky’s face is so innocent, like he hasn’t just rebooted your entire being. “Alrightie then darlin’, lemme get started then.”
Guess them breathing exercises went to shit.
Bucky begins slicking his hands up with the massage oil, lathering between his fingers and ensuring all crevices are glistening - especially his veins that bulge all the way up his forearm.
“I’m warnin’ y’though, I’m quite good with my hands.”
You don’t have time to stop yourself blurting the next automatic thought in your head out into the open.
“I bet you are.”
If you could slap yourself you would. Cringing in despair at your ability to make yourself look stupid. You expect things to turn awkward, for Bucky to show unease and even stop the session altogether.
To your surprise, you feel a whisper of a breath caress your neck as he mumbles the very thing to probably cause your death.
“Oh, you have no idea, darlin’.”
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The start of the massage truly had your nerves settling down and calming you enough to actually enjoy yourself. Yeah, you still struggled with keeping your cool with Bucky’s huge hands caressing you with his sensual touch, but you managed to stop your squirming and relax.
Bucky however, couldn’t keep a straight head for the life of him. Softness of your skin and the feel of your curves literally in the palms of his hands had his cock threatening to bust the zipper of his jeans.
Timid little thing you were, so skittish when you saw him and he just had to have a little fun with you. That soon backfired on him the second he got a hold of you. Fingers itching to just smooth down your luscious body and open you up like his own personal present.
Unfortunately, he had to make do with rubbing his erection against the edge of the massage table to give him some relief. You were just so sexy - a stunning face and an amazing figure - never mind how fucking adorably shy you were.
Just my type and I’ll be damned if I don’t get a piece’a ya, sweetheart.
Was it wrong for him to be thinking of a client this way? Of course. Would Bucky most definitely get fired before he’s even completed his training should anyone find out? No doubt about it. Was that going to change his mind over what he was about to do next?
Absolutely fucking not.
You had succeeded in keeping your moans and whimpers locked away when Bucky reached particularly sensitive spots on your back. No, not the ones that felt a little too tender, the places his touch elicited your growing desire - as much as you tried to hide it, he could still hear your little intakes of breaths.
But that’s not what I’m after sweetie, I wanna hear how good I’m makin’ you feel.
So, he comes up with a plan.
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“Oh darlin’, I can feel all those knots in y’upper back, been workin’ so hard ain’t ya, sweets?”
Fuck, you really had. And Bucky’s praise paired with his seductive voice makes you feel all gooey with neediness, trying to stop yourself sinking into your fuzzy headspace as you reply back. “Y-yeah, I mean I guess so.”
“How ‘bout we try somethin’ different, hm?” Bucky begins to explain, “Reckon if we got y’to bend them legs into a kneelin’ position then it’d feel so much better.”
The sincerity of his voice has you rethinking your suspicions towards how exposed you might be. You still had the towel to cover anything private and while your old therapist never suggested anything like this, Bucky may have learned something new and wanted to try it out.
So you begin to do as he’s asked. “Um, l-like this?”
“Tha’s it, arch that back for me, sweetie.” Again, you follow his instructions all too easily. “Little more for me- there ya go, jus’ like that.”
Bucky can’t help the groan that slips out as he observes the thin towel curve over the shape of your ass. You’re not much higher from the first position you were in, but the subtle lift in your legs, and bowed back allows a perfect image for him.
And a perfect chance.
“Gonna work on y’legs now, sweetheart, lemme know if somethin’ ain’t feelin’ good.”
You don’t have a chance to reply as Bucky begins to knead the muscles in your legs. An unrestrained moan escaping from your lips as he uses his thumbs to work the tension out. You feel as though you've been transported to another world, eyes rolling to the back of your head in glorious pleasure.
Meanwhile, Bucky is having the time of his life watching the jiggle of your ass every time he switches up the motion of his strokes. You don’t seem to notice the towel slowly shifting upwards, revealing the bottom of your ass cheeks to him.
He just needs your legs to spread that tiny bit more so he can see your pretty little pussy.
“That feelin’ good for ya, darlin’?”
Apparently, you let go of all inhibitions from the satisfaction Bucky’s hands bring you, all but unbashfully moaning, “Mhmm, god yes Bucky, feels so fuckin’ good.”
That’s what I love to hear.
“Amazin’. Doin’ so great for me sweetheart, jus’ let ya’self relax and Bucky will take care a ya.”
The dip of your back deepens as you unknowingly start to bring your legs more under you, ass canting up like a cat as Bucky’s thumbs rub close to the crevice under your ass cheeks.
He’s so dangerously close to his prize, he can literally see the wetness that’s spilled from your cunt, coating your inner thighs.
Fuck it.
Bracing for the worst, Bucky’s thumb runs over your pussy lips and your breath hitches as the bolt of electricity that shoots through your body. Now fully aware of his intentions, you expect yourself to feel a slither of outrage, some kind of anger at him for letting it go this far and yet you can’t seem to bring yourself to stop him.
Bucky pauses his thumbs in question, waiting to back off as soon as you deny him and allowing you the freedom of consent.
But, you want this.
The fact he stops his ministrations within an inch of your cunt has you unable to hold back your loud whine, ass pushing back into his hold to try and get him to carry on.
As much as Bucky loves your enthusiasm and he’s almost certain you want this as much as he does, he needs to hear your verbal consent in order for him to proceed. “Ah ah, sweet girl, need to know y’want this, need to hear y’say it.”
With great difficulty, fog clouding your head, you manage to mumble a whimper of agreement. “Fuck, y-yes pleaseee Bucky, give it to me.”
And that’s all the confirmation he needs.
Bucky places both thumbs on each cheek and spreads them apart to reveal your pretty, slick pussy, hole pulsing, almost begging to be filled.
You whimper as you feel his long pointer finger slide through the mess you’ve made and teasingly give your throbbing clit a little tap for good measure.
The little shit even has the audacity to chuckle at your desperation.
“Look at ya darlin’, such a fuckin’ good girl for me, ya think we can get y’a little more wet, hm?”.
He laughs at your stutter, no worries for him though, he can’t wait to make sure he leaves your head empty enough for not one single thought to cross your mind.
Bucky gently slaps your leg and bends over you to whisper in your ear, “turn around, pretty girl.”
The last defence of the towel covering your modesty falls from your body as you quickly move to lie on your back, too fucked out to even notice the breeze that hardens your nipples and exposes your tits to Bucky’s gaze.
He could’ve just picked you up and fucked you against the wall right then and there. But Bucky’s a patient man, and he’s not about to put his pleasure before yours. He wants this to last.
Straddling the table as he combs his wild hair back, Bucky grabs your thighs over his forearms with feral need to drag you down towards him, placing your legs over each of his and separating them. This was his personal slice of heaven.
The view of your cunt and the bounce of your tits has him gripping his cock over his jeans, shaky breaths rattling his chest over how turned on he is from the sight - you really were a goddess, a doll for him to play with until you couldn’t walk.
Releasing himself and grabbing the bottle of oil from the table next to him, Bucky looks directly into your eyes, his own hooded as he unscrews the lid. Your high pitched moans and whimpers have his nerves set alight and he can’t wait to see your face as you cum from his fingers alone.
“Buck-Bucky, what a-are you d-doing?”. It takes everything in you to lift yourself on to your elbows, looking down to see him hovering the bottle over your pussy.
“Y’trust me, sweet girl?”. Fuck, with that voice alone you’d put your whole faith in him.
You gently nod as you never take your eyes away from his, that wicked smirk adorning his face as his eyes light up from your answer.
“Good.”
That’s the last thing you hear before you feel the cold splash of oil drip against your pussy and your shocked moan fills the room as your arms give out.
The liquid rolls down your folds, down to your puckered hole and the thought quickly surpasses Bucky of what your reaction would be if he suggested a little anal play.
First things first, Barnes.
Right.
After emptying the remainder of the oil over you, Bucky tosses the bottle onto the floor, and begins to run his fingers over your cunt, shining in all its pleasurable glory. Trailing down to your hole, Bucky begins to press one finger inside you, stopping at the first knuckle only to take it back out and repeat his torturous teasing.
You can’t help your squirming - hands fisted tight in your hair as your toes curl. The relief of a second finger added to the first only lasts for a minute as again, he torments you by going no further than his first knuckles. All you want is for him to slide his fingers as deep as they can go, but Bucky is far too mesmerised with the glisten of his fingers and the feel of your fluttering little pussy.
“W-want more, baby, p-please Bucky, need more.”
The term of endearment as his feasted eyes snap up to look at you, has his cock twitching - you looked so fucking beautiful like this for him and the pleading in your features has him going soft on you.
Always was a sucker for pretty girls begging.
“Need more, sweetheart? Alright pretty girl, y’can have some more.”
You soon figure how Bucky was holding out on you as he fucks you with his two fingers at a quickened pace, the squelch of mixed juices from your cunt loud to your ears and you’d be embarrassed if Bucky didn’t enjoy it.
And he really did, the sound of your arousal leaking out of you because of him leaves him feeling untamed, beastly, as his veins bulge from his arms. His cock is aching, hard from how much he gets off on your pleasure - he knows he can make it better for you, though. He won’t be happy until you lose your voice because of him.
Slowing down, his deep rumble has the knot in your stomach tightening even more, “Think y’can handle another, sweetie? ‘Cause I think y’can, think this wet pussy needs to be filled up till she can’t take no more.”
With that, Bucky eases a third finger along with his other, the stretch just right to have you wailing out with consistent cries of his name.
Curling his fingers against your upper wall, Bucky searches for that spongey rough patch - he wants you to see stars and he isn’t giving up till you do.
“Hold on a sec sweets, lemme just-, find… oh, there it is.”
All of a sudden your back shoots off the table and your scream of pleasure drowns out the sounds of waterfalls in the background.
“Fuck!”
“Tha’s right darlin’, lemme hear y’scream for me.”
You grip his wrist to keep his hand fucking you, his perfect rhythm too good for you to speak something tangible. But you can’t have him changing anything, you need him to keep everything the same, so you can finish.
Bucky still finds it so fucking hot, sweat from exertion gathering on his neck and dripping down his chest. He couldn’t care less, he just wants to see you cum.
He physically has to use his free arm to force your legs open, it won’t do that you’re trying so desperately to close your legs around him. No. He wants to see you tremble in his hold. He’s fucking craving it.
“C’mon baby, know y’so close sweet girl.”
You are so fucking close, so near to that orgasm you haven’t had in so long - you’ve turned dumb, world blurring around you, only important thing in your mind getting to finish.
And you’re done for as soon as Bucky places his thumb on your swollen clit and circles.
“BUCKY!”
He watches as your shrieks fall from your mouth. Tremors rack through your body, legs finally able to close around his hand as tears from the intensity roll down your temples. You’re in your element and he’s never seen sexier in his entire life.
White cream drips from your pussy as Bucky slowly takes his fingers out, not able to help himself as he plays with your folds and starts to fuck your cum back into you.
Soon enough, you begin to calm down, heavy breathing with your occasional whine of overstimulation from his motions blessing his ears.
He leans down to pepper kisses over your heaving stomach and underneath your breasts, other hand stroking over your heated skin and up to your cheek.
“Easy girl, that’s it, deep breaths.”
Bucky continues to talk you down and strokes your sweaty hair back from your face, your eyes closed and mouth open, panting.
He stops his ministrations altogether, but keeps his fingers inside you, his body connected over yours to settle some of his weight on you and bring you back down to earth.
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Giving you a couple of minutes to come down from your fluffy clouds, Bucky analyses all your signals to make sure you’re okay and that you feel safe - and once he completes all his internal checks, he flashes you a dazzling smile.
“So… this may be a bit forward a’me, but what d’ya say I take y’out on a date tomorrow night?”
You chuckle breathlessly at his little joke - as if he didn’t already have his fingers still in your cunt. “Only if you answer my question.” you counter back.
“Sure thing, lil’ darlin’.”
Trying to keep your expression aloof you ask, “What did you do before you started training to be a massage therapist?”
He looks like a little confused puppy as he cocks his head and frowns, but answers anyway with a cheeky squint of his eyes.
“I used to work on my mama’s ranch back home, sweetheart.”
Your head rolls back onto your shoulders as Bucky begins picking up the steady pace of his fingers again, fucked out smile on your face in rememberance to your guesses from earlier.
Fucking knew it.
He may not have the slightest clue what you’re thinking, but he doesn’t have to know as long as he’s the one who’s making you smile like that.
And, he already can’t wait for your next meeting as he unbuttons his jeans and pulls down his zipper to bring his dick out and start fucking his fist while he enjoys the sight of his other hand fucking your cunt.
“Now, we got another hour to make sure ya get what y’paid for darlin’, so hold on tight and enjoy the ride.”
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A/N: who doesn’t love a happy ending, right? 😈
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fireflyinks · 4 days
Note
I have an idea for a request :) 💗 sorry if this is long but what if hamzah did one of the solo out of character podcasts and then he invited y/n but then the sexual/romantic tension between them so they stop filming to do other stuff (can be the deed if you want to take a smut route or just making out or being cuddly for a fluffy route!) or maybe 🫣 they forget about the camera and accidentally capture stuff on camera
special guest
hamzah x afab reader smut
contains : smut, oral sex (both giving and receiving), no p in v, use of y/n, cursing, sort of exhibition (they record themselves but don’t post it), munch!hamzah
a/n : I LOVE THIS SM, munch!hamzah is my new favorite thing to write, i’m obsessed. anon you’re literally a genius. thank you so much for the support on all of my hamzah posts, i love you alllll
∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗
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Hamzah and I had been friends for a couple of years. Both of us had YouTube channels and lived near one another so we would hang often. There was an obvious connection between us, but Hamzah nor I were bold enough to point it out. The two of us simply enjoyed dancing around the face that we obviously had mutual feelings for one another.
I sat on my couch, editing my latest video when I felt my phone buzz beside me. I picked it up, reading “hamzah” spread across my screen and a .5 picture I’d taken of him. I swiped right to answer the call.
“Hello?”
“Hey Y/n. Are you busy?”
I shook my head as if he could see me, “No, what’s up?”
“Well, Martin is busy today and can’t record for our podcast, so I was wondering if you’d want to come record with me. Like a ‘special guest’ type thing?”
I thought for a moment. I hadn’t seen him in a while just because the two of us had busy, and viewers loved it when we made content together. We actually got shipped a lot, but Hamzah always ignored it, and I never brought it up. Part of me was glad that even the fans noticed that there was something between us.
“Yeah, why not? That sounds fun, when do you want me to come over?”
Hamzah took a beat before answering. “You could come over now, and afterwards we could order dinner or something, yeah? You’ll have to come to Martin’s apartment because that’s where we film, it’s not too far from mine. I’ll send you the address.”
“I’m on my way, see ya in a second.”
“Thanks, y/n, drive safe.” He hung up.
My heart fluttered at his last comment.
I went to my room and quickly put on something sort of presentable. The star of my outfit was none other then a small denim miniskirt.
The drive to Martin’s house was only about ten minutes, but it felt like an eternity. I was way more excited about spending time was Hamzah than I should’ve been.
Once I arrived at the apartment, I knocked on the door. I was greeted immediately by Hamzah. I couldn’t help but noticed as he looked me up and down once he’d opened the door, a small grin on his lips.
“Hey!” He said, pulling me into a hug. It surprised me a bit but Hamzah was always very affectionate with me, even as a friend. He’d play with strands of my hair on late nights after filming when we’d sit and talk about pretty much anything, and would always grab my hand when leading me places.
“Hi” I smiled into his shoulder right before he let go.
“I have everything get up in here.” Like clockwork, he took my hand and led me through Martin’s apartment. I looked around, seeing the scenes that had made appearances in many of Hamzah and Martin’s videos.
“So…” He sat down on the couch, motioning for me to sit to his right, “it’s going to real causal, just like it is with Martin. I might ask you a couple questions about your channel, if you want me to.”
I shrugged, “I’m fine with anything, just happy I could help you out.”
Hamzah smiled, handing me Martin’s microphone and looking at the camera. “Well, are you ready?”
I nodded, and he got up and began recording.
“You gotta just sit here for a second awkwardly while the intro music plays.”
A few seconds went by as we tried not to laugh at the silence. I couldn’t help but notice how his eyes flicked down to my thighs, exposed by my mini skirt, every few seconds.
“Hey guys, today I’m here with someone who is not Martin.”
Hamzah motioned to me. I lifted my hand and gave the camera small wave.
“Hi there, I’m y/n.”
“Martin decided to skip recording today to go roller skating with Mandy.”
I giggled, “Well, I think they sort of trapped you into recording without them so you wouldn’t third wheel them for once.”
Hamzah rolled his eyes. We went on and on, talking about how much better I am at rolling skating than Hamzah is, how ice skating isn’t real and it’s all just an illusion because neither of us can even stand up on the ice, and after about 40 minutes, somehow the topic of none other than Ice Spice.
“Munch is an absolute banger, but I’ve never met a dude that actually enjoyed eating it.”
Hamzah furrowed his eyebrows, “Are you serious?”
“Yeah,” I went on, “like most of them do it but they don’t like it, which makes it awkward. Like I’m yet to meet a dude that actually gets pleasure out of it too.”
There was a slight pause in the conversation, and I was scared I had made him uncomfortable.
“You’re talking to one right now.”
My cheeks flushed as his comment sunk it. I couldn’t respond, no words would come out of my mouth.
“Sorry,” he looked at me worried, “I totally just made it awkward.”
“Nah,” I shook my head, desperately. My heart thumped as I looked back at him. Maybe I wasn’t delusional about our obvious connection. Why in the world would he make a comment like that if he didn’t mean it in a flirty manner? “it’s okay, really.”
I couldn’t get the thought out of my head. Hamzah’s mouth on my heat, suckling on it like it was his last meal, rubbing my clit with his thumb. I bit my lip. The way he was looking at me showed that he was possibly imagining it too.
He shifted on the couch, looking at me desperately.
“I could show you, if you want.”
I nodded dumbly.
“Please.”
Hamzah leaned in, slowly pressing his lips onto mine. He slowly worked his mouth on mine, growing more and more passionate.
His mouth moved down my body, trailing down my neck. He paused, slipping my shirt and skirt off my body and taking a moment to stare at my breasts.
“God, you’re so beautiful, you know that?” Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. “I was so distracted, I couldn’t stop staring at you.”
He rubbed my thighs, looking down at them. It’s like he was mesmerized. “These thighs are so pretty. I couldn’t stop imagining them spread for me.”
Hamzah’s boldness surprised me, but I couldn’t say that I didn’t enjoy his praises. No matter how lewd they were.
“Can I take these off?” He curled his index finger into the band of my panties.
“Yes” I breathed out, shyly.
Hamzah chuckled to himself, “You’re so cute.”
He pulled my panties off of me, spreading my legs and looking down at my aching heat. Leaning down, he slowly kissed my core. I whimpered at the feeling.
“Tell me you want it.”
I bit my lip, looking down at him with pleading eyes. “I want it. I want it so fucking bad, Hamzah.”
Without further discussion, he dove down into my aching heat, swirling his tounge through the folds. I took his hat of his head with shaky hands and ran my fingers through his curls.
He looked up at me for a moment.
“Do you feel good?” He said quickly, wasting no time to get back to his meal.
“Yes! Yes! So good.” I moaned, my legs involuntarily closing in on his head. His hands held them back in place, spread wide for him to have the fullest access.
“You taste so damn good.” He groaned out. It was entertaining, watching how much he genuinely enjoyed this. He moved his mouth like it was his last meal. I’d never felt this much pleasure just from being eaten out, and it was so sweet.
My brain felt all fuzzy from the way his tounge worked through the folds of my heat perfectly, finding all of the sensitive places and causing my legs to shake under his hold.
“Fuck- I’m gonna cum.” I threw my head back, pure pleasure filling my head as I let out breathy moans.
“Go ahead, cum for me. Cum in my mouth, baby.”
I let myself release on his tounge, my body writhing against his working mouth.
After a few seconds, he pulled away, looking up at me with hopeful eyes, almost like he’d expected me to have had a bad experience.
I didn’t. I had the complete opposite; I couldn’t stop thinking about Hamzah’s tounge.
“Fucking wow.” Is all I could manage to get out.
“Was it good?” He asked.
“More than good. That was… can I please return the favor?”
Hamzah was quick to shake his head, “You really don’t have to. I know most girls don’t like to, and I don’t expect anything in return.”
I genuinely couldn’t let myself live knowing that I didn’t repay Hamzah back after he had me seeing stars.
“No, please, I really want to.”
I couldn’t lie, I’d imagined Hamzah’s cock plenty of times. I’d wondered how big it was, what it looked like, how it would feel in my mouth, what he was like in bed, pretty much everything. But now that I might finally get it, I felt more giddy than ever.
Hamzah slowly nodded, “Alright, go ahead.”
I reached down to his jeans, unbuttoning them as he helped me pull them off his legs, followed by his boxers. His member slapped his stomach, and it surprised me just how hard he was solely from eating out.
It was… big to say the least.
I slowly bottomed him out in my mouth, gagging slightly. He groaned, keeping his eyes on me. I bobbed my head, feeling him hit the back of my throat over and over again.
“Fuck, y/n, just like that.”
I continued these motions, occasionally pulling him out of my mouth and leaving small kitten licks on the tip. He was fighting the urge to throw his head back into the sofa, continuing to keep his eyes glued to me. He breathed out shaky praises to me.
“You’re so good at this, fuck. I- I’m gonna cum.”
“Cum in my mouth… please.” I begged, sucking his faster.
He moaned before filling my mouth with his loud. I swallowed it all before taking him out of my mouth, looking up at him shyly.
“Fuck… that was amazing.”
I giggled as we looked at each other for a few moments. It was crazy, the very things I’d been fantasizing about coming true, all because of a podcast episode.
Fuck. A podcast episode.
My eyes darted over to the recording camera, my cheeks flushing. Hamzah was still looking at me, almost in a hypnotic state.
“Hamzah…” I tried to grab his attention, he hummed in response. “The camera…”
His eyes widened as he looked over, coming to the same realization that I had.
“Fuck- sorry.” He got up, pulling his boxers on and walking over to the camera. “I’m deleting all the footage. You can check afterwards if you want. Recording us really wasn’t my intention.”
He was panicking, his fingers fumbling with the cameras buttons.
“Hamzah… relax. It’s okay. You- nevermind.”
Hamzah looks over to me, his eyebrows raised in amusement. “I what?”
“You can keep the recording if you want.” It felt so lewd to say, but I meant it. It was sort of hot, knowing he had that footage of us and could watch it anytime.
He smirked, looking down at the camera and nodding. “Alright… I will.”
I blushed, “Now can we get that food that you promised me?”
Hamzah chuckled, grabbing his phone.
It was strange, a couple of seconds ago we were performing such lewd acts for a camera we’d forgot was recording, and now we were arguing about whether we should get chinese or mexican take out.
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works-of-fanfiction · 10 months
Text
The Love of Another - Part Two || Cillian Murphy x actress!Reader
< Previous
Summary: After meeting on the set of Peaky Blinders, Cillian and Y/N struggle to keep their relationship professional.
Warnings: Swearing, cheating, angst. Some (pretty cringe) fluff at the end.
Word Count: 5.7k
 a/n: thank you so much for the lovely feedback on the first part of this! I haven’t written anything multi-part in literal years, but this was fun. some chunky sections of dialogue here, hopefully easy to follow! enjoy x 
(Paul is Paul Anderson and Sophie is Sophie Rundle (if that wasn’t obvious already). Y/N’s character in the show is not canon/replacing any of the actresses, just feel free to use your imagination and slot her in somewhere! it is yourself after all.)
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“Would you rather have Tommy teach you to ride a horse, or Arthur teach you to box?” The interviewer asked, smiling at the actress in front of her. Y/N chewed the inside of her cheek, tapping her knee as she thought about her answer. “That’s a hard one, because both could end up with me on the floor!” She joked, looking past the camera at the crew who were essentially getting paid to laugh at anything she said. “I have to go with Tommy on this one. It’s probably the least dangerous! Plus, who doesn’t love watching Cillian ride those horses?” The two women laughed together before swiftly moving onto the more serious questions about Y/N’s debut in the series. “I’d have gone with Arthur.” Y/N’s husband sneered, lowering the volume on the TV. Behind him she was sat at the table, re-reading the new scripts she’d been sent and familiarising herself with the lines.
“They pay me to say stuff like that, you know.” She declared casually, not bothering to look up from the page. He turned around and watched as she scribbled down some notes, mouthing words to herself quietly.
“They pay you to brown-nose Cillian?” He scoffed, leaning on the back cushion. Dropping her pencil with a sigh, she finally looked up with raised brows.
“Yes. Just like I got paid to brown-nose every other man I’ve worked with.” She quipped sarcastically, rolling her eyes, and twirling the pencil between her fingers. She waited for him to respond, but the snarky comeback never came. A smart choice on his part.
Despite her only having met Cillian once, her husband still had this bizarre idea that they’d spent every waking moment together during filming. Y/N had become too exhausted to argue about it. Her career and her future in Peaky Blinders was a lot more important than her husband’s petty jealousy, and she certainly wasn’t going to throw away the role of a lifetime because of him.
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“Y/N… Your line.” The prompter called, waving the script in the air and tapping the page with her pen.
“Oh, sorry. Can we go from the top?” Y/N asked nervously, looking around at the crew that were becoming increasingly impatient. What was supposed to be a quick and simple scene was turning into an hour of do-overs with Y/N forgetting small details on every take. “I’m really sorry everyone.” She addressed the room, some mumbling back, others just rolling their eyes and whispering among themselves.
Stepping forward off his mark, Cillian turned to the director. “I think we can pick this up next week. Don’t you?” He asked quietly, eyes flitting to Y/N and back again. “Long day…”
“Alright. We’ll set up for this scene first thing Monday morning, but I want it finished and perfect by lunchtime.” He spun in his chair, ordering everyone to go home and rest up on their rare weekend off.
Sighing, Y/N tugged at her hair, freeing it from the clips holding it tightly in place. Paul patted her shoulder sympathetically before leaving set, shaking Cillian’s hand on the way out. Cillian sat down beside her quietly, waiting for everyone else to filter out. Once the room was empty, he scooted closer, slipping his hand in hers beneath the table. “I had it, Cill, I had it.”
“I know.” He soothed, stroking her knuckles with his thumb. “I did it for my sake, not yours. This suit is itching.” He joked lightly, pulling at his collar. Looking up, she felt a smile creeping onto her face. There he was, being cheesy, always trying to cheer her up.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”
“I think the guest in your trailer might have something to do with it.”
Nodding, she looked down at their hands, at Cillian’s gentle fingers dancing along her veins. She thought about her husband; how he’d travelled all this way and spent the entire afternoon waiting for her. Yet here she was, comfortable in the arms of another man, betraying him for the thousandth time.
Cillian could see the cogs turning in her head. Forgetting to blink, she stared down at the tabletop, studying the cracks in the brown paint. He squeezed her hand softly, reminding her he was still there. “What are you thinking?” He whispered.
“I have to tell him, don’t I?” She asked, not really seeking an answer. For months she’d tried to plan a way to tell him, to come out with the truth and end her marriage for good, but she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. It wasn’t something she could do over the phone, but she also couldn’t bear to see him in person. She continued to pretend everything was OK, smiling through their FaceTime calls and sending love hearts whenever she couldn’t answer. ‘Couldn’t’ meaning when she was with Cillian.
“I don’t know how I’m going to do it, or when, or where, but I know I have to. I mean, it’s been a year already, and I think I just lost track of time but then  – “
“Hey, hey.” Cillian grabbed her face gently, putting a pause to her rambling. “You don’t need to go making any grand declarations today.”
“If I leave it any longer, it’ll just make it worse.”
Y/N seemed to stare straight through him, her jaw tensing beneath his fingers. Part of him wished he could fix it for her, that he could go to her husband himself and tell him the truth to save her the burden. He feared how her husband could react, knowing he had a habit of getting jealous and suspicious whenever she got too friendly with a man. He knew he could handle it but wasn’t sure she’d be able to.
“Y/N!” A voice shouted from the entrance; it was Sophie, looking for her so she could drag her to her birthday night out. The pair separated, Cillian standing awkwardly. “There you are. Come with me, I’ve found the perfect dress for you to wear tonight!”
“I’ll leave you ladies to it.” He smiled, giving Y/N one last reassuring smile before leaving the building. The last thing Y/N wanted to do was go out, but she didn’t want the crew hating her even more after her earlier fiasco, so she dragged herself to the wardrobe department and let Sophie show her the dresses they were going to ‘borrow’ for the evening.
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“A vision in red! Happy birthday, sweetheart.” Paul beamed, hugging Y/N tight as she joined the group, her husband in tow. Paul made the effort to greet him - the man lucky enough to steal Y/N’s heart - as he put it. She laughed along, the pang of guilt inside her chest doubling in size. He may’ve had occupancy of her heart once upon a time, but that space had since been filled by someone else, and that someone was currently sat in the corner looking as handsome as ever. Cillian raised his glass to her, smiling, his arm flexing in his t-shirt. She nodded back, the all-too-familiar rush of heat spreading up her neck and to her face.
It was the perfect night for it, considering the football match just a few miles down the road was keeping most of the city occupied for a couple of hours. Everyone chose to pack out the pubs, leaving the majority of the bars fairly empty and ideal for the star-studded crowd to hide out and enjoy their night. It wasn’t often they all stepped out together like this, but birthdays were an exception. 
“Drink?” Y/N’s husband asked, throwing his arm over her shoulder. Leading her to the bar, he gushed about his conversation with the Arthur Shelby, and how much of a nice guy he was. She wondered if he’d speak so highly of Cillian, or if his strange vendetta would get the better of him. “Shots for the birthday girl?”
“Oh, not yet. Let me ease myself in.” She laughed weakly, drumming her fingers on the bar.
“Not even one?”
“Why? Are you trying to get me drunk?” She raised a brow, eliciting a chuckle from him.
“Well, you always were fun after a few drinks…” He purred, leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek. She grimaced at his words, but luckily he didn’t notice as he was too busy waving at the bartender.
He ordered, yelling obnoxiously over the music. Y/N’s eyes wandered across the back of the bar as she absentmindedly bobbed her head to the song playing, mouthing some of the words. “Oh, I’ll get these.” They both turned to see Cillian standing there with his hands tucked into his pockets, a friendly smile on his face.
“It’s alright, mate. I promised I’d get the birthday girl her first drink.” Her husband’s hold on her tightened as he spoke, his fake grin wide enough to blind a man.
Y/N stood there between the two men, her heart pounding as she felt Cillian’s stare on her face. He’d had good intentions coming over, wanting to keep an eye on her, but she wished he’d stayed put at his table. She already struggled to act normal around her husband, and her lover’s presence only made things ten times more difficult.
“Perhaps some shots then? My treat?” Cillian rested his arm on the bar, catching the attention of another bartender.
“She doesn’t want – “
“Shots sound great. Thanks, Cill – ian.” She stuttered, correcting the nickname before her husband noticed. He looked down at his wife, then back at the man beside her who calmly ordered, leaning over the bar so he didn’t have to shout. Funny how she suddenly agreed to shots when he was the one paying…
Cillian passed Y/N and her husband a shot each, and they downed the drinks together. She winced as it burned her throat, sticking out her tongue as she groaned. “Tequila! Are you trying to kill me?” 
The Irishman laughed, nodding a last thank you across the bar. “Happy birthday, Y/N.” He smiled sincerely, giving her arm an affectionate squeeze. He left the bar, rejoining the cast and crew and instantly slotting himself into a conversation. She watched him fondly, almost forgetting about the man stood behind her. Stretching his arm over her shoulder, her husband placed the drink into her hand. 
She turned and took a sip. “Thank you… Wait, you didn’t take your shot?” She asked, pointing at the full glass on the bar. He shook his head, taking a swig of his beer. “Why not?”
Swallowing with a loud ‘ah’, he shrugged, his expression blank. “I figured it was a moment to be shared between the two of you. Here. Why don’t you have mine?” He slid the shot towards her, tapping the rim of the glass twice. “Go on. It’s your birthday after all.” 
“You’ve got some nerve. Can’t you go a day without starting this bloody argument?” She hissed, pushing the shot back to him. Some of it spilt over the edge, leaving a sticky sheen on the bar. “Drink it, and let’s go join my friends.” 
“I wouldn’t drink it if you paid me to.” He leaned down to her level, trying to intimidate her, but it didn’t work. She wasn’t scared of him; she just saw him as a pathetic, jealous little boy. When he behaved like this, it made her wonder why she ever felt bad for cheating on him at all. 
“Fine. You want to be a child? Then two can play that game, babe.” She spat, turning on her heels and heading towards Cillian. She slipped herself into the group between him and Sophie, linking arms with the woman on her left. “Which one of you is going to dance with me?” 
“I thought you’d never ask!” Sophie squealed, taking Y/N’s drink. “Look after this, will you?” Thrusting it into Cillian’s free hand, she then dragged Y/N into the nearest space, throwing her arms in the air and whooping to the music. They joined hands and spun around like two girls in a playground, shouting the wrong lyrics to the song and giggling uncontrollably. 
Y/N twirled around and set her sights on Cillian, beckoning him over with her finger. “I’m not dancing!” He laughed over the music, keeping a firm grip on their drinks. “I’m guarding your drink!” 
“No, go on. It’s her birthday.” Her husband goaded, appearing behind Cillian. Y/N frowned as she watched the two men speak, unable to hear what they were saying. Sophie grabbed her and spun her around, putting her back to them.
“Shouldn’t it be you dancing with her?” Cillian asked innocently, gently placing the drinks on the table. 
“Oh… I don’t think she’s my friend at the moment.” 
Watching his wife dance, he got the sense he was losing her; that she was slipping away from him and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He’d noticed how Cillian watched her, that lovesick puppy dog smile pasted on his face and eyes following her every move. He had attended many an event with her past co-stars, and none of them had ever looked at her like that. To him, Cillian was showing off, gloating that he’d lured his wife away from him. He wanted to wipe the shit-eating grin off his face if it was the last thing he ever did.
Y/N stumbled out of Sophie’s grasp, dizzily making her way back to the table. “Everything alright?” She asked, out of breath and reaching for her drink. “It’s a workout dancing with her.” 
“Don’t you worry, love. Everything’s fine. I was just talking to Cillian here about you. About the two of you, I mean.” Sniggering behind his glass, he gulped down the remainder of his beer and wiped his mouth, clearing his throat. Cillian’s face contorted in confusion, his fingers gripping the edge of the table, toes curling inside his shoes out of frustration.
“What’s he said to you?” She asked, directing her question to Cillian. He opened his mouth to speak, only to be rudely interrupted. 
“So quick to jump to his defence.” 
“We’re not doing this here.” Y/N snapped, dropping her glass with a thud. “You are not showing me up in front of my colleagues, my friends.” 
“Pick a place then, love. It won’t make a fucking difference.” Her husband could be nasty when need be, but she wasn’t about to stand and take it, especially not with an audience. 
“Right - “ Cillian started, cut off by Y/N barging past them both and towards the doors. This caught the attention of her cast mates, which Cillian quickly fed a lie to before speeding after her. 
He found her outside, stood against the wall and hunched over, hands clutching her knees. “Y/N, I’m so sor - “ 
“Cillian, don’t you dare apologise for his behaviour. Do you hear me?” Her voice shook as she spoke, the sudden rush of anger overwhelming her. She slid down the wall, sitting on the pavement, her exposed shoulders flat against the cold bricks. “Who does he think he is? Acting like that in front of everyone? I could lose my fucking job.” 
“You wouldn’t lose - “ 
“Yes, Cillian. I would. If the studio… If the writers found out about this - “ 
“They won’t.” He asserted, kneeling down so they were on the same level. “They won’t.” 
She took a few deep breaths, Cillian’s presence calming her down as he crouched opposite her, his fingers resting lightly on her knees. “You know, for months I have felt like the worst human being in the world. Looking at myself in the mirror and seeing the cheat staring back, the lousy fucking cheat.” 
“So, you’re not perfect. You’ve done some, admittedly not great things, but I don’t think anyone in there would blame you.” 
“Somehow I don’t think they’d praise me for fucking my co-star behind my husband’s back.” She scoffed, rolling her eyes and rubbing her temple with her fingertips. “God, I’m sorry, Cillian. I’m not trying to… You’re so much more than that, I – “
“It’s alright. You’re upset… And I can handle whatever you throw at me.” He joked, reaching out to pinch her chin.
Hearing the doors swing open, the two flinched, Cillian rising from the ground instinctively. “Well, isn’t this cosy?” Y/N’s husband drawled, sauntering towards them. “So… I was right, yeah? You and him?” He pointed between them, his words directed at Y/N.
“Please…”
“Just answer me. Put me out of my God damn misery.” He threw his arms in the air in defeat, letting them fall to his sides, hitting his thighs with a loud slap.
Pressing her palms against the ground, Y/N pushed herself up, adjusting her dress as she steadied her feet. She approached her husband, and Cillian put his arm out to try and hold her back. “It’s OK, Cill.” She stood looking up at the man she once loved, her hands balled into fists at her side, thumbs picking at the fabric clinging to her legs. “You’re right. You figured it out.”
He exhaled a laugh, kissing his teeth. “I knew it.” Turning away, he ran his hands through his hair, looking up to the sky and sighing deeply. “How long?” He looked back, hands on his hips and brows furrowed. “Y/N, how long?”
“Since my twenty-ninth birthday…” She said shyly, realising just how much worse that made everything look. It had been exactly a year, pretty much to the hour, that she’d shared the first kiss with Cillian that started it all.
“You’ve got to be kidding me. Well, I am sorry for interrupting your little anniversary night…” Exasperated, he took a deep breath and exhaled the air with puffed cheeks. “You know what? You are not the woman I married.” He pointed his finger in her face, but she didn’t react. Folding her arms over her chest, she stepped back until she felt Cillian against her, his hands supporting her upper arms. He whispered comforting words into her ear and her eyes began to water as she continued to stare at her husband, distant and unblinking.
Silence fell upon them, and Y/N expected more to be said, but was surprised to witness her husband turn and walk away. Anything else he had left to say was muttered under his breath as he disappeared around the corner. She and Cillian waited a few seconds to see if he would come back, but the street stayed unusually empty and quiet. “It’s alright. He’s gone.” Cillian whispered, and she spun in his arms, clinging onto him desperately.
Her thoughts felt like they were drowning in a whirlpool, like she couldn’t take control of them no matter how hard she tried. The heaviness in her heart had dissipated, but the ache in her stomach and throbbing in her head persisted. “Can we get out of here, please?” She begged, her head buried in Cillian’s chest.
“Shall I tell the others we’re leaving?”
“Just leave it. Please, can we just go?” Her voice cracked as her hold on him tightened, pieces of his shirt screwed up between her fingers.
“Alright. Let’s go.”
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Lying on the bed, Y/N stared at the ceiling, her fingers ghosting over Cillian’s as he laid beside her. A strange mixture of relief and dread washed over her body, making her feel weak yet incredibly alive at the same time. She wanted to jump up and down, to declare her feelings for Cillian from the highest rooftop she could find. However, another part of her wanted to hide, to burrow under the covers like a scared child until it was safe to come out. She was too afraid to check her phone; it was probably already blowing up with messages from her family and friends.
How could you? 
Who was there for you when you were starting out? Did the fame get to your head? 
He’s heartbroken! You should be ashamed. 
The mere thought of it all made her head spin, and it was far easier to leave her phone on do not disturb and pretend no one else existed for a moment. Her thoughts felt so loud, and she wondered if they both held their breaths for a moment, would Cillian be able to hear the gears twisting and turning inside her brain? Or the steam coming out of her ears? 
“Some birthday this was.” She sighed, closing her eyes and shaking her head. “Am I supposed to feel bad? Like… Is this the point where I’m supposed to cry and scream about how terrible of a person I am?” 
“You can if you want to.” Cillian turned his head to the left, and she looked over at the same time, their eyes meeting in the middle.
“No… I mean, it’s not that I don’t want to. I just can’t. I don’t feel bad, not anymore. Is that horrible?” 
“How do you feel?” 
This was a new feeling for Y/N, for the both of them in fact. Throughout their relationship they’d spoken about everything from their favourite albums to their very particular pet peeves. They’d even spent a whole night debating the existence of aliens, sitting out on the balcony of a hotel room and bickering with each other beneath the stars. The thing they hadn’t really spoken about were their feelings, including their feelings for each other. Those three fateful words were still dangling from the tip of Cillian’s tongue, and there was so much Y/N wanted to say in return.
“I feel… Relieved. I feel free.” Clasping her hands together, she tucked them under her head. “That’s awful to admit, isn’t it?” 
“It’s better than pretending.” He rubbed her shoulder soothingly, his thumb slipping beneath the strap of her dress. “Paul was right, you are a vision in red.” 
Y/N giggled, swatting his hand away and adjusting the strap. “You are such a flirt!” 
They stayed looking at each other, studying each other’s faces as if there was something new to see. Y/N counted the little flecks in Cillian’s bright blue eyes, watching his pupils twitch and change sizes with every few blinks. He added up the freckles on her face, imagining how they’d look if they were connected like tiny constellations across her cheeks. He smiled to himself, his tongue poking out to swipe across his bottom lip. “What?” She asked, eyes squinting with playful suspicion. 
“Nothing. It’s nothing.” His voice was gentle and quiet, barely reaching above a whisper. It wasn’t necessary in the room they were in. Not a single sound could be heard around them, except for their breathing and bodies shuffling against the sheets. He swallowed his words, assuming that perhaps she wasn’t ready to hear them. It had only been an hour since she confessed to her husband in the street, and he didn’t want to overwhelm her with a big declaration of love. He’d know when the time was right, he was sure of it.
Rolling off the bed, Y/N pressed a kiss to Cillian’s forehead and went to take a shower. Whilst she was gone, he looked around the bedroom, spotting various bits of his belongings scattered from the many times he’d stayed over. Filming for the series was almost complete, and it would soon be time for them to pack up their rentals and head home, wherever that may be. He thought about how things might change now that they technically didn’t have to sneak around anymore. Would people start to notice? Would they be victims of some derogatory Daily Mail headline by morning? 
Returning in a towel, Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, combing through her damp hair in the mirror. Cillian knelt behind her, balancing on the mattress as he ducked his head down to press a soft kiss to her shoulder. “I’m sorry you didn’t get the birthday you deserve.” He murmured against her skin. She closed her eyes and hummed, enjoying the feeling of his lips moving across her shoulder blade. 
“I think it was exactly what I deserved.” She whispered, turning her head to catch a glimpse of him. Resting his chin on her shoulder, he gazed up at her through his lashes. 
“There’s still just under two hours left of it. Do you think we can turn it around?”
“What do you suggest?” 
Cillian scrambled to his feet, hitting the carpet with a clumsy thud. Clicking his fingers, he pointed to Y/N, a goofy smile on his face. “You still have that wine in the fridge?” 
“You really trust me to drink wine after last time?” She raised a brow then mimed throwing up, clutching her stomach with her arm. “After last time…” She fake gagged, making him grimace.
“OK, OK! Bad idea!” 
He stood with one hand on his hip, the other raking through his hair. Cocking her head to the side, Y/N admired the view in front of her, pinching her bottom lip with her teeth. There was something oddly appealing about Cillian in regular clothes with the signature Tommy Shelby haircut. He wore a crisp white t-shirt with dark jeans, which just happened to be one of her favourite looks on him. It was simple, yet he somehow made it the most attractive thing she’d ever laid eyes on. Her eyes followed the trail of his veins down his forearm, where they reached the hand that sat just above his waistband.
“I’m gonna be honest, that was my only idea.” He laughed, resting his cheek in his hand. 
“Cillian…” She said softly, shuffling to the edge of the mattress. “Come here.”
As he approached, she parted her legs, giving him enough room to stand between them. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he looked down, his eyes meeting hers. She looked so beautiful like this; just wearing a towel with unruly wet strands of hair stuck to the sides of her face. Her cheeks blushed a light pink, decorated in a couple of stray droplets of water from the shower. 
“Closer.” She whispered, reaching up to grab his shirt. He lifted his knee and rested it on the mattress beside her, using his hands as support as he hovered over her, lowering her until she was laid on her back. 
“Is this close enough?” He breathed, his palms flat on either side of her head. 
“Almost…” 
He lowered himself further as if he was performing a press-up, using the strength in his wrists to steady himself above her. “This will do.” She smiled, bringing her lips to meet his. 
Dropping to his elbows, Cillian weaved his hands into her hair, tugging gently at the root. She moaned softly into his mouth, arching her back to inch herself closer to him and press their chests together. He groaned, a shiver coursing through his body as the towel around her dampened his shirt. 
Pulling away from the kiss, they each opened their eyes and gazed at the other, panting quietly with heat-flushed cheeks and swollen lips. Their faces were just close enough to still be able to see one another properly without their vision blurring. Y/N sighed, her forefinger tracing the curve of his cheekbone. “Are you OK?” Cillian asked, running the pad of his thumb along her bottom lip. 
“Yeah, I just…” She couldn’t concentrate with his fingers under her chin, featherlight and careful across her skin. Blinking slowly, she relaxed into his touch, relishing in the feeling of the goosebumps that prickled her cheeks. 
“We can stop if you want.” 
“No, no. That’s not what I want. Quite the opposite, actually.” Her words weren’t exactly a lie, but they didn’t seem to match the look on her face.
Worried, he flipped onto his side and laid next to her, his right hand finding a loose piece of thread hanging from the towel and twisting it around his finger. “If you need a bit of space for a while – “
“No, Cillian. Please don’t say that.”
“Alright, I’m sorry…”
“I just don’t know what happens next. Am I supposed to announce it to everyone? Do I file for divorce on Monday? How does this all work?” She laughed slightly, mostly at herself for being so clueless. “I think telling everyone my marriage is over will be the easy part. How do I tell them about us?”
“Well, the divorce stuff can wait for a bit. You don’t need to rush into anything.” He patted the bed, searching for her hand. She turned her palm upwards, letting his slide over the top and their fingers entwine. “As for telling anyone…”
“What?” She rolled onto her side, mirroring his position. “Do you think we should tell people?”
“I was going to say, is there really any need in telling anyone yet? I mean, we’ve kept it between the two of us for this long already and – “
“Yes, but that was because we didn’t have a choice.”
“I know... but just think about it. I think it would be weirder if we charged into work next week and announced it to everyone.”
She stared at a crease in Cillian’s shirt, daydreaming about how things were going to be. He was right. They didn’t need to shout about it, and Y/N certainly didn’t want to draw any attention to herself just yet. She already knew what people were going to think of her and label her as, and she wanted to delay the backlash for as long as possible; whether her husband was going to allow that was another story…
Cillian opened his arms for her, scooting higher onto the bed so his feet were no longer dangling off the edge. She followed, snuggling into him and tangling her legs with his. The silence between them was heavy, like there were a million words going unsaid. Y/N knew that Cillian was everything she wanted, but a small part of her worried about what would happen to her husband. Being married to someone for four years was going to leave a stamp on her forever, but she sincerely hoped he’d be OK, and that he wouldn’t try to inflict a war on her and Cillian. She knew in time that things would smooth themselves out and feel normal, but for now, she was content to sit in her little confusing bubble, just as long as Cillian was in it with her.
“Cill?”
“Mhm?”
“When we met earlier in wardrobe, and I spotted that box, what was in it?” She smiled sweetly, batting her eyelashes.
“You really wanna know?” She nodded. “OK… Well, that box wasn’t actually for you.”
“What?”
“I don’t know what was in it! It was already there.”
“Cillian!” She slapped his chest playfully and he huffed, feigning hurt. “Why did you say it was for me?”
“Technically, I didn’t! You just assumed.” He laughed, watching her cheeks redden and brows knit together. “Don’t look so disappointed! Listen, I’ll make it up to you tomorrow when I give, or rather take you to your real present.”
“Now I’m intrigued.”
“That’s all I’m saying! I’m not going to spoil it.”
“Fine…” He hugged her tightly, inhaling the scent of her shampoo. She listened to his heartbeat, counting the thumps in sets of eight. Looking up from his chest, she was surprised to see him already looking at her. “What about my other present?” She whispered.
“What do you – Oh, right. That.”
She sat up, kneeling beside him so she could see him better. He rotated onto his back, folding his arms across his chest, and tucking his hands under his arms. “Y/N – “
“No, wait!” She turned her head, fixing her messy hair and readjusting the towel around her body. Turning back with a flip of her hair and a dramatic flailing of her arms, she gestured for him to sit up.
“What are you doing?”
Awkwardly crawling closer on her knees, she ran the back of her hand over his cheek, leaving it to rest below his jaw. “Cillian.”
“Y/N.” He chuckled, and she immediately hushed him. She tried her best to be serious, but laughter threatened to burst out of her. “Whatever you’re doing, please get on with it because you’re freaking me ou – “
“Here it comes…” She spoke in her best attempt at an Irish accent, cringing at herself.
“Oh for Christ’s sake.” He threw his head back, belly laughing, and she grabbed him by his shirt to pull him back. Composing himself, he bit his cheeks to refrain from laughing any more. “Sorry… Go on.”
“I love you.”
He was silent, staring at her as he ran his fingers along his upper lip nervously. He knew it was coming, yet it still caught him by surprise, hearing those words come out of her mouth. He’d heard her say them plenty of times when they were in character, but this was different. They sounded so sweet when they finally meant something, and feeling her eyes on him made his heart pound in his chest. “Too cheesy?” Y/N asked, dropping the terrible accent.
“Cheesy, but I liked it.”
Sitting down cross-legged, she reached her hand out for him which he gladly took. He kissed her knuckles softly, keeping his lips there as he looked up at her. “I love you too.” He confessed. Both their bodies seemed to slump as if a weight they’d been carrying had been lifted, and despite everything that had happened, or rather gone wrong, that night, this moment felt right.  He kissed her again, before slotting his fingers between hers and giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “And we’re going to be OK.”
443 notes · View notes
siriusleee · 6 months
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For @glitterypirateduck Call of Duty Christmas Special. Author's Note: For the holiday season, I wanted to write some things for some of my mutuals I've met the past year I've had my blog. This is for @gazs-blue-hat, who is one of the most supportive people I've ever met. Christmas Song: Last Christmas Premise: You need a date for your family's Christmas dinner. Johnny is willing to be it.
This is stupid. The dumbest idea you’d had in ages, but the thought of going home this Christmas to see your sister snuggled up on the couch with her long-term boyfriend while your mother regulated you to helping in the kitchen was enough to make you do something stupid. 
It had started with a Facebook post someone else made as a joke. “$100 bucks and I’ll go to your family Christmas and pretend to be your boyfriend. $150 and I’ll kiss you in front of everyone and compliment your mom.” You’d sent a screenshot to Johnny, something quick, hoping he’d send a joke to make you feel better about the upcoming shit show.
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Christmas exploded around town - lights dripping from each tree, fake Santa’s climbing up trellises. And with it, your mood turned blacker each day. It seemed like every minute someone was messaging you for something new: don’t forget to dress up for the family Christmas photo, bring rolls, are you bringing anyone?, are you bringing anyone?, are you bringing anyone?.
The lowest moment was a phone call from your sister’s boyfriend. You answered the call at your desk, phone sandwiched between your shoulder and ear.
“What’s up?”
“Hey, I was wondering what your ring size is.”
Your fingers slow on your keyboard; through the speaker, you can hear the hustle and bustle of some shop. 
“I wear a size 8. Why?”
Silence. And then -
“I’m going to ask your sister to marry me at Christmas this year, and I know you guys are the same size. Don’t tell anyone?”
You had always liked your sister’s boyfriend, but at that moment you could have strangled him. Annoyed, you’d shoved yourself back from your desk, muttering something about taking a break. You slammed your phone down so hard, you were relatively sure that there was going to be a crack in the screen, but you were too bummed out to worry about it. 
Johnny found you at your post outside, an unlit cigarette held loosely in your fingers. 
“I thought you quit smoking, bird.”
His breath clouds around him, and he sits close enough to you that his knee rubs against yours. 
“I did. That’s why I’m just holding it.”
He winces at the tone in your voice, hand coming up to rest itself above his heart in mock hurt.
“Who pissed in your Wheaties this morning?”
“Bug off Johnny.”
He knocks his knee into yours, hands tucked beneath his armpits to keep warm.
“Christmas dinner?”
Your shoes tap a maniacal pattern onto the concrete as you try to figure out how to say it all, without sounding so horrible.
“My sister’s boyfriend is going to ask her to marry her on Christmas.”
Johnny ‘hmms’, chewing on his chapped lips.
“You can always pay me like you said the other day.”
“Shut up Johnny.”
Three days later, after all the non-essentials had been sent home for Christmas dinner your phone buzzed; you glanced down at the screen from your perch on the couch, half expecting it to be another annoying family member. 
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Your fingers tapped against the screen, trying to figure out a way to tell Johnny to knock it off, the joke’s not funny anymore. Instead, you find yourself tapping out the time and your address.
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Smoothing the wrinkles from your skirt, you start to think that maybe Johnny was just screwing with you - that this is all some elaborate joke and you’ll have to do this all by yourself. Maybe Johnny’ll laugh about it when the two of you return to work in a few days, maybe-
A tentative knock on your front door breaks you from your near spiral. Before you can talk yourself out of the entire thing, you fling the door open. Johnny stands grinning at you, hands tucked into the pockets of his dark jeans. His mohawk is freshly touched up, and whatever cologne he put on rolls off of him in hypnotic waves. 
“You look nice,” you say, words falling flat and lame between the two of you. But Johnny doesn’t seem to mind as he holds his arm out to you. 
“You look nice too, birdie. You ready?”
Johnny opens the car door for you. You take the moment it takes for him to walk around to his door to peer at the inside of the car - fresh vacuum lines cover the floorboard, and a new Wintergreen scented tree hangs from the review mirror.
“So,” Johnny says, climbing into the driver's seat, “tell me everything I need to know.”
You describe everyone on the drive there: your Aunt Mary, your Uncle Gary, your cousin with the glass eye who gets upset if you stare too long; your sister and her boyfriend. You point out each turn for Johnny, and with each turn of the wheel, your mood grows brighter. 
Until Johnny pulls into your parent’s driveway, right behind your sister’s car. 
“Alright, Bonnie?”
“Yeah, let’s just do this.”
You don’t get to open your door before Johnny hops out, pulling your door open and holding out his hand for you. 
The front door opens to an explosion of people and Christmas music. Johnny is immediately taken in by your aunts, and he suffers through the pinched cheeks, and he doesn’t mind when your grandma kisses him on the cheek. By the time he makes it back around to you, there’s lipstick smudged on his cheek.
“They love you, Johnny,” you say, reaching up to wipe the red smudge away. “I’ll have to pay you extra I think.”
“You think they’ll let me take an extra plate home as a tip?”
“Of course they will.”
The two of you hide out in the corner, watching the little kids run around with their new toys; one of the boys shoves a Nerf gun into Johnny’s hand, and you see a flash of fear cross all the kid's face when Johnny racks it with extreme precision, but Johnny still lets all of them tackle him.
Your sister and her boyfriend stand on the opposite side of the room, refusing to take their hands off of each other. You do your best to ignore them, but there’s a clock inside you, ticking down the minutes until you know he’s going to drop down on one knee. 
After Johnny fights off all the kids and returns to you, red from laughter, you don’t stop him when he grabs you around the hips, pulling you into the dining room with him. You hear the titter of your mom and aunt as they fawn over Johnny behind the two of you. 
You almost pull away from him, until he stops you in the hallway, pointing upwards to where your mom tacked mistletoe on the ceiling. You feel the blush creep up your neck, and try to send him a message that this is way out of the agreement for the night. When he kisses you chastely on the lips, you don’t say anything, but you can feel the huge grin on your face. 
He rests his hand on your knee throughout dinner and listens intently when your grandfather talks about his days in the War. 
It’s more than you could have asked for. And after dinner, when all the adults start handing presents over to each other, you know it’s about to happen. You see your sister’s boyfriend fidget with something in his pocket, and your stomach twists. You try to focus on the music pouring in a little too loud from the speakers, the Wham! version of Last Christmas, but you can’t take your eyes off the two of them.
Johnny’s hand taps against your elbow, pulling your attention away from what’s going to be the end game of the night. He’s holding out a little box towards you, wrapped haphazardly. 
“Oh Johnny, you shouldn’t. I didn’t get you anything.”
His grin is crooked as he shoves it into your hands. 
“I didn’t ask you to get me anything, birdie. Anyway, it’s part of the pretending, isn’t it? Besides you can get me on my birthday.”
You unwrap the box, fingers sliding beneath the too much tape, to rip the paper away until it falls to the floor and all you’re left with is a black velvet box.
“Johnny this is not funny, you jerk.”
His grin is infectious as you open it up, a little silver pendant sits nestled in the velvet, an ‘S’ charm attached the the chain. 
“Can I?” Johnny asks, and you nod, holding the box out so that he can take the necklace out. 
He puts it around your neck, calloused fingers soft against your skin as he does the clasp. 
The room explodes in cheers around you; out of the corner of your eye you can see your now future-brother-in-law on his knee in front of your sister, but you stare at Johnny instead. 
The last lines of Last Christmas fade from the speakers, Johnny’s hand interlaces with your own and he tugs you closer. 
“I think I want to do this next year.”
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writing-blog-iguess · 11 months
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Online Matchup 2
Summery: Y/n gets sick and gets a surprise. Too bad they're a little out of it, otherwise they would see it.
Warning: teasing, fluff, swearing, mistakes
a/n: I tried something new, with the sections Jason's pov and readers. Let me know if you like it. Otherwise, enjoy!
Words: 2174
ao3 Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
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September 29
Y/N: (3:04 am) Do you think if they didn’t kill Eddie that Steddie would be a thing?
Jason: (3:04 am) Why the ever loving fuck are you awake at three in the morning?
Y/N: (3:04 am) College student
Jason: Aside from that?
Y/N: Sick
Jason: You seemed fine a few days ago
Y/N: A lot can happen as time passes Also, it’s the season where the weather doesn’t make up its mind and it’s cold the one day and warm the next day
Jason: All true all true And it doesn’t help that mr freeze attacked the university the day either
Y/N: I hate the fact that we’ve known each other for like a day, talked for hours And you can read me
Jason: I am a man of many talents I also read the news Though one can say the same for you
Y/N: Ew, who reads the news? I’ll give you that
Jason: I do thank you very much So is it the flu or just a cold
Y/N: Can’t tell But my body feels like it’s been hit by a truck I can’t breathe and I’ve been throwing up a storm I want to die
Jason: Can’t be that bad
Y/N: I’ve been sick for the past three days, I haven’t been school and the only time I’ve left my bed was to throw up It’s that bad
Jason: That sounds like a flu Have you eaten anything? Taken anything?
Y/N: I’ve eaten some crackers, can’t really stomach anything else
Jason: Would you mind giving me your address
Y/N: Sir, I did not message you for a booty call I am a lady of the highest regards
Jason: You’re funny when your sick I was gonna send you some soup that I have when I’m sick But if your gonna be like that, then never mind 
Y/N: … Chicken noodle?
Jason: Only the very best
Y/N: I’m sorry, I’ll give it to you if you give me your number
Jason: Bold words coming from a lady
Y/N: Wow
Jason: You said it
Y/N: I’ve changed my mind
Jason: No you haven’t
Y/N: You're not a mind reader, are you?
Jason: No, but it’s soup and you're sick, are you really gonna say no to free soup?
Y/N: …. I am not
After saving Jason’s number to your phone, and confirming that it was actually Jason, you sent him your address. Tossing your phone to the side, you snuggled into your blankets and fell asleep.
A few hours later, a knock at the door is what wakes you from your nap. Blinking away the sleep, you look around confused on why you’re sleeping on the couch. Stretching, you grab your phone to see that soup is gonna be on the way soon.
At another knock, you slowly get up from the couch and grab your wallet and a mask. After putting it on, you open the door. “Sorry. I am a little disoriented.”
“No worries,” the food delivery person said, handing the bag to you. Taking it, you set it aside before opening your wallet.
“How much do I own you?” you asked, and he shook his head.
“There’s no need for it, it was already paid for,” he answered. You looked up and squinted at him as a sense of familiarity hit you.
“Are you sure?” He nodded and sent you a smile. Sighing in defeat, you let your arms drop. “Alright if you’re sure.” And before he can leave, you're quick to add on, “do I know you from somewhere? You seem familiar.”
“Don’t think I could forget a pretty face like yours,” he said, adjusting his hat down a little. Any other day, you would have scoffed and shut the door. But today wasn’t any other day, and you were sick, and that meant your face bloomed like a tomato.
“Aren’t you a charmer,” you managed out, and he smiled as if you said something funny. “Well, um, thank you for the soup. I’ll let you get back to your night.”
“Hope you feel better,” he said, tipping his hat and leaving before you could say anything back. You peaked out and watched him leave before closing the door.
You stared at the soup for a bit, feeling warm for a different reason. Blinking away the warm feeling, you went about and poured yourself a bowl of soup. Once the bowl was finished, you washed up and went back to bed, hoping to sleep off the rest of the flu.
Jason 7:30am: Did the soup make it okay? How are you feeling? Okay, I’m going to take the silence that your sleeping Will be check in later 
Jason: Okay, it’s been twelve hours birdie, should I be worried?
Y/N 2:30pm: Holy FUCK What was in that soup?
Jason I take it you’re feeling better
Y/N: Sooooo much I feel like a new person Imma needs that restaurant name. I bet they have good food
Jason: The best But I’m afraid I will not be sharing that information
Y/N: Boooooo
Jason: Where have you been anyways?
Y/n: Sleeping I woke up maybe once or twice to go to the bathroom I’m sore now though, so I’ve been walking around What was in that soup?
Jason: Chicken, spices, water I don’t know, whatever else is in the soup
Y/n: Well it was good soup Compliments to the chief
Jason: Lol I’ll let him know
Y/n: Or I could do it 
Jason: I will not be giving you the restaurants name
Y/n: Boooo
Jason (11:30pm) How does one kill someone and make it look like an accident?
Y/N: Depends If in hospital, inject air in the iv heart attack 
Jason: That wasn’t meant for you
Y/N: If not, still inject air and it’ll still look like a heart attack You just have to hope the M.E doesn’t look for the injection sight. Well, you could always burn that part but I think that’s just a dead give away Hide it in a tattoo, should work Maybe
Jason: The way you didn’t have to think about that should have me worried 
Y/n: Who was it meant for then?
Jason: My brothers
Y/N: I should be worried that you have conversations like these with them But somehow I’m not surprised 
Jason: Excuse me?
Y/N: You’re excuse
Jason: Funny Why do you even know that anyways?
Y/N: Don’t worry about it
Jason: Now I’m going to worry about it
Y/N: But you don’t need too
Jason: Mm, still gonna worry
Y/N: If you say so Man, how out of it was I?
Jason: Don’t know, you seemed coherent enough when we talked Although you did say you weren’t a booty call type of women
Y/N: I’m not But while talking to you, I must have felt a little better Because these emails are not it Prof, am sick, no school. Nobody yours, y/n
Jason: That was beautiful 
Y/n: And all they said was to get better before coming back to class I don’t think I could ever show my face there again
Jason: I’m sure they’ve had plenty of emails like that before
Y/n: Even still
Jason: They won’t care You need to go to class if you want to graduate 
Y/n: I hate that your right
Jason: Always am
Y/n: We’ll see about that
Jason: How are you feeling now?
Y/n: Better I think the worst of it is over Had a shower and eat something that wasn’t soup so things are looking up Not ready to run a marathon but ready enough to tackle the homework that I missed
Jason: That’s good Where were you when the mr freeze attacked anyways?
Y/n: Library The fucking library! Nowhere near the science building! But some asshole decided to bring the fight away from the science building Which I get, can’t really fight around all the chemicals it has But why did they have to move it towards the library Whenever I find the person who’s idea that was its on sight
Jason: Why didn’t you run away?
Y/N: I dunno Maybe because I needed to finish the project that was due the next day But to be fair, I wasn’t the only one who didn’t run away either Like the majority of the students stayed to either watch or finish their homework
Jason: College students are a different bread
Y/N: Death means nothing when your homework is half your grade
Jason: You’re all bark and no play, aren’t you?
Y/n: Only when there’s consent
Jason: Good to know 
“You aren’t supposed to be on your phone when on patrol, Todd,” Robin reminded, annoyed. Jason made a face behind his mask, but kept his attention on his phone.
“I think I’m free to do whatever I want,” he said, snorting at the oncoming messages you had sent about wanting to fight the person who thought it was a great idea to lead Mr. Freeze away from the science building and towards the library. He had half a mind to tell you it was Nightwing, only for the sole purpose of riling you up. But he decided against it, wanting you to feel better completely before teasing you. “Besides, it's slow tonight.”
“Did you forget we’re on a stakeout?” Robin asked, leaning over to reach for the phone. Jason stepped back and shrugged.
“I’m paying attention.”
“Not nearly as much as you should be,” he grumbled, crossing his arms and turned back to the building Bruce had wanted someone to look at. “Who are you talking to anyways? You don’t have any friends.”
Jason squawked, offended. “I have friends!” he defended, turning to look at his younger brother. Robin only snorted and shook his head.
“Superhero friends, and I’m pretty sure you don’t talk to them nearly as much as you're talking to the person you are now,” he pointed out. Which is true, over the last week or so, Jason found that he was talking to you more than any of his other friends. But he wasn’t going to tell that to Damian. “So, who are you talking to?”
“Why do you care?” he shot back, turning back to his phone.
“You’re glued to that thing constantly,” he said and just then their earpieces crackled coming to life before hearing Dick’s voice filter through.
“Little D’s got a point Jay. Whenever I see you, you're typing away and smiling like someone made a joke or something,” Dick said.
“There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“No, but you giggle like a schoolgirl with a crush,” Tim said. Jason rolled his eyes, he wasn’t that bad that everyone noticed. Was he?
“Maybe he met someone?” Duke said and the line went dead before it exploded with everyone’s yelling. Jason winced, and turned off his ear piece, relishing in the silence.
“Is Thomas right? You met someone and that’s who you’re talking to?” Robin asked, watching Jason with a calculated look.
“For me to know, and you to never find out,” Jason answered before leaving him be. He ignored Damian’s “we’ll find out eventually!” as he walked. Once he was far enough away, he sat at the edge of the building, and turned back to his phone.
Jason: Do you think anyone would notice if I got rid of my brothers?
Y/N: A hundred percent Bruce would know … Well, it depends if he pays attention to how many kids he has Your sisters might notice though Doesn’t Bruce have a butler?
Jason: Yeah, Alfred
Y/N: He will definitely notice And all of Gotham So I’m afraid your suck with them
Jason: Damn And here I was hoping to be an only child
Y/N: Should have thought about that before meeting Bruce
Jason: Funny
Y/N: I try to be Are they giving you grief?
Jason: You can say that They found out about you Well not you specifically They know I’m talking to someone
Y/N: Oooh Am I your dirty little secret?
Jason: Why did you have to say it like that? And no, you’re not my dirty secret I wanted this to be my thing before they started hounding me with question about you
Y/N: Okay that’s fair Wanna get to know me before introducing me to le family I get that
Jason: Have you told anyone yet?
Y/N: Nope
Jason: Now who’s the dirty little secret?
Y/N: You apparently
Jason: I’m okay with that
Y/N: Oh my god I have to go, finish this homework and sleep before class tomorrow
Jason: Yeah, me too. Not the homework part, but I promised Bruce I’d help him with something Talk to you tomorrow
Y/N: Good luck Night!
Jason: Night
499 notes · View notes
notjustjavierpena · 7 months
Text
House
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Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost
A/N: A few ideas poured into one. Thank you for all of the attention Hubby Javier is getting lately, makes me all teary-eyed.
Summary: Baby kicks and house-shopping, is there anything else to say?
Pairing: Javier Peña x reader (no y/n)
Tags: +15, Pregnancy, domestic married, idiots in love, making out
Word count: 1.7k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51723856
House
There’s a low hum coming from the radio in the kitchen. You’re on your back underneath white soft sheets that have warmed up to feel like a hug, drifting in and out of sleep to the soft pop song and a noise of mugs clinking.
It’s early morning and you have yet to get out of bed. Javier is doing his morning ritual, and it causes even the annoying ding of the toaster and the drip of the coffee maker to make you smile. The very sound of his existence outside of your own little bubble is proof that he isn’t just a figment of your imagination, that things are actually as good as they see, and the fact makes your eyes shut and your sleep more undisturbed than it’s ever been.
He wakes you half an hour later, gentle as ever.
“I’m heading to work, baby, Lord knows what messes I have to clean up today,” Javier says and bends down to kiss your forehead. He runs a hand over your hair which you say is way too greasy for him to do. He smiles, tuts, and heads towards the door. 
“Don’t forget we have that thing later,” you call after him as he exits the bedroom. You look after him despite him already being out of sight, awaiting his answer that will probably consist of him profusely apologizing for forgetting but you interrupt yourself by gasping out loud. You call for him a little louder.
“You okay?” Javier stands in the doorway not a second later. He has furrowed his brow. 
“Come here,” you hold out your hand with a grin. When Javier takes it, you guide his palm down to your just-starting-to-show pregnant belly.
“Is he kicking?” He asks with a voice that is a little more squeaky than normal. He doesn’t move his hand, doesn’t seem to dare in case he’ll miss it, and doesn’t get to say hello for the first time. 
“I swear if he gets your sleeping schedule and starts waking up around this time from now on,” you groan but Javier seems too transfixed to laugh at your joke. He kneels down on the floor, watching and waiting expectantly. 
“Talk to him,” you instruct, arching your back slightly to push your belly further into your husband’s hand, “He’ll react to your voice. I promise.”
Javier checks his watch on his other hand but he doesn’t show signs of being in a hurry. He rubs your stomach a little, kisses your skin, “Come on, bebito. Your dad needs to go fight villanos for the state.”
You giggle at the way he speaks so softly, switching to the same pitch that one would address a puppy with. He looks at you with red cheeks and you just want to kiss him, “Stop laughing.”
“Sorry, I just love you,” you continue your tiny giggles, not trying to stop them from bubbling up in your throat, “I’ll stay still. Just don’t give up.”
It takes a few more minutes before you feel Lucas move again. Your stomach jumps underneath Javier’s hand and the move surprises him to the point where he nearly falls on his ass, another laugh erupting from your chest. 
“Was that him?” He gapes at you and you nod. He quickly regains his composure to feel for more kicks. His eyes have lightened up and the smile he is sporting is pure joy mixed with disbelief, “That’s so badass…”
A few moments pass. Javier gets excited again, thoughts of work forgotten, “There! Again!”
“He loves you, baby,” you say, “He’s saying hello.”
“I can’t wait until he’s here,” he admits and whispers hello back to his son, resting his cheek against your belly whilst looking up at your face. He smiles as you run a hand over his hair, “I love you two too. Should I just stay here all day?”
“As nice as that sounds, we have that thing later,” you say, “The house tour.”
“Shit,” he says as predicted.
“You better be there, Peña. Your son needs that backyard,” you try to sound stern but Lucas kicks once more. You chuckle happily instead, and in the next moment, you don’t know if you are referring to Lucas or his father because Javier’s eyes practically sparkle, “Well someone’s excited.”
Javier had brought up the idea of a house the second you arrived home from your honeymoon along with a confession of having looked at possible sellers in the area since you got engaged. However, the idea had faded, had been put on hold due to everyday life getting in the way until now. Fulfilling the fantasy has become a reality since you found out that you are pregnant.
Now it has also been put into motion.
It’s the first house that you are seeing together. You went last week, fell in love with the place, and now, you want Javier’s opinion (and approval). Even though the house doesn’t have the same charm as your shared apartment, and despite the apartment space holding so many memories that you cherish, you know your current living situation won’t suit a growing family. 
“Right, I’ll be there,” he kisses your belly repeatedly, “I’ll see you later, mijo.”
“Go,” you usher him gently, “We’ll be here when you get back too.”
“Te amo, momma,” Javier says before he leaves your side, his voice so genuine you might slide underneath the covers because you can barely contain your happiness without giggling like a schoolgirl. 
“Te amo también,” you say back and then lay back to hear the sound of the front door closing. 
You use the rest of the morning to snooze and have a one-sided conversation with your unborn child, only getting out of bed when you cannot procrastinate anymore or you’ll be late. You wash your greasy hair twice in the shower and snack instead of eating a proper meal, scared that you will experience a fit of nausea during the house tour. Despite having a fair reason, you don’t think that vomiting in the bathroom of the house you are considering buying will go well with the seller. Javier would probably make a joke about marking your territory whilst stroking your back to make you stop crying.
Though later that day when you enter the house that you have already seen and daydreamed about, you immediately notice the crinkle of Javier’s nose at the mention of the rooms. Kitchen, bathroom, dining area. Smile. Three bedrooms. Nose crinkle. 
The realtor seems to notice it too, and she gives you a sympathetic look and touches your shoulder gently. You don’t flinch because she seems genuine and nice, “Why don’t I give you two some privacy? You’ll be able to look around without me hovering over your shoulder and without me making you hold back any negative comments.”
Javier hums, already wandering around and seeming lost in his own thoughts.
“That’d be great, thanks,” you smile and chase your husband down as she leaves. You find him running his knuckles over the kitchen counter, knocking once as if he has a clue about the material. It’s almost sweet the way that he is practicing his dad-mannerisms already. 
“You don’t like it,” you say matter-of-factly.
Javier whips around at hearing your voice, “What? No, I like it. It’s just—“
“Just what?” You join him by the counter, leaning against it. 
“There are only three bedrooms,” he notes as if it’s the most logical explanation in the world. 
You raise a brow and lay a hand on your protruding belly, “You do know there’s only one baby in here, right? It’s not like I’m about to give you a barbershop quartet.”
Javier laughs genuinely at the mental image. He moves to stand in front of you, reaching to hold your pregnant belly and rubbing its sides gently. He can see the disappointment in your eyes which makes him tut and you pout. 
“I’m just thinking ahead here, mi vida,” he rests his forehead against yours, chuckling at the sight of you pushing out your bottom lip. He rubs a soothing circle into your stomach with his thumb, and brushes a strand of hair from your face with his other hand, “Don’t pout. You know I’m weak.”
“You don’t love it the way I do,” you squeak out, “And this is within our price range.”
“We’ll borrow money from my Pop, hell, he’ll pawn his whole house for us,” he reaches up to cup your face in both his hands, tilting back your head so he can repeatedly peck your lips, “And no, I don’t love it the way you do.”
You reach for one of his wrists, offended. 
“But,” he interrupts before you can protest, “If we’re having at least three kids then we’re already a bedroom short.”
“Three?!” You say in a horrified tone.
“Eventually,” he soothes.
“That’s almost a whole litter, Javi.”
“Well, you don’t have to drop them all at once,” he jokes, pauses, and then continues, “I’m just asking you to keep our options open with me.”
“But this kitchen,” you whine, gesturing to the farmhouse sink that you’ve fallen so deeply in love with, “I wanna do the dishes here and I hate doing the dishes.”
“I’ll build you your own kitchen, baby, with a rich-people-sink and a dishwasher,” he presses his thumbs into the underside of your jaw, “How’s that sound? Bién, no?”
You half-frown, half-smile. It does sound nice.
“There it is,” he says as you finally smile fully and allow a new daydream to manifest in your mind, “That’s my girl.” 
A few long seconds pass with kissing him in a house that won’t be yours after all, arms slung around his neck, and standing on your toes as you make out. God, you love the confidence that Javier radiates. Suddenly everything seems possible. 
“Besides,” Javier pulls back a little, mischievous, ”Did you see that backyard? A soccer team has 11 players, you know, and with the way Lucas is kicking…”
“You better stop that talk right now if you ever wanna get with me again, Mister,” you answer but then you kiss him again.
“I’ll tell the realtor that we want something bigger,” he takes a step back but you grab his arm. He allows you to pull him back in.
“I need a hug. Just five more minutes,” you beg.
And so he does, holding you tightly in an embrace that is pouring with love.
“Okay, five more minutes.”
.
.
.
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bloatedandalone04 · 7 months
Text
Wrapped Around Your Finger - Part 0.4
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Series Masterlist | Original Fic
➪in which the tour begins and though anakin is excited to be back on stage, he already misses having you there with him, and this results in him spending his last night with you by loving on you in every possible way.
PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.
WC; 8.7k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡
“I think we’ve narrowed it down to three options,” Vinny tells Helena and sits next to her, his phone in his hand as he scrolls through the Instagram pages of each potential photographer. “How’d we do?”
Helena hummed as she scrolled through the pictures. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” She teased as she paused on one of the pages. “What about this girl?”
Anakin leaned over and saw that she had the Instagram account named elizaphotography open. “She’s my first choice,” he announced before going back to writing down lyrics to a song that’s been stuck in his head all day. “I don’t know about the other guys.”
“Yeah, I liked her, as well,” Theo agrees. 
“Me too,” Helena says and hands Vinny back his phone. “So if she wasn’t your first choice, you’re outnumbered, Vin.”
Vinny scoffs as he shoves his phone into his pocket. “I chose her, too,” 
“Perfect, it’s settled,” Helena claps as she stands up. “I’ll arrange an agreement with her and get her signed onto the tour, which is two days away, if you weren’t aware.”
Anakin felt his heart skip a beat at that. 
Two more days with you at home, then another day stuck on the bus.
He really wanted you with him the whole time, but he also wasn’t about to go back on his words and ask you to give up a great career opportunity just so you can watch him from backstage. “We’re aware, thanks,” he mumbled and felt the eyes of all three of them stare at him, but he just continued writing lyrics that were quickly beginning to sound like a straight up love letter addressed to you. 
“Alright,” Helena says and Anakin misses the weary look she shares with the guys before backing away. “Just making sure. Get some good sleep these next couple of nights, guys. You’ve got a busy three months ahead of you.”
She leaves after that, and Anakin quickly begins to feel a bit bad, but he liked to think his harsh words were justified. “Hey, man,” Vinny says and places his hand on Anakin’s shoulder. “You okay?”
He nods, closing the book and standing up, giving his two friends an apologetic smile. “Yeah, I’m good,” he answers. “I think I’ll go home early today, if you guys don’t mind. I still need to pack a few things, and I’ll probably forget to do it later on.”
That sounded reasonable, right?
“Sure, man,” Theo says and stands up as well. “You go home, Vin and I will catch up with you in a bit.”
Vinny nods and gives him an over-exaggerated smile, successfully making Anakin laugh as he walks towards the door that Helena left through not even a minute earlier. “Thanks, guys,” he says, grateful that they seemed to understand him better than he thought they would. As he heads towards the exit, he takes his phone out of his pocket and dials your number, bringing the phone up to his ear as he waits for you to pick up. 
“Hi, Ani,” your way too kind voice greets him, and he felt better already. 
“Hi, princess,”
“What are you guys up to?” He could hear you rummaging around with something in the background, and he really wanted to be home with you right now. “Making more hit songs? Preferably about me?”
Your soft laugh met his ear and he refrained from groaning. “All our songs are about you,” he reminds you as he leaves the building the studio is in. “Perks of being the lead songwriter.”
You laugh again and he could picture your pretty smile without even trying to.
“But, no,” he answered. “I’m on my way home.”
“Oh,” you sounded surprised but also a bit happy at the news. “Early day today?”
“No, I just miss you,” and then he was once again picturing your small smile he knew was just for him.
-
“Are you sure you have everything?” You ask Anakin for the third time as he stuffs his headphones into his bag. 
“Yes,” he answers for the third time and turns to face you. “Do you have everything? Still have that email saved that proves you’re a student there and get to take advantage of the student housing on campus?”
“Yes,” you say and kiss his cheek. “Bye, bedroom. See you in three months.” 
You wave goodbye to yours and his room before heading towards the door, and he is convinced there is no one in the world who is cuter than you. 
After locking the door, Anakin takes your hand in his as the two of you make your way towards the elevators. The whole ride down, as well as the short walk to the side of the apartment building, he didn’t loosen his grip on you for a second. 
You weren’t complaining one bit, nor could you blame him for wanting to touch you as much as possible right now. You weren’t doing much better. 
After getting a drive to the airport you meet up with both the guys, who had arrived a bit earlier. 
“Hey, Y/n,” Theo smiled at you when you and Anakin approached the bag check area. They both already had their bags checked, so they were just waiting on the two of you. “Nice to see you.”
You smile at him as Vinny looks up from his place on the uncomfortable airport chair. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this, especially after the torture you two put us through on the bus last time, but I’m glad you’re here,” he says and you laugh quietly. “This guy has been acting like a depressed teenage boy ever since you got accepted into that program. Been a real downer.” He points at Anakin with a smirk.
Laughing again, you press yourself against your boyfriend’s side as he glares at his friend. “Shut up, Vin,”
“Be nice,” you lightly slap his chest as he pulls you closer to him. “In all honesty, I haven’t been acting any better.”
Vinny nods. “Fair,” was all he said before he looked back down at his phone.
You lean up and kiss Anakin’s cheek, moving to pull away from him when he tugs you back against his side and kisses you properly. Stepping away with a laugh, you hold out your bag to him with a soft pout. “Get this checked for me?”
He takes it from you without question and kisses the side of your head before walking towards the screening section, leaving you to stand with Theo. 
“Hey, I’m not sure how much you wanted me to know, if at all, but Anakin told me about your mom,” you start and move closer to him. Theo tenses up at that and leans against the wall. “I’m really sorry to hear that she’s sick. How are you doing?”
He sighs and shrugs. “I don’t care that he told you, don’t worry,” he said. “I figured he would, so it’s fine. I’m fine, too.”
You nod, pursing your lips as you think about what to say next. It was clear that he wasn’t, but you weren’t about to call him out on it. That was Vinny’s thing. “Okay,” you murmur, reaching over and squeezing his shoulder. “If there is anything at all I can do, just let me know.”
Theo gives you a semi-forced smile as he nudges your side with his elbow. “Thanks, Y/n/n,” he mutters. “I’m good for now. Promise.”
“Okay,” you repeat and smile teasingly at him. “Are you ready for round two of tour life?”
He smiles, too, and gives you a hesitant nod. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” he answered. 
“You’ll be great,” you assure him as Anakin walks back over to you. “You’ll all be great.”
“You’re sweet,” Vinny says as he stands up. “Far too nice for our boy Anakin here.”
Anakin gives him a blank look and you have to hold back a laugh. “Where’s your girlfriend, Vinny?” He asked as he laced his fingers with yours. “We’re going to be late.”
Vinny rolls his eyes and looks behind you. “Right there,” he replied as Clara rushed over to you after getting her bag checked. “Hey, babe.”
“Hi!” She says back, out of breath as she smiles at you. “I’m so sorry I took so long getting here. I had to order an Uber and the traffic was crazy.”
“You’re fine,” Anakin says as you all begin to walk towards the loading bridge. 
After giving the lady your tickets you were left to board the plane and sit for the next eleven hours. The whole ride there Anakin somehow managed to sleep peacefully with his head on your shoulder while you watched the entirety of the Scream franchise.
You ended up sleeping through most of the third one, but other than that, you didn’t get nearly as much sleep as Anakin did. He was a bit groggy because of it as the five of you made your way through the London airport. Helena was waiting for you when you made it outside, and the sight of the tour bus brought back so many memories from the last tour, it had your hand tightening around Anakin’s as he guided you towards it.
“Alright, guys,” Helena said excitedly as you all got onto the bus. “And girls. Are you ready for your show tomorrow night?” 
Theo tossed his bag onto the top bunk before sitting on the small couch that was next to the even smaller table. “So ready,” he answered with a certain amount of enthusiasm that gave away the fact that he was playing it up a bit. He was excited, sure, but he would rather be at home and helping his sister take care of his mom, but he knew what he was getting into when he joined this industry. 
It truly didn’t wait for anyone. 
“I was waiting for the day we got to go on tour again,” Vinny says as he heads towards the back of the bus and throws his bag onto the double bed. “Just didn’t realize it would come this quick.”
Helena nods as she sits down at the table. “This is all very fast-paced, I know,” she agreed. “How ‘bout you, Anakin? Are you ready?”
Anakin pulls you with him towards the bunk as he nods. “I’m ready,” he says and sets his bag down on the ground, turning to take yours from you and set it down as well. “I’m not ready to say goodbye to this one, though.”
You laugh as he pulls you against his chest. “‘This one’?”
“Yeah,” he states. “This one.”
Shaking your head, you look down at the bottom bunk. “We’re both supposed to fit in that bed?” You ask and he nods, looking over at the small bed as well. “Not sure how that’s going to work. Unless I sleep completely on top of you.”
Anakin smirks and slides his hands lower down your back, seeming to not care at all about the four other people around. Five if you counted the driver. “That’s the plan, baby,” 
You roll your eyes and push him away from you. “You’re such a guy,”
He laughs loudly as he moves to lay down on the bottom bunk, his hand finding yours as he tugs you down as well. “C’mere,” he mumbles. “Let’s see if we fit.”
You huff as you move to lay on top of him, his hands finding their home on your hips almost instantly. “Wow, would you look at that,” you mutter as you settle against him. “We fit.”
Anakin hums, kissing your lips quickly. “It’s you and me,” he points out. “Of course we fit.”
You smile and kiss him again before moving to rest your head on his shoulder. 
“Does this remind you of anything?” He asks as he runs his hands up and down your back.
“Us,” you answer. “Circa…..less than six months ago?”
“Feels like it was yesterday,” he grins. “It also reminds me of when you and I fell asleep on the upstairs couch at my parents house after we threw that graduation party.”
“Oh, my God,” you whine, burying your face against his neck. “Your mom was so mad about that. She came home and the house was a mess.”
“Hey, she said she wouldn’t be back for another three days. I would’ve had plenty of time to clean it up had she stuck to her word,”
“We would’ve,” you pointed out, brushing your nose along his jawline. “I love you, Ani, but we both know you’re awful at cleaning.”
“True,” he agreed. “But that didn’t stop my mom from sending you home and making me clean the entire house by myself while I nursed a hangover.”
You laugh and move to lay half on top of him and half on the small amount of space left on the bed. “It feels like it’s been years since we were in high school,” you admit quietly as Theo and Helena fell into a hushed conversation. You weren’t sure you wanted to know what Vinny and Clara were up to. 
Anakin hummed and you felt the vibrations of it against the side of your face. “It has been years,” he mumbled, his voice giving away the fact that he was tired, despite sleeping for most of the flight. “It’s been almost three since we graduated.”
“I know, but it feels like it’s been way longer than that,” you murmur, tracing the tip of your index finger along the various shapes on his shirt. “Maybe it’s just me. I feel like I haven’t slowed down in so long. It’s been one thing after the other since we finished high school.”
He hums again, turning on his side and draping his arm over your waist. “I know,” he says quietly. “I’m to blame for most of it, I know that. I’m sorry it’s been crazy ever since the guys and I released that first song.” 
You shake your head and press your body against his. “I wouldn’t change a thing, Ani,” you promise, stroking his cheekbone with your thumb. “I’m just hoping we get some time to ourselves after this. Is that selfish to want? Considering we’ve been spending almost all of our time together since we were seventeen?” 
He shakes his head this time and pulls you closer to him. “No,” he states. “It’s not selfish, baby, because I want it, too.”
You smile up at him, wondering how he was able to assure you so easily with the simplest of words. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he presses a kiss to your forehead. “I want to spend days on end with you in our apartment, in our bed, and not have to worry about anything else all day long.”
You groan and the sound goes straight to his dick, but he did his best to push away the dirty thoughts about you in his head. While you and he weren’t very quiet last time on tour, you also had a whole part of the bus to yourselves, and fucking you on the bottom bunk while Theo slept above him was a bit much, even for him.
“Sounds perfect,” you practically moan and Anakin really had to put in the effort to stop the blood from rushing to the lower part of his body. 
“You should try to sleep,” he changed the subject in an attempt to stop himself from thinking about all the ways he could take you right now. “I know you barely slept on the plane.”
You huff out a laugh, settling against him. “You did enough of that for the both of us, don’t you think?”
He smirked. “That’s the best sleep I’ve gotten while not in an actual bed,” he argued but you just shook your head. “It’s late, pretty girl, and we’ve got a long day tomorrow. You should try to get some sleep.”
“I’ll sleep in a bit,” you say and rest your head on his chest. “Right now I just want to lay with you.”
And Anakin would never complain about laying with you for as long as you wanted, because it was something he wanted, too.
So, he stayed in the bunk with you for a couple of hours before you both changed into more comfortable clothing, and then you were right back in the bed together. 
“I don’t know how I’m supposed to sleep in this bed by myself once you’re gone,” he confessed quietly, not wanting to wake up his sleeping bandmates. “Now that I know we fit perfectly together on it, it’ll be hard to get used to not having you in my arms.”
“Easy,” you warned just as quietly. “If you keep talking like that, I’ll end up staying with you instead of doing this program.”
“Maybe that’s my plan,” he joked, but he quickly realized how serious his words actually are. You didn’t need to know that, though. “I’m proud of you, you know that?”
You nod, kissing his neck and closing your eyes. “I know. And I’m proud of you, too. And I love you,”
His lips found yours in the dark bus, and he kissed you more than a few times before pulling your body right up against his. “I love you,” he swore, wrapping his arms securely around you and feeling the way you relaxed completely against him as you fell asleep. 
-
“Hi,” an unfamiliar voice said from behind Anakin. He turned around and looked up from his crouched position as he tuned the string of his guitar, his eyes meeting ones of a girl he’s never seen before. 
There were a few hours left before he was set to go out on stage, and he was currently going over the standard soundchecks backstage. 
“Hi,” he trailed off, trying to think of where he could’ve seen this girl, because it was clear that she was here for a reason, and it seemed like she knew him. 
“Oh, right, sorry,” she laughed, lifting her hand revealing an expensive looking camera. “I guess since there aren’t any photos of me on my Instagram, you wouldn’t have recognized me from anywhere. I’m Liz, your band’s new photographer.”
She held her hand out to him and Anakin straightened up a bit but stayed in his knelt position. “Oh, hey,” he greets in a much more friendly tone. He shook her hand briefly before going back to working on his guitar. “Yeah, I had no idea what you looked like, just what your Instagram shows. Your pictures are good.”
Liz’s face tints pink a bit as she holds up her camera. “Thank you,” she smiles. “I can’t wait to start taking some for you and your band.”
Anakin laughs as he glances up at her. “I wouldn’t call it my band,” he brushes off her words. “We’re a team.”
“You’re the lead singer and lead songwriter, right?” She smirks as she plays with the settings on the camera. When Anakin hesitantly nods, her smirk grows. “So it’s your band.”
“Not really,” he tries again but shuts up when she brings the camera up to her face.
“Mind if I get some behind the scenes pictures of you?”
Anakin looks down at his ripped tee and worn jeans with a frown. “I look kinda bad right now,”
Liz scoffs. “You look hot,” she grins when he looks up at her. “You’re in your element. The fans will go crazy for it. They want to see you in a natural setting, one where you’re not trying to look good but somehow managed to anyway.”
“Right,” he laughed. “If you say so.”
“You know I’m right. Now smile,” he did as he was told and waited until Liz had taken at least ten photos of him before turning away and focusing on the strings of his guitar. “Thanks. I’ll see you later...in action.”
When he heard her begin to walk away, Anakin lifted his gaze again and watched as she wandered off towards the exit. There was something about her that he couldn’t quite place his finger on, but it was weird. He knew that much. 
But he also didn’t want to judge her after one interaction with her.
Shaking his head, he goes back to tuning the strings and takes another ten or so minutes doing that before setting it aside and pulling out his phone. When he opened his Instagram app, he was met with the picture Liz had just taken of him not too long ago. 
It was already edited to make it look a bit more HD and vibrant, and he wondered how she had managed to do that and post it so quickly. It was captioned ‘One of many to come. Here’s a sneak peak of Anakin before tonight’s show in Manchester! I’m beyond excited to go on this journey with you.’, and she had tagged both his account and the band’s. 
It already had over fifteen thousand likes, and after scrolling through her other posts, he realized that the simple picture of him was her most popular upload already. He couldn’t lie, she was quite talented, and if her posting him was what got her stuff out there, he was more than okay with that. 
Still looking at his phone, he missed the way the door to the parking lot opened and how you quickly made your way over to him. “Ani,” you call and he looks up instantly, rising to stand just as you throw yourself into his arms. 
You kissed him before he could say anything, and he was helpless in fighting off the smile that took over his lips. “Baby,”
You grin at him. “I saw that picture your photographer posted,” you tell him and Anakin could immediately hear the way your voice changed into one he’s heard you speak in way too many times to count. “You looked so hot, I had to come see you for myself.” 
He laughed, holding your waist with both hands. “She’s quick with it, huh? I guess we made the right choice,”
You nod and kiss him again. “So you’ve met her? Officially?” You ask and he nods, running his hands up and down your sides. “Damn, I wanted to meet her before tonight, too.”
“I’m sure you’ll be able to talk to her before the show,” he offered as he leaned down and kissed your neck. “You look so pretty.”
You scoff and glance down at the simple white dress you wore, the contrast to his fully black outfit and how different your styles were more evident than ever. “Please,” you laugh. “I don’t even have my makeup done. I was in the middle of it when I saw the post and had to run across the parking lot to come see you.”
“Ah,” he hums, pulling back with a smirk. “So that’s why you’re all hot and bothered.”
“Nope,” you shake your head, glancing around the backstage area before shamelessly gripping the front of his jeans. “You’re why I’m all hot and bothered.”
“Y/n,” he warned as he looked over to see a bunch of the stage crew members scurry around in an attempt to get things ready for the show. “Don’t make me take you right back to that tour bus when I’m supposed to be getting ready for the show.”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” you tease back, pulling your hand away. “I gotta finish getting ready, and so do you. I’ll see you in a bit.”
He nods, grabbing your hand when you begin to move away from him and pulling you back in for a deep kiss. “See you soon,”
And then you were on your way with a shy smile on your lips, and he was left with a semi hard-on as he helped get the stage set up. It wasn’t part of his job, and there were professionals there to do it for him, but he needed the distraction to help rid him of your effects on him. 
Since you were now in London, Anakin had gone out of his way to book a hotel room for tonight so he can spend his last night with you alone and in an actual bed. Your dorm was about an hour away from tonight’s venue, so you came up with the plan to catch a ride the rest of the way tomorrow morning while Anakin left for the rest of the tour. 
The fact that he had less than twenty four hours left with you did the trick and he was no longer sporting a semi.
Hours go by and it’s finally time for him to go back on stage for the first time since the last tour. Yeah, it was only a few months ago, but Anakin couldn’t deny how much he missed performing. And he couldn’t deny how much he loved seeing you in your personal spot backstage. 
Before he joined the other guys on stage, he stopped next to you with his guitar strap around his body. He pulled you towards him and kissed you hard, grinning when you pulled back and murmured, “Have a good show, Ani,”
That was all he needed to hear as he made his way out on stage, and the loud cheers of the fans had both of you smiling. 
You stand next to Clara as Vinny introduces the band from his place behind the drumkit, and she was as antsy as you were the first time you saw them on stage. 
A flash goes off next to you and you turn, noticing a girl in her late twenties holding up a camera and taking pictures of the guys in various angles. “Hey,” you call out over the beginning chords of Dirty Little Secret. The girl looks over at you with an unreadable expression, making your smile drop a bit. “You’re Liz, right?”
“That’s right,” she yells back, stepping towards you with a small smirk. “And you are…?”
You furrow your brows, assuming she already knew who you were since she was told to look into the band she would be working with, and you weren’t exactly missing from Anakin’s Instagram. He only had two posts now, the one with you, and the shirtless picture of him from the SLACKERS shoot. He posted that one mainly for you, since you so sweetly asked him to. 
“I’m Y/n,” you say and nod towards your boyfriend. “Anakin’s girlfriend.”
“Right,” she dragged the word out as she lifted the camera again. “I knew you looked familiar. Saw you on his Instagram. You guys are cute.”
The way she said that had you narrowing your eyes as she moved past you and towards the stairs that lead to the mosh pit. She didn’t give you the chance to respond, but she was also technically working, so you didn’t really get too annoyed. 
You turn back towards the stage and heat up at the thin layer of sweat that had already settled on Anakin’s skin. His outfit was simple; black jeans, a vintage tee and black converse, but fuck did it get you going. 
As he sang the song he wrote way back when the two of you first got together, you had to stop yourself from moaning out loud at how good your boyfriend looks. Realistically, no one would hear you if you were to slip up and moan, but you also didn’t want to take that chance. A bit hypocritical since you used to receive a lot of dirty looks back on campus after spending hours on end with Anakin in bed, but you couldn’t be blamed. Anakin was beyond attractive, and those walls were far too thin. 
Even though you had pretty much the best view, you were still excited to see the HD pictures Liz took once the show was over. She seemed relatively nice and career focused, and you could only assume that the two of you would get along. Sure, you wouldn’t see much of her since this is your last day on the tour and this is her first, but the potential of a possible friendship forming between you was definitely there. 
The show went on for nearly two hours before the guys were bidding their London fans a goodbye and leaving the stage, all three of them pumped up on adrenaline. Vinny is pretty much all over Clara, and Anakin is no better. After handing off his guitar, his hands find your hips and he pulls you against his sweat coated body. 
You didn’t mind at all, and you were actually having a hard time resisting poking your tongue out and licking a line up his neck. “You guys were amazing,” was all you managed to get out before his lips were on yours. He pressed you against the recently unplugged speaker, his hands bunching up the fabric of your flimsy blue dress. “Ani.”
“I love that sound,” he muttered, kissing you again. “I love this color on you, too. This dress is so pretty, baby.”
You hold back a moan and tangle your hands in his hair. “Anakin,” you said breathlessly. “Let’s get out of here, please?” 
He groaned, kissing along your exposed shoulder. “Let’s go find out how this dress looks on the hotel room floor,” he suggested, pulling away and taking your hand in his as he led you towards the exit. 
The hotel was a short five minute drive away from the venue, so Anakin just flagged down a cab after grabbing your things and his bag. On the ride there, he sent a quick text to the guys and Helena that told them he would meet up with them the following morning at whatever place they decided to station the bus at for the night. 
Then he was pulling you along with him as he took the room key from the lady at the front desk. He barely had the door labeled 306 shut fully before he was pressing you right up against it, his mouth covering yours and his hands gripping the backs of your thighs after you both dropped your bags. “Anakin,” you gasp quietly as he lifts you up. “Please.”
He hummed into the kiss, only breaking it to murmur, “We’re going to take our time tonight, princess,” he rasped, sliding his hands under your dress and gripping your ass. “I’m going to make you feel so good for hours.”
“Ani,” you whined against his mouth, holding onto his hair as he pulls you away from the door and moves towards the bed. You moan as his hands knead your soft skin before he sets you down on the floor just in front of the bed. “I need you.” 
“I need you, too,” he says back, kissing along your shoulders and pushing down the straps of your dress. “I always need you. Remember that, princess.”
You nod as he slides your dress down your body and lets it fall to the floor. When his hands grip your thighs again, you jump up and wrap your legs around his waist and kiss him, clinging onto him as he lays you down on the bed. 
It was nearing midnight, and even though you both have an early day ahead of you tomorrow, the fact that this was your last night together before being separated was hanging heavily at the front of your minds.  
Anakin kissed all along your neck and shoulders as if he was trying to burn the feeling of you into his mind. He was savoring the feeling of your soft skin against his lips as if this was the last time he’d ever experience you, but he knew that was far from the truth. 
You are undeniably and completely his, much like how he is yours. 
“You’re so good to me, Ani,” you praise as he kisses down your body, his fingers gently kneading you through your bra. “I don’t deserve you.”
He shook his head as he pressed a kiss to your hip. “You’ve got it wrong, pretty girl,” he said, running his nose along your pretty pink and lacy panties. “I don’t deserve you. I’ve done nothing in my life that has ever made me deserve you.”
You pout. “You write songs about me,”
“Yeah, but that began happening after I met you. Before I was just a dumb band geek who could hardly keep up with the rest of them,” 
Your mind goes back to the early days of yours and his relationship, back when you were part of the school’s book club and he was part of the school’s band. Realistically, the two of you should have never met because you were so different from one another, but you were beyond glad that you did.
You were sure there was no better person for you than Anakin Skywalker, and you didn’t want the chance to even try to prove yourself right. 
“Look at you now,” you grin. “You’re living out your dream. And you were never dumb.”
Anakin laughed as he kissed your inner thigh. “Maybe not, but you were always a hell of a lot smarter than me,” he pointed out and traced the lining of your bra with his index finger. “And it’s only a dream because you’re right here with me.”
Your face heats up and you bite down hard on your lip, his words sending a jolt of need through your body. 
His hands gently tug the lace down your legs and drop them to the floor, his mouth moving to wrap around your bundle of nerves. You grab his left hand and tangle your fingers together, bringing your joined hands up to your lips and pressing a kiss to the bumpy skin of his newest tattoo for you.  
You place his hand on your chest and he gets the hint immediately, curling his fingers and stroking your nipple through the thin material of your bra as he licks a stripe up your folds. 
“Anakin,” you whine, trying to close your legs but he was relentless as he pushed them back down. “I want you.”
He lifts his head, his mouth glistensing from both his spit and your juices. “I want you, too, pretty girl,” he promised, using his free hand to fuck his middle and index finger into you. “But we’re going slow tonight, the way we both need it.”
You whine again as his mouth returns to your clit, his tongue tracing the letters of his name onto it in time with the thrusts of his hand. Your hand tangles in his hair while your other one fumbles with the clasp of your bra. Once you pull it from your body, Anakin’s fingers go right back to pinching and pulling at your hardening peaks, the feeling of it only making the fucks of his hand that much more intense. 
“Are you going to get me off with your mouth, Ani?” You ask so innocently, despite you literally asking if he was going to make you come with just his tongue and fingers. 
He groaned against your core, the vibrations traveling right up your body and making you squirm a bit. “Yeah, princess,” he answered, slowly fucking his digits in and out of you. “I’m gonna get you off with my mouth.”
You moan loudly and arch your back a bit, placing your hand over his in a tight grip. “Fuck,” 
He smirked and brought his tongue back to your folds, where he fucked you with it right alongside his fingers. “You want it?” He teased, unable to stop himself from getting you to say more and more filthy things that always sounded so sweet coming from you. 
And, of course, you give in to him without any hesitation. “I want it,”
“Let me taste you, pretty girl,” he nearly begged and roughly thrusted his hand. “All over my tongue.”
He sunk the wet muscle into your core and thrusted it a few times. That was really all you needed as your stomach tightened and your back arched. “Ani, oh, God,” you cry out as the knot that had been quickly building up snaps and unravels. 
Anakin greedily cleans up any evidence of your release, slowing down the sharp fucks of his fingers before pulling them out of you completely. He sits back on his knees as he sucks the digits into his mouth, all while keeping eye contact with you. 
Your eyes are blown wide as you watch him pop his fingers out of his mouth before he moves onto ridding himself of his shirt. His bare chest next to his ink covered arm had your mind blanking for a second or two as you were hit with an overwhelming feeling of need for the man in front of you. 
His hand slides up your leg and bends it at the knee, using very little strength to pry your thighs apart so he can stare at your sopping entrance. You writhe and bite down hard on your lip, and his smirk makes your heartbeat quicken. “Move back, princess,” he demands in a deep voice and you oblige right away.
You move back and lean against the ridiculous amount of pillows that were propped against the headboard. Your hands tug on his jeans as you whine quietly, your mind a lust-filled mess at this point. “Take them off,” you beg and he laughs. 
He unzips the black material and kicks them off his legs. They join the growing pile on the floor as he hovers over you and grunts at the way you grab his hand and suck his thumb into your mouth. “You’re so hot,” he muttered as he settled between your legs. 
“Don’t talk to me about who’s hot when you’re literally the most attractive man on the entire planet,” you say and pull him down on top of you. 
Anakin laughs again and grinds his still clothed front against your bare one. “You always know just what to say to make me feel special, baby,” 
You lean in and kiss him hard, tugging on his hair as you did so. “You are special,” you mumble and kiss along his jawline. “Don’t ever forget that.”
He hummed and moved his head down to suck another mark onto your shoulder, wanting all of the guys in your program to see that you were taken and that they shouldn’t even bother wasting their time. “I want you,” he rasped, kissing you again and noisily pulling away. “Are you ready for me?”
“Always,” you answer without hesitation. 
He grins and kisses you again while you take it upon yourself to rid him of his boxer briefs. Your previous release made it easy for him to slide into your core, and the two of you share a moan as he pulls away from the kiss. “Fuck,” he groaned and pressed his head against the side of your neck. 
You were still a bit sensitive, but you were also far too gone to wait any longer. Tangling your hands in his hair, you tug at the slightly long strands as he pulls out halfway before sinking back into you. “Ani,” you whimper as you wrap your legs around his waist. 
“I know, baby,” he mumbles and peppers kisses along your neck and shoulders as he begins thrusting into you at a slow pace. He was painfully hard and his body was begging him to go fast, but he didn’t want this night with you to end anytime soon. “You feel so good.”
Like always.
Your sweet moans sound throughout the hotel room as he slowly and sharply fucked into you. Your walls took every inch of him greedily, and the tightness of them had Anakin grunting quietly under his breath. 
Wrapping your arms tightly around his shoulders, you bring your mouth to his in a surprisingly delicate kiss, despite the current circumstances. Your lips mesh together as his hips meet yours at a slow pace, swapping out the quick fucks you’ve shared since moving into the new apartment together. 
While it was always intimate and personal with Anakin, and it was amazing every single time, on the rare occasion he took his time and touched every single part of you….you never felt more loved, wanted and needed. 
He breaks the kiss and moves his mouth to your neck, where he kisses every inch of you. You wrap your legs around his waist, your heels digging into his back to push him even deeper into you. He lifts one hand and pushes away the hair from your forehead that had gotten messy from your previous actions, his fingers running down the side of your face and resting on the curve of your jaw. 
How he was so gentle in one way while absolutely destroying you in another was sending your mind into a frenzy. 
He told you from day one that he would always take care of you, and that meant in and out of bed, and he was never one to break a promise, especially one he made to you. 
He made you feel so good all the time, and right now was one of those times you truly felt connected to him. 
“You feel so good, baby,” he praised quietly, and his sweet praises always made you a blushing mess for him. 
Usually he loved to get you loud, which ultimately resulted in him fucking you hard and quick into the bed, but nothing turned him on like when he took you nice and slow. 
The intense feeling of your walls hugging every inch of him had him going crazy. He had no idea how he was supposed to go weeks without you, and not even in this way. Five years is a long time with someone, and he had never gone more than a few days without you. 
He was going to miss you more than he’s ever missed anything else, but the thought of finally settling down with you after this was over is what he is holding onto. 
He didn’t care that you were both still so young. He wanted you forever, and he wanted everyone to know it. 
As soon as the tour was over, he was going to ask you the question he’s been waiting to ask you since a month into your relationship. 
“Ani,” you whimper, tugging on his hair as he brought you closer and closer to your release with the slow fucks of his hips. “I love you.”
Anakin lifts his head and kisses you deeply, his thrusts stuttering a bit as you clench down around him. He kisses you a couple more times, cradling the back of your head in one hand while his other finds yours, where he laces your fingers together. 
He held you as if you were the most pure and fragile thing he had ever seen, and your already dizzy head swooned further. “I love you, princess,” he rasped, kissing you again as he fucked into you a bit harder but at the same pace. “My pretty girl. I love you so much.”
Though he was going slow, you felt your release quickly approaching. He was so sweet and your emotions were getting the better of you, and you moan against his mouth as you hug him close. “Anakin,” you practically whisper as you tug on his hair. 
He hummed and kissed along your jaw, pausing by your ear so he could murmur, “Come for me, pretty girl,” 
And you do. 
You cling to him impossibly tight as you come for the second time with Anakin mumbling soft praises to you. 
The warmth that flooded around him spurred his own release, and Anakin groans and curses under his breath as your walls suck him in deeper. “Good girl,” he says quietly as he moves to lay next to you. He pulls you into his arms and kisses all over your face as he tangles his legs with yours. “You always take me so well.”
You grin up at him. “Well, I was made for you,” you joke, but both of you believe that your words were true. It really did feel like you were made for each other. 
Anakin laughed and kissed your forehead. “You’re not wrong,” he agreed and ran his fingers up and down your back as you both tried to get your breathing back to normal. 
You lay together in a comfortable silence, your hand resting on his chest as you tried to forget about the fact that you really only had a few hours left with him. Propping yourself up on your elbow, you meet his eyes and match his grin. “We should probably get some sleep soon. We have an early morning,”
He nodded, gently grabbing your left hand. “We should,” he says as he kisses your tattoo of his initial. “But I’d rather be tired tomorrow than waste our time together by sleeping.”
Your smile grows as he pulls you closer to him. “What did you have in mind, then? If you don’t want to go to sleep?”
Anakin hummed in pretend thought as he grabbed the back of your thigh and placed it over his. “I remember saying that I would make you feel good for hours,” he recalled and your face heated up as your hand tangled in his hair again. 
“I think I remember you saying something like that, too,” 
-
“I’m going to miss you so much,” Anakin mumbles against your lips as he holds your body impossibly close to his. 
“I miss you already,” you quietly confess as you pressed your head against his shoulder. “But it’s only three months. And I’ll come see you when it’s our anniversary. And your birthday is coming up, too, and I’m not missing that.”
He kissed the top of your head, the cool air blowing your hair around a bit. “You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear that,”
You smile up at him with tears in your eyes and he couldn’t stop himself from kissing you right now if he tried. His lips met yours in a gentle kiss, one that reminded him of the first ever one he shared with you, back when he was an inexperienced teen. 
He didn’t want this moment to end, nor did he want to go back onto that bus without you, but it was nearing the time he was supposed to meet back up with the guys so they can make it to the next location in time. 
Anakin pulled you closer just as his phone went off, and he knew who it was without even checking it. He pulled it out of his pocket and glanced at the text before looking back at you. “It’s Vinny,” he says quietly. “I’ve gotta go.”
You nod and take his hand in yours. “I love you,” 
He kisses your forehead and squeezes your fingers in between his. “I love you so much, pretty girl,” 
You sniff quietly and step away from him. “Have fun, Ani,” you request in a whisper. “And don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”
He would always worry about you for as long as he lived, and you knew that. He was actually very worried about you living in London on your own while he was off with two of his closest friends, but he didn’t want to make you any more nervous about it than you already are. “I know you will,” he smiled sadly. “I’m so proud of you. You’ll do amazing.”
Anakin grabbed his bag and moved towards the cab that had been waiting for him for the past ten minutes, and if Anakin hadn’t already told the guy that he’d tip him extra for waiting, he was sure he would’ve left by now. 
“Keep me updated,” he nearly begged as he opened the backseat door. “I want to hear about everything, okay?”
You nod and wipe under your eyes. “I will,” you promised, dreading having to go back to your hotel room to get ready to move into your temporary dorm. “Text me after every show, please?”
“You know I will,” he grinned then softened his gaze as more tears fell from your eyes. “We can handle three months, princess. That’s nothing when I know it’s you who I’m coming back to.” 
You smile with a laugh. “I’ll see you soon,” 
He refrained from going back over to you and taking you into his arms as he knew he wouldn’t be able to bring himself to let you go again. “I’ll see you soon, baby,” he agreed and threw his bag into the backseat. “I love you.”
“I love you,” 
And then he was gone, and you were left alone on the sidewalk.
-
“Hey, good to have you back, man,” Vinny greeted as Anakin stumbled his way onto the bus. “How are you doing?”
Anakin laughed as he set his bag down onto the floor before laying down on the couch. He wasn’t ready to get into his bunk since the last time he was in it he was with you. “I’m fucked,” he admitted and rubbed his face. “I miss her already.”
Vinny nodded from his place at the small table. “You’ll be fine. Both of you will be fine,” he assured Anakin as he scrolled through his phone. “Hey, did Liz send you those pics from last night?”
Anakin furrowed his brows as he pulled out his phone. “I don’t know, I’ve barely used my phone today,”
“Check your email,” Vinny suggested as he leaned back against the chair. 
Scrolling through various emails and spam alerts, Anakin came to the conclusion that Liz hadn’t sent him anything. “I don’t see them,” he muttered as he looked one last time. 
“Really? Weird,” Vinny mumbled. “She sent them to Theo and I.”
Anakin narrowed his eyes as he opened his Instagram app to see if she posted them onto her account. It was then when he saw that she had messaged him on it, and he clicked on the chat without thinking much of it. 
Liz had actually sent him the pictures, but through Instagram DM’s and not through email like she did for the other guys. He scrolled through the multitude of photos with a small smile on his lips that quickly disappeared as he read the message she sent with them.
Here are the shots from London! Gotta admit, you look good on camera, but even better off ;) Can’t wait for the other locations! See you tomorrow night. 
He read it over a few times before glancing up at Vinny. “Hey, Vin?” He called, hearing his friend hum in response. “Did Liz say anything in her email? Or did she just send the pictures?”
Vinny looked in thought for a second. “Did she say anything? Like what?”
“I don’t know, like….flirty?” Was she flirting with him? He couldn’t tell if that’s what it was or if that was just her personality.
“No,” Vinny laughed, suddenly giving him his full attention. “Why? She sent you something flirty?”
Anakin shrugged as he skimmed over the message again. “No, but she seems kinda….forward,” 
“That’s good, no?” Vinny asked as he stood up. “I take it she did send the pictures to you, then?”
“Yeah, through Instagram,”
Vinny looked a tad confused as he stared down at Anakin. “That’s a weird way to get them to you, but at least you have them now,” he offered before wandering off towards the back of the bus. 
“Yeah,” Anakin trailed off, knowing that Vinny wouldn’t have been able to hear him. He wasn’t sure how to respond to Liz, and debated on whether or not he should even respond at all if she was actually flirting with him, but then decided that he must be a bit sensitive to everything at the moment since he was already hundreds of miles away from you, and he missed you a lot.
So, he typed out a “Thanks, they look awesome,” and topped it off with a thumbs up emoji before pocketing his phone and burying his face against the armrest of the couch.
178 notes · View notes
bluebayousblog · 8 months
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RUMOR HAS IT (pt. 12)
(Drew Starkey one-shot)
This is not a full on story but if you want more l'll be happy to add on upon request
Plot: in which drew and isobel address a false rumor in the most abstract of ways
Setting: post business cocktail
Disclaimer: Isobel is an OC, 18+
Table of Contents:
PART ELEVEN
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“I’m yours.”
Isobel repeated the sentiment as her soft lips moved from his to press against the skin below his jaw. He sagged into her at the feeling of her brushing his skin with her mouth. Her words made his entire body tremble in satisfaction, and there was nothing he could do to stop the groans from rumbling out of his throat, not with her lips on his body.
Two words could mean so much, those two words that she was whispering with every kiss she left meant so much. They made him feel whole and satisfied, yet somewhat terrified that the person that could make him feel so inexplicably fulfilled was laying right there under him—like he found a hidden artifact that he wasn’t supposed to.
Just for tonight he wanted to pretend as if Isobel was his to keep, to hold, to protect, to feel these confusing feelings towards—because when he thought of her as his they made sense in his head.
Isobel bent her left leg so her knee was up in the air and resting against Drew’s hip, swallowing a sigh as his pants brushed against her inner thighs. She loved the feeling of having his wide frame covering her own, his hard body tucked firmly against her with one of his hands gripping her waist at the feeling of her tongue caressing the veins lining his neck.
The sounds coming from her sensual kisses in the silent room went straight to his dick, pulling a low groan from his mouth. He was so shameless with the noises he made, another thing high on the list of what turned her on the most about him. His openness to display how much he wanted her.
“Fuck,” He mumbled, her body was under his but she had all of the control at the moment, especially with that declaration leaving her lips. Her hands were everywhere, rubbing his shoulders, slowly trailing down his chest, her fingers running over every contour and muscle. Isobel hummed in content as her lips lifted to meet his once more.
“Isobel.” Drew sighed into the kiss, satisfaction laced deep in his tone, her stomach twisted at the sound of him calling out to her.
Drew rolled onto his back as her manicured hand pushed his chest, he didn’t even think of what he was doing as his back hit the mattress, he just felt her touch and he fell—that was becoming a familiar feeling with Isobel. She chased his mouth when his head hit the pillow, reconnecting their lips and wrapping her arms around his neck. Isobel licked his bottom lip with her tongue and tasted the strawberry flavor from her lip mask she put on after her shower. His mouth opened at the feeling and then they were tasting each other.
She knew they should probably pull away before things got too heated—before they got in too deep—but with Isobel and Drew all it took was the smallest act of affection and they were already forgetting all inhibitions. Kissing felt so intimate with Drew, in a way that made her feel as if she was baring every inch of her being to him. It made her feel needy and desperate for him to take her and stick his tongue further down her throat, to squeeze the fat of her behind in his rough fingers a little tighter, and to pull her further against his hard body while wrapping an arm around her waist with a groan to show her how much he needed her too.
That should be enough for her, knowing that he desires her physically because that’s how things were supposed to be between them, but still her wandering mind longed to hear Drew backup his sudden interest in her, “Tell me why you want me, Drew.”
He hummed in question against her lips, the vibration from the sound tickling her face as she disconnected their mouths. Drew stared at her in a trance as his tinted blue eyes watched her pointer finger trace her lips.
“Tell me why I’m yours tonight.” Isobel reiterated as she sat up on his lap, ignoring the way his belt buckle was pressing in between her legs and the tent in his slacks swelling up against her ass. She always ignored the feeling of his arousal when she felt it brushing against her when they were in bed, she had to because if she gave it attention she wouldn’t be able to leave it alone—to leave Drew alone.
Drew was choking, struggling to catch his breath as he felt her ass grazing the hard-on he was pitching in his pants just from a little tongue kissing. Kissing always got him somewhat turned on, it was always a good start, but with Isobel everything was different. The smallest form of foreplay when it came to the beautiful woman staring down at waiting for his next words got him harder than he’d ever been. It was a mind fuck and the reason he was always so eager to put distance between the two because he honestly didn’t know how his body would react whenever they took that next step.
“You’ve always been mine in someway, Isobel.” Drew rasped in response, he stared directly into her chocolate brown eyes and it seemed as if that connection pulled the emotions out of his mouth he’d been burying deep in his chest, “Mine to protect, mine to annoy, and mine to take care of.”
It was moments like this that she hated she knew Drew, that she had been around him long enough to pick up on his cues because when he ended a sentence with her name she knew he was being serious, and that for him she would be his not just for tonight but for the days following so long that he remained interested. She also hated that the knowledge of knowing he could be harboring those feelings calmed her nerves, so much so that things potentially going south between them wasn’t something she could convince herself to dwell on because for some reason with him she felt safe.
Isobel noticed he was always so willing to express what he could promise to her, but what he needed or expected from her always remained floating in his blue eyes in unspoken emotion. That look in his eyes when he so openly admired her always unsettled her in fear she wouldn’t live up to that idea he’d formed of her in his head, but she’d be selfish to not to try to fulfill those perceptions of herself for him. And she would never know if she couldn’t live up to them if she ran from him.
“Don’t you want me to ever take care of you?” She asked in a small voice. Isobel had given herself to a man and spread herself thin to fulfill all of his desires but it wasn’t enough—she wasn’t enough to keep him interested in only her.
It was scary for her to offer that part of herself up to someone again, but there was something about Drew that just made her want to give and offer herself up for his taking. He just made her feel a slither of hope that he wouldn’t throw her efforts back in her face.
“You can do anything you want with me, baby, I just need you in ways I can’t put into words.” Drew began and she was hanging onto his every word like everything he divulged could potentially widen that slither of light she had thawing her chest into a beaming ray, “I look at you and it’s enough, anything else you give me makes me feel like the luckiest guy alive.”
Isobel’s mouth spread into a toothy grin, her cheeks red at his words, and Drew couldn’t help but melt further into the bed at the devastating sight. She was gorgeous when she showed her happiness—that wasn’t the sad aspect of it all—it was how easily his heart was tuning itself to beat just for her. It was uncomfortable to have the breath stolen so quickly from your lungs like his heart had skipped a few beats at how fast he seemed to be falling.
“You know I can see why you have so many girls falling for you back at school, Drew.” Isobel noted with a smaller amused smile playing at her lips, “You’re a sweet talker.”
Drew couldn’t even form a face in his head of any of the girls he’d entertained on campus, not when she was effortlessly destroying the standard of women his brain had developed over the last twenty two years. When he thought of women and beauty, intimacy and longing, and stability and the future his mind now drifted to Isobel, “Are you saying you’re falling for me, Izzy Bear?”
“No! that would be absurd, it’s only been two weeks.” She denied a bit too quickly for her liking, and the amused look that formed in his eyes annoyed her beyond lengths. It wasn’t him thinking that he could make her fall for him just like all the girls that unnerved her, it was the possibility that him thinking such would put him off.
Two weeks, Drew thought to himself that’s all it had taken for the monsoon of feelings to embed themselves into his head and deep in his chest. And it wasn’t the end, it didn’t feel that way in the slightest, everything with Isobel felt like the beginning of a lovely demise of who he used to be. It had been so much longer than two weeks, they both knew that, but realizing the big picture of it all—of Isobel and Drew—was hard to do in such little time.
“Yeah, that would just be insane.” He agreed, it felt like the right thing to say in the moment, but it didn’t feel that way when he actually heard the words leave his lips. If feeling for Isobel was wrong he would proudly be labeled as a maniac. These emotions were new for him, but Drew had been feeling for Isobel for years, sure they were untapped or dormant in a sense but still they were there.
And now they were hitting him all at once.
Silence overtook the two for about a minute as they gazed at each other. There was so much intensity in the silence as if everything they were withholding was being leaked in the absence of their words. That heavy look he was giving her made heat swarm her gut, it was dangerous how Drew’s bare minimum could affect her.
Drew thickly swallowed when Isobel leaned towards him, pressing her bra less chest that was covered in a thin tee into his and placing a glossy kiss onto his left ear. As expected the simple touch pulled a groan out of him, his arm slinging over the back of her waist and harshly gripping the fabric covering her skin. Her lips then began to move as she let her tongue slip out to slowly trace the she shell of his ear in torturous strike of the sensitive skin. She smiled at the small moan he gave her, and she knew he felt her amusement from the pinch he gave the side of her ass. She giggled in his ear and he grunted before suddenly pressing his hips up in between legs against her heat and now she was the one gasping for air.
Isobel was immobile for a few seconds as he continuously began to slowly roll his hips into her dampening cunt. Drew had stolen the control with his arm locked tightly around her waist, forcing her hips to stay pressed into him as he used his hips to grind against her, “Fuck, baby.” He mumbled, his eyes left hers as he looked down and watched the connected parts of their bodies rub against each other. Isobel yelped when one of his big hands roughly squeezed her ass cheek during his distracted glance, the skimpy pajama shorts she was wearing not leaving much to the imagination.
Somewhat pulling herself out of the pleasure of feeling his erection and the fabric of his pants rubbing against her, she continued her ministrations on his ear as she sucked the lobe in her mouth and bit the skin, “Shit, what are you doing to me, Is.” He grunted out.
“I’m going to take care of you.” Isobel whispered into his ear. Her tone sounded womanly, there was finality yet a sense of open-endedness in her statement like it applied to more than just tonight and it warmed his chest.
Her lips found his once more, leaving a noisy peck to which he tried to prolong into a passionate kiss, but she’d already moved onto the center of his throat as she left kisses down the column of his neck. The lower her mouth traveled the more her back began to arch and the view he got of her full ass perched into the air made his dick throb between his legs—he was fucked.
Isobel’s lips got to the top of his chest and glanced up to see his eyes were closed, the girl took the opportunity to slip one of the glossy buttons on his shirt out of the hole revealing more of his built chest to her, “Isobel.”
Her eyes shot back up to his at the warning tone in his voice, his eyelids were back open but he kept them trained on the ceiling above them. She rolled her eyes at his obvious weariness, but it made the arousal grow in her belly at the authority he always attempted to exert over her.
“I only undid one button, I just needed a little more room.” She lied through her teeth, she would’ve undone more if he hadn’t objected, actually his shirt would’ve been ripped open as soon as he walked in her room if they weren’t expecting her parents eventual arrival.
So Isobel made due with what she had, covering the revealed skin under his button-up with her sweet kisses as he laid there and relaxed above her with his large arms now resting behind his head. After kissing and nipping at what she could get to above his shirt she continued on to his fabric covered chest, her lips dragged down his sternum before pausing and his eyes snapped down to hers at her lack of movements. She made sure his eyes remained on her as she moved to press a wet kiss over his right nipple, suppressing a giggle when she saw the gulp he took while watching her tongue trace the hidden skin in teasing circles.
Drew couldn’t speak, he’d made a mistake of looking at her in this state, she was sin the flesh, every dirty fantasy he’d conjured up in his dreams there before him with her ass swaying in the air. His eyes on her lewd actions seemed to make her speed up her descent as she skipped over his lower stomach, causing her breast to lie on his arousal. There was mischief in her dark eyes, there always was when they were in a position like this, but he always registered it far too late because in one moment she was giving him an innocent smile and the next she was untucking his shirt from his pants as she slipped the hem up past his abs. She glanced down at the muscles for a moment, but looked back up to Drew for second before making anymore movements, “It won’t take you anytime to tuck in your shirt again right?”
“No, you’re good, Is.” He smirked, he was fucking smirking and enjoying her little games and it lit her blood aflame and encouraged her to keep trying her luck.
Isobel’s lips found the skin of his lower stomach, loving the way his body twitched underneath her and the never ending groans escaping him. The sounds he made were driving her insane, and the feeling of his eyes watching only drove her to want to give him more. She’d given his ears and neck copious amounts of her attention, but the closer she got to what she truly craved—to what she knew he was trying to convince himself he didn’t need—she was losing her patience.
She flattened her tongue on the trail of skin leading to the button of his pants, reaching between their bodies to undo the buckle of his leather belt, “Are you gonna let me do this for you, Drew?” She asked as she slowly began to pull the belt out one of loops so she could get to the buckle to unlatch it.
Drew couldn’t think of one excuse to get Isobel off his dick not even the fact that her parents could be on the way was deterring him in the slightest thanks to the arousal clouding his judgement, he wanted this and he could only deny her so many times—it truly was up to her at this point.
“You’re asking to put my dick in your mouth, Princess?” His voice was low, a complete contrast to how his body was internally reacting to all of this, like this was his first time with a woman, and in a sense the notion kind of held some sort of truth to it. His heart rate doubled when she nodded with those dark eyes trained on his own, but he needed more than that, “Use your words, baby.”
“Yes, Drew, I want it.” Isobel pouted, eager to get his pants unzipped and finally see him. She knew he was well-endowed from the numerous times she’d felt him against her the past couple of weeks, but this would be her first time seeing his dick in the flesh.
Drew reached down and took over, unfastening his belt while Isobel watched his large hands work and eventually unbutton and drag down the zipper of his pants. He brought just one of his hands back up to rest behind his head, and she took that as a cue to work his pants down his hips, not pulling them past his mid thighs. Before she could remove his black boxers his hand moved to his dick and squeezed the thick flesh right in front of her face, cursing to himself at the pleasure that shot up his spine, “I might cum fast, Isobel.” He stuttered before removing his hand and bringing it up to run his fingers through her thick hair as he watched her grab the band of his boxers just enough for his cock to slip out and fall toward his stomach with a heavy slap.
When Isobel was scared of things her mouth usually dried from the anxiety pooling in her belly, but as her eyes scanned over the unnerving size of his dick, saliva threatened to fall from her lips. Her mind blanked, completely forgetting what he’d just said to her a second ago. She could only focus on his member in front of her and his hands in her hair.
When she leaned down and flattened her tongue against his leaking tip his movements froze and his fingers squeezed the hair threaded between them as his entire body convulsed. Above her Drew released a groan that could be mistaken for someone being tortured but she continued.
Isobel spit on his dick, her eyes heavy with pleasure trained on his own hooded ones as her saliva slowly dripped onto his throbbing skin, and only did she divert her attention away from his heated gaze when it began to run down the base. She then wrapped her lips around him as she began to work the warm length of the velvety skin into her desperate mouth. She moaned at the feeling of him being inside of her with the wetness of her mouth encasing him and his hand shot up to his head as she looked to see him running it through his dark, buzzed hair, “Fuck, Izzy.”
She was practically dripping wet in her underwear at his exasperated reactions to her, nothing turned her on more to than seeing him display his desire. It was a paradigm, as if he had no control of how she was making him feel but also just natural instinct. She gave up on trying to get him to the back of throat figuring she would get there eventually, Drew wasn’t overly big he was just bigger than what she was accustomed to. She wrapped a hand around the base to jerk the part of him she couldn’t reach as she fucked her mouth over the expanse of him that she could.
“Baby, that’s too fucking good—you’re too good for me.” He moaned while also finding a moment to compliment her in way that mattered, in a way that went straight to her heart.
She hummed deeply around him and his words of endearment turned into mindless babbles. Slowly she was able to get him further down her throat and use less of her hand as only her thumb and pointer finger was wrapped around him, but she still needed that final push, “Push it more into my mouth, Drew.” She whined when she removed her mouth to catch her breath.
“You’re going to make me cum, baby.” He hesitated, his voice shaking from the pleasure she was giving him.
Isobel rolled her eyes at his delay, “That’s the point, Drew.”
He still looked hesitant to proceed as he stared down at her, so she took matters into her own hands. Isobel placed her mouth back onto his angry looking dick, taking him as far as she could and reached down to his balls to massage them in her hand, the groan he let out sounded inhumane as he roared her name. His hips snapped up into her mouth, and she got exactly what she wanted. The room was quiet save for his sporadic moaning and the slick sounds of him fucking his dick into her mouth as his hips rose and fell in swift movements.
There was one particular thrust that had Isobel sputtering when one of his hands returned to her head and held her in place as her nose grazed his skin and his tip pushed deep in her throat as she loudly gagged around him, “Fuck, I’m cumming.” He chanted.
He continued to repeat the words when she pulled back to take control and moved her mouth to his tip and used her hand to bring him to his climax. His dick never left her mouth when she felt him twitch, letting ropes of cum spurt inside of her as she used the extra lubrication to help her lips move swiftly up and down his dick, “Shit, Isobel.” Drew dragged out in a groan that could also be taken for a whine when she stopped sucking and began to clean his cum off his dick with her tongue and swallowed every drop of it.
Drew’s orgasm hit him like a strike of lightning shooting down his body as his back stiffened and his toes curled tightly in immobilizing pleasure. He hadn’t came like that since the night with Isobel in his truck, and it was safe to say that the energy depleting orgasms she was capable of giving him weren’t one hit wonders.
“You came so fast.” Isobel smiled, moving back up to face him and hugging his neck. Everything he did had her pathetically obsessing over the man and him cumming in her mouth was another bullet on the list, “Did I do good for you, Drew?”
“Yes, Izzy, you just made cum like I’ve never gotten my dick sucked before.” He was still trying to catch his breath as he spoke, but even as he tried to recollect himself she could sense he was somewhat embarrassed.
She refrained from smiling not wanting him to think she was finding amusement in his insecurity about what just happened. Isobel just marveled in the realization that this was new for him—the way he felt for her wasn’t comparable to anyone he’d been with before. The thought of alone made her vibrate with want for him as she laid against his heaving chest.
“I thought it was sexy, I’m the only girl who gets you like this?” She questioned the breathless man in a sweet tone.
He was now giving her an amused smirk as he lifted his hips to help her blindly pull his pants up after she reached down to tuck his semi-hard dick back into his underwear, and he loved the way her delicate hands handled him with familiarity, like he belonged to her. He let her get as far as pulling up his zipper before turning their bodies to the side and pressing her lips to his own, “You’re nasty, Isobel.” He mumbled against her mouth with all intentions to shift the attention to her, then the sound of incremental buzzing filled the air from across the room on her coat rack, he barely heard the sound in between the smacking of their lips but it was there.
“How long has that been going off?” Drew panicked, letting go of her waist causing her to fall onto the mattress as he got up and stalked over to his jacket she hung up earlier.
He hadn’t gotten there in time to accept the call, but when he scanned his notifications there were four missed calls—three from Chandler, and the most recent from his father. Hidden in between some of the missed call notifications were messages from Chandler informing him of Charles’ impending arrival.
“Isobel, Charles is about to be here.” He explained in a hurry, walking back over to slip his dress shoes back onto his feet.
Isobel instantly hopped out of the bed, and rushed over to him in a haste. When he leaned back up from tying his laces she yanked him towards her by his belt loops and tucked his shirt back into his pants and fastened his belt.
Drew could even get a word out before she was shoving his blazer in his arms and pushing him towards the door. She’d gifted him with a life altering orgasm and now she was rushing him out of her room, he couldn’t help but chuckle to himself at the thought of it.
“Wait!” She called out, he had just slightly pulled her bedroom door ajar before she reached from behind him to slam it back close.
Isobel moved to stand in the small space between the front of his body and the wooden barrier and reached up to swipe her thumb across his lips that were shining from her sticky lip mask transferring onto them.
Drew absolutely loved when she did that.
“What would I do without you?” Drew heard heard an engine outside the house reminding him of their predicament, but still couldn’t help but lean down to softly press a gentle kiss to her cheek before backing out of her room and twisting towards the stairs.
Drew jogged down the stairs while looking at his phone with the intention to return his father’s call, but before he could even press the contact the handle of the front door twisted as the door pushed open to reveal an annoyed looking Charles, “You coming from upstairs?”
“Yeah, I was just telling Isobel I was leaving after Chandler let me know you were coming.” The lie thankfully came easy to him, but he struggled not to stumble over his words with what had really been going on up there fresh on his mind.
Charles gave him that familiar hum laced with an octave of suspicion, but he left it alone as always. He never pushed or pried, he just made sure that Drew knew in the most vague way that he doubted his word, “Alright, let’s head home.”
“Wait, where’s Cooper and Lora?” Drew asked, he hated he was leaving Isobel alone when she’d expressed to him that’s the last thing she wanted to be after what happened at the cocktail. When his father turned his head to glance behind him and sighed in what looked to be pity, the reason for Drew asking was painstakingly obvious.
“They’ll be here in a few minutes, Richard had to grab some things before they left.” Charles answered while wrapping an arm around Drew’s shoulder so the two could exit the door together. Sure it was stiff and sort of felt second nature to the father and son, but still he felt a sense of support.
They didn’t talk on the car ride home, their house was not too far from the Cooper’s, but the silence felt thick with tension making the ride feel far longer than a few minutes. When Charles pulled into the driveway and put the car in the park he made no movements to get out, he just sat there and stared down at the wheel. Drew awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck at his father’s weird behavior. Eventually the younger Starkey reached to unbuckle his seatbelt, and as if the click of the buckle was a trigger Charles turned his neck to glance at him with a complicated look.
“Remember when you charged that kid for targeting your teammate that one game your senior year? I remember it like yesterday—that look of determination in your eyes as you marched over there.” His father’s eyes softened as the memory seemed to be playing out in his head, “I see that same look in your eyes when you entertain the idea of working at C&S, it’s minor but it’s there.”
Drew’s mind drifted to all those years of baseball he played, he definitely missed the sport, but most of all he missed the camaraderie that came with having teammates. He was the team captain his last year of high school, the one who was supposed to lead by example, but if someone was fucking with someone on his team he didn’t have a problem getting tastefully violent to get his point across. It gotten him some violations, but he never got in trouble for it, not by his coach and interestingly enough never by his father. The man who loved to critique his every move and to ensure his every action was made in favor of his future never had anything to say in those moments.
Charles continued despite Drew’s silence as if he expected it, “But today it was full blown, just like that day on the field all those years ago.”
His eyes snapped to his father’s at his reference to having to stop Drew from tearing through the crowd at the ballroom and putting his hands on that man who dared to touch Isobel. Though, tonight was different than baseball because he wasn’t defending some friend on his baseball team, he was fighting for Isobel, and he didn’t know himself the lengths he would go to protect her.
There was no question that Charles had caught on to what was going on with him and Isobel, but Drew wouldn’t be the first to say it aloud, so he bit his tongue.
“I can’t tell you who you can be with but I can advise you, if you do not believe you are man enough for her then end it, but from my perspective it looks like the damage has already been done.” He went on with a sigh of indifference as if he’d already accepted there was nothing he could do about it.
“Why do you have to say it like that—like if I touch her she’ll burn.” Drew’s tone was incredulous, he hated that Charles’ input could so easily work up that amount of emotion within him.
Charles eyes twinkled as he gave his son a once over. That look of understanding from earlier present in that glint of light.
“You’re the one who’s been burned, Son, but in regards to Isobel I don’t think ‘burn’ is the right word—I don’t blame you, though, I’ll never fault you for shooting for the stars.”
TABLE OF CONTENTS
PART 13
168 notes · View notes
essycogany · 2 months
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Hot Take! Nine’s Redemption Arc Was Rushed
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I’m usually positive on this blog, but I believe it’s important to have a balance. This’ll be my longest post yet, so buckle your seatbelts. It’s going to be a bumpy ride.
Quick Positive Points
I like the idea of an antagonistic Tails. Nine’s amazingly voiced by a VA I recognize. His design is awesome. His attitude and sarcasm can be entertaining. Nine saving Sonic’s skin when dealing with the Chaos Council was nice. The scene with Nine and Mr.Doctor Eggman talking about Sonic is one of my favorite moments. The thought of creating robots who look like the other characters as if Nine still wanted friends was neat. (even if he tried to kill with them) And despite my grievances, I thought Nine’s hug with Sonic at the end was adorable. The animation is what helped with that.
Introduction
While I do like Nine, I’m going to talk about my glaring issues with his character development. I can see both sides of the argument, but let me tell you why there’s more proof of Nine not being well written. I will implore you to think for yourselves regardless of what I have to say. We all have our opinions and I’m only here to share mine.
Nine’s Characterization
This is how the fox carry himself throughout the show and why most of it isn’t written well. I’ll state my issues with Sonic in certain moments too.
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Season One
Nine’s reasonably defensive at first when Sonic came to his home out of nowhere. He became annoyed by Sonic’s immaturity yet concerned for him once they’re captured. After they meet the Rebels, his sassiness begins to show. Replying “You’re welcome,” after saving Sonic by taking control of Rusty. Having a direct and harsh tone when advising others to take the Chaos Council’s shard. And not seeming to care about the rest of the group who gets trapped with Mr. Doctor Eggman.
Nine: “Sonic we have to get to the core!” “You heard her come on!” This I understand because Nine doesn’t know them, so they don’t really matter to him. But then Nine dismisses Sonic’s feelings even after he asked “are you okay?” Because he noticed the hedgehog was a little off.
-Because Sonic started remembering the events that happened to him before he broke the Paradox Prism.
After Sonic realized the prism shattering was his fault Nine says, “Snap back to reality! Grab that shard and we’ll sort the rest out later!” Then when Sonic stated the original Tails told him not to touch it Nine states, “Well, I’m telling you the opposite! Now grab it and let’s go!” Not realizing if Sonic is the reason for the prism being small, his original variant might’ve known touching it was a bad idea. I also can’t forget about these lines.
Sonic: “If there’s anyone who’s got the brains to put it all back together, it’s you.” Nine: “That’s the first thing you’ve said that I agree with.” Nice ego for a person who ends up getting Sonic sucked up by the prism after being warned. Back to what I was saying before, Nine seems to only care about stealing the shard away from the Eggmen here. Which is proven later on in season one. His care for Sonic has progressed, but Sonic learns from the Rebels that Nine abandoned them. And it’s never addressed by Sonic.
-Sonic also insist Nine’s “not a traitor” without any proof. Sonic hasn’t known Nine that long. The last time Sonic saw the fox, he ended up getting the hedgehog sucked into another shatterspace. Unless Sonic’s talking about Nine working with the group. But I’d argue it was more for Sonic and his own sake. Especially since Nine left the Rebels and Rusty at the drop of a hat.
When Nine comes to help Sonic, he shows off the Grim and discuss how it’s “Their bright new future.” Wanting to live in the Grim with Sonic. Even after the last time he saw Sonic, Nine knew how distraught Sonic felt about losing his home. Again, Sonic stated he believed Nine could put the prism back together. Meaning his original friends and world would come back. But Nine immediately assumes Sonic would be happy living with him for the rest of his life. Which is sweet on paper but very messed up in execution. I’ll get into why later. To be fair, Nine’s never had a friend before and was bullied for most of his life. His social skills aren’t the best and he isn’t use to caring about others. But even if Nine didn’t understand empathy, he has no reason to believe Sonic would forget about his home just because Nine didn’t care about his.
Nine: “That city hasn’t brought me anything but misery. I owe it nothing.” He hasn’t been around Sonic for long either, but Sonic’s demonstrated his loyalty before. By worrying about the Rebels instead of the shard while Nine did vise versa. Anyways, Sonic explains he needs to save the Rebels. Nine being Nine didn’t care about them, but came to help anyways because he “cared about Sonic.” I’d say Nine only helped because he thought Sonic would join him after getting the other shards, but that’s my opinion.
Nine: “With enough fortifications and enough shard energy, this could be home.” Because of this line, I believe he already knew about the other shards before Sonic. Which is also why he knew what Sonic was doing in season two. He also says, “When this is over, I’m going home and never looking back. Whether I go it alone is entirely up to you.” Still assuming things.
-Sonic doesn’t give Nine an answer for some reason. Only responding with “I knew you’d come back, buddy.” Projecting how he’d expect Tails to act. Which becomes a serious problem later.
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Season Two
Throughout this season, Nine helped Sonic collect the shards. Which was a bonus to keep developing the Grim.
-Sonic and the Rebels have another debate on trusting Nine. At least this time when Sonic says “He saved you,” it’s true. Nine took down the Doctors before Sonic and co got killed. I’d still argue it was for Sonic, but Nine still saved their lives despite his intentions.
I’ll also admit when Mr.Doc used Nine, it was reasonable for him to feel as if he had no choice. He even apologizes to Sonic. We even learn how Nine first fount the Grim and see him make a hammock for Sonic. But the positives goes down hill once we get into the shard chase between Nine, Sonic, and the villains. Once away from the Docs Sonic stated, “Oh, things are finally coming together. We’ve got the shards! We can finally fix everything!” He’s still obviously talking about Green Hill and his friends. But Nine doesn’t notice this. Instead he says, “It’s going to be perfect.” Very specific you two. Nine seems to suddenly believe Sonic changed his mind and Sonic still thinks Nine and Tails are one and the same.
Dude even calls the fox “Tails Nine,” while introducing him to another character. What are the odds? Later on Nine says, “If you like surprises, wait until you see what I’ve got going on in the Grim.” Sonic responds with, “Grim? Cool. Can’t wait to here more. But right now, we’ve gotta get to Ghost Hill.” Talking as if if the Grim was an afterthought. Then the two talk about bringing the prism back together without knowing what the other’s thoughts were behind it.
Even if they didn’t have time to discuss things, I think they should’ve explained something to each other during the chase or before Sonic left to help the Rebels in S1. That way the unfortunate occurrence could’ve been avoided later on, but we’ll cross that bridge soon enough. Anyways, after the goose chase, they meet up with Shadow, who reasonably doesn’t trust Nine.
-The Blue blur defended the fox again with his projecting his friends onto strangers self. It’s also weird how often this dude doesn’t listen to anyone while also wondering why no one won’t listen to him.
After Nine put one of the shards back together and it brought everything back for a split second. Sonic: “Reality was flipping out over here.” “Green Hill was back and so were my friends.” Which must’ve went in and out of Nine’s ears because this show has no time for the characters to communicate properly. Instead of listening, Nine interrupts the hedgehog and shenanigans ensues.
After said shenanigans, another argument scene happens. Except somehow, it’s worsts then the last. I’ll criticize both characters. I want to address the “Sonic projecting” discussion first. I know people think Sonic’s wrong for doing it (he is) but I believe he’s doing it as a coping mechanism. Since his friends are replaced by ghost who repeat themselves and a bunch strangers who look like them, he might not be able to help it. I give him a bit of slack because we all know what he’s been through. Prime!Sonic is also a very sincere version of Sonic who instantly feels guilt. Even if he doesn’t completely understand what he did wrong.
For example, in the first episode, Tails didn’t tell Sonic why he was upset with him. He just said, “It’s cool really.” Tails brushes things off instead of discussing them. I can see where Sonic is coming from. What I won’t excuse is Sonic having a terrible amount of trust in Nine. I’ll discuss this in S3’s issues. And the rest I’ll summon up to Sonic never addressing problems which might’ve needed to be addressed. Like Green Hill almost coming back and other stuff I’ve already mentioned. Onto the fox. This argument might be a great time for Nine to explain what his plans are instead of saying, “We’re not making your old world. We’re building a better one.” Implying Sonic’s original world is inferior and he should deal with it being gone.
When Sonic says, “I think we can get it back.” Nine responds with, “You’re wrong about that.” Despite Sonic in the same episode said minutes before, “Green Hill was back and so were my friends.” Did the fox forget? Is he lying? Or does he not care? I’ll go with the writers forgetting about this line since it never gets mentioned again. Which seems to be a trope in this show. I understand Sonic’s done plenty of wrong when it comes to Nine as well, but I don’t see how Sonic wanting to fix the problem he made in the first place as selfish. Especially since Sonic’s not the only one who wants Green Hill back. Shadow’s dealing with the consequences too.
The “what’ll happen to me when you bring your friends back,” issue is never explored. There’s no confirmation on what happens, so this comment basically means nothing. Also, Sonic living with Nine forever is messed up. It implies Sonic and Shadow never going home. And their friends would stay ghost forever. Dead to be specific. Not to mention Nine’s home would be a copy of what Sonic use to have. You’re telling me Sonic The Hedgehog would allow his freedom to end because of a self centered fox who wouldn’t care if he wanted to go home? I could continue, but I’ll stop here. In the end, Sonic and Nine were both wrong. You could argue Sonic never said “no” to staying with Nine, but Sonic saying in S1,”It’s not going anywhere,” was all Nine needed to hear. Sonic thinking Nine would love Tails and discussing Green Hill was prominent when talking to Nine before getting to Ghost Hill too. Dude was completely set on getting home and he wasn’t subtle about it.
To be fair again, Nine hasn’t been in enough good relationships to know who to trust Then finds someone he thinks he can trust. Then gets treated like a reflection of someone else instead of a different person entirely. This goes to show I actually don’t hate the idea of the miscommunication. I only feel the show doesn’t give them enough time to breathe and only focuses on rushing the plot. Therefore having contradictions and forced conflicts.
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Season 3
Nine’s first statement in this season is, “This could’ve been everything he ever wanted.” I wish Sonic had a moment to explain why creating a new world is a nice but bad idea. That way Nine could get a better understanding of how close Sonic is to his home and friends. Giving it a sense of importance.He could choose to stay selfish or to be reasonable.Nine tries to capture Sonic in order to get his shard energy throughout S3. In the next scene Shadow says, “So, it was all about power?” (Shadow is the MVP of this entire show) Then Sonic defends Nine for the millionth time.
Sonic: “No, that’s not…” Nine: “Exactly!” Wonderful.
Moving on. Sonic tries to reason with Nine again. Nine: “You were only using me to get what you wanted.” Sonic: “That’s not true.” The hedgehog doesn’t elaborate before or after this conversation. I love how the two barely have a coherent conversation. It’s honestly my favorite thing in the world.
-Sonic tells Shadow if reasoning with Nine doesn’t work, he’ll be “their’s.” Probably implying they’ll have to hurt or kill Nine if necessary. Then Sonic never fallows through with it and doesn’t actually fight Nine. Sonic only uses his shield powers or tries to convince others not to hurt the fox.
After that Nine tries to attack both hedgehogs with a robot copy of Sonic and states, “This time, you’re on your own.” Shadow: “He’s not on his own” Nine: “We’re all on our own.” Describing his perception on loyalty is a detail I actually like.
Later in the season Nine tries to disrupt the bystanders worlds to get Sonic, so they disrupt their agreement. Nine attempts to kill them again and wonders why they wanted to protect Sonic. Almost as if Sonic has been helping them since the fox met him or something.
After constant fighting and begging on Sonic’s part, he tells Nine to, “LOOK OUTSIDE!” And that’s when Nine at last sees the shatterverse breaking and realizes what he’s done. All of this mess lasted 7 episodes by the way. The big fight took up 6 of them. Nine knew beforehand the shatterverse was ending and it didn’t phase him as long as his world was safe. Now he suddenly he feels guilty?
Sonic apologizes because he didn’t listen to what Nine wanted. Or appreciate what he was trying to do. This is Sonic’s words not mine. Nine doesn’t apologize for trying to kill everyone, but to Sonic instead. Sonic asked everyone to leave Nine alone. And asked Nine to not cause anymore trouble. Knucks: “How can we trust him?” Nine: “You can trust me.” Outstanding dialogue. Plot needs to occur, so we’ll skip the part where Nine and everyone else gains trust in a none forced way. Great.
Nine finally helps Sonic even if those problems could’ve been avoided a few episodes earlier and say their goodbyes. The End.
I hate how Sonic had to apologize to Nine about wanting to go home. It’s absolutely unfair. Then Nine doesn’t apologize to everyone else for the havoc he’s caused. What I believe Sonic should’ve apologized for was treating Nine like Tails, but it never gets brought up. But my biggest issue is the only way Sonic called out Nine on his actions was by saying, “This isn’t you!” “Don’t do this!” “I care about all of this. You, the shatterverse, and everyone inside of it. I know you do to.” The last bit being a huge lie.
I don’t make these kind of comparisons often, but Game!Sonic would have everything nipped in the bud. I’d assume by telling Nine, “What you’re doing is wrong. This is why it’s wrong. If you don’t quit, I’ll do everything in my power to make you quit.” He’d understand Nine needed to be stoped and act accordingly. I’d assume everyone would have to make him surrender and he’d be force to fix everything. No, it doesn’t reform him, but I wouldn’t have minded if he didn’t get reformed because sometimes you can’t change people. This might not have been the perfect solution, but I tried. Yes, Nine is a child who was treated terribly, but it shouldn’t excuse his actions.
What’s hilarious is during his last talk with Sonic, he unreasonably guilts the hedgehog and called him selfish. Saying Sonic didn’t save everyone because he actually cared about them. But because Sonic feels guilty about breaking everything from the start. Except Sonic actually admits to messing up which was shown in the third episode of Prime. And took the time to right his wrongs. It’s the most hypocritical and short sided statement in the entire show. And if that wasn’t enough, Nine gets upset when everyone came to attack him. It admittedly was a dumb idea, but Nine made himself the enemy. He didn’t give the gang a reason to trust him before or after his deal with Sonic. Yes, including the end of the show. It made no sense.
Why Nine’s Reformation Was Rushed
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First of all, I’m not saying I don’t like Nine because of his negative traits. That’s the main reason he exists. He’s a antagonistic or I’d even say evil version of Tails. Nine is suppose to be distant, selfish, and such. I simply don’t believe after all he’s done and how his character was established that he suddenly changed into a good guy.
Nine’s focus was on his own pain. As he ignored everyone else’s. Including the one person who saved his life on multiple occasions and who (even if it’s wrong) still tried to stick up for him. Giving off the, “I suffered so everyone else should suffer,” mentality. Then blames Sonic by saying he, “put him into this position.” As if Nine didn’t already make terrible choices before going evil. Sure, the shards could’ve been corrupting him, but it’s never explored and can only be assumed. Which are too different things.
These are obvious toxic/red flag behavior and it never gets properly called out. Things are only fixed because the plot demanded it. Not because there was a natural progression. The only thing that progressed was Nine’s uncaring attitude until it magically fixed itself…at the last minute. And I hate that for him because he deserved better. Sonic deserved better. All of the Sonic Prime characters deserved better. But they all fell into the pit of unsatisfying conclusions.
Side Note: What also bothers me is how Sonic is almost the only character Nine interacts with. No wonder he doesn’t care about anyone else. Nine barely talks to anyone. Like Shadow, the blue blur is the main center of Nine’s attention. At least most of the other characters don’t have the same problem, but it’s still ridiculous.
How The Show Is Flawed In General
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I have more glaring issues with this show. Sonic Prime’s plot almost never stops to breathe. The repetition is unreal. None of the characters (especially the OGs) get enough attention. Some things are both over and under explained simultaneously. There’s reused animations.
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Reused conversations and dialogue are especially prevalent. “This isn’t you, Nine!” “It’s over, Nine.” “Gotta go fast!” “Game over.” “We’re gonna end/fix this together.” “We’re friends.” “Me Beauty.” “We have to take the fight to them.” “You’re even dumber then you look.”
This isn’t half of the repeated lines unfortunately. Some of them aren’t only said by Sonic either. It’s almost as if they ran out of dialogue. I am only scratching the surface of problems, but I won’t go any further. At this point “the show’s writing” is the main issue of Nine’s arc. It’s also why other parts of Prime feels rushed.
Conclusion
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Yeah, I have a love hate relationship with this show. It’s seriously hard to watch sometimes. I know this has been a bummer, but here’s what Sonic Prime does right. I adore Sonic Prime in terms of how it looks and sounds. With the outstanding animation, voice acting, music, editing, and sound design. I’ll even say it’s one of the best looking 3D animated kids TV shows I’ve seen. There’s so much attention to detail and quality of the character facial expressions and movements. Furthermore, when the lighting is really good, it looks near movie levels of quality. Not to mention great writing still exists. All in all, Sonic Prime may not be the best written Sonic show, but it does have the most polished animation. Even with its plethora of flaws and lost potential, I’m glad Prime exists to prove 3D TV shows can look fantastic when given enough care.
Stay Creative! 💜
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cryptidafter · 3 months
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Voyeurism in Playboyy
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First off, I will preface this by saying I am by no means an expert on film and it’s been years since I’ve written an essay so - uh - take that as you will! 
One of the most fascinating elements of Playboyy to me is the overwhelming feeling of being observed. The most obvious way this is achieved is through the use of video. Characters are often recording themselves or other people and those clips are integral to the progression of major story arcs (Captain filming Keen without his consent, the clips of Nant used to investigate his disappearance, etc.) There’s this omnipresent gaze that can’t be hidden from. Someone, somewhere, is always watching. You could be recorded at any moment, your most intimate and personal moments put on display for an unseen audience, and you'd have no idea. 
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TV screens also play into this sense of being watched. There are often TVs on in the background of scenes. Sometimes they’re being used (Captain showing the video he made with Zouey to the rest of the rugby team, another voyeuristic act) but oftentimes they’re simply showing static (Nont has many scenes like this as do Nont and Prom together). The TV acts as a sort of window into the outside world and, in this case, we're the outsiders looking in. These characters are performing for our entertainment and Playboyy doesn't let you forget that.
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Mirrors are another way that Playboyy heightens this sense of being watched. These are often most utilized with Nont as well. Private moments are being “reflected” back both to the character and the viewer. It's a double dose of being looked at. Twice the attention and judgment.
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However, what I really want to touch on are the characters’ sense of being observed by us (the audience) thanks to some really neat camera work and breaking of the fourth-wall. We're voyeurs in our own way, another element that Playboyy plays with and draws our attention to (no, I will not be getting into the overarching theme of being surveilled by society because I'd be here all day).
To start, so we’re all on the same page, some basic definitions of voyeurism and the fourth wall. 
Voyeurism can be described as “the practice of obtaining sexual gratification from observing others” which fits Playboyy in regards to cam work and the sharing of sexually explicit videos (often without the consent of all involved parties). However, the definition I’m most interested in is “the criminal act of surreptitiously viewing a person without their consent in a place where the person has a reasonable expectation of privacy (such as a home or public bathroom) or of using a device (such as a camera) for the purpose of such viewing.” Merriam-Webster
For fourth wall breaks, this video summarizes things pretty well:
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Okay, with that out of the way, I want to get into how Playboyy utilizes fourth wall breaks and specific camera angles to bring the audience directly into the story and heighten the sense of voyeurism. We are as much a part of the mystery as the characters. 
I won’t touch on every single instance of this in the series but a few of my favorite ones (thus far). 
In the beginning of episode 2, we have Prom welcoming us to the Playboyy Lounge. The reason I say “us” is because he is addressing the viewer. We aren’t tailing some nameless, faceless person off the street; Prom’s facing the camera and we’re put in the position of a patron. We are the ones participating, looking at the sex workers who are available, being given the rundown. I think it’s a really fun way of establishing the location and preparing us for what’s in store at Playboyy Lounge in the future. 
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One of my absolute favorite scenes is in episode 6, where the university gang is talking about the best way to get all the suspects together, and the camera is hidden. It’s like the camera has been placed in a closet, left to capture whatever happens behind closed doors. We are given a glimpse into a private conversation that we should not be observing! 
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And then, the university boys all turn to the hidden camera - to us - and Nont says this: 
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Yes, he’s speaking to his friends but he’s also addressing the audience! We're riding along, anxiously awaiting what will be revealed next, passively watching as these characters go through difficult and terrible things. I think it’s a clever utilization of the fourth wall break that still ties into the show’s presentation overall (the characters, most specifically First, are often remarking about how their life isn’t a specific genre of movie or TV show. That’s another little fourth wall break in and of itself, but I digress). 
On to another altered perspective moment that had me screaming: the interrogation scene in episode 12. 
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Nont and Captain are executing their half-baked torture plan and the camera is positioned above, lurking. We’re hiding up in the rafters, watching some very illegal activity going on that - again - we are not supposed to be seeing. We're a captive audience to some truly awful behavior but, hey, we shouldn't be here right? We've chosen to follow the story because we want to know what happens. We're voyeurs! There are also moments where the camera is low to the ground and nearest to a column, giving the illusion that we’re hiding. I just really love how these angles add so much extra tension! 
The final fourth wall break I want to touch on is the rooftop party in episode 6 (you know, the one we sneakily listened to the planning for?). The uni boys (+Nont lol) do a toast and we’re included! They’re looking directly into the camera and raising their cups to us - we, the audience, are in on the plan and now we’re explicitly being invited to see how it unfolds.
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There are more instances (and flavors) of voyeurism and fourth wall breaking but I don’t want this post to get crazy long. (Reiterating that I’m not a professional lol).
I really appreciate all that Playboyy does, not only narratively but stylistically. Each choice that’s made feels deliberate and enhances the story. 
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