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thedarkplume · 2 years

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Husband/One Night Stand/Best Friend and why?

NSFW 18+ Warnings for graphic language, graphic sex, some basic bdsm elements, gratuitous gameplay and jargon, sex work references, bi-sexual, homosexual, and pansexual characters, below the cut.

AN: @georgiapeach30513 this is ultra-late because apparently my Muse would rather lie in bed all day eating ice cream and streaming thirty-two episodes of the Simpsons Treehouse of Horror to avoid deciding whether we’re going to grow old with a bunch of cats or a bunch of dogs…right now the dogs are winning.

This was so hard to answer! All three of these wonderful men have the capacity to be a best friend and husband, and it almost feels like a crime to relegate one of them to a one-night stand. But that’s life sometimes and we have to do what we have to do!

Three Seas💘ns

I’m going to put these in order from easiest to the most difficult.

One Night Stand ~ Curtis Everett

Parties were never your thing. Especially parties thrown by the upper elite who only did it so that they could flaunt their wealth to the lower classes. Still, there was free food and booze, and you promised your best friend that you would at least try going out tonight, reluctantly accepting her invitation to this party as she all but forced you out the door. She had grown tired of you moping over your fuckbuddy breaking it off because he was "growing closer to the girl in the apartment across the hall and had enough respect for you to end things rather than immediately jumping into bed with her." It was more disappointing than hurtful. The two of you were only together for a few months, but you had come to enjoy having someone there to talk to and spend time with, not to mention all the sex. You probably missed that most of all. So, when you saw the gorgeous beanie wearing lumberjack with an axe strapped to his back from across the room, you swallowed the last of your drink and strolled over.

You, in your very subtle Rochelle Zimmerman Catholic school girl costume, absently fiddling with the rosary beads hanging from your neck, notices the way he hangs back, seeming to have no interest in mingling with everyone else. Something about him appeals to you. You’re not exactly drunk, but you’re tipsy enough to give it a shot.

His eyes are on you before you can make it across the room. Had it not been for the liquid courage making you feel like Wonder Woman, you would have turned tail and scampered off under the weight of his heavy stare. He unabashedly tracked your every step and made no moves to hide the way his eyes trailed leisurely down your body.

“Hi!” you chirp with a smile. “Nice costume. Lumberjack, right?”

“Actually, I was hoping I would come across as a homicidal maniac. After all, they look like everyone else, don’t they?” his lips twitched in a grin.

You laughed, realizing he was loosely quoting Wednesday Addams. “Yeah, I guess they do.”

“Let me guess,” he looked you over again, this time moving a little closer to circle you. “The Craft. Rochelle, maybe?”

“That’s right.” You did a little twirl, feeling the hem of your skirt lift slightly. “You’re the only person to guess my costume tonight. Everyone else just thought I was going for the naughty schoolgirl look.”

His blue eyes darkened. He licked his lips, the sight making you clench. “Are you?”

You take a step closer. “I can be.”

The music from the party continues to blast. The moon hangs full in a sky littered with stars. It’s cold out and even the carpet under your knees in the elaborately furnished gazebo and the burning fire-pit does little to prevent the biting chill from seeping through. Your eyes water as the incredibly gorgeous and still unnamed man drives his hard, leaking cock in and out of your mouth. Your mind goes blissfully blank as you take in the scent of Sexy Maniac Lumberjack’s sweat and traces of Old Spice Shea Butter. You were clenching around air, still throbbing, and wet from the gorgeous lumberjack eating you out until you came twice on his mouth and fingers. The sensitive skin of your inner thighs burned pleasantly from the coarse hairs of short goatee. His big hands groped your tits sitting atop your bra cups, teasing your nipples to throbbing hard points.

“Fuck!” he huffed, pulling out of your mouth. “Get up here.” You climbed over the sofa so that your legs were tucked underneath you on the arm and your face was pressed against the cushions. Sexy Maniac Lumberjack stepped behind you, flipping your skirt up, exposing your bright pink thong. “Damn,” he muttered, smacking your ass, and watching it jiggle. You could feel him, the warmth of his leaking tip and the wet coating of your saliva, directly between your cheeks.

Your eyes crossed, an obscene moan tumbling from your lips as he pushed inside of you, stretching you even more than the three fingers he used on you minutes before. From there, it’s frantic and rough. Wet squelching and skin slapping. You tried not to be so loud, the last thing you need are the rich assholes throwing the party catching you getting railed in their gazebo over their pristine sofa, but then his tall body is curving over your back, and you feel his hand creep around your throat.

“You like that, don’t you?” he growled, his nose pressed against your curls. “I feel you clenching. You’re going to come for me?”

You try not to, you really, really try to hold on, but then he’s sucking your earlobe in his mouth, and you come with a scream, toes curling, and nails digging into the plush cushion under your face.

You felt the Sexy Maniac Lumberjack swell inside you briefly before pulling out. In only a moment you felt his warm spend coating your ass. You’re still twitching. Achy. Ready to go again. You felt him press a cloth to your ass, wiping away his seed. He sweetly straightened your thong and flipped your skirt back down. Sexy Maniac Lumberjack had to be the politest fuck you’ve ever had.

“This is where you’ve been all night?”

You wrinkled your nose, recognizing the voice of Kayla’s most annoying and toxic ex. You quickly turned away from the two men, pushing your tits back inside your bra.

“Yeah,” Sexy Maniac Lumberjack answered tersely. “What do you want?”

“Linda’s looking for you.” You felt his eyes on you. “What are you doing here? Where’s Kayla?”

You spin on your heel with a smirk. You never really cared for your best friend's ex. Something about that damn pinkie ring just set your teeth to grind. “She’s on a date. Really nice guy. Nothing at all like her asshole ex who sat idly by while his douchebag friends shamed her for being a sex worker. Never mind that that’s how you met her or that you and your friends each paid her beaucoup amounts for her streams or that said friends still slither into her DMs asking for private shows.” You have nothing but respect for Kayla being brave and confident enough to do whatever she could to support herself when her family wouldn’t. She even let you join her streams a few times when you really needed the money. You shot a glance towards the Sexy Maniac Lumberjack who was centered just so that he stood between you and Ransom. “Don’t tell me you’re friends with him?”

Sexy Maniac Lumberjack grimaced. “Not at all. He’s my brother.”

Oh. Yeah, you could see the resemblance in the eyes. “You have my deepest sympathies,” you say sincerely. “Want to get pancakes?”

His lips twitched in a grin. “I could eat.” He took your hand, leading you away from Ransom, whose face turned an interesting shade of red as he ranted and raved.

“Goddammit, Curtis, you can’t just leave!”

“Tell your mom I’m going home. I’ll call my dad later.”

Kayla told you that Ransom had a brother she never met and refused to talk about. She was going to trip when you told her not only had you met him, you let him take you for a ride in the family gazebo.

“So, your name is Curtis. I’ve been calling you Sexy Maniac Lumberjack in my head all night.”

Curtis laughed, pulling you closer, winding his arm around your hip. “After pancakes, let’s see what other names I can get you to call me.”

Best Friend ~ Andy Barber

Laurie never liked you and frankly speaking, you never liked her either. She always put out this perfect wife, perfect mother vibe to everyone else, but to you, she was faker than acrylic nails. In your eyes, she was never good enough for Andy, but he was head over heels for her 🙄

Laurie had it in her head that you were in love with Andy. It was completely ridiculous. Yes, you know how Andy likes his scalp scratched with your nails when he was tired. Yes, you know how Andy likes his stomach rubbed from behind when he was upset. Yes, you both know how each other’s kisses taste. And yes, at one point during circumstances beyond either of your control he saw your tits and you saw his ass (and what a juicy peach that was). But you were not in love. He was your best friend. Your person. But you were not in love and Laurie still didn’t like you.

You let it be.

Until she almost killed your godson.

You don’t remember much about the day Andy called you in tears. Devastated. His child, your godson, was in a coma, and it was because Laurie still doubted his innocence. You don’t remember getting in your car and committing several traffic violations to get to the hospital. You don’t remember Andy trying to explain that it was a medically induced coma to help reduce the swelling to his brain. You don’t remember finding Laurie’s room or her wide eyes as you charged towards her. You don’t remember her screams or the blood gushing from her face or the hospital security handcuffing you. All you could think of was Jacob laying in that hospital bed looking so small and pale. Honestly, you would have killed Laurie if you had just a little more time alone with her. But don’t tell anyone. Your lawyer, the very prestigious and consistently aggravated with you, Scott Huffman, made you stop saying that to anyone besides your cats, Shaun and Ed.

Fast forward eight years later and you’re standing in your kitchen, putting the finishing touches on dinner while Andy picks up Jacob and his boyfriend from the airport so that you can all spend Thanksgiving together. Peter Garfield. Tall, blonde, blue-eyed, and a killer smile.

You look around the kitchen feeling proud of yourself. The pies were cooling on the counter. The ham was glazed and ready. The dressing was piping hot. All you needed now was for Andy to bring the macaroni and cheese and put the turkey in the fryer since he insisted on always doing it.

“Daddy is calling…” Alexa’s computerized voice announced.

You smile to yourself and answer the video chat. “Happy Thanksgiving, Daddy.”

Ari’s bright blue eyes twinkled mischievously. He wore a red muscle shirt, displaying those corded muscles and firm pecs you often traced with the tip of your tongue. His gorgeous, feathered hair was damp from his morning swim. You could almost taste the ocean water on your lips.

“Happy Thanksgiving, baby.”

“How’s paradise?”

“Oh, you know. Warm waters, beautiful beaches, dozens of scantily clad women vying for yours truly.”

“Don’t make me jealous,” you snort. “This cold weather is killing me.”

“I told you, you should have come to me this year. We could be doing indecent things to one another right now instead of fantasizing about them.”

“Ari,” you groaned. “Please stop trying to give me a lady boner in my kitchen!”

Your ginger giant threw his head back laughing, pristine pearl white teeth on display. “And speaking of lady boners, is your hubby there yet?”

“I told you not to call him that.”

“Are we still doing this?”

“Doing what?” you feigned ignorance, pouring yourself a glass of wine.

“You’ve already claimed his son as your own—”

“Because he is, Laurie was just the incubator.”

“Both Jacob and Andy have rooms and clothes in your house, and you have the same in his.”

“I’m lazy. I don’t always feel like driving,” you shrug. “Besides, I don’t think I can morally claim Andy as my husband when you’re splitting me open whenever we’re in the same room.”

“And you’ve vetted Jacob’s new beau harder than the NSA,” Ari continues, ignoring your remarks.

“I never said I did that.” Ari’s eyebrows rose as if begging you to lie to him. “I only found out a little bit,” you confess.

“Such as?”

“Just the basics. Peter Ashley Garfield is the second oldest child in a family of four. Mom is a pediatrician and dad owns and runs a family-friendly bar and grill named the Sunset Rose. Peter’s older sister Elizabeth is preparing to open her own hair salon in January. His younger sister Michelle still lives at home and is currently juggling her senior year of high school while taking care of her sixteen-month-old son, Caleb. Michelle and Caleb’s father, Jon, share custody, but are not currently together, and Peter’s baby brother Billy is already taking college courses and planning to go to Dartmouth.”

“Sounds like a loving, supportive, and successful family,” Ari hummed.

“Sounds like, but tear away that white picket fence and who knows what you may find hiding behind the surface.” Ari gave you the look. “What? I’m just being cautious. That kid has gone through hell and back. I’ll be dammed if he gets hurt again on my watch.” As long as you live, you’ll never get that memory of him laying in a coma out of your mind.

Ari’s eyes softened, already knowing what you were thinking. “You’re going to make an amazing mommy someday.”

“I don’t see that happening anytime soon,” you laugh. The doorbell rings before you can say more. “He has a key. I don’t know why he never uses it.”

“To be fair, the last time Andy used his key, he did walk in on you sitting on my shoulders.”

You ignored the warmth in your body from the memory Ari conjured. Afterwards, you felt really bad because Andy had just left from a fight with Laurie about having a second child, but you were too blissed out to care about anything besides frantically coming in Ari’s mouth.

“Call me later, okay?” you knew with Andy, Jake, and Peter staying over the next couple days you wouldn’t get as much playtime with Ari as you liked, but it would be enough to hold you over until you saw him again in January.

“Of course, say hi to hubby for me.”

You playfully roll your eyes and blow him a kiss before ending the call. Shaun and Ed were already impatiently waiting by the door. You only took it a little personally when you realized your cats liked Andy and Jacob more than you.

You opened the door, bypassing Andy’s open arms to hug your godson’s neck and shower him with kisses all over his cheeks.

“Ma!!!” Jacob whined, squirming in your arms. “Come on!”

You gave him one last peck on the forehead and let them all in. “Don’t pout. I barely see you anymore.”

“We call each other through Facebook every other week.” The moment you stepped back from Jacob your chunky Tabby, Ed, launched himself at your godson, forcing him to catch him in his arms. “Oof! You miss me every time I leave, don’t you, boy?” Ed’s loud purrs and little headbutts were a clear yes. “I’m going to steal him from you one day, Ma, if he keeps this up.”

“Take him,” you snorted. “That little shit knocked over my wine glass last night.”

You loved your fur babies to death, but Shaun, your Calico, was clearly the chill one out of the two. He was quietly winding around Andy’s legs, patiently waiting for his attention.

You then turned your focus your attention to the new boyfriend. You wonder what expression you’re wearing or what Jacob and Andy may have told Peter because while he’s meeting your gaze like a soldier, he looks awkward as hell. “Peter Garfield, welcome to my home. I won’t give you the shovel talk because I’m sure Andrew has already done so. That being said, if you ever do anything to hurt my son, I have two lawyers on retainer, plus a backup, so I doubt I’ll face any serious jail time without anyone finding your body. Understood?” you smiled pleasantly.

Peter swallowed, eyes wide and nodding quickly. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Wonderful! Now that the formalities are out of the way, you and Jacob can get settled into his room. Make yourselves at home and we’ll call you when dinner is ready.”

You watched the two boys hurry upstairs, catching bits of their hushed whispers. “Your Ma is intense.”

“Yeah, well, she’s only 95% serious, so you better treat me right, mister.”

“Ask me that again tonight. Wait. Can we do that here or…?”

You smile, shaking your head. This one was already miles better than the last one. Your turn to Andy who’s giving you his patented stare glare.

“Did you bring everything?”

“Oh, so now you choose to acknowledge me?”

“Aww, what’s the matter, Bear? You’re not getting enough attention from me?” you grin, wrapping your arms around his neck to scratch at his scalp with your nails. His eyes fluttered shut and his arms wound around your waist. He pressed his forehead against yours, his body relaxing completely in your embrace. Here with your cats, a home-cooked meal, and your boys safe under your roof, you felt whole.

“I missed you,” Andy confesses, his hands on your waist.

“It’s only been two days since we saw each other.” You shamelessly breathe in his cologne and bask in the warmth of his body. The last bit of tension leaves your body.

“Yeah, but in those two days, Jacob has been driving me insane. He convinced himself that you were going to hate Peter right away.”

“Distrust does not equal hatred. I’ll talk to him later. Right now, I need you to drop the turkey in the fryer.”

Andy perked up. “You waited for me this time?”

“Do you really think I want a repeat of last year when you lectured me for twenty minutes about the dangers of turkey frying without having someone else in the house in case of an accident?” you say, cocking a delicately arched eyebrow.

“It was five minutes at best.”

“Jacob timed you, Counselor. It was twenty minutes.”

“I raised a traitor,” he mumbled.

While Andy watched over the turkey, you busied yourself setting the table with cornbread dressing, candied yams, glazed ham, mustard and turnip greens, and Andy’s out-of-this-world potato salad and mac and cheese. There was just enough space left on the table for the turkey. And to think, you almost talked yourself out of the eight-person cherry oak dining table.

“Anything I can help with?” Jacob appeared in the dining room.

“Jacob, you never want to set the table,” you scoffed.

“Almost a new year, new me.”

“Uh-huh. You can fold napkins and tell me why you don’t want me to interrogate your new boyfriend.”

Jacob’s shoulders dropped. “Am I that transparent?”

“Only if you know what to look for. So? Tell me. She's not calling you again, is she?” you were paying your Aunt Robin, who was serving a life sentence for torturing and murdering her son's abuser, double what your mother normally sent in commissary to make every day of Laurie's sentence pure hell. Last you heard, she was being kept in isolation for her own safety.

Jacob sighs, expertly folding the napkins. “No, nothing like that. I want you to know that it’s different with Peter than it was with Jack.” God, you hoped so. Jack Benjamin was not an awful kid; he just had an awful family who cared more about their public image than accepting and loving their son for who he was. A lot of that internalized trauma blended into Jack’s psyche and made him treat Jacob like a dirty secret. The night he publicly pushed Jacob for kissing him and called him a f*g was the second time you almost went to jail. “Peter's family is great, and they accept our relationship. I know you’ve already dug deep into his family and personal history, but his dad told me I’m the first boy he’s brought home.”

“Why do you sound terrified about that?”

“I just…after everything that happened,” you cut your eyes to the dining room door to make sure neither Andy nor Peter were in hearing range. “I never thought I would deserve someone like him. I still don’t most days.”

“Baby, that little shitstain had it coming. You want to know what his future would have been if you let him live? More innocent kids falling victim to his abuse, while his equally shitty dad writes it off as boys just being boys. He probably would have peaked in high school, married some poor foolish girl he charmed long enough for her to accept his proposal, and then once she’s shackled to the bastard, she'd become one of those statistical wives that bounce between being abused and being cheated on. Trust me, his death was a favor to the world.” You pulled Jacob into a hug. “Do you remember what you promised me?”

He nodded against your shoulder. “If I meet another Ben Rifkin again, call you first.”

“Good!” you booped his nose, making him twitch it, and pulled a bottle of wine from the cabinet. “Before you ask, you’re only allowed one glass.”

“Fine. Since we’ve handled my insecurities, when are you going to finally put dad out of his misery?”

Your eyes flashed to his. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t you notice how dad looks like he’s sucked a lemon whenever you mention Uncle Ari?”

You roll your eyes. For someone who’s trying to make a case for his father, Jacob always gained immense joy from calling Ari uncle in front of Andy. “That’s constipation; your dad has a horrible fiber intake.”

“You can’t hide behind humor on this one, Ma. He loves you. Really loves you and you already act like you’re a couple. You’re in his house more than your own. And don’t think I don’t know about you sneaking into each other’s bedrooms at night.”

You squirm awkwardly. Talking about your own feelings and relationships was the most uncomfortable thing in your life. Even your family was questioning why you were dragging your heels with both Andy and Ari.

“We only sleep, Jacob—”

“Is this about Laurie? Because I don’t think he’ll ever make that kind of mistake again.”

“First of all, she was not a mistake, because as much as I despise her, you wouldn’t be here without her. And don’t worry about your dad, he knows I love him.”

“Yeah, but do you love him enough to be with him? Just him?”

“Hey,” Andy stuck his head in the doorway before you could answer. “Turkey’s ready.”

Dinner was a lively affair. Peter and Andy got along well, and Andy made sure to tell the most embarrassing stories he could about preteen Jacob. Peter was a good kid, and you were beyond happy that Jacob found a good partner.

You, however, were silent compared to everyone else. You couldn’t stop thinking about what Jacob said. Or what Ari was hinting around earlier. You loved Andy more than you had ever loved anyone, but watching him marry Laurie, have a baby with her, and build this seemingly great life together, while you stood faithfully by his side hurt you more than you ever admitted. Meanwhile, there you were having your string of failed relationships. Bryce, who was beautiful and charming to strangers, but horribly violent and terrifying in bed. Colin, who had a different woman for every day of the week (you were Tuesday). Ransom, who was great in bed, but an emotional drunk, and he was drunk after every visit with his family. Honestly, it was embarrassing having him burst into tears after every orgasm. There was Officer Bill who had the most epic pornstache and knew how to use it…but he was exactly what Missy Elliott was singing about in One Minute Man. Oh, and then there was Captain Rogers, the sexy army vet who apparently always shared his sexual partners with his best friend Sergeant James Barnes. You walked away from that because it felt like you were intruding on an already established relationship. You had given up on dating until Ari Levinson walked through the doors of Clipped, Cleaned & Cuddled, your pet grooming business to book an appointment for Rose. Ari, who you did love and knew you could fall in love with if you let yourself. But how could you when in many ways, you never stopped waiting for Andy?

Andy softly calls your name, brushing his fingers against the back of your neck. “You okay?”

You had barely eaten anything and had spent who knows how long zoned out and swishing the wine in your glass as the thoughts of your dismal love life plagued you. “Just tired.”

Andy didn’t believe you, you could tell, but whatever he was thinking he kept it to himself.

That night, after pie, relaxing with Shaun and Ed, and the four of you streaming Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: The Secret of the Ooze, you said goodnight to everyone, locked up the house, and showered.

You completed your nightly skin rituals, pinned your locks into a bun, and changed into Ari’s favorite purple teddy with matching garters, thigh highs, and crotchless panties. You even pulled out your favorite jeweled plug, lubed it up, and pushed it inside your fluttering hole. You opened your laptop, awaiting his call. While you waited, you went inside your closet and opened your play chest. A few months ago, Ari sent you a mold of his dick. He liked for you to use it during your chats. BUT…you had issues with volume control. According to your past partners, you were a bit of a screamer. Jacob’s room was set the furthest away from yours and you did have your music playing, but just in case, you grabbed your spider gag. You turned off the lights and plugged in your string of fairy lights, illuminating your bedroom in an ethereal glow. You climbed on your bed, untying the curtains around your king-sized princess bed to create that moment of intimacy between you. You could let yourself go and focus solely on your own needs and wants. Just as you finished attaching the mold's suction cup to your mirror, you heard Alexa say:

“Daddy’s calling…”

Ari appeared on the screen. He was completely naked, his tree-trunk thighs splayed open, and his heavy, swollen, and leaking cock in hand.

“Daddy,” you whimpered, feeling both your holes clenching in need.

“Damn, look at you, baby,” he husked, eyes dark and dangerous. “So fucking beautiful. Turn around for me.” You turned away from the camera, bending over to show him your slick slit and the jeweled plug nestled snuggly between your cheeks. “Fuck,” he hissed. “You’re going to do whatever I want tonight, right?”

You turn back around sitting up on your knees. “Yes.”

“Put on your gag.”

There was something so freeing about letting Ari take complete control over your body and mind. The gag in place you brought the molded dick closer to your face, feeling your drool begin to pool on your tongue.

“Good girl. Take me in your mouth.” You kept your eyes on Ari and his hand steadily working up and down his length as you slipped the mold inside your mouth. Even with the gag, you felt your mouth stretching wide. The music and Ari muttering about how good of a girl you were being for him and how beautiful you looked with your lips around his cock didn’t help, you could still hear the wet slurps and gagging sounds you were making. “Stop,” Ari said, suddenly. “I want you to ride me.”

You pulled off the cock, taking the time to catch your breath, and turn your back to the camera. You know exactly what Ari likes. You hover over the mirror and spread your knees. You tease yourself a little, rubbing the tip against your throbbing clit. You were so wet, Ari’s molded dick slips inside of you with little resistance, stretching you like the real thing.

You try to say his name, but between the gag and the incredible feeling of bouncing on him, you could only produce high whimpers and garbled words.

“Took you long enough,” you hear Ari say. “Another minute and you would have missed her first orgasm.”

You open your eyes, confused, and freeze.

Andy stands shirtless at your bedside with your curtains pulled open, peering at you with dark eyes. His colorful tattoos are on full display and you can see the front of his pajama bottoms tenting. You blink once and then again, positive that you were so lost in the moment that you had started to hallucinate.

“I hope you don’t mind, baby, but the shoe is on the other foot now and your hubby’s tired of you giving me that sweet pussy while he waits for you.” Andy looks decidedly annoyed, but not enough to leave your bedroom. “Do you want him?” you start nodding, making grabby hands at Andy, no longer thinking of how crossing that very thin line that lay between you may affect your relationship. You had waited for Andrew Barber long enough. “Word of advice, leave that gag on her unless you want her waking the rest of the house. She’s vocal when she comes.”

Andy pushes his pajamas down his ridiculously slim hips and for the first time ever you get to see his dick. It looks even better than you dreamed. You barely register Andy’s wide hand cupping the back of your neck and drawing you closer to his weeping tip. You eagerly push your tongue through the ring, uncaring of the drool dribbling down your chin and onto your breasts. The first taste of him sends your already coiled body over the edge, covering the mold in your come.

Andy groans, thrusting deeper inside your mouth as the vibrations of your whimpering moans travel through him.

“Turn her around to me,” Ari commands, still in charge even thousands of miles away. You whimper, wanting to chase Andy’s retreating dick, still desiring to suck him dry. You feel him easing the molded cock out of you, your hole clenching hungrily. “Next time we’ll use the spreader bar and the bondage cuffs.” NEXT TIME? WE??? Ari chuckles, seeing the questions in your eyes. “All your questions will be answered later. Right now, your hubby is going to fuck you for me.” Andy’s chest presses against your back, his teeth kissing and nipping your ear when he slides inside of you. You feel your eyes roll back and you almost come from the feel of him. “Don’t hold back. She likes it a little rough, and baby? That was one, you owe us five more.”

Husband ~ Jake Jensen

This was your first Christmas as Mrs. Jake Jensen. You spent Christmas Eve Day with Jake’s friends, the Losers, and their significant others, and had dinner at his parents with his sister and her family. You loved Jake’s family, especially his parents. His father, who insisted you call him Papa Vic, was an amazing cook and the two of you were always in the kitchen sampling each other’s recipes. After Christmas, you were going to teach him how to make Brunswick Stew and he was going to give you his Nonna Sylvia’s Pasta Fagioli al Forno recipe.

Ms. Patty was the gamer in the family. Jake always said his earliest memory was sitting on her lap while she played a tabletop version of Ms. Pacman. Ms. Patty was a major Ms. Pacman fan, so Jake bought her a pocket version of the arcade game to upgrade her old Gameboy system. She was content for a while, but she recently discovered TikTok, and with the help of her two huskies, and Jake’s new foster sister, Faith, she garnered enough viewers to finally go live. The four of you had the collective idea to get Ms. Patty a Ms. Pacman arcade game, a Ms. Pacman gaming stool, a pink and black gaming glove, and a pink Ms. Pacman bow for her hair. You and your sister-in-law were tasked with the mission of keeping her out of the house while Jake and his father put the game together. Your ears were still ringing from her happy screeching from seeing her new game.

But today was just for the two of you. You planned on waking up first and getting a head start on breakfast, but Jake derailed those plans by waking you up with his sinful mouth working between your legs. After a fun-filled shower, Jake went out to grab breakfast, taking Pepper, your adorable toy Aussie for her morning walk. A light drizzle of snow began to fall just minutes before Jake and Pepper returned.

“You won’t believe the line in Starbucks! Doesn’t anyone make their own coffees anymore?”

“Says the man who will happily brave a blizzard for his Peppermint Mocha,” you tease, watching the snow melt in his hair.

“I would hardly call that a blizzard. Besides, Pepper loved every minute, didn’t you, baby girl?”

You loved watching Jake and Pepper. He loved all animals, but Pepper was his little girl. His mother and sister told you it was because he had baby fever. You would find out soon enough if that was true or not.

“Here, tell me what I’m missing?” you bring the spoon of chili and beans to Jake. Thanks to his dad, he had the perfect palate.

“Add a teaspoon of liquid smoke to give it that perfect smokey flavor and you’re good!” you followed his directions and set the pot to simmer. “I got your favorite.” Jake stopped off at Dunkin Donuts and picked up a dozen variety donuts for you two to split later and what used to be your favorite breakfast sandwich, but now made you feel nauseous. “What’s the matter?” you couldn’t hide the sick look on your face as badly as you wanted.

“Um, I think I have a stomach bug.” You grabbed a pack of saltine crackers out of the cupboard and a can of Canada Dry. “You can have it if you want.”

When the nausea passed, Jake gently rubbed your stomach, making you nervous. “Do you want to open gifts later? We can take a nap together if you want.”

That sounded amazing, but you knew if you closed your eyes now, a nap would lead to you sleeping until it was nighttime. “Nah, I’m alright now. We can open gifts now.” Jake looked at you like he didn’t believe you. “I’m alright, babe, I promise.” You even grabbed a glazed donut from the box and a bottle of Evian. “See? All good. And if it will make you feel better we can start with a gift for me.”

Jake laughed, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, you’re feeling better.”

You settled on the couch with Pepper in your lap. The fireplace was burning and the Christmas lights were still on. You had The Lost World: Jurassic Park streaming (you two were binge-watching the entire series because you still had not watched Jurassic World and Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom) and you were with the man you love. You were happier than you had ever been. Honestly, the presents were just a bonus.

“Okay, this one is a two-part gift.” Jake came back to the couch carrying two boxes wrapped in Pioneer Woman wrapping paper. It was his system to make sure you did not have any wacky Christmas shenanigans. His gifts to you were wrapped in Ree Drummond’s special paper and his were wrapped in Good Guy because Chucky was Jake’s favorite slasher. “Open this one first.”

He passed you your first gift, graciously taking Pepper off your lap. “You had your sister wrap these, didn’t you?”

“We can’t all wrap gifts like we worked in Nordstrom,” Jake threw his hands up in faux aggravation. Nordstrom was your job during college and after until you decided to ditch the Broadcasting route and become a Pharmacy Technician.

You tore open the present and squealed. “I love it!” Jake bought you a tye-dye-colored suitcase Victrola record player. “Is this why holed up in your office during Black Friday?”

“No, I bought this last month. The second part to your gift is why I holed up in my office during Black Friday.”

The next gift was decided heavier and looser. “You got me records, I can guess that part. But I wonder if you got me anything good.” You unwrapped the records and smiled so big your face started to hurt. Michael Jackson’s Thriller. Prince’s Purple Rain. Whitney Houston’s I Will Always Love You: The Best of Whitney. Guns N’ Roses Greatest Hits. Guardians of the Galaxy Awesome Mix, Vol. 1. Queen’s Greatest Hits. Hall & Oates. Duran Duran. Lauryn Hill. Roberta Flack. Bill Withers and Foreigner. “Some of these have been out of print for years, how did you even…?”

“Come on. You’re talking to the man who received a strongly worded letter from Sony to stop disabling other Fortnite players' accounts only for them to offer me a job in the last paragraph.”

You remembered that letter. Jake suffered patiently through many hours of your stubbornness on Fortnite, refusing to allow him to take over after you kept getting assassinated in the Battle Royale. But then you bought the OG Black Widow skin and started binge playing. You thought you improved a lot once you stepped in Natasha’s shoes, but THEN you discovered the special feature of Spiderman’s gloves, allowing you to shoot webs and swing everywhere. After that, the two of you would play in duo mode. You, through your Nintendo Switch, while Jake used his gaming laptop. You even matched in your black and white OG Black Widow skin with Jake by your side in his Future Foundation Spider-Man costume wielding Captain America’s shield. You became a force to be reckoned with.

Until you got distracted by making Black Widow shoot webs.

Then you would get assassinated, and Jake would lose his shit.

“Oh hell no. Nobody shoots my wife!” he'd growl. Those poor players never got to enjoy their ill-gotten loot because Jake was always there to “unalive” them, as he says before they could even attempt to defend themselves.

Once you started going live together, you faced the internet trolls who didn’t understand why you and Jake were together. To his credit, he kept his cool in live, but made note of who said what and would later, hack their accounts, permanently ban them from the servers, and if they were especially nasty, ruin their credit and leave them borderline bankrupt. You loved your husband.

“Okay, so for your first gift, we’re going to need to take a quick trip to the guest room.”

“Finally! Do you know how hard it was to resist the urge to pick the lock and see what you were hiding?”

“That’s why I put a lock on the door to start with.” You unlocked the room as soon as Jake left with Pepper this morning. “Go on.”

He opened the door and ran in once he saw his gift. Jake had really gotten into pet videos on TikTok and one of his favorite channels was the one with Pouncey the cat whose owner rode him around town in the basket on his electric bike. So, you bought Jake a bike just like it with a cushioned basket and headlight.

“This is amazing!” he hugged you tightly. “Pepper is going to love this.”

“But maybe wait until she’s a little older or you’ve trained her enough to not jump out the basket if she sees something distracting.”

“Yeah, of course.” He was probably going to sneak her out for a ride as soon as you fell asleep.

You came back to the living room and grabbed another donut as your appetite came back. You finished it and opened your next gift from Jake. This one was a much smaller box. “I finally get to see Springfield!” you gasped. There were two Platinum Annual Passes to Universal Studios Hollywood. You could already see yourself eating at Krusty Burger and Cletus' Chicken Shack. “Thank you, baby. I can’t wait to go next year. I guess we had the same idea though.”

Jake opened his next gift and fist-pumped. “Comic-Con, hell yeah! I already see it. I’m going to find that Miles Morales 2099 suit. Or maybe the Bodega Suit.” He glanced at Pepper. “Do you think she’ll be able to wear the mask and pop out of my backpack?”

“I don’t know, babe, she’s not a cat. And I don’t think I like the idea of you wearing a junk hugging suit for a bunch of randos to drool over,” you pout.

Jake grins, crawling over to you until he was hovering on top of you. “Aww, don’t be jealous, baby. You know my junk is only for you to drool over and hopefully on.” He kissed you through your giggles, and when his hands crept under your sweater to cup your breasts, you almost forgot you still had two more gifts to give.

“Hold on, there’s one more gift you definitely don’t want to put off.”

When Jake opened his gift, the elusive PlayStation 5, he whooped and cheered and danced around the living room getting Pepper excited enough to try to imitate his dancing while she balanced on her hind legs. You turned on your camera to record them both. Jake was definitely his mother’s child. He still had his old PS4 because you were ‘a Sony household that would never settle for an Xbox,’ so you didn’t need to worry about re-buying the games he already had. Instead, you bought him Bully and The Warriors through the PlayStation store, Deadpool from Gamestop, as well as Demon’s Souls, COD Vanguard, COD Black Ops Cold War, NBA 2K21 Mamba Forever Edition, and Riders Revolution.

Your final gifts were gift cards for Jimmy John’s, Books-A-Million, and Victoria’s Secret, and all of the books you had sitting in your Amazon cart to fill the space in the bookshelf Jake built for your last birthday, and a deluxe spa package.

You were having a wonderful first Christmas as Mrs. Jake Jensen. As you watched him play Chyna in WWE 2K20 and trying not to get emotional over your fallen favorite wrestler, you slyly reached under the couch.

“I have one more gift for you, Jake.”

He paused the game gazing quizzically at the square Good Guy wrapped box. “Is it an extra controller?”

“Open it and see.” It was in fact an extra controller but underneath the controller…

Jake stared at the onesie in utter silence.

"Jake?"

"This...this has an Xbox controller and I'm not even mad about it." He turned to you, eyes growing redder and glossier behind his glasses. "When?"

"I found out a few weeks ago. If you mean when it happened, probably when I dressed up as Ghost-Spider. Are you--are you happy?"

"Happy?" he slid off the couch, kneeling before you and touching your stomach. "This is all I ever wanted." He kissed your lips, letting you taste the salt of his tears. "Thank you, thank you," he said, still kissing you.

The rest of the day was spent with Jake on the floor talking to your stomach. Neither of you could have asked for a better gift.

Author's Note: Sorry for any mistakes you see. I finished this at like 2 in the morning!

tagging: @georgiapeach30513 @autumnrose40 @specialk-18 @geminixevans @thanatosfic @sweetlyscared @gotnofucks @navybrat817 @caffiend-queen @stargazingfangirl18 @angrythingstarlight @avintagekiss24 @jobean12-blog @river-soul @the-iceni-bitch @donutloverxo @fineanddandy @boxofbonesfic @xxindiglow @luxeavenger @foxgloveprincess @afriendlyblackhottie @indyluckycharlie @lotusss-flowerbomb @maroonsunrise83 @syntheticavenger

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youtifulhobi · 3 years

Text

Strawberry Sundae [JHS]

➴ Pairing: JHS x reader | WC: 6k | Genre: fluff | Rating: PG-13 (see warnings)

➴ Warnings: some swearing, slightly suggestive themes (but nothing overt), vague mentions of alcohol, a gratuitous amount of word vomit about loving our resident sunshine Jung Hoseok, possibly a vomit-inducing amount of cheese and fluff; here are some [nonexistent] insulin pills to deal with the sweetness :)

➴ Tags: slice of life!AU, lifeguard!Hobi, Olympian swimmer!reader | themes: established relationship, flashback, meet cute, vacation

➴ Summary: A few years after you begin dating Jung Hoseok, the two of you reminisce about how you met when he was a lifeguard and saved you from drowning, when in reality you had just fell off your strawberry floatie and he just wanted to talk to you.

➴ A/N: bless @oftenderweapons for making this beautiful banner for the collab and letting me use it because yours truly is a big clown and left her writing till literally the very last 24 hours whoops also a HUGE thank you to my beautiful bae @bangtanhome for betaing this at the very last second, I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you. I am in awe of your huge brain and fat ass ♡ And also an equally big thank you to my soulmate @joheunsaram for betaing this in double quick time and knowing exactly what I was trying to say ♡♡♡

Do not redistribute or plagiarise on any other platforms (including but not limited to wattpad, youtube, instagram, facebook). I only use tumblr and AO3 as of the time of posting. If I find my work plagiarised or redistributed without consent, I will not hesitate to take legal action.

You sit at your usual booth at your favourite ice cream parlour, waiting for Hoseok. Your beloved boyfriend, Jung Hoseok, is the light of your life, though he’s often late due to his job as a lifeguard at the only beach in town.

Funnily enough, his job was the reason you met, so you never complained wholeheartedly. As you sit on the lacquered wood, daydreaming about your boyfriend, you don’t notice the gentle tinkling of the bell attached to the door, nor do you notice excited giggles coming from its general direction.

“A Sprite Zero for my favourite customer,” a familiar voice sounds near your ear. Startled out of your reverie, you look up to see a sweet smile, belonging to an old friend.

“Monet!” you squeal, jumping up to hug her. “What are you doing here? I thought you left In The Scoop after graduation!”

Your friend smiles at you as she instinctively reaches out to catch the glass you nearly knocked over in your excitement. “Jimin had some business in the neighbourhood, so we figured we’d pop by to see how this place was doing. Glad to see you and Hobi are still single-handedly keeping the parlour afloat,” Monet jokes, patting your arm.

You laugh with her. “No, that’s not true. I’m sure the parlour would do just fine without us. Speaking of the better half of me, you haven’t seen him, have you?”

Monet nods her head happily. "We saw him. He ducked into a flower shop, but he should be here soon.”

“You couldn’t have waited to tell her that, could you?” a chipper voice sounds moments after a second tinkling of the door chime. Beaming, you turn to face the man you’ve devoted your life to and greet him with a gentle kiss on the lips, to the cheery disgust of your friend.

When you pull apart, Hoseok presents a slightly crumpled bouquet of sunflowers and wildflowers to you with a flourish, signature heart-shaped smile on display.

You squeal happily, not caring that some of the customers were sending dirty looks your way. Actually, maybe you care a little. If a couple engaging in PDA was in your face about it, you’d be annoyed too.

Slightly subdued by your thoughts, you take your boyfriend’s hand and lead him to your booth, offering him a sip of your soda. He grimaces as the taste of artificial sweetener hits his tongue and shudders visibly, at which Monet laughs and leaves to fetch him a “real” Sprite.

“It’s good to see Monet and Jimin again, isn’t it, Hobi?” The man in question hums happily, interlacing his fingers with yours.

“This reminds me a bit of the summer we met, actually,” Hoseok muses. “Do you still remember?”

You giggle lightly, nodding. “Of course! Only you would think a competitive swimmer was drowning.”

3 years ago.

You scanned the sparkling sea, admiring the way the water glinted under the sun’s rays. After placing first in the competition you’d been training well over five years for, you were finally on a well-deserved break. You’d spent the first two days catching up on sleep, to nobody’s surprise, but on day three, you’d woken up early, missing the way it felt to glide through the water, each drop caressing your skin as you moved through your secret underworld.

Maybe secret underworld was the wrong word to use, seeing as it consisted of pool tiles and lane dividers. Moreover, it wasn’t exactly yours, since you shared the training pool with your teammates. Nonetheless, you still enjoyed being in the water, the silence a brief respite from the shrill cry of the whistle that lived in your coach’s mouth during practice.

But now that you were free of the grating noise of the damned whistle you’d grown to love and hate, you really could take the time to explore another body of water you had adored since you were a child — the ocean.

Having found a suitable spot to relax far away from the general hubbub of beachgoers, you set down your things under an umbrella and dragged your favourite floatie down to the water, a blissful smile growing bigger the closer you got to your safe haven.

When you settled back on your brightly coloured strawberry floatie, ready to take a short nap, you looked around for your sunscreen, belatedly realising that it remained tucked away in your bag on the beach. With a groan and a roll of your eyes, you moved to slide off your flotation device, only to have your leg become stuck on a part of your floatie that had somehow remained dry.

Tugging your leg with increasing force as you grew more frustrated. When you finally yanked it free, you belatedly realised that you’d used too much power, sending you tumbling into the ocean with a loud splash.

You flailed around blindly for a moment before remembering that you could in fact, swim, and resurfaced spluttering and desperately trying to clean the salt water out of your eyes. Contrary to what movies taught the general public, getting salt water (or any kind of liquid that wasn’t made specifically for the eye) into your eye stung.

As you struggled with the vicious cycle of trying to wipe the seawater from your eyes with an equally wet hand, an arm snaked around your waist before pulling you close to a hard chest. Burning eyes temporarily forgotten, you squinted at your human flotation device, only to be met with the face of one of the most handsome men you’d ever seen in your life.

“Are you okay, miss?” the stranger asked, narrowing his eyes in concern.

“Uh, yeah, I’m okay, I wasn’t drowning, but I appreciate it,” you replied, squeezing your eyes tightly in a last ditch effort to rid them of seawater.

“Oh,” came his answer. If you hadn’t been preoccupied with your eyes, you might have picked up on a disappointed tone, but the only thing you were aware of was his lingering hand on your hip.

“Since you know I’m not in mortal peril, could you...remove your hand? It’s making me a little uncomfortable.” You looked at the stranger properly now that the last remnants of the devil’s water were out of your eyes.

He flushed, a beautiful pink tinge dusting his impossibly high cheekbones. “Yeah, of course. I’ll just...go back to my post,” he said awkwardly.

You cocked your head to the side. “Your post?”

“I’m a lifeguard,” he clarified. Understanding dawned on you as you tilted your head back slightly, mouth opening in an ‘o’ of comprehension. Suddenly, everything made sense. He wasn’t some creep that decided to prey on an unsuspecting woman; he was just doing his job.

“If you’d like, you can swim back with me back to shore. I forgot my sunscreen,” you offered, feeling slightly guilty at the way you’d told him off.

The stranger smiled, the corner of his lips lifting as he shot you a heart-shaped smile. “Sure thing. I happen to be going that way too.”

Despite your general intolerance for dumb jokes, you couldn’t stop the giggle that left your mouth at his statement, nor could you stop your heart from skipping a beat.

In an attempt to break whatever tension had suddenly cropped up between you when you caught yourself staring into his eyes for a little longer than social norms deemed appropriate, you turned back to your floatie and began pushing it back to shore, legs defaulting to breaststroke as you hung off its edge.

“My name is Jung Hoseok, by the way.” Looking in the direction his voice came from, you smiled when you realised he’d come to help you push your strawberry floatie back to shore.

“Y/L/N Y/N. Nice to meet you.”

It took you a few seconds before you realised you were once again alone on your way back to shore, your new companion was now frozen in place when you casually dropped your name. Looking back, slightly concerned, you stifled a giggle when you were met with the sight of the lifeguard doggy-paddling his way to you, eyes widened in admiration.

“You mean…you’re Y/L/N Y/N, the Olympic champion who not only beat her own record, but the world record as well?”

You smiled demurely, still getting used to your newfound fame. “Yeah, that’s me.”

A slightly awkward silence followed your confirmation, Hoseok mulling over his newfound knowledge as he once again helped you move your floatie back to land.

“So…” Hoseok began, shifting from foot to foot as you wiped a few grains of sand from your ankles. “What brings you to Honeycomb Cove?”

“I needed the break,” you began, straightening up. “All my life, since I was old enough to remember, I’ve been training for the Olympics — first, it was to see if I could qualify, then it was upwards of 8 hours in the water, training and perfecting techniques, then off to the gym for resistance training and to tone up, then shower, eat, sleep, and repeat.”

You watched with mild amusement as Hoseok’s eyes became wider and wider at your rigorous training schedule, mouth hanging open in astonishment.

“No wonder you came in first place,” he whispered in awe. “You worked hard for so many years.”

You shook your head, a small smile gracing your lips. “I’m not the only one. Everyone else who participated in the Olympics, regardless of what placement they got, worked equally as hard, if not harder. I was just lucky. I somehow managed to get a good night’s sleep, kept my breakfast down despite my nerves, and I had the most supportive teammates, coach, and family.”

You didn’t know it at the time, but Hoseok would tell you multiple times over the next several years that this display of humility was the moment he began to fall for you.

“I know this could sound totally wrong out of context, but could you help me put sunscreen on my back?” You held the tube of sunblock out to Hoseok, a neat dollop already sitting in the palm of your free hand.

Hoseok winked, picking up on the teasing tone in your otherwise seemingly innocent question. “What, you can’t reach despite all that training?”

“That question would be better suited for a gymnast,” you joked back, rubbing the white liquid onto one of your forearms.

“Touché,” he replied. The conversation ended after his comment, though the silence didn’t seem as stifling as it had been earlier.

It took you a while to finish lathering enough sunscreen to your heart’s content, but once you were finished, Hoseok invited you up to the lifeguard tower, pointing out that despite your eagerness to get into the water, the sunblock still needed a while before you could go back into the ocean.

You accepted happily, grateful for a reason to get out of the scorching sun. The plan had been to spend twenty minutes or so and then bid Hoseok goodbye as you left him to his work, not wanting to distract him, but he proved to be more of a multitasker than you originally thought him to be, often stopping your lighthearted banter to report to his supervisor and colleagues on his station’s situation. As it were, twenty minutes came and went, and you found yourself unwilling to leave Hoseok’s side, too caught up in his easygoing, sunshine-like personality.

At first, you were envious of the way he always managed to find something to smile about, being somewhat of a pessimist yourself, but being around him made you feel lighter, happier, more...complete. The more time you spent around him, the more your envy melted away and gave way to contentment, filling you with a sense of belonging.

You spent the first week outside your hotel room chatting happily with Hoseok, not caring that your plans had essentially been uprooted. You liked that Hoseok brought out the more rebellious, carefree side of you; the one that threw schedules out the window and lived in the moment.

In your twenty or so years of life, the last time you’d been away from water for so long was the time it took you to grow from a newborn to a two year old, and that had been because you were too young to swim properly. But even then, your parents had begun taking you to the swimming pool everyday starting at 6 months, wanting you to get accustomed to water. But when you were with Hoseok, all your worries melted away. Instead of using water as a means to deal with anxiety, Hoseok had become your new outlet.

By the end of the first week of your vacation, you and Hoseok had exchanged your most embarrassing childhood stories, biggest fears, hopes and dreams, and worst heartbreaks. You’d never grown close to someone so quickly, but something about Hoseok made it okay.

Every morning, you woke up with a smile, knowing you’d see him. With each passing day, you found yourself spending more time on your hair, your clothes, and your appearance. You weren’t stupid. You knew you were falling head over heels for him, and though every ounce of logic screamed at you to be careful, you couldn’t. Because in the span of one week, your world had gone from revolving around swimming and rigorous schedules to revolving around Jung Hoseok, your personal brand of sunshine.

Your heart fluttered at the mere thought of him and pounded wildly within the confines of your ribcage when you were within touching distance, so it didn’t come as a surprise that you had frequent heart palpitations whenever he came too close. But now, when he had you locked in an embrace, ecstatic that you’d agreed to make an appearance at his friend’s nighttime bonfire party on the beach, your heart became suspiciously quiet.

For a moment, you genuinely thought you’d died and gone to heaven, but then he pulled back and left you dazed, staring dumbly at him as every fibre of your being cried out at the sudden loss of contact.

“Are you okay?” he asked, concern marring his beautiful features as he peered at your flushed face.

Suddenly self conscious, you blinked and grinned somewhat stupidly at him. No, you weren’t okay. You never were around him, but you were just a fool in love. Simple as that.

Hoseok laughed and gently ruffled your hair, letting his fingers trail through the flyaway strands. If it were possible to melt, you were sure that you would have at that very moment.

When he stepped away to refill your water bottle after noticing it was empty, you took a moment to recompose yourself. You’d been acting wildly out of character this past week, and for someone that might not even return your affections. If he liked you back, you’d be more than happy to play the part of a lovesick fool, but not before getting confirmation. And certainly not in front of his friends, who you’d only heard about up to this point.

“I’m really happy you’re coming to the party tonight,” Hoseok chirped happily as he let go of the button on the water cooler. “But let me know if it gets too much for you and I can take you back to your hotel. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

Calm down, you told your heart as it beat wildly out of control. At the end of the day, no matter how much of a gentleman he is, he’s still just another human bein-

Hoseok smiled at you, showing off his pearly white teeth as he held out your water bottle, cocking his head to the side. Fuck it, he’s one of a kind. Who needs a conscience anyway?

You accepted the bottle with two hands, shooting him a shy smile as your fingers brushed. “Thank you, Hobi. I really appreciate you looking out for me.”

“No problem. I’m just happy to see you outside of work.” Hoseok’s eyes widened and he scrambled to clarify himself, fearing that you would get the wrong idea. “Not that I don’t like seeing you while I’m working! It’s just that we always get interrupted and I’m excited to spend time with you in a more casual setting and…”

Your nerves melted away at the sound of Hoseok’s panicked explanation and you threw your head back and laughed, letting your inhibitions go. “It’s okay, Hobi! I know you wouldn’t look for me every day if you didn’t like spending time with me. But speaking of spending time together, I should go so I have enough time to get dressed for the party. Is there a dress code or something I should be aware of?”

Hoseok shook his head, traces of panic still lingering in his eyes. “No, just dress comfortably and in something you won’t mind getting sand on.”

You smiled at him, wondering how to say goodbye. As you mulled over your farewell, your body acted on its own before your mind had a chance to catch up, and, in a fit of what could only be called insanity, your fingers traced Hoseok’s jawline, gently caressing his skin.

“See you tonight. I’ll be the one in blue.” With a wink, you turned and left his tower, hoping that he wouldn’t notice your shaking legs.

What you didn’t know was how long he stood in the middle of his lifeguard tower after you left, all sorts of emotions running through his body like he’d been electrified. You didn’t know how whipped he was; didn’t know how much longer, if it hadn’t been for the crackle of his radio, he would have stood in place, blushing and grinning into space like an idiot.

You stood in the middle of your hotel room, naked save for the towel wrapped around your torso. Maybe it was a stupid idea to shower before a beach party, but there was something about the way the fresh water trickled down your body that soothed you. That, and also being able to belt out your favourite songs, the shower chamber standing in as a mini concert hall.

Feeling refreshed, you’d decided to take advantage of your good mood, hoping that it would translate to an easier time choosing an outfit to wear to the party, but it turned out to be wishful thinking. Brushing a damp strand of hair out of your face, you finally selected a white one piece swimsuit with a plunging neckline, ignoring the whispered thoughts that your favourite lifeguard would find it too revealing.

You checked your phone, swearing loudly when you realised that you were going to be late, having taken too much time trying to choose the perfect swimsuit. You hurriedly threw on a flowing dress and a wide brimmed hat before running to grab your pre-packed essentials-only purse, silently thanking your past self for being organised and slipping on your favourite pair of sandals, tripping over your feet no less than three times in your haste.

It was only in the taxi back to another section of the beach you had come to know and love that your heart finally began to cease its rapid pitter-pattering, only to start once again much to your chagrin when you remembered that you’d be seeing your favourite lifeguard again.

But nothing could hide the small smile that crept upon your lips at the thought of how his mouth curved into a heart when he smiled, the way he sounded so happy when he laughed and chuckled at everything, and the way he always made sure to pay a little extra attention to you when you were feeling out of sorts, making it a point to make dorky sound effects as he scanned the beach with his binoculars.

Lost in your rose-tinted thoughts, you didn’t realise that you’d arrived at the beach until the taxi driver cleared her throat, a knowing smile on her face. Hastily, you paid her, flushing at being caught daydreaming about the boy you’d fallen head over heels for.

You didn’t get much of a chance to look around in wonder at the way the setting sun made the beach look magical before your vision was obstructed by a mop of platinum blond hair and your ears were assaulted by Hoseok’s cry of joy.

“You made it!” Lean arms wrapped around your frame, squeezing you tightly until you let out a strained cough, at which Hoseok let go immediately, a sheepish expression on his face. “Sorry. I got a little overexcited.”

A snort sounded somewhere behind Hoseok, a mop of dyed red hair gradually coming into view. A man seemingly shorter than Hoseok made his way up the sandy slope, hands in his pockets as he stepped easily over small rocks, extending his hand with an easy smile. “I’m Jimin. It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. Hobi here won’t shut up about you, but I promise, it’s all good things. Did you know that he nicknamed you ‘Otter’ because they’re one of his favourite animals and to quote him, you ‘look so cute and happy' when you’re ‘playing in the water’?”

Jimin giggled at his own comment, eyes turning into crescent moons, as he watched Hoseok’s cheeks begin to redden.

“W-wait, no. I mean, yes, but…”

You stifled a smile as Hoseok tried to talk his way out of the hole his friend had dug, wondering if you should say something to put the poor boy out of his misery.

“It’s okay Hobi, I know what you mean.”

“Oh ho, Hobi. I thought that was meant for—” the rest of Jimin’s words were drowned out as his friend clamped a hand over his mouth to prevent him from making the situation any worse.

You giggled and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, cheeks burning as you looked shyly at your favourite lifeguard. Jimin, noticing that you two were about to have a moment, pointed at a bonfire raging nearby, reassuring you that you weren’t the last to arrive and that the fun had yet to begin.

“Though the best part of the night has already begun for Hobi,” he mumbled under his breath, grinning.

Hoseok growled, having finally lost his patience with his redheaded friend and shoved him towards the crowd gathered around the gigantic pile of burning wood. “Get lost, Jimin!”

“I’m so sorry about him,” Hoseok apologised sheepishly when the troublemaker had disappeared into the throng. “He really doesn’t know when to shut up.”

Your smile widened as you shook your head, indicating that it wasn’t a problem, though you were grateful that Jimin had disappeared. Although you liked Hoseok, it seemed that Jimin was one to push things a little faster than either of you were comfortable with.

“You look—”

“Nice weather for—”

You pressed your lips into a thin line when you realised that in your effort to dispel the awkward silence, you’d begun talking about the weather. Hoseok didn’t help your nerves by staring at you dumbly, as if he couldn’t believe what you’d done either.

Frantically thinking of an excuse to leave and bury yourself somewhere under the sand, you blurted out something that you would have traded years of small talk to take back. “I’m really sorry about that. It’s just…you make me really nervous because I have the biggest crush on you!”

Time came to a standstill. Hoseok’s dumbfounded expression morphed into one of shock as the weight of your confession sank in, and you truly wished that it was possible for the ground to swallow a human being whole.

“You know what? I’m just gonna...go…” You began backing away, a mortified smile on your lips as you took a few shaky steps back, hands up in a placating gesture.

“Wait! Don’t go!” Hoseok called out to you, an arm stretched out to grab your elbow before you could leave him. “I thought I’d get the chance to confess first, but I really like you too.”

You froze; one foot arched mid-step so that the soft sand tickled the tips of your toes, as your brain worked through Hoseok’s sudden confession. He liked you back.

“Actually…” Hoseok began, gaze suddenly glued to the floor as a light pink dusted his cheekbones, “do you think we could...make this our first date?”

You beamed at his question, heart leaping into overdrive as you boldly took his hand and nodded your affirmation.

“So…” you began, suppressing a cheeky smile as Hoseok guided you to where the party was, “tell me about my new nickname.”

You were grateful for the alcohol provided. Without it, you may not have mustered the courage to join the beach volleyball game that some of the other partygoers were participating in, because though you were a household name, you were still a shy, introverted girl at heart who did better in small groups.

You cheered as one of your teammates launched a spike that won the match point, secretly thankful that the game was finally over. The light sheen of sweat that covered your body had become a sticking point for far too many grains of sand for your liking, and there was nothing you’d rather do than wash it off in the ocean.

Bidding a goodbye to the other partygoers, you walked away from the group that was now clamouring to take over the spot you had just vacated, wanting a turn to play as well.

Hoseok found you standing at the very point where the sea met the land, sighing happily as the water dripped from your hair, having gotten out just a minute prior.

“Hey,” he smiled, lifting up one of the paper plates he held as an explanation.

“Hey,” you replied, smiling back at him. Silently, you accepted the food from Hoseok and stood next to him, munching away as the two of you stood side by side, looking at the dark horizon that had settled now that the moon had risen.

The sound of waves gently lapping at the white grains of sand calms your otherwise rapid heartbeat. And through the dark navy and grey colours of the night, the warmth of a tiki torch casts a soothing orange to contrast the otherwise colourless beach.

You quite enjoyed this colour scheme, though most places were too dark for you to see. It was like the moon had selected certain aspects of the party for you to turn your attention to, other details blending into the inky darkness of the night sky.

And yet Jung Hoseok was the only partygoer that seemed to have the moon’s blessing.

You snuck a few glances at him, taking in the way the light traced the curves of his jawline and highlighted his tall nose while shrouding his eyes in the dark. It was as if he’d stepped out of a fantasy novel, where his intentions were hidden behind a thick wall and impenetrable façade he’d built to protect himself and you were the main character, unaware of what he was plotting.

But this was real life, and from what you knew of him, nothing but kindness lay behind his eyes.

Shoving the last bit of bread into your mouth, you turned to Hoseok, only to catch him staring at you as one of your cheeks bulged, giving you the appearance of a chipmunk. You couldn’t stop the embarrassed smile that spread across your lips as Hoseok pointed and giggled loudly, though you tried to plead with him through hand gestures to stop laughing, as his joy was infectious and it was making you dangerously close to joining him and accidentally spitting out your food.

When you finally managed to swallow the lump of food, you had tears in your eyes from laughing, exacerbated by remembering a story Hoseok had once told you about Seokjin egging Jungkook on and telling him that he liked the feeling of choking when swallowing food.

“Hoseok,” you finally said, throat sore from forcing down the ball of food, “remind me never to look at you when I have food in my mouth ever again.”

Hoseok wiped away his own tears of mirth, a few stray giggles still escaping from time to time as he agreed to your suggestion of returning to the party. He held out a hand for you to take, long fingers interlacing with yours as he led the way to the bonfire where partygoers had made themselves at home in the sand, drinking and playing games.

You felt relaxed, thanks to a combination of warmth from both the bonfire and alcohol as well as a feeling of belonging when you rested your head on Hoseok’s shoulder. You’d dozed off once or twice, feeling content and safe, but you didn’t mind.

No, you didn’t mind in the slightest. Until you heard the faint sounds of police sirens growing louder and the police van that stopped a ways from the beach, flashing blue and red lights illuminating the figures that stepped off the vehicle and made their way to the beach.

Your heart stopped, eyes widening as you made the split second decision to grab Hoseok’s hand and haul ass off the beach, fearing that if you were caught, your reputation would be ruined and you’d never be allowed to swim again.

You only stopped once to wait for Hoseok as he stumbled and nearly fell face first into the sand, unaware of what was happening, and then the two of you were sprinting away into the darkness, not caring that you’d caused pandemonium with your abrupt departure.

Because right now, it was you or them.

The other partygoers wouldn’t have their faces slapped on newspaper headlines the next day, denouncing them for a harmless bit of fun on the beach, but you would. It had already been difficult enough to get to where you were now, being a female existing in a man’s world. Michael Phelps’s reputation survived his scandal, but yours wouldn’t.

When you and Hoseok had put a respectable amount of distance between yourselves and the party, you leaned against the nearest tree, wheezing out an apology as you put your hands on your knees.

“I’m...so sorry...about that,” you gasped, explaining why you’d fled the scene in between breaths.

Hoseok waved his hand in the air after your explanation, equally as winded. He didn’t want you to apologise for something that was out of your control. While he would have appreciated a heads up instead of the handful of sand that had narrowly missed his eyes as he fell when you tried to yank him up, all he cared about was that you were safe. And if you were safe, he’d run an extra five hundred miles to keep it that way.

“I’m sorry about tonight,” Hoseok frowned. “This wasn’t how I envisioned our first date going.”

You laughed, appreciating the way he’d lightened the situation. Slowly, you leaned in to press a chaste kiss to his cheek, missing the way his eyes widened in surprise and the way his cheeks grew red under your lips.

“You have plenty of chances to make it up to me.”

Present.

“The usual strawberry sundae that my favourite couple has been ordering every Sunday ever since they met,” Monet announces as she sets down a glass bowl decorated with strawberry cheesecake ice cream decorated with slices of strawberries and dollops of whipped cream.

“Mmmm!” You lick your lips in anticipation as you pick up a spoon to dig into a particularly large clump of cream, but stop when it hits something hard.

You furrow your eyebrows and brush away the cream with your spoon to reveal a plastic ball sitting on a small decorative bowl nestled neatly in between scoops of ice cream. “Monet? Where’d she go?”

You move to look at Hoseok, directing the question to him, only to raise an eyebrow when you find him standing to peer at the ball you’d uncovered. Your confusion only grows when he plucks the ball out of the sticky confection and wipes it off before kneeling on the floor in front of you.

And then it hits you. The flowers. Why the normally early Jung Hoseok was running late today. Why Monet and Jimin had made a surprise appearance at the ice cream parlour. Why Monet and Jimin had been sneaking giggles at you the whole time you relived the beginning of your love story with Hoseok. Why the ice cream had taken an absurd amount of time to arrive. The revelation hits you like a 2-tonne truck, much like it had when you realised you’d fallen in love with Jung Hoseok.

He’s proposing.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, Hoseok's smile wavers slightly as he tries to hold back his tears. “Y/N, I fell for you the moment I saw you. I’m so glad you fell off your strawberry floatie, not because it embarrassed you, but because it gave me an excuse to talk to you. I’ve never met an accomplished person that manages to stay as humble as you do. You never take things for granted, you always make sure to thank everyone even when it was primarily your win, and I love you for that. I love everything that you are and everything that you stand for. I love the way your eyes crinkle in the sun when you’ve forgotten to bring your sunglasses so you have to borrow mine. I love the way you snort when you laugh, I love the way you complain that summer is too hot for cuddling, but you can’t fall asleep without holding me.

“I love how you always find something to work for and the way you’re not afraid to put in the hours and effort to make it happen. I love the way you constantly push me to be my very best and support me, even when I fail. I love everything about you, because you’re my very own brand of perfection, no matter what you say. Sometimes I still wonder how I, a dinky little lifeguard from a small town, managed to land the most gorgeous, talented, caring, loving, and happiest woman in the world, but then you remind me how well we fit together, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. So, what I’m trying to say is…”

You feel the tears spilling from your eyes as Hoseok tearily professes his love for you, fingers trembling as he tries again and again to open the plastic ball. You lean forward and encase his hands in yours, helping him to open the case as best as you can despite your blurry vision. You giggle quietly at his inopportune clumsiness, heart melting as you look at the love of his life.

When you succeed, Hoseok smiles at you, lower lip quivering with emotion as he finishes his speech and holds the ring out to you. “Will you marry me and give me the chance to spend the rest of my life showing you how much I love you?”

You let out a sob and throw yourself at Hoseok, wrapping him in an embrace that you hope conveys your feelings.

“Yes!” you squeal excitedly, watching Hoseok beam widely at your acceptance.

“Yes,” you whisper quietly, more tears spilling out of your eyes.

And you repeat the words until you’re breathless and you sound like a broken record, unable to form any other coherent words to convey the love you had for the man you held close to your heart.

“Yes, I will marry you.”

You and Hoseok don’t hear the thunderous applause of the patrons and onlookers in the ice cream parlour where your love story had blossomed. You don’t see anyone except the love of your life in front of you, somehow still breathtakingly gorgeous as tears of joy roll down his cheeks. You don’t feel anything except euphoria and the way your fiancé’s fingers feel around yours as he slides the engagement ring on your finger.

You don’t feel anything but a giddy sort of anticipation as you pull him in for a kiss, eager to begin the rest of your lives together.

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this fic. Please consider reblogging so that others are able to find my work! It gives me a lot of motivation to continue writing.

MList

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shealwaysreads · 3 years

Text

Sterek Fic Rec: The Future!Fic Edition

Kiss Me on This Cold December Night by @leslieknopeismyspiritanimal

The hairs on the back of Stiles’ neck tingle, and he swallows hard against the unmistakable sensation of someone staring at him. He’s tempted to just ignore it, but after a few seconds, his curiosity wins out and he looks up from his phone instead. He doesn’t notice anything right away, flicking his gaze along the people on the other side of the intersection until he suddenly stops and backtracks. It’s a little hard to see, what with the thick drizzle and the cars whizzing between them, but he would recognize that glorious bearded face anywhere, even after six years. Holy shit.

Well. This is so damn good okay? We've got grown up Stiles with his own career, and Derek who is an architect and has had therapy and is happy and safe and well adjusted. AND THIS IS THEIR MOMENT. Cue Stiles getting all hot and bothered by Derek successfully adulating, and Derek being blown away by Stiles' everything. And there's Christmas. So you know I'm in love with this fic.

Homing Mechanisms by @sterekationstation

Magnetoreception: The sense which allows an organism to detect a magnetic field to perceive direction, altitude or location. How birds find their way home.

Stiles returns to Beacon Hills after four years at Stanford, only to find out that Derek has moved back into town. He brings him a housewarming gift. Derek makes food. Things escalate from there.

Derek Hale and happiness - the ultimate kink - a sentiment shared by Stiles in this fic. It’s just perfectly done - both of our fave boys back in Beacon Hills and finally, finally able to settle and be happy. Favourite line including ‘Stiles' brain bluescreens for a second when he sees how dark Derek's eyes are.”

Testing the Waters by @coyotequeens

Prompt fill: "I would LOVE a future!fic where Stiles randomly bumps into Derek, maybe in nyc. He's in college now or maybe even post college, and this is their first time interacting since Derek left Beacon Hills. Stiles is obviously SMOKING HOT now and Derek finally got his shit together and is a successful 30 something."

This is awesome - Derek is settled and content and he has friends and a job and he’s happy okay? And then Stiles shows up and it’s even better. In such a short fic with no ‘plot’ grimm just writes such a believable experience and it feels like the start of the future.

How to Be a Normal Person by @drunktuesdays

Instead he sits for a moment, looking at the empty search box, fingers on the home row the way his mother taught him. He thinks about that, and about the hole in the wall he’d lived with for so long, and the way Isaac had grinned at him last night when he’d finally gotten around to plugging the refrigerator in.

He finds himself typing in, “how to be a normal person.”

This is just brilliant. Hilarious and tragic and heartfelt all at once, I love this Derek who doesn’t have his shit together, I love his growth. I love Trixie more than possibly anything in the world. And Stiles totally loves Derek. So, you know, it’s all good.

Sunshine (Walking On) by @jentnova

Derek Hale has a good day. (There is ice cream.)

All of this is good. The whole fic is just filled with such warmth and gentleness and love it’s just a delight to read. Derek Hale is happy here, so so happy. You will be smiling the whole way through.

Believer and a Homecoming by ldsme

“I’m serious Derek,” Stiles whispers. “Come home.”

Okay so “gratuitous beards” and “explicit peace” are both tags on this work which I feel negate any need for me to wax lyrical about it. BUT IM GONNA ANYWAY. This whole fic is just. Ugh. It’s just so satisfying and achingly sweet, and Stiles has no idea until he does. And Derek is so hopeful and open and so surprised that he is loved and I could cry at how much he deserves this ending.

How It’s Meant to Be by TangentiaLives

"Hey," Derek replies, a ready smirk curling the edge of his mouth. He's always ready to smile when Stiles is around: it just seems to happen that way.

Again, Stiles says, "Hey." Derek waits expectantly, and Stiles pushes off the Jeep, shoving his hands into his pockets and ambling towards Derek like he's got all the time in the world. "Do you want to get something to eat?" he asks, the quiet confidence that Derek will say yes making the timbre of his voice a little lower than usual.

This is short, but sweet, and totally lovely. Just what we want to happen to these two - naturally falling into one another.

Inexorable by @notthequiettype

Derek might never admit what he wants from Stiles, what he's wanted for so long, but Stiles is okay with that most days. It's been years of this low thrumming, pulsing want between them and Stiles thinks of it like a living thing, warm and familiar and constant.

I just really like the way this plays out - Derek’s restraint (for so many reasons) and Stiles actually being content with how things are, but still needing to mention it, to push. Because he’s Stiles and because he knows that he and Derek deserve more. So lovely.

The House That Built Us by @cleverlittlekit

"I like open concept," Stiles says, and Derek wonders briefly if he is simply thinking out loud. "And lots of seating. Like, maybe a big, cushy sectional. A couple of recliners. Lots of room to lounge."

Derek nods, mostly out of habit. He's become accustomed to hearing Stiles without really listening to him.

Derek builds a house, Stiles doesn’t understand, until he does. This is so sweetly done, Derek is so lovely, and the final scenes in the house with dinner and the tour are perfect.

I know My Kingdom Awaits and They've Forgiven My Mistakes by @bleep0bleep

It’s now, watching the fading rays of the afternoon sun on the longest day of the summer, that it becomes more and more apparent that Stiles needs a car. Stiles gets a text message from an unexpected someone. And a gift.

This is just, so believable actually. It could be a canon future and I love that. It’s short and has a hopeful ending, and the Sheriff is amazing.

#sterek #eternalsterek #sterek fanfic #sterek fic rec #things to read #clearing out my drafts

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rivers-rambles21 · 3 years

Text

The one where Y/n’s a tease

Part 4 of The one where Bucky has a cute neigbour series!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader (f)

Summary | Reader and Bucky become friends after he saves her from a creep in their apartment building. Each chapter explores a different point in their friendship - very slow burn!

Warnings | 18+ only, Smut in later chapters (this is a slow burn), swearing, unprotected sex, oral sex, cockwarming (later chapters)

Will include elements of TFATWS in later chapters

Chapter 4 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 1 | Masterlist

I now realise the general theme is Y/n not being able to find her keys.

Whoever invented sundresses either needed a medal or slap. Bucky was in agony. The city was in the middle of a heat wave and neither of you could get comfy. You’d taken to dressing in sundresses every day, the soft fabric having a tendency to rise higher and higher up your legs throughout the day. There was something about the way they hung on every curve, how they framed your chest and revealed inch upon inch of tanned skin.

You’d met one another in Central Park, intending on grabbing an ice cream and relaxing in the sun after a challenging day at work.

“He’s such a dick, I can’t see how they can make it compulsory to attend but won’t pay over time!”

Bucky merely nodded in response; he’d quickly learnt you’d rather he listen to your rants than fix your issues.

“If I could change jobs I’d do it in a heartbeat” You continued as you reached the front of the icecream queue.

“Hi, one strawberry and one mint choc chip please - oh and make the mint one two scoops” Bucky dug around in his back pocket before pulling out his wallet, handing over a few bills to the server. “Thank you.” He took both cones and handed you your favourite.

“I’ll get the next one” You promised. Without thinking, you took a long lick of your icecream, moaning as the coldness hit your tongue.

Bucky choked.

“C’mon lets get somewhere cooler, you look hot” Your eyes bugged out as you realised what you’d said. “I mean you look warm! With your long sleeves and gloves!” You were quick to correct yourself which earnt a chuckle from the man besides you.

It didn’t take long for you both to reach a quiet vacant area which offered a gratuitous amount of privacy. Dropping down onto the grass, you stretched your legs out as you continued eating your icecream.

“Do you mind?” Bucky asked, holding out his cone. You took it from him as he peeled his gloves off, sighing as the gentle breeze hit his fingers. He then began trying to roll up the sleeves on his henley, grunting in frustration as it got caught on his forearm.

You glanced around double checking there was no one in sight before offering a solution. “You could just take it off, would do your skin some good, getting a bit of colour”

Taking another lick of your icecream you attempted to look indifferent on the matter.

Bucky took a hold of the bottom of his shirt before pausing.

“What’s up?” You asked, taking another bite from your ice cream.

“The scar isn’t the prettiest to look at.” He confessed, his head bowed in embarrassment.

Your elbow jutted out and nudged him, forcing him to look back at you “Hey… it’s only me” You smiled back at him, trying to reassure him how little you cared about the scar.

He smiled back before taking the plunge and lifted the shirt over his head. You tried, you really did but you couldn’t help but stare at his chest. To say he was ripped would be an understatement. You weren’t overly bothered when it came to body types but fuckkk his was doing something to you.

Snapping yourself out of your trance you noticed how his shoulders hunched over, as though he was trying to make himself as small as possible.

“Trust me when I say this Buck, no one will be looking at your scar.” You laughed, fanning yourself in an attempt to boost his confidence and take the edge off.

He chuckled in response and visibly relaxed, the pink in his cheeks growing from not only the heat.

You handed him his ice-cream back and returned to your earlier conversation. Your prick of a boss had reiterated today how important it was you attended the charity gala that night, some bullshit about being a team player.

In the midst of yet another rant, Bucky hadn’t been able to take your eyes off you. You looked radiant in the sun, a single bead of sweat every now and again trailed from your neck, down into the valley of your breasts. It took all his self discipline to not reach over and have a taste. And then there was the damned ice cream. He shouldn’t have ordered you two scoops as you took your sweet time licking and sucking on it, completely oblivious to the show you were putting on for him. What he’d do to replace that ice-cream with - no he couldn’t let his mind wander there. He felt his cock twitch as he watched you swallow the cream, your throat bobbing with the motion.

“I reckon if I implement the Jim Halbert approach I’ll be home by ten”

“The what now?”

“Jim? From The Office?”

“You’ve lost me doll. I don’t remember you mentioning Jim before? Is he in Legal?”

“It’s a TV show, he basically said you should have a memorable moment with the host and take a photo to prove you were there. Once that’s done you can leave without it being questioned.” You handed Bucky your empty cone without question, it had become somewhat of a habit. You ordered two scoops and he finished off your cone.

He took it from you and finished it in a couple of bites.

“Well if you make it through and get home early enough I’ll order us some pizza and we’ll spend the rest of the night watching The Office, deal?”

“Deal”

_______________________________________________

You made it back in record time. You laughed, even danced with a few people, took a couple of photos and was there for when your boss got slapped by one of the waiting staff much to your delight. In and out in under 2 hours!

“Hey Buck! Have you ordered yet?” You yelled as you knocked on his apartment door, looking for your keys with your other hand. “C’mon where are you” You muttered.

Bucky's door swung open and was instantly stunned at your appearance. He hadn’t seen you before you left for the evening and he was glad he hadn’t as he was sure he would’ve crossed a line. Your dress was strapless and fell to the floor, hugging every curve you had. The black velvet looked soft to touch and flattered your chest.

“Wow”

Your head snapped up and looked back at the man in front of you. His eyes trailed up from your legs, over your stomach and to your chest before meeting your eyes.

“How do I scrub up?” You joked, giving him a twirl.

“Beautiful doll” Your cheeks flushed at his compliment and you looked back into your purse, struggling to locate your keys.

“Can I come in?”

He stepped to the side and gestured you in. Once in his kitchen you turned your purse upside down, realising your worst fear. “Oh god, this can’t be happening.”

“Whats up?” Bucky decided to torture himself and stood behind you, peering over your shoulder.

“I’ve left my key in my apartment” Not realising how close he was, you leant forward, your head falling into your hands as your elbows rested on the counter. Unintentionally, your ass had stuck out, pressing back into Bucky's crotch. The super soldier couldn’t believe his eyes, it was as though the very fantasy he’d played out in his head countless times was finally coming true. From this angle he couldn't help but imagine gripping your hair as he pounded into your tight pussy, filling his apartment with your screams as you milked his cock for all its worth.

Before he could get away from himself he took a step backwards, despite every fibre of his being screaming at him not to.

He wasn’t the only one affected as butterflies exploded in your stomach, your core aching with the possibilities of what lied beneath his jeans. But, before you had a moment to enjoy it, the moment was over and Bucky, ever the gentleman, had stepped aside.

“I’ll call the super” You grumbled.

“I’ll order the pizza” He replied all too quickly.

20 minutes later and you were at your wits end. It took forever to get through to the super and when you eventually did, you were hardly reassured by his response. He’d advised he would try and get to you within the next two hours but he wasn’t making any promises - so much for looking after your tenants.

“Am I okay to hang out here with you until he arrives?”

Bucky simply raised his eyebrow, finding it amusing you’d even have to ask.

“Thanks Buck” Lifting your hands to your hair, you started removing the pins, letting your head relax. Whilst putting your hair down you couldn't hide your discomfort in your dress as it restricted your movement.

“Do you want to borrow some clothes?”

“That would be amazing”

You watched as he went off into his bedroom - could you even call it that considering there wasn’t a bed? You sighed in relief as you ran your fingers through your hair, gently massaging your scalp, welcoming the relief.

“I’ve left them in the bathroom for you”

“Thanks Buck” You flicked your heels off your tired feet before padding into the bathroom, gently closing the door behind you. It didn’t take long for you to change into the sleep shorts and t-shirt he’d given you. Using your hair tie, you tightened the pants to stop them from falling down. Rolling your bra into your dress, you returned from the bathroom feeling far better than you did when you entered.

“Better?” He asked, pizza box in hand as he pulled two plates from the cupboard

“Much” You replied, sitting down on one of the dining chairs.

An hour later and you were both stuffed and the effect of the beers you’d been stealing from Buckys fridge were starting to have an effect.

“C’monnnn it will be fun!” You whined as you tried your best to tuck your toes under Buckys leg in an attempt to warm them up.

With a sigh he lifted your feet from under him and stood from his seated position, heading back towards his bedroom. Returning a moment later, he resumed his original position and started slowly slipping socks onto your cold toes.

“I’m waiting doll”

His voice snapped you out of your trance - you’d been watching his every movement, how he gently cradled your feet as he slid a sock onto each one before squeezing them gently.

“Okay, I’m going to fire these over to you quickly so just respond with whatever comes to mind okay?”

He nodded in response.

You scrolled through the list on your phone before settling on a set of questions.

“Favourite snack?”

“Cashews”

“Favourite Avenger?”

“Cap”

“Least favourite Avenger?”

“Hawkeye”

“Huh wow didn’t - anyway! Age you had your first kiss?”

“12”

“Age you lost your virginity?”

“17”

“Favourite place?”

“Wakanda”

“Any secret talents?”

“I can play the piano”

“Really?”

Bucky nodded in response, taking another swig of his beer.

“Cats or dogs?”

“Cats”

“Favourite neighbour?”

“Y/N”

You smiled at that one before becoming a little bit braver.

“Favourite position” You asked, mumbling your words as you quickly took a sip of your drink.

“What was that?”

“Favourite...position” You repeated, meeting his eyes.

Bucky gulped, his eyes not moving from yours. “Cow girl when I’m generous, missionary when I’m in control”

You blinked a couple of times, your mind racing as you processed his words.

“Good..too...uh… know” You gulped before racing to the next question, trying your best to not think about just what he meant by generous and in control. “City or country?”

“Country”

“Bike or car?”

Before he could respond your phone chirped, signalling a notification. Glancing down, you read the message - Won’t be able to make it tonight, will try and get there in the morning

“Fuck.” You muttered, clearing the notification from your screen.

“What’s up?”

“I won’t be getting into my apartment until tomorrow, do you mind if I stay here?”

Bucky looked towards his bedroom, his heart sinking when he remembered he didn’t have a bed. Reading his expression, you began “The floor is fine, I don’t mind-”

“No” he replied, cutting you off. “You’re not sleeping on the floor.” Bucky thought it was bad enough you had to hang out in his sorry excuse for an apartment but hell would freeze over before he allowed you to sleep on the hard floor. “I’ve got an idea.”

You watched as Bucky opened his door and walked out into the hallway. He started fiddling with the window which filled the back wall between your two apartments; the lock snapping under his strength. Lifting it up, he swung his leg over the ledge, landing on the fire escape.

“Buck, what are you doing?” You whispered, conscious of your neighbours and the late hour.

He took a step backwards and leant down, his face visible through the window as he stared at you, his eyebrow raised slightly as though he was wondering if you really just asked that.

“Just… be careful okay?”

He nodded in response and went back to the task at hand.

A few seconds later you heard another snap and the sound of your window opening. Moments later your apartment door swung open with a smug Bucky on the other side.

“My hero” You beamed up at him, your appreciation evident on your face.

You quickly went back into his apartment, gathering your things in your arms.

“I’ve wedged the window shut so you’re safe for the night, I’ll get you a replacement lock in the morning.”

Returning to your apartment, you dumped your belongings on the side table, turning back to Bucky. “Thank you, I don’t know what I’d do without you.” You confessed, overcome with admiration. Before you lost your nerve, you pressed your body against his, your arms looping around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug. You held in a sigh as you felt his arms respond and wrap around your waist, returning your embrace. Rather reluctantly, you pulled back as did Bucky, his arms returning back to his sides.

“Goodnight doll”

“Night Bucky”

You slowly closed your door and smiled to yourself. Tugging his sleep pants down your legs, you folded them up and left them on top of your discarded dress. After completing your nightly routine, you sank into your soft bed sheets, inhaling Bucky’s scent left behind on his tshirt, silently wishing it was himself wrapped around your naked body and not his top.

#bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky fanfic #bucky fluff #tfatws

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onlyfansdotcomslashshawnmendes · 3 years

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Start of Something Great - pt. 2

ALRIGHT, YALL WANTED IT, SO HERE IT IS! Is it a good ending? Maybe. You’ll have to find out. C: If you haven’t read part one to this fic, and would like to, you can here.

NSFW/ Smut / Jock Shawn/ Cheating with Shawn / ANGST / gratuitous oral scenes / Impatient h*rny Shawn /vague college boy style daddy kink / Angsty /Catching feelings /undescribed femme character because fuck non-inclusive descriptions✨ / did I mention angst? / 6.4k words

The lights were completely off, only the bathroom adjacent to the bed provided lighting from a slim crack in the doorway. Comforting scents of sandalwood and frangipani lingered in the air. The nag champa incense long since burned out. But it mixed with the musk in the air, the soft sweetness of coconut oil seemed to stick just below her nose. Warm, it was so warm, wrapped in blankets and wrapped in his arms. His body was warm, and soft, arms laced around her waist. One of his legs rested between hers, soft lips moved up her arm; to the tip of her shoulder and then down the curve of her neck and up to her jaw. The music was playing softly, but close to the bed, currently John Legend. Her eyes were closed as she soaked up the feelings of the moment. Large hands and calloused fingers moved up her stomach, over her breasts. She felt his lips move higher, teeth nipping at her earlobe, breath hot. “Tonight I'll be the best you ever had. I don't wanna brag, but I'll be the best you ever had.” She couldn’t help but laugh softly as he sang the lyrics against her jawline. He sang too well for just some hockey player, she’d told him that before, but now wasn’t the time. “Shawn!” she scolded in a whisper, giving him a shove. She turned now to face him, looking up at him as if her head wasn’t under his chin. Still he wrapped his arms back around her, his fingertips grazing her spine. Sometimes she swore he could feel the electric currents he sent through her body. “You had to ruin the moment,” she teased before leaning in and kissing the tip of his chin once. She moved back then, slowly pulling herself from his arms. A heavy sigh came from the curly haired boy, his hands holding her wrists trying to keep her in the bed. “I need to go Shawn,” she said in a whisper. “Stay the night,” his voice was almost a muffled huff, “You said he’s out of town.” She sighed, for a moment paused in her attempt to leave. “He is out of town, but I have to FaceTime him before I got to bed.” her tone made it sound like it made so much sense, almost like scolding him for not understanding. A huff came from Shawn, almost like a sneer as he fell back in bed. He wasn’t holding onto her wrists anymore. “Fine, go.” he said softly. “It’s literally 11pm anyway, if he believes you’re in the library this late on a Friday night, more power to him, I guess.” She scoffed at that, “You’re such a bitch sometimes Shawn, you know that? Why don’t you just call your round two and get off my ass?” Her tone was irritated with him, but so was she, and she saw no reason to pretend different. “Right,” he said in a tired tone, “I forgot you’re just here to get some good dick and then go back to your otherwise perfect sweet caring boyfriend who does nothing wrong.” his tone was almost mocking. “He is sweet Shawn! He’s a really nice guy, and he cares about me a lot! He’s not a dumb jock who sleeps his way through life and who’s biggest concern is if his hair looks okay.” her tone was so defensive and she wasn’t even sure if she was trying to convince him or herself. “Yeah but you don’t love him, do you?” Shawn’s voice was softer now, as he turned his head, looking over at her. There was silence between them, she didn’t know how to answer that. She cared about her boyfriend, of course. But if she loved him, why did she keep coming back to Shawn. Why did being in Shawn’s arms feel so right, in a way she’d never felt before. Why did she feel a pang of jealousy at the idea of Shawn taking her advice and calling a round two. But before she spoke, Shawn did, looking over her, “I can’t do this anymore.” It caused her to look back at him, almost shocked, “What?” her question was so quiet that she almost didn’t hear it herself. “This,” he answered, waving his hand around the room, clearly he heard her question. “I’m not doing this, I’m tired of being someone you come to when you want some dick. I liked it better when we were friends, I wish we’d never even fucked.” he said shaking his head. Everything about what he said, made her feel sick to her stomach. And she wasn’t sure if he said he’d have rather never done this, or the fact that ‘fucked’ sounded so casual, emotionless. “Shawn we were never friends,” she said eyes locked on him. “We had class together and you flicked paper balls at me until we had to work on a project together. And you barely did any of it, and you were annoying. And finally once you knew my name you decided to try and fuck me at a party,” her tone was bitter as she threw his own word back at him. “Nice,” he said nodding, “Glad we were never friends, at least I’ve been...just some dick this whole time.” he said giving her SUCH a fake smile. “Shawn you can’t be serious,” she sighed, “You can’t be upset about this for real.” her voice was almost exhausted. For a moment, he was quiet, looking over her, “Listen, I like you,” he said in a way that made it almost sound like an insult. “And if you want to stay with your boyfriend that’s fine. I..guess I am not the one to decide if you love him or not.” he said looking over her for a moment, “But I can’t...keep doing this and then watching you go home to some other guy.” he said shrugging. “So, I won’t do it.” he said, “Leave now please,” he added, “I’m going to go take a shower.” His voice was almost monotone, as he got out of the bed and walked himself into his bathroom. He closed the door behind him, leaving the room she was standing in entirely dark. She heard the shower turn on, and for a moment she still just stood there. He liked her? What did that even mean? Well, until that moment she hadn’t even been entirely sure he liked her as a person, but she supposed that meant he did. But did he mean he loved her? Or was that just a polite way of letting her know he didn’t hate her before he went off on her about her boyfriend. He didn’t use the word love, but he did when he mentioned her feelings. Did he just expect her to break up with her boyfriend to feed his ego about being the only man she was ...’fucking’? After a moment she decided it was either the worst love confession of all time, or he’d just had an ego trip from hell. Neither made her feel better, and neither did anything to ease the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. Somewhere along the lines, she’d fallen in love with him. He’d told her not to but she did it anyway. It was why she kept coming back. The only reason she’d hooked up with him in the first place was because working on that damn project with him gave her the biggest crush. She swore he’d known it, he had to, or else he’d have never asked her to have sex with him, right? It was what made her keep coming back for a taste of him, even if guilt of cheating on her boyfriend was eating away at her. She loved her boyfriend, or at least she told herself. But Shawn gave her butterflies. The way she felt when he complimented her made her feel a type of beautiful she’d never felt before. She’d tried to convince herself it was just good sex. But it wasn’t. Somewhere between the car sessions and the milkshakes and fries he’d talked her into afterward...she’d fallen in love. A type of love she’d never felt before. Comfort. But she hadn’t let herself feel it, not with Shawn. She never felt comfortable in a crowd. No, they were two different clicks. He was with the jocks, the funny, the painfully handsome, the stupidly popular. And she... well she’d had three classes with him prior to their group project, and he still hadn’t known her name. A nobody, ro him just some nerdy girl with a major he’d never asked about. It didn’t matter how she felt around him when they were alone. That wasn’t love, she’d told herself, he treated every girl he fucked that way. That had to be true, right? Awkwardness of standing there, naked in his bedroom finally took over. With a soft sigh, she grabbed her clothes, pulling on each piece. Once she was dressed, she walked to the door of the bathroom where Shawn was. If this was over, she had nothing to lose right? He at least owed her an explanation of what he meant. Her hand touched the knob, and she turned it, but it stopped half way. Locked. Asshole. With a sigh she grabbed her bag, there really was nothing else for her to do besides go back to her dorm to sulk, and so she did. She went back to her dorm, and she did call her boyfriend, not for long, she couldn’t handle him asking what was wrong. She told him she was sick, not feeling well and needing to sleep. Once the call was over though, she found herself crying. Curling up in her bed, miserable. Even if she weren’t sick, she felt it. Never had a fight with a man made her feel this way, not even her boyfriend. She finally reached for her phone, opening up Shawn’s contact. She looked at the last message from him, his reply to her saying she’d be at his dorm soon. ‘Can’t wait ❤️❤️❤️’ It made her heart ache and she pushed it out of her mind before sending him another text. “Hi” she sent before double texting a “Can we talk?” she didn’t know what she wanted to talk about, but honestly she’d take most anything. Hours came and went, and no message back from Shawn. She looked for the message that he’d read it, but there was none of that either. Eventually, after a bit more tears, and a half pint of ice cream, she fell asleep. When she woke up in the morning, well what was left of the morning, she felt almost hungover. She groaned as she checked her phone, 11:23am. Instantly she opened her messages, no reply from Shawn. But there it sat now, and her heart sank. ‘Read at 3:04am’. She felt a wave of nausea when she imagined what he was doing up so late. Instantly she closed her messages, flipping through her phone and opening Instagram. Straight to his profile, no new posts. Stories? Three. A party. A video of him taking shots. Typical. A video of him and one of his male friends arm wrestling? Okay? The last one, Shawn, and a girl. He held her jaw in one hand, a bottle of beer in the other, pouring the beer into her mouth. Laughs all around, from his friends, from him, from her even. And then he kissed her, beer spilling over the both of them. She could feel tears welling in her eyes again already. She wanted to think he did that on purpose, to bother her, to send her a message. Well if his intent was to hurt her, it worked. But was she even so important to him? It took a moment, but she pulled herself together, she couldn’t be sat here crying over a boy she wasn’t even dating. Even if the thought of him with another girl did make her miserable. The rest of her day, progressed much like her morning. She couldn’t bare to make herself text him again. That evening she was supposed to see her boyfriend. Midway through the day she texted him to let him know she still wasn’t feeling well, and they couldn’t hang out. She just couldn’t drag herself out of this funk. It didn’t help that her boyfriend disregarded her wishes, and that night he came over, bringing her soups and juices. A sweet gesture of course, but here she was sick to her stomach over another man, and this one was being so kind to her. Her stomach in her throat, heart feeling like it was coming out of her chest, she broke up with him. There were tears, and frustrations, but even so, she went through with it. She was honest, confessing to him that she’d fallen for someone else. She didn’t tell him of the...affair the dozens of hookups, but she considered that cruel and unusual. Once he was finally gone, she found herself cursing Shawn, and she picked up her phone again, sending a message. “You’re such a fucking brat” she sent, as if he was he who had made her do what she’d just done. Truth be told, he was right, she should have done it long ago, after the first night. This time, it was much faster. ‘Read at 9:26pm’ A soft gasp left her lips, “Shawn I know you’re there.” she sent, “Answer me.” Once more, ‘Read at 9:30pm’ she waited a moment, before sighing hard. “Shawn, answer me, its important, we need to talk. I’m sorry” She wasn’t sure why she apologized, desperation maybe. ‘Read at 9:32pm’ For a moment, she considered going directly to his dorm, just to smack him across the face, but what would that do? Instead, she opted to call him. Declined, immediately. Finally, she saw the text bubbles popping up on his side of the screen. She watched impatiently until the message popped up. ‘Please leave me alone, I’m trying to sleep, good night.’ With shaky fingers she immediately responded, “Well that’s a goddamn lie.” A brief wait, ‘Read at 9:35pm’. But she got no answer past that, all it did was make her realize that she was in fact trembling. She gave a dramatic soft scream and threw her phone down. With one final sigh she went to microwave herself some ramen and call it a night, as far as she was concerned she damn well deserved it. The night passed, and days passed, she tried to text him a few more times, but no answer from Shawn. Finally, she decided it had been enough. He was going to know how she felt, and if he didn’t feel the same, fine, but she needed closure. He wouldn’t answer her, but that didn’t mean she didn’t know how to get his attention. She took a break from her funk to get dressed up, a fresh shower and hair wash. She even shaved, lucky Shawn. And she sat down, doing her makeup, making sure it was perfect, and her hair, just the way she liked. Finally, time to get dressed. After careful consideration, she picked out a black dress. It was a little tighter on her than when she first bought it, but it did hug all of the right places. And she decided for sure, tonight was the night. She pulled out a push up bra, and some tall heels, ones that made her almost tall enough to kiss Shawn without him leaning down. Under the dress though..that was the real secret. Baby pink lace lingerie, that really did hug every single curve perfectly. Lace on the sides with only a bit of silk to cover the most important bits, heart shaped. Once she was finally done, she slipped her lipstick into her bag, just incase she needed to touch it up, a travel makeup wipe, and some powder, the basics in her mind. She almost felt like a fool walking down the halls like that, but of course girls did it all the time, she just..didn’t happen to be a party girl. In fact, it was already Friday night again, many girls dressed so similar to her walked past her. Silently she found herself praying that she hadn’t missed Shawn before he left for his own party session, it was still a little early after all. Once she arrived at his building, on his floor, right in front of his dorm door, she raised her hand to knock, and then froze in spot. Talking inside? A female voice? She leaned in, pressing her ear to the door, she could have sworn she heard a gasp, or a moan, or a sigh...or something above the nausea in her stomach. As much as she didn’t have a right to be jealous over him, she damn sure was. And with a huff, she knocked on that door, if there was a girl in there, she was determined to interrupt it. After what felt like an eternity, Shawn opened the door, a half crack. And there he stood, curls ever so slightly messy, a little stubble on his chin, and he was shirtless. In fact, he was only wearing grey pajama pants, bare feet sticking out from the pant legs. She tried her best not to stare at his chest, or....abs, or..if those pajama pants fit just right... “Hi, let me in,” she said finally, doing her best to have a stern voice. Shawn quirked a brow at her, “Well, don’t you have good timing.” he said before opening his door, “Come on.” he said before opening that door. “Is someone here?” she asked once she walked in, glancing at Shawn closing his door and flipping the lock. “No,” he said gesturing toward his open laptop on the bed. She took a moment to step over to it, peaking at the laptop screen, almost as if next shed look under his bed. But she gasped softly once she saw the screen, “Porn?” she asked. “I wasn’t joking about your timing,” he said, and as she turned around to face him, he kissed her. It caught her off guard, his hand on her jaw, his lips crushing into hers. It felt the same as it always had, butterflies in her stomach, her body seeming to melt against his. Every question, and accusation and demand she had, seemed to leave her mind. Even if this didn’t go the way she planned, what was one more time? She deserved a good lay right? That was what she told herself anyway. She wrapped her arms around his torso, her fingertips dragging down his back. Moments later it switched to nails as his lips grazed down her jaw, and down her neck. “You missed this dick, huh?” he whispered just below her ear. “Can you not be cocky...for fifteen seconds?” she asked against his jaw. It earned her a soft laugh from the curly haired boy. And he went back to kissing at her neck, nipping and sucking the skin there, but not hard enough to leave a mark. His hands moved over her body, and down her hips, before moving up her back. He unzipped that dress, and already began to pull it off of her. Within minutes, he had that dress off, dropping it beside them. “You look so fucking good baby...” he whispered against her jaw, before leaning up to kiss her lips. She felt her cheeks burn at the compliment, and at him calling her baby. She kept kissing him back, one of her hands moved into his hair, her fingers locking in those curls. Her body almost melted under him, against him still, she felt herself moan into those kisses. “This outfit..” he whispered against her lips, "Let me look at you..” he said pulling back gently and looking over her. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in lingerie before..” he said quietly, his fingertips tracing her figure. “You look like something out of a dream..” he said in a quiet voice. ”You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen..” he said it almost like he was talking to himself. But before she could answer his lips were on hers again. All she managed was a soft ‘Shawn’ into those kisses, but he just hummed against her lips as a response. “I know,” he murmured into the kisses, “I know what I said before, but just one more time..” he whispered. “Shawn,” she breathed against his lips. She wanted to tell him that it should..not just be one more time. But he silenced her with kisses, his hands moving up the curve of her spine. His fingers undid her bra and pulled it off. His lips moved along her neck as his hands moved up over her chest slowly, massaging her breasts. Her hands moved over his body in return, along his sides and over his chest, down the toned muscles. She tilted her head to the side, soft moans falling from her lips as his lips moved along her neck. “I missed you..” she whispered before running one hand up his neck and tangling it into the curls at the base there. Shawn made a sound almost like a huff, and she couldn’t tell if he was laughing because he found it funny or because he didn’t believe her. He pulled her hips forward, his hands on her lower back, making her arch as he kissed over her chest. Little licks and nips as he made his way along her skin. Her hands tangled once more in his hair, playing with his curls and tugging them gently. “That feels so good Shawn,” she whispered, “Do you like sucking those tits?” her voice was soft, almost like a little moan of her own. Shawn gave a low ‘mhm’ under his breath, almost nuzzling his face against her chest. He kept sucking at her skin, licking and sucking over her nipples for a moment. His hands moved lower down her waist, massaging her for a moment, like he just wanted to feel her. And then his hands pushed her panties down, letting them fall as his hands began to massage and knead at her bottom. “You’re so hot..” he whispered against her skin gently. But soon enough he pulled back up, kissing her lips hard. “Let me taste something else..” he said against her lips before slowly pulling back. And he picked up his laptop, closing it and setting it on his beside table. Once he turned back to face her though, she bit at her bottom lip, running her hands up his chest again. “How about this time Shawn..” she said softly, “You let me have a taste,” she did her best to give him the most sultry look she could muster. “You..always go down on me, like everytime we’ve ever hooked up,” she said giving him bedroom eyes, “How about this time you let me spoil you? Let me suck that big cock before you fuck me?” she asked, running her fingertips lower, just above the waistband of his pants. “Please?” There was a moment where Shawn just looked over her, before nodding, “Alright,” he said giving her a little grin, “Who am I to say no to a perfectly good blowjob?” Once he agreed, she nodded, “Thank you daddy,” she cooed with her sweetest voice. She slipped her fingers into the waistband of his pants, and pulled them down, dropping them to his ankles where he slipped them off. He wasn’t wearing any underwear beneath them, and his cock was already visibly quite hard. “Is all this for me?” she cooed, reaching down and wrapping her hand around his cock, slowly stroking her hand up and down the length of it. “It’s so big,” she cooed. She saw Shawn roll his eyes, almost shaking his head, but there was still a smile on his lips. “Sit down!” she said then, in almost a bratty voice, before shoving him to sit on the edge of his bed. Shawn half fell with a little laugh, sitting back on the bed and watching her as she moved down onto her knees in front of him. “You look so handsome,” she cooed looking up at him, running her nails up and down his thick thighs. Her hand finally moved to take hold of his cock and she leaned in, peppering kisses along the length of it. She dragged her tongue along the underside, giving a hum while she did. Her tongue moved higher, around the tip of his cock, and she used the tip of her tongue to tease the slit at the tip. Shawn’s hands were tangling into her hair now, pulling it a bit as moaned softly. Her lips wrapped around the tip of his cock and he gave a shaky exhale. “That’s nice baby..” he whispered. He felt her smile against his cock, and he looked down to see it as well. She was smiling, before taking him deeper into her mouth. All at once she was bobbing her head, sucking hard and hungrily, almost leaning up on her knees while she did like she was SO eager. And truth be told, she was eager, she’d missed him. The noises coming from him were constant, soft hungry whimpers as he pulled her hair a bit tighter “Fuck baby that feels amazing..” he groaned. She pulled back, but only for a moment, spitting against his cock before her hand took over where her mouth had been. She stroked him eagerly and hungry, leaning down to gently suck at his balls. She gave him soft little kisses and licks in-between that made him spread his legs and groan out. “Oh..god...damn,” he groaned, his head rolling to the side and then back. One hand stayed in her hair, but one moved back to rest on the bed, almost like to steady himself. “You’re doing such a good job baby..” he whispered. “Mhn, I love my daddy’s cock..” she murmured against his skin, before popping him right back into her mouth. She felt him throb, just seconds before, at her words, more than her touch. It made her moan against him gently as she pressed her mouth down as far as she could, gagging against him lightly. She felt him shift on the bed, she saw his abs clench, and she pulled back, kissing the tip of his cock over and over. “Do you wanna fuck me now, Shawn?” she cooed, before kissing at the side of his cock now, along it gently. “Yeah..” he whispered, “Absolutely, come up here for me.” he said standing up, and pulling her up, putting her on his bed. He pushed her back, so her head rested on the pillow, before he got up and moved over her himself. He was spreading her legs moving between them, wrapping a hand around his cock and dragging the tip along her inner folds. He was almost shocked to see strings of wetness, not only his precum but his arousal. He’d have never owned it, but his cheeks flushed a soft pink at how worked up she was just from sucking his cock. “Wait,” her voice snapped him out of his almost trance, and he looked up at her, with a soft ‘hm?’ “Condom,” she said softly, “Get one.” For a second, his expression was blank, and he nodded, before opening his bedside drawer, grabbing a condom out of the box in there. “You didn’t make me use one the last time you were here, decided you don’t like my dick as good raw?” His question made her gasp, and she felt her cheeks burn. “Don’t be a asshole, the last time I was here, you showed me a letter showing me you’d been tested and you were clean. You got another one?” she asked. “No, but I’m clean,” Shawn almost scoffed the words as he pulled on the condom. “Right, it’s been a week I’m sure you haven’t put that dick annnywhere else.” she said giving him a look. “You sound jealous,” he added with a soft smile. She huffed, “You know I have toys bigger than that in my drawer right, and they vibrate, you don’t vibrate. You just say stupid shit.” He grinned at that, before taking a hold of his cock now, and pushing up into her, “What drawer?” he asked, leaning up. One hand held her hip, one rested on the bed above her shoulder as he began to thrust into her. “Mhn, fuck Shawn,” she moaned, her hands resting on him, one on his back and one around his shoulders. “Fuck that feels good,” she panted, her pussy already clenching around him. “I know it does baby, it’s good dick, which drawer?” he asked brushing his lips against her jaw. She quirked a brow at him, “The one beside my bed, why do you care hn?” she asked, wrapping her leg around his waist now, pulling him tighter to her, “Just fuck me, Shawn,” she hummed. “Mhn, yes ma’am,” he purred, leaning down a bit closer. But he took one hand, spreading her free leg open as the other hand balanced his weight. He was thrusting into her harder now, already reaching a sort of rough pace. “That feel good? You wanna tell me how good it feels?” he hummed against her jaw. “Your ego is worse than normal...” she panted, unable to keep from letting a moan slip out. “I just want some compliments baby, and I want you to give them to me, come on, tell me,” he whispered against her jaw, “Please? Don’t make me fuck it out of you?” For a moment she grinned, looking over him with such a little smirk. “Oh I think you might have to fuck it out of me Shawn..” she cooed. “I think you might just need to fuck that little pussy until I’m begging you to stop..” she cooed. She was already giving soft moans, but she heard Shawn laugh, under his breath, and she knew she was in for it. “Your wish is my command, princess,” he cooed. Within seconds, Shawn’s hands took her thighs, and he spread them wide open. He didn’t push them up to her shoulders, but he did push them up some. “God your pussy is so fucking pretty..you know that? And so are you, you look like a fucking angel under me,” Shawn purred. He looked over a moment longer before using her legs as sort of leverage as he began to thrust into her. He didn’t put all of his weight on her, but that meant each he almost ‘fell’ into her, and it slammed his cock deep into her. Within seconds, he had her on the verge of sobbing. “Oh fuck, oh fuck Shawn, oh fuck that’s deep!” she cried, her hands clawing down his back instantly. “O-..Oh Shawn!” her voice was strained and each thrust up into her made her cry out, in such a vulgar way. “Tell me you love it baby,” he whispered against her jaw, leaning in to literally lick up her cheek. “Tell me you love that huge fucking dick stretching out your pussy. Tell me how good it is, tell me I’m the best you’ve ever had..” Her voice was shaking so bad it took her a second to even speak. God it felt good, and she realized it even more now that it had been a while. She hadn’t been with him, she hadn’t been with her boyfriend. She’d been so down in the dumps about this that she hadn’t even touched herself. And now, all of that pleasure was flooding in, each thrust made her feel it in the pit of her stomach, burning heat. “Fuck Shawn,” she whimpered after a moment, she knew her nails were dragging blood down his back, she could feel it. “Please,” his voice was hot against her jaw, “Tell me how good it feels,” he panted those words, and it did sound like a plea, like he had to hear or he’d die. “It feels...so good Shawn..” she panted, and she could have sworn she heard him sigh of relief. “Mhm,” he moaned against her jaw, “More,” his voice was so quiet she barely heard it. “It’s the best I ever had Shawn...” she whispered, “I mean it, you fuck me so fucking good..” her voice almost sobbed those words. “I’m going to cum, so fast baby, I’m so fucking close Shawn..” she whimpered as she tangled one hand into his hair and tugged hard. “Do you want that baby, you want me to soak that thick cock? I want to do it..I want to cum for you so bad,” she whimpered those words. He nodded to her, almost breathlessly. “Yeah baby, fuck yeah, soak that cock for me..” he panted, “Show me how good it makes you feel, I just want to make you feel good so bad..” he panted. She nodded to him, eagerly, her response just desperate moans. He was so clearly invested, so desperate and eager to make her cum. He was focused on it, his lips parted softly as he gave quiet moans of his own. His eyes were locked on her, all that moved were his curls that hung in his face while he thrust into her so consistently like that. “I’m gonna Shawn..” her voice sounded like a warning, “I’m gonna cum so fucking hard for you, don’t stop,” she whined. And within seconds she was, her pussy clenching against him over and over. She felt her hips jerk forward, desperate for that friction between them. She gave whining almost sobs of pleasure as he kept thrusting into her while she rode it out. Finally, she pushed at his hands, getting them off her thighs, and she wrapped her legs around him. She pulled him closer with her thighs around his hips and kissed him hard, resting her hands on his cheeks. Shawn didn’t protest, kissing her back, and gently rolling his hips up against hers, keeping his tight to hers. “You fuck me so good Shawn...” she whispered, “You make me want that cock to be mine all the time,” she cooed. “It could have been,” Shawn said after a moment before gently starting to pull back, almost like that ended it for him. “Shawn,” she whispered, pulling at him more so, “That’s..why I came, I broke up with him.” she said looking up at the brunette with almost doll eyes, like begging him to react kindly. “You did?” he asked looking over her. For a moment she saw excitement, and then it was washed over by neutrality. “That’s...I mean that’s good for you but, I don’t get why you’re telling me because you said before like...a few times now that you’re not into me so..” he said shrugging. “Will you like..unhook your legs so I can pull out?” he asked quietly. For a moment there was silence, as she swallowed her pride. “I lied,” she blurted out. “I said that because I didn’t think you would ever date me..I thought you just wanted some easy pussy.” she said looking down, and away from him now, slowly unhooking her legs from his waist. But Shawn didn’t move, “So...you like me?” he asked, brow furrowed, “As in like you came here to tell me you two broke up, so...we could get together?” She couldn’t help but laugh a little, “Yes, why else did I get all dolled up and come over to suck your dick, you silly boy,” she cooed. She reached up, running her fingers through his hair, “Kiss me now,” she said, and Shawn sO eagerly leaned in, crushing his lips to hers, kissing her passionately. “I love you,” he finally said against her lips, “And I want to be your boyfriend. I know we haven’t...like had a chance to date for real before but..I want to now. And I want to be more than friends, and I don’t want us to fuck anyone besides each other.” His tone was so serious, but she couldn’t help but giggle at how sweet he was being. “Of course Shawn, I want that too, very much..it’s...a big part of why I broke up with him, to be with you,” she cooed, stroking her fingers down his cheek. He grinned so wide, like a cat who got the cream, “Good.” he said softly, and he was pulling back from her now, slipping out of her. She leaned up, looking down between them, once more that condom was full. “Shawn, did you...like cum midway again?” she asked and he nodded. “Yeah kind of early on. Don’t...fuck with me about it, I’m your boyfriend now, be nice.” he said pointing at her. “God, Shawn, we talked about how...unsafe that is, I shudder to think of the potential children you have and don’t know about..or..what you could have possibly just given me.” she huffed. “I told you I’m clean,” he snapped at her, throwing the condom away and then flopping down next to her, cuddling with her. He reached down, pulling some sheets over them, before giving his phone an order to start some music. “Mhn, you don’t have to leave this time there’s nowhere to go, you’re my girlfriend now.” he said against her cheek, giving her soft kisses over and over against her soft skin. “Well, I should clean up before we go to sleep,” she cooed playfully, “Also, we have something to discuss Mendes. Wanna tell me why you were watching.. ‘Big dick jock pounds slutty nerd tutoring him’?” she asked arching a brow, “Is that what I am to you? A nerdy slutty tutor?” her tone was slightly raised. “Pft, never,” he said shaking his head, “I..do have a big dick, and a history of projecting though.” he said grinning. “Oh god you’re awful,” she said laughing. “I knew you thought I was a nerd,” she playfully huffed against his shoulder. “Mhn, you are, but you’re also..my girlfriend,” he hummed before kissing her lips once gently. “I love you too,” she cooed against his lips, before stealing another kiss.

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes smut #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fan fiction #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes smut fic #shawn mendes jock #jock!shawn #college!shawn #college shawn mendes #jock shawn mendes

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397bartonstreet · 4 years

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Its 3am, I just wrote a shitty gratuitous drabble of baby Peralta as a teenager.... bon appetit

Weren’t teenagers supposed to hate their parents? In all the books Amy read on parenting they all said to expect their teenagers to pull away from them, to crave independence. And while it did hurt a little when her son started preferring to hang out in his room or with friends instead of his parents, she let him do what he had to do. But this is unexpected, and right now it’s unwelcome.

It’s been a very long day. Two of her detectives didn’t correctly file the evidence in a high profile case they’ve been working on for months, and then someone took her lunch out of the fridge when she was looking forward to it all morning. She wants to nap. She got all snuggled up in her bed with the fluffiest pillow she had when she heard the door creak open and the shuffling of footsteps.

She tried to ignore them, they probably just needed to grab something and then they’ll leave her alone. She needs at least thirty minutes.

“Hey mom.” No. “Mom… hey mom.”

“Go away, I’m sleeping,” she responds, not bothering to open her eyes to look at him.

“Moooooom,” her 14 year old son Sebastian lets out with a harsh whisper. His voice is tinged with this bit of teasing and mischievousness he definitely got from his dad.

“Just give me a minute okay?” She can barely finish her sentence when Sebastian climbs over her to get to the other side of the bed. It’s a painful ordeal, an elbow here and a knee there. She huffs and protests until he flops dramatically next to her. He definitely could have just walked to the other side of the bed, but he’s in one of those moods. A mood that he also got from his dad: wanting her attention but only if it’s through annoying her.

“Dang, it’s like you don’t even love me,” he says, but she doesn’t respond. It only fuels him though. “How was your day though? Captaining the ship? Being all “cops ahoy” or something.”

He scoots closer to her, so his face is close to her ear.

“I’m doing great thanks for asking,” his voice is loud and hurts her eardrum. She exclaims from the shock and slaps him away. In a new effort, she flips on her stomach and lifts her pillow over her head.

“Sebastian, you’re being annoying,” she says, and he lets out a laugh. That small awkward giggle of his that makes the rest of the room laugh with him. And he laughs all the time. With such a simple sense of humor everything has him laughing, ever since he was a baby. And even though he’s trying to get a rise out of her, it makes her smile. It almost makes up for his next tactic, which is to flop right on top of her. He’s not a baby anymore, so he’s heavy. The weight has her complaining and she can barely breathe.

“Seb! Get off, you’re too heavy.” His response is a loud and obnoxious snore. She summons enough strength to push him off, and he tumbles to the floor with a thud. His “ow!” is so dramatic she unconcerned, he’s fine.

“Por estar jugando,” she says in a stern voice, letting him know that it’s his fault for playing too much.

“Oh, the spanish has come out. She means business,” he teases, taking mercy on her by sitting at the foot of her bed instead of crushing her.

“Why don’t you bug your dad? I’m trying to sleep here, leave me alone,” she says, though there’s no real bite in her words.

“He went to the store, I mentioned wanting an ice cream sandwich.”

“Of course,” she says. Jake Peralta spoils his kids. He trips over himself trying to make them happy with whatever he can. It’s extremely sweet and it makes her heart grow ten sizes bigger, except now their kids get way too much candy than they should. They agreed they would try to keep them as healthy as possible but that doesn’t always work when Jake is buying them pizzas whenever they ask.

“I tried to tell him it was fine, it makes me feel bad when he drops everything just for me,” Sebastian sincerely says. And thank god they didn’t grow up to be actual brats because of it. “Anyway, come to the living room with me so we can watch a movie.”

“After my nap.”

“Mamaaaaaaaaa ooooooooh…. Watch a movie with meeee, if I’m not back again this time tomorrow, it’s your fault for not paying attention to me” he sings, his voice getting screechy and abandoning the tune at the end. Amy can’t help the bubble of laughter that escapes, but she can’t let him see that. She’s got to stand her ground here.

It all goes to hell though when she finally looks up at him though. His curls are especially wild today and he’s got on those fluffy socks that make him look way younger than he is. But it’s the light in his eyes that gets her. He’s happy, and playful, and bringing some much energy into her life it snaps her out of her grumpy mood from before. He’s banging out a drum solo on his knees and it’s so silly and on brand with her hyperactive son.

Amy cannot believe how much she loves her life, loves her son, and her 10 year old daughter doing homework in the next room. They’re absolutely perfect. She snaps out of her reverie fairly quickly though. If he’s going to annoy the hell out of her, then it’s law for her to do the same to him

“Wow, that’s so weird,” Amy says, trying to keep her voice as collected as possible.

“What.”

“You were actually conceived in that very spo-”

“Nooooooooooooooooo,” he screams, flinging off the bed and running out the room, tripping against the door frame on his way out. She hops out of bed as she cackles, and makes her way to the living room. Jake is just stepping through the door with a few groceries and his eyes land on Sebastian lying face down on the floor. Amy greets him with a kiss on the cheek.

“What just happened, what did you do,” Jake says with a knowing smirk.

“Just some Parenting.” And Sebastian screeches an inhumane noise from his spot on the tile.

#b99 #peraltiago #my writing #my fics

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allyvampirelass29 · 4 years

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Murder at Cripple Creek

A NOS4A2 Review By: Allyssa J. Watkins

A boomtown swimming with ghosts Dead eyes can't hide Their hedonist living Drinking, debauchery and sinning Scarlet ladies having babies But a whorehouse is not a home Trading flesh for coin Tempting patrons, at the sacrifice of your boy Little Charlie grew up in the hellish dark The sins of the mother Scarring the son's heart Murder brewing in this simmering fleshpot Oh Hateful Harlot, Mother Manx Is is to your neglect and bitter thanks Your baby boy, molested, and you can't protect Your little dreamer from the wicked world you wrought for him Blood on a beautiful boy's hands But the only thing murdered here Is his innocence. Sending his rapist and that lustful bitch Back to hell Charlie, Charlie you're not a villain You had to save yourself.......

Is...... anyone alive out there? It's been days, and I'm still sobbing, my heart desolated by the roiling emotional turmoil, my ignited rage murderous. I don't know about you guys, but...... I'm an absolute wreck. WHY are you DOING this to me, NOS4A2!?!? After the brilliant turn of last week, the sleek sophistication, and glamourous entrapment, "Cripple Creek," was a backhand strike, a blatant violation that I never saw coming, and I spent the entire episode, quivering, sobbing, pleading desperately behind my hands plastered over my face, watching between my fingers, helpless to stop the punishing abuse My Charlie suffers in two different timelines, his bruises of an abused childhood mingling with the fresh wounds of now, as he is tortured, beaten and berated by Bing Partridge!!!

I hated this episode. I HATED it. There, I said it. But I think you're supposed to, I think that was the sole purpose of this traumatizing ordeal. However, as far as Bing (GO TO HELL YOU FILTHY BASTARD) is concerned, the writer's motivation seems drastically convoluted. If this was supposed to be Bing's Big Epiphany, his "redemption," (Ughhh seriously?) This episode fails miserably in accomplishing that. And if this episode was meant to do, what I had predicted back in Season One, cement him as the actual villain of NOS4A2, making him the more immoral evil, be his rise in notoriety, his coming of age as it were, into the monster he was always going to be, giving Charlie and Vic someone to unite their hatred against, it fails to do that too. The biggest misstep of the series, after so elegant a triumph, I'm going to drown my sorrows in ice cream, and try to forget that any of it ever happened. Close your eyes, and think of Christmasland........

I audibly groaned when we opened onto Bing at the Lake House. After so much needless repetition in an otherwise FLAWLESS episode, I REALLY did not want to relive Bing's point of view of the siege, unless it was him getting shot by white knight Chris McQueen over, and over, and over........ Thankfully, the rewind didn't last too long, but I was having NONE of his, "Are you there, God, it's me, Bing Partridge," moment!!! On his knees in the graveyard, (Why...... why are we in a graveyard?) Bing appeals to the heavens, proclaiming his own innocence, asking God to show him what he should do next. I snickered coldly, the whole thing melodramatic, and absurd, as he cries, "I've been so good!!!" Secretly, I was fantasizing about Buffy SLAYING his creepster ass in the graveyard, beating him bloody, before staking him in the heart with a witty saying like, "It's been a gas, Bing, but I get the last laugh!!!" Alas, alack, no such luck. His appeal to the heavens was answered not in divine intervention, but with bird droppings splattering in his mouth, which of course, translated in Bing-A-Ling Logic to, "Kill the FIRST person that tries to help you, bury him in the freshly dug grave, and take his keys!!!" It's PRAYING Bing, you dolt, not preying!!!

While the side quest FINALLY explains how Bing was able to catch up to Charlie and Wayne, after previously believed to be on foot, not to mention shot, which would have been IMPOSSIBLE, supernatural car not withstanding, it's altogether unnecessary. It was the less than scenic route to get to last week's blood-curdling cliff hanger, and I really think we could have done without all the maudlin hullaballoo, and picked right up from there. Also, it creeped me out BIG TIME hearing Bing Partridge say, "Hidey holes," because that's what I called them last week, when Charlie was adorably telling Wayne about his hiding places. "Look at you with your hidey holes, Babe!!!" Needless to say, Bing has ruined that phrase for me FOREVER!!!

"Charlie, Charlie, telling lies, soon he will be crying cries......" A chilling foreboding that was like ice in my veins........ I was definitely crying cries...... I literally WEPT with this horrid little rhyme, and even still I was so naïve, unprepared, for the gut-churning horror that waited in the shadows of a broken little boy's murdered childhood, and the degradation of the beautiful soul that survived it. It's one of the most grueling, and disturbing things, I've ever watched, and like my Darling Boy, strapped to the chair, enduring forced interrogation by gassing, brutal beatings by Bing's homicidal, ham-fisted punches, and some....... deeply unsettling sexual innuendo, I felt like I was the one getting tortured.........

I did utterly enjoy Charlie's feigned relief, as he uses that silver tongue, in valiant effort, to slip his way out of this sickening predicament. "Bing, My Dear Fellow, thank the stars! I thought you had been done in by those wretched McQueens!!" Charlie gasps, thankfully, knowing full well he'd left Bing behind to die, and for good reason. Any other time, this would have worked, Charlie would have used his coaxing charm, and Bing's oafish gullibility, twisted them into a breathtaking manipulation, weaving the lie that he had no choice but to leave him behind, and Bing would have eaten it out of the palm of his hand, because he wants that badly for it to be true. But Bing watched it happen, his face falling, as Charlie sped off without him, and he's DONE playing. Charlie's pleas fall on deaf ears, as Bing drugs him for answers, revealing the fatalities of every single one of Charlie's former accomplices, and with the finality of one apocalyptic truth....... Bing descends into a frenzied, foaming madness.

"Cripple Creek," is the double edged sword that none of us were meant to survive. Switching between the stabbing scenes of Charlie's withering assault, his lifeline to The Wraith, cruelly severed, and the slicing violation of his childhood self, his innocence massacred before our very eyes, our bleeding hearts never stood a chance. I always knew that Charlie's childhood was going to be horrid, downright Dickensian, devoid of magic and light, unloved by his drunk, whore mother, but I had no idea the HELL this beautiful boy endured at so tender an age, forever scarred, betrayed by the one person he trusted, respected, desperately in need of a father figure, only to be exploited in the most heinous way. It's a MIRACLE My Precious Love can even function as an adult, much less still manage to find wonder and beauty in the world, clinging, clawing to hold onto his ember, his remnant of pure light that persevered in a life of darkness.

The inexplicable joy at seeing a young Charlie Manx, aged 11 or 12, tapdancing on stage, along with the giddy marvel that this young actor looks just like our leading man in miniature, is short-lived, as a stranger takes an uncomfortable interest in him....... I don't know how, maybe it was the intent way he watched him dance, or the way he touched his shoulder a little too long, but I knew........ I KNEW this man was going to sexually abuse Charles, I felt it gnawing in my stomach, instantly unnerved, and I hoped with all my heart, my first instinct was wrong....... I'm devastated to say........ it was not.

Not only does this manipulative pedophile Son of a BITCH molest my baby, he first uses him to persuade other boys to flock to his house, knowing full well how much the young ones look up to Charlie, as their leader. He wins Charlie's favour and trust by befriending him, and giving our little darling the one thing he wants more than anything else. Escape. Escape from the vulgar, gratuitously sexual environment, that no young boy should have to endure, a chance to make money, have an honest, respectable living. A chance to have a father figure, a man to look up to, learn from, and take him under his wing. The shop owner offers all of that, with a crooked smile, the charade falling dangerously away, as he knocks back a shot glass, eying our boy, and then says in the cruelest, most chilling voice. "You've earned yourself some fun........"

Thankfully, NOS4A2 was not overly graphic in this lewd portrayal, but the innuendo was enough to make me ugly cry, and seethe, as this sweet child is violated by someone he admires so much, realizing in horror, that he led all of his friends to be mishandled in this same disgusting manner, like lambs to the slaughter. But our brave little Manx was NOT going to let this sin go unpunished, and I clapped, cheering him on, as he uses his sled, now tainted by its means of acquisition, to kill the shopkeeper, dark fire flashing in his eyes, blood splattering on the shot glass, and I've never been so happy, or nervously relieved to see someone die.

His mother comes to him, and instead of crying, and taking her boy in her arms, stroking his dark curls, soothing his fear, and assuaging his guilt, she just scoffs at his accusation, the picture of apathy, and places the blame back on him. "You knew too, Charlie!!!" You WHORE-ABLE Mother!!! Your son was just sexually ASSAULTED, and YOU DARE make it his own fault, like he'd turned a blind eye, and therefore deserved to get raped!?!? Charlie might not have killed her, if she'd actually had a maternal bone in her body, if she'd done SOMETHING, shown any sign of regret or compassion, but she doesn't, and I feel nothing but proud as he finishes her off too. Her death was surprising, given the admonishing way Charlie talks about his mother, creating the impression that she'd been a bane on his existence his entire life, and yes, as a writer, I wanted to see more of a direct conflict between them to make that defining moment that much more satisfying, but as a viewer, I was just grateful she was dead, and Charlie was free. The only murder perpetrated, the only death I mourned at Cripple Creek, was that of Charlie's innocence, his childhood slaughtered.

Meanwhile, Bing continues to torture Charlie in the present day, my chest shuddering with every thrown punch, and I have to bite my lip to keep from screaming. What was the deafening truth spoken that sends Bing Partridge into a flailing rage, you ask?

"Christmasland is for children. We are special...... That's why we can't go......."

Charlie was never going to take Bing to Christmasland. All that this poor dope had lived for, dreamed of, for eight years, amidst his conning his way into dentists' offices, and offing mothers, and it was always a lie. I had suspected it the entire time, especially after the mention of a, "special feast," but what SHOCKED me the most, was the unimaginable heartbreak of Charlie's own deepest secret coming to light, and as Bing draws it forth, it's like drawing blood. In spite of being the architect of his lifelong dream, and greatest solace from a life full of abject misery, Charlie doesn't think he deserves Christmasland, because he sees himself as ruined........

I broke down sobbing, that pain, that anguish, that he's so long carried with him, ripping through me, and I'm tearing up even as I write this, remembering....... Charlie denying himself his own dream, seeing himself as a ruined article that might profane its pure vision, is a tragedy that I can't come back from. It's a sorrowful, aching confession, and yet somehow it explains so much, and in this, his greatest pain, his darkest secret, I felt intimately closer to him. At last........ we see why Charlie never stays long in his Christmas kingdom, why he's so focused on the next child, and the next, sacrificing time with his own daughter, because they deserve Christmasland, and he doesn't. Always the courier, never the partaker. Christmasland is for children, and Charlie Manx never got the chance to be one.

The searing pains of his past still guide so much of who he is today, placing a strict emphasis on propriety in every aspect of his person, in manner, speech, and dress, because he was robbed of his dignity as a child. I also, FINALLY, after two seasons, understand why he turns the children into vampires, a contradiction to his love of them, that has remained frustratingly elusive to my grasp. Charlie's childhood was taken from him, brought to a vulnerable, violent end, and by turning the Lost Children, theirs becomes eternal. They never have to grow up, and lose that purity, that innocence. I also realized, that by giving them their bite back, they are able to defend themselves, meaning no one can ever hurt them again.......

There was so much awful going on, so much inflicted misery, and disorienting chaos, that I was sure I'd heard wrong when Bing decides on an even more dehumanizing method of torture. Did Bing just...... call Charlie a BITCH!? I shook my head, but there it was again, and at this point I'd HAD it. Somebody give me a GUN, I will WASTE this SICK BASTARD myself!!! The skeevy sexual threat against Charlie felt like overkill to me, utterly ridiculous, a cheap shot at adding dramatic effect, especially in the face of his childhood shame. Bing has exhibited absolutely no inclination of...... swinging that way, as it were, before, and yeah they kind of threw in last minute that he'd done this to Mike's father, offscreen, but I don't know WHY he would do that, especially given his particular affinity for Mike. Charlie, himself, pointed out that there was no indication in the Graveyard of What Might Be that Mike needed saving, or that his father deserved punishing. It's awkward, and disturbing, and there seemed to me no method in this madness.

"If I'm a monster....... who deserves to die....... You deserve so much worse." BAM. Hell yeah, Babe!!! Thank GOD, Charlie's quick enough to convince Bing that he too is a monster, and we are spared any further asinine innuendo. Bing, after these series of unfortunate events, beating, berating, and threatening Charlie with rape, suddenly, deus ex machina-esque has a change of heart, and an epiphany that comes a LOT TOO LATE!!! We're both monsters, we BOTH deserve to die....... What we're doing is WRONG. Was I happy when Bing urged Wayne to go, and tell a police officer that his mom is Vic McQueen? Yes. Do I believe he did it out of the goodness of his heart, and has finally seen the light? Freaking HELL NO!!! Bing, after losing Christmasland, has nothing left to live for, and this is his way of giving up. If I can't go to Christmasland, Wayne can't go...... and he decides a bizarre murder/suicide in The Wraith is his final act of redemption.

Before they even showed the car crusher, I was already sobbing profusely, losing my freaking mind, because I had figured out exactly where Bing had taken Charlie.

"There's going to be two less monsters in the world........"

Meaning to crush them both, and kill the Wraith irrevocably, Bing puts on his mask, and presses the button. At first Wayne laughs, and thinks it's a game, his inner vampire child coming out, but when it hits him that Charlie's in actual danger, he realizes he has a choice to make....... Save Charlie Manx, or let him die, and go home safe to his Mom and Lou.

"No, My Boy, this isn't a game, it's time to play, Save Father Christmas!!!"

Charlie calls out frantically, coaxingly to his young charge, and I loved that so much, my heart overwhelmed with emotion. Yes, Wayne, PRETTY PLEASE save Father Christmas!!! A lot of people despised him for what happened next, screaming at Wayne for his choice, even calling him a stupid kid, but I, myself, felt even more love in my heart for that already dearly cherished little lad, as he smiles, and slams down on the button, halting the crusher, and saving Charlie from imminent death.

It's a profound moment, the abductee choosing to save his kidnapper's life, and many cried out strongly against it, but you have to understand....... Charlie Manx has become so much more to Wayne than the scary face in his mother's paintings. Here is a man that has shown genuine interest in his life, his hopes, his dreams, who has treated him gently, fussed over him, concerned, and who has come to love him like a father. Couple that with The Wraith's effects on Wayne, slowly tying the two of them together, it makes perfect sense to me, how this unexpected bond has formed. Yes, had Vic been there, herself, he would have chosen her over Charlie in a second, but when faced with the reality of letting Charlie die, our tender-hearted Bats just couldn't do it.

"Do think of me at Christmastime, won't you?"

CHARLIE. LIKE. A. BOSS!!!! The single greatest moment, and brightest scene in an hour of plunging darkness, is definitely Charlie, snapping back into his delectably dark, unrivaled perfection (although, I must say I still found him incredibly dashing in his distinguished grays) charging Bing Partridge, murder striking in his wild, smouldering eyes, stabbing him, with a reveling whisper, twisting the knife, with this most PERFECT line, that gave me wonderous, reverberating chills!!! I also LOVED how Charlie glowers in his lumpy face and says, "You were never special." DAMN that's HOT!!! My only grievance with an otherwise ENTHRALLING moment, was that inexplicably, yet again, CHARLIE DIDN'T KILL BING!!! Charlie has KILLED for so much less, and while he did offer a vague explanation about prison being so much worse for Bing than hell, it felt like hell frozen over that Charlie would ever let Bing live. I know this is the writers wanting to keep Bing around to creep another day, but MY GOD, hang that Partridge from a pear tree, and HAVE DONE already!!!!!

This was an especially dark episode, but there were flashes of some really beautiful, albeit fleeting moments, first with Wayne and Craig, and then with Millie and Cassie, though the reoccurring theme, the common thread, did seem to be Innocence Lost. I was startled with the The Wraith's sneaky trick of causing a child to forget their parents the longer they are in the car, and BLESS YOU, Craig for helping your son remember his mother, and fight the transformation!!! He tells Wayne that Vic's favourite movie was Jaws, and Wayne tells him that her favourite holiday is the 4th of July. (Which is really cool, because it's my favourite too!!!) This slows the Wraith's effects on Wayne, and becomes a very special moment between father and son, as they fight to keep Vic's memory alive.

"How do you know my mom?"

"She was my best friend."

More overwhelmed sobs, because apparently I haven't cried enough this episode!!! Craig decides not to tell Wayne that he's his father, but our little Bats is ingeniously clever, and I think he's going to figure it out before long!!! Another mini heart attack comes with a second lost tooth. The suspense of Wayne's slow turning, mirroring the tender emotion in this scene was fantastic.

Millie and her mother have a similar moment, and I thought that was BRILLIANT of her to introduce Vampire Millie to her former human self. The two play with dolls, and human Millie talks about how she can't wait to go on a date, and have adventures when she grows up! It's such an endearing scene, and also incredibly sad, as the pale, gaunt shell of Vampire Millie envies her bright, and bubbly human counterpart, seeing the hope and innocence that she's so long been bereft of. "She's me...... Who I'm supposed to be." Cassie explains that her father's sad fantasy is depriving Millie of the gift of growing up, and explains that there's nothing Charlie Manx fears more than a woman with her own mind, and that's the LAST thing he wants his beloved daughter to become. A woman that would eventually leave him. More tears. Poor Millie. Poor Charlie!! Can I just give everybody a hug!?

"Cripple Creek," lingers like BAD Dream, and all I want to do right now, is curl up with Charlie Manx, hold him in my arms, stroke his cheek, soothe him with the tenderest hands, and softest words, tell him he's beautiful, and that he deserves Christmasland, and the world, that he's not ruined, but PURE!!! This was my least favourite episode in the entire series, and just like, "The Gas Mask Man," will be skipped indefinitely in the re-watch, but like I said, it endeared Charlie even more to my heart, and I feel fiercely protective over him, over that goodness that still glows in his dark eyes, despite lifetimes of feeling unloved, and in ever-present pain. All I ever wanted in Season One, was a glimpse into the past that crafted my mysterious and refined vampire chauffeur, and this entire experience, My Darlings, is an exercise in, "Be Careful What You Wish For..........."

#nos4a2 #nos4a2 review #charlie manx #wayne mcqueen #bing partridge #christmasland #the wraith #cripple creek

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mattbrothersscriptwriter · 4 years

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My Top 20 Films of 2019 - Part Two

I don’t think I’ve had a year where my top ten jostled and shifted as much as this one did - these really are the best of the best and my personal favourites of 2019.

10. Toy Story 4

I think we can all agree that Toy Story 3 was a pretty much perfect conclusion to a perfect trilogy right? About as close as is likely to get, I’m sure. I shared the same trepidation when part four was announced, especially after some underwhelming sequels like Finding Dory and Cars 3 (though I do have a lot of time for Monsters University and Incredibles 2). So maybe it’s because the odds were so stacked against this being good but I thought it was wonderful. A truly existential nightmare of an epilogue that does away with Andy (and mostly kids altogether) to focus on the dreams and desires of the toys themselves - separate from their ‘duties’ as playthings to biological Gods. What is their purpose in life without an owner? Can they be their own person and carve their own path? In the case of breakout new character Forky (Tony Hale), what IS life? Big big questions for a cash grab kids films huh?

The animation is somehow yet another huge leap forward (that opening rainstorm!), Bo Peep’s return is excellently pitched and the series tradition of being unnervingly horrifying is back as well thanks to those creepy ventriloquist dolls! Keanu Reeves continues his ‘Keanuassaince‘ as the hilarious Duke Caboom and this time, hopefully, the ending at least feels finite. This series means so much to me: I think the first movie is possibly the tightest, most perfect script ever written, the third is one of my favourites of the decade and growing up with the franchise (I was 9 when the first came out, 13 for part two, 24 for part three and now 32 for this one), these characters are like old friends so of course it was great to see them again. All this film had to do was be good enough to justify its existence and while there are certainly those out there that don’t believe this one managed it, I think the fact that it went as far as it did showed that Pixar are still capable of pushing boundaries and exploring infinity and beyond when they really put their minds to it.

9. The Nightingale

Hoo boy. Already controversial with talk of mass walkouts (I witnessed a few when this screened at Sundance London), it’s not hard to see why but easy to understand. Jennifer Kent (The Babadook) is a truly fearless filmmaker following up her acclaimed suburban horror movie come grief allegory with a period revenge tale set in the Tasmanian wilderness during British colonial rule in the early 1800s. It’s rare to see the British depicted with the monstrous brutality for which they were known in the distant colonies and this unflinching drama sorely needed an Australian voice behind the camera to do it justice.

The film is front loaded with some genuinely upsetting, nasty scenes of cruel violence but its uncensored brutality and the almost casual nature of its depiction is entirely the point - this was normalised behaviour over there and by treating it so matter of factly, it doesn’t slip into gratuitous ‘movie violence’. It is what it is. And what it is is hard to watch. If anything, as Kent has often stated, it’s still toned down from the actual atrocities that occurred so it’s a delicate balance that I think Kent more than understands. Quoting from an excellent Vanity Fair interview she did about how she directs, Kent said “I think audiences have become very anaesthetised to violence on screen and it’s something I find disturbing... People say ‘these scenes are so shocking and disturbing’. Of course they are. We need to feel that. When we become so removed from violence on screen, this is a very irresponsible thing. So I wanted to put us right within the frame with that person experiencing the loss of everything they hold dear”.

Aisling Franciosi is next level here as a woman who has her whole life torn from her, leaving her as nothing but a raging husk out for vengeance. It would be so easy to fall into odd couple tropes once she teams up with reluctant native tracker Billy (an equally impressive newcomer, Baykali Ganambarr) but the film continues to stay true to the harsh racism of the era, unafraid to depict our heroine - our point of sympathy - as horrendously racist towards her own ally. Their partnership is not easily solidified but that makes it all the stronger when they star to trust each other. Sam Claflin is also career best here, weaponizing his usual charm into dangerous menace and even after cementing himself as the year’s most evil villain, he can still draw out the humanity in such a broken and corrupt man.

Gorgeously shot in the Academy ratio, the forest landscape here is oppressive and claustrophobic. Kent also steps back into her horror roots with some mesmerising, skin crawling dream scenes that amplify the woozy nightmarish tone and overbearing sense of dread. Once seen, never forgotten, this is not going to be everyone’s cup of tea (and that’s fine) but when cinema can affect you on such a visceral level and be this powerful, reflective and honest about our own past, it’s hard to ignore. Stunning.

8. The Irishman

Aka Martin Scorsese’s magnum opus, I did manage to see this one in a cinema before the Netflix drop and absolutely loved it. I’ve watched 85 minute long movies that felt longer than this - Marty’s mastery of pace, energy and knowing when to let things play out in agonising detail is second to none. This epic tale of the life of Frank Sheeran (Robert De Niro) really is the cinematic equivalent of having your cake and eating it too, allowing Scorsese to run through a greatest hits victory lap of mobster set pieces, alpha male arguments, a decades spanning life story and one (last?) truly great Joe Pesci performance before simply letting the story... continue... to a natural, depressing and tragic ending, reflecting the emptiness of a life built on violence and crime.

For a film this long, it’s impressive how much the smallest details make the biggest impacts. A stammering phone call from a man emotionally incapable of offering any sort of condolence. The cold refusal of forgiveness from a once loving daughter. A simple mirroring of a bowl of cereal or a door left slightly ajar. These are the parts of life that haunt us all and it’s what we notice the most in a deliberately lengthy biopic that shows how much these things matter when everything else is said and done. The violence explodes in sudden, sharp bursts, often capping off unbearably tense sequences filled with the everyday (a car ride, a conversation about fish, ice cream...) and this contrast between the whizz bang of classic Scorsese and the contemplative nature of Silence era Scorsese is what makes this film feel like such an accomplishment. De Niro is FINALLY back but it’s the memorably against type role for Pesci and an invigorated Al Pacino who steals this one, along with a roll call of fantastic cameos, with perhaps the most screentime given to the wonderfully petty Stephen Graham as Tony Pro, not to mention Anna Paquin’s near silent performance which says more than possibly anyone else.

Yes, the CG de-aging is misguided at best, distracting at worst (I never really knew how old anyone was meant to be at any given time... which is kinda a problem) but like how you get used to it really quickly when it’s used well, here I kinda got past it being bad in an equally fast amount of time and just went with it. Would it have been a different beast had they cast younger actors to play them in the past? Undoubtedly. But if this gives us over three hours of Hollywood’s finest giving it their all for the last real time together, then that’s a compromise I can live with.

7. The Last Black Man in San Francisco

Wow. I was in love with this film from the moving first trailer but then the film itself surpassed all expectations. This is a true indie film success story, with lead actor Jimmie Fails developing the idea with director Joe Talbot for years before Kickstarting a proof of concept and eventually getting into Sundance with short film American Paradise, which led to the backing of this debut feature through Plan B and A24. The deeply personal and poetic drama follows a fictionalised version of Jimmie, trying to buy back an old Victorian town house he claims was built by his grandfather, in an act of rebellion against the increasingly gentrified San Francisco that both he and director Talbot call home.

The film is many things - a story of male friendship, of solidarity within our community, of how our cities can change right from underneath us - it moves to the beat of it’s own drum, with painterly cinematography full of gorgeous autumnal colours and my favourite score of the year from Emile Mosseri. The performances, mostly by newcomers or locals outside of brilliant turns from Jonathan Majors, Danny Glover and Thora Birch, are wonderful and the whole thing is such a beautiful love letter to the city that it makes you ache for a strong sense of place in your own home, even if your relationship with it is fractured or strained. As Jimmie says, “you’re not allowed to hate it unless you love it”.

For me, last year’s Blindspotting (my favourite film of the year) tackled gentrification within California more succinctly but this much more lyrical piece of work ebbs and flows through a number of themes like identity, family, memory and time. It’s a big film living inside a small, personal one and it is not to be overlooked.

6. Little Women

I had neither read the book nor seen any prior adaptation of Louisa May Alcott’s 1868 novel so to me, this is by default the definitive telling of this story. If from what I hear, the non linear structure is Greta Gerwig’s addition, then it’s a total slam dunk. It works so well in breaking up the narrative and by jumping from past to present, her screenplay highlights certain moments and decisions with a palpable sense of irony, emotional weight or knowing wink. Getting to see a statement made with sincere conviction and then paid off within seconds, can be both a joy and a surefire recipe for tears. Whether it’s the devastating contrast between scenes centred around Beth’s illness or the juxtaposition of character’s attitudes to one another, it’s a massive triumph. Watching Amy angrily tell Laurie how she’s been in love with him all her life and then cutting back to her childishly making a plaster cast of her foot for him (’to remind him how small her feet are’) is so funny.

Gerwig and her impeccable cast bring an electric energy to the period setting, capturing the big, messy realities of family life with a mix of overwhelming cross-chatter and the smallest of intimate gestures. It’s a testament to the film that every sister feels fully serviced and represented, from Beth’s quiet strength to Amy’s unforgivable sibling rivalry. Chris Cooper’s turn as a stoic man suffering almost imperceptible grief is a personal heartbreaking favourite.

The book’s (I’m assuming) most sweeping romantic statements are wonderfully delivered, full of urgent passion and relatable heartache, from Marmie’s (Laura Dern) “I’m angry nearly every day of my life” moment to Jo’s (Saoirse Ronan) painful defiance of feminine attributes not being enough to cure her loneliness. The sheer amount of heart and warmth in this is just remarkable and I can easily see it being a film I return to again and again.

5. Booksmart

2019 has been a banner year for female directors, making their exclusion from some of the early awards conversations all the more damning. From this list alone, we have Lulu Wang, Jennifer Kent and Greta Gerwig. Not to mention Lorene Scafaria (Hustlers), Melina Matsoukas (Queen & Slim), Jocelyn DeBoer & Dawn Luebbe (Greener Grass), Sophie Hyde (Animals) and Rose Glass (Saint Maud - watch out for THIS one in 2020, it’s brilliant). Perhaps the most natural transition from in front of to behind the camera has been made by Olivia Wilde, who has created a borderline perfect teen comedy that can make you laugh till you cry, cry till you laugh and everything in-between.

Subverting the (usually male focused) ‘one last party before college’ tropes that fuel the likes of Superbad and it’s many inferior imitators, Booksmart follows two overachievers who, rather than go on a coming of age journey to get some booze or get laid, simply want to indulge in an insane night of teenage freedom after realising that all of the ‘cool kids’ who they assumed were dropouts, also managed to get a place in all of the big universities. It’s a subtly clever remix of an old favourite from the get go but the committed performances from Kaitlyn Dever and Beanie Feldstein put you firmly in their shoes for the whole ride.

It’s a genuine blast, with big laughs and a bigger heart, portraying a supportive female friendship that doesn’t rely on hokey contrivances to tear them apart, meaning that when certain repressed feelings do come to the surface, the fallout is heartbreaking. As I stated in a twitter rave after first seeing it back in May, every single character, no matter how much they might appear to be simply representing a stock role or genre trope, gets their moment to be humanised. This is an impeccably cast ensemble of young unknowns who constantly surprise and the script is a marvel - a watertight structure without a beat out of place, callbacks and payoffs to throwaway gags circle back to be hugely important and most of all, the approach taken to sexuality and representation feels so natural. I really think it is destined to be looked back on and represent 2019 the way Heathers does ‘88, Clueless ‘95 or Easy A 2010. A new high benchmark for crowd pleasing, indie comedy - teen or otherwise.

4. Ad Astra

Brad Pitt is one of my favourite actors and one who, despite still being a huge A-lister even after 30 years in the game, never seems to get enough credit for the choices he makes, the movies he stars in and also the range of stories he helps produce through his company, Plan B. 2019 was something of a comeback year for Pitt as an actor with the insanely measured and controlled lead performance seen here in Ad Astra and the more charismatic and chaotic supporting role in Once Upon a Time... in Hollywood.

I love space movies, especially those that are more about broken people blasting themselves into the unknown to search for answers within themselves... which manages to sum up a lot of recent output in this weirdly specific sub-genre. First Man was a devastating look at grief characterised by a man who would rather go to a desolate rock than have to confront what he lost, all while being packaged as a heroic biopic with a stunning score. Gravity and The Martian both find their protagonists forced to rely on their own cunning and ingenuity to survive and Interstellar looked at the lengths we go to for those we love left behind. Smaller, arty character studies like High Life or Moon are also astounding. All of this is to say that Ad Astra takes these concepts and runs with them, challenging Pitt to cross the solar system to talk some sense into his long thought dead father (Tommy Lee Jones). But within all the ‘sad dad’ stuff, there’s another film in here just daring you to try and second guess it - one that kicks things off with a terrifying free fall from space, gives us a Mad Max style buggy chase on the moon and sidesteps into horror for one particular set-piece involving a rabid baboon in zero G! It manages to feel so completely nuts, so episodic in structure, that I understand why a lot of people were turned off - feeling that the overall film was too scattershot to land the drama or too pondering to have any fun with. I get the criticisms but for me, both elements worked in tandem, propelling Pitt on this (assumed) one way journey at a crazy pace whilst sitting back and languishing in the ‘bigger themes’ more associated with a Malik or Kubrick film. Something that Pitt can sell me on in his sleep by this point.

I loved the visuals from cinematographer Hoyte van Hoytema (Interstellar), loved the imagination and flair of the script from director James Gray and Ethan Gross and loved the score by Max Richter (with Lorne Balfe and Nils Frahm) but most of all, loved Pitt, proving that sometimes a lot less, is a lot more. The sting of hearing the one thing he surely knew (but hoped he wouldn’t) be destined to hear from his absent father, acted almost entirely in his eyes during a third act confrontation, summed up the movie’s brilliance for me - so much so that I can forgive some of the more outlandish ‘Mr Hyde’ moments of this thing’s alter ego... like, say, riding a piece of damaged hull like a surfboard through a meteor debris field!

3. Avengers: Endgame

It’s no secret that I think Marvel, the MCU in particular, have been going from strength to strength in recent years, slowly but surely taking bigger risks with filmmakers (the bonkers Taika Waititi, the indie darlings of Ryan Coogler, Cate Shortland and Chloe Zhao) whilst also carefully crafting an entertaining, interconnected universe of characters and stories. But what is the point of building up any movie ‘universe’ if you’re not going to pay it off and Endgame is perhaps the strongest conclusion to eleven years of movie sequels that fans could have possibly hoped for.

Going into this thing, the hype was off the charts (and for good reason, with it now being the highest grossing film of all time) but I remember souring on the first entry of this two-parter, Infinity War, during the time between initial release and Endgame’s premiere. That film had a game-changing climax, killing off half the heroes (and indeed the universe’s population) and letting the credits role on the villain having achieved his ultimate goal. It was daring, especially for a mammoth summer blockbuster but obviously, we all knew the deaths would never be permanent, especially with so many already-announced sequels for now ‘dusted’ characters. However, it wasn’t just the feeling that everything would inevitably be alright in the end. For me, the characters themselves felt hugely under-serviced, with arguably the franchise’s main goody two shoes Captain America being little more than a beardy bloke who showed up to fight a little bit. Basically what I’m getting at is that I felt Endgame, perhaps emboldened by the giant runtime, managed to not only address these character slights but ALSO managed to deliver the most action packed, comic booky, ‘bashing your toys together’ final fight as well.

It’s a film of three parts, each pretty much broken up into one hour sections. There’s the genuinely new and interesting initial section following our heroes dealing with the fact that they lost... and it stuck. Thor angrily kills Thanos within the first fifteen minutes but it’s a meaningless action by this point - empty revenge. Cutting to five years later, we get to see how defeat has affected them, for better or worse, trying to come to terms with grief and acceptance. Cap tries to help the everyman, Black Widow is out leading an intergalactic mop up squad and Thor is wallowing in a depressive black hole. It’s a shocking and vibrantly compelling deconstruction of the whole superhero thing and it gives the actors some real meat to chew on, especially Robert Downy Jr here who goes from being utterly broken to fighting within himself to do the right thing despite now having a daughter he doesn’t want to lose too. Part two is the trip down memory lane, fan service-y time heist which is possibly the most fun section of any of these movies, paying tribute to the franchise’s past whilst teetering on a knife’s edge trying to pull off a genuine ‘mission impossible’. And then it explodes into the extended finale which pays everyone off, demonstrates some brilliantly imaginative action and sticks the landing better than it had any right to. In a year which saw the ending of a handful of massive geek properties, from Game of Thrones to Star Wars, it’s a miracle even one of them got it right at all. That Endgame managed to get it SO right is an extraordinary accomplishment and if anything, I think Marvel may have shot themselves in the foot as it’s hard to imagine anything they can give us in the future having the intense emotional weight and momentum of this huge finale.

2. Knives Out

Rian Johnson has been having a ball leaping into genre sandpits and stirring shit up, from his teen spin on noir in Brick to his quirky con man caper with The Brothers Bloom, his time travel thriller Looper and even his approach to the Star Wars mythos in The Last Jedi. Turning his attention to the relatively dead ‘whodunnit’ genre, Knives Out is a perfect example of how to celebrate everything that excites you about a genre whilst weaponizing it’s tropes against your audience’s baggage and preconceptions.

An impeccable cast have the time of their lives here, revelling in playing self obsessed narcissists who scramble to punt the blame around when the family’s patriarch, a successful crime novelist (Christopher Plummer), winds up dead. Of course there’s something fishy going on so Daniel Craig’s brilliantly dry southern detective Benoit Blanc is called in to investigate.There are plenty of standouts here, from Don Johnson’s ignorant alpha wannabe Richard to Michael Shannon’s ferocious eldest son Walt to Chris Evan’s sweater wearing jock Ransom, full of unchecked, white privilege swagger. But the surprise was the wholly sympathetic, meek, vomit prone Marta, played brilliantly by Ana de Armas, cast against her usual type of sultry bombshell (Knock Knock, Blade Runner 2049), to spearhead the biggest shake up of the genre conventions. To go into more detail would begin to tread into spoiler territory but by flipping the audience’s engagement with the detective, we’re suddenly on the receiving end of the scrutiny and the tension derived from this switcheroo is genius and opens up the second act of the story immensely.

The whole thing is so lovingly crafted and the script is one of the tightest I’ve seen in years. The amount of setup and payoff here is staggering and never not hugely satisfying, especially as it heads into it’s final stretch. It really gives you some hope that you could have such a dense, plotty, character driven idea for a story and that it could survive the transition from page to screen intact and for the finished product to work as well as it does. I really hope Johnson returns to tell another Benoit Blanc mystery and judging by the roaring box office success (currently over $200 million worldwide for a non IP original), I certainly believe he will.

1. Eighth Grade

My film of the year is another example of the power of cinema to put us in other people’s shoes and to discover the traits, fears, joys and insecurities that we all share irregardless. It may shock you to learn this but I have never been a 13 year old teenage girl trying to get by in the modern world of social media peer pressure and ‘influencer’ culture whilst crippled with personal anxiety. My school days almost literally could not have looked more different than this (less Instagram, more POGs) and yet, this is a film about struggling with oneself, with loneliness, with wanting more but not knowing how to get it without changing yourself and the careless way we treat those with our best interests at heart in our selfish attempt to impress peers and fit in. That is understandable. That is universal. And as I’m sure I’ve said a bunch of times in this list, movies that present the most specific worldview whilst tapping into universal themes are the ones that inevitably resonate the most.

Youtuber and comedian Bo Burnham has crafted an impeccable debut feature, somehow portraying a generation of teens at least a couple of generations below his own, with such laser focused insight and intimate detail. It’s no accident that this film has often been called a sort of social-horror, with cringe levels off the charts and recognisable trappings of anxiety and depression in every frame. The film’s style services this feeling at every turn, from it’s long takes and nauseous handheld camerawork to the sensory overload in it’s score (take a bow Anna Meredith) and the naturalistic performances from all involved. Burnham struck gold when he found Elsie Fisher, delivering the most painful and effortlessly real portrayal of a tweenager in crisis as Kayla. The way she glances around skittishly, the way she is completely lost in her phone, the way she talks, even the way she breathes all feeds into the illusion - the film is oftentimes less a studio style teen comedy and more a fly on the wall documentary.

This is a film that could have coasted on being a distant, social media based cousin to more standard fare like Sex Drive or Superbad or even Easy A but it goes much deeper, unafraid to let you lower your guard and suddenly hit you with the most terrifying scene of casually attempted sexual aggression or let you watch this pure, kindhearted girl falter and question herself in ways she shouldn’t even have to worry about. And at it’s core, there is another beautiful father/daughter relationship, with Josh Hamilton stuck on the outside looking in, desperate to help Kayla with every fibre of his being but knowing there are certain things she has to figure out for herself. It absolutely had me and their scene around a backyard campfire is one of the year’s most touching.

This is a truly remarkable film that I think everyone should seek out but I’m especially excited for all the actual teenage girls who will get to watch this and feel seen. This isn’t about the popular kid, it isn’t about the dork who hangs out with his or her own band of misfits. This is about the true loner, that person trying everything to get noticed and still ending up invisible, that person trying to connect through the most disconnected means there is - the internet - and everything that comes with it. Learning that the version of yourself you ‘portray’ on a Youtube channel may act like they have all the answers but if you’re kidding yourself then how do you grow?

When I saw this in the cinema, I watched a mother take her seat with her two daughters, aged probably at around nine and twelve. Possibly a touch young for this, I thought, and I admit I cringed a bit on their behalf during some very adult trailers but in the end, I’m glad their mum decided they were mature enough to see this because a) they had a total blast and b) life simply IS R rated for the most part, especially during our school years, and those girls being able to see someone like Kayla have her story told on the big screen felt like a huge win. I honestly can’t wait to see what Burnham or Fisher decide to do next. 2019 has absolutely been their year... and it’s been a hell of a year.

#top 20 #films of the year #films of 2019 #10-1 #toy story 4 #the nightingale #the irishman #the last black man in san francisco #little women #booksmart #ad astra #avengers endgame #knives out #eighth grade

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lovely-tothe-bone · 5 years

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"For dessert we dip chunks of fruit in a pot of melted chocolate, and Cinna has to order a second pot because I start just eating the stuff with a spoon."

Katniss Everdeen, Catching Fire pg 205

This fandom doesn't acknowledge Katniss Everdeen chocolate love enough. Sure hot chocolate is frequently mentioned (mainly in place of coffee) but her clear love of chocolate is woefully overlooked and generalized within her love of food by saying she loves to eat and smothering her in various pastries. Give my girl her chocolate! I want more fics with Katniss Everdeen being showered with chocolate in every form. Give her chocolate bars, chocolate cakes, chocolate cookies, chocolate donuts, chocolate fondue, chocolate ice creams, chocolate pudding, chocolate covered strawberries, chocolate cupcakes, brownies, she deserves all the chocolate treats! Insert gratuitous moaning and lip licking and finger sucking and a barely keeping himself together Peeta as well.

#toastedthg #thg #the hunger games #hunger games #catching fire #thg quote #cf quote #katniss #katniss everdeen #cf 15 #katniss meta #everlark

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angelbabylu · 5 years

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Only For The Night // CH

pairing: oc x calum

word count: 8k

warnings: smut, angst, fluff and brief mentions of sexual abuse

notes: dad!sos baby!!!! okay, well more like dad!sos origins. I’ve been writing this fic for like a month now and truthfully, i ended up scrapping the first couple of versions. BUT i really like how the final version came out. special thanks to @5sosnsfw and @aspiringwildfire for reading and editing this fic. i love you both so much!! more notes at the end!

title: from LOVE. FEAT. ZACARI by Kendrick Lamar.

September 2015

“Did you bring me all the way to your fancy house to show off how rich and famous you are?”

The girl perched atop Calum’s marble counters had an unmistakably flirtatious glint in her eyes. With the smallest of movements, she curled the corner of her mouth up into a insinuating smirk. Not for the first time that night, Calum was floored by the unconventional beauty in front of him. There was something in those deep brown eyes, in the soft plush of her lips, the light rosy tint of her cheeks, that pulled Calum in.

This was the very same allure that had caused Calum to respond to her earlier announcement of “I’m craving ice cream now” with “I have some at my house.”

Just half an hour before they had been sipping beers on a sofa in Michael’s girlfriend’s living room. Crystal had decided to throw a party for some superfluous reason or another - one that Calum was sure she had explained to him, but that had slipped his mind as soon as he had heard it. Sometimes, it felt like Crystal threw a party every week and while Calum preferred the comfort of his bed and a Netflix series he had seen a thousand times, Michael just started dating her and part of his new boyfriend routine included forcing his friends to attend every event she hosted.

When he had arrived at her house, his plan had been to sit in a corner and get drunk enough to forget his social inhibitions and maybe eventually mingle with some of her friends. His social crutches Ashton and Luke were both MIA that night. Ashton and Bryana’s relationship was on the rocks, and they were spending some time alone trying to mend it. And Luke — well, as usual he and Arzaylea were at some high end music event smooth talking execs.

When Michael had handed Calum a beer at the door, Calum had known that would be their only interaction for the night. Michael was so obsessed with being the perfect boyfriend to Crystal, he would follow her around like a lost dog. Unfortunately for Calum, perfect boyfriends didn’t hide away in corners getting drunk with their best friends.

So, as planned, Calum had taken a couple shots of tequila, then found his corner, nursing a beer in one hand and scrolling through social media on his phone in the other, waiting for his buzz to kick in.

Beth was not planned.

A few minutes into his pre-drunk brood, she had ungraciously plopped herself next to him and asked, “What’s a tree’s favorite drink?”

His first thought was that he was somehow already drunk and had misheard her. “What?”

The flirtatious glint he would grow familiar with shined in her eyes for the first time that night. She had a bright red popsicle in one hand and fidgeted with a phone in the other. The red of the popsicle had bled unto her tongue and lips, drawing Calum’s eyes to her cupid’s bow as she repeated once more, “What’s a tree’s favorite drink?”

Calum wasn’t quite sure how to answer, but the more he turned the question over in his mind, the more convinced he was that there was some joke in it that he had missed.

The confusion must have been fairly evident on his face because she rolled her eyes and blew out an exasperated sigh. The knuckles of the hand still holding her phone gently pushed at his shoulders. “Did you talk to anyone before coming to sit in this corner?”

Calum had half a mind to be affronted, but truthfully, he had only said hello to Michael and gotten a few shots from Crystal. “I said hello to Mikey and Crystal?” He offered sheepishly. He wasn’t shy exactly, but sometimes he needed a little liquid courage before coming to life at a party. It wasn’t hard at a party surrounded by people he knew, but this was mostly Crystal’s friends, and he was not the best at introducing himself to new people.

“Well, lucky for you, I’ve talked to almost everyone.” As she spoke, Calum took in the way she was always in motion, fingers rapping aimlessly on her phone case or fidgeting with her popsicle stick, shoes tapping lightly against the hardwood floor. She even took a pause in her speech to wrap scarlet stained lips over the head of the popsicle. Calum had to consciously draw his eyes away from the movement of her mouth so as to not be caught staring.

“Crystal’s trying to defend her title as the undisputed party throwing champ, so she bought a bunch of treats that are basically quintessential to growing up in America in the nineties and early two thousands.” She gestured to the popsicle in hand. “The popsicle, of course, is an important add. And no 90’s popsicle is complete without the joke on the stick.”

It took a moment for Calum to realize she was done speaking, waiting for him to respond. As the popsicle disappeared into her mouth again, Calum found himself unable to concentrate.

His genius response was, “Like a paddle pop?”

And this was why Ashton said there was no sight more amusing than Calum attempting to talk to a pretty girl. To be fair, she had thrown him off his rhythm. She had shown up out of nowhere with her red stained lips and deep brown eyes and a question he couldn’t understand. Her every movement proved a distraction, everything from the way she licked her lips to the way she tucked raven black strands falling loose from her twin dutch braids behind her hair.

Beth snorted in a way that shouldn’t have been attractive, but Calum thought it was cute anyway. “What the fuck is a paddle pop?”

“Ice cream.” He clarified. “On a stick. They used to have jokes on them. Do you guys not have that here? They’re huge in Australia.”

She shook her head, more strands falling free to frame her face. “Sorry Mr. Australia, we only have plain old popsicles here.”

Somehow that had launched them into a conversation about the differences in their American and Australian upbringing. It turns out Beth had been born in New York to immigrant islander parents whose strict adherence to their culture made her feel as if she had grown up in two different countries. To make matters more complicated, Beth had moved to California with her mom after her dad died. She quickly learned that California was like another country all on its own. Despite her eclectic upbringing, they still managed to find areas of common ground. They talked about music (his love for classic rock and her love for early 00s pop), TV shows (Calum hadn’t seen any of her Disney Channel favorites, but they could both agree on their love of Arthur and the Wiggles), toys (Tamagotchis were a yes, Ferbies were a no), their home lives and everything in between. It didn’t escape Calum’s notice how she skirted around any mentions of her mother. He wondered what the story was there but decided not to press her.

Calum wasn’t sure how long they sat in Crystal’s living room talking, or how long it was before Beth reached the end of the popsicle and found her answer (A tree’s favorite drink is root beer) or even how long it was before she had announced her craving for ice cream. He was so enraptured by her; he barely noticed the passage of time. He wanted to lie to himself, to assert that his desire to continue the conversation is what made him invite her over to his house. Truthfully, it was the pull of wanting something more.

Now, she was swinging her short legs off the edge of his kitchen counter and sucking mint chip ice cream from a spoon. Idly, he wondered if she noticed how his eyes had been straying to her lips all night.

“I’m not trying to show off,” Calum grumbled, leaning forward, bracing himself on his elbows on the countertop next to her. It was not an accident the way his forearm grazed the outer edge of her thigh. When she had hopped on the counter, her button front jean skirt had slipped even higher, and he couldn’t help the way the deep color of her skin caught his eye.

She had been flirting with him all night if the gratuitous glances and her light grazes were any indications. Even now as she shoveled another spoonful of ice cream and held it out for him, it felt intimate and teasing, as if they were both after the same thing.

It was easier with her than it had been with his other recent pulls. As much as he had been imagining her lips around his dick the entire night, Calum had also really enjoyed their conversation, and even if he didn’t get to fuck her, he knew he would still save her number and text her in a few days.

“It’s okay if you’re showing off. The only thing I like more than tall, broody strangers are tall, broody strangers with nice houses.”

A blush tinted Calum’s cheeks. “Good, that means my plan is working.”

They smiled shyly at one another then Beth went silent for a moment, all of her attention focused on the ice cream in hand. He wasn’t sure how to verbalize what he was feeling or how to ask if she was feeling it as well.

There was always the possibility that his mind was playing tricks on him, but the way she purred her next question made him think otherwise.

“And what is that plan exactly?”

Calum moved to stand in front of her, but kept a short distance between them, not wanting to give in to his desire until he got the express permission to do so. Slipping off of the counter, Beth mirrored his action. His eyes tracked the way her skirt slid up her thighs before moving back up to her eyes.

He summoned a little courage. It didn’t hurt to ask. “Well if you just want to continue talking and eating ice cream that’s fine. But if you were interested in something more, we can do that too.”

“I thought you’d never ask.” The ice cream tub thudded forgotten on the counter, and she reached out a hand to him. “I’ve been putting the moves on you all night.”

Calum was powerless to resist the pull of her. Mirroring her action, he reached out as well. As soon as their fingers touched, she gripped them tightly, pulling him towards her with one firm tug.

“When?” He asked, teasingly. “The confusing opening question or the couple hours long talk about our families?”

When his hands laid gently on the small of her back, hers twisted in the hair at his nape, the cool metal of her rings occasionally brushing against his scalp. “Okay, I might be bad at the whole flirting thing, but I was basically blowing that popsicle earlier.”

A flash of plush red lips stretching deliciously over the head of the popsicle flashed in Calum’s mind. “Yeah that. . .” He didn’t have words. There must have been an obvious moonstruck look on his face because Beth giggled and pulled him towards her.

“I figured that would work.” A few seconds later, the lips he’d been enchanted by all night were finally on his.

She tasted like the mint chocolate chip ice cream they had just been sharing.

As he savored the taste of her, he allowed his hands to roam, feeling the soft curves of her torso, gripping lightly at the spots he could feel himself becoming obsessed with. He couldn’t wait to get her into bed, to tease with lips roaming everywhere.

Later, he thought, filing those ideas away. For now, he dropped his hands further, grabbing at the meaty flesh of her ass and kneading a few times. Beth moaned into his mouth at the feeling and pressed closer to him. He slid his hands down again, to her thighs this time, and hiked her up, her legs wrapping around his waist in response. A second later, he placed her back on the kitchen counter. They both sighed in relief as the height difference shortened. He no longer had to crane his neck down, and she no longer had to stand on the tips of her toes.

Plus, she was now at the perfect height for him to mouth at her chin. She smelt amazing there, like roses and cocoa butter and the fading hints of an oceany perfume.

Almost reluctantly, he left her chin to toy with her neck. As he moved, he could hear her breath hitch with every nip and suck. By the time he made it to her chest, grabbing the edges of her shirt and pulling it over her head, burying his face happily on the perfect pillow her pushup had created, she began to get whiny.

He smirked.

He loved it when girls got like this.

He loved their high pitched pleas. It felt like reassurance almost, letting him know that they were just as affected by him as he was by them.

“Can I?” He asked, nimble fingers loosely playing with the hook of her bra. She nodded, and the bra was off, joining the shirt on the floor. When he took one nipple into her mouth, rolling the other between his forefinger and thumb, she gasped out his name like a prayer, her nails scratching lightly at the hair at his nape.

“Are we really gonna fuck on this kitchen counter?” Beth asked when he moved on to the next nipple, giving it the same treatment as the first.

He laughed, letting her breast fall from between his lips. “Sorry, I got carried away.”

“I’ll say.” Beth gestured pointedly to the way he had his hands on each of her breasts as they spoke, playing with them idly. Sheepish at his lust, but unable to keep his hands off her, he moved them back to her side.

He didn’t make any efforts to leave the kitchen, however. Instead, he dipped his head, so he could curve into her mouth once more.

“You’re intoxicating.” He breathed into her, as if the very act of kissing her was making him drunk. Before they knew it, his hands were roaming again, down thighs this time, fingers digging into the softness there.

It took Beth a minute to get her wits about her, drunk on him too. When she did, she pulled her mouth away, hand gripping Calum’s, forcing their motions to stop.

“Bed, Calum.” She was laughing. At what he wasn’t sure. Perhaps it was at the way neither of them could seem to keep their wants at bay long enough to make it up a flight of stairs to Calum’s bedroom.

Both of Calum’s hands went up in the air, and he took an exaggerated step back in a show of restraint. “Okay, okay. I’ll take you to my bedroom.”

He turned and offered his back to her. “Hop on.”

She did, but not without grumbling. “Piggyback ride?”

“Piggyback rides are sexy.”

The melody of her laugh sounded right next to his ear, and he couldn’t help but laugh with her. “I’m really about to have sex with a guy who thinks piggyback rides are sexy. Lord, help me.”

“To be fair, at this point, I’d think doing anything with you was sexy.”

She hopped off his back once in his room, and they shut the door behind them. They didn’t bother turning on any lights but as she moved closer to the bed, the moon shining down from his skylight, illuminating and accentuating her curves. That was more than enough to set his desire alight again. Stalking towards her, he was ready to get his mouth on her once more.

A single finger to the chest stopped him before he could get more than arm's length. “Uh huh.” she purred. “I’m over here in my skirt and panties, and you’re fully clothed. You’re not playing fair, Mr. Hood.”

Hastily, he removed his shirt and his pants then looked to her expectantly. When she gestured to his boxers, he released an indignant, “You too!”

She rolled her eyes, but a few seconds later, they were both standing staring at each other’s naked bodies.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Her arms went around her frame, a sign that she was a little self-conscious about the way his eyes drifted over her body.

“Can’t.” He murmured as he crossed the short distance between them. “You’re too beautiful.”

“You can stop laying it on so thick, I’m going to let you fuck me.”

“Bethany.” He paused, searching through all the information she had relayed about herself earlier that night. “Bethany whatever your last name is, I’m not ‘laying it on thick.’ I honestly think that you are gorgeous, and I need you to know that.”

Beth ducked her head as if trying to hide from the compliment, but Calum slipped two fingers under her chin and lift her face up to meet his.

“You’re so cute.” He punctuated each word with a chaste peck on the lips.

“Shut up and take me to bed,” Beth ordered steely, but there was a light blush dusting her cheek and a grateful look in her eye that told Calum she appreciated the way he complimented her.

Unceremoniously, he picked her up, laughing at her yelp in surprise. Then, he crossed the hardwood expanse of his room and deposited her on his bed.

This time when their lips met again, all the frantic heat from the kitchen and the teasing feather light pecks from a few seconds before were replaced with slow, tender movements of their tongues rubbing against one another’s.

All his life, the intimacy of touch was second nature to him, so it was easy for him to pour out his adoration with his mouth and worship her body with his hands. Said wanderers moved up and down her side, gripping at the softness of her middle and her thighs.

He pulled their mouths away, so he could lick down her neck and chest. Every nip and suck drew a slight hitch in her breath. She was easy to arouse. By the time his tongue darted out into the dip of her belly button, she was squirming and pleading, trying to guide his head where she wanted him most.

Instead, he teased her. He skimmed a lightly stubbled cheek against the inside of her thigh, breathing deeply to take in the heady scent of her sex.

“Calum Hood, when are you going to stop teasing me?” her voice waned, dripping with a plea.

He let out a small huff of breath against her thigh and whispered, “Never.”

When he crawled back up her body instead of giving in to her temptation, she shot him an unimpressed look. He let out a short yelp in surprise when she flipped them, sitting up on his thighs.

“I’m taking charge now,” she said pointedly, playfully unamused with his earlier teasing.

Unbidden, she reached her fingers down to rub gently on the underside of his cock. He was already hard, and he knew that in just a few moments, she would have him leaking.

“I’m starting to learn that you like being in charge,” he grunted out. The words were hard to concentrate on as she gripped and stroked him, sending prickles of pressure up and down his spine. She kept eye contact with him as she bowed, bringing soft, plump lips to his tip. God, he had been dreaming about that all night. Overwhelmed, he couldn’t help but moan in arousal.

He could get turned on from the sight of her lips wrapped around his cock alone. Accompanied by the sinful movements of her tongue, he felt as if he was on fire. She bobbed her head, using her hand to cover what she couldn’t reach. As he felt his pleasure building, he knew he had to get in her.

“I thought you said something about letting me fuck you?” he joked, voice heavy with lust nonetheless.

She pulled off him with a wet pop. “Now, I’m getting carried away.”

He slid the hand that was at her nape to her chin, nudging just enough for her to get a hint. Crawling up his body, she allowed her weight to fall fully atop him, taking a second to dip into his mouth.

“Gonna ride you,” she commanded between kisses.

“Of course you are.” No question she liked setting the pace for them. She had been doing it all night. Riding him would allow her to keep control.

“Condoms?” She asked, already instinctively leaning over him to his bedside table. He didn’t respond, knowing that she would find just want she needed as soon as she opened the drawer. She held up the condom in triumph before settling back over him.

She easily rolled the condom on, but before she could line herself up with his member, Calum pulled her down for a kiss. Every time she moved away, he felt starving for a taste, craving her kisses as much as he craved being inside her.

Immediately after they parted, he brought two fingers to her mouth and commanded, “Suck.”

She pulled them between her lips, tongue coiling around the long digits. When he pulled them out, he was enraptured by the string of translucent saliva that connected them until it broke. Then he was on her. Their lips met with desire as his fingers went to her clit, applying pressure, causing her to gasp into his mouth. He grazed between folds, slipping in and out of her, coaxing shudders from her supple frame.

“Calum.”

Her whines dragged him from his explorations.

“Sorry,” He bit out. It seemed like getting carried away was their theme for the night.

Shaking her head in slight exasperation, she pushed his hand away, then lined herself up with his cock.

Calum couldn’t help but groan, “Fuck,” as he became enveloped in her pulsing heat.

The way she moved on him was sinful. She started slowly, moving up and down, squeezing him gently. That alone was enough for his hands to fly up to her middle, squeezing gently as he threw his head back with a groan. She pressed herself on top of him, and he marveled in the softness of her. When she started kissing his neck and grinding on him in earnest, he decided that they had to do this again.

“Fuck baby girl. You feel so good.”

“Yeah?” She asked, and he couldn’t even respond. Sitting up, she had changed her rhythm, moving more enthusiastically against him. His grip on her tightened as he lost control of his hips. She didn’t like that.

When he started bucking up to meet her motions, she placed one delicate hand on his torso and whispered, “Behave.”

“Come on,” he whined, but she ignored his pleas, bouncing lasciviously up and down his dick.

It felt like forever that he was a slave to her motions, the way her hips dropped down to meet his and she clenched around him. Somewhere along the line, he had turned to begging, wanting to take charge, to flip them so he could properly fuck into her.

Finally, she gave into him.

“Alright you big baby,” she had grumbled, then slid right off of him. Lying next to him, she opened up her legs, inviting him in. Both of them groaned when he lined up with her entrance again. He fucked into her slowly while mouthing up and down her neck. At each thrust, she whined and cried out his name. Her fingers clawed up and down his back, bringing pleasure almost to the point of pain.

“You said you wanted to fuck me, so fuck me.” Bossy as always.

He slid his arms beneath her knees, pushing her legs up against her chest so he could drive into her. Their sounds devolved to groans and the calling out of each other’s names. She came first, clenching against him, her whole body shuddering. He felt the moment, immediately following her release, when the sensations changed. When the condom ripped open, and he became intimately familiar with the walls inside her. The feeling came as such a shock to him, but before he could even process it, he was spilling inside her.

There was no relief in his release.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Calum was muttering as he pulled out of her. “Shit. The condom ripped.”

Beth did not share his sense of urgency. Amusement glinted in her eyes as she failed to smother a yawn.

“Relax,” she chided lightly. “I have an IUD.”

Then the amusement in her eyes turned biting. “Unless you have an STD?”

Calum shook his head, disposing of the torn latex material. “I don’t have an STD.” It didn’t even cross Calum’s mind to be worried about his own health. “Are you sure you don’t want me to go get you Plan B?”

Beth rolled her eyes. “Trust me. I fucked my ex for two years with this IUD. We’re fine.”

Calum still twitched nervously at the edge of the bed, worrying his lip.

“Come back to bed,” Beth ordered. “Come tell me how good that was.”

It took a moment, but eventually, Calum decided to trust her, putting his fears behind him. “That was good.”

He crawled back in bed with her. From her position laying atop him, Beth merely made a sound of agreement.

“Although maybe next time I should just tie you up and have my way with you. Get you to give up control for a second.” His tone was light and teasing, but the way her breath hitched told him that was definitely something they could explore in the future.

“Or maybe,” she said somewhat indignantly, “I should tie you up and have my way with you.”

“We’ll take turns,” he conceded easily and was surprised to hear her murmur in agreement.

She stifled a yawn and asked, “Can I sleep here? Just for a bit. ‘M tired.”

Calum nodded, “Yeah. Stay as long as you like,” unaware that when he awoke, she would be gone.

May 2018

Calum doesn’t even hear Beth’s name again until three years later. And not for lack of trying. The memory of one unanswered text message lived in the dark recesses of his mind - If you’re not busy there’s a new ice cream place in West Hollywood I want to try?

Nothing.

He had agonized over her lack of an answer for days. At one point, he was almost desperate enough to go to Crystal. Eventually, his sense of self-preservation won over his desire to see her again. Michael and Crystal hadn’t been paying attention to him at the party and Ashton and Luke weren’t even there. No one knew of his tryst with Beth, and it was probably better that it stayed that way. If Calum alerted his friends, that was just four more people to watch as he struck out with a girl he was arrogant enough to believe he had left an impression on.

Still, over the years his mind would occasionally shift back to her. He could never shake the feeling that her unanswered text was more than a dismissal. Crystal proved these feelings correct.

“Calum,” she had called as she waltzed into the room. She was ignored by four of the five individuals that lounged in various states of relaxation on her couches.

Calum didn’t even take his eyes off the screen where his disparaging number of kills reminded him why he didn’t like playing video games against Michael. Michael’s devotion to these games went unmatched within the group, which is why it came as a complete surprise when he paused it.

“Hey!” Calum cried out in protest. But when he looked over to Michael to complain, he realized that all Michael’s attention was focused on Crystal. That’s when Calum brain caught up with reality, and he realized that he had missed her calling his name upon entering the room. “Oh shit, sorry. Yes?”

The minute his eyes grazed over her, he knew something was wrong. She was paler than usual, and her lips were clasped into a thin line. “I need to talk to you.”

Ashton query of, “What’s Up?” came before Calum could even open his mouth. There was a distinct note of worry in both Crystal and Ashton’s voice. Something had happened. Even Luke sat up from where his head had been resting in Sierra’s lap to hear what Crystal had to say.

Despite all the attention on her, Crystal’s eyes were still locked on Calum. “Alone.”

Ashton scoffed. “As if he’s not going to tell us exactly what you say three seconds after you say it.”

It was a fair statement. Calum was private about almost everything in his life - except when it came to his best friends. And most of them were in the room at the moment. Crystal’s eyes searched Calum’s as if looking for approval. Calum merely shrugged. He and Crystal lead such separate lives that he couldn’t imagine anything she’d have to say being something Luke, Sierra, Michael and Ashton didn’t already know.

“Do you remember a girl named Beth?”

It wasn’t until the words were out of her mouth that he remembered the one thing Luke, Sierra, Michael and Ashton didn’t know. His mind swam with a million reasons why he would be hearing her name again after all these years.

Calum saw Ashton open his mouth, no doubt to say that they didn’t know a Beth. Before he could speak, however, Calum uttered, “Yes.”

“What?” Ashton said in a bought of incredulity. “I’ve literally never heard you mention a Beth.”

“We had a one night stand like three years ago,” Calum revealed with a dismissive wave. The light air about him did nothing to quell the worried feeling budding in the pit of his stomach. “Crystal why are you bringing her up now?”

Crystal spoke slowly as if she was afraid her next words would startle Calum. “Because she’s back in LA. Because she says she’s looking for you.”

At her final words, Calum could feel all the air get caught in his throat. “And because she’s walking around with a two year old that looks an awful lot like you.”

The Next Day (May 2018)

The next time he saw Beth, he marked little differences between her then and when they were eighteen. Curly shoulder length hair was tucked behind her ear, and he couldn’t remember if it was that same auburn color the first time he had met her. He didn’t spend long noting the deep brown eyes or perfectly shaped cupids bow that had flitted around in his memory throughout the years. He couldn’t really because his eyes were drawn to something else.

To someone else.

Standing with a tiny hand slotted firmly into her mother’s was Lennon. Even if Calum hadn’t looked into a mirror almost every day of his short 22 year old life, he would have recognized those eyes, the round cheeks, and prominent chin anywhere. They were his family traits now unmistakably carried on in Lennon. Curly hair was bundled into two small buns atop her head, and the hand that wasn’t in her mother’s drank juice from a pink sippy cup.

She eyed Calum wearily, as if unsure whether he could be trusted. Calum looked to Beth for permission, and when she shrugged, he stooped to be face to face with his daughter.

“Hi,” he tried, gently.

She moved closer to her mother’s side and didn’t even remove her sippy cup before mumbling, “Hello.”

“She’s shy with people she doesn’t know,” Beth said by way of explanation. Calum tried to ignore the way his heart squeezed at the fact that he was a stranger to his own daughter.

They met in a park at Beth’s insistence. It was the smaller of two in the gated community he lived in, but it had plenty of space for Lennon to play while he and Beth talked privately.

“You must hate me.”

These were the first words Beth said to him after getting Lennon situated in a sandbox. The way she ungraciously fell on the bench next to him brought him back to the moment they met. There was never really anything poised or deliberate about her. He had liked that.

Calum sighed, considering her words carefully. “I don’t hate you.”

It had been almost 24 hours since Calum had learned about his daughter, and he had thought of little else since. He didn’t hate Beth, but he wasn’t sure how to feel either.

“I’m sorry,” She continued on as if Calum had confirmed his ‘hate.’ “I know there’s no version of this where I come out looking favorable. Either I ruined your life by causing you to miss the first two years of your daughter’s life, or I’m ruining it now by bringing an unwanted child into the mix.”

It was a good point. Calum didn’t like that for the first time in his life Hood brown eyes had stared back at him untrusting. At the same time, he wasn’t sure if he would have been ready for a child at 19. Or if he was ready for a child now.

He steered the conversation in a different direction. “I have questions.”

Beth sighed as if those very words were the last thing she wanted to hear. She leaned forward, bringing both elbows to her thighs. Her small hands pushed at the curls gathered next to her ear, and after a moment she said, “Okay. What do you want to know?”

Everything.

But Calum didn’t go with his instinctual response. Instead, he poked at the one thing that had been niggling him all these years. “I texted you.”

After a brief moment of contemplation, she suggested, “Perhaps I should tell you the story from the beginning, and you can ask questions at the end.”

Calum’s eyes briefly left the nervous twitch of her leg and moved over to where his daughter used a plastic shovel to scoop sand into a pail. He was sure this would be a long story. Relaxing back a little into the bench, he said, “Okay. Go ahead.”

“You should know that I went to Crystal’s party with every intention to hook up with a guy I would never see again.”

Calum couldn’t help the low hiss he expelled as he thought back to how he had wanted nothing more but to see her again.

“That explains the unanswered text.”

She nodded sharply, agreeing. “I didn’t think that we’d have so much fun together. I thought I’d saddle up to you, pretend to blow my popsicle, then get to blow you and be on my way.” She said it with a bitter laugh. “It was my first time ever doing something like that too - having a one night stand with a stranger I’d never met. Figures it would be just my luck that I’d end up pregnant from it.”

“But where’d you go? I went to so many of Crystal’s stupid parties after that, and I never saw you.”

When her brown eyes met his, he remembered he was supposed to keep his questions until the end.

“I’m not very good at telling the story, am I?” She asked with a very rueful smile. It was as if there was something at the beginning of the story that made it hard to tell. Eventually, she spat it out. “When you met me Calum, my mother had just died.”

Calum sucked in a breath. He had a feeling it would be something bad.

“She was sick for a while, so I had to drop out of college to take care of her. Then she died, and I was alone. I didn’t know what to do with my life. I had a terrible job and an ungrateful boss and a year’s worth of crippling debt from medical expenses I couldn’t help to pay off. That’s why when my dad’s cousin showed up at my mother’s funeral and invited me to move in with her in New York, it felt like a blessing.”

The way she spat the words suggested it was just the opposite. But she didn’t follow that train of thought. Instead, she went back to the night of the party. “I just wanted to spend one night having the quintessential college experience I knew I never would. I wanted to get drunk, party, and hook up with a guy. Crystal had a lot of friends in the UCLA art department, so I had been to her parties before. When I got invited to this one, it felt like a godsend.” She met his eyes purposefully. “You felt like a godsend. Plus, you’re a celebrity. And by some miracle, you were interested in me. I had heard rumors that one-night stands were kind of your M.O., so I went for it.”

Calum wanted to interrupt her, indignant at the rumors about his sex life, but he held his tongue.

“Then you know what happened next,” She continued. “I never expected to have so much fun with you. Why couldn’t you be the vapid, egotistical bassist I was expecting you to be?”

He chuckled and shot her a wry smile. “I’ll try harder from now on.”

Soft hands found his, squeezing gently. It was a gesture of gratefulness, no doubt for the way he had patiently sat, listening to her story, no trace of resentment on his face. Unthinking, Calum laced his long fingers through hers, smiling when she didn’t pull away.

“I went back to New York the next day. I didn’t realize I was pregnant for a while. I had missed periods before because of stress, and for three long months, I thought the stress of adapting to my new life in New York, a new life without my mother, were the root of my problems. I was three and a half months in before I went to go see my gynecologist.”

Calum had to ask a question then. “Why didn’t you call me?” Purposefully, he kept his voice gentle.

Her tone was fraught with distress when she responded. “Calum, I was a college dropout with thousands of dollars in medical expenses when I met you, a newly rich bassist with more than enough money to solve my problems. Then, when the condom tore, I somehow forgot my fucking IUD had expired and insisted I didn’t need Plan B. You don’t think I thought of calling you? I have thought about reaching out to you every day for the past three years. But, I couldn’t help but wonder how that would look to you. I worried you would see this as some elaborate plan to swindle you out of your money.”

He wanted to tell her that he would never do something like that, but remembered the way Ashton had sneered, “She’s probably lying.” When they had finally gotten the full story from him and Crystal.

“Plus, that night. . .”

There’s no need for her to finish. The moment flashes before him, the memory of their words clear in his mind’s eye.

“Sometimes I think I want to have a whole brood of children. I really hated being an only child.”

Beth was laughing before she had even finished talking. Calum’s sour expression gave away just how turned off he was to that idea.

“What?” she began, gesturing to the crinkle of his nose. “I’m guessing you’re not a fan of children?”

She stuck the popsicle back between her lips and waited for his response. “Yeah, I don’t think I want kids.” He grumbled. “I can’t imagine myself with kids. Not now and probably not ever.”

In the present, they sat and watched the inconceivable jump around and play in the park. They were still holding hands. Both were seated with their faces forward; however, neither of their eyes strayed far from Lennon as the conversation wore on.

She had done a good job of navigating through her past. A part of Calum knew that he should be angry. Whether it was at Beth or the circumstances, he wasn’t sure. Even so, most of what he felt was regret, and the guilt-inducing thought that he wouldn’t have done anything differently. He wished Beth never went through all that pain, but he was a different person at 19. Teenage Calum could not handle a child. 22 year old Calum, however? His time traveling around the world with the boys had instilled a need for a family. Someone to come home to. A knowledge that his community extended beyond his friends and their girlfriends.

There was one more question, one that he had to ask before he and Beth found a way to step into their future.

“Why now?”

He wasn’t expecting her to break down and cry.

Present Day

The patter of tiny feet on their hardwood floor was enough to draw Calum from his slumber. Knowing his three year old, she probably thought she was being sneaky. But, everything from the creak of the door to her high pitched giggles and the aforementioned heavy footfalls gave her away. Calum pretended to be asleep anyway. One day her childlike innocence would give way beneath the harsh realities of life, but Calum wanted to keep that at bay for as long as possible.

There was a sharp tug against the sheet tangled around his waist as his daughter tried to climb into bed with him. The first time she had done it, it just about gave Beth a heart attack. The very next day, they had gone out and purchased a toddler friendly, easily climbable bed.

Beth.

The bed was noticeably void of the warm body he usually woke up next to. This was unusual, as Beth was even less of a morning person than he was. But, today was a year anniversary of the day he and Beth re-met. A few days earlier was the anniversary of –

Calum had a hard time even thinking about it. In the year that followed, what Beth said that day through tears and gritted teeth often haunted him. If he were more prone to anger, perhaps he would have flown out to New York and saw that the people who wronged her were brought to justice. But Beth had enough forgiveness for the both of them. (And, as she often reminded him, the law wasn’t usually on the side of people like her.)

He was jerked from reminiscing on their past when his daughter landed squarely on his stomach, knocking the wind out of him.

“Lennon,” he groaned. The worst thing about having a toddler? She was always kicking him or kneeing him in some way with her unrestrained motions.

“Oops, sorry daddy.” She still struggled to pronounce her R sounds, so it came out more as “Sowwy.”

Calum might have been mad if she wasn’t so cute. When he finally opened his eyes, he was met with familiar brown ones staring right back at him. She was sat on his stomach clutching her favorite stuffed chameleon Miti (pronounced Mighty) to her chest. The chameleon was named after her favorite hair color changing uncle who, up until the time she was three, was also dubbed “Mi-ti.” Mikey was glad once that phase was over and jokes about his strength, or lack thereof, came to an end. (Unfortunately, Ashton still had to endure being called “Unka Ass” much to the amusement of everyone but him.)

“Hey, where’s your mommy, huh?”

Calum brought a finger up to poke at her side, smiling as she giggled and squirmed away from it. When she didn’t answer, he worked her other side. Then again and again until he had to sit up, repositioning her in his lap, giddy at the sight of his daughter squirming and laughing at the movements of his fingers.

Eventually, her giggles turned to squeals intermixed with pleas of “Daddy, no!”

He gave in. His long fingers paused as he brought Lennon up to his chest, cradling her as he placed kisses around her face.

“Let’s go find your mom, huh?” He asked but didn’t wait for an answer before standing up with her in his arms and making his way to the kitchen.

“Beth?” He called her name a few times but was only answered once with a bark from Duke. He smiled as the small dog came into view. From his arms, Lennon smiled down at the rescue, waving the hand that wasn’t clutching her chameleon. The dog barked in response to her hello.

Eventually, Duke, Calum, and Lennon found Beth outside, standing on their deck.

“Mommy!” Lennon called out. As soon as Beth turned to face them, it was apparent that she had been standing out there crying. Calum placed his squirming daughter on the floor so she could rush to her mother’s side. A lot of things had changed in the past year. One thing that hadn’t was how protective Lennon was of her mother.

Beth reached down to pick their daughter up. Settling her firmly on her hip, Beth pressed a kiss to Lennon’s hair.

“Mommy, you’re crying.”

Beth laughed at their daughter’s astute observational skills. Then, she took in the twin looks of worry on Calum and Lennon’s face.

“I’m fine,” she promised.

Calum took a few steps closer. He reached his hand up slowly, then wiped at her tear stained cheeks.

“They’re tears of joy, Calum.” She assured. “One year ago, you saved me. And I was just so overwhelmed by my love and gratitude that I started crying.”

Calum wasn’t sure if he would call what he did saving. A couple years after Beth moved back east, her cousin's husband had stumbled home in the middle of the day, drunk out of his mind. He had pulled Beth from where she was sitting next to her sleeping daughter and into his bedroom. Then, he had proceeded to do unthinkable things to Beth with her daughter just down the hall.

Beth had always been built on pride and self-reliance. These were instilled in her from years of watching her mother take care of the two of them all on her own. Beth had been lured to the east coast with the promise of a family - someone to take care of her so that for once she could give up control. Not once had Beth imagined that the family she had spent most of her adolescent life dreaming of would abuse her.

Calum didn’t like thinking about it, but he knew that if Beth didn’t have Lennon, she might have stayed. It was easy for her mind to confuse giving due thanks and allowing someone to take more than what they were owed. But In the aftermath, two year old Lennon had sleepily stumbled into the room, only to find her mother strewn out and crying on the bed. Beth had only needed to take one look into her daughter’s eyes to know what needed to be done.

She had bought a ticket for California the very next day. On the park bench that day, Beth had said between sobs, “Don’t worry about me. I just want my baby to be happy. Will you take care of her, please?”

Instead, Calum had asked them both to stay. To be honest, he hadn’t been sure what would happen next. For a while, they were nothing more than two people sharing the same space and a child. Sometime between then and a year later, they became something more. Calum hadn’t realized how lonely he had been until Beth and Lennon found him. And Beth hadn’t known how to put her trust and love into someone who would not abuse it.

“We saved each other,” Calum whispered, bringing his thoughts back to the present moment in front of him.

“We love you, Mommy,” Lennon said sagely before leaning her head on her mother’s shoulder. Calum wrapped his arms around them both, placing his cheek on Beth’s hair. He realized suddenly that he had never been as happy as he was in that moment, his love and his daughter in his arms.

Part 2

let me know what you think of calum, lennon & beth! love yall!

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