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isitgintimeyet · 3 years

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Just A Friend

AO3

So. here’s the final chapter, although there may be an epilogue (thanks to @faeriesfanficblog for the suggestion)

Thanks to you all for reading, liking, reblogging and commenting. I appreciate all of you. I cant tell you how much I enjoy reading your lovely comments.

Thanks to @wickedgoodbooks and @faeriesfanficblog for their support

I hope you enjoy this chapter

Chapter 14: From Regret to Realisation

A noise rouses me from my deep sleep. My legs ache as if from unaccustomed exercise and I feel in desperate need of a shower. Last night’s activities come hurtling back into my mind as I become aware of the large, warm body lying next to me. What had I been thinking? Actually, that was the problem—I hadn’t been thinking. My body betrayed me and totally bypassed my brain. I can’t even blame alcohol. Two beers each—last night can hardly be classed as a drunken mistake.

A loud snore makes me turn over to face the reality of what I’ve done. Jamie is lying flat on his back, still asleep. The duvet is loosely tucked around his torso, leaving his chest exposed. I feel myself blushing slightly as I notice the evidence of our nocturnal tryst—an angry purplish bruise on his shoulder and another above his left nipple.

I don’t want him to wake up just yet. I don’t really want to be having an awkward conversation at this time in the morning. And, the fact is, I don’t really know what I want. Actually, I do know—I want it to be this time twenty four hours ago—when Jamie and I were friends. Everything’s shifted now and I’m worried that it’s the end of our friendship.

So, we do need to talk, I know that. But not here, not now, not with the smell of sex in the air and my lips still tingling from his kisses.

With a muffled sort of ‘hmmph’ noise, Jamie rolls onto his side, facing me—fortunately still asleep. Under the duvet, one leg trespasses onto my side of the bed, trying to wind its way around my calf. I hold as still as possible, willing him not to wake up, trying to delay that inevitable moment of awkward realisation.

My mouth feels very dry. And I’m sure my breath must stink too. I can’t go to Geillis’ smelling like this—all garlic and sex and sweat.

Of course, brunch! I reach behind me and fumble around for my phone on the bedside table.

My phone tells me I have precisely one hour before I’m due at Geillis’.

“Shit!”

Jamie groggily opens his eyes as I leap out of bed and quickly gather up my sweatshirt from the floor, wrapping it around my torso. He looks half asleep and somewhat confused. Part of me just wants to reach out and stroke those auburn curls off his face. The other, more sane part of me holds back, not sure of the message I want to give to Jamie or what Jamie wants to hear.

Securing the sweatshirt under my arms I sidestep towards the door, conscious of his eyes following me.

“Morning.” I venture, clearing my throat.

“Morning,” he replies, warily.

“Look,” I begin. “I know we need to talk about...about...er, last night. But I need to get to Geillis’ for brunch. If I’m late she’ll think there’s something wrong. So, sorry, I need to have a shower after…well… after...”

“Aye, I ken.”

“Can I call you later and we’ll sort something out?” I find it difficult to look him in the eyes.

“Ok… er… I suppose. Till later then.”

*********

Once in the shower, I wash quickly but thoroughly, removing any trace of Jamie from my skin. It can’t, however, remove the turmoil going on in my head. The same thoughts keep revolving around my mind—what have I done? Was this a one night stand for Jamie? Does he want a ‘friends with benefits’ set up? Is this the end of our friendship? What do I actually want?

So many questions but I’ve got no answers.

Unbidden, an image pops into my head, scattering my questions to oblivion.Jamie’s face last night, close to mine, sharing the same breath as slowly, so slowly, he enters me, watching me. Even now, my body responds instinctively to that memory. A spark flickers in my groin, only to be extinguished as I think I hear the front door slam.

As I step out of the bathroom with my robe tied firmly around me, I’m not surprised to find that I’m all alone.

**************

The brisk walk to Geillis and Dougal’s house does nothing to clear my mind. Normally, I love this walk through the park on a bright Sunday morning, watching children feeding the ducks while parents relax on the benches. The fresh air and wonderful scenery in the middle of Glasgow’s urban sprawl usually fills me with a sense of freedom and relaxation—but not today.

The ping of my phone causes my heart to race. As I read the message from Geillis, asking me to pick up croissants en route, I can feel my heart rate return to normal but my thoughts are still completely tangled up. Am I pleased or disappointed that it wasn’t Jamie?

***********

Armed with a bag full of still warm croissants, Geillis lets me into her house. There’s no sign of Dougal.

Geillis notices me looking around.

“I’ve sent him tae see his mam,” she explains. “She’ll be desperate tae see her wee boy and I dinna think she’ll be that arsed about whether I’m there or no’. Besides, as much as I love him, I’ve been wi’ him all day every day fer two weeks and I need a bit of girl time. Ye dinna mind do ye? He’ll be back afore ye’ve gone. And I wanted ye all tae myself.”

I settle myself on the sofa in Geillis’ cosy kitchen while she busies herself brewing the coffee and setting the table.

“So tell me,” I begin. “How was St Lucia?”

Geillis’ description of their days spent relaxing on gorgeous sandy beaches, snorkelling in the warm blue ocean, and evenings spent drinking cocktails in little beach bars watching the sunset turn the sky golden, makes me long for a holiday like that and I suddenly realise how much I want to share it with someone special.

Eventually, she realises her coffee’s going cold. “So, enough about that. What’s been happening here while I’ve been away? Any news, eh?”

I look down at my plate, now full of flakes of buttery pastry and idly push a few back and forth. “Oh, nothing much. Work keeping us busy, as ever. We missed you, you know.”

Geillis tilts her head, trying to catch my eye. I look up and try to make my face as expressionless as possible.

“Claire,” she sees right through my glass face. “What’s happened? What’s gone on?”

I say nothing.

“Let me guess. Is it tae do wi’ work?... Jamie...er…?

At the mention of his name, I stop playing with the croissant crumbs.

Her face breaks into a huge grin. “It’s ye and Jamie, isn’t it? Ye’ve slept together. When? C’mon, spill.”

I wasn’t sure I wanted to talk to Geillis about it, but as soon as she says that, I realise how much I need to tell someone.

Pushing my plate to one side, I rest my arms on the table and lay my head on them. “I’m not sure what I’ve done. Yes, we slept together last night, and now I think everything’s ruined. That’s it...our friendship gone.”

A chair scrapes across the floor as Geillis comes to sit beside me. She engulfs me in a tight hug and leans her head on my shoulder as I sit up.

“Claire, ye canna ruin a friendship with sex,” she cajoles. “It’s like ruining ice cream with chocolate sprinkles, eh.”

“If only it were that simple.”

“It could be that simple. Why not? Jes’ think about it...think about what ye want.”

“I want everything to go back to how it was—Jamie and I as friends.”

Geillis pulls away a little bit and looks me squarely in the face. “Truly? Is that what ye really want. Claire, think about it. Dinna lie tae yerself.”

“I—“ I pause and try to corral the thoughts rushing around my brain. Is that really what I want or do I want more? I’ve been telling myself for so long not to get involved, not to get hurt, it’s become my automatic response—don’t form relationships, get out before it gets too serious. I’ve never really questioned it before. But now Jamie has ignited emotions, feelings that I tried to keep locked away.

“I want Jamie in my life.” The words burst automatically from my mouth. And Geillis is right. It is simple. But—

“See, ye finally admitted it. Ye need him, don’t ye?”

I nod silently as tears fill my eyes. But I’m scared, I’m terrified of this feeling, this need for him. I’m scared of allowing myself to relax, to love someone and then to have it all vanish. That happens—they can just be taken from you in an instant. I’ve learnt that. And I’m frightened of being rejected.

“This isn’t easy for me,” I talk slowly, trying to find the right words to explain. “I don’t know what to do. I’m used to not getting involved, not having a relationship. If I let my guard down, relax, lo—“ I stop myself from that premature declaration. “And then what happens? People leave and I’m on my own again. Only this time it’s worse because I know how happy I can be.”

Geillis rips off a piece of kitchen towel and hands it to me. “Nothing but the finest here,” she smiles. “I ken ye sae well, Claire. Ye’re ma best friend and I ken what’s going on in yer head. I’ve seen yer fighting this fer weeks. Even when ye wouldna admit it tae yerself. Ye wrap yerself up in this shell, afraid tae let anyone in, afraid tae let yerself get truly involved. That’s why ye date men like Frank—they’re never going tae touch ye. And yes, it’s scary sometimes. But ye need tae take the risk.”

“But—“ I try and interrupt but Geillis hasn’t finished.

“Nah, I’m no’ done yet. I ken that, growing up things were no’ always easy but consider this— we’ve been best friends fer what… eight years, nine?”

I nod obediently.

“And I love ye. Ye’re ma family, ye’re the one I depend on. Ye ken mam and dad are bonkers. Anyway, ye love me too, right?”

Again, I nod, frantically sniffing and trying to hold back the tears at Geillis’ heartfelt words.

“Sae, ye’ve allowed yerself tae take the risk wi’ me. And look, I’m no’ going anywhere. I’m no’ leaving ye. Why could it no’ be the same wi’ Jamie? Go on, risk it, take that step.”

I know that Geillis is right. And I think that maybe, with Jamie, I’m ready to try. A feeling of excitement bubbles up inside me as I let myself consider a future with him—only to have the rational part of my brain quickly stamp on that emotion and grind it to little pieces.

“There’s another thing though, Geillis,” I explain as I twist the sodden piece of kitchen towel between my fingers. She gently takes it off me and passes me another.

“I mean, what if he doesn’t want me? What then? It might be just a casual one night thing to him. I can’t go back to being just a friend… I can’t.” Thinking of that, I start to cry, already anticipating this scenario.

At this, Geillis jumps up and rushes from the room, calling over her shoulder “Back in a sec. Just stay there.”

I’m more than a little confused, but, true to her word, she quickly returns carrying her iPad. She sets it on the table in front of us and selecting an app, types in a password.

“Our photographer has saved all our wedding photos here, for us to make our selection. Dougal and I were looking at them last night.” she explains.

I try to focus on what Geillis is saying. Perhaps she’s trying to distract me from my worries, cheer me up by looking at the photographs. I should stop thinking about my problem and let her have her moment of pride. But she's scrolling too rapidly for me to see the images, until she eventually stops.

“Here ye are,” she sighs. “Tell me what ye see.”

The photograph was obviously taken at the reception, after the meal. The white tablecloth is covered with glasses and cups. I’m sitting to the right, talking to someone not in the shot. My cheeks are slightly flushed from food and wine and my hair has started to free itself from its confines. I’m looking happy and relaxed. Jamie is sitting next to me, his jacket casually slung over the back of his chair, his hand resting on the backrest of mine. His face is partly turned towards the camera. There’s a small smile on his lips, but it’s his expression in his eyes I notice, watching me with such softness, such tenderness and, dare I say, such longing, that it takes my breath away.

Geillis touches my arm. “Ye see it, don’t ye? Claire, that is clearly a man in love—and I dinna mean with Great aunt Frances. Seriously, ma pet, rejection is something ye dinna need tae worry about. Sae, ye need tae tidy yerself up a wee bit, dry those eyes and go and get yer man.”

***************

There’s no word from Jamie and so, once I’m home, I decide to take the initiative and contact him. However, inspiration fails me, so in the end I decide to keep it simple.

I think we need to talk. When are you free?

Anytime today

I’m at home for the rest of the day.

I’m on my way

I quickly rush to the bathroom to check that the effects of my tears have disappeared—no red eyes or snotty nose, thank goodness. I add a dab of perfume and a touch of lipstick before running my fingers through my curls.

Time passes slowly when you’re watching the clock. Every second lasts a minute, every minute an hour. I try and focus on something else but fail miserably. Jamie’s presence is everywhere in my flat—from the living room sofa where it all started, to my bedroom where it came to it’s natural conclusion. I retreat to the kitchen but the pizza boxes and empty beer bottles are a further reminder of him. And so I end up wandering aimlessly from room to room, constantly checking my phone, constantly listening for footsteps outside my door.

Eventually, the doorbell rings. With sweaty palms and my stomach performing somersaults, I walk to the door, taking long, slow breaths, trying to keep myself calm.

Jamie stands in the doorway. He’s wearing his favourite rugby shirt and jeans that I’ve seen him wear so many times, but somehow today he looks different. I feel so aware of his body underneath his clothes, I need to catch my breath.

“Come in, please.”

Today he’s holding back—yesterday he needed no such invitation. With a brief hello, he follows me into the living room, standing awkwardly next to the sofa.

“Will you sit down? Drink?”

“No, thanks. I’m fine.” He sits on the sofa, wiping his hands on his jeans. Maybe he’s as nervous as me. Maybe Geillis and I have got it wrong and he’s here to put me straight.

I sit on the chair opposite him. An awkward silence descends. It’s so strange—not even twenty four hours ago, he was making me scream with pleasure, and now we can’t even look each other in the eye.

I clear my throat. “Jamie—“ I begin.

“Claire, please. Can I say what I need tae say,” he interrupts me nervously, looking down at his hands.

I’m finding it difficult to keep still, my knee won’t stop jiggling and I keep biting the inside of my cheek, but I let Jamie speak.

“Yesterday...last night…I didna plan that... I didna come here for that.”

Even through my nerves, I can’t help but smile at this confession. “I know that, I was the one who invited you here, remember? And I was the one who—”

“Aye, ye were. But I wasna sorry. And I’d be lying if I said it wasna welcome. In fact, I’d been wanting it for the longest time,” he pauses and takes a deep breath before continuing. “That is...I mean...not jes’ the sex but a relationship wi’ ye, Claire. I held back because I thought...think...thought ye jes’ wanted tae be friends. But now I need tae tell ye this, after what’s happened, I dinna think I can go back tae that. Mebbe we could try, if that’s what ye want, but for me that’s no’ going tae be enough.”

Finally, he looks up at me and I see it. I see what the photographer captured. How could I have missed it? And, just like that, a weight is lifted off me and my stomach stops it’s somersaults only to be replaced by a feeling of excitement and anticipation.

In one swift move, I’m at his side. Reaching out to touch his cheek, my fingers stroke the soft bristles. He turns to me, eyes now full of confusion—am I trying to console him as I deliver unwelcome news?

“Jamie,” I speak softly. “I didn’t think I wanted a relationship.”

His body tenses and he tries to turn his face away as I continue.

“But, then I met you. I thought I just wanted you as a friend. But I was scared to admit to myself that I wanted—want— more. So, I don’t want us to be just friends. That’s not enough for me now. I’m ready to move forward.”

He breathes a large sigh and I feel his body relax. A huge grin lights up his face. His arm draws me in and I snuggle there, resting my head on his chest.

“Sae, Miss Beauchamp, do ye want tae go out wi’ me then?” His voice sends vibrations through my body.

“Jamie, we’ve already been out loads of times.” I laugh.

“Ah, but this is different, this is courting,” he over enunciates the last word. “We go out, aye, but this time there’ll be hand holding, secret looks and then we rush home when ye canna keep yer hands off me.”

I playfully punch his shoulder. “Or vice versa.” I’m feeling bold and playful now, almost giddy with relief. “Maybe you won’t be able to keep your hands off me.”

His hand, snaking down my back to rest against my bottom, proves the truth of this statement.

“Mebbe,” he kisses the top of my head. “Sae, would ye like tae go out fer dinner tonight, as a couple?”

It’s amazing how natural, how right this feels to me. I sit up. “What I would really like is dinner here. We don’t have to go out.”

“And?” Jamie gives me his attempt at a wink and, as usual, fails miserably.

“Well, maybe an early night? It’s been a stressful day.”

He glances down at his watch. “It’s four thirty. Is that early enough fer ye?”

“Never too early,” I laugh as he leans in and wraps his arms around me, showering my neck with tiny kisses that send shivers down my spine.

“Oh, Claire,” he whispers between kisses.

And just like that, with Jamie’s arms around me, I feel like I’m home. I’ve found what I never even realised I was searching for. All the doubt and worry in my mind has disappeared. It seems so clear now. This isn’t scary, it’s exciting. This is where we’re meant to be—moving forward together.

This isn’t the end. It’s just our beginning.

*****************

The line about ice cream and chocolate sprinkles was actually from The Big Band Theory (credit where credit’s due) but I loved it

#outlander fanfiction #outlander fan fic #Just A Friend #Jamie Fraser #Claire Beauchamp #chapter 14

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illfoandillfie · 4 years

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5 Simple Rules For A Successful Fake Relationship: The Perfect Match (Epilogue)

5 SIMPLE RULES MASTERLIST

Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader

Summery: What happens after you tell Ben you love him?

Warnings: SMUT (18+), oral sex (f receiving, implied male receiving), fingering, nipple play, it’s mostly just fluffy bullshit lmao

Words: 7129

A/N: Epilogue time! Apologies for taking so long to get this written, it’s been a rough few weeks. But we’re finally here!

Taglist: @laedymoon @dtfrogertaylor @vee-ndetta @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @supersonicfreddie @taron-egrotten @johndeaconshands @borhapbois

@coni-martina @hardforbenhardy @cubedtriangle @vicouscirce @arianabrashierstuff @pattieboydwannabe @maggieroseevans @theprettyandthereckless

Being in Barcelona with Ben was like having a fresh start. One without intrusive photographers or the pressure of being walking advertisements for a movie. You almost had to physically push Ben out of the hotel on the first morning you were there. He was reluctant to leave you but, being lead actor, couldn’t exactly skip work. At any rate, you wouldn’t let him. It wasn’t so bad spending the day holed up in his suite. You went back to bed after he’d left and then, once properly rested, put music on as you caught up on emails and the like. In the afternoon you popped downstairs to explore the square the suite looked out on, visiting a quaint little bookstore, a shop full of touristy knickknacks, and a cute café that sold maybe the strongest coffee you’d ever had. Having so much time to yourself also gave you a chance to call Felicity and have a long conversation with her, filling her in on exactly what had happened after you got on the plane. She was thrilled to hear it had gone well and took a large part of the credit for herself.

“Afterall, I was the one who told you to get off your arse. If I hadn’t you’d still be crying in bed,” You laughed and conceded she had a point, “but you’re not the only one who gets credit,” “Fine, but it’s like 90% down to me.”

But, even with so much to occupy you, by the end of the day you were eager for Ben to get back, bored of being on your own, ready to have the conversation you’d both been too tired to fully have the previous night. When he di[d finally walk through the door it was obvious he was just as keen to see you. You heard the thump of his backpack hitting the floor just inside the door and then him calling your name. He found you on the couch and rushed up behind you, leaning in for a kiss when you tilted your head back to greet him. “I love being able to do that,” he said softly as he sat down, making you smile. He asked how your day had been as you shuffled closer, letting him drape an arm around you and pull you against his chest. And for a while that was all you talked about, your day and his, everything you’d got up to. His had been a little busier, working with the stunt coordinator and fight choreographer in the morning so they could film the scene in the afternoon. Completely different from the prep you’d done for The Perfect Match, but you could tell how much he enjoyed it from the way he spoke about it. Even if he did end up with a few bruises as proof of his hard work. Before long though you had to address the question hanging over your heads, had to have the talk. It wasn’t an easy conversation. It took some time and meant being open about the previous few months – the insecurities and fears that had kept you from recognising and acting on your feelings, the impact being in the public eye had on you, the pros and cons of dating another actor and, perhaps most importantly, potential challenges you would face because of your previous history. You both readily admitted there’d been some rough moments when you’d handled things poorly and the question had to be asked of if you’d be able to move on from those patches and any wounds they’d caused. Any lingering reservations you had about Ben and his willingness to make it work were quickly put to rest. He was the first to offer up his vulnerabilities, both personal and professional, and discuss the space where they intersected with you. It was all you needed to be fully assured he was in it for the long haul. Of course, you reciprocated his openness with confessions of your own, harder to get out than you’d imagined, but he was patient and leant you a reassuring hand squeeze when you needed it. It wasn’t exactly fun but it was a necessary evil. And by the time you were done you both knew exactly where you stood and were in agreement about how to move forward, making it all worthwhile.

Neither of you felt much like going out afterwards though so you ordered room service, making sure to get a bottle of wine with the food, and celebrated quietly. Ben ran down to the nearest store and bought a few candles to make it seem a little more romantic and promised to take you out on a proper date the next night. “So would that be our first date? Or does everything from before count too?” you asked around a mouthful of food, looking at Ben across the candle lit table. “Huh, good question. I think it counts,” “Really?” you laughed, “I was about to say it doesn’t. It was all planned by other people and not really…real,” “Hey, not everything was planned out for us. That date where we painted mugs was all my idea and, might I add, something I’d thought about specifically to impress you. It was on my list of potential dates in case I got the chance to ask you out after we wrapped. Same goes for that brunch place I took you and the ice skating rink. Also those dates were part of what me fall for you so they kind of have to count.” You had to smile at that, “When did you know?” “Uh,” Ben dropped his gaze to where his hand lay on the table, “Our first date.” “Really?” “I’d already liked you for a while and then you went and decorated a mug with lyrics from the song I heard every time I looked at you.” It wasn’t until after he’d finished speaking that he lifted his eyes again, giving a small shrug. “That’s so ridiculously sweet, Ben, I might have to kiss you about it.” “Well I’m a sweet guy Y/N,” he was almost laughing when you made good on your threat, standing up from your side of the table and nearly pouncing on him. He just pulled you further onto his lap, the dinner forgotten as you revelled in the knowledge that making out was allowed now, encouraged even. “You wanna move this to the bedroom?” Ben asked, illuminated by the dancing flames more than the lights you’d left on. “I don’t normally sleep with a guy on the first date,” you said, pretending to weigh up your options as you twirled a strand of Ben’s hair around your finger. “We just agreed it’s not our first date. Closer to our fifty first probably.” “Hmmm, you make some good points, babe,” His face lit up and you nearly fell of his lap as he sat forward, “are we allowed to do pet names again?” You groaned into his shoulder but he just chuckled “You wanna move this to the bedroom, cuddle bunny?” “I hate you,” “No you don’t,” you could tell he was grinning, even with your face buried in the crook of his neck. “Little bit.” “Aww c’mon cuddle bunny, don’t be like that. I’ll make you feel real good.” “I don’t know Ben, you’ve got a lot to live up to.” “I do?” “You don’t remember? First night I stayed over at yours you made some pretty big claims about what you were capable of. Said if anyone asked I should tell them I came like three times,” you put air quotes around his words. “So you’re saying if I prove that I really am that good, you won’t complain about cuddle bunny or any other nickname I come up with?” “I never said that,” “You basically did and the challenge has been accepted.” You broke into giggles as he pushed you from his lap, only to lurch forward and kiss you, smiling himself. He led you into the next room, discarding clothes along the way.

***

You laughed as you sat on the bed, watching as Ben hopped through the doorway on one foot, trying to kick his pants off his other leg as he went. Your shirt and bra had been lost somewhere between the table and the bed, his shirt discarded even earlier. He gave you a slightly sheepish smile as he finally managed to free himself from the jeans and followed you towards the bed. You leaned back, still on the edge of the bed, propping yourself up on your hands to keep your eyes locked on him and he followed, caught your lips again though softer than before, one hand hovering just above your shoulder, fingertips barely grazing you. It was miles from the first time you’d slept with him, when you’d both been full of alcohol induced confidence and a lack of clear thought. You pushed yourself closer to try and let him know he could be firmer, that you’d like it if he was. Instead he pulled back even more. “Is something wrong? Do you not want to do this?” “No, no I absolutely do. Just,” he smiled again, the shy half smile that made him seem even more boyish than usual, “you’re gorgeous and I kinda can’t believe this is happening. Again. Just give me a second to let it sink in.” “Benjamin I swear, if you start crying,” “I’m not going to cry,” he chuckled, “probably.” You waited, watched his eyes roam over every inch of you from your hairline to your waist, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. Finally he kissed you again, already almost breathless, his hand cupping your jaw as if he had to work up to touching you elsewhere. Slowly his touch fell lower, neck, collarbone. When he grazed your breast he pulled his hand back again but you hummed at the contact and he replaced it. You stopped holding yourself up, let yourself lay back against the mattress as his lips moved to your throat, his thumb teasing the nipple it found to a stiff peak. It left your hands free to wrap around him, hold him against you. “Do you mind if I leave some marks?” “Go ahead,” you said, far more concerned about losing the feeling of his mouth on you than what would be left when he was done. You felt him nuzzle his nose against the underside of your jaw, and then a tingle down your spine as he found a spot to leave a large purple bruise, close to where he’d first given you a hickey at your request. You made a low hum and tilted your head to the side, exposing more of your neck to him, and he delighted in filling the space with more marks. Three along the column of your neck, one on your sternum and one on your right breast. “How’s it look?” you asked, as he raised his head from your chest. “Perfect. But that could just be because your boobs are right in my face. Very nice view.” You gave him a light pinch for his cheek but he didn’t react, far more interested in creating another hickey on your chest. “Hope you weren’t planning on filming any topless scenes anytime soon,” he mumbled, moving to repeat the process on your other breast, “makeup’ll have a hell of a time covering all these.”

By the time Ben was ready to continue his trail lower you were aching for more. Your underpants were slick with your need, nipples hard as Ben’s saliva caught the cold air he blew over them. Again you were struck by how different to last time it was. Then it had been fast, only minutes between being pushed up against the door and having his fingers in you. But now? Now Ben was taking his time. You understood why, of course. Back then you’d been trying to reach the end before either of you could think for half a second about it being a bad idea. You’d been drunk and clueless about how much you’d both wanted it to happen. All you’d had to do was palm him over his pants and he was raring to go. Not so much this time. He was certainly worked up, you’d found as much when you’d tried to cop a feel. But he stopped you before you got too far, laced his fingers through yours so you couldn’t stroke him off. He responded to your whine with a line about having a reputation to live up to and then let go of your hand as he slipped off your lap to the floor. He made you wait as he tugged your pants from your legs and then left another mark on your hip. You opened your legs wider for him, earning a small nip against your thigh. “Wish I’d done this for you last time,” he said softly, kissing the spot that was still tingling from the scrape of his teeth. You propped yourself up on your elbows to watch, “If you’d done this last time I’d have confessed my love a whole lot faster. Could-coluld’ve saved me the cost of the flight here.” You voice shook as he pressed his tongue to your soaked underwear and you briefly wished you’d packed some actual lingerie and not just your every-day sensible cotton knickers, but Ben clearly didn’t mind. “Cute panties,” he said between sucks through the material, “that wet patch from your pussy or my mouth?” He laughed as he pulled them off you, dropping them unceremoniously to the side as he sat up higher on his knees.

The next thing you knew was Ben’s fingers on either side of your lips, pulling you open. He glanced up at you, grinned when you whined softy, didn’t break eye contact as he dragged his tongue over you. No more build up, no more playful comments as he took his time exploring you. Just his mouth on you, determinedly pushing you to the edge. You let your head fall back with a squeak as he nudged your clit with his nose, following it up by sucking the nub into his mouth, pulling a moan from you. Your breath caught when he slid two fingers along your slit, coating them in your arousal and a whiny expletive was your response to one entering you. Ben pulled back and gave you a wink as he added another finger. You’d have told him off for being so cocky if you hadn’t felt so good. Instead you fell back to the mattress completely. “That feel good baby?” He asked between licks, stretching you out, trying to find the same spot he’d reached last time. “So good Ben,” “I love the way you say my name.” He pressed a third finger into you, shifted the angle slightly, and without thinking you twisted a hand into his hair, let him hear his name again. He hummed though you weren’t sure what caused it, only that it felt incredible, his lips wrapped around your clit. With soft encouragement he made you tip over the edge, squirming under him as you rode it out. He was gentle when he pulled his fingers from you and left a kiss against your thigh, waiting for you to come back to earth before he began gloating. “That’s one. How do you want the next? Same thing?” It took you a moment to figure out what he meant but he filled the time by kissing a path back up to your lips, shorter than the trip down had taken. “Well? What next?” he asked again when it seemed like you weren’t going to reply. “I could blow you,” you said, once again dropping your hand to try and rub him through his underwear. “Save that for another time. I’ve got a promise to make good on and an adorable nickname to give you.” “I was hoping you’d say that. Really want you in my pussy.” Ben laughed and leaned in to kiss you again, evidence from your orgasm still on his lips and chin, before pushing himself away to finish undressing. You watched him closely, taking in the V that was exposed and the light trail of hair leading under his waistband, the way his thumbs hooked into the material, the slightly theatrical wiggle he made to shake his pants off, how the second he was free of the fabric his hand came up to stroke over his length, seeking some brief relief. He turned away to grab a condom and you made yourself comfortable on the bed, moving to lay back against the pillows rather than hanging over the edge. And then Ben was practically diving on top of you, making you giggle as he kissed you again and again and again. Until he stopped to sit back on his legs, tearing open the condom with his teeth. “Can I?” you asked, pulling your lip between your teeth. “Sure,” As Ben nodded you sat forward, took the condom from him and closed your other hand around him. “Shhhhit,” he breathed out,” “C’mon babe, ‘m already h-hard. Just wanna be in you.” You hummed in agreement but took your time rolling the latex down his shaft as you pulled him into another kiss, thoroughly enjoying the noises he made in response. Soft throaty sounds, little whines muffled by your lips. You would have been happy just jerking him off except for the needy throbbing between your legs that made you hyper aware of how empty you were. “Lie back for me,” he said softly as soon as you pulled your hand away. You did as requested, settling back against the pillows once more. Ben nudged your legs open wider and finally sank into you, both of you gasping at the feeling. You moaned softly when he slowly pulled back and thrust forward again, wrapped your legs around him because it was the only way you could think of to get him closer. Carefully he took one of your hands in his, laced his fingers through yours and then repeated it with the other hand, holding them against the mattress as he fucked into you. His forehead dropped to yours as he let a curse slip into the air, “Didn’t a-appreciate your pussy enough last time. So fucking tight.” You couldn’t think how to respond, just squeezed his hands, your breath catching in your throat as he rolled his hips against you. He kept the pace steady as he caught your lips again, less coordinated kisses that didn’t always get you full on the mouth as you moved with each measured thrust. Each one seemed to make it harder for you to breathe, your breaths coming in short pants, often accompanied by small whiny noises as you felt yourself getting close again. “Yeah?” Ben asked against your ear, a response to a particularly drawn out whine, “that good, huh?” If you’d been able to form coherent sentences you would have come up with some sort of witty way to tell him you needed more stimulation to actually get off. Instead all you managed to do was stumble through the words close, please, more as he nibbled on your earlobe. “Show me,” he rasped, releasing one of your hands so you could slip it between your bodies. I wasn’t long before the speed of your fingers on your clit outstripped Ben’s movement, your growing need to finish pushing you to rub faster, press harder. He groaned into your neck as you finally hit the edge and pulsed around him, pulled out before it became too much. You let your legs fall from where you’d hooked them around him though you whined at the loss. “Don’t worry,” he said softly as he took your hand and lifted it from your cunt, “more where that came from.” Ben pulled your hand towards him, leaning in to close the gap and suck your fingers into his mouth. You were sure you could have cum from that alone if he hadn’t already made you cum twice.

It didn’t make it easy to catch your breath or calm down entirely, but Ben was content to wait, thoroughly cleaning your fingers before he released them. He pressed a kiss to the inside of your wrist before he let you take your hand back. You let out a shaky breath as you looked up at him and almost laughed, “Jesus,” He stroked your leg gently, “Still one more to go, if you’re up for it. Not too sensitive?” “A little but I should be okay.” “Good. I really wanna give you that nickname. Annoy everyone else with how fucking adorable we are” “Shouldn’t have reminded me what the stakes are, maybe I am too sensitive,”

“What if I said I just wanted to fuck you until I cum then? More acceptable?” That did make you laugh, “Much more acceptable.” Ben grinned, his tongue darting out from between his teeth, and then readjusted your position. His arm wrapped around your hips, pulling you up into the air, as he leaned on the other and slid back in, deeper than before. “This okay?” “Y-yeah, yes,” As soon as he knew you were okay with the new position he began moving, faster than before. The angle he held you in meant he was hitting your sweet spot consistently which, aside from feeling good, meant your clit got a bit of a break. It felt even better when he dropped his head forward and gently tugged on your nipple with his teeth. You brought one hand up to grab his hair as he switched to soothing the nipple with his tongue. You had a hard time getting out anything other than a few curses and his name as his thrusts became more urgent but Ben had no trouble telling you how good you felt. Well, some trouble. His words came out stuttered and breathless and interrupted by curses of his own or sometimes muffled by your breasts. But that was a turn on in itself. Hearing Ben losing control, coming apart, because of you. It was enough to make you want to cum faster so you could hear him moan through his own release. You remembered what he sounded like last time and were eager to hear it again. So once again you let your fingers find your clit, shivering at the slight discomfort as you tried to match Ben’s rhythm. “God I’m gonna,” you managed to choke out, fingers tightening in Ben’s hair. “P-please Y/N, cum. I ne-ed you to cum.” Your voice caught in your throat as you tipped over the edge again, Ben doing his best to hold you up as he lasted about a second longer, pretty moans spilling from his lips.

***

Afterwards you could barely find it in you to move. You stumbled on jelly legs towards the bathroom as Ben cleared away the condom and straightened the sheets, ready for you to curl up with him. You had just enough energy to fall into bed and lean your head on his chest. He pulled the covers over your legs and stroked your hair with one hand, his fingers catching in the odd tangle though he was careful not to pull too hard. His other hand smoothed up and down your arm, so gently it took you a few passes to notice. He was quiet for a while, watching you relax against him. And then, seemingly out of nowhere, “Think that means I win, right cuddle bunny? Or do you prefer honey bunch? Snuggle bug? Sugar bear? I could go on,” “I think cuddle bunny might actually be the lesser of all those evils,” you mumbled. “You sure that’s not cause you got used to it and now you kinda like it?” You gave a non-committal hum in response. Ben’s chest shook as he laughed but he protested when you made to sit up, assuring you he liked having you leaning on him like that, “Told you before, I like being the boyfriend and what kind of a boyfriend would I be if I didn’t let you use me as a pillow?” You couldn’t help but smile when you heard Ben refer to himself that way, happily settling back against him. He was right, the title suited him. You couldn’t wait to introduce him as such to Felicity and your other friends.

You stayed in Barcelona with Ben for a few weeks. Once or twice you snuck a peek at a gossip blog or a twitter hashtag, but most people’s attention seemed to be diverted from you onto other unlucky couples. There were a few threads about you not being home and a handful of photos of Ben and other cast mates taken from their Instagram accounts, sometimes accompanied by speculation of if their relationship was purely professional, but nothing much else. You were both thankful for that. It was easier to find your feet as an actual real couple without being hounded about it or seeing speculation about yourselves. You were free to visit restaurants and tourist spots on dates, explore the city together on days Ben wasn’t filming, just be more or less normal. A few times you accompanied Ben to set or out with the rest of the cast, listening in as they teased him for how much happier he was now that you’d arrived. There were a couple of sticky beak questions about the breakup the first time you joined them for dinner, but you laughed it off as nothing more than misinformed rumours and they readily believed you. Aside from being contractually obligated to keep the secret, it was just easier to pretend the previous few months had been real than try to explain it all. Of course, pretending was made all the easier by Felicity and Joe knowing. Joe had been happy when Ben told him the good news. He’d been a little annoyed too and threated Ben with the silent treatment, claiming it’s what he deserved for being so stupid, the sudden click of him hanging up startling you both. Ben’s phone rang again about thirty seconds later as Joe called back to claim responsibility for your reunion. “I totally knew you idiots liked each other and if I hadn’t helped, Y/N never would have got to Spain.” Ben leaned in to where his phone rested on the table, speaker on, “If you knew why didn’t you tell me she was into me?” “Pretty sure I tried! But you were too hung up on being all heartbroken to listen to me.” “Umm incorrect,” “Should have heard yourself man, boo hoo Y/N doesn’t love me like I love her, wah wah wah. Didn’t want to hear anything else.” Ben flashed you a disapproving look when you let out a snort of laughter and then turned back to the phone, “You’re such a dickhead,” “Call me cupid, Benny boy, I’m the reason you’re not crying in the shower anymore.” “You’re fucking full of it, cupid,” “Go on Y/N, tell him I’m right,” “Well,” you said, trying not to laugh again, “Joe did tell me where to find you,” “Exactly!” came the shout from the phone, “Y/N, I’ll give you some of the credit for actually flying to Spain, but It’s like 85% down to me.” “You should meet my friend Felicity. You’d get along.”

On quieter days when everyone was doing their own thing and neither of you felt much like leaving the suite, you’d sit around and help Ben learn his lines or stretch over his lap and work on a crossword puzzle together. Although, that was if you made it out of bed. Ben ran through his condoms in the first week you were there, both of you eager to make up for the missed opportunities and all the time you’d spent pining for each other. More than once he came back to the hotel to find you wearing nothing but one of his shirts, which invariably ended with him between your legs in one way or another. Or, when he was flushed and sweaty from whatever action scene he’d been filming that day, he’d slyly announce he needed a shower and suggest you join him. But eventually the real world called, quite literally, in the form of Mary letting you know you’d got the part in the witch movie. It deserved a celebratory drink out at a bar the cast had found, where you and Ben riled each other up so much you had no choice but to relieve the tension the minute your door was shut behind you. And then again first thing the next morning. Unfortunately, you couldn’t stay more than a few days after that. You had to fly back home and begin prepping for your new role. Thankfully it was being filmed around London, saving you from having to head out to the US straight after getting home from Spain. But it did mean leaving Ben, an occurrence neither of you were thrilled about, feeling like you’d not had as much time together as you would have liked. You decided to do something special for your last night so Ben booked a table at a nearby restaurant. He met you there straight from set, wearing nice pants and a dressy shirt rather than the trackpants and ratty tee you'd seen him in that morning, where you surprised him with a bouquet of flowers similar to those he’d given you on your make-up date so long before. “I love them,” Ben laughed, kissing your cheek as he pulled you into a hug, “I think the colours make my eyes pop,” You playfully shoved him away towards the restaurant but he grabbed your hand and pulled you against him. He was about to kiss you when a familiar clicking sound distracted him. Both you and Ben looked around, surprised and confused, and saw a young woman walking down the street, fingers quickly taping against her phone. Ben ushered you inside the restaurant and, as soon as you took your seats, pulled out his phone. “Bad news. She tweeted it.” “Guess that means the honeymoon’s over,” you sighed. “And we were so close too. Fucking busted with about 10 hours to go.” “Oh well. S’pose everyone was gonna find out anyway. If it wasn’t now it would have been in a few weeks when you get back home.” “Not like we aren’t used to it. So how about,” he poured you both a glass of water from the bottle on the table, “a toast. To being so fucking interesting the whole world wants to know if we’re fucking.” You laughed as you clinked your glass against his a took a sip.

The pre-production part of your new movie kept you busy which had its pros and cons. On one hand it was tiring and a lot of new information to take in. On the other it kept you distracted from the distance between you and Ben and the barrage of questions you were receiving about him daily. You met the women who were playing your sisters and spent a lot of time rehearsing with them, particularly focused on learning how to pronounce the spells you’d be casting and the names of the potions you’d be mixing. Ben chuckled when you told him you’d spent an hour being coached on how to pronounce a single word, a process which included a basic Latin lesson and lots of repetition. “Well at least I didn’t end up with a black eye from it,” you said, pointing at him through the video chat screen. Over the weeks you’d been apart you’d relied heavily on phone conversations and face time calls to keep in contact. There’d been a visit or two when you had the chance but both of you were busy and keen not to be splashed through every gossip rag around so they were few and far between. The calls were easier, more private, and quickly became part of your wind down routine – come home, snuggle up on the couch, and talk to Ben for a few hours. “Hardly having fun if you can’t accidentally get knocked out by a poorly thrown weapon,” “I beg to differ, but you do you Benny,” you laughed, reaching for your coffee. The mug Ben had painted for you. He smiled when he saw it. “Aside from learning Latin and not being beaten up on a daily basis, how’s the movie going?” Ben asked as he reached behind him to adjust the pillow he was leaning against. “God it's been so good so far. The girls are so lovely and fun to be around. Plus, y’know, as someone who spent a lot of her childhood making mud potions in the backyard and playing Harry Potter, getting to run around throwing spells and stuff is kind of a dream come true.” He laughed again, “you’re such a nerd, I love you.” “Shut up. How’s it going in Spain?” “Well I have a black eye and I miss you so... Nah, it’s all going really well. Copped a bit of shit after you left,” Ben rolled his eyes, “apparently I was depressed. But this shoot has been so good. Gonna be kinda sad to be done.” “How much longer have you got?” “Couple of weeks, I think.” “You should come over to mine when you land, I’ll cook you dinner,” “Yeah? I’d like that.” “Course you will, nice home cooked meal, a blowjob, what’s not to like.” “I’ll let you know when my flight is so you can prepare – buy ingredients, do jaw stretches. What’re you laughing for? I’m serious, we both know how big I am.” He laughed, breaking the façade of seriousness as his tongue stuck out between his teeth. “Are you ready for it?” “Beyond ready, I miss sex.” “Not what I meant. There were a few paps waiting for me at the airport last time I was coming back from visiting you. Mostly yelling questions about if we’re really back together.” “How bad is it?” “Not as much attention as we were getting while we were doing press for the movie but it’s pretty annoying.” “They’ll calm down. After they see us a few times and they find someone else to lose their shit over.” “Yeah, probably. But you’re still good with this happening, even with the extra attention?” “Y/N, babe, we talked about this already. We always knew it was likely to happen and nothing’s changed since then. I still want to be with you.” “Just checking,” “I know. Now, I don’t have to be on set for another half hour so why don’t you tell me more about this blowjob I can expect.”

Ben was right, though it took longer to die down than you’d have liked. Felicity alerted you to a number of articles both in print and online after Ben got home. It almost felt like the days of promoting The Perfect Match – photos of you walking hand in hand and sitting at cafes and sneaking kisses on street corners being tweeted and commented on, articles about your latest date and speculation on if another breakup with imminent. The difference was this time you didn’t recognise the people taking the pictures. But, after a month or so, when it became clear you weren’t going to start arguing in fancy French restaurants again the magazines and websites started posting less and less. “It’s like Mary said,” Ben shrugged when you brought it up, “people like conflict and we’re not giving them any.” And that was true. Without the pressure of keeping your feelings hidden from each other or yourselves you were less prone to sulky silences and terse words. Plus no one was telling you to break up for attention. In fact, the months after Ben came back from Spain were better than you’d let yourself believe they would be. You were still working on the witch movie, working title: Toil and Troubles, spending most days and some nights bent over cauldrons of smoking liquid nitrogen and pink slime, or running through forests hoping your pronunciation was correct. Ben visited, sometimes to take you out to lunch or to drop off items you’d left at his place that you were bound to need. Convenient excuses. But welcome nonetheless. At the very least it was good practice for when you introduced him to your friends and family. Felicity insisted on meeting the man who’d caused her best friend so much heartache within the first week of his arrival, a situation that gave you more anxiety than any of the paparazzi ever would. But your worries were for nothing. Ben was perfectly charming and took Felicity’s one or two snide comments with good grace and a suitable amount of remorse. She pulled you aside later to let you know she approved and could see why you liked him so much. You breathed a sigh of relief at that, not needing her approval but glad to have it anyway. That first meeting made you less nervous about the ones that followed, even when it came to your blood relatives. And then, of course, you had to make good on your promise to his mum. He’d had to smooth things over with his family first, having made such a big deal about breaking up with you before he took off to Spain. They’d been surprised when he told them things weren’t working, having believed you quite happy during your visit, and more surprised when they saw you were back together. But if they thought Ben was making a mistake with rekindling the romance they didn’t show it. Angela and Keith welcomed you back to their home with warm smiles and more food than the four of you could eat. You left, still giggling at some of Ben’s baby photos, with a plate of leftovers in one hand and an invitation to come back soon.

It wasn’t until after Toil and Troubles wrapped that you decided to move in together. Ben suggested it casually one night while you were eating dinner in front of a rerun of Friends, the one where Chandler moves in with Monica. The suggestion was accompanied by a joke about how you’d been dating for nearly a year if you counted all the Perfect Match stuff, but you knew he wasn’t really joking. You’d been thinking about it too. You flipped a coin to see who’d be selling their place and didn’t complain when it was you. Ben’s house was already your second home, might as well make it your only one. Luckily, with your movie having started post-production, neither of you were filming and so were free to jump into the process of packing and decluttering and moving. It wasn’t long before you were carrying a box of your clothes up the stairs of Ben’s house, your house now. He followed with another, dumping it in the middle of his living room and telling Felicity to put hers down with it as he ran out to help one of his mates with a bookshelf. The requisite pizza was bought for lunch and beer provided as thanks for everyone’s help before they left, leaving you and Ben with a living room full of boxes and no inclination to go through them. Instead you weaved your way through the blockades, flopping, exhausted, onto the couch. You stretched out, Ben laughing as he lay on you, his head on your chest. “Just a little break,” he said with a yawn and before you knew it you’d both dozed off, warn out from the days exertions.

You woke to Ben digging through the box closest to your head. “Which one of these has all your kitchenware?” he asked when he saw you watching him. “Should say kitchen on the top in blue sharpie, why?” He stood up and walked to another stack, shifting a box off the top of the pile, muttering the word kitchen to himself over and over. You let him search, taking a moment to stretch out the stiffness from napping on the couch. “Did you see those magazines Felicity left?” he asked as he moved another box out of the way. “No, where are they?” “Kitchen bench. You’ll laugh.” You ducked into the kitchen and opened the first one, a copy of Woman’s Weekly, flicking through the pages until you were met with an image of you and Ben walking down the street together. He was looking at his phone and you were talking, head turned toward him. A red circle drew attention to your hand and underneath it was a slightly blurry close up of the same section. Scanning the paragraphs beside the photos the word engaged jumped out at you making you snort. “Knew you’d find it funny,” Ben said, peeking over your shoulder. “It’s not even a proper ring, just some cheap costume jewellery. And it’s on the wrong finger. Bloody hell they’re desperate.” “Look at the other one,” Ben stuck the kettle on to boil, glancing over to watch you as he opened his cupboard of mugs. You pulled the issue of Heat out and riffled through its pages too. “Oh my god,” Ben laughed, “I know right! Pregnant, really?” “I’m never wearing that dress again. In fact I’m going to go find whichever box it’s in and throw it in the donations bag right now,” Ben caught you around the waist before you could take a step, “Don’t do that cuddle bunny,” he pouted, “I love you in that dress. One of my favourites.” “Because it’s easy to take off?” “Because you look cute in it. Being easy to take off is just a bonus,” he pulled you in close and kissed you as you laughed, “speaking of, with you moving in we’ll have to give you a proper welcome. I’m thinking start up against the front door, work out way through every room,” he pinched your bum suddenly, just to emphasise what he meant. “Cool your jets horndog, gotta move boxes out of the way before we can even get to the front door. And I think I need a coffee before I even think about sorting boxes.” “It’s a good thing I was about to make us coffee then. I found your kitchenware by the way.” You looked for the first time at the counter where Ben had set out the makings of coffee. There, amongst the canister of sugar and bottle of milk sat two mugs. The two mugs you’d decorated for each other, side by side.

#my writing #my fics #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy smut #ben hardy imagine #i love writing 2 fucking idiot doofuses #i think they earned this fluff

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happys-crazy-queen22 · 4 years

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Title: The Perks Of Santo Padre III

Gif credit @mayans-mc

Gif credit @angels-reyes

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Hope you all enjoy

Happy Reading Dollies

Taglist: @ilovetaquitosmmmm @twistnet @nocturnalherb16 @jesseswartzwelder. @ifoundmyhappythought. @mayans-mc @leaalfred @baylishh

Since getting fired you found a job working at a little diner down the street from your house. It was a nice relaxing job since you started. Not having to see Angel or Nestors face was the peaceful part. You could have literally killed them both that night. They've called and came by your house but you avoided them at all cost. But the peacefulness is about to be erupted by bikers.

"What can I get you today"?

"Well that's a start". You recognized the voice and lifted your head.

"What are you doing here? How did you find me"? Huffing and crossing your arms.

"People cant stay hidden forever".

"There's a reason I dont want to talk to you or see you. You and Nestor got me fired. Now no one wants to work with me since I'm associated with Mayans and the cartel. Yeah, that's right. I know what you guys do. I cant believe I got mixed up with that".

"What can I do to fix it? I'd do anything".

"Can you get my job back and then make me a higher person in the company? Yeah didn't think so. So what can I get you? Or are you just going to waste my time like you have been doing for weeks"?

"I'll take a cheeseburger with fries and a coke". Angel sighed.

"I'll be right back". You went to get Angel's order and to blow off some steam before you got fired. The nerve of this guy.

Bring Angel his food he was getting off the phone as you came around the table.

"Enjoy". Angel grabbed your hand before you left.

"Let go".

"Here. It's your job back". Angel handed you a piece of paper. "Call him and he'll give you a job, just like the one you had but better". He stuffed a frie in his mouth.

"Is it legal"?

Angel chuckled. "Yeah. I called in a favor. So you're welcome".

"Thanks". You slightly smiled and walked off.

After your shift was over you went straight home and called Angel's guy. He was nice and he talked very highly of Angel. Of course he would. Angel probably threatened him to say those things. You started first thing Monday morning.

You decided to call Angel and tell him thank you again. He didn't have to do that.

"Hey Angel". You spoke into the phone as you started the washer.

"I knew you would call". He smirked into the phone.

"Smart arse. Thanks again. I appreciate the jester".

"No problem. I'm sorry, that I got you fired and started the fight. I just like you and I hate seeing you with Nestor".

"Then why haven't you said anything"?

"You like us both so I wasn't going to make you choose".

"I do, like you both. But if you would have said something I would have backed off of Nestor".

"Does this mean I'm forgiven and you'll go on an official date with me"?

You covered the phone and squealed. Quickly recovered and acted normal. "Sure. This friday work for you"?

"Sounds great. I'll see you then. Good night Y/N".

"Night Angel". You hung up the phone and did a little celebration dance. Weird as it seems it was exciting to go on a date with Angel after everything. At least he apologized, Nestor didn't, he just asked what would make you happy and it would make up for what he did. A necklace or new furniture was his suggestions. You laughed at the ideas when you read them in a letter he sent with flowers.

After your call with Angel you finished your clothes and headed to bed. You were tired and you only had one day to prepare for your job. The anxiety was started to kick in. You didn't want to give Angel a bad name to everyone if you couldn't do your job that he probably said you were great at. So sleep was impossible that night. But lucky for you , you didnt have work on Sunday.

The early morning called you as the sun shined on your face and the neighbors dog was barking for breakfast. Groaning as you got up from your bed, slid on your slippers and headed out to the kitchen to put on a strong pot of coffee. Getting the coffee out of the freezer, you turned around and almost had a heart attack. Nestor sitting at your dinning room table.

"What the hell are you doing in my house"? You asked sternly as you held your chest.

"Well, you didn't take my calls or answer my question. So I had to make sure you were alright. Are you alright"?

"No! You nearly killed me. Dont you know that it's not right to break into someone's home and scare the shit out of them? You're lucky I didn't shoot or stab you, you idiot". You huffed, scooping coffee into the coffee pot.

Nestor laughed. "I think I would be fine. You couldn't hit me. The question I asked, what will it be"?

"I dont want anything for you. So you can leave and not come back".

"Why are you doing this? You know that we are meant to be together. Angel is just a disappointment to everyone and you dont want to be evolved in his mess".

"Are you being serious? You have a bigger mess than he does. Youre in a freaking cartel. I know what they're capable of. You should come with a warning sign attached to your forehead". You yell. Nestor chuckled as he walked closer to you. He grabbed you up, while you protested for him to put you down and kissed you. Kissed you long and hard. You actually melted into the kiss. Your arms involuntarily wrapped around his neck. Deepening the kiss. The make out session lasted about five minutes but felt like forever when you finally got to breath.

"Woah". You say as Nestor put you down and you were a little wobbly.

"Theres more where that came from". He smirked, then licked his lips.

"I dont think that's a good idea. You need to leave. Please".

"Fine, but I'll be back". He chuckled and went to the front door and left. You leaned against the counter, trying to catch your breath. Your mind racing. Who would it be? Nestor or Angel?

#nestor oceteva fanfiction #nestor oceteva #nestor oceteva mayans #nestor oceteva x reader #nestor x reader #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes mayans mc #angel reyes fic #angel reyes #angel reyes fanfiction #mayans mc imagine #mayans imagine #mayans fanfic #happys crazy queen22

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eleven-times-lively · 4 years

Text

I Thought You Hated Me - Part 3

Part 3/3 And shes like "Look, i get that youre heartbroken and im sorry that i cant love you back but no matter how much pain you're going through, I have it worse because you basically outed me and then ignored me and so did the others. And you dont know how much it hurts to know that because I thought you guys hated me for being gay, I thought that you guys thought I was a freak. I was always scared to come out and the moment I did, you left me when I needed you"

Summary: Remus Lupin is in love with you, but learns that you like girls. What follows is an emotional rollercoaster for you and him. Word Count: 1064 Note: This is the final part!! I love this fic and I really enjoyed writing it! I hope you enjoy reading it!!!💕

“You are unbelievable, Remus Lupin.” Your tone of voice could kill as you looked at him, brows knitted together and lips pressed into a thin line. His innocent visage of pure concern quickly turned into one of defense and confusion. Somehow something deep inside him told him to just stay quiet. “Absolutely, astonishingly un-be-liev-able!” Your volume picked up as you went. You pushed his hand off of you and turned to fully face him on the couch, tears once again falling gently when you saw him. “Remus, I’m sure you’re utterly gutted right now, heartbroken in fact, but that doesn’t give you the excuse to act like an absolute prat all of a sudden! I mean ignoring me, for Merlin’s sake! That’s not who you are!” “Y/n it was James’ idea.” “I don’t bloody fucking care Remus! You have your own wits about ya and should’ve said something! But instead you went along with it like a lonely puppy, just like you always do.” You recoiled slightly at that, perhaps it was a bit harsh. “I am sorry that I can’t love you back, and I never will in that way. It’s not a choice, Remus, so holding it against me is like… well… holding being a werewolf against you. I don’t know what you’re thinking, or what you’ve gone through this past month, you know on account of you not talking to me, but you need to understand that I have it much, much worse.” Your tone softened as you saw him begin to cry, realising the truth in your words. “Y/n, I am so, so sorry and I have no idea how to show-” “I am not done, Remus Lupin. Cutting me off didn’t work out for you last time so I suggest you don’t do it again.” “Verywell, proceed.” “Yeah… I was going to. Anyway, you basically forced me to come out to our best friend when I wasn’t ready! And knowing Sirius’ and James’ loud mouths, half the school probably knows to! That was supposed to be the one special and important moment that I was supposed to be in control of NOT YOU. Oh! And to make things worse, you all bloody ignored me! You have no idea how much pain I was in, Remus. Thinking that my best friends hated me for being gay. I felt like some kind of freak! I mean, if Sirius ‘messed up childhood’ Black thinks I’m a freak, then it surely is true!” “Y/n, we didn’t mean-” “Yeah of course you didn’t! How dare I think that your collective one brain cell is able to form a plot that coherent! It was just the three of you being absolute wankers and ignoring me for-... wait why were you ignoring me?” He hesitated a moment before speaking, wondering if that was a question meant to be answered. “James…” “I don’t care about James, I want to know why you did it.” “We thought that since you had just stormed off and wouldn’t let me talk, we shouldn’t pay attention and let you talk either. I just went along with it. I mean… what was I meant to do, y/n!?” Now he was yelling, “I was upset and vulnerable, one of my best friends had just stormed off and wouldn’t give me the time of day, so of course I was going to listen to the other two!” “Do you know how much that hurt!? No one came after me! I ran off and not one of you made the effort to try and find me, ask what went wrong, ask if I was okay!” “Sirius did!” “What! By grabbing my sweater and letting me pull away! Some effort! Remus I was bloody terrified to come out, I mean clearly if I haven’t in six years! I was scared and alone, and the moment I did come out, and not even on my own volition, you and everyone else ditched me! Just left me in the dust wondering what I did wrong. Do you have any idea how that feels!? No! You don’t!” Your words were coming out more strained and exasperated than angry any more, “You had nothing but constant and ample support when we found out you were a werewolf! We risked our lives learning how to turn into bloody animals for you! And this is how I’m repaid?” “Y/n, please, I-” “No, Remus, just don’t,” you began to get up from the couch, but he also stood up and blocked your path to the stairs. “No. You walked away last time and didn’t let me finish. No way in hell I’m letting that happen again.” He slowly, cautiously took your hands in his, looking you dead in the eye. “I love you, y/n. As a best friend, and more, but I need to respect that that will never be reciprocated. I feel bloody horrible. What kind of an arse leaves their best friend when they go through a major milestone like that?” His voice was wavering, about to break. “None of us were thinking, cause trust me, Sirius and James feel just as sorry as I do. It was a bloody awful thing to do, but all they saw of it was that you had stormed off and wouldn’t listen. And, before you even say it, it was horrible of me to not tell them otherwise. I-... no, we have all been absolute idiots this past month. And I know that it will take more than an apology to fix this, but I hope we can start here. I promise you, we will talk to Sirius and James later, together, and you’ll get the apology you deserve from them. You’re my best friend, y/n, and I never want that to change. I’m sorry we made you feel the way we did, but I hope you can take us back. Cause to be bloody honest, we all really miss you.” You didn’t say anything, lest you start crying again, but a smile slowly crept onto your face. You just leaned forward and wrapped Remus in the tightest hug you ever had. The two of you must’ve stayed like that for a while, cause by the time you separated the common room was full again. “I love you, Remus,” was all you said as you pulled away.

#HP #hp marauders #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin fic #sirius black #sirius black fluff #sirius black x reader #james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #harry potter marauders

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asphalt-cocktail · 4 years

Text

For the Sake of Content- Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Medici Ivory and Coral Clay

Summary: After walking in on your long-term boyfriend, Harrison, cheating on you and then losing your job the following day; your find yourself broke, jobless, and single for the first time in a long while. In order to make ends meet, your best friend since college, Freddie, suggests you start soliciting explicit photos of yourself, not only to help boost your confidence but to help pay the rent for his band mate’s apartment you just moved into.

A/N: Hey cuties! Back at it again with another chapter! Thank you for your patience! I honestly am so thrilled with all of the lovely comments and likes/reblogs I have been getting. I even go through and read the tags because i crave validation. But for real though, they are all seriously so sweet and I love all of the support and want to thank you all for it! I do have some angst planned for future chapters though, got to make some young discourse to keep thing spicy, but don’t worry, I want to keep this story light and funny so it wont be anything too bad! also PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DM me if I have missed your tag! I feel like I am missing some people in my tag reblogs.

Pairing: Roger Taylor x F!Reader

Warnings: Language, mentions of sex work, smut, fluff, some friendly banter between roger and reader, consensual recording, not proof read

Word Count: 3k

18+ if you are a minor do NOT interact with this post. This is fictitious content and I own nothing.

Freddie’s dark brown eyes practically gawked at you, “You what!” He grinned. Your face flushed and you swirled around your bottomless mimosa, “I knew you would start doing live streams,” He eagerly stabbed his fork into the yolk of his eggs Benedict, cracking it and causing the yellow liquid to ooze down the sides of the biscuit, “I knew you would; how are your clients? Do you have regulars? Do they ask you to do anything- kinky?”

As Freddie rambled on, your eyes zoned in on his egg yolk, the viscous liquid slowly oozing out of the broken egg and falling down his plate. Should you tell Freddie about Roger? No you couldn’t, that would bring on another series of questions you were definitely not prepared to answer no matter how many bottomless mimosas you had at your biweekly Sunday brunch.

“[Y/N]” Freddie spoke, his tone somewhat sharp, “Are you paying attention? I want to know the details.” The curious glint in his eyes hadn’t dampened.

You gave him a shy smile, “Yeah, I have a few regulars, they’re all nice, some are a little creepy, but I never show my face,” Well, that was a lie. Tonight, was going to be the first night you showed your face on camera and was also the first night you and Roger would film together.

The two of you hadn’t had anything special planned, you were going to change your tips around to reflect different actions people could pay for. It was bound to be fun, right?

You couldn’t shake the nervous jitters from your mind even after your brunch with Freddie and his probing questions. You loved him dearly, but he was often too nosey for his own good. He wouldn’t dare tell a soul the information he knew, but it was as though his very being needed the substance to survive. His head was full of knowledge and he just soaked it up like a delicate sea sponge in an ocean of information.

When you returned to your apartment, you were surprised to see the furniture moved around and a large tarp covering the floor closest to the walls in the living room, “Uh, Roger?” you called out, hanging your keys on the shelf, surely you didn’t drink that much… right?

You closed your eyes for a few long seconds and reopened them, yup, this was real all right, “Roger!” You called louder, “What’s up with the living room?” You kicked your shoes off and walked further into your home before you stopped in the kitchen.

Surprisingly enough, Roger was dressed in a pair of sweatpants and an old faded tee shirt; it was sloppy even for your low standards. Roger looked up at you from his bowl of pasts, mid bite, “What?” He asked with a mouth full of noodles and sauce.

“You’re disgusting.” You mumbled, “What’s up with the living room?” You repeated your question from earlier.

“What do you mean?” He asked, clueless as ever.

You let out a puff of air in frustration, “The living room Roger, everything is all moved around and there’s a tarp on the floor. What are you doing? Opening a mud wrestling pit?” The annoyance in your voice was very evident.

“Oh, I picked up a few buckets of paint so we could finally paint the paneling, the mud wrestling is a good idea though, you think we could charge for it?”

You rolled your eyes at his joke- you hoped it was a joke- and a small smile graced your face, “What colors did you pick out?” You couldn’t help but feel giddy at the prospect of changing the drab, old, and dusty wood paneling that encased your living room walls.

“You know that cream color you were talking about? It turns out it’s actually called Medici Ivory, so I got a few buckets of that and a bucket of this nice red color called Coral Clay.” He finished up the last fork full of his pasta and got up, rinsing it in the sink, “We can paint right now if you go change.”

You looked down, realizing you didn’t want to get your brunch clothes dirty, “Right, I’ll be right back.”

After you quickly changed into some sloppy clothes you and Roger set out to paint the wood paneling, “You know I realized I said you get two walls and I get two, but there are really only three wall in the living room.” Roger pointed out, “I mean, we could paint the little parts of the wall outside of the kitchen, but then I would want to paint the kitchen too.” He thought out, chewing on his plump lower lip.

You swallowed thickly, distracted by the way his pretty pink lips popped out from his mouth after he sucked on it, “Well you can have two and I’ll have the accent wall.” You offered.

Roger looked at you as though you were a moron, “You cant have an accent wall as the lighter color,” He said in a matter of fact tone, “I’ll take it and you can paint the other two cream.”

After a few more minutes of planning, you and Roger finally decided upon who was getting what walls, Roger pointed out it didn’t matter what color the walls were, his decorations were still going to be hung back up. So, he got one wall to paint Coral Clay, and you got the remaining walls to paint Medici Ivory.

You connected your phone to the Bluetooth speaker before Roger could beat you to it and shuffled your favorite playlist on Spotify. Take Me To The River by the Talking Heads began to flood your apartment. You hummed along to the song and began to paint, long even brush strokes on the wall, staining the ugly wood paneling Medici Ivory. As your playlist cycled and paint began to coat the walls you glanced over at Roger’s side of the wall, there were uneven splotches and awkward shapes that coated it. No cohesion at all.

You frowned, “What are you doing to the walls, Roger?” You frowned, “You can’t paint like that.” You scolded him.

Roger pulled away, allowing the brush to loosely hang from his hand, gobs of Medici Ivory dripped onto the tarp making a soft pitter patter noise that blended in with your music, “What? You’re doing better than me?” He asked.

You looked at him in disbelief, “Yeah, I am.” You said pointedly, “This is how you’re supposed to paint,” You said, demonstrating with long even brush strokes, “This isn’t finger painting.”

Roger scoffed and flicked his brush at you, your clothes staining the creamy off-white paint, “I suppose it isn’t.” He responded in a huff.

Your eyes narrowed “Real mature, Roger.” You said going back to painting next to him.

Roger continued to defy you, painting in big circles on the wall and ignoring the clumps and uneven layering that covered the wood panels. You turned towards him and flicked your brush at him, this time little spots of white paint speckled his face causing him to close his eyes and jump, “Oh, you’re going to get it now.” You heard Roger mumble as you turned away from him.

In the blind of an eye you felt cold liquid smearing and staining your skin. A shiver ran through your body feeling Roger’s calloused fingers roughly rub across your cheek “Roger!” You shrilly yelled, bringing your hand up to wipe the paint off, only to smear it.

You swiped your hand across your brush, coating it in the goopy, off white liquid and lunged at him. Roger stumbled backwards and fought your hand as it tried to smear the paint on his face. Your brush had fallen, mushing between your two bodies and covering your shirts in paint. Your legs were firmly planted on either side of Roger’s waist as you straddled and fought against him, still trying to palm the off viscous substance onto his perfectly soft skin.

“Come on, [Y/N],” Roger whined, trying to hide is laughter, “You’re dropping it in my hair!”

“You’re dropping it in my hair!” You mocked in a dopey voice.

Roger gaped at you, “I do not sound like that!” He protested, a shock of laughter rumbling through him and causing his guard to drop.

Your hand came down, smearing Medici Ivory onto his cheek, your hand slickly gliding off his skin. Before you had time to react Roger flipped the two of you over and within a few minutes the two of you were covered in stripes of paint, “You arse!” He was breathless from laughter, still straddling you, “I have to shower now.”

You hummed back laughter of your own and wiggled underneath him in an attempt to break free. Roger wasn’t having it, so you stayed trapped beneath his warm, out of breath body. Suddenly, you were aware of the closeness of your two bodies. His hot breath puffed against the paint that stained your skin causing you to shiver. Roger cleared his throat. The tension in the room was thick. Roger’s erection pressed against your thigh, when did that get there? Your ears felt like they were ringing, the music but a muffled sound that filled them.

“I should get in the shower, the we can do that camera stuff, yeah?” Roger asked, suddenly leaning up. Cool air flooded your clothed chest. It worked in tandem with the paint and caused you to shiver

You swallowed thickly and nodded your head, “Did- uh,” you couldn’t find the proper words to come out of your mouth, “Did you want me to wear anything specific?” you asked.

Roger settled back, his hand tracing soft patterns on your knees, “You could join me, you know, to save on water…” He trailed off, not looking at you.

You shifted and nodded your head, “Yeah, to save water.” You said, suddenly nervous, “Do… Do you want to film it?” You knew very well that the two of you would just be showering.

Roger looked up at you, his typically bright blue eyes now dark and filled with a naughty glint, “Yeah, we can your phone in and see what happens.”

It didn’t take long for you to find yourself pressed against the cold tile of your small steam filled shower. You hissed against Roger’s mouth as the contrasting temperature bit into your skin and arched your back against him. He roughly sucked your lower lip into his mouth, dragging his teeth across it as he pulled away and allowed it to plop back into place.

It was obvious to you that this was going to be different from the first time you and Roger had sex. He was rougher, needier, more dominant with his touches. You didn’t know if it was the amount of steam from the scorching hot water or his touches that caused you to feel dizzy and your brain to spin. Roger quickly turned you over, his hands smoothing over the globes of your ass. You quickly got the message and braced your hands on the wall in front of you.

You swayed your hips from side to side, impatiently waiting for Roger to do something. “Fuck” He silently cursed to himself, “What’s your password?”

Oh right.

You were supposed to be filming this to put on your snapchat. Was your phone waterproof? What if Roger dropped it? How was he going to plow you into next week and hold onto your phone?

The series of questions that flooded your brain was cut short by Roger lightly tapping your cheek, “Come on, before I lose my stiffy.”

“Oh, it’s uh 2580.” You answered, thankful that Roger couldn’t see your embarrassment.

Roger scoffed, “Really? Right down the middle?” He chastised.

“It’s fine- Oh fuck” You hissed out feeling Roger’s thick fingers filling you up, pumping in and out of your throbbing core. You hummed with pleasure and pushed back against his fingers, but as quickly as they filled you, they were gone.

Roger roughly filled you up with his cock, you gasped, feeling him stretch you open. He didn’t leave much time for you to adjust to his still unfamiliar size before he sharply snapped his hips against yours. Your back arched and you kept your hands firmly splayed against the wall. Your legs spread further apart, and your mouth fell open as sinful noises began to spill from it.

“Fuck.” Roger grunted, his hips slapping loudly against yours, “That feel good baby?” He said as he grabbed the meat of your ass and kneaded it in his hand, spreading it apart and getting a perfect view of his cock disappearing into you.

Roger’s calloused hand came down, roughly smacking your cheek. He bit his lip and watched it jiggle under his hand. The water amplified the stinging sensation that rang through your bones. You let out a breathy gasp, “It feels so good,” You slurred. Your mind was drunk with pleasure, “Fuck me harder.” You preened, pushing your hips back against him.

Roger shifted behind you, “You want me to fuck you harder?” He asked, roughly grabbing your hips and pulling you flush against him. Your face now rested against the cool tile as you sat up on an angle. Rogers sharp and methodical thrusts caused you to rhythmically jolt forward, the sensitive skin of your breasts occasionally brushing against the cool tile. The flood of sensations caused every nerve in your body to stand on end.

“Yeah, fuck me harder, Rog.” You practically purred his name, letting it roll off your tongue like honey.

Roger pressed his back against yours. His lips latched onto your shoulder, biting at the soft skin and running his tongue over the teeth marks he pressed into you. One of his hands snuck around to your chest, groping and fondling your painfully ignored tits in his rough palms while the other remained on your hip, pulling you against him at an even pace.

You let out soft breathy moans “Ah, ah, ah” each one getting higher and higher in pitch as the coil in your stomach tightened and threatened to break under the pressure that had begun to build until finally it snapped. You arched your back painfully against him, the muscle in your back cramping from the awkward angle. Your walls, pulsating out of him, coaxing Roger to his own release as he chased it, frantically and unevenly thrusting into you before he pulled out and painted the perfect skin of your plump ass white.

Your chest heaved and your arms shook lightly as you came down from your high. After a few moments to regather your brain you let the water wash you clean of the mess.

After your shower you found yourself curled up in your bed. Without bothering to knock, Roger opened the door to your room, his towel still loosely hanging over his shoulders and a pair of boxers hanging comfortably off his hips. You couldn’t help but lick your lips at the sight of his light blond hair dripping small water droplets and littering his pale skin with moisture. Fuck, you want to lick them off, what the hell was wrong with you?

“Can I help you?” You croaked out. You voice gave away your current struggle.

Roger cluelessly grinned at you, “I want to see what I filmed!” He said plopping down next to you on your bed.

Your face flushed with heat, “You video taped what happened in the shower?” You gaped at him, shifting the blankets so he could get comfortable.

Roger responded with a nod and flatly held his hand out for you to place the phone in his hand, “Yeah, come on we have to pick the best ones to upload.” He responded. Right this was for professional purposes.

When you grabbed and opened your camera roll you saw sure enough, there were several saved short clips and a few pictures in it. Heat began to build in your belly upon seeing the little thumbnail previews. You had to take a moment to remind yourself that watching the sex tape you and your roommate made was strictly for business purposes and not for personal pleasure.

But when you clicked on the first video and caught a perfectly angled shot of Roger entering you, your back arching, the steam of the shower beginning to fog and cloud the camera your mind went blank. You stared at the image before Roger nudged the volume button, turning it up, “We have to make sure it sounds okay.” You almost missed the deviant glint in his eyes that hid behind Roger’s focused features.

The cheeky bastard knew what he was doing.

Your breathy sighs and moans filled your room, Christ, that was what you sounded like? You blinked at the short clip when it was over, “What do you think?” You didn’t dare look at Roger. You didn’t even want to think of what his stupid smug face looked like right now.

“I think it looks even better the second time around.” He confidently retorted back to you.

“Fuck off,” You couldn’t help but smile and let out a little laugh before swiping to the next little clip.

“Fuck” Roger’s husky voice rang against your ears, giving you flash backs to what happened only moments earlier.

SMACK the crisp sound of Roger slapping your ass echoed through your brain just like it did in the bathroom.

“That feel good baby?” Your walls throbbed, hearing Roger’s commanding tone and watching his hand kneading the meat of your ass as it bounced against him.

The tension in the room was beginning to settle and surround the two of you once more. You swallowed thickly almost positive Roger could hear your audible gulp. “That one looks good too.” Your voice sounded shaky. Your skin felt like it was on fire and Roger simply sat next to you, seemingly unfazed.

#roger taylor x reader #roger taylor smut #ben hardy!roger x reader #ben hardy!roger taylor #ben hardy!roger taylor x reader #roger taylor series #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor fanfic #queen fanfic #queen x reader #queen smut #queen series #borhap #borhap series #borhap fanfic #borhap random #FSC fic

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dresupi · 3 years

Text

3 (E) - Jon Snow/Sansa Stark/Theon Greyjoy

for @hchollym 1,197 words Rated E (under the cut) 3 - Britney Spears

~~~~~~~~~~

Sansa wasn’t exactly certain how this had come about. No pun intended. She’d definitely spoken about it with Theon on more than one occasion. But not with Jon.

And she’d be forever flummoxed as to how Theon had broached the topic with Jon when she’d been unable to. Oh to be a fly on the wall for that conversation.

It wasn’t even the first time she and Theon had reached out for other partners. Theon was the epitome of DTF all the time. And he wasn’t picky about who it was, but he did say he preferred another bloke so he didn’t feel like he had to multitask so much. He could pretty much rely on the other guy to pick up the slack in whatever area was lacking.

Jon, though. Jon had always been the more traditional of the two of them. And while he hadn’t had a problem with Sansa dating them both, he’d never really brought it up past reaching out to Theon to find out if it was alright if he and Sansa went to the cinema for two weekends in a row. He was all business.

At least, he was on the outside. He’d shown a kinkier side of himself in the bedroom, so perhaps this wasn’t so much of a surprise. Not now that she had all the information

But before, when they’d both wanted to take her out for her birthday, though, she hadn’t been expecting this.

Theon had started it on her sofa, leaning over to kiss her jaw, to nibble on her earlobe and she’d been torn because Jon was right there while Theon was doing the thing that made her drop her knickers faster than anything else.

“Um,” she’d said, loath to move away from him, but still wondering if Jon was uncomfortable at all.

As if to answer her, he’d placed both hands on her waist and scooted up flush behind her. “Just relax, darling,” he breathed into her other ear, his hand coming round to cup her breast and knead it slightly. She exhaled sharply and Theon bit down on her earlobe and she squealed, which brought a smile to his face, lowering it to hers to kiss her lips this time before releasing her so Jon could turn her to face him, kissing her right after Theon’s lips had left her.

“Gods,” she breathed.

And Theon chuckled. “And we haven’t even done anything yet.”

“Should probably take this back to the bedroom,” Jon said, and Sansa squealed as he hauled her up into his arms and began to carry her back there. Theon was ahead of them, bouncing on her bed and practically stealing her from Jon’s arms and pulling her into his lap. She was straddling Theon’s hips and Jon was moving up behind her, tugging her shirt off and releasing the clasp of her bra so Theon could suck one of her nipples into his mouth.

“I...” she whispered her hands in Theon’s hair.

“Just relax, love, like Jon said,” Theon said softly. “Let us do everything, kay?”

“Everything?” she repeated.

“Yeah, all that stuff we talked about,” he murmured.

Her eyes flew open. “You told Jon?”

“It was an interesting revelation,” Jon replied “Never knew you wanted both of us at once. Wish you’d asked earlier, always wanted to see you in the middle.”

“What...” she whimpered as he reached for the zipper of her trousers, pulling them down with her knickers.

Theon had started removing clothing then, right when Jon’s fingers slid up into her, fucking her with two and then three, coating them liberally in her juices before bringing them back out once more.

He reached for a bottle of lube, apparently divesting himself of his clothing in the process. He slid in behind her, pressing his lips to her shoulder while Theon’s fingers moved quickly between her legs.

“Don’t come yet,” Jon murmured, bringing something from their time alone together into this very quickly. Sansa’s back arched as she clenched her muscles to stave off the orgasm that Theon was rapidly pulling her towards.

“Does that actually work?” Theon asked, not letting up at all, but reveling in how Sansa pulled back obediently. “Well look at that...” He chased her with his fingers. “You listen to him, eh?”

“I... I...”

“Not that I want you to listen to me, just interesting is all..” He went back to slowly rubbing her clit.

By that time, Jon was slicking up his fingers and pushing them up her arse. Sansa was moaning as she rocked back. I’m gonna...”

“Not yet,” Jon whispered. “Not till we’re both inside you, filling you up, darling...”

“Gods,” she groaned. “Hurry up and put them inside me, then...”

Theon chuckled and reached down to grab his cock and roll it over her clit while Jon finally began to lube up his cock. The slick sounds made her belly swoop. He pressed her forward slightly, his fingers splayed between her shoulder blades, and moved up behind her.

When he pressed inside her, she nearly sobbed aloud.

Once Jon was seated, Theon finally pushed inside as well. Jon supported her weight with his arm around her waist while Theon slotted his cock inside her and canted his hips up to fill her slowly.

“Gods,” she moaned, lapsing into incoherent moaning as Jon held her still.

“You first,” Jon whispered and Theon began to move.

They synchronized it and Jon had one arm around her waist, holding her up as she shook on her knees, struggling to stay still in the face of so much pleasure, she could barely take it.

Theon grunted beneath her, “Feel that, Jon?”

“Yes,” Jon murmured, sounding wrecked already. “I can feel you inside her.”

“Fuck,” Theon reached down to roll her clit in his fingers, she came shuddering seconds later, clenching around both of them and making them groan in tandem.

She couldn’t find the words, so she just dug her nails into Theon’s forearms.

Theon slowed to a halt while Jon kept going. He brought his hands up to her tits to pinch at her nipples as Jon began to speed up a bit.

Theon would start to slide into her, groan, and stop again, holding back until Jon shuddered and moaned her name, curling over her back as he shook apart.

“Sansa...” Jon hissed.

“It’s about bloody time,” Theon muttered, sighing as Jon slowly pulled out of her. He held her hips still and fucked up into her, hard and fast. The movements forced little huffs of air out of her and she felt his body stiffen when he finished.

Sansa knew she was a right mess, but it didn’t stop her from collapsing down onto Theon anyway. He didn’t seem to care, he folded her into his arms as Jon sat back and exhaled loudly.

“You okay, love?” Theon asked, kissing her temple and brushing her hair out of her face.

“Think I should probably have a bath,” she said, giggling slightly.

“Think I might join you,” he said.

“I’ll go start the water,” Jon said, bending to kiss Sansa before he left. “Happy Birthday, darling.”

“Thank you,” she breathed.

#Thejonsa #Jon Snow #Theon Greyjoy #Sansa Stark #Jon x Sansa x Theon #Jon/Sansa/Theon #Song Prompts 2020 #Lemon #my writing #hchollym

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getalittleclosey · 4 years

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under 100k larry fic recs

hi! i’m becca and i read...so much fic. these rec lists are an accumulation of fic that i’ve read or reread and extra loved from 2016-now. there’s a wide range of stuff here and i think there’s definitely something for everyone!! i divided them up by length so you can check out all those categories below!

please make sure to read tags and warnings on all these fics!! the only things i think i can guarantee is that these are all larry, there’s no non-con, no age play, no eating disorders, no mentions of bg, they end happy, and they’re mostly aus. oh and they’re all on ao3 and some are locked so you’ll need an account! anyway i hope y’all enjoy!!!

under 5k

under 10k

under 25k

under 50k

100k+

☆ somethin’ bout you by missandrogyny 60k

Of all the government agents in the world, Louis had to go and land the most charming one.

☆ tug-of-war by cherrystreet 63k

Louis' husband dies suddenly and he is left with nothing. Well, not really nothing. He has Harry. And a St. Bernard puppy named Link, whom his late husband left behind for him. Louis takes care of Link and Harry takes care of Louis. Everything is okay until suddenly, it isn't.

☆ cameras flashing by juliusschmidt 82k

With his breakout single platinum three times over and his second album still selling out in stores around the world, Louis Tomlinson has made it to the top. However, his position as Pop Heartthrob of the Decade is threatened by the edgier, more artistic Zayn, who happens to be releasing an album a week after Louis’ upcoming third. Louis needs something groundbreaking- scandalous, even- to push past him in the charts. Much to Louis’ dismay, his PR team calls in The Sexpert.

Consulting with PR firm Shady, Lane and Associates pays the bills so that Harry Styles can spend his down time doing what he really loves: poring over data. On weekends and late into the evenings, he researches gender, presentation, and sexual orientation, analysing the longitudinal study that is his father’s life’s work. That is, until his newest client, the popstar with the fascinating secret, drags him off his couch and frighteningly close to the spotlight.

As the album’s release date approaches, will Tomlinson and Styles be able to pull off the most risky PR scheme of the millennium and beat Zayn in sales or will the heat of their feelings for each other compromise everything?

☆ home to you by crowsonthewire 54k

“If someone wrote that for me I’d probably be a crying mess before it was even over. I’m crying a little right now actually.”

It’s about you, Harry’s brain screamed. I wrote it about you.

Gemma appeared in the doorway then and dragged Louis away. With one winking smile he was gone. Harry curled up and stuffed his face into his duvet so he could cry with no one hearing.

**** At fifteen, Harry wrote his first song for an oblivious seventeen year old Louis Tomlinson. Ten years later he’s a singer/songwriter who cant find any words for his second album and Louis is a closeted actor tired of LA.

They both try to run from the things weighing them down and in the process, they find each other.

☆ fate don’t know you by sincewewereeighteen 99k

“Just. How bad is it?”

Zayn sighs. Shit.

“Not that bad, really,” he says quickly as he scans Louis’ face. “It depends, really. The freshmen are all right and I think you’ll manage just fine with the sophomores.”

“But?”

“Seniors are always shit because they think they rule the school, and this specific class of juniors… Well, let’s say you’ll find a real troublemaker there. Some say he used to be a soft kid, but- I don’t know. Most teachers just leave him alone.” Zayn shrugs. “He walks around with a tough crowd. Guess no one wants to take their chances with him. This is Chicago after all.”

“D’you know the name of the kid?” Louis asks, already very curious to meet said person.

“His name is Harry Styles.” The other man responds. “You’re in for a treat with this one.”

[Or: The one in which Louis always hears thunder when Harry speaks and sees lightning when he glances at him.]

note: this is student/teacher so if that makes you uncomfortable please skip! harry’s 17 but he is still a student so power unbalance and all that but from what i remember it was tastefully done. just like....don’t do that irl obv jfkdaj

☆ like an endless summer by objectlesson 87k

“You just wanna go fawn over Styles as soon as possible,” Zayn grumbles.

“I do not. Plus, he probably got ugly this year. Eighteen is an awkward time...I bet he’s got acne and one of those terrible fuckboy haircuts all the hipsters are getting these days, with the shaved sides? Just watch, the first year we’re gonna get any time together is gonna be the first year I don’t have a stupid crush on him.”

---

Or, Louis is a riding instructor at a summer camp, and Harry is a fellow counselor who he’s been successfully managing his crush on for the last two summers. That is, until Harry shows up this year leveled up and lethal, and all Louis’s formerly perfected veneer of nonchalance melts like a popsicle in the sun.

note: there’s a second part to this that’s 6k of pwp

☆ back to how it was by lululawrence 53k

Harry carefully stood up and was on his way to the window to look outside when he ran his hand through his hair, and it stopped entirely too soon.

He froze then began fervently patting all over his head. Where was his hair? He’d been growing it out for a couple of years now and it was finally almost to the length he’d had as a goal the entire time. How could it have gotten cut off overnight?

Harry rushed over to the mirror hung on the wall adjacent to the window.

Oh shit. What the hell was happening? Harry leaned closer and saw that not only was his hair cropped shorter than he’d ever wanted to go again, but it looked like he had the beginning of crow’s feet by his eyes. Those definitely weren’t there yesterday! And what happened to his tattoos? He still had some of them, like the star and the letters he’d gotten for his mum and Gemma, but most of the rest were missing and there were a few he’d never seen before instead.

What. The. Fuck.

Or the one where Harry goes to bed angry with his bandmates and wakes up in a universe where One Direction was never formed and he has to find a way back home. Home definitely has nothing to do with his best friend and bandmate, Louis. That would be ridiculous.

note: there’s a second part to this that’s 24k!

☆ when we were younger by dinosaursmate 76k

About a week after Harry started visiting this particular chat room, he was watching some kid argue with the whole room about football, personally disinterested as he tipped a bag of crisps into his mouth. He happily chomped on the crumbs, taking a swig from a glass of Ribena to wash them down, glancing at the screen and very nearly spat the squash back out again. His heart was pounding wildly. The display icon of the argumentative newcomer had caught his eye, and not in a good way. He gulped as he clicked the picture, and when it popped up in full resolution, his heart nearly fell right out of his arse. - Sixteen year old Harry Styles’ world turns upside down when he logs on to gay teen chat to discover somebody has stolen his photos and used them as their own.

note: there’s a second part that’s 3k ziam centric

extra note: you don’t want to know how many episodes of catfish i’ve seen

☆ like cabbages and kings by you_explode 61k

When Louis was a kid, he had a series of very vivid dreams about a place called Wonderland. There were rabbits wearing waistcoats and talking cats and ridiculous tea parties, and amidst all the absurdity, there was a boy. A boy with dimples, big green eyes and the sweetest soul Louis has ever known. Louis has always kept a place in his heart for that boy and for his funny dreamworld, and when he’s twenty-five and his life falls apart, it turns out Wonderland might not be so imaginary after all.

☆ knives don’t have your back by turnyourankle 51k

The lone survivor of an on campus massacre that claimed the lives of his four housemates, Harry is urged to take a sabbatical or transfer. Instead, he chooses to stay in school, move into the dorms, and overcome his fears.

He finds comfort in a budding friendship with Louis, an upperclassman who lives on his floor, not realizing that their relationship will bring him closer to his traumatizing past rather than further from it.

☆ loving you is free by littlelouishiccups 68k

Louis is a workaholic record label CEO who hasn't been on a date in nearly a year. Niall and Liam make an account for him on a sugar dating website as a joke. And then Louis meets Harry.

note: there are two other parts to this that are pretty much pwp. they’re 24k and 4k

☆ dance to the distortion by lis (domesticharry) 93k

Louis accidentally breaks Harry's camera lens and in order to get it fixed, they decide to participate in a romantic couples study. The only issue is that they are not actually couple. Well that and the fact they cannot stand each other.

☆ waiting on you by emma1234 77k

“Vampires,” Louis says with disgust, glaring over at the vampire who is noisily slurping from the woman’s neck nearby.

Zayn gives the neat fang marks on Louis’ neck a meaningful look.

“Can’t live with them, can’t live without them,” Louis finishes, ignoring Zayn when he rolls his eyes.

Louis takes a long sip of his milkshake, presses his fingers against the marks on his neck, and definitely doesn’t think about the vampire who left them there.

note: there’s a second part to this that’s 5k

☆ this wicked game by cherrystreet 70k

An AU in which The Bachelor is gay, Louis is a contestant, Harry is the bachelor, everyone drinks a lot of champagne, the entire world gets to watch them fall in love, and no one plays by the rules.

note: i’ve seen maybe five episodes of the bachelor in my life and hated it but i have read every larry bachelor fic

☆ coax the cold by mediawhore 86k

England, 1897.

English Professor Louis Tomlinson’s passion for the occult has been a source of mockery and derision for most of his life. When he hears whispers of a travelling freak show newly established in London claiming the existence of a monstrous sea hybrid, half-man, half-fish, Louis sees it as his ticket to credibility amongst his peers. The summer he spends undercover working on the show, however, gives him much more than that.

☆ this feeling by orphan_account 59k

"Gonna play it back for you now." Louis clicked play and the song flooded through Harry’s headphones.

The sound of each others voices united into one, and the rhythm of the music carried their voices effortlessly. Harry’s insides tingled and a wave of shivers rolled down his spine.

Before the clip cut off, Harry turned to raise an eyebrow at Louis, and failed miserably at disguising his smile. Louis stared back at him in shock.

Or A Larry Duet AU

☆ love’s on the line, is that your final answer? by pearlydewdrops 53k

Harry can’t believe it when Louis, the boy he’s always had a tempestuous rivalry with, asks him to be his boyfriend. Well, pose as his boyfriend, that is—for a new television game show in which young couples are quizzed on how well they know each other for a jackpot of thirty grand.

Reluctantly, Harry agrees—because he's got student loans to pay off, hasn't he? What's the harm? And he can totally deal with keeping his secret thing for Louis under wraps too. This is all just to win some money. It's fine. No big deal. What could possibly go wrong?

Well, everything. Obviously.

☆ say your prayers by nothing_but 59k

Louis was left wondering what the fuck this encounter had been. Coming to this camp - especially after learning that it was a religious one - he had never expected to find himself in a bathroom with the attractive, strictly Catholic, not-gay-or-anything head counsellor making flirty remarks. Quite the opposite, to be honest.

Or the one where Harry, head counsellor at a Catholic summer camp, dedicates his time to what he loves most, year after year. It’s mostly the same every summer; the place, the topics, the games. This year, however, there’s a new assistant counsellor stumbling into his camp, and possibly his heart.

☆ i’ll crash until you notice me by stylinsoncity 61k

Louis sets off to Barbados to oversee the massive resort his family owns known as Sandy Hill. For years, he's been looking for a change in the monotony of his life, seeking adventure and perhaps love too. What he doesn't expect is the bright eyed boy who spills a milkshake on his shoes.

Cue the summer loving.

note: zendaya is listed as a character in this which desperately makes me want to reread it because i don’t remember that!!!

☆ nothing but you on my mind by nonsensedarling 84k

Louis Tomlinson is a PR manager hired to improve the image of royal bad-boy Prince Harry Styles. Unfortunately for him, that means being faced with the Prince's constant innuendos, incessant dirty jokes, and relentless flirting. Louis just wants to make it to Princess Gemma's coronation; once she's crowned Queen, his contract is up and he never has to see the Prince again.

☆ ghost note symphony by whoknows 96k

Louis is on tour when he first hears about it. It’s all over the news – Harry Styles Attacked By Fan runs in headlines for days. It’s not even just the gossip rags, either. Actual journalists are covering the story. It would have been impossible to avoid hearing about it. Technically, Oli is the one who tells Louis about it, but it’s not exactly being covered up. Harry doesn’t answer Louis’ text asking if he’s alright, but that’s not really surprising. They haven’t spoken for months, and it’s been a lot longer than that since they’ve had a real conversation. The sting of the text going unanswered is still there, less painful than it might have been a few years ago.

It’s not that it’s easy to forget about, exactly. Louis has a whole life outside of One Direction now, though. So Louis goes on with his life, figuring that if Harry was seriously hurt he would have heard about it by now. He might currently be in the same country as Harry, but being on opposite sides of it puts enough distance between them that putting it in the back of his mind is easy. There’s nothing Louis could do, even if he thought Harry might want him to.

That’s why everything that happens next comes as a complete shock to him.

☆ thinking about the t-shirt you sleep in by nonsense_darling 52k

Harry's alpha fraternity donates to a local thrift shop (because of Liam's latent crush on a cute beta in his lecture). Louis' financial situation (and confusing omega instincts) lead him to make some interesting fashion purchases. Lots of pizza, feelings, and not-really-lying.

☆ here in the afterglow by fondleeds 89k

“If you hadn’t noticed, I don’t have many friends,” Louis whispers, the blossom of insecurity in his stomach unfurling and clawing its way into his throat.

Harry is silent for a long time, and then he speaks; a soft, slow uncurl that makes Louis’ stomach shake. “I’ll be your friend.”

1970’s AU. In a tiny town in Idaho, Louis’ life is changed forever by the arrival of a curious stranger.

note: i can’t believe i waited until 2020 to read this...it was life changing tbh and i cried

☆ just call me inspiration by hereforlou 52k

The truth is Louis knows he’s going to hell, if there is such a thing, but it isn’t because he writes erotic fiction for a living. If anything, it’s because his muse, the reason he’s inspired to write about people shagging in increasingly creative ways everyday, is the sweetest, loveliest, most genuine (and completely oblivious) future children-book illustrator in the world.

(Or, the one where Louis is a writer, Harry is an art student, and they inspire each other in very different ways.)

☆ truly, madly, deeply (10 things i hate about you) by sunsetmog 54k

The first Louis had heard of Harry auditioning for X Factor was the night he'd turned up on Louis' doorstep the day before leaving for Boot Camp, with a DVD and an illicit bottle of vodka.

Thing was, Louis hated secrets, and he really hated being made a fool of, and he really, really hated Harry Styles.

or: the one in which they're all in sixth form together, and Harry auditions for X Factor without them.

note: this has always been a fav

☆ the impossible now by stylinsoncity 65k

A wish on Christmas Eve sends Louis to an alternate dimension where Harry is a member of One Direction.

☆ swallow the knife by whoknows 76k

“You came,” Louis says, still breathless, clinging to Harry, uncaring that his sweat is getting all over Harry’s presumably clean dad shirt, or that he’s making Harry hold up all of his weight.

“Of course I came,” Harry says. He shifts, one arm curled underneath Louis’ arse, the other spreading wide in the middle of Louis’ back. “If I ignored you every time you pissed me off we would have stopped being friends a long time ago.”

Louis already knows that, of course. It doesn’t do anything to stop the pleased squirm in his belly every time Harry proves it, though. They fight like nobody’s business, both of them too stubborn to pull their punches when they’re arguing, and it used to get them in trouble, but they always make up.

Adrenaline makes Louis loose-lipped, and they both know it. He tightens his arms around Harry’s neck, buries his face in his hair. “I missed you,” he confesses, quiet. “Doesn’t feel the same up there by myself.”

note: i don’t even normally like non-aus but i have read this fic five times in the last nine months so. there’s that.

extra note: there’s an 11k alternate sex scene here

☆ perfect storm by cherrystreet 80k

What do you do when your best friend asks you and your (now) ex to be the best men at his destination wedding? You can either tell him the truth, tell him you’re not together anymore, and deal with the consequences, or you can pretend you’re still together and roll with it, just pray you don’t spiral. Fake it ‘til you make it. You know, for the sake of the wedding.

Harry and Louis choose the latter.

☆ anyplace, anyhow, anytime by aimmyarrowshigh, colazitron 81k

Harry's going to audition for The X-Factor in a few days, he really can't use this persistent tickle in his throat. What's even worse is when the tickle turns into a full blown cough, and the cough makes him pass out only for Harry to wake up in a different world. And then another one, and another one, and another one. The only other person who seems to be as affected as he is, is a boy with blue eyes who keeps showing up in every single one of these worlds.

note: i reread all of aimmyarrowhigh’s larry fics this year including the 500k or whatever sheylinson verse and i thought about putting them all in here but like...felt excessive & i figured i’d give attention to a less well known one, plus this way we get colazitron too!

☆ the second hand unwinds by kingsofeverything (fullonlarry) 52k

Louis Tomlinson is one of the first members of NASA's top secret Chrono Exploration Program. When things go wrong and he's sent further back in time than planned, he has no other option than to show up on his ex-boyfriend's doorstep.

☆ waiting for the tides to meet by nauticalleeds (metamorphosis) 60k

Louis lets out a deep breath, thinking about Harry’s soulmate. Thinking about how Harry’s soulmate is probably as beautiful as Harry, some person that Louis cannot compare to, and how the universe has chosen them to be Harry’s. Fuck the universe. “Fuck you,” he calls out to the universe. He’s aware of how crazy he sounds.

Maybe he is crazy, with how he’s falling for Harry. And fuck that, too.

Soulmate AU. Everyone is born with heterochromia — one eye is their own eye colour, while the other is the colour of their soulmate's. It's only when they meet their soulmate for the first time that their own eyes match properly. After a hazy night at a frat party, Louis wakes up to blue eyes and the shocking realization that he had met his soulmate, without any sober recollection. Seven years pass where Louis comes to terms with the fact that he'll never know who his soulmate is. Then one fated summer, a beautiful green-eyed photographer arrives at Louis' workplace, with promises of endless laughter and a familiar feeling in Louis' heart.

Featuring a lovely cup of OT5, a road trip down the coast, and a scene where Harry eats a whole head of lettuce. Don't ask why.

☆ keep my candle bright by whisperdlullaby 79k

louis returns to his hometown after four years to find that the reverend’s son has done some growing up of his own.

☆ strawberries & cigarettes by dimpled_halo 77k

Harry looks up and immediately freezes. Next to Ms. Archie stands the boy from just the other day. The boy with the leather jacket and chipped black nails, that might or might not be sketched in the very book Harry has just placed on the table in front of him. The leather jacket is missing today, probably because they aren’t allowed as part of their required uniform attire, but Harry can still see the fading black nail polish on his nails, and eyeliner around his eyes. Harry’s mouth goes a little dry. This boy is so intriguing to him.

“Ye-yes, Ms. Archie?” Harry tries to play it cool, but he’s almost positive that his cheeks are burning red, and he’s relieved neither of them can tell how fast his heart is beating in his chest.

The boy seems to also recognize Harry, because his lips curve into a knowing smirk.

“Harry is at the top of his class. He’s your best bet at getting familiar with things around here.” She explains.

Louis nods, his smirk still very prominent on his face. “Thank you Ms. Archie. I’ll be sure to take advantage of young Harold here.”

Summary: Two stories, eleven years, and the two boys that never stopped loving each other.

#one direction #larry stylinson #fic rec #mine #getting those longer fics!!#33 of these wowie #fic masterpost

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calucadu · 5 years

Text

You’ll be the deaf of me

You’ll be the deaf of me, a Boku no Hero Academia/My Hero Academia One Shot.

Summary: “You’re going deaf, aren’t you, Bakugou?” Kirishima said very faintly, noticing how the blond had his eyes on his lips. He frowned slightly. He wasn’t denying it. And not denying it meant it was probably true. In Bakugou speech.

Pairings: Bakugou/Kirishima.

Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Kirishima Eijirou.

Rating: Teen and up

Read on AO3

Or read below the cut

The first thing that Kirishima noticed was that Bakugou always went to the teacher’s room after classes. He wasn’t spying on his best friend. Of course not, he was just looking out for him and making sure everything was fine.

But now Eijirou was curious. What could his best friend be asking his teachers every day? Was it about extra material? Until Kirishima noticed Bakugou didn’t take notes in class. So maybe, instead of extra material, maybe he asked the teachers for what the lessons had been that day?

But then, why would the teachers comply?

Something smelt fishy, really fishy.

Kirishima didn’t think he was the smartest in class, no, far from it, but when he realised that he could do something for Bakugou if he understood what was going on, he decided to use all his brain power to figure it out.

And then, he started noticing small things about Katsuki. Like the way his eyes would always immediately drop to someone’s lips whenever that person started talking.

So, it finally dawned on Eijirou. And it made sense.

“So?” Bakugou asked, unimpressed. He’d seated himself on the redhead’s bed, crossing his legs patiently.

“You’re going deaf, aren’t you, Bakugou?” Kirishima said very faintly, noticing how the blond had his eyes on his lips. He frowned slightly.

“Huh? What did you say, Shitty Hair?”

And then something else clicked inside Eijirou’s brain. The nicknames.

“It’s your explosions, isn’t it?” Now the volume was normal, perhaps slightly elevated, to help his friend out.

“What about my explosions?”

“They’re making you lose your hearing.” Kirishima spoke. He was nervous, hoping in the very pit of his soul that he was wrong.

Bakugou was silent. The frowning persisted, and his lips just pursed some more, but he said nothing.

“You don’t take notes in class. You visit the teacher’s room when classes are over. You don’t call people by their name, you always have a nickname for them, like you didn’t catch their name and didn’t want to damage your pride by putting yourself in a situation where people could figure out what was wrong. Plus your quirk is hella loud, dude.”

“The left one is worse.” He just mumbled. He avoided the redhead’s gaze and squirmed in his seat.

He wasn’t denying it. And not denying it meant it was probably true. In Bakugou speech.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Kirishima asked, trying to hide the pain in his voice. Why couldn’t his friend count on him? He could take notes for him, help him out. Be extra loud and subtly encourage everyone around him to be it too so that Katsuki could have an easier life. But no, the sulky blond had to be extra prideful and just reject everything, especially help coming from his friend.

“Why didn’t I tell you!?” Bakugou snapped, his explosions erupting from his palms, but Eijirou wasn’t fazed. “Why would I tell you?”

“Because we’re friends! Because I can help!” Kirishima threw his head back, letting the wave of frustration roll over him.

“You can’t help!”

“Yes, I can!”

“No, you cannot fucking help! What are you going to do about it!? You don’t even know! The fucking nightmares made it worse! I exploded my hands against my ear for fuck’s sake! It’s not like my hearing was any good anyway after years and years of loud fucking explosions!”

Bakugou had said so much. Explosions. Nightmares. Exploding in his sleep.

“I could… tie your hands down or something!” Kirishima tried to come up with something.

“No, you cannot fucking tie me down.”

Eijirou had an idea why, an inkling of what it could be. But he needed Bakugou to voice his fears.

Katsuki didn’t seem like he was going to, though.

The blond sighed, looking almost defeated.

“I started losing my hearing a few years ago because of how much I use my quirk. And then I started getting nightmares and I accidentally let them off in my dreams, trying to fend off imaginary shit and one time I had my hand next to my left ear. It rang for days and after that it’s never been the same.”

“Are the nightmares… because you got kidnapped?” Kirishima’s brow wrinkled, pity and sympathy in his eyes as he watched his friend closely.

A flash of anger crossed the other’s face, and the redhead knew better than to keep looking at him like that.

“I’m learning how to lip read. It’s a pain in the arse but I have to deal with it.” Bakugou spoke again eventually, his brow still furrowed. “You happy now, Shitty Hair?”

The next day, when Katsuki was about to get ready for school, he found someone had left a piece of paper on the floor. When he picked it up and looked over it, he realised Kirishima must have slid it under the door, either the night before or sometime that morning.

Sign language classes.

And, in Eijirou’s bad handwriting, a note that said: “Come with me! :D”

Bakugou scrunched the paper into a ball in his fist, his brow furrowing.

The redhead was especially loud that day. Bakugou had an idea why, and it was irking him like nothing else that boy had ever done before.

Strangely enough, Kirishima’s plan seemed to be working. When he was louder, the people around him were unconsciously louder as well. So he smiled at Katsuki, hoping he would share his enthusiasm with him.

He was met with a grimace.

Eijirou’s smile almost faltered.

That afternoon Kirishima stormed into Bakugou’s room like always, but he was carrying a red folder the blond hadn’t seen previously.

“I took notes for you in class!” The redhead chirped happily, opening it up and showing his best friend all of his hard work. “I tried to make it as clean and organized as I could, and did my best with my sloppy handwriting.”

Katsuki went over the notes, his face displaying his annoyance.

“They’re riddled with spelling mistakes, idiot.” He mumbled lightly, going over a specifically hard to read paragraph.

“Oh… I tried my best…” Kirishima’s smile wavered and he looked dejected. Bakugou almost felt guilty at his words.

“Well, they’ll help you study.” The blond muttered, turning his head away in embarrassment. “So keep doing them or whatever.”

A week later the redheaded ball of energy barged into Bakugou’s room, rambling on about something that the blond didn’t quite catch.

“Look Bakugou!” Kirishima smiled at him, waving his hands in the air excitedly. “I watched some videos online and I can sign a bit, wanna see?”

“Not particularly.” Came Katsuki’s answer, even if he was a teeny bit curious. Just a little bit. This didn’t deter his friend however, who immediately started to sign, his lips mouthing the words as his fingers and hands did the speaking for him.

“I said I can hear! But I can teach you how to express that you’re hard of hearing!”

Bakugou huffed in mock annoyance. It was getting hard to find all the things the blundering idiot was doing as irritating as they had before. Now, it was mostly… cute.

He scoffed at the idea that whatever the redhead was doing could ever be classified as cute in his mind, but he was eagerly yapping on about how waving his hands this way meant something, and waving them around like that meant something else, his eyes shining eagerly, a happy puppy look to them that was nearly endearing.

“We can go to the classes together! It seems like sooo much fun! I’ve always wanted to learn more ways of expressing myself! And if your hearing gets any worse I could interpret for you! Wouldn’t that be fun?” Kirishima was nearly shouting, his hands returning to his sides as they’d finished with their conversation.

Bakugou didn’t miss that Eijirou had said ‘if his hearing got worse’ and not ‘when’. Maybe it’d been to spare his feelings but Katsuki did appreciate it.

“Alright.” He muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. “We can go to the classes.”

Kirishima threw himself on top of the other, crushing him into a hug the blond nearly responded to. He swore he heard the redhead say something along the lines of ‘I knew you’d come round to it!’.

They were outside the room and Bakugou was hesitant about entering. Going inside meant he would be accepting the fact that he was going deaf, and that was something he was having trouble coming to terms with.

But Kirishima was smiling at him by his side, eagerness emanating off of him, almost jumping up and down on the spot. He would be going with him, despite the fact that his hearing was mostly unaffected.

And, as Eijirou offered him his hand for moral support, Katsuki decided that if his friend could take the plunge, so could he. Grabbing the palm laid out for him, he entered the class, adamant on proving the world that there was no stopping him.

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smokeandtrouble-blog · 5 years

Text

Late

Tommy’s distance and late nights take a toll on his relationship.

You sat on the small armchair, reclined back, having not moved for at least the last half hour. The crackling fire had caught your attention a while ago, but now your eyes were watching it unfocused. Your mouth was dry from the wine you had drunk earlier, but you were too exhausted to move from your seat now.

The clock on the mantlepiece chimed again, and you dragged your gaze to its face. Half past midnight. With a sigh, you pushed yourself out of the chair and lazily walked to the kitchen. The whole house still smelt of the roast you’d made for dinner, the aroma of herbs and meat and gravy slinking through the rooms. Now most of it was wrapped up in the hopes it could be warmed up and eaten some other time.

You grabbed a mug from the cupboard and slammed the door shut. Angry that it didn’t satisfy you, you opened it and slammed it again and again, huffing in the process. Your frustration had to be let out somehow, and without anyone to scream at the cupboard was baring the brunt of it. The air seemed to be thin in your lungs as you turned around and leaned on the counter to catch your thoughts.

Tommy had been late home before. Of course he had; duty always called. You knew that when you married him you were marrying his business as well. But it was taking its toll.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d sat down for dinner together, or the last time you had some time in the morning to yourselves in before he left for work. Normally he at least phoned to say he’d be working late, but tonight you hadn’t heard a word from him. Only hearing through a friend that she’d seen him in the Garrison with his brothers.

It was just getting too much. He was meant to be home on time today, he’d told you he’d make the effort to. So you had cooked a nice dinner, paid more attention to your hair and made sure the house was perfect for his return. And he still hadn’t shown up.

Your hair had fallen into your eyes, and as you tried and failed to tuck it back into your pins your irritation grew. It was impossible to do with a mug in your hand, and with a shout you flung it against the wall.

Porcelain shattered everywhere, ringing as it danced across the floor. The wall had a small chip where it had been hit, and there were shards everywhere. Could you be arsed cleaning that up? No way. That was a job for tomorrow. Today had been bad enough as it was.

With a sigh you kicked at pieces of the broken mug and headed for bed. Just as you were at the bottom of the stairs a key turned in the lock.

‘Oh,’ Tommy said, ‘You’re still up?’

When you spun around you saw that his eyes were glazed over, and you could already smell stale booze on him. His hair was wet, laid straggly on his forehead. It made him look younger, more like when you first met and fell in love with him. He threw his damp coat over a chair and ran a hand through his hair to push it away from his eyes.

‘Weren’t you meant to be back for tea tonight?’ you asked. 'I didn't get a call saying you'd be late.'

He played with the watch on his wrist before he answered. Your eyes darted to the movement instantly. He was nervous. Or guilty.

Just then, the notion that he was with another woman flashed in your mind. Surely not, you thought, everyone knew Tommy's face and word would spread. Then again, everyone knew what happened to people who upset Thomas Shelby too.

'Sorry love, I had a lot on my plate today and it slipped my mind.'

You laughed humourlessly. All the rage you had been stoking with imaginative arguments and wine all evening was bubbling to the surface.

'It slipped your mind,' you said. 'It fucking slipped your mind. Do you know how long I spent slaving in that kitchen today for you? How long I waited before I realised you weren't coming home? That I had to hear from fucking Mary that you were in the Garrison getting pissed while I was sat at home like a dog waiting for its master? You've got a hard neck, Thomas,' you seethed.

He shook his head and took a few steps forward, his arms out as if calming a horse. You couldn’t read the emotion on his face. You hoped it was regret, or guilt, but Tommy was always wearing a mask. And that was really starting to get on your nerves.

‘Y/N, you know what I do. I can’t be here just because you want me to. I’ve got things to deal with,’ he argued, his eyes widening slightly.

‘Are you having an affair?’ You demanded, sick of the cheap excuses. Sick of skirting around the edges instead of getting to the heart of the problem.

‘Are you mad?’ He retorted.

‘I don’t know, am I?’ You replied, voice raising with every word. ‘Because I cant think of any other reason that you’d be boozing in the pub when we had planned to have dinner together. You spend every moment you can outside this house and away from me!’

You were breathing heavily, your nose prickling and tears gathering in your eyes. Tommy furrowed his brow and reached out for your hand but you drew it back sharply.

‘Tell me what the hell is going on, or I swear I’ll walk out that door because I can’t live like this anymore, Thomas,’ you sniffed. ‘I can’t.’ Your vision blurred further as you blinked back the tears that were threatening to fall.

He stared at you, his eyes watering as your face crumpled. It was silent but for the ticking of the clock, and it pushed you further and further over the edge; further and further from reconciliation. You made a start for the stairs again, but he spoke.

'I can't face coming home to a wife that I don't deserve.'

You didn't look back at him, instead focussing on your hand on the banister and your knuckles turning white with your strong grip.

'What?' you asked quietly.

'The things I've done, Y/N; they'd make you sick,' he choked out. ‘And a person like me, they shouldn’t have someone like you looking after them, worrying about them, waiting for them at home.’

Your breathing quickened. You knew what the Peakys were, what they did and how they made their money; but when Tommy was worried like this you knew it was serious. Turning around, you met his gaze. 'What did you do Tommy?'

He opened his mouth, but it took a second for the words to come out. 'I- Look, I know I didn't handle it- us- well. At all. But things with the business, they're getting worse. Real bad. I'm in fucking deep shit.’ He took a shaky breath and avoided your stare. ‘And fuck- I knew you'd be upset. That you wouldn't like me once you'd heard what was going on.’

The fire cracked loudly in the next room as your mind whirred with what Tommy had just said. You had been in a similar situation before when his shell shock was really bad. He refused to talk to you about it. Tried to be a man and get on with it, but it was rotting him from the inside out. Even you could see that so clearly. And although it was laborious, and it took a good while, you finally got him to open up to you.

‘I knew who you were when I married you,’ you said. ‘I knew that things would get tough, and I still went through with it. Because I loved you.’

‘Loved?’ he repeated, deep voice cracking. Your heart broke a little bit with it.

‘Don’t be so stupid, Tommy. Of course I still love you; even if sometimes I wish I didn’t. It would be much easier if I didn’t, but I still do.’ You licked your winestained lips and sighed. ‘But you keeping things from me, all it does is build walls between us and makes us both feel alone in this marriage.’

‘Alright,’ he said. His blue eyes were shining in the dull light, entrancing you. ‘But we’d better sit. It will take a while.’

You followed him into the sitting room and when he sat on the couch you sat next to him, but not too close. There was still tension there; the idea that maybe this relationship could never be salvaged niggling in your ear, that maybe he truly was the monster he thought he was.

And so he began to talk. You hardly spoke yourself, just letting him reel it all out. He told you about the police, about spies, about threats, about murders and kidnappings and torture. When he spoke you felt he was telling you about someone else, that the broken, sad man in front of you couldn’t do the things he was admitting to. But you also knew that he had done bad things before, and from what he said, you saw how easily he had spiraled deep into this underworld.

Once he was finished his eyes were red-rimmed, mirroring yours. Cool air had started to creep up on your legs as the fire waned, and you’d ended up sitting with your leg against his; your hands on his lap, gently caressing his.

Ticking protruded the silence.

‘Can you forgive me, Y/N?’ he asked finally. ‘For all of this shit I’ve dragged us through?’

Your hands stilled and his large hands clenched around them every so slightly. ‘It’s a lot to take in,’ you started, and immediately his face fell. ‘But it’s a start.’ He let out a breath you hadn’t realised he was holding. ‘But I’m serious Tommy, you have to start trusting me. Trust that I’m not going to run for the hills when the going gets tough. I’ll go crazy if I have to pull things out of you again.’

Swiftly, Tommy pulled you into his chest and buried his head into your neck. You wrapped your arms around him just as tightly.

‘I thought for a moment there that you would leave. I really did,’ he whispered. You shook your head against him. It was warm and comforting being in his arms, something that you had sorely missed.

Pulling back, you put your hands on his neck and pulled him down to you, pressing a short, soft kiss against his pink lips. He smiled and kissed you again, sweetly, full of affection. He still tasted of whisky and cigarettes, but you had little care. You knew you probably tasted of wine and cigarettes, too.

You leaned back slightly and rested your forehead on his, searching his intoxicating eyes. He played with the hair at the nape of your neck, and for a second you felt like you were both young again.

‘God, I’ve missed you.’

#peaky #peaky blinders #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders imagine #blinders #thomas #shelby #thomas shelby #reader #insert #reader insert #tommy #tommy shelby #angst #thomas shelby imagine

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rpgmgames · 5 years

Photo

November’s Featured Game: Shooty and the Catfish

DEVELOPER(S): Daniel ENGINE: RPGMaker MV GENRE: Adventure, RPG WARNINGS: Course Language, Gore SUMMARY: Shooty and the Zaat are a dynamic duo solving monstrous mysteries!

Play the demo here!

Our Interview With The Dev Team Below The Cut!

Introduce yourself! Sure! So my name is Daniel, I guess technically I am an animator. I started out making flash cartoons around 2000 just for fun and became a professional animator in the advertising space around 2007. I have been working in media ever since, both in studios and as a contractor working under the Visitors From Dreams label which is also the label I use for my game development. I started dabbling with RPG Maker in around 2002 but I never got very far. Once I got into the media industry I wanted to pick it up again but with Mac being what almost all my work was done on, at home and in studio I didnt get the chance to actually get into it properly again until MV released, infact I was so excited that I purchased MV the day it dropped and immediately begun development on my first title Flatwoods. Ironically Shooty and the Catfish was developed on a PC, but I digress.

What is your project about? What inspired you to create your game initially? *Daniel: Shooty and the Catfish is set up pretty simply. The 2 lead characters, Shooty and Zaat run a sort of monster investigation unit out of their home. They get calls to different desitinations to deal with different monster problems. I really wanted it to feel like it was set up in a similar way to a lot of cartoons from the 80s, where every episode had a pretty similar but still managed to feel like a little self contained adventure. I have thrown in some little elements of an larger narrative but they are light until the final episode. Originally the series was pitched to Frederator for Cartoon Hangover, it got a little ways into early development but then Youtube changed its algorythm and animation on the platform became a struggle and the project was dropped. I didnt want to waste all the work I had done on the concepts and so I eventually tried to find a way to work them into a game, its taken me quite a few years to get as far as I have with development, but I would be even further back if I had tried to animate it all alone. I created Flatwoods to try and get a small project out, you know, to get some experience with the engine, little did I know how much more I had to learn!

How long have you been working on your project? *Daniel: I pitched Shooty and the Catfish back in 2013 from memory, but it didn't start to take shape as the project you currently see until the last 12 months. In that sense I am incredibly happy with how quickly the game has come together.

Did any other games or media influence aspects of your project? *Daniel: So many things have influenced my work its not funny... Where do I even start? Shooty and Zaat have a bit of a Finn and Jake thing going since when the project was originally pitched to Frederator and thats what they were looking for at the time. Resident Evil 4 (the closest any game has ever come to perfection imo) was the inspiration for the games ammo based combat system. Demons Souls originally derailed the project when I tried to emulate its non linear hub based design (you will notice the demo takes place on a single island instead), that created all kinds of balancing issues though so thats all been stripped back and is what lead to the decision to make the game episodic instead. One element from Demons Souls that remains in the game is a diverse mix of linear and looping level designs when it comes to mapping. The game also features towns that have layouts based on unused maps from the Pokemon GS 97 Spaceworld demo since they never made it into any of the actual games in the series. Pokemon GS also influenced the games visuals. I'm not a big RPG guy, but I played a hell of a lot of Pokemon growing up and Gen 2 is still my favorite. Trying to get MV to emulate the limitations of the Game Boy Color was quite the hurdle, I still cant believe I got it working as well as it is. I also have a lot of cameos from other peoples RPGM games, so there's that. Its a big ol' mixing pot of ideas and inspirations.

Have you come across any challenges during development? How have you overcome or worked around them? *Daniel: Countless, the biggest challenge is always scope though. I originally wanted the game to be like 3 hours long tops, now its well in excess of that and that's before I have even put in meaningful NPC interactions. That's why I have decided to break the game up into episodes, each one should be around an hour which is much more my jam. I don't have a lot of free time so I tend to gravitate towards games that are tight and short, I think that's why I am so determined to keep this game in nice manageable chunks. Now that the game is shorter I don't need levelling so I am starting to tone down the RPG elements. One change always leads to another, but episode one is getting damn close to completion. I say this before I have even had the chance to announce the game's going to be episode on my own blog, ha ha. Episode 1 January, The Great Spore Chore! Keep your eyes out for it!

Have any aspects of your project changed over time? How does your current project differ from your initial concept? *Daniel: As mentioned above a lot has changed, I feel the biggest change was when I tried to move the game from being episodic into one adventure after playing through a bunch of other RPGM games for ideas, it all started to feel a bit aimless and the storytelling techniques I had planned when it was episodic weren't translating well as the game progressed. So I guess now the game is episodic again we have come full circle! So many ideas seemed good on paper but ended up not really being fun or adding anything in practice. Oh yeah, and the transition from Game Boy green to color was a big one based on feedback from the demo. Some people were finding it hard to tell what elements were interactable, doors in particular, I hope that color has helped minimize that issue. Key items will also have an animation on them so they are hard to miss. I'm not a fan of hunting for items in big maps, it's certainly not something I want to subject people too in my own projects.

What was your team like at the beginning? How did people join the team? If you don’t have a team, do you wish you had one or do you prefer working alone? *Daniel: This project has had a few key people involved. Outside of myself I have worked with 2 musicians. One is an old school friend who did music for my animations back in the early 2000's. He has contributed a bunch of really cool EDM which makes up most of the games OST. On top of that there is also a number of optional bosses (one per episode) that have music composed by Secret Agent Ape who worked on Soma Spirits and a bunch of other upcoming games. I have been really lucky to get to work with such rad dudes.

What is the best part of developing the game? *Daniel: I love designing enemy battlers, my process usually involves me drawing a weird shape, sticking some eyes and a big goofy nose on it and trying to come up with a stupid pun to use for a name while listening to bands like Yes or Klaatu. It's bliss. I have a lot of people ask me why I have limited myself in terms of resolution and color palette, and it comes down to one of the important things I told myself when I got into game making as a hobby was that I would stop if it ever started to feel like work. I spend my days doing heavy visual effects and compositing, sometimes doing complex character animation. I want to keep that stuff as far away from my game development as possible. Ironically working within the incredibly restrictive limitations of the Game Boy has ended up being incredibly liberating and keeps things feeling fun as opposed to feeling like more of what I do all day to pay the bills.

Do you find yourself playing other RPG Maker games to see what you can do with the engine, or do you prefer to do your own thing? *Daniel: I always enjoy checking out demo's of upcoming games. Both Heartbeat and Virgo and the Zodiac's demos blew me away from a technical standpoint on the MV front. I still find it hard to believe those demos were made with the same engine I'm using. I guess it really shows what can be done when the engine is in capable hands. I wish I had more time to play actual full releases, I mean Jimmy and the Pulsating Mass just came out and I have no idea when, if ever I will have the free time to play it because its such a commitment. I feel like I am missing out on some great stuff.

Which character in your game do you relate to the most and why? (Alternatively: Who is your favorite character and why?) *Daniel: I guess I relate to different characters in different ways. Slim Grim is the one who hands out assignments to Shooty and Zaat, he is pretty much done with life, over people and the world itself, I think thats something we all have a bit of inside of us. Shooty is a very positive individual, his solutions to most problems is a bullet with a smile, and I think theres a bit of that in all of us as well. Zaats a bit of a cheeky smart arse, so I guess in a lot of ways I am most like her as a person. One of the episodes also features Gerkinman who is and has been a sort of self insert in my work since 2001 so I guess technically I relate to him most... ha ha, but thats cheating!

Looking back now, is there anything that regret/wish you had done differently? *Daniel: I wish I had done a better job keeping the project focused. I feel like a good few months were spent making the game bigger in ways it didnt need to be.

Once you finish your project, do you plan to explore the game’s universe and characters further in subsequent projects, or leave it as-is? *Daniel: All of my games are loosely connected, taking place in the same world. None of them tie directly into each other, im not big on the cinematic universe concept that seems so popular right now, but events in my previous 2 releases and the 5 planned episodes of Shooty and the Catfish are loosely connected in ways people who take the time to look can find. They are also tied into around 17 years worth of animated shorts I have released. I have no plans on stopping now!

What do you look most forward to upon/after release? *Daniel: Well, theres quite a few things... Mapping for all 5 episodes (outside of towns) is complete, so when Episode 1 is done I will be immediately rolling into Episode 2. I am aiming to have an episode out every 2 months which should be doable with so much of the game already finished. I also have a couple of short films I am looking forward to being able to invest some time into, things have slowed down in recent months due to freelance but I am eager to get to animate some of my own work again. I am also eager to see the comments sections on Lets Plays. Both Flatwoods and Hazmat got a bit of Lets Play action and a couple of those have some pretty substantial comment sections. The amount of theories people try to put together for these projects is staggering. I could never write something as entertaining as what the speculations in these comment sections contain in terms of what my games mean, it cracks me up and I find it quite flattering that random people have put more thought into elements of my stories then I have. Makes me want to keep things deliberately vague just to encourage more of it. Lastly I will be releasing all the build files for the project so if anyone wants to make fangames or whatever they have direct access to all of the core files used to build the games. Im a big fan of the concept of a mod community, and while RPGM doesnt exactly allow for that, id love to see people do similar things to my work as whats been done with a lot of LISA fan games.

Is there something you’re afraid of concerning the development or the release of your game? *Daniel: I don't know about being afraid exactly. I am curious about how my business model for the episodic releases will go over. I was planning on releasing them at $1 an episode and $4 for the bundle when it's all complete. I know some people think thats still charging too much, but some people have also told me im not charging enough and that it lowers price standards accross the board for RPGM content. The way I see it if I can cover the costs of Steam and the music I commissioned then I've done alright since this project was for fun, but that's just me.

Do you have any advice for upcoming devs? *Daniel: Just keep at it and set yourself small goals. If your working on a big project break it up into manageable sections. Take things one map at a time, ya know what I mean?

Question from last month's featured dev @overcast-rpg: If you could choose an RPG Maker gamedev to release another game; which one would you choose and why? *Daniel: Oh that's an easy one, The Catamites. I love Space Funeral, it's easily my favorite game made in the engine, and while The Catamites has developed countless games since its release, they have all been in other engines. It would be fun to see them return to the engine after all they have learned about game design since Space Funeral's release and to see what they would do.

We mods would like to thank Daniel for agreeing to our interview! We believe that featuring the developer and their creative process is just as important as featuring the final product. Hopefully this Q&A segment has been an entertaining and insightful experience for everyone involved!

Remember to check out Shooty and the Catfish if you haven’t already! See you next month!

- Mods Gold & Platinum

#rpg maker #rpg maker games #indie games #free games #pixel games #shooty and the catfish #games #gotm #game of the month #november #november 2018 #inktober 2018 #gotm 2018 #game making #game development

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moon-beam95 · 5 years

Text

Afternoon Delight ~Cisco x Reader~ Smut

By Moon-Beam95

Fandom ~ The Flash

Words ~ 1360

She strutted into star labs heels clicking, searching for her elusive boyfriend, today she was determined to have at bare minimum a moment of his time. She never begrudged him his time spent getting lost in various pieces of tech or going of to fight metas, how could she when what he was doing was so selfless. Yet, she was beginning to find it hard to remember the last time they spent more than a few minutes together or exchanged something more substantial than pleasantries. No, today they were going to spend time together and be damned anyone who got in her way.

Finding him in his lab, oblivious to anything except his latest piece of tech she paused, feeling something akin to guilt at disturbing his concentration. He clearly hadn't heard her arrival, so she paused,hands folded leaning against the door, she loved him best like this, so focused, hands moving with precision, and serious the opposite of his usually goofball nature.

A smile tugged at her lips, he was just so beautiful. She stood, unfolding her arms and crossed the lab, she could see the moment he recognised her in the slight tensing of his shoulders. She settled her hands on them, before placing a soft kiss on his cheek.

“I think it's time we got you some grub before you become one with the lab”

“Cant, gotta finish this emitter”

“You’ve been working non-stop for ages, would it really kill you to take a break?”

He just grunted at her, as annoyance began to settle in. “Cisco. When was the last you ate? Or saw outside the lab? And i’m not talking about going to fight metas.”

“Later, just gotta finish this.”

“You’ve been finishing stuff for days now.” Seeing him still not properly acknowledging her she let her hands drop from his shoulders, she heaved a sigh before turning to leave, “fine, finish what you need, if you find time call me.”

He finally looked up, noting the slump of her shoulders , the way she clutched at her arms as she left and felt a stabbing of guilt. She was sad, and he had caused it, too focused on, well everything but her. He stood taking off his goggles dropping them with a clatter to the bench, before string to grasp her arm, pulling her into his embrace. Head tucked under his chin he stroked her hair, placing a tender kiss on the crown of her head. “I’m sorry” he said.

“I know,” she sighed, “I know.”

“I don’t mean to get so wrapped up in my work, but that’s no excuse,” He paused, stepping back til she was at arms length gazing into her eyes and continued, “But I will always have time for you, just sometimes I may need a kick as a friendly reminder”

She giggles “I can do that.”

Grinning at her he once more drew her close, kissing her slowly, lovingly. She pushed closer, turning the kiss heated as their tongues battled for dominance. Breaking away panting, she lunged forwards again, needing him to keep kissing her. Groaning they walk backwards til he had her backed against a workbench, one leg pressed between hers.

“Cisco,” she panted. It had been too long since they’d been together.

His lips moved to her neck, mouthing gently at the flesh before nipping at the slender column of her throat drawing out a whine. As she ground down on the firm thigh nestled against her, hands reached to fondle her breasts, feeling her nipples protruding through the thin material.

“As much as I love this, I need you now.”

Stepping back he arched one eyebrow, before tugging her close and spinning her round. She allowed herself to be bent over the bench, hand gripping the cold metal as she turned to look coyly over her shoulder. He leaned forwards to kiss her hand running down her spine, cupping her backside.

Finally, he pushed her skirt up to her waist and slowly dragging her knickers down her toned legs, tossing them carelessly off to the side, he palmed the soft flesh of her arse, before giving one firm slap. Smirking as she jerked forward, back arched. She turned her head, lip bitten whined out a "Cisco" before shaking her rear at him "please."

With one hand splayed posessively across her hip the other dropped lower, a finger tracing her dripping mound. Gathering wetness he pushed two fingers into her heated core, expertly stretching her, loving the way she trusted herself eagerly onto them. Head thrown back moaning not caring that anyone could walk into the lab.

They'd been so busy these past weeks, meta after meta appearing but as much as he wanted to savour this moment he needed her now. Reluctantly pulling away his hand, he brought it to his lips relishing the taste that was purely her. Then dropped to his knees and burying his face between her lips. Wrenching a startled moan from her, he held her hips in place offering her no relief, she’d only have what he gave her.

Tongue lapping at her, he latched onto her clit sucking the small bud into his mouth tongue flicking repeated over it. He continued this action alternating it with fucking her with the muscle. He stiffened his tongue, burying it as far as he could inside her, she was just so hot and gods he loved her grinding on his face. He could feel her insides fluttering, she began to writhe around, need just that bit more as she drew closer and closer to the edge. He could feel her walls beginning to tighten and drew back, face glistening with her juices.

"What? NO, please"

"Turn you head back"

Not waiting to see if she complied he quickly unzippered his pants and drew out his cock, hard and heavy. He stepped back between her legs, one hand grasping his cock the other curled around her hip running his swollen length between her lips, gently grinding into her clit, causing her moan out. Pushing home they both groaned, one due to the tight heat surrounding him, the other due to finally being filled.

He drew back, cock sliding out before snapping his hips, "fuck"

They moved in tandem, him continuously spearing her onto his cock, and her working herself back and forth, "Ahh" he smirked knowing he’d hit her spot. Aiming once more for that place he set a rigours movement. The slapping of flesh punctuated with moans filled the lab. His hand snuck between them, furiously rubbing her clit, she froze mid moan abruptly and positively shattered.

Her cunt clenched and released, the sudden tightness edging him closer to the precipice. "Cisco, fuck, cum." He slammed into her one final time hands clenching her hips in a vice like grip as his cock swelled and exploded, painting his walls in copious amounts of cum.

"Shit"

She moaned loving the feeling of him filling her. Chests heaving he leaned down pressing a kiss to her shoulder before allowing himself to slip from her. What a picture she made, hair pulled over one shoulder, breasts shuddering, skirt rucked up around her waist and his cum leaking from her.

Hearing voices they both snapped to attention, him tucking himself back in his pants and her pulling her skirt back down both desperately trying to look like they were doing anything other than fucking in the lab.

"Have you seen the.." Barry came to a pause before stuttering and falling slightly, "never mind Caitlin's calling, huh what's that you need to see me?" Before speeding off leaving papers flying in his wake.

Cisco and Y/N shared a glance the latter flushing the former smirking, trying to assess what they'd missed. They looked like they'd had a rather intense make out but nothing more untoward, before sharing a giggle. What they hadn't known or rather forgotten about was Y/N’s panties flung across the lab and the heavy scent of sex in the air. And from where she stood by Cisco's desk for all in tents and purposes helping him with the latest gadget you make out cum slowly dripping down her legs.

fin.

#fanfic #cisco x reader #Cisco Ramon Smut #cisco smut #cisco imagine #cisco drabble #the flash smut

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sa-lt-ys · 6 years

Text

The Strongest

Prompt/AU: "Would you be cool with writing a Markus one-shot where the reader is Carl’s niece, and whenever she visits him Markus gets really happy and he doesn’t understand why? Maybe he asks Carl and he’s like “well I’ll be DaMnEd, you’re in love!” And tells Markus to confess to her next time she visits and when he does it’s all fluffy and cute??"

Universe: Detroit: Become Human Pairing: Markus (RK200) X Fem! Reader Warnings: mild swearing, mentions of violence Word Count: 1712 words

Sometimes, vague bouts of insomnia are a pain in the arse, but in times like this, they're great because suddenly my productivity goes through the roof.

Also, should I go multi-fandom? There's only so many stories you can tell in one world after all, and its a question that's been going around my head for a long time.

Anyway, I digress, thank you to the beautiful anon who asked for this!!

~~~

You parents had always said that you had your uncle's blood in your veins, and you never really understood why until you met him for the first time you could recall.

Standing in his studio, eyes wide with wonder as you looked around at all the paintings, you were sure that everything changed for you the moment your uncle handed you a pencil and a sketch pad -- bought specially for you -- and then told you to draw whatever was in your heart.

From that day, your art progressed from unicorns and stars to dragons and heroes and from there to tortured youths and shadows with hearts. Eventually, your pencils began to reveal lighter topics, though they never lost that dark undertone from your early teens and hectic school years.

"Welcome back, (Y/N)", and there you stood, an almost fully functioning adult with a bag slung on your shoulder filled with pencils and pads, and a huge smile on your face as you saw your favourite android (Roombas didn't count).

"Hey Markus, he isn't being too much hassle, is he?" The RK200 happily returned your smile as you strode along, side-by-side in the direction of Carl's studio.

"Well, he's ignoring his doctor's advice again with his medication, but I cant see that ever changing." You chuckled as you walked along.

"Maybe he'll listen as the same day he puts hi brush down." It was Markus' turn to laugh then as you both entered the studio and -- as always -- spotted Carl high above you, already working on his new piece. Though, to you, it just looked like blobs of blue... but, Carl kept insisting you would see the true picture once it was finished.

"That's the thing with us humans," he had said with a gentle smile. "Sometimes our full stories are never told until we are already gone."

"Hey Carl! I got those paintbrushes you wanted!" You shot your uncle a smile, which was happily returned as the older man lowered himself down to receive your hug.

"Did you? But I thought they were too expensive for you to afford," his confusion only made your smile brighter as you pulled the brushes out of your bag.

"Yeah, well, I know a couple people, and they helped me to get a discount, so it ended up still being pretty expensive, but affordable enough that I can survive." Your uncle tutted, taking the brushes with a smile and turning to see an... extremely happy Markus setting up your little artsy area.

"Markus, do me a favour and get some money for (Y/N)?"

"Carl, no," you also turned to the android. "Markus, don't, they weren't that expensive, okay? Honestly, I've got enough to get by." You groaned as Markus walked past you, and out of the studio.

"Carl! Come on! You know I always feel bad with this stuff! You don't need to give me all this money! And, also, why is it that Markus never listens to me with this kind of thing!" Carl chuckled, watching as you pouted like you used to as a kid.

"For one, I know when I give you money, you'll use it right, and you're not... misguided like Leo is. As for Markus, I can only guess why." You sighed, but let the matter go.

"Whatever, its not like I can convince you otherwise. I've tried too many times, and its never worked." After letting out another sigh, you wrapped Carl in another hug. "Thanks anyway, old man."

~~~

Several hours -- actually, many hours -- later once you had left, Markus sat with Carl and watched him sketch little nothings like he always did after dinner. It was a relaxing pastime for both of them, and a time they usually took for talking as well.

"Carl... can I ask you a question?"

"Hm?" Markus hesitated, fiddling with his hands as he tried to find a way to explain, his LED whirring yellow.

"When... With (Y/N), I... I don't know how to explain it, but..." Carl looked up from his pad with a smile.

"You always feel happy with her near?" Markus didn't know why he was surprised, Carl always seemed to know what he was thinking.

"Yeah, why is that?" For a moment, Carl couldn't get any words out through his laughter and fond smile, but he managed eventually.

"Well, I’ll be damned, Markus, son, I think you might just be in love with her." He let out a deep, weary sigh befitting of an old man and let his gaze drift away. "She was always a strong girl, never afraid to draw something new, or to draw whatever was in her heart... I think you two will make a good couple." He turned his eyes back to Markus. "Just protect her, got it?" The android nodded with a smile of his own.

"But, how do I tell her?" Another fond smile.

"Just tell her next time she comes round. (Y/N)'s always been the type of girl who likes an honest person. You just tell her straight how you feel? I'm pretty sure she'll reciprocate."

"R-right... I'll try."

~~~

You were there again the next day.

"(Y/N), back so soon?" You walked in with a huff, barely able to spare a smile for your favourite android.

"Yeah... I got fed up with my parents again. They keep saying that I cant make a career out of art, I cant be like my uncle. Loads of bullshit, it just pissed me off, so I just grabbed my bag and walked out." You let out a deep sigh, scrubbing a hand over your face and pushing a few stray strands of hair out of your face. "Is Carl in his studio as always?" Markus nodded, but didn't move.

"Yeah, but... can I talk to you for a second?" Your heart skipped a beat but you hid it away. Emotions for an android? Even you weren't that stupid.

"Sure, what's up?" For a long moment, there was nothing but silence.

"I... You... I just..." Nothing came out except almost gibberish, and after a while, Markus gave up with a deep sigh. You simply stood there, completely oblivious to what Markus was trying to say.

Until, it was all ruined.

"He has a crush on you!" Your head snapped towards the doors leading towards the studio.

"Was that..?" Markus was also looking too, and walked forward until the doors opened to reveal--

"Carl!" With a angry cry, the older man whizzed off with incredible speed for a 70-something cripple in a wheelchair, leaving you and Markus alone again.

"For crying out loud, he's a nosy old-- wait," you spun around to face Markus. "You... you have a crush on me?" Your face turned red as the android nodded.

"Oh..." Markus didn't look at you as he began t speak.

"I understand if you don't feel the same way, i-if you want, we can pretend this never--"

"No." He was stopped by that simple word, and finally worked up the courage to look at you.

You were looking at him, a gentle smile on your face despite the blush, and your hand was held out towards him.

"I... I feel the same way, so don't worry Markus. I was just a little shocked is all." You let out what Markus thought to be the most adorable giggle. "Why don't we go and draw together? I heard Carl's been trying to get you to do some art recently?" With a smile and a nod, Markus gently took your hand and had a little laugh of his own.

"Yeah, I'd... I'd like that."

~~~~

EXTRA BONUS SCENE FOR YA THIRSTY HOES

~~~~

The humans were attacking.

Androids were dying.

You were covered in blue blood.

Head to toe.

Gunshots rang out everywhere, and your hearing was spattered with high pitched ringing as you dragged yourself to some kind of cover, hoping that if you played dead, the humans would leave you alone... Or maybe they wouldn't... after all, how would they feel about a human standing with the leader of the android rebellion?

"(Y/N)!" Who was calling your name? It sounded familiar, but the ringing kept getting in the way.

Still, you sat up slowly from where you had been sprawled on the ground, and with a hand to your worst ear, you peeked around what seemed to be an old bin, looking for whoever had called your name.

From directly across you, you could see Markus looking around frantically, North tugging at him to get back to cover.

You stood up shakily, and waved a hand at him. He saw, and within seconds, was by your side.

"Markus, the humans, they--" ducking and dodging more gunfire, Markus held on to your with a tight grip as you reached the last group of androids. You were backed into a corner. You were trapped.

Where was Connor? He was supposed to be back now... but, his partner was still alone, tears clear for all to see as they stood beside you, their hand slowly grabbing onto yours for security and comfort.

"Markus," you turned to look at your boyfriend. "I'm scared." His hand tightened around yours slightly, and he turned to give you a tight smile.

"I know," he said gently. "So am I."

Silence fell with the snowflakes as the soldiers approached you, guns aimed at your faces. With your heart hammering in your chest, you pushed back your tears, and decided that finally, you would do something for Markus, when he had done all for you.

So you stepped forward.

Your hand slipped out of Markus'.

"(Y/N), what are you--" You took in a deep breath.

"Hold on, just a little while longer~" Your voice carried in the still air, and you saw all the soldiers hesitate, giving others the courage to step forward and join you as you all sang for you freedom, your life, and your love.

And from behind you, Markus watched with a proud smile, Carl's words coming back to him.

"...She always was a strong girl."

Yes, Markus thought, moving to stand beside you as his voice joined with yours in a perfect harmony as did his hand with yours. She was always the strongest.

#I'm in love with this #again #why #dbh #detroit #Detroit become human #dbh markus #RK200 #markus RK200 #dbh markus RK200 #dbh markus x reader #dbh RK200 markus x reader #carl manfred #dbh carl manfred #dbh markus mafred

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