#if you're seeing this artwork that means you're now a part of the date as well ngl kinda cringe bro | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

psychedelic-ink · 11 months

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𝐇𝐈, 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐝

pairing: pre outbreak!joel miller x f!reader, one sided tommy miller x f!reader

genre: angst, smut, romance, slow burn, mutual pining, secret relationship

series summary: After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance. The reason for this is due to one crucial fact you don’t know but he does; Tommy has a crush on you. Which means you’re off limits no matter what. But as your own feelings for Joel grow, things start to get more and more complicated.

word count: 8k

chapter summary: Joel takes you on your first date. A barbecue meant to be fun becomes a minefield of unpleasant memories for Tommy.

warnings: mutual masturbation, piv, dirty talking, light spit play, PTSD, war flashbacks, angst towards the end

a/n: yup, you're seeing correct, I uploaded a day early!! woooo

Chapter Ten || Chapter Twelve

When Joel mentioned taking you out for a date, you couldn't help but imagine something simple and unassuming, just like him. You envisioned a quaint, unpretentious restaurant where you could share intimate conversation, followed by a leisurely stroll back home. You knew Joel wasn't exactly an innovative man; however, his wood carving skills, took you by surprise when he showed you some of his artwork, it made your heart grow fonder for him. As much as he poked fun at himself for not understanding art, or knowing much of it, he was an artist.

In the end, you weren't expecting anything extravagant, and you had no complaints about it. That was a part of his Texan charm. It was who he was, and you loved him for it.

What you didn't expect was to take a thirty to forty-minute drive to South Congress.

“You didn't have to go through all this trouble,” you say as Joel opens the truck door for you. Smiling, he rolls his eye. He offers you his hand, and with a skip in your heart, you accept it, feeling the heat of his palm. Joel steadies you as you hop down from the vehicle. Sarah was at another sleepover, carefully orchestrated by Joel, making it the perfect time for him to take you on the first date he mentioned a couple of days ago.

“It’s no trouble,” he answers, moving his jaw. “But if you keep sayin’ that I’m gonna start thinkin’ you’re not a fan of the idea.”

“Oh, I’m definitely a fan. No need to worry your pretty head about that.”

Before taking the first step, he holds your arm and tugs you back toward him. Your eyes widen when he throws your jacket over your shoulders, “‘Might get cold,” he murmurs, fingers skimming down your bare arms. Then he sighs. “I love it when you call me pretty. Makes me all tingly inside.”

“Well then,” you smile, leaning closer. “Let me say it again, you’re pretty. Prettiest man I know.”

Joel's lips curl into a wide grin, his humming filling the air. “I’m blushin’,” he teases, capturing your lips in a swift, lingering kiss, lacing his fingers with yours. “I knew this would be a good idea,” he mutters against your lips in a self-congratulatory tone. His taste lingers on your mouth, leaving you craving more.

“I don’t want to burst your bubble but I’m still not sure what we’re doing here. You never told me.”

Hand in hand, you and Joel set off, walking down the street at a leisurely pace. The sun, beginning its descent from the vast expanse of blue skies, painted the world in a soft, golden hue.

“We’re here to look at the murals,” he explains. “Thought you might like it, bein’ an artist and all. And if we get hungry there’s this Tex-Mex place I like to go to, I take Sarah there all the time.”

He's nonchalant about it, yet he still averts his eyes. A soft crimson flares under his shirt, creeping up his neck and tinting his cheeks. Your heart beats quickly. You may now be a part of his life, but Sarah will always hold a tender place in his heart. Something he hesitates to share, like a tiny box of secrets. She's his everything. You wonder how many times he had to keep that part of himself hidden, how many times he mentioned his daughter and saw the hesitation in the other party's eyes. It's no one's fault, really. It's a complicated situation no matter which side you consider. And you're fairly certain he's never mentioned his romantic endeavors to Sarah. Why would he? To him, none of it ever led anywhere, so there was no sense in telling her about it.

You don't want him to be nervous about sharing more about that part of his life. You have adored Sarah ever since you met her. Now, you're somewhat grateful that it took the two of you longer than normal to get here. It gave you a chance to show him that no matter the state of your relationship, you'll be there for Sarah, for Tommy, and for everyone he cares about.

Because you care about them too.

“You visit here a lot?”

He tips his chin, “We used to,” he answers and offers you his arm, you thread the gap between torso and tricep. “When she was five we came here a lot. Really liked it.”

A half chuckle, half exhale leaves his lips. You give him a sympathetic look. “Well, maybe we can come here together one day. Tommy too. We can make a day of it, I bet she misses it.”

"Yeah," his eyes glaze over for a second, looking ahead towards the sun-kissed street. You softly dig your nails into his arm, snapping him out of it. He blinks and tenses under your touch. "Yeah, we definitely should. Maybe during spring break or somethin’."

You squeeze his arm again, and when he turns to look at you, you smile. He returns it in kind, and you feel his smile leave an imprint on your skin as his lips touch your forehead.

“Can’t wait to show you all of it, sweet tea.”

And he does.

Joel shows you everything that he loves. The streets of Austin come alive with vibrant murals, each one captivating in its own way—some simple, some complicated. You see the South Congress Mural on South Congress Avenue that stands tall, its graffiti letters painted in vibrant colors, depicting the cityscape. The italicized phrase 'I Love You So Much,' spray-painted by Amy Cook for her partner Liz Lambert—Joel doesn't say much here. He stares at it for a while before gripping your hand tighter. Suddenly, he tugs your arm, pressing his lips firmly against yours, sucking the air from your lungs. Here, you take a quick coffee break and continue on.

There are so many. Your eyes catch sight of a mural depicting a piece of toast and yellow butter, lovingly painted on a vibrant blue wall, inside the piece of butter and toast it says “you’re my butter half”. You laugh and nudge Joel in the ribs and repeat the words to him. His smile is the widest you’ve ever seen.

Joel introduces you to Jeremiah the Innocent. A smiling cartoonish frog, on top of it you read HI, HOW ARE YOU. He then told you that Jeremiah had another name as well— Ron. Named by, of course, Sarah. Leaning closer, you tell Joel that you agree, the frog looks much more like a Ron rather than a Jeremiah.

After that Joel, a keeper of his word, takes you to a small Tex-Mex place. He orders chips and queso as an appetizer, followed up by two cold beers and tacos.

"I think you might have killed me," you say, rubbing your stomach and leaning back as the cold metal of the chair bites into your skin.

Joel cocks an eyebrow, a small smile touching the corner of his lips. “So. . .no dessert?”

“Don’t joke,” you answer seriously. “I always have room for dessert.”

He laughs, “You sound like Sarah,” just as you begin to smile, he adds. “And Tommy actually. That man has an endless pit instead of a stomach.”

“Tell me about it.” you grin.

The sun begins to disappear, shades of light blue fading into something darker that lingers in the sky. It reminds you of the times when you angrily slap your widest brush on top of the canvas and just move it around without any aim or goal. The string lights come to life. Joel looks gorgeous under the soft glow; it's almost dreamlike. If you were to reach out, you're not entirely sure that he wouldn't fade away.

His hand finds yours over the table, lacing your fingers together. A stuttering, silent breath escapes your lips. The effects of alcohol buzz both in your veins and mind. His thumb traces your knuckles, a gesture so familiar yet foreign at the same time. With a smile, you bring the back of his hand to your lips before he does. You tenderly kiss him, feeling the softness of lips moving over the mountains and valleys of his hand. His breath hitches, and your ears feel warm.

"Should we head back?" he murmurs, his voice dipping into something darker. His thumb finds purchase on your lower lip and tugs on it, eliciting a soft gasp. "I think I'm gettin’ hungry again."

You kiss the pad of his thumb as he cups your cheek, and you nuzzle into the width of his palm. Wetness gathers between your legs, heat building at the base of your spine. You can't wait for him to devour you.

Joel’s fingers trace the spine of the book that lays idly on your bedside table. He adorns a soft smile, gaze curious as he picks it up.

“I’ll be right back,” you say, turning your back as he begins to flip through the pages. “I’m going to freshen up a bit, make yourself comfortable.”

With that, you exit the bedroom and head to the bathroom. You're feeling positively tingly. The ache in your bones would normally entice you to go to bed early, but sleep is the last thing on your mind right now. All you want is for that man to ravage you. During the drive back, the only thing on your mind was his lips, his hands, his cock—his weight on your body.

You quickly splash cold water onto your face, sighing as the cool numbness replaces the sticky sweat from the day. After brushing your teeth, you head back.

You smile when you see Joel sitting at the edge of the bed, book still in hand.

He’s looking at something.

You raise an eyebrow, taking a step closer. There’s something in his hand, something smaller and vaguely familiar.

Shit.

Shit shit shit shit.

“Joel?” Your voice barely manages a whisper, you're surprised he hears your pleading call of his name. He flinches, shoulders raising all the way to his ears. You clear your throat. “What. . . What are you looking at?”

You already know the answer.

"How long have you had this?" he asks, every word sounding dull. He twists his body enough to face you, holding the small Polaroid picture between his fingers— oh god, you're screwed, aren't you?

"I-I can explain," you blurt out, increasing your steps' speed. You stand in front of him, the picture's glossy surface reflecting the light into your eyes. "You forgot your magazine, and when I opened it to read it, the... the picture just fell out, I swear! I know I should've told you, gave it back, but, well, I—"

Unable to keep your eyes open due to the constant spinning of the world around you, you close them. His gaze remains fixed on you, half moons hidden beneath bushy eyebrows. Embarrassment surges through you, heating you from the inside out. In a fit of desperation, you cover your face with both palms, sighing into them. "Fuck, I'm so sorry," you mutter, your voice muffled by your hands.

Joel stares at you, dumbfounded. With shaky legs, he stands and gently cups your wrists, tugging your hand away from your face. You refuse to meet his gaze, your eyes glued to a spot on his neck. You miss how wide his eyes are, how his gaze grows soft as he stares.

“Why are you sorry?” he whispers. “I think you misunderstood, sunshine. I ain’t mad. I’m embarrassed.”

“What?” you furrow your brows, lifting your gaze. “Why?”

He smiles, “Lots of why’s goin’ around,” you continue to stare and he clicks his tongue. “It’s a half-naked picture of me. A picture that I took, you can’t blame me for gettin’ flustered.”

“You look good.”

“Thanks,” he scoffs with a raised eyebrow. “Well, I guess it’s better that you found it instead of. . . Tommy or worse.”

You know what worse means. He’s right, he was lucky it had been you.

“I’m just glad you’re not mad.”

“Me, mad at you?” he shakes his head, looking appalled by the thought. “Never.”

“Don’t be so sure.”

His hands drop to your waist. Fingers roughened with work digging into your flesh. The excitement you felt comes rushing back, flooding your veins. Joel pins your hips together, the growing outline of his cock brushing your clothed mound. You gasp and he inches impossibly close, lips brushing your ear. “Why did you have it in your little book over there?” he drawls, his voice thick. “Did you touch yourself lookin’ at it, sweetheart?”

Your voice shakes and you can barely get a word out. You swallow, shaking your head.

“Don’t lie,” he hums. The drag of his lips down your neck turns your insides into mush. “Can I see?”

“See what?”

A moment of silence follows. You take this time to unbutton his jeans and slip a hand underneath the dense fabric. You cup his length, and it hardens in your palm, growing in size. Your breath hitches as his hips move forward, chasing the grip of your fingers. Taking a deep inhale, you breathe him in, filling yourself with his scent.

“I wanna watch,” his voice cracks. “See how you touched yourself while thinkin’ of me.”

Your breath hitches, “And what will you be doing?”

You stroke him slowly, the pad of your thumb moving over the slit before moving down again. You shiver at the feeling of his hot breath against your skin.

“I’ll be watchin’, sweetheart. Engraving your spread-out cunt into memory.”

“Jesus, Joel,” you breathe heavily, your pulse loudly thrumming in your veins. Joel is absolutely filthy—something you never thought you’d be thinking. He tugs you towards the bed. With every step, another garment falls to the floor. You’re shivering all over, body cold yet warm at the same time. The expectation crackling in the air pricks at your skin.

What is this? It never felt like this before. A need so desperate. A want so large. In this moment you’re convinced that you and Joel were always meant to be as pretentious that might sound. You have no idea how else to explain it. Every time you’re with him, even in the most peaceful moments, you feel an impending. . . something. You’re not sure what it is yet but you know it’s a wicked, dark feeling. A dystopian surrealism. The works of Zdzisław Beksiński; death, destruction, shattered worlds. . . yet still beautiful. You love those paintings. Just like Joel, it leaves you uneasy and mystified.

The air is knocked from your lungs as your back hits the bedrest, your naked legs falling open like a butterflys’ wings. You wait for a touch that never comes. Joel drags the chair and takes a seat. He pulls out his hefty length, fingers loosely curling around it. You hold your breath.

“Don’t keep me waitin’ now,” he rasps as he touches himself lazily. “Show me.”

Your eyes never leave him, and you slowly circle your clit with two fingers. An immediate sense of relaxation and soft pleasure blossom over different patches of skin. You pinch the sensitive bundle of nerves and continue moving your fingers around. You arch your hips, wetness growing with every stroke. Your insides clench. Joel’s heavy breathing fills the room, your own breathing coming out in short pants.

“Spread yourself darlin’,” his voice lowers, making your stomach turn. With two fingers you show him, spreading yourself s while you circle the middle one around your clit. A soft whimper of his name echoes from the back of your throat. It’s different like this. Knowing that he’s right there, staring, observing your every move. It lits a fire between your legs. A feeling so raw and open.

Your ache swells inside of you like wildfire. You keen at the slick sounds of Joel’s fist accompanying your own lewd sounds. The rest of the world falls silent, your mind a complete blank, your sole focus on the man that makes you feel soft and tender.

A build-up to an orgasm can be a strange thing. Sometimes you don’t think of anything or anyone, just focused on your fingers and the fire between your legs. Other times your imagination becomes so vivid that you swear there’s a cock splitting you open. Your stomach clenches, muscles rippling under the faux feeling of someone being there with you. And, technically, there is someone with you but not in the typical sense. Your back lifts from the mattress, your feet sliding down the soft sheets as your fingers move frantically. You can feel it hardening, throbbing under your ministrations.

“That’s it,” Joel groans, the bed dips, you’re too far gone to notice he stopped jerking off and is inching closer for a better look. “Come for me, darlin’. Let’s see how you make a mess.”

Your ears ring

Your lips part so wide that the corners are aflame

Your throat constricts a silent plea

Your fingers twitch, insides pulsing as you gush and make a mess—just like he wanted.

You love doing what he asks of you.

You feel it trickling down the inside of your thighs, the curve of your ass. It’s too much. Whimpers rattling your chest, your throat sore. Joel mutters praise, telling you how good you are, how perfect. Another soft lingering orgasm warms you from the inside out, more drops of pure ecstasy spilling over.

He trails his hand up the inside your thigh, slick gathering at the tips of his fingers. A soft gasp leaves your lips as you clench around nothing, “Next time I’m bringin’ the camera over.” you give him a look and he chuckles. “It’s only fair, don’t ya think?”

“I don’t think that picture will be sexy as you think,” you answer, smiling.

He frowns, his look almost glaring as he stares into your eyes, “Bulshit. You’re gorgeous. It’ll be like havin’. . . the . . . Mona Lisa in my pocket,” he says, slightly unsure.

"I do appreciate you using art references whenever you talk to me; it's like a gimmick," you grin and wrap your arms around his neck, tugging him closer. "Hey, if you want a picture, you can have one. Just promise not to leave it lying around like you did with your own. I don't need any more embarrassing moments in my life."

“We all have embarrassing moments.”

“That doesn’t sound like a promise,” you answer with a playful lilt. He rolls his eyes, a hand sneaking down between your bodies, he aligns himself with your sopping sex, cock filling you slowly, inch by inch. Your eyelids flutter, a moan ripping from you.

Fully inside you, he murmurs into your mouth, “I’ll guard it with my life. Promise.”

His words fall on deaf ears. Your vision blurs at the stretch of his cock, drawing his hips back, only the bulbous head remains. He watches you. Watches your fluttering cunt adjust to the size, then, just as you’re about to say something, he slams into you. Electricity crackles over your skin, a sensation that makes you feel numb. Joel buries his head into your neck, kissing and nipping the sensitive skin as he sets a brutal pace. His strokes are slow and hard. Every ridge felt as he massages the insides of your cunt. It’s exhilarating. Breathtaking. So much so that you think you’re crying a little, soft salty tears gathering in your eyes.

“You wanna know something?” he groans, fucking deeper into you. “I thought of you while takin’ the picture. Thought about this perfect cunt.”

He holds your thighs with a heavy hold, pushing both legs up until your knees are grazing your forehead. You don’t think being a pretzel ever felt so good. Joel jackhammers into you, the wet glide of his cock leaves you breathless. Between narrowed eyes you watch him; his brows furrowed with concentration, lips slightly ajar, pink tongue poking out. He’s flushed. The soft tint of red looks good on him. You desperately want to bury your lips into his neck and lick the vein that meanders down, you want to sink your teeth into it.

In a quick glimpse, his eyes briefly catch yours. The muscle in his jaw moves and he licks his lips, the color in his irises gone, eaten away by lust. You notice him pursing his lips and your eyes go wide, a thin line of saliva drips from his mouth, adding to the mess between your thighs. Your breath falters, you squeez him tight. His hips stutter but he’s not phased by the sudden tightness.

“Touch yourself,” he commands, voice hoarse. “I wanna feel you comin’ around my cock.”

You moan at how soaked you are, your fingers playing with the mixture of spit and slick. It doesn’t take you long. A couple swipes of your fingers and you’re seeing stars. Your orgasm sears you from the inside out, your entire body tensing at the force of his thrusts. With a knee-jerk reaction, you grip the back of your thigh, nails biting into your skin. He pushes your hand away, thumb soothingly going over the crescent-shaped marks.

His unwavering gaze aggravates you. A sudden shame rolling in your stomach, he bats the thoughts away by allowing your legs to fall and frame his broad waist. Suddenly his lips are on your own, sucking your tongue into his mouth, swallowing the moans. He tastes your hesitations, your fears, your unsaid love for him—all of it, from a single, hungry, messy kiss.

Joel’s hips slow down into a delicious grind, the coarse hairs that crown his cock doused, you feel the brush of his pelvis on the pearl that beats. Your insides flutter one last time before he’s pulling out, spilling over the soft flesh of your stomach.

“Fuck,” he moans into your open mouth. You shudder at the trickle of seed on your skin. “That was amazin’ sweetheart. You always feel so fuckin’ good. ‘Can’t wrap my head around it.”

You giggle, “I hope you know the feeling is mutual, neighbor,” you feel the wet drag of his lips down your cheek. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this good before.”

“You’re just sayin’ that,” he tuts, breath fanning your neck.

“Do I need to remind you how we ended up in this bed?” you tease. “You, finding a picture of yourself that I masturbated to? If that doesn’t convince you I don’t know what will.”

He thinks about it for a second then shrugs, “Fair.”

“By the way thank you for. . . everything. I had a great time Joel,” you thread your fingers through his mussed hair and he lays his head on your chest. His hand gently cups the underside of your breast, a possessive gesture. You feel the scrape of his beard as he speaks.

“I didn’t do nothin’ special. You deserve more.”

Your heart clenches the ache of his self-deprecation a reflection of his inability to perceive his own worth. “Stop selling yourself short—”

He cuts you off, “You deserve to have a relationship you don’t need to hide. It’s not fair.”

Your heart splinters, torn between the desire to protect what you have and the yearning to be truthful to those that you love. When your silence grows, Joel look up to you, his eyes wide like full moons. And just as somber. Your lips crack in a smile.

“It’s okay,” you whisper. “We’ll tell him eventually. When we’re ready, right?”

He swallows, throat moving. “Yeah,” he answers, gaze breaking away from yours. “We will. When we’re ready.”

Neither of you are brave enough to ask when that might be.

The sun beats down on Tommy’s skin and with the back of his hand, he wipes away the sweat on his forehead. Next to the grill is always the hottest. It’s a beautiful day out, birds chirping, sun shining and whenever a cloud passes by, adding a bit of color to the boring blue sky, Tommy sighs in relief, enjoying the fleeting coolness of the passing shadow.

Joel is at the grill, and from the corner of his eye, Tommy sees him turning the ribs and chicken wings. A loud sizzle fills the air, and with a hiss, Joel backs away, cursing as a searing drop of fat lands on his tanned skin. In typical younger sibling fashion, Tommy laughs, earning an equally heated glare from his older brother. Neither of them says a word. Joel returns his gaze to the meats, while Tommy shifts his eyes back to the large bowl he's holding. It contains a mixture of a generous amount of barbecue sauce, olive oil, Worcestershire sauce, minced garlic, smoked paprika, cayenne pepper, salt, and black pepper. He gives them another vigorous stir before adding the stemless button mushrooms. He tosses them all together until each one is evenly coated.

A bead of sweat rolls down his face, “Joel, I know you have this sense of always wantin’ to be right but I doubt our recipe is gonna be the one to change her mind about mushrooms.”

“It will,” he grunts, shirt dipping and sticking between his shoulder blades. “If she doesn’t, more for us.”

“Well, I guess that’s one way to look at it.”

Joel doesn’t answer and Tommy doesn’t bother to force a conversation. The silence he shares with his brother has always been a comfortable one, but lately, that hasn’t quite been the case. There’s this wall that he can’t seem to breach no matter what he does or says. And ever since Joel broke up with Asha, it only got worse. He can’t shake the sense that whatever his older brother had in mind, it must be about you. It has to be.

Tommy’s feelings for you haven’t exactly disappeared. As much as he wished he had a button to turn it all off, he can’t, but he was telling the truth when he said he didn’t mind staying friends. What he feels for you is more than that. He enjoys your company, your jokes, your thoughts. He can’t imagine living out the rest of his life without it.

However, he's not stupid, contrary to what many people might believe.

Tommy has noticed the stares, the weird tension in his brother’s shoulders whenever you’re around. Hell, if Joel has feelings for you he should just own up to it, talk about it. All Tommy wants is for Joel to come and talk to him. However, when it comes to romance, Joel rarely does. Even after the breakup with Asha, Joel barely said a word. Tommy later on learned the details from Asha and it fucking stung.

Ever since they were little, Joel had this tendency to shoulder everything, it didn’t matter if the issue was big or small, he would carry it, and he would do so in silence. Tommy hated that. He wanted to talk about things, wanted to tell Joel about his nightmares, the blank notebook that Tommy can’t bring himself to write into—he desperately wants things to change. He wants Joel to stop playing the martyr. Tommy’s not a kid anymore, they can carry the weight together.

“Gosh that smells delicious!”

Tommy jerks at the sound of your voice. Startled, he looks up and sees you making your way through Joel’s yard, carrying a Tupperware full of coleslaw and a pitcher of homemade iced tea. You place both items on the wooden table and walk toward the brothers. Just as you pass by Joel, your hand brushes his shoulder. Again, Tommy sees him visibly tense with the contact.

You turn to Tommy, arms spread wide, a joyous grin stretched across your face. Tommy mimics the expression, pulling up a different kind of mask. He pulls you into a tight embrace and presses his lips ointo your forehead.

"Oh, are those the mushrooms?" you ask, still held within Tommy's arms, your gaze lowered to the small table Joel brought out for food prep. "I'm both terrified and excited."

“I hope you’ll like’em,” Tommy answers. “Joel is convinced that you will.”

You laugh and mouth at Tommy, "Do you think he'll explode if he turns out to be wrong?" Tommy can barely hide the snicker that escapes his lips.

“I heard that,” Joel grunts without looking.

You expertly move the conversation along, “Where’s Sarah?”

"She should be here soon," he responds. "She mentioned wanting to buy some lemon bars for the barbecue."

“Where is she buying them from? Olivia is going to come over too so she can pick Sarah up.”

After discussing locations and making a quick phone call, Olivia happily agrees to pick up Sarah because, according to you, she's not that far away anyway. You help Tommy skewer the barbecue mushrooms, and conversation flows seamlessly. Even Joel gradually loosens up, relaxing as he starts to place the prepared skewers. You appear surprisingly cheerful, and Tommy doesn't mean to imply that you were ever a downer—rather, he hasn't seen you this relaxed in a long time. It seems the grief that had molded you months ago, forcing you to behave a certain way, had loosened around you. Now you see what he’s seen all along; that you deserved to make jokes and have fun and be happy.

He likes to think he had a part to play in that with the renovation of the room.

In the midst of finishing up the mushrooms, a car stops, and a moment later, Olivia and Sarah hop out.

Sarah wastes no time wrapping her nimble arms around Tommy's neck, giving him a tight hug. Tommy returns the gesture in kind, lifting her off the ground a little. "Hey, sugarcube! How was school?"

"Boring," she answers, letting go. "How was work?"

Tommy scrunches up his nose, prompting a bubble of laughter from her. "Boring," he parrots.

While Sarah heads inside to change, Olivia places the lemon bars on the table and comes to greet you. The sizzle of the grill fills the air as Sarah's voice cuts through the lively atmosphere, calling out to Joel from the window of the house. "Dad, I can't find my purple shirt!" she exclaims. “You said you’d have it washed today!”

Joel turns his attention away from the grill, a concerned furrow forming on his brow. "I'll be right there, sweetheart," he assures her. He looks over at Olivia. "Liv, can you man the grill for a moment?"

Olivia nods, a playful smile dancing on her lips. "Consider it done. You go find that shirt."

With a grateful nod, Joel moves swiftly toward the house, leaving Olivia to handle the grilling duties. He passes by Tommy and you, giving a brief smile and a nod of acknowledgment before disappearing inside.

Tommy's gaze follows Olivia as she confidently takes charge of the grill, her tongs expertly flipping the remaining skewers and wings. There's a sense of ease in her movements, a natural grace that Tommy finds captivating. Her focused expression softens with a slight smile.

Meanwhile, Tommy takes a moment to observe you as you retrieve a couple of cold beers from the cooler. The sunlight catches in your hair, casting a warm glow around you.

You approach him with the beers in hand, Tommy can't help but be captivated by your infectious smile. It's a smile that reaches your eyes, radiating happiness and a genuine warmth that draws him in. He takes one of the beers from you, his fingers grazing against yours for a brief moment, sending a jolt of electricity through his veins.

"Cheers," you say, raising your bottle in a toast. Tommy mirrors your action, their bottles clinking together, the sound ringing in the air.

"Cheers," he replies, his voice laced with genuine affection. The clinking of the bottles marks a moment of connection, a shared bond that goes beyond mere friendship.

“Isn’t it interesting?” Olivia suddenly says, snapping your attention from Tommy to her. He frowns.

“What is?” you ask.

“That I’m here. . . doing all the work without a beer in my hand.”

You roll your eyes, walking back to the cooler, “You could’ve just asked you know?” you tease, handing her a cold bottle. She shrugs with a wink.

“Where’s the fun in that?”

Tommy smells smoke. The crackling of flames too loud. Their banter fades into the background. His body grows tense by instinct, feeling the threat of danger that isn’t there. He becomes uncharacteristically still, listening, but not hearing anything.

“Ah shit, I burnt it,” Olivia hisses, fanning the smoke with a moisturized hand. “Well, at least I only burned three of them. You guys think Joel will kill me?”

He hears bits of the conversation, your laughter following Olivia’s words. The smoke in the air is thicker now, grayer. Sweat sticks to his skin and Tommy swears he feels the familiar feeling of hot dirt on his skin. Unaware, he starts rubbing his arms, trying to get rid of the sticky feeling.

Tommy smells gunpowder.

He hears bullets whizzing through the air.

Just as the grill suddenly flares up, a searing pain jolts through Tommy's body. In his disoriented state, he misconstrues your touch on his back as a threat. Reacting instinctively, he moves away, his mind clouded. His hand inadvertently catches your wrist, twisting the limb. You let out a shout.

A surge of guilt pierces Tommy's heart as he realizes that it’s you. His eyes widen with a mixture of fear and remorse, and he releases his grip on your wrist, his hands trembling. "Fuck, sorry—" he stammers, choked up. "I. . . I thought. . ."

Before he can finish his sentence, he sees Joel above your shoulder, his face etched with concern, closely followed by Sarah.

"What happened?" Joel demands.

You step in before Tommy can explain, his chest heaves, “Nothing, I just startled him.”

Joel doesn’t seem to buy it, his gaze fixed on his baby brother, he raises an eyebrow. “Tommy?” he asks again, his voice leveled.

Tommy's gaze shifts from you to Joel and Sarah. He struggles to find the right words, his mind still tangled in a web. He doesn’t say a word, just shakes his head. Joel’s gaze softens, hands coming up to cup Tommy’s cheeks. He lifts his brother’s gaze to face his own.

"It's okay, Tommy. We're here. We're safe, you’re home," when Tommy attempts to back away, Joel holds him tighter. "Let's just take a moment to breathe."

Tommy’s mind blanks for a second when Joel visibly takes a deep, slow breath. Joel looks at him with a sign of expectation and the younger Miller mimics the way he breathes. Deep and slow. One, two, three. Once more, and that’s it. He’s breathing again. The sky is blue again.

“Shiiiit,” he exhales on the last breath. Joel drops his hands and takes a step back, you’re standing right next to him, brows drawn together. Suddenly the guilt is back. “I’m sorry,” he says the apology muffled by clenched teeth. “Are you. . . okay?”

“I’m fine,” you say hovering back and forth, wanting to come closer but also not wanting to overwhelm him. “Do you need anything?”

“I should be asking you that,” he takes a step closer, taking your wrist between his fingers. He gently smooths his thumb over where he bent—god, he’s a fucking mess. “We should put some ice on that.”

“I got it!” Olivia jumps out, placing the end of the cold bottle on your wrist. You stifle a snort. She narrows her eyes at you. “That’s a weird way to say thank you.”

You roll your eyes, “Thanks, Liv.”

Tommy pulls away and takes a seat. Content in having calmed his brother, Joel returns to the grill and gives Olivia a look that screams, "What the hell have you done?!"

He smiles, feeling his racing heart finally begin to calm down.

“Are you sure you’re alright uncle Tommy?”

His eyes meet Sarah’s, two concerned and observant juvenile eyes staring into his own. He’s not sure what to say—no, he knows what to say, he just doesn’t know how to say it in a way that she’ll believe him.

Without waiting for a response, Sarah sits next to him and reaches for two glasses and the pitcher. She pours iced tea into both. “Here,” she says, prompting him to replace the beer with the glass. Tommy obliges.

“You don’t need to worry about me,” he murmurs. “That ain’t your responsibility.”

“It’s not. . . but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t worry. And I know you can’t talk to me about it, I’m not dad, but you know I love you, right?”

“‘Course I do,” Tommy answers quickly, ignoring the way the sun stings his eyes, he forces them to stay open. “Your dad takes good care of me. And I know you care, I appreciate the reminder though,” he lets out a sigh, drags a heavy palm down his face, and swallows. “I’m gonna get better.” I have to get better.

Sarah doesn’t say another word. She slowly drops her head to his shoulder, looks over to her father who’s in the middle of placing three mushroom skewers on your plate. Tommy smiles.

“They’re idiots,” she murmurs, he doesn’t miss the affectionate cadence in her tone.

“Yeah,” Tommy answers. “But they’re our idiots.”

The rest of the evening went off without a hitch. However, your love for mushrooms still remained nonexistent, much to Joel's surprise. He was shocked to see that his and Tommy's barbecue mushrooms hadn't managed to convert you into an avid mushroom lover. In an attempt to mask the lingering taste, you nearly downed the entire pitcher of iced tea—making sure Joel wasn't looking, of course. He was still quite salty about not liking them. He even went far as to pout about it, which you found adorable if you’re being completely honest. You're not sure his ego could handle the thought of you desperately wanting to scrub your tongue with a sponge.

Olivia was the first one to leave as the scorching sun was replaced by shiny stars, and you helped with cleaning up. You noticed that Tommy was avoiding your gaze like the plague, and Joel remained silent about what had happened. Your wrist, although not physically hurting, still ached. You had promised him that you would be there for him, but you felt like you had failed miserably. You had no knowledge of what was going on in his head, and if today was any indication, there was a lot happening.

When he’s about to bid his farewells, you touch his forearm. It’s such a small gesture but he flinches anyway and you quickly withdraw your hand. You chew the inside of your cheek.

“Do you want to come over?” you ask, swallowing. “I have some leftover wine.”

It doesn’t take him long to answer but the seconds that pass feel like an eternity. He nods and gestures to the door.

“I’ll be waitin’ outside, go get your things.”

“Y-Yeah, sure. I’ll be there in a sec.”

He closes the door softly behind him. A click that is barely audible. You hear footsteps and turn to see Joel exiting the kitchen. “Everythin’ good?” he asks.

“I think so, I invited Tommy over. I think it’ll be good to talk.”

You see it in his eyes, the need to hold you, to cradle your cheeks and brush your lips together. The internal fight is visible from his expression. You figure which side wins when he remains still, staring, eyes flitting between you and the windows near the door. Tommy’s smoking a cigarette with his back turned.

“I think so too,” he says, dropping his gaze to the floor. “He’s been more closed off lately and my usual grumpy self probably ain’t helpin’.”

“I applaud you for admitting that you are, in fact, grumpy.”

He tries to hide it but can’t, a small smile peeking from under his mustache. “Shut up.”

“I really wanna say make me,” you grin and pick up your bag. “But I don’t think we have time for that.”

“I’ll remember, don’t worry.”

You ignore the way your legs press together at the sudden drop in his tone. The chill of the doorknob sends shivers down your spine. You’re afraid of being alone with Tommy. You’re scared that you’re going to blurt everything, all of it. You miss being able to talk to him—Tommy definitely wasn’t a stranger to the rants about the many failed romances in your life. With a sigh, you crack the door open. You hear a shift behind you. . . then a gentle hand on your waist.

A kiss on the back of your neck.

“Call me if you need anythin’.”

“I will.”

You finally step into the warm night. Tommy turns to you, exhaling smoke from his nostrils. The knot in your throat makes it hard to breathe, the younger Miller looks over your shoulder.

“See ya later old timer,” he calls out to Joel. You don’t hear him answer but you’re sure he’s rolling his eyes, the click of the door follows. Cigarette loose between his lips, Tommy offers you his arm and you take it.

The walk to your home is a silent one.

Your house is ominous in the dark, quickly, you flick the lights open. “Make yourself comfortable.”

“I always do,” he murmurs and takes off his shoes. “Would it be alright if we skip the wine? I’m not really feelin’ up for it.”

“Of course,” you answer. “Do you want anything else?”

“Nah. Let’s just talk.”

The request takes you by surprise. You blink dumbly at the back of his head, and when the silence fills the space between you, he turns. He stares at you for a moment, gauging what your reaction means. His brows come together, a humorful smile tugging at one corner of his lips.

“Why do you look so shocked? That’s why you invited me over right? To talk.”

“I. . . Yeah, exactly.”

He heads to the living room and you follow his trail like a lost duckling. “Before you say anythin’,” he says, lifting a hand as you take a seat next to him. “Let me apologize. I didn’t mean. . . I would never hurt you. Today was an accident, I got lost.”

Lost. . . that was exactly what it was, wasn’t it?

“It’s okay, it was my mistake really. I shouldn’t have touched you when you were so out of it. Can I. . . Can I ask what you were thinking about?”

His shoulders raise, his breathing becomes shallow, “I think it was because of the smoke. I was right there, at the battlefield, again. Fuck. I didn’t know.”

You wait for him to continue.

“There ain’t much out there you know? Just you and a couple of brothers you made along the way. When you see them fall, it’s hard to erase the memory of it.”

“No one is expecting you to erase it,” you whisper, your hand hovers above his knee and when he nods, you place itover the curve. “As hard as it is, that’s a part of you. No one blames you for today. No one is mad at you. We just want you to be okay—I want you to be okay.”

“I know,” he murmurs. “I’m workin’ on it. I just hate talkin’ about it so much. I tried. . .I tried to be the hero you know? I tried so hard to make a difference. It didn’t mean nothin’ and when you realize the person you’re gunnin’ down is just as lost as you are, you realize there are no heroes in the battlefield.” a sudden chuckle bursts from his lips, compeltly void, he covers his face with a palm. “But I’m still so stupid. I still want to believe some difference can be made. I want to be good so fuckin’ bad and I don’t know why. I should be happy just doin’ my own thing like Joel but I’m not.”

His words sink into your skin, blend with the blood in your veins, and suffocate your lungs. You want to cry. He sounds so broken, so hopeless. The need to hold him makes your knees tremble. You imagine an eighteen-year-old Tommy, signing up with the army with a hopeful gaze. You’ve heard the stories, remember Joel telling you the arguments that followed after that. Tommy hadn’t backed down, adamant about proving his brother wrong. The stubborn nature of it reminds you of your own brother, the endless arguments that would go on and on and on with your grandfather.

The army takes their hopes and dreams and spits them out broken and strange.

“You’re not stupid, Tommy,” you mutter, barely audible. “We all want to be good. There’s no shame in that. I’m. . .similar, I always want to do the right thing. I want to be good too. Don’t compare yourself to Joel he. . . he got lucky with Sarah. As long as she’s happy and safe he doesn’t care about right and wrong. We on the other hand, we’re still trying to find ourselves. It’s not as easy for us to make that distinction. We think endlessly about the ones who get caught in the crossfire.”

God, but you aren’t doing the right thing. It’s easy to forget that with Joel’s lips on your skin—sure, maybe you’re not straight-up lying to him, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re being dishonest.

He looks at you with those puppy dog eyes. So round and wide. “People like you can’t try to be good,” he answers, confusing you. He waits, allowing the silence to follow as he thinks of his words. “You’re already good. You don’t need to try to be.”

The confession bubbles up from your chest to your throat. You taste it. Sweet like sugar and deadly like poison. You have to tell him. You need to tell him.

You lick your lips, your mouth dry like sandpaper. He’s staring directly into your soul, he sees something hopeful. Something good. You want to shake him, tell him that he’s the good one. He doesn’t blink. Not once. You open your mouth. You’re going to do it, you’re going to tell him and whatever happens next, however he reacts, it’s what you deserve.

Normally, Tommy’s eyes are a shade lighter compared to his older brother’s. While Joel’s eyes walk the line of being downright black, Tommy’s always reminds you of your favorite brand of chocolate.

But right now it’s dark as night. Just like Joel’s.

“Hey,” he finally blinks, smiling. The confession that had bubbled to the surface slowly simmers down. “We should get some sleep.”

“But—”

“I appreciate you talkin’ to me sweetheart. I. . . feel better, in a weird way,” he comes closer, kisses your cheek. His lips are damp. “I’ll be sure to talk to you more in the future, a’right? Promise.”

“Okay,” you mumble. You both get up from the couch and saunter upstairs, the air that surrounds you lighter. He takes the guest bedroom, the room where August slept the week before.

Tommy stills at the door, “Well, goodnight.”

You can’t leave it at this, you just can’t.

“Tommy, I need to tell you something.” your words are sharp and clear. His hand tightens around the doorknob, what does he think you’re about to say?

“Yeah?”

You can’t do it. Coward.

“Do you need. . . another pillow?”

“Um,” he opens the door, takes a look. “No, I’m good. Is that all you were gonna say?”

“It is.”

It isn’t.

I'm sorry that this took me insanely long for some reason???? Honestly, I blame the fact that I'm not used to writing family dynamics, it's hard. 😭😭😭 but nonetheless I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter, let me know what you guys thought 💜

I did make a post about it but I'll be taking a small break from SIB, I will return to it and will be working on it in the background but I really need to let my mind loose. The next two chapters are already outlined so y'all won't be waiting for that long! This isn't one of those series where the rest of the plot is lost in time and space and I'm too chicken to work on it lmaodfvd

Thank you so much for all the support!!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #tommy miller x you #tommy miller x reader #tlou fanfiction #tlou fanfic #the last of us fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #hbo the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal characters

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hrts4hanniehae · 4 months

Text

clutch || eight

there are written parts :)

note that the timeline or educations may not add up but just ignore it because i don't have the brain power to sync up THIRTEEN + 1 's education schedules

sorry for the late chpt. I was really sick so i tried my best on this chpt. next chpt will be longer, i promise.

warnings: some level of chae-young attempting infidelity, swearing

wonwoo came home to find yn passed out on the couch.

"you okay?" - wonwoo

"i need sleep. i've been stuck at school finishing my final project and i just finished. now i have to worry about the stupid reunion in two days. i have no dress and i look like a zombie. life is great." - yn

"go take a shower. i'll get the guys to help you. jeonghan has connections." - wonwoo

the word shock wasn't enough to describe the look on everyone's faces when yn and wonwoo walked in through the door.

some background information: in the one week before this gathering, yn had completed her pieces for the museum, her final project for university and all her outstanding commissions. her exhibit had been very successful and she had earned quite a significant amount of money.

"yn. is that your boyfriend?" - aunt

"yes. this is jeon wonwoo, my boyfriend." - yn

"nice to meet you, my name is jeon wonwoo." - wonwoo

"yn-noona... isn't that the streamer gameboi? you're dating Korea's number 1 [game name] player?" - younger cousin

"no way..."

the whispers in the event room got louder and louder until the people she hated finally came towards her. it was evident that chae-young was gawking at wonwoo. she didn't even bother to hide her lovestruck expression from her husband.

"so this is the new guy you have, huh yn." - mother

"good morning, i'm jeon wonwoo." - wonwoo

it seemed like he had to repeat himself often today.

"what's your net worth?" a disrespectful question right off the bat was expected and both yn and wonwoo had prepared for it.

without missing a beat, wonwoo simply smiled and said, "14 million. I am sure that I have enough to take care of yn for the rest of our lives."

the jealousy that clouded chae-young's face was the best thing that yn had ever seen.

sitting at the table was very awkward because they were surrounded by whispers and glances.

“so wonwoo. what do you work as?” chae-young’s husband was actually a very nice man. he was always kind to yn and her brother and was the complete opposite of his distasteful wife.

“i’m a gamer. i’m currently in talks of joining [fictional korea no.1 pro gamer team]. that deal closes before june,” - wonwoo

“ah i see. what about you, yn? what are you working as now?” this question was on everyone’s mind. some with ulterior motives.

“up until thursday, i was a museum part-timer and finishing university. but i recently managed to sell many of my art pieces and have made quite a name for myself in the past three days. in case you all didn’t know, almost every artwork in this building was made by me over the last 4 years.” - yn

the room was silent. you could hear a pin drop and wonwoo couldn’t help but smile to himself.

let’s walk through the real train of events.

after the “fake-dating” agreement, wonwoo, minghao, mingyu and dokyeom had helped yn move every piece of her artworks over the years to minghao’s studio to sort through them. it took them almost 30 hours to categorise. by monday, they had organised the auction within the museum, an exhibition for her other works and an online bidding website for exclusive works. from tuesday to thursday, the auctions and exhibitions opened.

every one of yn’s artworks sold for incredibly high prices. this particular hotel that the family reunion was, had purchased a significant amount of said artworks.

“you mean you painted that painting of a phoenix?” - uncle

“i did that 2 years ago.” - yn

“and that ceramic heart? that was you?” - aunt

“yes.” - yn

wonwoo could not help but smile at yn’s nonchalent bragging. just then, a hand reached across to tap his.

“so~ wonwoo-oppa~ how did you and yn meet?" chae-young began to blatantly flirt with wonwoo while her HUSBAND sat helplessly beside her.

“i commissioned an art piece from her and fell in love at first sight.” wonwoo forcefully took back his hand before leaning closer to yn, earning a scowl from chae-young.

yn was’t exaggerating when she described all of chae-young’s antics.

here’s a list of the things she tried but failed to do. seduce wonwoo, yn’s “boyfriend”, spill water on yn, pretend that yn stepped on her foot on purpose, claim yn slapped her.

how embarrassing.

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

synopsis: wonwoo is a popular streamer known for his incredible gaming skills and good looks. He turned heads. but he hates the attention. he just wants to play games and earn money. one day he receives a letter. his apartment’s rent has almost doubled. no warnings at all. his current paycheck from streaming can’t shoulder those bills. he has no choice but to rent out his spare room. to who? a fresh art university graduate who has… 1. a stable job ✅ 2. talent for art and sculpting ✅ 3. many friends ❌ 4. social anxiety ✅ 5. no filter ✅ when his iconic cat logo gets copystriked, she comes to the rescue with a new logo for him. when his apartment’s walls start peeling, she fixes it. whatever he used to struggle with… the empty space... was now filled by her. so what does he *last player standing* do when her ex *enemy spotted* tries to take her back? heh. *clutch* he clutches.

inspired by wonwoo's gam3bo1 streams, falling into your smile & gogo squid (has hints of valorant)

pairing: streamer!jeon wonwoo x fem!artist!reader (ft. jeongcheol, soonhoon, junhao, seoksoo, verkwan)

genre: fluff, comfort, slowburn, comfort, pining, bestfriend!minghao

warnings: stalker ex, toxic ex, mentions of abuse, guns (game), cursing, hate comments, panic attacks

started: 28.12.23

ended: ?

taglist: join from my masterlist

main masterlist

smau socials

previous I next

tags! @fairyofhour @megseungmin @sun-daddy-yoriichi @woozixo @euphoric-univers @christinewithluv @haowonbins @ocyeanicc @asyre @cynthiaaax13 @superhoshisvt @bangantokchy @chimmy-bts @angelarin @daisawa @writingbarnes @jeonghansshitester

@belladaises @wonwootakemyheart @wonwooz1 @luchiet @kookssecret @caratsland @peachescreamandcrumble @thepoopdokyeomtouched @isabellah29 @leah-rose03 @yandere-stories @coupshour @heesbees @hamji-hae @hyuckxtagram

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captain-mj · 5 months

Note

Hiiiiiii I was wondering if we could get some more of that fic where ghost and soap switch traumatic back stories ? The story has been playing on my mind for ages and I would really like to see more! (:

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Jumps straight into Soap drawing a naked Ghost. You've been warned.

Simon stripped slowly in front of him before sitting on Soap's bed.

Johnny swallowed. He was still fully clothed, but it felt weird. Slowly, he peeled off his gloves and grabbed his art supplies. "Sit naturally. No need for ya to pose."

Ghost sat back, in just his boxers. He adjusted until he felt comfortable. "Could you live out my scars? I know they're probably not the most attractive."

Soap felt his heart squeeze. He'd never undress in front of Ghost. That was decided immediately.

"Alright. Any other adjustments? Want me to make you skinnier and your tits bigger?"

Ghost smiled at him. "I love how witty you are."

Soap quickly looked at his paper. He started to sketch the proportions and basic shapes of him. His eyes kept glancing up to scan over him and then guide his hand where it needed to go.

Slowly, he found himself lost in the artwork. It wasn't as realistic as he used to be able to do. Something a little off in the proportions. Time passed by and his alarm went off, indicating it was now 7 am sharp. He blinked, realizing they had stayed there for about two hours.

Ghost's eyes had slid shut and there was something restful about him. However, the moment the pencil stopped scratching at the paper, his eyes opened again. He looked at Soap with a smile. Dimples showing. "Can I see?"

"No." Soap closed his notebook. "Get dressed. You're on duty now."

"Yes, sir." Ghost got up and got dressed. "If you want to do this again though, I'd love to." He walked out of Soap's room and directly into Gaz.

Gaz stared at him and Ghost went from the confident, sweet guy he was around Soap to the regular Sergeant he was around Gaz. Soap wondered at times on which one was the real Simon. Maybe neither were. He didn't like that idea, deciding that the Simon he got behind closed doors was the real one.

Ghost turned bright red. "Sergeant Garrick!" He almost saluted before quickly putting his hand behind down.

Gaz look at Soap. "You fucked him??"

Soap stomped past them both. "Enough, Gaz. I'm going to go eat."

Soap knew exactly what Price wanted to talk to him about. He just didn't want to talk to him.

Price looked concerned. "What made you change your mind?"

"There was no fraternization, sir."

"Really? He was leaving your room with his shirt inside out."

"I was drawing him." Price paused and stared at him, a clear indication for him to continue. "I was... drawing Ghost. We were hanging out, like we do most mornings, completely platonically, and I got the urge to draw. He posed. That's all."

Price softened. "Alright."

"What? That easy?"

"Yeah. I just wanted to check in. I'm glad you two are friends. You deserve someone simple, just nice to you."

Soap nodded, tugging at his mask. He wanted to tell Price he was wrong. Ghost was a lot more complicated than he let on.

Price smiled. "MacTavish. We have a sniper mission. You and Ghost will be going."

Soap nodded. "Understood, sir."

Price dismissed him and Soap gathered Ghost up. Ghost was the sniper and he was lookout.

Simon turned off the moment he was on scope, eyes sharpening to look for everything. He stayed laying down.

Johnny wanted to draw him again.

"We going to talk about it?"

"What?"

"We kissed."

Soap grunted. "So?"

"Did it mean anything?"

"What are we? School girls?"

Simon looked at him for a moment, frowning. He looked a bit hurt but he turned back to his gun. "Sorry, sir."

Johnny watched him. "Dating me... it isn't a good idea for you."

"I know."

Johnny winced, almost instinctively snapping at him before realizing just how hypocritical it could be. "If you met me before..."

"Don't." Simon said softly. "Just... please. I can handle rejection. I can tell myself you just don't see me that way. That becomes a lot harder when if you tell me maybe another life. Another time. Please, just... reject me and move on."

Johnny wanted to take off his mask. Wanted to kiss Simon again. Feel those plush lips.

As if his mind knew happiness was in his grasp, he remembered the last time he trusted someone. The last time someone kissed him. Skull makeup staring at him.

It was for the best. He didn't want to taint Simon.

A bang.

One bullet.

Simon sat up, taking apart his sniper rifle. "Target down, sir. Mission complete."

"Good job, Sergeant."

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #call of duty modern warfare ii #cod mw2 #ghostsoap #cod #soapghost #ghoap

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mygwenchan · 4 months

Text

Teena through Zouey's eyes - Famous artworks and movies in Playboyy the Series - Part 3

It's the seventh episode of Playboyy and our two cuties are back together, which also means: Zouey is painting Teena again :D

Zouey continues to use famous pieces of art as his inspiration and this time we've got a bit of a theme going on: Gay Renaissance artists from la bella Italia!

The first reference can be a little bit hard to spot, unless you're explicitly looking for it (and you're still able to concentrate while our two boys are going at it lol). It's none other than Leonardo da Vinci's Vitruvian Man!

Ep7 intro scene with different couples - Leanoardo da Vinci, Vitruvian Man

Teena is laying on the ground, arms and legs spread out, just like his Renaissance counterpart. It's interesting to note that da Vinci's drawing shows a man according to the idealized proportions formulated by the ancient architect and engineer Vitruvius. So again we have Teena as a representation of the ideal male body, as I've already mentioned in part 2.

The next scene with them shows Teena and Zouey during a date and I love the fact that Zouey himself tells us which artwork he's trying to recreate: Michelangelo's David!

And indeed we can see Teena posing as the famous statue.

Ep7 Teena and Zouey during a date in the park - Michelangelo Buonarroti, statue of David

Bonus: Cute pouty Teena, cause Zouey is teasing him 🤗

The last scene features three of Teena's portraits in the background: Teena as "The creation of Adam", Teena as "The Thinker" and you can also see Zouey's drawing of the Vitruvian Man.

The conversation between Teena and Zouey pretty much confirms my impression that in the beginning both boys have seen an ideal in each other. And now, after they've weathered the first storms in their relationship, both can also accept each others flaws ("You are not perfect like my dream, but I still like you"). Zouey still loves to call Teena his muse though, because well, once a boy is a simp for the Greek ideal, he'll be a simp for life 👌

On a side note: You can also see other paintings in the background of this scene. I might have actually found the artist of the bird painting! At least it looks really close to this painting of a white peacock. In any case, I think the background paintings are real, but they're just meant as decoration :)

[Part 1] [Part 2]

#playboyy #playboyy the series #playboyy ep7 #gwen's watchlist #meta #playboyy meta

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mazeinthemiroh · 2 years

Note

Hello!

my first request here, i love your straykids reacts <\3 i would like to ask a react from the straykids boys with their yn crush and idol also being on the same program as them 🤕

stray kids reaction to their s/o being an idol

genre: fluff

word count: 0.8k

warnings: none

pls like and reblog if you enjoy! feel free to request anything <3

bangchan

chan finds it easier to relate to you because you are an idol. he's been in this industry for most of his life, and he's had to fight through a lot to get to where he is today. so he likes having a partner who understands the struggles he has been through. chan is so supportive of your idol journey just as you are of his.

when you perform on stage, he looks at you like he looks at the other members; he's so proud of you. he also loves to have you as a special guest in channie's room because you guys vibe so well together and the fans love seeing chan interacting with other idols, whether they know you're dating or not.

lee know

any excuse he gets, he just wants to dance or perform with you. he's always learning your/your group's choreography. like he just has to learn it. when you are on the stage performing he is dancing to the choreography from his seated area while the other members join in the fun too.

he loves having the opportunity to be a co-MC with you. presenting award shows usually means a lot of interactions between you both, and lee know likes finding little jokes and bits to do with you. because you mesh so well together, it's so easy to see your chemistry regardless of what you're doing.

changbin

of course, you are in his close circle of friends before he started dating you, and now the rest is history. you're friends with his idol friends and you all get along really well. they always thought you had a special connection with changbin, and they were right!

he also sees it as an opportunity to collaborate with you in some way, whatever role you may have in the group. he likes to get to know your creative process and wants to get to know your talents on a more up-close level. and when the collaboration is finally released he's super happy and has a new-found appreciation of you.

hyunjin

you are his inspiration. the love songs he writes? about you. the artworks he draws? they're all of you. he can't help but be moved by your music, and be in absolute awe by your beauty. he would have never thought you'd become such a big part of his life. and now you're dating him!

hyunjin can be quite shy when it comes to verbal affection but he always makes a special effort to compliment you and how well you have done in your recent comeback. he recognises your constant hard work and persistence to improve yourself.

han

the members groan every time they hear han belt out one of your songs every two seconds. he's like a major fanboy of yours, it's not even funny. he takes the 'supportive boyfriend' role to a whole other level. he buys your merch, streams your music, and goes to your concerts. you laugh at how over-the-top he is.

so we can gather he's not exactly subtle when supporting you. he stands up, dances and sings along when you're performing on stage at an award show. the fans even hear him shouting your fan chants and of course, the camera almost always pans to him when this happens.

felix

will binge-watch all your content/variety shows. with the little free time he has he figures what better way to use this time to catch up on your content! obsesses over your fancams and he will always tell stay to stream your new song every chance he can get.

and you best believe that his whole fyp is literally of you, which you find adorable. fans realise you both are dating or that he at least has a massive crush on you when he reveals his home-screen of you on a live, completely forgetting that it was a picture of you 🤦

seungmin

on the inside, he's like... on his KNEES begging you to do a duet with him because he's obsessed with your voice. of course, this is seungmin though. he might not dramatically gush over you like hannie would, but you can tell by the way he keeps dropping hints that he really wants to perform with you.

"ah your voice is really good in this track" or "our vibes would totally complement each other if we were to perform together." all these hints just encourage you to come up with the idea of performing with him because he's too damn shy to ask you himself, bless him <//3

jeongin

thinks you're super cool. he's more of a quiet supporter compared to some of the other members. he likes the fact that your schedule is quite similar to his; that way, he can meet up with you during his lunch breaks or even pop over to practice some choreography with you.

otherwise, i don't think being an idol with have much impact on the way he treats you. i think the real truth comes out about his feelings when you perform for the first time at an award show. just the way his eyes are fixated on you and he looks so utterly and hopelessly in love with you... yeah.

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melodygatesauthor · 11 months

Text

Weekly Update - 06/18/2023

As a reminder, I do weekly updates. You can see the original post here for details on what will be in these!

Updates Below the Cut:

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Long/Chaptered Fic Updates

A Bit Dodgy - There WILL be an update tomorrow! 06/19/2023. We have chapter 13 incoming! (Will be out later in the day than usual because I haven't had time to edit. Sorry!)

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Mini-series Updates

Blue = should be posted this week

Pink = In progress actively (working on but will not be posted this week)

Red = Backburner Fic (not working on this week - will work on a later date)

The Fractured Moon - currently working on These Fractured Knights (TFM Bonus Chapters) 🫣😏 - No new updates this week though.

Feeling You Can't Fight is DEFINITELY coming out this week on Wednesday! (I know I said that last week but this week I mean it!) I was hoping to post it last week but I didn’t get around to editing it! My goal will be to put out a chapter a week for the next 6 weeks for this one (fingers crossed - will post more often if I finish the chapters sooner than that) but we will see!

Summary

You are the new staff manager for the National Art Gallery in London, replacing the prior manager who you'd heard was unpleasant to work for...and that was putting it kindly.

When you meet the nervous, but friendly, gift shop clerk, you can't help but fall for him almost immediately. When it becomes clear that you can't shake this desire to give Steven everything he deserves and more, you can only hope that he feels the same way about you in return.

It WILL include the other two boys as well. - Coming this week

Working on a secret series based on a series of artwork done by an artist in the community. Hoping to have that out this week! - Coming out the week of 06/25/2023 I hope!

Not a Doctor - I’ve been asked by a few people, and I personally have been considering it for a while, doing a part 2 to this fic! It won’t be coming out this week, but it’s in the works! (Still in the planning stages)

Worth the Risk - taking a small step back from this for now. It’s not at the top of my inspiration list so I’m moving it down the line temporarily. - will work on a later date

The Good Doctors - idea by @burnincrown - Dr. Marc Spector - It's going to be a long time in the works, and it will probably replace TFM when that one is done. In development - Work on it a different week

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Requests Updates

As a reminder, once these requests are finished, my requests will be closed for good. You can see the post explaining that here. Thank you again for the support and understanding!

If your request is in blue, that means I'm going to try to work on it this week (06/18-06/25). If it's in pink, I'm going to try to work on it a different week. It's taking me a while to get into the headspace for some of them so thank you for your patience. Green means it's scheduled for release!

Moon Boys X f!Reader by @simpforbritgents

Asking for something like Feeling Flustered where the moon boys are doing guided phone sex.

Moon Boys X f!Reader by @mercuryrosesixx

Moon Boys w/ a f!Reader w/ nipple piercings. - Release Date: 06/20/2023

Marc Spector X f!Reader by @blueflowerhat

Marc shower sex based on AI prompt.

Nathan Bateman X f!Reader by @campingwiththecharmings

This is the prompt that hit me like a Nathan-shaped mac truck! -> “if you don’t like my teasing why are you moaning”

Nathan Bateman X f!Reader by Anon

Cam girl reader x Nathan - Nathan turns to a cam girl, he's been kinda stalking her. (Excited hehe)

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That's all for now guys! I love you all and thank you so much for all the support you continue to give no matter what. You're amazing <3

#melody gates weekly updates

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mrsaguapapi · 1 year

Text

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3

Chapter 4

Sexual Healing

It's 1:30 pm, 7:30 pm in London, I'm almost ready for my 'date' with my 3-in-1 special. Tonight I wanted to wear something breathtakingly sexy; something that screams fuck me in the car because you can't wait til we're home.

That dream earlier honestly got me so riled up I almost took care of it in the shower but thought I'd save up this pent-up energy for the boys later. I'm wearing a backless mini dress with long flowy sleeves and a low-cut front, as well as a pair of silver heels.

When I say mini, I mean it's well above the knee and the top barely conceals my breasts. This is also the kind of dress where you can't really wear a bra so underneath I'm only wearing a thong. The dress is a thin material covered in iridescent sequins that contrasted well with my dark skin and platinum braids.

Reference:

Artwork By Me

While finishing the last touches of my make up I decided I should probably call Shuri to fill her in on the 'Sexy Fish Man' Situation.

"Hello, my witchy friend how are you?"

"Hey, sis! I'm great getting ready for a night out. I actually wanted to talk about something though."

"What's up?" She replies

"So long story short some voices told me to go to a beach in Yucatan and I met your pointy-eared fish friend and I may have invited him to your ceremony. Before you respond, it is only because he may know some info on my past plus as an academic, I would love to pick his brain."

That came out way too fast.

"What pointy-eared fish man, I have no idea who you're talking about" she laughs uncomfortably

"You are a TERRIBLE liar. His name is Namor, ring any bells?"

"How? How could you possibly know him? I just met him myself. You know he was a major pain in my ass I almost killed that man. "

"It's a very long story I will fill you in when I see you but I mostly wanted to give you a heads up. You also have to bring me up to speed on the attempted murder part."

"It'll probably be good for him to be there, gotta keep the peace and all now that I am the 'Queen Panther'" She laughs "Besides this makes me feel better about having to invite the 'White Wolf'"

"Oh god, Bucky is coming?"

"I know yall have a past but he's practically a Wakandan and he was close to my brother. I know it will be awkward but can you do it for me?"

Sighing I say, "Of course, Just don't expect me to do it sober for it"

Shuri laughs "I'm eternally grateful"

"Yea Yea Yea" I laugh. I look at the time, it's 7:50 pm. "Okay, hun I gotta go before I'm late."

"Alrighty have fun on your night out." we exchange goodbyes and hang up.

Okay, do I have everything?

I didn't bother packing a bag other than my purse full of essentials, specifically my birth control; Whatever else I need I'll just borrow from the boys. I did go ahead and pack a bag for Wakanda that I'll just grab it when I pick up Peter. I grab my sling ring and head to the kitchen to leave a note for Peter.

To my Spider Bro-

I know you said you'll be good for dinner but I went ahead and prepped a lasagna for you in the fridge; all you have to do is pop it in the oven for 45 min. Be safe, Have a good night, and stay out of my weed stash. Love you!

I pin the note to our fridge and text the boys.

On my way, meet you at the ROXY in 5. *kissy face*

And with that, I open a portal and make my way to the Night Club.

------

Tonight is pretty packed. I managed to find 2 seats at the bar and saved one for the boys with my purse. They texted a few minutes ago saying they'd be here in a sec. So I go ahead and order them a Rum and Coke while I sipped on some Crown Apple and waited. The music was so loud I could barely think; everyone was talking and dancing, and I couldn't wait to join. It was dimly lit but the little light we had was shining on my dress; kinda made me feel like a disco ball.

Lost in thought I barely noticed the bartender approach me and hand me a drink.

"From the guy at the end of the bar," he says and walks away.

I look over and it's an older man holding up his drink. I politely wave back in thanks and look away praying that would be the end of it. Unfortunately, it was not, he begins to walk toward me.

He stands very close to me and says, "You look very beautiful tonight" he slyly smiles

"Thank you" I reply

He touches my shoulder and swipes some of my hair out of the way, "I've always found black women so sexy"

I shrug away from his touch in disgust, "Okay creep, don't fucking touch me. Just because you buy me a drink doesn't give you a pass to touch me. Also, stop fetishizing black women." I practically hiss.

"Another fucking cock tease I see. "

"Fuck you" I throw the rest of my drink in his face, "How's that for a cock tease?" I laugh

"Fucking bitch!" he raises his hand to hit me. I don't flinch, he will 100% break his hand once he makes contact. He didn't make it that far fortunately for him, my Mr. Knight catches his hand.

"You wanna try that again pal?" It was them and from the voice, it was Marc speaking. He begins to squeeze his hand, this close to breaking it.

The man screams out in pain, "Sorry lady! Won't happen again I swear" he replies half crying.

Marc looks at me for approval to let him go and I nod at him. Marc releases him and the man practically runs away from us.

I look at Marc "Thank you love, but I could have handled it"

"Oh that wasn't for you, I saved that poor man from breaking his hand. You monster." I laugh in pure amusement.

Marc looks so good tonight. He's wearing a simple long sleeve olive green sweater and a pair of black dress pants. His dark curly hair fell so nicely into place and his facial hair was shaved but you could see a little stubble coming out.

Holding my hand out I gesture for him to come closer, "Come here and give me a proper hello" I seductively say.

Marc makes his advance toward me and stands so close to me that I could feel the warmth coming from his body. He holds the side of my face and whispers a little hello before he closes in and kisses me. We started slow and modest; he eventually places his large hand on my lower back and begins to massage it up and down occasionally gripping my ass.

He pulls away for a sec and begins to speak "You look stunning as ever. I don't know how long we will last before we take you home. Hell, I may bend you over this bar and take you here."

"Believe it or not I do have a good reputation that I'd like to keep, you menace" I hand him his drink "Chug this so we can dance" I smile.

He obliges rather quickly. Once done he slams the glass down on the bar and pulls me behind him. "I'm not much of a dancer. So Steven is going to swap in, okay?"

I shake my head in excitement. Steven may be a sweet awkward bean most of the time, but on the dancefloor, he is a savant. Quite literally a panty dropper.

"Heya Millie! My word you look unreal" It may be dark but I can't tell he's blushing.

He's the sweetest I swear

We make it to the dance floor; he wraps one arm around my waist, and with the other, he takes my hand and begins to lead our dance. He has his leg between mine as we begin to slowly sway our hips. The little friction from this is already driving me wild; I can feel my little heartbeat slowly grow from down below.

"Steven who taught you to slow wind like this?"

"No one, I just watched a lot of Magic Mike. You know, for research"

I laugh "HA Research; well your studies did you some good."

He suddenly dips me and places a hand on my ass. Slowly he moves his hand up to my waist, then to the side of my breast, and lightly squeezes. Steven abruptly pulls me back to him and whispers in my ear.

The Vibe:

Make It Rain

"I can't wait to peel you out of this little dress of yours." He then pulls me so close to him that I can feel his hard-on through his pants. Just that little contact made me melt.

"We should go" I whisper in his ear.

Steven says nothing but smiles. He pays my tab and we hurriedly make our way outside and begin to walk to the nearest alleyway, so I can make a portal to his place. I take my sling ring out and open one, but before I could walk through, I was interrupted by Steven forcibly pushing me back to a wall. He began to roughly kiss me; it was so intense I could barely breathe but I definitely don't want to stop.

"Millaenyia you look so sexy tonight. I can't wait til we bury ourselves so deep inside you." Never mind, not Steven, this was definitely Jake, he's always been a little rough. The other 2 sometimes worry it's too much but I've always liked to be dominated like this. He takes my hand and puts it on his dick. They were hard as a rock, "See what you do to us?" He then practically tosses me through the portal and follows behind me; fortunately, I land on his bed. I stand and close the portal and toss my sling ring and purse to the floor.

We stand and look at each other for a minute, just taking in the scene. Eventually, I make the first move; This time it's my turn to shove him into the wall. I grab his face to savagely kiss him as I begin to successfully take his shirt off. Frustrated that he couldn't find the zipper on my dress he began to literally tear it off me. He wraps my legs around him and picks me up.

"I hope that wasn't expensive."

"It's served its purpose" I teasingly reply

He lays me on the bed and begins to slowly remove my thong exposing my soaked pussy. Without skipping a beat he drops to his knees, opens my legs, and pulls me to his face. While making eye contact Jake takes my clit to his mouth; slowly but firmly making circles with his tongue.

"Oh fuck, that feels so good." I cry out

Jakes eventually goes wild. My pussy was fueling him; he was licking and sucking every inch of me. It turned him on so much that he unbuckled his pants and began to pump his dick. Every so often he'd let out a soft moan, which drove me absolutely nuts. Jake started to tongue my entrance and suck on my juices, it was like he couldn't get enough of me.

His sheer passion brought me so close to an orgasm already. Jake could feel I was almost there, so he releases his cock and shoves his two fingers in me so abruptly, that I scream out in pain and pleasure. He slightly hooked his fingers and began to move fiercely hitting my g-spot with each pump. Thoroughly enjoying himself, Jake begins to growl into my pussy, and with that my orgasm hits me in waves. It was so overwhelmingly good I could barely breathe.

Jake kisses both my thighs and stands up to wink at me, "Your up Steven."

"Thanks, mate," Steven says. He looks at me "You look so beautiful like that, legs open and out of breath," He then without breaking eye contact licks the 2 fingers that were inside me. "You taste like honey Millie."

Stepping out of his pants he leans over me and gently places a kiss on my forehead," You ready darling?" he asks.

I smile and vigorously shake my head in excitement.

He swiftly flips me over to my stomach and begins to massage my butt. "You have a lovely tight ass" he positions himself over me and begins to slide his dick between my cheeks, slowly moving it up and down. My pussy begins to throb and I can't take it anymore, I want to feel him inside me.

"Please, fuck me, I need you" I plead

"As you wish" Steven shoves himself balls deep inside me. I can't help but moan out from the sudden filling of my pussy. Fiercely gripping my ass he begins a steady pace."Fuck you are so tight." After a while of taking it slow, he then grabs me by the shoulder and takes a handful of my hair, "I'm gonna be a little rough okay?"

I tried to respond with 'okay' but it came out unintelligible.

He chuckles lightly and begins to fuck me like an animal. He was hitting me so deeply that I swear I could feel it in my stomach. With every thrust, his balls would smack my pussy and even that feeling was so good.

"Oh god, oh fuck, don't stop" I felt another orgasm begin to build up.

"Yea you like that? You like being my whore?" He yells

"Oh god yes!" I reply

He roughly pulls my hair which jerks my head up, "Yes What?" he asks

"Yes daddy" I Scream.

Steven begins to smack my ass with every thrust: each time it grew harder and harder. The combination of pleasure and pain was too much and I couldn't hold it anymore. I moan and scream some words I couldn't even understand as my orgasm hit me.

"Fuck you're squeezing our dick so good," Steven says. After coming down from my high he slowly pulls out and helps me roll over. He kisses my chest, "Alright Marc your turn."

He gently moves a braid off of my face, "are you okay?" Marc asks.

I smile and shake my head, "Oh I'm peachy keen" I giggle.

He chuckles a bit and begins to kiss my neck and chest, "God this is what we needed" he begins to suck on my nipple.

I let out a soft moan, and pull his face to mine. "I need you"

He passionately kisses me, exploring my mouth with his tongue; I can still taste myself on him. He's done so much for me tonight It's only fair I return the favor. I flip him over and position myself on top, "Let me take care of you" I beg.

Marc smiles and nods. I grab his dick and slowly lower myself on him, as I watch how he unfolds under me. I began bouncing up and down on his hard cock and enjoying every inch of him. He grabs my ass to help to steady himself as he pumps and meets my thrusts with extra force.

"Fuck baby, you feel so good. I can't take this much longer" he says through his teeth.

"I'm close too; cum with me" I plead

I pick up my pace a bit, watching him enjoy himself was really doing it for me. I lean close to his face and begin to kiss him never slowing my pace. He pulled me closer and began to fuck me harder.

I moan out "Fuck, don't stop, I'm so close"

He began to grunt and growl under me; it was all I needed to reach my climax. My pussy tightened around him so hard that I felt him twitch inside me when he came.

"Fuck" He grunts out

We stay there for a while. Just breathing in each other's faces, coming down from our mutual high. Eventually, I roll off of him, "how was that for a pick me up?" I ask

"Eh needs improvement." He jokes

I smack him with a pillow "I can’t with you" I laugh

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ofpineapplesanddawns · 7 months

Text

While I am still thinking about DT and vampire stuff, my mind drifted to werewolves (because of course), and I remembered I do technically have fics where Ten and Lucian interact and are dating, and then I thought of... this.

Warning: absolutely ridiculous commentary from Ten based on something David talked about at a con when filming Tooth and Claw

Takes place while Lucian and his pack have control over the castle, so before all the shit with Kraven and Lucian faking his death.

On with the fic!

"Did you know," The Doctor said as he peeled a banana he had just pulled out of the inside pocket of his duster, "that I've met a werewolf once?"

"I wouldn't be surprised, you tend to usually land your strange box machine in their territory. Please stop doing that, it makes them more aggressive because the sounds frighten them." Lucian huffed, before putting hot metal into water, steam erupting immediately.

"Ah, yeah, true. But not those werewolves!" The Doctor grinned and bit into his treat. "A 'iffer'n kin'!" He said, his mouth full of fruit.

Lucian removed the metal from the water and set it aside, the Doctor realizing it was a horseshoe. He wondered if Lucian would let him use his sonic to attach to a horse, he had always wanted to use that setting, never got the chance yet.

"What do you mean?" Lucian asked, removing his gloves.

"Well," the Doctor swallowed, "when me and Rose, you know her, told you all about her, yes?"

"Yes, you have."

"Right, well, me and her were trying to travel to the 1970s, I think it was the 1970s, anyway. I miscalculated and sent us back to the 1800s! Wild, eh? Well, there, we ran into the lady herself, Queen Victoria! She'll be queen of the United Kingdom in a few centuries. So, we ran into her in Scotland, lovely place, do visit one day, and we decided to go with her to a manor."

So, as he sat on a seat in Lucian's blacksmith station, the Doctor told the lycan about the events of his time with Queen Victoria. He talked about the strange guards who turned out to be dangerous monks, set to handle and deal with a caged man.

Lucian wasn't exactly thrilled about a wolfman being locked in a cage, but understood that for safety reasons, it was necessary. The Doctor also spoke about the telescope, excited about explaining why that was important later.

But then he got to the part about the transformation he had witnessed. "It was... it was brilliant, in a way! I had never seen anything like it before, ah, just... just gorgeous, you know? Though, I personally like yours better."

"Thank you?"

"You're welcome!" The Doctor beamed. "Anyway, the lad escaped the cage once he changed into a wolf, and... well... I hate to say this, but this boy, was a boy, mind. Like, I know movies and artwork try to avoid it, but he was..."

The Doctor felt warm, and not just from the fire that Lucian was throwing a few dry logs into. He coughed, tugging at his collar.

Lucian glanced at him, tilting his head. "He was what, Doctor?"

"Ah, well... I mean, it's quite rude to point things out, especially for someone who is naked, and really, I didn't mean to look, but he was certainly, uhh..."

The lycan chuckled and shook his head. "Was he very well endowed, Doctor? Is that what you're trying to get at?"

"I didn't mean to look!" The Doctor exclaimed, wringing the banana peel in his hands, looking at some of the finished metal works rather than at the amused man before him. "We were being chased and I kept wanting to get a good look, but my eyes kept seeing- and then there's what happened later, and it's just...! I mean, it was so bright and yet you could still-!"

Lucian was laughing louder now and the Doctor tossed the banana peel at him.

"ANYWAY!" He loudly announced. "We got chased into a library and it turns out that was the right idea cause the room was protected-!" He tried to continue his story, but Lucian was still smiling as he worked and it made it hard to concentrate.

He probably shouldn't have brought this up, him and his big gob.

I'm sorry, but I will never get over David and how impressed he was about the guy doing the motion capture for the werewolf and how the suit he wore left NOTHING to the imagination. David is just in total awe over it, and it's like, why are you telling a room full of people this???

Also, the horseshoe thing is just a silly reference to one of the Big Finish stories and how Ten got very excited about using that setting. The man is a dork.

#john's drabbles #good omens extended universe #lucian x tenth doctor

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bangyourselfminibang · 1 year

Text

Sign-ups extended and claims info!

Were you late for sign-ups, simply forgot or had a genius idea just now? Good news! We're extending the sign-ups period until slide submissions. If you think you can still make it before February 8 - and you should be able to, remember we're a mini bang, so we have low requirements, which you can find here - you can still sign up!

If you aren't sure, it's fine. The sign ups are to tell us how many people are participating, but you're not sure you'll be able to make it, you can still submit something once the slides are due - it's best to join our Discord to stay up to date or turn notifications on here on Tumblr.

And if you don't finish your work before claims, you can still post it as part of the bang solo or find an artist to work with on your own timeline!

Meanwhile...

CLAIMS!

Yes, claims are coming. If you've been waiting for that and want to create a piece inspired by something instead of coming up with an idea of your own, this is your chance. During claims you will get to see amazing fics and artwork from other creators that you can pick and work with to make your own companion piece for.

Claims are not going to be public which means we will only send the slides to those of you who signed up for it. You need to do that before February 8 - then you will get a link to the slides on the claims day in your email!

To sign up to claim something, click here to fill the form!

This is non-binding. You need to sign up to be able to claim something, but if you sign up and nothing catches your eye, it's not a problem!

Have fun and see you during claims!

Submissions sign-ups form | Claims sign-up form | Discord

#bang yourself mini bang 2023 #bymb2023 #selfcest #marvel events #sylki #tonycest #pan reality marvel summit subcommittee meetings

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wheeler-beretta-harwood · 2 years

Note

Hey sweet tits

Two parter here.

It’s date night with Cash (or any AEW wrestler) and it’s your turn to pick. What are you picking that you really want to do that, they really don’t want to do. (Do they end up enjoying it or just sucking it up)

Second Part Now it’s their turn to pick what are you being dragged to and do you end up having fun?

Well, I totally DID NOT want to write this one for Cash, but since you've specifically asked for him... 🤪

AEW is in Chicago, and Cash knows what that means. Everytime he is there, I get ridiculously jealous. I have been obsessed with the Windy City since I was 13, that's 20 years now!

This time, however, he invited me to join him for the trip, and we even stay a day longer so we can have a sweet date. Today is his day off, so I tell him I want to do what Ferris Bueller did with Cameron and visit the Art Institute of Chicago. Cash immediately grimaces, he isn't one for museums...or art. He argues with me saying this should be fun for the BOTH OF US, and I actually have to beg for him to join me. Even then, he still says he won't come along, until he realizes I am on the brink of tears. "Babygirl, please don't cry. I'll come along with you okay? But I get to choose what we'll do on the next date, yeah?" He says while taking my hands in his. I nod in agreement and we make our way over to the museum.

Once we are inside, I can tell he doesn't enjoy this one bit, so I try to get him involved a bit more. "Have you ever heard of the Spanish term 'duende', love?" When he shakes his head, I explain to him. "It's a term that describes how a piece of art can mysteriously move a person's feelings. Maybe we'll find some artwork today that has that effect on us..." He smiles at me and holds my hand, but I know he thinks I'm just crazy.

When we stand in front of the artwork where Cameron had his 'duende moment', Cash wrinkles his nose. "That's very splotchy, don't you think? The people don't even have real faces."

I look up at him and have to smile. "That's because it is a piece of Impressionism and Pointillism. It's supposed to be like that. Just a glimpse of a moment, unlike a photograph that captures every detail. Imagine standing in a crowded park...no wait. Imagine being in the ring. You look around and see the crowd, you know they're there, but they all blur into one. You can't really see any distinct faces, right?"

He thinks about it for a bit and then hums as response before he turns to look at me and gently pecks my lips. "You're really good at this."

"Good at what, Cash?"

"Explaining things. Making me care."

We walk around and look at artwork for another hour. Cash starts to give me his thoughts on the pieces and honestly, it's the sweetest thing to witness. When we stand in front of a still life, he stares at it. "Babygirl...I'm really hungry." I laugh at his comment, causing the people standing next to us to frown at me and tell me to keep it down. I apologize and tell Cash we can go grab a bite now. We'll get whatever he wants.

When we walk to the exit, he suddenly stops in front of a painting, which causes me to bump into him. He looks at it intently: a couple, the man holding the woman close to his chest, as if he needed to protect her from the world around them.

I turn my gaze to him and when he notices, he softly whispers. "This is it. This is my duende." He then turns to me and pulls me close to his chest, similar to the man in the painting. "I love you so much." He adds before kissing me and I smile into the kiss.

Two weeks later, we are visiting his mom in North Carolina and Cash plans a date for us in between the whole family reunion. Something he hasn't done in years: fishing. "You're doing that on purpose right? That's your way of getting back at me for the museum date."

"Oh come on, babe. I am not that vengeful." He then leans real close to me, and I prepare myself for a sweet kiss. Instead he whispers in my ear. "Or am I?!"

Followed by a vicious laughter.

I try to act unbothered which fuels his intentions of sweet revenge even more. So this is how I end up at the river shore, a fishing rod in my hands while he shows me the right technique to use it. I can already tell he regrets bringing me with him because no matter how hard I try, I can't do it the way he shows me. "I'm sorry, love, I just don't get how you whip it like that."

He chuckles and gives me a side hug. "Don't worry babe, once it's in the water, you don't need to whip it anymore."

Then he walks into the water until he is standing in the river, water up to his thighs.

"What are you doing?! Aren't we supposed to stay out of the water? What about my pants!?!"

He just laughs and says they'll dry in no time. I frown at him and take a few minutes to finally copy him in the water. For a few moments, no one says anything which makes me a bit uncomfortable.

"So, how long does it take to catch some fish?" I ask as I turn to him. He doesn't reply, but puts his index finger on his lips.

I am quiet for some moments before I start again. "What kind of fish could we catch here?" Again, no answer.

This continues a few more times until Cash finally snaps. "Babygirl. I love you with all my heart. But I swear to God, if you don't shut up now, I'll leave you in the forest. WITH ALL THE SPIDERS."

I whisper a soft 'sorry' and remain silent. It's hard at first because, well, I love talking to him, but after a few more minutes, I start to look around. This is actually a nice spot to be in. I listen to the wind rustling the leaves on the trees and to the gurgling of the water around me. The reflection of the sun dancing on the moving surface is mezmerizing, like little crystals floating in the water. When I look up at the sky, I notice a single cloud shaped like a heart and smile to myself before looking at Cash again. He smirks at me, and I now understand why he brought me here and why I needed to be quiet: this place is magical, when you take a closer look.

His focus then shifts on the river and he starts pulling in his rod - my man caught a fish, and for some odd reason, I find it sexy as hell. He proudly looks at me. "Dinner's ready, babe."

"We're going to eat it?"

He laughs at me. "What else would we do with it? You try and find some dry wood for a fire, I'll prepare the fish." He matter-of-factly states before moving out of the water. I follow close behind and do as he told me.

Once the fireplace is set up and the fish is waiting to be cooked, I sit next to Cash as he uses flints to ignite a fire. It takes him a few tries until the sparks are flying, and I can't help but admire him: the way his arms flex with every movement and the determination to use these stones instead of the lighter we also brought along.

When the fish is cooking, he moves closer and wraps his arm around me. I smile at the fire. "Remind me to keep you close in case of an apocalypse." He laughs at my comment and kisses the top of my head. We sit like this for some time, just enjoying each other's company before I have to ask him one more question that's been nagging me. "Cash?"

"Yeah?"

"Would you really leave me in the forest...with the spiders?"

He laughs out loud before moving my head so I look up at him and caresses my cheek. "Never, baby."

#aew imagine #all elite wrestling imagine #cash wheeler imagine #cash wheeler #cash wheeler x reader #aew #all elite wrestling

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abbynx · 2 years

Text

Things I think about

Ahhhh just a random compilation of thoughts and drabbles I have of JoJo characters because I like day dreaming to avoid feeling the full extent of my daunting existence.

Warning: Language, spoilers for Stone Ocean, descriptions of mild gore

~ Imagine like Speedwagon constantly donating funds from the Speedwagon foundation into orphanages, schools, juvenile facilities, rehabilitation and such

I like to think Speedwagon foundation picks top students from impoverished areas and provide them scholarships to attend one of the most prestigious schools

Just... Speedwagon wanting to help the less fortunate, especially children and teens coming from rough parts of environments warms my heart ya know?

~ OKAY BUT IMAGINE ONE OF THE THREE TORTURE DANCE BOYS SERENADING YOU, DANCING AND EVERYTHING

Okok, I've been watching 21 Chump Street and got to the part where the protagonist was going off about how he asked this girl out to the prom by serenading her with a dance, and the Torture dance boys came to mind

Maybe not all of them will fit the mold of serenading their s/o/crush with a dance (*cough* Fugo) but hey it's JoJo's bizarre adventure

Just... Picture these boys performing the torture dance while asking you out to prom/date/MARRIAGE, I'd accept right then and there ✊😩

~ I've thought about this since I first encounter this character— Aya Tsuji and the goddess she is, helping out a client (I typically envision X reader ideas, so I guess that client is a Y/N) about loving themselves.

Like, this client goes to the chair and Aya notices the lack of love they have for themselves. Them they asked her if it's possible if they can find love within themselves. Aya was slightly taken aback at how unconventional the request is, but she is a fairy godmother, of course she'll help you out!

She didn't use Cinderella on you and instead just gave you a goody bag filled with self care items, plus snacks and her number because now she's not just your fairy god mother, but your bestie 💅

BUT I, A BI, INSISTS THIS TO BE ROMANCE

But I thought that would defeat the purpose of the message of what I'm trying to get across so yeah. But it can be romantic if the reader wishes it to read that way!

~ I've been thinking waaaaay too much about a character I'd love to insert in La Squadra— the extremely girly, catty mean girl you'd see but is actually sweet and smart. I always envision her getting into a heated discussion about what she wears with Prosciutto, wherein you'd think that Pro is arguing with her because he's slut shaming her, when in reality he's just looking out for her...

"GODDAMN IT YOU'RE WEARING A TWELVE INCHED STILETTO'S AND YOU'RE POSSIBLY FACING GUNFIRES AND STANDS!"

Just, La Squadra knows she can handle herself, but will jump at people and throw hands if rando peeps slut shame her.

Idk why, but I envisioned her back getting stuck in Ghiaccio's ice and in panic, she squirms and peels herself from the ice, the skin of her back getting peeled off. Her skin gets grafted and for awhile, she feels insecure about it. She loved wearing backless apparels and after her accident, she no longer wore them. She couldn't even wear tank tops at how insecure she was.

After accepting herself, she's taken to wear backless apparels again and actually got her whole back tattooed with black and pink intricate artwork.

~ I also had this one-shot fic in mind featuring Polnareff and his more protective brotherly side. Like, I had this idea of him hitting on a young teen in a bar and mistook them for an adult and when he finds out, he freaks out because you're not supposed to be there because you're basically a baby. His flirty self gets a full 180 as he transforms as this concerned mother hen who will push you out the bar and take you to your mom or something

~ Maybe this is just me projecting, but Josuke being understanding when you reject his feelings and you can't have a relationship with him because your parents are strict. So even if you love him back, you still can't commit because you fear and respect your parents to obey them. Might be an Asian thing, but eh, that's currently my case.

BUT JOSUKE BEING UNDERSTANDING AND WILL RESPECT YOUR DECISION! I know it's like bare minimum BUT GODDAMN IT I LOVE THIS BOY

And after that he won't even ghost you 😭

~ I've had this idea for a Jolyne one-shot, wherein reader has always been friends with Jolyne (and *cough* has feelings for her). I picture this friendship between two unlikely people, with reader being a top student and perfect attendance and good manners, whilst Jolyne is... Jolyne.

Like omg— Jolyne being her cute adorable self with you after she threatened some guy to knock his front tooth in when he took your spot in the cafeteria or something lmao

Reader being highkey jealous when Romeo and Jolyne are together, especially when Jolyne is very clingy and openly affectionate to him. Reader then resorts to passive aggressive attitude when interacting with Romeo, but Jolyne chalks it up to you being stressed in getting to college.

Okok, onto the plot, Reader is studying is to be lawyer when Jolyne gets arrested. Reader, the ever so loving friend, decided to get arrested so that they can be with Jolyne. They did not do some thinking at all, and just got themself arrested just to see Jolyne again.

You were informed how her boyfriend Romeo, the person she has always babbled about and how she loves him, betrayed her. She claims of attempts to declare her innocence and yet no one listened to her. Knowing she needs someone by her side, you immediately got yourself arrested.

This is perhaps around the part where Anasui is making the moves on her and WHOO boi, he has the big mad for you, threatning to kill you and all. But knowing Jolyne would be upset, he resorts to just belittling you when Jolyne has her back turned.

"Lawyer, huh? Why didn't you just set her free with that fancy little degree of yours? Instead you chose to be selfish and see her in prison." Or stuff like that.

And reader, the number 1 Jolyne simp responds to him that shuts him up. Can't think of it yet tbh.

Basically a love triangle but you're obviously winning lmao

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bonny-kookoo · 4 years

Text

Sweet Girl [J.JK x Reader]🔞🌼☁️

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut, angst because I like to cry myself to sleep

Warnings: dom/sub dynamics, dom!jungkook, sub!Reader, size kink is still strong, mild dd/lg themes, praise kink, long haired jungkook because yes that needs to be a warning, strength kink, they fuck in the kitchen smh

Jungkook and you are in a healthy relationship, managing all those things couples have to manage; building an IKEA bed, having your first fight, or arguing who should do the laundry this time. Apart from that, your life inside your bedroom has been pretty active as well, leaving Jungkook more satisfied than ever. He's not a horny teenager anymore after all, trying not to bust a nut just because he got a glimpse of your nipples through your rather thin shirt- yet you always manage to be so unbelievably sinful, he can't help but snatch a taste every now and then. After all, you're his- he's simply reminding you.

This is part of the 'Good Girl'-Universe!

Good Girl || Sweet Girl || Smart Girl || Brave Girl

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Jeon Jungkook and you loved to tease each other. From the way he would rub his sweat-soaked hair all over the crook of your neck playfully after his workout just to rile you up, just to exclaim happily that you love him too much to actually be serious when you yell that he's disgusting. And he's right- even if he's exhausting to be around sometimes with his seemingly endless energy (seriously, you're convinced at this point that he's the human embodiment of the energizer bunny), or how he could sometimes forget that you're not as tough as his other male friends that he was regularly around. You catch yourself laughing inside yourself every time you turn into a crybaby and tear up when a comment gets under your skin, because his entire body changes posture- every time he notices you getting hurt because he's too rough while playfighting, or when he again tells you you could just get your chubby butt up and work out with him, completely ignoring the fact that he knows its a very sensitive topic for you; he literally turns into a complete child who just got asked to explain rocket science. Jungkook isn't used to handle something as fragile as a girl- plus, you play along and usually brush off most things so easily, that he simply sometimes forgets that you actually have weak points.

One of these moments occured early on in your relationship; it was a silly mistake on his side really. When Taehyung asked him straight up if he was dating you, you didn't expect a huge love proposal; Jungkook wasn't like that. But a simple yes would've been okay as well- yet Jungkook being the cocky bastard he was, simply made a comment along the lines of 'nah, I'm just screwing her.' It was meant as a joke really, and it took him a good thirty seconds to notice your demeanor changing. Deep inside you, you knew he didn't mean it like that, yet it still hit you hard, especially considering his past hobby of trying to be the biggest manwhore around. When he'd went after you just when you had told him you'd be using the bathroom and not returning after a good ten minutes, he'd bursted into the womans bathrooms just in time to see you trying to wipe away your tears. His face had been priceless really now that you thought about it; before that moment you always had a hard time imagining that 'kicked puppy look' people always talked about- he didn't look like you just kicked him, but full on sucker punched his prized playstation out of orbit just for a laugh. He was totally unprepared and clearly had no idea what to do in that moment, never having needed to deal with tears in that way- and your face had hit him especially hard, considering how it was his fault at that. Considering how lost he really was he dealt with it quite sweetly, yet in a typical Jungkook fashion- uncaring of other woman and girls trying to get into the bathroom, he'd grabbed a considerable amount of tissue paper from the dispenser next to the sink you were standing in front of, promptly sitting you on top of it to properly have you at eye-level with him to wipe away your tears and smeared make up, telling you how you looked better without it anyways, and how sorry he was for being an utter asshole and idiot at the same time. You honestly started laughing at that. Not necessarily his comment even though it was true, but his extremely concentrated face, as if he was restoring an ancient artwork or something the likes of that. He audibly sighed at that, glad to know you didn't hate him. Because that was his innermost fear; you probably seeing the dickbag he thought he was underneath and leaving him for good. Not that he'd tell you that. You knew of that fear though.

Needless to say, it wasn't the only thing that happened between you both. Yet you've always overcome these things with ease, both of you growing surprisingly mature about arguments as time went on. Jungkook changed you as well- you were a wallflower before, and if you were honest, you kind of still were. But you were carrying yourself with a newfound confidence because of his daily praises- turning heads every now and then simply because you actually liked yourself these days. And Jungkook noticed as well- always commenting on how he didn't know if he liked the change or not, considering how much attention you now got everywhere you both went. You simply countered that with a simple comment along the lines of 'Now you know how I feel', because he was glowing up every month it seemed. Yet he stayed true to his words back then to you; he really did only have eyes for you anymore.

What really did piss him off was just how innocent you could be sometimes. It had him fuming how oblivious you could seem to others shamelessly flirting with you, yet he knew that he loved that about you just as much. The fact that you would willingly (and happily of course) let him corrupt you over and over again fuled his pride to no ends, making him feel like he was your knight in shining armor, even if it sounded sappy. Right now however he could really use some more patience, because he was sure his own amount was slowly running out. When he came back home, he didn't really have any plans, except for the one you had already agreed on. You both wanted to cook something tonight, nothing fancy, simply craving some kind of 'bonding time' as you called it, even though he had immediately told you this could be done in a different way, to which you blushed. He loved making you embarrassed, almost craving the way your flustered cheeks would turn into a beautiful red shade.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

He knew those plans would change however as soon as he spotted you on the couch in his living room. That itself wasn't something new since you lived here, but the attire you chose was rather.. unfair. He was supposed to keep it in his pants tonight, yet he could already feel himself rising against the fabric of his sweatpants at the view of you in a black shirt of his, oversized on your way smaller body. Yet that exactly did it- because that was all you wore, apart from your flimsy pair of pastel blue lace rimmed panties. You raised your head from out of your book and he was a goner as soon as he saw those eyes.

"Babydoll you're being really unfair right now." He groaned as he sat down on the couch, making you bounce a bit next to him. You looked at him confused, his patience snapping. Maybe it was his frustration that had filled up his mind during the day, or simply his habit of taking what he wanted when he wanted it, but soon enough you found yourself on his lap, your legs on either side of his. His hands were fast to reach under your, or more so his shirt, growling when he felt your bare breasts underneath his fingers. You really were asking for it.

Stop. Mission abort. Cancel all open tasks. Shutdown, emergency-

With a sigh the young boy detached himself from you, running a hand through his hair rather agressively. Even though he would usually not feel too bad about his actions, especially with you, considering he felt rather safe and comfortable around you, he had to remember the small argument you both had the night prior. It really hadn't even been an argument if he was being honest, and it was basically all on him that night, yet he felt like he needed to second-guess his actions now. It had been a simple question really, admittedly a fair one at that, however, it also was one he rather feared answering. Yes, Jeon Jungkook was actually scared of a mere question.

'Why won't you kiss me?'

Well, yeah. Why wouldn't he? To answer that would mean to expose himself, to open himself up, to be vulnerable- and even though he knew deep down that you would never use anything against him in an almost predatory meanor others in the past had, he couldn't shake the feeling off. The fear, of what he couldn't tell. He simply waved you off, telling you that you both didn't need those sappy gestures, and you had simply nodded, accepting that, even though he knew that you felt hurt by his answer. Hell, he felt hurt by his own answer. And what had hurt him even more was your reaction to it; somehow he wanted you to be offended, to openly dig at his wounds, to scratch at his scars and make him spill his blood into your hands. He didn't want you to feel like he only loved you physically, like he only wanted to own your body, because he craved so much more than your touchable form. He wanted to build his home into your very soul, wanted to surround himself with your voice and live in your very heartbeat- yet it didn't matter how romantic and oh-so poetic his own thoughts could be. It didn't matter at all if he couldn't say it.

He looked at you, internally cringing at the way you looked at him, utterly confused. You'd gotten so used to him using you that it made his own saliva taste bitter, making him crinkle his brows a little. "I-" He started, yet took a deep breath, his eyes aimlessly dancing over the plush carpet, analyzing the various shades of light brown it presented to him. Right now he hated it. Hated how it made his apartment, your apartment feel like home. He hated how it did fit into the living room even though he'd complained about you buying it, arguing that you started to take over his life back then when you both didn't even date each other. He hated how he fell in love with it after he'd seen you lay on it with your phone in hand, the small white fan in the corner of the room softly blowing your hair and clothes during the summer. He hated how he remembered spilling his soda on it one day, freaking out because he knew even if he would cover it up you'd notice, you always noticed. Just like now. Because the hand you'd placed on his shoulder as a form of comfort had never felt so heavy on him, like a brick trying to force his entire back down. "M' sorry.." He simply grunted out, putting his head in his hands.

"What're you sorry for?" You had laughed a bit uneasy, and he hated the sound of it. He always pictured himself as the man who was oh-so protective of you, yet right now he'd never felt so small. "Is it about yesterday? You don't have to change Jungkookie, I don't mind-" Yet he had to shut you up, turning a bit to look at you with a face melted into a vision of being thrown side by side by your own thoughts. This was exactly the issue. You didn't mind- and he knew that you didn't even lie about that- it made everything so much worse.

The nickname, the way you said it, the way you meant it- it all just punched his guts even harder. Instead of answering he simply took your face in his hands, placing his lips onto yours with so much emotion you could feel them trembling. His kisses turned into more than simple pecks, they turned into desperate cries of confusion, of insecurity, of so many things you would've never associated Jungkook with. Slowly your bodies fell into place again, with him laying you down on your back, a pillow falling down and knocking a fork down from the small table, yet none of you cared about it in that moment. As soon as you reached for his belt he'd grabbed your hand, holding them with such care. "No no- I-" He said, switching between kissing and talking. "I want to- no, I need to make love to you, yeah?" You squeaked at his sudden movement when he'd picked you up, trying to carry you to the shared bedroom, yet aborting that mission as well by simply sitting you ontop of the kitchen counter, the marbled stone cold underneath your butt. You gasped into the open air, the way he'd just lifted you with such ease making you feel so small- in every good way possible. Yet even though this wasn't the first time making out in the kitchen, this was new- to both of you. He had no clue what to actually do, exploring new territory as well as you did in that moment, never having gone slow before. Yet he slowly eased into it, his arms leading his hands over your exposed skin, fingers softly squeezing the flesh of your thighs. His kisses started to wander, caressing your neck, yet even though his dominant side was starting to show the more comfortable he got with what he was doing, you noticed a slight difference in his demeanor. His arms weren't limiting your movement, weren't moving you around to his hearts content- even though you would never complain about that- they were around you, his hands on your back, bunching up the fabric of his shirt in his hands, then letting go just to repeat like a kneading cat. "You're so sweet, so so sweet, did I ever tell you that?" He whispered almost like a secret, and you felt like he was bewitching you in a weird way. "Wanna keep you all to myself, wanna hide you like a secret." He said lowly, almost growled, and you felt yourself slowly fall for his word with every sound he made. "But I also wanna show you everyone, wanna show everyone how lucky I am, how I got the prettiest and sweetest of them all." He said, hands wandering up his shirt you were wearing, running over your soft breasts, squeezing them softly and relishing in the way they felt under his fingertips. He always loved your skin, even though you'd complained before how you disliked the slight chub on your lower belly, or how your thighs were thicker than most girls your height. Yet he couldn't find anything wrong with it, loving the way it gave you such a soft vibe and feel. This was you, every little flaw that you were seeing he saw as another thing to love about you, as sappy as it sounded. "You're my good girl, my best girl.." He said before he started to move your already ruined panties to the side, his fingers exploring your heat. "My only girl." He said, making you mewl into his neck, hands now grabbing his shirt for a change. He made you shuffle a bit closer towards him, standing between your legs while his tattooed hand pushed two fingers inside you, reaching to make you feel good, yet never going the usual pace.

"Jungkoo-ah- Jungkookie please-!" You sighed, and he simply chuckled, kissing your neck, down to your collarbone where he playfully nipped at the skin, loving the sounds you were making. "No no no, I wanna go slow yeah? Wanna make love babydoll, we got time.." He said, and you shot him a pout, making him laugh. "Come on I'm trying to be romantic here!" He said, and you reached for his jeans again- making him move your hands away again. "Nuh-uh. Good girls are patient. You can wait right, pretty girl?" He said playfully, making you pout again. He couldn't help but comply with you. How could he not? He loved you. He really did. Fuck, he really, really did. Undoing his belt and letting his pants fall to his knees along with his underwear, he reached for your butt, making you shimmy even closer to him so he could swiftly enter you, making both of you gasp out both in anticipation and relief from your side for getting your way.

The simple view he had of your form speared on his cock was the sole reason he loved every position that made him look at you. The picture in front of him just was too presious yet sinful to be wasted. He wished he could take a picture of it actually, yet he decided against it, having heard his phone fall out of the back pocket of his jeans before, and he was kind of too terrified to see his screen cracked yet. He also couldn't really think about it, the way your walls engulfed him occupying his mind almost completely. His arms encaved you, holding you against him as close as possible, creating a safe haven for you and your mindset. You always slipped into some sort of headspace whenever his praise and affection got to a certain point- something that had terrified you at first, making you feel a bit embarrased as well- yet Jungkook had assured you that it was completely okay and normal, having googled it someday back when he'd been bored on his phone. It was actually quite endearing that your mind trusted him enough to slip into such a vulnerable state, his pride feeding off if it to no end.

He wanted to go slow, yet by the end of it his pace had quickened to his typical ruthless tempo, making you gasp out bursts of breath against his neck, hands clawing at his shoulder blades though the material of his shirt, grabbing onto him for dear life, while on your fast lane to release. When he came himself his breathing got erratic from oversensitivity, yet he ignored it to bring you over the edge as well, even making you ride it out to its fullest afterwards. When you slowly deflated against him, hands simply reaching out for his body, he softly cooed at you, completely enchanted by you in your post-orgasmic bliss. Suddenly he laughed, resting his head in the crook of your neck. "God, why am I like this?" He said, soft smile turning bitter. "Can't even be soft for one fucking time." Yet your hand softly ran through his now slightly damp locks, head turning to look at him with so much endearment he could cry- well, he actually felt his eyes start to sting, but he swallowed them down.

"You don't have to, Jungkookie." You softly said, and he wanted to argue. "Don't change. You're perfect just the way you are. I love you either way. Doesn't matter if you buy me roses or screw me in the kitchen. I take any love you give me." He suddenly laughed, and his eyes turned into sparkling half moons, his bunny smile almost blinding you.

"God I love you."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

"Jungkookie?"

"hm?"

"I'm hungry."

"There's leftovers in the oven."

"You're not gonna treat me some chicken nuggets?"

"Tomorrow maybe. Its too late now baby."

"Come on, be a sweet baby-boy and do it-"

"Careful sweetheart."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

IT.IS.FINALLY.OUT.Thank you all so so much for waiting so patiently, I really didn't expect all of you to even stay, let alone shower me with all of your support- I really didn't deserve that! I hope I didn't dissapoint too much with it, since I didn't check for spelling errors :( I love you all, and I hope you're all staying safe and healthy during these times! Remember that spreading love begins with self-love, and self-love begins with small steps 💜

#jungkook #bts #bts fanfic #bts jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagine #dom!Jungkook #sub!read #jungkook x reader #bts imagine #bts smut #jungkook smut #bts fluff #bts angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst

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zephycluster · 3 years

Text

Precolonial HWS SEA Rant Post, feel free to ignore

If you're still reading, then you're probably looking for evidence or some juicy tidbits to throw back at me or to try and find dirt to cancel me, like typical Tumblr/Twitter. Go ahead, I don't really care.

First off, let me just say that If you like Precolonial South-East Asia AUs, feel free to keep enjoying them. I will respectfully support your passions from afar. This post is just to explain why I don't like it, especially the way they keep insisting/portraying PH in it.

Still here? Then let me begin.

Since the recent confirmation that the ASEAN Six Majors (Can't really say ASEAN 10 atm since it's still missing some people) Were completed and the Ma-Phil-Indo Trio was included, there has been a large surge in 'Precolonial' fanarts and portrayals of South East Asians, those three especially.

Even long, long before, circa 2010's ish, a rather well-known fan universe known as 'Maaf' dealt with their story and how their Author thought their intertwined histories went. Written by (my best guesstimate) an Indonesian writer who wants to explore the old, SEA bond.

When I first stumbled across Maaf (I was in Highschool at the time, around age 16-ish), I took a casual interest in it and tried to read it through. But, I will wholeheartedly admit that at the time, Pre-Colonial cultures of South-East Asia in general, let alone Philippine, did not really interest me that much. The focus (I think) was mostly on Indonesia, a country I didn't really know back then, and the liberal use of 'ancient' names and artwork just made it feel like an entirely Original Work (that needed a degree in History to really appreciate) and not something from Hetalia. I also completely disagreed with what I could gather was the story's portrayal of PH but I'm getting ahead of myself.

Do I hate 'Maaf'? No, I don't hate it. Do I wish I never came across it or that it didn't exist? Of course not. Just because I didn't enjoy it or appreciate it that well doesn't mean I wish any ill toward it, its fans, or its creator.

Fast forward to April 2021, the long awaited inclusion of South East Asia to the canon Hetalia verse. I was happy, the other fans were happy, all was good.

Then started the questionable fanarts, fan theories and fan pairings.

Especially the expansion of Precolonial! PH.

Let's go back to Maaf for one moment. From what I understood of Maaf, PH there was a character who once was like all the other South East Asian cultures, trading with them, all around being a nice family.

But all that changed when the Spaniards attacked, so cry the precolonial buffs. They destroyed everything, ransacked and marginalized the tribes, erased everything that PH was!

Did that happen? ABSOLUTELY. The Spaniards had this vision in mind that they must spread Christianity to all of the 'savage, unchristian heathens' of their realm. :V /s

But back up a second, back to PH's portrayal in Maaf. The way she (yeah, she) was portrayed there was that she was slowly losing her memories of being a 'true' South East Asian and grew more and more westernized in the process, like some sort of Culture-specific Alzheimer's or something.

Firstly, that is seriously depressing, and secondly, I just really don't see that happening.

Here's why.

Point 1: Even before Colonial Masters, Filipinos as a people cannot agree on anything.

I'll just begin this segment with a Philippine proverb that outlines what Filipinos call 'Crab Mentality' or 'Crab Bucket Mentality'.

"You don't need a lid for a container when you're keeping multiple crabs. If you keep at least two crabs together, they will just pull each other down instead of helping each other up."

I don't know how it goes with Indonesian or Malaysian history class, but what I know of my homeland, both pre- and post-colonial history, we were never really 'united' or 'together' in the sense that Indonesia and Malaysia were (from what I assume).

Let me pull up a somewhat related question on r/AskHistorians.

The reason I brought this up as it shows the reasons why, in my opinion, a single entity that is 'Precolonial Philippines-tan' is an impossibility.

The answers are long and would extend this already long post to stupid proportions, so I'll just quote relevant sentences. The link is here for those that wanna deep-dive into the answer.

"All this to say that there wasn't a name used for the entire Philippine islands before the Philippines that people now would agree to. An interesting comparison would be the Holy Roman Empire, which might also be characterized as disparate politico-geographic groups of relatively small size that had a history of relations between each other, but one thing they had that the Philippines did not was a common language, or at least a family of mostly mutually intelligible languages, so that the name Deutschland or Germany isn't terribly offensive to anyone. If you called the Philippines the 'Lupang-Tagalog' or even 'Lupang-Tao' the other ethnic groups would protest."

For those in need of translation, 'Lupang Tagalog' means 'Land of the Tagalogs' and 'Lupang Tao' means 'Land of People', specifically. The first one is already exclusive and offensive, as the Tagalog peoples are but one of many ethnicities here.

And for the 'Lupang Tagalog' suggestion specifically, it's even more offensive as they are the majority ethnicity (not by much, just around 28%) From this chart from Geography Now! It would basically be alienating everyone else in the 72% remainder that isn't 'Tagalog'.

And even 'Lupang Tao', the most generic name in a local language you can think of, would be met with contempt because the name itself is in the Tagalog language.

Just travelling between two individual island groups today would sometimes require a translator because the words can change very rapidly and very drastically. Here's a sample of some differences coming from a friend living in Visayas (in Red) vs. the words I know living in Luzon (In blue).

Ate vs. Manang = Older Sister

Ibon vs. Pispis = Bird

Tumawa vs. Kadlaw = To laugh

Takot vs. Hadlok = Fear

Kain vs. Kaon = To eat

Ngayon vs. Subong = Now, at this point in time

Iyak vs. Hibi/Gibi = to cry

Talampakan vs. Tiil = Foot (in Tagalog, the word retains its 'body part AND unit of measurement' meaning)

Tulog vs. Tuyo = to sleep (Tuyo in Tagalog is either a dried salted fish or 'to dry')

The kicker is that just like Tagalog is just one of many languages here, so too is the language my friend speaks. Ask an entirely new person, like someone from Mindanao, they'll probably have an entirely new set of words.

It's not just Luzon vs. Visayas vs. Mindanao, either. Here's a map listing some of the ethnic groups here.

Even the way they're written differs from location to location.

While we're on the subject of Island divisions, a casual skim across Twitter and Tumblr has shown that their Precolonial PH has been one of the following ancient civilizations: Tondo, Butuan, Sugbu, Namayan. There may have been others but that was what I have found.

Notice how even today, the posters of Precolonial PH can't seem to agree on what he's supposed to be? With Indonesia it's either Majapahit or Srivijaya and Malaysia it's usually Malacca iirc.

What is the big deal? Well, let's go back to the Ask Historians post. "Why didn't the Philippines ever change its name to remove the colonial mark that being named after a Spanish King has?" The answer: "If you suggested something dating to precolonial times, the other ethnic groups would protest."

Since we're on a roll with maps, let me bring this up.

As you can see, the precolonial PH posts have a reason to not be able to agree on one thing, as there is a LOT of options. Do you also see how THAT list is also split up?

It's split up into those aligned with China (Sinified), aligned with India (Indianized), aligned with the Middle East (Islamicized), and no alignment (Animist). Now, let's go back to the main suggestions for which Kingdom/Polity/Civilization/whatever Modern Philippines used to be.

If the Filipino peoples' couldn't agree on something as simple as WHAT TO CALL THE LAND THEY'RE LIVING ON, what more a living, breathing, walking, talking entity that is supposed to be a beacon of all of their 'unified' culture? ESPECIALLY if that entity used to be a currently existing Kingdom/Polity/Rajahnate/Sultanate/whatever.

Tondo? "Of course, always the damn Tagalogs. Tagalog this, Tagalog that. First the capital city, then the language,* THE REST OF US EXIST, YOU KNOW! What about us in Visayas? Mindanao?"

*The national language known as 'Filipino' is just standardized Tagalog*

Butuan? "Wait, you want Butuan to represent us? They're they only Indian-aligned city in the Islam-majority Mindanao! They're not even that many of them! I'm not gonna change my religion!"

Sugbu, the other name for the Rajahnate of Cebu on the map? Lemme bring back my Visayan friend again. According to her, she hails from the Hiligaynon part of Visayas.

"Sure :v and the other islands are what?

Chopped liver?

Not to mention the language and writing barrier helloooo"

And Namayan? Well. I'll let this pic speak for itself.

To summarize, no matter who you pick as Modern PH's previous identity, it will not end well nor be accepted by the other Kingdoms at the time.

"So where does that leave Modern PH, he had to have been ONE of them, right?"

Well, not really. He doesn't HAVE to be one of the Ancient Kingdoms that lasted till the modern day. I mean, predecessor representatives exist in Hetalia canon, after all. Like Modern Greece is a different character from Ancient Greece, Ancient Egypt and Modern Egypt, heck even England and his brothers have a canon mother that was the rep before them.

Or you could even use the same logic that Germany does, in that each specific region has/had its own representative and that Modern!PH is just the 'mediator' between them (cause gawd does PH need one). There could be a Tondo, a Namayan, a Butuan, and a Sugbu, all arguing and this Proto-PH is just trying to make headway in making them all satisfied.

But, even after all this, there is another reason why I personally don't subscribe to the 'Precolonial PH' idea, and by tangential extension, the Indo x Phil pairing.

Point 2: Even without intending to, Precolonial Indo x Phil just comes off as patronizing

This second point is just ENTIRELY personal preference and barely has any facts to back it up.

Again, if you like the pairing and disagree with me, You do you. I will respectfully support you and your passions from a distance.

But for me, Indo being Phil's seme/bae/boyfriend and consistently bringing up precolonial times just comes off as patronizing.

Just one more time, I'd like to point out that I am NOT bashing Indonesia, its people or the subscribers of Indo x Phil. This is just how the pairing feels to ME specifically.

The way I see it, Indo x Phil as a pairing, especially if it extends back into precolonial times, reads the same way as a long-since married couple where the husband/wife CONSTANTLY brings up that ONE outing you had together, or that ONE prom night where you kissed while dancing, even it happened like 30 some-odd years ago and so much more happened since then.

Even in a platonic sense, It reads like two besties where one ALWAYS mentions stuff like 'Yeah but you looked so much cooler back in High School' or 'Back in Grade School you would've known that', or 'Remember back in Pre-school we did X? How could you forget that?'

How does one respond to the notion that no matter what you do now, it will never compare to a past you've already forgotten or barely remember? That the best version of 'you' is already long gone?

"That's because the westerners made you forget your culture! You gotta take it back!"

While it is true, yes, as a collective we barely remember the Kingdom that commissioned the Laguna Copperplate, or created the Banaue Rice Terraces, or created the millennia old bonds that we still share with Indonesia and Malaysia.

But to keep pushing the precolonial identity would be to neglect and cast aside the one REAL binding belief and culture that spans the entirety of these islands we call the Philippines.

We take on all the bad stuff that happens to us, conquer it, and make it our own. Be it natural disasters, foreign powers, or negative stereotypical mentalities.

Yes, we've forgotten the ancient kingdoms of old and are just now digging through the closet for those remnants of the past. Yes, the colonizers imposed that on us, and made us forget. But in the process we've also taken everything that they left behind, everything that they threw at us, and created something that can only come from us.

The lanterns that the Spaniards used to light the way to the morning masses they made us attend became our globally known symbol of Christmas. The junked vehicles that the Americans left behind in World War 2 are now rolling works of art that announce themselves loud and proud on the streets (for better or for worse). The iced dessert recipe that the Japanese forced us to learn while they were occupying the country is now so distinct and famous it is synonymous with us, and is so delicious even Italy has taken notice.

Even after all this? Even after all the 425-ish years total we have been under a foreign power, with all the progress we've made as a country, a people, and a nation, you would still imply our fragmented, jigsaw puzzle state of being in the past was better just because it was pure 'South East Asian' like everyone else?

We might not be as well put-together as Indonesia or Malaysia, but we made this melting pot of angry, leg-pulling, dogpiling, Native, Mestizo, Chinoy, and Fil-Am crabs OURS, damnit!

It's now 4:30 AM and I have work in 5 or so hours. I'll be going to sleep now.

#hws #hws philippines #precolonial philippines #hws theory #hetalia #hetalia world stars #hetalia world series #hetalia headcanons #aph #axis powers hetalia #aph philippines #hetalia philippines #aph hetalia

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sillyrabbit81 · 3 years

Text

The Pull

Summary: Alternative Universe. Vampire Henry. Henry, Crown Prince of the Vampires is avoiding his responsibilities because of his mother's fate. When Henry finds his mate, the circumstances are eerily similar to his mother's. Rather than risking his mate's life, Henry chooses to run, but can he run from his fate?

Pairing: Henry x OFC

Word Count: approx 2.4k

Warnings: mention of death, mention of abortion (although it didn't happen), and swearing

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 3

Chapter Two

Rowena POV

"David, I can't wear this!" I complained on the phone. I held up the dress again. "It's just too much, too revealing."

It was a simple white silk floor-length skirt, but the top of the dress was two long vertical pieces of silk, barely wide enough to cover my breasts, which crossed at the back before wrapping around my waist and tied in a bow on my lower back. There was no way I could wear a bra. It would only take a slight wrong move, and there would be an embarrassing nipple slip.

"Yes, you can," my brother said. "Lawrence had it made for you to wear as a gift. He wants to meet you and make a good impression." Lawrence was David's partner, they had been together for over a year, but I was yet to met him. Lawrence and David seemed to travel together an awful lot, so it had been challenging to find time for us to get together.

"Have you seen it?" I asked.

"Of course," David replied. I was surprised. David was my older brother and had always been a little protective of me, especially since our parents died when I was 15 and he was 20. Maybe he had finally let that go considering I was now 26.

"You know I'd never wear something like that. It's gorgeous, but it's too revealing for me."

"Rowena, it's Halloween. It's an excuse for excess." I rolled my eyes. For David, being a day that ended in 'y' was an excuse for excess.

"Why does your boyfriend want to see me in this?" It just seemed over the top for a party. I gathered that Lawrence was wealthy, but still, it's just a Halloween party.

"Because he wants you to fit in. Honestly, you'll stick out less wearing that than anything else. Besides, no one knows you there, and you'll have a mask. Just pretend you're someone else."

I grumbled. "What time did Lawrence say the stylist was coming?"

Although I couldn't see him, I could hear David's victorious smile through the phone. "At six pm. The driver will be there at eight."

"That seems late, David," I said. "I won't arrive until nearly nine."

"I know, but that is Lawrence's style."

"Promise you won't leave me alone." I wasn't afraid of being alone at parties usually but by the sounds of this one, the dress and the fact that I was having my hair and makeup done professionally made it feel like a big deal.

"Lawrence and I will take good care of you," David promised.

I said my goodbyes and hung up the phone.

Feeling only a little more confident after the phone call, I jumped in the shower, washed my hair, and shaved my legs for the first time in weeks. I put on a robe and slippers and went up to the main house to see Charlie since I had half an hour to kill before the stylist arrived.

Charlie was staying there tonight with Alice while I went out. He had his own room and often slept there now that he was getting older and wanted space from me. Charlie and I mostly ate our meals up at the house and just kept basics in our two-bedroom flat above the old stables.

Charlie and Alice were sitting together at the dining table, playing with a random assortment of lego pieces. "Hey, Mum. I made this for you." Charlie handed me a flower made from the blocks. He was such a sweetheart of a boy.

"Awww, thanks, Babybear. I love it." I kissed the top of his head and sat with them.

"I thought you had to get ready for tonight," Alice asked.

"I have an hour," I replied.

"You're still going, aren't you?" Alice asked. She seemed more eager for me to go than I was. Alice was Charlie's paternal grandmother. Charlie's dad, Alex, had been my boyfriend when I was 17. Despite being on the pill, I fell pregnant, and Alex tried to pressure me into an abortion and refused to be a part of his life. Alice had been horrified by the way Alex had treated me. In an unexpected turn of events, she had stepped in to help raise Charlie. Charlie rarely saw Alex, but Alice saw that we both wanted nothing. The woman was a saint.

"Yeah," I said reluctantly.

"It'll be good for you," Alice said, squeezing my hand.

"I know." I sighed.

"Charlie, go get Nanny a glass of water, please. My throat is feeling dry," Alice said. She had something to say to me outside of Charlie's ears. Being a kind and helpful kid, Charlie immediately got up and went to get her one. He made me so proud.

As soon as he left the room, Alice said, "Rowena, don't feel guilty getting out there again."

"How can you say that?" I asked. I had tried dating a few times over the years. It always ended disastrously. Always my fault too. I had developed severe commitment issues.

"Charlie is my grandson, and I want his mother to be happy. Not lonely and depressed. It would be best if you had a life beyond Charlie. I've been telling you that for years."

Charlie came back with a book, and Alice read to him. As mothers often are, I was struck by how handsome my little boy was. His blonde sun-bleached hair and deep brown eyes were framed by a face that had lost nearly all of its childhood fat. At nine years old, he was almost as tall as me already, and he would probably take after his father in that regard. In fact, his eyes were the only thing that came from my side of the family as they were the same colour as David's and my Dad's. Charlie looked so much like his father, sometimes it hurts to look at him.

Kissing him again, on the cheek this time, I said goodbye to Charlie, told him to be a good boy for Nanny and went back to our flat above the garage.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I arrived at Lawrence's house not long after the sun had set. House was probably too humble a word to describe it. It was a borderline castle. I had thought Alice's family was wealthy, but this was another level. It was like something out of the Great Gatsby.

The car drove around the circular driveway and pulled up near the front door. A valet opened the car door, and he escorted me into the house, where he told my name to a butler who asked me to follow him.

Looking around the room, I was grateful to David for insisting I wear the dress. Everybody was dressed like it was a Hollywood awards show, and I mean everybody. Not to mention they all looked like actors or models. I had never in my life been around so many beautiful people. And I don't mean just beautiful because they were thin. There were people of all shapes and sizes, but everyone moved with grace and ethereal ease. They seemed so other.

This was crazy. Who the hell was my brother mixed up with? This whole night must have cost a fortune. Beyond a fortune! All for a Halloween party?

I was led from room to room, the house full of beautiful creatures. More than that, the house was decorated in a way that would put Versailles to shame. The decadence of the furnishings was lush and rich. Every piece seemed to be a precious antique but shone like it was brand new. Gold leaf decorated the cornices, and priceless framed artworks, tapestries and mirrors filled every wall. Even the wooden floor was an intricate parquetry design that appears to have taken years to lay.

At first, I thought I imagined it, but I noticed that everybody stared at me as I moved through each room. I felt heat rush to my cheeks. Did I look so different from everyone else? I supposed I did, but the eyes following me made me thankful for the mask.

After what seemed like hours but couldn't have been, I was taken to a large hall and presented. Yes, presented. What the fuck?

My escort stopped outside the room and spoke to a man standing just inside the door. The man rapped his cane on the floor three times and thundered, "Rowena, sister of David, Inamorato of Duke Lawrence." An eerie silence fell as every face turned to me. Some even bowed their heads. What on earth was going on?

"Rowena!" David was at my side, clutching my hands to his chest. "I've missed you so." He leaned over and kissed both my cheeks. Everybody in the room seemed to return to normal, and sounds of chatter resumed. David was wearing a mask and wore an elegant dark grey suit. He looked so different. David has always been handsome, but he looked so unlike his usual self, and I couldn't pinpoint the difference. I didn't even have the words to describe the change. I know it had been months since we had seen each other, but it wasn't that he had lost weight or gained muscle. What I could see of his face was inconsistent with my memories of him. Then I saw his eyes.

"David, what the..." David cut me off and embraced me. His smell was mouth-watering, and I wondered what cologne he was wearing. He had never smelt like that before.

"Come, meet Lawrence!" David exclaimed, gripping my hand tightly. Maybe he had put on muscle because he was stronger than I remembered.

David lead me further into the room. I followed, but my head was spinning. Why did everything look so beautiful but feel so... unreal?

"Lawrence, my love, this is Rowena," David said.

The man who sat before me took my breath away. I had no word to describe him other than impressive. He wasn't tall or large, but he seemed to take up all the space in the room as if by looking at him, your eyes couldn't see anything else. His skin was like a midnight sky lit up by the moon, which seemed to reflect the light as it was so smooth, flawless and radiant. His hair bounced with large curls, and although it was dark too, it seemed to shine with its own light.

As Lawrence stood, his movements were so polished they almost had a serpentine grace. His white lace mask framed his eyes, black with a red rim around the pupil, just like David's. Lawrence came towards me, and I was captivated, struck immobile by the force of his presence. Then all of a sudden, the fear left me as though it was never there. I sucked in air, not realising I hadn't taken a breath since I laid eyes on him.

Lawrence grasped my hands to his chest, just like my brother had. "Oh David, she is lovely, isn't she?" He lifted my hands to his lips and kissed both of them before lifting my arms wide and inspecting me. "She does look luscious in this dress. I do have excellent taste, do I not?"

I looked to David, who was beaming proudly like he had passed a test by bringing me here and meeting Lawrence's approval. Stunned, I looked again at David's smile. Something was wrong with it.

Lawrence was still talking, "You were right that she would be a hard one to crack. She seems to see many things others don't. Including you, by the way." David laughed at Lawrence's observation.

I tried to speak, to ask again what was going on, but nothing came out. I kept trying to breathe but I felt suffocated. The more I tried, the less air seemed to come in.

David grabbed my shoulders and caught my gaze. His voice was solid and musical, and the force of his words almost made me fall. "Rowena, it's alright. You can breathe." And all at once, I could.

"This dress is too tight." I managed to say.

"Nonsense," Lawrence said dismissively, "it's perfect. He is going to love it."

"He?" I questioned.

Lawrence sighed and glanced at David. They looked at each other for a few moments, then David took me by the arm and led me to a cluster of sofas. "Come, sister, sit with me and let's catch up."

Even the way he spoke seemed to change. It can't have been that long since I'd seen him. I thought back and realised I hadn't seen him in about two years. We occasionally spoke on the phone, but years had passed since I had physically seen him.

Lawrence left us mingled around the room, which I saw now was a ballroom. Some people danced, some drank wine, and others socialised. Something was wrong with all of it, but I couldn't put my finger on it.

David started to talk to me, asked me about little Charlie. I went to get my phone to show him some pictures and realised I must have left my bag in the limo. Before I could tell David that, he said, "never mind, the driver works for Lawrence. He has it. You can get it before you leave."

How did he know where I had left my phone? This was too much. "David, what's going on? There's something wrong here. This place is... off."

I suddenly felt bewildered, like I couldn't concentrate on anything. I felt a curious pull towards the back of the hall. I stood and looked back and started to walk towards the doors. It was like I was trapped in a gravitational pull towards... something. Without warning, a spontaneous feeling of arousal hit me, and my body was on fire. I let out an audible moan. I felt a desperate call come from between my legs to ease the rapidly growing craving. And not just by anyone, by Him. Wait, who was Him?

David held my arm and tried to lead me back, but I wouldn't allow it. I struggled for him to let me go. David was about to say something when another announcement was made, "The Crown Prince, Henry, Son of Alfred, King of all Sanguisuge."

I looked first to David to question what on earth that meant when I caught sight of the Prince.

It's Him.

I felt like I was falling, plummeting to the ground. The floor rushed to meet me, and my vision went dark.

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 3

@henryobsessed

#henry cavill #fanfic #alternate universe #Henry Cavill vampire #alexander skarsgard #werewolf #vampire #henry x ofc

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