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ellieslittlewh0re · 9 months

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𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢𝐧 (𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏)

* ೃ⁀➷ part 2 - part 3

pairings - farmers daughter! reader x farmhand! ellie

summary - your dad hires a stranger to help out around the farm

additional tags - inexperienced but flirty reader, shy/loser ellie, cowboy boot wearing ellie, mutual pinning, slight masturbation mention (e!), e! w/ a southern accent??, eventual smut, (nothing too crazy happens in this part it’s mostly just setting vibes lol)

Beads of sweat collected on the bridge of your nose, and your thighs stuck together as you sat on the porch swing, just lazily swinging back and forth, using your tippy toes to keep the momentum going.

You look out over the vast pasture- green as far as the eye can see, with nothing to distract from the country landscape except for some power lines out in the distance.

Even with the sun starting to set- it was still unbelievably hot.

"Keep goin' like that and you're gonna die of a heat stroke."

You yell to your father who was working under the hood of his rusty truck. Usually, he pays no mind to your nagging, but this time it seemed to work- or perhaps he was just finished for the night.

He shuts the hood, slamming it with a metallic thud before wiping his hands on a greasy rag.

His boots rang loudly against the hallow wooden stairs of the porch, looking down at you through bushy eyebrows.

"I don't need your sass, kid."

You roll your eyes at his comment. He's always been stubborn and tough, but in his old age, you can't help but worry. His cheeks have hallowed over the years, sun spots forming from the countless hours working on the farm, and his movements became slowed from the hard work catching up to him.

"I wouldn't sass if you'd just listen. Seriously, it's okay to hire someone to help. no one is gonna shame you for that." You pester affectionately, standing from the swing to open the screen door and enter the house with him following behind.

You follow him to the kitchen, listing all the reasons why he should have help.

One: he's getting old.

Two: his knee has never been the same since he had that operation done 4 years ago.

Three: the farm is too big and demanding to tend to alone.

"Okay- enough.. you sound just like your mother sometimes I swear." He hold a hand up, pausing you mid-ramble, and takes a sip from the glass he filled from the tap.

You pouted, and once again, your suggestions felt shot down.

He finishes the water, wiping his beard with the back of his hand.

"I actually have someone comin' by tomorrow. They were recommended t' me by Phillip at the feed store."

Your eyes lighten up, a smile grows on your face, and you finally feel like you can breathe, knowing that the hardships wouldn't be your dads alone anymore.

You rush around the kitchen island, placing a kiss to your dads cheek and squeezed him tight.

"Thank you! I can't wait- I'll have to bake em' something sweet tonight."

"Alright- settle down-" he pushes you away slightly with a smile on his weathered face. Truly an adoring annoyance that only a parent could love.

Your old man calls it a night, showering and off to bed he went, but you? Oh- you were busy. You tried your hardest to keep the sound down to a minimum, bowls, and kitchen utensils splayed on the counters.

A small apron draped around your waist, flour smudged on your cheekbone as you pulled the blueberry scones out of the oven. A satisfied smile grows on your face as you observe your work and finishing of the pastries with a dusting of powdered sugar.

Maybe, you were going a tad bit overboard, but the truth is, you were painfully lonely. The only time you had any visitors on the farm was when you held pumpkin patches in the fall, but even then, it was always young families that didn't bother to stay around for too long.

You go upstairs, a slight pep in your step as you did so. You showered and put in your favorite pajamas- a short, soft floral patterned dress with bows that secured the straps.

You tossed in bed, sleep not being in favor since your mind was still wide awake. You try to picture what they would look like- what they sounded like.

Was he tall? Around your age, or is he just another old man like your father? Maybe they're not a man at all.

It's best not to get ahead of yourself; whoever this person is, they are coming to work for your dad and not to become your friend.

You slept lightly, and your senses became more aware as a muted thud rang outside your second-story bedroom window. You open your eyes slowly, blinking away the sleepy confusion as dust particles dance in the sunbeams of your room.

It took you a few seconds to realize why today was so important, but once you remembered- it had you scattering out of bed to your window, pulling back the sheer laced curtains, and taking a peak outside.

There was a truck you didn't recognize parked in the driveway. It was slightly newer than your dad's, but that's not saying much; a simple 2-door with an extended bed, slightly lifted with sturdy-looking tires.

A slim figure stood next to the driver's side door, hands on their hips as they looked up at the house. To your surprise, it wasn't a man at all.

You squint, trying to get a better look at her without realizing how big of a creep you are being.

Her hair shined a brilliant shade of auburn in the morning light, a brown button up shirt with the sleep rolled up to her elbows, slightly flared and worn denim jeans hugged her hips with brown cowboy boots that seemed to match the leather of her belt.

You caught a glimpse of something on her arm, dark lines that disrupted her pale skin. It was a tattoo, although you could make out the details of the design.

She looked the part of someone who knows how to run a farm, but something about her seemed so out of place- almost like she was too pretty for such a dirty job.

While you were too busy eyeing her up and down, you didn't realize she had caught you. She put her hand up, holding it there for a second before bringing it back down to her side. You wave back, a slight wiggle of you fingertips which made her smile.

You watch her walk out of the frame of your window before sitting on the edge of your bed- your fingers grasping at the embroidered comforter. You had this weird feeling in your tummy; it was something you couldn't explain, almost like nausea but also like when you go on a big rollercoaster.

You felt nervous but excited all at the same time. You figured it was because she was around your age, maybe slightly older- shrugging it off as you got up and got ready for the day.

You brush your hair before tying it into two loose braids, finishing it with light pink ribbons at the ends. You wanted to put a little more effort into your appearance today since you're meeting someone new, and as daddy always said, "First impressions are the most important."

You take a deep breath in the last most of solitude of your room before making your way down the stairs, the conversation between the stranger and your father growing louder and louder from the kitchen as you inched closer.

"There she is-" your dad motions an arm in your direction, the stranger immediacy turning to meet your face.

"Ellie, this is my daughter, y/n, and y/n, this is Ellie."

"It's nice t' meet you, Ellie." You said in your sweetest voice you could muster as you walk towards her, holding a hand out.

"Likewise." She smiles, taking your hand in hers and shakes it firmly. She seemed respectful, maybe even a little flustered- seeing that her cheeks started to turn a deep shade of pink.

Upon seeing her closer, it didn't help settle your nerves. She was gorgeous; freckles adorned her alabaster skin, a scar that ran through her eyebrow and upper lip, and her eyes a mossy shade of green with dark, long lashes framing the shape.

She was honestly the prettiest girl you've ever seen but not in the same way you were often described. There was a boyish charm to her that you had never seen before.

"Well- best we get to it then." Your dad chimes in, causing you to let go of the calloused hand that you hadn't realized you were still holding onto.

"I'll see you around Ellie." You just barely make audible to her, bitting down on your bottom lip before turning on your heel and leaving them to do their jobs.

Ellie was almost speechless upon meeting you. Never in a million years did she ever think a girl like you could live in this small country town, but fuck, leave it to her luck- you were the boss's daughter, which means you were off limits.

You didn't make it easy on her either, prancing around in your little summer dress that flowed with your movements, rising dangerously high when you would turn around, almost giving her a peek of your ass.

Ellie swallowed hard each time, the saliva filling her mouth with all the dirty thoughts she had- which mostly consisted of you underneath her, completely naked and trembling after she forced a 4th orgasm out of you.

The sun was starting to set, blanketing the canvas in shades of orange and pink, and to your disappointment- Ellie would be leaving soon.

She was walking towards her truck, slightly dragging her feet from exhaustion, and you're happy she did so. It gave you enough time to run out of the house barefoot, container filled with the homemade goods in your hands.

"Ellie!-" you called out to her which made her turn around, her hand opening the driver side door.

You nearly bump into her, slightly out of breath as you held up the tupperware with both of your hands.

"Sorry- I made them last night, must've forgotten in to give 'em' to you earlier." Again, your voice is so sweet and innocent- like honey coated candies on her tongue.

A smirk grows on her face, taking the gift from you to inspect them.

"That's mighty kind of you.. oh no, are these blueberries?"

Your face contorts to concern, and Ellie can't help but think how fucking cute you look all worried like that.

"Yeah, why? Do you not like 'em?" You pout, almost like you're on the verge of tears

A low chuckle reverberates in her throat, "I'm just messing with you, doll. They look delicious."

"Meanie."

A few seconds of silence go by, and Ellie looks everywhere except your face, and I mean everywhere- including the plushness of your breast that spilled over the top of your dress - she couldn't have you knowing how red her cheeks are right now.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" She said it almost like a question- as if you'd miss out on such an opportunity.

"See you tomorrow, Ellie. Goodnight." You stand on your tippy toes, planting a quick kiss on the rounds of her cheeks, and run back inside, leaving Ellie in full panic mode.

She gets into her truck, taking a moment to herself before turning over the engine. Her fingers tighten around the steering wheel as she replays it in her head. She felt like she could combust, literally and figuratively- her head came down to rest on the wheel, and her cheeks ached from the smile that wouldn't seem to leave her lips.

In fact- she thought about it all night long. When she showered, when she laid in bed trying to sleep, she was tingling, an ache growing inside the depths of her stomach.

I mean, could you blame her? You didn't try to hide how hard you stared or how flirtatious you were towards her.

Maybe you were just like that with everyone.

Still- it didn't stop her. And It didn't stop her hand from slipping into the waistband of her checkered pajama pants, and it definitely didn't stop her from fingering herself to thoughts of you.

She came hard that night, harder than she had before, and she can't help but wonder- if simply her imagines of you felt this good, how would fucking you for real feel?

❥ taglist - @machetegirl109

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kyufessions · 8 months

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target run

synopsis: shopping with chenle can be exhausting, especially for your first apartment together

genre: fluff + angst with a happy ending

word count: 1.2k

pairings: non-idol, boyfriend! chenle x g.n. reader

a/n: falling down the chenle rabbit hole lately. sigh.

general taglist: @jwnghyuns • @eaudenana • @soobin-chois

One hour in and you were already growing a bit irritated with your boyfriend. Although you loved shopping, shopping with chenle was nearly impossible at times. When it came to where to shop, chenle liked more expensive stores while you like stores like target, ikea, places where everyone automatically thinks of when shopping for clothes or even furniture. Chenle prefers the luxury stores that are long out of the way; normally you would agree to go out of curiosity since you didn't grow up around that type of lifestyle, but today you insisted on taking him to target. And you were already regretting it. Sure, shopping for your first apartment together wasn't going to be easy but oh my gosh you didn't expect so much back and forth.

“How about this desk? I think it’d be great for the at-home office.” you suggested, eyeing a wooden desk with bottom drawers on each side that could fit a bunch of files from both of your jobs. Squatting down, you point out the bottom drawers and how wide the surface seems to be. “I think it could fit under the windowsill perfectly, too. And there seems to be a lot of space-”

“No, not enough space.” he says, not even giving it a glance. His eyes stayed glued to his phone as he scrolled doing whatever he was doing, eyes focused on his screen. “How about this one? It has drawer space on the top and is a two tiered one- each of us can have our own tier on the desk.”

Standing up with a sigh, you peak over his shoulder and look at the expensive desk. It was cherry wood and even though it was really nice, it was also really expensive- almost one thousand for it. “It's nice but-”

“Then let's buy it instead of this thing.” he starts pointing to the desk you were just referencing. “Or any of these,” his fingers starting pointing to each of the desks that target had to offer.

You just rolled your eyes and looked at the other desks, making a mental note of your favorite ones before moving onto the next aisle.

Hour two and Chenle was following behind you, continuing to scroll on his phone and finding bookshelves online he preferred and were more expensive. It's not that chenle liked buying expensive things just because he could, he just thought more expensive = better quality; he's stuck by that all his life.

“Babe, what about this one?” chenle asks, turning his phone to face you.

You turned to look at him with hope, thinking he had found a shelf he actually liked in this store. When you were met with his phone inches from your face, you just groaned and started walking away as you spoke, “you’re unbelieve, chenle.”

He grabs the shopping cart filled with nothing but hangers and bed liners, following behind you. “It's not that serious.”

Turning on your heel, you stop the cart with your hand and lean forward with annoyance steaming off of you. “You’re right, its not. But I just asked for one thing: to pick some furniture out at target. That's all I wanted. And you can’t even agree with me on one thing for our first apartment. It might not seem important right now, but how you are reacting now could be a potential prediction of the future when it comes to other situations-”

“Woah woah, y/n.” chenle interrupted, quickly being interrupted himself.

“And stop interrupting me, I hate that. Just,” pausing, you took a quick harsh breath in. “Just let me be by myself for a bit.”

Hour three and you sat at the starbucks by yourself, reading a book you bought in the entertainment section just to pass the time. Normally you don't tend to get upset by such things, but with your last semester creeping up, your job overworking you before the semester starts, and this move-in with your long time boyfriend it’s all starting to pile on top of each other and mix together. You had asked chenle for one thing: to pick out some furniture from target. Not all, of course. But some stuff for the second bedroom in your apartment you were going to turn into an at home office for you both to use when needed. Chenle was hesitant at first but after explaining it would only be for that one room, he agreed.

In your relationship with him, everything was always equal- everything was quite lovely. Not in the past three years have you ever had a huge argument like this, especially in public. Communication has always been you and chenle’s strongest suit, so arguments were minimal and worked out right away.

When the forty minute mark almost hit, chenle got in line at the starbucks and ordered himself a refresher and bought you your favorite flavored cake pop. once he retrieved both, he sat down across from you as he slid the cake pop in your direction. Startled, you looked up cautiously and saw your boyfriend with a shy grin- unsure of how to start the conversation. For a few seconds you just stare at one another, not a word being said or any specific facial expressions being shared.

“I’m sorry.” was all you heard from him as you took the cake pop out of the bag. looking up, you motioned for him to continue as you took a bite from the ear of the so-called ‘bee’. he cleared his throat, pushing back his hair out of nervousness. “I just like giving you what you didn’t have growing up; I want to give you everything I'm able to.”

Nodding, you quickly swallow a small piece of your cake pop before responding. “I appreciate the chenle, but i still feel bad when you pay for things. And now that I have a somewhat decent paying job, I want to pay you back for everything you've done for me these past three years.” gradually reaching for his hand, you begin rubbing small circles into the back of it. Neither of you were one for any extent of PDA, but in this moment it just felt right to do. “I appreciate you looking out for me, baby. But next time can you explain that to me instead of being an asshole? I was about to fight you in the home goods aisle of target of all places. I, unfortunately, do not want to be known as the couple who fought in the middle of the target.”

Chenle chuckles, his heart warming smile causing your heart to skip a beat. Three years and you never got sick of seeing it- you hope to see that smile for the rest of your life. “What couple do you want to be known as?” He follows you to the garbage and grabs your book, putting it in the top part of the shopping cart he had with him.

Playfully thinking as you throw your garbage away and start walking towards the forbidden home goods section, you turn to him with a small grin. “The annoying, crazy couple with three cats and two dogs.”

He nods, following behind you with the cart and that same smile. “I'd like that.”

#kyufessions nct #nct #nct dream #nct chenle #nct dream chenle #zhong chenle #chenle #chenle fluff #chenle angst

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moremaybank · 8 months

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UNDERCOVER — j.m

day five how you get the girl with jj maybank

pairing jj maybank x fem!reader

summary you and jj navigate through the changing feelings of your friendship.

warnings fluff, mutual pining, mentions of a physical fight (reader), smoking a joint, i think that's all but let me know.

obx week ‘23 masterlist ;; jj masterlist

JJ had never been one to crack open a book. He rarely did so for school, and never did so for leisure.

You, on the other hand, were your happiest when you were curled up with a good romance novel propped up in your lap.

One afternoon, you’d dragged JJ to the bookstore over on Figure Eight. The scent of aged paper and the soft creak of the wooden floorboards flooded your senses as you perused the shelves. JJ lingered behind you, watching your fingertips glide over the spines of each book and carefully removing the ones you planned to buy.

By the time your arms were filled with books (not including the ones JJ had taken over for you), you made your way up to the cash register. Your eyes locked on a novel you’d sought after for ages, and you pouted.

“Damn it. The one time it’s here and I’m already over my monthly budget.”

JJ listened intently. He didn’t say much, but he made a mental note of your wish and stored it in his memory bank for later.

Two weeks after, you received a mysterious package lying on your front porch. You opened it once you got inside, and you were greeted by the sight of the very same book you’d longed for but weren’t able to take home with you.

A handwritten note accompanied the gift: “Happy reading, pretty girl. From, JJ.”

Happy tears welled up in your eyes as you held the book close to your heart. JJ had not only listened to your words, but had taken the time, effort and last few scraps of his money he had to fulfill your wish. The cherished gesture spoke volumes about how he cared for you, how he’d do anything to see that stunning smile on your face. It was the kind of thoughtfulness that made you rethink your connection with him.

That evening, you showed up to the chateau unannounced. You pulled JJ into your arms, squeezing him so tightly that his organs felt as if they were shifting. You pressed three kisses to his cheek, hearing his melodious laughter filling your ears.

“Woah, what’s with all the love?”

Your hands braced on either side of his neck. “You got me my book. You’re amazing.”

He shrugged casually. “It wasn’t a big deal, princess. I know you were bummed that day when you couldn’t get it. Just wanted to do somethin’ nice for you. You deserve it.”

“Well, well. How the tables have turned.” JJ couldn’t wipe the smirk off his face as he tended to the cut etched over your cheekbone. He’d placed an ice pack over your bruising knuckles, and was now using a q-tip to clean and disinfect the small gash on your face.

“Shut up, JJ.”

“‘M just sayin’. You’re always scolding me for picking fights, and yet, here you are doin’ the same.”

He was right. You did lecture him every time he got into a fight with someone the way a parent would with their child. You'd be fuming, telling him that he shouldn't let people's comments get to him, that they aren't worth his time.

You shot him an irritated glare. “Watch it, or you’re next.”

“Woah. Cool it, Southpaw. No need to get feisty.”

He was enjoying every second of that role reversal far too much. The permanent smile on his lips was enough proof of that fact.

JJ helped you off the counter, holding your hips steadily as he walked behind you and followed you into your bedroom. You both got all cozy beneath your comforter, and JJ’s arm slung itself over your shoulders.

“You could’ve taken it easy on her, though. You yanked her hair out.”

“And I’d do it again. She was a bitch,” you huffed.

“So you really aren’t gonna tell me what happened, then?” He asked, watching as you flipped your TV on and started to scroll through Netflix in search of something to watch together.

You hadn’t told JJ that the reason the fight broke out was because that poor girl had made the mistake of telling you that JJ would never be interested in you. That she’d done all sorts of dirty things with him, and you’d never get to say the same. That you were a fool to even have eyes for him.

“It was dumb. She just, she pushed my buttons, that’s all.”

The hand on your shoulder moved to smooth down the hair atop your head. “Well, fuck her.”

“Why? You already did.”

He could sense the icy tone in your voice, and he felt your body grow rigid. His brows furrowed. “What? No I didn’t.”

It was your turn to be confused. “What do you mean?”

“Dude, I don’t even know her name. I’ve seen her a few times at the boneyard, but, I’ve never hooked up with her. Never even spoke to her.”

Your silence was enough to tell him that he’d been the reason you got into that tussle. The same smirk from earlier found his lips again, and he pulled you closer into him.

“You tellin’ me you got into that fight ‘cause you were jealous, pretty girl?”

You kept your focus on the TV, muttering at him to be quiet.

He laughed softly, using his other hand to turn your face toward him. His bright eyes found your nervous ones, and he gave you a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, princess. I wouldn't choose anyone over you.”

And with that, he turned his attention to the show you’d chosen as if what he’d just said had been a casual thing. Your heart stammered, and butterflies erupted in your stomach.

Did this mean you had a chance?

You were laying in the hammock at the chateau, smoking a joint that’d you’d stolen from JJ’s stash. The gentle sway and creaking of the ropes were a comforting sound. Your mind was lost deep in thought, and the subject taking up your mind was none other than JJ. Lately, things had been changing between the two of you, and you couldn’t help wonder where it was all heading.

As if he sensed your crowded mind, JJ appeared as he hopped down the stairs outside and approached you with a comforting grin. He plucked the joint from your fingertips, hitting it and exhaling the smoke with a chuckle when you frowned at him.

“Hey. I was smoking that.”

“It’s mine now.”

After the two of you finished smoking, he put the joint out and he extended a hand toward you. “Come on. Take a ride with me.”

You accepted his hand and let him guide you to the pogue. The anticipation built in your chest as the two of you glided across the water of the marsh. The breeze tousled your hair, and the stars were beginning to take over the sky, sparkling beautifully.

JJ was the first to break the silence. “You looked like you had a lot on your mind back there. You wanna tell me what’s goin’ on?”

You gave him a faint smile. “Just thinking about stuff.”

He raised an eyebrow, the curiosity in his face evident, even in the dark. “Stuff, huh? Care to expand on that?”

He was always so perceptive, especially when it came to you, so it was a difficult task to hide anything from him. You took a deep breath and decided to take a chance. “I’ve been thinking about us, J. It just, it feels like there’s something more going on with us lately, and I can’t help but wonder where its’ going.”

JJ leaned back against the chair beside you, looking into your gaze nervously. “You noticed that too, huh?”

You nodded, your heart now in your throat. You couldn’t tell if his response was a positive or negative one. “Yeah, and I don’t know about you, but it’s been driving me a little crazy.”

“Well, pretty girl, since we’re both goin’ a little crazy, how about we do something about it?”

A puzzled look washed over your features. “What do you mean?”

He hooked index finger under your chin and used it to fix your gaze on him. Then, his hand moved to cup your cheek. His thumb smoothed atop your cheekbone, and before you knew it, his lips met yours. The kiss was soft and sweet, full of all the yearning the two of you had felt for the past couple of months. Your cheeks flushed with warmth as your hand found the back of his neck, and your fingertips wove into the hair that sat at the nape of his neck. You urged him closer to you, and melted fully into the sweet moment.

Breaking away, he smiled at you. “There’s somethin’ here, princess. Somethin’ special, and I really don’t wanna hide from it anymore. I like you. Like, a lot.”

Your heart soared. “I feel the same way, J. I have for awhile now.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded with a shy smile. “Yeah.”

You two shared another intimate kiss, this time throwing yourselves into it completely as you were now devoid of the fear that had been holding you back for so long. His touch was warm, and everything felt so right. There wasn’t anyone else you wanted like this, no place you’d rather be. All you wanted was JJ, and all JJ wanted was you.

“So, like, you’re my girlfriend now, right?”

You laugh softly. “I better be after that kiss.”

JJ TAG LIST (JOIN HERE!): @oncasette @taintedxkisses @maybankslover @goldenroutledge @penny4yourthoughts @bmo-bri @hemogloban @princessbetsy123-blog @slytherhoes @whoisdrewstarkey @aliyahsomerhalder @dreamingwithrafe @vigilanteshitposting @poppet05 @wildflwrdarlin @adoreyouusugar @f4ll-for-you @tell-me-when-ur-ready @bbycowboi @venomwh0re @jjmaybankisbae @enhypens-hoe @loverofdrewstarkey @earth2starkey @angelofcigs @glen-powells @papillonoirsworld @koalalafications @aerangi @cantstoptheimagines @bloody-mf-bsc @maybanksbabe @sarah5462 @slut4drudy @lvvrgrl @dancinglikeaballerina @somerandos-world @shahanaazsoumah

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hiveworks · 8 months

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Convention Guide: Basic Tabling Gear

September 2023

Whether you’re an artist alley newbie or you’ve been doing the convention circuit for years, putting together your table essentials is a crucial part of selling your wares at events and ensuring your weekend goes smoothly. In this guide, we’re covering the basics of setting up your first ever table.

This list is a non comprehensive assessment of things a tabler might need and should be used as a simple starting point. The four main categories we will cover are:

The Display

Behind the Table

Money

Quality of Life Suggestions

—🐝—

1. The Display

a) Tablecloth

Starting from the base layer, we’ve got tablecloths– an easy way to add some color and personality to your table. Your tablecloth doesn’t even have to be an actual tablecloth! You can use a length of fabric cut from a bolt at your local craft store. Convention tables tend to be 6’ long, so when selecting your fabric, look for measurements longer than 72” (183cm).

Play with color and texture to find something that fits the theme of your work on display. Patterns can be fun, but might distract from your inventory or signage if the colors/design are too bold and busy. Tip: your cloth may get messy from food behind the scenes or dust/dirt if you do outdoor events. Get something that’s easy to wash in your machine!

b) Display supports

Most artists these days use cube organizers that break apart into flat panels and connector joints. They are easy to store when not in use, easy to transport in a suitcase or tote, and you can change the shape depending on your table set up and inventory. Tip: constructing your display to include shelves that face you behind the table helps organize your backstock during the show.

These cubes aren’t your only option. Some people use milk crates, picture frames, wooden boxes, custom built shelves, etc. Consider what works best for you, your aesthetic, and your storage/transportation needs. When in doubt, you can always lay your goods flat on the table.

c) Signage

Having clear signage on your items to denote price helps people feel more comfortable purchasing from your table. Your price markers don’t have to be fancy. Prices written neatly on pieces of paper and paperclipped to your books or taped up next to your stickers is a simple and effective strategy. Some people print out a price list or use a sign board. It’s totally up to you!

Include a sign with your name somewhere in your display, including your social media handle if it is different from your artist name. This will help fans of your work more easily recognize you. Tip: use a QR code prominently displayed on your table that links to your portfolio, linktree, etc.

d) Banner/backdrop

Look out behind you! Whether it’s a banner, a backdrop, or something else, the space behind your seat can be put to use. While it is relatively easy to print custom banners at most print shops, many tablers cite this as an unnecessary expense, especially for first time artist alley participants. If you’d like to hang a collage of your work behind you, look for photography backdrop tripods, which can collapse and fold up neatly. The behind-the-table space is shared with other artists, and it can get cramped. Be mindful of your needs when deciding how to do a backdrop. Some artists opt to exclude a backdrop and just use their cubes to arch over them.

Optional: Decorate your table! Flowers, string lights, plushies, etc. can all bring a special one of a kind experience to your set up.

2. Behind The Table

a) Inventory

Now that we’re behind the table, let’s talk about what’s going on back here. Starting with inventory. If you’re absolutely unsure how much to bring, a good starting number is about 10 of each item. If you sell out, congratulations! You’ll know what to bring more of next time, or you’ll know you should raise your prices. For storing inventory during transportation to the con and while at the show, you might consider simple boxes, an accordion folder, or a portfolio case, depending on what kind of items you’re bringing. Reminder: if you’re using display cubes, structuring them to give you shelves on your side of the table will help you keep things organized.

b) Suitcase/storage tote

Under your feet will be your suitcase/tote box, and perhaps a dolly, if you used one to wheel your boxes into the building. It is recommended that your suitcase/tote has a lock on it, as you’ll be leaving inventory overnight. Hopefully no matter what you use, it has wheels of some kind. All this gear gets heavy. If you are not using a wheeled device, make sure to check your pack’s weight as you assemble your supplies. You will have to carry it from the parking garage or bus stop through the convention center, and back out again at the end of the show.

c) Cover cloth

What else is in that box? Your cover cloth. This one is optional, but some artists like having a lightweight cloth to cover their table when the day is done. Something like a vinyl picnic tablecloth works perfectly. The cover cloth helps prevent anyone from accidentally knocking your things over or having things go missing.

d) Business cards

On your side of the table, you ought to have plenty of back up business cards. You’ll have some of these out on the table for passersby to pick up, but this item is the number one thing you’re going to hand out the most of. It’s always better to have too many rather than too few. For a single three day convention, you might need 200+ cards. Make sure your website/online shop is easy to find on your cards. Cute business cards go a long way to making your table memorable long after the con has ended.

Bonus supplies: Here’s a short list of things you might need throughout the weekend to touch up your display. Keep them in a bag and bring them with you every time you table!

Masking and clear tape

Spare paper for impromptu signage

Sharpies and pens

Zip ties

Scissors

3. Money

a) Card reader

The most commonly used card reader is Square, but there are alternatives. Research their fees and prices to determine what fits your needs. You’ll want to get a hold of a card reader and set up your account well in advance of your show. Card readers require wifi/data to work and will only work in your country of business, so take that into consideration when packing for your show. Most convention halls have wifi (sometimes at a cost), but if your show is outdoors you might be relying on data.

b) Cash/change

Cash is king! Make sure to bring enough cash/change for your show. About $25-50 in small bills is usually enough if you’re also accepting card. At the end of the day, consider tucking your big bills away in a secure location in your hotel room. If something were to happen to your bag, you’ll appreciate not having your entire weekend’s earnings in it!

c) Fanny pack

Keeping your cash attached to you at all times is smart. People often use fanny packs or cross body bags to manage their money.

4. Quality of Life

a) Backup battery

Since you may be using your phone to complete transactions, or maybe you’re drawing on your iPad with time to kill, you’ll want to bring a back up battery. Most tables don’t have access to electricity, so having a battery and charging cables is a good idea.

b) Hand sanitizer & masks

One hand sani pump out front and one behind the table. You’ll be handling money, shaking hands with strangers, and touching surfaces that thousands of people have been touching all day. As long as there have been conventions, there have been con plagues. You don’t want to get knocked out with a cold (or worse) so masking is great!

c) Table buddy

If you’re able to, bring a friend to help you table. Cons will often give tablers 2 passes (one for you and one for a friend). They can help you grab coffee or lunch, get change, package a big purchase, cover you for bathroom breaks, etc. Table buddies are truly the unsung heroes of artist alley.

d) No table buddy? No problem.

Check in with con staff and volunteers. Many comic cons will have a green room for artists to take a snack break and decompress, and con staff will help guide you there. Some conventions also enlist volunteers to help sit your table while you’re away. They’ll make sure your table stays in order, direct people to your business cards, and inform curious patrons when to expect you back.

e) Fun stuff!

There will be plenty of downtime. Con hours are long and often slow in the mornings. Bring something to keep you occupied, but not too engrossed, so you can easily pull away to greet customers and fans. Fidget toys, a puzzle book, knitting or crochet project are all great ideas.

f) Get Comfy, Eat Well, Stay Hydrated

Going from your quiet desk to the high octane energy of artist alley can be a shock to the system. Some items to help reduce the fatigue are: noise canceling headphones during downtime and breaks, sunglasses to combat the fluorescent lights and rest your eyes, slippers or comfy shoes for under the table, and layers of clothing. Convention halls can fluctuate temperatures wildly. With lots of AC during the summer, sweaty crowds, and the flow of traffic to your table, you’ll be working up a sweat fulfilling transactions one second then freezing after sitting still for a minute.

Most importantly, have a small cooler with snacks and drinks. You may not get a break, but it’s important to stay hydrated and energized.

—🐝—

The next time you're at a convention, take note of displays that inspire you. #ArtistAlley and #ConTable tags on Instagram or TikTok can connect you with creators sharing their setups. Your table design is an opportunity to be creative and express yourself, while also learning along the way what works for you. Most tables, however, are built up over several convention seasons of trial and error, so while it’s good to take note of others' displays as a source of inspiration, try to keep your first table relatively simple. The more you table, the more you’ll be able to identify your needs for you and your merchandise.

We’ll close out this blog post with one final suggestion. Big, multi-day conventions can be fun, but they can also be expensive. Your tabling supplies and inventory aside, if you’re doing a show away from home, you’ll contend with table fees (often $250-450 USD), hotel, transportation, meals, etc. And not every convention is a good fit for your wares! Small, local events and art festivals are a great, low stakes, relatively cheap (or free) way to start tabling. Check your area for zine fests, queer makers markets, and craft fairs.

Sound off if there’s anything we missed! Good luck on your tabling adventures.

#tabling #convention #comic con #artist alley #hiveworks #blog

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clumsiestgiantess · 3 months

Text

Lots of people wanted a continuation to the short I made for @entomolog-t’s prompt, so here you are! I already had ideas for a second part the moment I finished the first one!

(First part here)

I was so tired the night of my disappearing act that I barely made it to the scraps of insulated fabric I call my bed. Just as my head hit the comfortable fluff, a thud echoed above my head and I dashed to the doorway in seconds, heart racing. More thuds rumbled over the floorboards as I stood frozen looking fearfully upwards — believing Alice somehow knows where I am, and is trying to pry up the wooden planks to get to me. Faintly, I can hear her muffled voice. “Please, I know you’re scared, but hiding isn’t going to do either of us any good! Just come out; I swear I’m not dangerous!”

Oh. She’s probably crawling around on the floor trying to find me. Well, unless she can crawl beneath it, she’ll have a tough time finding anything but dust! I sneered at the thought, trying to reassure myself enough to get back in bed. I’m safe now. She’s not going to find me here. However, no matter how many fabric scraps I press over my ears, I can’t drown out enough noise for me to sleep. Even when I lay on the cold floor with everything over my head until I’m nearly suffocating, I can still feel the vibrations of Alice moving around. Just go to sleep already! Thud around all you like in the morning when I leave for the day! Regardless of my mental harassment of her, the human didn’t give up until it was early morning.

Finally, I have peace and quiet, and I fall asleep in record time. Come morning, the house is still silent as ever. I wake up with a gnawing ache in my chest. Briefly, I think it’s guilt over what I’d done the day before — turns out it was just hunger. I’d run away before getting to eat yesterday. Thankfully, I have some provisions that I’ve stored away for emergencies. I grab a few crackers and glance at the little watch piece that’s fastened to the wall. Oh, what?! I slept in! I usually never sleep in! My natural alarm wakes me up at almost the exact time every day. Then again, I’m usually asleep much earlier than last night, too.

No wonder the floor is so quiet; Alice is probably out of the house by now, or in her room working on human things. Quickly finishing breakfast, I slip on my bag and head out to the large kitchen. Now that my emergency stash of food is diminished, I’m a bit anxious to get it stocked again. I walk the same trek I’d sleepily walked the night before, but stop at the end of the hall where the electrical cover sits. Maybe I’ll.. go a different way.

Taking the long way through the walls, I come out inside a cabinet with windowed doors. Reaching out to push one open, I glance out of it and flinch. With cautious steps, I slide backward behind some cups. Alice is in the room. None of her usual music is playing, she isn’t watching videos on her phone, she isn’t talking to herself or a friend on the phone, either. She’s just sitting there with what appears to be her breakfast, staring numbly at a wall. Huh. Whatever ‘exams’ are, they really seem to be stressing her out. Usually she’s done with breakfast by now.

Her strange behavior can’t be because of me. She had spent less than twelve hours with me, and most of that time she spent ignoring me. Logically, she wouldn’t be that upset over someone she barely knew, right? She’d given up her search hours ago when she finally stopped keeping me up all night.

A while later, she leaves. It’s strange, though. Alice steps lightly across the room, glancing around the floor before each step. Maybe she lost something important? That tends to make humans fairly stressed. Hell, it makes me stressed. If a human’s missing something, it might mean I made a bad judgment call on what I could take without being noticed.

My nerves settle when the sound of her footsteps fade off. Back to business. My day runs relatively smoothly from there. Of course, I had to come across a knot or two in my climbing rope mid-scale, which I wasn’t too happy about. After collecting up some food, I spent a long while getting the knots to untie. It’s always best to get them out before you make a climb, that way your weight won’t tug them tighter. It was too late for that lesson to come in handy, though.

My next chore on the list is borrowing some more thread to stitch winter linings back into my clothes. The winter weather caught me by surprise. It had come earlier than I thought, and I’d nearly died because of it. Briefly, blurry visions of the inside of that knitted hat fade in and out of my consciousness. I nearly froze to death that night. If the thing hadn’t been left there accidentally, I wouldn’t have made it long enough to even try to get help. Blinking away the memories, I realized I was shivering and rubbed my hands over my arms for a bit more warmth, reminding myself that I’m safe here. The apartment never gets that cold. Ever.

At my home under the floors that afternoon, I gather up the materials I already collected. I have the fluffy inner lining that I’d taken from an old coat Alice left in a storage bin — I’ve been using it as bedding — my knife to cut everything to size, and a smaller needle I’d whittled out of a long chunk of wood. Now all I need is the thread.

Back in my little passages, I head in the opposite direction through the floor. I slow as I make my way up into the walls towards Alice’s room. Unfortunately, that’s where the sewing kit is, directly under her bed. Alice will be there for sure. Whatever she’s working on this time must be important. I haven’t heard her leave her room all day since I saw her walk in this morning. She hasn’t even gotten lunch. Maybe she has a snack on her desk! Perhaps when she’s asleep or out of the house I’ll steal some of it.

Sliding out of a crack in the baseboards behind a large bookshelf, I creep up to the very edge of it and scan the room. Sure enough, Alice is there doing schoolwork, watching a video on something called ‘trigonometry’ that I can barely pronounce — I don’t dare try to imagine what it actually is. At least she’s not being unnervingly still anymore.

I dart from my place beneath the bookshelf to beneath her bed. The sewing kit sits further towards the wall, right beside her desk. Alice seems distracted enough, scribbling down something while mumbling about things I don’t understand. She does that often enough that it isn’t as concerning as this morning. Maybe she’s finally returning to normal. That’s a relief. A human on a schedule is a good human to live with. Memorize it, use it to your advantage, and you’ll practically own the place — at least while they’re not around.

Making my way to the box, I wait for the video to start playing again before popping open the lid — timing it so she doesn’t pick up the noise amidst the other sounds she’s concentrating on. Sliding a few things around, I manage a clear path to the spool I want. Rummaging through various different items larger than yourself is no easy task, but I make it look practically effortless. A shrunken human would never be able to do half the things I do on a daily basis, I think with a smirk. I yank out the spool of thread and reach for my knife.

“No! What? How?! I used the same formula and everything!” I flinch as Alice yells, her angry voice edged with dismay. Cautiously, I tiptoe over to the side of her bedframe and glance up at her. She’s frantically writing something down, biting at her bottom lip with furrowed brows. Whatever it is, she isn’t too happy about it. I’m just about to continue my work when she glances over at the computer screen again. “What the heck?!” Furiously, she crumples her paper into a crushed ball, looking ready to throw it across the room in a fit of rage. I brace myself instinctively, thankful I hadn’t stuck around to anger her.

Suddenly, a sob wrenches out of Alice’s throat, catching me entirely by surprise. She curls her arms around her head as it falls to the surface of the desk. The paper ball drops dully to the floor. Her whole body shakes as she cries onto her desk, and my relief drops into a muted kind of confusion. “I’m gonna fail,” she whimpers, “I can’t do this. Why is everything going so wrong? I just wanted to help him; why’d he run away? I feel sick. What if he’s hurt somewhere and can’t call for help? What if he’s too scared to call for help?”

She.. really is worried about me. So worried that she’s acting like a complete mess — and not the silly endearing mess I’m fond of her for. If my disappearance amplifies her worries over these exams… Well, she didn’t tell me what would happen if she failed them, just that she couldn’t. I abandon the thread I’m after and rush for the crack in the wall behind the bookshelf. A plan’s forming in my mind. It might backfire horribly, but I’m hoping it’ll work. Alice is much too distracted for me to even bother checking if the coast is clear. Her light sobs still echo against the surface of her desk.

I slip between the two halves of the wall and take a large calming breath. Then I start shouting. “Alice! It’s ok, I-” The human sits up so abruptly I stop talking fearfully. I don’t know how beings as big as her can move so quickly. She scans the floor of the entire room in only a few seconds. Of course, I’m smart enough not to be in plain sight. “Hello?” Alice’s voice is slightly muffled like her nose is stuffy. I swallow a lump that formed in my throat. “It’s.. It’s ok. It’s me, the ‘little guy’.” Alice hastily rubs away her tears and stands up. “You’re… alright?” she asks me, glancing around. “Yeah.”

“Oh thank god!” Alice gasps, relieved. “You made me so worried for you! Are you hungry still? I- I know you haven’t eaten in a while since you.. ran off when I tried to get something for you.”

The room falls into an awkward silence. I can’t see much of her from beneath the bookshelf, but I watch Alice nervously shuffle from foot to foot — waiting for my response. She can’t stay silent for very long, though. “Look, I’m sorry I scared you off… I don’t know what happened, but I’m willing to work with you to try and get your memories and your old life back. I can’t imagine how terrifying it is to suddenly be so small, not even knowing how you got that way-”

“Stop.” Alice quieted at the single word. “That’s.. a lie. I remember everything just fine.” I want to say that I’m not terrified of being small either, but I can’t bring myself to say it. Even if I’ve lived my whole life this way, I still have my moments. Yesterday and that whole escapade with the freezing car was one of the worst of them. “So.. you just didn’t want to tell me how you shrank?” I sigh, “No.. Alice, I- I never shrank. I’ve always been this way.” She starts and stops talking a few different times — syllables barely leaving her mouth. “I’m not human, Alice.”

The silence that follows is worse than the last. It feels almost suffocating. A gentle thud reverberates over the floorboards and I peer out. Alice is kneeling on the floor, leaning down to peer under the bookshelf. Quickly, I duck back behind the wall. “Is that why you left?” Her voice softens, tears entirely gone. “I promised I wouldn’t hurt you.” “You promised the tiny human me that you wouldn’t hurt me.” I glance out of my hiding spot just as Alice’s gaze wanders, thinking through something.

“You thought I would go back on my word if I knew you were lying to me? Or you just.. thought that I wouldn’t care because you’re not human?” she asks me, sounding hurt. I feel almost chastised. Her gaze flickers to me. “I promised you that I wouldn’t hurt you. You. No matter who or what you were. I’m a bit upset you wanted to lie to me about… everything. But I can’t be mad at you for being scared of me. I won’t ask you to talk to me anymore if you don’t want to, but just know, I’m glad you’re alright.”

Tears of relief well in my eyes and my throat tightens. Tentatively, I slide out from within the crack in the wall. “You- You really mean that? You don’t care that I’m not one of you?” A small smile spreads over Alice’s lips. Of course not, don’t be silly! You’re safe here, I promise. I understand if you want to go home, though. You probably have others of your kind to get back to, and I’ve accidentally trapped you in my house.” I glance away sheepishly, “Well, about that… I kind of.. live here.” “What?!”

I end up telling her every part of the truth — how I really got into her car, where I’d gone to when I ran off — everything. “I actually did remember my name. It’s just.. not really a human-sounding one, so I couldn’t exactly give you it. My name’s Fennel, but I mostly just go by Fen.” “Fen?” she asks a bit confusedly. I nod. “Nice to finally really meet you!” Alice laughs, “How long have you been living here.. with me?” I think back. “I moved in after you were already here, but you were still unpacking things, so I don’t think it was very far off from when you moved in, too.” Alice makes a surprised noise. “Where were you living before?” “Eh, another apartment in this building. The new people were too loud, so I moved out.” She giggled, “I wish I could just pack up and slip into a new home whenever I have problems with the neighbors.” I sigh, “It’s harder than it seems; I have to rebuild a livable space for myself every time.” Alice nods thoughtfully, sitting back up. Some of her bones crack as she does, and I flinch.

“Hey, if you don’t mind, can you maybe come out from beneath there? It hurts my back to try to bend all the way to the floor to look at you.” She won’t hurt you, she won’t hurt you, she won’t hurt you. “Alright.” With slow deliberate steps I make my way out from beneath the bookshelf. Alice sits a foot away from me. I have to crane my neck back vertically to see her face, peering almost all the way downward at me. She offers me the palm of her hand. “Can I hold you? Please?” My heartbeat thunders so loudly I almost don’t hear what she asks. Cautiously, I nod and step up onto her hand, raised just a bit higher than a stair. She won’t hurt you, she won’t hurt you, she won’t hurt you.

I’ve never interacted with a human before her, but I’ve seen it happen before. My brother — well, he wasn’t actually my brother, but we always called eachother that — had been found by a human. I was there. It was pitch dark, perfect time for borrowing. We’d forgotten a light, but Gin scoffed at the idea of going back for one — until he stepped into a mouse trap. Every once and a while I’ll still hear the awful noise made when the trap snapped closed on him. The human came running when they heard the gargled shriek, and the last thing he told me was to leave him there. The metal beam that had crunched around his midsection somehow hadn’t killed him, but his body was far from unharmed.

From a grate in the floor nearby, I watched as the human found him, ensured him things would be alright, and pulled him out of the trap — tearing him in two. In hindsight, I don’t think the human meant to kill him. They screamed and dropped the half of him they were holding. I was too stricken and horrified to process that in the moment, so I just ran.

“Fen?” I flinched so violently I nearly knocked myself in the face with my hand, instinctively trying to cover my head with my arms. “Are you ok? You look sick. If this makes you uncomfortable, I can put you back down. You didn’t have to get on.” It’s just like in the car — her blue-eyed gaze looking me over with genuine concern. “I- I’m alright.” She gently shakes her head. “You aren’t, though. You’re shaking.” The gentlest pressure alights on my chest as a soft finger brushes up against it. “And your heart’s beating really fast.” Her touch is so soft — incredibly cautious like she’s holding something precious and delicate. Maybe I am, to her. It’s nothing like what I had imagined a human would feel like, nothing at all.

In a brief moment of weakness, my eyes tear up and I squeeze her finger closer, pressing my forehead against it. It is absolutely terrifying thinking about where I am. I’ve spent all my life believing it’s a place of certain death. Why is it so comfortable? All Alice would have to do to hurt me is close her fist and squeeze. My fate wouldn’t be that much different than Gin’s. She won’t hurt you, she won’t hurt you, she won’t hurt you.

Everything shifts around me and I rush to get out of her grip, immediately fearing that my imagination somehow willed an awful reality. But Alice brings me up to her chest and holds me gently against it. She tucks me against her sternum as her head comes to rest behind her hands that hold me. “It’s alright now.” I’m not sure if she’s assuring me, or herself, but I accept it and bring myself snugly against her. It’s blissfully warm there. While the walls where I live aren’t nearly as freezing as the outdoors, they’re still plenty cold. The heat is more than welcome. My wild pulse softens into a much normal rhythm while I listen to Alice’s own heartbeat thrumming beneath her skin.

Things are fuzzy in my mind beyond that moment. I’ve been up for a full twenty-four hours, and the night before was only worse than the last. I remember stumbling off her palm onto her desk, watching dazedly as Alice looked around the room for something. She finds it and places it down for me. It’s a little blanket folded over so it can be both a mattress and blanket at the same time. I crawl into it, listening to the sound of pencil scratches on paper for only a few minutes before I fall asleep mumbling a weary ‘thank you’.

#hope you enjoy!#g/t #giant/tiny #g/t writing

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world-of-aus · 1 year

Text

More than Business

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x Baker!Reader

Authors Note: I was not expecting the first part to get as much love as it has but I can’t thank you all for the excitement you showed on that first piece. Hoping you all enjoy this second part as much as the first, there will be a third and hopefully final piece to this installment. As always happy reading buns!

Warnings: Pinch of angst, fluff

You’re stifling back another yawn as you go to open the wooden case that holds your pastries. “You alright there sugar, you look about ready to drop and it’s only 8 a.m.” You shake your head, pulling on a smile as you will the sleep from your eyes, “just a long morning,” you answer as you reach for the baked treat with the tongs you had in hand, “wanted to display the newest pastries out front this morning – spent most of the morning moving the other pastries around because of it.”

The elder lady is laughing softly from behind you, soft hand meeting your back as she rubs it comfortingly, “well it looks lovely, and it’ll have business booming for you with the way you chose to display this newest release.” A genuine smile pulls at your lips as you place the tongs back in their place, shutting the wooden cabinet as you pass her the bag of chosen pastries. “I hope so, but if sales don’t go as planned, I’ll be sending you and Willie some as I close shop, hope you don’t mind.”

She’s mirroring your grin as you she moves the two of you to the next display, “as if Willie could ever turn down any of your pastries, you know it’s a battle to tell that man no to any baked goods from here even though he’s well aware I stop by daily.” You're laughing softly as you repeat the action of grabbing the tongs, opening the case and pulling the amount of baked goods she requests. “Well, I’m hoping he’s going to be thrilled with any extras I send your way.”

She takes the bag from your hands as you walk the two of you up to the register, “he’s gonna have a field day,” she laughs as you weigh her bag reading her the total. “You should be charging more,” she says as she dips into her coin purse, “lord knows these treats are worth more than you charge.”

Warmth floods you, as you take her change, “oh I don’t know,” you murmur, as the register opens change sliding into its place, “I sometimes I feel I overcharge.” Meredith waves a hand at you dismissing the statement, “nonsense, with the fees from the 107 and how slow business can be some days, you deserve to price according to your work and your work is worth it sweetheart.”

You pass her her bag with a warm smile on your lips, “I’ll consider it, but with the money I bring from the other shop I don’t see it in my future anytime soon.”

Meredith is laughing her hand falling over yours, “well at least consider a tip jar, it’ll help you with those ridiculous 107 fees.”

The smile falters at the mention of the 107, mind drawing a picture of the broad eyed brunette, “they’re not too bad,” you find yourself saying, “I can respect the care they have for their people even if it costs a little extra to do so.”

Something flashes in the elderly lady’s eyes, “they do care for us don’t they,” she hums, “well still sweetheart consider the tip jar, any amount helps you know, times can be tough.”

And you did know, you knew how hard it could be for some of the other business owners to gather the remaining amount as the time for the fees drew closer and closer. You decided then as you bid Meredith a farewell that you would set out a tip jar. A tip jar not for your store, but for the other stores who needed that extra hand when it came time.

After Meredith leaves to tend to her flower shop with her husband Willie the shop is at its usual business of a flow of your regulars. Each one taking their usual along with the new bake that waits for them at the front of the shop by the register.

“Goodness y/n you’re going to have me rushing over here before your bakery closes for the evening these are wonderful!” Your smile is bright as you take in the delight of your neighbor, “please stop by, I’ll have some saved for you free of charge.”

You laugh at her surprise, “now y/n, I couldn’t let you give me these free,” she argues but you wave her off, “really it’s no trouble, I’d rather these go home with someone then in a trash bin at the end of the day.” And although you can see the argument that sits on her tongue, she thanks you anyway, leaving her extra change in the tip jar before promising to see you later in the evening.

The tip jar slowly fills as regulars drop their extra change along with their warmest welcomes and promises to see you tomorrow filling not only your jar but yourself with their kindness. The hours tick by and before you know you’re flipping your sign and your lock for lunch, the thirty minutes giving you time to relax and enjoy yourself as you decide which pastry and drink, you’d like for lunch.

Your thoughts of lunch are forgotten at the sound of a knock at your door. Your brows furrow as you turn your head, heart catching in your throat as you meet the familiar ocean greys. He offers you a small smile through the glass door, mouthing if he can come in.

You’re twisting on your feet before you can give it a second thought. Fingers twisting the lock as your hand wraps around the knob pulling the door open. “Bucky,” you greet, “is everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine sweetheart, can I come in?”

You’re unsure what to say, the 107s leader never had reason before to come in outside of coming for their money at the first of the month, you wonder what’s gone wrong, were you short? Surely Steve and Sam had double counted the amount you were sure was there.

“I promise everything’s okay,” Bucky says as if reading your worry, “just came to talk.”

You want to say that he’s never come to just talk but you bite back your tongue choosing to hold the door open instead as you offer him room to come in. “Look if this is about yesterday evening Buck,” you begin as you walk further into the shop with the brunette, “there really are no hard feelings, I should have known I just -”

He’s turning on you then closing the last foot of space between the two of you, a shake to his head as he looks down at you, “you didn’t deserve my behavior in your office yesterday and for that I’m sorry. The first time we met you welcomed us – welcomed me with a kind smile, sweet words, and an even sweeter pastry, despite knowing what we were here for, despite our name you never looked at us any differently, never cowered away from me in fear.”

“Ma said it was never polite to judge a book by its cover, everyone’s got a story and I had yet to know yours.”

In that moment Bucky can’t believe you’re real, can’t believe he gets to know you and your kind heart. “I know you say everything’s okay, but I need to make it right. I hurt you last night y/n, and you didn’t deserve that, you’ve done nothing to deserve that behavior.” You’re the one shaking your head now, hands coming up to cross over your chest, a form of comfort as you choose your next words. “But you weren’t wrong Bucky, your visits have only ever been purely business, a simple transaction; you had never given me any reason to believe there was something more there aside from what I wanted to believe, what I let myself believe.”

“Do you really believe that, that it's just been business, a transaction?”

You want to say ‘no’, that you don’t believe it's just been business, but the uncertainty, the rejection has you biting your tongue. “We’re not friends outside of the business we do every first of the month Bucky, to an onlooker they might at most call us an acquaintance if they were to see our interactions, but I don’t think they would call what we do more than business.”

Bucky knows that you don’t believe that, can catch it in the way your gaze leaves his to instead look at the wooden floorboard of your shops. “Does it really matter what others think?”

“Does it,” you throw back, “it sure seemed like it mattered to you the other night.”

Bucky deserves it, despite the non malicious way your words came out he knows he deserves it, because he hurt you and despite this you’re still so kind to him. You don’t allow him a chance to get a word in as you shake your head rubbing lightly at your eyes.

“I’m sorry, look why don’t you join me in my office and we can talk about what you came here for over a pastry and your choice of beverage, I only have,” you looked at the grandfather clock, “22 minutes before I have to flip my sign over for the afternoon and I’d really like to eat something before the rush whaddya say Barnes you willing to sit and eat something with me, forget about the other day?”

Bucky knows there’s no forgetting that pain he saw flash across your features but he’s willing to start somewhere. “You going to let me pay for my meal?”

That draws a genuine smile out of you, “no can do Buck, but you can leave a tip in the jar if you’d like,” you say pointing to the tip jar sitting on display at your register.

“Everything okay, you in some trouble?”

You’re shaking your head with a laugh, “nothing like that, it’s not for me,” you say drawing a look of confusion from the brunette, “Meredith mentioned me putting one out despite my protests that financially I was okay, business might not be slow for me but it can for the other businesses on the block – it’s my way of giving back and lending a helping hand at the first of the month.”

“No one's mentioned struggling,” he murmurs, “I’d be willing to cut rent if I knew - if I have to get cheaper supplies to keep their shops up and running, we’d find a way, is this happening with all the shops?”

“Meredith was the first to voice something like that and I mentioned to her that despite the price it was a price paid to take care of your people – despite your grumpy demeanor,” you add with a smile. You’re moving around the shop then grabbing two pastries and two beverages, “c’mon Barnes, this way,” you say leading the way into your office, his hand shutting the door behind the two of you.

The two of you take the seats in front of your desk, your hands placing the sweets and drinks down on your desk as the two of you get comfortable.

“So, Barnes, what did you want to talk about?”

He reaches for his pastry wanting to busy his hands as he tries to find the words of the plan he had shared with Steve and Sam earlier this morning. “Our conversation last night really had me thinking,” he begins, “that can’t be good,” you tease. He shakes his head giving you a look that has you hiding your grin behind a bite of the pastry. “Like I was saying,” he continues, “our talk last night, and the moment you shared with Meredith has me thinking, I don’t want my people to fear me, it shouldn’t be me they fear, I should be the one they’re able to come to, talk to about problems they face. I should be the one they come to when something goes wrong. Who am I if they fear me just as much as the others, who am I if the people I'm meant to take care of are they very same ones that cower from me in fear?”

“I don’t think its entirely because they fear you buck, do I think you intimidate them yes, but I don’t think it’s fear.”

Bucky reaches for his beverage next, needing to clear his throat, “fear or not, I don’t want them thinking they can’t come to me, that they don’t have a friend in me.” That has you smiling, an uptick to the corner of your mouth, “so what exactly are you going to propose to change this?”

“The guys and I have been talking with the holidays rolling around we thought we’d give something back to our community.” “Oh,” you question with a brow raised, “we were thinking we could bring everyone together and host a fall carnival of sorts.”

“I think everyone would enjoy that, would the 107 be hosting?”

“We would be,” Bucky nods, “but this is where you come in, I need your help.”

“My help, how?”

“I know it’s going to take some time for everyone to warm up to the thought of us like you have, so I was hoping you could help me spread the word. I’m hoping we can get all the businesses on the block to set up a table or booth courtesy of us to help them bring in more money.”

Your smile warms the brunette, a smile of his own pulling at his lips, “I’d love to spread the word, does this mean I'm getting my own booth?” Your brow raises at the smirk that tugs at the corner of Bucky’s mouth, “actually sweetheart, how good of a teacher are you?”

You let out a laugh, “uhm last I checked I was working in a bakery not a preschool, so I'm not sure how good of a teacher I'd be.”

“You think you’d have enough patience to show 8 bikers how to bake?”

“Is your baking as good as your driving,” you question, “my ma taught me a thing or two in the kitchen,” he answers, “well then it might not be such a lost cause,” you tease, “though the other seven, well I can’t speak for them.”

“So you’re in?”

Your smile is warm, “you can count me in Buck, I think it’ll be a nice change for all of us.”

He matches your smile, “I think so too.”

“So, you think this’ll work,” Bucky questions as he steps out onto the pathway, your sign flipping from closed to open.

“You can count on me to spread the word,” you offer with a warm smile, “but you should really try and stop in more often with the other shops, don’t let them judge your story by its cover, let them read it, let them see the you I see.”

Both your attention is pulled from one another by one of your regulars coming along, her eyes wide as she takes in the man before you. He offers her a smile, “good afternoon Alice, was just getting out of y/n’s hair, your pops still have that pasta special on Tuesday’s?”

The teenager nods not quite finding her voice at her first ever interaction with the biker, “Perfect I'll see the two of you later today if you can let your old man know I’ll be stopping by.” He’s turning to you then, “mind if I stop by later with the boys to grab some pastries from you, the ma’s will be visiting the club tomorrow, I'll even bring you a plate of pasta for the lunch today.”

“It was on the house Bucky, but I wouldn’t mind a plate of pasta from my favorite diner,” you say as you beckon Alice over, the teenager closing the distance between the two of you as she steps into the offered open door.

“Well then I'll be seeing the two of you later, you have a great shift sweetheart, Alice,” he nods in farewell.

You and Alice are seeing the man off, the loud rumble of his bike sounding through the block before he’s kicking off the curb and off onto the street. You two watch as he disappears off into the distance before you’re ushering the two of you into the quiet of your shop.

“The usual,” you say as you grab a paper bag for the girl, “I thought the others were just talking but Bucky Barnes was really here, is everything okay, did you run late on rent, I can talk to my dad, the others we can figure something out.”

You look at the girl over your shoulder a smile on your lips, “No, I gave my rent like all of you, Bucky was just here to tell me about a fall festival the 107 wants to host for the block.”

“Fall festival, the 107, are you sure we’re talking about the same biker group.”

You laugh softly as you turn back to your display grabbing the tongs from the side, “they’re not as scary as everyone makes them out to be, in fact they’re all a couple of sweethearts once you get to know them.”

“And how well do you know Bucky?”

You’re looking at the girl over your shoulder, dropping two extras of her favorites into the bag, a grin on the girl's face. “It’s not like that Alice, he’s just a -”

“Just a what,” she encourages, you’re looking down in thought before meeting her eye, “just a friend.”

The look that crosses the girls' features Is thoughtful as she asks her next question, “is that why the 107 lingers around here longer at the first of the month, because its more than just business?”

You’re turning toward the girl, handing her the bag as she moves over to the next case, “it’s still a transaction between two people but, yeah,” you nod, “it's definitely more than just business, just like when you come in.”

Alice smiles, “do you really think the 107 is going to be able to put on the fall festival you know with all the talk that surrounds them?”

“I’ve come to learn that actions speak louder than words, so yeah, I'm hopeful they will.”

“I hope so too, Mr. Barnes seems like a nice guy, under all that tough exterior,” Alice says as she follows you to the register.

He is you think, he really is.

#biker!bucky x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes x you #Bucky Barnes au #biker au

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oncewhenalongtimeago · 3 months

Note

(SbITILYP request) I wonder what hiccup thinks about his dad burning holes into the back of the girl he has a crush on's head. Maybe Hiccup would try to apologize for it afterwards. + the almost-kissing-her thing

Sorry, but I Think I Lost Your Plot pt 21

Pairing: Onesided!Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Modern!Fem!Reader

Words: 2,700

Hiccup gets better at this romance thing.

Tags: Time Travel, Reader into Movieverse, Dragons: Defenders of Berk, Fright of Passage, post episode, Hiccup’s POV

The incident with the Flightmare took up a lot of time and energy and after how quickly you’d fled once Thornado had landed back on Berk, he hadn’t seen you much at all, much less had time to talk to you.

He shifted on the short wooden bench, the unsanded grit of its surface and the uneven length of its legs causing it to feel odd and off balance as he shifted over it.

Hiccup glanced past the metal framing holding up an empty, crusted pot over the fire, whose heat was licking at his calves beneath his trousers and flickering against the majority of his torso.

He clutched a small, oblong glass shape as he glared forwards, cool against his skin through the fabric of his tunic, hidden away by his vest, securely stored in a secret pocket he’d sewed in for specifically this purpose.

The bioluminescent algae seemed to have been lost, for the most part.

The others had been a bit shifty around him, in a way that was more shifty than malicious. He had the sinking suspicion that they might’ve caught on to his little crush.

The heavy beating of boot and peg against old wooden floors. It was really ironic that the Chiefs; hut was the only one that hadn’t been burned on the regular. His Dad was very attentive towards his house.

His Dad’s face was set and shoulders hunched, a remnant from earlier when he had been awkwardly tending to his own meal.

Hiccup’s own face was slightly sour. He was still mad at his Dad for… everything.

Both Hiccup and Stoick ignored the sound of clattering dishes in the background.

Stoick grumbled as Hiccup’s expression turned just a bit scowlier, sitting in his large wooden chair which sometimes seemed yet as if it couldn’t hold every bit of him, across the fire pit from Hiccup, who had a bowl in his lap and was sitting in quite the hunched manner, “You like the… Delivery girl.”

“You know her?” Hiccup asked nervously, pulling at his tunic collar.

Stoick shifted, his brown fur cloak spilling over the arms of his chair.

“He has the lass come up here and clean around sometimes!” Gobber said, rifling around in one of the chests lining the wall, the horns of his helmet clattering against mounted shields and other sharp weapons and he turned carelessly, arms wide,

“What?!” Hiccup asked, voice pitch nearly at a screech.

He was scared immediately that you’d seen smoke things you shouldn't've. What had you seen?

Hiccup took a moment to pause and bring his voice down, maybe a bit deeper than it needed to be, even as his heart rate picked up.

“If you want ‘er, Ye need tae sweep her off her feet!” Gobber clapped Hiccup hard on the place shoulder met back, causing Hiccup to stumble forward as the big man swept his other arm outwards.

He grimaced.

He’d already been doing a good amount of sweeping. He doubted anyone would take well to being accosted in the way Gobber described. What did Gobber know about women, anyways?

He should put on his red tunic, though.

Hiccup was very attracted to that idea.

Oh, Gods, he really hoped you hadn’t seen too much.

“...Hey,” Hiccup said, looking at you, as always, basket in hand. A woven one this time, made of long grasses that brushed and scraped along the sides of your skirt.

He was sort of impressed with himself, and the fact that he hadn’t fumbled over anything at all yet.

You weren’t looking him in the eye at all, which meant he had definitely totally completely messed up.

“Hi,” You responded, voice pitched so he could tell you were nearly squeaking.

It only took a few days. That might have been to the effect of all the stuff he’d dumped in it, too.

The Flightmare left tracks, and from what little he could salvage- the spare scale, which was nearly translucent upon detachment, and some slime he picked up from some of the more plant-like dragons, he ended up being able to speed up the growth

He’d… Nabbed some of Fishlegs’ notes for that. He wouldn’t mind. Hopefully.

Hiccup had lent him Toothless for the day, after all, albeit with more grump than was probably appropriate.

The dragon seemed alright with it, too, ready to show off his tail, a sparking nadder blue, his replacement after the red one had been ripped back on Fireworm island.

Hiccup palmed the vial in his pocket, “I, ah…”

As an apology, he’d found someone willing to bring in some rose bushes. It took a lot, but it was worth it. For you, that was. He got some others in on it, though of course he never told them why. They didn’t have the bushes yet, but soon.

For the person you were, to him, even if you didn’t get it yet.

And he’d done something else, too.

He was going to try surprising you with it. Or not.

He was worried he might scare you off.

“Sorry,” He started, “About my Dad. He’s just-Well, he’s…”

You shrugged balefully, “I get it? I’m not-...”

“Right,” Hiccup nodded, “Yeah, okay.”

It was silent for a few long moments.

You were both standing by the bridge out into the forest, the clear ends around it lined by trees, freshly planted.

At this point, the two of you had to have been experts in deciphering stutters and half-spoken words.

He could kill a large dragon and win over Astrid, but he couldn’t talk to you at all. He didn’t have the courage. Or, maybe it wasn’t about courage.

Hiccup wasn’t afraid. He wasn’t shy.

He did stupid things all the time.

There was just something about you, or maybe something about him, that kept most things from coming out right. That made him just a little bit nervous.

“I-well, I wanted to say sorry. Would you be fine following me for a bit?”

You paused for a second

“Just… Come on,” He said, somewhat hesitantly. He was sure by then his face was blotchy with flush, “It’s in the woods. Is that…?”

You nodded.

Hiccup held in a sigh of relief, “Alright. Well, then…”

Back in the village, it looked like a few vikings had taken to terraforming Berk, though you had no idea why.

You weren’t sure where Toothless was. Probably… Off,

Maybe they were inspired, you had no clue. Something about bushes or brushes or something and house paint.

You nearly tripped over a particularly large, gnarled root as you moved past Hiccup, holding aside a branch with leaves, half expecting to get murdered, or something. That’s what he brought you out into the woods for, right?

This was a particularly dark part of the forest, packed with leaves and moss in a way no spot on Berk had been before the Red Death had been defeated, with all the dragons burning most of everything down.

It had already been darkening by the time Hiccup had asked you to follow, and though Hiccup had long since ceased to weird you out at all, the thoughts came unbidden.

You took a few steps forwards, shuffling slightly, looking around at the world, washed over with a blue filter, and at the vines crawling up the trees, before you paused, taking notice of a light, bright and gentle and nearly not there glowing against mottled bark.

You looked down, and then your eyes widened slightly.

You weren’t sure how you missed it, but below, there was a pool.

You stared down at it, glowing and dark under the canopy of the leaves above.

“So, what do you think?”

You heard Hiccup asked from behind you, his own boot and prosthetic shuffling against packed, fallen leaves and damp mulch.

Your face felt hot in a tingling, bright way as you stared down into the slowly moving water.

Was this all from the Flightmare?

It was something you might’ve seen in the news in the foreseen future, the same type of glow you’d see lurking inside a glow stick.

“Oh,” You said. You’d heard about it and you were sure all of the glowing algae had been washed out to sea.

“I was hoping you’d like it,” Hiccup said hesitantly, “Do you?”

Your heart felt like it was on fire too, in the way that it only could when butterflies and bugs and other flighty, flippant nerve things were preening around in your organs.

Maybe Hiccup did like you, after all.

“Wow,” You stumbled forwards a few more feet until you were overlooking a small dirt ledge which had to be at least a yard tall, held together by roots and sticks and other dead plants.

It overlooked the rest of the pond by a little bit, overseeing edges kept aloft in quite a similar fashion, like one of those deep, neverending kinds of pools made of a beautiful blue with no bottom, toeing the line between dangerous and beautiful that most people would only ever lay eyes on in photos.

In this moment, perhaps heightened by the mood and atmosphere, everything felt a bit softer. You were sure the light of the pool was glittering back through your eyes, chest light and full of wonder and awe.

You said nothing yet, awkwardly turning so that your back hit the sturdy trunk of a large tree, sliding down slowly and displacing moss until you were sitting down against the uneven, steep packed, large roots of a tree, moss tickling your back through your shirt.

You felt like you might slide down into it if you loosened your legs just a bit from where they kept you steady, braced against moss and dirt.

Small flecks of dirt tumbled down into the pool under them, hitting ferns and the occasional fungus, mushrooms that looked as if they’d just bud, hinting at a similar glow to the bright light of the pool as toes of your boots played a risky game with the dirt ledge over the pond.

“So... A good apology, all things considered?” He prompted.

You nearly forgot about Hiccup, still standing by the streeline, which was, admittedly, also very close by the water.

You brought your knees up to your chin, which you rested on top of your elbows, your cheeks feeling warm as you smiled into them, not in the hot way they had been just a moment before, but with a soft feeling that came from deep in your chest, feeling a lot like a crackling fire in the heart or the smell of a warm cup of cocoa, fluffy white marshmallows floating along the top.

You didn’t look over, but the hairs of your neck, which were standing, and a tickling in the corner of your still focused eye told you Hiccup was watching you.

You wondered what his expression looked like. Was it fond, or goofy, or blank?

Did he feel anything at all at the sight?

Had he really done this all for you?

The water rippled and the algae grew brighter as it did. There was a light dusting of blue foam across the surface and if you looked ever so slightly you could spot the occasional speck of something swimming around in the water, though you were sure it was too small to be a fish.

A sea monkey? A bug? A glowing speck?

You were certain it was not safe to swim in, but it was unbelievably gorgeous, framed by dipping and swaying ferns in the near complete darkness.

“Yeah,” You said mumbling into your elbow, noticing in your periphery as Hiccup moved forwards to stand by your side, “Yeah, I think so.”

You felt the hesitant dusting of a few fingers against your shoulder before they disappeared, twitching away and displacing the air by your ears, the feel of them there and gone causing all the hairs along your arm and neck to stand on end.

You found yourself tilting your head away from the touch, hiding the bashful flush of your face as Hiccup spoke again, “I also… I got you something else, too.”

You delicately took what was offered by a careful hand and held up the vial, smooth, clean and cool between your fingertips, a liquid inside glowing in a similar fashion to the pool in front of you and the mystical blue-washed world around.

Hiccup definitely wasn’t the type of guy to be able to keep something so clean- everything he had -books, blankets, papers, the occasional crafter compass for trade- they were all smudged by soot or the oil of skin and at the very least slightly folded in corners.

Against all odds, though, there it was. He must’ve taken great care with it.

You looked up at him.

You were sure you’d imagined it, because things like that didn’t happen in reality, and definitely not on the faces turned cartoon and whimsy to real and solid and in full, real life, completely discernable human graphic definition, but that glowing, sparkly feeling you were certain he clouds see plain as day- you felt fresh, believing for just a moment you could see it in his eyes too.

Hiccup’s head was in the clouds, his cheeks buzzing in a pleasant way, traveling up to his ears in a way that almost made him want to rub them, warm and heady and tingling in a way that was slightly ticklish.

His shoulder brushed against yours, your pinky fingers brushing together, slightly hooked, mimicking earlier when his fingers teased your palm in the imitation of a hold as the two of you walked back from the woods.

“Is it fine if we…” Your fingers came together again, the two of you turning to each other once the sound of boots and peg against wood turned into the softer, more muffled sound of weights padding against dirt.

Hiccup didn’t know he had it in him, but it was less an action made by choice and more led by an automatic zone, a feeling for what came next brought on by feeling and comfortability influenced by the ambiance, though that wasn’t to say he himself felt casual about it at all.

Your hands were slightly shaky.

His heart was rocketing the whole time, blood pumping and beating in his eardrums.

“Separate?” Hiccup finished as you glanced off towards the darkened village, resisting the urge to shiver as a cool breeze blew by, fit to match the now dark sky, coming in from the side of him that faced the woods.

On the other, closer to his back he noticed a very faint yellow light, warm and emanating from where he suspected the stairs to the hall lay, within which the larger half of Berk was most likely pulling together their nightly meal.

“You’ll be… fine?” He asked, breath nearly stuttering as the two of you tilted his head forwards, your foreheads so close they were nearly touching, “You can still- You can have my coat, still.”

“It’s okay,” You said, the focus of your eyes flickering from down by your hands to his face, before your hands separated.

“Thanks,” You said simply, before turning and walking forwards a few feet, a cool breeze causing your skirt to wave.

You glanced back as you left, unsure as if you were subconsciously asking if it was okay for you to leave.

Hiccup thought his legs might give out.

The night breeze was extra cold on Hiccup’s hands and back as he watched you go, though the warm, glowing feeling in his chest remained, moving down into the village, disappearing into the dark maze of alleys and open halls.

He was a night owl, as most of Berk tended to be after years of nightly raids.

He wouldn’t be sleeping.

He could work on blueprints for the sewage system. That was a whole project in and of itself. But with the tunnels below the village and all the dragon power they had in Berk, it might’ve just been doable.

But as he stared out into the still quiet of the empty village, he realized he’d probably just be thinking about you instead.

#httyd #how to train your dragon #x reader #fanfiction #hiccup haddock #hiccup x reader #httyd imagine #fem reader #female reader

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jaketsparrow · 7 months

Text

Tending Part 4!

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f! Reader

Word Count: 9.7K

A/N: That last chapter was… a lot. A little change of pace this time :) I’m so very sorry this took so long, but I was captivated with one of my other 8 million hobbies.

A special shout out to @gvfpal for being an amazing person and helping me with this chapter! 🫶

MINORS DNI

MENTIONS OF/ TW: Soft Jake (I’m sorry), fluffy stuff, fingering (F! Receiving), swearing, sexually explicit content, teasing/edging, *some* angst :)

MASTERPOST

It's hard to tell when the morning comes. The blackout curtains in the room offer no indication of the time. Your naked body still rests between the maroon sheets; cozied between the layers. You turned yourself away from him during the night; he chose a better spooning position that almost made you jump on him. He was so close, pressing himself into you with slow thrusts. If only his boxer briefs hadn’t been there…

You turn yourself to face Jake… Except… Like always- he’s not there. A sigh escapes your disappointed lips.

Why is he always gone?

You wish just one time you could wake up next to him and surprise him with your own sort of morning treat. You wish you could feel more than just the nights with him. Would that be asking for too much intimacy? Too much too soon?

Maybe for him, but for you it was all you wanted. Sexual intimacy can be enough, but knowing someone like Jake, he was always going to leave you wanting more. This was a fun game to him, knowing you’d get worked up and upset by his absence. He was right of course, but you wish for once you’d have all the cards.

After last night you finally thought you had turned into something worth his time. But in reality, Jake wouldn’t change that quickly, he just needed to do enough for you to forgive him. You fell for it and would continue to. He was your addiction, and you would continue being strung out for his attention.

Jake’s house was the perfect blend of clean but disorganized. You imagined this space is exactly how the inside of his brain looked. Every surface was clean, but stacks of information and knick-knacks pile on bookshelves, and musical paraphernalia was placed everywhere. It was not messy, but actually strategic and logically arranged artifacts.

The house opens directly into the mellow-vibed living room. The area is occupied by a luxurious and worn brown leather couch and an orange cloth armchair. The floor has been covered in a dusty blue rug that sat underneath the wooden coffee table, which was covered in sheet music. The opposite wall had a modestly sized TV and next to it a large stereo system. Speakers litter the floor around a turntable, and vinyls sit in a crate directly next to it. The walls house several different vintage posters; some movies, and some travel. All with muted color palettes of earth tones.

There were no overhead lights in use, but rather a few soft lamps that provided an ambient glow to the space. A perfect cozy retreat… An artist’s cave.

Nothing in the room matched each other, but it all fit seamlessly. Like an amalgamation of collected objects that he just had to have in his life. It was like he ran into an antique store and had to grab everything in sight as quick as he could.

Jake ushered you further into the room, gently nudging you with his hand on your hip. Your eyes continue to wander the space, taking in every inch, trying to absorb every moment. This brief glimpse into Jake’s life is rare, and you spare no time trying to analyze it all.

For the past week, you tried not to think about Jake. It was hard to imagine him not in your life, even though he had only been a presence for a short time.

That’s the thing about obsessions, you rely on them to be there constantly. You can obsess over a band, you can also obsess over a favorite TV show or a celebrity, and the best part about it- they’re always there. You can always find them. With Jake, he was an obsession that could never really be yours. You would have to chase down any information out of him. It was practically an interrogation with him, playing good cop bad cop to try and fish anything personal out.

He was your new addiction. It was sad to say that you could become addicted to someone like him, but it was easy to miss him. Every moment you wish would have lasted a little longer, every time you woke up hoping he was there with you, every shift you hoped he would be there. He was the strongest drug you’ve ever tried. You relied on his praise, on him noticing you. It was maybe unhealthy, but the need you had for him felt justified.

Everything felt worth it in that moment. Being allowed into his home was like stepping into a new form of intimacy. The dark and mysterious Jake wasn’t as mysterious as he used to be. He was opening his world to you. It was like walking out of a dark room and into day glow. It felt like finally finding that stupid puzzle piece you searched hours for, that you finally found and could place.

Today sitting in the field was the most romantic moment of your life, even if you were dragged there against your will. It made the possibility of you two seem real. You didn’t want to feel hopeful just yet, but the companionship you felt today did nothing but warm you.

You decide it would probably be best to say something instead of being in your usual silent shock, “Wow… Jake, this is a… really nice space…”

He squeezes your hip and blushes at your compliment.

“Thanks, uh… like yours, my personality kinda just took over.” He abandons your side and walks over to the turntable in the corner of the room. He leans down to the box of vinyls; sifting through a few before turning back to you. He tucks the hair that falls in front of his eyes, “What do you like to listen to?”

“Um… Anything really,” You take a few steps further into the living room to try and get a better look at his collection. Pushing forward slightly, tucking your hands behind you to distract them from awkwardly moving about. You don’t recognize much of the music in the case; of course, he wouldn’t be the kind to collect anything too popular. It looks like a collection of old blues, rock, and well really the classics.

Jake finally settles on what looks like a blues album and pulls the record from its sleeve. The jacket is old and tattered, well used most likely or second hand. He slowly lowers it to the turntable and starts it on a low volume. The crackles of the vinyl start and the first song echoes softly across the decorated walls. He takes a step back and rests his hands on his hips, admiring his choice.

Jake has this look of pure accomplishment, like he just couldn’t stand how proud he was. It was honestly adorable. A huge smirk is creeping over him and his eyes are excited and wide.

He stares at the spinning music for a moment, before turning his gaze back to you. You feel so awkward standing there in his home. Before, he had only been in your space, a comfortable option. But now you werre in his home, taking possibly the biggest step you two had taken yet.

It still feels out of place for you to be somewhere with him other than the bar. The past couple of months that was the only place you were even able to see him. There were no outside events between you two, no mutual friends to visit, no one went out for drinks after work because you had already been drinking. Before that first night, Jake was like an enigma, only appearing behind the bar when called.

That one night together changed everything. You saw the full range of Jake’s emotions in just a short time, and you saw your full range of feelings for Jake. There was no denying that you’ve already suffered the worst of your relationship already, and just hoped for more moments like this. Discovering and unearthing the man you knew he could be.

“Do you recognize it yet?” He asks.

“What? The song?”

“Yeah!” He grabs your hand and brings you closer to the record player. He squats down and turns up the volume with a slight crank. He points to his ear, “Listen…”

You lean down to get a better look at the sleeve and hear the rhythm better. The melody does sound familiar, but you can’t place where you heard it. You tap your fingers over your thigh, trying to feel the beat. The artist nor album rings any bells, but you can’t place why you remember the song…

Until it hits you.

“Oh! Your band!” You exclaim, “This is the song you guys opened with at the bar!”

He smiles at your realization. He can finally trust that you have good ears. Jake lifts himself from his low position and grabs your hands to bring you up with him. He reaches for your waist and pulls you in.

“Yeah…” He gazes at your eyes and smirks at you, “This is one of our favorites.”

He has a different feeling than usual, his aura is warm and comforting. All the rough edges that you thought about this past week were smoothing out in front of your eyes. Its like he’s sculpting a new version of his personality for only you to see.

You reach your hands out to wrap them around his neck, draping yourself over him. He returns the favor by reaching up the back of your shirt, caressing you closer against his body.

These were the things you had missed most. Feeling special to him. His touch was warm… Gentle. He wanted you to feel cared for in that moment. He couldn’t bear to keep any verbal apologies going, but these soft gestures were enough to make you whole. It was like he was tending to your wounds.

You felt like you finally were allowed to have some control over what happened between you. He wanted you. At least that’s what he said…

The flattery of knowing that he chose you over Mariella did something. You knew Mariella would have been anyone else’s first choice. She was a beautiful woman but lacked something compared to you. You try not to compare yourself to her, because right now, there was no need to.

“Dance with me?” You ask.

Jake laughs softly and shakes his head, “No, no. I don’t dance.”

“C’mon!” You plead, you’re so giddy to get him to cave, “It's the least you can do to make this week up for me,”

He throws his head back, laughing again.

You reach your hands further back to hold his head in your hands; gently running your fingers through his scalp. His hair is soft between you, freshly washed, silky even. He purrs softly at your petting. He also craved this softness, but he would deny it.

He lowers his head back down to look at you, smirking. His big brown eyes completely melt you every time you get to look this closely at them. It’s like that night in the bar all over again, back to a sense of normalcy. Joking and playing with each other, trying your best to awkwardly flirt.

Jake is so handsome tonight, you think to yourself. When is he ever not though? He was quite possibly the most attractive man you’ve ever seen, with intrusive tendencies that make your heart go wild, which might not be the best. There is no such thing as perfection, you remind yourself. He was going to try his best, and you would try yours to be patient with him.

“Maybe another time,” He answers, “Just listen to the music.”

You giggle at him and move your hands back down around his shoulders. They’re strong and sure. He’s at the perfect height that you don’t have to lift yourself too high to rest on him. You lay your head in the center of his chest, molding yourself to his body. You can hear his heartbeat gently beating. Oh, thank god, you had worried maybe he didn’t have one.

“I don’t listen with my ears,” You whisper

You use what little force you carry and gently sway him between your arms. Rocking your hips back and forth. He tries his hardest to fight your movements, but you can tell he wants to give in. Soon, he subdues his fighting, and leans into the swing. Shuffling his feet tightly; lightly stepping around yours.

You try your best to be sultry and coy, “I like to feel the music and do what it tells me,”

He lets out a faint chuckle and gives in further to your swaying. You rock back and forth across the floor, each step moving you further into the room. You try to help him lead the way, but ultimately take control of the movements.

He lets you take control in this moment; finally letting you show him how to be gentle. He rests the edge of his jaw against the top of your head, nuzzling into your mane. You wished maybe you had time to shower before he picked you up, but you’re sure the dry shampoo you use smells just fine.

Being close to him like this is pure bliss. Butterflies stir in your stomach, each one fluttering with the excitement of this new start. Each spot where you meet each other sparks with the heat of passion. It was like a scene from a movie, how silly.

Like the couple who just moved into their first apartment, and theres absolutely nothing set up yet except their record player that they unpacked first. The man walks over to the record player and puts on ‘their song’ and the woman can’t help but blush. He reaches his arm out to her, inviting her to be with him. She raises herself off the floor and swoops into his arms. The two of them moving about the empty apartment floors, unwinding after the long moving day. The stress of it all meant nothing to them though, because all they needed was already unpacked… Each other.

You wanted that with Jake. A familiarity. Your song. Which you suppose could be this song. You imagine your future together, wishful thinking. Life would be filled with movie moments, and you hoped he would be the star in each one.

You look over to the nightstand and see a glass of water sitting on a coaster. The fresh condensation drips down the side of the glass.

Did he put this out for you? He actually had a caring thought before he left and brought you a glass of water…?

You gather yourself up to reach for the glass and take a few cautious sips. The cold drink slides down your dry, rather exhausted throat. It quenches your thirst and instantly pulls you into an awake state.

Instead of his striking body lying next to you, there sits a lump. You lift your head slightly off the pillow to examine the objects to your side. It's a pile of folded clothes- your folded clothes. Not all of them though, just your sweatpants, your thong, and… a new item?

You reach over to the new t-shirt and pull it out from under the sweatpants. It's a white cotton shirt, soft and well-worn. You bring it to your face and inhale the fabric’s scent… It's Jake’s shirt. No doubt his gift is an apology for ripping yours last night. He would never apologize with his words over such behavior, but the gesture is still as nice.

You pull the sheets off of your body and begin to dress yourself on the mattress, starting with your gifted shirt. You want every second to smell like Jake, especially when he’s not there with you. Next the sweatpants, until you’re finally in your completely lazy outfit again; this time with an extra piece to your ensemble.

You slide your legs off of the mattress and touch your feet down to the cold wood floor. That truly is the most sobering part of getting up. You hesitate fully getting out of bed and choose to admire the room just a little longer. Last night presented no opportunities to survey the room. There was nowhere to look but him.

Jake’s room truly is as mysterious as he is. Dark, closed off, and has an air of calm and refreshing easement. There’s a vintage, timeless touch to his design. You wouldn’t expect him to put this much effort into his home, but it's clear that he carries a sense of pride in his spaces.

The room is quite vast, but caves in with the decor. The tall mahogany bedroom set is clunky in the space but fits well with the vibe. Under the bed sits a beautiful black rug with subtle detailing carved into the yarn. The nightstands are ornate; detailed with wood carvings along the edges. The corner of the room has another orange chair, different than the living rooms, it’s more cozy and comforting. A bookshelf sits next to it, with autobiographies of artists, historical pieces, and of course, classics.

There are a few different light sources in the room, but no overhead lights; he must have a distaste for them. The lamps are covered in cloth shades, adding a dull glow to the room. You wonder what it would look like if it were brightly lit and could see every detail around you.

There’s no TV in his room. Clearly, he hasn’t yet given in fully to modernity. You imagine his nights here alone, playing guitar, sitting in this room. Moving about the house like a shrouded figure of moodiness, taking in the space step by step. You imagine him lying in bed, staring at the objects that stack on each surface. There is nowhere for your eyes to rest; every little knick-knack is an object worth wondering about and admiring. These objects fill up his space, where a person has not.

You snap out of your snooping stare and make your way out of the bed.

Figuring Jake has left the house, you try your best to tidy up after yourself. You pull the sheets back into their rightful place, bringing each layer up into a tight spread. The bed has been erased of both of you, of your acts, of your…

“Look what you did pretty girl,” He whispers in your ear.

Ugh.

You creep towards the bedroom door, remembering the rest of your items wait for you in the living room. Your phone and shoes were simply an afterthought last night.

Jake takes his hand and reaches up to the back of your neck, gently wrapping his fingers up into the base of your scalp. His touch relaxes you; it heals you. After the anger and pain of this past week, you knew you needed some release. The tension that had built up from all the uncertainty was vanishing.

His other hand slides and relaxes across your back, embracing you. It’s hard not to notice the bulge growing between the two of you. You’re so tight against him, feeling him press himself into you, almost needing to be sure that you know of its presence.

The song tapers to the end and a new one begins. You nudge your head up, and Jake lifts to meet you. The contours of your noses barely touch each other. The desire sits heavily between you; your breath is the only thing separating you from him.

He brings his hands down to sit across the band of your sweatpants. It’s fucking devious how horny he can get you in a matter of moments. Feeling him with you, knowing all is forgiven, leaves little room for hesitation. You reach your lips up to meet his, but he pulls away from you.

Devastated, you pull back to look up into his eyes, “Jake, I need you.”

“Not here.” He whispers.

“Yes, here.” You beg back to him. Reaching your hands to hold his face, pawing at him to let you continue.

He runs his hands down over your ass, palming his hands on you. They move past your curves and reach underneath your thighs. In one swift lift, you find your legs around his hips, enclosed against his torso.

You bring your head to his ear, gently kissing the brim of his pierced lobes. He takes a few small steps towards the hallway, having to pace himself through heavy whining breaths.

“I said not here…” He repeats.

You continue to tease him, peppering his neck and profile with soft pecks. The warmth in your core is starting to take you over. A frenzy of lust cradles between the two of you. The soft pressure of the spreading hold he has you in makes you wish you weren’t separated by your clothes.

“I’ve been thinking about all the things you’re going to do to me,” you whisper.

He continues down the hallway, choosing to ignore your statement, wanting to follow through with his mission. You are completely unaware of where in his house you are being brought to. Most likely, his bedroom; it was going to be the ultimate insight into Jake’s mind.

Your nuzzled state into his neck left you limited vision to stare at your surroundings, but you were more concerned with the man holding you than the objects in his house.

Your moaning had become louder too, sounding like a starved animal, ready for a feast you’ve been waiting a week for.

“I need you,” You purr into his ear.

“Don’t worry pretty girl, I’ll give you everything you need.”

He backs himself to the door of the bedroom and leans to open it.

The room has a soft glow, although there isn’t much light present in the room. There are a few fixtures emitting an orange light, just enough brightness to outline the shape of the room.

“I want you in here,” He says.

He shuffles the both of you slowly over to the bed, bringing his knee to the edge of the mattress and slowly lowering you down into the center. Your head just barely rests on the pillow, and the comforter around you consumes your boundaries. Jake’s body hovers over you, his hair falling on the sides of his face, shrouding him slightly. His knee still rests between your legs, splitting yourself around him. The way he looks at you at this moment isn’t full of the usual fire and lust, it’s more caring; almost loving…

“Jake…” You mutter through hushed lips.

He sweeps your hair away from your cheek and leaves his hand there for a moment. You both have a habit of lingering.

“Tonight,” He leans in close, kissing the edge of your jaw, “I want to show you how special you are. Give you everything you deserve.”

“I want to be the only girl you remember,” You snap.

Some strange form of lingering jealousy that you almost regret. Here he is trying to make up for the behavior, showing you kindness, and yet you still let the bratty personality wash over you. You can’t help it. Being in his presence makes you this way. You’re trained to respond to him the way he’s wanted it previously. As much as he may deny it, he loves it when you fight back.

He lets out a disappointed ‘tsk’ in your ear, and backs himself from your face. “I need you to be a good girl for me tonight… My good girl.” He cups the side of your cheek and looks down on you in a stern and endearing manner. Those words ring through you ‘my good girl’. You were his, finally. Even if there were no official relationship titles, you were his. His plaything, his girl, the one he chose. You weren’t expecting such sweet words to be the kind of thing to turn you on this much, but you find yourself writhing underneath him.

“I can be good.”

“I know you can, sunshine.”

You swing the door open and stroll into the hallway, taking your time to walk through. Seeing Jake’s home in the daylight is a completely different vibe than the night. The whole house is brighter, letting in diffused light from the shades.

The artwork in this hallway is different than the living room. It’s not even artwork really, it's concert posters. You stop to admire the biggest one hanging by the bedroom door. It's a gig poster with his band written in small letters under some other local bands. The colorful squiggles and designs resemble a 70’s music poster. There are streaks of orange, purple, and yellow cascading underneath the lettering. It's nicer than the usual band posters you see posted up at the bar. It’s bright, eye-catching, and honestly pretty.

How cute, you think to yourself. It's nice to see he’s proud of his band.

You turn to head back down the hallway towards the living room, but pause when you hear whispers. Voices speaking on the other side of the wall in the living room. You can make out Jake’s voice, but there’s another male voice with his. The two sound comfortable talking together, like old friends… Maybe he has a roommate that he didn’t tell you about?

Well, that would be awkward considering how loud you both had been last night.

You stand there stuck at the edge of the hallway, unsure of whether or not to take a step further and introduce yourself into the situation. Did he want you to stay back, hidden away? Was this a private moment amongst men? An after-hook-up catch-up?

Let’s be honest, men don’t do that like this.

The confusing limbo of the moment pushes you to just take a step, and try to creep past as silently as possible. Maybe you can get Jake’s attention. You take your first step, successfully staying quiet, but the second step screws you. As soon as your foot presses into the hardwood, a loud creek echoes below you.

“Is someone here?” The unfamiliar voice asks.

Shit.

He leans back down into you and enters your mouth. His tongue lapping over yours. Both of you are too concerned to stop for air, kissing each other over and over; trying to make up for the time that was lost. Tasting each other ferociously, like you were trying to practically inhale each other.

Without hesitation, a hand is reaching up to your breast. You’d completely forgotten that you weren’t wearing a bra when you left the house earlier. Granted, you hadn’t really worn a bra in days.

“I have been looking at these all fucking night,” Jake mutters through breaking breaths. He pulls away from your entanglement and lays his tongue across your jaw, licking up to the crest of your ear, “Such a fucking naughty girl leaving like this. You wanted to tease me, huh?”

You let out a guilty sigh, taking accountability for your teasing.

His hands run over your already sensitive nipples, toying with them between his fingers. Rolling the buds over the pads of his fingers.

Being here in his control again is invigorating. Just thinking about being so close to him again sends shivers of lust through your needing body.

He releases you from his tease and reaches up underneath your shirt to the collar. He yanks forward, pulling you close to him. The sound of cloth ripping alarms you both, breaking the intimacy for a moment.

The collar had stretched and snapped from his tight grasp, a tear present where stitches used to be. A look of apology flashes over Jake’s eyes. The moment is entirely unsettling to him, but for you, it just made you hornier. Knowing how strong he is… He actually ripped your clothes off of your body.

You laugh, allowing him to be rid of any true guilt, and lift the shirt over your head.

“It had to come off anyways,” You throw the shirt to the end of the bed, not breaking your eye contact with Jake, “Plus, it was kind of hot.”

“Maybe you need some new shirts,” He jokes.

He places one hand around the crook of your neck, and the other at the soft point on your waist. You collide back into each other, pretending that the accident didn’t even happen. It’s unlike Jake to be so stunned by something like that; you’d think maybe he’d even done it before- on purpose.

You reach your hands under his shirt, lightly caressing his back. It feels so soft, smooth… Comforting. You’re not sure if he’s ever let you be this cuddly with him, and it might never happen again, so you try your best to make the most of it. Reaching up over every inch of his body, trying to feel every muscle, every warm inch of his skin.

Your hands move to the front of him, nudging at his shirt.

“So, should I rip yours now?” You ask, teasing him.

“You better shut up before I have to make you,” He says through a smirk.

He balances his legs beside yours and leans back to take off his shirt. You can’t help but blush to see him undress in front of you. He is truly the perfect specimen- the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. His skin is golden in this light, god-like even. He has these soft formed muscles, not incredibly chiseled, but enough padding to know that there’s a real strength to him.

He perches back over you, inches away from your face. There is truly nothing keeping you from tearing back into him. His face seems gentler than ever before, caring and intimate. It’s incredibly hard to not want to step into your usual games, but feeling this new side of him is even more enticing. Instead of a feverish lust growing over you, it’s a soft blooming need to be close to him.

His brown eyes are deep and beautiful. His hair falls perfectly past his face, draping down in soft tangled curtains around him. And his lips… Look more inviting than they ever have to you.

He slopes down to your jaw and places caressing kisses along your skin, moving down to your neck. Each kiss is placed with more intent than the last, and then each one getting sloppier as it moves down your chest, around your breasts, and to your stomach. A growling excited moan comes from within him when he reaches your pant line.

Jake tugs his fingers on the elastic waistband, teasing you in the worst way possible.

All you’ve thought about since you’d first seen him today is how he looks going down on you. The sweat that perspires on his forehead, the grunting moans that he can’t hold back, his tight grab around your thighs. It’s what you need.

“I’ve missed this,” He tugs again slowly on the waistband, pulling it down just enough for him to see how wet you’ve already gotten in your thong, “Looks like you have too naughty girl.”

“Jake please,” You beg, “You know how bad I need you.”

He stops his pulling, and looks up to you, with a devious look plastered across his face.

“Why don’t you tell me how bad you need me?”

You rock your head back and whine to him, upset that he still can’t resist being a tease. You drop your eyes back down to look at him, staring intently.

“Jake… All I can fucking think about is you tasting me.” He continues to pull your pants off of you, “I keep thinking of that first night together. How special you made me feel…”

Your pants finally are strewn aside.

“Yeah?” He eggs on.

“It was honestly the best I’ve felt in a long time. No man has ever-”

The pad of his thumb is teasing your warming clit. Jake is resting by your knees, head propped up by his opposite hand, watching you feverishly try to beg.

“Go on.”

“No man has ever…” You look down to him, watching him slowly slip your thong down over your thighs, “Ever made me feel like that…” You lift your legs slightly to help him take them fully off of you, “And I need that again.”

With your thong to the side, he’s allowed the full sight of your needy cunt. You’re practically dripping before him. Just thinking of him devouring you is causing your body to fill with lust and desire.

“I want to try something with you,” He states. Your body instantly tenses up. You sit up and look at him, puzzled. “Don’t worry, nothing bad… I just think it will help.”

He crawls up to meet you and sits you up. You prop yourself up, completely in awe of how he couldn’t have picked a worse time to stop the momentum. You were so close to being attached to him again, but he has to keep you waiting.

“C’mere,” He says, wiggling himself behind you. He yanks at your hips and pulls them back to meet his. You feel something else pressing into your lower back, practically twitching with excitement. You try not to put your full weight back into him to protect him.

He snuggles his arms under you, running his hands around your body, still careful to avoid the areas you need him most. Soft whining moans escape your lips, you can’t hold them back at all; your body is aching having to wait.

“Can you show me how you play with yourself again?” He asks.

You lean your head back into his collarbone and look up to him. A serious yet cunning smile is already waiting for you.

“Jake, I thought you were going to take care of me?”

“I am sunshine. Just do what I ask… Please.”

The last part seemed painful for him. It was unlike Jake to use manners in the bedroom, but because of his politeness, you obey.

You reach down to your deprived clit, and start to swirl the pads of your fingers over yourself. Feeling some sort of touch, even if it was your own, made it clear to you that it wouldn’t take very long to get you anywhere. You try to be easy on yourself, not allowing yourself to get too far without feeling him.

Your back arches away from him and desperate moans break free.

“Please Jake, sir… Please.”

“You don’t have to call me that tonight sunshine. You’re my good girl tonight.”

He truly must not know how much the praise is killing you, or he does, in which case he is truly vile.

His hands still move unhurried around your torso. Each pass of him over you is breaking you down, pushing you further to a release in your own hands. Kissing and licking are happening on your neck, a nice distraction to what you’re feeling below.

“Jake…” You moan.

Your body is heaving from your touch. Feeling the soft skin run over your fingers, shooting waves of excitement down your legs. Your breath begins to hitch and you can feel the building begin.

Before you realize what is happening, Jake’s fingers enter you. He rests his chin on your shoulder to watch the mess you’re making. His fingers move in unison, gently running over your sensitive spot. It doesn’t take much movement for him to almost completely push you over the edge.

“Do you know why I wanted to do this?” He asks. You shake your head, unable to talk in fear that it may exert too much energy. “I can see all of you from here, I can feel your body get closer, I can feel your pulse against me, I can hear every little moan…”His voice is beginning to fade. Your core grows tighter in preparation for the orgasm you’ve been waiting for. You can feel his cock growing against your back- each moan that you gush causes a jump within him.

“C’mon good girl, are you going to come for me?”

You moan loudly this time, hoping that no one else in this house- well maybe even the neighborhood, can hear the pornographic noises coming from you.

Your cunt is practically red hot, feeling the pressure of him touching you, nudging you to finish for him. You can feel the wave forming within you, growing stronger and stronger with each stroke of your hands. This build was like nothing before, it was intense, almost too much for your body. You feel the overstimulation crawling through you.

Soft distressed gasps echo in the room, but Jake doesn’t let up on his movements. His fingers are practically going right through you. It’s too much, you try to slow yourself, to hold his hand in an attempt to slow it all down.

“Keep going.” He commands.

You try to keep moving your hands, but the bracing movements are pushing your body into an unknown state. Jake takes his free hand and takes over for you, completely shrouding your frame with his arms.

You can’t help but just watch him artfully manipulate you. He knows what you like- what you need. He pushes his wrist into your lower stomach, holding you down in between him. The rush is sweeping you. Hearing him- feeling him, you couldn’t hold on any longer.

“Come for me, baby.”

It all happens faster than you can even process. A rush of euphoria washes over you, each muscle contracting from the ecstasy. A loud blissful wail accompanies the feelings. Your whole body tenses, wanting to crumple itself, but Jake removes himself from you and holds you back, trying to relax you. Your legs shake, your core tightens. You spill out on to the sheets, feeling each wave of the orgasm pulse out of you.

You crash back onto Jake, turning your head into his chest. You rest your eyes and nuzzle into him. He pets the hair out of your face and squeezes you gently between his arms.

“Look what you did pretty girl,” He whispers in your ear.

You open your eyes with apprehension, unsure of what you could have possibly done.

The comforter is completely soaked beneath you. There is more of you there than there has ever been. You jump up and stare at Jake, completely embarrassed.

“I-I I’m sorry I didn’t-”

“Are you seriously apologizing for that?” He says with an excited grin, “Do you realize that is the best outcome of this?”

You look up to him with your doe-eyes, still feeling unsure of how that even happened.

“I’ve never…”

He takes your chin into his hand, “That’s because I’m the only one that can make you feel this special sunshine.”

There’s no hiding your presence now. You look down at your lazily dressed body and try your best to lift your boobs up in the shirt. Walking around with no bra when it was just Jake would’ve been fine, but around an unknown man… probably best to try and seem somewhat modest. One quick shove upwards, and you move down the stairs. Each step lets out a pained creak in the floorboards.

You peek around the corner, like a timid child, and see Jake sitting on the sofa. Across from him is a curly-haired man with his back to you.

Jake seems cautious to invite you into the room but nods to allow you into the conversation. You take a step forward into the living room, letting your presence be known by the guest.

The other man turns around to face you, and instant confusion sets in. The man is eerily similar to Jake, other than the hair. It sits in a wide curly mohawk, barely dancing down the front of his head. He has a different glow than Jake, it’s brighter- more welcoming. Their faces have similar qualities, features, and even mannerisms. Maybe their brothers…

The suspected relative leans back into his shoulder to get a better look at you, staring at you harder than you are at him. His mouth slowly starts to open, admiring your confused and revealing stature.

You pull your arms up and cross them in front of your chest, trying to hide your breasts behind your forearms. The staring was flattering, but also… a lot. I guess you know how it feels now…

“Jakey…” He plays, not removing his eyes from yours, “Whose this?”

Well, Jake hasn’t been telling him about your sex life together, so that’s one positive. Or is it? Why didn’t Jake say anything? Why wouldn’t he tell his guest that he has someone else here? He could have turned him away and told him to come back later, but he didn’t.

You take a step forward to introduce yourself, “I’m-”

“She’s a friend, Josh…” Jake cuts you off and runs over to your side. He rests his hand flat on your lower back and nudges you to sit back on the couch with him. You sit on the cushion next to where he sat and remain stiffened, trying to avoid eye contact with Josh. He still has yet to break his gaze at you, except now, Jake is included in this amusing sight. The stunned gaze resembles one of someone watching a boxing match; watching the tension thrown back and forth between the two of you.

Jake lowers himself onto the couch and turns to match your eyes, “A very good friend.”

Josh raises his hands in defense, “Oh, oh, you don’t need to give me much more than that. I get it,” He giggles, “Just hard to believe such a nice-looking little lady would have interest in you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You and Jake echo together. You both glance a confused look at each other. What was this weird defensive synchronization that was happening? Why would it be abnormal for you to be with Jake?… Maybe Josh knew the other woman Jake had pursued.

“Oh now now,” Josh adjusts himself more comfortably into the seat, almost perching himself on the edge. He gestures at you, “It was not supposed to offend you, but my twin has never been known for being a solid gentleman,” He leans further in and covers the side of his mouth that faces Jake, “He’s too rough and tough for that-”

“Josh-” You can see the anger mounting inside Jake. He’s already giving in to the stereotype Josh has put out. He doesn’t see it, but you can clear as day.

“Me, on the other hand, I am quite the gentleman,” He laughs, “if I do say so myself-”

“Josh!” Jake snaps.

Twin rivalry. The worst kind of sibling rivalry. It felt like being right back in your living room on holidays, watching your family bicker back and forth at each other. Knowing how to dig into everyone’s worst insecurities. Like an old married couple who’s known each other for far too long, knows every good and bad thing about each other, finding the perfect ways to jab in their soft spots.

Josh giggles at himself. It's blatant that pissing Jake off is a favorite pastime of his. I guess you share something in common, but at least Jake gets to take out his frustration on you in a far more… exciting way. You try to cut the tension and ease Jake.

“Well,” You reach over to place your hand on Jake’s thigh, trying to soothe him with a touch. He gingerly reaches back to place his hand over yours, “He’s working on the gentleman part, but I think he makes a great lover.”

Both of the twins turn to look at you, shocked looks expressed on their faces. Jake’s gentle touch on your hand becomes a grasp, crushing your knuckles between his fingers. You flash a remorseful grin at Jake, who isn’t having it. Josh cuts his giggling with a clearing cough and sits himself up properly in the chair.

“Well, that’s…” Josh covers his mouth with his hand, pondering the words he just heard, “That’s just great.”

Jake has still yet to break his glare at you, clearly being funny in that moment wasn’t the kind of soothing words he needed. It was your bratty side coming out again, embarrassing him in front of his brother. You’d be sure to pay for that later.

“So you guys are brothers?” You ask, trying once again to break the tension less bluntly. Jake loosens his grip on you, letting his fingers heavily weigh over the top of your hand.

“Well, to be particular, twins, bandmates… Sometimes roommates.” Jake grumbles.

“Well, we’ll always be womb-mates!” Josh jokes.

It was interesting to see Jake be put up against someone so close to him.

Josh is quite the opposite of his twin, very outspoken, and chaotic. It's almost like they split their personalities at a young age, neither one of them level human beings. One energetic and spunky, and the other moody and brooding. You imagine them as children, were they both once spunky and energetic, but took different roads, different paths, somewhere down the line? Imagining Jake with a childlike heart was melting you.

“So you’re the funny one, huh?” You joke back at Josh sarcastically.

“Precisely dear! You have to at least have some personality if you are the lead singer.” Josh raises his hand in a preachy theatrical matter, trying to play up each word he says.

“You don’t remember him from the set?” Jake asks.

He’s trying to belittle Josh and make him seem inferior. And he is. You don’t remember him. Shit. Watching Jake play caused a weird form of tunnel vision. Well, watching him and drinking those exceptionally strong whiskey sours. You try to find the right words to say, trying not to offend Josh and also trying not to reveal that you were staring at his brother’s dick all night.

“I’m sorry,” You say, “I don’t- not that you weren’t rememberable! But my focus was… elsewhere.”

Jake smirks. He liked catching you off guard at that moment, a slight torment for your quick remarks.

“Ah, don’t fret,” Josh muses, “You should come to our next gig! I’ll sing especially for you,”

“Hey…” Jake warns.

You turn to look at Jake, snapping a glaring look. Why shouldn’t you? Why would he try to quiet Josh’s invitation? The brat in you is filling up, taking over your mind. There would be no playing around or trying to hide from Jake. If he wanted you, he could at least act like it.

“You know what? I’d love that!” You exclaim, “When is it?!”

Josh starts to catch onto your tone and joins in, “Next week! At this bar a few towns over, but it's got a really great vibe and a dance floor!”

You perk yourself up and place your hand over your heart, resembling a shocked Southern belle.

“Oh! A dance floor?” Your tone is trying to be mocking to upset Jake, but it is nice to feel invited by his brother, “Too bad Jake doesn’t dance…”

You pout your lip out and turn to Jake. He won’t even look at you now. His eyes are locked on Josh; who is living in Jake’s discomfort. The anger is creeping through him, starting to fume. Josh and you both are piling it on, pushing him past where he’s comfortable.

To be fair, this is an extremely awkward situation. His twin is here, having a normal conversation with him, and you show up here, his… his lover? His… Not girlfriend. That’s very clear. Why not be fun and break the tension? Jake could have easily told his brother that now wasn’t a good time, or he could’ve tried to warn you. But he didn't.

You’re sure this was not how he expected the morning to go.

Josh leans forward and drops his head in fake dissapointment, “It’s really too bad for him…” He perks back up to engage with you, “Guess I'll have to save a dance for you when our set is over.” He winks and smiles at you, with a wild resemblance to Jake.

“Why thank you,” You reach your hand out and wave it at him, “You’re such a gentleman for offering.”

By this point, you both are fully aware of the game you’re playing. It's the ‘who can push Jake the furthest game’, and you’re both winning.

“Alright, alright,” Jake sneers through gritted teeth, “Josh, why don’t we plan the set tomorrow, okay?”

A furrow has appeared across Jake’s brow. He’s embarrassed, but too prideful to admit it. He’s being shown up by his twin, no doubt his previous rival in endeavors like this. You both are cutting into him, trying to make him vulnerable, but he won’t budge.

“Aww Jakey,” Josh whines, pouting at him, “We weren’t trying to hurt your feelings, little brother,”

You try to hold back laughter, but a small choking giggle escapes from within you.

“And, that’s enough of you today,” Jake snaps.

He stands up from the couch and paces over to the door, gesturing at it, ushering Josh to go. A disappointed and frustrated look is painted across his face. Instead of standing up for himself, he’d rather cut the whole conversation short.

“Jake…” you scold. You don’t mean to sound so demanding, but he is taking the jokes too seriously.

“No, no, It’s quite alright,” Josh stands from his seat and walks over to you, grabbing your hand from your lap, “It was a pleasure darling.” He lowers his head to place a soft kiss across the top of your hand.

You meet eyes as he releases his lips. He has that same devious smirk as Jake. You know he means no harm, and by no means does he want to pursue you- he just wants to get under Jake’s skin. Still, the gesture leaves you blushing.

You both linger there for a moment, trading secretive glances, knowing what turmoil you’re creating inside Jake. Before Josh can even release his hand from yours, he’s pulled away by Jake, yanking at him from the back of his shirt.

“C’mon,” Jake pulls, “You’ll have plenty of time to woo her at the show…”

Josh is giggling at himself, knowing that he’s leaving a mess for you to deal with. The realization of this situation is settling in your stomach now, knowing that once that door shuts out Josh, the angst will continue within these walls.

Bad behavior has consequences.

“I’ll see you!” Josh yelps before being shoved out into the daylight.

“You must be pretty tired after that, huh?” Jake asks.

You hate to admit how tired you were, but it was true. You wanted to keep going, to feel more, but you were completely overstimulated and feared what might happen if you were to continue.

It was already a long day full of emotion, some turmoil, and newness. Despite spending most of the past week in bed, resting, you still felt exhausted.

You drop your head, disappointed, “I’m sorry, I can-”

“You don’t have to do anything. It’s been a long day. Get in bed.”

You oblige, sneaking yourself under the sheets. He’d already taken the comforter off and assured you further that what you did was completely normal, and incredibly sexy in his opinion. A new blanket was strewn over the bed, and you were snuggling into the mattress.

Jake unhooks his belt beside you and takes off his jeans, getting himself comfortable. He lifts his side of the sheets and slides in beside you.

Both of you were face to face, just blushing at each other. He places his hand on your cheek and rubs his thumb back and forth over it. The most gentle and kind gesture.

“Just so you know,” He says, “No woman has ever felt as good as you… No woman has ever been as beautiful as you.”

You turn your head to meet his palm and place a kiss in the center of it.

He runs his hand to the back of your head and nudges at it to move closer to him. You scootch yourself into him, resting your head in his chest; bringing your legs up to sit around his.

Despite already seeing so much of him- having the best sex of your life with him- this was the most intimate moment you had shared.

This moment was everything. This night was everything. It was proof that Jake could try. That a future with him was a very real possibility. That you truly meant more to him than just sex. He could trust you enough to be comfortable with him. You never wanted this time together to end. Just laying here together in bed.

Jake slams the door behind Josh and immediately turns to you. He looks utterly ruined. Far past embarrassed, actually quite upset.

“Really?” He asks.

“What?” You snap back, settling yourself further on the couch. You cross your arms, trying to come across as nonchalant; as if nothing bad had happened. You truly believe nothing that bad has happened.

Jake matches you and crosses his arms, “Do not what me. Why would you act like that?”

“Hmm,” You mockingly ponder, “I don’t know, maybe it’s because I was surprise attacked into meeting your brother?”

Jake loosens his arms and walks back to the couch, positioning himself in front of you. Putting you in his perfect line of fire.

“Yeah, well he wasn’t supposed to be here. I would assume that you might behave if you came down.”

You purse your lips, trying to remain calm in this moment. Behave? Really. What were you? A twelve-year-old? You’re a woman who was put in a situation you weren’t expecting and was trying to get along with his brother. Setting good impressions for the family is supposed to be a good thing. At least you know that you and Josh would get along swimmingly but at the expense of Jake’s sensitive feelings.

“I was just trying to be funny. You’re just jealous of him.”

Jake chuckles softly, not believing the words you just uttered, “Oh I’m jealous? You seem to forget you didn’t talk to me because-”

“Jake that’s different-”

“Oh so you can be jealous, but I can’t get a little bothered by you flirting with my brother?” His tone is changing. The frustration is evident in his voice, the hypocrisy is getting to him. And he’s right, you have been jealous. You have had a hard time sharing Jake or even thinking about him with anyone else, or doing anything else.

But this is different.

Jake slept with someone who was a friend and tried to hide the information from you. You on the other hand were jokingly playing around with his brother. Maybe it was a revenge tactic… Maybe you were flirting, but it felt good to make Jake just as uncomfortable as you once felt. The toxicity between you is what sparks all the good things. The back and forth, the teasing, and the accusations, all lead to physical apologies.

“This is all completely different and you know it… If I’m being truthful, you haven’t always put me in the most comfortable situations Jake.”

That last part was cold but honest. You promised yourself you would be honest with him.

You can tell you struck a chord with him. The anger is still within him, and you thought telling him the truth would maybe help loosen its hold on him. But of course, it didn’t

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” He scoffs.

He may have anger inside him, but there is a much stronger force of annoyance pushing through you. For him to ask that question is equivalent to a slap in the face. Does he seriously not know what you mean? Mariella, confronting you at work, showing up to your apartment and dragging you out into the middle of a field, inviting his brother into the house knowing you were just upstairs sleeping…

All he does is push you into an uncomfortable place, but the moment you start to play around and make a few jokes, that’s completely unacceptable?

“Jake, you know what I mean. I want this to work out, but you have to consider how I feel sometimes too… I think that’s pretty reasonable.”

He scoffs again, crossing his arms in dismay. Your attempts at pleading are useless, mostly because he already knows what he wants you to say. He will always get his way. “You think I don’t care how you feel?”

“Oh, my god.” You throw your hands up in the air. Defeated. “Can you not be so defensive over everything I say? Can you have a little fun sometimes?”

“You think I don’t care, you think I can’t have fun…” Jake leans down towards you and pulls your face up to meet his. He stares deeply into you, his gaze burning. The arguing always gets the both of you going, it’s like a foreplay of sorts. It would be wrong to deny either of you the release you both crave. Neither of you are truly mad, but it's a game you play. You’re ready to let him take you, let yourself forgive him with his touch.

He runs his calloused fingers across the edge of your jaw. The burning exasperation lingers inside of you, but slowly erases with each second his skin is on yours. His thumb extends down to your neck, carrying his fingers to wrap around your neck. He squeezes you in his hand, careful to not let his displeasure translate to physicality, “Why don’t I show you how much I fucking care?”

“Yes sir,” You reply. Immediately, you assume your role. The softer Jake that was present with you last night has subsided, he needed to be himself again, and you needed to take your place as the submissive.

Your heart is beating in your chest, excited to be in this roleplay with Jake again. You feel the heat rushing down your between your legs, ready for more with him.

“Pants off, now.”

Taglist: @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @gvfpal @lipstickitty @anythingforjtk @giraffehippy @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @gretavansara @sanguinebats @awkwardlyamazing2000 @pinkandsleepy1934 @bajabule69

#jake kiszka #greta van fleet #greta van smut #greta van fleet smut #gvf smut #jake kiskza x reader #gvf fic #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka fanfic

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tigertofu · 8 months

Note

Hate to love headcanon between a fem!reader and North Yankton Trevor :)

fuck ya love the whole hate to love thing sm 😭 ...... also im sorry i struggle at making headcanon lists that are just pure n simple LISTS as they should be w/out slipping in some form of narrative sometimes and this prompt just lends itself to a story so well..... so this is some sort of half fic/half headcanon list monster. but hey this was rlly fun to write !!! ty as always for requesting 💞💞

pairing: fem reader/Trevor

summary: headcanons/short fic thing about a hate to love relationship between reader and North Yankton Trevor.

cw's: mentions of sex, alcohol

wordcount: 1,714

for narrative’s sake, let’s say that you are a small–time criminal in one of the many little podunk towns of North Yankton. one day, you catch wind of a new crew that’s set up in the area. four guys: a computer–hacking tech whiz of some sort; a big lug of a brute with a penchant for starting unnecessary barfights; a smaller, scrappier brute who’s already sniffed out and either done business with or scared off all the drug peddlers in town; and a stern ringleader who only barely manages to control his anger issues better than the others.

unbeknownst to you though, this crew has also caught wind of you. and one night, as you’re trudging through the snow to your shitty little studio apartment from the grocery store, a car pulls up alongside you and the window rolls down. the driver introduces himself as Michael. he tells you he’s heard about you; heard about how you’re one of the better thieves in the county. he tells you he’s got work for you, if you’ll take it. and ever the opportunist, you do.

a week later, you head out to meet the rest of the men you’ll be working with. they’re currently squatting in an old, abandoned hunting cabin out in the woods that border town. as you sit down for beers and talk with Michael and the computer guy—who introduces himself as Lester—you get a brief rundown of the crew’s history. they hit banks. this tends to cause a stir, so they’re almost always on the run; they landed in their current safehouse just two weeks before. while Lester and Michael cook up plans for the bigger, more dangerous heists, they make a living off of smaller endeavors. holding up gas stations, gutting truck shipments of electronics that Lester then sells off, sticking up gas stations and liquor stores. this is where you come in: there’s a well–to–do pawn shop in town, and Michael wants to hit it. but the people in your town are weary of outsiders, and the heat from the crew’s last bank job hasn’t died down yet. Michael wants you to go in and case the joint for them and, if you’re up to it, help them hit it.

right after you agree (so long’s you get a fair cut of the profits), the wooden door to the cabin slams open. two men stumble in. their faces are red from the cold and, when they get within your smelling range, you realize from booze, too. one’s tall, built like a truck, blond; the other’s got the scraggly, dark brown ends of a mullet peeking out from the edges of his askew trapper hat. there’s something animalistic in his eyes and in his drunken smirk and when he turns his gaze on you, you realize that despite his disheveled everything, he’s actually quite handsome. and you feel Something. a spark or a pang in your chest.

but then he turns to Michael and slurs, “If we’d’ve known you were getting a call girl tonight, Brad and I wouldn’t’ve stayed out so long!” and that Something instantly snuffs out as you now glare at the man with the mullet. you tell him you aren’t a fucking call girl as Michael lets out an exasperated huff and says “Shut the fuck up, Trevor.” but this Trevor guy has seemingly taken a liking to you. he saunters up to you, wavering on his feet, smirking like a cat with a mouse. asks you if you’re sure you don’t wanna make a bit of money tonight, ‘cuz he’s feeling awful lonely and you’re just a real pretty thing. you roll your eyes, tell Michael to keep in contact with you, and make your leave. you slam the door of the cabin shut on Trevor’s pleas to stick around and have some fun.

as you periodically meet up with Michael’s crew over the course of the next few weeks, your mild distaste for Trevor deepens to downright hate. sure, you think he’s attractive and you find some of his obscene jokes and observations funny, but mostly you just find them disgusting. every time he sees you he tries to coax you into bed with him, or convince you into a quickie in the car, or offers you a hit off his well-loved meth pipe, or asks you out on a date to the local tavern. you decline him every time, each “no” growing firmer and snappier. you don’t know why he makes you so mad. maybe it’s because if only he wasn’t so fucking annoying, you’d have fucked him by now.

the pawn shop heist goes well. so well, in fact, that Michael decides to keep you on for their next job: hitting a electronics store in a town a couple hours’ drive away. he sends you and Trevor alone to scope the place out. at some point during the drive, an argument erupts. Trevor asks you why you hate him. you tell him because. he asks what "because" means. you lose your temper, wondering why he chose to have this conversation now of all times, as you’re driving down an empty country lane through a nighttime snow flurry. you put on the brakes and park up on the side of the road and yell at him that you hate him because he’s disgusting, he’s pushy, and he drives you fucking crazy. as you catch your breath from your tirade, he is ominously silent. and then, in a low rumble that makes you feel things you wish it didn’t, he tells you that you drive him crazy, too.

you kiss him for the first time then and there, if only to get him to shut up. you fuck him for the first time then and there, too. an intense mix of hatred and lust that you’ve never felt before makes it rough going. while he’s got you twisted into a pretzel in the back of the car, fucking you like an animal, he keeps trying to praise you: telling you’re pretty when you’re mad, that he knew you had nice tits, etc etc while you keep snarling at him to shut the fuck up.

it’s good though, and addictive. from that day onwards, all your fights lead to angry sex. if you two start arguing in front of the others, you will both “disappear” soon after the yelling stops. if you two start arguing when alone—which starts to happen more frequently because, despite butting heads, you start to be okay with him showing up at your place unannounced—the spat will turn mid–fight into fucking.

at first, you insist on parting ways immediately after both of you are re-clothed. but then one night, after having sex in your bed, Trevor doesn’t get up to leave right after. he lays beside you, one arm slung over your bare stomach, his head face down in your pillow. and for some reason, you don’t try to push him out of your bed.

eventually, post–coital cuddling joins the mix. at first it feels wrong and gross. you haven’t quite gotten used to the various bad smells that usually cling to Trevor. but there’s something comforting about being in the arms of someone and having your arms around them after the intense emotional releases of an argument and fast, desperate sex.

he starts to stick around for long after you’ve both had your more physical needs fulfilled. you start to engage him in non–shouting conversation; start to get to know more about him. and then one day when he comes over, and there isn’t any arguments at all. just talking, drinking beers, and the slowest—which is still rough by most people’s standards—sex you two have had yet. he has a habit of sputtering out frantic “I love you”’s during sex, and it’s always annoyed and repulsed you. but this time is different. you tell him you love him to as you feel him finish inside of you.

as soon as your feelings are made known, he starts to relentlessly tease you. "Oh, but I thought you hated my guts!" he'll tease you about this so much that you'll start to actually hate his guts again during these moments when he pesters you.

for a few wonderful months, whatever is going between you two turns into a relationship. there isn’t much work for Trevor to do during this time, aside from prepping for some vague, big heist that Michael has cooked up for the crew.

by now, the other guys have long figured out what’s going on between you two. Brad frequently teases Trevor about it. Michael says he doesn’t care who fucks who, so long’s it doesn’t get in the way of your guys’ criminal careers. and it doesn’t. things go well, until—

eventually the day of Michael's big heist he's been talking up comes around. they're robbing a cash depot in town. you aren’t there for it; banks are a bit more dangerous than the marks you’re comfortable with robbing. Michael knows this and insists you sit this one out. but Trevor promises to swing by your place to lay low for a bit after the deed is done. all day you look forward to it, waiting for him to show up at your door with a big, manic grin on his face, ready to celebrate with drinks and a night in together. but then the time that he told you he’d show up at comes and goes. and then hours pass. night falls, and there’s still no sign of Trevor. you try calling him, but there’s no answer. as you lay in your bed alone that night, unable to sleep, you think that maybe the cash depot heist didn’t go according to plan and the boys had to skip town ASAP. you aren’t too worried, though. you know that Trevor can handle himself and you knew from the get–go that Michael’s crew is one that doesn’t like to stay stationary, so this was bound to happen eventually. so it’s not worry that keeps you awake until the early morning of the next day: it’s a bittersweet gratefulness for what little time you did get to spend with Trevor, and some slight regret that you hadn’t stopped hating him sooner.

#requests #trevor philips #gtav #gta v #trevor philips/reader #trevor philipsxreader #trevor philips/you #trevor philips headcanons #grand theft auto 5

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silverskye13 · 3 months

Note

is msh ever getting finished? i got so attached to them…

Hopefully yes. MSH suffered very hard from what RnS is suffering from now: a handful of chapters that, for no good reason, are terribly hard to write. I started and stopped the current chapter of MSH at least 8 times, and will probably do it 8 more times before it stops feeling like an awkward mess.

All that to say I plan on coming back to it, just as soon as it cooperates with me again. In the meantime, here's a snippet of the chapter that'll probably be cut but who knows:

The mist had thinned to a sheer veil by the time they made it to town, collecting in the dips and hollows in the fields like the bustles on a quilt. The sun worked hard to burn it away, but it clung stubbornly to the ground, making the air heavy and leaving dewdrops on every surface in sight. Even the windows of the houses were streaked with damp as though rain had passed over, and the half-clouded sky made the illusion all the more convincing.

This early in the morning, Haltvale was slow to come to life, but it was. Gardens were being tended, and people walked in pairs or small groups to their errands, rubbing sleep from their eyes and talking quietly. Theirs was the only wagon on the main road, a slow rumbling of solitary and distant thunder, and folks made room for them as though they were a rain cloud passing through. Ren frowned when he noticed it, casting puzzled looks at all the wary glances in their direction. The prickling of eyes watching etched patterns across his spine, and it disturbed him even more when he turned to confront those stares, only the watch as gazes abruptly averted and paces quickened. Doc seemed to sense it too, because he kept his eyes on the road, his expression grave. His normal bright and welcoming greetings were absent, replaced by hunched shoulders and the firm line of his frown.

"Did something happen?" Ren whispered, biting his lip nervously. "Everyone's on edge."

"Well I don't know, Ren," Doc smiled grimly, "has something happened in the past couple days that might put people on edge?"

Ren winced and rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously. He let the conversation drop just as quickly as it started, the trundle of their wheels on the rutted road filling the silence. At last, Doc pulled them to a stop by the general store and stepped off.

"Alright," Doc said, "you two stay close. I won't be long."

"We won't get carried off by any creatures in town, Doc," Gem said, poking her head up from the back of the wagon. "Besides, I need fabric, and you suck at picking it out."

"Fabric?" Ren asked, raising an eyebrow. "What in the world would you need fabric for?"

"Because someone keeps getting his shirts shredded by some creature in the woods." Gem answered with a narrow-eyed smile, daring him to argue. Ren coughed awkwardly into his hand and suggested: "My favorite color is red."

"You'll get what I get you," Gem sniffed, hopping down from the wagon.

"Am I the only one grounded to the wagon, then?" Ren asked.

"You're not grounded," Doc said, his voice dropping just a hint lower. "I ahm… I don’t want to be in town very long, alright? Meet back at the cart in an hour, two hours tops?"

Ren shrugged, settling back in his seat as comfortably as the wooden bench would allow. “You two have fun.”

“Weren't you just complaining about being grounded?” Gem asked, crossing her arms in feigned indignation.

“Well now that I know I'm not grounded, I'm choosing to stay here and nap while you two go do your errands,” Ren sniffed, pillowing his arms behind his head and reclining in a shaft of weak sunlight that dared to peak out of the clouds. “Go on, shoo.”

#answering asks #anonymous #monsters splitting hairs #kinda jaded about my writing atm sorry anon #im worried the Spring Slump has finally settled in #i dont want to do another haitus this year #it didnt feel good last year and it went on for far too long #i feel like i wasted a lot of time #but theres also not much i can do about it #[disconcerted noises]

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hearts4robs · 3 months

Note

Hello~!

I've never done a match up event before! But knew I had to try once I saw it was open cause your writing is absolutely precious!

For Fandom, I guess DC! Love Batfam family chaos! Makes me want to curl up with a blanket and watch them bicker and roughhouse until Alfred comes in with a feather duster, looking equal parts disappointed and amused.

I'm a 5'3 18 year old asexual panromatic. (Yes, im just a baby, though i have been told-more like my therapist often told me that i dont act my age, saying i act like Im 30. Still trying to figure out if I should be offended by that.) With long hair that's completely grown out red box dye like little mermaid red, my roots being somehow not quite brown not quite ginger and just not blonde enough to be strawberry blonde. My appearance is fairly round and cute even if my expression is often RB. My eyes are a green that appears to be more of a dark grey.

To sum up my personality in one word would be cat like. Sometimes I'm docile and actually a bit of a doormat. In new environments, I tend to shadow some I know and can't find myself able to stand up for myself. This is probably ties into my selective mutism and social anxiety. Sometimes, when I'm in a familiar environment, I tend to be more aggressive for better or for worse. I love a good argument and debate, standing firm in my decision even if I'm wrong. That stubbornness has gotten me in trouble quite a few times. Though cause of it, I've thought of becoming a lawyer. When I'm not arguing I'm drawing, or painting on my walls which I've done far too many times now.

I'm very much a homebody who rather stay in pjs but perfect date wise would probably be a bit of a classic nerd/bookworm date of going to a cute book store and getting lost in the deep wooden bookshelves flicking through various of books catching my eye. Maybe debating on what book is better or whatever trope is more interesting in a detective novel. (I love murder mystery, horror, thrillers, romances of all types, and absolutely despise shakespeare. I was told Romeo and Juliet was a tragic romance. Liars they all are all I can see is the making of a really creepy stalker movie. I can't watch horror movies funny little contradiction, right?) Personally I'd probably write something after the date. I always get inspired by going out and always find myself hunched over my laptop writing whatever inspired me have it be the moment or a movie. I don't know how many times I've watched a movie and got inspired just to spend hours writing whatever fanfic about it. Which can be either amazing or terrible cause I'm an okay writer with a preference for angst due to my dark humor.

I never realized how hard it was to pick an ideal type until just now lol. I guess my type is someone who would enjoy talking/debating/discussing with me, someone fun who loves to do new activities as ive never really do much and is willing to listen to me ramble about whatever hyperfixation. Bucket list kind of things or be able to stay in and talk about their day while I cook some food. (One of my love languages is food. I want to be full and content.) I'm a homebody who has more of a traditional mindset due to my upbringing. So staying home and activities at home would probably be more common. Oh! A bit more open minded or at leasr able to deal with my curiosity, I love discussing religions and culture practices (im unfortunately like the whitest of whites. My dad's side is a bit of a classic white racist). I'm a pagan with some more Wiccan practices, yes crystals and candles. We put holly near our front door and hang cinnamon brooms throughout the house to bring good fortune.

Trope is also a hard pick. I like a good enemies to lovers or a revenge story but romance wise probably a childhood friends (or friends to lovers) idea. Just the idea of your partner being someone who was your friend since you were a tot and chasing butterflies, picking dandelions to blow them into the wind. Someone who has looked at you like your the center of their world while you pull them through the park. Even though they have no idea what lo6ge is truly is. Just kind of melts my heart, and will probably give me cavities from the fluff.

Ahh hopefully I did this right! Sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes. Hope you have a blessed day, and something amazing happens to you soon <3

𝐓𝐢𝐦 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐤𝐞: 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞-𝐨𝐮𝐭

“I’m back!” Tim exclaims out into the open hallway as he pushes the door closed with his foot. There were multiple white, thin plastic bags in Tim’s hands, his keys dangling from one of his fingers.

You raise your head from the book in your lap, leaning forward to catch a glimpse of your boyfriend as he shimmied his way out of his shoes.

“Hi, honey.” You smile at him as he walks to the coffee table in front of you, setting down the bags of different take-out.

“Alright.” Tim sighs with a grin, his chest heaving a bit quicker, like he was a bit out of breath.

“What’s all this?” You ask, reaching over and pulling some of the thin plastic away from the food. “Smells amazing, no doubt but-“

“Well, you said you wanted to taste the world.” Tim says, a giddy smile on his lips as he plops down onto the couch beside you with a sigh. “So I brought it to you.”

You smile at him before snorting out a chuckle.

“Fuck you.” You say, and Tim simply smiles before grabbing a small box of thai food, handing it to you, giving you a chance to get the first bite.

“You’re welcome.” He says, nuzzling a small kiss to the softness of your cheek.

Headcanons:

Tim and you have annual movie nights. Every Friday night. Very simple, very easy. You have a joint letterbox account where you leave brutally honest reviews and you both analyse that shit like your life depends on it.

When you guys moved into your shared apartment, Tim dedicated one of the walls of your living room for you to paint and draw on. Needed more space? He’ll paint it over with whatever background colour you need.

You guys have a small chalk board on your fridge. It was used as a small shopping list at first, like writing up stuff like ‘ran outta eggs and cucumber’, but it quickly ended up in Tim leaving you cute notes and reminders for when he was gone on patrol.

Tim doesn’t always understand your asexuality, and he struggled to figure out how to relieve himself, but he figured out a solution and tries to turn the topic whenever someone discusses it to the point it makes you uncomfortable.

I hope you like this </3 it’s a bit late and honestly a little rushed but I’m trying😭🙏this also ISN’T proof-read so I’m so, so sorry if there’s mistakes☝️☹️

#★ robins match up event! ★#★ robins events ★#I’m just tapping atp #dc #dc x reader #sfw #tim drake x reader #Tim Drake x reader sfw #red Robin x reader #red robin dc

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boba-beom · 1 year

Note

GROCERY SHOPPING WITH GYU / MIDNIGHT CONVENIENCE STORE RUNS WITH EVEN BETTER MIDNIGHT CONVERSATIONS PLS PLS PLS 😭💔

ANONIE YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND HOW OFTEN I THINK ABOUT THIS ☹️❤️

you'd be messaging each other back and forth late at night and he'd just think, why not just talk in person? so he'd leave you on read for a long while lmao and go to your place, standing outside while he looks at the lights through the curtain of your room, and send you another text saying '7/11?' or any supermarket name etc that's open 24 hours.

I can definitely see him walking beside you with is hands in his pockets while you're walking beside him with your sweater paws or he'd even offer to link your arms together to give you some sort of body warmth. as soon as you arrive at the supermarket, he'd just follow you to whichever aisle you make a beeline to.

he'd see you being humble with your selection of snacks and he'd nudge your arm, looking at you with his brow cocked up and say, "are you sure that's all?" he'd shake his head as he grabs some more of your favourite snacks, "here, it's on me. so don't worry, okay?" but in reality we know he just wants some too hehe

no because I LIVE for midnight conversations sm 😫 you would both sit on the curb by the shop, or even walk around the area a little to find a brick wall or a wooden bench to sit on, and as soon as you take your snacks out, you both start talking about the most bizarre things, making each other laugh, sharing snacks between you both. I feel like you'd have interesting conversations with gyu, to the point you'd both be like, "I swear, we need to make a podcast." and convince each other that thousands of people would listen to your unserious conversations.

but when the night starts to turn into dawn, the conversations tend to simmer down and reach a little more into the deep end. and for sure you'd be hesitant to talk about something that you've never told anyone else before, but he would 100% reassure you that he is there for you and what's been said will stay between the both of you. I even see him holding up his pinky finger with a gentle smile on his lips, his eyes waiting for you to hook your pinky onto his and make a promise. why? because he trusts you and he hopes that you trust him too, regardless of whether you're just friends or more than that 🥹

at that time of night, he gives me the definition of calm and comfortable. you just feel at peace, and like it's easier for you to breathe. and if you get colder, he'd either scoot a little closer and invite you to lean into him while he has his arm around you so you continue talking until sunrise. or he'd offer to head back to your house where you're sitting on the sofa sharing a blanket, still talking about everything and anything with the dim, ambient lighting until you no longer need that due to the sun peaking through the blinds :(

I love how common long conversations / late night conversations with gyu is and it's just a universal theme :'>

send me soft / hard beomgyu thoughts <3

#I really went all in for this because I go late night grocery store trips with my bsfs a lot recently #and it always ends up with us going to one of our houses to continue talking until like 4am :')#beomgyu fluff #soft beomgyu hours #anonie ❁#[ 🪴 ] — asks.

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thiswasinevitableid · 1 year

Text

Deep Down (Indruck)

The winner of the "mer society" prompt poll was: Cultural differences between surface mers and deep-ocean mers. Duck is based on a Senator Wrasse and Indrid is based on a Gulper Eel). This fic is NSFW and contains mentions of ovipostion, but none actually occurs.

How can anyone live down here?

Duck disembarks the VertoSphere miles below where he’s ever stopped before. It opens into an abyss, so dark and empty he fears he set his coordinates too low and now he’s hovering above the Marianas trench.

He swims forward and bumps into something solid. A wall of glass coral. At his impact, a familiar an unexpected voice floats from a recording above him.

“Hello. This is Vincent Mullidae, head of transportation and Security for the Greater Pacific Region. Welcome to the Midnight Zone. If you are a resident, please feel free to draw the open symbol and be on your way. If you are visiting, please float by for more instructions.”

Duck sets the two, woven bags he’s brought with him on the floor and waits.

“If you know the name of your destination, please state it now.”

“Uh, Indrid Cold’s house?”

A pause, then yellow and pink pinpoints of light flicker in the water beyond the glass, “This color indicates the route to that residence. If at any time the lights go out, you lose your path, or you need to change course, use the tablet provided before your departure to locate the direction. It is advised that any mers unfamiliar with the area stay on the lighted paths at all times. Are you ready to proceed?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

Nothing happens.

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

“Thank you for traveling with the Pacific Municipal Vertosphere System, and enjoy your stay.”

The glass parts and he swims into the unknown. It’s a relief to find that the lamps lighting his path cast a wide circle in spite of their gentle glow.

He’s not a kid. He knows that the stories about deep sea mers lurking at the edges of trenches or the border where the light stops reaching just to drag unsuspecting sunlight mers down to do who knows what with are made up. Relics from a time when mers had shittier communication and couldn’t travel between the levels of the ocean to get to know each other. All the same, it’s hard not to see tails flicking just out of view, or imagine that the other lights he sees–mainly pathways and store fronts, now that he’s closer to the town of Sylvain–are lures meant to coax him to his doom.

Plus he’s pretty sure there are still some big-ass sharks and squids down here.

Now and then another path flickers to life, but as he understands it the local mers don’t really need the illumination to see, since they long ago adapted eyes that could pierce the darkness. It’s both useful and comforting when another path appears–each one in a different combination of colors–since it reassures him that he’s not down here all alone and also gives him a sense of the basic layout of the town.

It turns out his host lives on the end of it, and he swims up to a sea cave with an oddly rectangular opening. He raises a hand to knock at the wooden door, clearly salvaged from a wreck, when a face appears in the porthole.

“Ah, Duck Newton. Welcome” The door opens, revealing a mer with a long, black tail dotted with a line of silver dots along the top. These match his hair, which is half tied out of his face, giving Duck an unobstructed view of his glowing, red eyes and face that reminds him of sharp, pale coral. He’s a good head taller than Duck; unsurprising, given that deep mers tend to be larger than those who live in the sunlight zone.

“Please, come in. Apologies if I gave you a start, I can see the future, which means I’m always a little bit ahead. I did manage to get your room ready before you arrived; as you can see my home isn’t large, but I hope it will be to your liking.”

“Long as it’s got four walls and a roof, we’re good. I stayed some pretty bare-bones places doin’ field work.”

The other mer pauses, “Do sunlight mers also make homes from bones?”

“Uh, not usually? More like decorations or jewelry, since anything real big dies or falls down here. Mostly meant that I stayed places that weren’t much more than a glorified hole.”

“Ah, I follow. Here we are.” The mer gestures to another wooden door. Duck opens it to find a simple, seagrass bed, rock shelves for all his supplies, and plenty of lights nestled into the walls. There’s also a mosaic on the ceiling, shells and bone and debris from human wrecks cobbled together into a stunning,swirling pattern.

“Wow. You make that?”

“I did. I wanted my guest room to feel welcoming.”

“Mission accomplished.” He swims in and sets his bags by the bed.

Indrid trills in thanks, and several points of light flash blue at the end of his tail. Duck doesn’t mean to stare, but he’s never seen a light display before. The deep mers he’s met in the past were always up in his realm, where such flashes either weren’t necessary or were easy to miss.

“A rather odd place for it, I know. I do have these, but they only light up on command, not automatically.” The silver spots on his tail disappear as a row of feathery spines rise, “although these have the benefit of being slightly poisonous if something bites them or I pull one off and jab it into them.”

“Yeesh, you ever had to do that?”

“A handful of times. Mainly to other mers when I was younger and the deep was less…settled. It isn’t permanent, it just induces sluggishness for long enough for me to swim off.”

“Wow. Mers back home will just grapple if they’re really pissed over something, but most of the time you just gotta tell them to back off and they will.”

“Then I shall make a mental note not to wrestle you.” Indrid smiles, suggesting he means this as small talk, “I have some errands to attend to, but please make yourself at home. Anything in the kitchen can be shared.”

“Got it. Thanks, Indrid.”

The other mer swims towards the hall, then pauses, “Oh, and do not go beyond town once a string of red lights to the left of the house turns on. That means the giant anglers are about. It happens once a week or so. Well, see you soon!”

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Everyone he told was surprised Indrid had agreed to host a sunlight mer. None were half as surprised as he’d been when the futures suggested it was a good idea.

A corps of them has been sent down to study various parts of the deeper ecosystems over the course of five months. Indrid fully believes in cooperation between deep and sunlight mers, and has traveled upward on more than one occasion to lend his services as seer. But those trips involved very little contact with sunlight mer society more generally, and even with Duck having been here a few days, Indrid still fears he’ll be too awkward or alien and the other mer will request a new host.

It doesn’t help that he’s been called weird by other deep mers. It’s not his fault that his tail wiggles that way when he’s extremely happy, or that certain fish down here are too gelatinous for his tongue and he’ll refuse them rather than seize any meal that goes by. And he doesn’t mean to have odd manners; it’s just hard to remember all the rules of interaction when he sees others so infrequently. Even with a town in place, many deep mers venture into the sea beyond for weeks at a time.

The first week of Duck’s stay is going well, but he remains nervous no matter how kind and polite his guest is. But today, Duck asked him if he was willing to guide him to an area where certain, dark-loving anemones grow.

They’ve found the spot with little issue, and Duck is now flitting from rock to rock with understated delight.

“Lookit the shape of the base. I wonder if that helps ‘em..hmm, if I can just” he peers at where it's anchored to the stone, “no, ain’t that. Hmmm” As he swims to another outcropping he stops, looking at Indrid, “do you need to go back? Don’t bother me none if you stay but me starin at plants ain’t the most exciting thing in the sea.”

“I’d like to stay. I find it rather peaceful out here.” He settles on a rock as Duck nods and gets back to work. He sorts through some futures, lets his mind wander, but mostly he watches Duck move from spot to spot with a growing desire to see his tail in full sunlight; the green is doubtless dazzling.

“Oh damn, Indrid come look at these!”

He swims over to find Duck shining his penlight on a cluster of pale, swaying shapes.

“Ghost seahorses! I know we have them but I never manage to spot them.”

“Looks like the anemone let’s ‘em live on it. So fuckin’ cool” he makes notes into his recording shell, then waves Indrid over to ask him if that rock is supposed to be glowing (it’s not, it’s an orange spitfish in disguise).

They spend enough hours talking, or simply working and watching in companionable silence, for them both to become ravenously hungry. Once they arrive back at the house, Indrid sets out crab for dinner while Duck puts away his supplies.

“Any chance we could turn the heat up? Think the spot we were in all day was in a colder current than usual.” Duck rubs his arms to warm them as Indrid turns the knob to draw in more heat, once again grateful for whichever of his peers figured out they could guide steam up from the deepest ocean vents to heat their homes when needed.

They’re chatting about Duck’s youthful misadventures hanging out in abandoned human piers when a shape catches his eye through one of the only other windows in the house. He puts a finger to his lips and takes Duck’s hand, guiding him over to the window. He presses a button, sending deep red light across the rocky alcove, allowing Duck to see what he does without scaring away their visitor.

“Holy fuck, I didn’t know umbrella octopuses could be black.” Duck moves closer to the glass.

“As far as I can tell it’s rather rare. I started seeing one this color years ago, and left out food to entice it and other tentacled friends to visit. They are not long lived, so I suspect this one is the offspring of the one I saw when I first moved in.”

“Thanks for lettin’ me see him too.” The other mer glances at him, smile warming him more than a dozen trips sunward.

“My pleasure.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------

Duck’s packing up a box of recording shells to send up to the researchers who stayed in the sunlight zone when there’s an argument at the door. Poking his head into the hall, he sees Indrid’s tail flickering orange and red.

“For the last time, if you want predictions that complex, you have to bring payment with you. The contingencies alone will take me hours to sort through.”

“Fine” The voice at the door snaps, “I’ll bring you something. Keep your tail here until I do.”

Duck bristles at the tone; no one deserves to be spoken to like that, least of all someone as captivating as Indrid.

“What was all that?” He swims to the door as Indrid leans against it, arms crossed.

“A party of mers are going out in search of a giant squid. I assume to sell to humans or to eat. They want my help but keep trying to get out of paying for it.”

“Can’t you just take an IOU? Back home we do that all the time, figuring folks are good for it. Or you do a favor knowin’ they’ll do one for you down the road.”

“I wish it worked like that, but deep mers are still so prone to limited interactions with each other it is hard to trade favors. And an IOU is useless when so many of us are content to disappear into the abyss rather than make a home somewhere.”

“Makes sense. You want me to catch dinner so you can wait for ‘em?”

“Please.”

Duck picks up some crabs–Indrid and he both like them, and he happens to know these ones are pests if you live in a house made of wood, bone, or both–and returns to find Indrid dragging something white through the front door.

“Is that-”

“-whalebone? Yes. And big enough that we can throw out that uncomfortable bench in the main room and replace it with this.”

It’s a good idea. Besides, then Indrid could paint or carve into the bone, really make it nice and, and…

And Duck should stop thinking about that. About staying. About this being his home, too. Eventually he’ll have to go sunwards again. So he should just enjoy his time with Indrid while he has it.

—----------------------------------------------------

“Inside! Get back inside!”

Duck reverses course, backing into the house as Indrid comes barreling towards him. The instant the other mer is in, he slams the door and hurriedly swims to each window.

“What’s-”

“-Biting shrimp, an entire migration of them. And worse, after that subsides three days from now, we have two days of red devil squid to look forward to.”

Duck shudders, “Those come up sometimes to feed and I fuckin hate ‘em. One nearly took a chunk of my tail.”

“Hence my absence this morning and my hasty arrival; I had to warn as many neighbors as I could before the swarm began. Ugh!” He flinches as the first few shrimp hit the windows, “I hate them, the biting is bad enough but they crawl all over you and I HATE how their little feet feel–no don’t open that!”

“I won’t let ‘em in to crawl on you.” Duck opens the side window enough to reach his hand out and grab the black octopus, who wriggles in alarm until he releases it inside.

“Oh. You…you wanted to save Void. I mean, ah-”

“I know you named him, ‘Drid. Heard you talkin’ to him the other day. His kind ain’t feisty, and it’d break my fuckin heart to look out that window and see a squid get him.”

Indrid’s tail flashes light purple, “Thank you. I am sorry, I was hoping your time down here would be pleasant but alas, the sea had other plans. We have more than enough food, so hopefully it will not drive you mad to spend five days stuck in the house with me.”

Duck can tell when a joke isn’t a joke, and so he swims close enough to brush his tail along Indrid’s, “I like your company plenty, ‘Drid. Besides, this ain’t all that worse than seabird season; can be minding’ your own business and then BAM, something dives after a fish and smacks into you instead.”

“Goodness, that would be startling. Even for me.”

“My buddy Ned got one tangled in his hair once.” Duck moves to the dinner table, “wanna play Ten Shells before dinner?”

“Oooh, yes please!”

The first two days don’t feel all that strange. He and Indrid eat their meals and play games and listen to books or nap, often side by side. But by day three his body and brain register that he’s been cooped up instead of out in the kelp forests and reefs (or the crags and open ocean, as the case has been these last few months). Sensing his restlessness, Indrid pulls a surprise from the pantry.

“Coconut wine? Damn, how’d you get this?”

“A friend of mine who’s a cook. He likes to send me care packages since moving upwards.”

Indrid’s bedroom is the most insulated from the sounds of the shrimp hitting the house, so they’ve taken to spending a lot of time there, safe from the skitter of thousands of feet. Void floats after them, in search of either kelp snacks or new items to take apart or squeeze inside of.

The wine goes down easy, so easy that when Indrid suggests they open another bottle Duck is all for it. By the time his tablet shows its sunset on the surface, he and Indrid are well past tipsy, trading stories of their younger days and travels.

“You, y’know, a, a buddy of mine swore he took a summer trip and hooked up with a deep mer that had six eyes and, and six dicks.”

Indrid laughs, “Claiming both is, hic, rather a stretch. I’ve known, hic, a few with four eyes but, hic, never six.”

“What about the dicks?”

“A gentlemer never, hic, tells.”

“Aww, c’mon.” Duck rolls so his head is on Indrid’s shoulder, “always wondered if, if deep mer fuckin’ s’wild as they say.”

“Mmm” Indrid rubs their cheeks together, “because every–hic–one knows sunshine mers only kiss in the clear blue water and, hic, mate after marriage.”

Duck giggles, “Pfft, naw. Get up to plenty of wild stuff. Just, y’know, when you’re all sixteen and shootin the shit, someone always talks ‘bout a friend of a friend who got carried off by a deep mer and came back swimmin’ funny or with bites. Or didn’t come back at all ‘cuz the deep mer was so horny it kept ‘em.”

“Goodness” Indrid’s tail flashes deeper and deeper purple, “we don’t do that. No, hic, no matter how fun it sounds. Unless you, hic, think it sounds scary. Then it’s scary and I’d, hic, never do it.”

Duck nestles closer, blushing “Definitely jerked it a few times thinkin’ about it. And if it were you…wouldn’t be scared of you. Couldn’t be.”

Indrid trills softly, tail a pale blue, “I would never want you to be. No matter how fun it sounds to hunt you.’

“Thought you didn’t eat us.” He teases.

His friend yawns, then curls his tail beneath him, “Some deep mers prefer quick mating, hic, sessions. But others prefer to draw them out, to chase each other down once they’ve agreed to, hic, be together. Both come are holdovers from when it was much harder to find others in the, hic, dark depths. I always preferred the hunt.”

“Let you hunt me anytime, darlin.”

A gentle purr as Indrid takes his hand, “Let’s let the wine wear off first. Then we can talk about it.”

Duck snuggles in for a nap, “S’fine by me.”

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

After a long talk and what felt like an even longer wait, Duck floats in the main room, realizing just how much a courtesy Indrid did him by keeping the lights on all the time. Because with them all off he can’t see more than a few inches in front of him.

He swims forward, unnerved by the fact he has no idea where the other mer is; the house isn’t that big, and Indrid isn’t small. So where the fuck is he?

“My, my. Whatever is a little ray of sunshine doing down here?”

Duck spins to his left in time to see glowing red eyes appear in the darkness, accompanied by a possessive, green flash of the tail.

“I, I don’t mean no harm. I was out for a swim and I got turned around and with all those squid around I had to find shelter.”

“I see…” The red eyes move closer, “and you’re not at all here because you’re a nosy little thing who wanted a peek at some big, scary, deep mers?”

“No” he gasps as Indrid’s tail coils around the base of his own.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you what happens to sweet, warm sunlight mers who wander too far from home?”

“N-nope” He shivers as Indrid’s tail loops tighter. Is it really so much longer than his?

“Then allow me to enlighten you: it is a lonely life down here. My own kind prefer to move, never settling in one place, which makes, shall we say, courtship? Difficult. Which is why some of us like to find a foolhardy mer who swam further than they should and keep them as nice, soft toy. Or place to lay, if that’s one’s preference.”

“It ain’t!” It’s more of a squeak than he means it to be, but all the same he wrenches his tail free and swims as fast as he can away from Indrid. This doesn’t get him very far, and he pretends not to know where the bedroom doors are as Indrid rounds the corner after him. The other mer hits a rock on the wall as he does this, bringing enough light to the space to reveal himself.

If Duck really was minding his own business and turned to see that rushing towards him, he’d be terrified.

As it is, the most he can manage is a moan as Indrid catches him with his arms and tail.

“Such a rude guest, running away from the one who gave you shelter.” He plucks a spine from his tail and jabs it into Duck’s own. It doesn’t hurt, but Duck thrashes to keep up appearances.

“What the fuck was that?”

“Some insurance against you running off again. It’s not as if I need you mobile for this.”

Duck’s tail is barely strong enough to keep him afloat, his arms feel heavy, and his brain is foggy, meaning it feels like a slow-motion dream as Indrid pulls him in for a kiss. It’s shockingly gentle given the context, and even the little nip to the corner of his mouth as Indrid pulls away feels sweet.

“Much better. Come along.” Indrid carefully guides him into his bedroom, pausing as they reach the pile of seagrass that he nests in, “sweet one? Are you certain you’ll be able to respond if it becomes too much?”

“Uh huh” Duck pets his face, “feel a little loopy, but I’m all here.”

A relieved smile turns sharp, “Good. Now let me see what I have to look forward to.” He pushes Duck onto the bed, curling their tails together as his fingers tease the sensitive patch of scales near Duck’s belly. Duck whimpers as they ripple open, revealing his slit and several short, flexible tendrils on all sides of it.

“Oooh!” Indrid trills, tail wiggling even as it holds Duck in place, “you sunlight mers, every part of you is so welcoming.”

“Fuck you.” He gasps as Indrid sinks his teeth into his shoulder. The pain doesn’t let up until he actually cries out.

“Now, now, don’t fuss.” Indrid grins, “If you behave I will have no need to do that again. Here is what will happen. I am going to try you out, and if I enjoy myself, I will keep you.”

“I, uh, I ain’t gonna, I won’t, uh, fuck.

“It doesn’t matter if you enjoy it. I just said it was for me.” a hungry purr, “and how could I do anything but enjoy myself, with a lovely thing such as you?” Indrid moves a hand down his tail, gripping the base of the cock emerging from his slit. It’s thicker at the bottom than at the tip, though there are two short protrusions on the tip, giving it the appearance of horns. Two rows of bumps run along the bottom, which is a new one for Duck.

He tries to back away but the combination of Indrid’s grip and the poison make it impossible. All he can do is lay there as Indrid slides in with a low, possessive trill.

“Nnnnf, oh you are wonderful. So warm, so soft” he digs his fingers into Duck’s belly, “I, I do not know why any of you waste your time up there, when clearly all you were meant for is being willing holes for mers with far harder lives.”

“No, no we’re not.”

Indrid thrusts harder, “‘We?’ Not ‘I’? Interesting. Maybe you did come down here just for this.”

“Uh uh, I didn’t, I FUCK” he moans as the horns at the tip of the dick begin moving on their own.

“Do you like them? They double as ovipositors. Right now they’re, ah, investigating to see if you’re the right place. Ohoh it seems you like that.” Indrid grins triumphantly as Duck’s tendrils coil around the base of his cock.

Duck nods, too overwhelmed by the feeling of Indrid inside him, of their tails twined together, to keep up the ruse of resistance.

“Good. Now, let me see, if they’re positioned like that…”

“AHFUCK” Duck clings to Indrid’s biceps as he fucks him harder, the motion functionally jerking the tendrils off, “fuck yeah, that’s it’s darlin.”

“Oh I’m darling now, am I? I like the sound of that.” He nibbles Duck’s neck, “such nice manners you have up there.”

“‘Drid, please, please I’m gonna cum if you keep doin’ that.”

“That’s rather the point. Well, that and fill you so full you never doubt who you belong to now. But no laying today, I think. We can do that later. It’s not as if you’ll be going anywhere, my lovely little cocksleeve.”

Duck cums with a groan, the sensation heightened by the fact the rest of his body can do little but twitch as it races through him. Indrid pounds into his limp body with a triumphant snarl, tail and spines flashing blue and purple as he cums in him with a trill.

They roll onto their sides, in no hurry to separate, and Indrid coats his face in slow, loving kisses until Duck drops it onto his shoulder.

“Satisfied, sweet one?”

“Fuck yeah. Sleepy too, but I can’t tell how much is from you stabbing me or you just wore me out.”

“Technically both are stabbings.”

Duck snorts a laugh and headbutts his shoulder.

There’s nothing but the faint sound of Void playing with a puzzle cube until Indrid murmurs, “I wish you could stay forever.”

“Me too. And maybe I could, someday. Or maybe you could stay with me.”

“Dearest, your trip ends in two months.”

“So? Don’t even take twenty minutes from here to home in the VertoSphere. We could visit each other whenever we want. There’s some places up there I’m dyin’ to show you. If, uh, if you want.”

Indrid cuddles closer, purring, “You would truly let a deep mer be your partner.”

Duck kisses his nose, “Hell yeah I would.”

#indruck #mermay #duck x indrid #indrid cold/duck newton #mermaid au

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