#like its fine its played off as hot or whatever and she's into it because she's in love with him and has been since book 2 but it sucks | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luvyeni · 6 months

Note

WHAT IS UP‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

okay instead of going straight to my request, I’ll ask you some simple talk questions. how was your day today? was it good or bad? why was it bad? what did you do today? did you eat good food today cause i know i did.

ANYWAYS MOVING ON

what about…ghostface!hyunjin from skz and he just stalks poor reader and basically tells her that he can SMELL her arousal through the phone since reader as a mask kink and she thinks having ghostface as her boyfriend is hot, and then he comes out of nowhere and starts teasing her and poor reader is just so shy now that he’s in front of her and he’s like “aw poor baby is shy now that im right here. what happened to all that big talk on the phone?” idk just add whatever you want!

if u don’t wanna do this plot that’s fine!! i just need ghostface jinnie. im really desperate

❛IT’S A SCREAM, BABY!❜ ( h. hyunjin )

💬nias notes: i guess this sorta part of freaktober since its hallowen themed

p. x fem!reader w. 1.7k+

warnings? unprotected sex, knife play, degradation kink, a little blood and fingering

— 𖦹 ( you can’t help but tease the man in the mask, that’s until he catches you ) !

“Did we even learn this?” You read through the notes on your laptop. “This is next week's problem, I can’t.” You closed the laptop, getting up, going downstairs to the kitchen for a snack.

“I need to but more” You took ice cream from the fridge, your phone ringing making you jump. You smiled, knowing it could only be one person calling you. You threw the wrapping away, running back upstairs to your phone.

You reached your room, quickly picking up the. “Hello,” You smiled, even though he couldn’t hear you. “Hello princess.” His voice was distorted, it made your panties soak immediately. “Did you miss me?” You laughed, “Of course I did.”

“Where are you?” He chuckled, “You know it’s not that easy.” He says, “Let’s play a game, you hide, and I try to find you, and you win I don’t slit your throat.” The man in the mask spoke through the phone. “What happens if you win?” You questioned. “Princess, you don’t want to know.”

“What if I don’t want to?” You teased, knowing you shouldn’t provoke him. “Princess, you know how this works.” His voice seemed to get deeper even with the voice modifier. “You don’t have a fucking choice.”

You got up, slipping on your slippers, leaving out the comforts of your own room to go and hide from the masked man. “I’ll give you to the count of 60 find a spot in the house.” You took off as he began to count down.

Finding a spot in a cabinet, you tucked yourself away. “Princess, you’re so predictable, it’s almost adorable how dumb you are.” You whined, he laughed. “Here I come princess.”

“You know it’s not really safe for a pretty girl like you to live in such a big house alone, too many bad men out there.” He spoke. “Like you?” He chuckled. “Yeah, baby like me, but you like me, don’t you?” You hummed. “I do.” You spoke.

“Yeah, I know you do, otherwise you would’ve called the cops by now.” He spoke. “Instead, here you are answering my calls for the 3rd time, you get a kick out of this, nasty girl I can almost smell how aroused you are.”

You felt your breathing pick up, you tried to hold your breath. “You scared princess?” He said. “No baby, I know you, you’re turned on right now.” You shuffled around, it wasn’t much space to move around so your leg was slapping against the cabinet. “No.”

He chuckled, you could hear him scraping his knife against the wall through the phone, turning you on even more — it was sick you knew that this shouldn’t be arousing you the way it is, your panties shouldn’t be sticking to your folds like they were. “Such a shit liar baby, I know what gets those little gears going.”

“I’m not scared.” You kept a brave face, “Because I know you’ll never find me.” You chuckled. “Really princess, you wanna take a chance like that?” You hummed, “Yes, I do.” You spoke. “Oh, princess you really are dumb.” Your thighs clenched together.

You heard a few steps outside of the room you were hiding in, your breath hitched. “Ah baby, I think I found you.” He said, just as you heard the click of the door. “You’re in here aren’t you?” You didn’t say anything. “Where are you princess, let’s make this easy.”

You stayed silent, even when you heard his voice right out of the door, His knife tapping against the door that was keeping your safe. “Hmm, I guess I was wrong baby, guess you really are good at this game.” You heard his feet retreating, then the door closing.

You let out a sigh, this room was no longer safe — you waited another few minutes before quietly climbing out the cabinet, making your way to the door, quietly opening it so you wouldn’t alert the masked man.

Before you walked about the door was slammed in front of you — you gasped at the thud. “Stupid Stupid baby.” You heard a slight glee in his voice. “Now you should’ve known better.” He flipped you around, pressing his cold blade to your neck, you whimpered at the sensation.

“Pl-please don’t hurt me.” He smiled, even though you couldn’t see it through the mask. “Awe poor baby is scared now? Hmm? No that’s not it.” He lightly dragged the knife across your throat, you bit your lip, trying to hide your face. “Awe that’s it, you’re shy.” He chuckled. “Awe poor baby is shy now that I’m right here. what happened to all that big talk on the phone?” He teased.

He dragged the knife to thin strap of your tank top, slicing right through it, repeating on the other side, the flimsy material falling down — your hands flew to cover your boobs. “Move.” He said. “Move your hands pretty, before I cut them.” You slowly moved your hands, letting your boobs freely bounce. “Nice princess, such pretty tits.”

He moved his knife across your boobs, grazing your nipples with the blade. You whimpered, biting your lip. “Keep hiding those pretty nosies baby, i’ll get you to scream for me one way or another.”

He dragged you back to your room, knife pressed against your neck — as well as his hardening cock pressed against your ass, throwing you on the bed, your boobs bouncing upon impact. “You look so scared princess; it’s turning me on.”

He climbed on to the bed, hovering above you — his knife dragged along your stomach until it reached your panties. “No pants, I knew you wanted this my slutty baby.” He chuckled. “Dumb baby likes to be fucked by slashers in masks like a whore.” He cut right through your panties. “You’re sick baby.”

“Pl-please.” You moaned out, he threw the cut panties somewhere — pressing the tip of the blade on your clit, you gasped. “look who wet you are, you shouldn’t be this excited about this, I could easily cut your pretty body.” That just cause slick to stream out on to the blade even more.

“You’re fucking dripping.” He removed the knife from your clit, replacing it with his glove clad finger, rubbing harsh circles. “Th-that feels good.” He pressed the knife against your hip bone. “D-do it.” You said.

He pressed down, you let out a loud moan as the blade pierced your delicate skin. “Fu-fuck.” He watched the blood from the small cut, your cunt clenched around his fingers. “You’re gonna cum?” He laughed. “Me cutting you made your little pussy clench, go ahead and cum.” He curled his fingers, making your eyes roll to back of your head, cumming.

“Nasty baby.” He pulled his fingers out of your cunt, your essence stuck to his finger, tapping on your lips. “Open slut.” He pushed his finger into your, ordering you to suck. “Good whore.” He pulled his fingers out, slapping your face.

He climbed of the bed, getting rid of all his clothes, except the mask. “Th-the mask.” You said, he cocked his head to the side. “Don’t be dumb baby.” He climbed back on the bed, grabbing a hold of your wrist, pinning them down with one hand. “You like this mask anyway, that’s why your dripping like a whore, trying to hump my thigh.” You moved your hips. “Be still.” He warned.

He pulled his under down enough to pull out his hard cock, his mushroom tip red and dripping with cum, veins adorning the sides. “Is this what you want?” He slapped his length against your folds. “Want my cock.” You nodded, whining. “Pl-please.” You begged, “W-wan’ it so bad.”

He slid right in, wasting no time. “Shit.” He cursed. “Tight fucking cunt.” He pulled out, slamming back in. “Fu-fuck!” He began to move, his cock dragging along your walls. “Feels so fucking good, your pussy is soaking my cock.” He grunted.

He began to pick up his pace, slamming into your hole over and over. “Fu-fuck t-too much.” You screamed, trying to wiggle away, but he held your hips, holding you in place. “Don’t run from my cock slut, this is what you wanted.” He pressed the knife against your throat. “You wanted this, too be fucked like a whore.” He growled. “So *thrust* fucking *thrust* take *thrust* it.”

You were a mess, moaning as he fucked you. “Look at you all fucked out, dumb baby.” He said, his cock hitting your cervix. “Soaking up the sheets over a mask, so sick baby.” You moaned. “I-i’m cumming!” You squealed out, the blade cold against your warm skin. “Hold it, i’m not there yet.”

He sped up his movements, fucking into at a almost inhumane pace. Panting as he chased his high. “C-can’t hold it.” You whined. “I said hold it, if you cum I cut your throat.” Shit, that didn’t help at all, in fact it only made you clench around his cock. “Fuck! You’re squeezing my cock.” He grunted. “Fuck i’m gonna cum, gonna let me breed your pretty pussy?” You nodded. “Pl-please.”

He thrusted into your cunt a few more times, spilling his cum into your cunt. “Fuck that’s it, take my cum.” He sighed, he pulled out just to his tip, covering your outside folds in his cum, pushing himself back in. “Keep it inside.”

“Yah, take the mask off now.” You said, reaching for it, he grabbed your wrist. “Please I want to see your face.” You pouted, he let your hands go, reaching for the mask, revealing the raven-haired man, his face was dripping with sweat.

“You okay, pretty girl?” You nodded, he smiled, throwing the mask somewhere, you gasped. “Hey, don’t break it, I paid a lot of money for it.” He scoffed. “Of course, you did, you’re sick baby.” He kissed your lips. “Only I could fall in love with a crazy girl who’s obsessed with ghostface.” He pulled out his now soft cock.

“It’s not like you weren’t turned on either.” You fought back. “You came 3 times as much as you normally do.” He nodded. “Touché baby, it was hot.” He said, “But I can’t promise i’ll use that knife again, don’t wanna hurt your pretty skin like that.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to.” You said, he helped you get cleaned up, nursing your wound from the blade. “It should clear up in a few days, it wasn’t a deep cut.” He kissed your waist.

He joined you in bed, pulling the the covers over your naked bodies. “Did you like it baby?” You nodded, “You make a good ghostface.” You ran your fingers through his hair. “Only you would say that.” You laughed.

“You know you love me.”

©LUVYENI

1K notes · View notes

crazyoffher · 8 months

Text

THOUGHTS & PRAYERS.

jenna ortega x fem!reader

summary: drunk at a party, it takes you more effort to calm jenna's actions than you expected.

warnings: smut (18+) — masturbation, strap-on referred to as “cock”, praise, teasing, small mention of light choking, finger sucking, nipple sucking, slapping (yippee!), shortly withheld orgasm, begging -> mentions of alcohol (drunk!jenna), weed, and use of vulgar language. dom!r + sub!j

word amount: 4700+

a/n: happy (very late 😭) birthday, wes :) @wesstars

“Maybe we should go, Jen.”

You tugged the short girl by her arm mindlessly, failing to remember her drunken, unstable frame of mind. She stumbled into you, her hands moving to stabilize herself on your chest with a sharp yelp of terror.

Your hands wrapped around her waist to keep her upright, sending fake smiles to those who eyed the two of you. “Sorry! This is what I mean, Jenna. You’ve had enough to drink; why don’t we call it a d-”

“No!” Jenna’s face buried itself into your chest for a split second, seemingly to catch her breath, before she pushed herself off you with a lazy grin. “I’m fine, love. Go,” she pushed your chest playfully, “and enjoy yourself for once! I’ll be by the table.”

Her speech slurred, and you reminded yourself to give a couple of her friends an earful later for getting her into that state. You watched with a sigh as she stumbled into the house's living room, shoulders tense from your worry, and you laughed at the irony of her words. She was the one causing you the stress she claimed you needed to get rid of, so how could she advise you to unwind?

You followed your feet to the backyard of the house, where the view of a softly illuminated pool area and the scent of the outdoors offered a welcome contrast to the raucous noise of people chatting loudly over booming music and the lingering smell of alcohol and marijuana (along with whatever else was circulating inside the house). The only break in the noise was the group of four people by the hot tub, engaged in animated and playful banter.

The pool shone as you grew closer to it, sitting down on the edge of it with your knees hugging up to your chest. You never liked loud things or partying, and everybody you met and knew found humor in it, as that was mainly what your entire acting career was built around. You couldn’t go a month without being dragged to a lousy party that consisted of at least one person trying to get you high, and hell, the only reason you went to the one you sullenly found yourself at currently was because of your girlfriend.

“Uh, hey.”

Your mind snapped away from your lost thoughts, and you turned to be met with a girl who gave you a delicate smile, wrapped in a towel with wet hair dripping down the top of her back and onto the covering fabric. “Can I sit with you?”

You only nodded, the tips of your fingers drumming along to a beat that played in your head, to try and disregard the half-naked girl beside you. She didn’t seem to be much of a bother, though, awaiting only the soft company that she felt you would provide.

“Not a talker, I suppose?” Her head quirked up from its formerly bent stature, turning with raised eyebrows in the hope that you’d answer her question, which you did. “Not really with people I meet, let alone a girl that seems to be naked underneath a towel.”

Her smile grew at the monotone joke you spurred, and she let out a mild breath to resemble the humor she found in it. It was only when she first sat down that you realized, from your peripherals, that there was no strap of a bra or bathing suit visible on her shoulders, and you almost knocked yourself in the head in a physical manner for not realizing sooner.

You questioned her. “Come on; aren’t you freezing? It’s like 45 degrees out.” Your neck craned away, feeling your tenses of shivers overcome you, and you pondered how the girl seemed unfazed by the chilly weather. “I grew up in Minnesota. I used to go skinny dipping in frozen lakes, so I think I’m good for this weather.”

Her speaking to you made you feel uneasy in a way, considering the lack of clothes she stood in and the thoughtless conversation she was advancing toward you. Jenna would undoubtedly give you an earful for even allowing her near you, but you shook the thought away at the girl's following words and the overcoming fact that Jenna was probably cornered by flirtatious men at that moment.

“Plus, this wasn’t even my idea.” She gestured to her covered body, and you picked up on the fact that she was referring to her lack of clothing. “It was my boyfriend's over there. Bet me around twenty bucks I couldn’t last in that volcano pool even in this weather, but that sucker quit before I was even getting started.”

Her finger stretched outward, pointing in the direction of a man covered in two towels, visibly shaking from the frostiness, and you let out a small snicker at the sight. Alright, maybe it wasn’t such a tense situation then, but you still couldn’t help but worry about Jenna in the back of your mind and whether you should go check on her.

As if the universe could read your mind, your phone buzzed with a custom ring that you had designed for Jenna’s messages, and the semi-naked girl's eyes widened at the sight of you practically clawing into your pants for the device. You pulled it out with strength, almost dropping it into the pool in the process, before hurryingly clicking on Jenna’s message.

Com gt me i thined ive hac enuh two drivnk

Where are you?

K154hen flerr

“What do you think this says?” You pointed your phone toward the girl, darted a finger at the most recent text sent by Jenna, and her eyes squinted in an attempt to decode. “Kitchen floor?”

“Bingo.” You rang, pulling yourself up from the concrete floor, and the girl held onto her towel as she managed to get on her feet. You darted your eyes between her and her boyfriend, who still sat there, wrapping a third towel around him that seemed to be for the remaining people in the hot tub, and you raised an eyebrow at her. “Well, if you excuse me, I have to go and retrieve my drunk girlfriend.”

“I might as well go with you,” she said as she adjusted the towel, turning to glance at her boyfriend. “I left his and my clothes in a room upstairs, and I think he needs his.”

“Be my guest.” You moved to the side, allowing the unnamed girl to go ahead, to which she sauntered, giving her boyfriend a warning of her temporary absence as she headed up the small hill to the back door with you trailing behind. The stench of weed and alcohol hit you like a flash flood, and you mentally recoiled at the stench that seemed to have grown stronger.

“Jenna?” You called out as you turned to the kitchen, swerving past girls and guys who were spilling their drinks, and you spotted the girl on the floor with a tired expression etched on her face. A smile grew on her lips at the sight of you, though it dropped almost immediately when her eyes met the semi-naked girl behind you, who whispered to you with curious eyes, “Hey, I think you forgot to mention you were dating Jenna Ortega.”

“Hey!” You lunged forward at Jenna’s attempt to stand up, holding the drunken girl in your grip when she stumbled on nothing but air, though that didn’t deter her attitude toward your new friend. “Keep away from my girlfriend!”

“Jenna,” you warned, sending the girl behind you a look of sorrow, to which she just nodded, “Relax, baby. You’re drunk, you know that?”

“Nuh-uh.” She pouted, clinging onto your torso in an iron-grip hug to try and divert you away from the girl, sending her looks of anger that she seemed to back up at. “I’ll go get my clothes.” She pointed to the stairs behind her all the while backing up, to which you nodded while trying to stabilize Jenna further.

“Yeah, leave, you whore!”

“Jenna!” You scolded her, and she muttered something incomprehensible before burying her face in your chest. You could smell the mixture of alcohol and her perfume, and that alone told you enough about her current state. “You got it?”

“Mhm.” She hummed when you had to pull her away from you and set her on her feet, only for her to take one step forward and crash into the table in front of her. You held back a laugh and put on a face of worry, pulling Jenna up only to see her laughing at her tumble.

Once more, she wrapped her arms around you and buried her face into your chest with a sigh, her drunken haze spurring more than just her inability to walk stably. “Do you know what I would love to do?” Her words were slurring, and she gave out a slight giggle at the end of her sentence, giving you a small idea of her next words.

“What is it?”

She spoke one word that you couldn’t comprehend before she giggled again, moving her face from your chest to raise herself an inch or two on the tips of her shoes, her lips grazing your ear as she spoke out a slurry, “For you to bend me over this table and fuck me raw for everybody to see.”

Your eyes widened immediately, and you felt a small burn in your stomach when her fanged teeth nibbled gently at your earlobe and her hands slid down your abdomen. You could only thank God and your alcohol-addicted party-thrower friend for managing to get 95% of the party attendees drunk out of their minds.

“Freaky and tempting,” you said, leaning into Jenna’s touch and watching a small grin tug its way onto her face, “but no.” And so you pushed her away, getting a small whine out of her while her hands bawled into fists on your shirt, trying to pull you closer to no avail.

You wrapped an arm around her shoulders, your hand gripping the base of her right one as you tugged her along and out of the kitchen area. “Now come on. I can’t drive you home without the fear of you somehow making us crash, so you are going upstairs.” You pointed to the staircase that the two of you advanced toward, and Jenna let out a small giggle at the thought of you and her alone in a guest bedroom, her mind rushing to dirty thoughts.

It took a while, with emphasis on the ‘while’, to get Jenna up the stairs; her legs seemed to have forgotten how to raise themselves, so with multiple rounds of struggle, you ended up dragging her by her torso up the stairs while she laughed wildly. Your key plunged into the hole of the lock, cracking open the door with the small piece of metal your friend had gifted you when he first bought the mansion, seeing as he kept all his guest doors locked for privacy.

“Okay, ther- baby, no.” A grunt left your mouth when Jenna attempted to pull you down on the bed with her; a loud whine of her own left her mouth when you pulled away your hand that was formerly in her grip, trying to be pushed down into her crotch.

Her head dug into the bed, whining from the sexual denial you granted. “Why not?”

“I’m not going to touch you when you can’t give me a truthful form of consent, baby. I’ll be back.” You turned to the door, shaking your head at Jenna’s loud groan at the idea of your temporary departure. “We’re dating, for fucks sake! How much more consent could you need?”

With a slight hop in your step, you hurried down to the kitchen, where you had previously encountered chaos, to get water bottles with the intention of trying to sober Jenna up. You ran into your friend on the way back up, and he gave you a good laugh at your explanation regarding Jenna before approving your request to stay the night.

“Just don’t fuck in my bed, ‘aight?”

“I promise I won’t!” You meant it at the time, though your statement didn’t withhold itself later, to his demise.

“Jenna?- oh!” You shut the door behind you quickly, gulping at the sight of Jenna sprawled out on the bed, her pants long discarded on the edge of the bed along with her underwear, and her hand in between her legs. She moaned breathlessly, finding relief in rolling her hips into her hand, and she bit her lip to suppress a moan when she locked eyes with you.

“Please, baby, this isn’t enough.” She begged, her hand circling her clit with a sloppy pace, and her heaving breaths contracted her sentence. “Need you so bad, please.”

Your hand dove for the door handle from behind you, turning the lock, and that gave Jenna a glint of excitement; she’d finally get what she desired and-

“No, and drink these.” You put your hand up, referring to the four water bottles that you managed to stack into a single hand, before walking forward to set them down on the nightstand beside the bed.

Jenna’s hand retracted from her clit, the nub throbbing with need, and she pulled herself up with the remaining strength that held her to sit on the edge of the bed, facing you. “I can see it,” and even through the slurs, her voice still sounded like honey, “You want it too, and this is me giving you my co-consent, or whatever the hell it is you want.” Her arms stretched forward, grabbing you by the shirt and pulling you flush against her, hands snaking to your bottom half with an erratic shiver from you.

“Please,” Her thighs managed to encapture your left leg, and she wasted no time in thrusting her hips into your clothed body, a burning sensation pooling its way back into her stomach. “Fuck, I need you, ri-what the-?”

She yelled out in shock, pulling away from you and moving to wipe off the liquid you had thrown at her face. “What the fuck, (Y/N)?”

You sighed, closing the cap of the now half-empty water bottle before throwing it toward her. “Is that bringing you to life, finally?”

“I’m not drinking this.” She argued, throwing it toward you just for you to deflect it and toss it back in her lap. It only took the look in your eye for Jenna to open the bottle and start drinking, shrinking under your dead gaze and dribbling water on herself.

She maneuvered around on the bed in discomfort from both her wet shirt and her aching clit, moving to discard her shirt. Jenna’s body was breathtaking, and she still found hope that she’d get what she desired most when you couldn’t tear your eyes off of her perky breasts no matter how hard you tried, eyes darting back and forth to try and not make it obvious, but she could see right through you.

“(Y/N),” she whispered, her words like silk, and you turned your head to meet her gaze. “Please.”

Her voice, formerly smooth, had turned desperate, her thighs rubbing against one another to find a sense of relief, and she whimpered at the small senses of pleasure while making eye contact with you. You practically drooled at the sight of her completely naked, desperate for your touch, and you didn’t know how much longer you could hold off.

“Jenna?” Her head shot up at your voice, the same sense of desperation lingering in her eyes and through the small whimpers that left her mouth. “What’s your last name?”

“Ortega. Is that good enough confirmation for you now?” Her voice grew in angst, becoming more deterred by each moment you left her naked, completely vulnerable, in front of you.

“Alright.”

You sighed, and before Jenna could comprehend what you had said, you were on top of her with your legs entrapping her thighs, pulling her into a brutal kiss that she immediately reciprocated. Her hands roamed your body, sliding underneath your shirt to feel the way your muscles contracted under her touch, sending excessive shivers down your back that she ached to deepen.

In a merciless grind against your clothed core, Jenna's hands dug down to your belt, only to be slapped away and repositioned above her head, linked together as your hand bound them with your wrist. Her back met the bed, and you wasted no time in angling her head to the side with your other hand to sink your teeth into her neck flesh, like a vampire, to create a later painful and dark hickey—a marking.

“Fuck.” She moaned out, eyes shut, with a whimper to follow at the piercing mania. As you felt up her waist, your fingers trailed along the center of her body before you licked her neck, moving your hand per the arch her back made. Jenna’s fingers dug into your scalp, pulling you closer to her neck while she resumed her hip movement.

“Come here,” you whispered, removing yourself from Jenna. A whine fell from her lips until she was directed onto your waist, her breasts jumping straight in your face, and you sneered in satisfaction. Your hands ran up and down the outline of her body, feeling the way her body curled inward from her perfect figure, and you always made sure to acknowledge it.

Your eyes traced from where your hands led before meeting her gaze with a tilt of your head, and how your eyes looked oh-so innocent drove Jenna’s mind wild, a drastic comparison forming from her desperate, needy eyes. She followed your eyes as you moved your head forward, taking a nipple into your mouth, sucking on it feverishly. You relished the way Jenna reacted: a loud moan, head flying back, and her hands digging into your scalp to push you further into her, if possible.

“Agh- fuck!”

The contact itself wasn’t all that pleasurable, but the recognition that it was your mouth on her body was enough to send her mind spiraling. She was too swept up in the lust, acting as if she had never experienced one’s touch, to pay attention as your fingers slid into the tiny space between her core and your waist until one of your fingers bumped against her clit. A loud gasp erupted from her, and her hips immediately ground down into your hand.

“Baby, no,” you warned, but she didn’t stop her movements, pushing and rolling her hips into your hand to gain sensational pleasure. Boldly, she reached both her hands down to grasp at yours and push it further into her core, but her plan would not succeed by itself.

You pushed your body forward, leading Jenna’s movements to a halt in a collapsed state. Now resuming the position on her back, she let out a whine that grew into a loud yelp when your hand met her dripping pussy with a harsh smack. “I said no; you got that?”

When she didn’t reply, you sent another smack to her pussy that made her legs shake, a blissful whine erupting from her, and she nodded her head eagerly. “Yes!”

“Good girl,” you purred, leaning your weight down to give her a chaste kiss on the lips. Your fingers lingered on her cheek, running their tips along her jawbone, before you withdrew your hand to deliver a light smack to the skin, compelling Jenna to groan and bite her lip. “You’ll never realize how mad you drive me.”

Jenna’s eyes widened when she felt a hard surface rut against her dripping core, drowning the surfacing fabric of your pants in her slick, and she bit back moans at the slow pace you ground on her. “You’ve had that the whole night?”

“I didn’t expect you to get drunk, baby,” your thumb encircled her lips, “and I didn’t want to do anything else tonight but fuck you rough in that pool outside, but this will do.”

Jenna sucked on your finger when you inserted it in her mouth, running her tongue up and down the skin, and it gave you a purposeful reminder of how she’d suck off your strap-on any day, her knees constantly bruised from the wooden flooring she’d kneel on while whoring out her mouth for your cock.

The imagery that flashed through your mind made you drive your thumb inside her deeper while your other hand worked at your belt, taking off the leather lining to release the grip it had on your waist. Instead of unbuttoning the clothing article, you simply unzipped it to open the crotch and wasted no time in pulling out the silicone material, pushing the tip against Jenna’s clit to send her mind spiraling.

She let out pitiful moans as you continued to finger-fuck her mouth, ‘accidentally’ pushing the silicone tip further into her clit and making her hips buck up in desperation, and her teary, doe-eyed pupils looked up at you with silent pleads. You enjoyed the view more than anything; finding Jenna underneath you, so needy and ready for your cock, was a sight people yearned for, but only you could ever get it.

“You want it, hm?” Your hips drew forward with a stern smirk growing on your lips, swiftly entering the tip halfway into her before snapping your hips back, and Jenna bit at your thumb. The hair that covered her face in her disheveled state jumped up as she nodded her head eagerly, finding difficulty in begging when your thumb was knuckle-deep in her mouth, tickling at her throat.

“I can tell; you’re practically drooling, baby.” A dribble of spit was rolling down her chin, and you knew it was solely because of your thumb shoved deep into her mouth, but why waste a perfect opportunity for teasing? It’d be so unlike you.

With a loud pop and a string of saliva attached, you removed your thumb from Jenna’s mouth, and she let out sharp breaths that soon grew into whines of discomfort. Her whines grew heavier as she started to grind her hips into your cock, her head flung back, and her hands gripped the bedsheets with intense strength while she tried to bring herself to orgasm from just grinding on you.

“No, alright? Can you hear me this time?” You pushed down on her hips in an attempt to still them, but your words only fell on deaf ears. Her movements were unwavering, and she pressed herself against you while whining louder and louder. Her back arched, and her nipples hardened from the intensity of what she was feeling, all the while disobeying your command purposefully just so she could feel something.

A shaky moan escaped her lips when your hand brought itself forward for a harsh smack to her breast, immediately taking two fingers to tug at her nipple afterward and leaving Jenna to choke for air. “What, you can’t fucking listen to me? I said no.”

Jenna never got her chance to apologize insincerely, flaring her mouth with the expectation of words to come out, but the only thing that left those plump lips was a high-pitched moan at the unexpected movement of you sinking your entire cock into her. Despite having no neural connection with the silicone that drove your girlfriend crazy, you could feel Jenna stretch around it, and the acknowledgment alone could have left you braindead.

“Fuck,” you groaned, finding pleasure in the dumbed-up expression on Jenna’s face alone, “taking me so fucking well. I can almost feel you, baby; it’s driving me insane.” Your hips retracted with no intention of slowing down, finding enjoyment in the tormented countenance that shone on Jenna, the pain and pleasure mixture practically splattering on her face.

You thrust along at a moderate speed, holding Jenna’s waist and upholding her slightly to drive your cock deeper into her, forming her into a moaning mess in a matter of seconds. Even through the loud music booming from outside the room, your attention was focused on the breathtaking girl in front of you, all submissive and so needy for you with those pleading whines that left her mouth, mindlessly begging you to go faster.

“Yeah, want me to go faster, hm?” Jenna’s head perked up at your inquiry, bobbing back and forth in a wordless answer, and you gripped her nipple tight once more. “You have a voice. Use it.”

She let out a whiny “please” before reaching up to grasp your hand that was around her breast for support, discreetly trying to roll her hips further into your cock. “I said to stop doing that.” You tugged at her nipple upward, farther than last time, and Jenna let out a shriek at the shock of pain that inflicted her. “A simple please won’t get you anywhere; you want to act like a whore tonight? Then beg like one.”

The only thing that left her lips was a grunt when you snapped your hips forward, bottoming into her with a single movement, and the slowed retraction of your hips was enough to get her going. “Fuck, please, baby! I need you so bad…” Her words droned out in a sobbing tone, throwing her head back in disoriented whines. “Need you deep in me right now. Please.”

You bent down to give her a kiss of appreciation before driving your hips deep inside her. A girthy moan left her lips that turned into high-pitched moans when you thrust faster into her, holding on to her hips for support. You met her eyes, melting in the way they looked up at you with a combination of gratitude and pleasure. Oh, how she looked so pretty under you.

Your pace grew faster by the second, sweat beads forming at the edge of your hairline while your hand dove down, rubbing Jenna’s aching clit. Her back arched up almost immediately, letting out a moan that you’d be surprised nobody heard even through the music that played through the house, droned out between the two of you behind the locked door. Your eyes lingered on the way her thighs started to tremble and the way her breaths grew heavier between moans, making you smirk in satisfaction.

“God, I wish I could feel you, ‘cause I know that you would feel so good.” You breathed, unintentionally letting out a small moan that was soon discarded from Jenna’s mind when you snapped your hips roughly, sending her mind spiraling. “You’re close, hm? Think you can hold it off for a little, baby?”

“I-I’m not sure,” she managed to say, her mind dumbing down when your hand slithered up her chest to squeeze lightly at her neck. Her pleasure increased with each passing second, and her cunt ached for a release that she knew she could not grant without making you angry at her for disobeying.

“Just a little longer, okay?” You reassured her, not failing to notice the way your movements became more restricted. Jenna’s walls tightened to hold back her orgasm, which desperately ached against the walls of her cunt. Her breathing labored as her hands clawed their way up to your shoulders, pushing you down and against her to hook her thighs on your hips.

Her head leaned into the crook of your neck, filthy moans leaving her mouth instantly when you spewed out the words, “Cum for me,” and so she did. As she rose to her high, your hands dove to her back, arms encircling her torso. With each passing second, her body trembled increasingly, until the only sensation left for your hands to hold onto was the feeling of her labored breathing.

One of your hands made its way to her chest, dipping between the small gap of her breasts to settle over her heart, soothing the area with your thumb while you directed her breathing to try and ease her mind. “Are you okay?”

She only nodded her head, her hands sliding their way up to the back of your head to pull you in for a deep kiss, showcasing her appreciation despite her former misbehaving antics. You gave her a solemn smile, rehooking both your hands on the small of her back to push her onto your lap. Your back met the headboard, and Jenna’s head dipped down to give you one more kiss. Shivers ran down her spine when your breath tickled her ear.

“Think you can give me one more?”

☟

taglist: @grandpatrolnut @annalestern @rhythm-catsandwine @yara124 @daryldixonsw1fe @alexkolax @red1culous @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @n0vabug @idkwimdtbh @yolehiho @likefirenrain @ctrlamira @lovelyy-moonlight @dunohilly @jjsmaybank20 @xzennypennyx

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday addams #celebrity x reader #jenna ortega smut #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x reader smut #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna marie ortega #tara carpenter #tara carpenter smut #wednesday addams x reader #lorraine day #writing #fanfiction #smut #lesbian

2K notes · View notes

astrophileous · 6 months

Note

hi! is there any chance you could write a scenario for spencer with a plus sized reader? love your writing! congrats on the milestone and happy birthday month 💕

tyyy so much anon 🥺❤️ I hope you're happy with how this turned out 💞

Warning(s): fem!plus-sized!reader; I legit think there's no warning for this. not even swearing. but pls lmk???

This blurb was written as a part of the "Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K" celebration.

Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

Spencer looked down when he felt you shuffle against him. "Cold?"

The two of you were lounging on the couch with Spencer sitting on one of its end and your head leaning on his chest. Your legs were curled up on the cushion underneath a tiny blanket, the flimsy material barely doing anything as you pressed yourself even closer towards your boyfriend, trying to chase the warmth from his body heat to combat the chill running down your spine. Spencer noticed what you were trying to do and instantly tugged at the other blanket on his lap, laying the material gently around you and smiling when he heard you sigh in appreciation.

"What about you, Spence?"

"I'll be fine. I run hot."

"Mmh. Can't argue with that."

Spencer squeezed your thigh in response to your cheeky remark, your whole body shaking in laughter before you focused your attention back on the TV screen ahead.

It was a rarity for Spencer to find himself home safely at 8 o'clock on a Friday night, not to mention to have you home at the same time as him instead of at the ER tending to patients. On nights like this, Spencer made sure to always cherish the time with you in whatever way you liked, even if it meant he had to sit through nearly five hours of a Hallmark movie marathon after stuffing his stomach full with greasy Chinese takeouts.

The man was head over heels in love with you, and he would do just about anything to keep that mesmerizing smile permanently on your face.

"That's adorable," you said breathlessly after a few minutes of silence.

Spencer didn't want to admit that he had just spent the last ten minutes getting absolutely gobsmacked by your beauty, so he quickly tore his gaze away and directed it back towards the TV screen. His confusion only tripled in size when he saw that nothing particularly stood out from the scene. It was just another shot of the two main characters having yet another one of their silly little arguments as a cheesy jingle played in the background.

"What is happening?" Spencer asked at last.

You glanced at his question and scoffed. "You weren't paying attention again, were you?"

Spencer had the audacity to grin, and it was pretty lucky of him to have been blessed with such a pretty face that could melt even the hardest ice around your heart.

"Okay, handsome. Listen carefully. So, what happened is, the girl—"

"Bess?"

"Yes, Bess. Well, she and Aidan decided to meet for lunch to talk about the deed to the land, right? But that talk didn't really lead anywhere as they ended up fighting, again, and Bess walked away from the restaurant. Aidan ran after her and they fought again on the sidewalk, but then they got interrupted by the rain."

"Of course. The rain. How original."

You hid your bemused smile before continuing, "The two of them ran for cover in this little bookstore after that. Bess was shivering because she was wearing this little black thing, and Aidan noticed. So like the gentleman he is, he took off his suit jacket and gave it to Bess. They both ended up spending a couple of hours in that little bookstore waiting for the rain to stop, and Bess wore Aidan's jacket for the rest of the day. She didn't notice she still had it until she went home in the evening."

Spencer nodded along as he waited for your recount to finish, expecting to find clarity by the end of it only to be met with an even bigger confusion than before.

"I still don't get it. You thought that it was adorable that... they got caught in the rain?"

"And they call you a genius?" you teased, shrieking when Spencer lunged forward to tickle your sides. "No, silly. Not the rain. The jacket."

"The jacket?"

"Yeah. I think it's nice." You smiled, your eyes crinkling as you turned back towards the TV. "I've always loved that. When the guy gives something of his for the girl to wear. His T-shirt, his jacket, his sweater. Anything. The girl would wear his clothes and they'd usually look too big on her and it all just feels so... domestic. There's a sense of belonging in the gesture itself, sort of a non-verbal way of him claiming the girl as his. A little territorial, perhaps. But I personally find the whole thing adorable."

After he was done hearing your explanation, Spencer found himself at loss for words. "I didn't know that. That's actually a thing?"

"It's a pretty common trope in romance books and movies. One of my favorites, too."

"And you like that? Having your boyfriend lend you his clothes to wear?"

"Well, I don't know. I, uh, I actually never tried it myself." You suddenly grew bashful as you started playing with the hem of your pajamas top. "Everyone I've dated has always been smaller than me, so I never got the chance to experience any of that."

"Sweetheart—"

"Relax, Spencer. It's fine," you assured him. "I'm not sad about it. Do I feel like missing out sometimes? Yes, maybe, but it's not like it's the end of the world. I'll survive just fine. Promise."

You resumed watching the rest of the movie after that, the short conversation being shoved to the back of your mind as you relished in the final scene of the movie where the guy, finally and inevitably, managed to win over the girl with an arduous chase through the airport concluded by a romantic confession in front of gate 4E.

After movie night on Friday, the following week unraveled in a hectic frenzy for you. The ER where you worked saw a full house nearly every single night, forcing you to take not only one, not two, but three extra shifts in a single week. By the time the next Friday rolled around, you were exhausted beyond belief, collapsing face first into bed as soon as you arrived home without even waiting for Spencer to get back from his week-long case in Idaho.

The following morning, you woke up to a delicious smell coming from the kitchen. You followed the scent in your sleepy haze until you came face to face with your boyfriend standing behind the stove, unruly curls and a handsome smile as he glanced up at the sound of your footsteps. You couldn't even imagine how dishelved you looked in that moment—with dried drool around your lips and pillow imprints on your cheek—but the way Spencer assessed you from the distance, it made you feel as though you were meant to be sculpted as a flawless copy of Aphrodite herself.

"Good morning, gorgeous," your boyfriend greeted as he pushed a plate of pancakes across the counter. "Breakfast?"

The two of you spent the entirety of breakfast telling each other about your respective week while enjoying Spencer's pancakes that, surprisingly, tasted even better than they smelled. After the dishes were washed, Spencer grabbed your hand and started leading you back towards your shared bedroom.

"Come with me for a moment. I wanna show you something," he said.

You trailed after Spencer in curiosity, compliantly fulfilling his order to sit on the bed as he vanished into the ensuite. Three minutes later, Spencer reappeared in front of you, donning a grin so enormous that it nearly distracted you from the foreign pair of clothes he had changed himself into.

"What do you think?" Spencer asked enthusiastically.

"What do I think?"

"Yeah!"

"It's cute, Spencer. Is it new?" Spencer nodded eagerly, confirming your suspicion. "I see. It's kinda... too big for you, don't you think?"

The hoodie Spencer was wearing came in your favorite color, but it hung on his lanky frame almost like a poncho. Spencer still looked good in it, though. You admired his talent to still appear attractive even when he was wearing something that didn't fit him properly.

"I picked out a bigger size on purpose," Spencer revealed, taking off the hoodie before extending it towards you. "Here, try it. I went two sizes above your usual so it should feel roomy."

Your perplexed stare zeroed in on the clothing in Spencer's hand. "Wait. I don't understand. Did you buy this for me?"

"Um, no? Well, technically yes." Spencer rubbed his neck, suddenly turning sheepish as his gaze found your eyes. "Remember last week when you told me about girls borrowing their boyfriends' clothes? And how you never got to experience that? Well, I couldn't stop thinking about it, so I went ahead and ordered this hoodie for myself but in a larger size. That way, you can steal it from me from time to time. Have something of mine you can wear when you want to."

Silence descended into the room in the wake of Spencer's declaration.

His heart was a sonorous thumping inside his chest. Spencer waited for you to say something, but your voice never came. It wasn't until the first sob broke through the quietude did Spencer realize that you were actually crying.

"Sweetheart? Hey, hey, hey, what's wrong?"

The man knelt in front of you in no time, his palm clenching at the side as if he was ready to go into battle to fight whatever or whoever caused the shed tears in your eyes. You lifted your head just enough to see him, smiling shakily when you saw the taut lines above the bridge of his nose.

"I can't believe you bought this hoodie for me," you muttered once your sobs had subsided.

Spencer breathed out a sigh of relief. "That's why you cried? Because I bought you a hoodie?"

"It's not just because of a hoodie, Spence. It's the fact that you cared. You listened to my silly thoughts and you remembered." You brought your hand up to cup his cheek, feeling him melt against the touch. "This is the nicest, most considerate thing anyone has ever done for me."

"That just breaks my heart, gorgeous. You deserve so much more. I'm literally doing the bare minimum."

"No, you're not. You're doing so much. You're doing everything, Spencer."

You kissed him, then. Urgently and vehemently; trying to convey just how intensely your heart felt for him. When you pulled away, Spencer was wearing a big smile undoubtedly identical to your own.

"I love you so much, Spencer. You know that, right?"

Spencer's smile blossomed. In his heart, he sketched the way your face looked in that moment to burn your beauty into the depth of his mind.

"Not as much as I love you, sweetheart."

449 notes · View notes

am-i-the-asshole-official · 4 months

Note

AITA for not wanting to play DnD with a teenager?

So I (22F) am in college and after classes I like to play DnD with four of my friends, Ricky (21M), Tara (21F) Lola (22F) and Julie (20F)

Well recently Tara's little sister Ashley (15F) has been hanging out at Tara's apartment, where we usually have our game sessions, after school. Like for about two weeks now. Tara says its because her mother got a new job and doesnt get off work until 7pm so Ashley stays at the apartment from 4pm till about 7:30pm when her mother comes to pick her up.

4 pm is when our game sessions start most of the time (depending on if any of us have night classes that day or not) which means we now have a literal child watching us play. And because of that Tara has asked that we tone down the game sessions to be more "appropriate" and we also cant get drunk until Ashley leaves (which is stupid because Julie is under 21 and we can drink around her just fine but whatever) frankly I didnt mind the constant audience since Ashley was far more interested in watching us play than watching TV or playing on Tara's switch.

Well apparently just watching wasnt good enough for the brat because when i got to Tara's apartment for a game, Ashley was sitting at our table, excitedly filling out a character sheet while chattering nonstop with Ricky and Lola (Julie wasn't coming this time she had the stomach flu)

I naturally asked what she was doing because she normally just watched. Ashley gave me a confused look and said that she was joining our game like we had apparently talked about in our groupchat the night prior. Ricky and Lola both backed her up and showed the groupchat.

I had seen the messages but I thought Tara was joking about adding a literal child that doesnt even have a learners permit to our game that we had been continuing for three months now. I naturally went to go confront Tara.

She said that I agreed to let Ashley join in and if I didn't want to play with her I could've just not come.

Is she fucking serious?

What kind of sane person would want to play with a literal child and its edgy as fuck character (like the character was a wolf necromancer dressed in all black with two random scars across its chest. You could smell the hot topic radiating from this cringefest)

Tara refused to listen to reason and instead insisted that Ashley can play just for tonight and if i didnt like it I could leave.

I had no choice to stay and play

It was so fucking miserable.

The brat was constantly making stupid mistakes and dragging the whole party down with her. We constantly had to stop so Ricky (our DM) could explain things that should've been obvious because Ashley was too stupid to actually figure it out. My character was having to bail her's out near constantly. It was getting to the point where I just wanted to legitimately slap Ashley. I didnt because Tara would absolutely murder me but oh the temptation was strong.

And the worst part? I was the only one who seemed to be upset that our game was being completely thrown off course. Ricky, Lola and Tara took all of Ashley's many many fuck ups in stride and actually seemed to be enjoying it.

I have no idea why, that game was a train wreck

After an hour of hell Ricky called it quits for the day.

Which was weird because we usually go well into the night most of the time. Once the game was over Tara grabbed me by the arm and led me to the kitchen.

She asked me what the hell my problem was because it was apparently MY fault the game went so poorly and not the literal child's.

So I let her have it.

I told her it was a stupid idea to let her dumbass sister play with us, that Ashley shouldnt be playing with adults and its stupid to expect us to bow to the whims of a fifteen year old. I told her I never wanted to play with stupid bitch ass of a sister ever again.

I left the apartment after that.

This morning I was removed from the groupchat and all my friends have blocked me

Except for Lola, who has been going off on me in dms all day, calling me a horrible person, transphobic, a bully and a bitch. Every name in the book. None of them are talking to me and Julie, who wasn't even there keeps calling me an asshole and says i should apologize

AITA? I dont think i did anything wrong but everyone else thinks I did

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

384 notes · View notes

blessedwithabadomen · 28 days

Text

in love with the mess - day ten

summary : Aubrey is going on tour and, for once, she's decided to focus on having as much fun as possible. Oli can be a little shit but he does nothing short of adore Audrey and... well, maybe Noah a little, too. Noah likes the flirting, as long as no one gets too close, emotionally. But what will happen when the three of them take it too far?

content : smut (p in v, dirty talk, oral (f and m receiving), hints at anal play), angst, fluff

length : 10k

tags (let me know if you want to be tagged!) : @veronicaphoenix @cookiesupplier @lma1986 @jilliemiw86 @bngurngheart @lacktoesandtoddlerants @narcissisticbehavior81 @flowery-mess @shilohrosechicken @justeli6 @starvingarsyn @floatinglikeaswan @blacksoul-27 @somebodyels3 @kageyasma @spikeisdaddy @broken0mens

a/n : Hope you enjoy this one!! Comments and reblogs keep the writer writing 💕

•••

day ten

I was getting tired of unexpected knocks on my hotel room door. Especially when it was much too early and I was already rushing to get ready after something had prevented me from properly packing my suitcase last night. Now I had mere minutes until I needed to be downstairs with the rest of the crew and the band because Bring Me had an awfully early bus call to get to Sheffield. I couldn’t blame them for that - it was home, after all. Most of them were using the day off to visit friends and family, but Oli and, as far as I knew Matt too, were heading for the store for the day.

I ripped the door open as much as I could under the weight to find none other than Oli himself standing in the hallway, an amused smirk on his face.

“I don’t know how well you slept last night, but this hotel really has to work on soundproofing their walls,” he chuckled, letting himself in just past the doorway as I stood frozen. “‘Cause I was definitely wide awake hearing two people have the fuck of their lives. Like, holy shit, staying quiet definitely wasn’t part of their vocabulary at all. Did you hear them at all?”

“I…”

“Not gonna lie, it sounded pretty hot, I was almost a little tempted to, you know.”

He raised his eyebrows at me as he motioned toward his crotch.

“Oli-”

“Did you really not hear anything?”

The bathroom door opened so abruptly I almost jumped at the sound. Noah had freshened up but was still very much in yesterday’s clothes and extremely sleepy. I could basically see the gears turning in Oli’s head as he looked back and forth between us.

“That was you! Oh you dirty, dirty kids,” he laughed. Noah looked thoroughly confused, still standing in the doorway of the bathroom. Oli gave another chuckle, but something was amiss. I’d known him for years. I knew Oli’s teasing face, the way he sounded, the way his eyes crinkled in earnest. This wasn’t it. And it kept me silent, somehow.

“Well, bus call’s soon, so no time for a second round, eh?” His voice didn’t match his words. I couldn’t quite figure it out just yet, but it made me feel uncomfortable and awkward. Noah seemed to think the same as he stayed suspiciously silent, toying with the hem of his shirt.

“Yeah, no, I’ll… I’ll catch you downstairs, yeah?” I finally managed to vomit out. Oli simply nodded, raised his hand in what I assumed should be a form of goodbye and then vanished back into the hallway.

It was only when the door clicked back into its lock that Noah moved next to me. Grabbing whatever he had left in the room - he briefly paused as he saw the bottle of Hennessey, but ultimately decided not to touch it - he got ready as if his bus call was imminent.

“I keep fucking up,” he said, more to himself than anything else as he moved past me to put on his shoes.

“Noah, you’re-”

“No, I am. It’s- it’s fine, I just need to-”

My hand on his arm stopped him just before he reached the door. He looked so conflicted, so torn, that it broke my heart along with his. I wanted to tell him it was going to be okay, that we could be okay, that Oli would be okay, but even in my head it sounded like a lie. I couldn’t promise him something like that. All I could do was allow myself to be his for the taking if he ever decided to, well, take me on.

I pulled him down with a hand on his neck and put my lips on it and I hoped it would tell him everything I couldn’t say.

•••

Oli wasn’t waiting for me when I arrived downstairs. He wasn’t in the parking lot either. Or downstairs in the bus, or in the lounge. But the curtain of his bunk was pulled tightly shut and it worried me beyond belief. I wasn’t quite sure what exactly had caused him to withdraw, but my brain was providing me with a multitude of options, spinning through all of them at lighting speed as if it could make me decide on one of them, and it made me dizzy.

Especially because simply pulling away was so out of character for him. I’d expected him to make a fuss, pick a fight, get mean, argue with either me or Noah or both of us at such a volume that the rest of the hotel voluntarily evacuated, but none of that had happened. Not even a tiny remark shot our way. Not a single item thrown around the bus in frustration.

Either way, I was just so over not communicating.

Aubrey u up?

I was almost shaking waiting for his reply. It seemed silly, texting him the very thing he’d texted me that first night before the tour had really started, but I hoped he would recognise it and not consider my joking offensive when he was dealing with… something. When my phone displayed a new message, I almost threw it away in surprise, as if I’d been expecting radio silence.

Oli Is this a bootycall?

So - he didn’t hate me. And he remembered. It was a relief, really. With a slight smile playing on my face, I walked back towards his bunk and pulled the curtain back. He didn’t noticeably react, simply kept lying with his back turned to me. He did, however, shuffle forward just the tiniest bit and I took it as an invitation to climb in and shut the curtain behind me.

It was a tight fit, both of us in his bunk, especially since Oli had gotten noticeably more buff than the last time we’d done this on a tour, but with a bit of rearranging and me spooning him closely, we made it work. I placed my hand over his heart, feeling it beat underneath my fingertips, so fast it was almost concerning.

“Hey,” I whispered, quietly, as if anyone else could overhear us, as if it would matter if they did. Oli didn’t answer in words, but put his hand over mine, stroking the skin delicately. “Talk to me.”

“Don’t wanna,” he mumbled, like a stubborn little child. I couldn’t see his face, but I imagined him to be pouting as he spoke. Was this better than the explosions we usually faced when he got mad? I decided yes.

“Oli,” I replied, hoping his name in my mouth would sound vaguely scolding. “We talked about that. Communication and all that? Come on. I can’t bear it when you withdraw like this.”

He sighed so heavily it moved my body along with his.

“It’s embarrassing though.”

“And you can blush all you like, but you’re going to tell me. I’m not even looking at you. It literally won’t get better than this. And I won’t let you off the hook any time soon, I hope you know that.”

He grumbled for a little bit longer but I sat it out, knowing he’d come around sooner or later. The sooner was reached a lot more quickly than expected. I had been well prepared to spend most of the drive to Sheffield here, in silence, just holding him and waiting it out.

“It’s stupid, really, but seeing you with Noah this morning, knowing what you’d done…” He took a deep breath. I didn’t interrupt him even though the thoughts were already running through my head at high speed again. “I don’t mind that you fucked, you know. It just feels like… like he got something from you before I did and… it makes me feel like a leftover. Like the two of you don’t need me.”

I desperately tried to wrap my mind around what Oli was telling me. He was jealous that Noah got to have me first? That I’d decided - although it wasn’t much of a planned decision, but he couldn’t know that - to sleep with him before I considered Oli? That maybe I desired the other man more? Wanted him closer, in a more intimate setting, than Oli?

“And I know we’ve, like, done stuff before, all of us,” he continued. It seemed like now that he’d started, he barely managed to stop. “But I don’t just sleep with anyone and, fuck, this sounds so stupid, but I thought it might be special, sleeping with you for the first time, sleeping with both of you, and now I feel like I’m not really part of it anymore…”

He wasn’t just thinking about Noah being the first one to sleep with me. He was also thinking about me being the first one to sleep with Noah. I gave myself some time to think during the moments he stayed quiet. How would I have felt if they’d gotten together first? Leaving me as the odd one out, the one that hadn’t been present when they shared this new level of intimacy.

I probably would have felt rejected too.

“If it helps at all, neither of us planned to have sex last night,” I explained. “It was very much a spur of the moment thing after he crashed at mine because he’d been drinking. I think… I think I would have preferred it with you around as well.”

I hadn’t realised it until the words left my mouth, but it was true. Sleeping with Noah had been amazing - but if we’d shared that experience as a threesome, all sober and fully awake, it would have been phenomenal. I had no doubt about that.

“And you’re not second best. Not at all. You and Noah… I have so much love for both of you, in such different and such similar ways all at once. I could never prefer him over you, just like I could never prefer you over him. I’m sorry that it happened like this and that you had to find out like that.”

I didn’t know what else to say. How else to make him understand. I couldn’t take back what had happened. I couldn’t magically turn back time and turn Noah down, or make Oli appear in the room too. I could only try to make up for it moving forward. And I planned to.

“Dinner’s still on tonight, right? The three of us?”

Oli nodded. I wouldn’t have noticed if we’d not been so close. I pressed a kiss into his dark locks.

“We’ll make it up to you. Noah and I. Promise. Will you let us?”

It took a moment of Oli struggling for me to realise he was attempting to turn around. I almost slid off the edge, already imagining myself falling to the floor in the little walkway between bunks, but Oli quickly shifted and put an arm around me in the most complicated way to keep me safe. There was a lot more shuffling, trying to keep our limbs intact and our hair from getting caught up somewhere, until we settled on a final position, our legs intertwined, foreheads pressed against each other.

“As if I could ever resist you, Aubrey. You and Noah, both.”

•••

As it turned out, I didn’t have all that much to do when I travelled to the store with Oli and Mat. Most of the organisational matters had been taken care of by the local workers, those in charge of Drop Dead and everything around it, and I was barely much more than a glorified babysitter as I ushered Oli back and forth to where he was needed.

At least his mood had improved considerably. I hoped I had played some sort of part in it. When he talked to the people around him, waved to a couple of fans, studied the designs he’d helped with, I knew it wasn’t a facade. He was truly happy here, and I caught myself thinking that maybe he could be truly happy with me and Noah, too.

“I don’t really know how long this will take, but it might be a while, so if you want to leave, I don’t know, walk through the city, get a nap, you really don’t have to stay here,” Oli told me when I managed to catch up with him. I knew he meant it. He wasn’t one for playing games like that. “I can text you and Noah the address of the place I reserved at, and the time. How’s that sound?”

I agreed, not because I was bored but because I felt wholly unneeded and kept standing in the way. The question of what I was going to do with my time was answered much quicker than expected as I ran into Becky on the way out.

“You know, I think we get a discount on this stuff. And if not I’ll make Oli give you one,” I grinned as I watched her flip through some of the shirts.

“Thank god, because this shit is expensive,” she replied, immediately letting go of the fabric in ther hands. “What do you say we go for an equally as overpriced coffee instead?”

“I do love me a good dose of caffeine,” I admitted.

Becky held out her arm for me to take it and I complied with a giggle, leaving the store with her and wandering the streets, making small talk as we tried to find a coffee shop to our liking. When we finally located one, ordered and sat down, I felt all the exhaustion I’d been carrying with me take over. I sank deeper into the comfortable armchair, wondering if it’d be inappropriate to get in a little cat nap.

“Looks like Oli is keeping you up. Or was that Noah?”

I briefly panicked, wondering if, somehow, word had gotten around that I’d slept with Noah.

“You’re hanging out with both of them a lot. Now I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted trying to keep my one man at home happy, never mind two. And those two out of everyone! You truly picked the most exhausting ones to be friends with.”

I breathed a sigh of relief, hoping it wasn’t too visible and took a quick sip of coffee to hide my embarrassment.

“Yeah, they're… a handful. But I doubt it's much better for them, I'm sure I can be just as exhausting,” I laughed. “So you got a man at home, hm? Is he gonna visit on tour or has he already and I've simply missed him?”

“Oh no, he's going to be around in Dublin. It's where we live, actually. Got abducted to the other isle by an Irishman. In my defence though, he looks like Hozier's younger brother and he's just as tall, so really, how could I have resisted!”

“Tall men, eh,” I agreed, moving my cup to cheers with hers.

“Tall men, indeed.”

We stayed quiet for a moment, both of us lost in thoughts, but I wasn't a fan of the silence for long.

“Are you looking forward to going home then? We only have four more dates left, right?”

“So much. Unfortunately it's not for long. I'm leaving again on the 26th for the Bad Omens tour.”

“You’re heading on their tour with them?” This was news to me. I was well aware Bad Omens were still going to be in Europe for a while and I had absolutely been staring at those tour dates as they were selling out one by one, tempted to make a trip somewhere to see them headline, but with no work lined up it was impossible to plan. The fact that Becky had been hired by them hadn’t been relayed to me.

“Yeah, apparently they were looking for someone local and Bring Me suggested me since I’d already worked a few shows with them before. No rest for the wicked, eh!”

“No rest indeed,” I sighed. I wished I wouldn’t be getting any rest either. Maybe I should beg someone for a merch job on that tour. They probably had all their positions filled, but I was getting desperate at this point. Being away would also give me some time to find a new place to live. But did I have the guts to straight up beg for it, knownig I’d probably only get it because they took pity on me and not because they really needed me?

“So, you’re basically in a long-distance relationship then, with you being away so much, aren’t you?”

Becky exhaled into her cup of coffee. “We make it work, you know? It was tough in the beginning. He has a very steady, reliable, boring day job and I’m just all over the continent but we’ve accepted that about each other. We check in and I usually video call him in the evening. And, well you can get creative with what you do on video, too.”

I almost spewed out the coffee at her remark, knowing fully well by the tone in her voice what she was referring to. The wiggling eyebrows sealed the deal.

“Sorry,” she giggled. “Couldn’t help myself.”

“By all means, I’m glad you’re having a good sex life still.”

I put the cup back on the table. I wasn’t sure how long it had been empty for, but I knew I’d been holding onto it for no obvious reason.

“Did he ever mind? Knowing that being with you would mean being away from you for a long time?” I paused for a moment, suddenly feeling self-conscious about my questions. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that, I’m just sitting here interrogating you like you’re on trial.”

“Oh, don’t worry about, darling. Ask all you want. For us, it was never a question, really. What can I say? We fell hard and fast. I could have moved to Australia and he would have made it work.”

I didn’t know why I felt like crying. I tried to hide the tears that were on the edge of emerging by organising the items on the little table in front of us until they had straightened out and seemed in order. Maybe that was more suspicious than me getting emotional.

“So, it’s all about love, isn’t it,” I said, trying hard not to sniffle. “As long as you love them enough, you make it happen.”

I only looked up when Becky put her hand over mine. Her eyes were soft, but there was no pity in them and I silently thanked her for it.

“Sometimes you have to realise just how in love you are first. Or allow yourself to admit it.”

•••

By pure luck and what I could only call a miracle, I bumped into Noah in the hallway of the hotel, on the way back to my room. He stopped immediately, and then let me into his room, assuring me it was empty for now, when he realised I didn’t want to have this conversation where we could possibly be overheard.

“Aubrey, I’m sorry,” he started but I held my hand up to stop him before he got any farther.

“I know. I know you are. I don’t know what kind of stuff you need to figure out for yourself, but I’m giving you the time to do it, okay? You’re always welcome in my room and, well, in my bed and just about everywhere else and if there’s things you want to discuss, I’ll make time for you. I’m just asking you not to keep going back and forth and changing your opinion and treating me like someone you’re dating as long as you’re not. Dating me that is. Alright?”

I took a deep breath, holding my head up high. Somewhere in the edges of my brain, I could almost hear Lia cheering me on, congratulating me for speaking my mind and putting up boundaries. I knew it was the right thing to do. For myself, for once.

“Alright,” he simply said. He deserved a little more space to think over what I’d just told him. I hoped he would.

“Well, in completely contrasting news, I hope you know we’re going out for dinner with Oli tonight?”

Noah nodded.

“Good. Because we’re going to treat him right, okay? He’s been… well, he feels a little left out of whatever the three of us have going on and that’s not happening on my watch. So we’re going to be real good to him tonight, whatever that entails and wherever we end up with. Anything to let him know he’s just as important and cherished. Is that something you can do?”

“Yeah… yeah, I think I can.”

“Good.” I gave him a smile, feeling the energy leave me as I finally got everything out I had come here to say. “Put on something nice. Apparently it’s a place that needed a reservation.” I walked a little closer, putting my hand on his chest. “I think we’d all enjoy the turtleneck a lot.”

•••

Oli and Noah looked positively divine when we met up at the restaurant later that night. Noah was every bit as gorgeous as I had hoped he’d be in the turtleneck. Even Oli gave him an appreciative whistle as he saw him, which once again caused Noah to sport a lovely little blush. Oli himself was wearing a white shirt that accentuated his broad shoulders and had entirely too few buttons opened. I briefly considered ignoring our dinner reservation as just taking them back to the hotel immediately and by the way the two of them were mustering me, those thoughts seemed to be mutual.

I’d made an effort. My black dress, thin, with lace and spaghetti straps, had an asymmetrical cut, showing off much more of my right thigh than my left. It was a shame I couldn’t wear it without tights, but the January cold simply wasn’t allowing it. The heels were the only ones I could walk in confidently, with a wide block heel, velvety and sexy. Both men still towered over me.

I’d also put on my dark red lipstick, at Oli’s request. The one that would smudge if touched. It might make dinner a little more complicated, but that was a challenge I was willing to accept.

Luckily, the place didn’t turn out to be too fancy, I realised as a waiter showed us to our seats, Oli’s hand on the small of my back and his other resting on Noah’s arm. Oli hadn’t needed a reservation because it was so impossibly packed during a random Thursday in January. He had needed one because he had asked for a very special table.

The waiter led us to a little platform on which sat what I could only describe as a bird-cage-esque structure, a hexagon of lightly coloured, wooden walls, two of them completely open and leading in and out of the main restaurant area, the other four adorned with a grid of windows. It seemed like there was a spotlight on it, right in the middle of the room, but as soon as I stepped inside and took my seat, I realised it also came with a lot of privacy. It was perfect.

“Bottle of wine?” Oli asked as we flipped through the drinks menu.

I looked over at Noah, but even before he could have seen me stare, he shook his head. “None for me today. I’s rather be sober.”

I wanted to tell him thank you and I know why but either would have opened up questions about what had happened the last two nights, things Oli wasn’t in the loop about, and it didn’t feel like my place to tell. Either way, Oli accepted quickly, ordering some water and and mocktails for the table, claiming that just because we were abstaining from alcohol didn’t mean we couldn’t have some fancy looking drinks.

“I can’t believe we only have four more shows on this run,” I sighed. I hadn’t meant to mention it really, but it was starting to weigh on my mind after my talk with Becky earlier. It had made me realise just how close we were to saying goodbye, going our separate ways. Oli back to recording the album, Noah still on tour, me… well, I’d have to figure that one out, too. So far my search for both a job and a place to stay hadn’t been very successful.

“Hey,” Oli interrupted my pondering, putting his hand over mine. Noah seemed to briefly feel left out, grabbing my other hand to mirror the sentiment. “No being sad at our date. It’s not like we’ll never see each other after.”

I wasn’t quite that confident in the future, but he was right. Now was not the time or place to start overthinking.

“Date, eh?” I joked instead. Deep down, I wanted confirmation, but I was too cowardly to ask outright. Then I remembered Noah’s hesitation to the idea of us going on a date before, but he was simply sipping his newly arrived drink, either ignoring the underlying question or being at peace with it. I couldn’t quite figure it out yet.

“I figured it should be one, you know,” Oli mused in fake contemplation. “Only seems fair to take you two out for dinner before I fuck you.”

If Noah had been slightly apathetic at the conversation before, he now put himself in the middle of it as he did a literal spit take, droplets of his mocktail landing on the wooden table. I was quick to mop it up with my napkin, trying to hold the laughter at bay. Oli didn’t care. He gave a bark that was loud enough to be heard by just about everyone in the restaurant. There were some spots on Noah’s turtleneck too and even though they would probably dry to be invisible on the dark shirt, I reached out to pat at it too.

He stood up a little abruptly, feeling the wet fabric with his fingers. “I’m just gonna head to the bathroom. Order me the chickenburger, yeah?”

Oli and I were still giggling by the time he disappeared from view.

“Should I go after him?” he questioned with a smirk. “Or is that gonna make things worse?”

“The latter probably,” I giggled. “He might think you’re trying to fuck him in the bathroom stalls.” Oli made a face that suggested he was thinking about it. I smacked my hand against his shoulder. “I’ll go check on him. Order me whatever, you know what I like.”

By the time I’d reached the toilets, Noah was already exiting the room again. I approached him slowly, a hand coming to rest on his chest when I was close enough.

“Oli a bit much for you?”

“When is he not,” he sighed but immediately followed it up with a smile. “It just came a little unexpectedly.”

His hand reached for mine, again, playing with my fingers and stroking the back of it as I kept it on his chest, heavy breathing underneath.

“You know he doesn’t expect anything of you, right? You don’t have to go home with him, or us. And if you do, no one’s making you do anything. He knows you’ve never, you know… been with a man like that.”

“I want to,” Noah stated, voice much more steadfast that I would have expected. “I really do. I’m just… nervous I won’t be any good.”

“Oli’s so into you, I don’t think he’d care even if you did everything wrong your possibly could,” I giggled. Relief flooded my veins when he joined in. “Besides, he’s no better off. He talks a lot of shit and he’s really good at pretending, but unless he has a whole other life he hasn’t shared with me, his experience with men doesn’t go further than some drunken make-out sessions either.”

Noah nodded, perhaps slightly unconvinced, but a lot less jittery than before. I pressed a kiss to his lips, delighted by the fact that I didn’t have to get on my usual tiptoes with the heels I was wearing. He kept me there, for a moment, with his hand at the nape of my neck, even when the kiss had ended. Simply breathing each other in. I allowed him to decide when to break the contact. I figured he needed it.

“Thank you”, he whispered.

“What for?”

“Just being you.”

•••

The rest of our outing continued much less dramatically, but filled with laughter and little flirts. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so good, just by being around these two. Oli had ordered for all of us as the waiter had indeed come by while Noah and I were gone. There was a good chance I was making heart eyes at him when a plate of curry appeared in front of me. He’d known it was my favourite. He seemed to know it all, I realised.

We ended up squeezed in the backseat of a cab, each of us with a to-go back with desserts on our laps. Oli insisted on taking them, even though neither of us were thinking very much about eating right about now. The tension in the backseat was thick - not necessarily bad, considering growing arousal and excitement were pumping through my veins as I tried to imagine what was to come.

The car took a sharp turn, prompting a low gasp from Noah when my body pressed closer to his. On his exhale, a soft hum was pulled from his throat. A reminder that I wasn’t the only one who was about to benefit from this.

The scenery outside changed, restaurants and cafés and shops giving way to a residential area, little blocks of flat, small houses with tiny gardens in front. Not the industrial complexes, the hotels, the high-rise buildings I was expecting.

“This isn’t the way to the hotel.”

As I turned to Oli, I was caught off guard by the smirk on his face. That fucker. He had ordered the cab, he had planned this. Planned - what, though? He let out a chuckle at my confusion, clearly pleased with my reaction.

“Because we’re not going there.” Oli leaned in, lips brushing my ear, yet speaking loudly enough that Noah wouldn’t be left out of the conversation. “Did you really think I’d let you bed me in a random hotel room and not my place when we’re in Sheffield?”

Noah tensed next to me. As I turned to look at him, Oli’s lips once again brushing my skin, I realised he was clutching the takeaway container a little more desperately. He’d definitely heard. And by the way he was trying to press the box down against his crotch, it had gotten him just as hot as it had gotten me.

The driver announcing our arrival saved either of us from reacting to the fact that Oli had just all but told the driver we were going to hook up in some capacity or other. All of us scrambled to get out into the cold night, no thoughts left but to get inside as quickly as possible. All I wanted was to get those two undressed, get my hands on them, my lips, I didn’t care if it was going to be a bedroom or not. I was beyond superficial details like that.

Noah wrapped an arm around me as I shivered in my coat, both of us careful not to drop the desserts. The building towered over us, several stories high and quite obviously new. Much more expensive than I could ever afford. I hoped it would have more soul once we were inside. Oli unlocked the door, the little Powerpuff Girls charm dangling from his key ring, and led us to the lift. It went all the way to the top floor where he let us into his apartment.

It was… perfectly Oli. The place had a homely feel to it, not small enough to feel cramped, not big enough to get lost in the feeling of its vastness. I wanted to stay forever, go through his things, study the way he decorated, how he sorted his stuff, what he had kept over the years and what had gotten moved into a faraway closet that never got opened. All the things that made him tick.

The large bookcase was filled with novels that called out for me to leaf through, study their contents, let my fingers run along their spines, ask him which ones he had read yet, see how his collection compared to my much smaller one. Little trinkets and souvenirs from all over the world were placed in between. So many stories to tell. So many anecdotes I hadn’t gotten to hear yet.

My eyes fell on the floor-length windows. They provided a stunning view all over the city, lights twinkling in the dark. I could stay here and watch forever. If I could afford it, I’d surely get a place like this too. As I stepped closer, trying to avoid the glare from inside lights, the container in my hands almost bumped into the window pane. Right. The desserts.

“Oli, where do-”

While I had been exploring Oli’s living room, Noah had apparently started exploring Oli’s body. The takeaway boxes safely set on the counter of the open kitchen, the two of them were tightly intertwined. Oli was holding Noah close, his arms wrapped around the other’s waist as Noah perfectly molded himself to Oli’s chest. His own hands were impatiently touching his back, his arse, his shoulders, as if they couldn’t get enough of what they were feeling. It was a familiar sentiment.

I approached the pair, dropping the takeaway next to theirs, allowing my fingers to trail over both of their bodies. Noah pulled back when he realised, lips already red from the intense kiss.

“Bedroom?” I simply asked. Noah nodded enthusiastically as Oli untangled himself with a smirk. He led us through a short hallway, past his bathroom which seemed even more luxurious than the hotel ones I’d been fawning over, and into his bedroom, the second to last door.

It was much less decorated than the living area, but still drew me in. The dark carpet, heavy curtains that hid the window, the plush bed - the bed was large enough that, if I hadn’t known better, I would have assumed Oli had ordered it specifically for the three of us. We’d fit in much better than at the hotel which was more than an advantage for what we were planning to do that night.

Noah seemed to have the same thought as he pushed Oli onto the mattress, immediately dropping to his knees in front of him and starting to work on removing Oli’s trousers. Not wanting to be left out, I moved onto the bed as well, slowly unbuttoning Oli’s dress shirt, one by one, my fingers tracing over every inch of hot skin that revealed itself. Oli was already growing restless, one of his hands covering mine to speed up my movements, but I remained relentless.

I didn’t care to remove the shirt completely as I pushed the fabric away, revealing a chest full of tattoos I would never get sick of staring at. Oli’s breathing quickened as I let my fingertips run over the lines, his nipples, up his neck.

“Aubrey, I swear to god, if you don’t kiss me soon-”

I leaned down, letting my lips touch the shell of his ear, just as he had done in the cab.

“Yeah? Then what?”

I didn’t torture him by waiting for an answer, instead putting my lips on his with no further warning, immediately catching him in a passionate kiss. He sighed, then gasped into it, leaving me to wonder what Noah was currently up to, but when Oli tried to get me to open my mouth, deepen our connection further, I pulled back. His lips were tinted red now, a slight stain of my lipstick even on the skin around his mouth.

I wasn’t quite sure why yet, but it was a sight that utterly captivated me and made me adore him more. I wanted to kiss him stupid, leave my mark all over, see my lips all over his body, every day. I pressed another kiss on his cheek, then in the middle of the rose on his neck, where the red was losing itself in between the thicker, black lines, a colouring book I wanted to try all my shades on.

Looking behind me, I watched as Noah pulled Oli’s underwear down his legs, discarding them without much care, much too preoccupied with the way Oli’s dick bounced upward as it was freed from the fabric, already considerably hard and mouth-wateringly delicious. Feeling my stare on him, he managed to tear his gaze away, only to grin at me in the most devilish way, motioning for me to join him on the floor. I did without hesitation.

He pulled me in for a quick kiss, allowing me to leave more of my lipstick on him too, even though the marks were already becoming more faint in their intensity. I could only imagine the way my own face looked, colour shifting around my mouth, no precision left in the outline.

“Help me treat Oli right?” Noah whispered against my lips. “I bet he’ll love two mouths on his dick even more than one.”

He did. He couldn’t be blamed - I wasn’t sure how I’d cope if I had two pairs of lips, two tongues, playing with my pussy at the same time. As soon as Noah and I both started leaving teasing little kisses on Oli’s length, he dissolved into a puddle of moans. He was still propped up on his elbows, watching the two of us on our knees, so it was impossible to tell if it was just the feeling of it or the visual as well.

It wasn’t the most technically perfect blowjob in history as Noah and I kept clashing, getting more and more lost in our own lust of getting our mouths on Oli, tasting him, swallowing him, then licking him while the other person swallowed him. Oli’s hands were all over the place, completely uncoordinated as they grasped at the backs of our heads, our hair, the bedsheets, anything they could find. One of my hands had travelled to Noah’s crotch.

I was much too distracted to do much but enjoy the way he was growing in his trousers. Or how my knees were uncomfortably rubbing against the hard floor. My brain was clouded with lust and the need to get Oli to come. Tonight was going to be all about him, in away he’d let it, and just the thought of spending a few more hours with my hands on Oli, getting him high again and again, hopefully finally feeling his dick inside me, had me delirious.

“Fuck, I’m not gonna last,” Oli mumbled. When his hand found the back of my head again, gripping my hair and pulling me off him, it was with intention. His eyes were almost pleading when I looked up. “Can I-?”

I nodded before he posed the complete question. He could. In fact, I was gagging for it. As much as I’d enjoyed blowjobs before in my life, never had I been craving for their smells, their taste, their cum as much as I did with these two.

Noah pulled away, letting his fingers play with the part I wouldn’t manage to get in my mouth, fondling his balls, as I slowly took Oli as deep as I could without gagging, still missing a good portion, but all aspirations to swallow him whole would have to wait another day.

Oli wasn’t lying when he said he was close. His hips were starting to shift off the bed, fighting a losing battle as he tried to keep himself from fucking my mouth, his noises an amalgamation I wanted to record and put in a song. When he came, he did so with a punched-out sound, shallow thrusts that slowly stopped as I swallowed as much as I could. When I let him drop from my mouth, I could feel some of it dripping from my lips still. Noah caught me in a kiss, greedily licking at them until there was nothing left.

“Jesus Christ, you two are nasty,” Oli groaned, but all of us knew it was the opposite of a complaint. He sat up a little more, face flushed, looking utterly satisfied. “Now why the fuck are you still dressed?”

I stood up eagerly. The whole scene between the three of us had gotten me uncomfortably wet, my panties noticeably sticky. I didn’t care what exactly would follow, as long as it included an orgasm of my own sooner or later. I’d barely grasped the seam of my dress when Noah’s hands appeared on my legs. Their warmth seeped through my tights, mixing with the hotness of my own skin.

“Let me,” he whispered, still on his knees, hands travelling upward, slowly and teasingly, until they reached the hem of my tights. He rolled down the fabric, over my thighs, where he paused to press a kiss to the snake tattoo, over my knees, my shins. He only stopped to take off my boots, then resumed his task, until my feet and legs were bare.

For a moment, as I looked down, Noah on his knees before me, those big brown eyes staring up at me, adoration radiating from his whole being, his hands under my dress, it felt like a worship I wasn’t deserving of.

Then, he got up to pull the dress over my head before I could ruminate on it or start to cry. Noah never let me miss his touch for too long, toying with the clasp of my bra as he peppered kisses all over the side of my neck, finally unhooking and removing it completely, only for his lips to attach themselves to my nipples. I couldn’t seem to do much but take it all in, sighing at each and every touch, purely giving into pleasure.

His fingers were tracing over the fabric, so lightly I could barely feel it at all, but it was enough to cause my knees to buckle and my hands to grasp onto his body for fear of falling. I was so hopelessly turned on, every tiny thing had me losing my mind.

“She’s so fucking wet, she’s basically dripping on my fingers,” Noah chuckled. “Where do you want her?”

“Right here, on my face.”

I stiffened immediately, eyes snapping open and staring at Oli, who had gotten comfortable on the bed, in all his naked glory, motioning for me to join him. I felt equal parts insecure and excited - I’d never sat on anyone’s face. Not only had no one ever offered, I was also terrified of being too much. My thighs suffocating the other person. Looking awful from their angle. Not being able to come because I was so tense from holding myself up so desperately.

But Oli… Oli wasn’t just looking at me with lust. He wasn’t doing this for any reason but because he craved it. Because he knew he could make it good for me. And, even if my heart was beating out of my chest with nerves, I trusted him.

“I thought tonight was going to be all about you?” I teased, still stalling. Noah was busy pulling my underwear down my legs, tapping on each ankle in turn so I would lift my feet, aiding him in removing the item.

“Who said this is anything but a treat for me?”

Somehow, that sealed the deal. On slightly shaky legs, I crossed the short distance, climbed on the bed and then hesitated as I kneeled next to Oli’s body.

“How-”

I didn’t need to finish the question. Oli, once again, knew exactly what I was thinking.

“Face that way,” he ordered, motioning toward the room, toward the other man. “I’m sure Noah can think of something to make it even better for you.”

With a nod, I awkwardly climbed over Oli’s body, trying to position myself over his face, much too preoccupied with what I was doing and how it would look and whether I might squish Oli to watch the other man. I found myself shuffling, again and again, the muscles in my thighs straining as I held myself up. I didn’t know where to put my hands, or whether to lean in any particular way. Even Noah removing his tight turtleneck and shoving down his trousers couldn’t sufficiently distract me.

“Aubrey, what the fuck are you doing,” Oli mumbled from underneath me, making me halt in my movements.

“I just-”

“It’s called sitting on someone’s face, not hovering.”

I was about to protest, but then his hands heavily grasped onto my thighs, pulling me down so decidedly that I had no option to fight against it, and then, the words still on my tongue, he licked through my wetness and I was so over convincing him of anything that didn’t include his mouth on me.

A moan was ripped from my throat as I dropped my hands forward onto Oli’s chest. Fuck. I’d severely underestimated just how turned on I was. His tongue was flicking my clit ever so slightly, every now and then, before going back to explore the rest of my pussy, and I was already throbbing.

Noah crawled onto the bed next to us, fully naked now, his hard cock standing proudly, and somehow, the pure sight of it heightened my arousal. I ground my hips downward, unable to get enough of Oli, but his hands, clasped tightly on my thighs, kept me exactly where he wanted me. It was as exhilarating as it was frustrating.

I was desperate to come now. I was desperate to feel something inside of me, too, in addition to Oli’s tongue on my clit, but I didn’t want to beg. Not yet. And this night was about Oli - if he’d wanted his fingers in me, they would already be there. All I could do was let myself fall into the sensations, trust that his teasing would result in an orgasm, and study Noah, who was now climbing onto Oli’s frame as well.

I watched as he took his own cock in his hand, admiring the way his fingers looked wrapped around it, then he ground his hips against Oli’s. Oli’s dick gave a twitch in response, ready to grow hard once again, and the moan vibrated through me so deliciously that I felt like screaming. I kept eye contact with Noah through it, as difficult as it was becoming. His smile told me he knew exactly what he was doing - both to Oli and to me.

With a sly grin, Noah repeated his action. His whole body shuddered at the contact, obviously desperate for release, but his focus was solely on Oli and me. Oli moaned again, loud enough that I could both hear and feel it, and it was good, it was so much more than good, and I needed it badly, so, so badly. Noah knew. He grasped onto both of their dicks now, wrapping his long fingers about him and Oli, getting the other more and more hard, jacking both of them off.

Oli was growing restless again, his hips thrusting upward to meet Noah’s movements, his mouth now constantly moaning against me, his vibrations ever increasing. He closed his lips around my clit now, so delicately and yet strongly enough and I came, shouting and screaming and clawing at his chest as my legs trembled and then gave in, almost dropping fully on Oli’s body.

Noah was quicker, though, catching me easily, strong hands holding me up until I managed to drop onto the mattress as all of my muscles refused to work. Then he bent down toward Oli and I turned my head just quickly enough to see the wetness I had left on Oli’s face and how Noah proceeded to kiss all of it away.

Oli lost himself in it for a moment, but he wouldn’t let Noah have the upper hand for long. With a quick move, he turned the two of them around, trapping Noah against the mattress. Noah, so tall and broad, suddenly looked utterly smitten and small underneath him.

“How have we gone so long without my mouth on your dick,” Oli mused as he kissed his way down Noah’s chest. “You already got to suck me off twice.” He was now palming Noah’s dick, his mouth stilling somewhere along his hips. “Now it’s time for me to get mine. You gonna be a good boy, Noah? Keep your hips still so I can blow you? You better be or this is gonna be over before you know it.”

Noah nodded, eagerly, falling into this submissive role with ease, which I couldn’t help but take note of. It was fascinating watching him, who was always so self-assured and in control on stage, let go of it all and simply put himself into Oli’s hands, knowing and trusting he would get exactly what he needed, if not always what he wanted.

Oli’s mouth hovered over Noah’s dick now, his breath already hitting the tip, but before he gave into Noah’s wishes, he turned his head toward me. I’d since sat up, craving nothing more than a front-row seat to the spectacle as my body slowly came back to life.

“And you be a good girl too and prepare yourself for me, yeah? I’m going to fuck you when he’s finished and I’m not going to put any fingers in you first.”

My face was heating up with such intensity, I could only imagine how red it was. But I, too, nodded, shifting my body slightly and parting my legs, ready to do as he asked. What I was seeing in front of me would drench me once again in no time anyway.

Oli engulfed Noah’s tip without any further hesitation now. Noah’s hands flew to the back of Oli’s head, halting in their movements immediately but then relaxing into his hair as he realised Oli wasn’t going to scold him for it. I let my fingers wander between my thighs, another wave of wetness hitting me as I watched the two men. Oli had clearly done his research, expertly bobbing his head, taking Noah a little deeper, but keeping to the rules he had put to Noah just days before to save his voice for the rest of the tour and moving his hand to pleasure all of him.

When I slipped a finger inside of me, I found no resistance, just slick walls begging for more, begging to be filled properly, so I let another finger join. The noises of me pumping my fingers in and out were impossible to ignore, but they still paled in comparison to Noah’s low groans and the way Oli was starting to drool around Noah’s cock.

The third finger was a stretch, but Oli was big enough that I knew I needed it to take him comfortably. I didn’t mind it. I enjoyed it just that bit more if it was a little too much, a little too intense, a little too fast. I would probably love taking Oli without any preparation at all. I pushed the thought away for another day.

Noah was close now. I could tell from the noises that escaped his mouth, the way his fingers were all but tearing at Oli’s hair. He had trouble keeping his hips down, but if there was one thing to know about Oli is that his threats usually weren’t empty. Oli sped up further, both his mouth and his hand. I quickly removed my fingers from my pussy, just in time, as Noah came, moaning so beautifully, unable to stop thrusting into Oli’s mouth once, twice. I would have come on the spot too if I’d still been touching myself.

Oli pulled himself off, licking up everything that had escaped him from Noah’s cock, who whined pitifully. The way he wiped his mouth on his hand almost seemed obscene. Even after all that had transpired already. Noah was busy catching his breath, eyes closed, looking utterly satisfied. Oli, however, was far from done.

Crawling over to the bedside table, he opened the uppermost drawer. Filled with condoms, lube and wipes, as far as I could see, it obviously served as his closest assembly of anything he could need for spontaneous sex. Though I didn’t doubt he’d have a much bigger collection of things somewhere else. He blindly grabbed one of the condoms, tearing it open and rolling it onto his thick, hard erection. My mouth was watering already. In an instant, he was on me, pulling me into a bruising kiss.

“How did he fuck you, Aubrey?” His lips was wandering from my neck down to my chest, pushing me backwards until I was lying flat, then letting his teeth graze over my nipples. I cried out at the feeling, sensitive to a fault and yet not getting anywhere near enough. “Did you do it missionary, like an old couple? Did he make you ride him, watch your pretty tits bounce? No… He did you from behind, didn’t he?”

His hands harshly grabbed onto my hips and before I knew it, Oli had turned me on my front, pulling me up to my knees in front of him. I propped myself up on my elbows, ready to let him do whatever he wanted to me as long as it involved his dick in me. His fingertips were digging into my flesh now, hard enough that I knew it would leave bruises. I couldn’t wait to see them.

“Let’s see who can do it better, doll.”

I didn’t have any more time to prepare as he pushed in roughly, not stopping until he was entirely buried in me and I was crying out at the delicious stretch. He felt amazing in me, even without moving, but when he finally did, it brought me to new heights without any trouble at all. He didn’t show any mercy, thrusting so hard that the bed was moving along with us, the sound of skin slapping echoing the room. I gave myself over to him completely, allowing him to treat me however he liked, utterly brainless, unable to care about anything but the fire in my lower belly burning hotter and hotter.

I barely realised Noah was moving, much too distracted by the way Oli was fucking me to take note of anything else, until he appeared in my field of vision, fumbling with the drawer Oli had left open. Curious, I tried my best to lift my head to see what his plan was, but Oli gave me another hard thrust that caused my arms to falter completely, my chest hitting the mattress. I didn’t try to hoist myself up again.

I heard a click, some shuffling behind me, then-

“Fuck!” Oli exclaimed, pushing into me again with a shudder. “Oh, fuck.”

I didn’t know what had just changed, but suddenly, Oli was a mess, irregular in how he fucked me. I pushed back into him, missing the rhythm he had established, but he was still slightly distracted.

“Fuck, Noah, that’s-”

I allowed myself to turn my head, struggling with the position, but managing just enough to see Noah standing behind Oli. There was no way to see exactly what was happening, but with the way Oli was now arching both toward me and toward Noah, his body seemingly unable to decide which way to go and-

“Did Noah just put a finger in your arse?”

“Two, love. Two;” Oli moaned, losing control at the treatment. Then, as if remembering his main goal, he crowded against my back, positioning me just the way he liked and fucked me hard, again, bringing me to the brink of my orgasm in a matter of moments.

I was loving the sounds in the room, the filthy atmosphere, the way Oli and I were chasing our heights, the way Noah made himself part of it, how Oli faltered under it. It was only a matter of moments, my own hand reaching between my legs, and then I was clenching around Oli, crying out at the force that hit me, riding it until I felt utterly spent, letting Oli, who was now nothing but a sweaty mess against my back, fuck me harshly until he came too, shooting into the condom with high-pitched moans.

Oli just about managed to pull out before collapsing on my back, pressing me into the mattress, until I started struggling underneath him, his ever heavier growing figure leaving me gasping for a breath I wasn’t able to catch yet anyway. Noah was the one who ended up providing the most aftercare, stashing the lube he’d used on Oli, passing around wipes and water he got from somewhere I couldn’t quite follow, but he was also the only one out of us whose brain still seemed to work at least a little.

I ended up making grabby hands at him like a little child as the sweat on my body slowly turned cold, leaving an entirely different type of goosebumps to wreak havoc on my skin. Noah saw, pulling the plush blanket up with him as he got into bed next to me, making sure to tuck both me and Oli in before hugging close to me.

Oli was still on his back, staring at the ceiling, apparently questioning… his life, maybe? He certainly looked like it. I figured it might have had something to do with the surprise action he got from behind this time. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was a first for him.

Oli, who always seemed so experience, never showed any hesitation or shyness about anything we did, surely had his boundaries too. And letting someone finger his arse surely wasn’t something he casually shared with a lot of people. What would that mean for the two of them? Noah had taken a brave step today. All I could hope was that it would open a door to more between the two of them. I knew they wanted it; they simply needed to admit it too.

Noah was still nestled into my side when Oli finally decided it was time to cuddle for him as well. There was no room for talking, not tonight. All of the unspoken things were going to be left to fester in our brains for a little while more, threatening to become more clear as the post-orgasmic haze lifted bit by bit, but I was hoping we’d be drifting off to sleep before it engulfed us. Talking was for tomorrow. No travelling, very few things on the agenda, a hometown show at night. It could wait.

Oli’s mouth was on my neck, nuzzling his nose into my hair. But this time, his warm breath was comforting instead of arousing. Until he left a much-too-hard bite on my earlobe, obnoxious as usual, and I blindly swatted at his head.

I was just about to drift off, fully comfortable sandwiched between the two men, when Oli spoke up.

“So, who fucked you better, doll, me or Noah?”

I wanted to be appalled, offended or at least pretend I was, but all that happened was that an insane giggle left my mouth, shaking my whole body until it had spread to the sides and taken Oli and Noah as well. Noah buried his head into the other side of my neck as I awkwardly slung my arm around him. Turning my face toward Oli, I grabbed onto his chin just enough to move his mouth to mine, pressing a short but heavy kiss against it.

“Guess you’ll both have to fuck me during the same evening for optimal comparisons.”

#Noah Sebastian fic #Noah Sebastian #Oli Sykes fic #Oli Sykes #Noah Sebastian x reader #Oli Sykes x reader #in love with the mess

105 notes · View notes

princessbrunette · 5 months

Note

modern line cook anakin flirting relentlessly w his fave waitress…& she pretends to hate it but one night they’re the last 2 in the restaurant & uhhhh you get it

sorry i ltrlly forgot to add smut my bad

anakin always picked on the shy ones.

it wasn’t fair! you could totally see why the other waitresses fall at his feet, with that charming smile, those tattoos peeking out from his rolled up sleeves, his dark blonde waves stuffed into a beaten up black backwards cap instead of a chefs hat or whatever it was meant to be. even the dirtied apron he wore over his shirt accentuating that stupid slutty waist. you hated when he caught you looking.

“wearing the hell out of that apron, pretty girl.” he flips a spatula in his hand catching it on the handle-end as you shuffle in towards him, hot and bothered. it wasn’t a particularly busy day at all, but you were super understaffed and working the night shift — merely irritated by the fact you’d rather be at home wearing pyjamas and watching gossip girl.

“can i get an ETA on that lasagna? i asked for it like… 20 minutes ago, i think.” you avoid his gaze, and he’s just smirking, standing there looking amused by how nervous he makes you.

“i actually have it right here for you.” he smiles, softening his gaze a little subconsciously as if guilty he was making you feel uncomfortable, relenting on his teasing for a moment. you smile gratefully. anakin always prioritised your orders, ever since he took a little too long and some guy yelled at you making you cry (which resulted in him storming across the restaurant and explaining in the rudest way possible that food takes time to cook and if he wants some undercooked garbage he can go somewhere else, etc. he then cooked you some chicken tenders in your break and sat you down and told you to eat up and not listen to the asshole.)

he holds the plate out and when you reach for it he pulls it away with a grin. you reach again, and he pulls it away, biting back a chuckle. you huff, looking at your shoes, waiting for him to just play ball. he laughs because he thinks you’re adorable, gently clapping a hand on your shoulder and placing the plate into your hand. “its really hot, yeah? be very careful.”

“you say that everytime n’i’m fine.” you frown.

“a’ight, sorry for giving a shit!” he holds his hands up, voice high in lighthearted defence as he turns back to his work station. he turns his head to watch you swing out the doors back into the restaurant.

you hated closing more than anything, tired and irritable and pouty. you finish tidying up the restaurant, locking up so you can leave through the back where your car was. re entering the kitchen, you cringe — seeing anakin still there, wiping down his work space. he turns his head, face all but lighting up when he sees you.

“you headed out?” he converses and you slow your pace, keys jangling from where they hang from your fingers.

“well, m’meant to be closing. can’t lock up if you’re still here so…” you sway, hoping he’ll get the message.

“ah,” he winces, not even pretending like he gives a shit. “see, i was about to make some food. haven’t eaten yet. you had dinner?” he glances back over. you lean on your hip, huffing out a sigh, doesn’t look like you’ll be going anywhere for a while.

“well… no… what are you making…?”

“what’d i tell you, huh? can ask me for any food you want at any time on your shift. even the shit off the breakfast menu. go sit down, i’m making you pasta.” it’s not really up for debate, anakin just waving you off to the staff room. you take your coat off, and your apron, flopping down in a seat and scroll on your phone until he arrives with the food.

“are we allowed to do this?” you fiddle with your lanyard on the table, looking up at him so sweet and innocent he wanted to say forget the pasta all together.

“you see anyone that’s gonna stop us?” he sits down, the two of you digging in.

#anon #linecook!anakin #modern!anakin #anakin skywalker au

186 notes · View notes

olsenmyolsen · 7 months

Text

Ups and Downs Pt. II

master list

dark master list

Slight MCU AU (Female Reader X Natasha Romanoff)

Be sure to read part one!

Summary: Your neighbor across the hall isn't anything like you thought she'd be.

Word Count: 4.7K

TW: Men, Guns, Violence, Bad Flirting, Fighting, Shooting, Blood, Feelings, Needles

Of course, the day you met the prettiest girl possibly in the whole entire world. You were also in a shootout with a spy.

Okay, yes, the spy and the girl are one in the same, but you get my point.

"How long ago was the guy here?"

"I-uh.." Since Nat's hands and sweet voice were all over and around your body, you truly lost any concept of time.

Nat ignored your non-answer as she looks out the window where her sniper is positioned before turning to you with a worried look.

"Y/N GET DOWN!"

You barely had time to move your body before the windows next to Nat exploded, sending you, her, and pieces of glass flying everywhere. Her body lands on its back in front of yours. New forming cuts already on her face. "Nat?!" You asked, sounding muffled due to the ringing in your ears.

Shit, a lot of you will hurt tomorrow if you get through this.

"Ow.." Nat blinks, her eyes opening as she wipes the blood from her forehead. Before she looks you over, making sure you're not harmed. "I gotta say that looks a lot cooler in the movies." You state.

"Yeah, I know." As if Natasha watches anything but classic James Bond. "Okay, Y/N, listen to me." She gets up on her knees in front of you but keeps you down low to the floor. Her hand on your back provides you with reassurance. Plus, it feels nice.

Should I tell her that my throat needs to be reassured?

"They blew out the windows because they saw me. If I know them.. and I do. They're about to send in smoke bombs. Try and flush us out. Whatever you do, regulate your breathing. Okay. In fact..." Nat keeps the two of you low but begins to move you both back to the kitchen. "Here." She grabs her bag off the counter and throws it down. Nat reaches into a side pocket and pulls out a hard mask.

"Come here." Nat motions you to come closer, and like a good girl, you do. "You're going to wear this." Nat quickly wraps the mask around your face. "As you can tell, your vision will be slightly askew, but your breathing will be fine as long as you..." Nat trails as she raises her eyebrow.

Fuck she's so fucking calm right now, and it looks so fucking hot on her- oh, she's staring at me. Oh, uhhh-

"Keep my breathing regulated?" You answer, which earns a proud smile from Nat. "Yep. Good job." I am a good girl. You think with a smile.

"Wait!" You grab onto Nat's arm. She stops rummaging through the bag to look at you. "What about you? Do you have a mask?" Nat shakes her head at you. "I only have one. But don't worry." She smiles. "I've dealt with far worse."

Nat pulls out a pistol you hadn't seen before. She looks up and onto the dining room table. You follow her eyesight. The small silver discs. "I can grab them."

"No, wait!"

You go to reach forward but get yanked back by Nat. A sniper shot rings out, the bullet going through the wood right where your hand would've been. "You okay?" She asks with a soft gaze, looking into your mask. You nod, even though you're growing more scared by the minute. "Shit, they have more than I thought." Nat rubs her hand up and down your back while she thinks. You believe this action to be absent-minded. But Natasha knows you are scared. The last thing she needs is for you to be scared and get hurt or, worse, killed.

So she's thinking of you first.

"Why haven't they fired the gas yet?" You ask. Nat looks at you before looking at the window. "They're playing a game. Shit.." Nat bites her lip and thinks.

You see her biting her lip, and you start thinking, too.

But you both aren't thinking remotely the same things.

"They're trying to draw you out. They know you're here with me." Nat looks at you. "Give me your hand." You hold it out for her as she takes your wrist and gently places the pistol she had behind her back in your hand.

"This is a Beretta 92. It's a very accurate close-range weapon. Okay? Keep it low. Away from yourself and me."

"What, Nat, I can't-"

"It holds 15 rounds. When the magazine empties, this thing will slide lock back like this." She shows you. Keeping her eyes on you instead of the gun. You look at her as she repeats the action.

"Natalie, I don't think I can do this."

"Natasha." She replies.

"What?" You tilt your head, confused. "Natalie is a cover. Natasha is my real name."

Unbeknownst to you is that Natasha still wasn't even her legal name.

You don't miss a beat before replying with: "You look prettier as a Natasha anyways."

"Really flirting? Now?" You shrug. "I've been flirting all along. It's about time you caught on." Even though you most certainly HAVE NOT been flirting this whole time. "So, is that what you call it?"

Natasha wins this battle.

"Look at the gun, Y/N." She coos you. You move your eyes to the gun as Nat holds your hand with hers. Showing you the first few steps again.

"Okay, now to reload-"

Nat gets interrupted as three canisters shoot through the broken windows. The second they land, they start leaking smoke. "Don't be scared." You go to argue that you're not, but with a smile, Nat raises her eyebrows, earning a scoff from you. Sassy even in a life-or-death situation.

"Okay, to reload. Push this down." She begins to talk faster as you both can sense that instruction time will be over soon. So she pushes your hand. "The empty mag will fall out, and then you shove the other one in. Like replacing batteries in a flashlight. Okay?" She asks as the smoke creeps into the kitchen. You nod, feeling the weight of the gun in your hand when Nat removes hers.

"Nat, I don't think I can do this. Shooting people." You clarify. Nat turns and looks into your eyes as the sound of men marching up your apartment building becomes louder and louder. "Okay, Y/N, listen to me." She grabs the sides of your mask so you can look into her emerald eyes.

Okay, how is she hotter now that she's covered in bruises and blood? Will I look hotter if I'm covered in bruises and blood?

Should I ask?

"Y/N, listen to me! These men are coming in here to kill you and me. I will do everything in my power to protect you, but in the event that I'm not able to, I'm trusting you to be able to defend yourself. Okay? Don't use it unless you have to." You nod with a dumb grin on your face that, thankfully, Natasha could not see, or else she would think you really were hopeless. "Most importantly, don't move unless I tell you to. Please don't do anything besides shoot this gun unless I tell you to. I say duck, what do you do?"

"Duck... Goose." You joke, but before Natasha could scold you, the front door to the apartment flies off its hinges. However, thankfully, the smoke has now possessed the room, covering for you and Natasha...

...Natasha?

You look to your right to see no one next to you.

Great, even in a shootout, you can't keep a girl.

You sigh and stay still as heavy footsteps are heard entering the apartment. You do your best to count, and you assume five men are now here to kill you. You stay still on the floor in the corner of the kitchen when you hear one of the men speak up. "Come on out with your friend, little widow! We promise not to hurt her."

You rolled your eyes through the mask, and that's when you heard two shots being fired off before a loud thud hit the floor across the apartment.

"How did she do that?!" You hear a heavily accented man yell before a multitude of bullets are fired from an automatic weapon.

However, instead of Natasha getting hit, she jumps up off the coffee table in the middle of the living room and knees one of the men in the nose. Making him stagger back in pain, leaving him little time to think as she attaches a widow bite disc to the man, shocking him to the floor but not before grabbing his pistol and aiming it at the other man in the room, sending one shot to his thigh and the other to his left shoulder before she empties the magazine and throws the pistol at the guy's face knocking him out.

Two more men to go.

Lucky for Natasha, the shooting and her elegant, quick movements confused the last two dummies. Plus, with their own smoke, it makes it impossible to see someone as highly trained as The Black Widow.

You nearly jump when Natasha slides on the kitchen floor before you. You go to speak, but Natasha signals with her hands to zip it.

You nod and try to think about how good she looks, kicking these guy's ass.

Natasha puts a hand in front of your face, making you focus up. You okay? She asks with her hands. You nod, making the redhead spy smile.

A genuine smile, too.

And even though she said it earlier, that's when you truly realize that Natasha is protecting you. Whether it's her job or not, you like to believe it's because she cares for you. Even if just a little bit.

Your beliefs would be correct.

However, before you could ask Natasha if she was doing okay or what her favorite color is, you watch her take off running. The smoke in the room shoots out and away from Natasha. You watch in amazement as Natasha jumps and wraps her legs around a man's head before spinning the top half of her body around, sending the man head first into the floor. His nose breaking on impact. Her landing on her feet.

Is it weird that you want that done to you?

"Your friends are taken care of. So I suggest you come out and let me kick your ass too." Natasha speaks aloud with her back facing you to the last man standing as the smoke in the room clears.

You stand up from the ground and take a step towards Nat. The gun still tightly gripped in your hand. Your eyes remain on Natasha as she starts to walk back towards you; however, before she turns around, your body gets hit with a force from the side. Launching your head into the cabinets to your left.

"Ow fucker!" You yell!

The crashing sound and your curse alerting Natasha. The larger man places his hand on your mask and pushes your head into the cabinet again, this time making it bleed as his other hand reaches for your gun. "Give up!" He yells before removing his hand from your mask to punch you in the side of your body. You groan and stumble.

He reels back to hit you again, but instead, Natasha rips the gun from your hand with efficiency and pistol whips the man in the face, sending him flying back. The man yells in pain as he readies himself to fight, but Natasha is fast. She runs and kicks the guy in his ankle, making him fall to his knee. She smirks as he yells out in pain before she double kicks him in the throat, making him fall as he begins to choke.

Before anger entirely overtakes Natasha, she hears you crash to the floor behind her. When Natasha turns around, she sees blood on the sides of the counter.

"Y/N!" Natasha runs to your side and drops the gun next to the two of you. Instantly, she's ripping the gas mask off of you and turning your head. "Let me see." She gingerly pulls your chin, making you look away so she can examine the extent of your head injury. "It doesn't look deep. But we need to stop the bleeding."

Natasha quickly looks around the damaged kitchen before finding a forgotten rag. She places it on your head and hates how you wince in pain.

"Keep your hand here." Natasha takes your left hand and places it over the rag over the cut. "Be honest.." You start as Natasha looks over the rest of you.

"Do I look cool or like dogshit?"

Natasha's lips crack into a smile at your joke. "You look so cool," Natasha says, whether it was true or not. "You took some hits, too. Impressive." Natasha says with a smile. "Yeah, well, someone didn't yell Goose." You playfully hit Natasha's leg with your foot.

"Next time." She says.

"Oh! Next time?" You say and continue. "Planning on our next date being another shootout?" You raise an eyebrow but wince when you move your head a bit too much at the moment, saving Natasha from seeing her blush.

"Who said anything about a date?" Natasha quips. You knew it was coming, but you still had a smile. "You're right. I guess shootouts aren't a good date idea. I'll pick something better for, let's say... Friday?" You laughed at your own joke per usual, but ended up coughing in pain. Not per usual.

Natasha's hands immediately went to the hem of your shirt before you reacted. "Hey. What did I say? We haven't had our date yet." Natasha thought it was cute but still rolled her eyes. "I need to check to ensure you're not bleeding internally."

"Can you really tell?" You questioned. "No. But I know a thing or two more than you, so let me look." She had you there. So, with your permission, Natasha slowly lifted your shirt but made a face when she saw your red skin already bruising and enlarging. "It's not awful, but it's going to hurt a lot before it gets better."

Natasha places her hand over the area and begins to rub. "Does it hurt here?" She lays a small out of pressure, forcing you to nod in pain. "Not at all." You whine and clench your jaw. "Okay... I'm going to call this in. Get us evac'd."

Your eyes widened not because of Natasha's words but because of the guy behind Natasha. Yes, the one she kicked in the throat started to get up. "Natasha..." You said, making her look into your eyes. "What's wrong?"

She noticed how you looked.

Natasha turned behind her to see the man perched up on his good knee. Gun in hand. She immediately puts her body directly in front of yours.

"Step aside, widow. Let me kill this one without trouble."

"Not going to let that happen." Natasha reached behind her and expertly grabbed the gun she gave you earlier from the floor and pulled it in front of her, not wasting another breath as she fired the weapon twice—one into the man's chest and the other directly into the man's head.

From her crouched position, she got up with precision and made it to the man on the floor. She kicked the smoking gun out of his hand and made sure he was... Wait- smoking gun?

Natasha looked from the gun to you.

Fear ran through her body as she saw your figure slumped over on the floor in a bigger pool of your own blood.

Natasha would've ran to your body if this would've been her first time in a position like this, but it wasn't. She had saved countless people before, and she was not about to lose you!

So Natasha ran to her bag and rifled through a side pocket until she found her phone and a needle of Tetrodotoxin B. A drug developed by Bruce Banner with the idea of slowing his heart rate to one beat per minute. Natasha didn't know if it worked on Bruce or not, but she knew SHEILD had it for some reason.

Right now, that reason was going to be you.

As Natasha flicked the end of the needle and pulled your arm out in front of you, she called Clint on speaker phone. "Sorry if this hurts," Natasha said to your now unconscious body. Her eyes watering.

"Hello?"

"Go secure!" Natasha yelled as she sat your body up and ripped off the right half of your shirt to examine your bullet wound.

"Secure," Clint replied. "Shit!" Natasha replied, confusing the bow and arrow man. "Natasha?"

Nat looked at your head wound and the rest of your body. The Banner drug was going to help keep you alive, but you were still losing blood.

Natasha hated everything about this moment.

Ups and downs. The day Natasha met someone who didn't know who she was. The day she could actually see herself being around someone was also the day they were bleeding out in front of her.

"I need evac! Safehouse A is blown. Got caught up in a shoot out, and Y/N is hit."

She got up and went to look for whatever medical supplies she had in addition to any extra clothes to get you changed and wrapped your wound.

"Y/N?" Clint questioned. "Like the Golden retriever? The neighbor from across the hall?"

"Yep! She's not going to make it unless you send someone right now, Clint."Natasha didn't want to believe her words. Barton, for one thing, couldn't.

"Are you serious?"

"Serious as a God falling from the sky."

"Go to safe house B. Evac is on the way."

With that, the line clicked, and the call ended. Natasha did her best to dress your injuries before the only thing she was doing was watching how slow your breathing had become...

You woke up to bright lights above you and a horrible feeling in your nose... and head.... and shoulder... and side. Wow!

Wow.

Okay, so you actually had this horrible feeling called pain all over you.

You tried lifting your head to look around, but it felt like a ton of bricks was pushing on your skull. But you pushed through and found a short brown-haired man sitting in a chair by the only door in or out. "Who the fuck was he?" You thought and tried to speak, but your throat was too scratchy to say anything, making you cough.

The man in the chair looked up at the noise and noticed you.

He sent a quick message on his phone before closing it. He got up from his lazy position, running to your bedside table, and filled up a tiny paper cup full of water. "Here." He said as he held it in front of your lips.

You don't know if he didn't trust you or if your hands/arms were too weak. You didn't want to find out, so you took a sip from the cup and let the cold water run down your burning throat. "Thank you."

"Welcome." Silence. "Natasha should be down here soon. I let her know you woke up." You tilted your head and looked over the man, slightly nodding. "So you're Y/N?" He already knew, but Clint was happy he could talk to someone new for a change. Even if he did talk like an uncle, you don't see but once every couple of years.

"Where am I?" You ignored the man walking back to the chair near the door and asked.

"You're safe if that's your concern." He spoke, but you just sighed. "Anytime a woman is alone in a room with a man and he says something like that. It doesn't make her feel safe."

Clint bit his lip as he listened to your words before nodding along. "Can't argue with that." Clint got up again from the chair and made his way to you. Making you jump and look him over. "I'm Clint. I'm the one Natasha spoke to on the phone." You remembered the phone call before the windows blew out, but not much after getting your head thrown into a kitchen cabinet.

"Hi, Clint. Are you going to tell me where I am?" You asked in a tone more annoyed off than friendly. Clint smiled. "I see why Natasha likes you."

Now that got you interested!

But before you or Uncle Clint could say anything else, the door opened, and in ran Natasha. Her cuts are all covered by bandages, and her face clean from a shower. "How long has she been up?" Natasha passed her friend, stopping to stand next to you.

"I let you know the second she did." Clint smiled at you and Natasha. "I'll leave you to it." Natasha thanked Clint, and the two of you watched him leave the room.

"You probably feel like shit huh?" Natasha questioned, but as she reached to move a hair from your face, you backed away. Natasha didn't understand why. "Y/N?" She asked.

"Who are you?" You asked, making Natasha's jaw drop before she quickly recovered. Helen didn't mention any memory loss. Natasha looked away, a little hurt that this might be the case, but when she looked back, she saw you smiling. Teeth sinking into your bottom lip. Holding in a laugh.

Natasha figured it out.

"Fuck you!"

"I got you!" You laughed and cheered before wincing in pain and coughing. Making Natasha smile at the instant karma while getting you a cup of water. "Serves you right."

She held the cup up to your pink lips and watched a little spill out the corners of your mouth. She watched a droplet slide down your throat and disappear into your gown.

Your voice bringing Natasha back. "I just lived through many movie cliches. I HAD to do this one." You said, making Natasha smile and nod to you before she sat at the edge in the middle of the bed.

Natasha wanted to reach for your hand as silence enveloped the two of you. She wanted to tell you how close you were to dying or how scared she was. But Natasha didn't reach for your hand.

Instead, you reached for hers.

"You know if a hot spy is going to come into my hospital room in an unknown location, the least she could do is hold my hand."

That made Natasha Romanoff blush.

"Hot spy, huh?" Natasha teased, but you just nodded, feeling confident. "Look in a mirror, Natasha." Natasha laughed. "Sometimes you really just don't stop flirting." That made you smile. Natasha didn't say it was lousy flirting. "Just wait till we start dating."

"Oh?" Natasha raised her eyebrow but hit back a smile. "Is that what we're going to do?"

"Yeah, remember, shootouts don't count. So Friday, you and I are going out." Natasha shook her head but didn't disagree. "You don't even know what day it is." That was true. "Friday...?" You looked at Natasha with hope, but she shook her head again. "Nope. Besides. I like it went my dates aren't still in a hospital bed." You sighed but internally screamed at Natasha, flirting back. Natasha watched you before turning away. Her thumb rubbed over yours.

"Hey.." Natasha started making you look at her. "I- I'm sorry for getting you involved in my mess. You-" Natasha stopped and pulled her hand away to rub her face. "You almost died because of me." Natasha felt guilty. She should've kicked you out the second you weren't a threat. Instead, she liked having your company. In the minutes you spent in Natasha's presence, she wanted to keep you around.

"Natasha." You reached out for her hand again and was surprised when she gave it to you. But you still pulled her hand, making her look to you. Her green eyes shining. You nodded for Natasha to scoot closer.

She did.

"Don't blame yourself." Natasha went to open her mouth, but you interrupted her. "There's no doubt I would be dead if you hadn't been there. Besides... I'm the curious one. I knocked on your door. I wanted to get to know you. I stuck around because I wanted to. My body hurts like hell. But I'm alive because of you."

Natasha didn't look entirely convinced, but that would come in time. It was sad to see this badass person beat herself up over something that wasn't your fault or hers. It just happened because of horrible people. "Can you at least do me something?" Natasha tilted her head. "What?"

"Can you at least tell yourself that you saved me?" That sounded like a big ask at the moment but not as big as the next thing. "And! Tell me that you actually enjoy my flirting because it's only going to get worse." That made Natasha throw her head back and laugh, making you smile.

You were so focused on Natasha that you didn't see the room door open.

"Oh wow, never thought I'd see the day. Natasha Romanoff laughing! Time!?!" The man with a striking anchor beard and a Tom Ford suit called out as he walked closer to the bed you laid in.

"Good to see you awake. It's nice to put a name to the face of my almost-dead Budapest employee."

Tony Stark looked you over as sassy as the man is known for before looking at Natasha, who was internally scolding him for mispronouncing Budapesht.

"Quite a catch, that one. So what's the diagnosis?! How long we got?" He picked up your chart and began flipping through paperwork he should not be looking at before Natasha took it. "Tony..." She sounded exhausted already. "What are you doing here?"

"I told you." He said, looking upset that your chart got taken away from him. "I came to see who was moving in."

If Tony Stark. Your boss. Who also happens to have a hobby of flying around in a gold and red suit wasn't shocking enough to you than that last sentence that he said was.

"Moving in?!?" You asked, shocked. Ton- Mr. Stark- no Iron Man..?! What were you supposed to call him?!

Mr. Tony Man looked from you to Natasha before saying: "Looks like you didn't tell the Misses." This made Natasha get up and grab the not-so-tin man by his collar, whispering methods of torture she would use if he didn't leave the two of you alone.

"I expect to see you at work once you make a full recovery!" Tony yelled and pointed at you before the redhead slammed the door in his face.

Natasha composed herself before turning to you, still wearing a shocked face. "Moving in?!?" You asked again. Natasha nodded as she walked to you. "Yes. We-" She sighed. "I thought it would be the safest option for you. Plus, you can recover here. You're back in the States." Natasha's words fell on the quiet side before she sat on the bed.

Closer to you this time. "I can think of a few other reasons.." You look at Natasha and smiled.

"You don't have to. If you want to leave or go back to Budapesht, I understand." Natasha wants you to know that there is no pressure to stay. But you already know this. If you wanted to get up right now and leave, Natasha would probably let you.

"Staying might be nice."

"Yeah?" Natasha looks hopeful. "Yeah." Natasha smiles and reaches her hand to your face. Moving a stray hair back behind your ear. "If you do stay, that means I can tell you the best part."

"Oh yeah? What's that?" You curiously ask as Natasha looks at you like she's got some big secret.

"I'd be your neighbor across the hall."

You were free to leave the hospital bed 4 days later.

The next day you moved in right across from Natasha Romanoff.

A week later you took her on a date.

dividers by @/benkeibear

184 notes · View notes

phoenix--flying · 1 year

Text

pjo characters as things my friend group has said

Hazel: I just kinda radiate towards caves

Nico: Breathing has been taken out of Nicos software

Connor: I can speedrun to your house when you're home alone

Cecil: raisins are dehydrated rats

Percy: It's a roller coaster where the only option is to die

Will: I just goooot- my jugular sliced open by a cat

Nico: We're going out tonight and killing all the homophobes. Call it a date

Will: Why am I so much taller then- Oh its cause im standing on a dead body

Connor: You're sooo welcome. I literally did nothing

Hazel: Just because your trash doesn't mean you can't do great things. It's called a trash can not a trash cannot

Piper: Cut my hair, I'll cut your throat

Thalia: Sometimes I do slap kids

Travis: When I grow up I'm gonna be a legal drug dealer

Beckendorf: I’m going to drop kick myself into space

Malcom: Briefly describe three applications that make use of the total eternal reflection of light Connor: The colour seven

Grover: Percys reaching old age, we should put him in a retirement home

Piper: Leo what did you do Leo: I may have burned down an orphanage and it may have spread to this site.

Lou Ellen: Travelling, usually done on the ceiling

Will: Imagine sitting on your couch watching TV and your phone buzzes. Reminder: Breathe

Austin: i just broke an acorn.. panic whY IS THERE AN ACORN IN MY ROOM

Nico: i feel like today happened yesterday and i just slept for all of tomorrow and woke up in the evening

Malcom: yeah i fell down the stairs and broke my spine in 3 places Connor: that's hot

Jason: Nitroglycerin. The forbidden smoothie

Will: I always look like trash. Annabeth: I know that's why I hate looking like trash

Travis: well we only have a few minutes left of class.. y'all wanna watch something explode

Piper: It sounded like you smoked 10 packs of cigarettes and then hit puberty

Jason: Imagine you get fired the day after you die

Nico: My stomach just like...started learning German

Nyssa: Leo if you don't leave, i'm shoving this desk fan up your ass

Jason: I slammed my foot on the accelerator, running multiple red lights at 220km/h, because I wanted to drive safe

Nyssa: When you go through the car wash but you forget the car

Drew: *points at trashcan* That looks like you

Nico: I only want chemistry between me and a coffin

Jake: Gotta put your wheelchair in 4Wheeldrive. Outdoor mode. Off-road mode

Leo: Murder is ok as long as its fine

Percy: Maybe if I fall asleep on my textbook I'll wake up with all the knowledge

Connor: Let's play spin the bottle but it's only you and me

Leo: Now how do we calculate the density if swiss cheese

Clarisse: I have to ask one of the experts Chris: Who are the experts? Clarisse: I don't know

Piper: Your mom is on vacation Leo: well- she's on a permanent vacation

Michael: AYO BITCH YOUR FOODS FLAMIN THE FUCK

Silena: If you're slow I'm a fucking snail

Jason: We need to hold a funeral! Percy: Here comes the bride

Beckendorf: Have you ever died? No??? Well here you go!!! Death simulator. It’s permanent!

*Annabeth and Percy sitting on a bench with drinks and a cop drives by* Percy: What if they thought we were drinking and driving Annabeth: We're not in a car

Will: I'm so smart Nico: Oh my god since when

Piper: *gives Leo a singular goldfish* Piper: Feeding the poor

Lou Ellen: Bless your soul Nico: What soul? Lou Ellen: ...good answer

Sherman: an apple a day keeps the doctor away, and anybody else if you throw it hard enough

Connor: I can see the veins in my eyes

Ellis: Whatever sinks your boat!

Cecil: You can't kill the gays if the gays kill you first

Will: dude sorry there's a knife in your grandma's face it grew wings and flew there :( Cecil: I’m sorry my knife flew out of my hand and slit that guys throat then burned it so he wouldn’t bleed

Silena: *playing Minecraft* I walked into your house and your birds started aggressively dancing at me

Lee: That's just so unfortunate for me. That is just so- oh I died

Percy: Wanna go to Toronto? Why drive just take the Earth Quake on natural disaster

Travis: The roof is just caving in on us it's fine

Michael: My arms are broken, my legs are broken, my lungs are broken, my knees are broken, I got decapitated when I was five

Connor: We're gonna die? No we're gonna beat the speedrun world record

Cecil: Hell to go down I there

Will: Mask to mask resuscitation

Travis: I may or may not have accidentally dropped a match in the building on purpose

Nico: Minecraft but I accidentally sets a school on fire

Percy: Minecraft but I die of hypothermia

Piper: Minecraft but I left my eyes at home

Jake: Minecraft but my legs are broken

Jason: Minecraft but I died

Lou Ellen: Minecraft but we're all gay

Will: If I die the game is homophobic

Cecil: Minecraft but I run my best friend over

Nico: I wanna hit a citizen with a baseball bat

Michael: Hey sir, you have Alzheimer’s. Would you like a side of bronchitis?

Silena: Why can't this be straight? Lee: Because you're not

Lou Ellen: mmmm i love my jesus fish Cecil: bro jesus fish Lou Ellen: ikr, jesus moment

839 notes · View notes

queen-of-scissors · 1 year

Note

Okay so how about the reader coming home after an exhausting day basically dead on their feet only to fine the acolytes in their house

💧anon

This is a good one i like 👌🤌

İ think i read something like this before, time to make my own version!

(also would be so cool if you asked me on what characters you want me to add next time so i can make it even better for you :D)

Masterlist

More under the cut!

Halucinations??

The whole day you were thinking about going home, getting a nice, warm bath, and going to sleep after all the work that you have done.

You were so exhausted that even getting your shoes off and opening the door felt like a chore. So you took your time, its not like it was due anytime haha.

While you get your keys out, you realised a sweet aroma filling the air, maybe one of your neighbors is making food, which made you realise you are actually hungry.

The smell was so out of this world that you would kill to get a piece of whatever they were making, but your exhaustion didn't make you even move. So you decided to ask for the recipe tommorrow.

You finally opened the door and draged yourself inside. The smell getting stronger but you opened the windows before leaving so you brushed it off as the neighbor profably has as well.

You open the door of your room, passed some group of people that made noise and fall on top of your bed. Slowly dosing off.

......

.....wait a second.

You wake up and stand back up the second you realise what the hell is happening.

"W-WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!"

"Your Grace!! We can explain!"

"GET OUT GET OUT!" you grab the nearest thing you can use as a weapon.

suprisingly, that scares them?

"PLEASE DONT EXECUTE US WE DİDN'T MEAN TO!!!"

"İ SAİD GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HOUSE!!!"

"PLEASE LİSTEN TO US FİRST YOUR HİGHNESS"

You throw your weapon at them and grab something else.

"İ WİLL CALL THE COPS!!!"

"WHO İS COPS?!"

"WHAT KİND OF QUESTİON- JUST LEAVE!!!!!"

"OKAY OKAY!!!!"

They slowly take a step back, "just don't be scared ok?"

Now that you regained most of your senses because of their calmer voice and further distance, you can analyse the situation.

These people, who are in a very cool cosplay of genshin impact, came in your house, and acted like you are the Queen of england for some reason??

İf you weren't scared out of your mind, you would be pretty goddamn impressed by all the cosplays.

Albedou's face looks like it's handmade made from chalk, Al haitham was super tall and well built, Like straight out of a Wattpad story. YELAN LOOKED SO HOT?!?! The only meh cosplay was Kujou Sara's cosplay. The material looked pretty hard.

Venti's outfit was unlike any cosplays you ever seen, it had crazy amount of detail. Nahida's hair looked so real that you bet it glows too! Even Ei and zhongli's eyes have a little glow on them.

".....why are you in cosplay..."

"Cos.... Play?"

"WHY ARE YOU HERE AT ALL??"

"Perhaps it is better that i explain" Albedou's mouth moved, you kind of got scared as it looked like it can break any second.

"Perhaps you don't recocnise us, but we are your followers."

"This is so weird...."

He continued without paying you any mind. "İ recently came across a knowledge that we can contact you without breaking the holy scripture.

So naturally, i experimented on it. And i managed to open up a portal that leads us to your world."

"Ok now you are talking nonsense."

"Quite the contrary, its only science"

"NOTHİNG ABOUT THİS İS SCİENCE!!'

"With that said" Kujou Sara spoke "we weren't sure if it was concidered a sin in your eyes." She fall to her knees, the other imitiating her. "We are ready to take our punishment you deem necessary."

You just... Stared at them...

THESE PEOPLE ARE İNSANE!!!!

"Yeah im not calling the cops. İm gonna call an ambulance"

Before you manage to take your phone and dial in numbers, Albedo asked you "uh, your highness...?"

"What?"

"İt seems that i forgot to take out the food from the fire. Could i go and make sure it isn't burned?"

"...the smell was your cooking?"

"Forgive me, i was looking through the devices in your world and got carried away, i wasnt sure on the purpose of the device, and decided to Cook something."

Your stomack rumbles at that, you aren't sure if you should eat anything an insane person does but you were too tired to think anyway.

"....could i taste it..?"

His eyes go wide "...realy?"

"İm... A bit hungry, i didnt have time to eat today."

"Of course! İll go grab you a plate!"

The others also raise their head "Can we do anything else?!"

"Uhhh???" You weren't sure, would they go aggresive if you don't let them? They might have actuall mental illness afterall...

"You guys can sit down in the living room, that would help!"

Al haitham looked at you "help with...?"

"Uhh, me to gather my toughts?"

"Of course! Take your time." Zhongli sais. And then adds "...sorry to disturb you but... Where is the living room?"

"Where television is?" You decide to test them

"Uhhh, huh... Vision.... Where vision is...."

"Oh boy just follow me."

-------------------------

You ate your food. İt was so good! But you kind of wished you didn't wish for tasting the food before coming inside the home and wish for something else. Like all your work going away.

You joined them in the living room. Ei and Sara looks were sitting on the ground, in front of the coffee table. They all turned at you when you walk in.

"Feeling better?" Nahida asked "your face gained its color back!"

"...yeah, thank you for the food."

"Will you hear us out now?" Al haitham spoke up, he was getting tired himself.

"How did you come here?" You decide to ask. Maybe getting some clues on who they actually are and help the cops, who are on their way.

"We opened a portal from our world to your world." Albedo explained again.

"Right, right, but i meant how did you come inside my house?"

"We fell"

"Fell?"

"We were thrown out of some strange device."

"Device... You mean my computer?"

"Com.. comput-er?"

You decide to check on it, praying that they didn't break it....

İt was there! Safe! Not a single scratch! You thank whatever god that came to mind for it.

Then you Heard a strange noise coming from your computer. İt never made that noise before.

You opened your computer.

As soon as you do, wind pics up and sucks everything that is not supported by something heavy inside the computer.

The screen looks like a small version of the abyss, and you see your work papers/notes fly inside the screen.

You immediatly close the computer.

Yeah you are halucinating from working too much. When you wake up, everything will be back to normal.

No more maddness. Just sleep.

And with that you fall back on your bed.

After a dreamless slumber, you wake up to knocking on the door.

"Police! There has been a notice about 8 people forcefully getting inside the house, we are armed and will shoot if you ressist!"

"Your grace..?"

Uh-oh it wasnt a dream.

You quickly got up from your bed and opened the front door.

"Ah im sorry im the one who sent that. My friends were just playing a prank on me and i didn't realise it was them. İm sorry for disturbing you."

The cops just said something about fake notice and left.

"OH MY GOD THİS İS SO STRESSFUL!!"

"How did you call them here?"

"Nevermind that... God i need a break..."

"Will you listen to us for Real this time?" Nahida asked, actually worried about you.

You droped your head. You know what you saw. But you are still not sure if you should belive them. But at this point, what can you even do?

"Fine, please tell me from the start."

___________________________________________

You denied their request. You can't leave your own world, at least not yet.

But they weren't going to give up on you that easily. So they weren't leaving anytime soon either.

Yeah you aren't going to be able to open your computer for a while.

Well at least they are the best room buddies you can ever hope for.

Zhongli is confused about money situation but got the hang of it pretty quickly.

Yelan, Nahida, albedo and al haitham all tried to convince you into visiting Tevat.

"Man this house chores are pain"

"İt wouldnt be if you were in tevat smh" Yelan said.

Venti bought wine with your money. (They be expensive) but apologised with a song he made for you!

Ei acts like a guard dog for you. Not sleeping at all and keeping an eye on you (apperantly she stoped a criminal and is a Superhero now)

So its pretty caotic untill you decide to leave this world and go back home.

Where you belong :)

828 notes · View notes

cars-on-the-moon · 10 months

Text

The Carlando AU you chose!

Soulmates AU

(Everything written is imaginative. Nothing is true)

He remembered his birthday and he did actually remember the moment he felt that excruciating pain right on his left thigh. He had exaggerated his intolerance of pain, but he hadn’t felt like this before. As if he was being scratched; marked. Well, he was being marked with the hope that somewhere, someone was made for him, had come to this life to be with him.

Lando’s mother was a good woman, a great one that had explained to all her children what soulmates were and how it worked. She brought them up to be hopeful but not sure. She had broken down her luck with their father but had made them promise to never obsess over finding their soulmates because perhaps karma had decided to play a game with them and made their soulmate be Australian or Siberian or whatever country Lando had no idea about.

Thus, he grew up almost forgetting about his little scar, he started running around in cars, left school, joined McLaren and became an F1 driver at the age of 19. By then, he was completely unimpressed when it came to soulmates.

When his brother had announced that he was marrying his? Lando was unimpressed. When Alex had strutted in and announced that he had found his soulmate in Lily, he was unimpressed then too.

And suddenly, he was 23. The season had started poorly, to put it lightly, and his spirits were descending into dark places by the day. It had been almost a year since he had broken his relationship off and his little adventures here and there weren’t enough to make him forget-

“It’s so busy, mierda.” Carlos plopped down next to him on the step.

Lando smiled, nodded in absolute agreement, as Monaco was busting with crowds of people and celebrities and kids and everything.

“I like Monaco, but Dios, it’s crazy.” the Spaniard continued. “Alright?” he turned to Lando.

“Fine. It’s very hot too. I think I’m going to the beach in Barcelona.” he faked an exaggerated accent.

“We should!” Carlos rounded his stupid eyes widely.

“Who invited you?”

Carlos then kicked his heel with his foot, making him giggle.

“Ay, don’t be rude cabrón.” the Spaniard protested. “I thought you wanted the local guide. Good luck finding a secluded beach.” he shrugged his shoulder and turned to George, who was greeting the little group.

Lando raised his fist to bump George’s but quickly disregarded his presence to speak to Carlos. He scratched his irritated leg and suppressed another little yawn.

“Fine, you can come. Spill the secret locations.”

“Nah, I got over it, I’ll go to my hotel’s pool.” he stood back up, fiddling with his suit knot. “Have fun in Barcelona.” he threw his way a wink and started walking the other way.

Lando blew an obnoxious raspberry and steadied his head on the wall behind him. He shut his eyes for a few seconds, thinking about Barcelona indeed. Waters, ice-creams, Carlos. Lando opened his eyes and straightened his head. No, not Carlos. Just waters and ice-creams.

His affection for Carlos had its ups and downs. Or that’s what he told himself all the time. For example, when he left McLaren, Lando was mad at him. When /that/ happened in Brazil, Lando was awkward. When Carlos decided to join him and Zak in their exclusive golf trip, Lando was happy. Up and down. But mostly up. Mostly.

“…I have a thousand interviews. I’m so sorry.” Carlos huffed from the other side of the line, clearly frustrated. “I just-I just wanted to stay and just relax for an hour. One hour, Lando.”

“It’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Lando replied him, internally weeping. He needed that hour of relaxation too.

On Sunday, he finally saw Carlos in the club and then in his hotel’s bar for a last drink with Caco and Rupert.

“It was an exhausting weekend. I want Barcelona out.” Carlos said, downing his beer. “Don’t tell anyone.” he then turned to Lando.

“I will tell Domenicalli.” Lando wiggled his eyebrows scratching idly his irked thigh.

“Idiota.” Carlos grinned then and finally Lando was able to feel at ease again.

He had no idea why Carlos’s feelings had an immediate connection to his. Although, of course when Max wasn’t good, Lando was sad too. His mum always said he was empathetic.

“…one more?”

Lando realised Carlos was talking to him.

“Wha?”

“I said, the bar’s closing. Do you want one to go? You can come up to mine.”

“Sure.” Lando shrugged, collecting his phone and camera from the counter.

Carlos opened the door of his room, letting Lando in and turned the light of the night table on.

“View’s sick.” Lando remarked. “It’s similar to mine.“ he said, taking a photo of it. A bit blurry, a bit move-y, a bit not professional, but still fine.

“Here.” he handed him the beer. “I owe you a swim lesson.” he clinked his bottle.

“Oy! I know how to swim!” Lando furrowed his eyebrows.

“I’m not sure. You always seem like you’re drowning-ay cabrón, that hurts!” Carlos protested after Lando had pinched his upper arm.

They talked about a bunch of random topics other than racing, racing before the balcony door.

“Lando,” Carlos mumbled at some point, after a long conversation halt. “Isabella wasn’t my soulmate.” he said out of the blue.

Lando averted his eyes from Barceloneta and looked at Carlos with raised eyebrows.

“I know it doesn’t matter, because, who finds their soulmate, no? But yeah.”

Lando shuffled on his chair.

“Um, is that why you broke up?” he asked, having nothing to offer really.

“No, we couldn’t lie to each other anymore.” he replied solemnly.

“You’re being a tad bit sentimental and I’m scared.” Lando tried to lighten the mood.

Carlos’s lips quirked up and he let his head fall bag, hang from the back of the chair.

“You’re right. Sorry.”

“No! It’s not bad. But I don’t know what to say.” Lando immediately said. “I’m just a loser in this area so…”

“Only in this area?” Carlos teased.

Lando reached for his upper arm to pinch him once more but Carlos was quicker and he grabbed his wrist harshly, causing for Lando to tumble down, inches away from his chair.

“Oof, that hurt.” Lando groaned but chose to remain spread on the floor.

Carlos chuckled obnoxiously loud and sp laced his beer on the table in front of him. He then stood up and extended his arm to Lando.

“Come on cabrón.” he said.

Lando took his hand and pulled with force, making Carlos yelp and fall flat on Lando.

“Lando!” Carlos grumbled on Lando’s chest.

“I had to.” Lando laughed, shutting his eyes. His right arm enveloped Carlos by its own accord, while he continued laughing his weekend exhaustion away.

He only stopped when he felt Carlos moving on him and opened his eyes to find him standing on his elbows looking down at him.

His hair was falling over his left eye and his lips were parted. Lando focused on the bottom one that was full, pink and absolutely delicious.

And there they were. Those odd thoughts, feelings he possessed of Carlos. Those ones that whenever they entered his mind, he tried hard to push out or away again.

“Am I heavy?” he whispered.

Lando opened his mouth to reply him, but nothing came out. Nothing at all.

“Should I get up, Lando?” Carlos asked again, almost pleading him. Was he pleading?

“N-No.” Lando stuttered.

Slowly, painfully, Carlos lowered himself even more and only when his lips were a breath away from Lando’s, the latter understood. He couldn’t wait anymore. He wouldn’t wait anymore. So, he took the leap and kissed Carlos. His teammate. His golf partner. His ex-teammate. His friend. His very good friend.

The moan that left him was a result of a jolt that traveled down his very core, having never felt like this. He contemplated for a moment if it was because he was a man or because he had a familiar, solid foundation with him. However, the contemplation stopped when Carlos’s tongue traveled on his upper lip, asking for entrance that the Brit immediately granted.

“Fucking hell.” Lando breathlessly remarked when they stopped for air. “Fuck. Fuck.” he repeated a few times. His hand was still in a tight fist, gripping Carlos’s t-shirt.

“Am I hurting you?” Carlos asked him.

“No, come here.” Lando pulled him back in.

They ended up on the bed after Lando’s back started hurting and they ended up falling asleep, just as the sky had turned bordeaux.

Lando woke up through a rude phone call with Jon and after a three-second contemplation, he placed a quick kiss on Carlos’s cheek and fled.

I didn’t take you for a man that runs away.

Lando rolled his eyes exaggeratedly to his screen, drawing Max’s attention. He was already in Monaco, after an 1-hour and 15-minute flight to Nice and a 20-minute car ride.

He took a picture of the waters and his brunch and sent it Carlos’s way to avoid embarrassing himself with a stupid respond.

He received one back with the view of Barceloneta through Carlos’s hotel room. Yes, the same one they had /kissed/ in.

He closed WhatsApp and refocused on Max, who was talking a mile per hour to his girlfriend. Well then.

He opened Instagram and tapped on F1’s new story that had something to do with Charles and then Carlos popped up on his screen. He squinted and placed his thumb on the story in order to stop it from changing.

Ruffled hair, white t-shirt and that view. That bloody view.

A non-Ferrari post? I’m shook.

Got your attention, didn’t it? and yeah, Lando was flushed all over.

Carlos, are you flirting mate? he had to ask; better be safe than sorry.

Am I allowed?

Lando grinned widely then. So widely that Max finally remembered that he was present too.

They texted here and there, mostly photos or memes. Carlos had a heavy schedule that week before Canada and Lando had arranged a little trip to New York with Martin before arriving in Montreal.

Lando could not lie; everything was so awkward in his head. He had kissed Carlos Sainz. It sounded awkward. It was awkward. But as time paced away, everything was a blurry dream and when after Monday before the race they stopped communicating, he was rather sure that indeed it had been a dream.

He had caught a glimpse of him somewhere in the paddock and on the track, zooming around in his red car, but they had yet to talk.

Kevin was a great guy. He was surprisingly funny and so much younger than he looked and was perceived of. He was saying something about Nico when Lando grasped that Carlos was walking towards them. He chose to ignore it and scratch his leg out of an awkward habit of doing something with his hands.

Carlos pinched him right on his chest and Kevin could only laugh after finishing his utterance, a moment later.

“Don’t do that.” Landon said.

Carlos fiddled with his suit on the thigh and turned to him, leaning.

“What?” he asked.

“Don’t do that.” Lando repeated. “In front of cameras. I look Iike a child.”

Alex said something about something but Lando talked to Carlos again.

“I don’t like being teased.” he reminded him his relationship with touch.

“Oh, you don’t?” Carlos asked, openly mocking him and raised his hand to cup his cheek.

Lando slightly rounded his eyes but thanks to his reflexes, he quickly swatted Carlos’s hand away.

They both laughed, even Alex did and Carlos returned to his spot, gazing forward.

He wasn’t going to lie. Lando wanted to say more; be touched more. On the cheek? Whatever. On the cheek.

After a very good race per his opinion, he started his media duties and hang around in the media pen for a while, waiting for his turn. He tightened his suit around him and scratched his leg again before Carlos arrived too.

“Yes, you are very unsportsmanlike. I always said.” Carlos remarked. “They see you looking all cute and they think you’re a marshmallow. They don’t know like I do.” he added playfully.

Lando chuckled at that, shaking his head.

“I am a marshmallow.”

“That could kill you.” Carlos finished for him.

“I am cute, mate.” he insisted.

Carlos raised his right eyebrow up high.

“That, you are.” Carlos admitted.

Lando found his eyes that were already looking back and for a moment he wondered if he should laugh or-

“Mate, good racing, no?” Esteban Ocon approach them and -well, damnit Ocon.

Are you out? he received as he was watching Quadrant’s video he had yet to watch, while he was brushing his teeth.

No, too tired. he replied. You? he added just for the politeness of it.

We are close. Do you want to come here? he received. His heart immediately responded by beating harder than before, but Lando was not easy. He would never be.

What part of ‘I’m tired’ you did get?

Ok. We’ll talk in two weeks in Austria then.

Lando huffed. So, he was easy.

Send me your address.

He fixed his hair, as if he could tame it and readjusted his jeans, patting his thigh, which was a bit fuzzy tonight.

“You look good, despite the exhaustion.” Carlos remarked when he walked in.

Lando scoffed, taking his jacket off. “You don’t have to playboy me. I have already snogged you-”

He didn’t manage to finish his sarcastic utterance, as Carlos was already on him, having captured his lips, holding him in between his palms by his cheeks.

He let go only when he pulled back.

“Sorry. You don’t like being touched.” he whispered, almost on his lips.

“I like being touched by you.” Lando replied him, reaching for his back.

“You said otherwise.”

“Shut it. Kiss me again.” he commanded and Carlos listened.

“Lando,” he said. “I cannot stop thinking about you. What are you doing to me.” the Spaniard revealed.

“Do you say that to everyone?” Lando asked.

Carlos tightened his grip on Lando’s lower back and slightly shook him.

“No. Mierda, no.” he replied.

He took a step back and ran his fingers through his significantly longer locks.

“I-I turned the hot tub on. Come on.”

“What?”

“I owe you swimming lessons.” Carlos smirked.

Lando rounded his eyes and followed him to only find a massive tub that overlooked Montreal and for a moment, he wondered if Carlos had changed rooms and requested for it.

When he turned to him again, he had removed his shirt and even if Lando had seen him like this again, he felt his throat drying instantly.

“Come on,” he urged Lando and reached for his own t-shirt. Lando let him, raising his arms up.

“I don’t have trunks.”

“It’s fine.” Carlos smiled and reached for his buttons.

Lando’s breath hitched. He wasn’t embarrassed or something about the prospect of being naked in front of the other man, but the way Carlos slowly unbuttoned his jeans and looked at him was almost too intimate; too private.

Carlos started pulling his jeans down and tapped on his right leg and then on his left, disposing the trousers somewhere behind him. His palms slowly ran upwards, only squeezing the meat over his knee. Lando shut his eyes, diving into the incomparable feeling of being touched by Carlos. He was on fire. Up in flames.

But Carlos had stopped.

“What happened?” Lando asked him, lowering his gaze to find Carlos gazing at his leg. “Do I have something?” he curiously looked himself.

“Lando-” Carlos breathed out heavily. “What-what is this?” he asked.

Lando furrowed his eyebrows in utter puzzlement and crouched a bit to find out himself.

“That?” he pointed to his mark. “That’s my soulmate mark. I know it looks like lightning hit me, but it’s a soulmate mark.” he chuckled momentarily.

His scar was intricate. Inside his head, he always called it beautiful because he hadn’t seen anything like it before. It was in a convenient location, not visible for just anyone, it was intricate and very unique. Hard to miss. Its branches were small and white and all over the place, but perfectly cohesive and aesthetically pleasing.

“Carlos?” he called for him again, getting antsy.

He reached for his jaw, getting frustrated and when finally Carlos looked up, Lando parted his lips in surprise. A single tear had left Carlos’s left eye.

“What happened? Are you okay? What is it?” Lando asked, lowering himself on his knees too.

“L-Lando,” Carlos panted. “T-enemos-tenemos la misma m-marca.”

“What? Carlos! In English. Hell.” Lando tightened his grip on his jaw.

Carlos pushed his hand away then and jumped up, pulling on his waistband with trembling hands.

Lando fully, really, exaggeratedly gasped.

That was it. That was the mark.

On Carlos’s right thigh, mirroring his own perfectly. He reached for it, he crawled forward, reaching for the scar and when his thumb brushed through it they both groaned. Lando felt a jolt, a /lightning/, exactly as his mum had explained. As his brother had explained.

“Bloody hell. B-bloody hell.” he stuttered. “Is it the same?” he raised his gaze to Carlos.

The Spaniard only nodded, his turn then to wipe Lando’s tear away.

“Carlos, this is insane. This is mad.” he sobbed, letting his head fall on Carlos’s abdomen.

“This can’t be. Can it?” he heard Carlos asking in a pained voice.

“I don’t know, Carlos.” Lando mumbled on his skin. “Can I see?” he asked.

Carlos pulled on his curls, literally urging him to see again, make sure that it wasn’t false.

Lando ran his fingers on the scar again, making Carlos shiver to the mere movement.

“Shite…” Lando whispered, recognising every little branch and line. He leaned forward, gripping Carlos’s knee to hold himself and touched the spot with his lips.

It was.

It was the mark. The moment his lips touched the scarred skin, his heart stopped beating. It skipped a few beats, making him lose his breath, mind go up in chaos.

Carlos couldn’t hold himself up, he lowered down, carrying himself on his knees and immediately taking ahold of Lando.

“Mi amor,” he said and looked at him through beautiful, glossy eyes, full of tears and surprise. “This-this can’t be.” he said, kissing him stupid.

Lando gripped the sheet into his fist and let out a harsh moan. He opened his eyes and found Carlos looking at him with rough eyebrows.

“Carlos, I’m-I’m- going to c-”

“Por favor, mi amor.” he urged him.

And yes. Yeah, Carlos was his soulmate.

Fireworks were meaningless in front of the feeling he felt the moment of completion.

When finally Carlos laid next to him, panting and struggling for breath, Lando could see clearly then. It had always been Carlos.

Budapest was a figurative tragedy. The car updates were good but the heat was impossible to handle. His FP was oddly bad and he chose to relax in the hospitality, going through his phone with no purpose at all.

“Hola! Lando?” a familiar voice made his core shiver. A few moments later, Carlos appeared, holding two bottles of water. “Here amor.” he said lowly and plopped down next to him.

It had been a weird, quick change that none of them had to work hard for. Fate had done so and they had no problem going with it.

“So, what are you doing after Spa?” he asked him. “Any plans?”

“Oh, Max is pestering me to go to Mykonos.

Carlos pursed his lips, nodding.

“We could go. Although, I would prefer something more private. But if you want to go, we’ll go.” he said.

Lando squinted.

“You want to go?” he asked him.

“What do you mean?”

“With me?”

“Are you joking, cabrón?” Carlos asked him confused.

“I didn’t want to assume-”

“You should always assume.” Carlos cut him off. “You’re my soul. I want to be with you all the time.” he simply stated.

Lando felt his breath hitching. His heartbeat ascending and his eyes watering, all at once.

Carlos must have felt all of those things and he quickly took ahold of his hand, having no care in the world about anything.

“Mi alma…We’re each other’s, no?” Carlos whispered.

Lando nodded, sniffing. He wiped a stubborn tear with his other knuckle and coughed.

“Don’t be so cheesy, Carlos.” he mumbled.

Carlos laughed loudly then.

100 notes · View notes

poltergeist-coffee · 8 months

Text

Q!SLIMERIANA RADIO SHOW HOST ADDITION!! (brainrotted and created with @vertical-suns <33)

Basically slime and mariana both work at separate radio show stations (or wherever you call them) and they have a rivalry with each other. It’s because they both air around the same time (both shows are popular in their own right and have fans/listeners of their own!!)

despite this slime and mariana are the way they are and started talking shit about each other live. No ones sure who started it or when but its a thing now and its everyones problem

mariana (in spanish): have you seen this charlie guy?? he’s so muscular he’s so fucking sexy-

slime, reacting on his show: HOLD ME BACK WHATS HE SAYING ABOUT ME WHATS HE SAYING

slime will 100% listen to and react to whatever mariana is talking about when he’s live like hello sir?? what are you doing?? aren’t you suppose to play music?? or talk about the news?? what is this?? (it’s fine i feel like regular listeners live for the drama) (it’s free entertainment). no i don’t think slime knows what mariana is talking about half the time and i don’t think that woudl stop him either. slime spends company time thinking about mariana and sometimes that’s just how it’s gonna be

Wilbur and Slime work at the same studio and wilbur use to have a segment but it got cut because he became a touring musician so he doesn't have time to go on air anymore. He still goes on sometimes as a special guest and to answer calls/questions but its not common

He and slime are best friends tho which means wilbur is subjected to whenever slime decided to go on hour long rants about mariana

Roier and Mariana also work at the same radio station but roier actually does a segment regularly!! he takes callers and it’s like a giving advice/self help thing. he answers calls like “ayy whats your problem today?” Its psychologoier, it’s free therapy, it’s not great but it is interesting so at least there’s that?

sometimes roier helps run mariana’s show like behind the scenes (like if mariana’s producer isn’t here or something else) (he just tells him the things to prepare to say, what’s coming next, when to do certain things, shit like that.)

anyways a special thing that happens on mariana’s radio is that usually once a week for the entire segment of time he has he’ll just answer calls and talk about stuff or give advice which is a 50/50 on being useful or being a joke. yes he gets flirted with on air, yes almost every caller wants him its okay

One time Slime for fun calls in and then it’s just them arguing live on air for like idk 10 minutes MKNAJHFIJW they’re 50% arguing and 50% saying innuendos and the most absurd shit you will ever hear

mariana’s mic got cut off 5 minutes in and they played music until he got off the phone with slime but Slime happened to be live during the call so anyone on his show could hear the entire thing

slime probably stop talkign all togther at one point just to hear whatever insane shit was coming out of mariana’s mouth and he’s going to be thinking about it days to come. slime ends his show a bit after and lays down in the studio flushed entirely and staring blankly at a wall. eventually he looks up and the first thing out of his mouth that he says to wilbur is “i want to have sexo with mariana” wilbur burst into laughter

slime: no i’m not joking stop laughing i’m being serious

wilbur: so am i, i don’t want to hear about how much you want mariana

slime: WILBUR PLEASE SHES SO FUCKIGN HOT

wilbur: YOU HATED HER BEFORE THAT PHONE CALL

slime: THAT WAS IN THE PAST! THINGS CHANGE!!!

#⁉️ misc aus #slimeriana #fliporiana #new au just dropped because two (2) people showed interest in it #anyways this is super silly hope u enjoy #if u got thoughts please share them with me :3c #alternatively if you want MORE also ask me about it because there is so much more stuff we talked about lmao #i’ll brainrot regardless if people ask or not but when poeple ask i’ll spill the beans lol #do you understand what i mean when i said this was so silly and unserious because it is and i love it personally

104 notes · View notes

lifmera · 2 months

Note

Hello!! I came across your blog and its so adorable!! I love the aesthetic sm <333

I was wondering if I could possibly have a hazbin hotel matchup if you weren't too busy :)

So uhhh here's a tiny bit about me :)

my pronouns are she/her im demisexual/demiromantic

my personality type is INFP

i love drawing/writing and creating things in general. I tend to hyperfixate quite easily on things accidentally.

I play the violin quite often and I take a martial arts class :)

My favorite color is purple and black and some things i like to do in my free time is just binge watch things or read books. I tend to be quite stubborn on things and don't change my opinion easily this and I also tend to be quite hot-headed at times. I also like listening to music. My friends also say that I'm kinda intimidating from far away but once you get to know me they feel embarrassed that they ever thought i was so :D

Im kinda in between a golden retriever and a black cat in terms of personality ig :)

as for alignment its somewhere in between true neutral and chaotic good if that says anything-

I'm generally a kind person but if someone makes me mad then i kinda am a bitch in a sense but quietly, stuff like ignoring them and whatnot.

My sign is Leo and I'm 5'4 I really like animals especially dogs or cats :)

uhhh here's some more stuff im interested in :D

video games, books, args, theories, greek mythology, minecraft, and i also like just creating aesthetic things like moodboards and whatnot.

I tend to ramble on and get off track at times especially when I'm really into a topic (its the hyperfixation-). I also tend to overthink things because of this. I'm also lowkey obsessed with my grades... yeah idk why-

I'm fine with some touch and stuff but I get uncomfortable with hugs and stuff along with holding hands for too long. I like the more shoulder touching side hugging bits of physical touch more. I'd say my love language would probably be gifts and words of affirmation too :)

I hope this was enough info and sorry if its too much lol :)

AWW THANK YOU HUN!!

I think Emily would fit too- but..

I’ve decided to pair you with… ROSIE!!

SHE WOULD LOVE TO HEAR ABOUT THINGS YOU HYPERFIX ABOUT!

She def wants you to draw or write her stuff. Esp speeches for the rest of cannibal town!

She’d the think the violin is BEAUTIFUL. Begs you to play it often.

She’d love that you can defend yourself! Esp against the rest pf the cannibals if they tried to get too close..

Rosie isn’t really a fighter type. I don’t think you guys would disagree often! She’d love to listen and hear what you are thinking.

She definitely likes that you can look intimidating from far! It’ll help people stay away if they wanted to hurt you! But she also loves that you are a sweetheart. She’d LOVE to be with you!!

If you ever got mad at her, she’d be super upset, and buy you a TON of stuff to try to make up for it.

Rosie honestly would love animals too! You guys would adopt a puppy and a kitty.

She’d ask you to make her a mood board, or make her in videogames!! Definitely would ask you to make her in stuff !

She’d love someone with a golden retriever personality!! She has one too :)

Rosie tends to like older music- but i think she’d losten to whatever you liked to get closer !!

Personally i think she’s be super interested in hearing out greek mythology!

She’d support your grades no matter what! She definitely does not want you to become a burn out though.

I think rosie wouldn’t be very touchy either. I think she’d enjoy quality time and acts of service! In a giving way. She’d love to brew tea and sit and chat with you!

~~~~~

hopefully that was okay!

31 notes · View notes

ohbutwheresyourheart · 1 month

Text

I have far too many half-written things in my google docs that have never seen the light of day, so I've decided to start buffing up the best ones and posting them unfinished. Maybe I'll come back to them later, or if not at least someone will hopefully enjoy reading them as they are.

First up: fragments from a WIP based on the concept that Eva did not actually die when the twins were children; instead, she got caught in the magic field of a Geryon and sling-shotted to the middle of Devil May Cry 5. What I wrote revolved more around the aftermath, and Eva trying to come to terms with the modern world, her losses, and not knowing what happened to her sons.

The building is echoing once the buffer of trash is removed. High ceilings dissipating into shadowy un-shapes. Dark corners shifting like predators turning and twisting. It’s too like the manor in those early days before she tamed it as Sparda had; made it respect her for all she was a mortal woman.

Made it respect her because she was a mortal woman.

She feels so tired, though; too tired to start a fresh war. So Eva lives with the shadows and whatever they may hide. At least it’s not outwardly hostile. Even if it was, by rights she shouldn’t be comfortable here.

This domain, this world, empty of her sons.

----

Swollen and fragile all at once, like a wine glass held too long in hot water - ripe for shattering with a single thoughtless move.

Midmorning is an inauspicious time for any demon to appear; Eva uses the reprieve to walk the city streets. Capulet is smaller than Red Grave but still a decent-sized city in its own right, checking off all the requirements: university, libraries, museums, churches, arts district, cheerful cafes dotting the sidewalk…

A few months ago -- no, thirty years ago -- she would have delighted in browsing the art supplies store, or checking the museum events for child-friendly exhibitions (but boys you must behave), or laughing into her coffee as two eight year olds descended into extensive debate on the merits of chocolate cake over strawberry tarts.

Now she buys peppermint tea in a to-go cup and takes it to the park.

Capulet is unexpectedly windswept in August, errant breezes stirring up the parched over-long grass around her ankles and pulling her hair, strand by strand, out of the confines of her ponytail.

The park is quietish; the younger children are out in force but a university city never really feels alive during the summer while the students are away. She follows the winding gravel path towards the duck pond at the centre and circles it once, twice. Watches other mothers with children tossing breadcrumbs to the ducks; running; playing.

“Why don’t you go and play, boys? Just--”

“Be careful, I know.” Vergil’s eyes, already so much older than they should be. “Why even try when we have to pretend?”

She’d never come up with a good enough answer for him.

Trish finds her on a bench. She sits down without ceremony or preamble, sunglasses her one concession to the summer day but otherwise as unaffected by the August sun as she no doubt will be by the coming autumn chill.

(Eva is rapidly coming to dislike Trish. Not because she is a demon, per se, but because it’s so fucking demoralising to constantly see the perfect version of herself; an Eva who will never succumb to sagging tits or a bloated stomach or even messy hair.)

“Are you all right? You’re sitting there like a ghost.”

Eva sips her tea to save herself from an immediate response. The cup is almost empty and the dregs are cold; she doesn’t remember drinking it.

“I’m fine.”

“Mm.” Trish doesn’t look as though she believes Eva in the slightest, but thankfully doesn’t push the issue. “Well, in that case, I have a favour to ask.”

“Oh?” Eva becomes instantly wary. Even as despondent as she feels, she knows better than to thoughtlessly promise a demon anything.

Something flashes in Trish’s eyes, gone too quickly for Eva to define it. The slow smile that curls the corners of her lips is equally inscrutable.

“Don’t worry, it’s not a favour for me, exactly,” she assures her, waving a perfectly manicured hand (again that familiar burst of jealousy towards a creature that could control their human physical appearance at will; Sparda had never had a bad hair day in his life--). “Lady heard you’re quite the dab hand with magic and she wanted to know if there were any goodies you could make for her, or teach her, or… whatever, really.”

“Last I saw, Lady has a tongue in her head,” Eva replies coolly.

Trish’s smile widens. “Oh, she does, but she’s out of town this week and when I saw you I thought I might as well ask now as later.”

“Mm.” Now it’s Eva’s turn to give Trish a searching look. She taps her nails (not perfectly manicured by any definition of the term) against her empty cup, wishing there was some left; she could make use of a timely pause to sip her tea and give herself a moment to think. “Well, I’m happy to talk to Lady about what she needs when she’s back in Capulet.”

“I’ll pass the message on.” With one flowing, elegant movement, Trish gets to her feet and stretches like a languid cat. “I’d better get going. See you around, Eva.”

“Yes, see you,” Eva mutters to her back; Trish is already going, sashaying through the park like she owns the place.

Something about this doesn’t smell right and Eva has sense enough to be cautious.

And yet… When she returns to Devil May Cry, she spends time going through the cupboards she’s restocked and checking her herbs. She uses the laptop Nero and Nico set her up with and finds websites that sell the supplies she needs -- whether advertised for witchcraft or otherwise -- and prepares lists of useful tricks; things that used to give her the edge she needed to survive another night.

It might not be useful for Lady -- if, indeed, Lady even asked the question -- but it’s useful for Eva. Practically, because she can’t be too careful even now, and in the abstract; when she goes to bed that night, Eva sleeps better than she has in weeks. Her hands might be dry and her nails might be broken, but with her fingertips stained and smelling of herbs once again she almost begins to recognise herself.

----

To Eva’s palpable surprise, Lady does actually swing by Devil May Cry the following week.

“Trish told me she saw you,” Lady explains as she unholsters Kaline Ann and sets her down on the desk. “Did she tell you the kind of thing I was looking for?”

Because there is truth in this cover story that Lady and Trish have concocted between themselves. Yes, mainly they want to check on Eva, but it also never hurts for an old bitch to learn some new tricks.

And how does Eva look? Less like Trish than she used to; Eva has taken to shoving her hair up in a loose bun at the back of her head (the better, Lady assumes, to keep it out of her face now she was no longer playing lady of the manor) and has swapped her elegant black gown for a serviceable sweater and jeans. On her feet, Doc Martens. On her hands, broken nails and stained fingertips. In her eyes - fire.

“In passing.” Eva is - suspicious? Well, Lady can’t entirely blame her for still finding her feet with all of them, particularly Trish - though Trish herself had taken it as a compliment that Eva considered her enough potential trouble to be wary of.

“You’re welcome to anything I can teach you, although…” Eva’s gaze slides across and down to Kalina Ann. There is something distinctly hungry (covetous?) in her eyes. “You seem to have the offensive side pretty well covered.”

Lady grins, one firearms aficionado to another. “Give Nico a call if you want anything - you can’t beat the Goldsteins for guns and for you she’ll probably do it for free.”

That does it: the reserve cracks and Eva grins back. It is not the kind, motherly smile that Dante probably remembers. This is the smile that a tiger would give you if it could.

“Noted.” Eva pulls out a stack of books from one of the desk drawers. “Now, where do you want to start?”

It does not take long for Lady to be very, very glad she arranged this meeting. Eva is an absolute trove of knowledge. Much of it Lady already knows, and some of it is interesting but not strictly relevant -- Lady’s fighting style being much more full-on than Eva’s tactics lend themselves to -- but she still picks up plenty.

----

Nero is a dutiful, darling boy. He checks in with her, regular as clockwork, trying to disguise the anxiety in his voice. He doesn’t know how to be with her, but he tries nonetheless.

He asks her, often, to visit him in Fortuna; to meet his girlfriend and the children they have adopted. Eva demurs and lets him think she’s still putting off the inevitable label of grandmother. It’s not a total lie, but it’s far from the primary reason. Maybe, perceptive as he is (and he is; Sparda’s eyes staring at her, seeing straight through her despite the un-Sparda-ish mouthing off), he knows that, too, and is giving her time.

It’s just… what if they come back, and she isn’t here to greet them? What if they think she’s truly gone again? She can’t hurt her boys like that a second time. She can’t let them down again when they look for her, reach for her. God knows she was worth fuck-all to them then and even less now, as much protection as a paper cut-out, but if they know she’s willing to put herself between the two of them and danger, then… that’s something, isn’t it? However little, it’s something.

The latest attempt comes on a late autumn evening. October is slipping away, each dark evening bringing them a little closer to Halloween. The most enterprising of the local children have already ventured out trick-or-treating with the excuse that the 31st is a school night, and Eva watches troupes of ghosties and ghoulies and long-legged beasties parade past the windows with a bittersweet smile. She bought a bag of candy but doesn’t really expect any trick-or-treaters; Dante, with good reason, didn’t take pains to encourage the local kids to come calling.

Nero and Nico pull up, a welcome interruption to her descent into melancholy, out of breath but radiant from their latest skirmish. They stop by Devil May Cry on the pretence of leaving word for Morrison that payment is due, but Nero could do that himself on the little computer phone he carries around with him. In reality, they’re checking on her.

Eva doesn’t mind, really. She likes the company, and the kids (God, she calls them kids, they’re not that much younger than she is) are energetic; it’s hard to be actively maudlin when refereeing a shouting match. Nico especially is nosy and almost impossible to brush off or offend. On every visit, she wheedles a few more secrets out of Eva’s recipe books. Lately, Eva has been amusing herself by giving her tidbits and letting Nico reverse-engineer either the process or the product. Usually, she gets it right. Occasionally, she comes up with something better.

Tonight, though, Eva feels even harder to cheer than normal. Nico is put off by a wad of cash to get takeout -- Sparda laid the bounty of the world at her feet, but Nero and Nico are giving her a world tour laden with grease -- leaving Eva and Nero alone for half an hour. Nero has unchecked notebook privileges, as long as he’s careful with them, and he flicks through the entries thoughtfully.

“How did you learn all this stuff in the first place?”

“It depends which stuff we’re talking about.” Eva leans over his shoulder, pointing to the pages. “Sparda gave me a lot of them; things he’d picked up over the years, I don’t even know where from. But this one -- here -- that was from a hunter I partnered up with a lot in the early days. These tisanes were from my aunt. I used to say she should have been born a mediaeval herb-woman, except they’d have hung her for a witch.”

But Nero has stopped looking at the pages. He’s looking at her instead; thoughtful, in a way that is so Vergil it makes her heart skip a beat.

“What were they like, your family?”

“My family...” How long has it been since family wasn’t Sparda and the boys? How much longer since it meant the house she grew up in, and the people who populated it? “Oh, they -- they’re long gone. Better not to dwell. I have the boys,” Except she doesn’t. “And you, of course.”

Nero isn’t diverted, not for a moment, and the tilt of his eyebrows is pure Vergil. But he lets it go for now.

They taper off into silence. It lasts for a few minutes, Eva turning over possibilities in her mind. The words, when they come, are nevertheless a surprise; something she hadn’t meant to let loose.

“My father was a twin,” she says abruptly. “He and my uncle were thick as thieves. I always used to hope I’d have twins -- they say it skips a generation, so I thought it was likely I would -- and then they’d both always have a friend.”

She lets out a hollow little laugh. A friend. What a fucking fairytale.

Where did she go so wrong? Yes, the boys had always had their spats, but Eva had chalked that up to a mixture of their demonic blood and the marked differences in their personalities, watchful but not truly worried. She tried to encourage them to get along, to talk out their problems, but had also comforted herself that it was something they would grow out of as they got older and developed a bit more emotional maturity. Siblings fought; it was perfectly normal. Even she and Elijah--

Eva squeezes her eyes closed. She can’t think about Elijah right now.

A warm, calloused hand covers her own and Eva opens her eyes to see Nero watching her, his expression unusually serious.

“It’s not your fault,” he tells her, quietly but with a forceful conviction behind his words that reminds her of Sparda. “Yeah, they’re idiots, and they’re both kind of fucked up in their own ways, but it’s not your fault. They’d be a lot worse if it hadn’t been for you.”

Is that true? Eva isn’t sure which is worse; that she has ruined her boys, or that they would somehow be even worse without her.

But none of this is Nero’s problem. Grandson, she reminds herself once again. Grandson. Not a peer, not a comrade to lean on. A young man she needs to protect.

Pull yourself together, Eva.

----

Eventually, Eva gets sick of sitting around Devil May Cry waiting for something to happen.

She has never been a passive person. Eva makes things happen. Ever since Lady asked for some tricks to help her on hunts, Eva has been building up her supplies again. Restocking her herbs, potions, and powders. Dusting off Dante’s collection of magic books (a surprisingly comprehensive collection; Vergil had always been the bookworm, while Dante was too much of a fidget-bottom to sit still for five minutes) and reminding herself of her favourite cantrips. Eventually, she contracts Nico to make her a pair of guns like her old ones.

The last time Eva felt so lost, she was drowning in grief for her husband and it ended in tragedy for her sons. She will not make the same mistake twice. Reaching back through the years, breaking down the walls she had so carefully built up, she remembers how it felt to be fifteen and alone; fifteen and desperate; fifteen and unstoppable.

Then she asks Morrison for some work.

As a young woman trying to break into this line of work, Eva had gotten used to the looks she elicited from these “brokers”. The initial amusement, thinking she’s joking. The surprise when they realise she isn’t. The patronising shake of the head as they assure her this is no work for a pretty little lady like her. Finally, the shock and anger as they hastily reconsidered their position with a gun jammed up against their throats.

Over time, she’d gotten a reputation for being an infernal bitch who was extremely good at what she did, which meant the work came easier. Eventually, by the time she met Sparda, she’d been running her own jobs without a broker at all - unless they were coming to her for a favour.

But that was then. Now she’s back to square one. Unproved. Untried. Untested. It’s aggravating but Eva knows she’ll have to just deal with it if she wants an in.

Because Eva is pretty sure she can talk Morrison into kicking a few jobs her way. Asking Lady, or Nero, or Trish to share, though? It will all be there - amusement, surprise, disbelief - and the worst thing of all is that they will be speaking not from baseless stereotyping but all too real knowledge.

Dante told us all about it, Eva. You barely lasted a minute when the demons attacked, isn’t that right? This is way too much for you.

No. She will work until she has beaten the softness out of herself. Until she can go back to them on an even footing. Until it’s second nature once again to have gunpowder on her clothes and the spark of magic at her fingertips. Until the Underworld has learned to fear Sparda’s whore again.

Then she will get their respect, rather than their pity.

Morrison drops by periodically for coffee and a chat. There hasn’t been any money-grubbing yet; Dante owns the office outright - Eva has seen the deed and it’s real enough - and the bills are being paid out of his last earnings. It won’t last forever, but it’s been enough to take one worry off Eva’s mind so far.

Instead, Morrison seems to simply enjoy her company, or maybe he just can’t kick the habit of showing up at Devil May Cry to see Dante. Whatever the reason, Eva enjoys his visits and his dry humour. What Morrison makes of her, she’s not sure; Eva had told him, in a tone that made it clear she was lying, that she was Trish’s long-lost sister. Morrison had simply chuckled and refrained from asking any questions.

That’s one thing Eva always did like about brokers; they’re the kind of people who don’t ask difficult, unnecessary questions.

“You’ve got this place looking real good, Eva.” Morrison looks around with genuine admiration and gestures with his lit cigarette to the spider plant growing ever larger in the corner. “Way better than Dante ever did. Mother of God, the state I’ve seen this office in… well. Maybe best not to elaborate too much there.”

Eva laughs, remembering how Dante always tried his best to weasel out of his chores. Even getting him to make his bed was a challenge. It seems he hasn’t improved with age.

“It’s certainly been quite the project. But, now that it’s done, I’ve been thinking I need something else to do.” Eva watches Morrison carefully, waiting for his reaction. “Do you have any work for me?”

Morrison smirks. “Getting bored already? Yeah, I got a few things on the back burner - the kind of stuff the other ladies think they’re too good for, if you catch my drift, and the kid really has got his hands full.”

...Okay, that was absurdly easy. Eva narrows her eyes, but Morrison doesn’t look like he’s trying to mock her. On the contrary, when he sees her expression, he holds his hands up in mock surrender.

“Hey, I don’t control the work that comes in! Besides, pay is pay, am I right?”

“I’m looking for hunting work,” Eva says pointedly, wondering if he’s mistaken her meaning.

“Yeah, yeah, I got you.” Morrison chuckles as he takes a drag on his cigarette. “What, were you expecting me to say no? If nobody will do the work, I won't get paid either.”

“I…” Eva is floored. All of her preparation, all that time spent rehearsing her arguments, and it turns out she doesn’t need any of them. “I was expecting, uh…”

“Pushback?” Morrison gives her a knowing look. “Do you really think I’d have lasted this long with those ladies if I trotted out that kind of line? As far as I’m concerned, if you hang around with Dante, Lady, and Trish, then you know what you’re doing and you can take care of yourself.”

Morrison pulls a notebook out of his pocket and rifles through it, humming under his breath. He tears out a page and walks over to lay it on Eva’s desk.

“Here are the details. Just give me a call when you’re done with them and I’ll arrange your payment. Damages come out of your cut, mind you. If everything goes well, I’ll see what else I have for you.”

----

It really is grunt work, but Eva doesn’t mind; she’s not arrogant enough to think she could jump single-handedly into something like Red Grave, guns blazing.

The job also isn't urgent - hence Morrison being lackadaisical about bullying someone into taking it - which gives her the leisure of reconnaissance and planning time.

An empusa nest out on some waste ground that a local developer bought before noticing his unexpected squatters. Straightforward enough, although Eva takes more precautions than she thinks are necessary just in case. After all, she’s seen her judgement is far from perfect.

But in the end, all goes smoothly. No nasty surprises. Just some nasty stains on the concrete from empusas blown to kingdom come. Eva grimaces at them, hoping they don’t count as “damages”. The land is being developed anyway, right? Surely they’ll be putting down fresh tarmac?

In the end, Morrison does take a cut from her pay, but it’s less than she feared and so Eva swallows it with as much good grace as she can muster. The stack of notes is a reassuring weight in her hand. Ballast, though for (or against) what, she’s not entirely sure. The important thing is that she’s done a competent enough job that Morrison leaves her with the details of another couple of jobs. In this way a reputation is built.

“Morrison,” Eva calls out just before he leaves.

Morrison pauses on the threshold. There’s a beat before he looks back at her over his shoulder and Eva gets the impression he knows exactly what she’s about to ask.

“Do you think he’s coming back?”

Because Morrison is not Trish, or Lady, or Nero. He does not know her connection to these people. To Dante. So he has no reason to lie to her or spare her feelings.

He sucks in a breath, considering. “You know, I’d gotten to the point where I never thought I’d see anything Dante didn’t come back from. So many times I thought he was in way over his head, only for him to walk away laughing. But this job… this felt different from the start. Gave me a sort of -- premonition, you might say.”

A soft hum; something that might have been a laugh, if there was any humour in it, and Morrison shook his head.

“The truth is, Eva, I don’t know. I really don’t. He could come waltzing back in here tomorrow, carrying a pizza and laughing at us all for ever doubting him. Or we might never see him again.”

Eva sinks slowly into the desk chair, feeling the truth of it in her bones. A tidal wave of exhaustion crashes over her, threatening to drown her in one clean swoop. Tired of worry. Tired of uncertainty. Tired of never even having the cold comfort of a body to bury. Tired of that tiny speck of hope that even now refused to be snuffed out completely because, however ridiculous it was to expect it, there was still the chance--

“I knew someone else like that, once,” she hears herself say. “He never did come back.”

Morrison gives her a searching look. He seems, for a moment, to be on the verge of saying something more, but in the end refrains. Instead, he tips his hat to her.

“You take care, Eva.”

“Yeah,” Eva replies distantly. “You too, Morrison.”

----

The work is important for more than Eva’s ego.

Her blood sings in her veins once again. The hum of power at her fingertips, like the whine of electricity. A promise, maybe even a vow if you were so inclined to call it such, that one day in the none-too-distant future a small slice of the world would once again turn at Eva’s call and beckoning. She has known this once before when playing lady of the manor. Now, the power is both weaker, for lack of Sparda’s force bolstering her, and sweeter, for knowing it is all of her own clawing and devising.

Her blood sings and Eva tastes iron and lightning on her tongue. Her fingers smell of metal and herbs and something no mortal can rightly put words to; the tang of the Underworld and the burning sulphur of demons.

When Eva looks at her reflection in the chipped bathroom mirror and sees an old, familiar light in her eyes, she knows it is time.

Very little magic needs to be complicated. The point is will, and the directing of it. For those unfamiliar with the craft then the trimmings of rituals and candles can go a long way in finding that direction.

For those who live long enough to become old hands, just the thinking, coupled with the right runes, is enough. Eva takes a sharp knife, a handful of herbs, and a silver-backed mirror (in this, old ways are better; a mercury mirror would work better still, but this will do for now)... and she searches.

Blood of my blood, flesh of my flesh, soul of my soul, I seek thee now. Come to me, come to me, come to me…

It is a powerful spell. Kinfinding may not be enough to physically draw her boys forth from the Underworld, but it should at least show them to her in the scrying mirror.

Eva seeks until her blood runs dangerously thin and her head pounds and her vision begins to darken. She seeks further still until she knows herself at the very precipice of what she can safely come back from… and only then, with great reluctance, does she let the spell go.

She has not seen them, either of them, even once.

----

Eventually, it feels meaningless to even keep up the pretence she thinks the boys are coming back.

What has happened to them is almost immaterial. The nightmare scenarios are so numerous that eventually they blur together into one long snuff film that leaves her numb. Like Sparda, they were there and then they were not. Like Sparda, she will never know what exactly happened.

Devil May Cry becomes part tomb, part cocoon. She has saved enough money to keep Morrison at bay for a while even after Dante’s funds run out, and she continues to take work for the sake of it, though she doesn’t keep track of her income versus expenditures. If or when the money runs out, she’s not sure. It’s pointless to think so far ahead. Perhaps she’ll just die, like she should have before.

A wife without a husband. A mother without sons. Once, she would have vomited at the thought of a woman identifying herself by the men in her life, but somehow it crept up on her over the years and now she’s left with gaping, bloody holes that gung-ho feminist rhetoric does nothing to paste over.

Nobody seems to notice the change in her philosophy. Though, she gets precious few visitors anyway. Trish and Lady leave her to her own devices, having apparently satisfied their curiosity about her. Morrison has tapered off their tete-a-tetes and only shows up when he wants money. Nero is a busy boy these days.

One night she dreams about them. The dream is very similar to the ones she used to have about Sparda; lifelike, almost lucid dreaming, where everything was the same - she is in bed, having just awoken - except he is there, smiling gently, brushing her hair out of her eyes.

Sleeping in, Eva?

Dreaming about the boys is very similar. She dreams she awakens in the night to a sound downstairs. There is no panic of a break-in; nobody bothers her these days. Voices, muffled, from the floor below. Eva calmly gets out of bed, registering even the rustle of the sheets and the cold, bare wooden boards under her feet. She pads slowly out of the bedroom to the top of the stairs.

There they are, standing in the centre of the office, illuminated perfectly by a strip of moonlight through the window. It is like a picture. It is too perfect and too easy. This is how she knows she is dreaming.

Still, for the first time in months, her heart eases.

They are talking softly to each other, too softly for her to catch the words (there is a limit, she concedes, to just how much even her vivid imagination can conjure). Eva doesn’t mind. She stands at the mezzanine and soaks them in.

Dante gestures to the stairs and looks up. He freezes as their eyes meet. Vergil, a half-heartbeat behind his twin, mirrors him.

“...Hey,” Dante croaks, the gesturing hand that had fallen still now awkwardly waving. “We’re home!”

This is more than she expected. Eva’s throat constricts. Even her dreams of Sparda were not so vivid or so long.

“You’re late, boys,” she manages after a moment. “Dinner was hours ago.”

She is trying for levity, trying to play her part in this scene, trying to piece together something happy for when she wakes up, but her voice cracks halfway through the sentence and she finds herself choking on a sob.

Dante is halfway up the stairs in a moment, hand outstretched to her. Eva, too, is reaching out to her little boy and she cries out when she finally has her arms around him again.

She does not get even a heartbeat of joy before the world collapses into shadows and flames. Dante dissolves, her arms closing around thin air, and the staircase morphs into an endless corridor to hell. Her boys are nowhere to be seen, but she can hear them screaming.

Or maybe she just hears her own voice, screaming herself awake.

There are more dreams, afterwards; more recognisable for what they are. Her life runs before her eyes in reverse. Searching for the boys. Watching Sparda walk away for the last time. The face of every person she never saved. Then, at last, the denouement: Elijah, torn open. Her father and uncle staring sightless into an abyss. Her mother reduced to so many scattered chunks of meat.

Eventually, because Eva is someone who makes things happen, not someone things simply happen to, she makes the decision to go back. She has faced Red Grave; faced the ruined manor. It is time to face much older ghosts.

It is a private matter, and so Eva tells nobody of her intentions. She lets Morrison know she will be out of town on personal business, timeline uncertain; she will give him a call when she’s back. He is free, in the interim, to pass her usual work on to other sources.

For anyone else (because she still hopes, deep down, that her boys will one day come home), she leaves a note on her desk.

Out of town for a while.

Eva re-reads the brief scribble and wonders what else to add before realising there really is nothing more to add. No forwarding address or contact number, because she does not want anyone to find her. Anyone who wants her, can wait until she comes back.

She makes it ten minutes out from the city before she turns back to scribble an address at the bottom of her note.

Just in case.

----

Plane tickets are cheap these days, and she has a passport courtesy of Morrison, but Eva elects to drive. Call her old-fashioned, or even just plain curmudgeonly in her old age (ha), but Eva likes the hum of a good motor much better than the press of noisy crowds.

Besides, she’d need a car at the other end of the flight anyway, where she’s going. She can even call it a vacation if she finds a motel to spend each night in. If not -- she’s slept in a car before and it won’t kill her to do it again, especially when the rental is much more comfortable than any old banger she’s passed a night in before.

Highways turn to country lanes as she veers further and further off the beaten track. The temperature drops, too; winter in the shadow of the Appalachian mountains is nothing to sneeze at. Eva has forgotten a lot of things over the years (too many things), but she remembers that. Funny how events and people slide slowly but surely from her mind but sensory impressions remain: the icy, pinesap-tinged tang of morning air in winter; the crackle of a fire; the warm doughy smell and pillowy softness of homemade dinner rolls.

Become someone else, she’d told her younger son as their world burned around them. Change your name, change yourself, and hide. Not easy, no, nothing like easy -- but possible, for the right price. For the price of giving up who you were before.

Except no bargain is ever so neat and no transaction ever so complete.

#devil may cry #dmc #eva #dante #vergil #nero #nico #trish #lady #i have a whole headcanon backstory for eva #shocking revelation: she did not have a good time before meeting sparda!#fragments from the google docs

14 notes · View notes