#new blog will probably be a saturday ready

[jeewrites]

Hold Fast | Ch. 5 - Five Courses

Series Master List

Rating: M, but this blog is 18+ MDNI

A/N: Frankie and Sweets finally go on their date! I do not recommend reading this when you are hungry. Ty to @bloviating-vy for beta-ing and providing all the emotional support one needs for writing fanfic lol.

Word Count: ~5.6K

Tags: no y/n, alcohol, gymbff!Benny, OC!Chloé, reader is a powerlifting girlie described as short and has hair long enough to put into a ponytail, reader's nickname is Sweets, Tom is alive unfortunately (we hate Tom), Tom owns a bar, Pope owns a gym, Frankie POV, kissing, making out, gratuitous descriptions of food, Sweets eats like a powerlifter, angst that resolves by the end of the chapter, discussion of previous relationships, implied past abusive relationship (not described), cliffhanger-ish?

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After you leave on Sunday, Frankie spends the rest of the weekend scouring the internet for the latest, fanciest restaurants in the greater metropolitan area. He's determined to make up for canceling on you at the last minute and go all out for you after everything you've done to care for Gabi and him. Tucking into another bowl of your magical chicken noodle soup, Frankie sighs at his laptop after clicking through tasting menu after 7 course menu after kaiseki menu after some weird pop-up dinner theater. Yeah, no. This isn't it.

And a small part, ok large part of him, wants to impress you, but he's at a loss as to how since he doesn't know you well enough. Surely as a doctor you are used to living the good life, dining at fancy places, right? What would not just be good enough for you, but impress you? His phone buzzes with a text from Benny in the group chat about a new PR lift and that's when an idea pops into Frankie's head. After a brief exchange with Benny he shuts his laptop and readies for bed. He has a plan.

Just as you are sitting down to scarf down your lunch later that week, your phone vibrates with a text from your favorite brown-eyed pilot.

[text conversation]

😻🐟: Hey, so what kind of food do you like? 🏋🏻‍♀️: Yes 😻🐟: ???

🏋🏻‍♀️: I have to eat so much to fuel for 🏋️‍♀️, so yeah, I like food. 🏋🏻‍♀️: 🍜🍳🥩🍔🌮🥟🍣🎂🍩🍪🍮🧁🥐🫔🍧 🏋🏻‍♀️: I don't do sandwiches though 😻🐟: Roger that 🫡

😻🐟: Be ready to eat okay? Might want to wear something stretchy. Prepare yourself. 😉 🏋🏻‍♀️: 🫡 say no more. I have the perfect outfit. 😈 😻🐟: Pick you up Saturday at 4:30? I know it's early, but trust me ok? 🏋🏻‍♀️: 💃🏻💃🏻

You spend the rest of your break smiling into your lunch wondering what Frankie has planned for Saturday. The weekend couldn't come soon enough.

On Saturday, at 4:25 PM you hear a soft knock at your front door. Swinging the door open you're greeted by an enormous arrangement of dahlias, a stunning ombre of purple, pink, and fuchsia hues, a grinning Frankie peeking from over the top.

"For you," he says with a winning smile as he hands you the arrangement.

You're speechless. You didn't think he'd remember you whispering to him, nearly three weeks ago, what your favorite flowers are. And how did he know these are your favorite colors? Chase never remembered your favorite flowers despite the years you were together. He probably gave you flowers less than five times in the entirety of your relationship.

"You remembered," you breathe, looking up at him. "Frankie, they're beautiful."

"I do my best to remember the important things," Frankie huffs, cheeks pinking at your compliment. You catch him flick his eyes over your form, biting his lower lip. "And you're prettier than the flowers. You look — wow."

It's your turn for your cheeks to heat before you invite him in for a moment while you find the best spot to place the arrangement (you decide on your dining table so you can look at it every morning while you drink your coffee). The dahlias are arranged like a piece of art, exploding with color against the drab colors of your apartment. You could look at them all day.

"Sooo, where are we going this early?" you venture, finally taking your eyes off of the flowers and running your eyes over Frankie, admiring the way the navy button down shirt stretches deliciously across his broad chest and the khakis he's wearing hugs his hips and thighs. Curls accentuated with product. And surprisingly no hat.

"I'll tell you when we get in the truck," Frankie grins at you.

"Okay, Mr. Mysterious," you huff with a small smile as you grab your bag.

When you get to his truck he insists on opening the door for you and offering a hand as you climb in. As he settles into the driver's seat and starts the truck, he hands you a beige piece of folded card stock, printed to look like a menu. The cover reads, "Frankie's Food Truck Tour" in elegant script across the front.

You gape at him, excitement bubbling up your entire body. "You're taking me on a food truck tour?!?"

"Yup," Frankie responds, popping the 'p.' "Someone might’ve mentioned you love food trucks and hole in the wall restaurants. So I'm taking you to all the best ones I know about."

You're practically vibrating with anticipation as you open the card and gasp at the listed courses on the food tour.

Frankie's Food Truck Tour

Menu

First Course - Taco de Carnitas 🌮 Heirloom blue corn tortilla from house made masa, slow braised pork shoulder, pickled shallots, chicharrons

Second Course - Empanada Colombiana Braised beef, potato in fried corn flour crust

Third Course - Sunday Sauce with Fresh Tagliatelle 12 hour simmered ragu with fresh made tagliatelle

Fourth Course - Soup Dumplings ground pork, blue crab

Fifth Course - Gua Bao braised pork belly, pickled mustard greens, toasted crushed peanuts in steamed bun

Dessert - Italian Water Ice

You are so very glad you wore your fancy stretchy clothes because this is a veritable feast of all of your favorite things. You weren't joking when you told Frankie you liked to eat. Plus today's SBD day was max effort sets, so you are ready to inhale some food. But you are also so moved by his thoughtfulness, planning such a creative first date. Who told him about your love of food trucks and hole in the wall spots?

As Frankie eases onto the main road, he swallows before asking, "Does it look okay?"

"Okay? This is amazing Frankie! It's so thoughtful." You look at him with watery eyes. "No one's done something like this for me in a long time." You might have let out a little sniffle because he's glancing at you with concern etched across his handsome face.

"Hey," he soothes, sliding a hand into yours. "It's my pleasure."

He presses a chaste kiss to the back of your hand. The gesture makes you melt inside at the sweetness. You intertwine your fingers in his, wanting to stay connected to him and you catch him smile when you do.

"Wait, so who told you I like food trucks?" you ask, curiosity getting the better of you.

"Oh uh, I — I asked Chloé," Frankie's ears reddened at his admission. "I checked with Benny to see when she usually works out at Pope's and, uh, talked to her earlier this week."

You hum in response, impressed that Frankie would voluntarily approach Chloé considering most regulars at Pope's Gym wouldn't dare. She intimidated everyone too much.

"It was weird though. Benny acted like he didn't want me to talk to her until I told him it was to plan my date with you." Frankie continues, tapping the steering wheel.

"Huh," you wonder, filing that bit of information away. "Wonder why."

Frankie shrugs as he pulls the truck into a gravel parking lot. A half circle of food trucks sit just in front of a copse of trees, surrounded by picnic tables. Several other cars pull up shortly after you arrive and a queue starts to form at one of the food trucks on the far end.

"Ready for the first course?" Frankie grins at you as he opens the passenger door.

"Born ready, Frankie," you grin at him with barely contained glee.

By the third course, you and Frankie are both completely relaxed and enjoying each other's company, allowing the conversation to ebb and flow between food truck courses.

The carnitas tacos whet your appetite, a perfect balance of succulent pork shoulder topped with crispy chicharrones. Pickled shallots cut the tender, savory bites with crisp acid that dance along your tongue. Charred tomatillo salsa rounds out the bite. All perfectly wrapped in a freshly griddled blue corn tortilla. You can't help but close your eyes and let out a small moan as you experience the first bite. A cacophony of well-balanced flavors and complementary textures. When you open them again you catch Frankie with a pleased look on his face as he takes a bite out of his own taco.

At the second stop, Frankie asks why you don't do sandwiches as you chomp into a piping hot empanada. The corn flour crust crunches with satisfaction giving way to the tender braised beef and fluffy potato filling. Steam curls from the opening of the empanada, a testament to how freshly made it is.

"I mean, why would I want something slapped between two slices of bread when I can have this?" you respond as you gesture to your half eaten empanada. "It's just as portable and tastes a billion times better."

You scoop some of the red salsa onto your empanada before continuing, "Besides, I had way more than my fair share of sandwiches and cold, sad meals during med school and residency. I want my meals to be hot as much as possible."

"But what about hot sandwiches?" Frankie presses, even though he nods in agreement.

"I'll make an exception for them if they are really tasty," you acquiesce. "And bánh mì, especially if the baguette is baked fresh in house."

"Duly noted," Frankie smiles, taking mental note of your preferences.

"Oh my god, you have to try this salsa," you moan after you finish your salsa covered bite of empanada. The acid from the tomato cuts through the richness of the filling, followed by sharp bites from the minced white onion, finished by a hint of sweetness — maybe from pineapple?

"Wait, don't tell me you're a fan of sandwiches."

Frankie looks slightly embarrassed when he admits he eats most of his meals standing over the kitchen sink, especially when he has Gabi, but the food is usually at least hot. "I do love cooking meals for Gabi and introducing her to all of our family's foods," he adds. "She's a really adventurous eater."

You perk up at his information. "Yeah? That's so awesome Frankie. Maybe I can make her some of my family's favorites sometime?"

He gives you the sweetest look of adoration and gratitude. "She'd love that. I — I would too."

You continue to chat with Frankie about how Gabi is doing since you last saw her as he tidies up the picnic table, and you both head to his truck for the next course.

When Frankie pulls up at the third food truck, you giggle and remark at the kitschy decor, multi-color string lights, barrels painted the colors of the Italian flag, red umbrellas shading long wooden picnic tables and smaller red metal patio tables for two. The food truck itself is a long white truck reminiscent of an old milk delivery truck. Short velvet red curtains frame the ordering window with a mismatched gallery wall of photos and paintings hanging along the side.

As you and Frankie sit at a cute red patio table sharing a sangria, waiting for the buzzer to go off to retrieve your food, you hear a woman's voice call out, "Morales?! That you?"

"Hey— " Frankie stands to greet the person behind the voice before a blur of brown hair wraps him in a tight bear hug he returns awkwardly with one arm.

"Finally made it out to check out this place huh??" the brunette says as she pulls back and releases Frankie.

"Yeah, uh, thanks for the rec. This is Sweets," Frankie gestures towards you as you stand to meet her. "This is Becs. She's one of the flight nurses I work with."

"Ooh, date night?" Becs winks at Frankie as she pumps your hand up and down one too many times. "Didn't realize you were seeing anyone Morales. Gonna break all those hearts at the hospital when people find out." You offer her a wan smile, a bit overwhelmed by her chaotic energy.

"Wait! I know you," Becs cocks her head as she assesses you intently. You stiffen even if you don't recognize her. Before you know it she's dropping the name of your former employer, adding, "Yeah, I used to work as an OR nurse there, but jumped at the chance to become a flight nurse. Less surgeon egos, more excitement, ya know?" She gesticulates with fervor as she speaks.

"Yeah, uh, I worked there," you admit, realizing you've been holding your breath. "Been over a year since I left though."

She looks you over once more. Just when you think you're in the clear she snaps her fingers and exclaims, "I do know you! You were engaged to that new trauma surgeon, what's his name!"

Your heart is in your throat and you can't move. Can't breathe. Is this really happening right now? What are the chances you'd run into someone who'd recognize you from your old job right the fuck now?

"I'll never forget how you made a surgeon get on his knees so fast," she smirks. "It's not every day you see someone throw a $50k diamond ring across the cafeteria."

Really, what are the chances you'd run into someone who witnessed the moment your engagement exploded spectacularly in front of what felt like everyone at work? Over a year ago? You can't look at Frankie. This isn't how you want him to find out. Not that you were exactly hiding it from him, but wasn't this like a third date kind of conversation? What did you know, you're so out of the loop on dating things these days. Because you're old. Broken? No one's going to want you, your mother's voice hisses up from the abyss of your mind.

"Well, it's not every day you catch your fiancé cheating on you, at work," you grit out as you find your spine.

"Yeah, bummer about that." Becs waves you off. "It was hilarious watching him crawl around on his knees trying to find that ring though."

She slaps Frankie on the shoulder and says something about seeing him at work before tossing you a nice to meet you and jets off as abruptly as she appeared.

You brave a glance at Frankie, but not really seeing him with the adrenaline flooding your system. "I —"

"Sweets —"

Of course the food buzzer decides this is the most opportune moment to go off, shocking you back into yourself as it dances erratically on the metal table top flashing red like a siren. Frankie slides a hand over the buzzer and picks it up as he walks around the table to stand in front of you. With his other hand he gently cups the side of your face.

"Sweets, you don't have to explain. It's ok. Breathe."

You swallow and let out a stuttery breath as you clasp a hand over his. His hand is warm and comforting against your skin, steady unlike your heart pounding through your chest. The buzzer continues to flash red and vibrate, muted now in his other hand. When you look up, his warm brown eyes only convey care and concern at your thinly veiled panic. Full blown panic, really. You're practically shaking.

"Hey," his voice is soft like when he speaks to Gabi. "It's okay. I'm going to go grab our food and when I get back you can tell me as much or as little as you want. Whenever you're ready. Or we can just go back to talking about how much we hate sandwiches, okay?"

"I— you— okay," is all you can manage, followed by a small nod, eyes still wide with panic, even with his attempt at humor. Coherent sentences are back to being a struggle apparently.

"We all have baggage, Sweets. I mean, I have a whole ex-wife and toddler, remember?" He gives you one more understanding smile before telling you not to go anywhere as he heads to the food truck to collect your food.

How are you supposed to eat anything right now? Your heart is in your throat and your stomach is in knots. You plop down in your chair as the adrenaline recedes, replaced by a wave of dread at what to possibly say to Frankie when he returns. At some point you did plan to tell him, but what happened spans several conversations, none appropriate for a first date. You try to ground yourself in what he said before he went to retrieve the food. It's okay. He has baggage too. He's okay with you telling him what you’re ready to tell him. What the fuck are you ready to tell him?

When Frankie arrives at Pope's Gym to catch Chloé and ask for her help in dinner ideas for his date with you, he isn't prepared for Benny acting so cagey and weird.

"Hey, Benny," Frankie greets Benny at the front desk with a familiar dap of the fist.

"Fish," a rare one word response from Benny, the more loquacious of the two Miller brothers.

"She here?"

"Sweets or Chloé?" Benny asks, feigning ignorance even though Frankie literally just texted him the day before asking when Chloé usually worked out at Pope's.

"For God's sake Ben, I'm looking for Chloé." Frankie glares at Benny before rolling his eyes. "To help me plan my date with Sweets. What's gotten into you?"

"Oh. Right, yeah she's here," Benny mumbles nodding in Chloé's general direction before sulking away.

As Frankie treks over, he notes the message on her cut off shirt declaring, "I'M A RAY OF FUCKING SUNSHINE." Chloé's covered in a sheen of sweat and breathing hard as she finishes a set of medicine ball slams.

"I'm pretending this is your head," she mutters at Frankie as he approaches. "For canceling on Sweets the day of without telling her why."

Frankie decides to stop a generous distance away from Chloé. He lifts his cap and runs his fingers through his curls, a nervous tic, before replacing the cap on his head. "Yeah, um, that really was my bad. Uh, that's — that's actually why I'm here."

He swears the glare Chloé gives him could kill.

"And why should I help you." It's not a question, but a challenge.

"I want to really impress her and go all out for her this Saturday to make-up for canceling," he continues before pausing. "Especially since she took such good care of my daughter and me when Gabi got sick last week. Which is — which is why I canceled at the last minute."

Chloé gives him a non-committal grunt, brows still furrowed, but her eyes motion for him to continue.

"I thought about taking her to some of those fancy tasting menu places, but I realize I don't know what she really likes… If she'd be into that."

"I mean, who doesn't like a fancy meal once in a while?" Chloé scoffs and shifts her weight from side to side, as if she's trying to decide whether to divulge more and help Frankie out. "But Sweets isn't into the fancy shit the way she is into food trucks and hole in the wall spots. The woman is always on the hunt for the best tacos or dumplings or whatever in the area."

Frankie nods along intently to what Chloé shares and takes detailed mental notes. You truly are a woman after his own heart.

"You should see her on vacation trying to suss out the best local eats. You always know you're going to eat well with her." Chloé glares back at Frankie before concluding with a threat for good measure. "You hurt her and I'll kill you. She's — she's been through enough. She doesn't need another guy wrecking her life."

Frankie appreciates a direct woman. And the tip about some guy wrecking your life. He stores that one away along with the threat.

"I just want to go all out for her. She deserves the best," he manages. "Gonna try my hardest not to fuck it up."

"Good," Chloé resumes picking up the medicine ball and raising it overhead before slamming it down on the ground. How does someone make everything sound like a threat?

"That still my head?" Frankie ventures looking at the medicine ball.

"Depends," Chloé huffs back at him, but he thinks he catches her smirking at him for a moment. "On how well you take care of my friend."

As Frankie thanks Chloé and turns to leave, he catches Benny hiding behind the cable tower machine watching the entire interaction, pretending to wipe down the gym equipment. Benny never cleans a goddamn thing unless it is a weapon.

"You're gonna take the paint off the metal," Frankie whispers to Benny as he walks by.

"Huh?"

Frankie shoves Benny out from behind the cable tower, "See you later, Benny boy. Good luck with that," as he motions with his eyes towards Chloé.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Benny calls back after catching himself from falling on his face in front of Chloé.

Frankie just shakes his head and beelines it to his truck. He has a food truck tour to plan.

When Frankie returns with a giant pile of fresh tagliatelle smothered in Sunday sauce, your stomach turns even if ragu is one of your favorite things. He sets everything down gently as if he is afraid to spook you with any sudden movements or sounds.

"I — I wasn't trying to hide my ex-fiancé from you," you blurt out without thinking. Smooth start there, tiger. Real smooth. You worry your hands in your lap to hold back the rising waves of anxiety. "I just thought failed engagements are more like a third date kinda conversation."

"Didn't think ya were," Frankie responds as he settles back into his chair. He slides a large hand across the table beckoning for you to place one of your hands in his. After a beat you slide a hand into his. It's warm and grounding. You find your shoulders relaxing away from your ears a smidge, and your stomach settles.

"I meant it when I said you don't have to tell me anymore than you're ready to," he reassures before something you said clicks, and he beams at you. "You'd go on a third date with me?"

You can't help but offer a small grin back, "I'd let you take me on as many dates as you want if they're anything like this, Frankie."

"Minus the co-worker with the big mouth." Frankie is full of jokes. "Too soon?"

You suppress a giggle bubbling up from your throat. "I guess that means you're not going to take me home after this?"

"Not unless you want me to, Sweets," Frankie squeezes your hand. "I'm having the best time."

Your stomach rumbles at this exact moment in response and Frankie laughs, tummy shaking laughter, wondering out loud how you are still hungry after tacos and empanadas.

"I told you I like to eat!" You cross your arms in mock indignation as Frankie wipes away tears of laughter and hands you a fork.

As you both dig into the pile of pasta, marveling at the depth of flavor a 12 hour simmer gives the ragu, you take the opportunity to ask Frankie about his work as an EMS pilot. His entire body is buoyant with excitement when he talks about flying, brown eyes bright with passion. You can tell the two loves of his life are Gabi and flying by the way he speaks about both.

"The hours aren't terrible, 12 hour shifts, 4 days on and 3 days off, with a lot of waiting around. But at least I'm not getting shot at now when I fly," Frankie shares, adding how his parents help watch Gabi when he has custody and has to work. Your breath hitches at the thought of anyone shooting at sweet Frankie.

"Next stop?" he tries to change the subject when he catches your worried expression.

You nod and attempt to help clear the table, but Frankie insists you don't lift a finger.

The next two stops fly by as Frankie tells you about the owners of the soup dumpling take-out window, former cooks at some Taiwanese chain making its way into the U.S.

"Ooo yes, DTF! I've been to one of their locations before!" you exclaim.

His eyebrows curve upward in confusion, "Wait, I thought DTF meant... something else??"

"Ohmygosh, DTF — Din Tai Fung!" you cackle. "Their soup dumplings are to die for."

Frankie admits he hasn't ever eaten a soup dumpling before as you lift the lid and a cloud of savory steam erupts from the bamboo steamer basket. You offer him two options that won't involve near boiling broth burning his mouth off. After all, you have... plans for that mouth.

"Next time we have to try the pork and shrimp ones too," Frankie tells you as he opens the passenger door for you. Seeing his eyes light up after the first bite and slurp of soup dumpling, you know he is a convert for life.

At the last stop he slides an arm around your shoulders as you sit side by side on a park bench splitting one extra-large gua bao, too full to each have your own. It’s the size of your face instead of the standard appetizer size. Frankie insists you take the first bite of the pillowy soft steamed bun, a vehicle for the unctuous braised pork belly, pickled mustard greens, and toasted crushed peanuts. The umami of spiced soy sauce carries forward balanced notes of anise and cinnamon with a not too sweet caramel finish of hoisin and brown sugar. A savory symphony of flavors in your mouth.

"That good huh," Frankie smiles as you let out a groan.

"Mmph," is all you can manage, eyes closed, savoring the bite with a happy food wiggle.

You offer the bao up to him, angled so he can get the perfect bite, the scruff on his chin tickling your fingers as he takes an exaggerated bite.

"Fuch, ish good," he mumbles, mouth full and sauce dripping out the corner of his mouth.

When you brush your thumb to wipe the sauce away, the pink triangle of his tongue peeks out to lick your finger clean. Your eyes flick up and catch a dark, mischievous look across Frankie's face that makes you want to combust on the fucking spot. You distract yourself by taking another bite of the bao before offering the last bite to him.

He sighs in contentment when the food is finished and pulls you closer to him, tucking you to his side. It's warm and safe here snuggled against him with his strong arm draped over your shoulder as you idly watch other diners nearby. Safe enough you weigh the risk of ruining the moment by sharing about your painful past.

"Can I tell you a little bit about... what happened a year ago?" you ask, voice quiet, looking up at him.

Frankie returns your gaze, "Of course."

"Ok," you drop your gaze to your hands and take a deep breath before continuing. "We, um, met in college. Both of us pre-med... and just dorks with the same goals you know?"

You tell Frankie about Chase, how he changed from a sweet college boy to someone you didn't recognize as you went through med school and residency. "I was so afraid of being alone, I ignored the red flags and how we were growing apart until he went out of state for his fellowship and I stayed here. That’s when I realized I was happier on my own than when he would visit."

You peek up at Frankie through your lashes and realize he's been looking at you and listening intently the entire time. "But it took catching him cheating for me to leave."

You shudder at the memory of the night you tried to leave and the weeks that passed before you finally could. That is a story for another day. Frankie tightens his grip around your shoulders as he releases a sharp exhale through his nose when you stop talking.

"I appreciate you sharin' all that with me, Sweets," he says, pausing as if he isn't sure what he wants to say next. His thumb on your shoulder tracing slow circles on your skin.

"I guess I spent the last year working on myself and figuring out what I want now in a relationship," you continue.

"And what's that?"

"Where I can be myself and not have to cut off pieces to fit someone else's idea of who I should be — accepted for being me," the last part you say wistfully.

"As you should be. You're amazing, you know that?"

"Depends who you ask," you respond, quirking a smile up at him. "But I like myself alright now."

Frankie shares a bit about where things went south with Vanessa, his struggles with learning how to single parent. They had been high school sweethearts and stayed together, though he admits he felt like they were growing apart even before he joined Delta Force. How they tried to stick it out when Vanessa got pregnant with Gabi, but eventually realizing it was better for everyone if they separated.

You pull his arm tighter around you when you feel him hesitate and start to pull back after sharing about his own relationship history.

"Thanks for telling me."

"Not too much?" Frankie asks, eyes etched with worry.

"You're never too much for me, Frankie."

He visibly relaxes before asking, "Would getting dessert be too much?"

"Never," you say as you stand and offer your hands to pull him up. "Don't you know I have a whole separate stomach for dessert?"

The dessert course is a small takeaway window for Italian water ice just off the broad walk along the beach. You weigh the flavor options, debating between mango and passion fruit, before finally deciding on mango. Frankie picks passion fruit without hesitation.

He gives you a knowing smile and wink when you raise an eyebrow to his choice, "Figure that way you'll get to try both flavors." Is it possible to simultaneously melt into a puddle and combust from his thoughtfulness?

The velvety smooth ice refreshes as the fruit flavor cleanses your palate from your decadent dinner. You both make your way down the broad walk at a leisurely pace, sharing bites of yours with Frankie as he feeds you bites of his.

“Not too sweet?” he asks with a grin, knowing your bar for the ideal dessert.

“Not too sweet,” you confirm with a pleased smile.

He offers you the last spoon of his dessert, which you accept without hesitation because your sweet tooth is the boss, before he takes both your empty cups and tosses them into the trash. You intertwine your fingers in his as you continue your stroll, turning down one of the piers and walking down part of the way.

“Think this might be the best first date I’ve ever been on,” you smile at him, eye to eye as you lean back and balance on the lowest rung of the railing. His strong arms cage you in on both sides, protective as if you might possibly fall into the water below.

“Yeah?” He breathes back, curls whipped wild by the ocean’s breeze, brown eyes anchored to yours. “What would make it definitely the best first date you’ve ever been on?”

“If you kissed me right now.” The tip of your tongue wets your lower lip as your gaze flicks to his plush lips curving into a small smile at your words.

Frankie smooths your hair back before cupping your cheek with one hand. “Think I can manage that.” He presses the line of his body against you as he slots his mouth against yours, gently at first, until you open for him to lick into your mouth. A soft moan escapes your throat. He kisses you harder, his other large hand snaking up the middle of you back to cup your neck, holding you in place. You reach your hands to run your fingers through his curls, such soft curls, tugging to keep him pressed against you. When he lets out a soft moan you realize he likes it when you do that.

Your foot slips when someone suddenly catcalls the two of you, followed by a "GET A ROOM!" But Frankie catches you with his quick reflexes, holding you tight against him. "I got you, baby," he reassures, voice breathy and soft. Baby. You practically melt at the endearment. And because he's now nuzzling the sensitive spot behind your ear with the delicious curve of his nose, peppering kisses down the column of your neck.

"Frankie," your voice comes out breathy like you've just sprinted down the broad walk. You repeat his name when he continues to pepper you with kisses.

"Hmm," he rumbles against your neck.

"We're in public." A giggle escapes your throat.

His eyes flick up to yours, black pupils edging out the brown you get lost in, expression intense. Hungry, but not for food. He wraps an arm around your waist and places you gently back on solid ground.

"I can fix that, baby," he murmurs. Pressing a kiss to your temple and tucking your hair behind your ear, he steers you by the small of your back and leads you back to his truck.

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Endnote: Sweet's relationship with her ex-fiance is partially inspired by this quote from Robin Williams: "I used to think that the worst thing in life was to end up alone. It's not. The worst thing in life is to end up with people who make you feel alone."

Hi hi, did ya miss me? I missed YOU. Been adjusting to a new job and the absolute fatigue from training has me beat (summer powerlifting competition wee!). But I’m so glad Frankie and Sweets finally went on their date and ate so well. It’s funny, but I’ve mostly written the last chapter and I just need to get them there. I’m learning that all the stuff between is uh, the hard part. Also, I still haven’t wrapped my head around writing smut, but we’ll see. At least they kinda made out? Lol. Thanks for reading if you’ve made it this far. It means the world to this newbie fanfic writer. Taglist is open! You know you wanna! xoxo, Jee

Taglist: @katareyoudrilling @christinamadsen @rebel-held @littlemisspascal

@burntheedges @darkheartgatita @enretrogue @titabel

@copperhalfcent @triplefrontier-anniversary

#hold fast a frankie x powerlifting!reader fanfic #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie catfish morales #pedro pascal characters #triple frontier #happy frankie friday #frankie friday

[aziraphales-library]

Hellooo ✨ Thank you very much for creating this blog, is an incredible resource!

I would like to ask you if you remember an unfinished human AU! fic based on a Strictly Come Dancing setting (I guess, never watched that show). Aziraphale is the professional dancer, Crowley an actor who's trying to get more attention from the audience to get more roles. At first they hate eachother, but the attraction is undeniable. It's beautifully written by two authors who said they would have probably kept writing again once the s.2 have been broadcasted. I can't find it anywhere, though, and I'm afraid it had been cancelled :(

Thank you very much!

Have a nice day 🎀

I think it's probably this one!

Loosely Ballroom by marginalia_device, mortifyingideal [M] [WIP]

Dust off your dancing shoes, because it’s that time of year again! The new season of Strictly Come Dancing starts TONIGHT on BBC One! A brand new crop of celebs are getting ready to compete for the coveted Glitterball trophy, and they’re a mixed bunch— ranging from beloved telly presenter Eve Gardener to washed-up stage and screen actor Anthony J Crowley.

Whose tango will tantalise? Whose cha-cha will charm us? And who will be doomed by their dreadful, dreadful salsa? Join us every second Saturday at 7pm to find out!

—

Aziraphale is a professional, Crowley is a contestant, and the BBC needs viewers. Does what it says on the tin, if the tin has a whopping great “STRICTLY COME DANCING AU” label on it.

~Mod N

#good omens #ineffable husbands #dancer aziraphale #actor crowley #enemies to lovers #m rated #mod n #human au #strictly come dancing #dancers au

[mrs-santoss]

As Long As You're Okay - Neymar Imagine

Summary: Hiii :) Love ur blog. Can u do a imagine where u wreck Neymars new car and ure scared to tell him. Can u make it where Ney is very sweet and understandable and it ends in fluff. It literally happened to me today lol. Kissess xoxo Author's Note: Hi, love. I hope your accident wasn't anything too serious. Thank you for the kind words, lots of love from me. :)

Neymar bought a new car a week ago. He was thinking of purchasing it for so long now. He got a Lamborghini Urus S in his favorite color and he's very excited to drive it. I, myself, drive a Range Rover mini Evoque. It's not as big as Ney's new car, but it's still a SUV. I had to run some errands today while Neymar was still asleep. It's Saturday, so usually Neymar sleeps in late since he doesn't have training. I got out of the shower and did my hair and makeup in the bathroom. After I did so, I went to my closet in the bedroom where Ney was sleeping to get something to wear. I had my back turned to Neymar and I go through my clothes. I'm only in my underwear. "Hey there, sexy ass" he says in a sleepy voice catching me by surprise. "Hey there, amor. I'm sorry, did I wake you up?" I turn to face him and jump on the bed to kiss him. "Kind of, but It's okay, I love the view." he says back to me. "I have to run some errands today, I will be back in 2 hours or less. Can you hang out by yourself until then, amor?" I ask him while laying my head on his chest. "Sure, I'll probably fall back asleep after you leave. Hey, why don't you take the new car?" he asks me with excitement. "Uhh, I don't know, bebê. It's a brand new car, I'm scared of ruining it. I'll just take my car." I ask back to him and return to the closet pulling out a sports wear set and a sweatshirt to throw over the shirt, just in case. "No, bebê. You're a great driver, you can take it, it's okay." he asks back to me, finally convincing me. "Okay, then. Thank you, amor! Love you, go back to sleep!" I give him a kiss on the lips, grab my purse and the car keys and leave. "I love you too, amor" _________________________________________________ I had to stop by the pharmacy to pick up some things and go shopping for some bed sheets. After I was done with the pharmacy, I made my way to Anthropologie for the bed sheets. The car is amazing. The interior is very chic and modern. I drove Neymar's cars before, but usually, he's the one who drives when we're together. I park the car and head out to the store. I spend half an hour there before I make my way back to the car. I put everything in the trunk and get ready to leave. As soon as I make my way out of the parking lot, I meet a small intersection. All of a sudden, a car comes from the other way at full speed making a turn at the same time a do. I try my best to swerve the car on the other direction to avoid a fatal hit. I turn my steering wheel towards a pole and I crash into it with my side of the car. The other car just honks and leaves. This is not a very busy road, so he must've thought the same because he was going at full speed in such a dangerous road. He was stupid. What the fuck. I start to panic. I was okay physically, but the only thing in my mind was Neymar. Shit. Fuck. I should've taken my fucking car. How do I let him know about this? I can't call him. But, I have too. Maybe, I can fix it and not let him know. I can't do that. FUCK. I began to cry out of frustration and anxiety. The thing that was bothering me the most was the fact that Ney trusted me with this car, I should've been more cautious. I should've been more careful, maybe paid more attention. I move the car to a more safe place and grab my phone to call my boyfriend. It was time. I hate it when I have to disappoint him. I didn't even care about the price of fixing it, I would work double shifts and pay it, It was all about Neymar. I dial his number and he picks up after a few rings. "Hey, bebê. Where are you? Are you done already?" he asks immediately. I don't know why I began to cry hard and a sob came out. "Ney..." I can't talk, I don't wanna sound weak, but I can't talk without crying. "Y/N? Y/N, what's wrong? Are you okay?" he asks me, now in a worried tone. "Ney, I'm sorry, bebê. But..." I speak to him in a barely understandable voice.

"Y/N, why are you crying? Please, talk to me, meu amor. You're driving me crazy" he asks slightly raising his voice at me. Probably, because of his panic mode not because he wants to yell at me. At least for now. "I was on my way home and.... I didn't see him... or he didn't see me I don't know... And I tried to avoid crashing into him.... and I...." I couldn't even finish before Neymar spoke up. "WHAT?! Y/N are you okay? Where are you?!" he's practically screaming at me now. "I swerved the car and crashed into a pole. I'm okay, but the car is wrecked on my side. I'm so sorry, Ney. I tried my best to be careful, I'm so sorry." I finally confess to him, still crying. "Bebê? Y/N? Amor, it's okay, fuck the car. I'm not mad AT ALL. Do you hear me? Amor, can you tell me your location please?" he asks, now in a calm tone, he can tell that I'm scared of what his reaction will be. "I will fix it, I promise. I will send it in today and make it look as new. I promise, Ney. I know, I should've been more careful." I say back to him, I want to let him know I'm extremely sorry. He works hard for his money, he deserves everything he has and here's me, ruining his possessions. "Y/N, calm down, meu amor. Can you PLEASEEE let me know your location? I want to be there, bebê." he asks, I can hear shuffling in the background, I think he's getting in the car to come to me. I give him my location and hang up waiting for him to come. I want to get out of the car and see the mess I've done. The more I look at it the more sad I get. I know Neymar is able to afford this car, but that doesn't mean I should take advantage of that. That's what I'm scared he will think because of this. Neymar arrives with my car and parks it in front of me. As soon as he parks he immediately gets out of the car and runs to my door. He opens the door and takes a look at me examining me. He didn't even glance at the damaged spot. He looked very worried. "Y/N, are you okay?" he asks while still looking at me, pulling my hair behind my ear looking at my face. All of a sudden his eyes widen." Oh, my god, you're hurt, Y/N. Did you not notice this? I was confused. I wasn't in any pain. Maybe I still have a rush of adrenaline going through me, that's why I didn't notice it. But, I felt okay. I had a scratch on my temple, it was bleeding. "No, Ney. I'm okay, It's just a scratch, bebê. It must of happened when I hit the brake. I promise, I'm okay." I say to him, he's not convinced by my words at all. He grabs my hands and helps me step outside of the car. He presses me against the car and takes a longer look at it. He still hasn't looked at the mess. I decided to speak up. "Ney, did you see the mess?" I ask in a low tone. "I think we should go to the hospital. This could be serious. Do you feel dizzy or anything?" he asks, completely ignoring my question. "Ney? I'm sorry, I will fix it, I promise." I say to him, bringing back the question. "Meu amor, fuck the car. Do you hear me? You could've been seriously hurt. This could've been fatal if you didn't react this way. I know what you're thinking, but trust me, I don't have the tiniest thought of blaming you. I know you don't want to cause me any damage, but I truly believe I was blessed today. You're here next to me." he says all this quickly with his hands on my cheeks, kissing my forehead repeatedly.

We press our foreheads against each other. "Are you sure you're okay, Y/N? Please don't lie to me." "I'm okay, Ney. I promise." "I love you so fucking much. I've never been more scared in my life than the moment you called me crying about the crash." "I'm sorry. I love you too, amor. I fucking love you too."

#neymar masterlist #neymar #neymar x reader #neymar imagines #neymar imagine #neymar jr x reader #neymar jr fanfiction #neymar jr imagines #neymar jr imagine #neymar jr #fanfiction #football masterlist #football imagine #football imagines #imagines

[rashomonss]

A HUMANS WRATH

Part II.V

previous part

taglist: @miridiums-writing, @zerchlia, @aeongiies, @xmoogx

(please lmk if you would like to be added, i don’t mind at all)

a/n: i mentioned this before in another blog but these chapters will be released every saturday as of right now, however if anything changes i’ll be sure to let y’all know! again thanks so much for all the love with this story it means the world!

warnings: mentions of lesson 16, angst, a bit of yelling, panic attacks, abusing the power of the packs

Now then let’s travel a bit back in time shall we?

the destruction of memories

It was finally a peaceful night of relaxation where you could enjoy yourself. Not much was done, just a bit of self care and homework, nothing crazy was needed when indulging yourself. Your whole day had been spent avoiding the demons you were forced to live with.

Per usual they would constantly try and ask about you and your day, but honestly you found no point in giving any of them your time. Finally annoyed you realized that you needed to get out of the house so you were scheduled to meet with the angels and Solomon tomorrow afternoon for a picnic.

You had honestly despised life in the Devildom. It was exasperating to constantly have to give your time and effort to a program you wanted no part in. Well in a sense your first couple of months were great, but after the incident you’d rather not be here. Because who in their right mind would want to stay under the same roof as a murder.

Picking up the current book you had borrowed from the library; you continued where you had left off. It was an interesting story to say the least. The main focus was on a character traveling to an alternate timeline where things played out differently than they remembered. You pondered for a bit on what that would be like only to stop yourself and realize that no matter what happened you’d never want the outcome to change.

The book left a sour taste in your mouth so you decided that was enough for tonight. Getting some extra sleep couldn’t hurt and was probably needed. You were never one to set an alarm since you had gotten used to waking up early everyday for RAD. Fixing your sheets just a tad didn’t make much of a difference when laying in bed. However you were comfortable so in the end it was fine. Interestingly enough that nights sleep was probably the nicest you’ve had in a while.

Well that was until the annoying beeping of an alarm rang through your ears. Confused and honestly upset you sat up trying to find the source of the horrible noise. After a few minutes you finally found your phone under your pillow and turned the alarm off. Since you were now wide awake you made your way to your small bathroom and began to get ready.

However looking at yourself in the mirror had caught you off guard, in a way you looked a bit different. Your eye bags weren’t as dark as usual and your hair looked a tad longer as well as healthier than you realized yesterday. Not to mention your skin had a nice subtle glow to it. Did you always look like this? You pondered as you touched your face.

Shaking your head you looked around at all the products and things that littered your counter. Had your bathroom always been this messy? And these products looked familiar, where had you seen them before?

Walking back into your room you realized the layout was slightly different as well, of course it looked like your room but some new things had to have been added. Walking towards the wall you noticed a new bulletin board hanging where a poster should have been. Upon closer inspection the board was filled with pictures of the demon brothers, the prince and his butler, and the angels and sorcerer.

When were these taken? And why were you in some of them smiling? Inspecting the photos closer your eyes landed on one of you and a certain someone. You both looked to be laying down on a bed; possibly the one in the attic? And he had half of his face snuggled into your neck as you smiled back at him. You had to have taken the picture from the angle you both were looking.

“What the hell.” you had said aloud. Ripping the picture off the bulletin board you held it in your shaking hands. So many emotions filled your mind and you didn’t know how to process most of them so you had turned to your usual outlet for stress. Destroying things.

A loud rip sound was heard as you tore the delicate picture right down the middle. Each picture on the bulletin board followed soon after. Quickly you had ripped all of them off and shredded them to pieces with your hands.

Colorful picture scraps littered the floor around you as you began to feel your chest tighten. A panic attack was coming on and you could feel it. The way it became harder to breathe or even think as the room spun.

These were a common occurrence for your after the incident, and you couldn’t figure out as to why. Could it possibly be from the stress they had caused during your stay here? The constant threats to your life each day made it hard to keep a stable mentally, and after being killed it felt like the dam had broken.

You were only a human after all, you could only take so much. The least they can do is take responsibility for what they had done.

That’s what you believed. However seeing those pictures brought back memories to before the incident, good memories, the ones you tried so hard to keep locked away. But the one with him set you off. How could you even be that stupid? What if you got killed again? He is a demon after all, isn’t that what they do?

Your breathing had picked up as you felt your chest constrict. Hot tears had begun to pool in your eyes due to the lack of oxygen, and your throat ached as a coughing fit was brought on. Falling to the floor you could feel yourself almost dry heaving. Why was this happening now? It was only a picture? You had thought.

The rage you had turned into unnecessary panic, and now back to rage as you began to claw at the carpet. It was all his fault. No matter how much distance you had put between you both or how standoffish you acted he still scared you. That damn demon was to blame for your panic attacks. This was all-

“MC!” a voice called out to you. “What’s goin’ on are ya ok!? Here, come here!”

What? Who is that? The voice sounds familiar but it was hard to see through the tears. Suddenly a pair of arms engulfed you and began to slowly rub your back.

“Just breathe, m’kay” they said resting their head in your shoulder.

“No get off, what the hell-“ you yelled beginning to panic again.

“Mc calm down you’ll only make it worse” The voice said sternly. “Breathe”

Doing as the voice said you slowly but surely tried to regain your breathing, and once it was finally stable you could feel yourself coming down from the adrenaline high. It was exhausting to say to least, however you let yourselves lean into the person holding you.

“there ya go” the voice said caressing your head.

Why did that voice sound so familiar? Looking up the person wiped your eyes with their hand and made a face. “Ya got your human snot all over my jacket, not like I care though” they said laughing.

That brown jacket…it couldn’t be. Finally adjusting your eyes to the light as well as the person in front of you, you realized that it was exactly who you expected.

“How are ya feeling? You ok now? Wanna talk about it?

“Get out”

“Huh?”

“I said get out”

“Mc, are ya sure you’re ok?”

“Mammon I command you to get the hell out of my room! Don’t get near me again!” you yelled at the confused male.

His face looked hurt, more so than usual. Weird? However that didn’t stop him from leaving as soon as you gave the command. He found himself hitting your door, hard. Then he left.

His touch lingered on you, it set your skin on fire, and frankly it made you sick. Running to the bathroom you started the shower and set the water to the hottest setting. Throwing off your clothes you jumped in and lathered yourself in body wash, then began scrubbing yourself till you felt your skin burn.

Once you finally felt clean you changed and packed an overnight bag. You were not going to stay here tonight. No way; the angels would understand, they always did when it came to the brothers, even Solomon was understanding in a sense. They would always let you stay in Purgatory Hall whenever things became too much and today they were way too much.

A sudden knock at your door alerted you. You had waited a second before answering with a stern,“What is it?’

“Mc darling, are you feeling ok? Lucifer sent me to check on you, also Levi said that breakfast is ready whenever you feel better”

That was Asmodeus’ voice, you could tell, after all no one else called you darling. It was a stupid pet name you asked him to drop but no matter what he continued to call you it. “Okay I’ll be out in a minute” you had responded after a second.

“Ok dear, also you should talk to Mammon, he’s sulking and honestly it’s making the whole room depressing” Asmo joked. “I know you didn’t mean it, but still he was just trying to help”

How did Asmo know about your panic attack already? Did Mammon tell all of them? You panicked, what if they thought of you as a joke now? You built their respect towards you through months of harsh treatment and very clear boundaries, but now it would all crumble away because of a mere panic attack.

“Mc..? Sweetheart, are you in there?” Asmo called out after a minute or two. He was actually starting to worry because he had stopped hearing sound from the other side of the door. Mammon had mentioned you had some sort of breakdown this morning and shoved him out of your room in a haste with a few harsh words to follow.

Lucifer came to your defense saying it could have been the building stress you were under so he had sent the fifth eldest to check on you. Completely oblivious to what was going on, Levi demanded Asmo tell you breakfast was ready before Beel decided to accidentally eat your portion. So here he was in front of your room waiting for you to appear in the door frame or even show yourself to him.

You had grabbed the small duffel bag and swung open the door, revealing the demon on the other side. He smiled at you but sadly to his dismay it was not returned.

“You’re in the way, can you move please?” you said obviously annoyed.

Asmo was caught off guard and blinked a few times before registering what you had said. He then moved to the side while looking you over. You had side eyed the demon then walked towards the direction of the foyer. Asmo quietly followed behind you and watched as you quickly turned the corner.

You had finally made your way to the foyer when you began to lose it. “Asmodeus stop following me, it’s making me uncomfortable and for one you should know I don’t like you being so close, so back off”

Asmo jumped at the sudden outburst and all his brothers who happened to be in the foyer turned their attention towards the two of you. Mammon gave a knowing look to Lucifer who in turn sighed.

“Mc I know you’re upset but you shouldn’t lash out at Asmo because of that” Lucifer said stepping forward.

“Oh shut up Lucifer” you said glaring at him.

“Excuse me?” He replied narrowing his eyes at you. The tension had grown thicker in the foyer as all the brothers looked between you and Lucifer.

“Mc-“

“Save it, I’m leaving”

“What? Where are you going?” Beel then spoke up.

“Not like it’s any of your business but to Purgatory Hall, now get out of the way” you said pushing through Lucifer,

“Will you be back for dinner? We were all supposed to go out tonight remember?” Satan then said.

“Yeah! B-but you shouldn’t leave without breakfast, your plate is on the table” Levi said quietly fidgeting with his fingers.

“You look a bit tired did you get enough sleep last night?” Said a voice.

Your head shot around at the sound of the youngest brothers voice. Why was he acting like he cared? As if he could. You scoffed and looked the youngest up and down.

“All of you need to stop acting like you care honestly is bothersome. I have told all of you numerous times to leave me the hell alone what don’t you understand? You demons never listen”

“So instead I’ll force you to. I want all of you get away from me this instant, and don’t show your face or even speak to me unless I allow you. Now leave”

Your words had cut deep but they couldn’t find it in them to say anything due to the command. Each brother was thrown back a bit due to the sheer anger of your words. They felt their mouths shut as they made their way out of the foyer into separate rooms. Each wondering what they did to anger you so.

“Interesting” you had said aloud. Lucifer and Belphegor seemed to obey you, something like that had never happened before. So why now? Not to mention their behavior was also weird, they were more pushy and concerned than usual.

Whenever you told them to stop they would but for some reason they were more persistent than usual today.

You pushed the thought to the back of your mind as you made your way out the door, determined to head to Purgatory Hall. Hopefully a clam presence like everyone there would help ease your mind.

It was only a hope after all.

a/n: so this is a mini chapter, part 3 will still release on Saturday if anyone was wondering!

I had noticed in swap stories like this the other Mc’s pov is never really written or talked about, so I wanted to give y’all the chance to see their pov as they interact with the brothers you all interact with. More small chapters will be released like this when important situations come up. Anyways that’s enough for now, I don’t want to spoil to much lol thanks for reading! <3

Next part



#demon brothers #obey me #obey me angst #obey me belphie #obey me luficer #obey me mammon #obey me shall we date #obey me beelzebub #obey me asmodeus #obey me satan #obey me levithan #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me mc #alternate universe

[she-is-juniper]

Reckless Serenade // Austin Butler x Reader

Pairing: Austin Butler x f!Reader

Type: oneshot / standalone (can be read as a prequel to The Devil I Know)

Summary: You and Austin are in a new relationship, and you’ve been teasing him all week, so by the time the weekend hits, Austin decides to try out a few of his kinks on you.

Word Count: 5K

Rating: E (Explicit) ***18+ only. Minors DNI or you will be blocked.

Warnings: smut, exhibitionism, car sex, semi-public sex, oral sex (female- receiving), dominant/submissive relationship, degradation, slight edging, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, folks), Austin being absolutely filthy, dirty talk

A/N:      Happy Sinful Saturday ♡ This can be read as a prequel to my fic "The Devil I Know", but also functions well on its own. Full disclosure: This oneshot is essentially a rewrite of an old fic of mine that I published on a past blog. That being said, I’ve added things, adjusted details, and frankly made it a lot better. The important thing is that it was 100% my fic when it was originally published, and it’s 100% my fic now!

     This is a work of fiction and is not intended to be taken as truth or fact. I do not claim to own Austin Butler or any other affiliated names or fictional events. Other details, such as names, locations, and events, are also fictionalized. PLEASE TAKE NOTE THAT PUBLIC SEX, INCLUDING CAR SEX, IS ILLEGAL; this is FICTION and not intended to be replicated. Please, for the love of all that is holy, do not get yourself arrested.

     Please also note that the representations of body types in my moodboard are not intended to exclude anybody of any race, ethnicity, or body shape. The purpose of the moodboard is simply to emulate the essence or mood of the fic's settings/characters/relationships.

Enjoy! ◡̈ -Juni

❊ ❊ ❊ ❊ ❊ ❊ ❊ ❊ ❊ ❊ 

Even for a girl who comes from humble beginnings, you certainly have a taste for the finer things in life. And dating Austin Butler is certainly one of those finer things.

Keep reading

“How do I look?”

You smirk and twirl your body to give Austin a full 360 of your body. You’re wearing a new gown, a sleek silver number by Dior you’d snatched on a whim last weekend. It fits you like a glove—or rather, like a second skin—and the expensive quality of the fabric makes you look like you’re dripping with opulent grace. A slit in the skirt accentuates your smooth leg along with the new Louboutin stilettos you’ll probably regret wearing later. And, of course, you're wearing a new fragrance you're starting to believe might become your new signature—Papillon's Salome.

Maybe it’s all a little too much for a Friday night dinner to celebrate your boyfriend’s agent’s birthday. But the restaurant you’re going to is more than nice enough to constitute a valid reason for formal wear.

And the look of hunger in Austin’s eyes is worth it. He says nothing as he watches you, his legs crossed, his fingers absentmindedly stroking the leather of the armchair he sits in at the corner of your bedroom. A mischievous upward lilt is growing at the corners of his mouth. He needs no words to express what he’s thinking.

Still, you continue to subtly show off your figure for him, turning toward your dresser mirror to adjust your earrings.

“You don’t think it’s too much?” you ask, hoping he doesn’t ignore the way you arch your back as you lean to reach for a simple necklace. “I know it’s just a birthday dinner—”

“You look perfect,” Austin says simply.

You turn to smile at him. He looks pretty perfect too, in a dark jacket and trousers combination that pairs nicely with a black button-down shirt. You love it when he wears dark colors. 

“Okay, I’m ready. Shall we go?���

Austin nods and stands. He leads you outside with a delicate hand on the small of your back. It’s odd that he’s restraining himself from touching you more, especially when you know how much he loves you in a dress.

But that look in his eyes… You wonder how long he intends to let the night go by before demanding you to strip it off.

Not a dull day has passed in your budding relationship with Austin Butler. For a man so charming and collected on the outside, he’s full of surprising twists that always leave you guessing what he’ll be doing next. You’ve only been dating him for a few weeks, and his unpredictability has made every moment exhilarating.

The sex has been constant and unbelievably good. You'd never experienced anything even remotely like it. The first time Austin had you, you were blown away by the sheer passion in everything he did. From the precise way he planted kisses along every inch of your skin, to the fire burning in his gaze as he slid into you for the first time and every time after that, you knew he was as addicted to you as you were to him. You trusted him entirely with your body, and he seemed to reciprocate that responsibility with the utmost care of you and your pleasure.

But everything is still very new. And you can’t help but feel like he’s holding something back.

Austin opens the passenger door of his car for you, and then circles to the driver’s side to climb in and start the engine. You check the clock in the dashboard: 7:05 p.m. You and he are going to arrive a little early to the 7:30 reservation. Which is surprising, seeing as you tend to run late to things when Austin is involved.

It feels strangely tense between you and Austin the whole drive. You make small talk about your day, and he about his. But he’s acting…off. You want to look at his face to gleam some kind of clarity about his mood, but his blue eyes are glued on the road.

Watching his fingers stroke the steering wheel twists your core in the best of ways. You cross your thighs and squeeze them together tightly, yearning to feel those fingers of his on your skin. All week, you’d been so busy with your own work, and he with meetings and promotional photoshoots. You hadn’t had quality time with him in ages. And you missed him, missed him in every way. Frankly, your underwear has been soaking wet with anticipation since the weekend had begun.

“Is everything okay?” you ask quietly after a long stretch of silence.

Austin gnaws on the inside of his cheek, looking very much like he’s trying not to say something. “Yeah, everything’s fine,” he says finally.

Austin has a lot of moods, you’ve found. But you haven’t known him long enough to figure out what mood this one is. “Okay, I just wanted to make sure. You’re just a little quiet is all.” You reach across the cab and place a tentative hand on his thigh.

The gesture is meant to be reassuring, but a little sound emits from Austin’s mouth that sounds oddly like a growl.

“Y/N,” he says.

“What?” you reply.

“You’re such a fucking tease.”

You’re taken aback, primarily because you can’t decipher the tone of his voice. Is he angry with you? You frown, withdrawing your hand from his leg. His eyes break away from the road to follow the movement of your hand.

“You think I’m a tease?” you say.

Maybe it’s your imagination, but you think you see a small shudder runs down his spine. “You’ve been taunting me all night. All week.”

He isn’t wrong. In the brief encounters you’ve had with Austin this week, you’ve been flirty on purpose, giggly and touchy and suggestive. You wanted to give him something to look forward to for this weekend, for the plans you and he had made to catch up. But was it too much? Is he mad now? Is this about to become your first fight?

“I… I didn’t mean…”

Austin presses his lips into a tight line as he pulls the car into the parking lot of the restaurant, which was a high-end steakhouse in West Hollywood with a private room for events such as these. He parks in the shadowed alley around the corner of the building, a good distance away, even though there are ample spots to park closer to the entrance. What little light there is left in the dusk sky is shrouded by the side of the building.

Austin cuts the engine. You and he sit in silence for too long.

“You’re mad,” you ask, but it comes out as more of a confused-sounding statement.

You wait for him to confirm it, but instead, Austin swiftly unbuckles his seatbelt and leans over to take your face in his hands—grabs you, really, more harshly than you’d been expecting. He’s scowling. And then he kisses you.

As his lips find yours, you’re surprised by his roughness. Despite the smoothness of his clean-shaven face, he's rough with his actions, as one of his hands buries in your hair and the other presses firmly against your neck. Desperation seeps from his tongue, which traces your top lip.

“Aus,” you whisper. In response, he lets out a low groan. It’s suddenly clear; he wants you . You realize you’ve mistaken anger with sexual frustration.

“Get in the backseat,” he murmurs as he breaks away.

“Austin,” you say his name in full now.

“Do it.” His voice is stern and husky.

You understand now why Austin wanted to get here so early, and you feel even more wetness pool between your thighs as you comply with his request. You climb over the middle storage compartment and onto the sleek black leather of the backseat. He had removed all of the seats to make room for all his gigging equipment, so without a backseat, you sit on the floor of the van and blink up at him in anticipation. Austin follows suit, crouching on the floor in front of you, right beside your legs. But he doesn’t kiss you again.

“You know how I feel about being teased, baby?” His eyes rake over your body. Two slow, teasing hands grab the floor-length hem of your gown and pull it up your legs, revealing more and more of your legs with each passing second. He situates himself in between them. “You’re playing with fire. I know exactly what I want from you, and when I want it,” he continues in a dangerous voice. “And when I don’t get it…” He tsks.

You gasp at the cool air as Austin hikes your dress up to your thighs, finally revealing your thin panties.

“You’ve been very naughty this week,” he drawls, glaring up at you through lowered eyes. “Teasing me with your touches, those dirty texts, all while you knew I was too busy to do anything about it. And then you put this dress on.” He caresses the expensive material of your dress that’s bunched around your thighs. “You knew exactly what you were doing to me, didn’t you, sweetheart?”

“Austin,” you whisper, looking around outside out the window. You and he were in a parking lot, for fuck’s sake.

He just smirks with a raised eyebrow, the lust in his blue eyes crystal clear. “I think it’s time I get what I want,” he says.

You bite your lip, wanting him to hurry up and start touching you already. “What do you want, Aus?” you whisper, grabbing for one of his hands and dragging it up your bare leg.

But Austin withdraws his hand from your skin. “Naughty girls don’t get touched,” he scolds.

You huff in exasperation. “Please, Aus—”

He cuts you off. “No begging, that’s not gonna work on me today.”

Fuck, he’s gonna drive you crazy. You huff again and slouch against the backrest of the seat, crossing your arms in frustration. If he isn’t going to touch you, what the hell was the point of getting into the backseat?

Austin looks up at you with a self-satisfied sneer. He pulls himself up toward your face, bringing a gentle hand up to brush your cheek with his fingers. “I won’t touch you right now, sweetheart, but I want you to touch yourself,” he whispers hoarsely into your ear. It sends an involuntary chill down your spine and toward your core.

“You…you want…” You flinch as Austin nips your earlobe gently, an unexpected action that makes you keen, despite your best efforts.

Austin traces your parted lips with a gentle thumb. “That’s right,” he says. “But you’re going to need to listen very carefully to everything I say. Understand?”

You nod, gulping. This is new for him. Outside the car, you can hear the sounds of people chatting as they enter or leave the restaurant. God, you’re relieved the car’s windows are so darkly tinted.

Austin pulls away to look into your eyes. His expression softens ever so slightly as he asks you: "Do you remember what we talked about last week, baby...about a safe word?"

Your stomach jolts. He had brought it up in passing one morning, but at the time, you hadn't fully grasped what he would need a safe word for. But the word was simple enough, and was the only word that held only one unmistakable meaning: stop.

"I remember," you whisper.

Austin gazes at you earnestly. "So you know you can say the word, anytime you want or need, and I'll stop, no questions asked. Yes?"

"Yes, baby."

"Good girl." Austin settles back on the floor in front of your seat, sitting on his knees and resting his hands on his lap. Through the darkness, you can still see the clear outline of the bulge in his dress pants. And then he opens his mouth and instructs, very slowly: “I want you to slip your panties off.”

Your mouth goes dry, and you look down at Austin questioningly. He raises an eyebrow in a gesture that needs no words to say: Don’t make me repeat myself.

So you hook your thumbs on either side of your underwear and lift your hips to drag them down. The crotch clings to your wetness, and there’s a noticeable spot of moisture where it had seeped through. You shimmy the fabric down to your feet, and you’re about to kick it away when Austin seizes it for himself. He traces the mark of wetness and brings it to his face. You moan out a breathy sound as you watch the tip of his tongue taste your pleasure on the underwear.

“Sit back,” he tells you.

You do.

“I want you to bring your left hand to your chest. That’s it. Now slip it beneath your neckline. I want you to feel your breast for me… Now, pinch your nipple. Is it nice and hard for me now?”

“Yes,” you say, your voice gravelly. Your back arches a little as the pinch reverberates down your torso. You feel so sensitive and so impatient at the pace he’s making you go.

“I want you to put your other hand on your tummy. Good girl. Don’t you dare bring it lower yet,” he warns. You prickle at the word yet . “Good. Now I want you to pull your neckline back, show me your nipples. Do you think you can show me?”

You do, pulling down the neckline of your dress to show him your breasts. You’re not wearing a bra—you don’t need it for this kind of dress—and you very much enjoy the way Austin’s breath seems to catch in his throat as he sees you exposed like this. Austin’s hand on his lap seems to twitch almost imperceptibly toward his crotch.

“Good girl, Y/N. Fuck, you look so good. Now pinch yourself for me. Imagine it’s my teeth on your sweet tits…good, good girl.”

You want so badly to move the hand on your stomach down between your legs. Instead, you clench your thighs together tightly, as you had done before. The movement is not lost on Austin. He growls and brings his hands to your knees, pulling them apart.

“I see what you’re trying to do there, sweetheart. That’s against my rules for this evening.”

You sigh when he withdraws his hands from your knees, aching for their warmth against your skin again. But when he places his hands back on his lap, one of them rests on his bulge and rubs.

“That’s not fair,” you protest. “Why do you get to touch yourself and I don’t?”

Austin’s eyes narrow. “This is my game,” he growls, low and dangerous. “Remember? I decide what I want and how I want it. You want more later tonight? Then listen to everything I say, and no talking back.”

His words send goosebumps across your skin. You nod in acceptance, shivering at the cool air on your wet pussy.

Austin doesn’t say anything for more than a few seconds, and you get antsy, arching your back and pressing your fingers into the skin of your navel. “Please, Austin…” you whisper, biting your lip. “Please let me touch myself.”

Austin’s eyes seem to gloss over with desire. Finally, he says, “Move your right hand down to rest over your pelvis. No lower.”

Every inch you move your hand closer feels hotter and hotter to the touch. You’re so fucking close to the place you desperately need friction that you have to suppress a moan.

“Yes, good girl, so patient,” Austin says, and you can see the hand on his cock squeezing it tighter as he watches you. “Show me your index finger? Yes, I want you to get that finger nice and wet for me.”

You let out your moan then as you allow your finger to trace a line down your wetness and separate your folds. You’re absolutely dripping.

“Good, yes. Fuck, you’re so good, so gorgeous. I want you to slip that finger inside of you, can you do that for me, Y/N?” Austin says, his voice growing tenser.

You whimper as you allow your finger to push past your folds and into you. It’s unbelievably slick and nearly pulsing with arousal. Austin curses and slips his own hand down the hem of his pants.

“Move your finger now, Y/N. I want you to fuck yourself.”

You pull your finger out before slipping it back in, and you tilt your head back. You groan, bending and flexing the finger inside of you, desperate for more…for another finger, for friction against your clit, for Austin to just fucking touch you anywhere. So you push your finger inside as far as it will go. And then your thumb brushes up against your clit, and the incidental pressure feels so good, too good. You press your thumb in a circle, desperate to feed your desire for more.

But Austin misses nothing, and he firmly pries your thumb off of your clit. “No,” he says simply, “not yet.”

“Austin, please—”

“Do what I say, and only what I say. Don’t make me punish you later.”

Fuck. You keep fingering yourself, allowing your fingertip to drag against every ridge inside of you. Each small wave of pleasure that courses through your body at the sensation bring about small moans from your lips. Austin’s having trouble holding back his own moans, now that his hand is in his pants. The idea that he’s pleasuring himself too makes you feel even wetter.

“You’re doing so good, my little slut. Show me your finger,” Austin says. You pull out your index finger dazedly, and Austin grunts in approval at the glistening slick that coats it. Suddenly, he leans over to you and takes your finger in his hot mouth. Your mouth falls open in a cry of pleasure, rejoicing at the warmth of his tongue around your finger.

“Fuck, Austin,” you whisper. You need him, more than you can express.

He releases your finger from his mouth with a pop. “God, you taste so good. Can’t believe you’re mine.”

“Please,” you mewl, not bothering to finish your plea. He knows what you want.

And you know he’s not about to give into you that easily. “You can touch your clit now, love.”

Thank fucking god. You don’t hesitate to drag your fingers—two this time—through your wetness again and back up to rest atop that bundle of nerves that so desperately needed movement. You start moving your fingers in quick circles.

“Slower,” Austin grunts.

You slow the movement into lazy, wide circles, biting your bottom lip between your lip. But you can’t hold back the moans for long, as much as you’d like to. You arch your back and keen, each circle bringing a wash of pleasure over your entire groan.

“Moan my name, baby,” you hear Austin say breathily. “I wanna hear you say my name with that pretty little mouth.”

You obey, intoning his name in place of your next outcry. Your fingers move faster now; you can’t help it. The delectable peak of pleasure is fast-approaching, now, and as tangible and foreboding as a tsunami wave on a horizon.

“Y/N. Fuck, yes, baby, you look so fucking good. My good little slut.”

Tendrils of fire scorch your skin from your core outward, and you press your fingers more firmly into yourself, desperate for the flames to overtake you. You cry his name like a broken record; it’s beginning to become one of the few words you can remember.

A swelling feeling begins to overtake your senses. You’re about to come.

“Austin, I—fuck, Austin, I need you—oh my god—”

Suddenly, Austin pulls your hand away in a single pull. You nearly shriek in protest, but he clamps another hand down on your mouth and shushes you. His eyes are wide as he gazes out the car’s window.

“Shit. Get down.”

He doesn’t wait for you to comply; he forces your shoulders down so you’re lying against the backseat bench instead of sitting upright. A voice from outside grows louder. Someone must be coming. Austin’s hand is still pressed against your mouth. You breathe heavily through your nose from how close your orgasm had been, and now your heart thuds even harder from fear of being caught.

“Keep quiet,” Austin hisses in your ear. He’s crouched next to you, and you hope he’s low enough to avoid being spotted if anyone tries to look inside. You can feel your pussy pulsing with pleasure, even though you’re no longer touching yourself. With an involuntary clinch of your walls, you hum out a moan, completely out of control of your body’s demand for release.

Footsteps outside draw nearer. “…Austin’s car,” someone says. You recognize the muffled voice as Austin’s agent’s.

“Wonder why he would park all the way over here?” says another voice, presumably his agent’s significant other.

“Well, if he’s parked, they’re here somewhere. But where?”

“Maybe they’re inside and we missed them.”

The couple finally retreats. Austin heaves out a sigh beside you, finally releasing his clamp on your mouth.

“That was close,” you whisper. Thank god they hadn’t peered in through the tinted windows.

Austin says nothing, but he’s still touching you, his hand clasped around yours from when he’d pulled it away, his chest pressed up against your side. You look over at him and realize his zipper is down, cock sprung out of his trousers in full. You bite your lip, desperate to finish what he’d had you start.

“Austin,” you plea, your voice high and breathy. “P—Please.”

He looks over at you and sweeps his eyes over the flushed skin of your cheeks and chest, and down to your inner thighs, where your dress is hiked up to your waist now, leaving nothing to his imagination. Your hips move up and down in involuntary thrusting movements, still high with impending pleasure.

It must be too much for him to resist the sight of you. Austin leans into you and presses his mouth onto yours in a sloppy, wet kiss. His fingertips dig into your hips before moving to squeeze your inner thigh. You nearly sob at the feeling of him touching you so close to where you need it.

“Austin, fuck, I need you.”

“I know, baby.” And he pulls you up in a sitting position once again, before he repositions himself on the floor beneath you and between your opened legs, seemingly desperate to taste you. “I’ll take care of you.” He nips twice at your inner thighs, one bite to each leg, before moving his mouth to rest against your sex.

Holy fuck. You cry out, arching your back and burying your hands in his blonde hair. Finally. Austin’s tongue delves into your folds, lapping up all the wetness that’s been dripping out of you. He moans loudly at the taste of you on his tongue, and you swear at the sensation of his low voice as it vibrates against you. His skillful tongue envelops your clit, then, and the addictive assault of warmth takes you by surprise, as it always does.

He breaks away, only to wet his finger with his saliva and you watch in awe as he pushes it into you. You see stars at the new sensation; Austin’s fingers are longer, thicker, and unbelievably more dexterous than yours. He doesn’t move them at first, but just watches as you thrust your hips back and forth, fucking yourself against his fingers. Finally, he curves them upward toward your belly, and your back jolts into an arch at the sudden pleasure.

“Baby, I’m gonna—oh my god, fuck, Austin, Austin…” The whirling flames of pleasure approach fast and sure, and your breathing grows erratic. Austin watches you unravel before him, biting his lip, before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking. His tongue circles you hard and fast. He inserts his middle finger inside you along with his index, curling the digits up into you over and over.

But what it is that finally pushes you over the edge is the sudden pressure of his other hand against your lower navel, pressing down firmly, almost as if he’s trying to press his fingers inside of you against as much of you as possible. And you come completely undone, the tendrils of fire overtaking your whole body. You arch your back and clench your walls around Austin’s fingers, unable to keep from screaming in pleasure or to keep your arms and legs from spasming.

It takes you several minutes to come down from your high. Aftershocks shake your body like electrocutions. You slump down against Austin’s backseat and moan, over and over; you couldn’t speak if you tried. Meanwhile, Austin kisses up and down your legs.

“So much for not touching me,” you murmur. Austin laughs, the breath tickling your thighs.

“I can’t help myself when it comes to you,” he remarks. “My girl. My sweet girl.”

“So you’re not really mad at me?”

Austin shakes his head and scoots his body so he’s closer to your face. He kisses your forehead. “No, sweetheart. Definitely not. I just… I just wanted to test out a couple of things with you.”

“What do you mean?”

He traces little patterns on the skin of your chest. “I… I wanted to see if you like it when I act more…dominant. I, um… I take it you do?”

You bite your lip and grin. “Yeah, I like it.” You like it more than you’d care to admit.

“And I like watching you get yourself off,” he admits. “I could watch you do it all day.”

“I prefer when it’s you getting me off,” you say.

He chuckles. “I also…” He runs a nervous hand through his hand. “I like the thrill of this. The thrill of almost being caught.”

“You do?”

“Fuck, yes. It’s just that much sexier.”

You smile lazily at him, shuddering as yet another aftershock of pleasure courses through your veins. “Then you can have me anywhere you’d like, Austin Butler.”

He moans in satisfaction. Then, you realize something. You glance down at his crotch. His cock is still out, exposed, and hard as ever. “Shit. Austin, you never…”

Austin shakes his head and smiles. “Don’t worry about me. I’m going to fucking devour you later, you know. It can wait.”

You reach a lazy hand down to his pulsing, pink member. He’s as hard as a metal rod; he grunts in response. “Sure doesn’t look like this can wait.”

He groans and gulps heavily.

“Oh, no. There’s no way we’re going to this steakhouse in the state you’re in right now.”

“Fuck, Y/N…”

“We can definitely do that,” you grin, spreading your legs for him tauntingly. The backseat bench is narrowish, but certainly wide enough for him on top of you…

Austin curses as you move your thumb over his head, spreading the precum all over. “You’re positive?”

“Fuck me, Austin.”

That’s all Austin needed to pull his trousers down to his ankles and clamber on top of you, planting demanding kisses to your lips. He positions his cock at your entrance, coating himself in your slickness, which has since pooled in dripping amounts between your thighs from your orgasm.

“Holy shit,” Austin says. He’s hesitant, as always, your comfort his first priority. You claw at his back and trail your hands down his spine to rest against his ass, pulling his hips up toward your entrance encouragingly. It’s all the urging he needs. He tips his head back as he slides his cock past your folds, and pushes as deep into you as you’re able to take him. It’s unbelievably slick and yet, as always, a delightfully tight fit for Austin. A steady stream of curses escapes both your lips and his as he bottoms out.

“You’re so fucking tight, baby. Fuck. You’re so beautiful. You’re so mine.”

Austin slowly pulls out of you, withdrawing a gasp from your throat. The need to be filled by him manifests as an aching urge deep inside of your core. He fulfills that need with another thrust, this one harder and surer.

And then he’s moving, in and out, his hips crashing against yours with an alluring smack each time. You moan, high and feminine, knowing he loves it while at the same time unable to help yourself at all.

“Yeah, Y/N, fuck ,” Austin says into the shell of your ear, low and husky. “You’re taking me so well. You like it when I fill you up, huh? You’re such a good girl. My filthy slut. Your pussy’s so wet for me.”

It’s as if you’re practically witnessing his dominant side coming out again, and you whimper, letting him take control completely. Austin seizes your wrists and pins them down on the seat above your head. Each thrust rocks the car and ripples out through the curves of your body.

“Fuck me harder, Austin,” you demand, and he complies, slamming into you with a new vigor. You see stars.

“I’m gonna come,” he moans, his voice thick.

“Come inside me,” you command.

“Fuck, I’m so close. I’m gonna fill you up with my come, baby girl.” The hands on your wrists tighten, and his thrusts become more and more erratic. “Fuck, oh fuck.”

“Come for me, Austin, don’t stop” you coax. And it’s all he needs before orgasming with three final thrusts. You can feel his member pulse as he releases inside of you. The strained gasps and moans that emit from his pink lips are heavenly sounds.

He collapses on top of you, panting. Hot wetness—yours and his—drips out of you. The tickling sensation of it running down your legs brings you closer and closer to another torrent of pleasure. You slip your hand from Austin’s grasp—easily now that he’s weakened—and bring your fingers to your clit. You hadn’t expected yourself to be so close to orgasming again, but you are. You rub yourself for just a few moments before you’re reaching the edge again. Austin’s so dazed that he can’t say anything, just presses his forehead against yours. Suddenly you’re twisting and moaning and tensing all over again, this time around Austin’s member, still deep inside of you.

“I could feel that,” Austin remarks as you collapse in a heap beneath him.

All you can manage is his name in a breathy, exhausted sigh. And he loves the sound of it, squeezing you even tighter in his arms.

“Fuck, Y/N, you’re so perfect. Oh my god. I'm so fucking happy I met you. I'm so glad you're in my life.”

You stroke his back gently as you whisper in his ear, "Me too, baby." 

He shudders atop of you, and you revel in the vulnerability he expresses with you, both in his words and in his position, being held so closely by you. You lie there in silence, Austin still on top of you and inside of you, for a few minutes. You look at the fogged-up car windows and start laughing.

“What is it?” he asks.

"Do you still want to go to this dinner party?" you giggle.

He smirks. "No one will know."

"I don't look like I just got fucked in the backseat of your car?"

He bites back a satisfied grin and brushes your hair from your face. "All I see is a lovely blush,” he says sweetly.

“But what about…?”

You look down at where he’s still deep inside you. He can’t hold back his grin at the sight, which is rather nefarious, and he slowly withdraws from you. You feel a stream of warm wetness seeping from deep inside you. With a start, you watch, mouth agape, as he crawls down your body to draw his tongue through the mess of your and his pleasure, licking all of it into his mouth and swallowing.

Oh my god. You moan his name, partly in disbelief at his ministrations, partly due to the sensitivity between your legs. When he’s done, he kisses both of your thighs and pulls your underwear back up your legs.

“Let’s go,” he says, zipping his trousers and smoothing down his shirt. “No one will be able to tell.”

❊ ❊ ❊ ❊ ❊ ❊ ❊ ❊ ❊ ❊

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it! Please note that I write fanfiction for free; my only request for repayment is a genuine expression of your thoughts, opinions, likes/dislikes, and predictions about the story. Whether it’s simply a “Wow, I loved it!”, a keyboard smash, a series of convoluted thoughts in the tags, or even a full-out review, please know that any and all feedback is welcome!

Much love ❤︎ from Juniper

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#austin butler #Austin butler x reader #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler imagine #smut #oneshot #fanfic #fanfiction #works by juniper #elvis 2022

[adriennebarnes]

Snuffles

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x Hispanic!Reader

Summary: witch reader makes a potion so she can be able to shapeshift into an animal but she forgot to tell anyone she was making this potion.

Warning: italics are going to be the readers inner thoughts

A/N:Yes, this is basically the Marauders turning into animagi BUT different steps, Masterlist pinned on my blog if you want more

It was a Saturday afternoon and Y/N was in the school’s conservatory brewing her potion. She had a vial with a strand of her hair, 5 drops of blood, and a mandrake leaf that is soaked in her saliva from being in her mouth for a week. She went outside the conservatory to find the pot she left in the field to collect the rain water she needed, she adds the rain water into the vial and the mixture turns into a pale red color. The last step was to say an incantation and cast it on the vial.

“Animoza Espinoza” Y/N said and the potion turned into a dark wine red color, signaling is ready drink. Y/N drank the potion while she was outside in the field, she felt a little tingly, and started to get shorter. That’s when Y/N checked her reflection in glass of the conservatory. Y/N has turned into a (your hair color) cocker spaniel (or a cavalier king charles spaniel, your choice. I chose spaniels because their eyes are the first thing you notice). Y/N was loyal to her friends, happy-go-lucky, outgoing, and trustworthy, all traits of a dog. Her favorite classic Disney movie was Lady and the Tramp, so it made sense that she was turned into a spaniel.

“Oh my god, it worked!” Y/N said, but it came out as little barks. Great, I can’t transform back now because my body needs to get used in its animal form before transforming back. So how do I get to my dorm if I am a lap dog? I’ll just go to the art shed, I’m sure Xavier is still painting something. Y/N is now on her merry way to the art shed with her ears flapping in the wind. When she made it to the art shed, she heard Chase Atlantic playing, meaning he was still in there. Y/N scratched at the door first but apparently Xavier couldn’t hear it so then Y/N howled. If he doesn’t open this door for me, I swear I’m going to kill him! Y/N heard Xavier turn the volume down so she bowled again. That’s when Xavier opened the door and Y/N did a little bark.

“Hey little guy…are you lost?” Xavier asked. Y/N barked and began scratching at his leg. Xavier decided to pick her up. “My bad, little lady, you’re lady.” Xavier said, checking Y/N’s anatomy. “You Don’t have a collar on you, do you, lady? Did you escape or something?” Xavier asked, placing her onto his table and looking into Y/N’s eyes, “Your eyes are so familiar to me, you got human like eyes, little lady.” Xavier said. Y/N started sniffing around Xavier’s work place. When she reached the strong smell of acrylic paint, she sneezed 5 times and then rubbed her nose with her paw. God, I hate my allergies. “You a sneezy little lady, huh? I’m gonna name you Snuffles, that okay with you?”

“Yes!” Y/N barked and she licked his nose when he got close to her.

“Aww, Well aren’t you friendly? Come on, let’s go to my dorm, you can meet my friend Ajax, he probably waiting for me to play video games.” Xavier said. He took a hoodie that was on his chair and wrapped Y/N around it, carrying her. “Don’t want you getting cold now do we.” He entered the building and started walking to his dorm and when he opened the door, Ajax was on Xavier’s bed.

“Hey man, how did it go in the art shed? Painted a new portrait of Y/N?” Ajax asked and Y/N immediately lifted her head. Como dices que dijiste, Xavier painting a portrait of me, why? “Aww, you got a puppy! He’s so cute.” Ajax said as soon as he saw Y/N.

“The dog is a she and yeah, I found her outside my art shed. She’s cute, isn’t she?” Xavier said, placing Y/N on his bed and watching her smell it. Damn Xavier, you really need to wash this comforter, o sea no manches, mi pobre nariz está sufriendo.

“She is. Did you name her?” Ajax asked as he went to pet Y/N. Okay, fine, you’re allowed to pet me, but no belly scratches, that is a line we both don’t want you to cross.

“Yeah, she was sneezing in the art shed so I named her Snuffles. Isn’t that right, Snuffles.” Xavier said in the voice you use to speak to babies and cute animals. Y/N’s tail started wagging as she left Ajax to go to Xavier, earning pets from him.

“So what are you going to do about Snuffles? Like does she have her vaccinations, where is she going to do her business, what is she going to eat?” Ajax asked. Y/N was staring at him,. “Don’t look at me like that! Xavier, I swear Y/N looks at me the same way when I say something stupid.” Xavier then takes a closer look at Y/N.

“I guess Snuffles does look like Y/N a bit. The same color eyes, same color hair, but Y/N has cute little beauty marks on her face, her smile is so pretty too.” Xavier said. Y/N was so happy she was a dog because if not, she would be blushing. But her tail is wagging right now.

“When are you going to ask Y/N out? I’m positive she likes you too!” Ajax said. Y/N then nudged her head against Xavier’s hand. “See? Even snuffles wants you to ask her out.”

“I’ll ask her out when I see her, okay. I got a little lady to take care of, don’t I Snuffles?” Xavier asked hypothetically and again, Y/N wagged her tail (whenever I talk to my dog in a baby voice, she wags her tail, but I think that’s normal for all dogs) “You’re going to sleep with me tonight, yes you are. But you need food. I’ll just give you my food.”

“Too much human food means an upset stomach, especially in small dogs.” Ajax stated, Y/N looked at him. How do you know that?

“How do you know that, Ajax?” Xavier asked.

“My sister has a shih tzu okay, I visit her sometimes.” Ajax said. (I believe Ajax would have older sisters and younger sisters, which is why he seems very sensitive)

“Okay fine, I’ll just give her some of my food when I’m eating, can’t be that bad.” Xavier said.

As the day went on, Y/N received pets from Xavier, Ajax, and Enid. Enid even knitted her a cute doggie sweater. Xavier took Y/N for a walk so she can do her businesses, cleaned up after her, it was a very good day.

“Alright Snuffles, it’s time to go to bed, little lady.” Xavier said said as he got into bed and made space for Y/N to so she can crawl under the covers. Omg, he’s so warm. Y/N snuggles against him, the next morning when Xavier woke up, he saw Y/N next to him on bed BUT she had her clothes on from yesterday. “Y/N? What are you doing here?” Xavier said as he moved her.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you, yesterday I made a potion so I can shapeshift into an animal! But it reflects my personality so I ended up being a small dog which apparently you loved so much. I would have shifted back to human but it’s better to stay in animal form until you control it.” Y/N said.

“So you heard me say everything when you were Snuffles?” Xavier asked.

“Yep! So yes Xavier, I like you a lot too, and I would love to go out with you.” Y/N said.

“Okay, that’s great. I am so calling you Snuffles all the time now though.” Xavier said and Y/N covered her face. “Aww, don’t be embarrassed Snuffles.”

“Stop it!” Y/N warned Xavier. Xavier just laughed and hugged her.

“Come on, let’s go get something to eat.” Xavier said getting up from the bed.

The End

#xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe #xavier thrope imagine #percy hynes white

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Life Is Short So Make It Sweet

Chapter Six: Will You Be Mine?

Summary- 8.7k Curtis Everett x Plus!Sized Reader. You ask if Curtis would like to do one of your favorite things- go pick out some pumpkins to start really embracing the Halloween season. Curtis and You get to enjoy being in one another's company which helps Curtis realize that he himself is ready for taking the next step in this relationship.

Warnings- Reader having personal internal debates about herself. Sexual activities. This is an 18+ Only Blog

A/N- Well there is no hiding that Curtis and Reader are going to be intimate in this chapter and frankly I'm excited for them to have reached this far in their growing relationship. It's been a journey already writing for these two. Thank you so much to everyone reading, commenting, and reblogging. Just reading your thoughts gives me so much joy, especially when someone just finds something they relate to. Thank you so much @what-is-your-plan-today for editing my work and dropping your thoughts before posting. Moodboard at the end was made by @xxindiglow. (Which I love so much, thank you!) Dividers made by @firefly-graphics.

Chapter Five / Masterlist

“Okay scarf, check. Jacket. Mhm. Papers…” Doing a mental checklist at your desk while gathering your stuff, Claude popped in your classroom with a loud sigh of relief. 

“Listen, TGIF, am I right?!” She perched on one of the students desks while you grabbed your kids' latest homework assignments and put them in your bag. “What are your big plans this weekend?” 

You closed your bag and took one last scan to make sure you had everything. “Well Curtis and I are going out Saturday for the day, so tonight I’m just at home with netflix and grading papers. What about you?” 

Claude gave a smirk and wiggled her brows. “How about Y/N, you come out with us tonight and Sunday you can grade those? Please? It’s been much too long.” She pleaded with a flutter of her lashes and clasped her hands together like in a prayer. “It sounds like Curtis isn't stealing you away tonight.” 

“No, he is doing a dart tournament tonight, his friend signed him up without knowing about it.” You chuckled as you shouldered your bag, considering Claude's offer. “Sure, just text me where you want to meet up.” 

“Sounds like a girls' night to me.” Claude got up to follow you out. This time you were sure you would have a way to properly get yourself home. Last time you had gotten lucky that Curtis happened to be at the bar that night, but you didn’t want to be unprepared again. 

Curtis bustled into Paulie’s with a muttered ‘Hey’ to his old friend at the bar. Edgar saw him from across the room and waved him over. Paul immediately handed a cold beer over to Curtis with a tip of his head towards the darts. 

“Kid has been yammering for the past hour about this.” 

Curtis chose this moment to take a long drink, get himself started on that buzz he was probably gonna need for this sudden tournament Edgar signed him up for. “Keep these coming Paul.” He motioned to his beer before approaching his friends. Curtis eyed the other team, who were indeed wearing matching shirts. A glance at Edgar showed he had not gone that far yet, but it was only a matter of time until he made some. 

“Are you ready Buddy?” Edgar said excitedly as he gathered the three of them around a small table. “We are going to kick ass.” 

Grey, in an effort to reel Edgar back in, responded with a gentle reminder. “In a good sportsman-like way.” 

“Yeah of course. But… I got some money on this, so we gotta give it our best shot.” Edgar shot a look at the group they were going up against. Curtis shrugged out of his coat and pulled off his beanie to hang them off the back of a chair.  

“Do I even wanna know how much you put on this game?” Grey questioned. 

“Or who you even got to bet with you?” Curtis countered while Edgar pulled out a box and popped it open to find a brand new set of darts. 

“A little incentive present to do your best, because we are the best. And Paul is taking bets if you guys wanna place some. Good chance to earn a few extra bucks.” 

Curtis gave it some thought, they were pretty good at this game. “I could use some extra cash.” He left the table to wander over to Paul, pulling out his wallet and handing him some bills. The barkeeper promptly tucked it away and marked the total in a notebook he had on him. 

“If you guys win, you are looking to make a good profit.” 

“That's the plan.” Curtis slipped his wallet away and Paul leaned against the bar having a lull moment. 

“You know, we have a big back yard behind this bar. This summer I’m thinking of doing an axe throwing stand if there is enough interest. You look like someone who can chuck an axe.” 

“I don't know, never tried, but I would be willing.” Curtis gave a nod, Paulie grinned wide with enthusiasm. 

“Good! Spread the word, I want this to be the summer hangout this year. With you guys willing to play in competition, I already have the darts on lockdown in downtown.” 

Curtis flashed him a thumbs up while pulling away from the bar, digging out his phone on his way back to the table to see Honey highlighted. 

Kick ass and take names tonight. 

He paused at the table, sitting on one of the high stools while typing out. You sound like Edgar now. 

Edgar and I could be on a team then. We would win it for ya 💪

Hmm, that's an idea. You all do the work, I can reap the benefits. I did put money on this game. 

See, more incentive to win then. 

Edgar came over, pushing the brand new darts towards Curtis. “You ready?” 

“Sure, give me a second. Just texting my girl.” 

Edgar got a sly grin hearing Curtis. “Oooh, now it's ‘my girl’. Wait till I tell Tanya.” 

“You’re a fucking idiot.” Curtis muttered while finishing up. See you in the morning, be safe out tonight. Need anything give me a call. 

I should be fine, I was sure to have my own car this time and not get stranded like last time… although it seemed to work out pretty good for me. Got myself a dart throwing, truck driving, steady job boyfriend… 

Curtis laughed reading your message. No complaints here Honey. How else was I gonna get me a Pretty Girl on my arm, all respectable and shit being a teacher? Have fun. Putting his phone away, he grabbed the darts. “Are we playing or what?” 

Saturday morning had you up excitedly, thankful for not suffering a hangover that you were sure Claude would be nursing. This time she stuck around with you for the night although she got rather drunk and kept promising she wasn’t leaving you again. During that rant, you assured her that it was okay, and last time you were perfectly fine. You were able to get her back home all in one piece and inside to bed. Before leaving, you raided her medicine shelf in the bathroom for aspirin and a tall glass of water to leave on her nightstand. You had yet to get a text from her, not really expecting one for a few hours still. 

But for you, you had plans that a hangover would have ruined. Curtis had been sure to inform you that he would be picking you up in the morning as soon as you had told him how you wanted to start properly getting ready for Halloween. While you were dressing, you kept an eye out the window for his truck as well as your phone for a message from him. As soon as he pulled into the apartments’ lot, you grabbed your coat and headed down the stairs, your mood turning giddy.  

You exited the apartment complex sporting a scarf around your neck and tying the front of your coat closed. You looked so enthusiastic that Curtis couldn't help but break out in a smile of his own. “Well someone is excited.” He made it around the truck fast enough to pop open the door for you and you pressed a kiss to his bristled cheek, his hand fell on your waist to guide you into the truck so you could settle in the seat. 

“I missed out doing this the last couple of years.” You bubbled with excitement, which was infectious as Curtis leaned against your open door, basking in it. “I’m just happy you agreed to go with me.” It had been the right call seeing just how genuinely happy doing this made you, he would have agreed to anything at that moment just to see that smile of yours. “I said I wanted to get pumpkins and you were all for it.”

“Well, there is a first for everything.”

In the middle of buckling in, you twisted in your seat to face him just before he could get the door closed. “You never did all this?” Your brows arched up high, your quizzical look making him hide a laugh, although you could see the way his eyes crinkled in the corners, unable to hide that away. 

“Well a first for me in many years, Honey. I did always make sure to have some candy on the porch steps for the kids though.” 

Your hand reached out to brush against his cheek, giving a sigh as your palm cupped against his bristled cheek. You put on a sympathetic smile as if he didn’t know what he was getting into with you. “Oh Curtis, well that is about to change.” 

Now that made him laugh out loud. “I’m looking forward to it Y/N.”  

You had googled the best place to go, which took the two of you out of the city area and a few towns over. The drive was quick, with you both admiring the scenery, the road leading you along the great lakes’ shore line, passing little lakeside camps and docks that you took note of for the future explorations. When you arrived, the GPS took you right through the town’s mainstreet, which you admired the quaint little town with a wistful desire. “I always wanted to live in a little place like this. I don't know, it always just feels like a family kind of place, you know.” 

“It’s so much smaller than Duluth.” Curtis admitted as they bypassed what looked like a mom and pop gas station, an old church in the center of town, a town garage with junk cars scattered around it, and lots of homes in various stages. “I wouldn’t mind living in a place like this.” The GPS had the truck turn up some old dirt road outside of the town, requiring them to slow down and really admire the landscape. 

You thought about what he said, considering where he was living now. “Would you want to sell your grandparents?” 

Curtis was quiet for a moment thinking about your question. “I know the place needs a lot of work and its just outside of the city but no. It was my family home, basically Ella’s. We have all our memories there, I’m not ready to let all that go. Maybe, if I had my own family- wife and kids, I would feel different?” He shrugged a shoulder and then glanced at you with some concern. “God I didn’t freak you out did I?” 

Anything but, you found all that sentimental feeling really endearing. “Not at all. I think it’s really nice that you get to live there. As you said, that’s where you grew up, it’s always been your home. One of the few things I still appreciate about going back to New York is that my parents’ house feels like going home.” You admitted and he reached over to take your hand, giving a slight squeeze. 

“Was it a big deal for you, coming all the way out here?” 

You glanced down at his hand wrapped around yours, it was large, swallowing yours. Callouses were rough against your softer skin, but not in a biting way that made you want to retreat. In the past much softer, but equally strong hands made you pull back all the time. No, you wanted to feel his touch trail against your sensitive parts, making you chase after him with a plea for more. The flutters in your chest made you feel light and airy in the moment. You've had held his hand plenty of times now, but it still made you feel excitement and overall safe. “Yeah, it was. I had never moved this far before. But it was time, I was just kind of drifting in life at that point having just split up and when I was offered the teaching job at Mason’s I took it.” You tilted your head back against the seat, thinking about that time, hard to think of it as less than a year ago now, but it felt like a lifetime. “Jade was so proud of me, been telling me I needed to leave. Kept offering me to come live with her and her boyfriend, Frank, in Florida but they didn’t need me imposing on them.” 

Curtis offered another glance at you, a crease in his brow with concern. “Don’t get me wrong Honey, I’m glad you came this way. But how would you be imposing?” 

You fought the urge to wipe away that worried line in his brow. His focus going back to manoeuvring the truck along the dirt road. “Jade likes to play mother hen. She feels the need to fix things. It can be overbearing at times.” 

“Ahh, okay I get that. Ella feels sometimes she can run my life better than I can. Before meeting you, she was always trying to set me up on dates.” 

You smirked in response. “Well good thing I came around then, that just sounds… so awful for you.” 

Curtis rolled his eyes, huffing at your cheeky answer. “It was when she basically threatened to put me on a dating app after the last few failed dates she set me up on.” He narrowed his eyes at you. “Don’t get me wrong Honey, all the ladies were lovely people. It just wasn’t something I wanted.” 

You let that sink in, just as you had suspected, Curtis had no problem finding himself dates. Apparently Ella had basically been setting him up with perfectly nice eligible women. But he bypassed all of them. Until he met you. 

He chose you. 

The GPS on your phone chimed, making you glance down at it and breaking you out of your thoughts, an excited grin breaking out. “It should be-” You glanced around out the windshield trying to catch some sight of this farm you had seen online. “-around this corner.” You said as he bypassed a barn and sure enough once you turned the corner, there was a stand all set up with fields of orange, white and green pumpkins stretching around it. At the stand it appeared to be loaded with baked goods, jars of canned goods and a hot drink station. You shut off the GPS system to keep it from announcing that you had arrived at your destination. 

You had that same expression on your face of pure joy as before. Earlier in the week you said that this is where your “dorkiness” is going to be bad, but Curtis wouldn't have changed a thing about how happy you were. For him it was another part of you he got to enjoy.  “So how many pumpkins are we bringing back with us?” Curtis asked you as you two left the truck and started to wander into the field.  

“Mmmh, I want at least three. One for my apartment, I'm carving one for your porch because you have the most perfect porch to decorate and it's a shame to let it go to waste.” You weaved your fingers with his and he shook his head at you. 

“What am I gonna do with a pumpkin?” he gave your hand a slight squeeze in return.

“You light it up Curtis. It looks nice, Halloween- like.” You paused to check out one particularly orange one. “Then I want a small one for my desk at school.” 

“You really do love all this.” He observed, which had you nodding while leaning over to half roll one over, looking it over. To him it looked perfect, which seemed to have no interest for you.  

“Absolutely, its my favorite time of year.” Bypassing that one, you two moved onto another. When you rolled it, you deemed it perfectly imperfect with its mishappen body and varying coloring of orange making it look speckled. “I want this one.”

Curtis took out a small blade from a pouch on his belt and flicked it open to cut the stem, gathering it up in his arm to carry back to the front. You kept looking around, picking out a few more of varying sizes. The longer you stayed, the more people came with their families. While you were wandering the field, Curtis having brought a couple more to the front with your first choice, you started helping others pick out the perfect ones for them as well. 

Curtis got to see you just enjoying yourself without any inhibitions. You started helping some kids pick some out and talking animatedly with the parents. You seemed to notice Curtis was no longer at your side and paused halfway through the field, turning to look over your shoulder to see where he was, and as soon as you saw him, you smiled. Just for him.  

When your eyes locked onto his, it was just like he was once more seeing you get off that bus, a warm energy that made him crave to bask in your presence, wanted to spend all his time wrapped up in you. 

So that's exactly what he went to do. 

You two finished with a final stop at the stand. Curtis stood behind you with his arms wrapped around you while you chose a few things to bring home as well as the pumpkins you chose- bags of frosted sugar cookies in the shapes of autumn leaves and pumpkins, fresh cider donuts and a couple jars of jam and apple butter. You also got to go cups to make yourselves something hot to drink before heading back home. 

Settling with making both of you coffee while Curtis loaded up the back of the truck with the pumpkins you chose, he even relented and got a few extra so you could decorate his porch how you wanted, you two started for home once more. Curtis was grateful for the hot coffee and on the ride home you shared a donut with him, offering him sugared bites from your fingers that he was sure to suck the sugar off your fingertips a time or two,  teasing the sugar off your fingertips with the tip of his tongue. 

Opting to stop at Paulie’s before going back to your apartment to unwind, you two were able to get seats at the bar where Paul was sure to wave at the two of them, signalling Curtis to come around. “Come make yourself useful Everett.” 

“I'm here on a date?” Curtis countered as he yanked off his jacket. “You don't even pay me to do this.” 

“I give you plenty of free beers. My help comes in twenty minutes. Just cut me some slack. Y/N doesn't care, do ya?” Paul asked with a desperate note in his tone, like having Curtis on the other side of the bar would save him. 

You gave a shake of your head and Curtis glared at you, making you grin at him and nudge him. “Go get me a beer stud.” 

“Right away Ma’am.” He huffed and playfully squeezed at your hip before making his way around to the other side of the bar. “What can I get ya?” 

“Hmmm, anything you recommend.” You gathered his coat and hat off his old seat and pulled them across your lap to free up the bar since it was getting busier. Curtis turned around to glance at the shelf of stuff Paul had on hand. Picking up a bottle of Jack Daniels, he poured you both a shot. “That’s certainly not a beer Curtis. You trying to get me drunk?” You grabbed yours and held it up, clinking it with his and tipped it back all to once that left you licking your lips afterward, your face scrunching just a bit from the burn. 

Curtis saw you take that challenge without any hesitation and damn it was hot how you tilted your head back to shoot the liquor between your sweet tempting lips. He didn't take his eyes off you the whole time he took his own. “Better then beer Honey, hits just right.” He winked while he set the bottle near you. “Keep the bottle, Paul said it was on the house.” 

“Not the whole bottle Curtis!” Paul shouted from across the bar and you poured yourself another, not nearly as full but enough to burn still in the best way while it was going down. Curtis winked at you as he moved away, starting to take drink orders. 

This was the first time you saw him behind the bar. He had a knack for it, pulling out bottles and unscrewing the tops to flick them into a bucket nearby. Curtis easily chatted with customers, and you started to see him yet another side of him. These were regulars you assumed, he knew their names, asking about theirspouses, how the kids were doing or how work was going for them. Often his eyes would dart from where he was making drinks to check in that you were all okay amongst all that was going on, 

You thoughts wandered to how you once thought his eyes were icy blue when you first met? You were so wrong. They were vibrant and made your heart skip a beat whenever he made eye contact. 

Not for the first time you were getting turned on just watching him. The longer you did the more you wanted to bring him home and explore what was under that black tee shirt he was wearing and run your hands on his bare chest and feel him fuck you right into your mattress. Or couch, whichever you two ended up making it to first. The thought alone made you squeeze your thighs together as your panties started to stick to you, selfishly wishing for yourself that maybe tonight was the night you both would be ready. 

Curtis wandered back down to where you were squirming in your seat, moving to lean on his elbows and hover closer to you. His eyes had a playful look to them, the corner of his mouth uplifted looking at you. “Can’t believe you are all alone down here. Let this lonely fellow buy you a drink?” 

You leaned forward, whispering in a conspiracy. “My date will be back any second. He is six’ four and intimidating as hell. You better watch yourself mister.” 

Curtis huffed, his chest puffing out slightly. “I can take him, his punk ass aint got nothing on me.” 

You let your eyes rake over him suggestively, warmth shooting straight to your core. “You're really confident and that is sexy as fuck. I will let you buy me a drink.” 

He didn't know if it was the couple shots of Jacks you took or something else, but the suggestive tug of your bottom lip between your teeth and the sultry glances you have been giving had him on edge. But it was just the start on top of so many other things that made Curtis want more with you. In the time he had known you, you’d become part of his happiness and he wanted to explore what that could mean for him and for you as well. He had seen glimmers of sadness from you in passing, when you seemed to recall something from before and it struck him in a way no one else had ever done so. Overall, he wanted to be the one to replace those memories with better ones. Ones with him.  

So he was ready he decided to see where the next step in this relationship would take the two of you. As he picked out a beer for you and you brushed your hands against his, your sweet lips wrapping around that bottle, well a man can only handle so damn much. “Once you finish that, wanna head out?” 

You enthusiastically nodded and tilted your head back, the beer going down a lot quicker. “Fuck.” Curtis muttered to himself in awe at the way you were downing that bottle. He looked over at Paul. “A'ight headed out.” 

Paul gave him a thumbs up and then Curtis came out from behind the bar and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you beside him. “Wait, wait…” You juggled his coat in your arms and twisted back to your seat, grabbing the bottle of Jack. “Thanks Paul!” You shouted out, waving the mostly full bottle for him to see. 

“Hey! I told you guys can’t have the whole bottle!” 

“Consider it my payment Paul.” Curtis held the door open and you ducked out with your prize, laughing. 

Back at your apartment doorway, Curtis had you pinned against it, hands to your hips, his body flush against yours as he kissed you feverishly, tilting his head to nip at your jaw and you giggled out at the sensation. The door was nice, but tonight you wanted more. And hoped Curtis would too. 

“Curtis, wait…” You whimpered out as he was working a particular sensitive spot near your ear that was making you rub against him. Your hand cupped the back of his head as he lifted away from you, pupils blown almost black in his own arousal. “Do you want to stay the night?” Your eyes searched his, hoping for that yes and fearful of the rejection you always were half expecting, even when you knew better that voice still taunted you.

He will never want you Y/N.

Curtis knew his answer, known it basically all damn day he has been with you. He let his hands travel up your body and cup your face, kissing you once more, leaving you breathless. “Yes, I'm not ready for today to end Honey.” 

Your hand fell along the door behind you and with a twist of the doorknob, you both fell into your apartment, the door slamming heavily behind the two of you. 

Once inside Curtis pulled you in close, backing you into the nearest wall as his mouth went back to flushing kisses up your neck, your jawline to the corner of your mouth. “Bedroom?” He asked and you nodded, pulling on his t shirt that you admired so much earlier to pull it off over his head. You had been daydreaming about his big broad chest since you met in the freight yard, wanting nothing more than to rub your hands against him and explore him. That night at his place when you got to see him in his tank, you caught a glimpse of what was underneath, muscled pecs, a dark scattering of hair leading to his belly when his shirt was ridden up, some tattoos that you desperately want to explore.

What you weren't expecting was how intricate some of these tattoos covering his chest were as you dropped the offending tee on the floor of your living room. Your eyes went wide as you pulled back to see how far down he went with that ink, your hands spanning over his chest, giving a small breathy ‘Oh.’ Intricate designs scattered across him, some of them forming symbols that you had seen in his books that he read. Your fingers splayed over them, sliding up to where his medallion rested against the center of his chest. The chain was long, your fingers curling in the metal as you look up at him wide eyed. 

“You like?” He arched a brow curiously, his hands settling on your hips, fingers flexing against your curves like they were all that was keeping him in check right now. 

“Very Curtis, I plan on exploring them very thoroughly. Later.” You gave a tug on that chain, dragging him back to you and your tongue licking into his mouth. Curtis groaned into it, shifting his hands to clasp your ass and further down to the back of your thighs. It completely caught you by surprise when he lifted you, your legs being pulled around his waist and you were sure your thick thighs were crushing his slim waist. “Curtis!” He smirked as he pulled you off the wall and you clung to him. “You can’t just carry me!” 

“I can, and I will, easily.” He went into your bedroom and lowered you to your bed, crawling over the top of you and continuing once again where he left off with you. Nipping at your neck while pulling your top up and over your head to drop beside the bed, your hands went to his belt to start to unbuckle it. “I don’t wanna be hearing I can’t carry around my girl when I want to.” 

Your hands worked his belt and button open before grabbing at the waist of his jeans to push them down, digging your nails into his taunt ass and pressing down to grind him against you. “What did you just call me?” 

His fingers skated down your sides almost teasingly while he dragged his beard against your collarbone, the soft moments his lips touched your skin a soothing balm against the burn he left behind. The coolness of his chain dragging against your made you shiver with the anticipation. Curtis spread loving kisses across the tops of your breasts spilling out the top of your bra, fingers dipping into the band of the pants you were wearing. “My girl.” He lifted his head to look at you. Blue eyes imploring. 

My girl, did you want to be his? His hands felt like he was worshiping you, his mouth exploring the taste of your skin, trying to draw out your moans as his own personal hymn. There was a hopeful look in his eyes, that your next answer could make him a blessed man. Curtis made it so fucking easy to want to be his and it was something you actually desperately wanted. So saying yes… 

Well that would be easy. 

“I want to be that Curtis.” 

He broke in a grin, his whole face lightening up as he surged forward to catch a kiss. You arched up to reach him while his hand dipped against your back and a twist of his fingers had the clasp of your bra releasing. Pulling away from you, he sat back on his heels. Curtis hooked a finger under your bra straps to pull them down, letting your bra fall away. “You're so beautiful Honey.” 

You scrunch your nose up at him, heated doubt tickling in the back of your mind, and making you twist your mouth. Although your bedroom was dark, he was able to see you enough still and that made you nervous of exactly how much he really was able to see of you. Your hands suddenly didn't know where to go, or what to do. You suddenly wished your bra was still there, covering you in a way that made you pleasing to look at. Your body was being exposed layer by layer and you didn’t quite have a place to hide your imperfections anymore. Your rolls would show, the flab on your arms would jiggle when you lifted them to reach for Curtis, your thighs cellulite would dimple in a way that you dreaded Curtis even noticing, your breasts not having support wouldn’t stay the perfect round shape that the bras support could give, how your stomach drooped lower then it should. Why did you agree to this? Especially with Curtis looking like a god above you. Even in his small imperfections he looked like some kind of rugged model while you couldn’t even offer him sexy imperfections. 

You were soft everywhere and your body carried the scars littering across your skin in stretch marks.

Weakly you covered yourself, shaking your head a bit. You weren’t beautiful, you just weren't and he was going to look at you and see that truth any second now. 

Curtis witnessed the way his words just struck you, a whiplash of some kind. He reached for your wrists, circling his fingers around to tug gently. “Y/N, look at me.” He shifted upwards a bit, pressing your hands back to his chest, his arm holding him up while hovering over you. “You are up in your head right now, I need you here with me.” 

Imploring eyes made you look at him and you took a breath to help shut the thoughts up. You were so tense under him that when you relaxed, you sunk a little further into the mattress. Your hands started exploring him again, brushing through the thick mat of dark hair sprinkled on his chest to twirl a finger around a pink nipple. Glided over a softer belly that had a line of dark hair leading down into his now loosened pants. “I’m with you Curtis.” You said loud enough for the both of you, an assurance for both of you perhaps.

The ghosting of your fingers was a blessed tease to say the least, but Curtis held himself in check as you loosened back up, just as he thought, you had started thinking too much about unsaid fears when all he wanted was for you to touch him, to start taking what you wanted and not concern yourself with what he was thinking. Your thumb pressed against the lines cutting against his pelvis, leading down till your fingers curled over the bulge at the front of his pants. “Fuck Honey, see what you do to me? Drive a man crazy.” 

You squeezed him, all wide eyed wonders gazing up at him as he groaned with a dip of his head back to you to tease your lips all while rocking his hips enough to press his hard on against you. “No one’s ever told me that before.” 

“Well I'm never gonna shut up about it.” A hand curved around your hip and slid up to cup one of your breasts, squeezing his palm against you as he pressed his mouth open to the top of it, sucking on the supple flesh, press of teeth leaving a bit of a mark and then a soothing caress of tongue, you let your head fall back with closed eyes to let the feeling of him over take you. 

He glanced up from where he had his mouth lay claim to your nipple, quick flicks soon had you hard and sensitive, clutching at his shoulders while your back arched to give him more of you, which fed his greediness. He didn't just want more, he wanted all. A rush of kisses across heated skin left you shivering when the air chilled your now thoroughly loved breasts. Between his hands and his mouth, you never felt so consumed by a man. “I could just love on you all fucking day.” He growled as he pulled back further, his chin dragging down the center of your body, even as his hand still massaged against your breast, rubbing your pebbled nipple to escape between his fingers till he dragged a massive palm back over them, making you whine. “You fit in my hands so good Y/N.” 

Here was where you were grateful for the darkness in the room, as much as you would love to see how blown his vibrant expressive eyes were or the swollen bottom lip peeking from the dark beard covering half his face, you weren’t ready to sacrifice him being able to view you to closely. Maybe he wouldn’t notice the stretch marks covering your belly, the overhang of your lower belly or the pudge of your mound that you always felt was unattractive. In the dark of your bedroom you might be able to hide this from to close inspection. 

A touch to your hip, a slight squeeze that dragged you out of your thoughts. Causing you to lift your head, you could see enough of Curtis to tell that he was close to you, listening to the catch in your breaths. His fingers curved into the band of your pants and panties to start easing them down, his breaths hot as he got closer to your more intimate areas. “Curtis…” Your voice hitched with uncertainty while he eased your pants off, first one leg, then the other. He pressed his touch in your softer inner thighs, seeming to appreciate the plushness and heat that was there, the way he had to press against them to spread them apart as they quivered in anticipation. You felt your pussy ache, a wet rush making you practically drip your essence because of this man. 

He kissed the fleshy part of your hip, humming in question to you. “Do you want me to stop?” He was willing to, if you were not okay with this. But Curtis ached for you, wanted to feel every inch of you in his hold. Curtis was patient, and he kept his touch away from your core till you told him that you were ready. 

“No, I'm just… god I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm like this.” You stammered out. Your hands going to the back of his head and scratching lightly at his scalp. 

Curtis wasn't upset by any means, it was understandable to be nervous for your first time together and he lifted himself enough so you could meet his eyes. “Deep breath Honey and you tell me what you like as I do it.” Gripping your chin, he pulled you up enough to kiss you, his tongue stroking yours till you melted into him, going breathless. 

“I liked that.” You teased him which made him give a chuckle while he moved to a stand and reaching in his pocket pulled out a couple condoms to place nearby on the bed. 

“In case we need them. And that is good to know you like to be kissed. I have to say it makes me feel fucking mindless wanting you when you kiss me.” He shucked his pants down, along with his boxers. You wished you could see his erection, having felt how thick he was through his sweats when you two grinded together on his couch. You could see enough to tell that it was curling up towards his belly as he stroked it a couple of times, settling back on the bed and moving back over you. You let your thighs spread for him to settle in close to you, his thumb now stroking that soft pudgy spot of your mound, dragging the pad of his thumb down to your slit. 

Here you gasped, tugging your bottom lip in between your teeth when his fingers found that spot. That bundle of nerves that make your toes curl and your core ache with need. Your slick pooling just for his calloused touch. His thick fingers felt so much better than yours just stroking you. “Keep talkin’ to me Honey.” A voice rumbled against your belly, once more the drag of his beard set you alight. 

“Right there Curtis, I need-” Now that you were slick, aching for more, he let a finger press against your opening, pulling him in with a tight clamp. Velvet walls kept tightening around him. You didn’t expect him to be like this, make you this aching for him but here you were squirming on the bed, trying to keep a straight line of thought. 

Curtis knew what you needed, driving the words right from your mind as he stretched you, adding another to stroke your velvet walls. “- Oh you are so thick.” You moaned out, grabbing onto his biceps to keep yourself grounded while you started squirming underneath him, building up to your crashing moment. 

The cold of his chain bounced off your thighs, deep praises falling from him. “Just like that Sweet Girl, fuck look at you just opening for me.” Fingers buried deep in you started spreading you, scissoring in and out. He wanted to taste, drive his tongue through you but when he bit lightly on your mound, preparing to press his mouth to you, you tensed, your voice going in that panicked choked squeak. 

“No wait…” You tugged on his arms till he rose back up, tilting his head in question. “Um- I can’t-” You panted and Curtis slowed his touch, letting the aching sensations dull in your belly. 

“We don’t have to do that Y/N.” He assured you. You moved to your elbows and grabbed a condom to peel it open. 

“Can we do this instead?” You offered and Curtis sucked his fingers clean once he left your clenching core, making you hear him clearly as he sucked your essence right off his fingers. You couldn't recall ever hearing anything hotter in your life as his drenched fingers slipped into his mouth and he gave a deep hungry sounding groan at the taste of your slick. Another rush escaped you at that moment. 

“Fuck, I’m all for that.” He said as you pulled yourself up a bit more to slide the condom on him. He was built, more than you were expecting, but yet you shouldn't be too surprised- this man did just lift you up and carry you, something you were still trying to wrap your mind around. 

Right now it was about watching what little you could see of Curtis’s reaction to your touch, the sweep of your hand up and down his shaft, the sudden way he tensed right before your eyes and then rocked into you for the friction your palm made. His hand closed around yours, showing you how he liked to be squeezed around slightly, easing your thumb to circle around his red thick tip and tightening his hold when the thick vein throbbed under your fingers. “Honey, you gotta get that condom on me, I need to be inside of you.” His tone was deep and edging on desperate now. Just maybe you had similar effects on him that he had on you. “I promise you can explore all you want, however you want later.” 

“Oh, yes, of course.” You squeaked, having been distracted momentarily in your exploring, Curtis just felt so good in your hands. You pinched the tip of the condom and started to roll and stretch the rubber around him before laying back. He dropped himself over you, reaching between the two of you to slide his thick head between your folds, sure to tap against your clit and make you jolt at the excited anticipation racing through you, spreading your legs wider for him. Once more his necklace bounced against your chest, making you grab it and pull him down to meet your mouth, sliding your tongue to meet his while he started to press himself into you, stretching you to fit. 

Your legs pulled up and pressed against his side, Curtis could have blown a load just feeling you pull him into you, squeezing so tightly around him that he actually gave a choked grunt against your lips. He shared air with you, panting slightly as he grunted, flexing his ass and pushing in just a little deeper, just a little more as you rolled your eyes up to flutter a bit, your nails tightening in pleasure against his shoulders at how good just the drag of his cock into your slick core felt to you. “Fuck, you are gripping me so good Honey.” He reached for a hand, weaving his fingers with your and pining it back above your head. 

You immediately let go of his shoulders and returned the gesture, this time reaching for his hold. “You feel so good. Curtis you gotta move, I need you.” 

It was a slow movement at first, Curtis pulling out and easing back in. But each time, you were slick and fit around him like you were made just for him, and he started to move faster, determined to find your sweet spot to hear one of those moans you were holding inside. Sex, well sex always felt good. But this, it was edging on something more than sex, he wasn’t trying to get the two of you to end for the feel good moment that was satisfying. 

With you, he wanted you to just feel good and that possessive part of him got to know he was the one that gave it to you, over and over and over. He didn’t even care at this point if he finished.

It was when Curtis angled slightly that he slid himself just right and you cried out his name in just the way he had been looking for. A cry that was just for him, his name sounded sweet and desperate right now. “There you go Sweetheart, fuck- shit you just keep squeezing me like that.” He assured you when a tremble of ecstasy vibrated you. Your fingers clenched at his hand while legs lifted to cross your ankles at the small of his back to push him back into you. 

“Good Girl.” He groaned against your neck as he pushed back into you, pumping faster and harder, aiming for just that spot that made you gasp and repeat his name like a manta. “You're perfect for me.” He nudged at you till you twisted your mouth to meet his, shuddering as you kissed him with an air of desperation that pleaded him to shatter you just so he could drag your frayed pieces back together, maybe someone you desired to be. 

“Curtis, I need to, please.” You stuttered out and Curtis felt his balls tighten hearing you plead with him to finish you. He let go of one hand, squeezing a breast and tilting his head to suck on your soft suppleness, dragging a hot tongue to send pleasure through your body when he sucked on your nipple, immediately your free hand went to the back of his neck to keep him pressed close. Tingle of anticipation went up Curtis' spine, you were close and he was too now, but you had to come first.  

Dropping his hand to where he fucked into you, a finger twisted against your sensitive swollen bud to have you clamping down hard on him, your thighs quivering in a strain and that release flooded you with so much pleasure that you locked around him, biting on his shoulder to muffle yourself, causing a satisfied hiss to escape him. 

Chasing his own ending turned sloppy now that you came for him, tendons popped from his neck and his shoulders bunched together as he hunched over you, gathering you in close to him as he crashed into you several times till he shuddered in your arms He pitched forward to bury his face in the crook of your neck, gasping out the last air in his lungs to a deep groan that seem to come from the very pit of his stomach. You felt it shudder through you as you were still floating in a daze. 

Your hand that was still free from his grasp loosened from the back of his neck to scratch lightly at the back of his head and down to the knots in his shoulder from his release, he was still hunched over you, cocooning you to him like he refused to let there be space between the two of you. Refusing to let you go or push away from him. Not that you wanted to, your relished feeling him press you under him, like he couldn’t bear the thought of you pulling away from him just yet. . 

But slowly he loosened with a groan, his weight sinking on you to keep you pinned beneath him. You could hear him catching his breath, heated huffs against the shell of your ear. You valued the feeling of him around you, the intimacy of sharing each other left you unwilling to give it up just yet. Curtis sighed as he let his hold on your hand above your head loosen, shifting it down to wrap around you, hugging you tighter to his chest while he burrowed in against your neck, giving another groan. “I wanted to hold out, but fuck you were just too good to be with.” He admitted as he started to shift. 

“You don't have to move Curtis.” A small panic rose in your chest at the loss of contact, uncalled for at the moment but you couldn’t stop. It had him shushing you softly while he pulled out, pressing a reassuring kiss to your forehead. 

“I will be back.” He moved away to peel the rubber off, trying to be as quick as possible so you weren’t left alone for long. You heard running water for a few moments in your bathroom down the hallway before he came back to sit on the edge of the bed. “Is this okay?” He let the warm washcloth brush against your thigh, asking permission before he continued to clean you up. 

How in the hell was he possibly real and in your bed?

You spread your thighs open in invitation and he was careful in his touch, whispering a sorry whenever he felt you wince slightly. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” 

“No, no not at all Curtis.” You assured him as he finished. Sure you might have been a little sore, but all of it had been quite welcome. Your ex, nor your toys quite had what Curtis had.

It wasn’t long before Curtis joined you back in your bed, flopping to his back and patting his belly. “Co’mere.” You shifted over to his side, assuming he wanted to spoon but soon found that wasn't what he meant. Curtis literally wanted you on him, pulling against the curve of your ass and down to your thigh, he easily maneuverered you to straddle him. 

You did your best to hover over him, reluctant to relax on him. “Y/N, relax. I promise it's okay.” He stroked your hips and pulled you down to rest on him, your hands sliding up and down his chest with a light scrape of your nails, marvelling at the sensation of his muscles under you “Just wasn't ready to let you go just yet.” You eased down to lay yourself on his chest, going to trace what you guessed were wings on his chest, thanks to the dim light he had left on in the bathroom. “Thank you Y/N.” 

You lifted your head curiously, tilting your head in question. “For what Curtis?” 

“For letting me be with you.” A finger traced the side of your face to gently grasp your chin and pull you back up to him to give a kiss to your lips. “I got the feeling it’s not always easy for you to trust like that.” 

You smiled at his words and pulled up to a sit in order to inspect some of the tattoos scattered across his chest. “Not always easy, but I like you Curtis, really like you. You made it so…” You stalled, your mouth twisting in how you wanted to say it. How he pulled you from your doubts and worries, how you never had to guess what he was thinking, just from his touch like he couldn't get enough, his eyes that never wavered or looked away from you, and his constant words saying what he was thinking. “Different. Not like anything I’ve ever experienced before. I felt like you kept me with you in the moment.” 

You went fiddling with his chain, lifting it up to look at the small medallion hanging off the end of it. “Yeah well when I got a woman like you giving me such a gift…” He gave a sigh and broke in an almost boyish grin. You rolled your eyes at him as he clicked his tongue at you. “I only say what I mean Honey.” 

You rolled the pendant in your fingers. “What's the pendant?” 

He dropped his chin to look down towards your fingers. “That is a St Joseph medallion. It belonged to my father, passed down from my grandpa. He is the patron saint of workers, expectant mothers, families, engineers and other things.” You were gentle as you let it rest back against his chest, dropping back down further to start placing kisses on his chest, and biting lightly on his nipples, your eyes lifting enough with suggestion. “Fuck Honey, you keep doing that with your mouth.” His hip rocked upwards, feeling him grow hard again as it pressed against your ass. “I'm going to need you again.” 

“That's the plan Curtis.” You ran your tongue over a tattoo that rested along the underside of his pec, rubbing yourself against him. Again in a show of strength that had you squealing in surprise, he flipped you to your back so he could kiss you senseless once again, his entire body hard and hot against yours.

“It’s a pretty good plan, Honey.”

#curtis everett x honey #curtis everett au #curtis everett #curtis evertt x reader #curtis everett x you #curtis everett and honey #curtis everett and reader #curtis everett and you #curtis everett fanfiction #snowpiercer au #chris evans characters #amber writes #sweater writes #life is short so make it sweet

[thiscrimsonsoul]

Semi-Hiatus From 10/21 Until 10/28

{out of paprikash} Hello, everyone. I received some very bad family news early this morning. I'll elaborate more under a cut for those who want to know, since I know many people don't want to hear about personal issues on rp blogs, and that's totally okay. I want all my blogs to be safe spaces for everyone. But the upshot is, I may not have very much time to write in the upcoming week, so I'll only be working on blogs whose characters I have a lot of muse for. I’ll leave @tarnishedxknight open, since I have a lot of muse for those characters, and I might write my Resident Evil muses (@youmissedone, @checkxmaster, and @freewillacquired) on their scheduled Wednesday (10/25) if time/muse allows. All other blogs, I will likely skip this week.

It’s hard for me to gauge, because sometimes when I get very upset/stressed, I want to write as a comfort/escape, but at other times I can’t even make words. There may be days when I write a lot and others when I write nothing. I’m sorry for anyone waiting for a reply, but all of this was very unexpected. I’m going to say I’ll be back next Saturday (10/28), but if that changes I'll let you know. Thanks so much for understanding. In the meantime, I hope you all are doing well. <3

Alright so... I don't want to go into a lot of details and overshare and make people uncomfortable, so I'll just quickly summarize what's going on.

I have a very toxic grandmother (she's 93) that me and my dad share time with my aunt with. She lives with us for 6 months out of the year and with her for 6 months, in a 2-2-4-4 breakdown. My grandma is so damaging to the mental health of whoever is taking care of her, and she greatly limits your freedom and ability to have a life because she can't be left alone for very long at all which is hard to deal with with work and whatnot, so we have to share time to keep our mental health from getting too bad. She causes my dad and I anxiety, depression, etc., but I won't go into detail as to all the reasons why. It's... a long story.

Anyway, Halloween is our happy time of year, because we love the season, we do a lot for it, and grandma is gone from August to December. Well... my aunt called today. She was just diagnosed with cancer and will need various treatments, so she can't take care of grandma anymore. We are getting her back two months early, we have to take down all our decorations for Halloween (she's very Christian and hates it), and we've had to cancel all our plans for Halloween and my birthday (some of which we had tickets and reservations we can't get refunds for), because when she's here, we can't leave the house for very long or go very far.

So at the height of when we were at our happiest and ready for Halloween and whatever else, we have to suddenly kindof... shut it all down... and accept back into our lives before we're ready this toxic person we were supposed to have a break from. And there will be no more breaks in the future, that's the worst part. Well, my aunt having cancer is the worst part, but you know what I mean. It's just all been a shock for us in so many ways.

*sigh* So yeah. If you've read this far, thank you for caring enough to do so, you deserve all the good things and I hope they come to you. I'll be okay, I just have to process everything, accept my new normal, somehow get through it. And I have to hope my aunt will be okay, forget about Halloween, and forget anything else me and my dad wanted to do for the foreseeable future. I am also getting laid off soon, probably after next semester according to my boss, so I need to find a new job. With grandma living with us all the time and my dad needing help to take care of her, I am extremely limited by what jobs I can look for, so that's another big source of anxiety. I just have to find a way through this, because I don't have a choice.

Again, thanks for understanding, and hopefully I can sort through this all in my head, get done everything that needs to get done in the next few days, and be ready to come back to my regular rp schedule next weekend. But like I said, I'll let everyone know if that changes.

#{ out of paprikash } ᵒᵒᶜ #tw: cancer #tw: anxiety #tw: toxic family

[disturbedbydesign]

Take Me Home - Part 11

PAIRING: Dennis Baker x Reader

SUMMARY: It’s been nearly a year since your ex-boyfriend dumped you and left you with a laundry list of insecurities, and you haven’t been able to really put yourself out there since. But when Dennis shows up at the adoption fair you’re running for your job at the animal shelter, there’s just something about him that makes you feel like you’re ready to try again.

WORD COUNT: 6K

WARNINGS (more to come): Body Issues (Dennis and Reader), References to Past Animal Abuse, Emotionally Abusive Exes (Dennis and Reader), Mention of Past Domestic Violence (Dennis’s Evil Ex), Dry Humping/Thigh Riding, Two Idiots In Love Making Out In A Car, Oral (M&F Receiving), Titjob, Cum Play, Fingering, Sexting/Nudes/FaceTime sex, Mutual Masturbation. 18+ only, no minors.

TAGLIST: @littlelioncub43, @whatinthestyles, @filthy-gorgeous, @justile, @valhalla-kristin, @elrw24, @janaev4ns, @ysmmsy, @ronearoundblindly, @in-umbra-gratia, @vayollie, @thornsnvultures

*Taglist is open to 18+ readers (no blank blogs) who comment, reblog, and/or chat with me via asks. If you just want to read lowkey, that’s cool and you do you, but the taglist is reserved for the lovely people who want to interact with me and my story :)

Series Masterlist

Part Eleven

This week is going to be absolute chaos. You’re working extra shifts to cover for Jack and Betsy, who are visiting her parents to give them the good news of their engagement in person, and you thought maybe you’d get at least one night with Dennis, but when he arrived at work this morning, he’d learned that one of his coworkers had quit and so his week has gone from normal to crazy as well. You’re more upset than you probably should be—after all, it’s only five days—but as Monday drags on, that feels like an eternity.

You try to focus on the fact that this weekend you’ll be having your first sleepover at Dennis’s place. You always take Badger out of town to your parents’ house over 4th of July weekend because fireworks give him horrible anxiety and your parents’ HOA strictly forbids them, so your plan is to drop him off with them on Friday, stay the night, and then head back bright and early Saturday to help Dennis get ready for the barbecue. You know he’s nervous about it—especially because he doesn’t really have close friends of his own to invite—but as he kissed you goodnight last night, he swore to you that he really does want to do something for the holiday.

“I can't remember the last time I even went to a party, nevermind had one of my own,” he’d said. “It’ll be fun. Everything is fun with you.”

If you can just get through this week, you know you’ll be rewarded handsomely, but you’re addicted to Dennis now and you don’t know how you’ll survive five whole days without him. You try to focus on work but you’ve been replaying last night in your head all day. You hadn’t expected that from him. You’d figured that Dennis’s first time going down on you would be awkward for both of you—you with your insecurities and him with his own, distracting the both of you and making it hard for you to finish. All that aside, he’d made it sound like you were going to have to teach him everything, and you absolutely would have (and done so with all the patience and kindness in the world), but turns out he didn’t need that much instruction at all. It makes you smile thinking about Dennis reading sex-tip articles, a look of deep concentration on his face as he committed everything to memory. Thinking about him watching videos, though… that makes you feel a different way entirely. The thought of Dennis watching porn and thinking about you—the things he wants to do to you, the way he wants to make you feel—has you clenching your legs under your desk.

Five fucking days. This is going to be hell.

You somehow manage to make it to your break in between your day and night shift, and you call Dennis to check in as you walk to the pizza place a few blocks away. He picks up on the second ring, like he’d been sitting there waiting for you to call.

“I was just thinking about you,” he says. 

“Oh yeah?” you reply. “And what exactly were you thinking about?”

“How good you taste.”

His voice is low and gravelly and your whole body is buzzing with yearning.

“Dennis, you can’t say shit like that when you know I can’t see you,” you say. “You’re being so mean right now.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” You can tell by the gleeful tone of his voice that he isn’t. “I could come by for lunch tomorrow…”

A brief mental picture of Dennis sweeping all the shit off your desk, laying you down on it, and burying his head between your thighs flashes through your brain but you shake your head to get rid of it.

“I have a lunch meeting with the ASPCA rep tomorrow. And you’ve got your appointment with Dr. Porter on Wednesday night, right?”

“I could cancel,” he says.

“No,” you insist. “That’s important. And besides, I think the Doc would probably have something not so nice to say about me if I let you cancel your therapy session for a date.”

“He definitely would. And you’re working Thursday night again and then off to your parents’ place Friday, right? Fuck. I just… I really want to see you this week.”

“I do, too.” You can hear the whine creep into your voice but you can’t help it. You want to stomp your feet and throw a tantrum like a toddler. “This sucks.”

“It really does,” he replies, “but we can talk and text and maybe even…”

He trails off but you think you know where he was going. “Maybe even what, Dennis?”

“Nothing,” he says, coughing to clear his throat. “Nevermind. I gotta run. Boss just came by with another stack of Gary’s work for me to take home with me. Call me later?”

“Dennis…”

“Just… call me later, sweetheart. Bye.”

“OK, bye.”

You hang up and grab yourself two slices and a soda to bring back with you, and as you eat at your desk, all you can think about is that “maybe even…” and how much you want to hear him finish that sentence. You know exactly what he means, of course, and you’re completely down. After all, you and Dennis had exchanged a few racy texts before, and if you’re going to make it through five whole days, you’re going to need something to see you through.

By the time the overnight staff arrives, you’re practically asleep on your feet, and you shoot Dennis a text on your way out to your car.

Y: Leaving now. I’ll text you when I get home. Don’t want to wake you if you’re sleeping.

You get a response almost immediately.

D: I’ll be up. Call me when you get in.

The apartment is quiet when you get home; the only sounds are Badger snoring from your bedroom and Mal’s white-noise machine indicating that she is actually home and in bed early for once. You toe your shoes off at the door and read the note she left for you telling you that Badger is all set with his walk and nightly business, and when you get to your room you give Badger a scratch behind the ear (ignoring his grumpy Bitch I’m Sleeping growl) before changing into a tank top and clean underwear. You should shower the day off you but you’re just too fucking exhausted to do anything but crawl into bed and call Dennis to say goodnight.

“Hey,” he says.

“You didn’t have to stay up,” you reply. “It’s after midnight.”

“I wanted to hear your voice. I miss you.”

“I miss you, too, but I’m so fucking tired.”

“That’s a shame,” he says, a hint of mischief in his voice.

You laugh. “I want to, but not tonight,” you say, and you hear him whine.

“Please?” he begs. “You’re gonna make me do this all by myself?”

“I’m sorry, baby,” you say, a big yawn hitting you mid-sentence. “I just can’t even keep my eyes open.”

“Alright,” he says, his voice soft and sweet. “Go to sleep, sweetheart. Call me in the morning.”

“I will.”

“Oh, I know you will.”

You don’t get a chance to question him before he hangs up, and you’re too exhausted to even think clearly, so you just put the TV on low, hit the pillow, and pass out. When you wake, it’s almost 9:30—way later than you usually sleep even on days after you pull a double. Badger is standing over you looking miffed that his morning piss and breakfast have been delayed.

“Sorry, buddy,” you tell him. “Mama was tired.” He nudges your arm with his snout and you laugh. “OK, OK, I’m up.”

You throw on some sweats and a t-shirt and take Badger for his morning stroll, and once he’s done with breakfast, you grab your phone to call Dennis. Before you have a chance to call, you see you have a text from him that wasn’t there before you left for Badger’s walk, and when you open your text chain, you see it’s not a message but a video; the thumbnail is R-rated and well on it’s way to X.

He didn’t. Oh my God… he did.

You throw the living room TV on for Badger and rush into your bedroom, shutting the door behind you, and then you hit play.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” you hear Dennis say, but all you can focus on is the tented sheet in his lap. He pushes it down his thighs, revealing his massive cock in his hand as he strokes it slowly. “I wish you were here with me. Miss you so fucking much. Miss having your pretty lips wrapped around my dick.”

“Holy shit,” you say out loud to no one.

Even though Mal is at work, you grab your headphones so you can hear the deep timbre of his voice as loud as possible in your ear. You lay back on your bed and crank the volume all the way up, and the rumble of his low moans has you spreading your legs and shoving one hand down your sweats and underneath your panties.

“Been thinking about your perfect little pussy all day, baby. Got so fucking hard at work.” He squeezes his bulbous tip and you watch the precum drip out before he gathers it between his thumb and forefinger and smears it all over his head. “I want you so bad, sweetheart. Wanna see your pretty face when you cum for me again.”

He grabs a bottle of lube from somewhere off-camera and squirts a generous amount on the tip of his cock, letting it drip down the length of him before grabbing himself by the base and stroking it up and down. His hand is a blur on the screen and the schlick schlick schlick of his lubed-up strokes has you rubbing your clit in quick circles. You don’t even know where to look: his thick, muscular thighs, his abs tensing and relaxing as he moans and groans, his pecs bouncing just a tiny bit in time with his strokes. His body is absolutely sinful and—as you can hear him telling you—it’s all yours to do with whatever you’d like.

He tugs and massages his balls as he licks his lips, his neck veins straining so hard you think they’ll burst as he throws his head back and moans, “God, I can’t wait to fuck you. Just want to be inside you, sweetheart. So fucking deep inside. Oh, fuck.”

Just thinking about having that big, beautiful cock in your guts is enough to bring you to the edge, and as Dennis strokes himself to completion, your name on his lips as white ropes of cum paint his abs, you speed up your own ministrations and cry out through gritted teeth. Your chest is heaving along with Dennis’s as he comes down, rubbing his spend into his skin. You wish you could lick him clean, wait the .5 seconds it would take for him to get hard again, and then ride his cock until your body breaks in half but you can’t.

Four fucking days. 

“Talk to you in the morning, sweetheart,” he says, and then the video cuts.

As soon as you can get a grip on yourself, you call Dennis.

“Morning, sweetheart,” he says, and you can hear the amusement in his voice. “Did you get my present?”

“I honestly don’t even know what to say,” you reply.

You can feel his vibe shift through the phone. “Shit… should I not have-”

“No, no,” you tell him. “You definitely should have. That was so fucking hot. Like… do you have a secret OnlyFans that I don’t know about?”

Dennis laughs. “No. That was just for you. I don’t know what got into me last night. I’m sorry if it was too much, I just-”

“Dennis, stop. I loved it. I just came so hard watching it and I’m probably gonna watch it, like, 100 more times this week until I get to see you again.”

“I can make you another one. I mean, if you want…”

“Yes,” you say. “I want. I very much want.”

Dennis chuckles and you know that he’s blushing and you just feel so lucky to have found this sweet, sexy guy that can go from being the biggest dork to the sexiest hunk of man you’ve ever seen in your life and back again in seconds.

“Hey, Dennis?” you ask.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t care how tired I am after work tonight. You. Me. Facetime.”

***

Four days. Four more days before he can get his hands on you. Dennis had been a little nervous to send you that video, but if he can’t be with you, he wanted to show you exactly how much he wants to be with you. He’d never done anything like that before, but something about you just makes Dennis think things and do things he never would have dreamed about before you walked into his life and shattered the picture he’d had of himself. Dennis thought he knew who he was, and it was a person he didn’t particularly like: a weak man, afraid, powerless. Now, though, he isn’t so sure. It’s scary, this journey of discovering himself—at his age, a man should have a pretty good idea of who he is—but after meeting you, he realizes he has no idea who Dennis Baker actually is. He’s starting to see just how much outside influences have shaped his opinion of himself and the way he lives his life. It’s terrifying and exciting in equal measure to know that maybe he can be whoever he wants to be with you.

And he knows who he wants to be. He wants to be a strong, confident man who isn’t afraid to show you how much he wants you, who isn’t afraid to tell you how much he loves you—the type of man who would believe you if you say you love him, too. He wants to be the type of man you want to marry and start a family with, the type of man you would never get tired of loving. He wants to be the type of man who can tell you all these things—and he’s close now, he can feel it.

But this week isn’t the week. He isn’t about to tell you he loves you through a fucking text message or call or even FaceTime. No, he wants to tell you with your beautiful face just inches from his, because he knows you feel it, too. He knows you’ll say it back. He needed that bit of reassurance from Mal to fully know, but he knows now and it’s killing him to have to wait.

Four more days.

It’s about 5:30 and Dennis is wrapping up his day, packing up all of the extra work he’s got to take home with him since Gary’s abrupt departure. He liked Gary, too. He was one of only a few people at work he would consider anything close to a friend—not that they ever really hung out, but he was a nice guy, invited him into his Fantasy league (which for a long time has been his sole source of social interaction), and they could shoot the shit about baseball and the boss being a dick and all those surface, bullshit things that you talk about with a work friend. The extra work is just the icing on the cake of Gary leaving, but it isn’t anything he can’t handle. Putting in the extra hours this week wouldn’t have bothered him in the slightest before he met you, but now every second he spends doing Gary’s job is a second away from you and it pisses Dennis off a little.

He’s about to text you to see how your lunch meeting went when his phone dings. He smiles because it’s you, but when he opens your text his smile fades and his mouth drops open as a deep guttural sound bubbles up from somewhere in his chest. You’ve sent him a series of pictures, each one more titillating than the last. He recognizes your office as the backdrop of all of them, and in the first, it’s you in just your bra and jeans. In the second one, the jeans are gone and you’ve got skimpy little panties on that match your bra. In the third one, the bra is gone, and the fourth… 

“Fuck me,” he moans under his breath, taking in the sight of you bent over your desk, your gorgeous ass on display with just a sliver of pussy to tease him.

Dennis grabs his things and practically sprints to his car, holding his backpack in front of him as he goes so that none of his colleagues notice the growing tent in his khakis. The second he gets the door closed, he grabs his phone and pulls up that fourth picture, zooming in to get the best look he can at that heavenly place between your legs. There’s about a million things he wants to say to you right now—all of them absolutely filthy—and he doesn’t even know where to begin.

D: Jesus Christ I almost just came in my pants in the middle of my office

Y: Poor baby. Just giving you a taste of your own medicine…

D: Why don’t you ditch work and come give me a taste of something else?

Y: Can’t. You’ll just have to make me another video…

D: You’re a real bad girl taking nudes at work

Y: Come punish me then

D: That why you bent yourself over the desk? You need a spanking?

Y: That’s exactly what I need. That and your big fat cock in my mouth.

D: How am I supposed to drive home like this, huh? You’re killing me, sweetheart. Please let me come see you.

Y: Can’t. FaceTime later. Gotta go xoxo

“Christ,” he says to himself. “Four more days. Four more days.”

He repeats it like a mantra, wiping his brow because he’s actually sweating now and he has no idea how he’s going to get home with the massive erection that’s threatening to tear through his pants. He’s trying to push all thoughts of you out of his head in the hopes it will settle down when he gets a call from the Boner Killer herself. In any other circumstance, he would have let it go to voicemail, but he decides to pick up, if only to rid himself of his increasingly painful erection.

“What do you want, Karen?”

“Listen,” she says, her faux-regretful tone an unpleasant reminder of just how many times this has played out before, “I want to apologize for the way I acted the other day. I was just angry and I didn’t expect you to have… company. So, yeah, I’m sorry, but we need to talk about this alimony situation like adults, Dennis. I know you’re mad at me, but that doesn’t give you the right to cut me off.”

Dennis sighs: another fake apology after another drunken outburst in a bid to get what she wants from him. Same shit, different day—but it’s not the same now. Now Dennis has a reason to push back, to fight for his own happiness.

“Look, Karen, I appreciate the apology and all but I’m not doing this anymore. We’re going to court and the judge is going to decide. If the court says I have to pay, I will, but I’m going to fight like hell not to because you don’t deserve another goddamn cent from me. I want you out of my life. For good.”

“This is about her, isn’t it?” she spits, voice dripping with malevolence—there she is, the real Karen, it never takes long. “You don’t actually think she likes you, do you? Please tell me you’re not that stupid.”

“No, Karen, I don’t think she likes me. I think she loves me, and I love her, and I’ll see you in court.”

Dennis hangs up, more determined than ever to tell you how he feels. If he could say it to his demon of an ex-wife and believe it, he knows he can say it to you. He shoots an email to his lawyer, asking after the court date, and heads towards home. All he wants in the world (besides for you) is to take Jax for a nice long after-dinner walk around the neighborhood and think about how exactly he’s going to tell you.

Work clothes exchanged for his sweats and a t-shirt, Dennis walks Jax around the neighborhood, taking the longer route and letting his pup sniff leisurely as he has a good think. He knows he wants to tell you on Saturday, after the 4th of July party is over and everyone has gone home and he finally finally has you alone. Dennis knows you’re staying over that night but he tries not to put any pressure on himself about what that might mean. Of course he wants to have sex with you and he’s pretty sure you want to have sex with him, but he has to give himself some grace—leave room for the possibility that it might not feel right, or he might not be ready, or you might not be. He doesn’t want to force it; he wants it to happen organically, to feel as natural as waking up in the morning, but he knows that’s impossible—that of course there are incredibly high expectations on both sides and the first time probably won’t be some sort of magical, soul-stirring experience. He can hope, though, and he can be prepared.

Even though you were candid about the fact that you’re on birth control for your cramps, he’d bought some condoms anyway. He’d got himself tested after Karen told him she’d been fucking around on him and his results were all negative (and he hasn’t been with anyone since) but he doesn’t know about you and he can’t bring himself to ask. It wouldn’t matter to him, of course, and he knows that he should just have the conversation ahead of time like adults and go from there, but he’s just got so many other things going against him when it comes to sex that he can’t add one more awkward conversation to the mix. He’s operating under the assumption that, when and if the time comes, he will use protection, and he’s more than happy to wrap it up if it means he gets to be inside of you. It’s not what he thinks about when he thinks about fucking you, though. He thinks about fucking you raw and pumping you full and watching you drip with him. It’s what he thought even before he knew you were on the pill, and if you’d let him, he would do it even if you weren’t. But that’s another conversation—one he knows he has to have with you but that he’s not ready for. 

Because Dennis wants a family so desperately; he always has. Karen pretended to want the same thing but, like everything else, it was all bullshit. Once they got married, it was all “let’s wait a little while” and then a few years later it was “I never wanted kids—you knew that.” She actually managed to convince him that he’d misunderstood her, that she had always been honest with him about her lack of desire for motherhood. He understands now, thanks to Dr. Porter, that it was textbook gaslighting, but for a long time he thought it was his own fault he wasn’t a father.

Dennis doesn’t know what he’ll do if you don’t want to have children because it’s one of the few non-negotiable things he needs from a relationship. He doesn’t care in the slightest if he has a biological child or an adopted child; he just wants to be a dad. It’s one of the things he knows he needs to discuss with Dr. Porter tomorrow and he’s dreading it, but he feels in his heart that you want the same thing as he does. He’s never met someone with more love to give than you, never met someone so patient and kind and caring, but Dennis doesn’t want to make assumptions—not every woman wants to be a mom, and that’s perfectly ok. He just can’t put his heart and soul into one that doesn’t. Not again.

But he’s getting way ahead of himself—thinking about marriage and babies when he hasn’t even voiced his feelings for you. He has to tell you he loves you, but how? The over-the-top cheesy romantic in him thinks briefly about a fireworks display, but that would be a nightmare for Jax (who will probably already be freaked out by whatever the neighbors have going on) so Dennis quickly axes that idea. He wants to do something, though. He wants to make it special. He wants you to know that he’s felt it for a long time—that it’s not just something he spits out without thinking.

By the time he returns home with Jax, he’s still coming up empty, but if he has to wait four—well, basically three—more days to see you, at least that gives him time to come up with something perfect. Because it has to be perfect. It has to be, because you are and it’s what you deserve. He’s run out of time to focus on it now, though. He needs to get his/Gary’s work done so that he can cut out a little early for his appointment with Dr. Porter tomorrow. He fixes himself a little something to eat—the lemon spaghetti you’d taught him to make, which is his new favorite thing in the world because it’s delicious and reminds him of you—and then he gets to work with ESPN droning on in the background and Jax napping next to him on the couch.

He finishes up around 10 and takes Jax for a quick night walk before getting ready for bed. He knows he’s gonna have to wait for you a while—the overnight crew doesn’t start until 11:30 and you won’t be home before midnight—but even though he’s exhausted, all it takes is a few moments studying the pretty pictures you’d sent him earlier to have him wide awake. He lets Jax up on the bed and scrolls Netflix, deciding to start watching Schitt’s Creek because you’d told him it’s one of your comfort shows. He’s on the third episode when you finally call. 

“Hey, baby,” you say, and Dennis doesn’t know what to focus on—all he ever wants to do is look in your eyes, but you’ve got your phone tilted so that your tits take centerstage, and he can see your nipples through the sheer baby-pink bra you’re wearing. “You have a good night?”

All Dennis can say is “Fuck me.”

“I’m trying to,” you reply, panning your phone down so he can see your matching panties—if you could even call that miniscule scrap of fabric that. “You like?”

“Sweetheart, I love. But you know you don’t have to dress up for me.”

“You want me to take them off?” you ask, and Dennis doesn’t know what to say—because of course he does, there’s nothing better than you totally naked—but also you look so fucking cute in this pretty pink set you’ve chosen to wear for him: it’s somehow innocent and sinfully sexy at the same time, just like you.

“Keep them on,” he says. “You look so fucking gorgeous, baby,” Dennis says.

The hand not holding his phone reaches down to pull his cock through the hole in his boxers, and you notice, because of course you do.

“Lemme see it,” you plead. “Please? You know how much I love it.”

“You really do, huh?” he responds, and you nod. “You really love my dick that much?”

“I’d do anything for your cock, baby. Anything. Tell me what you want me to do.”

Dennis takes a moment to think about it because there are various scenarios running through his mind right now and he doesn’t know which one to pick. He decides to have you recreate the position you were in earlier because oh did he like that.

“Turn around,” he says. “Shake your ass for me.”

“So you liked that last picture, huh?” Dennis watches as you get your phone into position on your nightstand before crawling back up on your bed and sitting back on your knees. “Thought you might.”

“It was a fucking tease is what it was.”

“You want more?” you ask, running your hands up your body.

“I want everything,” he replies. “Show me.”

You flash him a naughty little smile as you reach behind you and unclasp your bra, holding the cups (as if they really hid anything at all) before you slowly let the garment drop. Dennis groans as you roll your nipples between your fingers and take your bottom lip between your teeth. He’s got the base of his cock in a death grip and its already throbbing in his hand before you even turn around. When you do, you get on all fours and look over your shoulder as you wiggle your ass at the camera. Only the tiny fabric strip of your G-string is keeping Dennis from getting exactly what he wants.

“You like that, baby?” you ask.

“Fuck yes. Now take your panties off, sweetheart. Nice and slow for me.”

You rise up on your knees and slide them down slowly as requested, only it’s painfully slow and it seems like an eternity before you’ve got them down to your mid-thighs and you’re bent over again with your knees spread wide.

“God, I love your pussy. So fucking pretty. Spread it open for me.”

You press your face to the bed and reach around on either side of you, and Dennis moans as you spread your lips apart and start to throw it back and forth slowly. Dennis starts to stroke himself at the pace you’re setting, imagining himself behind you as you fuck yourself on his cock. 

“I’m so fucking wet for you Dennis,” you moan.

“I see it. Fuck. I just wanna taste you, baby.”

“Soon,” you say. “Tell me what else you want.”

“Wanna watch my dick slide in and out of that gorgeous fucking pussy, all soaked in you. God, I need to fuck you, sweetheart.”

“I need it, too, Dennis. I need your cock so bad. I feel so fucking empty.”

“Turn around,” he says. “On your back. Wanna watch you play with that pretty little pussy until you cum.”

You grab two pillows and place them at the end of the bed, laying back against them and spreading your legs for him again.

“Lemme see your cock, Dennis. Please.”

Between the sight of you splayed out so beautifully for him and the urgent need in your voice, Dennis’s skin feels like it’s on fire he angles his phone down to give you the look you’ve been begging for. He grips the base and pushes it forward a little, and you make a hungry little mmmph sound when it twitches and jumps back a bit in his hand.

“You’re so fucking big and thick, baby,” you say as you start to circle your clit. “What if I can’t handle you?”

Dennis knows you’re just dirty talking him but he can’t say it isn’t a concern of his. He knows his dick is big, even if he doesn’t quite know what to do with it, and you were so tight around just his fingers that he’s legitimately scared he might hurt you. But he’s done his research—the importance of foreplay and lube, the best positions to make you comfortable and put you in charge of how deep he can go. The last thing in the world Dennis wants is to hurt you in any way, in the bedroom or out of it, and he’ll do whatever it takes to keep from doing so.

“I’m gonna take good care of you, sweetheart,” Dennis promises. “Gonna go nice and slow, stretch you out with my fingers first, make you cum on my tongue, get you nice and juicy and ready for me.”

“I’m ready for you now,” you say, working your clit harder and faster as your hips start to jerk a bit. “God, I wish you were here.” You grip your breast in one hand as you move your other hand from your clit to your entrance, slowly sliding two of your fingers inside. “My fingers are so fucking small compared to yours. Fuck, I need you, Dennis. Please.”

Dennis strokes his cock faster as he watches you fuck yourself on your fingers. “You’re so fucking sexy, sweetheart. Keep going.”

“I don’t know if I can cum without you,” you whine. “I need more.”

“You got any toys?” Dennis asks, desperately hoping that you do because he would kill to watch you fuck yourself with something bigger than your fingers.

“I have a vibrator,” you reply.

“Get it.”

Dennis watches your breasts sway up close as you pull your vibrator out of the drawer in your nightstand. He’s slightly disappointed to discover that it’s something small and egg-shaped and not something he can watch you fuck yourself on—he doesn’t know much about the different types of sex toys except that, according to Karen, they were all better than him—but he’s still absolutely salivating at the thought of watching you use this thing on yourself.

You turn it on and the sound is surprisingly low as you tease your entrace with it. When you bring it to your clit, you throw your head back and curl your toes and shout, “Fuck.”

“That good, huh?” Dennis asks, his eyes locked on your face as it twists up in pleasure.

“Yes,” you whisper. “Oh, God, Dennis. I’m gonna cum soon. Talk to me. Tell me how you wanna fuck me. Please.”

Dennis decides that, for the purpose of talking you through your orgasm and because he is almost ready to bust himself, he’s just going to let his inhibitions go and tell you exactly what he wants to do to you. None of it is realistic, of course; he doesn’t know if he can do any of these things (and he certainly can’t do them yet), but when he fantasizes about the ways he wants to fuck you, he doesn’t have to be realistic.

“I wanna fuck you from behind,” he begins, “hard, and I wanna watch your pretty ass bounce as I give you those long, deep strokes that have you clawing at the fucking sheets and screaming my name. I want to fuck you so good you can’t think, can’t fucking breathe, and then I wanna flip you over and throw your legs over my shoulders and bend you in half and fuck my cum so deep into you that you’ll be leaking me for days.”

“Oh, fuck. Oh my God. Yes. Yes. Keep going. I’m so fucking close.”

“I’m not gonna stop, either,” he continues. “You know I’ll get hard again when I’m still inside you and I’ll just keep fucking you and fucking you until you can’t cum anymore, and then I’ll make you cum one more time just because I can.”

“FUCK.”

Dennis watches your thighs tremble as you cum on your toy, your eyes staring straight at the camera—at him—and your mouth open wide with the sweetest sounds coming out of it. That’s all it takes to finish Dennis off, and as he shoots a load onto his stomach he thinks to himself that he’ll never get tired of looking in your eyes when you cum.

“Jesus Christ,” you say, chest heaving as you pull yourself up onto your knees and then flop down on your stomach, grabbing the phone from the nightstand. “You’re, like, really good at this, you know that?”

“I’m discovering new talents with you,” he replies, feeling a little smug, if he’s honest with himself, because he really is kinda good at this, huh?

“Three more days, baby,” you say.

“Three more days,” he replies.

PART TWELVE >>>

#dennis baker fanfiction #dennis baker x reader #dennis baker x you #dennis baker #chris evans #chris evans characters #take me home series

[elgascreamslikehell]

Fuck it Friday

Tagged by sweet @pirrusstuff but it's already Saturday at my place (and it was Saturday when i was tagged cause I'm in east Europe)) so I'm kinda late for this train and won't be tagging anyone but if you just want to share - plz share!

It's extra piece of the same story cause usually i share on Wednesdays and Sundays.

I use 'fuck' in the meaning of swearing deal with it but i suppose they should have some action somewhere in this story cause well it's time

Eddie wakes up from the smell of pancakes. It's strange. Carla is off today. And to be fair, not that she used to cook breakfast. Somebody broke into the house to make pancakes? Well, good idea, of course, the most probable version. He stands up. Runs a quick internal checklist, physically - more than fine, not even a sign of dizziness, and hey, he was drunk yesterday… oh god, yesterday. Did he do something he shouldn't do? It's a little cloudy in his head but it looks like he was nice. Too nice.  Okay, back to.. 'Eds, you're up? Breakfast!' It's Buck. Buck is a great cook but there's one issue. He's blind. Eddie walks to the kitchen and stands in the doorway 'Good morning. How are you feeling? Oh, Chris, you're already here. Good morning to you too' 'Fine. I'm fine. We cooked pancakes with Chris! So seat down', - Buck's face is so expressive. Now the expression is guilt. Why the hell can he feel guilty? 'Hi dad', - Chris is shining as a new quarter. So, they made it up apparently. That's nice: 'Buck taught me to make pancakes with maple syrup!' 'We don't have maple syrup' 'Yes. So that's a new recipe. Pancakes with maple syrup without any syrup. Anyway, did you know that real maple syrup is…' Eddie laughs. He loves Buck. Like… he knew it for a long time already but somehow it's not getting better, on the contrary, it's getting only worse. Maybe he should stop trying to fight it. And definitely he should talk to Eric. It's cruel. And generally wrong. Eddie can learn how to love him at some point but he would never be Buck.  How did he end up like this? Why? Maybe his parents were right, it's him. He is the problem.  On the other hand, he can learn to love Eric. Be in the relationship. And Eric loves him, so… It's stupid to stop living only because one person you need you just can't have. But he has Buck. Just… not in the way he wants. But he has Buck. They are friends. It's better than nothing, right? His fingers still recall Buck's skin. Invisible Lichtenberg figures. '...Eddie? You okay? Dizziness? Head? What's wrong? Chris, bring my phone please, I need to..' 'I'm fine. Sorry, guys. Just thinking. No need to call anyone. And please, stop waiting for me to die eventually, it was a mild concussion and I'm fine!' 'Yes, but..', - how does he manage to have so many expressions on his face without eyes. And hell how much Eddie misses these eyes  'Forget it. Breakfast, getting ready, school then hospital' Then Natalia takes you away from me.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. And Buck smiles. His smile is as wide as a crack in Eddie's heart but he promises himself he doesn't have one.

@krayfish @blackberry-l @kaseysgirl86-blog @brightlyprofiling @idealuk @1stbonesfan @angryangeldreamsalad @criminally-obsessed @amelia9bl @silvergold-swirl @itsamaaaadworld @vasudharaghavan @livingonzenstreet @nothingbutmande@spanishrose6 @sunflowerdiaiz @fanf98 @logicloveandsense @simply-mev @ronordmann @still--not--over--merlin @fionaswhvre @z02fl @vanjalen

#ryu is writing stuff #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buck x eddie #buddie 911 #911 fandom #911 buddie #911 fic #911 eddie

[bcacstuff]

Difference of opinion. No one is excusing them, just seeing them differently than you are. Of you don't care about them, and sound a bit out of joint you 'don't follow them', but still repost from others about them, and post an opinion of what you feel is inappropriate about the their post, leads some to the opinion, you are a bit disingenuous. We don't have to agree. Typically enjoy most if what you post and feel you are typically very straightforward, on this don't think you are seeing yourself clearly and your attitude toward the Nics clearly. Just an opinion. Also, anyone who has paid attention since SA, can be of the opinion, Sam uses them as much as they use him. Great ex yesterday Sam snuck back into the 35 age bracket with Nic, he'll never accept he's over 40 and close to his girlfriend's father's age.

I'm rolling my eyes here a bit Anon, cause seriously, the amount of attention this subject gets and you and other Anons keep coming back to is beyond me.

Yeah, I hear you, I can not post it and stop writing about it. But let me just do a quick recap here how this all came about...

Yesterday, an Anon, not even on my blog, asked another blogger why S was quiet all Friday night and up early Saturday morning. The blogger answered because he had visitors, and called them leeches.

Meanwhile we learned about the Hydrox event, saw the video. And honestly, I wouldn't have payed anymore attention to it. For me it was nothing more than a notice. Like when your neighbours have these visitors again at their place that always park their car in a sloppy way half in front of you driveway. Maybe they're a very nice and caring people, I don't know them. Maybe they give a ton to charity and are always ready to help others. I don't now, I don't care. I just notice how they always park their car in an annoying sloppy way, and think oh well, they'll probably will be gone in a bit. And go on with my other business of the day. - shrug -

Then I get an Anon asking me why 'certain people' are so hateful about the Nics. Yes, I figure, 'certain people' refers to that other blogger that called them leeches. Well, okay, I take the time and have the courtesy to give this Anon my view on it. In the comments, some agree others disagree. Fine - shrug -

Usually, when I post about a subject, I get Anons about the particular subject, and this time it is no different. I delete a couple of them, just because they're 'meh' to me, I don't care, they don't bring that much new arguments to the table and I'm entertaining myself in chats about how a certain song is subject to an escalation on IG.

I see a post of another blogger that contains a nice summary of ongoing postings of female Nic, that confirms my view I gave on the subject, and I decide to reblog. Adding a small comment. - shrug -

I keep getting Anons about the subject, but honestly I'm already done with it for a quite a while. Well okay, I select some to post and trash the others, and just think can we put this subject to bed. Cause, really, it all turns into a same thing as this whole derailed discussion about a certain song that was used as background on a video for whatever unimportant reason. I have a view, you have a view, some agree, others disagree. It's no better. We better agree to disagree - shrug -

Anyway, I turn my attention to some other news that passed along my screen and caught my atention, watch another episode of YOU on Netflix, and put myself to rest. - shrug -

And that's all there is to it Anon. - shrug -

Oh, yes, noticed the age category, 30 - 39. And on the website's results, it's even worse, 30 - 34.... 🤷‍♀️ oh well, age is just a number

Anyway, he (together with NR) was abt 10 minutes faster than Valbo, for the ones that are interested.

[terraliensvent]

Cass here. (From the screenshots)

Normally I’m all for not like. Putting 100% faith in mods of CS, but y’all need to lighten the fuck up. We already know it’s not ALL finals. They said that. They said that they have some personal business to address and that they ALSO have finals. Like come on. It’s final season. I know some of y’all aren’t in college because you’re like, 8, but finals typically happen in the span of an entire season. They don’t all happen at once, but rather within a few months. That’s why mods have to crack down and study, because you know, they have a life and priorities outside of a CS.

Not saying I 100% believe it either, but we need to be realistic and stop assuming the absolute worst just because we’re frustrated. It seems to me that at least Tycho wants things to change and is trying to make that happen. Whatever personal business the mods are dealing with though is important and based on my conversation with them today we’ll have some kind of answer by the end of the day, wether it actually give us any info or not. And if it doesn’t, you bet I’ll be the first to say something.

We’re too quick to vilify some of these mods. Yes the staff MYOs are getting out of hand and they need to step it up with the trait sheets, but do y’all really have nothing better to do on a Saturday than be mad on a drama blog? Idk.

Mod, I look forward to seeing what you and Tycho talked about. They’re very open to new ideas and are by far my favorite mod to chat with. At least you can tell that they care and want to do something. It’s a breath of fresh air compared to what we’ve been getting. Look at what voicing your opinion respectfully does? It gets you answers. We’d still be in the dark if someone hadn’t asked what was going on. (Shoutout to them, I can’t recall who) and you’d all still be mad and speculating over nothing.

It seems like if you’re respectful, the mods will at least hear you out. Especially Tycho. Let’s try and have some class, because let’s be honest— this whole “show” everyone is ready for will probably be a small bump at best, and everyone will go back to hoarding and being whales.

there are some points on here i agree with, and some im a bit hesitant with. im also trying to be a bit more careful with what i say in asks right now considering current circumstances

i think people have a right to be irritated with things, and i also think people have a right to voice things without being tone policed

the bottom line is there are some terra staff who are really rude and who people are less comfortable giving critique to, as well as the fact that there are a lot of people in terras who like to jump down the throats of people who have negative things to say, lots of people in terras have a very toxic positivity mindset

i will say though talking with tycho feels really productive, i plan to make a (hopefully not too big) post going over some of the stuff i brought up and some of the stuff they mention as well so itll hopefully reassure some of you so to you anons please hold off on your asks for a little bit

#terralien #closed species vent #closed species #terraliens #vent

[greyeyedmonster-18]

Happy Sirius and Harry Saturday! I don’t know if you were still looking for prompts, or if you’ve also written something similar before… but I had one for Sirius finding out about Umbridge’s quill and the scar on Harry’s hand, or alternatively, Sirius finding out about Harry living in a cupboard.

Or, for a bit of fluff… Sirius being a jungle gym for toddler Harry, child Harry and even teenage Harry (before he hits a growth spurt) and then Grandad Sirius being a jungle gym for all his grandkids and absolutely loving it. He will stand for hours with his arms up, so the kids can swing from them, he will let them climb on his shoulders so they can feel tall… I have to credit you and Miss Imp for the inspiration behind this hc though, you both posted about it, and the image has been haunting me (in a good way)

Finally, I just had to say, I finished reading ten reasons (including the bonus you posted - Harry giving Remus the shovel talk!!) and I’m absolutely in love with the relationship between Harry and Sirius. It was beautifully written!

Anon! Firstly, thank you for the love on my fourth-born midwestern child. I am...always so pleasantly surprised with what people seem to like about this story (all my stories, really) and Harry and Sirius in this seemed to hit for a lot of people, even when they don't particularly enjoy Kid Fics. I also get a little chuckle because Harry had approximately...three ish scenes in this whole fic and stole the damn show.

Second, I love both of these. I will probably dribble with the jungle gym one later (I also want to dribble with the idea of Sirius just being bad at being a infrastructure. Like Harry is so uninterested in running his taxi cab along Sirius's legs, and tells Sirius he's shaped funny. But REMUS. Remus is roadway material, and Harry's there like Moony, please teach Sirius how to be better at being a street.)

but because it's sad sirius sunday, we shall do the first one (also, tis short. if i could find it, @zazima has a great drabble to this prompt as well and handles these things much better than I, so 10/10 recommend checking out her blog) .... <3

--

Harry was Sirius's favorite thing to pay attention to. That title had previously belonged to Remus, but his boyfriend had been dethroned the second Sirius got custody of Harry, name cleared and free to resume Godfatherly duties. Harry was top of Sirius's list and these days one of his only priorities. Sirius would've noticed the new red mark on Harry's hand even if his godson hadn't been absently scratching at it after dinner when they were all gathered in the sitting room, enjoying cups of tea and conversation. He was across the room from Harry when he noticed the scratching and the way Harry pulled his sweater sleeve over his hand when he noticed Sirius was looking, immediately casting his eyes down to the ground, smile fading.

So Sirius waited until the house had quieted before making his way to Harry's bedroom, trying to prepare himself with guesses of what the mark could've been from and why Harry was trying to hide it. Quidditch? A duel in the hallway? A physical fight? Had Harry scratched himself on something in Number 12 and not wanted to tell him?

Sirius knocked on the door of Harry's bedroom, waiting for a response as he always did before entering. Harry was in the process of getting ready for bed, sweatshirt from the day on the floor as Harry rummaged through his trunk--the one that wasn't unpacked just yet- for pajamas to put on.

"Er...sorry, I'll pick that up," Harry said looking at the sweatshirt on the floor, "I know it goes in the hamper."

"It's alright," Sirius assured him, a teenagers discarded clothing the least of his concerns. He moved to sit on Harry's bed, remembering something he had read about neutral positions for conversations with teenagers. Especially challenging ones. Sirius was two heads taller than Harry at this point, Sirius used to taking seats when he spoke with his godson to even out eye contact, and the bed seemed more approachable than a desk chair or leaning against his dresser. "You have time to unpack and get that sorted."

"I know..." Harry looked down at the ground again, toe scuffing at the carpet.

Sirius knew why he was in there and Harry did as well. It was common for Sirius to come say goodnight, walking in to give Harry a kiss on the top of his head before leaving once again. Sitting wasn't part of it. Nor was the silence that enveloped the entire room as Sirius thought carefully of what to say.

"Whatever it is, I'm not angry."

"You don't even know, you can't say that."

"Sure I can, and I mean it too. I'm not angry," Sirius continued, "I...would like to see your hand though, make sure you're not hurt."

"It's...fine."

"Or lotion? You keep scratching it."

"Dunno," Harry responded, still looking at the floor, drawing patterns with his toe on the carpet.

"New hand? I think Bill has nice hands. We could offer to swap," Sirius said, and he could see a tiny smile on Harry's face. His godson looked like he wanted the Earth to swallow him hole, more so than usual. Harry walked with a weight on his shoulders, and Sirius wanted nothing more than to take some of it from him.

"Frankenstein..."

"What?"

"Oh...muggle thing. For Halloween. Also, a book, dunno...you should read more, Sirius."

Sirius laughed softy, and waited another second for Harry to pick his head up, "Can I take a look at your hand?"

An eternity went by. Sirius sitting on the bed, hair greying and eyes wrinkled before Harry moved from the spot in the center of the floor to stand in front of Sirius, extending his hand.

I must not tell lies.

Clear as day. Scarred. Raised.

"...Harry."

"I...told you I had detention with Umbridge. She had me write lines...."

A chill ran down Sirius's spine as he put some pieces together quickly with the very little context Harry provided. A blood quill. Sirius inhaled deeply, shoving the impulse to go shout at Dumbledore deep down and locking it inside a box to save for later. Sirius had been keeping a tally, a chart, of the Headmaster's offenses, waiting for dust to settle just enough for it to be appropriate to storm his office. When the day came, Sirius was certain he'd be standing there for hours, scarcely stopping to breathe let alone censor himself and right now, the top of the list, was allowing a teacher to use a blood quill as appropriate punishment.

"You're mad," Harry said quickly and quietly, "I knew you'd be mad, I told you you would be mad and you're not saying anything because you don't want me to know you're mad but...I know you are and that's why it's fine, I swear, Sirius."

"When?"

"Dunno."

"You don't know?"

"Me teling you isn't going help anything..."

"I'm not mad at you."

"Still mad."

"A bit," Sirius admitted, running his thumb over the scarred words as if trying to rub them away. If he pressed hard enough, they would heal. If he showed up enough this time around, the holes from Harry's past would soon have flowers in them. Sirius could be enough for all the adults who had let Harry down.

"This shouldn't have happened."

"Yeah but it did and I can't change it, and it doesn't matter," Harry mumbled, though he hadn't pulled his hand away from Sirius's, despite how dismissive his tone was.

"It matters."

"No."

"Hate to break it to you, but it absolutely does," Sirius said lightly, "Look at me, please." Harry groaned, refusing to lift his head, mumbling something Sirius couldn't make out. But Sirius waited yet again until Harry met his gaze, teeth worrying his lower lip. "This....doesn't happen again. Yeah?" He said firmly, but gently. A tone that he was still trying to master, figuring out that was what worked best with his teenager. Too soft, and Harry wouldn't hear a word. Too hard, and Harry shut down.

Balancing the scales.

"I dunno what you want me to do, if I have detention with her, then I have detention with her and that's just--"

"You tell me."

"I can't do anything about it though! What's the point if--"

"You tell me," Sirius repeated.

"I'm telling you now that it doesn't--"

Sirius reached up and put his hand under Harry's chin, catching his attention and wrapping up the worry coming off his godson, "You tell me. That is what you do."

"But--"

"Here we can practice right now; tell me something."

Harry scowled, "My godfather's being an annoying prick."

"See? Wasn't so hard, was it?" Sirius grinned but sobered quickly, "You, my love, might not be able to do anything about it...you're exactly right, and you're a student. I'm not sure I would want you to do anything about it...but I can. And I will."

"But--"

"I'll keep my head, I promise you that, even if I am mad, but...babe, you need to tell me." Sirius dropped his hand from Harry's chin. "I love you too much and you matter the most to me."

Another pause. Static.

"Hey...Sirius?"

"Hm?"

"I had detention with Umbridge, and she made me use a quill that...I don't really understand it. But my hand has been itchy....burns sometimes...I guess."

"Let's take care of that then."

#sad sirius sunday #sirius and harry saturday #both! its both! #asks #grey answers #sirius black #harry potter

[boundless-ut]

📢 Saturday Update!

...so that visual update still isn't quite ready yet. I'm still working on it but moving to Godot means my workflow for creating levels also needs to change! That's taking a little longer than I'd like to adjust to but I think I've just about gotten the hang of it! Beyond just visuals though, this MEGA UPDATE is going to introduce some new and restored systems from the Unity build.

But it's been three weeks. Three whole weeks without a visual update. Since I'd prefer to break this streak above anything else, here's something else...

In the background of everything, I've been working on some redesigns of the cast! One of the earliest antagonists introduced was Candlevera, a mysterious flaming skeleton. Well, his design has received a bit of an update (Left: Old design / Right: New design!)

Setting up his character sprite in game will probably also be a big 'visual update' as I'll have to update my current animation system. It'll be fun to see him in action once he's set up, so I'm excited to get to work on him!

🔖 Twitter || BlueSky || Main Blog || Questions? (Love to hear feedback!)

#devlog #indie game #indie dev #boundlessut #uglytheater #candlevera

[cilogram]

The Sparks 2022 Japan Tour Extravaganza

(AKA. my time spent Sparks-ing for 4 days in a row)

Friday, Aug 19th:

Sonic Mania, Chiba

For this festival show I had a friend with me, and I regret that I was too embarrassed to pull him away from another band he knew to get to Sparks unreasonably early. We ended up arriving 20 mins early, which was not enough, haha.

Still, I was smiling like an idiot about 5 rows back, thankfully well within the front zone of the keyboard. I think from my blog you may have noticed that I like Ron. Obligatory keyboard photo before the show began:

In any case, Sparks came on at 11pm. When I saw the moving stage cameras, I was so excited to realize they'd be filming the performance professionally. You've probably all seen the video of this show by now and, if so, you'll know they did an abridged version of the 2022 US & Europe setlist.

I had sent my friend a playlist of Sparks songs the day before so he'd be ready for the show, including Shopping Mall Of Love, giving the caveat that "they probably won't play this one to a festival crowd." I was so happy to be proven wrong! That track was a personal highlight.

Other highlights of the Friday show for me include Tips For Teens (an all-time favourite) and Angst In My Pants, as well as, of course, every other track.

(And, lest we forget, Russell's banana dance.)

All That was a beautiful closer to a stellar show. The energy both on- and off-stage was so high, and my friend (who stayed til 5am when the festival ended) said that Sparks gave the best performance of the whole event :')

I felt pretty mesmerized hearing their songs live for the first time, seeing Sparks being real in front of me...

Everything I love about their music was just all coalescing and it was such a fun experience. The crowd was also great, as you can see in the video. What a night!

Saturday, Aug 20th:

Ginza Tsutaya book shop: the Q&A

This particular book shop is really beautiful, and has a very impressive arts section. You can't see its beauty from the Q&A video because the event space is a small, screened-off area, but please enjoy this image from their website:

When we went in at first we got our blu ray or dvd of the documentary, signed by Ron and Russell.

(Not very relevant, but adorably one of the staff members tested sitting on the interview chairs and failed at least 6 times to get on one, such was the tight arrangement of the furniture)

The MC explained that they'd taken audience questions beforehand and would pick 'the good ones' (a bold lie!) to ask Sparks. I say that just because a few were quite inane questions, and some they've been getting asked since the band's inception. Poor Sparks, they can't seem to escape such things... but the answers they gave were all very thoughtful, and they politely answered even the not-great ones with patience and tact. Russell especially steered a few awkward questions into something a bit more worthwhile. Ron did most of the talking, though, if I remember correctly.

Edit: if you haven't seen it, you can watch it here.

And if you fear the bad questions, I suggest at least watching the very end for amusing parting words from Sparks. (Out of respect for Ron and Russell, I obviously cannot disclose details of the depraved scene that took place after the camera was switched off.)

Admittedly, I wish it had been a more intellectually-themed talk about their career and living an artistic life, as the event description seemed to suggest, but with it also being a promo for the release of The Sparks Brothers on DVD, I understand it was mostly aimed towards new fans.

I was glad that I went, anyway. Getting to hear them talk normally in person was really nice. They seem very personable, (and patient, I say again!).

Sunday, Aug 21st:

Summer Sonic in Osaka.

A mostly-outdoor festival, at which Sparks played on the only indoor stadium stage (thank you, Sparks, it was a humid 36° outside).

This was much wilder than the Chiba version of the festival on Friday. Learning my lesson from that day, I made sure to go to Sparks' stage eeeaaarly. 2 whole acts early. And it paid off! I got to stand in the front row, something I'd never done before at any gig, and the experience was really... incredible. Obligatory keyboard photo before the show began, #2:

I've never danced so much in all my life. I'm not kidding when I say I almost threw up on the way back to the hotel from how much jumping around I'd done.

The audience were great in Osaka, too. Impressive synchronization with the songs, so many hands in the air at all times. The setlist that day was pared-down to just the big hit, danceable songs, which I very much understand for this kind of festival. At the end of the set, while Russell was blowing kisses to the audience, Ron dramatically wiped his mouth in disgust instead. Peak Sparks activity.

On the way out of the stadium, I met (Instagram user) satokina_2, whose illustrations you've maybe seen, and who showed me this incredibly impressive album art kimono made by (fellow IG user) ready.Freddie.1977

It's so well-made and vibrant... really something else!

The final day of the tour, Monday, Aug 22nd

WWWX Shibuya in Tokyo: the solo show

On the way to Tokyo, I of course listened to Bullet Train on the bullet train, and many giggles were had. I also watched the official video of Friday's show and relived all those good moments. I only wish the audio sounded as good as it had in real life, but that's to be expected. As someone who can't bear to bring out a camera/phone when artists are onstage, it means a lot that the festival recorded one of them in full.

When I got into the venue on Monday night, I did want to get some merchandise, but it meant queueing for it then and there and sacrificing a place near the front... I just couldn't do it.

Instead, I made it to about the 3rd row, again in direct Ron-view. Obligatory keyboard photo before the show began, #3:

The stage at WWWX is quite low, so although I wasn't front row, I was still so close to that glorious keyboard. I can't say how lucky I feel to have gotten ideal locations at all these shows.

Ron walked on with an umbrella up over his head and then... threw it away, still open. Yeahh! Russell walked on cheerfully, sans umbrella. He had on a black jacket instead of the full banana ensemble, with Hello Kitty badge and a rosette usually worn by event MCs.

The setlist this time was even closer to the US & Europe tour one, just without Edith Piaf and Get In The Swing. That meant we got 8 songs we hadn't heard until that night!

Hearing I Predict live for the first time was such a joy! One of my loves.

Same for Under The Table With Her. Russell's voice on that one, especially, was transcendental. Unbelievably perfect vocals... I wish I could hear it again!

(Truly the only way it could have been improved was if Ron had come in with the 'Dinner for 12. Thank you' XD)

Again, I may have danced and jumped too hard this time, but I had (reluctantly) skipped dinner so I wouldn't be in danger of throwing up again from all the jumping.

Speaking of danger, Ron took a step back near the end of Shopping Mall Of Love and tripped over the lights by the drum kit, but he yet lives. He proceeded to replace the 'yeah's in the song with a gently rueful, 'small stages...'

(The stage was indeed very small. The venue was, too)

Russell's performance during I Married Myself was so great, it was one of the best crowd-pleasers of the night, judging by the reaction it got. He really sells the 'hey baby!' looking into that mirror (another first for us at the 2022 Japan shows).

And how many times have I sat in my car, listening to the dramatically drawn-out "wonder boiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiíiiiiiiiiii" line, dreaming that I might one day hear it live? The answer is: many. And on Monday my dream was fulfilled, with an impeccable vocal performance!

We Love Each Other So Much was equally impeccable (impeccable impeccable, yeah)... I'm in awe when Russell does that song. I was so grateful to hear it live because the only studio versions available to listen to are of course from Annette, with just the actors singing. They deliver it well for the movie, but they're not Russell ;_; This is unrelated to everything else, but after one of the songs he almost thanked us in French and then stopped himself. Amazing.

We also got the 'boyfriend' version of Lawnmower, which I consider a grand and auspicious blessing.

For the encore, Ron came out wearing a t-shirt for his beloved film series, 'It's rough being a man' (男はつらいよ), and Russell stood behind him and held up the fabric at his arms so it was easier to see.

When the encore was over, Russell announced that their new, upcoming album is finished(!). Then he thanked us for supporting them and their work so much, and professed Sparks' Japan-love a little more, which was touching.

At the very end, he gave a cute 'see you later!' in adorably American-sounding Japanese, and then Ron said 'I love you!' in Japanese as he left the stage.

Such a cute, lovely way to end the show. All the gigs just had this incredible positive energy... such a great experience getting to hear all those songs live and see Ron and Russell up there playing for us. Their whole approach to creativity is so inspiring, and it just... feels good to be here on the earth at the same time they are. I'm so happy I made it to these shows.

Well, if you read this far, I really applaud you and thank you for indulging me in my tedious retelling/feelings.

Misc:

After the show, I was lucky enough to meet our very own @adreamofroses, who surprised me with some wonderful, hand-made Sparks pin badges. Thank you so much! I'll cherish them forever :')

And satokina_2 was giving out these beautiful commemorative art cards, and kindly held onto mine for me until the show was over (I didn't have a bag to keep them safe in). Thank you, satokina, for your great friendliness!

Enjoy the upcoming US festival shows, everyone! I can't wait to see photos and hear all about them. ✨

#Sparks #Sparks band #Sparks Tour 2022 #Sparksposting #in longform... overly long form #😅

[a-tale-never-told]

Historical Document#2: The Stasi Biography.

//Greetings everyone, this is Mod Sam. I present to you the second history review of the bunch, the Stasi review. Now I'm pretty sure that most of you were expecting this review instead of the Soviet one, given that the Stasi are currently the biggest threat to the blog as of this season, It would make sense to do an analysis on them and what their tactics and operations are. But due to my poor organizational skills, I instead did the Soviet one first, and that review was... disappointing to say the least, but now I understand why it wasn't as successful: it wasn't relevant to the main story yet.

//That's certainly not to say every historical post should be connected to the story, but given the stakes that we have now, it makes perfect sense to talk about them now and explain why they are so dangerous. How I didn't recognize that earlier is beyond me.

//But anyway, I think I did slightly better here in comparison to the last review, where it got way too overcomplicated for anyone to understand, aside from a few aspects. But I think I managed to make it understandable enough for you guys to understand. An added bonus is that the review is shorter, thus you don't have to spend hours reading it, so that's a drastic improvement.

//Given that I've seen a lot of Stasi-related asks during the story, consider this a firsthand survival guide on the Stasi, and what they do exactly firsthand. Consider them a more terrifying version of the KGB and the North Japanese secret police force, at least for now.

//I just want to apologize for the lack of activity on this blog for a while, aside from answering asks and me complaining. I've calmed down since the last time I made that rant, and I eventually realized that I need to take it easy with you guys and not force you because if there is anything people don't like, it's being told what to do, and I feel ashamed that I tried to do that. I hope you all can accept my forgiveness and just no that I meant no ill intentions towards you guys. I was just... so stressed that day and I pretty much lost it.

//But besides that, I'm ready to possibly get back into the story. If all goes to plan, I should have the next story chapter by around Friday or Saturday at the latest. But in the meantime, you have this file to occupy your attention while I start working on the next chapter, so be vigilant for a new chapter coming out soon.

//To close this post off, let me show you the ID card of Vladimir Putin while he was in the Stasi. And before you ask, yes, this is 100% real and accurate, this was actually what he looked like when he was younger. Viewer discretion is advised.

//At the very least, he had some hair, so I'll give him that.

//This shall probably be the last historical post I do for now, as I prefer to continue working on the story since these posts aren't going to really matter to anyone unless we focus on the actual plot itself. I know I just said that before, but I wanted to add more context as to why. Plus, it's pretty much a slog for me to write these long essays in Google Docs since I highly doubt anyone here reads a Google Doc for a review. Still, though, I hope you enjoyed these reviews as that's all you're going to get untill the end of this arc or even the season, it's up to my own volition on how I shall conduct this type of strategy.

//This is Mod Sam from A Tale Never Told, signing out for now. Have a great rest of the day everyone ^^.

#mod talks #history post #stasi #historical analysis #a tale never told #worldbuilding