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#so on so forth. ''oh you know Those People we all know who are just Like That''
pukanavis · 2 days
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Fuyume Hanamura Idol Story 2
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ーA basic studio within the ES building, two years since the establishment of ES
Fuyume: …
Midori: …
(What am I supposed to do?)
(This new kid…Hanamura-san, was it? The staff told him that I'm going to be using my experience in the field to guide him through today’s job.)
(It’s already been a whole 20 minutes since then and neither of us have said a word to each other..)
Fuyume: …
Midori: (I-I have to do what they told me to and teach him what he needs to do. I know I suck at this stuff but between the two of us, I’m the one who’s more familiar with this type of work.)
(But there’s no way I can bring myself to do it. I really, really don’t want to.)
(This kid is radiating an aura that screams ‘don’t talk to me’...this whole time, he’s been doing something on his phone while occasionally whispering and muttering to himself.)
(I think…he’s even been taking selfies and posting them online…?)
(It feels like he’s in a world of his own making.)
(I’m scared~, I don’t like it~ , I don’t wanna talk to him~...)
(Now that I think about it, he was there listening when the staff put me in charge of coaching him so he must know what’s going on too.)
(He should be turning to me and saying something like ‘Please give me your guidance, Senpai!’. It’s the polite thing to do, really.)
Fuyume: …Um.
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Midori: !? Y-Yes? What’s the matter…?
Fuyume: …They’re calling Yume.
Midori: (Huh, what does that mean? Is he one of those people that hear voices that aren’t there? Is he crazy?)
Fuyume: It looks like it’s time for Yume to go up now.
Midori: (Oh, right, the staff are calling for him. Seems like they’re ready to start the shoot.)
(What do I do? I didn’t teach him how to do a single thing.)
(From what I’ve heard, it sounds like this kid is a popular amateur model? I think they call it a cos…player?)
(There’s no need for me to come in acting high and mighty and tell him what to do, right?)
(I bet he’s already familiar with how these jobs work. He seems so confident for some reason…?)
Fuyume: Fufufu. Yume will do his best.
Today, you’re all invited to step into Yume’s world
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Fuyume: Sniffle. Sniffle sniffle.
Midori: (What am I supposed to do?)
(All that confidence he was giving off was just a front…)
(He doesn’t know the first thing about professional modelling and kept insisting on using methods from his amateur days.)
(I wonder what that one staff member did to have this kid going off at him the entire time? Just when I thought he’s behaving well, he suddenly started berating and denying that guy’s humanity.)
(Not to mention all the complaints he has about the lighting or the costume...)
(He started telling the staff to take pictures from his cutest angle and even asked to wear the outfit he had brought along himself.)
(After all the back and forth, it was agreed to put the shoot on hold for a while. When this guy realised the staff weren’t going to listen to his opinions, that's when the tears started...)
(The staff asked me to see if I could do something to motivate him or change his mindset but…is that even in the job description? Shouldn’t this be the responsibility of a manager or something?)
(Who am I kidding? We probably wouldn’t be in this mess if I had just done my job and shown him what to do from the start.)
(I’m at fault here too, so I feel like I should at least do something.)
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Fuyume: Midori-sama.
Midori: Huh? Yes, what’s…wait, ‘Midori-sama’ ?
Fuyume: Yume has seen you in a magazine before and thought you were as dashing as a prince. Fufu.
So you’re Midori-sama. ‘Cause you’re a prince. Fufufu.
Needless to say, you don’t have what it takes to be called Yume’s prince, since that title is already taken by another.
There is no sin in beauty. Fufufufu.
Midori: (Huh…? What is he talking about…? I don’t understand a word that’s coming out of his mouth. Are all the kids like this these days…?)
(Hey, wait a second? He’s acting surprisingly unfazed for somebody that I thought was crying into his hands just a minute ago? Was he faking it…?)
Fuyume: Melon soda, plum and kelp tea, coffee.
Midori: ? What? Are you casting some kind of spell?
Fuyume: I’m trying to make the drink that Esu found during his adventure. What else was in it again…?
Midori: I-It’s going to taste awful if you mix so many random flavours together.
Fuyume: I’ll be able to drink it. I will drink it. I want to relive Esu’s story for myself.
Bottoms up. Glug glug…
……
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Fuyume: …
Midori: Tastes awful, huh…? I warned you not to drink it. You can tell just from looking at it how bad of an idea that is.
Here, spit it into this cup.
Fuyume: Urgh, Yume has a long way to go.
His image of a perfect princess is still far out of reach.
—I’m sorry, Midori-sama.
Midori: Uh, for what? I can’t keep up with this conversation…
Fuyume: Yume messed up again…he couldn’t keep his ego in check and screwed up the job. He even made Midori-sama mad.
So…Yume is sorry.
Midori: Oh, uh, you did cause a lot of problems but…no, nevermind, that’s not true. I should be apologising too. I was trusted to be your mentor but I haven’t taught you a single thing.
I’ve failed as a senpai, huh?
Fuyume: It’s alright. Besides, even if you had given Yume some pointers, if he didn’t like what he heard, he'd probably just get annoyed and ignore you.
He’s always been like this—so egotistical. It’s the only princess quality he has.
Regardless, Yume is sorry. The staff member that Yume was blowing up at was someone he had met before. They'd shown up to one of Yume’s photo shoots in the past with a super bigheaded attitude.
They were giving out business cards and masquerading as a professional. It was seriously the worst, they started taking over and ruined the mood on set.
A photo shoot is supposed to be a part of Yume’s world.
Ever since that day, Yume hasn’t been able to forget all the hate and frustration that he felt. When he saw that they were here today, he couldn’t stop his emotions from bursting out.
Yume can’t stand being in their line of sight. He hates being treated like a toy and having that person making up their own ideas of him…so, uhm, he’s sorry.
Yume honestly never wanted to cause all this trouble for you.
Yume was hoping we could get along…he wanted to talk to you but he was too embarrassed and nervous to know how to.
You looked like you were in a bad mood today, Midori-sama. The vibe you were giving off made it seem like you didn’t want anyone to approach you.
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Midori: (Oh…)
(So we both had the same impression of each other…I should’ve known that he’d be feeling nervous about his first professional job.)
(Even I was feeling anxious when I first arrived on set.)
(I know how it feels to be in his position…that’s exactly why they asked me to be his mentor today.)
(I’m terrible, aren’t I? I’m never going to make any growth.)
Hanamura-san.
Fuyume: Yes?
Midori: Let’s go and apologise to the staff once you’ve had a drink and taken a moment to calm down.
Fuyume: Yume doesn’t want to apologise.
Midori: Oh…okay, I understand. If you want, I can go and ask for the staff member that doesn't like you to be removed.
It’s within our right to request things like that. You can even step away from jobs you don’t want to do too.
Fuyume: …
Midori: That being said, if we don’t do our jobs properly, we’ll cause problems for even those that don’t have anything against you, Hanamura-san.
We'll end up being hated and labelled as 'someone I don't want to work with' by the people around us.
Fuyume: Yume hates being hated.
Midori: Then let’s go and give them a proper apology. Once we’ve done that, we can focus on finishing off the job.
It might be late, but I’ll teach you the correct methods to use. Since I’m your senpai, I’ll make sure I put you on the right path.
Admittedly, this’ll be tough for me…I’m not important enough to be bossing people around, and I suck at talking to people too.
Fuyume: Mm…Yume isn’t good at it either. People always seem to get confused when he tries to have a normal conversation with them. It’s weird.
Midori: That was meant to be a normal conversation earlier…? You really do live in a world of your own.
(Crap, I didn’t mean to say that out loud. He’s probably going to get mad at me now. Judging by the way he seems to hate being challenged, I’ll bet that he always had his way in the amateur world.)
Fuyume: Fufufu. Thank you, Midori-sama.
Midori: (Huh? He took it surprisingly well? This kid doesn't make any sense to me…)
Fuyume: Yume wants to put his world on display for everyone to see.
He's grateful that you noticed its existence.
You made Yume happy, so Yume must thank you.
Fufufufu, Yume just had a sudden burst of motivation. He’s going to turn over a new leaf and do the very best he can to make sure this job is a success. 
Midori: R-Right…I’m glad you’ve found some motivation.
I’ll do some reflecting of my own and give it my all too.
Let’s work together to finish this job, Hanamura-san.
Fuyume: Stop saying ‘Hanamura-san’, Yume wants you to call him ‘Yume’ instead. It’s been getting on his nerves all day. Yume doesn’t feel like working anymore.
Midori: Whaaat…?
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unproduciblesmackdown · 8 months
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billions(tm): it's incredible how we just provide a little snippet of material designed to be "guy we all want to push down the stairs immediately somehow" and through this amazing acting alchemy it becomes gold. electric. magnificent. we can't get enough so we will just keep writing this loser character and the actor will somehow keep bringing the dazzling transmutation through his ability
actor will roland: [is aware autistic people are real]
#this is at least half humorous in several ways lmao but also like fr...#winston billions#will roland has pretty much said he is aware that autistic people real. and not [ppl's utterly off the walls assumptions abt what Defines#Autism or what an Autistic Person is like and how you would Know]#i don't think that Billions(tm) would be very much better at that than re: say; taylor's being nonbinary (surprisingly alright yet. u kno)#quant kid 2 could've been anyone but writing Winston is like so certainly the common deal of the inadvertently autistic character#drawing from all the autistic people allistic ppl encounter all thee time without being aware & deciding they're annoying / jerks / too#weird to live too pathetic to die / grating nerds / Funnily Odd in a way you deign to merely raise an eyebrow or scrunch your face at....#so on so forth. ''oh you know Those People we all know who are just Like That''#and deciding they must be ''just like that'' b/c they're either too arrogantly rude &/or clueless / Unaware to be neurotypically superior#also do not get me wrong lmao big old proponent of Did You Know That? Actors Act. Now You Know#so of course yes will's acting is off the shits i mean here i am am i right. and he is using it when he is acting.#the acting talent Is off the shits. the tiniest moments they give him & he CRUSHES KILLS it really is amazing i'm not waving it off at all#cue twitter randos so betrayed when kelly aucoin is not dollar bill & is like ''yes in my acting job i'm playing this fuckin asshole''#meanwhile i'm still following the interviewer who a) asked will anything abt billions b) talked abt the immediate striking intro of will's#as quant kid 2 And the immediate draw of / effervescent dynamic between winston & taylor. Someone Who Gets It#anyway it's like will can fathom that actually the people who are Always ''acting wrong'' w/their bad grating vibes no matter what they do#are not always Those People(tm) who We all know & loathe right....thee magic of knowing winston can be someone fully earnest#and of course always actually trying; & having perfectly comprehensible wants & needs. damn how's he doing that#bringing a certain je ne sais quoi to this Insufferable Loser Nerd material! so we don't mess with the process.#i.e. we will only ever let his role get dunked on forever b/c sure can't fathom anything else anyways. our Correct characters could never..#only tuk; adjacent in wrong nerd loserdom; can be his friend. rian who is correct but zany with it can be his abusive friend
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steddie-there · 1 year
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Steve is bitchy. It's a known fact. He's a reformed mean girl and bitch is like a second language to him. Whether it's scathing commentary about Family Video customers almost before they're out the door,
"So apparently it's national hit on someone young enough to be your granddaughter day, who knew we had such a gross holiday?"
snarky conversations with the kids,
"Well, whaddya know, Dustin, would you look at this?" "What? "It's the coke you said wasn't in the fridge! Isn't it amazing how it just magically appeared?" "Oh, shut up, Steve." "I'm just so completely in awe!"
or calling out the people that still give Eddie nasty looks (and doesn't that make Eddie's heart grow three sizes and threaten to pop out of his chest and burrow into Steve's?),
"You know, Carol, if you keep making that face, it might stick like that. But look on the bright side, at least then the outside would be as hideous as the inside!"
Eddie adores all of it. Loves Steve's mile-wide mean streak. Loves how he can use it to tease the people he loves or decimate the latest idiot he's been forced to deal with.
But Eddie's favorite, the best, the most wonderful, absolutely fantastic moments of Steve's bitchiness? Those happen while he's driving. It doesn't matter what exactly has him riled up about another driver, Steve always has something sarcastic on the tip of his tongue to bitch about them with.
"Do you look as stupid as you drive? Dumbass."
"Jeeze, I never knew the white line was for driving on. What an amazing thing you've discovered!"
"Oh, apparently I missed the memo where 35 mph got changed to 55. Eddie, remind me to check the speed limit sign the next time we drive through here. God, what an impatient asshole."
No matter what it is, it always has Eddie stifling his laughter behind his hand. But this last time - they're at a four-way stop and the car turning across from them definitely went before it was their turn and Steve says, "Hmm, seems someone missed the lesson on taking turns in kindergarten," with that little bitchy tilt to his head - Eddie can't help the guffaw that bursts out of his mouth.
Steve looks at him from the corner of his eye. "What are you giggling about?"
"You. You just - you get so bitchy at the other drivers and, I swear to god, man, it's the funniest shit." He laughs again, says fervently, "Christ, I love you, Stevie."
And then he freezes. Realizes what he said. Takes a deep, horrified breath. It's too soon, they only just started dating, he can't say something like that, he's... He backtracks. "Uh... I mean, uh, I love when you - "
And then freezes again when Steve slides his hand off the steering wheel and onto his thigh, fingers curling around the inside. "So, you love me, huh?"
Eddie chances a glance over at Steve. Despite the teasing tone in his voice, there's something soft around his eyes and the edges of his smile. Something almost... hopeful.
Eddie swallows and decides fuck it. "Yeah, yeah I do," he tells Steve quietly.
Steve makes a quiet sound that goes straight to Eddie's heart. When he peeks over again, Steve is looking back and forth between Eddie and the road and his expression is so open and tender and happy that Eddie doesn't regret for a second what he said, even if it is too soon. "I love you, too, Eds," Steve says and Eddie feels his stomach swoop with butterflies. He puts his hand on Steve's, squeezes it, tangles their fingers together, grins bright at this man he loves so very much.
And if, after that, Steve goes out of his way to play up his bitchiness whenever Eddie is in the car and Eddie never stifles his laughter at it again, well, that's between the two of them, isn't it?
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ejundo · 6 months
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˗ ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗
loud outgoing m. reader x introverted cold quiet oc [damien z.]
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warnings . + ♡
semi-public ? , hickeys [claiming?} , teasing , alcohol , drinking , drunk sex, hate sex blabla, pwop, slight bruise (just aggressive sex) , manhandling, .. spit for lube, not proofread , reader is implied to have a cock. bad grammar&purposely lowercase! 。>﹏<。
smut fem dni. ty!
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it's... a mystery to how you and damien zicado ever became friends... the two of you had always had pointless arguments and were clearly polar opposites, everything about you guys. whether it would be the... style! or your personalities. it was different.
see.. you were extremely obnoxious and loud, in a somewhat comforting way. to the point it aggravated damien heavily, you and damien just couldn't stand each other at all. you. thinking of damien as a boring boy who had nothing interesting about him, of course you weren’t wrong. there was nothing intriguing about damien, yet that didn’t stop him from having a decent amount of friends, those same friends being your friends and that is how you met!
. ♡
"damien, you are seriously annoying the hell out of me!" the angry voice spat out your angry voice, you and damien zicado were in a heated argument their only friends who had invited them had went off .. somewhere in the loud club. it was honestly a surprise that the two could even hear each other bickering back and forth.
your face was scrunched up as your eyes squinted at damien giving him a weird look. he simply rolled his eyes at you "oh wow really? me? annoying? woah! get this y.n l.n im not you! " damien spat back. continuing to go off on each other, some people looking at you and him with concern.
damien furrowed his eyebrows the alcohol was fueling his anger as he looked at your figure with hate yet a hint of lust could be seen behind those eyes and it was clear that the two wanted each other so.. badly. well.. he wanted you so badly. the lust was evident and practically surrounded him. causing you to be as enchanted, that didn’t stop you from talking back to him.
though…
in a flash, you were suddenly grabbed by your wrist and held against the wall that damien was previously leaning on "you never know when to shut up. well let me just help you out yeah?" blinking rapidly you didn’t know what to feel other then shock. a whimper left your lips as both his hands held yours against the wall.
by the way damien was holding your wrist it was clear that it would leave a somewhat bruise. his grip tightened as damien pulled you in, lips connecting as damien leaned into it, to shocked to even process what was happening you just let it happen. confusion overwhelmed your body as you tried processing the situation. kissing a hot dude— or rather making out with a hot dude after some heated argument. both a loss and a win?
you had tried to calm down before realizing that he taking a deep breath through his nose and leaned into the session, tongue and all.
the grip on your wrist loosened and soon enough it turned into a more passionate and heated kiss, smiling in relief as you wrapped ur arms gently around his neck. damien opened his eyes and remembered that you and him were still in public
“mmm, as much as i want to show everybody how good i’m gonna treat you… we wouldn’t want to be seen as those types of people right baby?..” damien hummed as he caressed your waist. you could only nod a smile on your lips as you held onto damien for dear life…. this man was doing something to you.
. ♡
you heavily panted as you stared hatefully at damien throuh the mirror,all he was doing was prepping you with his finger and you were acting a mess..
“f..-ngh! fuck….” you gripped onto the bathroom sink as your legs shook uncontrollably. “damien….th…iss is extremely, unsanitary…..” you hissed, damien hummed as he patted your right ass cheek gently. He looked at you through the mirror making direct eye contact, a grin plastering on his face as he watched you become flustered at the contact.
“that’s to bad?… if you want me so badly then you can deal with it.” damien pulled his fingers out a whine emerging from your lips at the sudden emptiness only to be silenced by damien’s fingers “be a good boy and clean ‘em. please.” he said quietly, you did as told damien watching you intently before focusing his self to your ass? or rather something else. you shook your head and continued sucking on the fingers.
you observed your appearance, obviously looking more disheveled compared to damien as half of your clothes were discarded except for your shirt… surprisingly… meanwhile damien was still fully dressed in his lazy clothing… despite going to a club he still wore baggy lazy clothing… no wonder you hate him.
rolling your eyes you opened your mouth to signal that you were done cleaning the fingers. he dragged them lazily out of your mouth and rested his other hand on your hip, now using his dominant hand. focused on the mirror u watched as damien pulled a condom out of his pocket raising an eyebrow. was he planning this or did he just want to get a fuck?
shaking the thought you let out a soft sigh until you hears damien spit, you looked back at him and watched as he lathered the spit “you bought a condom but not lube?” damien glanced over to you, he furrowed his eyebrows before focusing back on his own cock.
you were surprised he didn’t say anything back but shrugged it off. “if you want to stop, safe word is…. green. and if you cant speak, knock harshly on the sink 4 times, alright?” you nodded, and held the counter.
damien wasted no time in fucking you, he slammed in a gasp erupted from your mouth as you lifted your leg in surprised, “hng— fuck!—“ you held your mouth as damien went at an almost inhumane speed. well, thats how it seemed.
groans and grunts were coming from damien meanwhile loud whines and whimpers erupted from you, legs shaking and back arched as sweat trailed down your face and legs. taking a glance into the mirror damien looked like he was in a trance. removing your hand you replaced it with the sink gripping tightly and harshly, "mmhnn.. fuck!- damien..." whispering his name. He was holding your waist so tightly you were extra positive you were gonna get bruises.. seeing that a bruise was forming on your wrist from earlier... many minutes later, you were reaching ur climax "dami- hnhh.. im gonna cum......" you whimpered as you stared up at the mirror, you didn't expect to see damien staring right back, with a grunt he nodded, possibly saying that you could cum. not like you were gonna listen if he told you not too..
and so, you held the sink even tighter as your back arched a loud whine erupting as you reached your climax, the white goo shooting to the floor. damien followed behind as he stopped thrusting. though it was weird.. as you could feel the warmth of his cum seeping inside.
"i thought you wore a condom..." you managed to mutter, he pulled his cock out before glancing at the broken condom. "woops... i don't have anything and I hope you don't either.." you simply shook your head. "im not a hoe." damien rolled his eyes before his head snapped towards the noise, causing for you to look aswell.
it was his and your friend staring at the two of you. with pure shock on their faces..
"err.. awkward..?"
. ♡
this didn't take aslong as i thought it would? BUT i am glad that i finally posted something after like.. 4 weeks. maybe idfk..? but ATLAS! i am donee :3 i hoped you enjoyed meeting damien "zicardo" Z. !!!!!! meowmeow byeee [MY REQUEST ARE OPENN!! pls request i need more motivation.. and you guys are able to ask literally anything idm :D]
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misshugs · 22 days
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The elevator game || Colby Brock x Reader
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[req by anon] You knew you were sensitive to the other side, but you didn't expect a silly little game from the internet to give you this much of an impact.
warnings: cursing, paranormal activity, reader getting (slightly) attacked by ghosts, sensitive/medium!reader, degrading, angst? still not sure what the meaning of it is tbh
a/n: this is my first request ever, i hope i didn't let you down dear anon. Concept based on this video
word count: 2.5k (not proofread)
[u n e d i t e d]
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
"What's up guys, it's Sam and Colby!" Colby screamed towards the camera, as always.
"Today we are here at the Driskill Hotel, also known as the most haunted hotel here in Texas." Sam continues.
"We're here to figure out why this place is so haunted and what message the ghosts here wanna tell the people. And for this video guys, we have a very special someone!" Colby says, moving to the side so that you're visible to the camera.
Waving at it and smiling, you were greeted by Colby's hands wrapped around your shoulders. "Thank you, thank you. Hello, dear people. It is I." They laugh.
"How are you feeling about this? Are you excited?" Sam asks, putting the camera on the both of you.
"I am! The place is HUGE and honestly, just looks so good!"
"Right?? When we got in it was just like a burst of shock at how gorgeous this place is." Sam said and Colby nodded.
"If it weren't haunted I'd probably come here more often, but I can already feel all of these... energies walking around, I wouldn't last too long."
"Oh, right. For anybody that doesn't know, Y/n is actually a bit of medium?" Colby asks while looking at you, making you nod. "Yeah, so she's sensitive to like the energy of shadow figures and things like that, so maybe we'll get to experience something interesting tonight!"
"I'd say hopefully not but that wouldn't make it fun I guess." You laugh and so do they while you explain it is a pain in the ass to feel those things constantly. "It is almost as if you're constantly paranoid about someone looking at you, y'know what I mean?"
"Oh yeah, for sure." Colby noded.
"Yeah so that, but those stares are more physical than anything, there are times where I can feel people walking behind me and when I look back, there's no one."
"I can just imagine how creepy that must feel." Sam said and you chuckled.
"Oh yeah. You have no idea." You smiled.
"Well then, shall we begin the investigation?" Colby asked you, smiling. You quickly smiled back.
"Of course." You kissed him softly before Sam could even turn off the camera.
"Oh, gross man. I'll have to edit that out." He said jokingly and you laughed, rolling your eyes.
"But seriously though, let's keep it moving." You said and they agreed.
Walking around, there were a few pieces of lore they had to explain to you beforehand. About the one and only Driskill who created the hotel, about the little girl that broke her neck, so on and so forth.
There were times when you had this eerie feeling of constantly being followed, so you kept your arms interlocked with Colby's.
"You're doing okay so far?" He asked, cautiously caressing your hand. You nodded.
"Yeah, just feel like we're being followed." You replied, looking back where there was no one there.
"Really??" Sam asked, looking back as well but seeing nothing. "Do you think we caught a ghost's interest?"
"I mean, probably. There is a difference in between someone that's coming just for the hotel part and us, that are investigating and directly needing their intervention. We're making them curious."
"Well, for whatever spirit that might be following us, you're welcome to answer our questions later on tonight." Colby said loud enough for anything around to listen to it.
Honestly, even those small gestures made you so madly in love with him. The way he touches you softly just for you to make sure you're not alone and he's here for you is such a warming feeling.
Wilst looking around the current room, Colby walked up to a random closed door and tried to walk through.
"She said no closed doors!" Sam exclaimed, probably talking about the tour guide's rules of the place.
"Unless it's... unlocked." Colby responded, making Sam roll his eyes.
"Oop, it's Jim Hogg's room." You said, looking up.
"Who's that?" Sam asked.
"I dunno, it says its name on the top." You point up and they just laughed at the comment. I mean, what were they expecting? You had no idea about whatever story roams around these halls asides from the two main ones they've explained.
"Also I don't think you should be trying even more, like if it's hard to go in it's probably because you're not supposed to."
"We have a bad reputation of breaking into places." Sam admitted and you smiled.
"Yeah, I know. I remember that." You chuckle and hold Colby's hand to pull away from the door.
As they kept on chatting and making interesting comments here and there, you found the elevator and pointed it out. "Oh, is this the one?" Colby asked Sam and he just gave him a stare.
"This is the one what?" You ask and they look at eachother.
Sam sighed. "We were going to keep it until the time came, but we may have a little challenge for tonight that has to do with the elevator."
"Ooooh sounds fun. I wanna do it." You smile.
"You sure?? You have to be by yourself." Colby asked, worried but amused.
"Do you think I can't do this, Mr. Brock? That's offensive." You spat, crossing your hands around your chest.
"No! I meant-" He tried to explain, but you quickly interrupted.
"Cancelled, I tell you. Cancelled!" You look away with your eyes closed, trying not to laugh at the stupid situation unfolding.
"Great." You heard him sigh in defeat as Sam started laughing at the both of you. Looking back with a smile on your face, you hugged him.
"Alright, let's get going already." You giggled, gaining a kiss on the top of your head from your boyfriend.
Walking inside the elevator, it almost felt as if it quickly went down in an unnatural way.
"Did you guys feel like... the elevator dropping three inches?"
"Yeah, kinda of." Sam said.
"Three inches is a lot." Colby replied.
"Three inches is huge." Sam continued.
"I can vouch." You said.
"Mass..." Colby began talking but couldn't hold in the laugh after you said that.
Going back to the main lobby, you all reached out to a girl that was apparently the tourguide. She quickly explained the story of the place, how it ended up being the renouned hotel it came to be.
When she explained that the smell of cigar was one of the main ways Driskill manifested, your eyes went wide. "You're kidding."
"No, did you smell it before?" She asked.
"I did! But it was like, close to the entrance so I thought that maybe someone was smoking. I did find it rare because it was just a glimpse of it for like a solid second and then gone." You explained, making the girl smile.
"Well, that was him."
"No way." Colby said, smiling at you.
"Yup." She nodded, continuing to explain as you all started walking back to the elevator. Going inside, the door closed only to be opened again. "Oh?"
"Did we just pressed five and went to one? It's haunted!" Sam exclaimed.
"That was weird." Colby said, looking at the door.
"It was, that was so weird." The guide said, trying to close the door once again, only for it to open again.
"Does it do that often?" You asked and she shook her head.
"No! It doesn't." She walked back out and talked to someone from out side. "Are you fucking with us?"
"That's so strange- oh, I hit it." You whispered. The guide came back in.
"But you see it, right? I'm pressing five and it like start to go up but then it stops." The door closes once again, only for them to open.
"Oh my god." Sam said, whispering.
"And we're doing a challenge here?" You asked confused, making them laugh.
"Not here exactly." Colby smiled.
"Lemme- I'll go out." You said, walking out of the elevator, watching as the doors began to close, only for them to open once again. "Oh no, that's- that's a malfunction alright."
"And you said it, these malfuction all the time." Colby said to the guide as they walked out of the elevator.
When Sam did it by himself, it started working all over again.
"What the fuck??" Colby yelled.
"Are we like fat? Is it fat shaming us?" You whined, making everyone laugh.
And so, even though your night barely started, you were already having some activity to say the least.
And it kept being that way all night. Constant responses from spirits, intelligent ones at that. The little girl, the woman from the vortex room... all the way down to the challenge you've been anticipating the whole night round.
The elevator challenge.
"I think it might be just me but every single time we pass through this side of the hotel I feel like actually throwing up."
"Wait, really?" Colby asked, worried.
"Like an eerie feeling more than anything, almost like I'm kinda feeling a bit dizzy whenever we pass through here."
"Are you sure you want to do this? You can still back out, or I could go in with you." Colby tried to make you change your mind, but you were settled in it.
"No, I have to do it alone. What if it doesn't work because we're together? You're not gonna let me do this right?"
"I do! I'm just worried." Colby admitted, making you smile.
"You cutie. I love you so much." You said, smiling at him and cupping his face before giving him a quick peck on the lips.
"Y'all are gonna make me puke, another part I'm gonna have to cut out." Sam joked, making you giggle.
"Alright, alright. So, how does this work?" You ask, hugging yourself as you wait for instructions.
It was a simple game. Supposedly, you had to hit the buttons of the elevator in a specific order. In the last one, you had to invite in a lady. If the ritual worked, you were supposed to start going up into another world. If it didn't, well, nothing happened and it failed.
"So... I'm about to get isekai'd? We're going to an anime, brothers." You laughed at your own joke while they handed you your camera.
"I send you the order, just in case." Sam continued, and you nodded.
"Thank you, 'cause I already forgot." You turned on your phone as well as the camera and walked in.
"Any last words?" Colby asked cheekishly, making you smile.
"See you in the other side." You answered, before the door closed. You sighed, putting the camera up to your face. "Alright, so... I'm supposed to hit this one first." Switching the camera back to the buttons, you hit the number four.
It began moving. "Oh, good. It would've been a mess if it already fucked up. Alright..." You sighed. "I didn't told them this, but I do find the thought of getting stuck in an elevator horrifying. I just agreed because maybe it might help me out, but it doesn't work the fact that I can feel so many spirits around this area specifically every time we walk past it." You explain before getting on the next floor, touching the next button.
Back down on the lobby, Sam and Colby were talking.
"I didn't want her to do it, honestly. I was gonna do it myself." Sam said.
"Right? She's our guest too, what if something happens to her? That would be the death of me."
"Don't jinx it, brother. She'll be alright."
Boy they were wrong.
Halfway through, your vision started to get blurry, your legs were shaky and you couldn't brush off the feeling of pressure on your chest. It was starting to make you nervous, even more so the fact you were alone.
You started thinking to yourself. What if something really did happen? What if you summon something your body couldn't handle? What if it really did send you to another world?
It happened so quickly, that you have already reached the last floor before you knew it. Gulping down your dry throat, you began to speak. "Alright, if there's something... out... oh fuck." Your vision got blurry and you could feel an inmense ammout of power flushing through the elevator doors even before it opened up.
You couldn't hold it together, it was too much for you to handle as you were suspecting before. Although you tried to stay up, your legs couldn't hold your weight up anymore and you passed out, falling down to the floor, hitting your head strongly onto the hard floor of the elevator.
Luckily, the ritual didn't work. It began going down and the guys, mainly Colby, were anxiously waiting for the doors to open. When they did, their faces fell.
Colby screamed out your name, quickly rushing in and holding your head. "Love?? Sweetheart, what happened? Wake up, please. Oh God." He began shaking, carrying you outside of the elevator so that it was slightly more comfortable.
"What happened? Oh my fucking God." Sam whispered, grabbing your camera from the elevator's floor and walking out.
"She's not responding, Sam." Colby nervously said, making sure you were at least still alive.
You were.
"Should I call an ambulance or something?" Sam asked. "Oh, no. I have the keys with me."
"Let's take her to the hospital, quickly." He lifted you up from the floor and hurriedly got out of the building and to the hospital.
You were alright, luckily. It seemes you have just fainted, but you falling down to the floor and hitting your head so hard made it a bit more complicated than what it had to be.
Colby felt bad, horrible even to think that this could've happened to you.
He should've been more careful, he should've known you were too sensitive to all of these energies so that you would go alone and out to make something so nerve racking. He should've been more insisting, rather than going with the flow merely because of a video.
He let his love have that type of experience because of a mere video.
It devastared him. Made him feel absolutely awful about it. While waiting for you to wake up, he kept on downgrading himself thinking about how he's the worst possible boyfriend.
It all stops when you finally wake up. Looking around the white room, confused.
"What happened?"
"It looks like you fainted... I'm so sorry for letting you do that all by yourself, I should've stopped you, I should've at least gone with you, I'm so sorry that you had to go through that because-"
"Love. Love!" You held his cheeks softly, making him quietly stop ranting, you smiled. "You know I wanted to do it, I was the stupid one for forgetting that big energy rafts can affect me a lot, I'm so sorry baby." You kissed his nose, reassuring him everything was alright.
And honestly, he needed to hear it. From you, specifically. Sam was trying to make him calm down but it didn't really work. It had to be you, your voice, your smile.
The one thing that made him whole all over again.
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
I MAY HAVE DONE TOO MUCH FILLER FOR NO GODDAMN REASON- also hoping that dear anon liked it-
thank you for reading, loves~! likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated <3
~nikkõ
328 notes · View notes
entitled-fangirl · 3 months
Text
A civilized meal.
Joel Miller x reader
Summary: Joel admires Bill and Frank's daughter at the table. Bill hopes his glares are enough to kill him.
Words: 1,378
Warnings: gun, talk of infected, tension.
Author's note: I just know for a fact Bill and Frank are such chaotically great parents dude. Girl dad energies.
Masterlist &lt;3
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“Well, this really is just- it’s amazing.”
Tess and Joel sat at the outdoor table of Bill and Frank’s. The two lovers had invited the QZ members to lunch. Well, Frank did. That much was obvious by the smile plastered on his face and the handgun in Bill’s hand.
Their daughter sat next to Bill at the table. 
Frank had found her outside their home one day, cold and starving. Of course, Frank took her in. How could he not have? And Bill, as always, rolled his eyes and kept an eye out for any signs of danger from her. When none showed, he hesitantly opened his heart out to her. The two adopted her under their wings. But that was many years ago. Now, she was very much a woman. Beautiful, graceful, innocent. Bill and Frank had made sure of that. They gave her everything in the world that she didn’t have before. Bill would sometimes teach her things about how to survive, but Frank would always interrupt, saying his lover was corrupting her, and as long as Bill was around, everything would be fine. She didn’t need those things. Not under the careful watch of the two men she adored.
She sat next to Bill, her eyes watching the two visitors curiously. She hadn’t seen anyone other than her parents in over 10 years. And God, were these people interesting. 
It seemed that went both ways. Because Joel watched her just the same.
“Can you not, please?” Frank asked Bill politely. 
Bill listened, of course. He set the handgun down on the table, but kept it pointed at Joel.
Bill was not an oblivious man. He was noticing the looks Joel was giving his baby girl. And he didn’t like it at all. 
Not that this was a dirty look. No, not at all. It was a watchful, almost admirable gaze. He thought she was beautiful. 
And Bill agreed. His daughter was beautiful. He knew that. And by fucking god, he wouldn’t see her be taken by some outsider.
Frank poured Tess another glass of wine, both Joel and Bill staring across the table at each other. Their daughter watched the exchanged, her eyes shifting back and forth between the two.
Joel finally spoke up, “I’m the same way.”
Frank teased, “Oh, you’re a paranoid schizophrenic, too?”
Bill immediately rebutted, “I'm not schizophrenic.”
Their daughter let out the smallest of laughs, a soft breath coming from her nose. 
Joel turned to look at her. She was such a pretty thing. Especially in the sun like this. But he quickly turned back to look at Bill, who was already glaring in his direction.
Tess felt the tension, “Well, can I just say, uh, gun aside, which I get, how nice this is to have a civilized meal in such a beautiful place? It’s been so long…”
Frank looked over to Bill quickly, the two sharing a knowing glance before Tess continued.
“I mean, I just… uh… I wanna thank you. Even if we don’t end up working together.”
Frank held up his glass, “We ARE working together.”
The two touched their glasses with a small clink. 
Bill continued to glare at Joel, even while Frank tried to dilute it.
Frank got an idea, setting his napkin on the table, “You know what? Let’s go inside. Tess, I wanna show you something.” He quickly stood, as did Tess. They began to walk to the front door of the home, Frank grabbing the wine bottle to take with him.
Bill sighed, “No, not inside.”
Frank continued.
“Frank… FRANK!” God, that man would be the death of him. 
When he and Tess closed the door behind them, a silence filled the table. Bill immediately cocked the gun on the table, setting it back down, like a warning to Joel. 
Joel simply watched with squinted eyes. 
Bill’s daughter awkwardly stared at the gun, wishing her father wouldn’t do anything rash. The last thing she wanted was for him and Frank to fight. That was her least favorite thing in the world. 
Finally, Joel sighs, “I understand…”
Bill retorts, “No, you fucking don’t…,” he looks over to his daughter, “Go inside.”
She sat a little straighter in confusion. “I… what?”
Joel couldn’t help but stare at her. Her voice sounded so sweet. So kind. But Bill wouldn’t let him look for too long. 
“I said go inside. Now.” He tips his head towards the door as if pointing. 
She immediately stood with a quiet, “yes, sir.” She glanced over at Joel one last time, as did he, before she walked to the front door to join her other father indoors.
Joel sighed. He can’t lose his temper. Tess really wants this. “If my, uh,… if mine brought strangers into our situation, I wouldn’t be happy either. But of all the people he could’ve found on the radio, we’re actually decent people just tryin’ to get by.”
Bill gave a scoff, “Oh.. well, aren’t I the lucky one?”
“There’s stuff we have in the QZ that you don’t have here. We can help each other, and get that gun outta my face.” 
Bill was slightly thrown off by the shift in Joel’s tone towards the end. He leaned back, thinking for a moment, before putting the gun in the holster on his hip. He couldn’t help but rub in what he did have, “Well, there are things here that you don’t have.”
Joel knew exactly what he meant. The girl. Of course, he couldn’t help but point out Joel’s staring. Joel’s jaw clenched slightly, “Yeah… Suppose that’s true. So, what, you were a… prepper or somethin’?”
Bill relaxes slightly, “A survivalist.”
A silence set in before Bill breaks it again.
“Maybe you are decent people, maybe not. Doesn’t matter. We’re self-sufficient here. I don’t need you or your friend complicating out lives. Is that clear?”
Joel looked over in thought, considering the older man’s words before a small laugh raked through his body. “That fence has got a year on it, tops.”
Bill peered over at his fence, gawking slightly.
“Galvanized wire already started to corrode. I can get you 10 spools of high-tensile aluminum. Last you the rest of your life…,” Joel’s head tilted to the house, “…lives.”
Bill looked back at him, slightly impressed. 
The group all walked to the front gate together. Tess and Frank led, whispering to each other happily while the other two men hung back slightly in silence. The daughter walked between the two groups, looking at the trees, watching the birds fly. In her opinion, it beat trying to talk to Bill at the moment. 
Frank and Tess squatted next to the fence, packing more into her pack as they giggled about something. The daughter watched, happy for her father. She stood, rubbing her arms to keep warm despite the sunshine.
Joel took this opportunity to try one last time to make sense with Bill.
Bill stood a little further back, his gaze watching his girl and Frank carefully, his eyes never leaving the two of them. He wouldn’t let a thing happen.
Joel stood next to him, watching the girl as well, “FEDRA’s never gonna come up here. And you’re well protected against stray infected. But sooner or later… they’ll be raiders. And they’ll beat that fence and your tripwires…”
Bill turned to face Joel now, listening intensely.
“…they’ll come at night… quiet and armed.”
Bill stared at the man, “We’ll be fine.”
Joel turned his head to look at Bill, before looking back at the girl, and back to him. He then walked forward, pulling his backpack on.
He walked past the girl, the light breeze of his movements brushing her arm. Her head perked up, watching him walked away. She turned around to look at her father. 
At first glance, he seemed angry. But, she knew that look. Bill wasn’t angry. He was actually considering whatever Joel had told him.
She knew that meant Tess and Joel would visit again.
And she couldn’t wait for that day.
After dinner that night, she sat Frank down and told him everything. And he giggled with her, telling her he would ask Bill about the interaction later. 
God, she couldn’t wait to see Joel again.
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538 notes · View notes
b3gger · 11 months
Text
König’s Eyes
eye contact with shy König (2500+ words)
“I can’t focus when you’re looking at me like that.”
How cute. For a man as big as König, you didn’t expect him to be so… shy? But he wasn’t shy. You’ve seen him engage with others, but then again they were always the same two or so people. Even now as we you watch him sitting, his frame seemingly taking up the entirety of the couch, he seemed to be relaxed and chill, exchanging a few words here and there with his friends.
Maybe you’d know if he was shy if you could see his face. After all, facial expressions showcase a lot regarding a person’s behavior. But it was always hidden under that stupid headgear of his.
But honestly? Who cares? Not when the fabric of his pants were clinging on for dear life around his thighs. It seemed to bunch up around his crotch, fabric riding up at every movement König made. You don’t know if you’re going crazy but you could’ve sworn that the pure tightness of the pants showed every movement of his muscle, contracting and flexing at every turn.
If you touched his thighs, do you think you could feel it? The sheer strength and power that lays right underneath those pants weren’t too far. The pants were the only barrier, a thin one at that, separating you from gripping his thighs as tightly as the pants were at this moment. If they were off, you would have access to his bare skin. His bare and contracting, powerful thighs….. stop.
You close your eyes, taking a deep breath in. Counting to 3, you slowly exhale before opening your eyes, staring up at the ceiling deciding whether or not to call it a night and go home. You weren’t too keen on staying out late and just drinking all night knowing there was work to be done tomorrow. But that sounded like it was a problem for future you.
Your mind wonders again on what König is up to. You look away from the ceiling to glance at him and oh? He’s looking at you. But just as you catch him, he looks away quickly. Was he pretending that he wasn’t looking? Cute.
You finished your drink before signaling to your bartender you were leaving the bar. They gave you a nod before picking up your empty glass to put away. You look towards where König is sitting. Your stare must’ve been heavy because he soon glanced at you. You saw his eyes slightly widen before once again he started to look elsewhere. That wouldn’t do.
You got up and started walking towards him. König tilted his head in curiosity at your approaching figure, eyes darting back and forth from his friends to you. He felt his vision shake as you leaned down close to his face.
“Can I sit here?” you asked. He nodded and so you slid in beside him. You moved around a bit to get comfortable and glanced at him, almost laughing when you realized how stiff and still he was. You poked him a little but it sent him flying up, huge eyes turning to you fast in question.
“Just making sure you weren’t dead by how frozen you were,” you grinned at him. He huffed before relaxing his body, leaning back on the couch with you,” You could’ve called my name.”
You let out a laugh,” Where’s the fun in that?” König glances at you and rolls his eyes. You settle further into the couch, the soft cushions doing wonders to your back. You feel tears gathering in your eyes, blurring your vision as a yawn creeps upon you. You blink them away before settling your gaze on König’s side profile, wondering what expression he was making under the mask.
Was he as tired as me? Hmm. You felt your gaze lowering as they once again settled on his thighs with those tight, tight pants on. You weren’t that far away, just a hand away and you could feel it pulsing under your fingers. “You’re staring,” König muttered.
“Huh?” You look up, kind of embarrassed at being caught at this close proximity. However, the embarrassment quickly went away as soon as you caught a hint of red under that gear of his. It seemed to blossom suddenly, making it seem like his face was flushed and rosy. Even the gear couldn’t hide the fact that he was nervous from your stares. It could conceal it, sure, but the tiny evidence was seen on the eye sockets of the gear as well as his nervous, stumbling demeanor.
His eyes also revealed his nervousness. They seemed to be doing flips, darting from you to elsewhere, not able to keep eye contact or look at you in general, “I-I said you’re staring.”
You can feel a smile creeping onto your face at the small stutter,” Sorry, what was that?”
König huffs a little and stays quiet much to your disappointment. You wish and want him to say more but you don’t want to push him. He has trouble enough interacting with others, you don’t want to add to the number. You were content with the small exchanges knowing that this conversation, although dry and short, was good. Unsatisfying, yes, but still good progress. Maybe with more interactions like this, you could decrease his shyness around you so you could talk with him more freely.
You stand up, stretching to release the tension in your body to prepare for the trip back to your place. You check your pockets to make sure you have your wallet and everything else on you before digging your keys out. You then turn to König, giving him a smile,” I think I’m gonna head back now. I’ll see you next time, yeah?”
König looks at you, blinking rapidly as if he was trying to process your words. You tilt your head, questioning him with your eyes to see if he would say anything. It didn’t have to be grand, but you did hope he’d say bye verbally, just to hear his voice.
Eventually, he stopped blinking and looked up at you, but at the same time not at you? It seemed like he was just staring at your forehead or something beyond you. He then nodded. You squint your eyes knowing this was his response to your goodbye. You feel your nerves hitting you but gather yourself quickly, knowing König just had a hard time talking and you shouldn’t get upset. You gave him a small smile again,” Alright, good night, Konig.”
You turn to leave and start walking towards the exit of the bar, saying your goodbyes to your other friends on the way out. As you reach the outside of the bar, you pause to look up at the night sky, stars decorating every inch of the world above you. It reminds you of König’s eyes, how they seemed to sparkle and twinkle when he found something he liked. How his eyes seemed to carry his thoughts and feelings, but were always closed off to you due to the lack of eye contact from him.
Your mind then wonders to your small interactions with König. You know you said tonight was good progress, but it was still frustrating. You let out a sigh of disappointment but looking at sky would do for now. You considered it to be König’s second pair of eyes and would gaze at the night sky, imagining it was him looking back at you, showing you his inner self and leaving himself to be dissected by you so you could understand his thoughts and feelings.
“Hey.”
You turn quickly in surprise at the sudden voice calling out for you, stumbling a bit in the progress. You let a breath out in relief when you realized it was just König staring down at you in worry. He managed to mumbled out an apology while you gathered yourself from your previous shock and stumble, wondering what the man was up to. It wasn’t like him to suddenly come after you.
“Is everything alright, König?”
His eyes darted around, seemingly going up and down and sideways and just about anywhere that wasn’t you. You squint your eyes at his strange behavior as you analyze him, noticing how he seemed to be slouching and crouched as if trying to make himself seem smaller. He was fumbling with his fingers, not to the point where it was noticeable but the small taps and sliding gave it away. You stared at the man in front of you, worry starting to creep in at his bizarre behavior. This wasn’t the usual nervousness he displayed and you were starting to feel anxious yourself, “König, seriously, is everything alright? You’re starting to freak me out.”
“I can’t focus when you’re staring at me like that.”
You take a small, sharp breath in, body freezing in shock as you try to process his words,” What?”
König looks down at his feet, his hands tightly wrapped around each other,” I try my best, but I can’t. You just… do something to me. I-I try to talk but your gaze just makes me clam up and then I can’t focus or talk and-“
“Okay, okay, big guy. I get it,” you laugh at his rambling, knowing he’d continue on and on if you didn’t interrupt. And as tempting as it was to let him continue, the man in front of you looked like he was about to die of nervousness. Coming up to you and saying all this must have taken great courage and you were proud of König for taking that step.
“König, I understand it takes you time to feel comfortable and speak with people. So please don’t worry too much. I value our small conversations,” you reassure him, reaching out toward his hands to take them apart to instead hold each of his hands in yours. You hold it between the both of you before squeezing it, waiting patiently for him to look at you.
And while it took a minute, he looked down at his hands that were held together with yours and then looked at you shyly, “ I just feel like I chased you away. I wanted you to stay, but in the end, even saying goodbye was too hard. I’m sorry.”
You grin at him, looking at his twinkling eyes that conveyed his regret,” As long as you continue to look at me, I’ll forgive you anytime for anything.” You see the familiar red settle around his eyes through the sockets of the headgear, knowing König was blossoming once again. He quickly looked away from your gaze but kept his hands conjoined with yours. Your grin widens into a big, fat smile at this tiny victory.
You bring his hands towards your lips, softly kissing at his knuckles,” Looking away so soon?” You loved the way his knuckles felt on your lips, hoping the shape, texture, and feeling of the small kiss would be ingrained in your brain. But what you wished and hoped most of all was that your brain would remember the way König turned to look at you, eyes wide in shock at the sudden kiss on his hands, a small noise escaping his mouth as he jolted in surprise,” W-what?!”
You lowered his hands down from your mouth, but did not let go. Instead, you clasped your hands around his and pulled causing him to stumble towards you. The small stumble caused the two of you to stop holding hands as he fell into your embrace. Your hands held onto his waist in order to stabilize him while his hands were on top of your shoulders, holding onto you for support. The position was laughable as the roles should’ve been switched due to König’s size. But you didn’t want to switch the roles, this felt right. It worked for you because having him lean onto you for support was doing something to you.
It made you want to take care of him. It made you want him to see you as a safe and open person that he could go to and depend on. You didn’t realize you were subconsciously gripping onto his waist more and more until he tapped your shoulders. You looked up at him loosening your grip but not letting go, giving him a small, bright smile,” Clumsy, aren’t you, König?”
He huffs as he rolls his eyes and then looked down at you trying to make eye contact. He seemed like he was smiling back by the way his eyes seemed to crinkle and become shaped like crescents. You bring him closer to you by pulling on his waist,” If I knew it only took a small stumble to have you on me, I’d have done it sooner.”
He gives a small laugh at that,” I’m surprised you held back this long. I know you stare.”
You tilt your head in curiosity, wondering what he was hinting at. He must’ve seen your confused look because he cleared his throat and looked away from your questioning gaze,” You know… the stares. In there. At my.. you know.”
You blink trying to process at what he was trying to convey. His slow, delayed speech was making your brain short circuit. Hmm, lets see. In the bar staring at his what? Oh! Oh. You let out a loud laugh and he crouches down and rests his head on your shoulder as if trying to hide his embarrassment. You lean the side of your head onto his head and continue laughing,” Should I stop staring? Maybe it’ll help you focus.”
You felt him shake his head no as he began to switch from holding your shoulders with his hands to wrapping both of his arms around you, his head still buried on you neck as he hid in embarrassment. He muffled something and you lifted your head a little from his and turned to try to look at him, your hands softly squeezing his waist in question,” I can’t hear you, König.”
He rose up from his hiding place and looked down at you, arms still around you,” I said continue staring….looking at me. Please, have your eyes on me at all times.”
As you gaze into his eyes, you see it twinkle and sparkle. You could have sworn they were brighter than the night sky at that moment. No, you don’t swear, you know. His eyes are the brightest.
His eyes seemed to be like a door made for you to unlock, so that you may gaze inside his brain to see it filled with feelings and thoughts of you. But you felt the same way. It felt as though nothing but König filled your head. It was overflowing and you could not think or imagine anything else. Your plans of going home were destroyed and you honestly didn’t know what to do anymore. All you wanted to do was stay here with König in your embrace, your hands on his waist, his arms wrapped around you, his eyes gazing down into your eyes for what seemed like the longest time ever. This was where you wanted to be forever.
3K notes · View notes
abbyscherry · 5 months
Text
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤcamgirl!ellie headcanons ! 𝟏𝟖+
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a/n: hihi! this is something that me and @coeurify have been working on for like the past week or more. this is just a small first installment to our camgirl!ellie. we’ve spent a while sending ideas back and forth, sharing as we go and this is what we came up with. sooo, i hope that you enjoy our little camgirl!ellie headcanons. ilysm, thank you for creating this lil universe with me ♡
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꒰ ♡ ꒱ camgirl!ellie who you’ve been dating for almost a year and you were always under the impression she worked at a local music store or simply at a comic book store when that was far from the truth. And she genuinely can’t help but get shy and nervous when you finally figure out what she actually does, on a day when you accidentally walk into her bedroom after a quick shift at work to find her sprawled out on your shared bed, hair messy, perky nipples hard, hips stuttering with each movement and her fingers buried in her cunt. The sounds of her pussy and soft yet gentle whimpers filled the silence of the bedroom while she looked at you with wide, doe eyes.
“well aren’t you just a sight, baby? If me coming home from work every day means i get to see you being a needy little slut, i’m definitely not complaining”
꒰ ♡ ꒱ camgirl!ellie who one night decides to sit down with you after you shockingly walked in on her during one of her live streams on one evening after a long day of work, and dinner that she felt that it was the right time to explain to you what she really did as her job. The whole time she was watching you nervously as she explained, her fingers twitching and cheeks flushed the longer you just nodded along to her words, not really replying with anything of your own, but clearly paying attention to what she was saying.
꒰ ♡ ꒱ camgirl!ellie who sometimes, on ‘certain’ nights that she knows you won’t be home from work at your usual time because you pick up extra shifts, will set up her camera in the bedroom, computer left untouched beside her, the donations already flowing the second she goes live but barely noticing what any of them say while she shamelessly scrolls through her phone, most likely looking through the pictures you’ve taken for her and only her, as she works her fingers in and out of her cunt, the soft whimpers and the sound of her pussy quickly filling the bedroom and that breathless chuckle she lets out when she’s found herself on your text messages and can barely stop herself from being a brat and sending you the link to her stream. Knowing damn well you’ll be trying to keep yourself together while at work the second you open it.
꒰ ♡ ꒱ camgirl!ellie who can’t help but clench her thighs tightly around her hand when hearing the certain donation sound going off on her computer that she almost dropped the phone onto her face when she turns just slightly to notice your high amount donation for the night. You were always donating to her, and telling her what to do, and she loved it. Some nights you were ruthless with your demands but other times you were so gentle with them. just loving the she sounds lets out when her fingers would reach that spongey spot inside her that has her eyes rolling back and thighs shaking and the way her face contorts in pleasure would have you losing your mind. Ellie loved all the donations and love she was given from the people who enjoyed what she made and what she did, but she adored and cherished yours the most.
☆ “There you go baby, spread your legs wider, wanna see all of you”
☆ “I bet you wish those were my fingers, don’t you baby? riding my fingers until you can barely think straight huh? Just need to be taken care of and fucked until you only know my name”
☆ “Oh, you’re doing so well, such a good pup”
☆ “Don’t be shy now baby, rub your pretty little clit for me while you fuck yourself, i know you can take it”
☆ “You’re so wet, been thinkin’ about me huh?”
꒰ ♡ ꒱ camgirl!ellie who definitely gets really shy when you do join one of her cam streams. You usually sit on the chair behind the camera, leaning back against the soft cushion while your eyes trail slowly between her shaking thighs, watching how she fucks her fingers in and out of her cunt at your demanded pace. Your own wetness no doubt pooling between your own thighs at the sounds of her needy whines, the slick sounds coming from her pussy, and the pathetic yet adorable pleas coming from her lips for you to touch her, always has you throwing any sense out the window as you always gave into her. “so pretty like this, baby” you coo, chuckling under your breath when her hips buck up into you when your fingers graze her thigh. “need my fingers don’t you, sweet girl? how about you use your words for me, hm? wouldn’t wanna disappoint all your viewers now would you? or disobey me by not using your words”
“n-no mommy” she whimpers, face flushed, tears stained on her cheeks and thighs twitching as your fingers slide down her stomach. “want your fingers— need them, please”
꒰ ♡ ꒱ camgirl!ellie who once she started letting you in on her… peculiar job.. just can't stop. She’s addicted. Addicted to the sight of your eyes behind the camera. Addicted to how you lounge on the couch and lick over your lips, nodding her on to that beautiful spacey feeling that takes over when she’s under your gaze. So addicted that she’s needy for you to be there when she films. She whines and begs for you to be there. Whether behind the little camera she’d saved up for, or planted right on the bed with her, face between her plush thighs— for all her viewers to watch, to see while she gets ruined.
“Where are you?” She’d huff over the phone, chewing on her cracked lip. “ ‘M at work baby, told you it’d be a late day.” Your fingers swirling around the phone cord in your office, smiling at the barely there whine in her voice. 
“But i want to film,” she would complain, squeezing her heated thighs together at the chuckle you responded with. “So film?” 
“Never cum as hard when you aren’t here.” 
꒰ ♡ ꒱ camgirl!ellie who has the idea one day to fuck you on camera. she’s shifting around on the scratchy green couch in your shared apartment, her head in your lap, fingers running through the auburn locks of hair. She’s so fidgety about it, kicking her feet, playing with her fingers, shivering too hard when you scratch at her scalp. just the thought of being on top of you has her stomach all tight, cheeks all flushed.
“why are you moving around so much?” 
“I- uh, nothing.” 
“spit it out, el.” 
“I have an idea.”
꒰ ♡ ꒱ camgirl!ellie who you actually let wear the strap, laying back on the white sheets of the bed, head tilted as you watch her shaking hands tighten the harness over her plaid boxers, a little smile on your lips when she stumbles toward you. “Gonna be good for me, make me feel good?” you coo as she pulls your hips flat against the bed, her heartbeat almost loud enough for you to hear. her fingers playing over your black panties. “mhm mommy, please let me.” she would beg, voice loud enough for the camera to hear. the minute she spoke, the minute her calloused hands spread your thighs, hooked around your panties, the donations start pouring in.
“can i go faster?” in a sweet little beg. 
“p-please, please need—need to make you cum.” 
“fuck— mommy you’re so wet. feel s’good.”
꒰ ♡ ꒱ camgirl!ellie whose viewers are just obsessed with you as she is. The views are always doubled, the chimes of the donations always steadfast when you join the auburn haired girl behind the screen, or when your voice fills the dimmed bedroom. So what’s better than a stream where they get to donate to you? Your fingers running over Ellie’s sticky and swollen folds, humming as you wait for the next donation to come in, to help you decide what to do to the squirming girl under you, begging for anything more than the slow and steady rub you give her throbbing core. Her soft cries do nothing but build up that blazing power that settles over your flesh when you see her like this. So desperate for you. 
“please put ‘em in, pl-please pleaseplease.” 
“its not me you’ve gotta beg baby, your viewers like teasing just as much as me.”
“what should i do next?” ding “ahh, see that baby? they’re finally letting me put a finger in that sweet pussy of yours.” 
꒰ ♡ ꒱ camgirl!ellie who wants nothing more than to just crawl under the covers and sleep after the camera flicks off. But you always press kisses to her cheek, murmuring soft praises against her sweaty skin as you clean off her thighs and pinch her cheeks open so she will drink the water you press against her lips. “You’re my perfect girl,” you tell her as you press new boxers up and over her shaky legs. “Did so good for me today, get some rest.” But she always pulls you right in with her, tattooed arm flexing as she tugs you against the comforter and presses her red cheek against your skin, seeking the comfort of you.
tags; @fleshunger @baumbii
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Steddie Upside-down AU Part 16
Part 1 Part 15
Steve doesn’t know Eddie well enough to be able to tell if the way he’s bouncing is excitement or nerves. Either way, he’d all but bolted up to sprint to the phone hanging from the wall in the kitchen. It’s an ugly beige and has one of those chords that you can twirl around and around your fingers as you talk.
Steve and Will stand a few paces back, watching as Eddie picks up the phone, and presses it so hard into his ear that he’ll be able to hear the ocean out of it.
Eddie’s bouncing on his toes, but as the seconds tick by, he slows, then stops, heels planted to the ground. He hangs up the phone, hangs his head, planting his palms on the countertop like he needs its support to stay upright.
“He must be at work,” Eddie says.
Steve inches forward, laying his hand on Eddie’s shoulder and squeezing. The other boy takes a shuddering breath, before turning around, shrugging out of Steve’s hold.
“Do you want to try your parents?” he asks, looking Steve’s way.
He swallows the lump in his throat, forcing the words out. “Nah, they’re out of town.” He waves his hand breezily, like he couldn’t care less about his empty house. His absent parents. “Maybe we should try Will’s Mom again?”
Eddie’s eyes look sad and soulful, wet like Bambi’s. But he doesn’t say anything, just turns toward Will who’s still dawdling by the refrigerator. “We should try your Mom again,” he says. “But didn’t you say the Demogorgon came?”
Will wilts, the smile blooming on his face dropping before it’s even fully formed. “I think the phone got fried anyway.”
Steve’s not jealous of a pre-teen. Especially one trapped in a hell dimension being hunted by monsters. That’d be too fucked up to comprehend. “Dude, she loves you,” Steve says. “She definitely bought a new phone within like, thirty seconds.”
Will Byers beams, clearly a Momma’s boy through and through. Steve Harrington is not jealous, really. He’s not.
“How long ago did you talk to your Mom?” Eddie asks.
Will scuffs his already scuffed shoes against the carpet. “This morning, I think,” Will says. “But then the Demogorgon came, and I was running away when you found me.”
He says “found me” like Steve and Eddie are the best thing to ever happen to him. It runs through Steve like an electroshock, sends his skin buzzing in a way he can’t tell whether it’s invigorating or frying him from the inside out.
“Okay, so we should wait a little bit,” Eddie says, walking back and forth in front of them like a general to his soldiers. “Chill on our laurels, get some sleep, and come at this thing fresh eyed and bushy tailed tomorrow when the risk of Demogorgon sighting has gone down.”
Will bounces on his toes, once, twice, three times before seeming to catch himself. Oh, god. There are two of them. Steve may not survive long enough to meet Byers’ Mom, and it won’t be from a Demogorgon attack. It’ll be from two over-enthusiastic nerds.
Steve sighs. “What’re we going to do until then?” Steve asks. “It can’t be bedtime yet, just look at the sun.”
The twin looks of condescension he gets for that one are identical enough that he has to dig his teeth into the laugh that wants to burst out.
But then they look at each other, and it doesn’t seem all that funny anymore. Because Eddie’s smiling like the grinch right before he robbed all the who’s down in Whoville, and Will’s puppy-dog eyes could be charged as a lethal weapon.
“We could play D&D?” Will asks.
Steve groans slapping his hands over his face and rubbing them down harshly, even though the game is sort of fun. Even though it might be more fun with three people. Even though he was sold the moment that Will Byers looked at him with those eyes.
“Fine!” he says, throwing up his hands. “Let’s play your stupid nerd game.”
They gather around the coffee table, Eddie and Will leaning against the couch, Steve an island all on his own on the other side.
“Will, do you DM or should I?” Eddie asks, like the title is something grand to be bestowed upon someone. Like Will just got named Prom King and he’s asking if he wants the crown on his head.
“Maybe you can this time?” he asks, looking up at Eddie through his fringe.
Eddie nods. Steve settles his elbow on the table, sinking his cheek into his palm as the implications of “this time” run through his head.
“What’s your race?” Will asks, eyes glued to Steve.
Steve lifts his brow, shifting his gaze to where Eddie’s cringing away from Will. “We’ve, uh, sort of been playing with training wheels on?” he says, like it’s a question.
“Class?” Will asks, looking horrified. “Stats?” Eddie grimaces. Will sighs, turning back to Steve. “Do you have a character?”
“Sir Steven.”
“He’s definitely a human fighter,” Eddie mumbles, fidgeting with his rings like he’d committed some horrible sin.
“Okay, well, you’re supposed to roll the dice when you create a character so that you know how your character will react to things. Does that make sense?”
Steve nods even though it doesn’t, ignoring the way Eddie scoffs. Will fishes a little bag out of the pocket of his vest, dumping a pile of black dice. Steve recognizes the one with the twenty sides, but there’s a square one, a triangle one, and one shaped like a diamond he’s never seen before. He kind of wants to put them in his mouth, maybe swallow them.
Steve rolls a die for each stat, nodding along like it all makes sense. Eddie runs into his room for paper and a pencil, dutifully writing each number down.
When he passes the paper to Steve, he doesn’t know whether he should be insulted by the number for intelligence or flattered that Munson apparently thinks he’s charismatic. He keeps his mouth shut, not wanting to drop his score any lower.
Steve nods along while they discuss modifiers and alignments, but something of his confusion must show because Will and Eddie dial it back.
Will’s character is some sort of wizard who can cast spells and shit. He talks about his figurine, which Steve deduces is a little action figure like he saw in Munson’s room specific for his character, and the costume his Mom made for him to play, expression faraway.
They play. It’s more complicated this time, and when it becomes clear that Steve is struggling, Will scoots to the other side of the table to help point out which of the dice he should roll and what math he should be doing.
It’s fun, and they kick Xanthar’s ass, even if Steve’s pretty sure Eddie takes it easy on them. He tells himself it’s for Will’s sake, but the glimmer of humor in Eddie’s eyes makes it hard to hold onto that sentiment.
Will’s jaw-cracking yawn as they go over the story (campaign?) signals the end of the night. The poor kid’s eyes are drooping.
“Alright, bedtime for all the kiddies!” Eddie says, jumping up far too energetically for the end of the day they’ve had. “That means you, Harrington.”
The bed’s not big enough for all three of them, and Eddie’s bedroom doesn’t have enough floor space, so they huddle together in the living room. Will takes the couch after a thorough browbeating, huddled under two blankets and what must be Uncle Wayne’s pillow.
Steve and Eddie move the coffee table so they can sleep beside the couch, keeping their bodies between Will and the door. They make a nest of Eddie’s bedding and pillows.
Will’s breathing evens out quickly, poor kid. Steve stares at the ceiling. The silence drills into him until he can almost feel it, making him tense and tense until Eddie scoots close enough that their arms are touching.
The single point of contact seeps warmth into Steve’s bones. He closes his eyes, reveling in it.
“Should we really be wandering around with a child when there’s a monster running around?” Eddie asks, his breath whispering against the shell of Steve’s ear.
With his eyes closed, it’s easy to picture that thing, the Demogorgon. The way it’s claws curved, the way its face opens, and then opens again. The sound it makes. So, no. Steve doesn’t want that thing anywhere near the kid, but—
But.
“We’ve got to get him home, Munson.”
Eddie sighs, breath tickling the flyaways along Steve’s hairline. “Yeah,” he replies. “I guess we do.”
Steve falls asleep before Eddie moves back away, that single point of warmth following him into his dreams.
Part 17
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dulcesiabits · 8 months
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your shadow under the illusory moon.
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summary: Magicians are great liars. And you know firsthand that Lyney is the greatest liar of them all.
notes: 3.4k words, fic, childhood friends au, light angst, vague spoilers for Lyney's backstory, author's notes
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You’ve never believed in miracles.
Miracles belong to the privileged and the lucky, those who could afford belief and trust and walked around with eyes closed to the world. No, the only thing you believed in were your own eyes and your own hands. In this world, what you see is what you get, no more and no less: the physical and tangible rules that govern your lives, the observations and calculable reactions to each action you take. Science is all about proof, and miracles are all about blind faith, running antithesis to each other like oil and water.
Which is why you can’t justify to yourself what, exactly, you’re doing at a magic show again, lurking in the back crowds of the Opera Epiclese. In the crush of bodies, a swelling sea of excited shouts and exclamations, you drift, letting the movement carry you back and forth. The stage is barely visible at this angle, but you couldn’t afford better tickets. Still, you catch glimpses of the magician on stage through gaps in people’s bodies. 
“Ladies and gentlemen!” he exclaims. “For the finale, my assistant will now step into this box–” He sweeps his cape to the side, revealing an ordinary wooden contraption with metal hinges, barely large enough for one person to stand in– “just an ordinary box, as you can see–” His assistant swings open the door, turning it around for people to see its hollow innards, its plain sides– “and she will step into the box! Only to be impaled by these swords!” Another flourish, and a gleaming silver rapier flashes in his hands. The crowd gasps. 
“These are real swords, I assure you,” the magician continues, casually sparring with an invisible opponent, light catching on its blade. “Would anyone like to come up and test its veracity for the crowd?”
A wave of hands shot up. You shrink back into your cloak, but it’s doubtless he can see you, if you can barely make out his figure from this far. His violet eyes gleam like a lighthouse in the dark, ensnaring you, and it almost feels like he’s looking directly at you. Just your imagination, of course.
“Let’s see, let’s see… What about you, my lovely lady?” the magician asks, pointing somewhere in the second row. A woman stands, hands fluttering, and rushes to the stage. She takes the sword from the magician, knocking a knuckle against its blade, and swinging it clumsily once, twice. 
“It’s real!” she announces to the crowd. “I almost cut my finger with it just now.”
“We can’t have that, can we?” the magician says with a wink, taking one of the woman’s hands gently. “Why don’t you sit back down? I’d hate to see you get hurt.”
Your eye twitches as his honeyed tones, but the crowd swoons and titters. 
“Ladies and gentlemen, you now know these swords are very real! So it’s time for my assistant to shine. Lynette, if you would please step in?” With one nod and a twirl, the assistant is tucked snugly in the box, and the magician swings it shut. Only her head sticks out, from a hole on the top. The magician slowly pierces the rapier in his hand into the right side of the box, sliding it smoothly through. The crowd groans as the tip of the sword angles out of the left side.
“How are you doing, Lynette?” the magician asks. “Are you hurt?”
“It’s a bit cramped,” she comments.
“Oh dear! I better hurry it up with my tricks, so you don’t feel too uncomfortable.” 
One by one, more swords slide into the box, the magician making worried remarks as his assistant responds in dry quips. The crowd laughs, and you fold your arms. The outcome of the show is already set: after playing up the drama and raising the tension, the magician will open the door and his sister will spring out, unharmed, and everyone will laugh and applaud, unable to believe their eyes.
The trick is a remarkably simple one, though doubtless it looks like magic for those who don’t know how it works. There are predetermined positions in the wooden box for the swords to be placed, and slits cut in the wood for the swords to be slid through, which avoid the assistant’s body. It only took you some educated guesswork and several observations of the show to figure out the principles behind it. Because, despite it being a waste of your hard-earned mora, you find yourself watching the same magic show, with the same magicians. Surely the amount of tickets you’ve bought made up a nice portion of the magicians’ salary.
Applause thunders through the theater as the magician and his assistant bow. The show has ended before you noticed, and the sound rings in your ears as you slip out the door to avoid the post show crowds.
After observing their shows for so long, there’s something else you’ve come to understand: magicians are liars, first and foremost, who make the audience believe in miracles, even if just for a moment. On the stage, trust is the most important currency for any good performer.
You quietly fish out the small bouquet of flowers in your tattered bag, velvet petals crushed from their stay. Red anemone, yellow carnations, and purple stemmed lavender, all wrapped in a simple white ribbon. 
“But you’ve always been a good liar, isn’t that right, Lyney?” you murmur. You twist the flowers in your hand, but they don’t respond.
Your story wasn’t anything special: like a hundred other children on the streets, you grew up with no family and nothing but your own wits to survive. The same old tale, with slight variations, could be told by any young pickpocket.
But you were wily and clever and good with your hands, and that gave you a leg up in the world. You scavenged broken machines and gutted them, studying their delicate anatomy until you learned how they ticked. Piece them back together, scrap them for parts, or slap together a brand new machine from several different corpses: you did whatever it took to put a few extra mora in your pocket and bread in your stomach.
Being who you were meant you were usually alone. You were friendly enough with other kids, but they could be friends one day just as easily as they could be your competition the next. The line was often blurred enough that it was safer for you to avoid interacting with others entirely.
The only exceptions were two children your age, a pair of twins. You shared your food with them, on the days you could afford to be generous. In the winter, the three of you could tuck together under one of the vents that blew hot steam from the city’s belly, curled together like cats to keep warm. In the summer, the three of you could splash around in knee-high water at the edge of the city to keep cool. But they were family, always together, and you were just the occasional tagalong. You knew your place.
Most days found you scavenging in the junkyard, or stealing from broken down machines in the streets, if you were quick enough about it. In the evenings, you would trudge home with your spoils, a makeshift workshop in the sewers, where the smell and damp kept most people away from you. 
The key word is “most people.”
“You’re back!” Lyney chirps, hoping off one one of the broken crates you used as a table. Lynette trails behind, her tail bristled. How on earth Lyney convinces her to venture down to the sewers so often was beyond your ability to understand.
“Mm,” you hum, throwing down pouches of metal scraps from your bag. “What are you doing here?”
“Just had some time, so I wanted to stop by. Um… did you not want us to come?” Lyney asks shyly.
“Nah, it’s fine.” You crouch down on the floor, dutifully upending each of the pouches to sort through your spoils. You made three piles, generally: “unsellable except as scrap”, “sellable as it is,” and “could be used for other inventions.” Lyney watches you sort, his eyes lingering on your hands, as Lynette fiddles idly with a discarded spring, watching it bounce back and forth.
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Lynette nudge Lyney with her elbow, and he stumbles back a few steps. They seem to argue with their eyes, Lynette rolling hers as Lyney widens his, shaking his head. Eventually, he loses, because he sighs, and steps closer to you as Lynette paws victoriously at the spring. 
“Um! So… what do you know about magic?” Lyney says quietly.
“Magic? Do you mean like vision wielders?”
“No! Magic as in… magic tricks! Like those street performers do sometimes.”
“Sure. I’ve seen them before.” You roll a metal ball into the “sellable” pile.
“I’ve been observing them, and… I’ve figured out a little bit about how they do their tricks. Can… Can I show you?” he says.
“Go ahead.” You drop the scraps in your hand, and tilt your head at Lyney expectantly. 
He takes a deep breath. In, out, and then he claps his hands. “Wel… welcome to Lyney’s first magic show,” he says, voice quavering despite his confident tone, cheeks pink. “Thank you for participating today.”
He fumbles with his pockets, thrusting out  a small, wilted red rose. It was probably thrown out by a florist. “See this rose?” he says.
“I do,” you say. “It’s a nice flower.”
“Thank you, thank you. Now… please keep an eye on this rose.”
You humor him, watching his hand closely. “Three… two… one!” With a sudden sweep of his hand and a twist of his wrist, the rose vanishes from your sight.
“A disappearing act? Nice job,” you compliment, but Lyney shakes his head.
“I’m not done yet. Take a look around,” he says softly. And there, tucked in one of your shirt’s pockets, is the same rose from his hand. 
You cup it with one hand, thumbing a dry petal. “It’s pretty.”
“You can keep it, if you want!” Lyney squeaks, then clears his throat. You swear you hear Lynette’s quiet laughter, but when you glance at her, she innocently looks away.
“Are you learning magic tricks?”
“Yes. I’m just watching magicians perform, and working out how they do ‘em. I’m practicing, but…” He shakes his head. “It’s hard.”
“You’re smart, Lyney. You can figure it out.”
“I was…” He takes a breath. “I was thinking. Lynette and I can make some money with this. And you make some mora, too, right? Maybe we can pool our money together and move away from here. Or find a nice place. I don’t know. Anything’s better than the streets.” 
“You want me to come with you?” you say drolly. 
“Yes! If you want to, I mean. Things would be easier with three people, right?”
“True. And it would be nice to have a real room to sleep in.”
“You could probably study and get into the Akademiya,” Lyney says earnestly. “You’re good with machines.”
You shrug your shoulders. “I couldn’t afford it.” But already, your heart is racing, the future unspooling ahead of you like a shining river. “But… helping each other out doesn’t sound too bad,” you say carefully. “I can try putting aside money.”
“Let’s shake on it!” Lyney says. “Lynette, you too.”
“Why me?” Lynette murmurs, but joins the two of you.
You shake hands with each of the twins, Lyney’s grip firm and energetic, Lynette’s gentle and loose, and the three of you grin at each other. You see them off, and Lyney stops to turn and wave at you every few steps until Lynette pushes him along, and he trips over his feet. You giggle, watching the two of them, before placing a hand over your mouth. 
A future together. A future together, with people you could trust.
It’s not long before the steps of the Opera Epiclese darken with people, and you have but a few minutes to achieve what you came here for. 
Making a beeline for the back of the Opera, stalking down halls, turning shadowy corners, you reach the troupe’s dressing rooms and the backstage area.
There’s no one around, which makes your task easier. You peruse the nameplates on each door before you find Lyney’s dressing room. You throw a cursory glance around: scattered clothes and props stacked haphazardly together, a cape thrown over one of the mirrors. As messy as ever, you think, before gently placing the bouquet on his vanity. 
To the unassuming person, you come off as a dedicated fan. Buying tickets for his shows whenever he’s in town. Stealing in to leave behind flowers at his dresser. 
But the truth is nothing like that; you can’t explain why you take these irrational actions. Maybe you just want to leave some proof to yourself that you once existed in his life. You remember the mistakes he made, the crack of his voice as he performed line after line, the constant practice and repetition of each movement until he could make it seem effortless.
You let out a little sigh, spinning on your heel, just as the dressing room door cracks open and Lyney steps through.
You freeze, sizing each other up, his eyes flitting to your hands, your eyes flying to his face, tracing the curves of the boy you once knew. Then, he breaks into a smile. “Why, hello there. Are you a fan? I didn’t expect to see someone back here.”
Lyney didn’t recognize you. You swallow, tilt your head to the ground, keep your gaze fixed to the open doorway behind him. “Something like that. I didn’t mean to bother you. I’ll just be on my way–”
“Wait, wait!” Lyney strides towards his dresser, picking up the small bouquet you just tossed there. “Did you leave me flowers?”
“No,” you lie. “They were there before I got here.”
“That’s a shame.” Lyney spins the flowers in his hand. “I’ve gotten a lot of flowers before, but there’s one person who always leaves behind bouquets that look like this. I’ve been meaning to thank them. You wouldn’t happen to know who left these behind, would you?”
“I didn’t see anyone around,” you say tersely.  
“No one at all?” he asks quietly. “You’re sure?”
You didn’t look at his face as you spoke firmly. “I’m sure. If you’ll excuse me, I need to go.”
You step swiftly towards the door, brushing by him. 
“Wait!” Lyney’s voice resounds behind you.
You pause at the door frame, but don’t turn around. “Yes?”
“You dropped something,” he says. When you face him, he’s holding your bag, and hands it to you with a flourish. Thank you for coming to my show today. I’d love to see you around again.”
“If I have time,” you say, clutching your bag to your chest.
“Did you enjoy today’s show?” he persists.
“I could understand why people like your magic shows so much.”
“But do you like them?”
You lift one shoulder. “Well, I don’t really believe in magic. But I appreciate the effort and the logistics behind each trick.”
“I’m glad, then.” He smiles. “Have a nice night.”
You nod, running out of the dressing room as fast as you can. You don’t look back.
Lyney paces back and forth in the alley, and Lynette’s ears twitch as she watches him. You sit with your knees drawn together as he worries at his top hat. He’s been ceaselessly pacing for the past five minutes, and nothing seems to snap him out of his reverie. 
“What if it doesn’t work?” he frets.
“Then adapt,” you say.
“And what if the audience doesn’t like my performance?”
“Find a different audience.”
“How are you so calm?” he wails, spinning to face you. 
“Because I know you’re going to do well,” you say stoically. “You’ve practiced forever. Lynette will be there, too.”
“And you?” Lyney says anxiously. 
“I’ll be watching. Should I cause a distraction if it goes poorly?” 
“No, no. It’s fine.” He shakes his hands. “It’ll be fine. It’ll be fine!”
You stand, dusting off your knees. “Lynette, can you go check on the props again?”
“But I just–” You raise your eyebrows, and she narrows her eyes. “Sure. I will.”
Just as Lynette rounds the corner, you grab Lyney’s hand. “Hey. Calm down. You’ll do fine. You just need experience. This is your first step towards becoming a good magician.”
“But–!”
“I’ll give you a good luck charm, okay?” And before Lyney can say anything, you press a kiss on his cheek. “Now you’ll do perfectly.”
“I–” Lyney’s face heats up, and he hangs limply in your grip. His mouth parts, and then closes, and then opens again. He slaps one hand to the cheek you just kissed, looking at you with a dazed expression. Great, you broke him.
“Props are ready,” Lynette announces as she ventures into the alley again. She glances from you, to Lyney, and finally, to your joined hands. “Ah.”
You push Lyney towards Lynette, and he stumbles towards her. “Take care of him,” you say.
She sighs. “Guess I have no choice.”
“Can the two of you not talk about me like that?” Lyney says, pouting, recovering some of his energy.
“Then don’t make us worry,” Lynette says.
“Fine! And–” He twists around to look at you again, though he avoids looking directly into your eyes– “Keep your eyes on me, okay? I’ll do better if I know you’re watching!”
You wave him off. “Got it. I’ll be your loyal audience, promise!”
“And when we finish, let’s talk about our plan some more! Wait for me!”
And you did. You waited for them, as Lyney and Lynette performed their first show and he caught your eye in the crowd and beamed like the sun. You waited for the two of them to show up until you fell asleep, curled up in your tiny corner of the sewer. You waited as the hours turned to days, and days turned to weeks.
When you inquired around the streets, a girl, who had found a job as a servant, shrugged and said, “Heard some noble liked their shtick and took ‘em in. Haven’t seen them since.”
And still, you waited. Because you trusted them. Because you had promised. You waited. Even as the seasons changed. Even as you made your way off the streets. Even as you found a place of your own, too big for just one person. 
 What you see is what you get, and if no one comes for you, then you should remember your place in the world. The proof is in your observations, the facts you could grasp with your hands. 
And there is just you, in an empty room.
In a small apartment off the main street of the city, just a few blocks down from where you roamed as a child, you ruffle through your bag and touch something shiny and smooth.
In the moonlight, you look down upon your prize: a bookmark, dried roses and forget-me-nots preserved and pressed into a strip of glazed wood. You touch the edge of it to your lips, a cold kiss.
You didn’t put this bookmark in your bag. In fact, you’ve never even seen it before in your life until now. 
It’s unfair. It’s unfair, how the present makes your heart leap with a warmth you haven’t felt for years. There’s no note attached, but you can imagine Lyney’s confident facade dropping as he performed one last trick to sneak it into your bag.
What did you want from him? You didn’t know. You didn’t know at all. An explanation, an apology: none of it would be enough.
Lyney is a liar, the greatest liar of them all, and you can’t trust any sweet words that fall from his lips. But you know this, too: a liar needs an audience to lie to. And you would watch him, just like you promised so long ago. After all, you could only believe in what you see with your own eyes. No faith, no miracles. No magic.
Just you, and the boy you once knew.
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princesachicana · 9 months
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𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 pt.2
a/n: it's finally here!! how long has it been?! first things first i want to say thank you to everyone who's been rooting for this fic!! I honestly hit a huge writers block and had no motivation to write!! but all the sweet messages from people saying they enjoyed my work has made me so happy!!! SO ONCE AGAIN THANK U AND I HOPE U ENJOY!! I tried my EXTRA HARDEST SO I HOPE THIS GIVES U THE CLOSURE YALL WANTED I LOVE YOU SM! ALSO THIS IS NOT PROOF READ SO PLEASE EXCUSE ANY MISTAKES!! I JUST WANTED TO FINALLY POST FOR U GUYS!!
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It took a lot out of you not to stay in bed the next morning. The softness of your bed wrapped around your body gives you some sort of comfort. But of course, staying in bed would only make you feel worse. At least if you got up it would be easier to fake happiness. To no surprise, your phone was flooded with missed calls and texts from both Steven and Belly. Of course, you only responded to belly telling her that you'll explain your reasoning for ditching your "date" with Steven later.
Why did Steven even bother leaving you so many texts last night? If you were such a bother to him? Annoying. That's what he thinks you are. And what if you never heard those disgusting things he said about you? and went on the date with him? Would he just continue to lead you on?
Steven: waiting for you by the pool.
Steven: ur late
Steven: u look pretty even though i can't even see you. pls im starving
Steven: is belly holding you hostage?
Steven: it's been 18 minutes cmon.
Steven: the guys are going to laugh at me for being stood up I'm getting nervous.
Steven: did something happen are you okay?
Steven: belly is worried as well lmk.
You laughed at the messages blinking back angry tears that threatened to fall. Gosh! he was so fake. You could only imagine how relieved he must have been to not hang out with you.
Belly: have funnnn
Belly: no funny business!!
Belly: wait where did you go?!
Belly: Steven keeps pacing back and forth waiting for u
Belly: what’s going on?
Belly: just let us know ur okay
Belly: y/n ??!?!??
Y/n: hey, something came up last night sorry I had you worried. can u come over?
Belly arrived 20 minutes later. You spent the time together watching reruns of your favorite Disney show. “Do you want to talk about it?” Belly asked after a while, noticing something was bothering you.
“I overheard the guys talking about me last night.” You fiddled with the throw blanket that was on your lap. “At first it was just them teasing Steven about our date or whatever.” You took a deep breath upset that you felt like crying. “But Steven only agreed to hang out with me…” You paused blinking back tears. Belly moved closer immediately pulling you into a hug. “He only agreed to hang out with me…so I could stop annoying him! I honestly don’t know what I did wrong?” You pulled away from belly’s arms wiping your tears that had fallen.
“Maybe I was too forward? but I just wanted to see if he felt the same way…it was dumb.” You shrugged. Belly shook her head “Nope my brother is a fucking idiot!” she stood up taking your hand in hers and pulling you up. “I won’t let you mope around all day because of him!” You sighed “I don’t even have a choice do I?” Belly laughed shaking her head. “What do you say we go to the boardwalk? Taylor’s coming in today too” she smirked.
“And maybe someone would be happy to see you I don’t know” she whispered with a grin. “What are you talking about?” You questioned. “Well you know Xavier..the one that works the lemonade stand?” You nodded your head yes. “Well, he totally has the hots for you.” You cringed at her word choice. “He does not!” You laughed. “Oh, he does! you were too busy ogling my brother last summer you didn’t notice him ogling you.” she poked your side teasingly.
“Now let’s go!”
~
“Stay still before I poke your eye out” Taylor groans finishing up your eyeliner. You were now at the Fisher’s beach house getting ready to go down to the boardwalk. You laugh pulling away “I think that’s enough…if you make my eyeliner any thicker I’d cry!” Taylor playfully pushes your head away. “Sorryyyyy i want to make Xavier fall to his knees when he sees you!” You frown when she brings that name up. Sure, Xavier was a nice guy…and he was cute…but he wasn’t Steven.
You’d always imagined Steven being your first everything. First kiss, first date, first time. It was something you’d dreamt of all this time.
“Yeah…im going to get a snack before we head out do y’all want anything?” You ask heading towards the door. Both girls gave you a sympathetic smile shaking their heads no.
As you reached the kitchen you stopped in your tracks. Steven turned from looking into the fridge. You made eye contact for about 5 seconds before you beelined for the cabinets. “Hey,” Steven broke the silence as you pulled out a granola bar. You felt the warmth of his stare and turned finding him now leaning against the counter. “Hey…” you whispered looking anywhere but his face. “So you gonna tell me what happened last night?” Steven crossed his arms around his chest.
“Just didn’t feel up for it anymore ..” You shrugged nonchalantly. “That’s it?” Steven scoffed. “Yeah…that’s it” you whispered about to walk away. “What’s going on? I’m like so confused right now.” Steven gently gripped your arm. “Nothing just forget it…it’s not like you wanted to go anyways.” you rolled your eyes. “And what makes you think that?” He muttered eyes scouring your face for the truth. “Um, I don’t know let’s see …you quite literally ignored me this entire week!” You responded sarcastically.
“I didn’t mean to. I had a lot of shit on my mind alright?” Steven uttered softly. It almost felt genuine. The words he spoke just last night almost became liquid. “Yeah like what?” You whispered eventually looking into his eyes. “You can tell me..” You spoke gently stepping into him closer. No matter how much he’s hurt you. Steven would always make you melt. “Nothing let’s just forget about it…he pulled away opening up the fridge once again.”
It was like a switch was flipped. How he went right back to that cold shoulder he had been giving you all week. “You're a fucking asshole” You spewed, already ready to walk out of the kitchen. “Where are you going?” He abruptly spoke again. “The boardwalk…you know? so I won’t annoy you here.” With that, you left a confused and remorseful Steven behind.
~
“Hey, look y/n why don’t you go get a lemonade?” Belly suggested with an eyebrow raise. Shit. you were hoping they forgot about that. “Guys I don’t feel up for this..” You pouted looking between both Taylor and Belly. “Noooo go talk to him! you look hot as fuck.” Taylor gently grabbed your face giving you a mini pep talk.
“What if Xavier wants to hang out..I cant just ditch you guys?!?” You were stalling and they knew it. “We’ll be here waiting for you” Belly smiled. “Just try to have fun alright? But hey if you don’t really want to do it …we’ll back off” She narrowed her eyes at Taylor. “No…I’ll go” You laughed giving both of them a hug “Thank you guys.i really appreciate this.” You’d definitely still be moping around in your room about Steven if it wasn’t for Belly and Taylor. They both wished you luck as you headed straight for the lemonade stand.
As soon as he spotted you. The biggest smile spread across his face. “y/n? damn, it’s been so long” Xavier greeted you with a hug. “It’s only been a year!” You playfully ruffled his curly hair that sat atop his head. “That’s way too long…I enjoy seeing pretty girls year-round.” He spoke smoothly, he definitely knew how to talk to girls. “Shut up” You laughed pushing him away with not that much force.
“I have an hour lunch break…you up for arcade games?”
~
“So…you seeing anyone?” Xavier asked as he ate a scoop of his mint chocolate chip ice cream. You thought about it for a moment. Technically no you weren’t seeing anyone. But you knew you were still hung up on Steven. A day at the boardwalk with Xavier wouldn’t change that. “It’s complicated…I guess” Xavier sighed “I've been there…it’s rough” You nodded you were curious as to what he meant but you didn’t want to be nosey.
“Hey, look they have street fighter..” Xavier smirked. “Want to go a couple of rounds?” You nodded immediately pulling him towards the game. “Mhhm loser buys the winner a funnel cake!” You suggested with a chuckle. “Ouuu im so down y/n” Xavier squeezed your hand that held his quickly striding towards the arcade game.
Just two more steps, Just two more steps and you’d be fine. The rowdy yelling completely threw you off. You stopped in place looking behind you where the voices were coming from. You had no time to move out of the way, no time to prevent this from happening.No time to stop the trio of boys that you knew all too well. Suddenly a body collided with Xavier, the force immediately making your intertwined hands lose. “Dude, what the fuck?” Xavier groaned. It was then that you snapped back into reality. Eyes wide when you noticed Xavier’s ice cream now all over his shirt.
“What’s up? how are we doing?” That voice full of humor made you scoff. Steven stood tall a smile on his face. You hated that it kind of made your heart flutter. “Steven, what is your problem?” You gestured towards Xavier’s now ice cream stained shirt. “He’ll be fine y/n it’ll wash out.” Steven laughed, but once he noticed you didn’t find this funny at all he frowned. “I’m sorry man, I just came over to say what’s up..” You ignored Steven’s apology not believing he meant it. “Hey want me to help you get cleaned up?” You asked Xavier voice full of concern.
“No.I got it…I’ll see y’all later.” Xavier spoke nonchalantly as he walked away. When he was out of eyesight you brushed past steven heading out the door.
“Y/n” Steven immediately followed behind you. His long legs make it easier for him to catch up with you. “You embarrassed me” You stopped outside the arcade, letting him pull you to the side. “Embarrassed? sorry to interrupt your little date” Steven scoffed. “It's not a date we were just hanging out, why do you care?” You groaned running your hands down your face. “Maybe because just yesterday you were supposed to hang out with me?” Steven spoke definitively.
“Oh my god, just earlier you agreed to forget about it,” you said with an eye roll. “It was dumb, stop acting like you care just go home Steven I did you a favor.” He shook his head “What are you talking about right now?” Steven pulled you in closer, one of his hands placed on your waist. The other coming to the side of your face, willing you to look at him.
“I heard you.i heard everything,” you spoke up voice hoarse. Steven’s heart carried pain at the tears that stood brimming in your eyes. The realization was clear when he made the connection. “And you know..who cares what Jeremiah and Conrad think! what hurt the most was you.” You shrieked. You hated that you were crying in front of him. You hated that when he hauled you against his chest you felt secure.
“I'm sorry baby... I'm sorry” Steven sounded voice vulnerable. Leaving kisses atop your head. “Why would you say that?” you sobbed breaking down in front of the boy who caused it. “I didn't mean any of it” Steven brought your face between his hands once again. “But you said it..it still fucking hurts Steven.”
You wiped your face getting prepared to pull away and walk back home.
“Wait, please let me talk to you.” Steven begged. “okay” you replied being prepared to cry all over again. “My head has been all fucked up..and that isn't an excuse I know” Steven looked down as if he couldn't construct the next words. “Please don't shut me out.” you pleaded gently. “I want you...i have all this time.” Steve confessed for the first time.
“—And I didn't want to fuck anything up we've..been so close all our lives if I ever messed that up I would never forgive myself.” It's as if you were dreaming, the boy you loved stood in front of you disclosing his feelings for you. “And what? this whole week of you acting cold towards me, were you trying to avoid your feelings?” Steven bobbed his head “Yes, if I lied to myself it would make lying to everyone else easier because the fucking truth is I want you so bad” You didn't tell him but at that moment you forgave him.
“And you called me the annoying one?” You giggled pushing on his chest gently. “Right now we could have been making out on the beach….but noo you had to be a brooding boy” Steven tickled your side, causing you to squirm in his arms. “Yeah, my fault can I kiss you now? been practically wanting to my whole life.” Steven threw his head back fake pouting setting one hand over his chest. You figured you'd throw his words right back at him. “You're so desperately desperate”
Steven smirked “Yeah for you? I am” Those words welcomed a whole lot of beautiful feelings. At that moment is when Steven bent down bringing his lips down onto your own. As your lips moved together, butterflies erupted in your belly. You smiled against his lips when you both needed a breath. “Hey, by the way, your not off the hook.. I'm still sort of pissed at you.” You declared pointing a finger into his chest.
“Yeah, I figured” He laughed wrapping his arms even tighter around you. “How about I make it up to you this whole week? I'm taking you out on dates…ill even get on my knees if I have to. I'm going to follow you around like a puppy.” Steven rambled on. You laughed out loud covering your mouth with your hands. “Oh, it's funny?” Steven raised an eyebrow suggestively. “Yeah, you're such a loser.” You joked.
Before Steven could respond you tugged him into another kiss. Perhaps everything wasn't one hundred percent fixed. But you and Steven were finally here together. You and Steven were finally in each other's arms that's all that mattered. You’d figure out the rest together.
tags 🤍: @gillybear17 @snowsharkk @tesssastle @conradsupporterr @alyssa-cabrera @eranthisphiny @xoxoloverb @lostaurorax @lanisdreams @alexzluvz @lalaland-notfound @liltimmyst @unsaidjaelineose @buckys2thicc @lilygreennn @t8lzw @medusaslilsister @1-800-stilinski @yazmi710 @j-brielmalfoy @ashcannotwrite @colbysbrocks @exonct07 @multilover19 @mimisparkle12
@littlefreaksatellite @vintagebitc @lexi-2004 @melllinaa @xcallmetaniax @brizzlessizzler @haroldpotterson @livinginaglasspalace @delicatekidpeanut @queenanababy
@drinkawinchester @sarahbutnot @salvatoremikaelson54 @furiouscopsherduniversity @marrigold-2002 @angeliquelunasstuff @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @daphnen21 @ietss @imanaforever @itsreynasworld @she-is-a-happy-girl @joeybandthings
@kateisintrouble @stvrdustalexx @fictionisjustbetter @whezzy223
@conradssupporterr @clubmeredith13 @fatduck45 @trampstampz @fangirl-kimora
@just-let-me-fangirl-in-peace @reenfluffmarshmallow @kaz-mf-brekker
@yazmunson @bookg1rl @hockey-lover86
@just-a-pink-lady @moo-b1tch
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hearts4hazbin · 9 days
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Ok ok ok I've had an Adam prompt in my head for WEEKS but I'm thinking like Adam (who would obviously be in some kind of band in Heaven, I mean cmon) hooking up with a fan, like in a greenroom type setting or like a fuckin public bathroom (if they're desperate)
Love your stuff 🙏 looking forward to whatever Adam fics you end up writing!
♡ just one night? | adam x reader.
A/N : first non-vox smut fic, wow. this request is great 'nonnie, i now need band Adam to fuck me 🤤 I have such a thing for cocky men it hurts.. !MINORS DNI!
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Being the first man, everyone loved Adam. Including you. He was so cool, so handsome, so amazing. It didn't help that he was in a band. He would play gigs in hell all the time, scratchy vocals echoing through the viewers eardrums, fingers skillfully playing his guitar. Oh how you longed to know what else those fingers could do.
"You alright babe?" Adam leaned against the back of the stage his performance was just in. He startled you, and you did end up jumping back in surprise, "Surprised you're talking to the man himself?"
"I guess," You replied anxiously. Your crush, who you thought would never utter a word to you, is now standing at your side.
"You wanna talk somewhere else?"
☆☆˚.꒦﹋ٜ۪ꥇ໋۬ ꒷꒦﹋ٜ۪ꥇ໋۬ ꒷꒦﹋ٜ۪ꥇ໋۬꒷꒦﹋ٜ۪ꥇ໋۬ ꒷꒦﹋ٜ۪ꥇ໋۬ ꒷꒦﹋ٜ۪ꥇ໋۬ ꒷꒦﹋ٜ۪ꥇ໋۬ ☆☆
"Ah, A-Adamm, p-please~!" You moaned as three of his big fingers explored your insides. Your legs were spread wide enough for Adam to watch the sight in front of him.
"Please what?" He grinned. You were in the greenroom where he rested between shows and you guys sure indeed talked.
"You- You know well what I me~ean,"  You weren't going to admit you wanted him to fuck you so easily, not when his fingers were already doing it so well. But you wanted more.
Adam wasn't going to give in so easily. "Hmm? I'm not sure what you're talking about. Use your words." He curled his fingers, making you moan his name again.
"Ugh, please," You sighed, "Please fuck me."
"Am I not doing that already with my fingers? What do you want?" You knew Adam was a bitch, but you weren't expecting him to be this mean.
"Your cock. Want your cock inside of me," You admitted. Adam took his fingers out of you and made a whole show of cleaning them up.
He finally took off his boxers and his erect dick was something to marvel. The other people he's fucked have survived a national disaster. "You happy now? I'm sure you wanted the original dick itself, didn't you?"
"Mhm," you mindlessly responded, too busy thinking of that going inside you.
Adam took your chin with his left hand, his right hand going to your hip as he pushed himself inside you, "You're tight."
Your face turned red at the comment, and then before you knew it, he started bucking his hips back and forth, letting out sweet groans of pleasure, tufts of pubic hair
Adam was making you see stars as he continued to fuck you, his left hand now resting on your stomach. More specifically, the bulge from his dick. Your eyes widened as your eyes went to him, then your stomach, and then back to him, who grinned at you in response.
"Are you close?" He asked as he went to play with your tits. You nodded feverishly. Adam didn't even bother to pull out. He just blew his load inside and tugged on your nipples until you also came.
"I have another gig tomorrow, so I gotta go. We can take a picture before I go & I'll give you an autograph, 'kay?"
"Already? Can't you stay just one night?" You frowned as you opened the camera app and gave Adam your phone.
"Yup. Sorry babe, can't stay any longer," Adam made a duck face and a peace sign. He handed you your phone, your messages app opened. A phone number.
"Bye A-" but he was already gone.
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puripurin · 3 months
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[50, 100, 150, 250 and 350 follower special] [Yan! Omega x Male Reader x Yan! Bunny Hybrid]
— You coughed as you suddenly breathed in only to realize two large purple eyes were staring at you. They blinked two times before they were pulled away harshly.
"Move it you whore. Just because we made an agreement to share him doesn't mean I'll just let you infect him with your stripper mindset." The person with bunny ears degraded the man with a harsh tone. However, the crude remarks only made him burst into laughter.
"How about you stop coming at me when you look like some of my coworkers with that skin-tight body suit?" He mocked the bunny hybrid, who put his middle finger in his face.
"At least I don't go around shoving my dick into other people other than (Y/n). Sometimes I can't believe I have to work with a bitch like you!" The bunny hybrid scowled at the other person. You raised your eyebrow at the two's arguments.
"Right... so what the fuck is going on?" You stopped their glaring at one another by making them shift their focus on you. Almost immediately, they came super close to you. The bunny hybrid slapped his hand on the other person's mouth before speaking up.
"The name's Clear Blackwell! I'm non-binary, so use he/ they pronouns." They winked and blew a kiss before swiftly pulling their hand away and glaring at the man who bit his hand.
"I'm Cecil, and the reason you're here is that you need to be taught a lesson on why you shouldn't break the rules." He kissed you on the nose before moving back a bit to cross his arms with a glare on his face.
"What were the rules?" You questioned, not recalling being given any rules. "No talking to anyone outside of work colleagues for work-related things, friends, family or people in the service industry. No watching porn. No seeking dates with anyone and so on and so forth. We tried our best to make it lenient, but you broke Every. Single. Rule." Cecil shook his head in disappointment. Oh, they were probably the ones you kept receiving in the mailbox of your apartment complex that they wrote with blood. Obviously, you didn't follow it and threw it away. You were going to say something but Clear started to speak.
"Sigh, this is one of the few times I have to agree with this whore. You have been out and about prancing around, flaunting yourself to anyone who wants to see it. Ugh... do you know how many times I had to call up my bodyguards to kill all of those cunts who dared to indulge themselves in your desires?" Clear's eyes twitched as they seethed in anger and frustration. You looked at them with a blank stare before realizing what they meant.
"YOU KILLED MY DATES!?!?" You shrieked in horror. It was no wonder why not a single one of your dates messaged you back for a second date. You tried moving away from them, but Clear slammed his hands on the chair handles to stop you from moving.
"And don't play as if you're scared. I don't like it when someone that belongs to me pretends to be all innocent whilst whoring themselves out." Clear inhaled and exhaled to calm themself down and moved away from you. Cecil patted Clear on the back in comfort before moving towards you.
"Your punishment is going to be rough. Although we wanted our first time having sex with you to be gentle, unfortunately, you couldn't keep yourself in check, so it has come down to this." Cecil sighs and takes off his collar before putting it on you. He stops at a point before pulling it so tight you start to choke.
"Now let's see if you're going to disobey the rules after this." He relaxed the tightness of the collar before pulling you into a rough kiss.
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"I- I'm sho sorry f- for breaking the rulesss!" You sobbed from the pain. Almost everywhere on your body was hot with pain. Your mouth and throat were in pain even though Cecil and Clear had innocent-looking faces, their sizes were no joke. Clear kissed your swollen and bleeding lips in contentment.
"F-fuck... Clear, do you think he's learnt his lesson?" Cecil moaned as he slammed back into you, making you shudder and moan from the roughness. His face was flushed as he watched both of you make out.
"A-ah haa... Yeah... He looks so docile now, with his lips all messed up and his body covered in lovebites. Shit, this makes me want to mess him up even more... but I think he's starting to reach his limits." Clear rubs his thumb on your cheek, which nearly makes you close your eyes if you weren't getting fucked by Cecil. Cecil nods before thrusting back into you a few more times before he came inside.
"Damn... You're better than any of my clients." He kissed your cheek before rolling his eyes and kissing Clear on their lips after they motioned for a kiss. "Right, time to clean up. I'll get the towels and water." Cecil got up and brought back some towels and a few bottles of water.
Cecil cleaned up both you and Clear so fast but was pretty gentle about it before cleaning himself up. You fell asleep from exhaustion and snuggled up into a pillow at first, but Clear switched out the pillow for you to hug them instead. Clear watched as Cecil wiped off his body before speaking up.
"You're so much nicer when you aren't spouting a bunch of bullshit, you know?"
"How about you shut the fuck up before I fuck that brattiness out of you."
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Yall thought you were gonna get a full-length smut? Guess what, you got bamboozled. Sorry if their personalities switch up like crazy, yall have no ideas how hard it is to write this shit down before valentine's day so you have time to write a val. special.
Anyways, for those of you who don't know, Cecil and Clear are the very first ocs I wrote about to publish on here and I appreciate all of the people who scrolled through my blog to read everything like thirsty dogs. Thank you.
Also i squizshed every follower milestone to one poast is because realistically, i aint gon an write all of that but I might reblog later to write out the full smut. Ah, almost forgot, if Clear's intro is bad here IM SORRY CUS LIKE IDK HOW YOU DO THIS WITH CONFISENCE OMG IF YALL ASK ME TO CHANGE IT ILL CHANGE IT CUS ITS BADDD 😭😭😭😭 Also Cecil not saying his last name intentional.
Once again, without the jokes or spelling errors, I'm actually grateful that yall actually comment, like and follow my writing. So I might go back on my old quotev ACC to rewrite and finish the story that I posted before. Any questions that you all might have, I'll answer in the comments. Also yes, I will write pt2 for cute! Monster's father.
(noto prooftred)
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wilbursoot-updates · 1 year
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Lovejoy is in this article!
Wake Up! Lovejoy are already a phenomenon
Squashed into a tour bus somewhere in Berlin are the biggest band that – unless you’re as chronically online as us, Dear Reader – you’ve maybe never heard of. With sold-out tours across the UK, Europe and North America, millions of monthly Spotify listeners and a spot in the UK Top 40 with their latest single ‘Call Me What You Like’, Lovejoy could be mistaken for veterans.
Far from it. Their first proper bit of press is, well, this very cover interview. They’re gearing up to release only their third (or maybe fourth, depending how you count their just dropped ‘From Studio 4’ collection, released under the name Anvil Cat) EP, ‘Wake Up & It’s Over’, and those sold-out tours? The first shows they’ve ever played. It’s rare this amount of hype surrounds a guitar band these days, so who the fuck are Lovejoy?
Formed during the early 2021 UK lockdown, Lovejoy consists of Will Gold as the frontman, Joe Goldsmith on lead guitar, Ash Kabosu on bass, and Mark Boardman on drums. Seemingly brought together by sheer luck, their epic ascent is the result of a lifetime of individual hard work and some serious fan devotion over the past couple of years.
It’s taken a while to pin the band down, and we catch them just after their first full UK tour as they embark on the European leg. It’s all been a bit of a whirlwind.
“I think it was our 32nd show yesterday, which is just nuts,” says Ash, who introduces himself as the one who doesn’t talk and proceeds to lead the interview. “Literally every show we’ve played, we’ve been like, ‘That was the best one!’ Then the next one, ‘Oh, that was the best one!’”
“I’ve especially been enjoying acclimating myself to not knowing where I’m going to be falling asleep every night,” says Will, “which is a very hard thing to get around. But it’s a lot of fun. I’m really enjoying it. And I love seeing everyone’s faces because we’ve been somewhat of a lockdown band. To now be able to put faces to the numbers is great; it’s lovely to see and speak to them.”
Describing their very first live shows at the end of 2022 as “teething”, Lovejoy admit they’re still getting to grips with it all. Although the size of their fanbase means they could’ve easily sold out bigger venues than the humble Electric Brixton they headed up on this tour, they didn’t want to skip steps for a good reason.
“Rock music has always been what me and Joe were the most interested in” -Will Gold
“We didn’t want to be bad,” says Ash, frankly. “It’s a completely different ballpark to just, you know, playing guitar in your bedroom, and there are so many moving parts and so many things you don’t think about that you need to learn and understand. We didn’t want to deliver a show to the fans that wasn’t good enough, so we’ve been deliberately ramping it up step by step and going through the process as naturally as possible.”
“It’s so much more personable and fun to make mistakes in front of a crowd of a couple hundred people who are along with you for the ride than when you start to get into the larger crowds,” adds Will. “Making a mistake, at least for me, really gets to me, but if I’m in a room with less people, and they’re there for the story, I feel more ready to make mistakes.”
Will and Joe cut their teeth playing with a folk punk band a few years prior to Lovejoy forming. After what Will describes as a “very dramatic first gig”, they went their separate ways, but his lust for live never went away. Finding one another at the beginning of the pandemic, Joe came to visit Will before the lockdowns kicked in and decided to sleep on the sofa rather than risking taking public transport back and forth to London.
“We wrote our entire first EP in my basement and very quickly decided we’re going to need a drummer and a bassist because all the stuff we were writing was band stuff,” Will explains. “It wasn’t our normal folk stuff that we were used to – and rock music has always been what me and Joe were the most interested in; even when we were in that folk band, we used to implore the lead singer if we could write some indie music please, and he would always be like, nah, not really into Arctic Monkeys actually.”
So they set out to find both a bassist and a drummer. Fate did its thing, and upon walking into a Smashburger in Brighton, Will met Ash, bass guitar in tow, and asked him if he’d like to be in a band.
“Ash is not one to say no to many exciting adventures,” says Will, “so he said yeah, and I gave him my address. Joe was very sceptical at first when I said I found a bassist in a burger shop.”
“I think for me personally,” adds Ash, “I’m living in Brighton – which is kind of a young, creative place – you often have conversations in pubs and places where people are like, we should do this, we should do that, and I genuinely thought that this was just another one of those conversations. Like, ‘Hey, I’m in a band, do you want to play?’ I never thought in my wildest dreams anything would even come of it. I didn’t even think we’d practice, let alone be playing shows in front of thousands of people.”
As for Mark, he was booked for the day via the freelancer hiring website Fiverr. When they couldn’t pay him the fee he was owed, they instead offered him a spot in the band. 
“I said, look, you’re sick at this, do you want to just join the band?” Will explains. “Mark thought about it for a good five seconds and then said yes.”
“I was really determined, playing acoustic guitar and learning stuff from YouTube and Arctic Monkeys songbooks” -Joe Goldsmith
Echoing Ash’s sentiments, Mark recalls, “I thought it would be another band that I’d join that wouldn’t even release on Spotify. Now we’ve sold out tours in the UK, Europe, America….”
Life before Lovejoy was very different for most of the boys. Mark was at university studying editing, hoping to work in visual effects, letting drumming take the back seat. “It would have been a grind for like 40 years to get a good paying job, and Will came along and saved me. So I’m very grateful for that,” he says.
Ash was working in broadcasting as a producer for TV, a job he’d gotten into after studying film production at uni, and had taught himself animation as another means of income. “Unlike Mark, I actually enjoyed it,” he adds.
As for Joe, he was working as a tree surgeon, which is a flashier-sounding name than what the job actually entailed. “I was literally just cleaning up branches on the floor,” he says. “I wasn’t even allowed to go up the trees.”
Will isn’t such a stranger to the spotlight, as he edited for the YouTube channel SootHouse in the late 2010s, later creating his own channel as Wilbur Soot and amassing a sizeable following on the streaming platform Twitch (although the other boys say they had no idea about his following when they joined the band, Ash noting, “I just thought he was quite a tall, handsome man, we’re just here because we fancy Will”).
With the band assembled, they started recording together in Will’s bedroom. In early 2021, the UK was still firmly in lockdown, so with all studios closed, it was their only choice. When they finally made it to a studio, the group had two days to record five songs, the ones that would make up their first EP, 2021’s ‘Are You Alright?’.
“We didn’t get enough done,” says Will, “which is why the first EP actually has scratch vocals. We just used my draft vocals that are then doubled up and thickened out. And also because it would have been far too expensive to just keep going back.”
“Which is why, little easter egg,” adds Ash, “some of the lyrics are wrong. We don’t sing those anymore, so the fans get very confused when we perform some of the earlier songs.”
The whole journey has been a learning curve for all four members. With none of them coming from a proper musical background, there was no one to guide them in the process. “We kind of had to jump headfirst in and see what we can do off the back of it,” says Will.
That isn’t to say they haven’t put the work in, though. With each of the boys picking up their instruments in their childhood or teenage years, it feels like they’ve been setting up their own individual dominoes, hitting the ground running when they were knocked down in perfect formation.
“There’s a photo of me when I was a baby,” Mark begins, explaining where he got his start in music. “I couldn’t even walk, and I’m on my auntie’s lap, who originally taught me drums. I’ve been wanting to play since I could speak, basically, but we could never afford a kit. And then I got to about eight years old, my parents finally got me an electric drum kit, and my auntie started teaching me. I caught up with her quickly, which was crazy. I always wanted to be in a band, but I was thinking more realistically, it’s the same odds as becoming a famous football player or something like that. Then along came these boys, and it all changed.”
“I was really determined from when I was about 13, 14?” Joe recalls, “Playing acoustic guitar and just learning stuff from YouTube and Arctic Monkeys songbooks, working out tabs and things like that. I was pretty dead set on at least giving it a shot to try.”
Ash’s start was similar, learning to play guitar with his dad. “When I was very young, my dad found an old Spanish guitar in the attic of our family home that wasn’t ours,” he tells us. “I’ve kind of always played guitar, and I’ve always been interested in music; my dad is in a band as well, bless him, doing dad rock. It’s always been a part of me, but I never ever thought I’d do anything with it.”
“Not for me,” Will jumps in. “The minute I first started learning guitar, I was like, this is what I want. When I was a teenager, I used to follow around bands and go to all their shows, and I knew from that moment I want this as my creative outlet. This is where I want to put my creative energy. I literally remember I shut myself in my room and practised guitar for like ten hours a day in the beginning. I missed two summers doing that. To finally be in this position I’m in now, thanks to all the wonderful support we’ve gotten from people, a lot of them have come across from the YouTube space, is just absolutely humbling. I’m trying to give it back in any way I can.”
“I like to make rumours amongst the fan base; we’ve made up a bunch of nonsense” -Ash Kabosu
It’s fair to say Lovejoy have been pulled substantially further up the ladder by a deeply devoted fan base, but that’s part of what makes their trajectory so exciting. There hasn’t been a new guitar band that’s had venues bursting at the seams like this for a long time. Just two self-released (on their own label Anvil Cat via AWAL) EPs, debut ‘Are You Alright?’ and follow-up ‘Pebble Brain’ garnered enough love to have fans queuing around the block for hours on end when the live shows finally came. It’s reminiscent of what 5SOS were seeing at the start of their career ten years ago, or that other numbers band.
And the devotion goes both ways, too; Lovejoy play games with the fans, leaving puzzles on social media for the fans to solve, firing confetti with QR codes printed on every other piece out at their London headline show. Their involvement hasn’t gone unnoticed.
“Oh, man, I love them,” Ash gushes. “One of the best feelings for me is when we create something, even if it’s something as simple as a little photo shoot, the response is incredible. And to inspire other people to create through our creativity is just so rewarding. My favourite part of it is seeing the writing, the poetry, the paintings, the drawings, like all the art that comes back to us is incredible.”
Joe adds, “Every single person that I’ve met after a show or before a show, they’re all so respectful and all so lovely. And they’re just so generous.”
Ash continues, “They make such an effort and go out of their way to listen to the support bands’ music and show up for them; they show up on time and fill the place out for everyone. And then they go crazy jumping around and singing to everyone��s music, and that’s just so fucking cool.”
With new EP ‘Wake Up & It’s Over’ on the horizon, it’ll be their first proper release since 2021. A break away from recording to do the touring part of being a new band has led to Lovejoy’s longest writing phase yet and has played a part in shaping the sound of their new material. This time around, being able to take more time to record and more studio options, they’ve fined tuned their sound and brought it closer to their personal ideal.
Aiming for something a little heavier this time, the boys wanted to pull in their individual influences more drastically. For Will, that’s shouty British lyrics and overdriven guitars (he calls Arctic Monkeys the most famous example), with Ash also growing up on the late 2000s indie of Foals and Bombay Bicycle Club. Mark, on the other hand, was introduced to bands like Bring Me The Horizon and Asking Alexandria by his sister at a young age, pushing him into heavier territory when it came to discovering his own tastes and allowing the band to take on the slogan of ‘the only indie band with a double kick drum’. (Joe simply adds, “In the words of Brandon Flowers, it’s indie rock and roll for me.”)
Opening track ‘Portrait of a Blank Slate’ pulls in those influences most brazenly, employing the mathy Foals-y lead guitar, ‘Favourite Worst Nightmare’ era Arctic Monkeys fiddly bass, and wordy vocals a la The Wombats. “I can’t wait to play that for thousands of people,” says Joe.
They’ve been road-testing some of the other tracks too, the poppier (see: jumpier) ‘Consequences’ and ‘Warsaw’, as well as the single ‘Call Me What You Like’, but the rest have been kept a secret, one track particularly well.
Initially beginning the recording of this EP late last year, the boys weren’t 100% satisfied with the tracks. Having already played some of the tracks live, fans developed a particular affinity for one called ‘It’s Golden Hour Somewhere’, and up until the EP drops, have been under the impression it isn’t going to be released.
“I like to make rumours amongst the fan base,” says Ash, “I sort of said yeah, it’s scrapped, we just don’t like it, it’s not up to scratch, it doesn’t fit the nature of the EP, blah, blah, blah. We’ve just made up a bunch of nonsense. And they’ve bought into it. And as I expected, they’re also campaigning to bring it back. We’ve seen signs at shows saying ‘PLAY GOLDEN HOUR’. It’s just a bit of fun, and I think the relief and the excitement they’ll feel on the day that it comes out to just see it in the tracklisting will be worth it. I think for the amount of time that the fans have been waiting, we want it to be as special as possible.”
Even with ‘Call Me What You Like’ landing at No.32 on the UK Top 40 – an enormous feat and a rarity for a new band these days – it’s still what the fans think that means the most to Lovejoy. 
“It was very validating to see it go that far,” says Will. “I think that was our longest-ever lyric writing time; we had the tune down for about ten months before I even penned the lyrics that ended up going in the final release. To see that time pay off is amazing, but we had no idea it would get that reception. It’s more important that our fans really love what we’re putting out. We’re aiming to create music that will really connect with our fan base, and you know, we’ll give them back what they’ve given us.”
With formative years that any new band would dream of, a knockout first tour and an audience hungry for more, Lovejoy are keen to maintain the hype. Currently using soundcheck time to write new material, every spare hour is used wisely while they’re on the road, Ash hinting they’ve already got new songs saved up for when they return home. This summer, they’ll be hitting the festival circuit, playing Reading and Leeds for the first time and undoubtedly not the last. The path may not be fully paved yet, but it’s definitely leading somewhere exciting.
Will says, “We’ve felt that wave of energy from the audience singing our words back at us, and that’s really influenced my lyrical style and our music instrumentally, which took a lot longer. 2022 was a sort of foundational year; I feel like this is the launch in 2023 into this next era of Lovejoy.”
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runningfrom2am · 3 months
Text
cold nights // part fifteen
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summary: you showed him colours he knows he can't see with anyone else.
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
wc: 3.1k
masterlists / nav / requests
tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, r is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.
a/n: another happy birthday post for @that-veela-girl bc i love her and thank you so so much for supporting me and reading my stuff and helping me with it too AH it just means so much to me!!
my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)
send me any and all of your thoughts! here!
series masterlist // playlist
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You didn't talk about a single important thing in the hour that followed. You had changed into more comfortable day clothes, something Coryo instantly thought made you look more like yourself, and somehow made your way outside onto the back porch swing.
"Did you win your prize?" You ask, staring out over the meadow behind your home as you gently rock the bench back and forth with one foot on the ground.
"I did." He smiles, unable to take his eyes off of you. You catch him staring as you turn to look at him, an excited smile on your face.
"Did you really?" You grin, excitedly reaching out and placing your hands on his thigh, hoping that it wasn't a joke.
"I did, yeah." He confirms, chuckling. "Highbottom was very against it, but the odds weighed against him." Coryo shrugs.
"Oh, Coryo, that's wonderful. Congratulations." You pat his leg before removing your hands, retreating them to your own lap.
"I owe it all to you."
"Why is that, anyway?" You ask, eyes once again focussed on the wind forcing the grass this way and that. "I knew you needed people to like me, but you never told me why."
He lets out a breath while he delays his response. "Well... The task they gave us was to turn the tributes into something people could get attached to- something people wanted to watch." He explains. "You made it easy. I just needed to get people to see you for who you were. To see that you were worth watching. That you were special." He shrugs, looking down at his lap and picking at his nails. "It helped that Sejanus's family paid out the prize, I think." He chuckles.
"Ah." You nod, not wanting to think about it anymore but still glad you got answers. "Is he upset with me?"
"Sejanus?" Coryo asks and you hum. "No, not one bit." He promises.
"I-I mean..." You stammer, taking a deep breath. "About Marcus?"
"No." Coryo repeats, shaking his head. "He left before the games started, he didn't see what happened. I explained it to him before we even left the arena, though. He felt bad for even thinking for a moment you had done something wrong."
"You're sure?" You ask quietly, eyes brimming red as you look over at him. He nods. He wants to reach out and touch you, hold your hand, but he's unsure if that's even okay. Even after what happened the night before the games, now you were treating him very much as a friend. He didn't want to overwhelm you, so he would leave those questions for another day.
"Positive."
"You don't speak of your Dean favourably." You comment, wanting to change the subject. "Why? He was very good to me."
"You met him?"
"He saw me off at the train station." You nod. "Gave me some cash, promised me that compact would make it back to you."
"Oh..." He mumbles. "He just has some vendetta against me. I don't know why."
"I see." You nod. "That makes sense... He told me that I was lucky I survived you. It was odd."
Coryo chews the inside of his cheek, and it was his turn to look out over the scenery while you watched him. "He's always hated me. I've done nothing to him."
"I did not think you would." You defend quickly, the air becoming thick around you. You answered too promptly- he would know that you were afraid. Maybe think you were lying. Even as he sat next to you, smiling more than you had ever seen him do it before, you couldn't look at him the same.
Coryo can sense that you still don't want to talk about the games in any major capacity, and it was in his best interest to not bring up Bobbin, so he changes the subject. "Your cat is adorable, by the way." He can tell that makes you comfortable enough to relax again. He missed you looking at him.
"Isn't he?" You smile, shifting your gaze from him to the back door, hoping to catch a glimpse of your pet in the small window. "He's a sweetheart."
"I'm just glad he didn't attack me." Coryo jokes.
"What?" You laugh. "Why would he?"
"I don't know! I've never had a pet. They scare me a little."
"Oh, Coriolanus Snow is afraid of a cat?" You tease him. "I didn't know that about you."
"Y/N! Lucy Gray is here!" Your mother calls from inside the house and you're quickly distracted, clumsily standing up from the bench, leaving it swinging unsteadily underneath him.
"Coming!" You call out, grabbing his hand to pull him up with you. "You must meet her, she's my best friend. If you think I'm good company you'll see she's all the better."
"I've met her." He replies, allowing you to pull him up from the bench anyway.
"You have?" You ask, brow furrowed.
"Yeah, she helped Sejanus and I find you."
"Sejanus is here?" You smile wide and he nods, a little confused.
"Yeah, he came with-" He doesn't even finish his sentence before you're moving quickly into the house and to the living room where your mother had let them in, leaving the door swinging open behind you.
"Sejanus!" You call out as you see him, almost tackling him in a hug- armed with the confidence in Coryo's honesty that he didn't hate you.
He laughs, catching you in his arms. "Y/N, it's so good to see you..."
Coryo chews on the inside of his cheek as he follows you in. He wasn't met with a hug, or near the same amount of excitement. Maybe he underestimated how close you and Sejanus had become while he was stuck in the hospital ward after the bombing.
He can see the three, evenly distributed scars on the back of your leg. Healing, but still bruised all this time later. He wonders if it still hurts.
"How I have missed you- how are you doing?" You grin, pulling away from the hug and running your hands up and down Sejanus's arms.
"I'm pretty good! I've always wanted to see Twelve, so now I finally had a good excuse." He jokes, looking down at you. "How are you, though? That's much more important."
Coryo takes a moment to notice Lucy Gray staring at him. "I take it your hello didn't look like that?" She whispers, forcing him to relax his facial expression to hide any disdain.
"It did." He lies.
"Oh! My mistake then." She replies, clearly not buying it.
He thought you were treating him like a friend, but if this is how you treated friends, he obviously did not meet the mark.
"We found you guys a place to stay." Lucy Gray continues, watching you and Sejanus chat.
"Thank you." Coryo nods at her, but he's still watching you, eyes taking up and down your body, your hair, your skin- but always finding a home on your injured calf.
"Yeah, of course." She hums, arms crossed over her chest. "She'll come around, you know."
You turn, finally ready to greet Lucy Gray. "I'm sorry, I didn't even say hello to you." You giggle, giving her a gentle, less urgent hug.
"That's quite alright, Y/N/N. You see me every day." She laughs, gently rubbing your back.
"And it still doesn't feel like enough." You respond.
"I agree." She hums, pulling away and holding onto your shoulders as you smile at her. Lucy Gray is the only one who knows what you're going through, the only one besides Lennox who knows what your nightmares are like, to have you cry with your head in her lap in her backyard or even at the lake where you used to share the best days of your lives. You felt like you ruined it all, but you felt seen with her. Always.
"Lucy Gray found us a place to stay for the month." Sejanus tells his friend.
"I heard." He mumbles, fighting back the green monster bellowing behind his eyes.
"Yes! Right, I'll get you guys there and settled. I'm sure Y/N is just dying for her afternoon nap." Lucy Gray says, gently squeezing your shoulders. You nod. Even though your visit with Coryo was pleasant, it still placed a weight just behind your ribs you couldn't describe. You needed a break, and your best friend could see it.
"Yes, well, can't get enough of my bed these days..." You joke, but it doesn't come out as lighthearted as you intended, all context considered. You clear your throat. "We are such stuff as dreams are made on; and our little life is rounded with a sleep."
"Certainly." Lucy Gray smiles, pulling you into a quick side hug.
Coryo watches, avoiding reacting to what he saw happening in front of him. With your mother, and now with Lucy Gray. No one here, apparently, just hums in confusion or looks at you funny when you say something that hardly makes sense. They know you. They understand every word; or at least they pretend they do. They answer accordingly, like it was just a normal bit of conversation. There was no one else quite like you, and he was lucky to get to hear it. He knew that, but they knew it first. By the time the games had started, by the time you won and left, Coriolanus had started picking up the habit as well. You weren't entertainment, leaving something to question after every conversation, it was you. All you. And he loved you for it.
"How long will you be here?" You ask, returning your attention to him now. Finally.
"A month." Coryo answers promptly, smiling at you. At first, he thought a month was a long time until the next train left, but now, it didn't feel like nearly enough.
"Wonderful!" You smile, clapping excitedly. "So I will most definitely see you again."
"It's you I'm here to see." He grins, a pink flush spreading on his cheeks.
It matches yours almost perfectly. "Good." You nod. "I'm glad." You almost choke over the words and hope he doesn't notice.
"That reminds me! Lucy Gray's show tonight, are you going?" Sejanus asks you and you glance nervously over at her. It seems to Coryo that his friend was too eager to engulf himself in local culture, when they were supposed to be there to see you.
"Oh, you guys are certainly welcome but..." She looks back at you as she speaks, silently communicating with you on the best way to say this. You just nod. You trust her to speak for you. "Y/N typically doesn't come. It's nothin' new to her, any of my music she wants to hear I can sing for her anytime." She smiles.
"Coryo?" Sejanus asks him now, and he looks at you the same way you looked at Lucy Gray.
You sense his hesitation. Clearly, he will only go if you do. "You know what? I wasted time, and now doth time waste me. I'll come."
Lucy Gray looks surprised, but very pleased. "You will?"
"Sure, why not." She knows why not, but she won't dig any deeper into it in front of the boys.
"Alrighty then! We better get going, I've left rehearsals for long enough. The Covey is probably out searchin' by now." Lucy Gray says, waving the boys to pass her to get to the door.
"Are you sure?" She whispers to you once they cannot hear. "Don't feel pressured."
"I want to spend time with them." You whisper back. "I'll be fine."
She nods, a look of worry in her eyes as she hugs you again.
"Coryo?" You call as you pull away, walking past her to get to the front entrance of your small home.
His head whips up at your voice calling his name, looking at you expectantly. "Will you..." You start, and Coryo watches closely as you begin wringing your hands together in front of yourself.
Yes. Whatever you need, yes.
"If it's not too much trouble, can you come get me before you go? I don't like to walk at night..."
"Of course." He answers without hesitation. "I'll be back later, then."
"Thank you." You smile, cheeks red from the embarrassing question. "I'll see you guys tonight."
You had your so desired afternoon nap after that. Your mom came and laid in bed with you, gushing over how Coriolanus was such a good guest. A kind soul, she said. She could see it in his eyes, apparently, and hear it in the way he spoke about you. You wanted to believe her, but you really weren't sure.
You couldn't help but see him differently after he killed Bobbin. It wasn't necessarily that he killed him, it was the overkill that really haunted you. That last swing after the threat was so clearly subdued. He didn't look like himself anymore. It kept you up at night- and when it didn't, it was a frequent event in your nightmares.
You woke with a jolt from your nap, picturing your mentor standing over you with his blond curls falling over his eyes. You had a hand out to try protect yourself as you slid back across the cold, cemented ground of the arena. This was a common nightmare you had since you returned.
So when you got home from work only to see him standing in your living room, with your mother who knew nothing but the good things about him, you could have cried. Screamed. You thought for a moment that maybe you were sleeping and the dreams had adapted into something worse, but no. He was there. And he was kind, and so happy to see you that the boy you spent most nights remembering seemed incredibly unlikely to exist. When you looked into his eyes, as he silently begged you not to run, he was just Coryo.
Quick footsteps in the hallway turn your attention to the door. "You alright?" Your brother asks, hand braced on the frame to stop himself as if he had been moving too quickly to do it on his own.
"I'm fine." You nod, taking a deep breath and swallowing back your fear again.
Worried, Lennox looks back down the hall before coming into your room, closing the door behind himself. You move over in your shared bed, giving him his spot back as he slides in next to you.
"Nightmare?" He asks quietly, laying on his side to face you.
You just nod.
"Was it... about him?"
You want to lie. Tell him that no, it was just the games in general, but you knew he wouldn't buy it. Not after answering the door to see the boy whose name you mumbled in your sleep, begging for mercy standing in front of him.
That was the reason you had to tell your brother in the first place.
"No, I- Coryo, please..." Your brother hears you shifting under the blanket next to him, watching as Tybalt's ears perk up from your feet. "Please... Don't!"
"Y/N?" He mumbles, rolling over. "You okay?"
Then he realizes as he sees your eyes scrunched shut that you're still asleep. Nightmares he had dealt with for almost a week now, but tonight was the first night your mother didn't insist on sleeping in the room with you, leaving him on the floor while she took his spot. He had a suspicion that your dad was doing the same, just outside the door. But this was the first time you spoke.
"Y/N." He sits up, grabbing your shoulder to try and shake you awake. "Wake up. It's just a nightmare."
You sit up so fast it makes him jump back, the scream that fell from your lips made his heart race even faster. "Y/N?" He asks, quickly crawling back into the bed and trying to touch you, help you, but you're pushing yourself back against the wall, grasping at the sheets as you looked around. It takes you a moment to realize where you are- home. Safe.
Your brother turns his head as your parents come rushing in to comfort you. He doesn't say anything about you talking until you finally settle them enough with your calming smile, assuring them that you're fine and they should go back to bed. That they needed their sleep, while your own cheeks were still red and stained with tears.
He doesn't say a word until he's sure he's heard them go back to bed, staring at you as you lay back down under your quilt and your chest is still rising and falling so fast he's wondering how you're even getting any oxygen to your blood.
"You were talking to him." Lennox whispers, and you just turn your head to look at him.
"I'm sorry." You whisper, voice still hoarse from the scream.
"What did he do to you?" By now, Coriolanus Snow or "Coryo", was a common name in your household. You only spoke of him favourably this last week you'd been home and even before that. That he helped you, saved you.
"Nothing, bud. It was just a dream." Now you're hushing him, reaching over and pulling the blanket up over his shoulder.
You can tell your brother doesn't believe you, but he doesn't know how to ask. What to ask, how to go about it without setting you off or hearing an answer that makes his blood boil so intensely that he jumps on the next Capitol bound freight train to do something you would never forgive him for.
"He didn't hurt me. I promise." You whisper again, sensing his fear. "I just..." You cut yourself off with a sigh. "Can you keep a secret?"
"You know I can." He promises.
You nod, small smile falling on your lips that's illuminated only by the moonlight streaming through the window. "Do you remember that boy from District Eight? Bobbin?" You whisper and he nods, hanging on every word.
"I watched Coriolanus kill him." You continue, assessing his reaction; confusion and shock settling in all at once. "And it was... Scary. He was already dead, but he hit him again and the look in his eyes I-..." You slightly shake your head. "It wasn't him. That was the last time I saw him. Coryo, I mean."
"How'd he get in?" Your brother whispers. "What was he doing?" It's all he could think to ask. Maybe he had gone to try and save you- to break you out. If you had told him that an hour ago, he would have believed it based on how you spoke about him.
"Sejanus, my other friend, snuck in. He brought bread to scatter over his tribute, and Coryo had to get him out safe." You explain. "He did, but not until after..." You sniff, wiping your eyes with the sheet.
"It's like you didn't know him." Your brother says, fully understanding.
"Yeah." You reply quietly. Lennox had always understood you. "I don't know if he was ever really my friend. If he's not the person I thought he was."
"I'm sorry." Your brother settles on.
"Nature teaches beasts to know their friends."
"You are not a beast." He whispers, brow furrowed.
You smile sadly at him. "You should get back to sleep."
"Yeah." You whisper, looking away and out the window at the sun beginning to set. Coryo would be here soon, and suddenly you were regretting agreeing to go out at all. "It was about him."
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jogetsobsessed · 5 months
Text
Little Life - Paul Lahote
It was a seasonably warm day as the sun shone through the canopy of the towering evergreens. The buzzing of honey bees darting from flower pot to flower pot and the rustling of squirrels running along tree branches. 
The small laughter and water splashing added to the forest's serenity. Hissing came from the grill as burgers and hot dogs were flipped. The sound of a soccer ball being passed back and forth and PG trash talk mixed with the Sunday afternoon melody. 
The creaking of the old porch swing, one that held so many core memories for so many different people creaked as your feet pushed against the old floorboards of Emily's front porch. 
Gazing out past the porch steps and into the vast front yard you couldn't help but smile when your daughter erupted into a fit of giggle as her dad cupped his hand and poured a small amount of water on her head. 
The wobbly water table was gifted to you and Paul from another young couple on the reservation after their son outgrew it. There was no doubt in your mind that it was gifted to them as well. You were probably the sixth or seventh family to own it. The years of usage were evident as the paint faded after spending long summers baking outside in the stuffy heat. But it didn't matter to your little girl. 
Since the rain had begun staying away and the temperatures started to pick up, the pack had gotten back into the routine of the weekly family-style barbecues. Today was the first day that it had been warm enough to break out the old water table and your daughter was jumping up and down with excitement when she saw Paul loading it up in the back of the pickup. 
You watched as she talked Jared and Kim's ears off and as they nodded along probably having no idea as to what the two-year-old was talking about. Paul pushed himself off the ground, leaving your daughter to talk about her nonsense, and strode towards you. 
Emily decided to go and find Sam at the grill to inquire about how much longer lunch was going to take, leaving the other half of the porch swing empty. She and Paul shared soft smiles as they passed each other on the front step. 
“Don't tell Em, but I think Kim has her beat for a favorite aunt,” you laughed at his statement. No matter how much your daughter loved Kim, she was always going to love Emily just a little bit more. Those two had been connected since you and Paul showed her off to the pack when she was just a few days old. Emily offered to be her babysitter when she found out you wanted to go back to work once your baby girl had hit eight months old. Which was an offer you and Paul gladly accepted, feeling at ease at the thought of your girl in the caring hands as special as someone like Emily. 
“Kim can butter her up all she wants but there is no way,” he laughed, this time wrapping his arm around your shoulder. His warmth brought you happiness and comfort even in the warm summer months. “What even is she talking about I don't know if I have ever seen Embry so confused". 
“I think she’s trying to tell them that story we read last night, but you know it's coming out of a two-year-old mind, one who fell asleep before she even heard the ending”. 
“Oh boy". 
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“Sweetheart you need to come eat something”, you called over to where your daughter was still standing in the grass, playing with her toys in the shallow water of the play table. 
You saw her physically recoil at the thought of not playing so she could eat lunch and you couldn't help but roll your eyes. Why did toddlers have to be so defiant? 
After calling out to her a few more times you looked over at your husband who was standing at the grill with Sam, your pleading eyes burning holes into his. 
You watched as he pushed off the grill and waltzed over to the water table, crouching to your daughter's height. 
Everyone was invested in this battle between her and the two of you all of them turned from their spots at the picnic tables so they could see if Paul was going to be victorious. 
Your daughter seemed to be putting up a good fight, even cocking her hands on her hips as she tried to reason with her dad. But luckily, Paul knew how to resist the puppy dog eyes. 
After a long standoff, you could see your daughter starting to cave once she saw Emily come outside with a platter of freshly baked famous brownies. A few of the boys saw it, so they each grabbed a couple and threw them on their plates, talking loudly about how they wanted to eat the whole platter. 
That was enough for your little girl. She set her toys down and stretched her arms up towards Paul. Triumphantly, he picked her up and carried her towards the picnic tables, where you had a plate of pre-cut food waiting for her. 
“You need to eat your lunch, and then you can have a brownie that your aunt Emily just made. 
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The day faded into night as the cotton candy sunset faded into darkness. The glow of the fire lit up the front yard at Emily’s and provided enough warmth to ward off the brisk early summer nights. 
With great force, you had convinced your daughter to trade her polka-dot swimsuit for a light sweatshirt and sweatpants. 
Now she was sitting on Emily's lap, Sam helping her make another s’more. You knew all that sugar was powering her awake since she had skipped her nap earlier in the day. She had to have been exhausted, you knew that more likely than not Paul was going to be carrying her inside once you got back home. 
“How’d we get so damn lucky?” you and Paul were snuggled under a blanket the log the two of you were sitting on was just perfect in size for the pair of you. The clear night sky had caught your eye so you only hummed in response. No matter how many years you lived in the great Pacific Northwest, you would never get tired of its beauty. “More importantly, what did I do to deserve this perfect little life? I've got the most drop-dead gorgeous wife on the plane and the most perfect daughter”. 
“Yeah, I don't know how you swung that how much did you have to bride the big guy upstairs”, you cackled at your joke as Paul chuckled and pulled you closer. 
“You know your something huh”. 
“Says you”. 
You shared a nice moment of comfortable silence as both of you watched your daughter bounce around from pack member to pack member victoriously showing off the s’more that she assembled with the help of her favored aunt. 
“You wanna know something”, you questioned, your eyes never leaving your daughter. 
“What”. 
“I'm glad I get to live this little life with you”. 
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