#which is more than pink Whitney can say. sorry. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

banned-for-horny · 3 months

Text

Final Treat

Kylar has one final treat to give Whitney as a reward for his training.

cw: petplay, mindbreak (i guess? or stockholmey?), kylar x whitney, and kylar being a creep like always.

a/n: um. yeah. I don't have an explanation for this one either. there is one very specific doujin artist in my head that haunted me while writing this. not gonna say it, but it definitely did stuff to my brain. fuckbuddies to lovers but also you were blackmailed into this. idk. my hormones are going wild.

Today is a big day, and there is a slight chance that Kylar's going to get murdered in a few minutes.

He flicks the switch, flooding the basement with harsh light. Tucked in one corner is the extra large dog crate he'd bought some time ago, covered with a soft blanket from his own room.

"I'm back," he calls out of habit, heart fluttering when he hears the rattle of something dragging against the cage. He doesn't hesitate to reach for the blanket, ripping it aside as he says, "D-Did you miss me?"

Probably not, but Whitney's cock is drooling within its chastity cage and that's all that matters. He squirms and shifts on his knees, causing the faux pink tail to swish behind him. It's a perfect match to the paws and ears strapped to his body, not to mention the bedazzled collar dangling from his throat.

Kylar almost squirms with him, but he swallows that down and knees, unlocking the cage with trembling fingers. With a gentle tug on the lead, Whitney comes shuffling out of the cage. He does not growl. He does not snap. He does pause for a few seconds to whine when his knee touches the cold basement floor, and Kylar gasps before grabbing the blanket.

"Sorry, sorry." He lets Whitney crawl onto the sheet, then gently pats between his fake ears. "Better?"

Whitney stills, which is a much better improvement than pulling away. He keeps his eyes down, too. Very big improvement.

"Good boy," Kylar says. "Y-You did really good this week! You didn't even tear up the bed inside the cage." Granted, the last time Whitney tore the bed up, he'd hit him so hard he started to bleed, but that's besides the point. He's all healed up and acting like a good boy. In fact..."You've been such a good boy that, um, I planned a big reward for you. A-Are you ready?"

Whitney's dull eyes dart up, just a flicker of light behind his stare that makes Kylar smile. He reaches into his pocket and retrieves a small key. "I'm letting you go!"

Whitney tenses, eyes zeroing in on the key. He starts to shift and squirm again, tail wagging, only to freeze when Kylar returns it to his pocket.

"B-But first," he says and stands up. "You, uh, you have to show me your t-tricks, okay? Then we can start." With a proud nod, Kylar steps off the blanket and puts on his best stern face. "Now, sit."

Whitney blinks. For a brief second, Kylar worries he's trying too soon, that he might have to punish the ex-delinquent again. Then Whitney begins to shift, sinking back on his haunches. The position forces his knees apart for balance, but he plants his paws between his thighs for support.

"Ah, ah," Kylar scolds quickly. "Sit up."

A flicker of definace sparks in Whitney's eye, but Kylar only holds up the lead for him to comply. Carefully, the ex-delinquent shifts his weight, wobbling on his feet as he lifts his paws to his chest. A dribble of precome escapes the slit of his chastity cage.

"G-Good boy!" Kylar praises. He does not miss the way the cock twitches from the inside the cage. "N-Now, belly up?"

Whitney keeps his paws tucked to his chest when he rolls over. Kylar can't resist running his hand across the flat of his stomach at the sight, inching closer and closer to his hips and drooling cock before pulling away.

"Present."

Slowly, on hands and knees, Whitney lifts his hips, sticking his ass and tail into the air. This time, Kylar sinks his fingers into the meat of his left cheek, more to try and control his own breathing than anything. He'd had to force Whitney into this position last time for the butt plug, threatening to bring back the pump and leave him with it on max for two weeks. Now, his back arches so beautifully, tail soft and pink against his skin. He lets out a weak little whimper and leans into Kylar's palm, then again when he lets go.

"Very good..." Kylar whispers this time. "S-Such a good boy..." He kneads the little crescents he'd left behind in Whitney's skin before floating his fingers up the ridge of his spine. When he shuffles around to the delinquent's head, he tilts him up by the muzzle and can't help the smile on his face. "Perfect..."

He's ready. He orders Whitney back on his back, then to lay his legs out before grabbing the key. He's quick at removing the chastity cage (thanks, Sydney). A single squeeze of Whitney's shaft draws a low, almost strangled groan from his throat.

"Y-You did so well," Kylar says, praise spilling from his lips as he jerks the cock to attention. "You-I'm so proud of you, you're-you're incredible, such a good boy." Whitney's hips jerk and buck under the attention, outright thrusting up when his hand pulls away. "J-Just one more trick, o-okay? Sit."

Kylar scoots back, cock bobbing free as he manages to push down his shorts without standing up. He doesn't bother pulling it all the way off, the rush of power and humiliation from being fully clothed and yet excitedly showing off for a mutt burning in his veins. This is just a final test, he tells himself. Just one more trick to see if his training really stuck.

He doesn't think much of it and rolls on his knees, wiggling his already-slicked hole at Whitney. "M-Mount."

He only catches a glimpse of his ex-bully's eyes stretching wide before paws clamp on his waist. Without his hands to actually guide him, he has to rut and thrust desperately, and Kylar almost breaks and reaches back to guide him in when the cockhead finally catches on his rim.

"A-AH!" Kylar cries out as Whitney slams all the way in with a single thrust, body spasming with pain from the stretch. He fists the blanket, tears blurring his vision. Behind him, he hears the strangled panting puff from the leather muzzle, hips grinding against ass. Like the good boy he is, Whitney does not start thrusting. Not until Kylar looks behind him and clenches around the burning cock stuffed inside of him. "G-Go ahead, Whit-"

He doesn't get to say more. Whitney starts hammering into him, face screwed tight as weeks of frustration melts out of him in a loud, choppy groan. All Kylar can do is hold on for dear life, throwing his hips back to meet each thrust with a clap of skin. If Whitney starts to slow, Kylar forces himself deeper and tries to milk the cum right out of him. If Kylar stills with pain, Whitney pauses just long enough to drag his hips back and pounds away.

A particularly hard thrust knocks Kylar's elbows out. He lands on his shoulders hard, mouth drooling when the new angle drives the thick cock into his prostate. He swears his vision starts to spot, brain melting as his stomach clenches. Maybe, he thinks, he should try to regain some control, but his dick is already dripping. Cum splatters against the blanket and his shirt, droplets flying everywhere with Whitney's desperate thrusts.

Then the mutt keeps going.

"W-W-W-Wait," Kylar gurgles out. He manages to flail one hand around, seizing Whitney's lead and yanking it forward. The force chokes out the poor ex-delinquent, and Kylar uses the temporary stun to push himself away. The cock pulls out of him with a disgustingly wet squelch, loud enough to make his own twitch despite the orgasm.

Whitney's eyes burn, a storm of lust and rage that reminds Kylar so much of his days being sent into the lockers at school. He starts to let out a growl, but Kylar is quick to roll onto his back, pulling his legs to his chest.

He doesn't have to give a command this time, just reaches for Whitney's cock to realign it with his hole before moaning. Paws cage him in as Whitney towers over him, unkempt hair spilling over his face, ears and muzzle casting a silhouette against the weak basement light. Beautiful, his mind thinks. Feral, wild, trained.

"A-Aha," Kylar gasps as Whitney grinds into him, pleasure and pain and pride boiling together until a laugh spills from his lips. He clings to Whitney's forearms and throws his legs around bony hips, cock already back to full hardness. "F-Fuck, yes, p-please, please-"

Whitney's forearms shove at his head. He manages to force his paws under Kylar's head and curls around him tight, like he's clinging to a teddy bear. The only thing really getting in the way is his muzzle, but that doesn't stop the whines and whimpers from singing in Kylar's ears as his thrusting falters. Warmth floods his insides, a weeks-long deluge that makes him clench just to make sure he gets every last drop.

Somehow, after weeks of a restricted diet, Whitney still feels impossibly heavy when he collapses on Kylar. His own cock is still hard, but he can't muster up his normal mask to scold the puppy for not finishing him off again. Being squished under his naked body with his cock still inside...it makes Kylar's stomach flood with warmth. No, not warmth. Just satisfaction.

"Mrphf mhrpin hrmp."

Kylar blinks at the noise, cheek pressing into Whitney's muzzle. "H-Huh?"

"Mrphf mhrpin hrmp," Whitney muffles out and grinds his hip into Kylar's, forcing out a sharp hiss. With each slow gyration, his softened cock begins to thicken.

"Whitney?" Kylar gasps when the ex-bully starts to sit up. He can see his own fucked-out expression in Whitney's eyes. "W-Wha-AH!"

Whitney rips his arms out from under Kylar's head, frantically pawing at his muzzle. The buckles are fastened behind his head, but that doesn't seem to deter him.

"Whitney, w-wait!" Kylar sits up after him, forcing his paws away. Brain still fuzzy with afterglow, he unbuckles the muzzle from around Whitney's head. Before he can speak, he's slammed back down, head throbbing from the blow.

Then his throat is attacked with frantic, sloppy kisses as the dick in his ass returns to weak, desperate thrusts. "'m not leaving," Whitney hisses between each kiss. "You're not-fuck-" He moves up to Kylar's chin, then cheek, then only lasts on his lips for a second before jerking back with a snarl. "You-You turned me into this. You bastard, you little fuck, fuck-"

His gloved hands desperately yank Kylar closer, folding into him in the deepest mating press his body will allow. This close, all Kylar can focus on is the warmth radiating off Whitney's skin, buried deep inside of him and burning the rest of the world away. He lets out a weak moan as his fingers claw through Whitney's natural roots, knees hugging his waist.

"G-Good boy," he pants, clinging to Whitney with all his strength. "Good boy-my good boy...stay..."

Whitney's lips part, eyes darting all over before he closes the distance. He laps at Kylar's mouth, tongues twisting as he grinds deeper and deeper. Over the searing heat and burning pleasure, a twisted knot begins to tangle in the kidnapper's mind. It draws the corner of his lips into a pleased little smile, disturbed only by his captive's desperate kiss. When he feels that familiar pressure building in his stomach, he forces himself to pull away, just to watch Whitney's face as the final spark of rage in him breaks.

"Fuck, please," Whitney begs as his thrusts turn choppy. He reaches down, like he wants to outright jerk Kylar off to orgasm, but Kylar grips either wrist to lock them in place. "Please, please, please-"

And Kylar can only smile and clench tighter around his cock. "Please," he echoes with delight. "G-Good ah, AH!"

This time, he gets the chance to savor his orgasm, moaning out as his back arches. Whitney hides his face in the crook of his shoulder, but his hips still jerk and twitch, his own pained moans echoing in Kylar's ears. For a few minutes, there is nothing but their moans and gasps filling the basement. By the time Kylar manages to find some strength, he just gives the lead hooked to Whitney's collar a tug.

Obediently, Whitney slips both off and out of him, leaving Kylar to squirm at the sudden emptiness. He can already feel the sweat gluing his shirt to his back. "I-I should...change," he murmurs to himself. The second he tries to sit up, his entire torso aches with protest, and he flops back down with a groan. "Ow..."

To his surprise, Whitney snorts and rolls over, pinning Kylar down with one arm. His nose brushes against the kidnapper's hair, strangely soft and gentle as he huffs, "Don't."

Kylar doesn't have the energy left in him to speak. He just tightens his grip on the lead and nods, body tingling with satisfaction. Something tells him Whitney won't go crawling back to you any time soon. Just one less rival in his way.

#degrees of lewdity #banned writing #how much do you wanna bet my monthly will strke in two weeks #idk how to explain this dynamic #guy falls for his own victim #victim gets mindbroken in return #neither of them are okay

22 notes · View notes

bkdotblog · 2 years

Text

"Choir of Chaos," S3 E7

The Real Housewives of Salt Lake City Season 3 Episode 7 Recap

My Title: “Gay Wrongs"

My rating: 3 out of 5 dingers

Support for Lisa Barlow: Very strong

<><><>

Dear God,

There is nothing I love more on Your green Earth than when a RHOSLC episode opens with a conflict in media res!

In the very first frames of episode seven, as soon as Jen notices Angie Harrington twirling her little spaghetti legs in the parking lot of the choir auditions, she is approaching her with the velocity of a heat-seeking missile.

Angie Harrington is of course the wife of a "grown ass man" who created the fake Instagram account @shahexposed that — CRUCIALLY! — referenced Jen in name but slandered Lisa Barlow in its content.

Also, please don't freak out, but we have another Angie in our midst, who has just now decided to confront Angie H. on behalf of Lisa Barlow. She is wearing angular sunglasses and hot pink. In a fabulous coincidence, Jen is wearing the same thing, which lends the whole conversation a fun and legible visual language.

Two delegations from different alien races meeting for the first time:

The Pink team (Jen Shah, Good Angie) is arguing against rumormongering and Finsta-making, but it should be noted that Jen is only arguing on behalf of her family's name. Nothing about @shahexposed actually exposed any Shahs — that duty having already been performed by the department of Homeland Security — but anything that could even be tangentially misconstrued as an attack on one's family unit is the absolute best thing to say to a housewife if you want them to go ballistic as fast as possible.

The Gold team, which is mostly Bad Angie, is feebly attempting to counter that her husband's actions and intents do not reflect hers, but the Pink team is overwhelming in both feeling and volume. It's at this moment that Whitney Rose finds out that Bad Angie's husband was behind @shahexposed. Then something truly jaw-dropping happens: For the first time in human herstory, Whitney feels embarrassed.

A staff member alerts Heather Gay, who has been presiding over the choral auditions like a divine monarch, to the fracas. She comes outside, bafflingly sides with Bad Angie, and then returns inside. Jen follows her in an absolute rage. I get scared when mid-meltdown housewives move from one location to another because it feels like slowly watching a fire engulf a house. But I also feel a perverse, forbidden pleasure blooming somewhere deep within me... kind of like the one I feel when I watch a fire engulf a house.

With the perfect timing that has become her signature, Lisa Barlow arrives. (Actually, a staff member "reveals" her behind a curtain! I gasped) Heather regards her stoically. They still have beef!!

She sings "Away in a Manger." I think her voice is pretty good, and with a little training it could be pretty great! Of course I want to burst into applause when she finishes the verse and says, "Is that it?" Luckily a gay coded man is the first to start clapping. "Lisa Barlow, that was beautiful!" He and I say at the same time.

Lisa joins the other ladies. She and Good Angie embrace. Bad Angie looks uncomfortable. Then they include this confessional clip where the producer asked Bad Angie if she had happy memories from her friendship with Lisa (which apparently spanned decades!)* and she says this:

Sorry, but... bitch!!!

There is a brief and very cinematic moment where Bad Angie tries to flee the scene — "Whit? Whit? Can you go over the routine real quick?" — only to turn the corner to find Jen Shah.

Lisa Barlow, a literal oracle: "Everything just feels, like, weird all of a sudden."

She's right. Whitney and Bad Angie go do their little song and dance (32 counts of "When the Saints Go Marching In") and the judges are a little too impressed. Lisa goes to Jen Shah who is still fuming about the encounter and insisting everybody sit down and talk about it together. She lambasts Bad Angie and her "fat fucking Elf on the Shelf husband." What an absolutely gorgeous read. You can scroll up on this post if you want to see a photo of Angie's fat fucking Elf on the Shelf husband.

All of the ladies reconvene, but there aren't enough seats, so Bad Angie and Heather share one. Bad Angie apologizes to Jen, which makes Lisa go crazy, because nobody is apologizing to Lisa! She tries to remedy things with Heather but Heather could not be more dismissive. She basically says, Everything you're saying is right, but I don't like you and I don't want to talk to you ever again.

(It's time for a brief interlude called BK's Take, which you are free to skip. BK's Take is: I find Heather very funny, and she is clearly the Salt Lake housewife most closely aligned with the gay male agenda. In this instance, Heather exaggerated an anecdote to make Lisa seem aloof and tasteless, and Lisa defended herself appropriately. I think it's fine to privately dislike somebody on the basis of vibes, but Heather really needs to think about who she calls "fake" from here on out. It's not a good look... I'm afraid!)

Next we have Meredith and Seth together in the bath. OK!

Suddenly bottle of Dr. Teals Lavender Bath Soak appears.

All in all, a very tame display of marital affection for reality television.

Heather is touring a new space for her esthetics clinic, Beauty Lab and Laser, and it's pretty boring. In a confessional, she explains that she doesn't know why conflicts keep brewing between her and the other women. "I'm not trying to have an active conflict with any of these women," she straight up lies, "yet every time I try to do something positive or get us together, they lead with how I've done them wrong."

Oh my god, how sweet: Lisa and her husband go out to dinner, presumably with a full camera crew in tow, and when Lisa orders a Vida cocktail she wonders if the waiter knows she is Mrs. Vida. My guess is: Yep! She orders a lavender Vida cocktail with a surf and turf and jingles her new $6,900 bracelet. "I love when it's just us," she says to her husband. He says, "I know, it's strange," very soberly.

They go on to perform one of my least favorite Housewives theatrical tropes. A housewife will be sitting with her husband at an oyster bar or in the bath while recounting some personal tragedy or recent social encounter, and the husband will say things like, "How did that affect you?" "I didn't know you were so [hurt/strong/encumbered by your ancestral past]" Sorry but I'm BORED! I'd rather watch Heather walk around an empty room.

Now Jen and Coach Shah are going to talk on the couch, and instead of watching, I am going to pound my forehead into drywall! Quick BK's Take: There have been THREE husband-wife session scenes in this episode and I am OUT. This is not the Real Marriages of Salt Lake City! There is only occasion where the Real husbands' social dynamics becoming interesting to me, and its reliant on two simultaneous circumstances: 1) Their wife is embroiled in conflict and 2) All relevant parties are together at a social gathering. Everything else I do not give a fuck about. OK, that's all. Let's keep going!

Throughout the episode, I have been stunned by the acuity of Whitney Rose's observations. She and her young (step?)son meet Lisa and her young son at a park for a playdate. In a voiceover, Whitney lichrelly can't bleve she and Lisa are becoming frens. "Lisa definitely has a big sister energy, and that used to trigger me like she was looking down on me," Whitney says. I think this is a very rational characterization of their relationship. Also remember when Lisa said that she and Meredith should style Whitney and Whitney was like, "What's wrong with my style?" And Lisa said, "it's a little Utah," and Whitney made this face?

Whitney does.

Also her (step?)son is named Brooks.

Whitney and Lisa tell their sons to go play! and they scooter off in opposite directions. Whitney reveals that she is the sole provider for her family. Lisa is worried about her sister. Lisa reveals to Whitney that she wants a closer relationship with God, and Whitney cracks a little bit. Remember when she renounced God in ep 1?

Lisa also complains about Heather to Whitney. If you told me a season ago that—blah blah blah whatever. Alliances change! And they tend to form against you when you act in unkind! The moral of this tale is that seeds planted in malice will always bear sour fruit. And Miss Gay? Does not like the taste!

Later that evening (or later that week? Who knows -- it was at night) Whitney goes to visit Heather at her private residence. There is another great moment of accidental styling that occurs here:

(I don't understand the Bad Weather nickname. I know it's what Heather calls her friendship with Whitney and she probably explained it in a past ep but it went over my head. I would love if somebody could explain it to me. Please get in touch!)

Whitney's episode-long streak of coherent behavior ends almost immediately. It's unclear what her goal is with this encounter, but she starts by enumerating the ways in which she feels Heather hasn't been a friend to her. "I'm just here to be rill." For example: "When Justin was fired," Whitney says, looking away meekly, "like... you didn't call me."

Heather is visibly shocked. "I had no idea."

(BK's Take: I believe her!)

So then Whitney course-corrects and starts speaking of feeling a "disconnect" since their Arizona trip. Heather is like, duh, remember when I threw you across the room? I'm sorry but let's move on. And Whitney is like, well, I'm addressing things now. And I was so supportive of you at your choir auditions!

This sets Heather off. "I'm glad I had an event you could show up for and, like, be a hero, and I'm the asshole that has ignored you for two weeks,"

Whitney throws her head back in exasperation. Heather brings Lisa's name up. Soon the cross-talk becomes incomprehensible. As always, Whitney is attempting to play offense and defense at the same time, and is doing a clumsy job at both. She probes for Heather to acknowledge her lie about Lisa while also claiming that Heather has been intentionally distant. "The fact that you didn't know about Justin," she says, "that right there is the dinger."

That right there is the dinger.

Heather grows tired of this, and does what we all want to do: Leaves the situation. But not before throwing her mic off dramatically! Whitney sulks toward the front door, having accidentally allied herself with sworn enemy Lisa Barlow against good time girl Heather Gay. And that right there is the dinger. Thanks for reading! -BK

<><><>

Gay Imagery

Every week I like to post a screenshot or two of Heather Gay doing something funny. This week, she did nothing funny. I would instead encourage fans and Heather herself to take a good long look at this picture. Notice anything?

*This might not be true. I remember Lisa and Bad Angie having been friends for a long time, at least many years, when she was introduced in season 1 or whatever, but I am not interested in fact checking this information. Please feel free to let me know if I am wrong, even though I think I am right spiritually. I love you!

#rhoslc #real housewives #heather gay #lisa barlow #real housewives of Salt Lake City #that right there is the dinger

6 notes · View notes

storiesbymads · 3 years

Text

GIVE IT UP ( tyson jost . )

You find yourself at your ex’s house party despite the fact that you’ve pretty much convinced him and yourself that you hate him. Apparently, he’s not that fond of you either. At least, that’s what he wants you to think.

warnings: smut, hate sex, unprotected sex

wc: 2.6k

add yourself to my taglist + masterlist

It was shocking of how quickly the sweet boy who once would’ve done anything to see you smile turned into the man before you that managed to get a rise out of you without even directly speaking to you.

Granted, most of that was your fault. All he’d wanted was a break, a few weeks, maybe a month apart to think things over. You’d been the one to suggest a full breakup.

“Tys-“ you stopped yourself. “Tyson.”

His pacing stalled, the hand that had been furiously running through his curls fell to rest on his hip as he turned to face where you were sitting on the couch. The couch you’d helped him pick out when he’d first moved into this apartment. The one he’d first kissed you on three years ago, though it was a bit more beat up now than it had been then. It was a faded blue in color now.

“What,” he halfway snapped. The tone of his voice caused you to flinch at his words, which almost sent Tyson into a deeper downward spiral had he not been so desperate to get through this evening without you killing each other.

“You know this isn’t working,” you said. “Not like it used to.”

“Then why are you fighting with me about taking a few weeks to figure things out,” he sighed before moving to sit on the matching ottoman in front of you.

“Please don’t make me say it out loud,” you said. Your jaw was trembling as you didn’t know how much longer you could keep looking him in the eye without breaking down.

Tyson’s hands were quick to start rubbing his eyes, almost painfully so as the heels of them dug in.

“You don’t mean it,” he whispered.

“Tyson.”

“I still love you,” he sighed.

“We had a great run, yeah?” you smiled sadly at him as you picked yourself up off the couch. “I’ll be back to get my things in the next week or so.”

And that probably would’ve been the end of it had Andre not been your best friend. He was, and he claimed, the best guy in your life before Tyson and he was going to stay that way after Tyson.

Sure, parties were awkward but it was nothing you couldn’t get through without a couple girl friends and some distance. And a handle of pink whitney.

“You’re kidding!” you gasped as your old college roommate gushed about her new boyfriend and their bedroom antics. “There’s no way you let him do that!”

“Long time no see, sunshine,” a familiar brown haired swede said as he pulled you into his side by the hip. You could tell the drink in his hand was far from his first based on the slur of his words and the way the snapback was situated sideways on his head.

“Hey, Dre,” you said before pecking his cheek quickly and sipping on the drink in your own hand. Contrary to your usual party behavior, you were only about half of the way through your first.

“Yeah, sunshine,” you heard Tyson say from behind you. The smile on your face wiped away into a scowl within seconds. “Long time no see.”

You opted to ignore him, continuing your conversation with your roommate, Savannah, as Andre left your side to join the beer pong game in the corner.

“Aw, c’mon. It’s not my fault you’re desperate enough to come to your ex’s house party,” he mocked as he shuffled his way closer to you.

“Aw, it’s not my fault your other eye’s just begging for a matching shiner,” you cooed. You could feel his breath against your pulse point as he leaned in closer.

“Think you have it in you?” he asked, voice grovely as it dropped an octave. Scoffing, you pushed away from him in search of anyone else to talk to. You couldn’t stand the fact that he was still able to jump start your heart rate after all these years, especially after all the things he’s said to you after you’d broken up.

You shouldn’t even be going to this part. You wouldn’t be had Andre not literally dragged you into his car with a promise that you wouldn’t even see Tyson, let alone have to speak to him.

“You haven’t been out in months, sunshine,” he said as he pulled out of your apartment complex. “We miss you.”

“You missed me,” you sighed, pulling your head up from where it was resting against the cool glass of the window.

“The team misses you,” he said, temporarily taking his hand off the wheel to pinch your hip. The team minus Tyson, you thought.

The party itself was fine for a while. You’d practically attached yourself to Andre’s side, not that he was complaining. He was just glad to have you in a social situation again. You were actually having fun for the first time in a while playing flip cup with some of the guys. Tyson had practically slipped your mind, another first.

Until he decided to, rather harshly, drag you away from the table.

“What are you doing here?” he rushed out as he clicked the lock on the bathroom door.

“Dre- Andre invited me,” you stuttered. The party was still going strong outside the room and you could feel the bass through the floor.

“God, I haven’t seen you in months and you’re here because my teammate invited you?” he scoffed. The shock in his eyes had since shifted to something more of disgust.

“We broke up, Tyson,” you said.

“Exactly! We broke up!” he said, throwing his hand up in the air. Your eyes stayed glued to the lock behind him.

“I didn’t come here to see you,” you said, though it came out more like a whimper. You swore you saw something crack in Tyson’s eyes before his resolve went back up.

“That’s rich, even coming from you.”

“God, you’re such a dick, Jost,” you pushed past him, wiping a tear away before it had the chance to fall as you unlocked the bathroom door.

You hated him. You hated him.

Thankfully the kitchen was empty when you found yourself there. You weren’t looking for anything, your cup was still mostly full.

How was Tyson always able to find you in a crowd? Even when you were actively avoiding him like the plague, he somehow managed to sneak up behind you and send your head into a downward spiral.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing thinking so much at a party,” an unfamiliar voice said from beside you, pulling you from your daze.

“I’m not-“ you cut yourself off. “It’s just…”

“Whoa, don’t burst a blood vessel,” he smiled at you. His comment was awkward at best, but the soft look in his eyes made up for it. He was cute.

“Sorry,” you chuckled. “I’m Y/N.”

“Jason,” he responded, clinking your red cups together in a fake toast.

Jason, you learned, was a bartender at the Star Bar in downtown Denver. Though, that was a temporary job as he worked on his masters in biochemistry. You ended up telling him a story about the time you found yourself being escorted out of said Star Bar from dancing on the bar.

“If you’ll excuse me, I really have to go to the ladie’s room,” you said, starting to walk past him in the now crowded kitchen before turning back to face the blond. “Would you mind holding my drink?”

“Sure,” Jason said, even going as far as putting his own drink down so that he could cover the top of yours fully with his hand. Maybe this party hadn’t gone completely to shit.

The line to the bathroom was nonexistent and you’d managed to finish your business in record time. You checked your appearance in the mirror before clicking the lock on the bathroom door and opening it to see the one person you really wished you hadn’t.

He pushed his way through, slamming the door and locking it behind him.

“What are you doing, Jost? Let me out,” you said.

“You really think you can come here and flirt with some random guy in my kitchen?” he scoffed. With every word he took another half step closer to you until your back was pressed against the far wall.

“What do you mean your kitchen?”

“Did Dre not tell you? Can’t believe this is the fourth time you’ve been here and you didn’t even know who’s apartment it was. I think that’s a little rude, if you ask me,” he cooed. Four times; he was counting. He’d made a mental note every time you’d been sitting on his couch and he’d been too fucked up about it to do anything.

His knee pushed your thighs apart as his hands found solace on the wall beside your head. You felt the sudden urge to spit in his face. Or to let him spit in yours.

This was much more possessive than he’d ever acted when you were together. Granted, he hasn’t acted the same way he’d been when you were together in the year and a half you’d been apart.

“Answer me,” he hummed. “It’s rude isn’t it.”

You tilted your head to the side in response only for Tyson’s thigh to press up further so that it was resting against your core. You took the sudden close proximity between the two of you to gauge the changes in his features. Most obviously was the beard he was sporting now, he’d never been able to accomplish more than a patch here or there while you were dating despite his best efforts. His shoulders were more filled out now, too, and his curls looked longer. He looked more… mature, if that was the word for it.

“Answer me,” he tutted. “Or am I gonna have to fuck it out of you?”

“You’re a lot bolder than I remember, Jost,” you gasped. There was a definite wet spot growing in your underwear at the rasp in his tone.

“You’re just as annoying,” he said before one of his hands found your hip. His mouth came crashing against yours an instant later, a rough mess of teeth clanging together as he popped the button on your jean shorts. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m sure I’ll fuck that out of you, too.”

The comment caused a gasp to slip past your lips as he removed his knee so that he could tug your bottoms to your ankles in one fell swoop. His fingers were quick in replacing the delicious pressure against your clit, circling the nub with the pad of his finger.

“Do you still make those pretty little noises you used to make?” he asked, only to pull a whimper out of you not even a second later when he slipped a finger into your hole.

“You’re still a dick,” you moaned as you dropped your head to rest against his shoulder. You bit down on the cotton of his t-shirt to conceal the whimper of emptiness as Tyson slipped his finger out of you so that he could push the band of his sweatpants down just enough for his cock to slip out.

“Yeah? And you’re about to cum all over it.”

The string of profanities that followed from your part were involuntary.

He pushed into you slowly until he was halfway in before snapping his hips forward in one quick motion so that your pelvic bones were pressed together. You hadn’t felt this full since… Well, since him.

“Fucking-“ he hissed. “I forgot how tight you were.”

His eyebrows furrowed as he started thrusting his hips. You would’ve been able to admire it longer had your eyes not rolled into the back of your head. Your hand slipped down between your bodies to rub your clit only to be swatted away and replaced by Tyson’s a moment later.

His name rolled off your tongue like a chant as you felt your orgasm building with each pump of his hips.

“I’m gonna cum, holy shit,” you said.

“That’s right, baby. Cum all over my cock,” he said. The rhythm of his thrusts was getting sloppier by the second and you could tell he was getting close. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. Where do you want it?”

“What?” you asked, head still very hazy from the impending orgasm.

“I can’t cum inside you—shit,” his thrusts slowed. “Where do you want it?”

“I’m on the pill,” you rushed out in hopes that he’d start fucking you again. The thought alone almost had him falling apart.

“Holy shit, ok,” he mumbled before picking up his thrusts once again. It was a step the two of you hadn’t taken before, and he was dying to see his cum drip out of you.

“Fuck, Tys,” the words came out rushed as your high washed over you. Tyson came soon after as ropes of it coated your walls in hot spurts.

Your senses came back to you as you came back down. What the fuck were you doing? Why did you allow yourself to hook up with the ex you were still pretty sure you hated in a bathroom.

“I-I’ve gotta go,” you said, pushing Tyson off, and subsequently out, of you so that you could pull up your shorts and button them.

“Wait, Y/N,” the flustered, blushing Tyson you thought you’d never see again made an appearance as you threw the bathroom door open just as he tucked himself back into his boxers. The fly of his blue jeans was undone as he chased you out of the bathroom, practically begging you to stop as he followed you out the front door.

“Leave me alone, Jost,” you scoffed as you watched him zip his pants out of the corner of your eye.

“There’s no way you’re gonna go back to hating me after that,” he said. You could feel his cum dripping into your panties as he spoke.

“We made our decision last year. We should’ve left it at that,” you shivered in the open exterior of his apartment complex, silently cursing yourself for thinking a jacket would ruin your outfit.

“You’re fucking kidding me, right?” a dry chuckle slipped from his lips. “After all of that? After a year and a half of pretending, you can’t admit it?”

“I wasn’t pretending-“

“Like hell you weren’t. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t regret even mentioning the idea of a break between us. What we had doesn‘t just go away,” he took a step towards you. You could still hear the music from inside his place, though it was fainter now and still half-muffled by the various conversations just past the front door.

“We weren’t working out,” you said, though it came out as more of a squeak.

“You and I both know we could’ve worked on it. We were stupid to let what we had go over nothing,” he said. “I miss you.”

Your resolve was breaking more with every word.

“Jost, what if this doesn’t work?” you asked, allowing him to get close enough to take your hand in his. It was quite the contrast to the way he’d been with you not even ten minutes ago.

“Would you stop calling me that?” his features were screwed tight as he asked. “You only call me that when you’re mad at me.”

“Tyson,” you said, only to be greeted with a knowing look in his brown eyes. “Tys.”

“We’re gonna work out,” he said. “We’re gonna work out because…”

“Because?”

“Because I still love you. And I’m not letting you go again,” his voice had lowered to a whisper and it shook and his forehead was dangerously close to resting against yours. Within the span of an hour, he’d transformed back into the shy boy you’d given your heart to three years ago on his blue couch.

“Ok,” you whispered back, closing the distance and resting your foreheads against each other only for Tyson to bridge the gap completely with a tilted head to plant his lips against your own.

tagged @ptersparkers @annedub @corebore123 @damndunner @kiedhara @watermelon05 @sidscrosbyy @thelionkingpw @besthockeyfics @iwantahockeyhimbo @beauvibaby

#tyson jost #tyson jost imagine #tyson jost smut #tyson jost x reader #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl smut #hockey #hockey imagine #hockey smut

340 notes · View notes

fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

SIRIUS/REMUS PLAYING WITH PUPPIES WHILE ANSWERING FANS QUESTIONS

Please know that if we ever met in person, I would literally lift you off your feet and hug you for suggesting this. My afternoon was filled with adorable puppy videos because of this!

Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove!

“Can I have them?” Remus asked softly, staring at the person behind the camera with big, pleading eyes. “Please?”

“Do the introduction and then we’ll set ‘em loose,” Marlene said.

“Fine. Hey, everyone, welcome back to Lion Pride! I’m Remus Lupin and I’m here today to play with puppies.”

“And answer questions.”

“And answer questions,” he added. “Maybe, like, one or two in between snuggles.”

“You’re going to answer all of them,” Marlene said more firmly.

He rolled his eyes and took the lid off the jar of paper slips. “Can I have the puppies now?”

A door clicked open behind the camera and Remus lit up as four puppies tumbled into frame, racing straight for him. “Hello, babies!” he laughed as a tiny golden retriever jumped on his chest. “Oh, I love you so much. Come here, come here, let me give you kisses.”

“Question number one?” Marlene prompted as he began playing with them and rolling their toys around.

Remus sighed and pulled a question out. “What would I be doing if I didn’t become a hockey player? Physical therapy for su—ope, okay, you can have that one.”

The Irish Setter puppy growled playfully as they played a short game of tug-of-war until the paper tore.

“Oh no, it broke!” Remus exclaimed, giving the pup a scratch behind the ears while it chewed on the leftover scraps. “Yes, that’s all yours now. Next one: what is the best part about playing professional hockey? I get to do interviews like this.” One of the puppies, a medium-sized black one, began chewing on one of the laces of his Converse. “Excuse me—excuse me, young man, that’s my shoelace. Are you chewing it because it’s rainbow? Is this homophobia?”

“Remus.”

“Sorry.” He lifted the puppy into his arms and kissed his head. “Okay, munchkin, what’s next? What’s next? You’re so fucking cute, I just wanna squish you. Um, what’s the most common thing fans say when they meet me?” He laughed and the puppy licked his cheek. “Usually they look at me and go, ‘god, you’re tall’, which surprises people because I’m always around these gigantic guys. Do these dogs have names?”

“If I tell you their names, you’re going to get attached.”

“We have crossed, salted, and burned that bridge, Marley.”

“The one you’re holding is Mercutio, the red one is Juliet, the retriever is Pip, and the fluffy one on your lap is Lucie, after Lucie Manette.”

Remus’ jaw went slack. “They’re named after book characters?” he asked in a small voice.

“Yep.”

“Oh, no.” He reached out and pulled Juliet and Pip into his arms for a moment. “Oh, no, you all have to come home with me now. The next question is…would I ever do drag? Probably not, but I looked hot as fuck in eyeliner, so do with that what you will.”

“Which video was that?”

“It was the fear pong one, which I played with my fiancé and my friends James and Lily!” His voice pitched up as he turned to talk to Mercutio. “I did, buddy! It was so fun! Yes, it was!”

“Remus. Questions.”

“Right. What’s one of my weirdest or funniest fan encounters? There was this one lady, she was like forty-something, and she came up to me while I was at the post office and asks ‘are you Remus Lupin?’ and I said, ‘yes, that’s me’ and she’s like ‘from the Gryffindor Lions?’ and I said yes again and then she went—” He narrowed his eyes and nodded his head slowly. “—‘I knew you were gay. Good for you, kiddo’ and then left. It was the weirdest fucking thing, especially considering I had played, like, one game with the team by that point.”

“Are you serious?” Marlene asked.

“Totally honest. I never saw her again, either.” Juliet put her paws on the front of his Lions hoodie and began licking the edge of his jaw. “Hey, sweet girl, thank you for the kisses. Can I grab another question? No? Okay, we can stay here.”

Pip began yipping and Mercutio wiggled out of Remus’ hold, launching himself at the other dog with a tiny growl.

“Mercutio, no!” Remus gasped, scooting Juliet aside so he could put the two puppies under his arms. His hands were big enough to almost cover their whole bellies. “We’re not here to start fights, you two. Apologize.” They turned their heads to lick his cheeks. “I didn’t mean apologize to me, but okay. You’re so soft and warm, what the hell?”

“Next question?”

“What’s the craziest rumor I’ve heard about myself? A solid group of people thought I asked to be on the team, which isn’t true. I didn’t even know people were considering it until James and Lily’s wedding. Coach wanted it to be a surprise while he cleared it with the organization.” Remus shook his head and slowly petted Lucie as she napped on his thigh. “Is there a celebrity I’ve met that left me starstruck? Ha! Yes. There was a fundraiser a few months ago and Sam Neill was there, which I didn’t know until I turned around and he was about two feet away.”

“What did you do?”

Remus laughed and turned faintly pink. “Um, I made a sort of squeaking noise and he kinda chuckled, which was mortifying in and of itself. He goes, ‘hi, I’m Sam’ and I nodded because duh, he’s Sam fucking Neill, and then I mumbled something about Jurassic Park and he smiled and said, ‘son, you’re blocking the water’ and I just about died on the spot.”

“Did anyone see you?”

“Sirius was standing next to me the entire time and silently laughing his ass off. I saw them talking later, and when were about to drive home he hands me this napkin and it has Sam Neill’s autograph on it.”

“He didn’t,” Marlene gasped.

Remus nodded. “He did.”

“That’s the smoothest move I’ve ever heard of.”

“It was incredible.” Juliet waddled closer and nudged a red ball out from under Remus’ knee, which he picked up and tossed before taking out another question. “Do I appreciate when fans come up to me in public or is it annoying? Oh, it’s never annoying. It’s a little weird if I’m eating lunch somewhere or running errands and someone tries to sneak a picture, though. I love all the fans and it’s super fun talking to everyone, so please just come over and say hello instead of failing to be sneaky while I’ve got pizza grease on my face.”

“Even if you’re on a date?”

Remus snorted. “Okay, well, use some common sense. Pip—babycakes, stop trying to eat the questions. There we go.” He settled the puppy into his lap and rolled the ball for Juliet again. “In a movie about my life, who would I want to play me and Sirius?” He paused and looked at the camera. “I would want us to play ourselves, but only because neither of us can act and it would be so fucking funny to make the absolute worst movie.”

“Come on,” Marlene groaned.

“I’m being a hundred percent honest right now! I think it would be hilarious. We’d be terrible.” Juliet pawed at his arm insistently until he grabbed the ball, but she wouldn’t let it go and they ended up playing tug-of-war despite the fact that she had no traction on the floor and kept sliding around. “Aren’t you a feisty one, sweet girl! What is the most memorable moment of my life that I want to cherish forever? This. Right here, right now.”

“Really?”

“I have two dogs on my lap, one under my arm, and the other slobbering all over my hand. This is the best possible place to be. Wait, hang on a second.” Remus carefully lifted Lucie up and laid down, settling her on his abdomen as the other three clambered over to flop on him. “Oh, yeah, this is the peak of my entire life.”

“You’re not going to say your engagement? Maybe the day you started playing for the Lions?”

“Nope. The engagement was incredible and one of my favorite memories for sure, but I was shaking in my skates.”

“Just read the next question.”

“Okay! What’s my go-to karaoke song?” He hummed for a moment, then laughed as Lucie scooted up to rest her head under his chin. “I think it’s probably ‘I Wanna Dance with Somebody’ by Whitney Houston. Lily and I did a duet of that a year or so ago, and it rocked.”

Pip began gnawing on the cuff of his sweatshirt. “Pip,” Marlene scolded; her foot appeared in frame until Remus waved her off with a smile.

“It’s okay, he can chew if he wants to. It’s an old sweater anyway, and it’s not even mine!” He scratched behind Pip’s ears. “No, it’s not, peach-a-keen! You can go nuts with that as long as you’re cozy. What is…my favorite behind-the-scenes Lions moment? Our groupchat, no contest.”

“Does it have the whole team?”

“Most of us, yeah. You have to earn your spot.” Remus looked over at the camera and Lucie put her head on his neck. “Looks like I’ve been banned from turning my head now, huh?”

“Are you comfortable?”

“Marley, there are very few things that would make me happier than I am right now. I’m being slowly crushed by puppies and I get to cuddle them for free.” He reached blindly into the question jar. “This is a two-part question. Do I prefer big dogs or small dogs, and how is Hattie doing? I love all dogs, but I think I prefer big ones because they’re always so much fun, and I don’t feel like I’m accidentally going to break them if I move wrong. Hattie’s doing well! She’s almost eighty pounds and she’s at home with Sirius right now, probably getting snuggled within an inch of her fuzzy little life.”

“That’s the dream right there.”

“Tell me about it. Alright, sorry ladies and gents, but I have to sit up to get to the questions.” All four puppies made noises of protest when he started sitting up and he sighed, eyebrows pitching upward. “I know, I know, it’s really hard. Here, how about we…” Remus carefully gathered them until he held all four against his chest; their tiny faces looked out over his forearms and he placed a kiss on each of their heads. “Much better.”

“Can you get to the jar?”

It took a bit of maneuvering, but he managed to reach in. “Do you want to read it?” he asked Mercutio as the puppy tried to bite the slip. “No? Okay. What is my favorite thing about playing on the same team as my fiancé? That is an excellent question. My favorite thing is that we finally have the same schedule, so we can build in time to hang out more easily. It was hard to do that when we were doing different things.”

Pip yawned and the entire camera crew ‘awww’ed; Remus made a soft noise and nuzzled his floppy ear.

“I adore you,” he murmured. “I really do. Last question: What is my advice to those who want to follow their dreams? Oh, jeez.”

“You can take a minute to think.”

Remus crossed his legs and lifted his knees up so he could hug all the puppies at once while still looking at the camera. “The only reason I got big and strong is so that I can hold four puppies at once. Just thought people should know that. Uh, my advice to those who want to follow their dreams is to persevere. I never in a million years thought that I would get to play on a professional hockey team, but I worked really hard to overcome my injury and stay connected to the sport because I love it. If there’s something you love, don’t be afraid to hold on to it.”

“Wise words,” Marlene remarked. “Do you want to tell the fans where they can find the puppies?”

“At my house,” Remus joked. “But if that doesn’t work, they are up for adoption at Friendly Paws Animal Shelter, which is just south of downtown Gryffindor and has tons of adorable friends like these guys. Can I call Sirius real quick?”

“Sure,” Marlene laughed.

Remus gingerly lowered Lucie into his lap and pulled his phone out of his pocket, dialing a quick number before putting it on speakerphone and setting it down to pick her up again. “Re?” Sirius sounded confused. “Aren’t you still with Marlene?”

“Yeah.”

“…did something happen?”

“Nope, all good. Can we get another dog?”

There was a beat of silence on the other end of the line. “Marlene, what did you do?”

“It’s just an interview!” she called.

“What kind of interview?”

“Baby, they gave me puppies,” Remus said gleefully, burying his face in Lucie’s fluff for a moment. “Like, really good puppies.”

A long-suffering sigh came through the phone. “How many are you holding?” Remus hesitated. “Sweetheart, how many dogs are currently in your arms?”

“Four.”

“Holy shit, Marlene! You gave him four dogs?!”

“They named them, too,” Remus added. “Pip, Juliet, Lucie Manette, and Mercutio. Baby, they named him Mercutio.”

“This was a recipe for disaster.” Despite his protests, Sirius sounded intrigued. “How old are they?”

Remus glanced up at Marlene. “They’re all six to eight months old,” she said.

Sirius blew out a slow breath. “So they’re babies.”

“They’re all up for adoption.”

“We have Hattie already.” Sirius was wavering. “But…she might possibly need a friend. Maybe.”

“You already love these dogs and you haven’t even seen them,” Remus said with a grin.

“The names are perfect! What was I supposed to do?”

“I’m going to sign the video off and then call you back, okay?”

“Okay. Don’t let go of the dogs until I get there, please.”

“Wasn’t planning on it. Love you!”

“Love you, too.”

Once the call ended, Remus faced the camera with a smile. Juliet and Pip had already fallen asleep. “Thanks for tuning in, Lions! Be sure to like and subscribe for more content. Endless thanks to Marlene McKinnon for allowing me to spend an hour holding tiny dogs. Have a great day!”

246 notes · View notes

thefancyspin · 3 years

Note

16 and 20 for ballum please? 🥰💖

[misunderstanding/mutual pining, all for you sweet gemma <3)

Ben used to think he had pretty good intuition. Shaking a hand or stealing a glance or moving through a packed crowd at The Albert. He’d meet eyes with someone, and smile, and he’d just know, he’d feel it thrum in his toes. They wanted him too.

Apparently Callum Highway is an exception to the rule.

“Look at ‘im,” Ben grumbles drunkenly into his pint glass, sitting shoulder to shoulder with Jay in The Vic. Callum is here with his best friend Whitney, and even though Callum’s gay and not interested in her, Ben hates her with a fiery passion. She’s always laughing with him and touching him and getting to do all the things Ben wants to. He hates her. “I mean, who gave him the right to look so good in that uniform?”

Jay groans. “Give it a rest, mate.”

“What? It’s true. Bad enough he’s a bloody ambo, saving people's lives and being all humble about it. He’s also tall, with those shoulders, and that hair. I mean, have you ever touched it, Jay, is it as soft as it looks?”

“Why in the bloody hell would I touch his hair?”

“I donno, he worked for you for a bit.”

Jay scoffs, shaking his head. “Oh, right, I’d say, well done with the dead body, Callum, now can I run me fingers through your luscious locks.”

“Yeah,” Ben gives him a shrug. “What’s wrong with that?”

Honestly, the problem isn’t just that Callum’s perfect. It’s that he shook Ben’s hand, and met his eye, and Ben felt it. Not just in his toes, but also in his bones, and also beating viciously in his chest. It was like love at first sight, if Ben actually believed in that stuff. He knew.

But then Ben asked him if he wanted to grab a drink, or get food, or come over and watch a movie, and it was always the same answer - no. Not a mean, get over yourself no, but a, that’s really kind of you but I just don’t like you that way I’m terribly sorry, I hope you don’t think badly of me, no. Always no.

Callum was like something out of a Jane Austen novel. Polite and apologetic and the kind of man you take home to meet your mum.

Which was why it didn’t make sense that Ben wanted him so badly. But Christ, he did.

“You really need to get over it,” Jay says unhelpfully. “He ain't interested.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Ben looks up miserably again, but this time when he does he catches Callum looking back. Callum gives him a soft smile, his cheeks pinking up, before ducking his head to look away. Jesus. If Ben has to endure this torture, he’s going to have to have a word with Callum about giving off the wrong signals.

“I’m gonna break the seal. Get me another, would ya?”

Ben knows he should probably just go home and give up on this day. It’s never a good time when he’s a sad drunk, feeling sorry for himself and contemplating Adele on karaoke. As he grabs some towel to dry his hands, the bathroom door swings open to reveal Callum. Ben curses to himself. It’s always worse when he’s this close up.

“Hi, Ben,” he says gently, giving Ben an awkward little wave. He’s an absolute dork, and Ben wants to climb him like a tree.

“Hey.” Ben shoves his hands in his pockets. “Good night?”

“Not bad. I’m knackered, mostly, just got off a twelve hour shift.”

“Wow, surprised you’re still standing.”

“You and me both.”

Ben gives him a sympathetic smile (what he hopes looks sympathetic and not constipated) and moves past him to escape, but then Callum’s calling him back. “Uh, sorry, I didn’t ask how you’re going.”

“Oh, I’m fine. Good.”

“I haven’t seen you around much.”

That’s because I try and avoid all the places you go so I don’t have to look at your ridiculous face, Ben doesn’t say. “Just busy with work.”

“Yeah, I know what ya mean. Well, I’ll let ya get back to ya drink, sorry, didn’t mean to keep you.”

Ben goes to reach for the door but then changes his mind and swings around again. He manages to stop Callum before he closes the stall door. “Cal, can I just say. I think you’re a great guy. And any bloke would be lucky to have you as a friend. But … but I can’t be that right now. I know that’s selfish, I’m sorry, I just need some time to get over you.”

Callum just stares at him. “What?”

“I’m only telling ya this ‘cause I know you’re just being genuine, smiling at me and making conversation. You’re a nice guy, I know you’re not playing with me feelings.”

“Feelings?”

“So … so can I just have some space for now while I move on?”

“Ben…” Callum says a little roughly, like he’s having trouble talking. He takes a few steps closer in, a hand in the air like he’s trying to reach for something. Ben wishes it were him. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about all the times I asked you out, for coffee, or a movie,” Ben says slowly, not sure why he has to say it out loud. Why he has to explain it.

“You were asking me out?”

“Yes!”

“But I thought you were seeing someone?”

“Who?”

“I donno. Whit said she heard you talking to Jay about some guy, and when she asked you just said it was a bloke you knew at work or something.”

Ben’s heart is hammering in his chest, his head pulsing. He doesn’t know what’s going on right now, but he does know that Callum hasn’t pushed way. Callum hasn’t said no. “I - I must have been talking about you.”

“Me?”

“Yes! I’ve wanted you since I got back to town, since you made that stupid joke about corpses while you were looking absolutely gorgeous in that suit, Christ,”

Ben’s not sure why he’s so surprised when Callum grabs him with two huge hands around his neck and kisses him. Probably because this is Callum Highway, and where Callum’s concerned, Ben has no common sense whatsoever.

It's an amazing kiss, somehow better than Ben ever imagined; strong and pressing and making Ben groan into it as he digs hands into Callum's hips to anchor. He's never wanted to hold onto something more in his whole life.

“But … I asked you out…” Ben says dumbly when the kiss breaks, blinking up at Callum.

He laughs, kissing Ben again, soft and fleeting. “I thought you was being a mate. And I didn’t want to be just mates either.”

"Because you like me."

"So, so much."

#ben x callum #ballum #eastenders #fic prompts #fluff prompts #fanfics

42 notes · View notes

cjsinkythoughts · 3 years

Text

Erased From the Stars: Chapter 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 4254

Series Warnings: Toxic Relationships, Cheating, Physical Abuse, Underage Drinking, Drug Use (marijuana), Motor Vehicle Accident, Cursing

Chapter Warnings: Cursing, Mentions of Sex, Cocky Bucky, Nervous Bucky, Bucky Bucky

A/N: I actually have ideas for this story, so I’m cranking it out! I definitely wasn’t expecting to post today, but here we are! This chapter has a lot of dialogue and some of Reader’s thoughts, but not much action, yet. We’re kind of still getting in the roll of things, it still being the first week of college and all that. We do get to meet Bucky, though! Next chapter we’ll meet mostly everyone else, and there will be more things happening other than classes and work. I kinda feel like I’m rushing these first few chapters, so I’m sorry about that, but it’s mostly introductions and setting up the story and I’m the type of person who likes writing the climax and only the climax. So this is steady growth for me.

I do want to point out the series warnings, just in case! I don’t want anyone feeling uncomfortable or being triggered while reading this so please take those seriously as it will happen later on in the story! Thank you!

Once again, this isn’t beta’d so please excuse any mistakes! Thank you for reading and please enjoy!

Erased From the Stars Masterlist

cjsinkythoughts’ Masterlist

You woke up in a much better mood on Tuesday, having gotten more sleep than the previous night, especially considering how tired you were when you got home past midnight from working at Shield. You crashed as soon as your head hit the pillow.

You took your time getting ready and eating breakfast, saying bye to Christine and the kids, leaving first that time since your Public Speaking class started before Kayla’s preschool did.

Which you were late to.

Of course as soon as you let your guard down, thinking you’d be fine since your first day was fine, you weren’t fine.

Fortunately, you were only a few minutes late and didn’t miss anything, since today would be another day of going over rules and course requirements for the two new classes you had.

Public Speaking was the worst. You’re older - and only - sister, Kimberly, convinced you to take the class after saying it was one of her favorites. Of course, you forgot that you and Kim were very different people. For starting at 9:05, it was too early of a class, especially when the whole point was, you know, public speaking. You hadn’t done anything yet, but one glance at the plans your professor had for the semester and you were dreading it already.

Your next class was a US History lecture, which started fifteen minutes after Public Speaking. You were again late because you severely underestimated how far the buildings were and your professor let you out a bit later than you anticipated.

You practically threw all your stuff into your bag the moment he dismissed you and sprinted out.

Arriving, you tried slipping in as silently as possible, but the door slammed shut, rather loudly, making you cringe. You felt yourself heat up as several pairs of eyes snapped towards you, but luckily the professor, Coulson you remembered, was just gathering papers and hadn’t started yet. Ignoring your peers - none of whom you knew and you weren’t sure if that made it worse or not - you shuffled over to the nearest empty seat a few rows down and to the right. You were surprised and extremely grateful to find it was an aisle seat.

Pulling out your laptop, you huffed when it wouldn’t turn on. You hadn’t used it in your previous class, meaning it was dead before, but you could’ve sworn you plugged it in last night. Whatever. You were fine with pen and paper.

“Aw shit.” You resisted the urge to smack your head on the table as you dug through your bag. Seriously?! You forgot to pack a pen?! That couldn’t have been your only pen, right?!

This is why you were anxious. Next morning, you swore you’d get up early and triple check to make sure you had everything.

You quietly threw your bag to the ground and slumped in your seat, your arms crossed. That meant you couldn’t even doodle! You had to sit there for over an hour and listen to this guy talk about another syllabus. Joy.

Suddenly, something hit you in the back of your head. You rubbed where it hit and looked down at your feet, eyebrows knitting together at the scrunched up ball of paper sitting there. “Psst.” Another hit to the head made you whip around, glaring at the culprit.

“What?” You hissed before faltering. Damn. Now that was one hell of a specimen.

Steel blue eyes crinkled at the corner as pink lips pulled up into an entertained grin, pearly whites on display. Sharp jawline covered with light scruff. Fluffy chestnut hair styled with the perfect amount of gel fell a little past his ears, with a single pesky strand falling in his eyes. The white shirt he was wearing was loose with a low collar, a leather jacket thrown over it. You could see the combat boots from underneath the table. He was a pretty boy, yeah, but you hung out with (*cough cough* dated) enough guys dressed like him in high school to know his game.

“Need a pen?” He offered in a whisper, holding up the said object.

“Uhm…yes?”

He smirked, leaning forwards in his chair, closer to you. “I’ll let you have it on one condition.” You raised an eyebrow, giving him a pointed look. “Just a name, babygirl. Yours, specifically.”

You rolled your eyes, glancing around the room to see if you were disturbing anybody. Not seeing anyone paying attention to you two, you turned back to him. “Y/N.”

“Bucky.” He introduced himself, reaching over to shake your hand. You took it, a bit hesitant, blinking when you felt something fall into your palm once he pulled back. The pen.

“I, uh, thanks.”

He winked at you, leaning back in his chair, hands linked behind his head. “No problem, doll.”

You turned back to the lecture, holding in your scoff at his pet name, hating the fact that it nearly made you smile. He was definitely a fuckboy and you told yourself before college that you wouldn’t play around with them anymore.

So you tuned him out of your mind for the rest of the lecture and, thank God, you had to rush out of class once it ended because you had to work in half an hour, not even letting the blue eyed pretty boy say a word in your direction.

You worked for the rest of the day, Russo’s for lunch, a few hours break to look over school stuff and have dinner with your family, before Shield from 9 to 1. It was fine. Long, but nothing you weren’t used to already. You really enjoyed both your jobs and you got lucky with your bosses.

Joe and Anthony were brothers who took over Russo’s for their parents. The pizzeria had been in their family for generations, and they gladly took on the tradition. They had kids of their own and dealt with their school, so they were very understanding - almost parental - to you.

Phillips had started Shield after retiring from the Army, wanting to settle down with a place to drink, smoke, and play poker with his buddies. He was stern, but that was to be expected. He always told you, “you can take the man out of the Army, but you can’t take the Army out of the man.” Despite him being strict, though, he was reasonable, and had taken a liken to you since the moment you stepped foot in the bar.

And not only did you like your jobs, the money wasn’t too bad either.

But, despite that, you were still human, and having two back-to-back college classes and then working two jobs for over eight hours was draining.

You made sure everything was ready for the next day before you left for Shield, that way you could just get home, change, and sleep. Tuesday might’ve been a rough starting day, but you’d learn for Thursday, and Wednesday’s morning was definitely better.

Peter even texted you his coffee order, telling you he’d probably be late. You chuckled to yourself when you got the text at breakfast. You totally called it.

In his defense, he really was running late, and you could tell just by looking at him. One shoe untied, hair messy like he just rolled out of bed, sweater haphazardly thrown on like it was an afterthought, which it probably was.

“You,” he puffed, sinking into his chair and taking the coffee cup you held out. “Are my savior and I’ll love you until the end of time.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “And you, my friend, are so much more chaotic than I thought. What’d you do? Stay up until three last night?”

He shrugged, shooting you an innocent smile while his cheeks turned red. “I got caught up binge watching Clone Wars.”

“Of course you did. Here’s the notes you missed so far.”

He gave you an adoring smile. “Did I tell you I love you?”

“Yeah, yeah. Sap. Hurry and copy them down so I don’t miss anything.”

********************

It was when you were checking your things Wednesday night when you realized you had an extra pen. It took you a moment to remember the blue eyed pretty boy from Coulson’s History lecture, but when you did you groaned.

Your dating record in high school was pretty bad. Not that you would really call it dating. But Whitney was right when she said it was you wanting attention. It wasn’t easy being the middle of seven. But you dealt with it and now that you were across the country from your family - who you loved but Jesus Christ did you need a break - you didn’t need to act out to seek attention.

You were an adult. Meaning you wouldn’t goof off with guys like that anymore. Meaning you didn’t even want to talk to guys like that anymore.

Meaning you were severely regretting taking his stupid pen.

Maybe he wouldn’t notice if you didn’t give it back. Yeah. Maybe you could just ignore him and he won’t even remember that he let you borrow it.

Those were your hopes as you walked into your US History lecture, taking the seat you had on Tuesday.

“On time today? Glad to see we’re learning.” And there go your hopes, crashing straight into the floor, shattering into millions of tiny pieces. Going for ‘not interested’, you quirked an eyebrow, twisting your head as a bag landed on the table next to your open laptop, a body falling into the seat beside you. The leather jacket was replaced with a denim one, his black button up tighter around his chest than Tuesday’s white t-shirt. “And you charged your computer! Very nice, doll.”

You shrugged, going back to your doodling. “Time management’s always been a bit of an issue for me.”

“Ah. Gotchu, gotchu. I’ve got a pal like that too. A couple of them, actually.” He chuckled. “Is that why you high-tailed outta here Tuesday?”

“I’ve got work right after this class.” You answered shortly.

He leaned his elbow on the table, his legs spread as he turned fully to, a slight smirk on his face. “I haven’t seen you ‘round campus before. You new here? A freshman? You don’t look like it.”

You hummed. “Maybe. It’s a big campus.”

“Which you don’t live on.”

Frowning at the question that he said more like a statement, you moved your head back to him. “I don’t?”

He shook his head, setting his cheek in his palm. “Nope. I know everyone who lives on campus.”

A bit distracted due to Professor Coulson just walking in and announcing the lesson for the day, you hummed and shut your notebook and set up a page on your laptop for notes. “Everyone, huh?”

He nodded with a click of his tongue. “I get around.”

There it was. “Oh? A party animal?”

“I wouldn’t say that. My friends and I are just outgoing. We enjoy life.”

“Enjoy life or enjoy getting into girl’s pants?”

He hissed, shaking his hand like he burned it. “Ouch, doll. That stung. For your information, quite a few people in my group are goin’ steady. And we’re of mixed genders and sexualities. It’s not always girls’ pants.”

You raised an eyebrow, turning to him while still trying to pay attention. “For you or your group.”

“Does it matter?” He shrugged. “Would it bother you if I did fuck guys? ‘Cause I have experimented and it’s not half bad.”

“Nope.” You popped the ‘p’, shaking your head. “You do you, pal. Or…do whoever you want to. Now if you don’t mind, I’m trying to-”

He nodded. “Right, right. Yeah. Sorry. Just…listen. I think we got off on the wrong foot. I’m not gonna force you to do anything, you know. Yeah, sure, I’ve seen a few beds around campus, but I’ve got female friends who I don’t sleep with. What if I just wanna be friends with you, huh doll?”

“Just friends?”

“Yup.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Okay. How many of these so-called female friends you don’t sleep with single?”

He chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “The list gets smaller, but yeah.”

“How about single straight female friends?”

He paused at that, eyebrows scrunched up. After a moment you clicked your tongue with a slight smirk, facing your computer and typing the notes Coulson was writing on the projector. “Hold on, hold on. Yes, I’ve got a few of them. Listen, babygirl, you’re making this a lot harder than it needs to be.”

You scoffed. “Don’t call me ‘babygirl’ and we’ll see where that gets you.”

“Okay, okay. That’s fair. What? Don’t you believe that guys and girls can be friends with nothing between ‘em?”

“Yeah, I do. Just not guys like you.”

He frowned, eyes narrowing. “Well that’s not fair. You don’t even know me!”

“Mister Barnes.” Bucky winced at the teacher’s annoyed shout, before throwing Coulson a dashing grin.

“Hey, Phil! How was your summer, man? You still goin’ out with that cellist?”

The professor raised his eyebrows, unamused. “Is there something you’d like to share with the class?”

“Oh yeah! Thanks for the reminder, Phil!” Bucky stood up and cleared his throat. “Yo! First football game of the season is next Friday! It’s gonna be a blast! Watch out for number 41! Handsome devil’s gonna score the winning touchdown! Avengers assemble, am I right?!”

Coulson gave him an unamused look as the room cheered, making you laugh behind your hand. Bucky fell back into his seat, shooting you a wink as Coulson calmed down the room.

“You’re a football player?”

“Fullback, yes ma’am. Co-captain of the team, in fact.” He smugly leaned his seat onto the back two legs, setting his feet up on the desk.

Unbelievable. Why were you always attracted to these idiots? A player in both senses of the word. “There it is.”

He blinked, his chair falling forwards with a ‘thud’ that made Coulson shot him a warning glare. Bucky smiled innocently, before shifting his chair so he was turned towards you again, the smile turning upside down. “There what is?”

“That cocky, conceited air you fill the room with. Attention is what you live for. I should’ve guessed you were a jock too. I’m surprised you’re not wearing a letterman jacket or something just to make sure everyone knows who you are.”

His frown deepened. “Look, doll. I dunno what you think you know about me, or what you’ve heard-”

“I’ve never heard about you before you lent me a pen Tuesday. Which I appreciate and here it is back, by the way. But I know your type. I’ve been down that road. So excuse me for trying not to make the same mistake twice.”

He stared at the pen you set down by his bag, before his gaze flitted back to you, but you wouldn’t meet those pretty eyes of his. “Fine. Sue me for trying to get to know the new girl.”

“This is a mainly freshman class. Half the girls in here are new.”

“Yeah, but they’re chattering away with the posse they’ve already discovered.” He nodded over across the room. Your eyes scanned the lecture hall to find that he was right. Most girls were giggling and whispering to each other, no doubt freshman straight from high school. The others were most likely maturing sophomores. “And, hey, if you want extra reassurance I’m not trying to get you in my bed; I don’t fuck with freshman. Nothing against you or anything, just…straight outta high school and all that? Not really my jam.”

You eyed him, before shrugging and looking down to make sure you got the notes Coulson was starting to talk about. “Yeah, well, too bad I’m not straight out of high school, then.”

He tilted his head, an eyebrow raising in curiosity. “So you’re not a freshman. I didn’t think you were.”

“No, I am. But I took a year break between high school and college. But if you didn’t think I was a freshman, that reassurance doesn’t really work, now does it.” He opened his mouth to defend himself, but you continued, not wanting excuses. “What about you? You’re definitely not a freshman.”

“Nah. I’m a junior. I studied abroad for a semester last year and there were mishaps my freshman year, so I’ve got a few classes to make up. My friend had this class last year, so I just took all his notes. Coulson never changes his lectures. Pretty sure he doesn’t even change the tests.” You hummed, pretending you were barely listening when you really heard every word loud and clear. Bucky huffed, reaching out to grab your wrist gently, making you stop typing and look up to meet his eyes. “Can we start over? Please. I don’t know what type of guys you used to know or whatever and, yeah, I’ll admit I started the conversation like an idiot, but I promise I’m not that bad.”

Pursing your lips, you scanned his features, taking in the pleading eyes and the pouty lips. Clearing your throat, you took your hands off the keyboard, straightened a bit, and turned to him, holding out your hand, your full name falling from your lips.

The beam he gave you had you severely doubting your initial thoughts about him, his larger, calloused hand taking your eagerly. “James Barnes. Everyone calls me Bucky.”

You nodded, before starting to type again. “What are you studying?”

“Mechanical engineering.”

You paused, not expecting that answer. Maybe you were wrong - majorly wrong. “Really?”

“Yeah. I dunno. Technology’s always interested me and I like fixing cars and stuff; I work at an auto shop actually. I dunno what I’m gonna do with it yet, but it feels like a step in the right direction, ya know?”

“I’m afraid not.” You shook your head. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

He chuckled, drumming his fingers against the table. “That’s alright, doll. I don’t think anyone does. They just think they do.”

“That’s…very true, actually.”

He grinned, running a hand through his hair again, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “I told you: I’m not an idiot all the time. I swear.” That made you laugh.

Bucky talked to you throughout the rest of the class, never going above a whisper as he babbled about his other classes and how one of his friends, Sam, tripped down the stairs that morning. You were almost annoyed at him, but he was a very good conversationalist and he wasn’t distracting you too badly. There weren’t any awkward pauses while he stumbled around for something to talk about and if he wasn’t talking, it was a comfortable silence filled with Coulson’s voice, pen scribbling on paper, and the clicking of computer keys. He never pushed you for responses, either, only asking a couple questions, like where you worked and what other classes you had.

“Sorry if I’m bothering you.” He said a few minutes before class was over. “I’m just bored.”

“No. You’re fine.” Honestly, besides a few flirty comments and that pet name ‘doll’ popping up here and there, he wasn’t as bad as you were thinking.

He went quiet for a moment before clearing his throat, almost nervously. Your forehead creased as you snuck a glance at him. He licked his lips, a hand combing through his locks, scratching the back of his head. You wondered why he did that so often.

“So, uh, there’s this cabin in the woods by the lake about half an hour away…” His eyes widened at the weird look you shot him. “Oh fuck, that sounds so bad. No, no. It’s not - I’m not a serial killer or anything. My friend owns it. Well, technically his dad does, but it’s his. Anyways, he always throws a party the first weekend of a new semester. On Saturday. Noon to midnight. If you’d wanna come.”

You quirked an eyebrow, packing up your stuff as Coulson dismissed class early. “You’re asking me to go to your friend’s cabin in the woods-?”

He shook his head with a little laugh. “It sounds so sketchy. I promise it’s legit, though. Honest. You can ask anyone. It’s Tony Stark’s party. He holds one every-”

“You’re friends with Tony Stark?”

He nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Yeah. We’re in the same circle. I know how it sounds, but-”

“I’m working.” You cut him off, finding it amusing how he rambled. Who knew a fuckboy could get so nervous about asking a girl to a party. “But if you give me the address I’ll see if I can get some time off.”

“That’d be awesome. Yeah, yeah. Here.” He quickly grabbed the post-it note you handed to him and scribbled the address down. “It’d be really cool if you could make it.”

“I’ll try. Cross my heart.” You smiled, taking the paper from him. “I do have to go, though-”

“Oh right. Yeah. Work. I’ll see you this weekend, then. Maybe.” He grinned.

You bit your lip, nodding. “Maybe.”

As he started walking out, you looked down to grab your bag, the pen left on the table catching your attention. “Hey!” You called after him, making him turn around, walking backwards with that grin still on his lips. You lifted the writing utensil to show him. “Your pen!”

He shook his head. “Keep it! I don’t take notes in this class anyways!” He shot you a wink, before spinning on his heel, his hands in his pockets, whistling some random tune, without a care in the world.

**********************

“There she is! So?! How’s school been?! I wanna know!”

You grinned at Whitney as she bounced in, looking at you excitedly while going to wash her hands. “You’re working early today. It’s only 3.”

She shrugged. “They wanted me in before dinner rush tonight. Don’t dodge the question!”

“It’s been fine. I’ve met a couple people, doodled a few things, ignored syllabus talk - the usual.”

She sniggered, moving her eyebrows. “Any cute guys so far?” You thought back to your History lecture and Bucky, who confused the hell out of you. Whitney’s squeal pulled you out of your thoughts. “That’s a yes! Tell me about him immediately!”

“It’s not a ‘yes’. There’s nothing to tell.”

“But he is hot, right?”

You rolled your eyes, but your lips pulled up at the corners. “He’s…very easy on the eyes.”

Whitney gave an excited squeak, quickly drying her hands and putting on gloves before sliding up to you. “So? Tell me all about him.”

“Nothing to tell.”

“Bull.” She called out. “What’s his name?”

You huffed, focusing on the pizza you were making. “Bucky.”

She tried it out on her tongue before nodding. “Cute, cute. How old is he?”

“He’s a junior, so I’m guessing 20. Maybe 21 if his birthday was in the past week.”

Whitney hounded on you for every detail of your conversation, which you told her with some exception, leaving out the pen and some of the random stuff he told you. “So he’s a fuckboy?”

“Oh yeah. No doubt.”

“But he’s a charming fuckboy?”

“Mhmm.”

“And he’s not a dick?”

“So far.”

“So…he’s your type.”

You scoffed, giving her a look. “I don’t have a ‘type’.”

She gave you a bemused expression back. “Honey, it’s not a secret you like the charismatic guys that every girl swoons over. You just don’t swoon over them and that’s what makes you different.”

You scowled. “I don’t swoon over them because they don’t deserve my effort. And no. I don’t have a thing for them. I just…tend to get their attention more than other guys.”

“Because you don’t swoon over them.”

“Whitney-”

“Okay, okay. What happened next?”

You shrugged. “Nothing. He just sorta…talked the entire class. He did invite me to a party on Saturday though-”

“Oh my God! You have to go! College parties are the best! You’ll have so much fun!” She stopped to give you a serious look, pointing a finger towards you. “You’re going, right?”

“I dunno. Maybe. I’ve got to ask Phillips if I can get time off and I-I dunno if I even want to go.”

Whitney groaned, throwing her hands in the air and letting her head fall back. “This is the first party of your college life! There shouldn’t be any doubt!”

“Apparently Tony Stark is the one throwing it-”

“Are you fucking - you can’t not go!”

You snickered, Whitney’s persistence amusing you. “Again. It depends on Phillips. We’ll see. I promise.”

“At least tell me you got this guy’s number.”

“Nope.”

Whitney glared at you. “You are the absolute worst person to try getting drama out of, you know that? You’re not interested at all in this guy?”

You shrugged, turning to throw the pizza in. “Maybe. I wanna try out this whole friend thing first. Tommy’s the first real guy friend I’ve had since middle school and that’s mostly because he’s gay and we barely even talk outside work. I’ve never just…let myself take a break from dating before.”

A sigh came from the other girl, who reluctantly nodded. “That’s good, actually. Take a mental break. I respect that. But please, for the love of God, please try to have fun.”

You smirked, nodding. “I’ve told you, Whit. I know how to have fun. Don’t worry; if I do go to that party, I’ll have enough for both of us.”

“Yes! I have to live college through you now, so it’s your responsibility!”

You mockingly saluted. “I won’t let you down, babe.”

64 notes · View notes

stillchaoticlogic · 4 years

Text

Applin Pie: Chapter 2

Summary: Things are hard when you start your own bakery in the heart of Hammerlocke. Good thing your knight in shining armor is none other than Raihan the Gym Leader. You are smitten... Too bad you don't really think you're his type, especially when you see the beautiful and powerful women that surround him.

Good thing he likes you just the way you are.

Pairing: Raihan x Reader

Chapter 1

Chapter 2: Tranquil-Tea Interrupted

The tunnel is dark, the sound of thousands of people piling into the stadium fills your ears. All you can smell is the distinct scent of popcorn and funnel cakes. Suddenly, lights assault your senses as the tunnel opens up to the biggest arena you’ve ever seen. Your eyes widen at the sight and you can’t help the rush of excitement. An attendant directs you to your seat and after some shuffling, you sit down. You release Tart, Strudel, and Spook, knowing these three would enjoy the match as they watched the ghosts and dragons battle it out.

“First time going to one of Raihan’s matches?” questions a voice to your left.

“Oh? Is it that obvious?” you ask slightly embarrassed ducking your head a little.

“Well, you’re going to want this,” she pulls out a poncho and hands it to you, “You can have that one, I always carry an extra just in case!”

“But… we’re inside…?” You ask as you tilt your head to the side.

She laughs lightly at you, “Raihan’s weather strategy doesn’t care about that! Trust me! Once it starts raining or he kicks up a sandstorm you’ll be glad you have that thing. Don’t get me wrong! I love his style! He’s super cool! It's just best to be prepared.”

“Oh… I see… Thank you!” you say grateful for her kindness as you put on the poncho, noticing for the first time many others wearing one as well. Several are dragon-themed or modeled after one of his pokemon. You notice several of Flygon and Goodra and another white one you can’t put your finger on.

“The names’ Whitney, by the way,” she says, holding out her hand for a shake.

You take it happily and introduce yourself.

“Your Pokémon are cute! It’s so cool you have both an Appletun and Flapple!”

“Oh! Thank you! They are super sweet and they are excited about the match! They don’t battle a whole lot, but they always have fun when they do.”

“So cute! Did you see the Flapple and Appletun on his Pokegram!?”

“Umm… Yeah, I did! Super cute!”

Your conversation is cut off as the stadium lights dim and the announcer comes over the intercom. You hear the crowd go wild before everyone calms down to listen to the announcer.

There are a few battles from well-known trainers from

the area and you have a great time watching the battles.

“And now it’s time for the battle you’ve all been waiting for!”

“The Silent Boy of Mystery, Allister!”

You watch as a young boy walks out onto the pitch wearing a white mask and swaying back and forth.

“And The Dragon Tamer, Raihan!”

Raihan walks onto the field with confidence waving at the crowd. He pauses briefly to take a selfie before he keeps going. You feel the heat creep up your neck as you almost feel his eyes on you. He can’t possibly have picked you out from the crowd right? Right?

The battle starts and you can’t help yelling for your new friend as he sends out a Sanaconda in order to whip up a sand storm. You squeal as you clutch the poncho closer to your form squeaking as your Pokémon dive under the plastic to take cover from the onslaught of sand.

“Told you!” Laughs Whitney from beside you.

“Yeah! Thanks!” You tell over the storm your voice almost lost among the chaos.

The battle continues with Raihan’s Flygon making his debut. You let out a squeal of excitement as Flygon flies low over the crowd causing everyone in the vicinity to let out a cheer. You giggle as you watch the puffin monster of a dragon show off a little before he’s back to the battle. Allister’s Treverant ends up being a worthy opponent but stands no match against the dragon.

You watch the battle in amazement giggling, laughing, and squealing at the weather shifts as well as Raihan’s antics. You aren’t surprised he has such a following, the man really knows how to work a crowd. You aren’t surprised when he wins the battle. Even Allister’s Gengar couldn’t defeat his Duraludon. You had gasped in surprise when the pokemon Dynamaxed and practically turned into a skyscraper. As the crowd goes wild for Raihan, he stands on the pitch for a few moments allowing fans to get pictures before he turns to head back to the locker room. You notice him talking to his Rotom phone and a moment later you feel a buzz in your pocket as you pull your phone out.

“Come to the locker room, the staff knows about you so don’t worry about being stopped!”

“Hey!” exclaims Whitney over the sound of the crowd getting up to head out of the stadium, “We should meet up again sometime! Maybe watch some battles? My friends aren’t really into battling so I go by myself a lot.” She looks away avoiding your eyes. “I hope that’s not weird?”

“No! Not at all! I actually just moved here a few months ago and I haven’t really gotten a chance to make any friends, so I would love the company…”

“Oh?! Cool! Why did you move here? Do you like it?”

“I opened up my own bakery down the street and yes I do very much!”

“Wait… bakery?” She gazes at your dragon pair before realization dawns on her. “Those are the pokemon Raihan took pictures with! He went into your bakery!”

“Uhh… Yeah… He did…” you say nervously as you wring your hands.

“So cool! I’ve never gotten to meet him, but he seems cool!”

“He is! The only reason my shop has any business right now is because of that post. He’s been very helpful since I opened…”

“Well, I’ll have to stop by! I was going to anyway, but now I have even more of a reason.”

Your pocket buzzed again, “You comin’?”

“Ahh sorry! I’m meeting someone after the match and they are wondering where I am!”

“No problem! Here’s my number, you can text me when you get a chance!” She says as she sends her contact to you automatically through the phone connection.

“Thank you! I’ll see you around!” you yell over the crowd as you head off through the stadium. You aren’t sure where the locker rooms are so you ask the staff. After you tell the man you are talking to that Raihan said to come meet him and he confirms with said gym leader, he leads you through the stadium to the locker room.

“There you are!” Raihan exclaims as he gets up and comes towards you, his arms out. He pulls you into a brief hug which you shyly return.

“What did you think of the match?” he asks as he pulls away.

“It was amazing! You’ve definitely made a fan out of me,” you say with excitement as you smile up at him.

“I knew you couldn’t resist!”

You laugh before you pull your backpack off your back and pull out a bag, “By the way, I made you and your Pokemon some after match treats!”

Raihan’s eyes light up as he gazes down at the bag of treats. He calls out his team and they all thrill when Raihan starts handing out the baked goods to them. Flygon is beside you in a minute happily nuzzling you in thanks, you giggle as you pet the large dragon happily.

Raihan lets out a happy sigh as he takes a big bite of the cake in his hand, “How did you know this is exactly what I needed?”

“Just a lucky guess,” you say with a smile as you gaze up at him.

He nods happily as he finishes it off and goes in for another one obviously content with the treats and his win.

“How do you feel about having a movie night tonight? I figured we could do dinner and snacks? Watch a good movie, just the two of us?” he asks as he glances at you out of the corner of his eye as he takes another big bite.

“Sounds like a fun night. I could use a break after this week.”

“Rough week?” he asks with a concerned frown.

“No, it was just busy. I like how busy it was, but I’m tired.”

“I gotcha…” he says as he lazily stretches.

The two of you head out of the locker room and towards the entrance. You hear a chorus of yells and squeals directed at Raihan. A group of girls comes running up to him.

“Raihan! What a great match!” Exclaims a blonde trainer.

“He always does great!” A brunette flips her hair over her shoulder and sends a condescending frown to everyone around her.

“You should go get dinner with us!” Exclaims a third. She has vibrant pink hair that she twirls around her finger as she giggles up at the Dragon Tamer.

You are intimidated. They are all so pretty and after seeing the trainer belts they wear low on their hips and their fashionable clothes you wonder if they know him personally.

“Thanks for the invitation ladies, but I’ve already got plans tonight,” he says as he drapes an arm lazily around your shoulders and begins to lead you away.

“Oh come on Rai! We could go clubbing tonight! I know how much fun you had last time!” Says the brunette with a smirk as she grabs onto his arm.

He glances over his shoulder before his hand comes up to carefully remove hers from his arm.

“Thanks. But I’ve got plans, maybe next time,” His smile is a little harder as he answers her.

You're not the clubbing sort, mostly you bake, drink homemade teas, and read books. You offhandedly wonder what Raihan sees in you, but you put the thought from your head. Raihan invited you to a night of watching movies and dinner after all, and you have every intention of enjoying it.

The two of you decide on take out since Raihan is tired from the battle and you’re tired from baking all week. He chooses a nice Italian restaurant and the two of you put in your order to go. While you wait for the food to be ready you head to a small convenience store down the street and stock up on snacks.

“Any movies you want to watch?” Raihan asks as he regards new releases on his phone.

You screw your mouth up while making Raihan laugh a little at how cute he thinks you look as you think.

“I don’t know…” you say after a moment, “anything you want to see?”

“There is a new horror movie out, are you okay with that?” He says glancing at you with a sly smile.

“Umm...sure!”

“Cool! I’ll go ahead and rent it.”

You both make your way back to the restaurant where you pick up your food. Despite your protest, Raihan pays for your meal.

“Come on! Stop pouting! I owe you from the pastries you gave me,” he pleas as he bumps you hip with his own.

“You don’t owe me for those! That was a gift!”

“Well, maybe I just wanted to buy your dinner. Did that ever occur to you?” He asks casually as he lazily drapes his arm around your shoulder pulling you close to him. You stumble into him at the unexpected contact still pouting up at him.

“Aww don’t be like that, Princess! I just want to spoil you! You’ve had a hard week!”

You relent and smile softly up at the Dragon Tamer.

“That’s why? Really?”

“Of course! I just want to take care of you since you’ve spoiled me all week. Is that so bad?”

“No… I suppose not… I just feel bad! That restaurant was so expensive!”

“Trust me, princess… the royalty check from today’s match didn’t leave me hurting for cash. Let me spoil you tonight alright? Plus we need to celebrate your bakery opening! It’s been a week right?”

You laugh at his logic, “Yeah it has been a week but you don’t have to do all that…” you say shyly as you glance up at him through your lashes.

“Well I want to,” He says with finality to his voice.

You both end up at Raihan’s with the movie he chose playing as you cuddle up on his couch. The food is delicious and you savor every bite of it. His arm is lazily draped on the couch behind you as you both settle in to watch the movie. You're both sharing a blanket against the chill of the night and he takes this opportunity to scoot a little closer to you. As the movie wears on and it gets scarier his arm falls from the couch to your shoulders as he tucks you in next to him.

“You okay?” He asks softly his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. A shiver goes down your spine from the contact and he chuckles as he draws you closer to him.

“I’m fine…” you murmur back as you glance at him catching his eyes as you do so.

He presses a soft kiss to your hair as he pulls you happily against him. The thought that he did this all on purpose floats across your mind but the thought is gone instantly as you hide your face in his chest. The creature on the screen roaring and causing a jolt of fear through your body. You miss the smile on Raihan’s face as he practically pulls you into his lap to comfort you. You do end up in his lap while he wraps both arms around you and rests his chin on the top of your head. Your hands are resting on his forearms as you lean back into him.

When the movie is over Raihan pulls out his phone and places it before you both as he scrolls through the choices. You can tell he has no intention of letting you go as he points out a comedy in order to lift the mood.

You end up fighting your way out of his arms anyway, ignoring his whine of how cold it is now.

“I’m going to the bathroom before this starts, I’ll be right back!” You say with a laugh as you head towards the bathroom.

When you enter the living room once more you hear Raihan in the kitchen.

“Want anything?!” Floats through the house as you settle back down.

“Snaaaanks!!!” You yell childishly back and your ears are greeted with his laugh.

He comes back into the room a few moments later laden down with a variety of snacks and drinks you both picked out from the store earlier. You’re surprised when he sits down and pulls you back into his lap. You don’t protest only giggle as you both get comfortable once again. Raihan starts the movie and the two of you spend the rest of the night laughing with one another and sharing snacks.

The night ends with Raihan walking you to your door even though it’s right next door to his claiming ‘There might be a Beware hiding in the bushes!’ and pulling you in for a tight hug that lasts just longer than it needed to.

The next morning you open a little later than you do on the days during the week. You spend the morning thinking about the night before with Raihan and how sweet he was. You realize you are falling for the handsome gym leader and you aren’t sure that you care.

Your daydreaming is interrupted by one of your customers walking back up to the counter.

“There is something wrong with my tea,” he declares sourly.

“Oh! I’m so sorry! What seems to be the problem?”

“It tastes awful is the problem,” he grumbles at you.

“Oh, well let me make you a fresh one! Would you like a cookie on the house?”

This seems to appease the grumpy man and he picks out a cookie while you remake his tea. As the day wears on several more of your customers bring their tea back complaining about the taste. You’re stumped though. It’s not a specific kind of tea, in fact, it seems to happen at random.

You frown as another customer walks away with another cup of tea and watch in relief as they take a sip of tea and seem to enjoy it. It’s not ten minutes later that they are back up at the counter with furrowed brows explaining the sudden bitter taste of the tea. You remake the tea with an apology and send her a pastry for her trouble. She smiles happily at the treat tells you how much she enjoys the tea before she prances out the door.

You close up shop that evening feeling confused and exhausted by the day’s events. You just can’t figure out what is going on. How can your tea sour in the cups? They seemed to start out just fine. They aren’t steeping them too long are they? Even if they are why is this suddenly a problem?

You glance up at the knock on your door and see Raihan waving to be let in.

“How did your day go?” he asks pulling you into a hug.

“Odd…”

“Odd? How was it odd?” he asks with a furrowed brow.

“People kept complaining about their tea souring… I’m just so confused! I make the tea blends myself! I test each batch personally. I just don’t get what’s going on!”

Raihan frowns as he listens to you recount what happened today.

“Hmm… well, that’s odd… maybe it was just a fluke?”

“Maybe… It seemed to happen randomly so I feel like something else is going on, I just don’t know what…”

“I tell you what, let’s eat dinner and then if you want we can see if we can figure out what happened?”

“Okay…” you relent.

“I was thinking stir fry tonight, you game?”

You give him a small smile, “Yeah that sounds good!”

After dinner two of you spend the evening trying out your teas and checking the batches. You’re stumped when you find absolutely nothing wrong.

“You know I thought I was a coffee drinker, but really like your tea!” Raihan says after his taking a sip of the fourth tea you gave him to try.

“Welcome to the dark side Rai, we have black tea.”

He laughs at you, “You’re such a dork!”

“A delightful dork!”

“Oh don’t worry Princess, I love dorks.”

You glance up at him and he winks at you with a lazy smirk on his face. You roll your eyes at his antics but smile nonetheless suddenly shy.

“Honestly, I don’t think anything is wrong… it all tastes great,” he says after a few minutes absentmindedly swirling the remaining tea in his cup.

You huff as you regard the shop for a few minutes, “I don’t know what’s going on…”

“You should head to bed, you have to be up early tomorrow and it’s getting late. If it’s still happening tomorrow we will investigate further okay?” he asks gently as he rests his hands on your arms.

“Okay… you’re right it is getting late…” you mutter in disappointment.

He pulls you into another hug and you melt against him as you hug him back.

“See you tomorrow, Princess,” Raihan says as he pulls away.

You wave as he heads out the door and sigh as you gaze around your little shop wondering what could possibly be going on.

Notes: I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! I honestly didn't realize it had taken so long to update! Then again it's been sitting half-finished for a while. Things are weird and hard right now and I hope everyone is safe and healthy and happy. Leave me love and tell me your thoughts! How did you like the date /not-date with Raihan? Everything you thought it would be?

#raihan #raihan fanfiction #pokemon raihan #raihan x reader #gym leader raihan #pokemon raihan x reader #pokemon #pokemon fanfiction #pokemon scenarios #pokemon sword and shield #pokemon swsh #pokemon sword and shield imagines

600 notes · View notes

raysofcrosby · 2 years

Note

Following Barstool on instagram means that you support them. You can't follow them and not support them. "Barely" interacting w the instagram account means you still interact with them, which boosts their numbers and supports them. You can't excuse that at all. It's really shallow. Drinking their alcohol is even worse because you're monetarily supporting them, and financial endorsement contributes more to the advancement of their toxic masculinity, misogyny, homophobia, and racism than any instagram like. I'm not trying to shame you, I'm just saying your arguments in your last post are fallacious.

very much well aware of how my response on my last one came and i’m sorry for it. i knew i shouldn’t have replied to it until i was more awake and not suffering from dying in the gym, but i went along with it anyway.

i unfollowed them as soon as i replied to the original ask this morning and there’s literally nothing i can do about the half bottle of pink whitney I have left cause i’m not about to dump vodka down the drain (edit: but i won’t buy more after it’s done.)

don’t worry, i understand you’re not trying to shame me and i understand how literally there was no argument in my reply! i appreciate you calling me out on it.

#anon #answered

2 notes · View notes

shidouryusm · 3 years

Note

Ok let's do this the right way lol

Congrats! Beautiful wedding, beautiful couple! 1. Here's my dress <3

2. If I'm comfortable I'm a big dancer, but if I'm a little newer I'll still dance, but I'll snack and observe more. I like to stick by my date, or if I'm not near him I'll keep an eye on him just incase he needs to get out of a conversation. I really love weddings, they're so fun and its amazing to witness all the love!!

3. Male please!

4. For upbeat its Whitney Houston's "I wanna dance with somebody." if it's slower it's Nat King Cole's "The Very Thought Of You"

5. Introverted!

6. I'd like to meet him there :) see what happens haha

P.S. Sorry that picture is so huge! Thanks for doing this :)

YOUR MATCH FOR THE EVENING IS...

OIKAWA TOORU

The golden lights strings fell everywhere neatly creating a golden hue down to the open venue. You were done dancing for the 3rd time already with everyone. The afternoon was transitioning to evening, the air had a drunk feeling on it. Tired of finally prancing around happily with other bridesmaids, you decided to sit down for a while. You grabbed a drink and went outside where there were more seats placed around the sandy area. You took off your heels and sank your feet into the warm sand.

Feeling the breeze and the soft crashing of waves round the shore reached your ears, which you couldn’t hear prior due to the cacophony of the wedding.

“What makes you come here rather than inside?”

You turned around to see the wavy chocolate brown hair with similar eyes looking down in your eyes. He had a side smirk plastered on his face which was kinda mischievous. Maybe its the vibe of the wedding, the intoxicated air or your own slightly reckless self, you thought of messing around a bit. Not to mention the man in front of you was exceptionally handsome.

“well, well, isn't this Oikawa Tooru, famous Argentinian player?” you said that with a smirk. His smirk seemed to grow bigger.

“So you do know me.”

“Don't make it sound like everyone doesn’t. Its a surprise seeing you alone without the prying fangirl eyes”

His eyes glinted at that. You returned his smirk and energy back. You aren't gonna lie, you yourself felt kind of surprised at your daring self.

“Mind if I join you, pretty?’‘ He joined in anyway besides you.

“woah, pretty, huh? Seems like you have to get in anyways so what can I say?” You jokingly shrugged. He faltered for a while.

“Hey, hey, if you are uncomfortable then I’ll take another seat, its fine.” he said a little worried.

“Really, Oikawa Tooru? Doesn’t sound like its you.” you replied. He felt relieved at your answer. He shifted a bit closer.

“So what are you doing here at your rivals wedding?” you carried on with your conversation.

He laughed a bit.

“He’s my rival, not enemy though.” You laugh back. Your phone buzzed as messages from your friends popped up, asking where you at. You replied them saying you’ll be back in a bit. He was watching you as you were working through your phone. The light pink dress seemed radiant on you.

“Stop staring tooru” you said laughing. He felt this was safe as your tone wasn’t snappy or restrictive and you said ‘Tooru’. He could just jump there out of ecstasy.

“Can’t. You look too pretty.” he replies back.

“Well, you don't look bad yourself, Tooru’. Again. His insides were already doing the conga. He had seen you for a long time since he arrived at the wedding, midday. He had been talking to his old mates, Hanamaki, Matsukawa, Iwaizumi, when his eyes caught you. You were snacking on a pasty with other bridesmaids and laughing. He could swore he felt fluttering in his stomach. Hanamaki caught his eyes and laughed. Iwa noticed that and said,

“Well, you could go and give a shot talking to her. But I feel she’s a bit closed and you have a high shot messing that up”.

You snapped your fingers in front of him, making him lose his train of thoughts. He smiled back and you guys continued conversation. For two people, meeting each other for the first time, you guys got off pretty well. Every now and then it was banter exchanged between you two.

Eventually you guys went inside to the usual chaos of wedding. Oikawa talked to many of his acquaintances, but you guys stuck with each other, often getting Oikawa out of sticky situation. The evening regressed to a memorable night where songs after songs were played by. The familiar tone of Whitney Houston hits your ear and you sway to the music.

Oikawa notices that, and slowly with a big leap of confidence, holds your hand. This was too cute to resist. You turn your head towards him and lock your hand in his. He most probably let out the biggest grin.

He crouches down to your height and whispers,

“I kinda wanna tap my feet onto this song there, mind if you join?”

“Sure thing” you said as you both laugh and join the dance floor.

“soo, you busy the day after?’ he asks tentatively.

“technically no.” you said.

“So, I’ll take you on somewhere, pretty.”

“Its a first date then”

“I thought this was a first date, pretty”

You couldn't help but laugh at this cuteness.

HEADCANNONS FOR YOU TWO:

All the while, he stayed in Japan, you guys had tonnes of dates. He proposed to you on the 9th date.

You guys facetime each other to sleep. And when you visited him in Argentina, manz scooped you up from the ground

He loves booping your nose whenever you guys have a playful argument. And say something romantic in Spanish.

#sam talks #sam and bokutos wedding #🥂🍷#Oikawa matches your introverted cute energy.#Uwu for coming into my wedding

6 notes · View notes

deans-baby-momma · 3 years

Text

Wounded Hearts 10

August 1998 Rebecca’s POV

“Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday dear Whitney,, Happy Birthday to you.”

I join in singing as I carry the cake from the kitchen to the dining room of my parent’s house where Mom, Dad and Whitney are waiting patiently for me.

Today is Whitney’s third birthday. I have survived three years of being a single mother and Whitney has survived being raised by a single mom who is also going to community college and working.

I had gotten a job at a local diner to work when they needed me. So far,hankfully, it hasn’t interfered with my schooling or her parenting.

Another new revelation is that I now have a boyfriend. Well, we haven’t made it official yet but one of my fellow classmates asked me out and I accepted, but only after I made sure that he understood that I have a daughter and she always comes first. Always.

Brett had understood perfectly and even included Whitney on a few of our dates, like taking the little girl to the park or when the weather ruined our outdoor plans, he took Whitney and I to the local aquarium and we walked around showing the green-eyed girl all the fish and other aquatic life.

That is exactly why Brett is in attendance for Whitney’s birthday party and is standing beside the highchair as I hand her daughter a slice of cake and a small scoop of ice cream. The two adults smile at each other as Whitney squeals and slaps her hands right in the food.

I swore off love after everything that happened almost two years ago and vowed to never get put into a situation like that again; to never let a boy hurt me the way Dean Winchester had. But then Brett came into my life and I could tell my walls were slowly but surely crumbling.

The one thing Brett has going for him is he is the exact opposite of Dean Winchester. Where Dean was tall, Brett isn’t. Sure he is taller than me but not by much. Where Dean was cocky and sure of himself, Brett is meek and modest. He also is always concerned about my wellbeing and if I’m having a good time.

“Are you okay Becky?” he asks as I’m washing up the dishes after the birthday dinner and dessert. “You seem distant. Is it something I’ve done?”

“What? No. Absolutely not,” I tell him as I finish drying up the last of the dishes and put them away. “This day has simply been the best. You are amazing. You are a perfect fit to our little family.”

Brett, of course, blushes at the compliment. I just cannot get over how this man, this pure and utterly flawless man can be so modest and shy and blushes at flattery and praise. I dry my hands off and reach for his hand.

“B, if I were upset with anything you do or have done, I would tell you okay. I-” I catch myself when I realize what I am about to say. He and I have only been going out for a few months. I can’t feel that way for him, yet. Can I?

THREE MONTHS LATER

It’s been almost two years. Two years since I was in this spot; ready to take a relationship to the next level. Well, last time it wasn’t exactly a relationship but I thought that’s where it was headed. Until he took off during the middle of the day and I never heard from him again.

Sure, I was bitter and resented the very thought of Dean but once I looked into the eyes of my daughter, the daughter he had given me, my tune changed. Yea, if I were to run into Dean I’d give him a mouthful and probably wish him pain but he gave me the one thing I can’t imagine my life without now.

Looking into Whitney’s eyes-Dean’s eyes- daily had softened my hatred for the man, ahem, boy that took my virginity and ran. Now when I think of him, I don’t wish for his death. I silently thank him for what he did give me. A beautiful loving little girl that is a joy to my life.

Now here I am considering opening my heart up to another guy; and hoping and praying he takes what I am willing to give him and not stomp on it.

I look in the mirror at my reflection one last time. Tonight is the night I am going to tell Brett I am ready. Ready to take the next step, ready to become more intimate with him. For the past few weeks, we have not gone past the kissing and making out phase. Brett has been a complete gentleman and kept his hands either on my shoulders, in mine or in his lap; never pushing the boundaries and trying to cop a feel which is a big plus in my book.

I straighten my shirt, making sure the lingerie I’m wearing underneath it isn’t visible before I head out the door to tell my parents and daughter goodbye.

Brett and I walk hand in hand down the street after a fabulous dinner at Calacino’s.

“I’m stuffed,” I say. “The food is always so good there.”

“Yea it is,” Brett agrees as he looks down at me. We stop in front of the fountain and he leans down, brushing his lips against mine. Knowing what I plan to have happen later, the barely there kiss makes my stomach flip.

“Wanna go back to mine?” he asks, husky and breathy.

“Yea,” I answer, smiling outwardly and internally because I know where this is heading and I am ready. I think I’m ready. Nope, I’m ready for this to happen. I am ready to give myself to this man.

When Brett unlocks and opens his door, he holds it for me to enter first. I smile as I pass him, letting my hand graze across his chest.

Knowing that we are finally alone and no one can overhear, I turn to him.

“Brett. I really, really like you. Like, liiiike you and I think you like me. So I’m thinking that-” I pause as I lift my shirt over my head, revealing the pink lacy bralette I’m wearing. “-it’s time we…..”

I shut up as Brett’s eyes glance down and then widen before he turns away from me. What the hell?!

“Becky, um, can you please put your shirt back on. I think we should talk.”

Deflated and feeling rejected, I do as he asks and tell him when he can look. “Do you not want me? Is it because I have a kid? I thought we were on the same page.” I ramble out as he takes my hand and leads me to the sofa.

“Becky, I don’t know how to say this. I’m what you would call ACE. I’m asexual. I have no desire to become sexually active with you or anyone.”

“Am I that repulsive,” I ask, the tears burning the back of my eyelids.

“God no! Becky, I find you extremely beautiful, gorgeous even, but I’m just not attracted to you in that way. I like what we have now, the intimacy and the closeness. I like how I feel like I can be myself around you and you won’t judge. I thought you knew. I’m so sorry.”

Unbeknownst to me, while Brett is explaining and apologizing the tears start flowing. He reaches up to wipe my cheek but I pull away.

All this time, I thought he was being polite and honorable and not forcing himself on me when in all reality, he just wasn’t into me.

I stand up and walk to the door.

“Becky, please don’t leave.”

I never answer him as I open the door and walk out.

Dammit That’s it. No more guys. Two times I’ve been burned. I’m never putting my heart on the line again. From now on, it’s just me and my daughter. Whitney is my priority and if I never have sex again, so be it.

So-fucking-be-it!

@tftumblin @spnbaby-67 @markofdean79 @lostinaseaoffictionalbliss @travelingriversideblues-x @akshi8278 @keymology @hoboal87 @squirrelnotsam @natura1phenomenon @drakelover78 @larajadeschmidt13 @blacktithe7 @atc74 @sea040561 @delightfullykrispypeach @vicariouslythruspn @sandlee44 @mogaruke @deanwanddamons @supraveng @deandreamernp @lyarr24

#dean winchester #john winchester #sam winchester #rebecca quentin #wounded hearts #past haunts sequel #smut #fluff #angst #supernatural #supernatura fanfic #spn fanfiction

12 notes · View notes

mahalkitajohnnysuh · 4 years

Text

JN (Part I)

And we’re back with more Johnny content here! Of course, he’s the apple of my eye, my ultimate current bias, the love of my life, and the list go on. But I do get tempted by other good-looking K-pop men sometimes...

Here’s a GIF of him looking adorable with some noticeable blush. The color reminds me of Glossier Cloud Paint in Storm, but of course, I could be wrong. Drop that blush shade, dude!

Mahal ko kayong lahat! :)

–––

Summary: These pieces were inspired by a prompt list by @neoculturedrabbles. Since you guys know how I feel about Johnny, please expect that the next installments will feature two prompts in it too.

POV: 2nd person since I wrote this late last year. I know; you’re getting tired of reading that over and over.

Word count: 1,800 words

–––

Prompt #1: “Shut up!”

“Make me!”

Now that you and Johnny were a couple, that didn’t stop him from annoying you to tears.

You were working on an article at the dining table when you heard him sing Whitney Houston’s ‘I Will Always Love You’ off-key. He was at the kitchen, cooking his trademark omelets for breakfast.

“John, please!” You shrieked, turning your head towards the kitchen. “Can you pipe it down? I’m trying to work here!”

He responded by continuing the song, his voice more off-key than before.

You rolled your eyes and went back to your laptop, huffing in annoyance.

A few minutes later, Johnny emerged from the kitchen with your breakfast, and he was now singing Heart’s ‘Alone’ in the same irritating manner.

“Love, what’s up with you? Why are you annoying me? Do you know I’m about to have my period soon?” You said when he placed a plate of omelet and rice in front of you.

“I’m not doing anything unusual,” he said, this time placing a cup of coffee beside your breakfast, “I’m just being myself, you know?” He winked at you and patted your shoulder.

“But baby, you know when I’m in front of my laptop, I’m most likely working,” you grumbled, now taking the cup of coffee to sip on it.

“I can never tell,” he sat on the seat across from you, “Maybe you’re just reading hentai or playing your porn games,” he wiggled his eyebrows for effect, and you almost spit your coffee.

You just flipped him the bird and took another sip of the coffee he made. As always, he got your preferred taste perfectly – strong and sweet, just like he is.

“How dare you, Suh Youngho! I don’t do that anymore!”

“Yes, you do! You fell asleep with your Incognito window on a hentai comic the other day!”

That was the last straw, and you went to his side and pinched his cheeks. “You silly boy! Stop taunting me!” You squeaked, pinching his cheeks harder while he laughed at your flushed and annoyed face.

“No, I’m not going to stop teasing you! It’s also my job to annoy you since your sisters are out!” He said in between your pinching.

“Johnnyyyyy!” Your hands snaked their way around his neck, and you felt tears brimming at the corners of your eyes. “Shut up!”

“Make me!” He challenged, his face serious.

Now that was something you didn’t expect – he had his poker face on, and he seemed calm. You let go of your hands around his neck and settled them on his shoulders.

But when he gave you his trademark wink, you felt miffed again. You decided to play his game and pecked him on the lips instead.

You weren’t able to get away from him since he locked you in his embrace and deepened the kiss.

As your tongues clashed against each other, you gasped when you felt something poking beneath you. Ugh, not again! He was turned on with what you did, and you tasted like coffee, of course.

You let go when you felt very bothered by his boner and pinched his nose this time.

“You big freak,” you huffed, raising your middle finger at him again, “You’re such a tease, you know?”

“I know, baby,” Johnny had the guts to lick his lips in front of you, “and I’m going to taunt you every day with all my loving.”

“Can we have breakfast now?” You got your spoon and fork and started digging into your meal.

“Sure thing, baby,” He said while he moved his plate and drink beside you. When he was done, he sat on the chair to your left and fed you a spoonful of rice and omelet. “Say ‘ah,’” he instructed in a flirty tone, which you obeyed.

“Don’t be so grumpy, my baby princess,” he cooed, wiping the excess rice on the top of your lip.

“But I’m about to have my period! My chest feels heavier, and I feel more bloated,” you whined.

“Even if your boobs don’t get bigger and you don’t look plumper, you are always a grumpy girl,” it was now his turn to pinch your cheek.

You crossed your arms over your chest and looked away from him. Since his hand was still on your chin, he tilted it again toward his direction.

“If you promise me that you won’t be grumpy anymore, I’ll stop teasing you.”

You sighed in defeat and nodded. “Okay, I’ll try my best.”

“No buts! You should do it. You look the most beautiful when you smile.”

You pinched his arm in embarrassment and went back to eating with your head down. “You are such a flirt, love. But thank you.”

“You’re welcome, baby.” He kissed the side of your head, and both of you ate in silence after.

///

Prompt #12: “You’re a pain in the ass, you know?”

“Yeah, but I’m your pain the ass.”

Your head was throbbing in pain because a) you lack sleep, and b) Johnny was being such a pain in the ass to deal with.

As you searched the cabinet for some Advil, you saw a pair of long arms reach over you and grabbed a large pink pillbox.

You turned around to see it was the source of your headache, grinning sheepishly at you. “I assume you need Advil?”

You nodded in response, silently grabbing the pillbox from him. You went to the dining table where a glass of water was waiting for you and opened the box to get your much-needed medicine.

You felt Johnny’s eyes on you as you swallowed the pill and drank water. You closed your eyes for a bit, savoring its bitter taste in your mouth.

But then, you remembered all the things he did during the previous week that got on your nerves.

He hid your strawberry-flavored Greek yogurt from the fridge just when you were craving for it.

He placed your usual mug in the highest cupboard the day after he was in charge of doing the dishes. You had to climb up the sink just so you can reach it, and he laughed at your attempt to grab it the first time you discovered it was up there.

He woke you up by replacing your alarm with his voice recording remixed with EDM beats. He laughed again when he saw your grumpy reaction, your hair sticking all over the place as you chased him around the house with your pillow.

He used your favorite tote bag (which you waited for ages to be restocked!) when he went grocery shopping all by himself, ruining it in the process. Now it was under his care, and you didn’t know if he has finished mending it yet.

But the most annoying thing that he did was when he tickled you to tears when you didn’t wake him up when he needed to be up early for a schedule. Although he seemed annoyed at first, he was also in tears from laughter as he saw you writhe in his touch.

You let out a huge groan before lying on the couch. “This headache sucks,” you said, curling up on the sofa.

“You need some rest, baby,” you heard Johnny say, who was now standing in front of you. He wore a basketball jersey and jogging pants, which was his usual home attire.

But as always, you were distracted with his big and meaty guns. You grabbed the pillow at your foot and covered your face in it so you couldn’t see his towering figure over you.

“I’m resting right now. Please,” you looked at him briefly, “stop annoying me. You’re one of the reasons why my head is throbbing right now,” you covered your face with the pillow again.

“Oh, but why me? I have been nothing but good to you!” You felt an additional weight at the end of the sofa, which meant that he sat down beside you.

“But you kept on annoying me by hiding my food, ruining my stuff, and most of all, you almost tickled me to death!” You threw the pillow at him, which he caught. He held it in front of him and looked at you with puppy eyes.

“But Essie! You know that’s one of the ways to show that I love you!” He whined while making cute faces at you.

“Johnny, there are times that I appreciate it, and there are times that I do not,” you grumbled, now sitting up on the couch. “You’re a pain in the ass, you know?”

“Yeah, but I’m your pain in the ass,” he responded smoothly, running one of his hands through his hair.

“Ugh, Suh Youngho!” You groaned, lying back on the couch again. As soon as your back hit the sofa, you were flustered to see him on top of you with a Cheshire cat grin on his face.

“But you’re so cute when you’re grumpy!” He said playfully before his hands went to your sides and tickled you until you were in tears again.

“I’ll get you for this, John!” You said in between wheezing and kicking.

The tall guy snickered, but then he looked at you with concern when he noticed that your tears didn’t stop falling. He stopped tickling you and wiped your tears away. “Sorry, baby,” he whispered, now kissing your forehead.

You shut your eyes for the nth time today, processing this intimate moment you got yourself into. He was too close, and you could feel his breath against your forehead. Your body felt warm from head to toe, and his body felt that way as well.

But come to think of it, your head stopped pounding. You opened your eyes and saw that he gave you the sweetest smile before kissing your temple.

“Do you feel better now?”

“Surprisingly, yes. I feel much better now,” you gently pushed him away from you as you sat up once more. “But I think I should still get some rest.”

“That you do need, baby. Come,” he held your hand and led you to your room. “I’ll tuck you in.”

“No, John! I’m fine. You don’t have to do that for me,” you mumbled, looking away from him as he squeezed the hand he held.

“I insist. I want to make it up to you for being a pain in the ass.”

“But you’ll always be even if you do sweet shit like this, you know?”

“Yeah, I do. But still, please? Can I tuck my surly baby in bed?” He pleaded, blinking his eyelashes cutely at you.

“Ugh, fine. I request for hair brushing and thigh tapping too, please.”

“Anything for my dear Essie,” he said before carrying you into your bedroom bridal-style.

–––

FIN

42 notes · View notes

douxie-casperan · 4 years

Note

💫!!

[Makes vague hand waving motions because I’ve been working on this for several hours now and it’s Zouxie as all heck.]

I look to you - Whitney Houston

Nothing to do, but lift my head I look to you And when all my strength is gone In you I can be strong I look to you And when melodies are gone In you I hear a song I look to you

Despite dutifully yelling to announce her arrival to Douxie's apartment after swinging the door wide, Zoe got no immediate response from the wizard who had said he'd be here when she texted earlier to ask if she could stop by and harass him about borrowing a few bits from the shop again. It's not that unusual admittedly, having to just nip out for something or simply getting engrossed with whatever he was doing was pretty normal but given his natural habit of being a charmer always out to put the best foot forward it seemed to embarrass him whenever he got caught out being a bad host. Probably a good thing she didn't kick the door in mind, mighta set the wards off anyway and that'd left two of them freaking out. The last time it happened she was wearing steel caps and it left a sizable dent that they were both left scramble fixing before the landlord found out with even him very nearly breaking his self-censorship habit. Not her finest moment but her hands were full of takeout at the time, needs must!

Shrugging out of the tatty patched-up jacket that had been shamelessly robbed when last here because of a chill swept in way earlier than planned, the door is clicked shut with a suspicious frown whilst listening out for any signs or even where they might be squirreled right now only to be greeted with utter silence. Odd.

"Greeting committee is being a bit on the lacking side today. Even you too, furball? Will bribe for at least a hello here!" she shouts again from where the clothes are dumped over the back of the sofa before pressing her now bare elbows into it while leaning on the back expectantly. No response again. Huffing with annoyance the witch snaps her fingers together to create a small orb that crackles softly in pink hovering gingerly just above glossy black nails.

"My boys, your standards are starting to slip big time."

It is a simple enough tracking spell and while it'd fall under wasteful use, technically, better to have something harmless to save her hawking the few rooms in the place particularly given his familiar is sticking close rather than offering sarcastic remarks as he tends to whenever she comes over. That fact is even more important because if this is a bad episode that means sound dampeners are up too, it had been quite a while since the last but they're as unpredictable as the tides at times... Better to play it safe and with a flick of the wrist, the hunt begins.

The light flits to and fro as though needing to get it's bearings first then dashes over to the closed door of his own room and hovers there unable to go further which is a sure sign something had been put up to keep things in or out depending. Alright then straight up knocking it is.

The sounds on the other side are at best vague and muffled though her patience is swiftly rewarded by it opening enough to allow her to slip inside before shutting. There is the man himself sitting on the bed with back to the wall with his precious guitar held close to his chest, absolutely surrounded by pieces of paper that had been hastily scribbled on or scrunched up accordingly, a no doubt stone cold tea cup and the presence of one particular glasses wearing cat who had claimed one of these for himself to sit on. Giving the doorframe another tap he's flashed a grin to get a much more sheepish look right back and little more than a flicked ear by the other. Charming.

"My someone's been busy," she says while he scrambles to make some space in the disaster area that had been his current song writing project. It did explain the lousy reception that's for sure.

"Hmn, a bit. Had something I needed to get out my head and guess the time got away from me a bit. Sorry love," he answers apologetically while gesturing with one hand, the other is hunting for the pen that had made a break for it into the pillows.

"Not left you hanging at the altar too long have I?"

Giving him a small thank you, his familiar is ceremoniously scooped into the air with a surprised prrt then, after joining the pair on the duvet herself, he is given pride and place on her lap with a chin scratch before he can start complaining about being moved earning a quirked brow at the sheer display of blatantness. Personally she finds how Archie plays favourites sometimes absolutely hilarious, he's complained enough times how he always gets told off if he'd tried to touch him there though having better scritching nails compared to how short he keeps his own probably helps tilt things in her favour.

"Nah, you get inspired you bunker up with the cat it's fine! Only payment I demand is whatever you're working on," she replies nonchalant waving at the stack of sheets.

"Gotta be something real good if you put a keep out sign and I'm already here. So c'mon hit me."

"Sure I could do but I don't think it's ready, it's still rough as heck and I can't seem to get some of the words to come together how I want them to," Douxie groans putting a hand under his chin.

"Been driving me nuts honestly. S'like my brain just dumped them there and expected me to put them together again without any real input."

"It just means she gets to hear the first draft and you get an opinion other than mine," pipes up a voice of reason with a yawn.

"You've been going around in circles for the past hour anyway, a fresh test run is overdue."

Douxie seems to dither if to go ahead or not from the way his expression changes subtly between wanting to argue or just say to heck with it and yield to the pleading face and whined pleeeeeease coming from across the bed. From how the instrument is moved back into a more playable position it seems the yes vote has won out if still a little bit reluctant about it. Fingertips grace the strings to test them without committing to anything, then a deep breath is taken for luck and he begins to play.

On an eve of a night chilled with rain Did a door open to a world beyond Revealing a particular face On to be a future friend, another love With pursed lips and fire in her eyes Seeking shelter with the mundane

Thought nothing of it at the time like a fool Just wanted to be friendly Where could chat so innocently Enjoy that pleasant company All the while knowing Not getting attached was a hard and fast rule

We'd meet it'd seem again and again Upon desert shores and townships Admiring the ruins of ages and lives Share stories and freedoms Then part ways whilst knowing It was always a case of when

Messages would arrive upon a raven Crossing borders and seas Reminders that we're not alone Seeing the same sun, same stars Words to break the deafening silence But it'd never beat a real conversation

Because I lived for the ones with you

Somehow in the future Upon a leyline in California While making a stop with a delivery There would be a flash of colour And I would say Hey I think I know her

I'd have both good days and bad Sometimes the cracks would show through Centuries of living does nothing it seems Covered in the dust and grime So I would deny and lie through my teeth And say everything is just fab

You're stronger than you know Over and over you'd say Team up with him and pin me down Hold those words to my face Then say together So don't hide away, let it show!

It still wears but gets better From the smile I carry you know it's true Nothing in the world can get to me I have a brother to help me breathe Plus someone to fight my corner too And know I'd always let her

Because I love living in this world with you

A beat passes as the last of the notes echo into nothingness.

Then a second.

Just as he is about to ask what she thought and apologise again for it being a little on the cheesy side, his stupid grey shirt is grabbed to yank him close enough to kiss him and hide the blush sweeping across her face whilst miraculously not accidently terfing Archie off. Despite initial freezing in surprise he quickly melts into something far softer and loving with a look that refuses to fade when their lips part again. It never gets old no matter how many times Zoe has seen him do it.

"You might be a sappy idiot Casperan, but you're my sappy idiot."

#furblrwurblr #No facts truer than a good meme #Pinks and Blues #Zouxie #900 years of wandering

13 notes · View notes

restmyheadatnightcontent · 3 years

Text

febuwhump day 10 - ‘i’m sorry. i didn’t know’

this one kind of got away from me and i’m not super happy with it but here you go!

jaskier x valdo marx | 1621 words | cw: homophobia, implied bullying, implied abuse (v briefly)

__________

They were going to find out eventually. He’s honestly surprised that they never figured it out before – he supposes that he must have been better at hiding it than he thought.

He had always known that he was different, that he thought about people in a different way to everyone else. The boys at school would look at pictures at girls at talk about their bodies, and how good they looked, all huddled around a laptop late at night watching videos that they definitely shouldn’t be watching. All their focus was on the woman, but Julian (because he was Julian then, not Jaskier) found his gaze wandering. The woman was beautiful obviously, but he thought the man was too, in a different way to the woman but still beautiful nonetheless.

He didn’t dare say it out loud, he knew what the other boys would say if they knew the thoughts in his head, he knew what they would do. He was certain he wasn’t the only one who was different, he had seen the way other boys eyes lingered a little too long on the rugby captain in upper sixth, or the blush on their cheeks in the changing room. He was sure he wasn’t alone but none of the dared try to find out.

He still wasn’t entirely sure about it even after he kissed a boy for the first time. His name was Aleksander, he was a few years older than Julian and they had met during band practice. He played the saxophone and Julian thought he was brilliant. So it had been incredible when he had pulled Julian around the back of the music building and pressed their lips together. He wasn’t sure how long they were there, but Julian could have stayed there forever. His lips tingled for hours afterwards and he could feel the flush on his cheeks as he saw Aleks on the other side of the dinner hall. He would lie in bed at night, brushing his fingers against his lips, smiling at the memory where no one could see him.

So it had been all the more painful when after band practice the next week he had summoned the courage to wander over and ask Aleks if he wanted to come with him into town next week during the holidays, only to have his question met with a loud laugh. It wasn’t that serious, he had said, it was only a bit of fun, just a way to pass the time. He only did it because there weren’t any girls around, he said, just you wait until you can try it with a girl.

His heart had dropped and the embarrassment flooded through him. Obviously, Aleksander was right. It was just a bit of fun. It had felt so good, so he could only imagine what it would be like with a girl.

And that summer he found out. He was at a party, an anniversary party of some friends of his parents, and there was a girl who had freckles on her face and the most wonderful hair he had ever seen. Her name was Nina and she was going to be a dancer, she said and she had the most beautiful smile Julian had ever seen. Someone was making a speech and their eyes met across the crowd and the next thing he knew they were kissing, hidden amongst the trees. As his hands moved up to hold her waist, Aleksanders words echo in his mind.

It feels different, kissing Nina, but its not better than how he felt kissing Aleksander. Just different. He wondered if he was doing it wrong. It didn’t feel bad, it felt amazing.

The years went by, and he continued kissing both girls and boys, one in the open and the other in secret. He spent nights on the internet, frantically researching, looking for a label that would fit him. But he did it all alone. There wasn’t anyone at school he trusted, no friends back home to ask, and he certainly wasn’t going to talk to his parents about it.

And then came University. He stumbled off the train at Oxenfurt, clutching at his many bags, he made his way to his building and into his room. Finally a room where he could be himself, not have to worry about someone peeking at something over his shoulder, or that his parents will come barging into the room at any point. A weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

And then he met Essi. Beautiful, talented, wonderful, intelligent Essi. They had met when she shyly introduced herself when she took the seat next to him in the lecture theatre and the rest was history. She invited him along to the Freshers’ karaoke and to the pre-drinks she was having in her room beforehand and he readily agreed. There he met her roommate Shani, and later that evening when the three of them were wrapped up in a pink feather boa belting out Whitney Houston, he knew they would be firm friends.

University was the chance he had been waiting for his whole life. He joined the LGBT+ society and his eyes were open. In no time at all, his room was plastered with rainbows and he left for every club with his face swathed in glitter. He finally felt comfortable in his own skin. He was free. He started getting people to call him Jaskier, leaving poor, scared Julian behind.

Then he met Valdo. Valdo was brilliant. He was handsome, he was charming, he was funny and he could play the piano like no-one Jaskier had ever met. Valdo started sending him flirtatious smiles from across the room during seminars, and then he was asking Jaskier if he wanted to grab a drink. One drink turned into many, and then Valdo was pulling giggling Jaskier into a club and onto the dancefloor. He pulled Jaskier close, and then their lips were meeting in a heated kiss. Jaskier almost screamed in delight. Valdo was kissing him here, on the dancefloor in front of everyone. He was a far cry from the scared boy stealing secret kisses behind the science building.

They started going out properly - Valdo took him out to dinner, they went on walks around the park, went to gigs together. It was wonderful.

He should have known it wouldn’t last.

It was time for him to return home for the winter holidays. He gave Valdo one last hard kiss and tight hugs to both Essi and Shani before he was getting on the train, shouting promises for a video call soon before he left to take his seat. As he watched the fields speed by, a familiar curl of dread appeared in his stomach at the thought of seeing his parents again. He had said to himself that he was going to tell them the truth, about who he really was but as he steps into the hall he feels his confidence begin to drain away and the shame bubbling up inside him once again. He’d tell them later. No need to do it straight away. The days went by and everyday the thought of telling his parents grew stronger and stronger.

Then earlier that day, a noise from his phone pulled him up from his bed from where he had been idly strummed his guitar. It was a message from Valdo.

Come downstairs, it read. He frowned at his phone and then his moved towards the window.

Valdo was here. He waved at him, mouthing surprise!, before he stepped towards the door.

Jaskier had raced down the stairs, desperate to open the door before either of his parents could reach it.

His heart drops when he sees his mother standing at the door as Valdo introduces himself.

“Hi, I’m Valdo – Julian;s boyfriend. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

And he feels his whole world collapse around him. The way his mothers shoulders hunch at the word boyfriend. The fact that she says nothing and walks directly into his fathers study.

The shock must have shown on his mothers face, as Valdo then seems to understand what he’s done and he is reaching for Jaskier, his face pained.

“Jask, I’m sorry I didn’t know – if I had known – I wouldn’t – I never would have-”

“You should go,” he manages to force out.

“Jask, don’t—” Valdo reaches out to pull him into a hug but Jaskier steps back before he can. He doesn’t need to give his parents anymore ammunition then they already have.

“Please. Please just go,” he says.

And Valdo does leave.

Jaskier walks numbly up the stairs, back into his bedroom and waits. Waits for the inevitable.

It doesn’t take long. His door slams open and his father storms into his room shouting. Shouting about how he was no son of his, about the shame he had brought on the family, about he need to leave, that he was no longer welcome in this house. Jaskier tried to plead, through his tears, but it was useless. His father was ripping his clothes from the wardrobe, whilst his mother just stood in the doorway and stared.

Which is how he finds himself now, standing at the station, soaked to the skin clutching a bag that contained everything he could grab before his father could advance on him and show him exactly how furious he was.

His fingers shake as he unlocks his phone, and he can barely see the screen through the rain and the tears rolling down his cheeks, but he manages to start the call.

“Essi, it’s me – could I come and stay with you for a bit please?”

#febuwhump #febuwhumpday10 #my writing #my fic #the witcher #the witcher fic #jaskier #jaskier x valdo #essi daven #shani

3 notes · View notes

ethereousdelirious · 4 years

Text

Did I spend the whole day doing nothing only to get a burst of inspiration right before I had to go to bed? Maybe so.

This is for some OCs of mine, vaguely historical-ish steampunk setting. Post-canon, so you don’t have to worry about any plot stuff

Platonic caretaking, horsebacks rides in the rain, fainting etc

More notes under cut

Characters involved are my OCs Gilles, Sterling, and Hewitt. I’m in too much of. a hurry to make Picrews, but a quick overview: Gilles: ~25 y/o Black man, above average height, slender build, shoulder-length dreadlocks Sterling: ~25 y/o dark-skinned mixed race man, tall and broad, shoulder length straight black hair Hewitt: ~25 y/o white man, short and slender-soft, unruly blond curls (like seriously unruly, not just rakishly disheveled)

Final Note: Did a cursory Google search, realized that reality does not always line up with good fiction, and decided “fuck it.” So uh yeah, horses don’t really… work like this, but it’s MY story and I get to forcefully engineer circumstances so my characters have to ride double in the rain while one of them is sick

–

“This is all rather annoying,” Sterling said finally. “What ever are we going to do with a horse?”

Gilles tapped his foot and ran a finger thoughtfully over his bottom lip. “There’s really nowhere we can stay?” he asked, still examining the stable with a dubious frown.

Sterling shook his head. “The train company put up as many people as they could. We just had the misfortune of being at the bottom of the list.”

“Whitney…” Gilles began thoughtfully. “Whitney could keep a horse for us, if we’re not able to sell it right away.”

“Then we buy the horse.” Sterling stepped forward before Gilles could get it into his head to try to pay for anything.

They were summarily seated on the back of a sturdy brown mare and set off down the back road into Fallhille. They were behind schedule, which Sterling knew Gilles hated, and without their luggage. On top of all that, dark clouds had blown in to choke out the sun and Gilles had been reticent and sniffling all morning.

“I do hope Hewitt doesn’t worry too much about us,” Gilles said in Sterling’s ear.

Sterling scoffed, and raised his voice so Gilles could hear him over the steady clip-clop of horse hooves. “I doubt Hewitt even remembers we were supposed to be back today. You know how scattered he is.”

“I suppose.” Gilles fell back and cleared his throat.

After a moment’s silence, Sterling found he could no longer hold his tongue. Gilles was never much of a complainer even in the direst of circumstances, but Sterling very much was. “I can’t believe they didn’t have a single carriage for hire,” he griped. “Not one room for rent. For pity sake, they couldn’t even let us sleep on the train?”

To his surprise, Gilles started to laugh. He wasn’t usually the mocking sort, and Sterling was almost offended before a cold raindrop hit the back of his neck and he realized what exactly it was that Gilles was laughing at.

“I’m sorry,” Gilles said, evidently seeing Sterling bristle. “Do forgive me, it’s just–” The rain picked up, pattering loudly onto the hard-packed dirt road.

“I see,” Sterling said, urging the horse faster. He didn’t want to ride her too hard, but neither did he want to get caught in a rainstorm, especially with Gilles likely coming down with something, if his increased sniveling and throat-clearing were anything to go by.

“What an adventure,” Gilles said. He patted Sterling on the arm. “How romantic.”

“Have you decided to pursue a career as a novelist after all?” Sterling asked, knowing full well that Gilles had made no such commitment and likely never would.

“I do find myself inspired,” Gilles said. “Perhaps we’ll come across a cozy little inn tucked away in the woods and discover that the room we rent has only one bed.”

Sterling was in no mood for games, so he merely laughed. A gentle breeze rattled the leaves on the trees and Sterling was grateful he’d tied his hair back today. Behind him, Gilles shuddered and scooted in closer.

Sterling was starting to wish he’d argued harder with the poor railroad worker tasked with delivering the news that the train needed repairs. Gilles, for all his youthful vigor and commitment to healthful activities, was frequently ill. It was partially his constitution and partially bad luck, especially in reference to the injuries he always found himself sustaining. A jaunt in the cold rain would certainly do his health no favors.

As if to spite Sterling, the wind and the rain only picked up. It was coming down in sheets now, lashing against them at an angle.

“How long have we been riding?” Sterling asked.

There was a silence during which Gilles shifted so he could check his watch. “An hour, with another hour left to go.”

“Lovely.” Sterling sighed through his nose. Gilles leaned forward and pressed his forehead to Sterling’s shoulder. “Take my jacket.” If they hadn’t been riding a horse, Sterling simply would have removed his jacket and draped it over Gilles without so much as a word.

“Don’t stop on my account,” Gilles said, not lifting his head. “We’ll soon be home.”

“You’re shivering.”

“So are you.”

Damn.

They rode on in silence until Sterling gradually became aware that something wasn’t right. At first it was just a slight nagging at the periphery of his mind, something he could easily ignore. It grew more urgent though, this pressing sense that something in his vicinity was wrong somehow, and then Gilles stirred against his back and Sterling realized all at once what the matter was: Gilles was warm. That fact would have been concerning enough on its own, but it was what happened next that made Sterling’s blood run cold. Gilles lifted his head and said in a tone of polite inquiry that would have incited no concern from someone who did not know him quite as well: “Sterling, can we stop for a moment?”

They stopped at once, and Sterling dismounted just in time to stop Gilles from toppling off the mare’s back. It wasn’t a full-on faint, but it was enough to make Sterling’s chest swell with anger at the railroad company and every damned fool who worked for them. Gilles rarely asked for help and he never complained. He must have felt wretched indeed to have asked Sterling to stop.

“I’m alright,” Gilles said. The careless way he fell to his knees in the mud said otherwise. He hated dirtying his clothes. “I just n-need a moment.”

The sun had just about vanished beyond the horizon, leaving only a few golden-pink streaks in its wake. The sky darkened above them. Gilles shivered and steadied his head in his hands.

Sterling, not wanting to smother Gilles, soothed himself by pacing up and down the length of the horse. She, at least, seemed grateful for the rest. Sterling patted her head absentmindedly.

“Gilles, are you alright?” he asked when his companion showed no sign of moving.

“Quite.” Gilles stood on shaking legs and lurched rather than walked back to the horse.

“I wonder,” Sterling said, helping Gilles onto the mare’s back, “if I should send you off on your own. You certainly could go a lot faster.”

“I’d never allow it,” Gilles said. Though his voice was quiet, his tone was firm.

“Assuming I gave you a choice,” Sterling said. He clambered back aboard the horse and they started off again.

The rain let up when they hit Fallhille’s outer limit, until it was nothing more than a sprinkle when they hit the main road. Gilles coughed, a long, deep fit that made Sterling wince in sympathy.

“I’ll just drop you off at home and take the horse to Dr Bottle,” Sterling said.

“She’ll never let you leave, not at this hour,” Gilles said. He seemed poised to go on but his words gave way to another coughing fit. He took a shuddering breath and cleared his throat. “You’ll have to spend the night.”

“Say hello to Hewitt for me then, won’t you?” Sterling turned the horse down a smaller cobblestone path.

“Mm,” was all that Gilles said. More and more energy seemed to go out of them the closer they got to home, until he had most of his weight pressed into Sterling’s back. Again, fear flared up in Sterling’s chest. Gilles was not a man given to dramatics.

It should have come as no surprise, then, when they reached their cozy little townhouse and Gilles fainted on the steps.

It was such a quick, quiet thing that Sterling nearly missed it. One minute he was tying up the mare with Gilles motionless in his periphery, and the next–

At least Sterling was able to catch his head.

“Hewitt!” he barked as loudly as he dared, not wanting to make a scene. “Hewitt!” Gilles’ face was hot; his whole body was hot. The lamplight cast shadows over the angle of his face, turned his dark skin a hollow pitch-black. “Hewitt!”

Hewitt came out in his dressing gown, Gilles’ little dog Bonbon wrapped up securely in his arms.

The smile vanished from his face in an instant. “Is he alright?”

“Fever,” Sterling said gruffly. “We weren’t able to take the train, as you can see. It’s a long story.”

“Well, let’s get him inside.” Hewitt said Bonbon down and set her back toward the house. Then he knelt.

Gilles’ face twitched. Sterling sighed and looked at Hewitt, who was already distracted. “Erm,” he said, tugging at one of his curls. “Is that a horse?”

“I said it was a long story.”

Gilles rolled over and started to cough again, his whole body working with the force of them. When they finally calmed, he didn’t seem at all confused to find himself curled up on the bricks. “He sat up slowly. “I need to go to bed.”

“I should say so,” Hewitt said. “You’re burning up; I can feel it from here.”

Without waiting for assistance, Gilles started to get to his feet, leaving Sterling scrambling to get an arm around him. “How’s Bonbon?”

“She’ll be happy to have you back.”

Sure enough, Bonbon hopped down from her chair and started to lick at Gilles’ ankle the moment he got inside.

Sterling waited by the doorway. “I can’t stay. I have to deal with the horse.”

Hewitt seemed taken aback by this. “But where will you go?”

“Dr Bottle’s.”

“At least stay and dry off, won’t you?”

“I’ll never want to leave again, and I can’t keep the horse out there all night.” Sterling opened the door and stepped out. “Good night, Hewitt. Good night, Gilles.”

The door slammed shut with a gust of cold air. “Hmph,” said Hewitt, wrapping an arm around Gilles as instinctively as breathing. “So he leaves me with the invalid and rides away into the night with no explanation.”

“Sorry,” Gilles rasped.

Hewitt winced. “Oh, dear. Get to bed at once. Can you manage the stairs on your own? I want to set some water boiling– Oh, but. No, I’ll go with you, actually.”

“I’ll tell you what happened,” Gilles promised him. “Before I sleep.”

“Oh , but aren’t you exhausted?” Hewitt said, not able to entirely quell the note of curiosity in his voice. “I’m sure you’re exhausted. And you do need to rest before that fever gets nasty. I’ve seen how you get.” Gilles did not respond as they mounted the stairs.

Hewitt left him there to change his clothes and get into bed with Bonbon, and hurried down the stairs. He waited impatiently for the water to boil and made some weakly-brewed chamomile with an overabundance of honey.

The electric lights were still on and the door was open. Hewitt rounded the corner and smiled. Gilles was sitting up in bed, enthusiastically cooing at Bonbon while simultaneously fending off her attempts to lick his face

Hewitt set the cup and saucer on the bedside table and hopped onto the bed. “Are you hungry?”

“No,” Gilles rasped. “Thank you.”

Hewitt’s face fell. “I’m not sure you should be talking, with the state you’re in.”

Gilles nodded in agreement. “It’s really not very interesting,” he said, and coughed lightly into his sleeve.

“Well, then.” Hewitt stood and again and planted a kiss on first Bonbon’s head, then Gilles’. “I expect you to come up with a more interesting explanation of events while you’re ill, and explain everything to me once you are recovered.”

Gilles smiled fondly at him. “Alright, Hewitt.”

“I’ll leave to get some rest.” Hewitt turned off the lights and paused in the doorway. “I’m glad you’re back safe. I was worried about you.”

“Well,” said Gilles in a weak, ragged voice. “Rest assured, it’s a very interesting story ”

Hewitt laughed and shut the door.

#ethereous writes #ethereous ocs

6 notes · View notes