#// I have felt like shit since Tuesday morning

[gccdstories]

// yesterday was horrible. Started when I woke up with a headache. No (big) deal, I get them all the time. So I took my medicine and went to work.

Boy was THAT a mistake! Barely made it to lunch as it was, and I knew I had to be back to finish out the last three hours because it was just me and all. (At that point, I'm still just thinking it's a bad headache that isn't going away.)

Go home with an (extended) lunch to take a nap and immediately fall asleep. When I wake up, the head is a little better, and I think "okay, I can do three more hours."

Wrong, AGAIN!

I do make it to work, I do manage to finish the shift, but by that time, I'm exhausted, my head is still killing me, my throat is on fire and I can barely talk and every single part of my body just hurts. In that "I got hit by ten trucks" feeling.

Needless to say, I came home and immediately went to sleep. Slept all night, and well into this morning (b/c work had said I could come in late to get a bit more sleep, etc.) However I wake up feeling even worse (I wasn't sure how that was possible, but apparently it was) so I made a doctor's appointment.

They tested the usual -- flu, covid, strep throat, etc.-- all of which were negative. So... good? I guess.

I've been doing so much sleeping lately, and I did manage to eat a bit earlier which helped my head settle down.

And getting all the kitty love as neither Xaden or Sasha have left my side for the whole thing.

(It's also a good thing that I was off tomorrow anyway, so I have until Friday to get "all better" before dealing with work again.)

[jjscrybaby]

𝑻𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑲 𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑬𝑬 💿 — 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒂

jj maybank x fem!reader | fluff | (reader has hair, a fight, mentions of sex, kissing.)

masterlist.

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

JJ Maybank’s type was simple; girls that he never had to see again. It didn’t matter what colour hair they had, their height or personality, all he cared about was the sex and the lack of them the next morning. It was a running theme though that the majority of the girls he went for were Pogues, loud, reckless and naughty.

He was a man whore, all his friends loved to tease him about it but in reality it was deeper than that. It wasn’t that he’d never thought about falling in love like they did in the movies Sarah watched, it was the fear he felt when he’d think of that. The idea of being stuck with someone, giving them all of your trust when they could so easily walk away, he didn’t like the thought.

Not to mention, he’s not the ideal boyfriend. He’s been locked up more times than he could count, he smoked weed like he was drinking water and he was easily angered which always ended with his fist in another man’s face.

He didn’t want to be at the bar alone, but non of his friends would go with him. John B and Sarah were staying in, Sarah couldn’t drink due to the pregnancy and John B felt bad to go out without her, Cleo and Pope were having a movie night and he didn’t feel like listening to them bicker about morality and shit, Kiara was on a date with her new girlfriend and he definitely wasn’t invited to that. So, that lead to him stepping into the bar by himself ready to drink himself to death.

JJ was a regular at the Tangled Line, a bar on the edge of the pier which he’d been going to since he was fifteen. He knew everyone in there, the regular old men that sit in the corner, the owners who should be divorced but aren’t and the staff. That’s why he’s shocked when he takes a seat at the sticky bar and comes face to face with you.

“What can I get for you?” Your voice is sweet but professional, something he doesn’t hear a lot in this kind of place.

You don’t look like you belong here, a ropey bar full of old men that are sure to spend their night shamelessly flirting with you. You look too sweet. Too good. You may be the most beautiful girl he’s ever laid his eyes on, and for the first time maybe ever he’s at a loss for words.

“Um, yeah, just a lager,” he mumbled, eyes stuck on the kind smile you shoot him as you turn to grab a glass to make his drink.

“Five dollars, please,” you request, placing the drink in front of him.

He rummages through his jean pockets to find the loose cash he’d grabbed from Pope’s wallet — Pope wouldn’t mind — and placed a few notes down. You put the cash in the register and went back to standing, no other customers around. It was nine pm on a Tuesday, so that wasn’t much of a surprise.

“So, what’s your name?” JJ asked, after taking a few sips of his drink. You looked over at him, as if checking he was talking to you. “I just haven’t seen you around here before.” You introduce yourself, giving him a shy smile. It was obvious you hadn’t expected him to take any notice of you, and that made his confidence grow. “You just moved here?”

“Yeah, uh, my nan lives here,” you explained. “She offered for me to come stay with her for a bit, see if I like the change.”

“And do you?” He smirked, sipping his drink once again.

“Haven’t decided yet,” you shrugged sheepishly, fiddling with a charm bracelet on your wrist. “It’s only been a couple weeks, and I haven’t had the chance to meet anyone yet.”

“Yeah, this place ain’t exactly huge with the young folk,” JJ responded.

You let out a giggle and it’s like music to his ears, he grins back at you. “I’ve noticed, yeah. You’re probably the first person in here that’s not over forty.”

“Maybe I just look really good for my age,” he smirked.

“Maybe,” you giggle again, before an older man comes over for a refill and you walk to the other side of the bar.

JJ can’t take his eyes off of you as you work, and when you notice your cheeks heat up with a pink tint. He’s not sure what’s wrong with him, he has an urge to jump over the bar and kiss your glossy lips until you’re putty in his hands. It’s not the same feeling he gets with hookups, though, with them it’s all lust for his own pleasure; he feels like he wants to put you in his pocket and never let you out.

“So, what made you want to make the change?” He carried on the conversation when you walked back over towards him, not giving you a chance to go too far away.

“Uh, I don’t know,” you shrugged. “My nana said I needed to let loose, stop being so uptight. My mom wasn’t happy with me moving but she agreed in the end.”

“Let loose, huh?” He smirked, downing the rest of his beer before leaning forward towards you. “What time do you get off?”

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

When you’d moved to the Outerbanks, you never expected to meet someone like JJ. Someone that actually paid so much attention to you that you usually felt yourself blushing, someone who lives life in such a peculiar way.

He lives with all of his friends, and he works for their own business in a building that they built. You figured he’d only pay attention to you for a couple days, he already had a life here, but it had been over a month and you were still waking up with texts from him.

“Havin’ fun?” Kiara sat next to you, a smirk on her lips as she took in the sight of you. She’s never seen someone go to a party and read, but there’s a first time for everything.

“Yeah,” you smiled, looking over at her. She gave you a look, as if to say really? You sighed, smile still on your face. “Parties aren’t really my kind of thing, but JJ wanted me to come.”

“It’ll probably take awhile to find him, he gets easily distracted,” Kie joked, making you giggle.

“I don’t mind waiting,” you shrugged, nodding to the book that laid open in your lap.

“It’s nice, seeing JJ like this. He isn’t normally one to keep girls around.” Kiara was clearly tipsy, ready to reveal every secret about JJ she could think of. You couldn’t help but furrow your brows, looking at her as she carried on speaking. “He seems to really like you.”

“You think so?” You asked softly, hopefully.

She nodded her head, giving you a drunken smile. “I hope it works out. You’re fun, for someone that sits and reads books at parties. And I think you’d be really good for him.”

Before you can ask her what she means, her girlfriend calls for her and she goes stumbling away. You look around until your eyes land on JJ, he’s already looking at you.

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

JJ had become a regular at the Tangled Line, not for the booze but for you. He’d sit at the bar and chat to you throughout your shift, and then he’d drive you back to your nana’s house afterwards. Tonight, he’d shown up and had a couple beers, which then turned into vodkas.

You only had an hour left, most of the time you were just wiping down the bar to give you something to do so you weren’t just staring at the clock. You were halfway through a conversation with JJ, giggling at one of his flirty jokes, when you got interrupted.

“Oi!” Your head swivelled at the sound of an annoyed voice, an older man who you’d served earlier on stood there. “Gonna do your fuckin’ job or what?”

“I’m sorry—” you went to apologise, but JJ beat you to it.

“Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?” JJ was standing now, walking towards the man who had a scowl on his face.

“Not you,” he argued. “Get me a—”

“Nah, don’t talk to her. I’m talkin’ now,” JJ interrupted, once again. They were chest to chest now, and you were just watching with wide eyes. You’d never seen him like this, eyes narrowed and face red in anger. “Now, why don’t you try and ask nicely, huh? She don’t owe you shit.”

“It’s her damn job. Ain’t my fault she’s too busy whorin’ herself out to you to do her job—” he was cut off with JJ’s fist connecting with his cheek, sending her head to the side.

“JJ!” You exclaimed, covering your mouth in shock as the two of them started to fight.

JJ had the upper-hand the majority of the time, but the older man managed to get a few good hits in. By the time they were being dragged apart, JJ was spitting blood and the other was almost entirely unconscious.

“You need to get out of here!” You exclaimed to him, watching someone pull out their phone to call the cops.

“Fuck, no!” JJ argued.

“JJ,” you plead, trying to push him out the door.

“You comin’ with me?” He asked, looking down at you. His eye was starting to swell and blood stained his nose and lips.

“I’m gonna have to go grovel for my job—” you began to argue. He grabbed ahold of your waist, shaking his head.

“You hate this job. And I don’t want you workin’ here, servin’ other people that talk to you like that jackass. I’ll help you find another job, okay? I promise. Just come with me,” he begged.

You hesitated, looking back at where the man JJ had hit was slowly coming back to it, being held back by another man as he tried to get at JJ. You could see your boss coming out from the back, looking around in confusion. Your eyes landed on JJ, the determination in his eyes that he wasn’t going to leave without you.

“Fine, come on,” you sighed, ignoring the smirk that played on his bloody lips.

His fingers laced through yours and the two of you made a run for it out the building and down the road, he was chuckling but you didn’t find any of this amusing. You shoved at his arm once the two of you were far enough away.

“What?” He laughed.

“It’s not funny, JJ! You’re bleeding,” you argued, finally taking a proper look at the damage. He didn’t look that bad, once the blood was washed away there would probably only be a few bruises, but the sight still made your stomach churn.

“C’mon, baby, he deserved it,” JJ murmured, leaning down towards your face.

You sighed, pulling your hair from ponytail it was in to run your fingers through it. He reached for your waist, wrapping his arm around your back to hold you close to him.

“You’re an idiot,” you huffed, resting your face in his chest for a moment. “I can’t afford not to have a job.”

“We’ll get you a new one, one without old pricks who think they can talk to you like that,” JJ reassured, pressing a soothing kiss to your temple.

You wanted to shout at him, maybe even walk away and just go home. You’d never seen JJ like that before, John B had mentioned a few stories of JJ being in fights but you didn’t realise it could get that bad. You’d been a bit afraid at all the yelling and the blood splatters, but you couldn’t help the smugness you felt; he’d fought for you.

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

As promised, JJ got you a new job at the Wreck where Kiara and her family worked. He’d had to beg her to do him this favour, but luckily for both him and you, Kiara had become fond of you and she didn’t hate the idea of working with you.

You were locking up the restaurant, it was your turn to stay late and lock up, when you stepped outside you were met with a familiar camper-van and an even more familiar blonde leaning against it.

“I thought John B banned you from borrowing the Twinkie?” You teased, walking towards him.

He smirked back at you, shaking his head. “Sarah was bein’ sick so he was too busy to notice me take the keys.”

“Naughty,” you giggled, letting him open the passenger door for you. “I didn’t know you were pickin’ me up.”

“You haven’t got plans, right?” He checked, ignoring your statement.

You shook your head and he grinned, closing your door before jogging around to get in the drivers seat. You asked countless times where you were going, but each time he’d just give your knee a squeeze and turn the radio up higher. He pulled up at the beach, but an area you hadn’t seen before. It was secluded behind some rocks, just a small area of sand and the sea.

“What’s this?” You asked as he helped you step over the rocks.

“It’s my place,” he shrugged, sitting down on the sand. You sat next to him and his arm gravitated to wrap around your waist, a gentle kiss pressed to your cheek. “I— I wanna talk to you, ‘bout somethin’, guess I’ve been too afraid to do it.”

“Afraid? Of what?” You looked at him worriedly, resting your hand on his bicep comfortingly.

He gulped, giving you an anxious smile. “Y’don’t know much about how I was before you moved here, don’t really like talkin’ about it. I don’t want you to think of me like that, how everyone else does.”

“What do you mean, Jayj?” You asked gently.

“I’m not a good guy,” he murmured, looking out to the ocean. “And I don’t mean that in a self-pity way, it’s just a fact, y’know? I sleep with loads of girls and never call them back, I get in fights and end up locked up, literally every cop on this damn island knows me by name.”

“Really?” You didn’t sound judgmental, just surprised, and that’s what gave him the strength to keep going.

“My old man’s not a good guy either, guess I just grew up thinkin’ all this shit was right and now I’m older I know it’s not, but I could never get out of the habit of treatin’ everyone like shit. But then… well, then you came along,” he explained, voice softening at the end as he turned to look at you.

“Me?” It had been impossible to work out what you and JJ were. He flirted, sure, he’d hold your hand and kiss your forehead and beg for you to hangout with him, but he hadn’t outright said how he felt. You knew how you felt, though. You knew that whenever his eyes met yours your stomach would flutter, you knew that your waist would burn from his touch and you’d stay up late thinking of him when you couldn’t sleep.

“Yeah, baby, you,” he confirmed, a teasing tone. “I ain’t ever had proper feelings for a girl, guess that’s why it’s taken me so damn long to admit it to you.”

“Still haven’t,” you beamed, cheeks flushed and eyes excited.

He chuckled, turning his full body to face you. His hands cupped your cheeks and he leant forward so your breath was mingling with his. “I love you.” Your eyes widened, you hadn’t been expecting that. “That okay?”

“Yeah, definitely okay,” you whispered back. “I love you, too.”

He leant in and his lips touched yours, moving gently against your own. His hands were cold against your skin, but you never wanted him to let go. You brain went fuzzy and you pulled away slightly, breathing hard.

“You remind me of home,” you murmured softly, running your fingers through his hair.

“You are home.”

[cheol-e-kat]

openly pining, feat. k.mg

a/n: this isn't a bingo - just me out in the wilds and ughhhh they are so soft for each other

♡ kat

pairing: kim mingyu x f!reader

word count: 2.6k

genre: college au, fluff, confessions, some denial of feelings, cute!mingyu, pining, mutual pining, stepbrother!mingyu, stepsister!reader

summary: Mingyu has always had a crush on his step sister y/n. He’s also spent years pretending he doesn’t have a crush on her, and that he doesn’t notice her or the way she flirts with him. But then he ends up being the model for her life drawing class, and he ends up being much closer to her than he could have ever hoped for. 

warnings: nudity, step-cest (sorry, they’re in love), explicit language, unintentional voyeurism (she knows he sees her, so is it really?)

a/n: they need a minute to be fluffy with each other (plz don’t hate them)

The room was hot. Probably because the class was in the old art building, the one built in 17-whatever. The only hope for an air current was from the upper windows that were propped open. Mingyu could feel sweat forming at the back of his neck. He sighed, wondering what he had been thinking when he said he would step in as a model for a life-drawing class. Joshua had begged him though, promising that it wasn’t so bad since he was basically teaching the class, and when Mingyu initially turned him down, he promised there were cute girls in the class. Deep down, ‘cute girls’ were exactly why Mingyu had accepted - ‘cute girls’ were distracting.

So when Joshua met him before the class and told him to go strip in the makeshift changing room, he hadn’t hesitated. In fact, he had spent extra time in the gym that morning. But now he was hot and sweaty and realizing he really had to sit in front of a bunch of art nerds for like two hours. He had given up his Tuesday and Thursday nights for this. Worse, he knew he had agreed to show up for the semester because he found out it could count as his art credit. 

Joshua had elbowed him gently, “Perk up - they’ll give you shit if you look all moody,” his voice was matt-of-fact.

“They’ll give me shit?” Mingyu whispered hurriedly.

Joshua nodded, “Yeah, it’s an intense assessment for them, and they kind of get to give you direction - so if you look all surly now, they’ll be dicks because it’s, oh I don’t know, basically they get ranked on their sketches and overall paintings and get to pick their mentor for next year based on their ranking - it’s pretty competitive,” he shrugged like it was nothing to worry about. 

Mingyu blinked in surprise. He suddenly felt nervous, wondering who might be ‘arranging’ him or whatever it was. This was supposed to be an easy grade for him so he could finally get out of taking an art class, instead, it suddenly felt much more intimidating than an intro drawing class. His thoughts swirled, with one unfortunate consideration popping to the front of his mind - was it weird that he wasn’t circumcised, he wondered, he quickly shook his head, hoping to erase his brain in the process. 

Joshua brought him out from behind the curtain to a platform covered in white cloth, “Just hang out here while they come in and get set up.”

Mingyu wanted to drag Joshua back and force him to sit between Mingyu and the other students who were slowly coming into the classroom. He tried to keep his face neutral - he didn’t want to look terrified. He tried reminding himself that there were hot girls. His stomach did not seem to care at all and continued performing somersaults. 

After a few minutes, he realized that none of the students seemed to have even noticed him, and he thought maybe it wasn’t so bad because he was confident - he liked his body. Why shouldn’t people look at him and paint him - he pondered this, imagining stunning paintings and art gallery shows where he would definitely meet hot girls. Different hot girls. He had been feeling like his hook-ups were a bit stale lately. 

But then a voice pulled him out of his thoughts. He couldn’t bring himself to glance up to even confirm the voice was y/n’s or not. Every shred of confidence he had pieced together was suddenly flying away from him. In a way, it was great though - his brain virtually went into a shut down mode when he heard what he thought was his step-sister’s voice because there was no way she could be there. 

To be fair, he didn’t even know what her major was since he did everything possible to avoid her, including going to boarding school in another state as soon as he was old enough and could convince his mom that it was the best thing for him - he clenched it when he started a fire in his school’s bathroom and got hauled into the principal’s office.

And now, of all times, he was going to be trapped in a room with her. In reality, he didn’t need to look up to recognize her voice. For all of his attempts to ignore her entire existence, it only made things worse because when they were around one another, his mind seemed to catalog everything about her, her voice, the way her hair fell over her shoulders, everything down to when she was going through a glitter nail polish phase. 

Not to mention his friends knew her and talked about her - it was when they asked for her number that he would get annoyed, or if they were out and he saw one of them with her - that bothered him. The one thing that really pissed him off was whenever they mentioned wanting to fuck her - that was too far. Too far, even if he had been pointedly trying to ignore her since middle school. 

He barely noticed when Joshua came over to talk to him about the first pose. He was lost in thought and didn’t care about undressing or being guided into a certain position. He vaguely heard Joshua mention it was better if he were limp. Mingyu attempted being limp, letting Joshua and another TA do whatever they needed, down to tucking his hair behind his ears a certain way. There was a spot he was supposed to stare at, even, and so he decided to just see the spot and nothing else.

It was odd how his thoughts could completely die away. He assumed it was the heat of the room, and all the soft sounds around him, or maybe it was his existential crisis setting in. It was a strangely tranquil experience for him. And when it was over and he was dressed and leaving, he barely noticed that y/n was waiting in the hall for him. 

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ • ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

If Mingyu were really honest, he wasn’t surprised at all to suddenly be confronted by y/n. It was a very ‘her’ thing, to appear out of nowhere and disrupt his life. So when she threw her arms around his neck and congratulated him for ‘wrecking’ the entire class. He just nodded. 

She groaned, “Seriously? Still with the silent treatment? How old are you, Mingyu?” 

He knew she hated when he wouldn’t talk to her. He watched her shake her head as her arms slipped from around his neck. 

She reached up to squish his cheeks between her delicate hands,“You,” she squished his cheeks more, “are such a cunt, Kim Mingyu,” she sighed and backed away, “anyway, whatever, when there are like fifteen paintings of your cock in the end of term exhibition, don’t be surprised.” 

She laughed as she turned and walked away, leaving him alone in the hallway. Her scent lingering around him.

If he were really honest, he had never succeeded in ignoring anything about her. Even feeling her hands on his face and the closeness of her body was enough for him to get semi-hard, especially since the summer.

That was his biggest issue with y/n - the fact that he couldn’t ignore her. He almost hated how easily she could command all of his attention. She could do one tiny thing and turn his brain to mush for weeks. It had always made the summers and holidays exhausting - it was always him attempting to stay away from her and somehow ending up closer to her.

The one thing he could usually manage to ignore were his feelings for her. But she seemed annoyed with that lately. He’d spent the entire summer wondering if her only goal was to tease him, which only made him curious about what she wanted from him.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ • ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

He spent the next day trying to think of a way to tell Joshua that he needed out of the class. But he wasn’t fast enough to miss the next session. Where he had the distinct displeasure of two students, a guy and a girl, arguing over some small thing they wanted him to do. One wanted him lying down, left arm slightly covering his left hip - the other wanted him lying down but with his left arm above his head and head tilted back. 

He sat, naked, listening to them argue while Joshua was out of the room, until the guy walked over and grabbed Mingyu’s hand and put it where he wanted, above his head, which apparently made the line of stomach “better.” The guy started to do more, but the girl was having none of it. 

Mingyu had never felt quite so out of his own body - they were literally treating him like a human doll. And without Joshua there to run interference, he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do - they could pose him - that was part of it. At least, it was his understanding. 

He was surprised to see y/n appear, “Seriously, you know can’t readjust poses without talking Joshua - you’re fucking with everyone else’s workflow.” 

Mingyu recognized her ‘try-me’ tone of voice. 

The guy was quick to round on y/n, “Oh, big surprise that you would appear in an argument that has nothing to do with you,” he said sarcastically. 

Mingyu heard the soft sound y/n made, this little ‘click’ thing she did with her tongue that he knew was reserved for when she was acutely angry. 

“Just because no one else wants to confront you and your bullshit doesn’t mean you aren’t distrubing the room - not to mention there are rules about the models and who can approach and how, and you know it”—

He cut her off, “You know it must be exhausting to wake up everyday being such a know-it-all rich bitch, but it’s okay right - daddy will buy all your mediocre paintings, while the rest of us actually need to rely on talent to land shows,” he said acidly. 

Mingyu was surprised by how quickly that had escalated to something personal. She was just out of Mingyu’s line of sight, so he couldn’t see her reaction. And no one got to hear her respond since Joshua came back in at that point, and they all dispersed, back to hiding behind their canvases. Mingyu had maybe only ever heard one person speak down to y/n that way - a drunk guy at a party who wouldn’t leave her alone - her reaction had been to give that specific specimen a bloody nose. 

He hung around after the class, outside the building, more specifically, not wanting to be too obvious. He felt bad because he wasn’t sure if she would have stepped in if it were someone else. But that wasn’t exactly true - he was sure that she would have, which was probably why the guy had been such a dick to her. 

Still, when she came bursting through the door, still looking annoyed, he had caught her arm lightly, pulling her back towards him.

She had started to pull away, but he had just pulled her tighter against him. She sighed, knowing he was bigger than her.

“What?” she asked, sounding exasperated. 

He hadn’t really planned what to say to her, instead, he stared at her for a moment and then he leaned down and kissed her softly. His lips grazing softly against hers before he slowly pulled back, watching her react. 

She returned his gaze. “I just want to go home,” her voice was soft.

He nodded, “Alone?”

She shook her head, “No,” she whispered, her gaze meeting his - her arms around his neck, her fingers winding in his hair. 

He took the train with her, not caring that she leaned against him the whole time. He wondered why he had never taken any of the chances he had to indulge her when she was like this - when he knew fully that she wanted him. 

He looped his arm around her waist, wondering why he had let other guys be the ones to take care of her any other time. There were moments that replayed in his mind - times when he had seen the way she looked at him when she was sitting next to her various dates; times that he could only think of as her looking at him with something approaching sadness that always bothered him.  

He knew her apartment and her door code, letting them in easily. 

She groaned and threw off her bag. “If this is just because someone called me a ‘bitch’, it’s really not that big of deal, Mingyu. I’ve heard it before.”

He dropped his bag, “It’s not,” he replied simply.

She nodded, glancing back at him. “Because I don’t need your boy pity,” she whispered as he moved closer - her hands landing gently on his chest, like she was giving him an out of the situation. 

He ignored her and dipped down, kissing her, licking into her. He heard her soft gasp, as she pressed closer, her fingertips tracing along his cheek. It was surprising to feel how tender her touches were. He had always imagined she would be rougher - scratching, pulling hair. Instead, she let him pick her up - her legs going easily around his waist as she returned every kiss with her own. He carried her into her bedroom that way, only dropping her onto the bed when he wanted to. 

He wasn’t worried about undressing in front of her. And he knew she wasn’t especially concerned, given the number of times he had seen her lying out in the sun topless over the summer break. But it was different when she wasn’t teasing him - when, instead, she felt almost fragile and when he wanted to spend hours kissing her - making up for every moment he had missed. 

So he didn’t rush. Even naked, even with her underneath him, he kissed her delicately. He could finally show her how much he adored her.

He kept waiting for the moment that it shifted to sex, but somehow it didn’t. She was lying with her head on his chest, tracing little lines along his collarbones and shoulder. They were both quiet. She moved so she was leaning over him, her hair like a curtain - he reached up, smoothing it back. She stared down at him for a few moments. 

“Should we fuck tonight?” she asked, biting her lip gently, watching him. 

He knew her, “you're tired,” he whispered, still playing with her hair, knowing all the tell-tale signs of when she was genuinely ready for sleep.

She laughed and moved to the side, lying on her back, away from him. “So in another seven years, then?”

He turned on his side, pulling her back against him, “That’s not what I said.”

She snuggled closer to him, “It’s how it feels,” she said, a tinge of dejection in her voice.

He sighed, “Do you know how good it feels to just be lying next to you like this?”

She glanced back, “Mmmh, tell me.”

He flushed, not knowing what to say immediately. 

And finally, he managed to speak again, “I don’t want to be anywhere else,” he traced his hand over her hip gently, “just here with you,” he kissed her shoulder, “memorizing how perfect every part of you is, knowing the closer I am to you, the more I’m giving myself to you, trusting that you’ll feel the same,” he finished. 

He was surprised when she turned back and kissed him. She took her time, and when she barely broke the kiss, she smoothed his hair. 

“I love you too,” she whispered.

a/n: i mean...i told you - idk they just didn't feel like they were in the place to fuck yet - go to my masterlist to read mingyu fucking (light hearted but fr too)

♡ kat

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tag list: ☁︎@syluslittlecrows [e] ☁︎ @gyuguys [e] ☁︎ @tinyelfperson[e] ☁︎@unlikelysublimekryptonite [e] ☁︎ @livelaughloveseventeen [e] ☁︎ @codeinebelle [e] ☁︎ @ateez-atiny380 [e] ☁︎ @haik-chu [e - o/m] ☁︎ @gigglensnort [e - o/m/priv] ☁︎ @lovetaroandtaemin [e - b.f.non] ☁︎ @starlit-rin [m - o/m, b.f.non] ☁︎

[pitchprowler27]

Hearts On The Sidelines Part 4

“Sooo are you going to tell me why you look like shit or are we going to continue to pussy foot around it?” Bobby flopped down next to her. The two were hanging out at Ellie’s apartment after a rare day off. Ellie hadn’t been sleeping since she ran into Mitch. She can’t stop having nightmares about her time overseas. She can’t sleep for more then two hours at a time before she’s riddled with endless dreams - memories of her times trying to save everyone. Waking up in a pile of her own sweat, heart beating out of control and just lying in paralyzing fear. She would take running on empty if it meant not having to feel so out of control. 

“Can we just enjoy each others company without having to have a heart to heart?” Ellie tucked her legs up and covered herself with a blanket. Bobby is just staring at her blankly knowing that uncomfortable silence was Ellie’s Kryptonite. She stared back trying not to let the uneasiness take a hold of her like it usually does. “Come on Bob” She dragged out. She really didn’t want to talk about this. “How about we talk about how I got Leah’s number instead.” 

Bobby’s jaw drops to the ground when she says that. He gets a weird creepy smile on his face that can only mean trouble. “I’ll let you off the hook for now but yes tell me everything.” 

Ellie goes into great detail, well really the cliff notes version, of the nights events. She leaves out the part of running into Mitch and her emotional break down in front of her crush. Bobby is shocked that Ellie had such confidence. He too is happy that they had a soup sandwich week and she was able to capitalize on this. By the time Ellie was done telling her friend about everything that happened he was still wearing a shit eating grin. He grabbed Ellie by the shoulders and was shaking her back and forth. “I’m so proud of you!” 

“Alright alright alright that’s enough. Do I even wanna know how your night was the other night?” 

“Honey your little prude ears would fall off if I tell you the dirty things that man did to me. I’m still shitting out his juniors if you know what I mean.” He smirked over his cup of coffee knowing his words were going to gross Ellie out. 

It did because she slapped him on the chest “Ew Bobby you’re disgusting.” Before the two could continue their conversations Ellie’s phone buzzed signaling she got a texted message. Thankfully it was from the girl she had been thinking of. 

Leah: Hey pretty girl, any chance you want to get coffee Wednesday morning? 

Ellie had to stop herself from screaming but her face betrayed her, she was blushing. Even after Ellie was weird at the club Leah still wanted to see her. Karma was real.

Ellie: Yes! Just name a time and place. 

Leah: Roasted at 8?

Ellie groaned knowing that she worked Tuesday night until 7am but she would do anything to see the other girl again. Bobby looked over her shoulder and saw the message and grimaced for his friend. He knew that she wouldn’t say no to her. He just gave her shoulder a supportive squeeze.  

Ellie: Sounds like a date 

Ellie: I mean plan, sounds like a plan. 

Leah: Oh no pretty girl you got it right the first time.

Bobby let out a low whistle “Okay Eleanor who knew you had it in you.” Ellie grabbed a pillow and smacked him with it “I just hope you don't get fucked at work and you’re miserable like you usually are when you run on no sleep.” 

“I am not MISERABLE after working over nights.” 

“Ellie…babe…come on” Bobby again hit her with that dead stare that made Ellie agree that maybe she was a little miserable when she was tired or finishing an overnight shift. 

“Who knows maybe It wont be busy and it’ll be an easy OT shift. I’ll get a little sleep and be the perfect peach on this date.”

———————————————————————————————————————

She did not get any sleep, it was not an easy OT shift and Ellie felt dead on her feet. As she stared at herself in the locker room mirror she wondered if it was too late to cancel. It was already 730 and she already squeezed herself into jeans, it was indeed to late to cancel. Splashing some cold water on her face in hopes to wake herself up was a last ditch effort. Ellie has on a pair of simple blue jeans and a paramedic hoodie. Her hair is up in a bun that is somewhere between messy and put together. She didn’t look to bad but the bags under her eyes were very telling of how tired she was. 

She slaps herself on the face once, lets out a deep breath and grabs her keys. The drive over was only seven minutes but to Ellie it felt like the longest seven minutes of her life. She was exhausted and her body was betraying her excitement of seeing the blonde. Its been a few days since she seen Leah and she’s kind of craving seeing the other girl. Theres something about her that she can’t put her finger on quiet yet. She’s captivating. She has caught Ellie’s attention and she wants more of the older girl. 

She parks her car and heads over to Roasted. She takes one final deep breath before she opens the door to the cafe. Ellie’s tired eyes scan the small establishment and sees Leah sitting in the corner. Her tired legs drag her over to the other girl and if Ellie wasn’t so tired she’d be starstruck by how beautifully attractive Leah looked. She too was wearing some light colored jeans, a white t-shirt and an Arsenal letterman jacket. Her hair was down and looked effortless. She looked perfect. 

By the time Ellie made her way over to her Leah stood up to greet her. “Hey pretty girl, I’m happy you were able to meet me. I didn’t order anything yet I was waiting for you.” She gestured towards the counter signaling for Ellie to walk over. Ellie turned and then looked back at Leah waiting for her brain to catch up with what was just said. Leah is looking at her expectantly, the look making Ellie finally move. As she’s headed to the counter she feels Leah’s hand rest on the small of her back guiding her to the counter. The action immediately makes her get butterflies Something so simple shouldn’t make her heart race but it does. 

When they get to the counter Ellie orders an a quad shot of espresso over ice with milk. Leah raises her eyebrows in surprise but doesn’t say anything. Like the true gentlewoman she is Leah pays and they sit down with their coffee. As soon they are sitting Ellie’s anxiety immediately spikes. Reality of the situation has set in. Here she was on a date with the girl she’s been swooning over for a few weeks. Not just any girl but someone Ellie undoubtedly finds attractive. 

“Sooo…” Ellie is looking anywhere but Leah, and if she was she would see the amused look she’s wearing. One she often wears when she is with the smaller girl. 

“What’s the matter Ellie? You gone back to being my shy girl again?” She coyly asks the girl across from her. She smirks when she sees the heat rising in her cheeks. 

“I am not shy!” 

“I’m pretty sure if it wasn’t for all the Green Tea shots you had you wouldn’t have danced with me the other night.” 

“That’s not true either!” Ellie knows that it is 10000% true. She would’ve stayed clear from the other girl if it wasn’t for the liquor running through her veins. “Maybe its like 5% true.” 

That earns Ellie a laugh and she smiles in turn. She never thought she was unintentionally funny before. Everyone usually always comments on how shy and awkward she is. Excluding bobby no one thought she was known for being humorous.

“So tell me pretty girl how is it you save lives but can’t hold a conversation with little old me?” 

“That is so different” She just raises her eyebrow as if telling her to go on. “Saving someones life is predictable. Theres protocols, rules, structure that you can follow. Of course there’s the unknowns but there’s almost always an answer.” Ellie is flinging her hands around as she’s speaking not really paying attention. “You are the other hand are….so you.” 

Leah leans back in the chair lacing her fingers behind her back sizing Ellie up like she’s her next meal. If Ellie was speaking her truth it was fucking hot. The endless confidence just oozing from her was infuriating but went straight to her core. Ellie would not mind being Leah’s next meal. “Whats so bad about me pretty girl.” 

“You’re hot” Ellie blurts out and instantly is redder then Arsenal’s jerseys. She covers her face with her hands and mumbles out a “fuck”. In hindsight she should’ve known coming here right after working 12 hours with no sleep was a bad idea. She may still be awkward but her ability to filter out her words has been lost. “I mean, yes you are hot but. You’re you and I’m…” 

“Also hot?” She raises her eyebrow daring her to argue with her. “Don’t sell yourself short pretty girl. You are also not too hard on the eyes, but please, do continue saying how hot you think I am.” 

She once again flushes with heat in her cheeks. She knows inherently she isn’t doing anything wrong because Leah seems to enjoy the banter but she feels like she’s messing up. “You’re a world class football star and I’m just a paramedic” 

“Just?!” Leah leans forward instantly appalled that she would say such a thing. “Ellie you literally save lives I kick a football around for a living.” 

She waves her off not wanting the attention on her. They continue to go about their morning date without stress. Of course Ellie is awkward and rambles about silly facts or random thoughts. She may or may not have told the blonde in front of her she has nice hand veins. It wasn’t long until Ellie could feel the fatigue start to take its hold on her. The pressure she felt on top of her eyes and she was trying, but failing, at hiding all the yawns. Leah caught on very quickly and was eyeing her up. Realization dawned on her and she reached out grabbing one of Ellie’s hands. “Did you work last night?” 

She slowly blinked and thought about how to answer the question. “I mean some would say I was working last night yes.” 

“Ellie!” She admonishes. “Why didn’t you say anything! We didn’t have to do this today.” She was not impressed that the girl in front of her should be sleeping and not downing insane amounts of coffee to stay awake just to talk to her. 

“Because I wanted to see you.” Ellie was looking at her drink that sat on the table not wanting to see Leah’s reaction. 

“Pretty girl we could’ve done this anytime.” 

“Oh yes because our schedules are so flexible.” Again, it earns her a laugh from the blonde. “I also wanted you to kiss me..” She mumbles out that part almost hoping she doesn’t hear but Leah hears everything. A knowing smirk was painted across her face. 

“Come on I’ll walk you home, no way you can drive. Maybe if you’re lucky you’ll get a good night kiss.” 

On their walk back to Ellie’s apartment it was met with a sense of ease about them. Their fingers kept brushing against one another, Leah linked their fingers together like it was second nature. Ellie prays her hands don’t get clammy but she knows theres a high chance that they will. Leah shares fond memories of her childhood with Ellie who smiles and nods along. She isn’t as forth coming with personal information but the other doesn’t mind. When Leah walks her to the door Ellie is rocking back and forth on her heals. 

“Is there something you want to say pretty girl?” Leah asks looking down at Ellie. She damn well knows what Ellie wants but wants to hear her ask. 

“Leah…” 

“What can I do for you beautiful?” She tucks a strand of stray hair behind Ellie’s ear. She cups her cheek and her thumb gently rubs against it. “I can’t help if you don’t tell me what you want.” 

Ellie wants to roll her eyes but she can’t deny that its hot. Everything Leah does is attractive. She feels small under the blondes intense stare but can’t help but want more of her. “I want you to kiss me.” 

Leah starts to lean in slowly giving Ellie all the time in the world to back away. Her lips gently capture Ellie’s in a tender kiss. It sends shivers down her spine and heat to her core. She’s never been kissed like this. With such passion and tender care. Leah deepens the kiss not ready to part from the smaller girl. Her hand is still on her cheek and the other goes to her waist taking full control of the kiss. When they finally break apart Ellie is seeing stars staring at Leah like she hung them one by one in the sky. 

Leah has this soft tender look on her face with a hint of a smirk, “How was that?”

“Yep” Ellie is smiling and nodding her head. Not many thoughts going through her head. A mix between fatigue and dazzlement from the kiss. 

“A woman a few words Ellie girl and I couldn’t ‘ask for anything else.” She kisses her on the forehead and takes a few steps away from the door. “Get some sleep and text me when you wake up pretty girl.” She turns to walk away but thinks better of it, facing the younger girl again “Until next time pretty girl. Can’t wait to see what you beg for next.” 

[phthalomushroom]

The Family (4)

last next

pairings: modern!mafia!aemondxreader

summary: You had left Kings Landing and the Targaryen family four years ago. Now back and living with your old roommate you realize that the life you had thought you escaped had seemingly been waiting for you. But will the family really let you go? Will the people you left behind forgive you? Can you forget the past and look to the future?

warnings: language, mentions of trauma, stalking?

word count: 1.4K

note: I thought I had the rest of this planned out but my brain keeps finding new ways to change it on me. Next chapter though, we got some tea coming! Hope you enjoy!

You had felt like you were going to throw up.

Once you had left the party you had headed home and downed at least half a bottle of tequila. To say the hangover this morning was a difficult one was an understatement. You pulled yourself out of bed, grabbed your phone that you had discarded somewhere on the floor in your drunken haze and looked through the messages from Baela and Rhaena who were asking where you went.

It seems your drunk self was responsible enough to text back something that resembled that you had made it home.

You moved across the room, barely missing stepping on your shoes as you headed to the kitchen. You needed something to eat that you wouldn’t regurgitate right away. .

“There’s nothing to eat.”

You turned to see Baela lounging on the couch, a rag shielding her eyes from the light.

“We need to go to the grocery store.”

“No shit.” She sat up taking the rag from her face, she looked like she also got hit by a bus. “Glad you drank my tequila, if it was here when I got back I probably wouldn’t be alive right now.”

You frowned, joining her on the couch. “I take it you didn’t enjoy the party either.”

“I take it the talk with Aemond didn’t go well.”

“He was drunk and an asshole.”

She tilted her head. “Aemond doesn’t drink… he is an asshole though.”

“But he was never an asshole to me.”

She smirked. “Then I guess you’ve officially joined ‘Aemond’s an asshole club,’ I’ll get you one of our t-shirts-”

“Baela I’m being serious.”

“So am I, we meet every Tuesday to talk about the new assholey thing he’s done.”

You rolled your eyes, a headache starting to form. “I really thought that there might’ve been something left, but he’s changed since the last time I saw him.”

She shrugged. “He’s gone through a lot. Aegon’s death, Otto being locked up, and now you coming back. There’s been a lot of change happening.”

You rolled your eyes. “So because of all that he’s marrying Alys? I mean he couldn’t have picked someone with a little bit of, I don’t know, humanity?”

Baela chuckled. “I know this won’t be easy but things will get better, I promise. Besides, you’ve got your first encounter down which means you never have to talk to him again.”

“We live in the same city, I doubt I will never talk to him again.”

“Yeah but this time you don’t have to be so civil.”

You smirked, pride flaring in your chest a bit. “I was civil, wasn't I? 

Baela wrapped her arm around your shoulder. “I thought you were going to burn the place down, but you didn’t.”

You let out a long breath. “I need food and I need something to take my mind off all this shit.”

Baela smiled. “Shopping?”

You nodded in agreement. “Shopping.”

********

You and Baela had managed to stomach a little bit of breakfast at a cafe before making your way to the East side of the city. You decided on going to a well known store that was big for its unique couture.

You scavenged the racks trying to find some good purchases that matched your style. Baela had managed to find a few and had left you to go try them on in the fitting rooms. You had offered to go with her in case she wanted some feedback but had declined on the premise of not wanting to hog the fitting room.

You were currently looking through some sweaters when you heard an all too familiar voice.

“Well, look who's back in town.”

You stiffened, casting a glance over your shoulder to see Daemon Targaryen. He had his hands in his pockets and a sly smirk on his face.

“Daemon.” Was all you said before turning yourself back to the rack. You pushed yourself closer to the clothes, concealing your hand going into your bag to pull out your mace. You made sure to put it in your pocket so that it was easily accessible. 

“A cold greeting is not meant for family, sweetheart.” He moved around the rack so that he was in your line of sight. 

“We aren’t family.”

He sighed. “I have to say I was disappointed when I heard about the failed engagement. Aemy was so excited, nearly killed him to see you go.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “I thought the Targaryens no longer accepted you in the family, after your little coup with Rhaenyra.”

“A misunderstanding, Rhaenyra and I have been welcomed back. My lovely nephew saw to that.”

“Bullshit.”

“You’ve missed a lot since you left.”He leaned against the rack. “You shouldn’t have come back, (Y/N).”

You straightened. “I’m not involved in whatever shit you have going on. So leave me alone.”

He frowned. “I’m just reminding you that despite your disagreements with Aemond you are still seen as part of this family.”

You glared at him. “Aemond never told me anything about the family business. He never wanted me involved.”

“I was talking more in the literal sense.” He held his hands up. “I like you, (Y/N), which is why you should leave town.”

You raised a brow. “Are you threatening me?”

“No, I would never threaten you, I’m just giving you some advice. There are still bad people wandering around and I would hate for something bad to happen like last time.”

You crossed your arms. “That sure seems like a threat, Daemon.”

“If you don’t want to take my word for it, why don’t you ask the man who's been watching you since you and Baela left the cafe.”

You looked to where he gestured with his head to see the man in question. He wore a red baseball cap with a plain t-shirt and jeans and was staring very intently at a pair of tailored pants. 

He looked up briefly, catching your eye. He noted that you and Daemon were staring at him. He set the pants down and wandered towards the front of the store out of sight. 

“Who was that?” 

Daemon shrugged. “Ghosts of Aemond’s it seems, but I guess yours too since you shot their boss.”

You stared at him, unflinching. “That wasn’t me.”

He grinned, pointing a finger at you. “You are a good liar, I’ll give you that.”

Your hand drifted to your pocket with the pepper spray.

“Don’t worry too much,” Daemon said, taking a step back. “Aemonds gave his instructions in regards to you.”

“And what instructions are those?”

“Don’t let you die.”

You huffed a laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “So he’ll assign a protection detail but he’ll treat me like a mistress.”

He took a step back. “I’ll be watching you, (y/n).”

“Creepy.”

He turned away, heading towards the front of the shop no doubt in hunt of the man in the red baseball cap.

“Was that Daemon?”

You jumped at Baela’s voice, nearly knocking down the rack of clothes you had spent too much time at. 

“Yeah,” you answered. “Just coming by to tell me he’s watching me.”

Baela shook her head “The family guard dog is back at it again.”

“Tell me about it.”

Baela had seemed to find some clothes she wanted to buy so you two headed to the registers. 

“Can I ask you something?” you asked before Baela could check out.

“Yeah?”

“Daemon mentioned that he was part of the family again. Is that true?”

“Yeah, I don’t know the specifics but about a year after you left Aemond had announced that he and Rhaenyra were no longer enemies of the family.”

You shook your head. “You’re kidding me, even after they killed Aegon?” 

Baela shrugged. “Jace said Aemond never does anything without a plan and I guess he needed them back in the family.”

You shook your head, watching as Baela put her clothes on the counter. It didn’t make sense, Aemond’s own brother being poisoned at the hands of those two. The Aemond you knew would never have sided with the people who murdered his big brother. Sure, Aegon and him had their differences and Aegon got on Aemond’s every nerve but he would never disrespect his brother like that.

And now you were being followed by some mystery guy and Daemon.

What the hell happened since you were gone?

Tag List: @dixie-elocin @liannafae @toodlesxcuddles @watercolorskyy @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @namelesslosers @tssf-imagines

[lillaydee]

One Heart Part 3

Sheriff Joel Miller / Reader

Trying and failing miserably to recover from an inconceivable loss, you accepted your best friend's invite to spend time with her and her family for a summer, hoping for a chance at a new beginning. Little did you know that the new beginning you were stepping into was a little too close to home.

WARNING:

Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Good Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Grief/Mourning, Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Ellie is mentioned, Sheriff Joel, Sarah plays matchmaker, No age gap, Joel is in his 30s, Joel is Trying His Best (The Last of Us), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Fluff and Angst.

SERIES MASTER LIST

PART 2

---

“She doesn’t speak?”

“Nope. She understands you, responds, nods, shakes her head, does things when asked, but she doesn’t speak. And if what you’re telling me is real, I mean… wow!”

“But… did she get checked out?”

“That little girl had been in and out of the hospital since she was born, of course she got checked out. For a while, people just thought she developed slower, you know, because of her… condition, but then she got better, and she still didn’t speak. And you are telling me she was speaking in almost complete sentences, so… yeah… shocking. I’m surprised Jenny didn’t hire a blimp telling the whole town!”

“What condition?”

She contemplated telling you, taking a deep breath, but decided against it. “Maybe you ask Joel about that, okay? Not my place. Not a fond memory to think of either… so…”

You wanted to ask more. You needed to know more. But the idea of asking Grumpy Ol’ Purdy Sheriff Miller (whom, incidentally, you totally flashed yesterday, not that it factored in your decision-making process when it came to him AT ALL) about anything, much less something as private as his daughter’s illness just turned your insides into icicles. You really wanted to know, though. You connected with this little girl, and before you had Ellie, you were one of those women whose idea to calm a crying baby was to pat their head with one finger and say ‘there, there’. You thought having Ellie would have changed that, but even when she was around, you had never warmed up to other people’s children.

So, why Sarah? Was it because she was Ellie’s age? That some of her demeanours reminded you of Ellie? Why though? Because she stepped on your foot and hugged your leg? Because she played with your hair?  Many children do that, you’re sure of it.

You really didn’t know.

‘You sure about that? Nothing to do with the fact that her Sherrif father is the hottest man you had ever seen in your life?’

What? No! Of course not. Shut up!

Yeah… definitely had nothing to do with it.

‘You did flash him, though. And even though he was the perfect gentleman about it, you were sure he fidgeted a bit too much after.’

Oh, shut up, you noisy, nosy, overthinking, sex starved brain.

---

You woke up early on Tuesday. 2 am early. Three days here and with the exception of that first night, you had slept well, despite the unease you had going on. You got dressed, got your bike out, ready to head to the market at the edge of town, the moon shining brightly, enough for you to see the area. You liked this. You had been cycling everywhere since you got here. Your body hurt like crazy, but you felt… limber, despite the stiffness in your muscles. Free. The air felt clean, the town felt safe, even with the obviously problematic kitchen window that Sarah had climbed into, you just felt as if nothing bad could happen to you.

“Where you off to, Lady?”

FUCKING HELL!!!

You jumped off your bike, convinced your skin remained on it, ready to kung fu your way out of whoever the fuck it was that just interrupted your blissful, romantic early morning fantasies about this town, scaring the living shit out of you.

Joel was sitting on Jenny’s kitchen steps, still in his uniform, a lit cigarette in his hand.

Shit.

“Your pass down your ability to sneak up on people to Sarah, or something? I swear one of these days I’m gonna have a heart attack and one of you will be responsible for it. Mark my words.”

He chuckled, standing up, walking the few steps it took to get to you.

“What are you doing out here? It’s 2.15 in the morning.”

“I just got home, needed a smoke, didn’t want to smoke where Sarah might see.”

“Didn’t know you smoked.”

“I don’t, usually, a bad vice from my younger days. I just… needed one today.”

“You just got home? You were out in town earlier than I was.”

“Had to help out on a case from out of town. Usual business. So, where are you off to? Bit too early for a bike ride, isn’t it?”

“The market. Had to help Maria with the shopping. I start in her kitchen today.”

He looked at your bike, now flat on its side on the ground, before stubbing his cigarette out, fishing his keys out of his pocket.

“Let me drive you.”

“No, no… it’s okay. I need the exercise. I like it. Helps me think. It’s not exactly far. Plus, you just got in, you should go get some sleep.” You picked up your bike and began wheeling it off.

He didn’t move, hesitantly fiddling with his keys.

“Go get some sleep, Joel. You look like shit.” Yeah, right, as if that’s possible. “I’ll be fine. You know its safe. Didn’t you work all day to keep it safe here? Good night, Joel.”

And you pedalled out of there, the light from your handlebar lighting the way. When you looked back as you were leaving the gate, he was still standing there.

Holy Shit.

You just had a full conversation with Joel, and neither of you yelled. Well, you did, when you thought he was a ghost, but that’s not the point. But the two of you were civil to one another. That’s great, right? Good job. Good job. See? You’re doing better. You’ll be fine. One day at a time.

When you arrived home two hours later, you thought you saw the curtain from one of the upstairs windows of Jenny’s house moved as you shut your front door. You needed to get some sleep before lunch prep.

---

There was a loud banging coming from your front door. Someone was aggressively knocking over and over and over. You glanced at the clock, it’s 730am.

God, no. Not again.

“Lynn!!! It’s Jenny. Are you home?”

You jumped up and immediately opened the door. A harassed looking Jenny standing there, Sarah and Jello in her arm.

“So sorry to do this, Lynn, but Omera is out sending Winta to school. Can you watch her for a bit? The horses got out. Joel is there helping. I have to go help them. Please?”

“Yeah, of course,” you said, taking the little girl into your arms. “Be careful!” you shouted after her, she just waved her hand in the air, sprinting towards the farm, far too agile for someone her age. You looked at Sarah, the little girl looking way too excited to be in your care. “You hungry?” She nodded. You set her down and opened your fridge.

“What would you like for breakfast?” you asked, scanning the contents of your fridge, which was abysmally bare.

“Egg Furries,” she said confidently.

Excuse you? “Egg Furries?”

Excited nod.

“What is Egg Furries?”

“Egg and Furries.”

Huh. Okay. Google is your best friend, right? You got your phone and typed in “Furries”.

A bunch of people dressed in furry animal costumes appeared.

Okay. Not helping. Call Maria.

“What are Furries?”

“Huh?”

“Your niece just told me she wanted Egg Furries for breakfast. What is that?”

“Well, it’s not like she’s ever spoken to me or made requests for breakfast, Lynn. She said Egg Furries?”

“Yeah, and I googled it, and all I got was pictures of some convention where full grown adults are walking around in furry animal costumes. I doubt that’s what she had in mind.”

Maria cackled. “My best guess, it’s Egg Fried Rice, she loves them,” she said. She was quiet for a while, before a snorting sound filled your ears and she was suddenly howling with laughter. “Egg Furries, oh my God that is gold!!!” she said between laughter. You can practically hear her wipe tears off her face. You heard Tommy ask her what happened. She told him. And you stood there, patiently listening to them laugh for what felt like five whole minutes. When Maria spoke again, she sounded emotional. “Sorry,” she said, voice slightly cracked. “Never thought we’d be laughing about something Sarah said, you know? You must be one special lady. She still hadn’t said a word to Joel or Jennie, let alone anyone else.”

You looked at the little girl, who was now busy studying your purple folded bike, flicking the lights on and off, completely entranced by it, your ratty, scratched up old silver helmet wobbling on her tiny head, Jello sat on the seat. There was suddenly a warmth in your chest.

“Yeah, well, I’m on babysitting duty for a bit, and she’s hungry. Anything she’s allergic to?”

“No, but if you’re making her fried rice, go easy on the salt. She shouldn’t be having too much of it. Nothing artificial or fatty, so no bacon or pancetta. No red meat. And no artificial anything, and go easy on the sugar, unless you want Joel to shoot you dead.” You heard Tommy complain about Joel in the background, Maria shushing him. “Just give her the Furries and some fruits, you’ll be fine,” she said, before her and Tommy started laughing again. “Furries, I tell ya…” She went quiet for a bit, “Hey, you mind if I come over and hang out with you guys a bit before work? Would love to hear her talk to you if she does… I’ve… I’ve never heard her speaking voice, you know? Tommy too?”

“Sure. We’ll be having Egg Furries for breakfast.”

She told you she’ll be over in maybe half an hour and hung up, still howling with laughter.

Sarah was eating her fried rice, pretending to feed some to Jello, when Maria and Tommy arrived. She was excited to see her aunt and uncle, but too busy eating to get up. The three of you chit chatted for a bit, Tommy sitting on the window seat with his breakfast.

“Lady?”

“Yeah, sweetie?”

“Can I want one more?”

“Of course! You want some more juice with that?”

Excited nod.

You got her bowl and glass and went to refill them. As you were putting the freshly squeezed orange juice back in the fridge, you were suddenly struck by how quiet the house was.

Tommy was holding Sarah close in his arms, hugging her for dear life. Maria was speechless. She smiled a teary smile at you, mouthing ‘thank you’.

You kept forgetting that Sarah had never talked to anyone.

Tommy set her back down on her chair when you placed her refilled breakfast on the counter. He gave you a bear hug, saying thank you over and over again. You waved his thanks away, asking him if he wanted coffee. He just laughed softly, telling you he’ll get it himself.

Someone knocked on the open door. It was Joel, looking tired as hell, looking for Sarah.

“Morning brother,” Tommy said. “Coffee? Orange Juice? Egg Furries?”

Joel looked perplexed for a moment, before his eyed landed on Sarah, who was busy enjoying her second helping of Egg Fried Rice and orange juice. His perplexed look disappeared, immediately.

“Who cooked the Fried Rice?”

“I did,” you said. “Why?”

“Can I talk to you outside? Alone?”

Okkkay…

When you got outside, Joel was not facing you, his fists clenched on his sides.

“Who told you to cook for my daughter?”

“What do you mean? She was hungry, she hadn’t had breakfast.”

He turned to face you. His face the epitome of anger. “You think you know what’s best for my daughter just because she speaks to you? Hmm? How much salt did you use? Was that orange juice freshly squeezed?”

“Yes, Joel, the orange juice is freshly squeezed. I didn’t use much salt at all, the MSG already gave the fried rice…”

“You used MSG when cooking for my daughter?” he raised his voice. So loud. So, so loud. So loud, Jenny came flying out of her kitchen door. Maria came outside, asking what was going on.

“What is going on, Maria, is that your friend here, used MSG when cooking for my daughter. Are you trying to poison her?” he advanced on you, and you shrunk back. “Did you even bother to check her dietary requirements before making anything for her? I know you were some big shot chef back where you came from, but here, in my home, when you are cooking for MY daughter, I decide what she can and cannot eat, do you understand me?”

Jenny and Maria were speaking all at once, trying to calm him down, Maria trying to explain, but it seemed like he was having none of it. His face was red, his body stiff. Tommy flew outside, trying to calm him down as well, but Joel was focused on you, the lady who obviously had nothing but ill intentions towards his daughter. Gone was the Joel who apologized to you, who offered you coffee and a ride, this hostile looking, enraged man was all that was left.

“Daddy.”

The chaos shut down immediately. Sarah was on your porch, looking at Joel as if she was about to cry.

“No, Daddy. Don’t yell at Lady.”

Joel looked as if he just woke up from a bad dream. The stiffness and anger melted away from his body. He went over to Sarah, picked her up, and asked her, “What did you call me?”

“Daddy.”

Joel broke down, hugging Sarah tight, his whole body shaking from wrecked sobs. She put her tiny hand on his head.

“No Daddy, don’t cry.”

Joel lifted his face for her to see, and she pulled his lips sideways.

“Smile Daddy. Don’t cry.”

He gave a weak laugh, tears still pouring down his face. Tommy, Maria and Jenny watching, looking as if their greatest wishes had just come true.

“I’m sorry BabyGirl. Daddy was just happy to hear you speak to me.”

“It’s okay… but you say sorry to Lady okay? Don’t yell at her anymore, okay?”

Joel looked at you. Guilt filling his features.

You didn’t look at him. You went inside, shutting the door behind you.

---

Maria glared daggers at Joel. She and Jenny went into the big house, waiting for Joel to come in. When he did, Jenny took Sarah from him, telling her its time for her bath.

“What the hell was that?” Maria asked, her arms crossed on her chest.

“Look, you don’t know what she put in there, okay? She’s never cooked for Sarah before, she doesn’t know her medical history.”

“And yelling at her, humiliating her, accusing her of trying to poison your child was the way to handle that?”

“She told me she put MSG in the food!!!”

“Oh my God, Joel. She’s a professional chef, she’s a mother. She makes her own MSG; she didn’t use store bought processed ones. Just because it’s MSG, doesn’t mean it’s bad for you.”

“You can do that?”

“Yeah… Joel… you can make your own MSG. She used Shitake Mushroom. Heck, even I make my own MSG. And I have been using them when I cook for all of you.” Maria was beyond exasperated. “And, for the record, she did ask me if Sarah was allergic to anything. She’s not dumb, Joel. The woman makes her living cooking for people. You think she wouldn’t have thought of that?” She was starting to calm down, seeing Joel looking sheepish and regretful.

“Look, Joel, I get you are protective of Sarah, but she’s okay now. Did you forget? She’s not sick anymore, Joel. Let her live a little. She doesn’t have to live by the old standards anymore. And please, please, for your own sake, and especially for Sarah’s, please do not go around screaming at people who were more than willing to look after your kid at a moment’s notice. Specifically, people who she likes, like Lynn, who was only making sure your daughter didn’t go hungry this morning.”

Maria got out of there, crossing over to go to yours.

Tommy leaned on to the kitchen counter, his older brother looking so ashamed of himself, he couldn’t help but pity the guy, although he was definitely glad he was not on the receiving end of Maria’s wrath. He cleared his throat, bracing himself for the outcome of what he was about to say.

“You know, that lady has been here three days, and today, I heard my sweet niece speak for the first time ever. She called you Daddy, Joel. How long have you been waiting to hear her say that word? I get you want to protect Sarah, but maybe, just maybe, Lynn being here is good for your daughter, brother. Try not to scare her away, okay?”

Joel kept quiet. He had nothing. He knew he was more than guilty.

“Talk to her, apologize, tell her the whole situation. She’ll understand. I mean, I don’t know her well, but she’s been Maria’s friend since infancy, you know. I doubt Maria would have stayed friends with her all these years if she was a bad person. And… to be frank, she has history of her own, you know. You screaming at her, accusing her of trying to poison your daughter… that’s not helping. That was mean, brother. Apologize, please. I mean it.”

He made to leave, but continued, “And… you didn’t hear this from me, but hurting little girls? That’s a massively sore spot, brother. So… again, apologize. Grovel. Soon.” He patted Joel on the shoulder and left for work.

Joel heard the door to your house open. He hid himself, peeking out from the kitchen window. You and Maria were leaving for the restaurant. He knew for a fact that it was too early for you to leave for the lunch service. Your face swollen from crying. His heart sank. He felt like the biggest douche bag that ever lived.

You left early because of what he did.

He kept hearing Sarah’s sweet voice, the one he had only heard for the first time two days ago, calling him Daddy, telling him to say sorry to Lady. Even a three-year-old knew he crossed the line. What a dickhead, Joel.

He had to talk to you. Tonight. Make it up to you. Apologize to you.

That’s what he’ll do.

---

PART 4

[cheeeeseburger]

Dream girl Part 7

Next part

Sidney Crosby x Reader

Masterlist

A/N: What is this, another part on the same night, with a third one on the way? I'm on fireeeeee. Anyway, English is not my first language, enjoy!

Quickly, you and Sidney fell into a routine. He made you breakfast in the morning; you packed him snacks with a little note. The note was usually a joke, and it always made him smile.

At night, when he was not busy playing in another city, the two of you would cook dinner together. He knew you hate touching raw meat, so he cut the chicken while you seasoned the veggies. Sidney thinks his life was meant to look like that.

But he also noticed the way your eyes watered when you looked at your cellphone, or how you avoided attending his games in person. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who the texts were from and who you were not looking forward to see again.

So far, you had managed to hide to your boyfriend that you were living with Sidney. The rookie still thought you were living with your friend. The captain just wanted to scream it to the world, but you wouldn’t let him, afraid of creating drama, especially since the playoffs were soon approaching. The rookie still thought you were living with your friend, and you let him believe that.

Sidney’s feelings were as strong as ever, but he wasn’t sure about yours. He knew for a fact they were there because of your promise to him, but also because he noticed them in the heat charged gazes you sent him and the way your eyes would trail his mouth, his jaw, his chest.

For his sake and the sake of your relationship (which was nothing but your two names on a dotted line because of the condo), you two established nonofficial limits. Of course, there had been moments when those rules were nearly broken, but how could they not, when two consenting adults were crazy for the other and living under the same roof?

The Penguins had just won the game, and Sidney was on fucking fire. It felt good to win, but it felt even better knowing you would be waiting at home for him.

When he did come home, though, you were not waiting for him in the living room like you usually did. Instead, he heard vague noises coming from upstairs.

“Sweet? Are you okay?” He nearly ran upstairs and knocked on your door.

“Uh, yeah. Just a second, please!” After a minute or two, you opened the door, a slight flush on your cheeks. “Hey, Sid. Congrats on the game. You played so well. That second goal was phenomenal.” Okay, you were definitely blushing and avoiding looking at him.

Suddenly, he recognized those sounds. You had made similar ones back when you and the rookie were still living together in his basement. The noises, the light layer of sweat, the blushing, it all made sense: you were touching yourself, and hopefully, you were thinking about him while doing it.

“Thanks, sweet. Glad you saw it. I just wanted to check up on you. I’m going to let you finish now.” He said that last part with a wink. Busted. You turned crimson. He was grinning from ear to ear.

“Um, yeah. I’m going to do that. Goodnight!” You nearly shut the door in his face. He heard you say ���oh my god” repeatedly under your breath. Sidney chuckled. He was secretly glad you closed the door so quickly because he wouldn’t have been able to hide his erection any longer.

He entered his own bedroom, not fully closing the door. His hand was immediately in his pants. Knowing that you were doing the same thing basically next door did it for him. None of you knew, but you finished at the same time.

Sidney avoided the rookie at all costs in the locker room without it being too obvious. It took all of his self-control to not punch the defenseman in the face when he talked shit about his girlfriend that refused to talk to him. In his mind, he had done nothing wrong. Fucking idiot.

One Tuesday, while he was brushing his teeth, you came into the bathroom and sat on the counter. It was clear it was a rough night for you. Your phone had been blowing up all night and he heard you curse your boyfriend’s name. Sidney just wished you would break up with him. He did not know why you refused to, even though you would clearly never get back with him ever again. You acted like you were taken anyway, never daring to cross a line with Sidney. It was not his place to comment, but it was starting to burden him. He wanted to understand, but the old posts on your social media of your perfect relationship were a constant reminder.

“I wish I could be your mistress.” He nearly spit out his toothpaste. “What?”

“Yeah. That way, I wouldn’t be cheating on anyone.” Honestly, that was a pretty cheap thing to say. It was selfish and you only said it out of misery.

“But I would have to cheat on someone, and I would never do that to anyone.” Maybe his tone was cold, because your eyes misted immediately.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, Sid. I just meant that I want us to be together, but I can’t cheat on him either.”

“Then why don’t you break off with him?” The words came out harsher than he intended them to.

“I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know! It’s so stupid, but I can’t bring myself to, and he only wants to have me back. I know he’s awful to me, but he was my first love, and I always imagined we would get married someday, you know? I guess I’m waiting for a good reason, even though I have an endless list of reasons why!” Tears welled up in your eyes.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry, okay? I’m sorry for saying that. I guess I’m just impatient, and maybe a little bit hurt.”

“Oh Sidney, I’m so, so sorry. You have to hang on to my promise, because I will stay true to it. I never wanted to hurt you. It won’t be long, I swear. I want you, Sidney Crosby. Will you wait for me a while more?”

He sighed softly. “Of course I will, my love. I’ll always wait for you.”

To seal the deal, you softly pressed your lips on him. At first, he was too shocked to do anything, but Sidney quickly returned the gesture with a soft kiss. He shared the taste of the toothpaste with you. A few seconds or minutes later, you pulled away shyly.

“Goodnight, Sidney.” You jumped of the counter and Sidney watched you leave the room in awe, his feelings even more conflicted than before. At least, you had given him hope.

The next day, the note on his snack was a kiss. Like an actual kiss made with your lipstick. He pinned it proudly in his locker.

[12romy]

Trying my hand at AUs, so here you go, Chewie coffee shop AU! Enjoy~

“Hey, mister three-shots-of-expresso,” Lewis beams as his favourite client enters the coffee shop. He looks entirely dead on his feet, with bags under his eyes that make him look like a panda. Lewis should tell him to invest in a good concealer. Or some hours of sleep, maybe.

“Hey, Lewis… Make it four shots today,” Charles replies, yawning.

“Oof, rough day?” It’s almost seven pm. The very thought of drinking a single expresso this late is making Lewis shudder. “Maybe you should take it easy. Get some actual sleep.

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead,” he shrugs. “Oh, do you still have any cupcakes left? The-”

“The chocolate-chip ones, I know, I kept one just for you. And also, death is what’s going to happen if you keep drinking so much caffeine,” Lewis warns him.

“Just need to get through the end of the week, then I’m finally free,” Charles smiles. “I haven’t been managing my time right, and I took two big projects at once. Won’t be doing it again, trust me… Anyway, only two days to finish everything up. So, I really need the coffee.”

“Two days?” Lewis asks as he gets Charles his four expressos. “Alright, well, after that, I’m putting you on a coffee ban for two weeks.”

“Two weeks?” Charles gasps as if he’s personally offended. “Maybe I’ll just go to another coffee shop.”

Lewis knows it’s an empty threat. “You wouldn’t dare,” he replies, playing it up as a terrible betrayal, a hand over his heart.”

“Stop being so dramatic... You know you’re my favourite barista in the world.”

Charles' chuckle is downright adorable, and Lewis can almost feel his heart skip a beat. “Ah, so you’re coming here because of me, and not because of the pastries? That’s good to know…” he trails off and enjoys the light blush appearing on Charles’ cheeks.

“Yeah, I mean… the pastries are good,” he stutters. “Hey, hum, listen, I was thinking…”

Lewis has to refrain from smiling. Is it going to happen what he thinks is going to happen? He’s harboured a crush on Charles since the first time he entered the coffee shop, and he’s pretty sure it isn’t one-sided. He’s caught Charles staring several times, and he saw the way he blushes whenever he flirts a little.

It’s probably taken so long because Charles has been with his head under the water the entire time with his work.

He remembers the first time Charles entered the shop way past nine at night, looking desperately for a coffee. He had stayed sketching until it was closing time, and Lewis had felt terrible about having to make him leave. But he had kept the shop open an hour longer than usual already, and even though he wasn’t working the next day, he needed sleep.

Charles came back after that – usually in the evenings, arriving somewhere between 5 pm and 10 pm, sketching plans for what looked like buildings, and making complicated calculations on his notebook, the old-fashioned way instead of using a laptop.

It was endearing, so of course, Lewis started to chat with him whenever he was taking a break. And since he's the manager, he could take as many breaks as he wanted. He is more of a night owl, so he has employees for the morning and lunch shifts, while he takes care of the afternoon and closing.

“So, I was thinking,” Charles continues, still stammering. Oh, his blushing is the cutest. “Maybe, uh, since I get some days off after I’m done, we could like- go out for a coffee? Wait, no, scratch that, not a coffee, I’m stupid…”

“How about going for a picnic,” Lewis offers, and shit, he’s probably flustered too. Thank God there are no other clients at the moment. “I can make pastries, and you can take care of the food? You said you knew a good recipe for pasta salad…”

“You remember that?” Charles says, gobsmacked, and Lewis nods shyly. “Okay, that sounds… that sounds amazing, actually. You close on Monday, right?”

“And Tuesday,” Lewis blurts out before he can stop himself. “I mean, not that I think we should spend both days- sorry. Yeah. Monday is perfect.”

“It’s a date,” Charles grins a bit wider, and there’s something a little feral in his expression. Lewis is going to blame it on the caffeine. Yep, just caffeine. And the fact he didn’t drink a single cup doesn’t mean he can’t be in the same state.

[rafesapple]

MY K!NK IS KARMA

rafe cameron x reader blurb

warnings

slight angst,karma,murd3r at the end

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Rafe broke up with you on a Tuesday. Just for some dumb bimbo girl. You gave him the best you could, you really did. And he kicked you out at that? Right after having sex with him the night before, god it was comical. You sat outside with your bags on the curb while smoking a cigarette. Not that you had much, he claimed since he paid for most of your stuff he'll keep it.

You tilt your head as you watch a car pull up a petite girl adorned in pink getting out. Rafe welcomed her in, scoffing as he saw you then closing the door back. "I need to stay with Verina.." you mutter about your friend. Thank god you had found a job and getting loads of hours, it might've tired you out but you found an apartment to rent. Plus you didn't have to work crazily anymore. You sat in your kitchen with Verina, she said she'd cook you dinner and bring it over. As you ate she cleared her throat speaking up "mm so rafe-"

"I don't fucking care, he can fuck that girl in the a-" she cut you off "Quiet. he's really fucking losing it. he moved back to tannyhill and that bimbo bitch he was with, she cheated on him with frat boy." she speaks while taking bites in between, she knew you loved karma. "its what he gets." you speak bitterly and so you listened around all the time about Rafe, it was amusing listening about shit he got into. he was drinking downtown and getting kicked out for saying shit about you. even fucking crashed his car.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

It had been 6 months since april.6 months since you last saw Rafe. And now he was at your doorstep. how'd he even get your address. "you look good." he muttered while smoking a cigarette. "what do you want." "I don't want nothin." god he even shaved his hair to a buzz. "then why are you here, Rafe." you no longer said it in that gentle tone. When you woke up early in the morning cuddling with him. "can I come in."

"Rafe, why would you ask me that shit?" he looked fucking drunk and high "You're high." you muttered out "Just go home." "darling, please? I.. you know I still love you-" and you slapped him. Then and there. You couldn't take it.

.

.

.

.

.

Oh god. It felt so good. You wanted him to suffer more. That's why his warm blood was on your face. You stepped over his body. Like it was garbage. Oh god…oh god…oh goddddd!!! people said you were jealous, but your real kink was karma.It felt like you were on fire, it was so fucking hot.

©rafesapple est.2024

[thotofthecentury]

fuckboy!angela x reader college au

could be read as a part 2 to my last one, but isn’t required to read this

TR: dubious consent, briefly

“You haven’t said anything since you last spoke?” Mariah whispers from across the library table.

“No!” you whisper-shout back. “I’ve done everything I can to avoid her! I am out of the room when she doesn’t have class, I go to bed before she gets back-“

“God, just ask her out already,” Chanse groans into his hands at normal volume.

You and Mariah both shush him, looking around, perhaps a bit paranoid.

“Not yet!” Mariah replies at the same time you say, “Are you crazy?”

The last time you spoke to your roommate, Angela, was Tuesday. Today is Friday. Your suddenly super hot, sexy, and very flirtatious roommate.

“You can’t avoid her forever,” Chanse whispers like you didn’t know that. Like that hasn’t been on your mind since she found out you were a virgin. To face her… now that she knows…

The words ‘you can’t avoid her forever’ loom over you like a cloud. Or more like a loaded gun. It’s nighttime and you suspect Angela’s going to stay over at a girl’s dorm, being Friday night and all, but you never know.

You’ve never felt more vulnerable or practically humiliated than when she called you out for being a virgin. When she called you out for not-so-secretly masturbating while she hooked up with a girl in the next bed! But it was just a one time thing. It’s over. There’s nothing more you can do but to coexist with her.

An hour passes and you’re ready for bed. It’s 2:30 in the morning. Just because you’re a bit of a prude doesn’t mean you don’t have fun on Friday nights. If ‘have fun’ means watch reality tv for hours on end instead of doing homework. Angela’s called you lame for it, but at least you’re having fun.

You turn out the lights and lay down, getting all comfy to go to bed, knowing you won’t have to get up uber early to leave the room before Angela wakes. No way she’s waking up from whatever hangover she’s about to suffer from anytime before lunch.

You wake with a start to a soft thud on the outside of your door. Probably someone drunk stumbling to their room.

“Shit,” you hear from the hallway along with a keycard hitting the tile floor. It’s Angela’s voice.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. You look over to the clock. 3:43.

You are not letting this ruin your very peaceful slumber. You roll over and pretend you didn’t hear a thing. Surprisingly, falling back to sleep wasn’t a challenge. Must have taken her a while to figure out how to unlock the door completely wasted.

You feel your hand grab your own boob under your shirt. Your hips rock slowly into… something. The pressure between your legs grows. Your eyes open to a pitch black room. 4:17, the glowing red digital clock reads. Both of your hands are suddenly back to your sides. The wetness between your thighs is obvious. You’ve had sex dreams before, but this was different. There was no dream part. Out of nowhere, your body reacted. To something? You guess you bunched up part of your blanket in your sleep and shoved it between your legs.

There’s warmth still on your boob and when you go to touch it, you touch a hand. Your heartbeat quickens. Then you feel a body beside you, touching you, leaning against you to not fall off the twin size bed. You know who it is.

You gasp and raise yourself onto your elbows.

“What the fuck?” you whisper. You hate yourself for whispering. This is not a time to whisper.

She shushes you softly, moving her hand from your boob to your face. One finger presses over your lips.

“Don’t,” she whispers. “It’s ok.”

“What are you doing?” you say quietly, obeying her.

“I wanted to help,” she whispers into your ear before kissing your neck. Her hand goes between your legs, toying with the hem of your underwear. You never bunched together your blanket. Her hand’s been there before. How much before?

“I-I don’t-“ you start but cut yourself off with an unintentional moan as she pulls a finger up over your clothed clit.

“Wait, stop,” you try.

“I don’t think you really want me to,” she hums into your neck.

“Y-Yes I do-“ you moan again.

“Fuck, stop it,” you try to sit up, pushing her hand away with one of yours. You’re out of breath and so insanely turned on.

She places her hand on your inner thigh.

“Y/n, let me help you. I’ve seen the way you look at me,” she swipes her tongue from the base of your neck to your ear. “I’m doing this for you. It will be quick, I bet you won’t last long.” Her breath is directly on your ear, her hot, hot breath. There’s a faint smell of alcohol coming from her.

“Angela, I don’t-“ you want to say you don’t want her to but yes you do. She’s ever so slightly pulling your thigh, spreading your legs, and you clench around nothing.

“Say the word ‘no’ and I’ll go to bed,” her hand squeezes your inner thigh.

“I-“ you moan again.

“Mmm, what was that?” she teases, licking your neck again.

“God, just fucking do it,” you say. It felt like another person said it. But you know it was you because her fingers push your underwear to the side and she plunges a finger deep inside you.

You swallow, hard.

She wiggles the tip of her finger against your g-spot and you grasp her wrist. You push her in deeper.

“Angela, more,” your whispers are strained.

“How can I deny you?” she whispers back. She adds another finger and roughly pushes into you to her knuckles. She leaves her fingers there for a moment. Her fingers are larger than yours, that’s for sure. Your knees threaten to close.

All while leaving her fingers inside you, she positions herself between your thighs with her other elbow next to your head to keep herself up right.

“Does that feel good?” she asks, the streetlight reflects off her big brown eyes that now look down at you.

“M-mhmm,” you whimper.

“You’re going so good, honey,” she says as she starts to finally thrust her fingers in and out. Her wrist lines up with her pelvis so she begins using her hips as well, to drive her fingers into you. The palm of her hand digs into your clit with every thrust.

The bed begins to make the smallest thump against the wall behind it.

You’ve never felt your g-spot and clit be used at the same time and it’s making you crazy. The leans all her body weight into you creating the best pressure imaginable. Her mouth surely leaving marks along your neck.

“I think I’m-“ you try but it comes out as a moan.

“It’s ok,” Angela whispers without relenting her pace. “You can come, y/n.”

“Fuck, Angela,” your legs squeeze her waist and your hands scratch her back as you come. You grind into her, reveling in your aftershocks. Once you relax, she pulls out of you and brings her fingers to your lips. You take them into your mouth, licking between her fingers. She doesn’t break eye contact. You’ve tasted yourself before but never on someone else and you’ve obviously never had Angela’s fingers in your mouth before which is really what you’re loving about this.

Angela leans down to connect your lips, tongue darting between them. Your tongues meet and it’s like heaven. She pulls away and you’re certain you saw a string of spit in the faint streetlight.

“You kissed me,” you say softly.

She raises an eyebrow at you before flopping onto her back beside you. “Yeah, I also just fucked you, keep up,” she laughs.

You turn over to look at her silhouette. “Yes, but you didn’t while you were…”

“Fucking you,” she provides nonchalantly.

“Yeah,” you sigh and you are so glad there’s no light on. Your cheeks are undoubtedly bright red.

“Be grateful because I usually don’t kiss a girl until the third hookup,��� she adds. Ah, there’s your roommate Angela.

You close your eyes, meditating for a moment instead of lecturing her on treating women with respect.

“Hey, so that was really hot and I’m really turned on now,” Angela says. “I don’t expect you to do the same for me, but would you mind if I took care of it? I can go to my bed-“

“Don’t go,” you cut her off.

She smiles a stupid half smile. “You can, y-you should,” you stutter. “I want you to do that… here… I want to watch.”

[munsons-melody]

sick day

summary: eddie cuts class to come help you get over your cold

pairing: eddie munson x female!reader

cw: none + established relationship

word count: 1.5 k

a/n: i thought this was a v cute concept

masterslist

i do not consent to having any of my works republished, translated, or posted to any other site except here. if you see my works anywhere but tumblr, it has been republished without my knowledge, consent, or permission.

—

you were undeniably, undoubtedly sick.

what started out as a sniffle from the day before turned into a full-blown-out nasty cold. you could only blame the weather for the illness.

it was a gloomy tuesday morning, and upon hearing your groggy voice and horrific cough in the morning, your mother sent you straight back to bed and called the school to tell them you weren't coming in.

you ended up falling back asleep for a handful of hours, trying to avoid the torture of being awake with a headache, a sore throat, and uncontrollable coughing. however you were soon woken up by your phone ringing.

"hello?" you sleepily croaked out, your voice hoarse from the amount of coughing you had succumbed to

"hey y/n, why aren't you in class?" you heard eddie ask, the sounds of people talking behind him. he was using the school phone to call you.

"i'm dying," you told him, sniffling a little bit. "what?" he asked in confusion

"i got the worst cold ever and i'm dying" you said again, feeling a cough coming on

"oh shit, how are you feeling?" he asked and you rolled your eyes

"actually I'm doing great thanks," you responded sarcastically

"sorry, that was a stupid question" he said. you heard the bell ring in the background and some shuffling noises

"i gotta go babe but i love you, feel better" he told you, making you smile. "i love you too" you said as you heard a click and the dial tone ring out.

you coughed a couple more times, causing your throat to burn with pain. you groggily pushed yourself up from your laying position and sat on the edge of your bed

you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and your looks had mirrored how you felt; like shit

your nose was bright pink from the countless times you had to blow your nose, cheeks were flushed, hair was in the messiest braid ever, your dark circles engulfed your eyes from the lack of sleep you got the previous night. you were wearing a giant shirt with garfield on it, some baggy pj pants, and you knew if anyone were to see how you did now, they would be disgusted

you went and used the bathroom, then went to the kitchen to search for something to eat that wouldn't make you more nauseous but failed to do so 

the house was quiet, the only thing you could really hear was the birds chirping and cars passing outside. you stood there, enjoying the silence, sipping on your water

you headed back to your room in attempts to fall asleep again, but after tossing and turning for a good 10 minutes, you sat up with a huff

just as you resigned yourself to the rest of the day filled with solitude and sniffles, a knock echoed through the house. startled, you slowly made your way to the front door, your stuffy nose adding an extra layer of annoyance to your condition.

you looked through the peephole to see eddie standing there with a large brown bag in hand. he looked so good wearing his black sabbath t shirt and ripped black jeans, his white reeboks giving a pop of white.

you slowly opened the door, only leaving a little bit of it open to avoid him from fully seeing you. it’s not like you always wore tons of makeup, just enough to boost your confidence, and eddie had seen you completely without makeup only a handful of times, but you didn’t want him to see the horrific sight which was you with the worst cold

"eddie, what are you doing here?" you asked with a raspy voice

eddie flashed his trademark grin, holding up the bag in his hand. "since you're sick, i thought i could be of some assistance. i brought you some homemade chicken soup. wayne swears on it" he said sweetly

"thank you baby that's so sweet," you said with a smile, before furrowing your brows

“wait where did you get homemade chicken soup?” you asked and he blinked

“oh well technically it’s campbells… but it works just the same, i swear, scouts honor” he smiled, lifting three fingers

he started to walk in but you shut the door more

"i don't want to get you sick" you told him and he shook his head 

"i have the immune system of an ostrich!" he declared and you let out a giggle which turned into a nasty cough 

"oh baby," he said sympathetically, standing up the next stair to the doorway 

"c'mon let me take care of you please, just until your parents get home?" he asked with the sweetest tone

"eds i have to be honest, i look absolutely disgusting right now, i don't want you seeing me like this" your voice faded into a whisper

"y/n, i can promise you that nothing you do or have will make me less attracted to you, i love you in every conceivable way now can i please just come in and heat your soup up for you?” he begged, giving you puppy dog eyes

you slowly opened the door, revealing your sick state to eddie and he smiled, walking in to your house and immediately giving you a kiss on the forehead

“jesus you’re burning up” he said taken aback and you rolled your eyes

“no shit sherlock” you huffed as he walked into your kitchen

“well i guess the first symptom of this cold is hate” he joked with a smile and you shook your head at him, shutting the door

“so how come you were able to come here in the middle of the school day?” you questioned, leaning against the kitchen counter as he poured your soup from the can into a pot

“i just went to the nurses and told them i was feeling sick and apparently there’s something going around the school so they believed me and sent me home” eddie shrugged, turning up the heat on the stove

“so that’s what i got” you said, crossing your arms

“maybe” eddie said, eyes staying on the soup to make sure it didn’t boil over

“wait what did you mean you have the immune system of an ostrich?” you asked, realizing what he said earlier

“yeah they have one of the best immune systems, it’s a fact” he said nonchalantly and you laughed

“and how do you know what?” you asked as he turned off the stove

“well when i was growing up, wayne had the day shift and after school i’d go to the library to read before he’d come and pick me up, i learned it from some nature book” eddie smiled, and handed you the steaming hot bowl of soup

“thank you” you said, your stomach suddenly making countless noises and rumbling, since you hadn’t ate anything all day

you sat at your kitchen table and ate your soup, and eddie munched on a couple saltines you had from your cupboard

“yeah and luckily i had a test i didn’t study for at all for 7th period so i get more time to study” eddie said and you nodded, not really caring in that moment if you secretly knew you had to help him study because you were so hungry, the soup vanishing in front of you

“mhm” you mutter out, finishing the rest of the soup and chugging some water

“feel better?” eddie asked and you nodded. honestly you did. now that your stomach had shut up and power of chicken noddle soup was finally coming to fruition, you felt the tiredness loom back over you

you yawned and stretched your arms out and eddie could see the sudden drop in the little bit of energy you had earlier

“now back to bed young lady” he said in a not so stern voice and you listened, getting up with your bowl in hand and placing it in the sink

eddie followed you into your room and shut the door. you put some of the tissues that were discarded on the floor and put them in the trash, and then instantly cuddled into your sheets, pulling them around you

eddie took off his jacket and shoes, walking over to the other side of the bed

“ed’s what are you doing? i told you i don’t want you to get sick” you said, and he just smiled, taking off his pants and then crawling into the empty space next to you

“i don’t care sweetheart, all i care about is you feeling better and i know that you’ll sleep better with me here, it’s a fact” he said, pulling you in close

“oh really? did you learn that in your nature book as well?” you asked with a slight laugh and he kissed your head

“no, i just know you that well” he said, letting you lean your head against him

you felt the sleepiness wash over you like a wave on a beach, and you just let your eyes close, feeling eddie’s chest move against your back

you were a little jealous he could breathe through his nose without the annoyance of it being stuffy but you didn’t care because he was right, you do sleep better with him near

fin.

[bomberqueen17]

ow

lol so. i'm at home after the farm season right. i have so much writing i have been wanting to do, and i have succeeded at doing some of it! i had a brief "ah chicken season is over" hiatus before The Dread Deturkening, and spent that whole thing writing frantically, hence the solarpunk tall ships idea which is still in progress btw-- I did finally start a for real draft version to solicit feedback and now I realize a bunch of people's tumblr handles is not a great way to actually connect so i need to figure out how to do that-- which is beside the point of this post--

anyway. now that it's For Real Hiatus From Farm Season I'm trying to actually get my life in order and not succeeding very well.

Dude's company laid off a bunch of his team and therefore shut down the local office, so he, being the last man standing, had to go in and clear the space out. As part of that, his former desk is sitting in our garage, and I'm trying to clear out space for it in the basement. The basement is a black hole of fuckery because one year ago, some of you may remember, we had our kitchen remodeled, and we had contracted to do it in February but they called us the last week of November and said can we do it now instead, which sure but it meant I had to haul seventeen years' worth of stuff out of the kitchen into Literally Anywhere Else and then they needed me to clear out part of the basement erroneously believing they were putting in a new support pillar, which they weren't, but then they needed me to clear out a path to the back wall of the basement because the electricians needed to install a whole new panel there, so like, ok cool but it just meant a lot of things got haphazardly hauled from one corner of the basement to another in tremendous hurry with no time for keeping track of what's what. So that's a disaster and now's the time to fix it.

I have also been hauling some of it to the attic. I had been using the desk in the spare room for sewing on the days when Dude was working from his office. Since those days no longer happen, I have no access to those machines now, which are stacked in a corner. The basement is now too crowded for me to resume using the little space I'd carved out down there, so I have put some sewing stuff into the attic, which isn't insulated and is rather drafty now. But anyway. I'm rearranging a lot of things and can't make progress on any projects while that's happening.

I got a ton of reorganizing done on Monday evening in the basement (having spent the whole morning hauling shit out of dude's former office, which is now surrendered and locked and all set), and yet more Tuesday, and was hoping to finish it yesterday but Tuesday evening I fucked up my back, it felt all crunchy, and I was really worried until I woke up Wednesday in just torrents of gore, which I realized is my new perimenopausal normal-- I've started to realize that menstruation does fucky shit to all my connective tissues, so I shouldn't actually worry about my lower back destroying itself if it's also Cramp Time. So I spent yesterday absolutely immobile, dosed up on ibuprofen and just like that scene out of the Shining except wrapped in blankets and drinking herbal tea.

I also spent much of yesterday just. Unconscious? Which was weird. I don't know why I'm so fatigued but at least I'm sleeping.

(I also cleaned the oven. Do not recommend, especially not when one's lower back is doing mysterious rice krispie impressions.)

So today I was hoping to get back to work but I do feel like I've been beaten with sticks. Maybe instead I will finish working out how to get people who've expressed interest in beta-reading into a google doc.

A not so hilarious side note is that if I do not have a desk to sit at I have trouble organizing my thoughts?? IDK it's very weird but there are several tasks I need to do where I'll need to have my laptop and a sheet of paper in front of me I think, and my brain is like "illegal unless At Desk" and that's tough shit since I don't have a desk. I had started noticing it over the summer in the cabin where I also don't have a desk. How do I organize my thoughts if I can't Sit At A Desk to do it????? One would think I'd figure it out since i've spent most of my life without a desk of my very own, but. Not so far!!! Not currently.

Also a major thing my brain is Not Allowing me to do is finish preparing for Christmas. I'm not seeing family for Christmas, for the like tenth year in a row because every year we arrange to do it together my older sister fucking flakes out, and this year it was the off year but she flaked out of thanksgiving instead-- i'm not saying she doesn't flake out for good reasons, one of her kids was real sick and i'm not mad, but the fact remains, we're not seeing that bit of the family and she's not letting us make any contingency plans, so my brain is like Fine No Christmas Then and won't let me figure out what to get people for gifts and it is actually a problem because some of those people are kids and are expecting me to figure it out anyway.

argh.

my beloved godfather, my Type A mom's little underachieving alcoholic gay probably ADHD depressed college dropout brother, never was good at christmas presents for us kids either, and still managed to hold it together better than I am despite being in a relationship with a man who wouldn't allow him to tell us nieces about him and so he just showed up to all our family events and was my uncle's "friend" and we all figured it out anyway so there was no point hiding it from us but ugh they still did and i remember us at some point in the 90s, all us sisters sitting together ranging in age from high school down to elementary school and my older sister being like "we all know they're gay right" and us all being like "yeah why can't we just say it" and the oldest sister looking at me, who even then everybody knew was the gay one, and i was like "man i don't know" and we all just solemnly agreed to not mention it...

anyway

he did better than this but he died of lung cancer in '08 so I can't ask him how he managed it. (what i have in my favor is that my dad's side of the family gave me asthma so i never could have taken up smoking, so at least that won't kill me.)

He never got an ADHD diagnosis tho so I can't find out what meds he took. Well, he took whiskey, we know that. It didn't work though. and he wasn't really a loser, i've met so many people who knew and loved him now that i'm an adult and sometimes go around in the city where he lived. even now so many people remember him so fondly. and he bragged about us, his nieces, all the time, all these people know who i am as soon as i mention him. boy i miss him!!!

this is the miracle of the ADHD brain I was fretting about house cleaning and now i'm grieving my long-dead uncle, who of course I knew mostly through the lens of my mother who literally never understood him in the slightest.

[writing-whump]

Sensory overload

☕️-anon wished to see how Hector and Arnie were doing in the meantime, so here we go. A bit of Arnie and Hector plus Olive and some emeto.

Arnie found Hector glaring at his phone on the couch at 7 pm.

"I don't think you can make it bend to your will that way," Arnie said as he rubbed at his eyes.

Since Sunday he had trouble sleeping for some reason, waking up at 5 or 6 am although he was never a morning person. He would turn in bed for two hours, trying to get himself back to sleep, but to no avail. It left him tired and grumpy, cause he wanted to sleep but couldn't.

To compensate, he took frequent naps during the day, like the one he just woke up from. Probably worsening the problem by not being tired enough to sleep through the next morning again.

Hector grumbled something, leaning back with his coffee only for his eyes to return to the phone screen 10 seconds later.

"Who's not answering?"

Hector scoffed, like the name wasn't worth saying out loud. Arnie kept quiet and watched him until his older brother finally caved. "Isaiah."

"Oh? It's so rare for you to message him." Arnie sat down behind the table, still disoriented from sleep.

"Yeah. And just when I do he ignores me. Isn't it weird?"

"I told you he planned some special anniversary thing with Seline on Saturday. That's why we weren't meeting. And then she likely stayed over so he had his hands full over the weekend."

"It's Tuesday," Hector protested.

"It's summer break," Arnie reminded. "More busy with free time with his pack and stuff."

"That's why I..." Hector turned his head away to scowl at the twilight behind the window.

"What was that?" Arnie gave up on the table and went to sit down next to Hector instead, grabbing his untouched coffee from his hand. "Look, you have been super busy during the holidays. You work 25 hours from 24 each day or train or claim some new territories you don't need. Isaiah can't be waiting around for you to make time for him."

Arnie didn't mean himself at all when he said it. He felt more than a little neglected by Hector's constant 'work' excuses. It was his last holiday before starting university and Hector was nowhere to be found.

Hector growled at the cup being taken out of his hand but said nothing. "That's why I wanted...never mind."

Arnie took a sip and grimaced at the taste. No sugar. "Wanted what?"

Hector bared his teeth at no one in particular. "I thought we could plan a trip, okay?! Just the three of us. I'm fed up with the city, so I thought we could do mountain climbing or some shit in nature. And when I suggest it, he doesn't respond. Asshole."

Arnie sighed. "That's really nice, Hex. I'm sure he will like it once he sees it." The younger blond leaned back on the couch. "You know how Isaiah is with the phone detox thing. He likes to take breaks from screens and being available."

"It's the girl," Hector spit out angrily. "Just when we get him back he has to have a girlfriend and a new pack to piss me off."

Arnie rolled his eyes. "We are not losing him to Seline, come on."

"Women always destroy families. Especially brothers. And wolves."

"I'm sorry, how many experiences do you have with that?" Arnie said with a snort.

"Oh, not you too!" Hector crossed his arms on his chest, sliding farther away from him on the couch.

Arnie chuckled. Delaney and Hector's other closest wolves have been bringing it up from time to time now. That Hector should be looking for a partner soon, ideally a witch to cement his position as branch leader.

Everyone knew wolves couldn't rule alone. Stability came from relationships, from functioning compatibility. A leader should have a witch to lead with, to offer to the pack, to bring them all together.

Hector, who had zero interest in dating since Arnie could remember, saw this part as particularly annoying.

"So. You gonna be in this splendid mood for the rest of the evening or we putting on something on Netflix?" Arnie yawned, putting the coffee away.

Hector got up, pacing the living room. "Can't sit still. I'll go for a run."

"You gonna leave me here alone?" Arnie pouted. Free evening and Hector was gonna spend it away again?

"You can join me," Hector said with a knowing smirk.

Arnie groaned. Hector knew he was not very keen on exercise. Being around a superhuman you could never hope to keep up and who would never let you win even knowing this was rather demotivating.

"I thought so. Enjoy wasting your life on useless Netflix shit, I'm leaving."

Arnie huffed and slid down on the sofa into a more comfortable position. Agitated Hector needed the exercise to keep his shadow calm. It was for the best.

...........

If you looked for a piece of quite in a crowded city such as Vienna, school grounds were the safest bet during summer.

It was tiring for wolves to be this surrounded by humans, noise and scenes all the time. Hector felt like the proximity of the buildings got only smaller, squeezing the air out of him.

He needed open space. Nature. Something green with a free view of the sky and the horizon.

Hector ended up back at the university campus at the bench near the ditch he found Matthew passed out not that long ago.

Of course he wanted the campus for himself now. He spend so much of his time there because of the uni that it felt like a base to him.

It was surprisingly lively on the way to the Messe, lights and people coming and going like fireflies drawn to light of the giant exhibition building. None went through the dark space around the bench though, for which Hector was grateful.

Not until his name suddenly echoed through the whole park.

Olive pushed her way through the crowd, which was quite an achievement since she was so small. "Hector! I didn't expect to see you here!"

Hector shrugged. "Just passing by." It always fascinated him how happy Olive seemed whenever she saw him. Her whole face lit up, her smoky gray eyes so big like a doe's.

"Oh." She stopped at the bunch, a cute little pout to her mouth. "So you are not coming to the expo?" When he looked perplexed, she continued, "Illusion and light play exhibition! It's just here for a few weeks."

Ah. That explained the liveliness.

Olive shuffled her feet. She wore a white button-up that hugged her slightly chubby figure, an orange-red necktie, short black hair hidden under a red beanie, and bright red shoes. Hector internally shook his head. Artists had the weirdest tastes.

"Would you...like to come too? I have been there several times, I know the best parts!"

She got excited so easily about the smallest things. If an exhibition or a nice sunset or a collection of crayons could make him so happy...then again, why not? He was not managing to stop thinking about Isaiah's unread messages and he could use a break from thoughts about his duties and goals before they started turning in circles too much.

"Whatever." He got up to his feet, which made Olive almost bounce on her feet.

"You are going to love it!" She actually grabbed his arm, dragging him forward.

Hector blinked at the contact. He wasn't sure how he felt about her being so comfortable touching him. On some level, he suspected she didn't realize he was a wolf or who he was in that world, but he couldn't bring himself to tell her. It was amusing how relaxed she was, how she treated him with such friendliness. Was that normal with girls around guys?

Besides, it made him feel all smug he managed to throw people off his scent as a wolf. Managing this degree of control to not be recognized by the energy and danger wolves emitted or the thickness and reactiveness of their shadows was a point of pride for civilized wolves.

As they got inside and he automatically paid the ridiculously small tickets for them both, he wondered if there wasn't something else. Hector liked who he was. He was proud of who he was, and he never pretended to be anything else.

He was the Executioner's younger brother. He was Vincent Wolfson's son. He was the pack leader's nephew and chosen branch leader in a city as big as Vienna, in the heart of Western and Eastern Europe. Destined to achieve something big, to take over one day. That was his aim—he wasn't secretive about it.

But with Olive he was...just a guy. A stuck-up economy student who could be too blunt at times, but that she, for some reason, found amusing.

The exhibition's theme was the universe. There were seperate rooms projecting different light plays, from infinite space to exploding suns, kinetic installations, Milky ways changing colours, labyrinths of mirrors and light sculuptures.

Olive kept dragging him around, showing him her favorite pieces and projections, flooding him with background information and cool facts he didn't have the vocabulary to understand.

His eyes were beginning to hurt. The constant onslaught of lights that were actually everything but regular, the flashing patterns and ever-changing chaotic rooms...there were no points of reference. And worse, there were so many people—smashed together in an even tighter space, like a city, but smaller.

Hector felt a dull, throbbing headache building behind his temples. It reminded him of the subway, but worse. The lights were too much, the noise was too much. The rooms were spinning and turning, blending together and then spitting him out in confusing directions.

His stomach felt unsettled, waves of queasiness coming and going. Sweat was forming on his upper lip and at the back of his neck.

"O-Olive..." he blinked and screwed his eyes shut, stopping where he was, reaching with his hand in search of something solid. A wall or a door, something that wasn't moving.

"Hector? Hey, wait, what's wrong?"

"G-..." he gulped, his stomach feeling impossibly heavy. Heat went to his face and chest, intensifying the nausea. He gagged, slapping his hand against his mouth. "Get me out-"

He couldn't see in the confusion, the hall was too dark to contrast the effect of the rooms.

"Okay, just a second." A small hand closed around his. Hector squeezed it, maybe too tightly in his disorientation, mouth overflowing with saliva. Damn, he needed to sit down. The claustrophobic feeling was back and he gagged again, splash of acid against his throat.

Her small hand and trace of scent led the way and he let her, the only familiar focus point in the chaos of people and lights hurting his eyes. He crashed against the door on the way and cursed, but the pain of something solid against his side was a relief.

"Just a couple of steps," Olive said, tugging at his arm. "Almost there, I promise."

Hector unglued himself from the door with great difficulty, one more door coming up, when finally, finally he was hit with a wall of fresh air.

He gulped down on the semi-clean night wind greedily, panting to breathe against the nauseating sensation. Almost winning the round, if his stomach didn't cramp that moment and he groaned.

"Okay, okay, let's sit you down, okay?" Both of Olive's hands were wrapped around his arm, using all her weight and strength to steer him to the side of the entrance.

He couldn't tell where the bench was or where they were going. The ground was tilting again, all wrong and his knees buckled, sending him to the ground. Olive didn't let go, going down with him.

"I guess not. Okay, let's stay here, it's fine-"

Hector gagged, the world going deaf for a second and then retched as his dinner came out with a splash against the yellowed grass. At least it wasn't the pavement, that would have splattered more.

Olive was still under his arm, pressed into his side. Her hand snaked around his shoulders, tapping gently. "Feel better?" Her eyes were so wide again, glittering with concern.

"Sorry," he rasped. His body heaved with another retch but he fought it down. "Don't know what-"

"The lights. I'm sorry, I didn't know. The movement and lights can be overwhelming for more sensitive people-"

Hector scoffed, rocking up and down in attempt to catch his bearings. Why was he always throwing up around this girl? "I'm not sensitive."

"I didn't mean it like that," she said sharply, indignant now. "I mean, prone to motion sickness or with senses like shadow wolves. You can't say they are sensitive, can you? But there is even a warning at the entrance that it isn't good for them, cause there is a higher risk of sensory overload."

"Ah. That makes sense, then." He let himself fall back to sit on the ground properly, spreading his hands out. The world was still spinning, but it was slowing down a little.

Olive let go of him, kneeling at his side. "Huh?"

"I'm a shadow wolf too, Olive." Hector focused his eyes on her, wary of her reaction. "You really had no idea."

Her mouth made a little o, looking even more winded than he was. "Oh wow."

Hector cleared his throat. "So what? Scared of me now?" He shifted away. Normally, he enjoyed people being wary of him, of respecting his power, but the idea of Olive being scared of him wasn't appealing at all.

Maybe that was also one of the reasons he was in no hurry to correct her.

A flush crept up her face. "No, I'm not! I'm..."

"I wasn't hiding it, you know?"

"Right. The turf talk, and the people always behind your back. And how sick you felt at the subway...I just didn't...I never spoke to a wolf before. What does that- what does that mean now?" She covered her mouth with both hands. "Does that mean I was breaking all the rules of interaction? I'm sorry, I didn't know-"

Hector chuckled dryly, which turned into a cough and into another small gag. "Damn it."

Olive lifted herself up on her knees, gripping his shoulder. "You still feeling icky?"

Icky? What kind of word was that? He felt comforted by her unconscious touch though. On some level, he still didn't feel like a wolf to her. "Nah, almost good." He closed his eyes for a second, breathing through the sudden heat wave, letting out a loud burp against his hand before letting it fall to his side again.

"What does that mean for me?" Olive asked in a small voice. "You are not going to kidnap me or eat me or something, right?"

Hector had to laugh again. "No. That's not in our rules either." He looked at her hand on his biceps, realizing for the umpteenth time he didn't mind her touch as much as he should have. Not at all. Somehow she had touched herself into his shadow's graces and sense of space. "You don't have to follow any rules. Not with me. I'm too high up to mind," he reassured her.

She ducked her head, and when he tried to straighten up to catch her eye, he lost his balance and flopped right onto his back.

"Oh, so high up," she said with an involuntary giggle, leaning over him. "You okay?" Her hand climbed higher on his arm all the way to the top of his shoulder. "You are so sweaty."

"And dizzy," he admitted with a grimace. His arm shot up to grab onto her hand that was touching him. "A little warning, Olive. Wolves tend to think anything they are touching is theirs. You keep doing that," his eyes rose slowly over her arm to her body, "and I might forget how to let go."

Olive blushed even more, her round cheeks furiously red. Oh, he could get used to that expression.

Part 2

[phillippadgettwrites]

So. Any chance of a Dropped Call 3??

Dropped Call, Chapter 3

Rated X / 4743 words / posted on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

She thinks of it like a little toggle in her brain, like a switch. Or maybe more like a curtain that she can open and close at will. It’s something she developed as a teen, when her desire to remain pure of mind and body was in direct conflict with her desire to imagine what it might be like if Tommy Warner felt her up under her school uniform. Saturday night she’d stay up late discreetly discovering the hidden pleasure points between her legs, and then on Sunday morning she would simply flip the switch and go to Mass, her indiscretion so completely obscured behind her mental curtain that she felt no connection to Father Malone’s sermon on sins of the flesh. 

Over the years, she’s found many uses for this mental trick. In school, in jobs, in relationships, she avoids being overwhelmed by her own emotions by simply setting them aside, behind the curtain, and pretending as though they don’t exist. It doesn’t always work, but she’s found that the more intense the emotion is or the higher the stakes are, the more effectively she can ignore it, at least until she’s alone. In a psychology course at UMD she learned that the term for this strategy is compartmentalization, and that when done to excess it can become maladaptive. Rather than examine whether her own compartmentalization was doing her more harm than good, she stuck that behind the curtain, too. 

This whole bizarre situation with Mulder is taking up an increasingly large amount of space behind the curtain. So much space that she worries it could become uncontainable, that it could all burst through some Tuesday afternoon and ruin everything. She’s had to pull back on their friendship out of fear that the dam won’t hold, and the dichotomy of it all makes her feel like a stranger in her own life. She powers through each workday, counting down the hours until she can go home and stop using all her mental energy to hold the curtain closed. When she walks through her apartment door it hits her like a sneaker wave, and she spends the rest of the evening reading trashy romance novels, masturbating, or deep cleaning something just to keep herself distracted. 

The worst part of it is that it’s just so stupid. She knows that they both want the same thing, knows it with absolute certainty, and yet she’s too cowardly to let it happen. She can cross all kinds of boundaries with a phone line between them, but the second his physical form is proximal to hers, the curtain swings shut and her walls go up, and she truly doesn’t know how to stop it from happening. As it turns out, defense mechanisms aren’t entirely voluntary. 

It’s Friday, a week or so since their last sordid phone call, and Mulder is wearing his charcoal suit. He’s being excessively charming and she can’t stop smiling at him, despite her very best efforts not to. Not that she doesn’t want to smile and laugh with him, she very much does, but when he meets her eye and smiles at her like that, and she feels herself smiling back, the curtain strains against the weight of everything behind it and she begins to panic. 

“What are you up to this weekend?” he asks when she starts to pack up her things a few minutes before five. 

“Not much,” she says, not looking at him. “Grocery shopping. Maybe Mass with my mother.”

“Would it be okay if I gave you a call?”

She freezes. Mulder calls her all the time, near daily, and he’s never asked for permission to do so. The curtain bulges, threatening to split open, and she clears her throat. 

“Sure, that’s fine,” she says, her eyes still downcast. 

“Tonight?” His voice is so hopeful, and it makes her feel like shit. 

“Okay.”

She puts on her coat and slings her bag over her shoulder. Before leaving, she forces herself to look at him. 

“Have a good weekend,” she says with a polite little smile. 

Mulder’s eyes narrow in that way that means he’s psychoanalyzing her, his head tilted increments to the side. 

“Likewise,” he says, his tone unreadable. 

She escapes into the hallway, holding the curtain closed with both hands. 

Once inside her apartment, the weight of anticipation sits heavy in her pelvis and her ears tingle with the effort of listening for the phone. She changes into comfortable clothes and conveniently forgoes panties, barely registering the fact that she’s doing so to give herself easy access. 

He could call at any time. It could be in five minutes, or five hours. When 8:00 pm comes and goes she entertains the idea of just calling him instead, but she doesn’t have any room for that behind the curtain so she decides to wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. 

He finally calls at 8:57. 

“Hello?”

“Hey,” he says brightly. “Long time no talk.”

Is he being facetious since they just saw each other a few hours ago, or is he referring to the last time she played the role of Electra?

“It’s good to hear your voice,” she says, then makes a face at herself. Electra is supposed to be sexy, not sweet. 

“Ditto. What are you up to?”

She’s standing in the middle of her living room, piqued and nervous, but that’s probably not what he’s hoping to hear. 

“I’m…talking to you,” she says. “What are you doing?”

“Well,” he says with a sigh, “I have a bit of a conundrum.”

“Oh?” Scully paces slowly around her couch and coffee table. Where is he going to take this?

“I was hoping you could help me out,” he says. 

“Okay. What’s the conundrum?”

“Well, it’s about my partner,” he says. 

Scully sinks slowly down onto the couch. 

“Okay.”

She hears Mulder swallow thickly. 

“So I think,” he begins, “that she might be interested. That she might…share my feelings.”

Scully’s heart leaps and begins to pound against her ears. 

“That’s…that’s good news, right?” she says, reminding herself that she is Electra right now. 

“It is, absolutely. Phenomenal news,” he says emphatically. 

“So what’s the conundrum?”

“I think she’s too afraid to take the next step. I know she is, actually,” he says. She can hear the way the sunflower seeds in his mouth change the shape of his words, and she imagines him spending the hours leading up to this phone call munching on them and thinking about how to have this conversation. “And I think maybe she needs me to be the one to do that. But if I’m wrong, I run the risk of fucking things up between us.”

“That sounds difficult,” she says, her head spinning. 

“So what should I do?” he asks. 

Electra wants to answer the question, but Scully is frantically shoving things back behind the curtain, tugging at the edges in an attempt to keep it all hidden. 

“I think you’re right,” she blurts out, closing her eyes. “I think she does need you to be the one.”

There’s a beat of silence. 

“But should I wait?” he asks. “Maybe she’s not ready.”

“I imagine she’s as ready now as she’ll ever be,” she says, eyes still closed. The curtain is tearing right down the middle, the contents spilling out, and her stomach lurches. 

“Okay,” he says. “Thank you. I appreciate your help.”

Scully sits up, opening her eyes. Was that it?

“No problem.”

“Hey, can I call you right back?” Mulder says, his tone much lighter. 

“Sure, okay.”

Her heart pounds painfully hard in the roughly thirty seconds that she waits for him to call back. Maybe he’s going to call Scully this time. Maybe he’s going to put it all out in the open and force her hand. Even though it’s what she just told him he should do, she’s so terrified that she considers not answering. 

“Hello?”

“Hey, me again, sorry about that,” he says. 

So…she’s still Electra?

“It’s fine,” she says, then waits for him to speak. 

“I was hoping we could try something different,” he says. “Bit of a role reversal.”

“Um, okay,” she says, curious but worried. “What did you have in mind?

“I’ve told you about my fantasies.” A pause. “I’d like to hear about yours.” Her entire nervous system short circuits, and she briefly loses touch with reality. “Electra?”

“Yeah,” she sputters, shifting around on the couch uncomfortably. “I’m here. Is that…allowed?”

Mulder laughs nervously.  

“The arrangement is that I pay you to talk to me. There aren’t really rules beyond that.”

“Oh.” Her mind is going a million miles an hour trying to figure out how to sidestep this. “That’s, um…that’s quite private, though.”

“True. But I’d argue that you’ve been given unfettered access to my private thoughts, so it’s an equal exchange,” he reasons. 

She can tell that he won’t push much further. He knows her too well to do that. But he does have a point, and she still harbors some guilt for not stopping him when he shared his fantasy with her in that first phone call. 

“Yeah, that’s true,” she says. “What do you want to know?”

She senses his excitement, and she’s so conflicted between feeling excited herself and feeling terrified. There will be no coming back from this. The curtain is practically in tatters. 

“I would be ecstatic to hear literally anything you’re willing to share,” he says carefully, tempering his eagerness. 

Scully leafs through her mental file of fantasies, the ones she’s prone to revisit. Her cheeks get hot as she considers the idea of sharing any of them with Mulder, in no small part because he stars in every single one of them. But right now he’s talking to Electra, and Electra would be fantasizing about someone else. She finds an intact corner of the curtain and draws it up, separating herself from the situation. 

“We’re in my kitchen,” she says, jumping right into it. “We’ve just had dinner or something and we’re cleaning up. He’s helping me with the dishes.”

“Who is he?” Mulder interrupts. 

“He’s…a friend.”

“A close friend?”

“Yes. A best friend.” She can’t leave him to wonder if she’s talking about him. That feels too cruel. “A coworker,” she adds. 

“What does he look like?”

Scully lays back on the couch, propping her head on the armrest. She pictures Mulder earlier that day at work in his charcoal suit, smiling at her over his desk. 

“Tall. Dark features. Handsome.”

“You think so?”

She smiles and allows this brief break in their role play. 

“I do. Very much.”

“So you’re in the kitchen,” he prompts her.

“We’re in the kitchen and we’re kind of joking around, laughing. He’s teasing me, but not in an unkind way. And there’s a moment where he’s looking at me and smiling, and something passes between us. Moments like that happen all the time, but I always look away.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m afraid,” she admits. 

“Of what?”

She takes a moment to consider the question. As conflicted as she is when it comes to her relationship with Mulder, she’s never allowed herself to think too deeply about what exactly she’s conflicted about. 

“Of being hurt, I guess. Of being vulnerable.”

“You think he’d hurt you?” he asks, maybe a bit wounded. 

“Not intentionally,” she says. “But I think it could easily happen.”

She senses that he’d like to explore this line of thought, but that would completely derail the fantasy. She hears a beeping sound and then a soft thud. Maybe the microwave. Leave it to Mulder to get hungry at a time like this. 

“I’m sure he’d do everything possible to avoid that,” he says somberly. “So do you look away?”

“No,” she says, jumping back to the kitchen in her mind. “I don’t look away this time, and it becomes…intense. He steps closer and I realize he’s going to kiss me.”

“And you want him to?”

“Yes, very much. He kisses me and it’s sweet at first, but quickly becomes more…intense. Sorry, I can’t think of a different word to use.”

“Intense is a good word,” he says, encouraging her. 

His connection is a bit muffled, like the phone isn’t quite lined up correctly to his mouth. She wonders if he’s in bed, and what he’s doing.

“He picks me up and puts me on the counter, which makes things much easier because he’s quite a bit taller than me. And we just kiss for a while. I guess…I guess more accurately it would be making out.”

“Do you think he’s a good kisser?”

“Yes,” she answers immediately. 

“You’ve given this thought?”

“Yes,” she says again. 

“And then what?”

Scully swallows. This is where things go from PG-13 to explicit. 

“And then he pulls me down off the counter so I’m standing on the floor, and he turns me around.” Mulder is silent on the other end of the line. All she hears is a mechanical hum. “And he, um, he pulls my pants and underwear down. And then he sort of pushes me forward so I’m leaning over the counter.”

Her heart simply cannot take this. It’s been in overdrive so long she’s starting to sweat, and she’s lying completely still on the couch. 

“What does he do?” Mulder finally asks. 

“I think he’s going to…to take me from behind, but he doesn’t,” she says, her voice shaking. “He kneels on the floor behind me.”

“Tell me.” His voice is commanding, not pleading, and it’s effective. 

“He, um, he eats me out from behind. He makes me orgasm that way,” she says. 

She hears the rush of Mulder’s sharp inhale through the phone. 

“Is that where it ends?” he asks. 

She barely registers another set of beeps and another soft thud.

“No,” she continues. “After that he does take me from behind.”

“He fucks you?”

The sharpness of the word, from Mulder’s mouth, in reference to herself, makes her clit jump. Scully slides her free hand under the waist of her pants and swirls her middle finger around it languidly. 

“Yes,” she breathes. “He fucks me.”

“Do you come again?”

“Yes.”

“What about him?”

“He comes inside me.”

“You want him to?”

“I do.”

“Are you touching yourself?” he asks, his voice a near whisper.

“Yes,” she whispers back. 

“Open the door,” he says. 

“What?”

“Open the door.”

Her confusion gives way to horror as she recognizes the soft murmur of his voice in the hallway. She’s frozen in place, her hand down her pants and her widened eyes on her front door. 

“Mulder, what are you doing?” she hisses, pulling her hand out of her pants as she slips down to the floor and attempts to hide behind the couch. 

“Please let me in,” he implores, and she hears his voice in stereo. 

“I can’t,” she whimpers. 

It feels true. She feels physically incapable of walking to the door and allowing him to look at her after what she just told him. 

“Then I’m going to let myself in,” he says. 

He waits a beat to see if she’ll object, but she says nothing. She hears the scrape of his key in the lock and then the pop of the deadbolt. The door opens and she slowly stands up from behind the couch, the phone still pressed to her ear. 

He’s standing in her entryway, his cell phone in one hand and his keys in the other, wearing jeans and a white T-shirt. He catches her eye and holds it for a beat, and she pulls the phone away from her ear, breaking eye contact to end the call. And then she just stands there, shell-shocked, staring at the phone in her hands. 

She hears him slip off his shoes and pad across the room towards her. There’s nowhere for her to hide, physically or emotionally. The curtain is toast, and her fingers are coated in her own arousal, and Mulder is in her living room with full knowledge of what she wishes he would do to her. This is either the best or the worst moment of her adult life. She’s afraid to find out which. 

He takes the phone from her and sets it on the coffee table. Next she feels his hands on her jaw, forcing her to look up at him. She complies reluctantly, and a few seconds tick by as the familiar intensity builds. She sees in his face how much he wants this, wants her, and it reaches that point she can’t bear where she always looks away. Just when she can’t take it any longer, when she’s about to avert her eyes to the fireplace, he kisses her. 

At first it’s sweet. He presses his soft lips against hers again and again, a series of firm but chaste kisses that begin to devolve when she opens her mouth and he runs his tongue across the inside of her upper lip. He’s bent down and she’s on the tips of her toes, and it feels like she just can’t get close enough. 

She squeals with surprise when her feet fly out from beneath her and Mulder tosses her down on the couch, quickly covering her body with his own. Their height difference compensated for, he kisses her deeply and intensely, and he is every bit as skilled at kissing as she imagined him to be. His hips are tucked between her open legs, and the more they kiss the smaller the gap between their bodies grows until she feels the hard ridge of his erection press against her clit. She whimpers into his open mouth, and he pulls back a little to look at her. 

“Do you want this?” he asks breathlessly, and she nods. “You’ll tell me if you want me to stop?” She nods again. 

He shifts his body to the side to free up one of his hands, then resumes kissing her. His hand drifts up under her shirt, and she feels like she could come just from the knowledge that he’s going to touch her, that this is happening. He kneads her breast, gently pinches her nipple, all the while grinding against her hip. It feels so deliciously forbidden, like they’re two teenagers necking in a basement, until his hand slides down her belly and under the waist of her pants. 

He pauses, giving her time to adjust or object. She just keeps kissing him as his fingers comb through her pubic hair and then trace the seam of one leg, and then the other. She remembers his fantasy, and she shifts one of her legs to the side to let him know she’s ready. That she wants it. 

“Jesus christ,” he mumbles against her mouth when his fingers slide down her slick lips. 

His touch, his words, his presence, have her on the edge already. 

“Mulder,” she breathes out. “I—”

He pushes a finger inside her and she gasps as her cunt squeezes it tightly. 

“Oh, Scully,” he says, grinding against her with his face tucked into the crook of her neck. “You need this.”

She can’t stop it. She’s coming with hardly any warning, with hardly any effort on his part, and with such intensity that she stops breathing. Mulder whispers things to her that she will recall later and blush, gently fucking her with his fingers all the while. It is absolute euphoria, and she’s so high on dopamine that she can’t bother feeling embarrassed for being so easy. 

Mulder slips his hand out of her pants and she turns her body so that they are face to face, somehow both wedged onto her tiny couch. She runs her fingers through his hair and then cradles his jaw, and he watches her face with awe. 

“That was unexpected,” she says quietly, and a grin breaks out over his face. “Thanks for coming over,” she adds, averting her eyes to his mouth. 

His smile suddenly falls. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he says, and she lifts her eyes back to his. 

“I know,” she says, and then she kisses him. 

The kissing goes on for a delightfully long while, and she finds that she very much enjoys the way that Mulder kisses. At the realization that she has the long awaited opportunity to get her hands on the everpresent bulge in his pants, she runs her palm firmly over the front of his jeans, and he groans. 

“You don’t have to do that,” he says, extremely unconvincingly. 

“What if I want to?” she asks. 

She feels him lurch under her palm. 

“Then I’d say we probably need to take this party to the bedroom,” he says tightly. 

They scramble off the couch, and he walks her backwards into her bedroom as he works her shirt off over her head. He removes his shirt as well, and they stand at the foot of her bed, his fingers tucked under the waist of her pants. A lamp in the living room is still on, but the bedroom is dark, giving them enough light to see without feeling exposed. 

“I can’t help but notice that you’re not wearing panties,” he says, and she feels herself blushing. 

“They just get in the way,” she admits shyly, and he makes a little sound that’s somewhere between a whine and a moan. 

“Can I take these off?” he asks, and she nods. 

She feels his eyes on her, but he’s very respectful. He doesn’t stand back to gawk at her or say anything lewd, he just kisses her face, the tops of her shoulders, anything he can reach without sitting down. Before he does so for the sake of getting his mouth on her breasts, she pops the button on his fly and he sucks in a breath. 

“Easy, loaded weapon,” he quips. 

“I’d be a hypocrite to judge you,” she points out. 

“That’s, uh, not quite the same,” he says as she lowers his fly and slips her fingers under his boxers at his hips. “But I appreciate the sentiment.”

She pushes his jeans and boxers halfway down his thighs and then wraps her hand around his cock. Her eyebrows shoot up, and that’s before she runs her palm over the length of him. 

“You know that I hate to inflate your ego,” she says, sliding her hand down to cup his balls, “but color me impressed.”

He chuckles and it dissolves into a groan. He sits heavily on the end of the bed, tugging her down with him, and she climbs into his lap. His cock brushes against her clit and she sucks in a shuddering breath. 

“What do you want?” he asks, steadying her with his hands on her naked hips while he works his feet the rest of the way out of his jeans. 

“...I don’t know,” she says, which is a lie. 

“You don’t know, or you don’t want to say?” he asks, reading her mind as always. 

She reaches between them and takes hold of his cock. 

“I want this,” she whispers, feeling like she might burst into flames. 

They start kissing again and she’s still stroking him, brushing him over her clit. She pushes up onto her knees a little and drags the head down over her lips and across her opening. She’s obscenely wet and Mulder is making all kinds of greedy, hungry noises: groaning and humming, grabbing at her ass and sucking on her breasts. He’s right there, and they both want this, and when she presses the head of him against her cunt and he starts to sink in, the energy in the room shifts. 

“Oh, shhhhhhhhhhit,” he groans, his breathing suddenly ragged. 

She feels proud, and sexy, and powerful as he stretches her open inch by inch. It hurts a little, but not near enough for her to even consider stopping. They’re both panting like they’ve exerted themselves and they’re only just getting started. 

She lifts her hips again and sinks back down before she’s even managed to take him in all the way; she just can’t wait any longer. He has one hand on her hip, the other braced against the mattress behind him to keep them from toppling over, and his hips are eagerly flexing up to meet her. Each time she lowers herself back down she takes in a bit more of his length, until they are pressed tightly together and she feels the poke of his pubic hair against her swollen lips. 

She stills and immediately he’s kissing her, sucking at her lips and humming noisily. She loves the sounds he’s making and how eager he is, how openly enthusiastic. God, she wants to make him come. Wants to feel him throbbing inside her, running out of her. 

She starts to shift her hips forward and back, slipping him tightly in and out and running his shaft across her clit on each downstroke. 

“Fuck,” he says under his breath. “You feel…incredible.”

His compliment goes straight to her cunt and she flutters around him, making him moan. 

“I’m gonna come,” she whispers shyly against his mouth. 

“Shit, you’re gonna make me come,” he says harshly, like this is bad news. 

But the idea of him coming inside her is enough to send her over the edge. She digs her fingernails into the back of his neck and presses her forehead against his as she clamps down on him, her mouth open and her eyes squeezed shut. 

“Oh my god,” she wails as a tsunami of pleasure crashes over her, sweeping her out to sea. 

Mulder lets loose a stream of obscenities and she feels a hot rush deep in her belly. She rides him roughly as it just keeps coming and coming, and he falls backwards onto the bed, taking her down with him. He keeps thrusting up into her from below, and the wet slosh of both of them is almost embarrassing, had she the faculties for embarrassment. He finally becomes too soft to continue thrusting and there is a second hot rush when he slips out of her. 

She collapses against him, her cheek pressed to his sweat-damp chest, and waits for the inevitable surge of shame and regret, even though she knows it’s not shameful and she certainly doesn’t regret it. Without warning, Mulder wraps his arms around her and rolls her to the side, which does nothing to contain the mess between her legs. He hovers over her, searching her face, knowing her well enough to predict that she’ll struggle in the immediate aftermath. 

“You okay?” he asks, trailing the back of his knuckle across her cheek. 

She gives him a weak smile and nods, though tears are pooling in her eyes. She’s not even sure why. 

“Please don’t take my demeanor as an indication of anything,” she says, touching his waist. “It’s not about you, I just…this is difficult for me.”

“I know,” he says. “Take as much time as you need.”

She nods, waiting for the tightness in her throat to subside before she tries to speak again. 

“I’m sure Electa doesn’t require this much emotional maintenance,” she jokes, swiping a finger under her eye to clear a way a tear before it has a chance to fall. 

Mulder smiles at her and sighs. 

“I haven’t called her in weeks, just so you know,” he says. “And I don’t plan to.”

“You can call whoever you want, Mulder, I have no right to an opinion on it,” she says quickly, panicking at the idea that he feels beholden to her. 

He rests his head on her chest just above her breast and curls up around her, which feels a bit backwards but also feels very nice. She strokes his hair and he splays his hand out over the scar on her belly, and they are quiet for a beat. 

“I’d like you to have a right to an opinion on it,” he says suddenly, quietly, and it takes her a moment to follow. 

“...You would?”

“Doesn’t have to be right away, but yes.”

“Okay,” she says. 

He doesn’t ask what that okay means, which she’s grateful for because she doesn’t really know. And even though she’s not brave enough to ask him to stay over, he seems to know that she wants him to, and he stays. She has absolutely no idea what she’s doing, but she trusts that they’ll figure it out together, like they always do. 

[barbwritesstuff]

barb i bought a southern book club's guide to slaying vampires around this time last year and just never got to it, but i finally cracked it open on friday and finished it this morning (tuesday) and holy shit it was amazing!!! its been a minute since the plot of a book gnawed that hard on my brain when i wasnt reading it!!!!

I know! It's so... I don't even know the word. Gnawed is good. That's how I felt after reading it. Gnawed on. It's so creepy and weird and visceral and violent. I also just love that the housewives aren't treated as a joke (by the narrative, their loser husbands and the vampire certainly do think of these women as a joke... to their folly). I also like that the main characters have some actual intense flaws that they have to overcome.

A great book.

[subtle-as-an-earthquake]

So I know this post is pretty overdue and a bit superfluous by this point maybe, but since I am now back home and finally have time to sit down and write down my thoughts about the last few days, I thought I'd still do a recap post of my experience of the Dublin shows (and a bit about my trip to Dublin in general). Just for anyone who might be interested or even just for me to remember everything by!

Having said that though, I don’t actually know how to even begin putting into words what this trip meant to me 🥺 I’ve said this before, but after seeing them in June and thinking that was it for the foreseeable future, getting to see them again so soon, twice, and it being the very last two shows of the tour as well, felt like an incredible opportunity and huge gift and I could not be more grateful for it ❤️

Recap of Dublin shows 3 & 4 and some more pics below the cut!

I flew in from Amsterdam on Tuesday morning with a Dutch friend, and we met up with another friend of mine who flew in from London at the same time (my London friend went with me to Tuesday's gig, and my Amsterdam friend to Thursday's gig)

London friend and I then headed to the 3Arena to queue up outside and it was fucking freezing lmao. But we played ‘guess the Arctic Monkeys song from the intro’ and had a chance to catch up so all in all it wasn’t too bad, and it’s always so much fun being surrounded by fellow arctic monkeys fans who love them enough to queue up for hours in the cold <3

Once we were inside, we legged it to the stage and then spent another two hours trying to defend our (pretty good, very central) spots and trying not to think about the fact that we had to pee, as you do. We happened to be standing next to a group of Dutch speaking girls, and it turned out one of them had also met Miles in Amsterdam recently, at the same signing I’d been at! Such a small world. But they were really lovely so the two hours flew past, and then it was Miles time!!!!! 🥰

And my god, he literally blew everyone away, he was just insanely good as always. My friend was not really a Miles fan before the gig, and then while he was playing, she kept going “holy shit minnie he’s so good??” and I was like “TOLD YOU”, so now she’s a big fan as well, which is honestly very satisfying 😌 There were so many amazing moments during his set, but the one that stayed with me most I’ve already talked about in this post. It was honestly just…. very intense and really hard to explain in a non-shippy way? Even my non-shipper friend was like… hmm ok yes, that seems very significant 🤔

But anyway, Miles rocked the house, and then it was only a short wait until the main show. And while most of it is a blur because I just lose my mind when I see my boys play, I did make sure to really absorb some special moments and things I really wanted to remember. Being able to clearly see Alex’s intense, goofy and beautiful facial expressions, his HANDS, the cute little interactions he had with the rest of the band (giggles with Matt and smiley asides with Jamie and Nick), the moment where Alex made grabby hands at the plushie and then laughed some more when he couldn’t have it, Jamie being an absolute rockstar as always, Nick looking like a total snack (my friend has a giant crush on Nick, understandably so), Matt being a literal drum god (I love seeing him play SO much). Just... incredible 🙌🏻💘

I really wasn’t expecting Miles to join them during that show, so when Alex gave him a shoutout I knew it was just that, but my friend didn’t, so she started hitting me like “he’s coming back!” and I was like “no he’s not”, and he wasn’t unfortunately lmao. The Dutch and Belgian girls next to me were extremely disappointed (they were Milex shippers as well, of course), but I know at least one of them was there on Thursday as well so I love that for her. Other memorable moments were Alex singing the “remember when you used to be a rascal” line followed by “do you remember? I remember” after which I yelled at my friend “Miles used to be a rascal!!!” and then later I found out Miles was actually on that side of the stage 😭😭 Even though I didn’t find out about that until later, I definitely noticed that Alex kept gesturing towards that side of the stage (the Star Treatment intermezzo was wild, I was like, “WHO is he pointing at for the dolls like you and me thing??” And then it turned out to be Miles 🫠

Another thing I noticed was that the average age of the crowd was way lower than I’m used to it being, which my friend explained may have something to do with tiktok? Lmao idk, hut the the standing crowd did mostly consist of younger, shorter girls for some reason lol, so there wasn’t as much jumping as I’d have liked there to be. My friend and I just went for it regardless, even if we were some of the only people going crazy. But you just have to, you know what I mean? Anyway, it was such an incredible show and after it ended, we were just on cloud nine, singing Fluorescent Adolescent with everyone on the Luas going back to town, which is always just such a blast. And then we ended up in Temple Bar where there was more live music as well as about 500 other Arctic Monkeys fans, so that was great fun too 💫

The next day, the three of us went to a tattoo shop where I’d booked an appointment and I got my tattoo which I am EXTREMELY happy with. The tattoo artist was a girl from Brazil and when she asked me about the meaning of my tattoo (I’ll post a pic later) I told her it was an Arctic Monkeys song and the just yelled across the shop to a few other artists and it turned out they’d been at the concert too, so we all geeked out about them while I got my tattoo done lmao, so much fun 😂

Then my London friend unfortunately had to fly back home later that day, so my Amsterdam friend and I ended up in the pub again because that’s what we do. It was just a very average pub with two very average men playing amazing folk music, and when we walked in, I was like “huh that guy looks like Zackery Michael, that’s funny.” And then later I was stood next to him at the bar and heard he was American, so I was like hmmm, and decided to just ask him if he was in fact Zackery Michael. He was like “that is me!” lol (thank god, would’ve been embarrassing if it hadn’t been) so we had a little chat about the fact that we were both in town for Arctic Monkeys but in slightly different capacities lol, and he was just super nice and was happy to take a photo with me, and then I let him get back to his conversation with the three extremely pretty girls he was with 😅

Anyways, so then on Thursday after breakfast we bought some souvenirs and I bought some great Arctic Monkeys mini posters and some other stuff at this lovely little comic book/record store which was playing Humbug, the owner of which told us he also went to see Arctic Monkeys on Tuesday and loved them, so that was another amazing chance meeting 💜 And then it was after 12pm so it was time for whiskey, and then the meeting with the fellow TLSP/Arctic Monkeys/Miles Kane fan bartender happened which I posted about here, which was so lovely and also secretly made me want to believe it was a sign for the show that night 🙈

But I still couldn’t let myself hope or believe TOO much, so I just kept telling my friend “they’re not going to do it and that’s okay” and she was like “sure, whatever you say” 😂 We had seated tickets for this gig, so we were unfortunately much further away than I had been on Tuesday. And also I just don’t like being seated at concerts, let alone an Arctic Monkeys one, but to be honest, the seats were pretty good. Miles once again gave his absolute all and converted not just my Dutch friend as well, but also a lot of the people around us who we overheard saying things like “did you know he was this good??” and checking Miles’s Wikipedia page, which was great to see. And from up on the balcony we could clearly see that the people in the crowd were really singing along and having an amazing time during Miles’s set (COTT was extremely emotional, all the lights were so lovely ✨️) and I just felt so proud of him and happy for him that it was such a roaring success 🥹💖

The roaring success continued for Arctic Monkeys of course, although it was really weird to see so many people go mental for Snap Out Of It and Arabella etc. 😅 But yeah, the people do love AM it seems, which is why the first part of the setlist was pretty much the same as it had been on Tuesday. Hello You was amazing though!! And then after There’d Better Be a Mirrorball, I knew that it was 505 time, and Alex did say ‘Let’s hear it for Miles Kane’. But because it was the same thing he’d said before, I was still convinced Miles wouldn’t come on. AND THEN HE DID 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 I absolutely lost my shit, not even kidding. I just started screaming and threw my phone at my poor friend being like “FILM IT” which she did, bless her heart, and uhhh, yeah then I cried throughout the whole performance 😭 And then at the end, the lights went out and I saw their shadows (our shadow puppets <3) coming together so I was like did they hug??? And then I only found out later that evening when I checked tumblr that they in fact did hug and then my night was just completely made (lol, I say my night but I mean my life, obviously)

Do I Wanna Know was a total blur after that of course, but I was back for Body Paint which was absolutely incredible as always. And then they did Big Ideas as the encore and uuhhh yeah I sobbed 🙃 It was SO beautiful, and so special hearing it live with the strings, and SO fucking sad. And then once RU Mine? finished and the lights stayed off, I was like aaahhh we’re getting one more!! And then OF COURSE it was Perfect Sense because Alex is a dramatic bastard, and of course I cried some more. It was stunning and extremely emotional 💔

So then my friend and I went to drown my sorrows (and elation about the Milex reunion) in the pub and we actually had a great time with some fellow AM fans and live music again. I swear it was like all of Dublin was just there for Arctic Monkeys. Unfortunately, we were not in the pub where the boys apparently went ugh, but still, it was fun. And yesterday morning I woke up with a killer hangover so I swore I would not drink anymore, but it was raining so much, so we did end up in the pub again where we got talking to some really cool Irish guys who (surprise) also loved Arctic Monkeys, and they insisted on buying us drinks so obviously I couldn’t decline. So we just sat and drank with them until we had to catch our flight, and of course by that time I was tipsy and maudlin and the weather wasn’t helping so I cried all the way to the airport (especially since we passed the arena again) and then I cried some more in the airport like the drama queen I am 🥲

It’s just that I’m so sad it’s over, and so scared and worried about the future of the band, with how much this felt like a goodbye 😔 But I’m just going to assume that it’s just goodbye for now, and that they’ll take a well-deserved break, maybe do their own things for a while, and that in a few years’ time they’ll get back to making music together again. I really do think they have so much fun doing what they do together, and they’re basically like family, and Alex wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he couldn’t make music, so surely they’ll be back eventually. But please, just don’t be too long boys 🥺🙏🏻❤️

All in all, though, what has stayed with me most from this trip is a sense of gratefulness that I was lucky enough to experience all this, my 8th and 9th Arctic Monkeys gigs to date, the last dates of the tour, the Milex reunion (!!!!!!!) and to get to share it with two of my best friends in the world, a whole bunch of arctic monkeys loving strangers who I randomly met, and all of you guys I’ve met on here these past few months. The sense of connection and community I’ve found through this band means so much to me, more than I can say, actually, and I’m so grateful to them for that, in addition to the music they’ve given us. And although the tour is over, I am honestly looking forward to sharing the love we have for them with you all for a long time to come and for now, I am so excited about getting back to writing my silly little Milex stories (and insanely happy they finally gave us that little reunion we hope for, so that I’m still excited and hopeful about their relationship rather than heartbroken and resigned, which is what I probably would’ve been if they hadn’t performed together. So thank you for that, boys 💘)

So yes. Very, VERY long story short: Arctic Monkeys is and always will be my favourite band in the world, they ended the tour on an absolute high (and with Miles!) and this was an experience I will never, ever forget ❤️