#I don’t listen to a lotta celebrities

[verdantachillean]

“Ah yes, I know who Sabrina Carpenter is”

Suddenly a small kids ominous chant comes from far beyond the horizon

“Liar Liar pants on fire”

My pants suddenly catch on fire and it spreads quickly, completely engulfing me

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

The Laws of Attraction (Lawyer!Higurnami x Law Student!Reader 18+ One Shot)

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Black!Fem!Reader x Hiromi Higuruma

Synopsis: You are a law school senior and intern juggling schoolwork and your job who attends your firm’s anniversary party one night. While there, Higuruma Hiromi and Nanami Kento, your bosses and the two sexy attorneys you’re secretly attracted to, help you celebrate your final grades and receiving a brand new position at their firm….just not in the way that they should. But who cares about what’s right or wrong when it feels so good?

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Black-coded!Fem!Reader; Lawyers!Nanami x Higuruma; Law Student/Intern!Reader; Eye-Fucking; Secret Crush; Mutual Pining; Threesome; Coworkers to Lovers; Mild Power Play; Lowkey Flirting; Office Sex; CMNF; Dual Cunnilingus; Deepthroating; Doggystyle Over Desk; Spitroast; Facefucking; Dom/sub Undertones; Throatpie; Cum On Ass; Sneaky Sex; Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: I’ve had this idea rolling around in my head for DAYS now. I’m so happy I’m finally able to share it after finally writing it. I hope y’all enjoy! KISSES!! 💋💋 -Jazz

**********

You know that a second glass of champagne probably isn’t logical or practical.

But if you have to listen to your fellow intern and total preppy asshole drone on about his vacation stories, you’ll definitely blow your brains out.

You stand in a small circle with the other interns that started with you last year for the internship program. The firm has one that stretches all year long, starting in the spring and ending in the winter. You’ve known these people for months now and while you like some, there are others than you’d gladly avoid.

Like the preppy exchange student from Upstate New York who came to Japan to study abroad. Of course, he’s standing beside you in his Armani student, buzzed off of his second beer and oozing arrogance and ignorance. “My friends wanted to go to Bora Bora again, but I always found Bora Bora to be sooo overhyped,” he groans. “That’s why we went to Hawaii. It was cheaper.”

He takes a sip of his beer, dripping some down his tie. You don’t warn him. ”I heard Hawaiians didn’t want tourists anymore,” Yuki points out, standing next to you. “Something about them pushing natives out of their homes because of construction.”

She sips on her champagne and eyes you as she does it. You fight the urge to smile. “Well, that didn’t kick me out,” the exchange student chuckles. “I had a ball! Lotta beer on the beach and a lot of girls too.” He turns to you now, your worst fear coming true. “You ever been to Hawaii, Y/N?”

You force yourself to turn towards the young, blonde jock who only came to work here because his father has connections in the legal system as a hotshot judge in New York. As a young, Black woman, you worked your ass off to get into this program and into law school. As you can imagine, juggling both is a damn job in itself.

You purposely kept quiet for half of the night to avoid exerting energy in boring conversations, but to avoid dissociating for the fifth time tonight, you fix your mouth into a smile. “No, but I prefer Costa Rica. The water is prettier. Excuse me, I’m gonna fill myself up.”

Quickly, you excuse yourself from the group and walk over to the alcohol table located on the other side of the gorgeous ballroom. “Oh, pass me another beer if they got one,” the jock suggests. “We can share, if you want. I know you like a good beer too.” He gives you a lopsided smile that’s supposed to get you hot and bothered like it has to all of the other girls he’s screwed.

You stifle the urge to vomit and give him a tight lipped smile before quickly walking off…or as quickly as you can in your Jimmy Choo heels. Your friend and roommate forced you into them, telling you that only these shoes brought out your skin and meshed with your slim, strapless, black dress.

You will admit that you feel the sexiest you’ve ever felt in it. Even when you tried it on and had your friend tie the strings behind your neck to hold the slinky article of clothing up, you felt like the baddest bitch walking. As soon as you walked into the ballroom, you caught eyes….just not the eyes you truly want.

As you walk across the ballroom, nodding and smiling at guests (lawyers, politicians, city officials, etc.), you admire the beautiful decor of the room. The decorators rearranged cushioned furniture, added gorgeous white flowers as centerpieces, and polished the marbled floor so much that you can see yourself in it. The scent of cinnamon and cloves drift through the air along with the bitter winter breeze pouring in from outside as people come and go for cigarette breaks.

They truly went all out for this anniversary party.

Your firm is located on the sixth floor of a twelve-story building in downtown Tokyo, specifically in the business district. Every weekday you catch the train at 7AM with fellow bright-eyed, bushy-tailed workers in their uniforms and weary, hungover students preparing for an 8AM course. You’ve always loved the hustle and bustle of the city; the constant activity; the sense of determination and purpose in the air when you do your eight-minute route to the train station to work.

Maybe that’s why you decided to take the internship offer when you were picked last spring. You were a law student, a senior-to-be, in need of a legal position that would give you more experience and had a decent pay. Your job as a waitress could only do so much. After you were interviewed by the program director, she set you up for another interview with the attorney you would be working for. When you realized that you would be interviewed by two attorneys instead of one, you thought it was some kind of mistake.

But you were reassured by the director that Kento Nanami and Hiromi Higuruma, the top attorneys at their firm, wanted you specifically. “They picked you out from ten other candidates,” she gushed to you over the phone. “They’re so impressed with your resume and our interview notes.”

You smile to yourself as you take another glass of champagne. You can’t believe that this was twelve months ago. Now if you can only snag a full time position here and ace your final exams so you can graduate next spring, your life will be complete.

Yuki appears beside you, dressed in a red dress and wearing her blonde locks in waves. ”He likes you,” she giggles. You roll your eyes beneath your full lashes. “I could give less of a fuck,” you mutter. “I felt like shovin’ a cupcake in his mouth to shut him up.” Yuki laughs despite your deadass statement. “So where’s your date tonight?” she asks. “Since preppy white jocks don’t float your boat.”

No man floats your boat nowadays, it seems. Not when you’re in law school. What guy would want a girl who stresses over essays and exams every other week? “Well, my roomie has a cold and couldn’t come,” you explain. “I wanted to stay, but she forced me to put on this dress and come.”

“And it’s a damn good thing she did!” Yuki scoffs. “You look amazing!” You smile shyly, feeling your cheeks flush. “And I’d rather you be here celebrating the 10th year of the firm with me than at home. Intern or not, you’re a part of this team too, Y/N.”

Though Yuki’s words are sweet, you’d much rather be at home with your roommate watching Netflix in your sweatshirt and booty shorts, shoveling ice cream down your throat and maybe popping an edible to ignore the impending anxiety of your exam scores tonight.

Anything than being a room with a bunch of preppy folks and pretending to be interested in anything they have to say. But you got yourself into your pretty gown for two important reasons: one because this party is a good distraction from your incoming grades and two, you’re waiting for two guests in particular to show up. Your bosses…or as your friend would call them, your sexy lawyer baes, Nanami and Higuruma.

These are two names that pop up often at your firm and in the legal world. As two Harvard graduates and prominent lawyers in business and corporate law, they were among the original ten lawyers who started out at the firm when it was still very small and upcoming. Now expansive and holding over a hundred attorneys, Nanami and Higuruma are still the top in the game in their thirties.

They are intelligent. They are virtuous. They are calm, cool, and collected when needed in the court. And they are also fine. As. Fuck.

And you know all of this because you work underneath them and have been for over twelve months as an intern. You never knew why they hired you to personally work for them, but you jumped at the chance to take the offer when it was given to you after your one-on-two interview with them.

As unapproachable and cool they seem, the two lawyers are pretty lenient with you. They allow you to use their shared office to do your work, they work around your class schedule, and don’t make you work overtime. Most of your duties are fetching coffee for them in the mornings from the lobby cafe, editing and proofreading documents, delivering files to different departments, and drafting papers.

They truly make it easy for you. They aren’t hard or difficult like a lot of other lawyers in your firm who run their assistants ragged. They answer all of your questions and push you to give your all. “But remember to rest,” Nanami always tells you. “Burnout is a killer.” He is the softest of the two and a true sweetheart at heart.

Higuruma is more of the sterner one, always giving you constructive criticism with any underlayer of encouragement. He has a dry humor that reminds you of a boring dad and has you giggling while you’re doing your work. The two lawyers bounce off of one another, having disagreements and arguments but always coming together to win a case.

They are truly a duo made in heaven, especially in the looks department. It isn’t a surprise to you that the entire firm has their eyes on them as handsome as they are—soft-looking lips, firm stares, and eyes that make your blood run hot. Your dreams are often filled with hot visions of doing very nasty things with Higuruma’s nose and stroking Nanami’s cheekbones with your fingers.

As far as you know, they’re single and unmarried, but things can change. Not to mention that you’re their intern! There is a very clear line that you don’t cross at a job and that includes not fucking your bosses.

No matter how sexy they are in their suits, or how intoxicating their cologne is, or how you wish to feel their big hands on you, you can never ever destroy the work relationship you have with them and fuck up your entire life. Besides, how else are you going to get a job here when you graduate law school?

So you disguise your interest in them as kindness and shove your horiness away, never acting on your attractions to them. But sometimes, you do think that the feeling is mutual. Just in November before your final exams, your bosses graciously offered to help you study. You were studying from your self-made study guide over lunch with them in their office. You had five classes during your fall semester you had final exams for: four tests and one paper due the same week you took your tests.

“Well, I can tutor you for the tests,” Higuruma said, taking a peak at your guide. “Clearly, you need someone to break this shit down for you and test you.”

“And make sure you don’t completely blow your top over your grammar,” Nanami added, referring to your paper. “I was a 4.0 in Harvard, don’t you know?” As usual, you laughed. They always knew how to take your head out of your work with their teasing and dry humor.

That month, the three of you would meet during lunch and work. Higuruma would time you on definitions for legal terms, answering open-ended questions, and knowing which court does what. Nanami, in contrast, would take a look at your final paper and make alterations, highlighting anything that needed to be edited and giving suggestions.

It was the most help you got in your three years of law school. And unfortunately, it made you fall deeper for them. You weren’t even planning to attend the firm’s tenth anniversary party, but when you found out Higuruma and Nanami were attending through an invite to your work email, you knew you had to show up.

You smile at Yuki now, raising your champagne glass. “Well, cheers to that,” you giggle and clink your glass with hers. “You’re sweet, Yuki. Definitely makes this whole environment worth it.” The two of you giggle to each other and gossip about the other guests as you sip champagne and much on veggie sticks from the snack table.

At some point during your third glass, you hear a buzz come from your purse. Your heart skips a bit and you race to fish it out, thinkin that it may be Nanami or Higuruma texting you that they’ve finally arrived. But when you see that it’s your Canvas notification, your stomach drops.

Suddenly, the champagne tastes sour and all of the sounds of the party sound muffled like you’re underwater. All of your grades are in, including your final paper. You swallow hard as you stare at your phone screen, your vision becoming fuzzy. You feel like you’re about to faint. Oh, where are Nanami and Higuruma when you need them?

“…Y/N?” You turn to Yuki as if you just realized that she’s standing there. “Sorry, what?” You dumbly ask.

“They finally brought out the chocolate fountain!” She announces, pointing excitedly at the fountain bubbling chocolate fondue just a few feet away. “Let’s get some before we have to fight off the entire party.” You force a smile and wave her off, trying to hide your oncoming anxiety attack the best you can. “You go ahead. I need to powder my nose first.”

It’s enough to make Yuki agree, telling her that she’ll get you a plate. Once she’s strutting off in her heels, you make a beeline for the bathroom located down the hallway from the ballroom. You move as quickly as possible in your heels, scrolling for your friend’s contact at the same time. By the time you reach the bathroom, you feel like you’re about to throw up.

You barrel through the door, sighing in relief when you find it empty. Quickly, you shut the door and will your friend to answer the phone, gripping the sink for support. You feel as if your knees are about to buckle from the anxiety you feel bubbling inside of you. “Pick up, pick up, pick up,” you mutter. Finally, your friend does, coughing into the phone. “What’s up, babe?” she crokes out. “Did your lawyer baes come yet?”

“No, but my grades just came back and I’m in the bathroom so I don’t have a panic attack, but I am having a panic attack.” You face yourself in the mirror. You thought you looked so pretty with your Fenty Beauty foundation, plumping gloss, and long lashes framing your gold eyeshadow. But now? All you see is anxiousness.

“Okay, relax,” your bestie soothingly says. Only she knows the stress you’ve been under for three years. “Breathe. Tell yourself your affirmations. I already know you did amazing, Y/N. You already know that too. You studied your ass off, remember?”

You do. You had to. Only you have the power to make all three of these years of constant stress mean something. You need that degree. “Yeah,” you exhale before inhaling again. You do that a couple of times, egged on by your friend who tells you how smart and determined you are. Finally, you feel like you’re ready. “Here I go…I’m opening them now.”

You put the call on speaker, but your friend is silent as you shakily open the Canvas app. You check each one of your final grades, your heart damn near exploding one after the other. All high scores. Three As and one B. “Oh, my God,” you gasp.

“What?” your friend urges. “What’d you get?”

You nearly drop your phone as your body trembles from excitement and relief. “I passed,” you whisper. Then again, louder this time: “I passed!” you squeal. “I fucking passed!” You feel tears prick your eyes and you have to rapidly blink to keep from ruining your mascara.

You can’t believe it. You’re done! You’re going to graduate law school next spring! “Congratulations, girl!” your friend cheers. “I knew you could do it! Now go out there, turn the fuck up, and celebrate with your lawyer baes.”

You scoff, taking some tissue to tab at your cheeks and temple. “For the last time, they’re not my baes or boos or boyfriends.” She swears that Higuruma and Nanami are your future husbands. “Not yet!” she argues. “You just wait till they see you lookin’ fine as fuck in your dress and next thing you know, you’re going home with one of ‘em…or both!”

“Goodbye, you perv,” you giggle. “Thank you. I love you.” Your friend bids you farewell and tells you to text her later before you end the call. You take a moment to check yourself out in the mirror, admiring the bad bitch in your reflection.

Finally, you put your phone away and strut back to the party, feeling like you’re the sun and the moon. You feel sexy, exuberant, and like you’re on top of the fucking world. Nothing and nobody can get in your way.

You suddenly bump right into someone’s back, causing you to stumble. “Oh, excuse me!” you gasp. “I’m sorry, I didn’t…” Your words die in your throat when the stranger turns, revealing himself as your favorite handsome blonde attorney. Nanami is usually in suits for work, but this one is especially tailored. “Ms. L/N,” he says in his smooth, eargasmic voice. “I didn’t expect to bump into you so early tonight.”

You gape at him, unable to speak. You’re at a loss for words. Just then, before you can look any dumber, Higuruma appears with two champagne glasses in hand. He, too, is in a designer suit and red bottom shoes, looking so sexy that it should be illegal. “Oh, there you are. We were actually looking for you.”

His tired-looking brown eyes scale down your outfit. “That’s…some dress. You look nice.” Maybe you imagine it, but his cheeks look pinker in the light. Nanami clears his throat and awkwardly pushes up his framed glasses, snatching one glass from Higuruma and taking a sip.

”T-Thank you,” you stammer, finally finding your voice. You spot a passing waiter on your left with a tray and snatch a glass from it. You’ll need it. You clear your throat, conjuring that bad bitch from the bathroom. “U-Um, I’m actually glad you’re both here. I was looking for you too.”

The lawyers’ brows raise expectantly. “Oh?” Higuruma asks. “Why is that?” You break out into a smile, unable to contain your joy. “I got my grades back for my exams!” you excitedly announce. “All As and Bs!” You fish your phone out of your clutch and shove the screen into your bosses’ faces. “See for yourselves,” you proudly giggle.

Nanami takes your phone and peers down at it, squinting into the blue light. When he sees your grades, a slow smile creeps across his face that gives you butterflies. “Let me see,” Higuruma mumbles, snatching your phone from Nanami.

He mutters to himself, something he always does when reading. You find it so endearing. When he finishes, he scoffs in surprise. “Well, damn,” he huffs. “This is impressive, Y/N. You really locked in as the kids say these days.”

“You’re not that old, Higuruma,” Nanami scoffs, snatching your phone back and handing it to you. “Nice job, Ms. L/N. We’ll have to celebrate.” The two lawyers smile at you like you’re the best thing in the world. You feel it. Standing with them, you feel as if nothing can touch you.

Higuruma raises his glass, a small smile playing on his lips. “A toast to good grades and an even better future.” You all raise your glasses and clink them before taking a sip. You can already feel the effects of the champagne taking over. You feel bubbly and light as a feather. Beautiful and carefree. Sexy, even. Very dangerous.

“Thank you,” you happily sigh. “I wouldn’t have been able to do it without your help with the studying. I really appreciate you both for doing that.” The lawyers look happy hearing that kind of praise and gratitude from you. “Well, you can thank us by helping us make it through this party,” Higuruma sighs. “After all, we need to show our law school graduate around to all of these fine, fun folk.”

He looks around the room, looking like he’s thinking anything but nice things about the guests. You snort to yourself. “Don’t we, Nanami?” he asks, smirking at the blonde. Nanami sighs to himself, looking absolutely done with being here. “I barely even want to be here. I almost want to be back in traffic.”

He turns to you now, a small smile playing on his lips. “But hearing about your grades makes it worth it all.” If only he could know how that makes you feel. The butterflies in your stomach have gone haywire.

You swallow, feeling the confidence of the champagne taking over. “W-Well, maybe next spring when I graduate, you both can come to the ceremony,” you nervously suggest. “It’s only right since you’re my bosses and mentors.” You give them a shy smile, peering up at them through your lashes.

The two lawyers look at each other blankly and then back at you. “Mentors?” Higuruma parrots. “We’re your mentors?”

Immediately, your confidence slips. “Well, you did help me study and you’ve shown me so much about the legal system. I look up to the both of you.” You bite your bottom lip, feeling as if you’ve said too much. You’re moving too fast. You’re overdoing it! “I-I’m sorry I assumed—“

“Don’t apologize,” Nanami firmly interrupts. His eyes are all aglow with a quiet passion you’ve never seen before. “We’d be honored to be your mentors…if that’s what you want.” Higuruma looks just as interested in the position, looking ready to drop everything and sign up.

You feel a big, dumb smile split across your face, giddy and joyful. “Then I’d be honored to call you my mentors,” you giggle. “Let’s toast to that too!” You raise your glass to clink with theirs, leading to another joint sip. You open your mouth to say more, to keep them standing here with you, but everyone at the party is just as excited to see the two attorneys as you are.

“Oh, there they are!” someone announces. You turn, finding one of the firm’s oldest lawyers walking over to Nanami and Higuruma. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you two! C’mon, the chairman wants to see you.” He practically drags them away, blabbering on about the many guests here who want to meet them.

You watch them leave just as they turn to give you one last look, an apology in their gazes. You feel an immense pang of disappointment inside of you and you feel stupid for feeling that way. It’s a party! This is their job! Of course, they need to mingle and talk to other important people.

Yuki luckily comes to your rescue, strutting over to you with more snacks. “Oh, Y/N!” she exclaims, taking your hand. “There you are! Come here, you have to try these white chocolate raspberry bars before they’re gone!” She drags you off in a different direction from Nanami and Higuruma, widening the gap between you.

For the next hour, the party wears on like this: you on your side and your bosses on the other, all of you stuck being pulled in directions other than each other’s. You watch as they chat with chairmen and CEOs; attorneys and paralegals; city officials and policemen. It’s honestly annoying…probably because of the champagne you drink.

With every passing minute, you sip a bit more, feeling even lighter and riskier than your first glass. You’re pretty sure you’re on about four ½ glasses at this point, so much so that you start seeing things. You believe you feel Nanami’s eyes on your ass from across the room or Higuruma’s gaze straying away from a guest to check you out. Your risky, reckless behavior makes you smile at them from across the party, not realizing how flirty it may come off to them or someone else watching. But the idea of that doesn’t embarrass or mortify you. In fact, it turns you on.

But nothing even comes from it. You never find your way over to your lawyers. Disappointed, sleepy, and exhausted from walking around in heels, you decide to give your dogs and the alcohol a break. You go up to the bar situated on the left hand side of the ballroom and take a seat on one of the stools, ordering a club soda.

“That’s the easiest thing I’ve made all night!” the bartender exclaims, making you laugh. “God bless you!” After they finish whipping up your drink, you’re in the middle of a few needed sips when someone sits next to you. You turn, finding a young man in a suit that looks like Tom Hiddlestone and Timothy Chatlane had a baby.

The wavy-haired man in his suit smiles at you. “Your Nanami and Higuruma’s paralegal, right?” he asks. You shake your head. “Intern. Not a paralegal…yet.”

He nods, chuckling at your humor. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around the office before. I would’ve remembered a face like yours.” His tone is flirtatious and you pick up on it immediately. Usually, you’d disregard and ignore this, but tonight? You may just play along.

“Possibly,” you reply, lowering your soda. “I have one of those faces.” Feeling particularly chatty, you put a hand out for a shake. “I’m Y/N,” you blurt. “I’m an intern for the law firm on the sixth floor.” The man races to shake your hand, hanging on for longer than necessary. His palm is sweaty. “Ah, yes, the law interns,” he chuckles. “I’m Mark, an associate for an accounting firm. I’m up on the eighth.”

He flashes a pearly white smile that is probably supposed to make you swoon. “That explains why we haven’t seen each other,” you giggle. He laughs with you and you decide that he’s cute enough to waste time on at the party.

“Maybe this party is good for something then,” he flirtatiously says, his smile turning suggestive. “I was plannin’ on leaving soon ‘cause this crowd is dead, but you just might make me wanna stay.” And just like that, he pops the bubble on your fantasy plan. “Oh” is all you can say.

No doubt he is trying to get into your pants…or rather under your dress. You turn to sip your water in silence, trying to think of something to say to let him down easy. “Are you here with someone?” he asks and his hand goes crawling to yours again.

Now you really need to think of something fast. “Um” is all you can get out before a shadow descends upon you and him. You both turn to find Nanami standing there. “Oh, sorry, am I interrupting, Mark?” he asks. He sounds apologetic, but you can tell he isn’t by the firm set of his lips.

The attorney beside you gives your boss a lop-sided smile. “Just my drink,” he jokes as the bartender passes him a whiskey. “To what do I owe the pleasure, Mr. Nanami?” He cocks his head to the side, drunk and cocky. “Sorry to cut in, but I need to steal Y/N away for a moment,” Nanami explains before turning to you. “We hate to do this now, but since you’re here, we’d like to plan out the schedule ahead of the holidays.”

“Oh!” you exclaim, your brain already switching into work mode. “Um…yeah, sure, of course.” You turn to Mark who looks less than pleased about being cockblocked. “It was nice meeting you, Mark. I’ll see you on the seventh floor one day.” The attorney only gives you a smile and side-eyes Nanami as you leave with him.

In silence, you two head to the elevators and Nanami presses the up button. You aren’t too sure why he and Higuruma are doing this now during a party, but you’ll wait to find out. When the elevator comes, Nanami lets you inside first and then follows behind you. When the doors close, you become hyper aware of him standing so close next to you. You can smell his cologne—spicy and musky like cinnamon. It makes your body react in very nasty ways.

“You won’t be seeing him,” he says. You blink, your fuzzy brain almost not catching that. “What?” you ask.

He turns to you, his eyes firm. “You won’t be seeing him,” he repeats. “Not to gossip, but the man is known to stick his dick where he makes his business. He’s slept with half of his department and a lot of his clients.”

You almost forget who the hell he is talking about until you remember (of course!) Mark. “Damn,” you scoff. “Well, thank you for the save…not that I was planning on sleeping with him or anything. He’s not my type.” You immediately flush, hot with shame and embarrassment. You shouldn’t have said any of that. ‘Fuck that champagne,’ you think.

However, Nanami silently chuckles to himself, finding it funny. But still, you beat yourself up. At least until you get to your floor. Nanami and Higuruma share an office space, their offices separated by a door where one can easily enter one room and exit the other. Nanami’s office consists of tan furniture, a plush couch where you often do your work, and his book collection while Higuruma’s office is all dark colors, polished Mahogany wood, and a mini bar. Some things they do share though are private bathrooms, personal thermostats, and a beautiful view of the skyline.

You walk down the hallway to the office with Nanami and enter his, finding Higuruma already there. “Took you two long enough,” he grumbles. Nanami’s office is dark, only lit by the full moon coating the floor in silver and illuminating Higuruma’s manly, handsome features.

Suddenly, your heart begins to pound. “S-So where’s the schedule?” you stammer. Nanami shuts the door behind you and walks up to stand beside Higuruma. “There is no schedule,” he confesses. “Sorry to bring you up here so randomly, but we didn’t want to do this in front of everyone.”

You scowl, confused. “Do what?” you ask, looking between them. The two give each other a look before Higuruma provides you with an envelope from under his suit jacket. “To give you this.”

You stare at the envelope, even more confused. Tentatively, you take it and look at them, unsure. “Open it,” Higuruma silently says with his eyes. Swallowing hard, you take a millisecond to mentally prepare yourself for what will be in the envelope and tear it open like you would a bandaid.

A folded letter flutters to your feet and you pick it up to read it. “On behalf of [the firm] and the departments of business and financial law, we would like to offer you a full time position as a legal assistant in the spring of 2025. Signed…” Your eyes grow big at the signatures. “Kento Nanami and Hiyomi Higuruma,” you exhale.

The two handsome men standing before you smile while you’re busy trying to resist the urge to pinch yourself. You have to be dreaming! You’ve gotta be! “Y-You’re offering me a job?” you softly ask. Higuruma smirks. “You don’t miss much, do you?”

Nanami nudges his partner in the arm. “We’ve noticed the work you’ve been putting in for us all these twelve months. Don’t think your hard work went unappreciated, Y/N. You’ve helped us a lot, even without us telling you, and for that, this is what we have to offer.” His gaze is soft, intimate. “This is just to get your foot in the door. Of course, you don’t have to stay forever and we’ll help you study for the BAR if you want to take it.”

Higuruma doesn’t add on, but he doesn’t have to. He, too, gazes down at you like everything Nanami is saying is true. You look down at the letter and then back up at them. “I….I don’t know what to say.” Higuruma’s smirk widens. “Say you’ll take the job.”

Finally, you break into a humongous smile and you jump up and down. “Yes!” you squeal. “Yes, yes, I’ll take it! Thank you both so much!” You go to toss yourself at them for a hug, but you make one misstep and nearly trip. You gasp, trying to find your footing.

Quickly, Nanami hooks his arm around your midsection, securing you in his arms. “Careful!” he exclaims, catching you. “That would’ve been nasty.” You should just tell him thank you and leave the comfort of his arms. You should just take the L now and leave before things get bad.

But you don’t. You make the mistake of staring up into his inviting eyes and soft, pink lips. His eyes gaze down to your mouth, his pupils dilating as if he sees something he likes…wants even. He leans down and so do you, and suddenly your lips are on his as you stand in the comfort of his embrace.

The kiss is short and gentle, but it’s sweet enough to steal your breath away. It is a kiss fit for a Disney movie ending. But just as soon as it happens, it ends and you both pull away, stunned. “Whoa,” he exhales.

Yes, whoa. Whoa, that was the best kiss you’ve ever had. Whoa, you just kissed your boss. Immediately, you jump back as if burned and over your mouth. “Oh, God,” you gasp. “I-I’m so sorry. I…oh, God.” You begin to shake, your eyes welling with tears. Regret and shame instantly fill you.

Higuruma steps forward, placing a hand on your shoulder. Nanami tries to come near you too, his gaze soft. “Y/N,” he softly says. You quickly side-step him and step away from Higuruma’s touch. “I have to go,” you sob. “I can’t be here. I shouldn’t be here.” You begin to panic, dropping the job acceptance letter in the process. You don’t try to pick it up.

“Wait, Y/N,” Nanami pleads. “Stay. It’s okay.” He walks toward you like you’re a wounded animal, gingerly and slowly. “No, it’s not!” you whimper. “I can’t believe I did this! I’m gonna ruin everything now! I-I—“

A hand grasps yours and pulls you close into his big, warm body. “Sweetheart, calm down,” Nanami soothingly says. “It’s okay.” He wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. There, you begin to cry, big, fat tears rolling down your cheeks and ruining your makeup. “It’s okay,” Nanami murmurs into your ear.

At the sound of his voice, you look up into his eyes and see that they are hooded and soft. Affectionate. When he leans in again, you don’t pull away. You let him kiss you, slow and deep, your lips moving in perfect tandem with each other. It is almost as if your lips are meant to kiss. Nanami’s big hand cups your face, tilting your head slightly to the side to meld your mouths together, earning a soft moan out of you. His hands slide down to your ass, caressing the bump made underneath your dress from it.

From the back, you feel Higuruma presses himself against you, his big hands sliding across your naked lower back and shoulders. His touch electrifies you. So do his kisses. When he begins to kiss your neck and shoulders, you pull away from Nanami, gasping. “H-Hang on,” you stutter.

He stops, his hands still on you. Questions flare in his hooded, brown eyes. “Tell us what you want, Y/N,” he says, his voice strained. “Tell us to stop and we swear to God, we’ll stop.” Nanami pauses too, slight pants leaving his lips. You want to apologize, to tell them that this isn’t right or proper or appropriate to do. This is so, so wrong.

But as you stand here in the dark sandwiched between your bosses, you’ve also never felt more right. “Keep going,” you softly beg. The lawyers descend upon you immediately, kissing, touching, and grinding their hips into you. You feel their hardened cocks press against your groin and your ass, giving you a taste of how you’re making them feel…and have made them feel for months now.

“We wanted this for so long,” Higuruma whispers into your neck. “You have no fuckin’ idea, Y/N.” His thick lips press down your spine, peppering your skin in wet kisses. “You don’t know how many times I wanted to pull your ass aside and do this to you.”

“So many times,” Nanami growls, his hands sliding up to your hips to indulge in them. “You make it so hard to control myself, darling.” You’re feeling the last of your self-control slipping, the pleasure too much to handle. You moan at every touch and kiss, loving that you can feel their defined muscles through their suits.

“Take it off,” you whisper and motion to your dress. The lawyers share a surprised look with each other that quickly melts into lust and need. “You tell us if you want us to stop, you understand?” Higuruma sternly asks. You nod, but that isn’t enough. “Words,” he states. “Give me your words. Speak up.”

Your nipples harden at his firm tone, loving how he puts you so effortlessly in your place. “Yes, sir,” you reply, the words feeling so natural to you. Higuruma sharply inhales, greatly affected by this. He quickly snatches one string out of the perfectly-tied knot at your neck, loosening your dress in one single act. The front slips off of you, revealing your hardened brown nipples and ass only covered by a black thong.

“Shit,” Nanami exhales while Higuruma chuckles. “So that’s why that ass looked so good tonight,” he murmurs, taking a handful of it for himself. “You should be forbidden from wearin’ dresses and pencil skirts around us, y’know. You make it very hard to concentrate on much.”

One of his big hands glides down your asscheeks to slide between your inner thighs. “But you know that, don’t you?” he whispers. His thick fingers slide against the wet cloth of your thong while Nanami feasts on your tits, molding and massaging them while his lips coat your nipples in saliva. “Oh, fuck,” you moan, tilting your head back at their ministrations.

“Naughty little thing,” Higuruma tuts, still rubbing you. “You’re so fuckin’ wet. You must’ve needed this from us, hm?” He presses his fingers up, rubbing your clit in circular motions. Your moans grow louder, leading Nanami to capture them with his mouth.

“You need to quiet down, baby,” Higuruma says, humored. “You’ll have the entire party comin’ up to see why our good little intern is makin’ so much noise.” Nanami pulls away to hold your chin, forcing you to look at him. “I bet she wants that,” he whispers. “Bet she wants everyone to know what she’s doing to us.”

“I’m sure they do,” Higuruma chuckles. “This ain’t the first time we’ve walked around the office hard as rocks for her.” He rubs you a little harder, making you bite your lip at the sensations. Jealous, Nanami glares at his partner. “That’s enough, Hiromi,” he growls. “You need to share. You’re not the only one here.”

Higuruma glares back, but allows the blonde to take over. You watch with shaky breath as Nanami slowly kneels down, staring up at you as he does. “I wanna taste you,” he confesses. “I wanna make you feel good. Will you let me?” Delirious from the foreplay, you nod and in an instant, your leg is hiked over his shoulder and he is sloppily French kissing your pussy.

“Now look who’s bein’ fuckin’ greedy,” Higuruma growls, impatient. “I need a taste too. Scoot over.” “We’re both gonna tongue fuck that pussy now,” he whispers. “When you need to cum, you let yourself do it, got it?”

Once again, you gush at the tone of his voice, much to Nanami’s enjoyment. “Y-Yes, sir,” you whimper. Then all words cease to exist when Higuruma kneels behind you. For the next couple of minutes, your world is blinded by pleasure as you receive dual cunnilingus from your two bosses. “Oh, shiiiit!” you groan, grasping Nanami’s head and Higuruma’s hand on your hip just to hold onto something.

You feel as if you’re on a rollercoaster, getting pulled this way and that, your stomach fluttering from the bumpy ride and the rush. Your stomach flutters and your heart pounds with every grip of Higuruma’s hands on your ass holding you steady; every lap of Nanami’s tongue against your clit. Higuruma is busy sliding his tongue along your slit, his nose rubbing against your ass…which feels oddly good too!

Everything they do feels good. Your juices and their spit collide, mixing together and making everything way more stimulating and sensitive than normal. You grip Nanami’s blonde hair, pushing him closer to your clit, your breathing coming out in huffs. You can feel that knot in your core tightening the more your lawyers lick, lap, and suck at your sloppy, juicy little pussy, drinking away as if they’re both starving for you.

You don’t realize how loud you are until you hear yourself moaning throughout the empty office. “O-Oh, fuck!” you wail. “I’m gonna cum! You’re gonna make me—“

“Wait,” Higuruma hisses, suddenly shooting a hand up to cover your mouth. He stands up so fast that he scares the shit out of you, almost as if he teleported. “I hear footsteps.” Your heart explodes in your chest and Nanami immediately stops his pussy-eating to listen too.

There, outside in the hallway, you hear footsteps and muffled laughter. Neither one of you moves or even breathes, standing still as statues in the dark. Luckily, the voices and footsteps disappear when a door opens and closes, leaving you in silence once more. Higuruma looks down at Nanami, still shaken but also very horn. “Let’s get her on the desk,” he suggests, his gaze lustful. “She needs somethin’ for that mouth if she won’t shut the fuck up.”

A smile that you’ve never seen before grows on Nanami’s face, his glasses foggy and nearly falling off of his face. Quickly, he stands and scoops you up without a word, wrapping your legs around his waist. You squeak as you’re picked up, your heels dangling from around his hips. He is fast transporting you from the floor to the desk that is luckily free of any files or papers.

Nanami places you on his desk and takes off his glasses before proceeding to duck between your thighs. As he begins lapping at your cunt again, Higuruma comes over to your side, his groin at eye level. Ziiiiip goes his fly and out comes his big, thick, hard cock. Your body and pussy throb at the sight of him.

He stares down at you, lustful and demanding. “Open your mouth for me, baby,” he demands, taking off his suit jacket. “Put those pretty lips on me.” He rapidly begins uncuffing his sleeves and unbuttoning his top, revealing his mouthwateringly broad, hairy chest you want to nuzzle. You do as he says and wrap a hand around him to stroke him as you wrap your lips around his shaft.

Higuruma smiles…and he barely does that, so you must be doing a good job. “That’s it,” he groans. “Such a fuckin’ slut for me.” He wraps a hand in your hair and pulls you closer as he uses his other hand to pull his pants down farther, exposing his firm, plump ass. You become handsy, using one hand to feel up his body and delicious happy trail while you use the other to run your fingers through Nanami’s blonde locks.

You feel like a princess and a slut all at once, receiving the best of both worlds. Finally, that urge to release comes again and you whimper and slobber all over Higuruma’s cock as you get close. “Cum for me, darling,” Nanami groans into your pussy. “Do as you’re told. Cum all over my fuckin’ face right now.”

With a high-pitched squeal, you do, leaking and creaming all over Nanami’s tongue. He greedily laps you up as you write and shake on his desk, much to Higuruma’s enjoyment. He loves watching you ride out your orgasm with his dick in your luscious mouth, but fuck, is he jealous watching Nanami eat you out. “Don’t be greedy, Nanami,” he growls. “Give me some.”

Nanami rises from between your thighs, his hair a mess and his lips coated in you. Higuruma grabs him from the back of his neck and smashes their lips together. Right in front of you. You gape at them, shook and totally confused as they sloppily kiss, swapping spit and your cum between their mouths.

You had no idea they had a “thing” going on, but then again, you wouldn’t think you’d know. Nanami and Higuruma are very private people. But shit, is it hot to see them make out in front of you for only your eyes only.

When they pull away, Higuruma smirks down at you. “Look at this naughty girl gettin’ off to us,” he snorts. “You won’t go tellin’ people about us, right, baby?” You shake your head as best as you can with his cock still sliding in and out of your mouth, making him groan at the vibrations.

Nanami watches, quickly stripping off his jacket and shirt to expose his beautiful muscles and chest pebbled in fine, blonde hair. “I can’t fuckin’ take much more,” he huffs. “I need to fuck you now or I’ll lose my mind.” He begins toying with your tits, massaging one while Higuruma plays with the other. “Tell me you want that too. Tell me what you want, Y/N.”

Higuruma pinches one of your nipples, causing your mouth to open wide on a gasp and his big cock to slip out. “Need you,” you gasp out. “Both of you. I don’t care how! Please just fuck me!” You’ve never been so fucking horny in your life. You feel as if you’ll die if you don’t cum again now.

The two lawyers look at each other, both contemplating how to maneuver this as if you’re a case they can’t quite figure out how to win. “You go first,” Higuruma suggests. “I wanna fuck her throat a little more.” Nanami doesn’t need to be told twice, his eyes molten with lust. “Bend over,” he demands and you do, assuming the position.

The two groan at the sight of your plump ass exposed over Nanami’s desk, your heels still on. They both give your ass an open-palmed smack, making you gasp at the pleasurable sting. “So good at taking orders,” Nanami murmurs in your ear. “I like that. That’s what good girls do.” He gives your cheek a peck before finally, he slides his cock against your pussy and slowly slides himself inside of you.

You both gasp at the sensations, your pussy walls squeezing around him as they become accommodated to his size. He is thick and long, making you feel so full and so stretched. Nanami murmurs sweet nothings in your ear as he coaxes you to rub your clit, making you wetter. Once you’re finally relaxed is when he proceeds to grab your hips and fuck your shit up.

His desk shakes slightly as he pistons into you, his hips slamming into your ass, causing the sound of skin slapping against skin to echo throughout the room. Your moans and cries are loud and clear, possibly audible even to the party. “Fuck!” you loudly moan. “Oh, my God, yes!”

Another cock slaps against your mouth and slides in, not stopping until it is in your throat. “Uh-uh, baby,” Higuruma chuckles. “Too loud. Little slut just can’t help herself, can she, Nanami?” His partner is too busy ramming your cunt to answer, doing his best to hold back his moans and gasps.

Higuruma snorts. “Neither can you, apparently.” Nanami glares at him, silently telling him to fuck off as he presses his front into your back, pushing himself deeper. “Push back on me, darling. Fuck me back.” You do as he orders, tossing your ass back into him and pushing yourself farther onto his wonderful cock. “Good girl!” he moans. “Needed this for so long. Needed you so bad.”

He murmurs and babbles into your shoulder, suckling on it as he pounds into your wet heat over and over again. It doesn’t take you long for you to feel the urge to cum again as Nanami’s balls slap against your needy clit, stimulating you further. “M’cwumming!” you whine around Higuruma’s cock just as that second intense wave washes over you.

“Good girl,” Nanami grunts, holding your shaking body close as your pussy walls grip and stroke him. “Such a good, good girl for me.” He slows his pace but continues to fuck you, edging you and making your orgasm last even longer. Your head feels dizzy and your thighs are slick with cum, but they’re not done yet.

“Let’s switch,” Nanami tells Higuruma. “I need to feel her mouth.” Higuruma looks ready to fuck a hole in a wall with the wild look he has in his eyes. They slowly pull out of you and switch spots, Higuruma now behind you while Nanami is in front. Just as quickly as they switched, they slide back into your holes again.

“Shit, baby,” Higuruma hisses, gripping your hips in his big, calloused hands. “You’re so fuckin’ wet. I can get so deep.” His hand wraps around your throat while Nanami fucks it, groaning at its tightness. “You want it deeper, don’t you?” he teasingly asks. “You want me to fuck this pussy till it cums again?”

“Mmm-hmm!” you desperately whine. Nothing sounds better to you right now. You are drunk off of the pleasure and these two sexy men, needing their cocks and cum like you need air to breathe.

The two begin to fuck you in tandem with each other, one pulling out while the other pushes in, filling up one of your holes. You have never loved being used before, feeling like an office slut for them. Maybe this can be one of your duties—sucking and fucking them when they are stressed at work. Wouldn’t that be so nice? Your body certainly thinks so.

Higuruma’s heavy balls slap against your clit as he pistons into you, making the desk shake. “Fuck, baby!”he grunts. “You’re gonna make me cum soon.” Nanami lets out an agreeable moan, fucking your throat. “M-Me too,” he stammers. “You’re gonna be our good little assistant and take our cum for us, darling?”

Before you can even think about answering or trying to, you hear something. Knock, knock, knock. “Um…Mr. Higuruma?” someone calls outside the door. “Mr. Nanamin, are you in there? It’s Itadori!” Instantly, the two lawyers grow still and anxiety pushes your hormones out the door.

“Shit!” Higuruma hisses. He clears his throat, doing his best to sound like he wasn’t just pumping you full of his cock. “Y-Yes, we’re in here,” he calls. “Do you need something, Itadori?”

Yuji Itadori is by far one of the cutest and sweetest interns in the firm, so you don’t feel too angry about being interrupted. Just extremely sexually frustrated. “One of the lawyers sent me up here to fetch you,” Itadori explains. “They’re about to start the anniversary speech in about fifteen minutes!”

Slowly, Higuruma and Nanami begin to fuck you again, moving tortuously slow. You can feel yourself growing closer to orgasm and do your best to keep quiet, glad to have something in your mouth. “We’ll be down soon,” Nanami replies. “Thank you, Itadori.”

“You betcha!” Itadori chirps. “Oh, and if you see Y/N, tell her that the cake is out! I saved her a slice!” Then off he goes, his footsteps disappearing down the hall and the ding of the elevator slicing through the silence. Once he’s gone, you all breathe a collective sigh of relief.

“Now then,” Higuruma growls, “let’s make this little slut cum before we get caught.”

Your bosses make do with the time they have and fill your holes with each vigorous, pounding thrust that makes both your mouth and pussy salivate. The office is filled with the sounds of your hushed moans, creaky desk legs, and the light slapping of skin as Higuruma fucks and fucks and fucks your pussy like a machine.

When he finally feels you squeezing around him, he slides one hand down between you to rub your clit. “Cum for me,” he urges you. “Give it to me, baby. Cum on that dick now.”

Maybe it’s the way he talks you through it or how Nanami sounds fucking your face or the fact that you’re on a time crunch, but the third orgasm quickly crashes down onto you as despite its slow buildup. It is just as tense as the first two, making you whine around Nanami’s cock as your cunt massages and strokes Higuruma off.

“Fuck!” he grunts. “I’m about to cum too. Where you want it, baby? Tell me now before I make the decision for you.”

“O-On me!” you gasp out, still in the throes of your orgasm. “Do it on me! Anywhere you want!”

Quickly, Higuruma pulls his cock, sobbing wet with your cum, out of you while Nanami ruts into your mouth, chasing his orgasm. Their sexy, deep moans and grunts of release fill the air as each hot load of cum coats your ass and your tongue.

You shudder and deliriously giggle as they cum, feeling all of that pleasure and the high from your orgasm collide. As your orgasms pass, you three pant and huff in the darkness, recovering from the activity.

Clearing his throat, Nanami pulls out of your mouth, allowing you to swallow his load. Meanwhile, Higuruma takes some tissues from the desk and sops up his cum up from your ass. Though it is sweet, it is also very, very awkward. ‘Of course, it is, you slut!’ you critically think. ‘You just fucked your fucking bosses!’

Once Higuruma finishes, he tosses the tissues away and steps away to allow you to freely move. You stay laid across the desk, not wanting to look up and see the regret in their eyes. You clear your throat, trying to ease the awkward tension. “Well, that’s one way to celebrate a job offer,” you breathlessly say.

It works. The two lawyers begin to laugh, their deep, rumbling chuckles appealing to your ear. Finally, you look up and find them smiling. “Yes, it is,” Nanami chuckles, eyes and cheeks aglow. “You were amazing, darling.” His pet name and the praise makes your stomach flutter like a school girl’s when she sees her crush.

“Hope you don’t go givin’ that to any other employer in your future,” Higuruma chuckles, his body and forehead glistening in sweat. Your eyes drink in his body, committing his and Nanami’s to memory.

Your stomach flips, glad to see that things aren’t awkward or weird anymore. You move to sit up on Nanami’s desk, facing both of your bosses. “Oh, trust me…I won’t. I doubt I’d have any employers as sexy as you two.” You stare up at them through your lashes, earning two sweet kisses on the lips in response as if they are your boyfriends. Not your bosses.

”The feeling is mutual,” Higuruma sighs. “You have no idea how long we’ve wanted to do that with you.” Nanami hums in response, gently moving a strand of hair behind your ear, but it’s really just an excuse to touch you. Despite the tenderness, you can’t keep denying the pink elephant in the room. “So…what now?” you ask.

The two lawyers stare at you blankly, obviously not quite getting what you mean. Higuruma laughs, already buttoning up his shirt. “Well, if you mean in the present tense, I suggest we all get cleaned up and go back to the party before someone comes lookin’ for us again.”

Nanami pulls his pants up, fastening his belt. You watch, doing your best to swallow that lump in your throat. That isn’t what you meant….but what else could you mean? Surely, you don’t think this can be anything real or official. Friends with benefits or fuck buddies, sure. But actually dating your bosses? Your employers and mentors? That would be a tale for the entire firm to gossip about.

So you hang your tail between your legs and push away your disappointment. “Oh…yes, of course,” you softly say. “We definitely should. Uh…can one of you help me with my dress?”

You stand and turn around for Nanami to help you tie your dress behind your neck. You do the rest, hiding your face from them as it flushes with embarrassment. You don’t want them to see you cry if you do. You can’t tell what you’ll do off of the Brüte champagne. After you finish dressing and checking your hair to make sure it doesn’t look too suspicious, the lawyers first check the hall to see if it’s empty.

Then they lead you down the hall to the elevator. None of you speak. The air is tense again with silence and your shoes clicking across the floor, the gravity of your decision swirling in the air like cigarette smoke. Pungent, heady, and inescapable. You feel regretful of your decision immediately despite how good and right it felt in the moment. You wouldn’t be surprised if Higuruma and Nanami revoked the job offer tomorrow morning.

You press the elevator button and the box luckily comes pretty quick. The lawyers let you in first before moving in behind you. Higuruma presses the button to the lobby and the doors close. Now in close proximity to them again, you’re aware of both men standing on either side of you, facing ahead. You clutch your purse to your stomach, biting your lip to avoid blurting something dumb.

“If you meant “what now” as in what about us, I hope you realize that this isn’t just a fling for us,” Higuruma says, his deep voice filling the tight space. “It can be if you want it to be, but if you’d like this to be more official, I wouldn’t be opposed to that.” Your mouth falls agap as you gape at him. He stares back, his eyes intense and unmoving.

“Me either,” Nanami adds. “Excuse my language and call me a selfish motherfucker, but I can’t say the idea of seeing you with another man other than my partner doesn’t tick me off.” His fingers dance across your lower back, giving you shivers. Delicious shivers that only grow as the fact of the matter processes in your mind: this is real now.

Better say this now than never then. You slowly take their hands in both of yours, your heart stuttering. “I’d like that too,” you shyly admit. “But maybe we can keep this on the low for now? Just until I start my new job, at least.”

Ding the elevator goes as you finally arrive to the lobby. Nanami smiles, running his thumb along your knuckles. “If that’s what you want, Ms. L/N,” he teases. “See you after the speech.” Higuruma gives your hand a squeeze before he releases it and fixes his tie just as the doors open onto the lobby.

As you walk out of the elevator, you feel two hands open-palm smack you against your ass. You squeak, hiding your smile as the two lawyers stride away to the stage entrance to the ballroom as if nothing happened.

You take another entrance, walking through the one that cuts into the middle of the ballroom. You immediately find your intern group standing by the stage waiting for the speech to begin and strut over to them, unable to keep your hips from swaying. It is as if your lawyers amped your confidence up to about one hundred.

Yuki turns to you, a slice of cake in her hand. “There you are!” she announces. “Look, Yuji’s cute ass left you some cake! Where the hell have you been?”

You give her a smile and take the plate from her, needing something sweet to end your night off right. “I just got a job offer.”

THE END.

[jujumin-translates]

[A3!] Event | Devil Maid’s Holiday | EP: Nightmare Halloween Party

Kumon: Here we are! The Nightmare Halloween Party!

Omi: It’s pretty big. You can really get a sense of all the Halloween colors.

Kazunari: Oh-em-gee~, this place is SO cute! There’s so many Inste-able places! Omimi, c’mon, take a pic with me~♪

Tsumugi: There are quite a lot of people here too. It’s pretty lively. 

Tenma: I mean, it is Halloween today. Seems like there’s a lotta people wearing costumes too.

Misumi: Are you wearing a celebrity costume, Tenma~?

Tenma: I AM a celebrity! 

Kumon: Look, look, Nii-chan! It’s a candy house!

Juza: A candy house…

Banri: It’s fake, dumbass. Don’t try ‘n eat it.

Azuma: Hisoka, it looks like they’re selling chocolate drinks over there.

Hisoka: …I’m gonna get mine with the marshmallow mountain topping.

Izumi: (Darn… Looks like everyone went off in their own directions as soon as we walked in.)

Izumi: It’ll be okay, right? I hope everyone will be back in time for the performance.

Chikage: Why wouldn’t it be okay? Look… Every troupe’s got someone performing on stage who they’re not going to let wander off on their own.

Tsuzuru: Ahh… I guess I can’t argue with that.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Guy: It’s almost time for the performance to start.

Misumi: C’mon, let’s go, let’s go~!

Tasuku: Mikage, get up.

Hisoka: …Mn.

Azuma: Good work on being his transportation, Tasuku.

Izumi: Thank goodness. Looks like everyone got here in time.

Chikage: I told you.

Misumi: Waaah, the castle’s roof is a really nice triangle! That’s so cool~!

Tasuku: This whole thing was quite the challenge, but… I’m looking forward to see what those guys can do.

Sakyo: Right. Well, all of them agreed to do it voluntarily. There’s no reason for us to worry.

Tsumugi: Ah, seems like it’s starting.

Izumi: (Break a leg, guys…!)

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Ame: “Alright, we’ll sing our debut song for you. Just follow our lead!”

Eliza: “We’re about to make you all fall in love, so be ready!”

Tio: “We’re sending our hearts full of love your way ♪ So keep on listening!”

*Audience cheers*

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Kumon: Everyone was so cute! That was so much fun!

Tsuzuru: Your acting was great, Sakuya. You really nailed those devilish gestures and expressions.

Sakuya: Whoa, really!? Thank you so much! Looks like all of my hard practice with Yuki-kun and the others really paid off.

Omi: The other attendees in the venue seemed to be getting pretty excited too. They were all cheering for you.

Kazunari: Like a call-and-response sorta thing? I mean, I’m pretty sure there are supposed to be fans of other idols here, so I guess there was like a pretty banger connection between everyone~.

Itaru: GG, Yuki. Even with the exaggerated backdrop of the whole maid outfits and devil thing, it all fit together really nicely… TL;DR, crazy cute.

Itaru: Thank God devidevi tails was just a one-night idol group. If they were part of a social game, I’d be cooked.

Masumi: …You’ve been cooked since day one. 

Chikage: Don’t even bother.

Citron: Ohh, how was my full-chaos acting!?

Itaru: I mean, I guess you could say it was chaotic, but I’m guessing you meant full force? It was good, obviously, and you absolutely nailed the cuteness.

Tsuzuru: Thanks to the surprisingly solid devil element with the costumes, everything was able to work out just fine even though the thing as a whole was huge.

Masumi: I mean, even though it was like that, you weren’t that bad. Sakuya, Citron, and the others, I mean.

Kazunari: Yukki’s taste with these costumes was so banger for realsies! Literally the best~!

Yuki: Obviously. 

Tenma: He’s been mumbling on about things in our room forever. But the costumes and performance all turned out great, so it looks like it was all worth it.

Misumi: Yuki and Muku were sooo cute~!

Kumon: Right!? It was like they were real idols! 

Muku: Really? I’m glad… Thank you so much!

Omi: You’ve already been pretty good with female roles, Taichi.

Taichi: But this time it was so, so, SO hard ‘cause you could see my legs, and my role was nothing like Zero!

Banri: Yuki was scoldin’ you about the way you were walkin’ quite a bit.

Juza: I’d never be able to copy that kinda thing. 

Sakyo: Well, you and Nanao really looked the part thanks to the makeup.

Azami: Hmph, I mean, duh. The hell do you think I am? 

Juza: The audience was cheerin’ ‘n sayin’ how cute things were durin’ the live scene.

Banri: I bet dealin’ with all the costumes ‘n other things you had to do this time around was a real pain in the ass.

Azami: Well… It was hard, but we did what we had to do.

Azuma: Homare was quite beautiful and cute.

Tsumugi: He really was wonderful. His mannerisms were really beautiful.

Guy: Yes, he was quite elegant. I could really sense the mature calmness and dependability of the head maid, as well.

Homare: Well, naturally! I suppose it was a role that was made for me!

Hisoka: I thought you were cool for like a minute… But then you ruined it by doing that.

Homare: Hmph. What is that supposed to mean!? 

Tasuku: He’s not wrong. It’s a shame you’re not always like that…

Homare: Ohoho, the usual me is just as good as how I was today.

Sakuya: I’m really glad that it seems like everyone had fun.

Izumi: Yeah. This was a great success! 

Yuki: …Hey.

Sakuya: ?

Yuki: …Thanks for everything.

Sakuya: Huh?

Sakuya: Yuki-kun, what was that you just…?

Yuki: Nothing.

[ ⇠ Previous Part ] [ 🕸️ ]

[obscene-murmurs]

To Bubba & Billy: so you two just had your 50th anniversary in 2024 (Congrats!), how do you feel? In addition, how do the more recent slashers feel about their more retro counterparts (and vice versa)?

Soft, raspy giggling echoes before his voice creeps through the phone line, distorted and playful.

“Fifty years... half a century of... watching, waiting... Hehehehe... hiding in the dark. They still hear me, still listen... even the new ones. Art... Gabriel... they’re clever, they twist, they play... just like me... just like Billy. Hehehehe They know how to... make people scream. I like that... hee hee... makes me feel... not so alone in the walls... hee hee... Not so forgotten...”

-☎

Grunts softly, shifting his weight as he fiddles with his fingers, eyes wide and confused, trying to make sense of the attention.

“Hngh... fif... fifty?” He looks around, almost as if waiting for someone to explain. His fingers sign the words he's unable to speak “Long time... lotta screams... lotta meat... lotta work. Family proud. Always proud... New ones... they... strange. Paint faces, move like shadows... make funny noises." Bubba frowned, clearly confused about Art’s silent antics and Gabriel’s backwards movements. "Don’t know them... don’t like change... but... they cut good... they know how to hunt.”

-🪚

How they feel about the newer slashers:

Billy feels a kindred connection to Art the Clown, appreciating his silent but sadistic playfulness and his unpredictable violence. With Gabriel May, Billy is fascinated by his eerie movements and ability to manipulate his environment, seeing him as a kind of otherworldly reflection.

Bubba is more confused than anything else. He recognizes the violence and hunting instincts in both Art and Gabriel, but their supernatural qualities and bizarre methods unsettle him. He respects their efficiency but keeps his distance out of instinctive caution.

Vice versa:

Art grins wide, his painted face splitting into a grotesque, toothy smile. His eyes gleam with wicked curiosity as he pantomimes exaggerated applause, mockingly celebrating Bubba and Billy's legacy. He mimes wiping a fake tear, then points at himself, chest puffed with pride.

Art respects them... in his own twisted way. To him, Billy is a kindred spirit of chaos and voyeuristic delight, but he finds Billy’s dependence on voice calls quaint—why whisper when you can show them horror? He adores Billy’s playfulness but sees himself as the master of silent torment.

With Bubba, Art’s fascination is different. He sees the brute power and unfiltered violence but chuckles at Bubba’s simplicity and dependence on family. To Art, Bubba is like a child playing with his food, and while he respects the chainsaw’s carnage, he thinks his own creativity is far superior. Art sees himself as an evolution—a more theatrical, unpredictable monster who doesn’t just kill but creates a spectacle.

-🎪

Gabriel's twisted form shifts unnaturally, limbs contorting in ways that defy anatomy. His head tilts sharply, eyes narrowing as his lips curl into a crooked grin. He whispers something, a sound like static and nightmares.

Gabriel is intrigued by Billy’s voyeurism, relating to the sense of watching from the shadows. But he considers Billy too human, too limited by his mind’s fractured sanity. Gabriel, who moves with supernatural fluidity and distorts reality itself, sees Billy as trapped by his own madness, whereas Gabriel is liberated by his.

With Bubba, Gabriel is almost... amused. He watches the brute strength and animalistic instinct but sees no grace, no subtlety. Bubba’s dependence on family and rigid routine baffle Gabriel, who thrives on chaos and unpredictability. To Gabriel, Bubba is an outdated predator—effective but mundane. Gabriel sees himself as a new form of horror, transcending human limitations.

-🖤

[mywifeleftme]

179: Elvis Presley // The Sun Collection

The Sun Collection Elvis Presley 1975, RCA Victor

Is there anything left worth writing about Elvis? Well, people still find smart things to say about Jesus. Getting through all the muck around him took some doing for me, and it was probably the mythic intensity of Nick Tosches and Greil Marcus’s writing on his career (and particularly the Sun Sessions) that gave me a framework for understanding what made him so electric, something more than the pancake-foundationed Engelbert Humperdinck- or Wayne Newton-type Vegas tchotchke he seemed to be. I don’t have a ton to add to the conversation around Presley, but I was curious about how people think about him these days, whether they still have any strong opinions at all. I asked a bunch of friends (and my grandma) to give me their impressions of the King, and their thoughts follow.

18 Takes on the King

“I guess he's like a sexy (not as in attractive, but more like assuming the affectation of sex) Gumby who was the perfect conduit for music producers looking to extract culture from Black communities, can it, and sell it to white America like tinned fish. It's like if Hank Hill had a verbal aphasia and could only stutter vowel sounds, but it somehow still slaps despite the odds.”

“The quintessential model for a pop star who is overtly sexualized but also somehow innocent or naïve. This presentation can range from cool to creepy. Elvis didn’t do it first, but he did it the best to that point and his version came off on the cooler end of that spectrum.”

“Elvis isn’t my thing, but without him I don’t know what ‘90s independent cinema would even be.”

“I have conflicted feelings about Elvis—while I think there's something truly timeless and unique about the timbre of his voice and the way he sings (my family plays his Christmas record on Christmas Day without fail every year), I also recognize that he is overrated in that his material is neither original nor is it particularly revolutionary in any way, and if anything is just a glossed, whitewashed version of music that already existed previously that white audiences couldn’t handle. But ultimately, I do legitimately like listening to his music.”

“I’m not a major Elvis person, but early rock dude who combined gospel/blues with the developing genre of rock. Don’t think he ever claimed to be THE GUY who created the genre and from the little I know, he acknowledged the importance of Black artists in inspiring what he did. Particularly known for his cover of ‘Hound Dog.’ There we go.”

“Elvis Presley, the hip-shaking maestro of rock 'n' roll, could make even a hound dog blush with envy. His voice was smoother than peanut butter on a hot skillet, and his hair was so iconic, it had its own fan club. If music be the food of love, then Elvis was the chef who cooked up a whole lotta heart-throbbing tunes! (ChatGPT lol, sorry, busy day at work!)”

“A bejewelled sex wizard.”

“Elvis Presley allegedly came in his all-leather flight suit during his iconic ‘comeback’ special. He is one of a select few celebrities with a fervently believed rumour of being not-dead. People dress as him and marry other people together. Also, he invented a sandwich. — King Status”

“Mediocre singer who abused women and whose signature sandwich is overrated.”

“His career ate him up, then he ate everything else.”

“The King of Ripping Off Other Artists. My earliest memories of Elvis are my family listening to the Christmas album ad nauseum, but they’re good memories nonetheless. Regardless of how you feel about Elvis, you must admit ‘Jailhouse Rock’ fucking RIPS.”

“White as winter snow pills jam and peanut butter A king on his throne”

“A lot of people dismiss Elvis because of an opinion they've been told to have and have never really critically assessed, and I imagine a lot of people you ask about this will give you the standard take; I'm not going to fault them that, I think a lot of us have opinions like that, it's not really efficient to assess the validity of every single one of our received assumptions.

There's an absolutely dogshit short story by Alice Walker about an Elvis stand-in character and a Mama Lou Thornton stand-in character, which seems to imply that Thornton wrote ‘Hound Dog’ herself and was effectively exploited and that Elvis isn't a real artist because he can't write his own songs, which is a crock of shit because: two Jewish white guys wrote the song for Thornton; she made it a #1 record; and performance IS real artistry and Thornton, like Elvis, was a real artist and interpreted the song in a very powerful way.

The fact is, you listen to that Ed Sullivan ‘Hound Dog’ performance, and it doesn't take much to see how different it is from the original—not ‘better’ or ‘worse’ but very obviously distinct, and if you tell me otherwise you are absolutely approaching it in bad faith and there's no reason for me to even waste my time explaining that to you.

Elvis absolutely kicks the doors down in the opening bar of his version of ‘Hound Dog,’ it sounds extremely dangerous and you can immediately see why he scared parents—he was wild and in-your-face, an extremely prescient innovator who sounded totally unlike anything that came before him no matter what the haters mindlessly repeat, and he WAS a true contender for the title of King of Rock & Roll.”

“My ability to produce an opinion here was contaminated by the Baz Luhrmann movie.”

“apparently influential in bringing some sort of music (maybe it’s dance hall music) to white America but I dunno really

also he died on the toilet

or maybe aliens got him

not sure”

“A man with a good heart, in a physique of timeless beauty that comes along once in a civilization. True to his roots, and the foundation of his time, he kept his focus on God. However, his body and mind went wayward to a decadence not uncharacteristic of the chapter unto which he was born. His Spirit shone through regardless, right to the end.”

“Elvis is America in the sense that his impact was so seismic and society changed so rapidly while he was active that he basically had to become a nostalgia peddler for like, his own vibe in his own time. He went from Little Richard to Michael Bublé in like a year and a half.

He’s a perfect representation of suspended youth in that I think a lot of what makes him so iconic is that all his excesses (Graceland, the Outfits, the Karate, the Sandwiches) are basically a broke 12-year-old boy’s version of what being rich and famous looks like, which objectively rocks.

His best record is a Christmas album which I think is an appropriate celebration and condemnation of his legacy.”

“He was my youth. 😊 He was my exam study music! I loved him and his music and his movies. I still love him!”

179/365

[rafesthroatbaby]

“Gosh how much I missed your little attitude.” He grinned, before placing his hand on her thigh. “Can’t wait to fuck it out of you.” 

THIS LINE IS TOP TIER 😭🤤 welcome back my queen 🥺 it’s been a damn while since you blessed my feed. listen everybody: this is special y’all: SHE HAS WOKEN UP FROM HIBERNATION 🫶 god I loved reading this SO MUCH. the beginning had me like WHEW😮‍💨 what is baby daddy going to do now ?! you don’t write fics , you write fucking blockbuster movies & that’s a straight fact.

the reader is such a good match for him, like I can see myself in her 😭 ahhhh - prison break ? on the run? them FUCKING on the boat ? Now that’s how you celebrate 😌 I need y’all to devour this hot shit & show my girl some love 💕

haters: SUCK WHOLE LOTTA DICKS

𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮

- 𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧

pairing: canon!rafe cameron x fem!dark!reader (she a little crazy too)

genre: action (?), smut, teeny bit of fluff & angst -> 18+!!

words: ~5.2k

warnings: shootings, mentions of guns (obviously), fire, mentions of death, dom!rafe, not so subby but bratty reader, prison break, (slight) daddy kink, (sexual) choking, hair pulling, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex

summary: after her efforts of getting her fiancé out of jail the legal way, (Y/N) has to take on different measures to get him back

note: this is kind of a second part to “till death do us part” but it can be read as a stand alone too.

also please go easy on me, I obviously have yet to break anyone out of jail, and I’ve not been chased by the police that often yet so if there some parts that seem unrealistic to you- please ignore them

“Get on your damn knees, Cameron!” Shoupe was screaming at the young man, as he ran out of the water.

“Baby? Baby where are you?” Rafe screamed as panic overcame his voice. 

He frantically looked around him, but there was no sign of his girl. The second he reached land, he turned around, trying to find at least a sign that she was alive but there was nothing. It wasn’t until he heard Deputy Plumb scream “I got her!”, that he knew she was alive. She dragged her by the shoulder, her grip so tight, that the girl was sure it would leave marks. 

“Let go of me!” She yelled, trying to get herself free, as the older woman dragged her to shore. 

“You wish…” Plumb gritted through her teeth, knowing exactly that she would try and run away the second she would let go of her.

But (Y/N) would never run away without the love of her life and by the way the male Officers were throwing themselves on him, she knew that wouldn’t happen anytime soon. 

“Let go of him!” She screamed, but her wishes stayed unheard. “I swear to god if you hurt him, I’m gonna kill you, all of you!” She continued, not caring about the consequences her threads might bring with them. 

Rafe tried to free himself from the Officer's grip, but he wasn’t strong enough to fight off four male Officers, especially not with the anger they had in them. “Would you calm down?” Shoupe ordered as he turned around to look at you.. “Only gonna make things a lot harder for the both of you.” 

The moment (Y/N)’s feet had dry land under them, she tried to fight herself free again, but Plumb's grip was tight, a little bit too tight for Rafe’s liking. “If you hurt her, I swear I’ll fucking kill you.” The face of the young man turned red, as he so desperately tried to fight himself free so he could protect her. He saw the tears forming in his love’s eyes and to say it drove him insane was an understatement. 

He wanted to fight himself free, wrap his arms around her, and carry her away but before he could even attempt to do anything, he had Deputy Thomas’ fist in the face, sending him to the ground with such force that he blacked out for a second. The moment he regained consciousness, he heard her scream in pain. 

“You bastard!” She cried, before fighting herself free of the woman’s grip and launching towards the Officer. “He wasn’t even doing anything you disgusting piece of shit!” She screamed, as they contained her and brought her to the ground next to her boyfriend. 

He was lying on his stomach as they started to cuff him, and she softly caressed his eye, which was already swollen. “It’s gonna be okay. I’m gonna get you out of this.” She sobbed, as they took her hands and put them behind her back, before cuffing them together. 

“You’re gonna pay for this.” She mumbled through gritted teeth, as they were dragging him to the police car. 

“Would you stop with the threads now, Miss?” Plumb hissed at the girl before she turned her attention towards her boss. “Let’s take her with us? So she can calm down.” 

“I am calm you fucking bitch!” 

“Okay.” The officer chuckled, before dragging her towards the other car. She was about to go inside when Rafe turned himself around and looked at her. 

“I love you, baby.”

“Till death do us part?” She smiled.

“Till death do us part.” He answered, before the Sheriff shoved him into the car.

“If that fat pig hurts him again, one more time…” She mumbled before Plumb pushed her into the other car.

………….

That was six weeks ago. Since then, she had tried everything in order to get him at least out on bail but the judge was hard. She consulted the best lawyers and brought up the way they treated the two of them during their arrest but hence the drugs in their system and the statements of the arresting officers, no one was able to do anything. She tried to do it the legal way, she truly did but she never had a chance. Especially not now when they started investigating her and her entire family. 

She knew she was screwed and she would have to take action soon if she didn’t want to end up in a prison cell herself. After her last visit, she was able to visit him once again, thanks to her amazing ability to convince people to do whatever she wanted and her outstanding talent for blackmailing but after her last visit, they completely blocked her out. Being investigated for fraud and money laundering, really took away all her family's credibility, leaving her with nothing but her last resort. She had to break him out of jail. 

So there she was with a smile on her face, watching the flames, as they grew bigger and bigger, until almost swallowing the whole building. Screams were echoing from the front of the building but she didn’t care. It was almost as if she didn’t hear them. Officers trying to escape without getting thrown back into the flames by Kildare’s most sinister criminals, and prisoners, trying to use this opportunity to get their freedom back.

(Y/N) knew it was a risky plan, she knew there was a chance that he wouldn’t make it out of there in time before either the cops or the flames got the best of him but it was her last chance. Tomorrow, they were planning on transferring him to the mainland for his trial, the big one. The one that determined whether he was guilty of his crimes, or if he was innocent and she damn well knew, the chance for the second one was less than zero. 

She was hiding behind the building, hoping he would know where to find her. She had the car ready, in case they needed to make a run for it, just like they had always joked about. 

The smoke had gotten worse as the flames made their way around the building and anxiety slowly burned its way through her body. She tried to calm herself down, as she unconsciously played with the pink “Bratz Doll” lighter between her fingers. Did she do the right thing? Would he make it? What if he didn’t? Then she would’ve killed the love of her life.

She took a peak around the corner where she saw Sheriff Shoupe arguing around with a group of firefighters. She hadn’t heard them come. His clothes were gray from the smoke and he was coughing a lot, but other than that he seemed fine. She appreciated the fact that she did not just kill Kildare’s new Sheriff, only a few months after her fiancé had killed the first one. Shortly after, more police cars arrived at the scene, followed by the loud noise of what she assumed to be a helicopter, landing on the other side of the building. She knew if he hadn’t made it out by now, then her whole plan would most likely have been for nothing. 

She quickly made her way back to her car, where another wave of anxiety overcame her. She tried to think positively but the tears in her eyes were starting to get through. It couldn’t be. She couldn’t be the one that killed him. She was smart and resourceful, her plans never failed. But this wasn’t a rational plan. She was desperate. 

(Y/N) watched, as the flames started to swallow the building whole, besides the fireman’s efforts to stop it. She tried so hard to hold on to the last piece of hope but she had given up. She was about to get into her car when she was stopped by a familiar voice.

“You weren’t about to leave without me, now were you sweetheart?” He coughed, causing her to freeze in her tracks. 

She turned around and was met with her fiancé, covered in soot from head to toe. His once orange prison suit was now gray, the orange barely visible anymore. He was coughing a lot but between his coughs, he was smiling. She squealed in happiness, before jumping into his arms. 

“I thought you didn’t make it.” She whispered, almost crying into his neck.

“Nah, you can’t get rid of me that easily baby.” He chuckled. 

Hand in hand, they ran to the car as fast as they could. Just when (Y/N) was about to turn the ignition, she was stopped by the familiar *click* of a gun.

“Don’t you dare, turn on that car, (Y/L/N)!” The woman coughed out, her words barely hearable to the other two.

“Told you Plumb,” She smirked, as she pulled down the window. “Told you, you’re gonna pay for this.” And with that, she turned on the car and drove away, trying not to get killed by the bullets that came flying after them.

As they got chased through the streets of Kildare by what felt like the entire police department, Rafe tried to fire back with the gun she had brought. He had climbed into the backseat so he had a better angle, without his feet blocking her stick. He had tried to convince her to switch seats, but as stubborn as she was, she insisted on driving.

“I swear to god Rafe, if you get shot I’m gonna finish you off myself.” She yelled as he almost got hit by a bullet. “Just shoot something, it’s not that hard to hit someone, you must know…”

He gave her a bitter laugh. “It’s certainly not that hard to put your foot on that damn gas pedal either! Just let me take over!”  

“No, I can do this! I’ve always wanted to do this!” She giggled, after dodging an old man who had started to cross the street but wasn’t fast enough in turning around. “Oops!” She laughed. “We almost killed our first-grade math teacher.” 

“No, you almost killed our first-grade math teacher. I liked that guy!” He yelled back into the car, after trying and failing to hit the cars behind them. “Can’t hit anything with you driving like a maniac!”

“How else would you want me to drive, mister?”

“Just let me fucking do it?”

“Fine.” She mumbled, before jumping out of her seat. Before Rafe even realized what was going on, she had climbed into the passenger seat. “Go and take over the fucking car then!” She yelled, as she grabbed another, but slightly bigger gun from beneath the seat and leaned out of the window, almost shooting Rafe himself as he was still leaning out of the window as well.

“Oh my god.” He mumbled, as he jumped into the driver's seat, “Are you fucking crazy?” He waited for a second as if he really thought she was going to reply, before continuing, “Of course you are, you just broke me out of jail with a pink “Bratz doll” lighter…” He chuckled, as he knew goddamn well you wouldn’t use anything else to light something up, let it be a candle when you’re taking a bath or some wood when you’re lighting up a fucking detention center.

Rafe still had the other gun, so naturally, he tried to take over not only driving but also shooting. With his foot on the gas pedal, he leaned out of the window and started shooting. He thought he held the car steady as he hit multiple tires of the police cars behind them but if it wasn't for (Y/N) and her taking over the steering wheel, he would’ve driven them both straight into a café. 

“Goddamn it!” She yelled, “But you’re calling me crazy?” 

The officers quickly lost control over their cars as the bullet holes drained the air out of their tires and before they could do anything about it, they were clashing into each other. One of the cars crashed into a restaurant, and the screams of the people were even louder than the terrible sound of the sirens that had chased them. 

 “See, just let Daddy handle it. There’s a reason you’re my designated passenger princess.” He grinned satisfied.

“See, let daddy handle it…” She mocked, “If it wasn’t for me you would not only still be in jail, but we would also both be lying dead on Papa Joe’s Ice Cream counter you bloody idiot!” She yelled, almost spitting into his face out of anger. She was expecting some sort of accountability from him but all she got was a laugh. “No I’m fucking for real Rafe Cameron, disrespect me like that again and I'll send your ungrateful ass to hell myself.” 

“Gosh how much I missed your little attitude.” He grinned, before placing his hand on her thigh. “Can’t wait to fuck it out of you.” 

“Keep up your attitude and the only thing you're gonna fuck for a very long time is your own damn hand.” 

“We’ll see ‘bout that.” He smirked, before turning his attention back on the road, earning nothing but an evil side eye from the girl next to him. She might be in a mood now, but he knew goddamn well that she'd come begging for his dick soon enough.

“Got a boat parked at Layla’s beach rental.” She stated simply, without looking at him. “Maybe you can press on that gas pedal a little more since you’re so good at it, and get us there before more cops show up and have taken over the marsh…” 

Without saying anything, he headed towards her best friend’s rental property, where the boat was waiting for them. It wasn’t as big as the Druthers, but it was more than enough to get them to the Mainland. Neither of them cared about where particularly, they just wanted to get as far away from the outer banks as possible. 

As they were getting the boat ready, they could hear the sirens already approaching. While Rafe loosened the Anker, (Y/N) started the motor. They were about to drive away when The officers, such as Sheriff Shoupe and Deputy Plumb jumped out of their cars. 

“We got company.” (Y/N) stated as Rafe took over the wheel. “I thought we got them good back there but apparently not good enough.”

He hit the gas pedal and slowly drove the boat away from shore, trying to ignore the amount of guns that were currently pointed at them.

“Put your hands up and step away from the wheel!” Shoupe yelled through a megaphone. “I repeat, Rafe Cameron, and (Y/N) (Y/L/N) put your hands up and step away from the steering wheel. Do not make me repeat myself.” 

Rafe’s gaze went from the officers, who had all pointed their guns at the two of them, to her. She was standing steady, her hands not up in the air like she was told. He knew she would never oblige to them, (Y/N) was that kind of girl that would be rather dead than locked up, he knew that. Her eyes met his and in that moment it felt like the world stopped. He saw the fire in her eyes and it was burning brighter than ever, almost as if she was enjoying this. There was not an ounce of fear in them, there never was, except for the time she thought he died in the flames but he didn’t know that. He knew exactly what she was about to do which left him with only one option. She gave him a soft smile, before leaning in for a kiss. She didn’t plan on occupying his lips for that long, since she knew every second wasted could cost them their life but she didn’t care. This could be the last time she tasted his lips so she had to take her time. In a swift second, she pulled the gun out of her jeans pocket and started firing. 

The next few moments didn’t feel real for either of them, but the bullet holes on the boat proved that they were. Rafe had taken over the wheel as he sped away from the scene, while his girlfriend gave him cover. In this moment, Rafe experienced what true fear felt like. With every shot fired, there was a chance it could hit her, and alone the thought of it made him dizzy. (Y/N) on the other hand, had never felt more alive. She reveled in the gunfire that they, especially her, had started but her excitement soon died out when not only her bullets went out, but they also started getting shot at from their left, as police boats started to get closer to them. 

“Baby, I’m out!” She yelled out, trying to keep calm. 

“Here, take over.” He commanded as he pulled out his own gun. “And baby?” 

“Yes?” 

“Hit that damn gas pedal this time!” 

She smiled, before turning around and really hitting that pedal. It was the boat her dad had gifted her after she got accepted into college and it was a damn fast one. Other than a car, (Y/N) knew exactly how to drive a boat and soon their pursuers had to learn this the hard way. She was fast and soon, the officers had to let them go but it wasn’t only because (Y/N) was too fast for them and Rafe knew that. They had hit two of the officers. 

“Baby… baby they stopped.” (Y/N) squealed as she let go of the wheel and jumped into her boyfriend’s arms. 

“Thanks to you, princess.” He laughed softly. “You were amazing. You have no idea how much I love your crazy ass.”

“Oh, I know.” She chuckled, before leaning in for a kiss. “Now are you finally gonna fuck that attitude out of me, or what?” She didn’t have to ask twice, as he had pushed her into the cabin before she could even take another breath. “Shouldn’t we put the boat on autopilot first?” She giggled against his lips.

“Right.” He chuckled, before pushing her onto the couch. “Be right back!” He hurried outside and put the boat on autopilot while making sure one last time that they weren’t followed anymore. 

When he came back, she was lying on the couch, her upper body resting on her elbows and her legs spread, revealing the hot pink thong she was wearing underneath her baby blue jeans skirt. He mustered her body, his eyes traveling from her beautiful face, down to her tits that were barely covered underneath that black excuse of a tank top. The further his eyes traveled down her body the more saliva built up in his mouth, as he couldn’t wait to bury his head between her folds. 

With the biggest smile on his lips, he hopped on top of her, where he was welcomed by her tongue exploring his mouth. She gently placed her hand on the back of his head, so she could push him closer to her. They both had waited for this moment for months, so they didn’t want to waste any time. He didn’t want to waste any time, as he had yet to thank her for getting him out of there in the first place. 

As his tongue fought for dominance, he gently pulled them both up, so they were sitting. He helped her remove her top before she quickly hopped out of her skirt. He held in for a second, taking in the image in front of him. She was wearing a hot pink lace bra, covered in heart-shaped embroidery, matching the thong she was wearing. He didn’t recognize this set of lingerie, she must have gotten it while he was locked up. “You look perfect, princess.” He whispered as he crawled back on top of her. 

“Thank you.” She smiled, “But I need to see you as well, baby. Been too long since I felt those abs beneath my fingers.”

“Patience.” He smirked, before leaning back in. 

He quickly buried his tongue inside her mouth, before she even had the chance to take control. He enjoyed her longing to take over once in a while but not this time, not after what she just did for him. He had to be in charge tonight, not just because he had been behind bars for the past three months, but also because he had to be the one making her feel good tonight. He had to be the reason for every ounce of pleasure she was experiencing, it was his way of showing his gratitude towards what she had done for him, what she had risked for him. Not that anything he could ever do could ever make up for that. But if he was being honest to himself, a small part of him had to assert dominance to show her who was in charge, despite what he just did for him.

He let his fingers slide down her thighs, slowly to build up the anticipation she was already drowning in. “Baby…” She moaned into his mouth as if this would make anything better. Instead, it only motivated him to go slower. He knew how much it tortured her but he also knew her reward would be even bigger in the end. 

As he slowly let his fingers dance over her skin, he moved his tongue over to her neck, where he started nibbling on her earlobe, her sweet spot. As he worked himself over her skin, she filled his ears with sweet moans, that got louder and heavier the closer his fingers got to her core. He slipped them in without a warning, causing her to gasp out in pleasure. Her hands were sliding over his overall, gripping the rough material for dear life, as his fingers started to slowly but surely destroy her from the inside. She tried to bury them deeper by pushing herself onto him but he had loved her long enough, so he knew exactly what she was doing. 

“What did I tell you, baby?” He chuckled softly against her skin, sending goosebumps all over her skin. 

“Can’t help it, I… I need you.” She cried out desperately. “Need to feel you inside of me… “ She paused, “Deep inside of me.”

“Need to taste you first, baby. Need you to cum all over my face, can you do that for me, princess?”

“Hmmm.” She hummed, as she pushed herself further onto him. 

Rafe laughed in amusement but decided to grant her her wish. In a second at least. He planted a soft kiss on her lips, before moving down. Without giving her a warning, he ripped away her thong and buried his face between her folds. 

“Just as sweet as I remembered.” He mumbled, sending another set of vibrations straight through her core. “So fucking perfect.”

“C- can you shut up and…- 

“And what?” He asked sternly as he removed his tongue.

“Just suck me off already, I know how fucking sweet I taste…”

“You and that damn attitude.” He grinned but his expression was dark. “Do I need to remind you who's back in charge?” He asked, but it was more of a rhetorical question than anything else. Before she could even think of an answer, he had his tongue buried inside of her once again at a pace that was faster and stronger than anything else she had ever experienced. It took him less than fifteen seconds to make her cum but if she thought she finally got what she wanted, she was in for a bitter surprise. Because now he wouldn’t stop making her cum with everything but his dick, until she finally got who’s back in charge, and knowing her, he knew they were both in for a very long night.

Even though she knew she soon realized (latest after her third orgasm) that she wouldn't get his dick anytime soon, it didn’t stop her from complaining about it. It wasn’t until Rafe had enough of her, that he took the piece of fabric that was once her thong and stuffed it into her mouth. 

“One more, babygirl…” He cooed, “Give me one more and I promise you, you’ll get what you want.” 

She heard what he said but she was drowning so deep in pleasure and the enormous feeling of overstimulation, that she wasn’t able to process the words that left his mouth. It didn’t take long until another wave of pleasure ran over her body, completely swallowing her up in it.

“Good girl.” He grinned, as he licked her juice from his face. He gave her a second to catch her breath as he pulled off his now gray prison suit. He crawled on top of her, removed her panties, and planted soft kisses on her lips, where she could still taste herself on them. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” He whispered into her ear, as his hands reached under her back to remove her bra. 

As soon as it had landed on the floor across the room, he had her nipple surrounded by his tongue. He knew how much she loved this, how it sent shivers all over her skin, and how quickly it became torturous for her, as it made her build up an intense amount of pressure down her core, but never enough to release it. 

“Baby…” She cried out, still a little bit overwhelmed by the four orgasms he had already given her. 

“Say who’s in charge and you’ll get whatever it is that you want, princess.” He whispered, knowing exactly how hard it would be for her to admit that. He knew she had a hunger for power but like he had already promised himself earlier, she couldn’t have it, not tonight.

“Please…” She whimpered, as his fingers traced over his well-toned stomach.

“Say it, darling. Say it or I’ll stop.” He whispered against her skin, His hot breath burning right through to her.

“You…” She cried out.

“Who?” 

“You, Daddy. You’re in charge.” She whispered, “Tonight.”

He chuckled in amusement at her quiet addition, nothing different than what he had expected. Before she knew it, he had slammed his dick into her, causing her to moan out in pleasure. “We’ll see ‘bout that.” 

He started slow, his hands entangled in hers, as his tongue was dancing around with hers once again. He loved starting slow and then going faster and faster until all she could do was cry and beg for him to let her cum. She had her legs wrapped around his back, it was her way of regaining at least a tiny bit of control, as she had the power to pull him in even deeper if she wanted to. And combined with her nails digging deep into his skin, that was exactly what she did. But as his thrusts got deeper and faster, the pleasure started clouding her senses, resulting in her legs letting loose. 

“You think you can just trick me like that, pretty girl? Think again.” He smirked, but the expression on his face was dark. She knew exactly what that meant and before she even realized it, he had his hand wrapped around her throat. 

The faster he slammed into her, the louder and more pornographic her moans got, and the deeper her nails dug into her skin. He was sure by now, that he would have marks all over his back by the time they were done but he couldn't give less of a shit. All he wanted was for his girl to drown in pleasure and if took a bloody back to archive that, then so be it. For her he would drown himself in pain, he would bleed for her, hell he would die for her. And as she had proved earlier, she didn’t feel one single bit different about him. 

The tighter the grip around her throat got, the tighter became the knot in her stomach. He felt her walls tighten around him but he wasn’t done with her. Not yet. In a swift motion, he had removed his dick and swung her around. She was about to complain, but before she got a word out, he had rammed his dick back inside of her. 

“Such a good girl.” He moaned into her ear, as he grabbed a chunk of her hair and pulled her head back, and wrapped his hand back around her throat.

He couldn't see it but the tighter he grabbed her, the brighter grew the smile on her lips, as the tears streamed over her face. He hit her right at her sweet spot, the spot he was only able to hit in doggy and the spot that not only caused her to cry but also made her drown in pleasure. It didn’t take long until she felt her fifth orgasm building up, followed by the feeling of his dick starting to twitch, as he felt her walls suffocating him. Their moans started to sync up as if they had never done anything else before. She struggled to stay on all fours, as her orgasm rushed over her, he shot his load right up her core, before he collapsed on top of her, causing them both to fall on the couch. 

Rafe might have felt like the boss tonight, like he was in charge but what he didn’t realize was that every single thing she did and said after she got him out, was a controlled move to get her exactly where she was right now. So who was truly in charge tonight? The boy that was fucking her into oblivion, or the girl that was screaming through the night, as her fifth orgasm of the night, rushed over her?

They stayed like this for a little bit and as they both tried to catch their breath, he let his hand travel through her hair, gently stroking her head. Normally it was her who did that, but Rafe knew she needed some extra care tonight, especially after what she had put herself through for him. 

After he had cleaned her up, he wrapped them both in a soft blanket. They were lying outside on the deck now, under the sky, because he knew how much she loved falling asleep under the stars. Her head was resting on his chest, as his fingers softly danced over her skin. 

“I don’t think I can ever thank you enough, baby.”

“You know, I would die for you, right?” She whispered, her eyes already closed. “You are my everything, Rafe Cameron, there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you.” 

He knew what she said was true, and that was what made it hurt even more. Alone the thought of her sacrificing herself for him, made his heart bleed but at the same time, a selfish part of him felt good, knowing he was loved by someone this much. 

“I would do the same for you, princess. In a second. Kinda already said that when I was asking you to marry me.” He chuckled softly.

“I know.” She smiled against his chest. 

“Till death do us part?”

“No. There’s nothing that could ever part me from you.”

“Not even with my soul burning in hell?” He chuckled.

“I would follow you anywhere, my love. Even into the depths of hell itself.”

add yourself to my tag list here

tag list: @lexacantsleep @drewstarkeyslut @spideysimpossiblegirl @ditzyzombiesblog @cartiiwannagotoplutoo (this is the prison break fic)

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Secrets // D.M.

Request: CONGRATS BOO!!! Could I get a Secret relationship with Fluff 4 for Draco Malfoy pretty please at Hogwarts??? Also I was wondering if it could be with a Hufflepuff reader? (I love Hufflepuff x Slytherin pairings) THANKS AGAIN FOR DOING THIS BOO AND CONGRATS 💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛 - @herstory-study

Fluff 4: “Is that my shirt?”

A/N: The first of my blurb celebrations!! Thank you, lovely!! I hope you enjoy!! It could be argued that I got carried away but there’s a large chance I could end up writing full fics for each request 😂 Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!Fem!Reader

Warnings: secret relationships, some kissing, some feelings, a whole lotta fluff, a cheesy ending and an abuse of commas and semi-colons

Word count: 2.7k

There were some aspects to History of Magic that could be classed as interesting; the witch-hunts of Salem, for example or even the brief study dedicated to the founders of the very school you sit in. However, there was nothing remotely interesting about hearing the tale of the Goblin wars for the sixth year in a row.

You tap the feather of your quill to your cheek; jotting down a sentence every now and then to make it look as if you are paying the strictest attention to whatever Professor Binns happens to be mumbling about in that particular moment. You fade in and out of daydreams; letting your mind wander back to two nights ago when Draco had snuck you back into the Hufflepuff common room – stopping every few so often to draw you into another laughter-filled kiss.

You startle when a piece of parchment falls onto your desk. Folded like a paper crane, you only knew who this could be from. A sly glance over the blonde-haired teenager who’s attention is most definitely on the pacing of Binn’s ghost confirms your suspicions.

You delicately unfold the piece of parchment; smiling to yourself as begin to read Draco’s elegant scrawl: “Meet me at the Room of Requirement? 7:30pm?”

Anticipation curls in your gut like a ball.

A brief glance is all it takes for you to confirm. A brief glance in your direction from Draco; a subtle nod from you and your plans for the evening have been wiped clear and replaced entirely with Draco.

The bell rings. You stand, gathering your things together and placing them in your bag. A slight brush to your side is the only contact with the Slytherin you’ve found yourself head over heels for. A slight brush to your side and it feels like every inch of you is on fire; a reaction that only Draco has the power to elicit from you.  

The day passes by slowly now that you have something to look forward to. A day where short moments are stolen behind tapestries or on less traversed corridors. Five minutes each time between lessons where you can quickly whisper a hello before dragging him into a kiss by his green striped tie.

Keeping your relationship a secret was a mutual decision; the fallout on both sides being something neither of you could be bothered to deal with right now. Instead, you were happier hiding in empty classrooms where you could have your fill of the Slytherin Prince, and he could whisper sweet nothings in your ear without the risk of anyone overhearing.

There were times when it was stressful; when the week had been too long and there had been no time to see one another. It was only then that you questioned the secrecy of your relationship.

But when you came together after a long period apart; everything returned back to normal and a smile found its way back to both your faces.

Your excitement for the evening makes it almost impossible to eat; picking at the food on your plate as you think about finally seeing Draco tonight. From your position at the Hufflepuff table, you have an excellent view of him, and he knows it. All evening, Draco sends you subtle winks and smiles from his seat at the Slytherin table.

You clench your fist; your fingernails biting into the sensitive skin of your palm as you resist the urge to throw yourself across both tables to him. You resist the urge to simply kiss him in front of his housemates.

You resist it all; every single feeling and urge because you know that in a matter of hours, he would be yours for the entire night.

Instead, you send a flirty smile back to the blonde-haired teenager before returning your attention back to your meal.

-----

The Room of Requirement is located on left hand corridor of the Seventh Floor. You knew from how he rushed out of the Great Hall that Draco would beat you to it.

With a large grin on your face, you walk past the section of wall opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy three times. The entire time, thinking of Draco and how you’d like to see him.

On your third walk past, the large, ornate door appears. You don’t hesitate to pull it open and duck inside.

It’s never a different layout; always the same one that Draco imagines. A large, almost cavernous room with a grand fireplace that’s already lit and warming up the room. In front of the fire sits a couch big enough for an entire Quidditch squad but you know from experience that it’s perfect for the two of you to lie down on comfortably. A great bookshelf covers one of the walls; filled to the brim with ancient looking tomes and books, all there ready to read. You’ve taken advantage of such an offer in the past; reading to Draco after a particularly bad day.

Finally, pushed up against the furthest wall is a four poster bed covered in a thick, downy quilt and topped with blankets – both green and yellow to represent both houses. It was the cheesiest section of the room, and you had brought it up to Draco before – teasing him, but he simply shrugged and distracted you from further conversation.

You throw your outer robes on the bed, leaving you in your blouse, tie and skirt.

Draco remains seated on the large couch; his gaze focused on the flickering flames of the growing fire. Your arms snake their way around his shoulders; your hands trailing down his chest as you lean against the back of the couch. Pressing a small kiss just under his earlobe, you whisper, “I missed you today.”

Draco leans his head back, kissing the side of your jaw, “I missed you too.”

Letting go of him, you take a seat on the couch. In times like this, you never stray too far from the blonde-haired teenager, worried about how long it’ll be until you have a night like this again. An arm opens for you; you automatically press yourself into his side, inhaling the familiar scent of cashmere musk and roses. It was heavenly.

“How was your day?” He asks, voice quiet.

“It was boring until a note landed on my desk. Then it started to look up.”

Draco smirks, “How odd. Mine was taking the exact same route until someone responded to my note.”

You shift out of his hold; resting your head on your elbow that’s perched on the back of the couch. Your other hand pushes his hair back; pulling it out his eyes. He’s grown it longer over this year and stopped using so much product; it’s nice, more natural and a lot easier for you to run your hands through.

You open your mouth; trying to think of something to say but nothing comes to mind.

It doesn’t matter anyway.

Draco captures your lips in his. One of his hands settling on the back of your head whilst the other pulls you across his lap to straddle him. You smile into the kiss as your hands brace themselves on the back of the couch.

Breaking the kiss, you ask, “What was that for?”

He shrugs, “Nothing. I just missed you.”

“You’re missing me an awful lot.”

He kisses the underside of your jaw, “Can you blame me?”

You hum, “I don’t think I can. I’m missing you more too.”

“Then let’s not miss each other anymore,” Draco murmurs against your skin. Lifting his head just enough, he draws you in for another kiss effectively ending all conversation for the night.

-----------

You wake up tangled in the sheets of the four poster bed; Draco’s arm heavy across your waist.

As your eyes get used to the brightness of the room, they focus in on the clock on the beside table. Your eyes grow wide as you take in the time.

You’d slept through the lesson of the day already.

You launch yourself out of bed, shrugging off your pyjamas and rustling around to find your uniform.

“Draco!” You shout, pushing your arms through a shirt, “We need to get up, we’ve missed the first hour.”

Draco rolls over, groaning. Fastening your skirt, you kneel on the bed, “Love, we have to get up before the bell.”

He blinks his eyes open, grinning sleepily at you. Your resolve almost breaks then and there; happy to say to hell with it and get back into bed with him.

“I’m free second lesson,” Draco mutters.

You roll your eyes, kissing his lips briefly, “I’ll see you later?”

He nods, stretching his arms above his head, “I’ll see you later.”

Grabbing your outer robes and your bag, you rush from the Room of Requirement, fastening your tie as you bound down the stairs to Transfiguration.

“Where have you been?” is how you’re greeted by Miriam, your close friend and dorm mate.

You shrug, biting your lip knowing that there was no way you could lie yourself out of this.

Miriam narrows her eyes at you, “You never came back to the room after dinner and then you didn’t show up at breakfast. I was seriously worried. Where did you go?”

You look either side of you; checking that there’s no-one listening to your conversation, “Can you keep a secret?”

Miriam rolls her eyes, “Of course I can.”

“I was with Draco Malfoy,” You rush out in a single breath.

Miriam’s eyes widen and she pulls you to one side, “You were with Draco Malfoy? All night?”

You nod your head. Miriam puffs out a breath, “Well I didn’t expect that. How long have you been seeing each other? Tell me everything please!”

You laugh, “It’s almost ten months now, and I’ll tell you more at lunch, I promise.”

Miriam bites her bottom lip; glancing between you and the now open door to Transfiguration, deliberating whether it would be worth skiving the entire day to hear about your exploits with the Slytherin Prince.

She sighs heavily, deciding not to risk McGonagall’s wrath, “I want to hear everything at lunch – do not leave anything out, promise.”

Laughing once more, you cross your finger over your heart, “I promise.”

-----

Until lunch, Miriam sends you excited glances and knowing smiles. In between second and third period, she comments on the fact that she didn’t even think that you were seeing someone – not to insult you, but she just assumed that you holed yourself up in the library where you studied as late as you could.

Miriam practically bounces up to you when the bell rings announcing lunch. She keeps her questions to herself until you both take a seat at the Hufflepuff table, filling plates up with whatever took your fancy.

“So how did it start?”

You take a sip of pumpkin juice before beginning, “Over last summer, my family got invited to one of the many balls thrown by his parents. I don’t usually go to those things, but my parents asked me to join them this one time; I think they were worried because I’d spent too much time in the garden studying the plants. So I went with them and Draco’s father asked him to ask me to dance and it all stemmed from there.

“He sent me a letter the day after thanking me for an entertaining evening and wondered whether I would want to meet up again. I agreed and then from there it evolved into this.”

Miriam’s smile drops into a frown when she asks her next question, “Why keep it a secret? Was it his decision?”

You shake your head fiercely, “It was both ours. We were both equally as worried about the fallout from our families and our houses.”

“But surely if Lucius Malfoy asked Draco to dance with you, he wouldn’t mind?”

You tilt your head, thinking, “Perhaps not. He wouldn’t mind the blood status, but he might mind my being a Hufflepuff,” You shrug, “Anyway we haven’t gone public yet.”

“Ten months is a long time to keep this a secret.”

“It’s not like it hasn’t been hard and that there haven’t been times where I wanted to shout it to the entire wizarding world, but for now, it’s a secret.”

Miriam nods; the frown still expressed on her face. She reaches out her hand to yours, taking it tightly, “You’ve told me now though so that’s a shoulder to lean on should it get too much again.”

You beam at your friend, “Thank Merlin for you, Miriam.”

Miriam goes to reply but she’s distracted by someone approaching the Hufflepuff table. She lets go of your hand and nods her head to something behind you.

Turning in your seat, you find Draco patiently waiting. You smile at him, “Draco, how can I help?”

“I was hoping I could talk to you for a minute… about our last History of Magic lesson? You see, I didn’t take any notes and I was wondering if you had some.”

You smirk, “Why don’t we go outside? That way I’m not cluttering up the table for the others that are still eating.”

Draco grins, nodding at you understandingly, “Wonderful idea. Lead the way.”

Hoisting your bag on your shoulder, you send a wink in Miriam’s direction. She returns one with a laugh before beginning to eat once again.

Draco follows you from the Great Hall and to a less busy corridor. You lean against the wall with a smirk, “Now did you really want my notes, or did you already miss me?”

“More the latter than the former,” Draco admits with a small smile. He frowns though as he takes in your uniform, his eyes running up and down, “Is that my shirt?”

You look down at your clothing, only now realising that the shirt you had put on in a hurry this morning was indeed Draco’s. The arms being too long that you had to roll them twice before you could even start writing something.

You giggle, “I think it is.”

“I only wondered when I had to walk back to my common room shirtless.”

“No!” You shout, delighted at the thought of Draco running shirtless through the corridors.

Draco laughs, nodding, “I had my outer robes of course, but there was very little underneath.”

You clap your hands in sheer delight, “I’d give you back your shirt, but I’ve become awfully fond of it, you see.”

“Oh you have?”

Nodding, you say, “I have. It smells a lot like you which is great for when I miss you.”

Draco groans, throwing his head back, “If we weren’t in public, I’d be kissing you senseless right now. I didn’t realise how good you would look in my shirt.”

“Why don’t you?” You challenge.

Draco’s mouth drops open, “What?”

“Kiss me senseless.”

“Are you sure? We’ve kept this secret for so long,” Draco comments, a finger pointing between your two bodies.

You shuffle closer to him, “I’m sure. Ten months is long enough to keep you a secret, I’m happy to tell everyone now.”

Draco wraps you in his arms, not hesitating to kiss you. You gave yourself entirely to the kiss; pushing yourself off the wall and wrapping your arms around his neck. Your heart skips a beat when one of Draco’s hands starts to draw aimless patterns on the small of your back, sending heat rushing through your body. You sigh against his mouth before pulling away; repressing the urge to continue as the need for oxygen has become too great.

He presses one last gentle peck to your lips before grinning widely, ���Are you really sure you want to go public?”

“Super sure. So sure in fact I’d make out with you again to prove my point.”

Draco raises an eyebrow, “Tempting but I say we go back to lunch. I think your friend had more questions.”

You grin at the thought of Miriam’s reaction to see you walking with Draco, “It sounds too good to pass up,” You hold your hand out to Draco, “Lead the way.”

It was all worth it when Miriam’s reaction to seeing you sit back down at the Hufflepuff table with Draco in tow was to spit out her pumpkin juice.

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

General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen​ @obsessedwithrandomthings​ @harrypotter289​ @dreamer821​ @kalimagik​ @heloisedaphnebrightmore​ @nebulablakemurphy​ @the-hufflefluffwriter​ @figlia--della--luna​ @bforbroadway​ @idont-knowrn​ @summer-writes​ @big-galaxy-chaos​ @black-lake-confessions​ @annasofiaearlobe​ @imboredandneedalife​ @levylovegood​ @mytreec​ @haphazardhufflepuff​ @teheharrypotter​ @chaoticgirl04​ @accio-rogers​ @msmimimerton​ @izzytheninja​ @slytherinprincess03​ @iamobscuring​

Draco Malfoy taglist: @the--queen-of-hell​ @obx-beach​ @obxmxybxnk​ @sycathorn-slush​ @dracomalfoyswifey​

[vickiabelson]

Today, Live @5, Paula Poundstone! No one makes me laugh harder or more oft, and there's no one more fun to watch a movie, play ping pong, or hang with. All funny, all the time. 

American Comedy and Cable Ace Award Winner, Wait Wait…Don’t Tell Me!, Inside Out, PAULA POUNDSTONE has guested on every daytime, and nighttime talk show that's ever been. The funny does not get funnier. As brilliant as she is on stage, I've found her to be even more so in life if that's even possible. Every time she’s sat down with me, I’ve laughed so hard, I’ve cried, not little tears––water streaming down my face the entire time, gasping for breath––in the good way. 

That's a lotta build-up for anyone. I'm confident. Paula never disappoints.

Check out her podcast, Nobody Listens to Paula Poundstone (I do), or better yet, see her live- for tour dates and all things Paula: 

I can't wait. I need the eggs.

PAULA POUNDSTONE Live on Game Changers With Vicki Abelson

Wed, March 15, 5 pm PT, 8 pm ET

Streaming Live on The Facebook

Daily by Toni Vincent & @peter_and_paul_ Cartoons

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[sarroora]

I posted 1,110 times in 2022

101 posts created (9%)

1,009 posts reblogged (91%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@sarroora

@spongebobssquarepants

@modmad

@its-ok-to-smile

@elegyofemptiness42

I tagged 907 of my posts in 2022

Only 18% of my posts had no tags

#queue up - 438 posts

#pokemon - 55 posts

#fave - 35 posts

#pokemon legends arceus - 30 posts

#duckverse - 29 posts

#rk800 connor - 24 posts

#dbh - 21 posts

#donald duck - 21 posts

#artists on tumblr - 18 posts

#ducktales - 16 posts

Longest Tag: 135 characters

#so i have to deal with the grief of my beloved’s passing and fork over half of what they own to some government officials coz they died

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

I hope yall watching the World Cup shenanigans on TikTok

Because it’s glorious.

Like it’s such a breath of CLEAN, FRESH air when you watch something through channels that aren’t completely defiled to hell and back by hypocritical and racist western media. 

Just simply, watching the people have the time of their lives, exploring a new culture, trying to speak each other’s languages, learning each other’s dances, etc. just fills me with so much hope and joy. 

I have to limit my use of the app so it doesn’t take over my life BUT THESE ARE JUST A FEW OF THE FUNNIEST AND LOVIELIEST THINGS I SAW:

JungKookie and the Kookies (BTS)

Foreigners discovering Arabian beauty up close? Like so many people are falling in love with the Qatari artist Fahad Al-Kubaisi

Saudian fan reactions going absolutely BONKERS, [2]

The #WhereIsMessiGuy. Some people find him annoying. Others find him hilarious. He keeps crashing news reports. You be the judge

Amazing mishmash of dances from different cultures after matches.

Fans trying to talk to each other and obviously not understanding anything the other is saying and resigning to signing is one of the funniest things I’ve seen this week

The guy casually telling his boss he won’t be in for work the next day on TV and the journalist losing it 

Saudians and Japanese sword/katana fighting each other in the street

The Saudian and Japanese wins spurred a million memes of pure hilarity. Oh, and everyone wants a Saudia / Japan final showdown. Anime Style!

The fact that middle eastern fans are tagging the Japanese team ‘The Grandchildren of Captain Tsubasa’ sent me

The Sassy Prince becoming an internet celebrity overnight. I feel bad about this one tho. I hope the kid’s ok and keeps his privacy. Chinese fans are literally drawing fanart of him

Men being super invested in the traditional Qatari garb and headgear is super cool. So many reels of foreigners learning how to wear it properly and walking around with it through the city

THE LATIN AMERICAN FANS ARE ABSOLUTE DARLINGS

SO ARE THE ASIAN FANS. 

AFRICAN, ASIAN and LATIN AMERICAN FANS ARE GETTING ALONG AMAZINGLY. SO GOOD TOGETHER IN SPITE OF THE LANGUAGE BARRIER!

THE BRAZILIANS ARE HAVING THE TIME OF THEIR LIVES. Oh, and they ‘kidnapped’ an Arabian reporter while celebrating. He was taken away on their shoulders, laughing his head off

Closeup of a player waving to his fans. Grown men becoming 5 again and waving back so joyfully <3

Roleplaying in the streets

The endearing videos of tourists walking around Doha at 2:00am, marveling at the safety and peace of the city. It’s true, Qatar is extremely safe even late at night

Egyptian memes living vicariously through Saudia coz we weren’t eligible this time

People taking videos of the public bathrooms and clean and LUXUROIUSLY DESIGNED they are. LISTEN THE BATHROOMS LOOKED LIKE A 7-STAR HOTEL BATHROOM WHAT

#IsraelLeftOnReadIRL tag. A lot of reports of people from various countries refusing to do interviews with Israeli news reporters just further proves that governments do not really mirror the true sentiment of the individual. Governments strive to maintain diplomatic relations, but I have so much respect for based individuals who don’t sell out on their personal morals

(I’m aware that because of how TikTok works geographically, a lotta people on the western side of the world may not be getting a lot of this stuff. If you’d like me to send some your way, just let me know and I can share through my TikTok.)

424 notes - Posted November 25, 2022

#4

577 notes - Posted March 10, 2022

#3

And here we see, in the latest episode of the trash series, ‘AI Art’ business models

And here’s the gorgeous original work he painstakingly created:

See the full post

1,074 notes - Posted November 20, 2022

#2

Someone at the gym today was playing a tune suspiciously similar to the Wii theme music as they worked out and I don’t know why they’d do something so controversial yet so hilariously fitting

1,284 notes - Posted January 18, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

So this is Italy and I couldn’t stop laughing - the best part was the comment section - us Mediterranean people relate SO MUCH it really be like that XD

See the full post

6,902 notes - Posted July 6, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

Just a Thought Away | Owen Patrick Joyner

Request:  Could you do a soulmate au with Charlie or Owen, whichever you're more comfortable with, where they can hear each other's thoughts or the music they listen to?

A/N: Made it an Owen one shot since I don’t have many requests for Owen! Hope this is what you expected and you like it! :) 

Pairing: Owen Joyner x Fem!reader

Warnings: Very minor swearing 

Words: 4,175

Another note: Anything in bold and italics is a thought! 

Songs used: Pump It - Black Eyed Peas

Growing up, Y/N’s mother told her these stories about soulmates and how every person on this earth would be assigned a soulmate by their guardian angel at 16. People would be able to hear their thoughts and the songs they were listening to or singing would be playing in their head as though it was just stuck in their head.  Of course, as a child, Y/N used to believe her every word and would be clinging to those words. She’d fantasize about her soulmate and where she’d meet them or what music they’d be into. She’d keep her eyes on every person in Middle School and even High School, trying to see if she could just find them. Not like there would be any physical notabilities, but she liked fantasizing about it.  By the time Y/N turned 16, she had almost forgotten about the whole soulmate thing. Her birthday was months ago and nothing ever happened. She never heard a song play in her head she didn’t know or hadn’t had any thoughts that didn’t belong to her. She was pretty certain all of those soulmate stories her mother told her were fake.  Until July 19th 2016. That’s when she first starts noticing some things. To start off the day, the song ‘Happy Birthday’ is stuck in her mind and it’s not even her birthday or anyone else’s in the family or friend group that could’ve provided that song in her head.  During the afternoon of that day, Y/N suddenly hears a humming in her mind that quickly changes into a full-on made-up song that no one close to her would ever sing.  “Mmh, Cake, cake, I like cake Cake, cake, I like cake.” She can’t help but laugh, though. She’d been studying for many hours without taking a break, it’s starting to mess with her brain a little. Y/N’s teachers have been giving so much work lately, she’s nearly drowning in it and it’s far from done. Sophomore year is possibly one of the hardest, in her opinion, and having the need to maintain a social life really doesn’t help with that. She hasn’t been to a party for weeks. She’s starting to crave human contact and dancing and having fun with friends and not sleeping until the sun rises.  Though that last part sounds very appealing when you’re at a party, it doesn’t when you’re in bed and trying to sleep. She’s woken up by loud music thumping in her ears. It sounds almost as though the neighbors are having a party next door, but when she gets up and walks outside the house, she realizes the house next door is completely dark. There’s no movement whatsoever. She must’ve hallucinated, but then why is she still hearing this loud music?  That’s when it dawned on her that the soulmate stories her mother used to tell are real. As a matter of fact, the songs she’d been hearing all day long were the songs her soulmate was listening to or singing. It must’ve been their 16th birthday, which they are now celebrating at a party. She always thought it’d be more fun and romantic to have a soulmate and hear them sing and think, but it’s actually pretty annoying. And it’s only the first day. This is going to be fun. 

“Morning, sweetie,” Y/N’s mother greets when she stumbles into the kitchen the next morning. She hasn’t slept one bit. Her soulmate has been partying all night and only got home by 6am, which was two hours ago. “Oh, you look rough! Are you feeling okay?” “I haven’t slept all night because my stupid soulmate was out partying all night.” Her eyes widen at this, as does her smile. “They turned 16 yesterday, so I guess that’s why I never heard anything yet on my birthday.” “Oh, yeah! You both need to be 16 before the whole soulmate-thing starts to work,” she informs her daughter and hands a cup of fresh, steaming-hot coffee. “Do you know anything about them yet?” She shakes her head before taking a careful sip from the goddess liquid --as she and her siblings call it. “No, I kinda thought it was my brain hallucinating from studying so much, so I couldn’t really think of a way to converse with them.” Her head snaps up as an idea crosses her mind. “How do you converse with your soulmate, mom?” She shoots her a tender, relieved smile, happy she can finally properly inform Y/N about it instead of those folklore stories. “You just think what you wanna ask them and they hear it,” she replies. “So, if I let my inside voice just yell ‘shut up!’, they’ll hear too?” Her mother chuckles, nodding her head in response. “Good! I ought to try that whenever they’re singing about their cake again.” Her mother laughs at that before leaving her in the kitchen, so she can get ready for work. Her soulmate is seemingly still asleep, which she would’ve been too if it wasn’t for work. Y/N works at a coffee shop on the weekends, just to get some experience and earn a little bit of money for her shopping addiction. Maybe right now would be a perfect moment to avenge her soulmate for keeping her up all night last night. So, while getting ready, she puts on some music on her laptop. With the volume on maximum, she starts belting the One Direction song along at the top of her lungs. “You and me got a whole lotta history!” It takes a while before a loud ‘SHUT UP!’ echoes through her mind. A teasing smile tugs at the corners of her lips as she stops singing. “That’s what you get for keeping me up all night, sweetie” she thinks, hoping it’ll come through. For a moment, she thinks it might not work like that until a boy’s voice floats through her brain. “Who’s this?” She chuckles, pausing the music and taking a seat at her desk. “Y/N Y/L/N. Ever heard of those soulmate folklore stories?” She starts doing her make-up whilst waiting for his response. “Yea, my father used to tell me those. I thought they were fairy tales?” “So did I. Turns out they’re real!” This feels so weird. “You just turned 16, right?” “Yeah, yesterday! How’d you know?!” he asks, and it makes her realize he might not be the brightest tool in the shed. “Because I turned 16 in January and I didn’t hear anything until yesterday…” A silence falls over the conversation. Either it’s not working anymore or he’s digesting all this information. “You heard me singing to my cake, didn’t you?” he finally asks instead, and Y/N can even hear him chuckle. “Yep! I thought I was hallucinating because I was studying so hard,” she lets out a chuckle too. “Happy belated birthday, by the way.” “Oh, thanks! I’m Owen, by the way. Owen Joyner.” She has heard that name before, but she’s got no clue where, though. Making a mental note to Google it later, she grabs the mascara and adds the finishing touches to her makeup. “Nice to meet you, Owen. I gotta get going though. Have to be at work in about…” She glances at the clock on her wall, her eyes widening when she sees the time. “Five minutes. See ya! Or… Hear ya?!” She hears Owen chuckle in her mind. “Yeah, I’ll hear ya,” he says, then a yawn-like sound buzzes through her, giving her the urge to yawn too. “Sorry for waking you up,” she quickly adds before running out of the house. Her mind’s going over a million excuses as to why she would be late to work, but none of them sound quite plausible. Especially not the truth. “Go with ‘the neighbors had a party last night and I overslept’-excuse, Y/N,” she hears Owen’s voice again, “Now stop thinking, I wanna sleep!” She chuckles, shaking her head. “Thanks, Owen. And I wanna sleep too, but I can’t, now can I? Me awake means you awake. Deal with it.” She can even hear a disgruntled groan, meaning he’s probably getting up because her thoughts won’t stop running through his mind. That night, she figures out he's the Owen Joyner, aka Crispo Powers from “100 things to do before High School”, a TV-show she’d watched almost daily in the last two years. She asks him about that too, and he explains the whole auditioning and filming process and how much fun it was for a first acting gig. He asks about her life too, and the two of them bond over thoughts. This whole soulmate-thing is still very whack. But, to be completely honest, she kind of loves it. It’s like having an angel on your shoulder, telling you what the best option for your dilemma is. Though, most times, Owen is more likely the devil. Which is what Y/N needs most times. The most fun thing about this whole Soulmate-connection thing, have to be the dance parties the two of them hold at night, unless she has to get to work the following day and Owen won’t stop singing at the top of his lungs. One night, he was singing Pump It by the Black Eyed Piece at 3am. She’d groaned at first, hoping that’ll subtly tell him to shut up, but it didn’t work at all. He just kept rapping the verses, keeping Y/N awake and annoyed. “Come on, baby, do it” She decides to finally give in, knowing he’s not going to stop until she starts singing along. So, she sits up straight in her bed, and belts the lyrics at the very top of her lungs, not even caring about anyone in the house hearing. “La-da-di-dup-dup die dy On the stereo Let those speakers blow your mind” “Blow my mind, baby” She chuckles at his interruption. “To let it go, let it go Here we go La-da-di-dup-dup die dy” “C'mon, we're there” “On the radio The system is gonna feel so fine” He stops singing then and a silence falls over the both of them. Y/N can’t lie, in the past couple of years as she’d grown closer to him, spending every waking -- and sleeping -- moment together, she’d started developing some feelings for Owen Patrick Joyner too. It’s ridiculous because she’d never seen him in real life. She knows everything about him and she knows what he looks like, but she doesn’t know what his hugs feel like, or what his cologne smells like. “You’re a great singer, Y/N,” he finally breaks the silence, “I’m gonna let you sleep now, kay? Good night, baby girl.” Of all the pet names he’d given her so far, Baby Girl, Princess and Gorgeous were her favorites. All of them with a platonic tendency, though, much to her dismay. “Good night, O-bear,” she whispers back before tucking herself into bed again. Then finally, in 2019, Owen and a couple of people from the cast and crew of Julie and The Phantoms, his latest project Y/N was most excited about, decided to make a trip to New York City, her hometown. To say she’s excited would be the understatement of the year. She’d finally be able to hug him and talk to him properly and show him around her hometown and get to know the rest of the cast she’d heard so much about. But among the excitement also hides a little bit of nerves. After years of talking to him by just thinking, she’d finally see him in real life. What if things get awkward? What if it’s not what she expects? What if he’s only so beautiful in her mind? Y/N is walking around the coffee shop, wiping down tables and jumping up every time a new customer enters, thinking it’s Owen. He knows where she works on the weekends, and promised to find her there the minute he’d gotten settled in his hotelroom. “Ooh, pretty girl over there.” Her stomach churns as she hears his thoughts. He forgets about the whole soulmate-connection thing sometimes and just lets it out unfiltered. She knows he doesn’t like her the same way she likes him, and he’s allowed to look at other girls and think they’re pretty, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. “All around the world pretty girls,” he sings the famous Britney Song. “Mostly at coffee shops, yeah I’m talking about  you, pretty girl.”  A soft rap on the window next to Y/N makes her snap out of her focus on Owen’s voice. When she looks up, there’s a tall, blonde man waving at her through the glass with the biggest smile on his face. A flutter erupts in her stomach whilst her mouth involuntarily curls up into the widest smile she’d ever managed. She gestures at him to come in and hastily makes her way to the door herself. The second he walks inside, she launches herself into his arms. Wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, she holds him tight and inhales the smell of his cologne. He smells of the most divine combination of spearmint and musk. Just as she’d imagined him smelling like. “I can’t believe this,” she hears him think, which makes her chuckle. “You know you can actually talk to me right now, right?” she tells him, pulling away slightly so she can look at his face. There’s a slight stubble growing on his cheeks and chin, and his eyes look even prettier in real life than on a phone screen. “Right, yeah,” he chuckles, Y/N’s new favorite sound in the world. “Old habits die hard.” She smiles down at him whilst the two of them just stare at each other, basking in the fact they’re finally meeting. “She’s even prettier up close.” YN/ blushes at the compliment, and combes her fingers through his hair. “Oh, fuck, you heard that. Sorry!” “It’s cool. You’re pretty up close too.” This makes him chuckle. The whole thing is still bat-shit crazy. Both of them have gotten weird commentary whenever they told friends and family how they communicate with their soulmate. Most people just start texting and calling when they find their soulmate, but they didn’t. This whole new way of conversing was way too much fun, though a little annoying at times. And especially now that they’re in the same place together, it’s even more fun because no one else knows they’re talking to each other. A soft cough behind Owen causes Y/N to snap back into reality. Peeking behind the boy’s head, there are three other guys, staring at the scene with wide smiles playing at their lips. Two of them are about the same age as them, but the other one is older. Older but very, very famous. Y/N herself is a big fan of his work. The legend, Kenny Ortega himself. “You might wanna introduce me to your friends over there,” she tells her best friend. Owen takes a quick peek behind him, realizing he’d forgotten about his friends that had come along with him to meet the infamous Y/N. He puts the girl down on her feet again before turning to the three men. “Guys, this is Y/N Y/L/N. Gorgeous, these are Jeremy, Charlie, and Kenny.” He points to each of them when their respective names are called. Y/N offers them a wave and smile, not sure if she should go straight in for the hug like she’d done with Owen. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Y/N,” says Kenny as he opens his arms and embraces the girl. Said girl is now completely starstruck in a way she’d never been before, and she’d met a few of her favorite actors or artists. None of them made her feel this way. “You too, Kenny,” she manages to bring out when they pull apart, “Big fan of your work!” All she’s hoping right now is that she doesn’t sound too creepy. “You’re all good, Princess. Breathe.” Owen’s voice calms her down just in time for Charlie to engulf her into a hug too, and then Jeremy does the same. “Why don’t you guys take a seat, and I’ll make you some coffee before I’m off for today?” she suggests, and after hums of assent, the girl takes their orders and gets back to work. “There you go,” she mumbles as she places the coffees on the table and then distributes them correctly before sliding into the booth next to Owen. “So, what are your plans for today?” she asks. “Just some touristy bits,” Charlie replies with a shrug, “Any recommendations for us?” Y/N thinks about it for a while, knowing Owen can hear her thoughts. “Why don’t you come along?” Owen’s voice echoes through your brain. “Why don’t I take you guys around to the best spots no tourist will ever find?” she suggests, earning a thankful smile from Owen. “I think I knew a few places I could take you to?” All three other men agree to your suggestion. So, after you all finish your coffees and you’ve given them your employer’s discount, the five of you leave the coffee shop and hit the streets of New York City. “This is where I proposed to Care!” Jeremy exclaims excitedly as you’re sharing a couple stories from your childhood in Central Park. The guys have told a little more about their own lives, too, so Y/N felt comfortable enough to talk so freely and unfiltered about her own childhood, not noticing the way Owen melts at how adorable she looks being so excited about her childhood memories. “Re-enact it, Jer!” Owen exclaims excitedly as he scurries away from Y/N’s side and jumps down the small flight of stairs in one swift hop. Jeremy follows his best buddy and kneels down in front of him as if really proposing. Y/N takes her phone out of her back pocket and snaps a picture of the beautiful scene, giggling as she does, along with Kenny and Charlie. “The cutest couple!” the girl compliments, jamming her phone back into her pocket. “When’s the wedding?” Kenny adds, his laugh thundering. Owen lets out an airy laugh while Jeremy gets up again, the two of them rejoining the rest of the group. Y/N just knows this day will forever be the best day of her life. She just knows it’s going to be her favorite day ever for so many reasons; the laughs, the jokes, the friendship that’s building between all five of you, but mostly Owen. That night, Y/N goes back to the hotel with them too as Owen had asked her to hang out a little while longer and watch some movies with him. He’d asked the others too, but they were ‘too tired’. That’s an excuse Y/N could see from a mile away. They just wanted to give the two of them some quality time, which she appreciated very much. “I had the best day,Bubba,” she mumbles as she snuggles closer to him. She has her head on his chest whilst his arm is draped around her shoulders. It almost feels as though they’ve been doing this for years. “Me too, Baby Girl. Thanks for showing us around.” He presses a kiss to her hair, inhaling the luscious scent of peach, and deciding that’s his new favorite scent from now on. “Sucks we’re leaving tomorrow night,” he mumbles sadly. “Yeah… I know…” The words come out of her mouth in a whisper. “Wonder when we’ll see each other again.” She’d forgotten for a split second about him being able to hear her thoughts until he answers the half-statement with another question. “Will you come visit Norman Oklahoma soon?” She looks up at him, her nose grazing his stubbled chin, causing him to look down. “I really don’t wanna go another three years without seeing you, Gorgeous. I don’t think I can handle that, especially now that I’ve learned you’re a great cuddler.” Y/N chuckles at that before resettling on his chest properly. “I think I can make something work next month?” She starts tracing the patterns of his shirt, sending shivers down Owen’s spine at the sheer touch of her delicate fingers. “I think I can miss a few classes.” The chuckle that escapes past his lips, makes his chest vibrate and zooms into her ears, making her mouth curl up. This is the best feeling in the world; cuddling up with Owen and hearing him laugh. It’s a feeling Y/N wouldn’t trade for anything in the world. She wishes she could just stay like this forever. Or at least until the next day. Y/N has classes to get to, but promises Owen to come and say goodbye to him and the others at JFK airport around 8pm that night. And she does, though dreading it entirely. “You made it,” Owen whispers when he sees her walk up to the group. “Of course, I couldn’t just let you go back to Van City without saying goodbye, could I?” A tender smile plays at his lips as he takes her into a tight hug. “Have a safe flight, yeah? And talk to me on the plane if you’re bored.” She tells him and then turns to the three other men she’d just met yesterday. “Take good care of him and each other,” she tells them before taking each into a hug. Owen then offers her a nervous smile when she makes it back to his side. “Hey, you okay?” she asks, grabbing his hand in hers. “No,” her eyebrows furrow at his unspoken confession. “Yes, I mean yes. I’m fine. I’m okay… I just--” he cuts himself off, not knowing what to tell the girl now. “I’m just gonna miss you, is all.” “Oh…” is all she brings out, wanting something else to come out of his mouth. “I’m gonna miss you too, Big O.” She playfully punches his shoulder, smiling up at him with that smile that’s only ever reserved for Owen. It’s a tender one where her eyes sparkle as much as her smile. Owen then grabs her other hand too, pulling her a little closer as though he wants to say something serious. Y/N isn’t used to a serious Owen. He’d always be the one to pull pranks or make stupid jokes that’d make her laugh until her belly ached. He stutters and stumbles over a couple of words, then sighs frustratedly as he can’t seem to find the right words to tell her what he’s feeling. He can’t even find the right words to think. “Just kiss her, you dork!” Charlie shouts from the sidelines. Y/N turns her head to look at the boy confusedly, but Owen’s hands quickly cup her face and brings her up to press his lips on hers. She’s a little startled at first, unsure about what’s happening. But then she melts into his lips and into him, grabbing a fistful of his shirt. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long!” his thought comes through in her mind, making her smile against his lips.   “Shut up, I’m kissing you.” He chuckles at her words, and pulls away but keeps his forehead pressed to hers. “I’ll see you in a month, Bubba,” Y/N whispers and pecks his lips once more. Though she hates to see him go, she has to let him leave. She has to let him get back to Vancouver and Oklahoma, and then she can see him again in about a month. It’s just how this must go. For now. “I’d rather stay, actually,” he tells her as he pulls away slowly. “Owen…” Y/N whispers, shaking her head, “Don’t make this harder than it already is. They need you in Vancouver…” she nods at Kenny and the guys. “I want you to stay, I do. But they need you.” A single tear rolls down her cheek. Owen reaches up and wipes it away as quickly as it came whilst shaking his head. “I’m gonna stay, Y/N. Just two more days.” He sounds too determined for her to convince him to go. “We don’t actually need him for two more days anyway, so he’s free to stay if he wants to,” Kenny chimes in. Y/N looks at the man talking, a surprised look on her face. The legend himself shoots her a smile. “Stay, Owen. Spend some more time together. You both need it.” “Thanks, Kenny,” Owen takes the guy in for a quick hug, and then turns to his buddies to give each of them one too. “I’ll see you in two days, then.” The couple watches as the three men walk away, their arms wrapped tightly around each other. “You really had to be dramatic, did you?” Y/N jokes once they’re out of earshot, which earns her an eye roll from Owen, though he can’t hide a smile either. “You know me, Baby Girl,” he winks before grabbing his bag. “Yes, I do,” she says, “And I’m glad I do.” “Me too, Gorgeous, me too.”

Taglist: @hannahhistorian92​ @marinettepotterandplagg​ @thequirkybookaholic​ @bookdealer5​ @tenaciousperfectionunknown​ @hemmingsness​ @iainttakingshitfromnobody​ @ifilwtmfc​ @angryknightstatesmantrash​ @kiss-themoongoodbye​ @rudysbay​ @thedarkqueenofavalon​​ @caitsymichelle13​​ @calamitykaty​ @wiselight​

[jujumin-translates]

[A3!] ★ Main Story | Act 15 - Painful RE:bake | Episode 7 - Something Useful

Kumon: Then you can enter your profile and--.

Taichi: What are you gonna do for your name?

Kumon: How about “Guardian of Darkness AZ”?

Azami: Absolutely not… There.

Kumon: …“ZAMI”?

Taichi: You’re not using your real name?

Azami: I’m thinkin’ of keepin’ my work outside of the company separate, just in case.

Azami: If people search for “Azami Izumida”, they might get a lotta unnecessary information other than stuff related to the troupe…

Taichi: So you wanna challenge yourself by starting with a blank slate, right?

Kumon: You can put if you’re accepting job offers here! And you can put a logo icon over here--.

Azami: Alright, here.

Taichi: Whoa, that’s so cool!

Azami: I mentioned this to Kazunari-san, and he finished it like crazy fast.

Azami: I said I’d pay for the design, but he said it was a celebration of me entering a new era and only let me pay for boba.

Kumon: That’s Kazu-san for you!

Taichi: This is Inste we’re talking about, so are you gonna post pics of your makeup?

Azami: Yeah. I asked if I could post pics of makeup looks I’ve tried with the troupe in the past, and everyone said it was okay.

Taichi: Everyone’s supporting you.

Azami: And that’s what I’ve gotta get decent results.

Kumon: Good luck, Azami~!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Azami: (...Damn, my follower count isn’t goin’ up at all.)

Azami: (I didn’t wanna rely on the official account or everyone’s personal accounts, so all I did was tag the work, but it really ain’t that easy, I guess.)

Azami: (I haven’t gotten any job offers either… I’ve hardly even started my challenge and I’ve already got a problem.)

Azami: …

Classmate A: Morning, Ibukichi!

Classmate B: Your lip color is so cute today!

Classmate A: And your nails are new too, right? I saw the video!

Ibuki: Yep, yep. I totally recommend.

Ibuki: --Ah, there you are.

Azami: ?

Ibuki: Izumida, bestie-- Your logo’s great, but you’re never gonna get a job offer with that bio. And tagging that doesn’t even make sense.

Ibuki: First off, someone should be able to tell at a gland what kinda person you are and what kinda work you do based on your bio, that’s why you need to blah, blah, blah--.

Azami: (...You’re remindin’ me of someone else I know.)

Ibuki: Are you listening? If you get what I’m saying, go fix that stuff now.

Azami: …

Azami: (The way they talk is annoyin’, but… I feel like what they’re sayin’ isn’t wrong.)

Azami: Is this good?

Ibuki: M’kay, I’ll boost you.

Ibuki: “My classmate made an account. He’s looking for work”.

Azami: Hey, don’t just go and--.

*Notifications*

Azami: Seriously…?

Azami: (My follower count is going up like crazy…)

Ibuki: Now we just gotta do a makeup vid collab and you’ll get even more followers.

Azami: …Fine.

Ibuki: Oh? …Wait, Izumida, why don’t you do your own makeup? All you do is do other people’s makeup.

Ibuki: Something can’t be useful if you don’t use it.

Azami: …It doesn’t matter why. My job is doing makeup for other people, so that’s all I need to know how to do.

Ibuki: A person’s face has like, a big impact on what people think of them, y’know? If you wanna get more followers, you can’t just do whatever you want.

Ibuki: Social media is rarely what you want it to be, and the world isn’t so nice that you can be found just by having good makeup skills.

Azami: --.

Ibuki: While you’re sitting there peacefully, our troupe is just gonna keep going even more viral.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

*Notification*

Ibuki: ?

Ibuki: Right… Today’s meeting. “Meet me at this shop after school” and send.

[ ⇠ Previous Part ] • [ Next Part ⇢ ]

[shimmershae]

My thoughts on Episode 9--No Other Way

As always, placed behind a cut for those of you that would rather escape my babbling, lol.  You’re welcome.  

Okay.  

It took a minute for my app to wake up.  It didn’t get the memo to rise and shine at 4 am like the rest of us--how much do I hate that work has trained my body to wake up at a set time everyday, no matter whether I want to or not, lol--but I guess it served me well in the end so.  

Anywho.  I had a bit of a wait.  Thus, time to think and let my brain get with the program and during this little siesta, I mulled whether my anticipation had ultimately been outweighed or overshadowed by dread thanks to the ongoing OTT celebrations from certain factions of fans.  

Spoiler alert:  turns out I really and truly don’t trust their judgment for shit, never have, and I’m too ready to see our babies to care about their never-ending hate campaign.  10/10 recommend this attitude to everybody.  It saves a whole lotta grief.  

Enough lead in.  Y’all ready?  In 3-2-1.  Shae’s stream of consciousness review coming right at ya.  

Okay, okay.  Maggie’s getting tossed around like a ragdoll by a big, burly NFL linebacker retiree/Reaper while those Angry Birds fireworks spears are screaming past her like missiles.  Cool opening.  Cool.  Whoa.  Is that what they call making a splashy entrance?  Or a dramatic AF exit?  

Well holy shit.  Just when did it change from me rolling my eyes and stifling a groan whenever I see Negan to breathing out a sigh of relief and feeling--I don’t know.  I wouldn’t call it happy exactly but I know at least he’s gonna spice up Maggie’s scenes so there’s that.  I will say though.  I didn’t realize how much I’d missed JDM--big difference, big distinction, what have you--until I saw his scruffy mug so yeah.  We’re gonna admit my crush (lifelong, lol, thanks to Denny, my beloved) is still going strong.  ; ) 

Personally, I think the mere fact Negan hasn’t ditched Elijah and run to save his own hide is earning him some reluctant, perhaps subconscious, definitely unwanted brownie points with Mags.  

I’ve always wanted a secret door to somewhere, lol, so that secret door in the infirmary delighted me much more than it should have.  I blame my love of A Secret Garden as a child.   

Ahhhhh!  I’ve missed the opening credits and the theme song and hearing it and knowing we’re essentially on a countdown to the last time is making me emotional. It really is.  That said, I do still prefer the original opening credits and would love if the show went all “retro” for the finale and had a new “old” version again.  Just to tie things up in a neat little bow of nostalgia.  It’ll never happen but oh how I wish it would.  

That shot of Rosita and Lydia going all Buffy the Vampire Slayer on the stair Walkers was simple but badass.  Love the girl power.  Oh and Dianne lives!  Only to die?  We shall see.  

The fuck do those things want in the basement so bad anyway?  Do Judith and Gracie smell like a couple of walking chicken nuggets to them?  A late night Taco Bell Cravings Box? You’d think they’d be most interested in all the people they keep trying to convince us are upstairs.  

Anyway.  Moving on.  

Yeah, no.  Make that 4 feet of water in the basement make sense.  I’ll wait.  

Jerry!  Aaron!  Oh wow.  My girl Carol looking beautiful as ever!  Listen.  Would I have liked to SEE her working with the superheroine sisters to save the walls?  Hell yeah.  But I’ll take what I can get because I was honestly afraid they were just gonna allude to her whereabouts offscreen after the shoddy treatment our leading lady got in 11A.  

Kelly being so reluctant to leave her sister’s side.  My heart.  I love them.  

Gracie’s whistle!  Aka, the call to the Undead Wild.  But whatever.  Baby girl got some lung power for Daddy Aaron to hear it over the storm.  Or maybe he just got Daddy ears and could hear that whistle anywhere like a dog hearing a dog whistle.  Yet more proof Aaron is half Golden Retriever/half human.  

Carol, Kelly, and Jerry are my kind of trio. I’d follow them anywhere. 

Well.  At least it’s partly cloudy with what looks like a chance of rain later at Meridian, lol.  

Father G--still hobbling to fight another day.  

Daryl--is that what they call a knife to the gut (sorry, lame, I know)?

It’s been so long since I bothered to watch any of the boring Reaper bullshit that I don’t remember if Austin is significant to Daryl’s latest prisoner/fake turncoat arc or not.  Kudos to the Reaper outside that door for dropping that name for me.  Other than asshole Carver, I can’t distinguish one from the other.  

Leah legit sours my throat with bile.  Maybe that’s what Angela Kang was going for.  I don’t know.  Someone forgot to send LCol the memo though.  Or else she immediately deleted it sight unseen for plausible deniability.  Even her voice triggers that upheaval response.  Ugh.  

Side note:  I actually feel bad for these dudes playing Reapers.  Unproblematically excited as far as I know and their story went over like a lead balloon.  

Daddy Aaron to the rescue!  Whoa.  Cool underwater shot with that Walker kill.  He saved our little girls.  Whew.  For a minute there I was worried about Judith.  Insert eyeroll emoji.  Judith handled that situation like a champ.  I was worried for Gracie, full stop, but at least it looks like they decided to spare Aaron.  Well, maybe not.  Oh shit.  

“Worry about yourself first.”  LMAO.  Father Savage is back, y’all.  Reaper priest almost had him. Or did he?  “No oneis above saving?”  Hmm. 

Maggie being chased by Carver like the final girl. Methinks she’s leading him into a trap.  At least I hope so.  

Really though?  A bat? Negan, man.  Choose another weapon.  Anyway. I do love the teamwork but you know that’s gotta be triggering AF.  

“Well.  Ding, ding.”  The way that made me LMAO.  It’s all in JDM’s delivery, y’all.  Think I’m gonna steal that for later.  

Maggie’s reluctant acknowledgment of gratitude to Negan is enough.  I’m tired of the retread dialogue but she owes him nothing she doesn’t want to give.  He gleefully murdered her husband.  The father of their unborn child.  He can keep trying to prove he’s changed but IMHO?  If she doesn’t want to accept it?  She doesn’t have to.  

The Elijah dude really made me feel  his pain over his sister with just his face and no words so kudos.  

C’mon, now.  I thought people were saying Daryl was yelling “Don’t” to Maggie about Leah.  LOL.  I mean, did LCol plant that suggestion to make it look like Daryl actually still give a shit?  

Smart move to use Carver.  Least I think.  We’ll see.  

Listen.  Team Family climbing around like Olympic Champion monkeys this ep. I could never.  Don’t have the arm strength, lol.  I’d be like that squirrel trying to climb that greased pole to the bird feeder.  Y’all know the one. 

Lydia saved Aaron?  My baby girl.  Oh my heart.  Wonder if this will change or move the needle somewhat on my boy’s perception that no Whisperer is worth saving or that they’re all bad?  Lydia saying “You would have done the same for me” truly made me pause because despite knowing his misgivings, knowing the times he hasn’t full on embraced her as family and one of their own, she still believes in his good heart, and it makes me cry for her.  That trust.  I loved the little pause on Aaron’s part before he answered her.  It’s almost like he didn’t realize he actually would and was surprised.  Anyway.  I think Lydia’s finally earned her standing with Aaron as one of the family and I could honestly see him going full protection mode for her in the future.  

Where is Dog in all this chaos?  Gnawing on some milk bones?  I hope he’s warm, dry, and well fed.  Little traitor, lol. 

Yeah, Leah’s a duplicitous bitch.  

Why does this feel like some kind of Western duel or standoff?  

“Nope. No Jenson/Jentzen (sp?) here.”  LMAO.  I do love me some savage ass Father G.  “Call me Gabriel.”  Negan’s face SENT me.  

Fucking go, Maggie.  I loved the dramatic music that accompanied that little piece of deserved and earned brutality.  ;)  Never mind I don’t know who the hell Elijah was talking about because they redshirts.  The world is down a bunch more boring ass Reapers and Negan knows he better toe some kind of line.  

Dammit, Daryl.  You dumbass.  She deserved DEATH not BREATH.  

There my boy Dog magically is.  Thank goodness they didn’t have Leah use him against Daryl in their ugly breakup.  My heart couldn’t have handled it.  

Maggie knows Alden’s dead.  C’mon.  That’s why she went alone.  They finally decided to remember the poor dude. Adam has had so many sets of parents.  Maybe Commonwealth has some kind of support group for that.  

All those crosses.  Ouch.  

Negan ain’t wrong.  Maggie gonna do what Maggie gonna do.  There goes any levity or tension to Maggie’s story, but you know what?  I’m here for it because your girl is TIRED of them having the same scene different verse over and over again.  

Carol looking out and watching for her bae like Daryl did after spending all night on that log with Negan and looking mighty fine doing it, I might add.  Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but did they raid a Cabela’s in between reinforcing walls, putting out fires, and playing lifeguard in the basement?  

Of course her man is the first one she sees.  

Judith running to Uncle Daryl always makes this girl smile.  Sue me.  I’m a sentimental fool.  

Look at Lydia’s happy little face.  

The way Carol almost fell into Daryl’s arms like a wife happy to see her husband home made my heart flutter.  You know she’s keeping her cool in front of the kids.  

Both my girls feeling some kind of way about Negan.  My, how times have  changed.  I wonder.  Will Lydia harbor any future resentment toward Maggie for this?  She didn’t know Glenn so she’s not as closeto the history there.  But she’s been an outsider so she identifies and empathizes with Negan somewhat. Future conflict between the two of them perhaps?  

Look at little RJ.  They keep that cute baby monosyllabic or silent, lol.  

Okay.  I bought Father G’s look at Rosita but girl looked kind of unimpressed, lol.  

How adorable is Coco?

OMFG. That’s what people been declaring canon over?  LMAO.  Whoever called it a Bro Shove was spot on.  All they needed was a basketball and a court and I could have seen them going to shoot some hoops later.  It had that kind of catch up feel.  It was cute.  I’ll give you that.  And it hinted at literally no romantic feelings or implications at all.  Daryl looks like he just got reunited with his sisters.  Y’all.  For real.  Put down the crackpipes if you forecasting marriage proposals because of this.  We good.  

Now the implications of Carol witnessing?  That screams jealous, insecure, disbelieving of her own worth love interest.  But antis gonna anti so of fucking course they see it as Carol shipping them when the truth is she is literally the only person on earth, fictional or real, that honestly and without ulterior motive, ships Daryl with happiness.  

And y’all.  Carol is literally framed between them.  She is 100% the reason why it’s not like that and she just doesn’t realize it.  At this point, the only person, ahem--people, in more willful denial are the shippers of the other ship.  

Stormtroopers on horseback.  Surely our nerd Jerry can appreciate this.  You know he’s a not so closeted Star Wars lover.  Has to be.  

Eugene running ahead saying “we’re all friends” made me giggle, okay.  Josh as Eugene has a very distinct gait/run and it never fails to make me laugh.  

Look.  If Daryl and Connie really were like *that*, realistically, who do you think he’d be standing within arms’ reach of lined up in front of some strange newcomers he for sure doesn’t trust?  Certainly not Carol.  C’mon, people.  Put your thinking caps on.  Shit goes down?  He wants Carol nearby just in case.  I swear.  Some people willfully dense AF.  

6 months later, huh?  I hate Angela’s apparent lady hard on for these time jumps but I do appreciate the idea that Maggie really said fuck slimy Lance Hornsby and his politician’s suit.  

Holy shit.  Daryl in stormtrooper gear demanding Maggie open up the gates of Hilltop.  WTF, lol.  

Who’s Stephen Campbell?  Anybody know?  Some digging is in order.   

So.  Some overall impressions because I figure if you’re still reading at this point, why the hell not?  

I love that shit actually got done.  

Maggie and Aaron were badass.  

Daryl was a dumbass letting Leah live.  Like that time they didn’t end the Governor, I fear this one will come back to bite them in the ass. 

Daryl’s reunion with Carol and the kids was heartwarming and felt like two marrieds that had been through it all a million times before reuniting and it had the right kind of understated flavor, considering they haven’t 100% cleared the air with each other.  

Daryl 100% views Connie as a sister.  Kelly too.  Only Carol and the antis think otherwise and only Carol’s reasons make gd sense.  

Lance is slimy AF.  

Lydia has my heart.  Girl saved a man she felt didn’t 100% have her back as a former Whisperer and Aaron felt small because he’d been wrong not to embrace her wholly.  

Aaron is such a good dad.  

Carol and Negan remain the only two that have the ability to cut through the bullshit and see the larger picture.  Except where Daryl is involved for Carol because her heart and her insecurities are too damn loud.  

Judith, Uncle Daryl scenes, however small?  Continue to warm my heart.  

RJ is literally just there as a peace offering for pissed off R!chonne fans to keep the lid on their rage, IMHO. He’s cute but so far?  A non-factor.  Because the mama that lost Andre so tragically would have never left him.  Ever.  I don’t care how people try to rationalize that OOC behavior to benefit their shipping preference/perspective.  I’ll die on this hill.  M!chonne as a character was done so dirty but I suppose backstage decisions dictated their options and they chose the least sensical one that pandered the most to the ship. They dampened my personal enjoyment in the process.  Here’s hoping they’ll find a way to right the ship in the future.

Father G and Rosita are still so mismatched.  Like I don’t even get the vibe she’s really into him.  More that she looked at the X’s and O’s and decided he best overall benefits Coco and okay, fair.  I don’t understand it but I do.  

Anywho.  I cannot wait for super spy Carol to take the Commonwealth down. 

The rest?  I’ll reserve judgment.  

Here comes Angela’s explanation points, lol.  Let’s see if I learn anything new.  

Nope, nope.  

Although.  It didn’t really hit me how much Maggie’s killing of Carver literally echoed Negan’s killings of Glenn and Abe until I saw the moments back to back so yeah.  Kinda cool but Maggie still has the moral high ground, IMHO. By a hair.  

I’d explain why but this is already a typo ridden thesis so.  

Until next time, lovelies.  

Same time next week.  

[libsterslobsters]

Whole Lotta Love

Synopsis: For some people, Valentine’s Day is another word for "stress", especially when you don't know what the other person is expecting. Several years into their relationship, Bucky’s pretty sure he has a good understanding of the Reader, until a word from Sam makes him question everything he thinks he knows. The race is on to make their first Valentine’s Day since saying their vows a special one, but as per usual, fate has it's own ideas about what will make the holiday truly memorable

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem! Enhanced! Super-soldier Reader

(Reader can see bits and pieces of the future in visions as well as speak every language)

Warnings: Smut, Fluff

Author's note: This fic contains references to earlier stories. For more information, click the series masterlist link. As always, the reader is unnamed so that this can be read as a self-insert, but at this point, I think of her as an OC.

The song referenced is Hearts Don't Break Around Here by Ed Sheeran

Series Masterlist

A The Song Remains The Same Fic

---------‐-----------------------------------

“So, Valentine’s Day.”

Bucky doesn’t look up from his laptop (or more specifically, the field report he’s typing) at Sam’s words. Despite his concentration, he can tell that his partner is staring at him, boring holes into his back with his gaze.

“Uh-huh.” He’s listening, but so far, he doesn’t care.

“What are you doing for it?” For Valentine’s day? Um…

“Not much.” It’s a Tuesday this year, right? Then probably working, like most other people, he’d imagine.

The room is silent as he types, so Bucky assumes that settles the matter. That is, until Sam mutters a quiet, “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“About what?” How many paragraphs does he have to type before he can pass this off as a full report? When he joined the Avengers, he thought the hardest part of his job would be the bad guy of the week, not doing paperwork!

“You’re really not doing anything for Valentine’s Day? Seriously?” He nods absentmindedly and clicks the save icon. He’ll finish this tomorrow. It’s five o’clock. Time to head home. Home to-

“What’s your wife gonna think about that?” He shrugs and cuts the power to the laptop.

“She thinks that the whole holiday is a rip-off. See you Monday?” He turns around for confirmation, only to catch Sam staring at him, mouth hanging wide open. “What?”

“A rip-off?” Is he just going to be stuck repeating himself?

“Yep.” Told him that the first February 14th they spent together.

“And you actually believed her?”

He nods. “She’s not one to lie.”

Sam nods incredulously. “Uh-huh. And are you planning to ever have sex again?”

He’s not going to dignify that with an answer (because really, isn’t it obvious?).

“Fine.” Sam shrugs. “You do you, man. All I’m saying is, if I had a wife who looked like that-” he indicates the lock screen of Bucky’s phone (a picture of her laughing, telling him to put away the damn camera after wrestling the dog for the tie to her favorite robe). “-I’d have my V-day plans set up a month in advance.”

Normally Bucky would take what Sam says with a grain of salt, but he is after all a man out of time, so maybe it’s worth considering that his partner may be right.

“What would you suggest I do?”

“Outside of the bedroom?” He narrows his eyes at the Falcon. “Okay, bad joke.” Sam scratches at the back of his head, thinking. “I don’t know, man. That’s your girl. You know her best, but flowers are always a good place to start.” Good to know that hasn’t changed since the 1940s. Although, last time he brought her flowers, she spent the afternoon sneezing until he eventually convinced her that it was okay, he wouldn’t be offended, she should throw the damn things out. Then again, that was before she was a super soldier.

“Flowers.” He repeats, earning a nod from Sam.

“You can get creative. Do a little research. But I’m just saying, when a woman waits five years for you to reappear, the least she deserves is a few flowers.” On that, they can agree.

He must bid Sam some sort of goodbye and make his way through the Avengers compound, but he’s unaware of anything until he’s in the parking lot, sitting behind the wheel of his car, googling “What to do for your wife on Valentine’s Day.” There’s a web page that boasts twenty different selections. Might as well give it a look.

___________________________________________________________________________________

She’s nearly home when her phone dings with a text from Barnes. “Just got in. Forgot to get milk. Can you swing by on your way, or should I go to the gas station and pick up a gallon?” A frown forms on her face. It’s pretty rare that Bucky forgets things. Must’ve been a hell of a day at work, then. Either that, or his brain has completely turned to mush thanks to typing out field reports. Either way-

“I got it. See you in twenty.” She thinks about tacking on a “love you”, but the light turns green before she can.

The grocery store is packed thanks to so many people getting off work. There’s only three carts left, all with bad wheels. She chooses the least squeaky option and, grabbing an add on her way, heads into the grocery store. Milk, and if she remembers right from this morning, they’re running dangerously low on coffee and tea. Despite caffeine having absolutely no effect on their enhanced bodies, both of them are nightmares to be around in the mornings without their beverages of choice. Force of habit and all.

She’s halfway to the checkout when she sees it. A sign, decorated in garish shades of red, pink, and purple. “All Valentine’s Day chocolates 10% off.” Shit. Yeah, that is coming up. To tell the truth, she’d completely forgot all about that day halfway through February. For most of her life, it only meant giving homemade cards at school when most kids had store-bought. Then, once she reached adulthood, it was a reminder that she was destined to be alone. Who would want someone who’s on the run, and what’s more, sees the future? Once she and Barnes got together, it didn’t change much. That first Valentine’s Day, he mentioned the holiday, and she shut it down immediately. They were both broke (or at least, he had no legitimate way of making money while she was broke), and celebrating a mostly commercial holiday seemed like a waste. Plus, she didn’t want to put a strain on a new relationship. Over the years, the subject never came up again, and she’s content for it to stay a non-starter, thank you very much. In her opinion, you should show your partner you love them every day of the year, not shoe-horn it into one twenty-four hour period. Call her unromantic if you must.

She’s completely immune to the various displays of cheap chocolate in heart-shaped boxes and overly sentimental cards as she approaches the register and starts to unload her items. Milk. Tea. That one specific brand of coffee that he likes because, “It tastes like what we drank in basic training. Terrible, but I kinda got used to it, so now everything else tastes like it’s trying too hard.” whatever that means. He’s right; she’s tasted it, and it’s fucking awful. Still, every morning, he drinks at least three cups while she drains her pot of tea.

“You got a hot date for Valentine’s Day, hun?” The cashier asks her, never breaking her rhythm as she rings up the items.

She chuckles. “As a matter of fact, yes.” The cashier’s eye go wide, and she holds up her left hand. “And every other day.”

“Ooh, nice. How long have you been together?”

“Nine years.” Wait… “Or four years, depending on which of us you ask. He blipped, I stayed.”

The cashier nods. “So are you older than him now?”

Physically? They’re not completely sure, but if you calculate the times he was off the ice with HYDRA and add that to the age he was before the serum, then they’re not far off. But chronologically- “No, he’s still older.” And yes, it will always be funny that Sam responds with “Okay, boomer” whenever Bucky makes an outdated reference (even if he’s off by a good twenty years).

With a little more light chatter, she pays for her items and leaves. Now, for home.

As soon as she opens the front door, she’s greeted by their dog, Sarge, barking excitedly and hopping around like he’s on a trampoline despite missing a leg. Bucky’s not far behind, placing a quick peck on her forehead before taking the bags from her and unloading them in the kitchen. Tonight’s his night to cook, but unless her nose has suddenly decided to give out, he hasn’t started dinner yet. She doesn’t mind taking over tonight, and when he sheepishly apologizes while she begins her preparations, she brushes it off. Although, for the second time in an hour, she’s seen proof of his unusual absentmindedness. Oh well. She’ll ask him about it later.

Despite being relieved from tonight’s chef duties, Bucky stays in the kitchen, sitting at the breakfast bar scrolling through his phone as she cooks. His expression is neutral, which can mean one of two things; a) he’s just killing time and there aren’t any interesting posts or articles vying for his attention, or at the opposite end of the spectrum, b) he’s deep in thought, possibly angry, sad, or even frightened, but he’s gone into Winter Soldier mode and shut down so that she won’t pick up on his mood. Damn the man and his poker face.

Eventually dinner is served and she sends him off toward the fridge in search of two beers while she serves their plates. Just as she’s spooning a generous helping of salad into her bowl, it happens. A vision, but a limited one. All she’s seeing is a phone. Well, that and the hand holding it. She’s not sure whether to be proud or embarrassed that she immediately recognizes the hand as Bucky’s, but that goes by the wayside as she takes in the article he’s reading. “Should you do something for Valentine’s Day even is she says no?” It’s a thread on some anonymous discussion board. The reply that has his attention is in reference to a now divorced individual who “was dumb enough to believe that, on our first V-Day as a married couple, she didn’t want anything.” Oh boy. Not good. This will be their first Valentine’s Day since exchanging vows, and if the fact that he’s read this reply (if not already read, will read soon) means that it’s at least crossed his radar that she might be feeding him bullshit. That’s not the case, but after his research, she knows from experience that no matter how much she tries to convince him otherwise, a small part of his mind will be stuck on, “But what if this is a big deal?” Which means-

“Doll, are you just gonna stand there with the salad tongs in your hand?” That snaps her out of it.

“No. Just a vision.” He frowns as she passes him his plate.

“Anything important happen?” Should she say?

“No.” She’s not sure if the smile or not, so she takes a bite from her roll to cover it. “Random sneak peek.” It’s not a lie. What she saw really isn’t important. Still, if he’s in that mindset, she should probably go on and do something for him just in case. After all, why should it only be the ladies who reap this holiday’s benefits?

___________________________________________________________________________________

Not flowers. That’s the one thing that, after copious amounts of research Bucky is one hundred percent certain about. They may still be a common romantic gift, but since they were also a go-to back when he was courting girls in the 1940s, it’s safe to say they’ve been overdone. Plus, he doesn’t really want to remind her of that time she had such a severe allergic reaction to the flowers he picked her on a walk through the park in Bucharest that her eyes nearly swelled shut and she sneezed herself sick. That doesn’t exactly seem like prime romance.

Chocolates or other candies have the same issues as flowers. Contrived and predictable. A bottle of wine is nice, but neither of them can so much as get mildly tipsy thanks to the super serum. The fourteenth is his day to cook, so he guesses he could do some reading and try to create something a little more special than spaghetti (he thought about going to a nice restaurant for dinner, but there’s a few issues with that, not the least of which is they’re likely to be recognized without their disguises, and he’d rather not look at his wife through sunglasses on Valentine’s day), but that seems a little underwhelming.

As he loads the dishwasher (she fell asleep half-way through the third episode of whichever nonsensical comedy they’re watching this week, so he sneaked back downstairs to clean up the dinner dishes), he thinks back to the dozen separate articles he read on the subject of Valentine’s Day gifts. Jewelry was a common theme, but that’s out. She’ll say thank you to his face, but worry about the cost behind his back. Plus, he has absolutely no idea what she’d like, and there’s no sense in purchasing something only for her to hate it.

Another common one was lingerie. Bucky almost choked on his tongue when he saw some of the examples given with that option. None of it looked comfortable (in fact, he’s still scratching his head about how you even put on one of the pieces that popped up on the web page) and he doesn’t want to give her the impression that she has to dress up for him. Even putting all that aside, he has no idea what size she’d even wear. He likes to think that he knows his wife pretty well, but somehow, in all their years together, it never occurred to him to ask her for her clothing sizes. That, and have you even seen the bra sizing system? Does it make sense to anyone, because to Bucky, it’s all gibberish. 32 B? 36 DD? What the hell? Somehow, when HYDRA was training him to extract information, they failed to go over the translation of a woman’s bra size. He supposes he could ask, but he’s not sure there’s a non-suspicious way to work, “Hey, sweetheart. What size are your breasts?” into casual conversation.

Sam said to get creative, so he tried to think outside the box. What��s something she really needs? A new vacuum cleaner is the first thing to come to mind, but he’s not stupid enough to think that would make a good gift. He knows she’s had her eye on a set of throwing stars, but that doesn’t seem to correlate well with what this holiday is all about. That’ll keep until her birthday.

He’s still wracking his brain for anything at all that might work when he feels a wet nose poking at his hand. Sarge. “Hey, boy. Has your mom gone to bed?” The response is a quiet “woof” and lick to his palm. He scratches the mutt behind the ears, smiling to himself as Sarge’s back leg thumps at the treatment.

“What do you think we should get our girl? Huh?” There’s no reply (of course not, he’s talking to a dog), but he nods, pretending all the same that Sarge has offered up a suggestion. “A bone. Yeah, somehow I don’t think that’s her thing. Try again.” The dog blinks at him lazily. “No, you’re the one who wants new tennis balls. Not Mom. Although you’re right about her liking peanut butter.” At this rate, he might as well get her a bone and some tennis balls, because he’s sure not coming up with any ideas.

She likes music. The thought pops into his head while he’s brushing his teeth. All sorts of music. Over the years, he’s tried to make sense of the songs he’s heard her listen to, but has yet to find a discernible pattern in her listening habits. She doesn’t seem to stick to just one genre or era. More like she picks songs by how they relate to what she’s feeling at the moment. Wait a second-

“A mixtape.” His reflection mouths the words back at him. Despite technology having moved on from the days of burning CDs, she still has a thick stack of the disks stored in a cabinet and plays them on the regular. He’s even seen a few that she made herself, pasting together the songs she likes to make a “Cleaning mix”, “Workout Mix” and “Pissed off Mix”. Bucky’s sure he could figure out how to burn a CD, but it’s not like she’d be able to listen to that everywhere she went. That leaves a playlist. She uses one of those apps to listen to music on her phone, right? Surely he can put something together for her using that.

Quietly, he climbs into bed next to his sleeping wife and pulls her back against his chest, slinging one arm over her waist as usual. He closes his eyes, but his mind is alight with activity. A playlist. Of course. He’ll put some extra effort into whatever he cooks that night, stop by a bakery and pick up some sweet treats for dessert. Hell, maybe they’ll both dress up and act like they’re on a date. Then, once they’re sitting down to their meal, he’ll pull out his phone and hit play. It’s perfect. At least, he hopes it is.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Putting on a lacy bra and panties set underneath her regular work attire seemed like a brilliant idea this morning. Today’s a short day; she’s only got three classes to teach, and Rhodey called last night to tell Bucky that he’s suspending work hours at three pm “Since most people have holiday preparations to make.” Her plan was to be waiting on the sofa in the living room when he arrives home, professional button-down blouse open just enough for him to get a good look at what’s underneath, pencil skirt pushed up enough to reveal the stockings and garters she’s donned for the occasion. It’s fun, with just enough cheesiness to match this whole holiday. And, well, it’s a guarantee that by the end of the night they’ll be in bed together, both rumpled, sweaty, and satisfied. Perfect, right?

Wrong. On her drive to work, her skimpy underwear began to ride up, giving her a wedgie, and there was no way to adjust without running the risk of wrecking. She was so distracted by her discomfort that she missed her exit, and by the time she arrived at the college, she was running so behind that she didn’t get the chance to run to the bathroom and readjust. Her lecture on sentence diagrams was pure torture before the underwire from her bra decided to join in the fun and poke her directly in the ribs, but with that addition, she was especially impatient with her students’ tendency to joke around a little too much in class.

Luckily, she had just enough time to wrap the exposed metal bit in tissues before her next class, which eliminated the pain in her chest, but did nothing to alleviate the discomfort once her stockings began to slide down, having at some point disconnected themselves from the garters. She taught like that for the next two classes, but as soon as they were over, she pealed the whole ensemble off in the teacher’s restroom and changed into her gym clothes. Alright, screw the whole seduction routine. She needs to blow off some steam and fast, or else she’ll be in a bad mood all night.

That’s why, thirty minutes later, she finds herself in the training room of the Avengers compound, working over a punching bag. “Fuck-” Her fist connects, making the bag swing crazily from it’s hook. “-this- whole- day!” It goes sailing, and she feels a little better.

“Ouch!” The voice comes from behind her and she whirls around, gaze resting on-

“Sam.” The man in question holds up his hands in an “I surrender” gesture.

“Don’t shoot! I come in peace.” Rolling her eyes, she holds up her middle finger, receiving a snicker in acknowledgment.

“Just working off a little frustration before I head home.”

“Good.” Sam chuckles. “’cause otherwise, I’d be worried that when Barnes pulls out his dick tonight, you’ll bite it off.” She thinks about telling him that there’s no chance of that, but she might just cut off his if he crosses her. However, that jogs her memory.

“Has he left yet?” Sam nods.

“About an hour ago. Said he had to pick up groceries.” Shit. There goes her plan to shower, throw the damn lingerie back on and proceed as planned.

Bidding Sam a hasty reply, she makes tracks towards her car and, once inside, heads for home. Fine. New plan. She’ll shower once she arrives and then when the evening is drawing to a close, wait for him in bed. Nodding to herself, she puts the car in park and climbs out. Now, to psych herself up enough in the next few hours to put the damn lingerie back on.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Where did he go wrong? It takes all of Bucky’s self control not to spit out the spoonful of sauce he just tasted. This was supposed to be an easy recipe for Chicken Alfredo (or at least, that’s what the website boasted; he should’ve known better than to get his information from the internet and stuck to a good old-fashioned cookbook from the library). Not… whatever the hell this is. Maybe even if the sauce is nauseating, the chicken is okay?

He pulls open the oven door, and immediately smoke billows out, making his eyes water. Okay, chicken’s a little well-done. Who is he kidding? Black. The chicken is burned black. And the pasta… he lifts the pot lid and stirs, only to come to the realization that the pasta is completely stuck to the bottom of the pot. Wonderful.

It’s inevitable; over the years, he’s had his fair share of cooking disasters, but usually he does okay. Tonight though… who the hell up there did he piss off, because the only explanation for how badly this is going is his karma coming due.

Still holding the offending spoon, he looks over at Sarge, who’s staring at him, long pink tongue sticking out as he pants. “Trust me, boy. You don’t want any of this.” There has to be something else he can pull together on short notice. Normally he’d be worried that she’s running late without so much as a text, but today he’s relieved. At least if she’s running behind he’ll have time to… what? Maybe order takeout? Before she gets-

“I’m home.” Shit.

Sarge yips, shaking with excitement, and starts towards the kitchen door, then turns back, uncertain. “Go on. I know you’re dying to jump on her and lick her face.” Something they really should be training out of him because he’s getting too big for that sort of behaviour but, well… there’s a reason they call them “puppy dog eyes.”

Not needing to be coaxed, the dog takes off, tripping a little in the momentary lapse in his memory that he’s a tripod, but easily catches himself and goes on his merry way, leaving Bucky to clean up his mess. From the sound of things, a game of fetch is going on in the living room, so she should be distracted for a while.

He manages to pour the sauce down the drain and scrape most of the pasta into the trash while Sarge is acting as a decoy, but there’s absolutely no way he can dispose of the chicken without tipping her off (damn enhanced senses, it’s a wonder she hasn’t already smelled it). Finally, he decides to just go for it. She’s going to notice whether he throws it out now or two hours from now. Might as well get a head start on cleaning.

Sure enough, not ten seconds after he empties out the oven, he catches a movement in his peripheral vision, and the familiar sound of her breathing tips him off that he’s no longer alone.

“Hey, Doll.”

“Hey, Bucky. Did something burn in here, or-” He holds up the pan for her inspection before continuing his scraping.

“That’s one way to put it, yeah.” He slams the lid back on the trashcan and turns on the tap, intent on rinsing out the pan. “Another is whoever the god of culinary arts is has it in for me today.”

She chuckles. “You know, that would be funnier if we didn’t actually know a god.”

“Yeah, but he’s in control of thunder.” He meets her eyes, smirking slightly. “Although it did look like I electrocuted the bird.” Her lips quirk up into a smile, and he takes the opportunity to kiss her, cupping the back of her head gently to hold her in place when she tries to move away, muttering something about being sweaty.

He’s not entirely sure how it happened, but by the time they come up for air, her back his pressed against the wall and he’s got her pinned in place. Not that he’s complaining.

“Anyone ever tell you that the tip of your nose turns pink after you’ve been kissed?’ Her cheeks go rosey in response.

“I think so. One guy did. I told him it’s only when I’m kissed properly.”

He really would like to continue the playful banter, but there’s still the small matter of whatever it is they’re going to eat.

“What do you feel like for dinner tonight?”

“Apart from electrocuted chicken?” He responds with a swat to her ass, which earns him a snicker. “Let’s keep it simple. Pizza. Your choice of toppings.” Right, that’s easy enough. Plus, if they have to wait longer than thirty minutes, it’s free.

“Okay. I’ll order while you shower?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

He’s just pulled up the menu on his phone when the sound of her clearing her throat attracts his attention. She’s standing in the doorway, combing through her freshly let down hair with her fingers, a playful look in her eyes.

“Or you could join me. Just a mild suggestion.”

Dinner can wait for a while.

___________________________________________________________________________________

The Brooklyn townhouse they live in has many nice features. There’s a functional if small screened in back porch, big enough to hold a table for two and a grill. Two bedrooms, on the off chance someone from work needs to crash for a night or two. A kitchen with a dishwasher. A working fireplace. Good closet space. And an en suite bathroom.

Maybe it’s a little ridiculous to call a bathroom luxurious, especially when, in comparison to what’s featured in many brownstones, it’s more than modest, but she can’t help but think of it as such. There’s a double sink so that in the morning rush to get ready, Bucky’s able to shave and brush his teeth without having to wait for her to finish applying her makeup. Shelving above the toilet makes certain that even if the last person to shower took the towel with them, another one is on hand. Speaking of the shower, it’s not the largest one in the world, but both of them can fit in comfortably at the same time, which is what’s lead to their current situation.

She’s just finished allowing the water to course over her body, easing the sweat from her skin, and is about to begin the process of washing her hair, scrubbing her body, but she hesitates. She might as well ask. It’s only practical after all.

“Do you want to start now or get cleaned up and have dinner beforehand?” It’s obvious what she’s referring to, so she doesn’t bother to spell it out.

His brown knits, and if she didn’t know him as… intimately… as she does, she’d actually believe he’s confused.

“Oh, so you’re just assuming there’s gonna be sex involved at some point tonight?”

She shrugs, wringing out her hair.

“Seemed like a safe enough bet.” She glances pointedly between the two of them. “After all, we’re already undressed. “

His laugh is a quiet huff, barely discernible over the sound of the water. “Then I’d say start now, have dinner, then go for round two. Sound about right to you?”

She nods. “Solid plan.”

“Then get over here.”

Unlike the welcome home kiss they shared not half an hour ago, this one is less tender, more electric. Hands twist in hair, bodies press together. Tongues begging for entrance quickly give way to teeth nipping at bottom lips, an unspoken sparring match for who’ll be in control this time around. Ultimately he wins, grasping her hips and lifting as she wraps her legs securely around his back.

There’s no need for prep; the teasing of their earlier words is foreplay enough. Back pressed against the wall, her body easily welcomes him in as she braces one arm against the glass shower doors for balance. Any concerns about slipping and falling wash away as they move together like so many times before. She’s sure her nails will leave marks on his back, fingertips digging in for purchase and it’s a guarantee her hips will be littered with fingerprints from his grip, but she can’t find it in her to care, and if the desperate, bruising kiss assaulting her lips is anything to judge from, neither can he.

“So damn good, Doll.” It’s panted against her neck. “Always. So damn perfect for me.” All she can manage is a moan in response.

She feels him twitch inside of her and knows he’s close. So is she, but she can’t quite get there without-

As if he’s read her mind, he reaches between them to touch her where she needs it most, and on instinct, she readjusts, locking her arm around his neck to stay in place. “Let go, sweetheart. Can you do that for me?” She couldn’t disobey if she wanted to.

“Fuck.” As her walls contract around him, he pulls out just in time to paint her middle with his release.

“That’s one word for it.” She’s still fighting to catch her breath, but she shoots him a shaky smirk, which he returns.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Mrs. Barnes.” Snickering, she releases him to stand on unsteady legs and pecks his legs.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Mr. Barnes.” Maybe there’s something to this holiday after all.

___________________________________________________________________________________

“You want the last slice?” Bucky considers it for a moment before deciding-

“Nah. You can have it.” It may not be exactly what he planned, but it’s been a good night. Between the two of them, they’ve gone through two large pizzas while watching the new version of Beauty and the Beast (she rolled her eyes when he asked if this was her way of saying he reminds her of a certain hairy, horned character) in their pajamas.

“No, really. You take it. I don’t want it.” She nudges the mostly-empty pizza box towards him. The noise makes Sarge lift his head from where he was snoozing beside her on the sofa. That gives him an idea.

“I don’t want it either, but I can think of someone who does.” He cocks his head towards the now-drooling dog. “How ‘bout it, boy? Wanna help us out?”

Snickering, she picks the pepperonis and pieces of sausage and ham from the pizza, forming a pile. “Here, Sarge. Catch.” She tosses a coveted treat in the air, and Sarge’s jaw snaps, swallowing it whole. “Good boy.”

They sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes before she speaks again.

“You know, I actually did have something planned for you.”

“Oh, yeah?” She nods.

“Absolutely. Had a whole seduction plan laid out. Tiny underwear, lacy bra, and stockings with garters included.” Huh. Guess she wouldn’t have taken the “lingerie” option the wrong way. He’ll file that away for future use… along with a mental note to ask her bra size. “That is, until I tried wearing the damn things for longer than an hour. Turns out, hiding a dirty secret under your clothes is more itchy than sexy.”

He can’t help it. He laughs, producing a pout from her which quickly turns into her own quiet laughter.

“Well, that fits in perfectly with my fancy dinner going up in smoke.”

“We really do have shitty luck with the whole “romance” thing.” She’s joking, but he decides to respond anyway.

“I don’t know about that.” Entwining his fingers with hers, he lifts their hands, twin wedding bands catching the light. “You waited five years for me to reappear after the blip, and I convinced you to elope with me. Seems pretty romantic.” Although, that reminds him…

“Don’t move.” Releasing her hand, he stands and goes in search of his phone.

“Bucky, what-”

“Don’t move, Doll. Stay right where you are.” Ah. On the kitchen counter, just where he left it. Jogging back into the room, he resumes his place on the couch next to her. Ignoring her questioning gaze, he pulls up the app and, selecting the correct playlist, hits play.

Immediate recognition blooms on her face at the opening lyrics. “She is the sweetest thing that I know. Should see the way she holds me when the lights go low.” He’s not one for modern music, but when he was googling “songs for Valentine’s Day” and this one popped up, he couldn’t help but think that the lyrics were fitting.

“I didn’t know you’d heard this one.”

He chuckles. “Even old men have a few tricks up their sleeves. That, and a wifi connection.” She rolls her eyes but leans closer, which he takes advantage of to show her the playlist.

“This is the app you use, right?” Receiving a nod, he continues. “Feel free to scroll through and add whatever you want. I haven’t listened to all of them the whole way through, but they seemed to fit the mood.”

Her hand closes over his, covering the phone. “Thank you, Bucky. It’s perfect.”

As the singer goes on about how hearts don’t break around here, he presses his lips against hers.

“I love you, Doll.”

“Love you.”

Not bad for a disastrous Valentine’s Day. Not bad at all.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

One Night🌙3

Warnings: noncon sexual acts (to be warned later in series)

This is dark!Andy Barber and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: One night changes your entire life.

for @kittykatlow​‘s 200 Follower Celebration

Note: Chapter 3 as I fight with every other fic to co-operate with me but here it is.

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

The next day, you went through your shift like a zombie. Despite the deepening pit of hunger in your stomach, you ate your meals without tasting them' without enjoying a bite. You were so distracted by this man’s sudden unshakeable presence in your life that you couldn’t think of what you were doing at any given moment. You just did it.

Your phone rang as you swayed with the puttering of the city bus. You frowned at the number you didn’t recognize and answered with a yawn. No closing shift that night. You ignored the call but your phone lit up again before you could drop it back into your bag. You hit the button on the wire of your earbuds and answered.

“Hello?” You said.

“You working?” Andy asked. You knew his voice, it haunted you as it continued to echo in your mind; ‘The hard way or the easy way’.

“On my way home,” You answered hesitantly. “Can’t I have one night to--”

“You’ve had the day to think. You don’t have that much time,” He interrupted. “How far along are you? Three months?”

“Please…”

“Just give me an answer.” He said.

You paused and read the stop across the banner as it flashed and the rope was pulled with a ding. You glanced out the window. Your stop was still another fifteen minutes away. You sighed and shifted in your seat.

“I don’t have one,” You said quietly. “I barely slept and I worked--”

“I’ve been working all day too,” He insisted. “You’ll see I work hard. For myself, for my family.”

“Look, I don’t need the lecture, alright? Maybe you think what I do is easy but--”

“Easy? You shouldn’t be on your feet so much, not in your condition. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.” He sniffed.

“Alright, well, you’re going to have to wait for your answer,” You said tersely. “I’m tired, I’m going home to take a nap, then I’ll make up my mind.”

You hung up and dropped your phone into the gaping mouth of your purse. Your music began again, the vibrant tunes of 80s pop contrasted the grey Massachusetts sky. The lyrics were a buzz in your ear as you rocked and waited for your stop. You grew more and more anxious as you neared it.

You got off at the corner of your street and the bus chugged on. You dragged your feet along and stopped at the familiar car parked by the curb of your parents’ house. Shit. You sped up and peeked through the tinted windows; empty. You stormed down the driveway and through the door.

You stopped just inside the entryway as you turned to peer into the living room. Andy sat on the sofa, one leg bent over the other as he leaned back casually. He slowly looked at you and smiled. He wore an expensive suit and polished leather shoes. He must have come straight from the courthouse.

“What--” You began.

“Did you want anything in your coffee?” Your mother appeared from the dining room. 

“Just cream,” Andy replied. “Thank you.”

“Not at all. Oh, there she is,” Your mom tweaked a brow as she looked to you. “Coffee?”

“No, thank you,” You stepped through the archway and crossed your arms.

You glared at Andy and your mother disappeared back through the dining room and the fridge gave a loud suck as it opened.

“Good. Caffeine isn’t healthy for the baby.” He stretched his arm over the back of the couch.

“Shut up.” You hovered in the doorway. “What are you even doing here?”

“I came for my answer.” He sat up and you gulped as your mom entered again. 

“Here you are,” She handed him the mug and he took it with another thank you.

“You mind if I have a few minutes to talk to your daughter?” He set down the coffee on the low table. 

“Of course, Mr. Barber,” She preened.

“Andy, I told you,” He waved away her formality.

“Well, you know, I am so very sorry about what happened to your family… Andy,” She folded her hands together. 

“Thanks,” He looked down dramatically.

“Anyhoo,” Your mother broke the lull, “I will leave you to it.”

She shot you a look as if to say that she wanted no part of whatever trouble this was. She left and you set your bag down as you sat in the armchair. You picked at your nail and grimaced.

“You really couldn’t wait?” You huffed.

“Well, it’s like you said, we don’t really know each other. I can’t trust you. Yet.” He paused and sipped from the coffee. “I hope you make better coffee than your mother.”

“Hmmph,” You grumbled. 

“If I let you have your couple hours, you could just as soon be on your way out of town. Not that you’d get far.” He grinned. “You know, the uniforms always keep a patrol by the bus station? Lotta people think they can make a quick run on a greyhound.”

“I don’t care about the goddamn police.” You sneered.

“You seem pretty indifferent to most things. Not a very admirable trait so far. Especially with a baby on board. How long do you think you can afford to be so oblivious?” He rolled his shoulder and scratched his beard. “I’m not trying to ruin your life, I’m trying to help you fix it.”

“Well, Christ, Andy, you think maybe I need a little more time to think things through? To actually process what the fuck is going on here? You’ve done this before, I haven’t.” You were seething as you gripped the arm of the chair. “I don’t know what to do, okay?”

“It’s not that hard. I’ve--”

“You’re pregnant?” Your mother interjected as she appeared from around the corner, the shadows of the unlit dining room hanging over her shoulders like a cape.

“What the hell? Have you been listening?” You stood.

“Not intentionally but it’s hard not to hear.” She hissed. “What, were you going to wait until you popped it out and I had no choice but to pick up after your kid like I have for you for the last three decades?”

“No, I--”

“With all due respect, we were talking about the very opposite of that,” Andy rose calmly. 

“You fucked a married man?! His wife is on fucking life support!” Your mother shouted. “Fuck’s sake, and you!” She turned on Andy. “You’re both disgusting.”

“Mom,” You warned.

“This isn’t happening in my house.” She scoffed. “None of it. You take your things and go with this… this man.” She raged as she marched towards you. “Get out. You’re done leeching off of us.”

“Leeching? Well, mom, you can see if you can scrape together my half of the rent yourself as you sitting around here watching your goddamn soaps.” You snapped.

“Get the fuck out of my house, you ungrateful bitch!” She shoved you and you barely caught the chair to keep from falling.

She stumbled back herself as Andy grabbed her arm and spun her around. His eyes were lit with fury as he squeezed her shoulders.

“You don’t touch her. She’s carrying your grandchild. My child. You will not touch her, ever again.” He growled.

“You--you--” Your mother wriggled against him and brought her index up to jab in his face. “I bet your son fucking did it.”

“You shut your mouth,” He said slowly, quietly.

“Andy,” You rushed over and clung to his wrist. “Don’t hurt her.”

“I don’t need your help,” Your mother tried to elbow you away.

Andy flung her aside and she caught herself on the ottoman. He turned to block you from her.

“I’ll call the cops,” She threatened as she righted herself.

“Go ahead. They should be here to supervise your forced eviction.” He crossed his arms. “Your daughter pays her portion of the rent, that means she has the right to take her belongings with her and the time it takes to do so. For your own safety as much as hers, I think maybe the police are a good idea.”

Your mother’s face wrinkled, first with anger, then a slight trickle of fear. She stared up at Andy then glanced around him at you. She shook her head and smiled darkly.

“Fine, get your things,” She backed away. “I’ll tell your father you said goodbye.”

She rolled her eyes and shooed you with her hand as she stomped back through to the dining room. You heard her footsteps on the kitchen tile and the groan of the screen door before it clattered. She would hide with your father in the garage until you were gone. You didn’t expect a proper farewell.

You covered your face with your hands and held in the scream that bubbled in your chest.

“What the fuck have you done?” You asked as you dropped your hands.

“It’s fine. I told you, I’ll take care of you.” He turned slowly to face you.

“No, you won’t.” You spat. “There’s my choice.”

You spun as you grabbed your bag and blustered away from him up the stairs. He followed you to your room and you ignored him as you dialed your phone and pulled open the drawers of your dresser. You held the phone to your ear with one hand as you bent to pull out your suitcase from under your bed.

“Felicia? Hey, how are you?” You asked as you started to dump your clothes by the armful into the bag.

“Good,” She sang. “What’s up? Looking for another girls’ night?”

“Not exactly,” You muttered. “Look, I really don’t wanna do this to you but it’ll only be a couple nights. Um…” You stopped and rubbed your forehead as you turned to watch Andy staring at your bookcase. “I got in another fight with my mom and she’s… kicked me out. I need--”

“Ohhh,” She uttered. 

“Ohhh, what?” You stopped as Andy took a book out and opened it.

“Well, you remember Benny? He’s kinda… here for a while.” She said.

“Oh,” You nodded and your heart sank.”

“I’m sorry, if I--”

“No, no, I shouldn’t have sprung this on you. I’ll find something. It’s fine.” 

“I really am--”

“Please, don’t be sorry,” You cursed in your head. “Look, go have fun with Benny. I’ll figure it out.”

“Well don’t… Well, just let me know, okay?”

“Right, bye.” You hung up.

You scrolled through your contacts; Shaileen had moved away last month, Deena had roommates, Marcy had kids and a husband, and the rest were just… strangers by now.

“So…” Andy closed the book.

“Don’t, okay?” You opened the second drawer and emptied it. “Just for a little bit.”

As you opened the third drawer he came to help you. You shoved your heavy old laptop into the mesh pocket and as you closed the suitcase he stopped you.

“One condition,” He said.

“One?” You shook your head.

“Call the doctor. Make an appointment.” He stated. “I’ll be going with you.”

“Fine, but I have my own conditions.” You countered.

“I’d love to hear them,” He chuckled.

“I want my space. That means no touching,” You backed away from him, “That means you leave me be. I go to work, I come home, I sleep, I go to your dumb appointments, and you leave me alone.”

“It’s my house, not a motel,” He said.

“Motel? That’s a good idea.” You shrugged.

“Which you could afford for maybe a week, I’m sure.” He pushed back his jacket as he gripped his hips. “I’m offering you a place to live. We’ll get used to each other. We have a whole six months left to do that.”

“Six months?” You rubbed your cheek. “Andy…”

As far as I’ve seen it, you’ve lost all your leverage in this,” He said. “I’m doing you a favour because as it stands, I’m your only option.”

You chewed your lip and narrowed your eyes. You swallowed and nodded.

“I gotta get the rest of my stuff,” You said softly. “That okay with you?”

“Sure,” He finished zipping up your suitcase. “This one ready to go?”

“Yeah,” You threw up your hands. “Sure.”

He walked out with your bag and you grabbed a tote and crossed the hall to the bathroom. You filled it with your shampoo, body wash, lotions, toothbrush, and other toiletries. As you went back into the hallway, he was there, by your bedroom door, waiting. 

You slipped past him into your room to grab your purse and shoved it into the top of the bigger bag. You came back out as you slung the straps over your shoulder.

“I don’t care about the rest,” You said. “She can keep the books.”

He followed you outside and as you approached the driveway, the garage door slid open. You stopped as your father appeared on the other side and Andy caught your shoulders to keep from colliding with you. Your mother scowled from behind your father.

“You goin’?” He asked.

“She wants me out.” You shrugged.

“My house too,” He said. Always a man of few words.

“So… you gonna make her keep me?” You challenged.

“You keepin’ the kid?”

You looked over your shoulder at Andy and sighed. You turned back and nodded.

“Sorry,” He shook his head. 

“Yeah, me too,” You swallowed the bitterness on your tongue. “I figured as much.”

You spun away and continued down the driveway.

“You touch my wife?” You heard your dad ask Andy. You stopped and glanced back.

“I restrained her from harming your daughter.” Andy said evenly. 

Your dad frowned and looked at your mother as she avoided his gaze.

“I can’t abide it in my household, you understand?” Your father said.

“Not my house,” Andy said. “But you’re welcome to see your grandchild when it’s born. Welcome to check in on your daughter.” He started to step away and paused. “This wasn’t my call.”

He nodded towards your mother then made his way to you. He touched your arm gently and turned you away from the garage.

“Let’s go.” He muttered as he ushered you down to the curb.

He took your bag and dropped it in the backseat. You got in as he did, quiet. You buckled in as he started the car and you bent forward to grip your head. You sat back heavily as he began to drive.

“It was your call. I’m not stupid.” You glared at the dashboard. “This is exactly what you wanted.”

He didn’t answer as he turned the corner. He hit a button on the wheel and began to flip through the radio stations. He settled on a classic rock station and hummed along.

‘It’s down to me, yes it is.The way she does just what she’s told, down to me. The change has come. She’s under my thumb. Ah, ah, say it’s alright…’

[shurelyasreverie]

Twisted Fate x Reader: Wanna Bet?

After a successful heist, you and Twisted Fate play cards to pass away the time, but it seems that money isn't the prize Tobias has on his mind...

Word Count: 1654

The life of a thief and mercenary was not an easy one, but it had its perks. The thrill of living on the edge, fighting nail and tooth for precious gold and jewels made this life addictive, especially with two reliable comrades that stood by your side through thick and thin. Tobias Felix had the charm, Malcolm Graves had the brawn, and most importantly, you had the common sense to not get yourself killed. Combined, you were an unstoppable force, shown again today through another successful heist that got you plenty of gold for you to throw away at the local pub.

Taking a table at the corner, you and Tobias had barely gone through a glass as Graves already finished a bottle of the heavy duty stuff, sending him slumped on a chair, dead to the world.

“It's been less than ten minutes and Grave's already a goner,” you groaned as you finished a shot glass.

“Well he don't look like he'll be causing any trouble tonight,” Tobias mused, sliding an already prepared shot to you.

“Cheers,” you mumbled in thanks as you took the new glass, about to down it until you hesitated. You looked at Tobias sceptically, the entire time his enigmatic smile was plastered on his face. You slammed the glass down. “Oh no, no, no. I'm not falling for that old trick again.”

“Whatever do you mean?” His voice had a light lilt, feigning ignorance.

“You get me drunk just so I'll agree to play cards with you, then I end up losing half my gold because of you,” you groaned as many regretful memories plagued your mind. You rubbed your temples, both the alcohol and memories causing a headache.

“Today might be your lucky day, you could end up winning against me.”

“Are you kidding me? Your skill and magic with cards is literally your selling point. It's your only selling point.”

“You wound me,” he frowned teasingly. You cursed yourself for feeling weak to his deep, reverberating voice as he chuckled. It was the alcohol's fault, right? Right.

“Anyway, why do you keep bothering me about cards? What's the point if you know you're going to win?”

“Just because I win doesn't mean it ain't a challenge,” Tobias corrected. “You're good with whatever hand you're given.”

“Play with Graves then.”

“He's too dumb,” he responded plainly. “Anyway, does he look like he's in a state to play?”

He pointed to the passed out form next to you.

“Point taken but I'm still not playing,” you grumbled, leaning back and crossing your arms. “Our heist went well and we got good money from it. I refuse to lose it all in the first night.”

“Fine...” Tobias huffed but after a brief moment he leaned back with a signature smirk on his face, already shuffling a deck of cards. “But how about this? We play but we don't bet money. I promise.”

“You don't keep your promises.”

“I've kept the ones I've made with you,” he pointed out. You had to give him that, you don't remember him ever breaking a promise but you barely remember him making any promises in the first place.

“Fine. What're we dealing with, then?”

His smile widened as he started to deal the cards. “I don't normally bet on this 'cause it requires trust. But I trust you.”

“A dangerous choice but I'm honoured.”

“I want your honesty,” Tobias announced and you raised your eyebrows. “I ask you a question and you answer wholeheartedly and entirely truthfully. Can you promise me that?”

You downed another shot as you contemplated.

“Sure.”

“That's what I like to hear,” he smirked.

Unsurprisingly, you lost, and quickly too.

“And here I was thinkin' you'd put up more of a fight,” he mused as he collected the cards and shuffled.

“I figured we'd be playing multiple games so I'm conserving energy,” you retorted and Tobias nodded in amusement.

“Fair.”

“So... your prize?”

“Ah, of course. I'll make this easy for you first. Ease you into it,” Tobias stopped shuffling to watch you. “Answer me honestly: what do you think of the pants Graves bought today?”

You pulled a face before instantly covering it up. “Well, I mean- he's wanted those things for ages... he was very happy with them.”

“Honesty, sweetheart,” Tobias reminded and your heart raced at the name as you cleared your throat. You sent a cautious glance over to a passed out Graves. You snapped your fingers by each of his ears, clapped your hands in front of his face and then lightly slapped him.

Not a peep.

Knowing now he'll never hear your answer, you leaned into Tobias. “I hate the ghastly things. They're a crime to all things good on this earth, I haven't seen anything uglier and at that price? You've got to be kidding me.”

By the time you were done with your rant, Tobias had a fist to his mouth, suppressing his laughter.

“I ain't ever seen you so passionate about anything before,” he mustered as he picked up his new hand of cards. You did the same.

“He was just so happy when he got them, I couldn't tell him what I truly thought,” you sighed as you put down a card.

“And what do you think of my looks?”

As he placed a card for his turn your eyes scanned Tobias up and down. Purely for noting his attire, and definitely not to admire his figure and features.

“You dress fine. It seems to work well for you, anyway,” you replied.

“Meaning?”

“If your clothes were ugly, your charm wouldn't work,” you explained. “But it seems no one has complaints about what you wear. Hell, a lot of people probably like it.”

Tobias hummed thoughtfully. “That so? Lady Luck's blessed me with a lotta things but she didn't give me no luck on the dating scene.”

“I think that's less Lady Luck and more just you being unfaithful.”

“Aw, come now. I ain't that bad.”

“Prove it.”

“You free tomorrow night?”

“Not like that,” you groaned as Tobias laughed.

“Ah... and would you look at that, I've won again.”

“I really shouldn't have agreed to this,” you grumbled as you chucked the rest of your hand onto the pile of cards.

“Now, tell me,” he leaned forward. “Who do you prefer? Me or Graves?”

“What?” You frowned. “Listen, you're both my partners in crime. We're a trio. I rely on both of you equally. Malcolm might be an idiot sometimes but he's a good, trustworthy bloke. Honestly, I admire him. Sometimes.”

“... I see,” Tobias nodded and he leaned back. He didn't inquire any further and you raised your eyebrows at his sudden solemnness. He idly rearranged and shuffled the cards as he seemed lost in thought. You sighed, figuring to give him the honesty you promised to give him.

“That being said, I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel closer to you.”

“Oh?”

You nodded, saying no more. The three of you had each other's backs but it always felt a little more meaningful knowing Tobias was by your side. How he seemed to always know the right things to say to keep you motivated, encouraging you forward with a firm hand on the small of your back. You bit your lip, making sure you didn't voice your thoughts to him. Your words already seemed to have impacted him regardless, cards already dealt for a new game with his smirk back on his face.

“You're playin' better than before,” Tobias observed.

“I feel the next question is going to be a big one,” you replied, sending a wink. Tobias cleared his throat in response, hurriedly putting down a card.

After a few minutes of silence, another card was placed down and Tobias leaned back in his chair with a smug look on his face. You frowned at his empty hand before sighing in resignation.

“Right, what do you want to know?” You took a pint of ale, bringing it to your lips.

“Would you date me?”

You almost spat out your drink. Eyes wide, you searched Tobias' face, wondering if he was lying. But there was no teasing smile, instead he was dead serious, his dark eyes burning into yours.

“I- what sort of question is that?”

“I want to know what you think of me,” he replied frankly.

“You're great,” you answered quickly.

“But would you date me? Remember your promise.”

“Why do you want to know?” You pouted.

“I think you can figure it out,” he cooed, bringing his face closer to yours. Frozen in place, you couldn't lean away. His nimble fingers took your chin, making you look at him. “Work partners ain't enough for me. I'm hopin' Lady Luck might help me out with you. So... what do you say?”

“I say...” you leaned forward, pressing your lips against his. Although when you tried to pull away, the grip on your chin tightened as Tobias kissed you back. Whenever you tried to part for air, his lips chased yours, only relenting as you placed a hand to his chest with a giggle.

“I love you,” you admitted.

“Dangerous words, sweetheart,” he chuckled. “Soon enough you'll be beatin' me in the charm department.”

The moment was interrupted by the slow clapping of Graves, making you practically shove Tobias away as heat rushed to your face. Since when was he awake?

“About goddamn time,” Graves grumbled as he stood up. “I'll get some new drinks, it's on me to celebrate the new happy couple.”

[cherryobx]

Turn Around//Rafe Cameron x reader

requested?: yes bby “could you do a nearly-finished-college!rafe x reader where it's their anniversary but they can't see each other cuz he's in obx and she's home with her parent wherever and he makes a really cute scrapbook with like photos and writing pieces of each date/event with like the Spotify scanners for a song representing each one and sends it to her and they are on call going through it (maybe he even adds a blank page with the song turn around so she does and he suprise visits her and proposes 🥺?) xx”

summary: Rafe comes up with the perfect way to propose to you

warnings: a whole lotta fluff, mentions of drugs, a few curse words i think

WC: 1274

You weren’t really sure when was the moment you really fell in love with the cocky boy from the Outer Banks.

You remember when you met him a few years ago at a party. He was acting like a jerk with everybody and he made a pretty inappropriate comment about your dress, so you threw your drink all over him. 

The word “mad” wasn’t even enough to describe how furious he was after that. He called you a bitch and stormed off to find a new shirt.

Rafe wasn’t the type to ever hit a woman, but that night you were a bit scared of what he would do to you when he came back. 

What you didn’t know was that no one had ever done something like this to Rafe. They were all too scared of him. Well, I mean, who wouldn’t. Have you seen the man? He was 6’2 and pretty muscular. He was a giant compared to you.

So over the course of 2 months, you kept bumping into each other literally everywhere. In the grocery store, at a golfing course, at the beach, etc.

So when he finally asked you out, you rejected him. And that happened a few more times. You weren’t giving in so easily.

But when he apologized, you gave him a positive answer he was so desperately wanting to hear.

He took you on many dates and you fell for him pretty hard. Being a jerk was just an act. He was so much nicer when his friends weren’t around. He was the most cuddly person ever. Every day after a long day, he’d come over to your place and basically lay on you. You’d play with his hair and place small kisses everywhere on him.

And now you had been dating him for almost 4 years. Of course, your relationship wasn’t perfect. Nobodys is. But had never loved anyone like this before. The fact that you were ready to sacrifice your life for this man was a bit scary sometimes.

You were currently sitting in the backyard on the grass. Your computer was in front of you and you were talking on facetime with Rafe.

It was your anniversary today but you were stuck on the mainland for a few days because you were visiting your parents. Plus, Rafe still had a few days of college left so there was no way you two could’ve met up that day.

But that was all you wanted. Oh, what you’d do to be in his arms at the moment.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come back today.”

“It’s okay, baby. We’ll just celebrate a little bit later,” he was smiling but you knew he wanted to be with you as much as you did with him.

“Y/N!” your mom called. You turned your body a bit to see her standing on the patio.

“What?”

“There’s a package for you,” she said, waving it at you.

“Hold on for a second,” you said to Rafe and stood up to get the package from your mom. 

Then you walked back and sat down again in front of the computer. “I don’t remember ordering anything here.” You were pretty confused.

But when you saw who it was from you looked up at the computer screen, smiling like crazy. “You sent me something, Cameron?”

“Maybe, I don’t know. Why don’t you find out?” His lips had formed into a smirk, trying so hard to hide his smile.

You excitedly ripped open the packaging and finally saw what was inside.

There was a big book-looking thing that had your and Rafe’s names and the date you started dating on it.

“Since we couldn’t see each other today, I couldn’t give it to you myself, so I had to mail it to you. I really hope you like it because I spent like a month doing it.”

“Rafe…” you looked at him in awe. 

“Shut up and open it. I wanna know what you think.”

So you opened it. And you started almost instantly crying.

“It’s a scrapbook. I put a lot of pictures there and wrote about our dates and stuff. I also added some Spotify codes and you can listen to the songs that remind me of you,” he explained.

“This is literally the sweetest thing anyone’s ever given me. You did this all by yourself?” It was hard for you to speak because you were crying so hard.

“Baby, please don’t cry. And yes, I did it all by myself.”

You two spent about thirty minutes going through the book. Rafe explained everything he had written there and why he added the songs and why they reminded him of you.

When you reached the end, the last page was basically empty. There was only a Spotify code on it.

“What’s this song?” you asked.

“It’s ‘Turn Around’ by Conor Maynard.”

“And what does it mean?”

Suddenly you heard his voice in real life. “It means you should turn around right now.”

So you did, surprise in your face. He was standing right there, a few feet away from you. 

You wiped the tears away from your eyes, thinking you couldn’t really see correctly and it wasn’t him standing there. But it was. He was really there. In your parents’ backyard.

“No fucking way!” You basically jumped up and ran in between his arms that he was holding out for you.

“How are you here and why?” you asked while crying into his chest.

“You really wanna know why I’m here today?” he asked, smiling widely at you. You could see that his eyes were getting glossy too.

“Yes.”

He let go of you, knelt to the ground, and pulled out a little red velvet box from his pocket.

“Y/N, I’ve loved you basically since the day we met, even though I acted like a jerk in the beginning.”

“No, this can’t be happening. I’m dreaming,” you sobbed.

“Shut up and let me finish. Anyways, as I was about to say, I know you’re the one for me. How do I know it? You are the reason I stopped doing drugs. I wanted to be better for you. You’re the reason I wake up every day. If it wasn’t for you I would’ve never probably started studying in college. You were there for me when no one else was. And you’re literally perfect in any way. You love me the way I am. Which many people don’t. I want you to be beside me forever. I want us to travel the world, start a family, etc. The thing is, Y/N, I’m so in love with you and I can’t imagine my life without you anymore.”

He took a breath and then opened the little box. But you didn’t even look at the ring. You were staring straight into his eyes.

“So, Y/N Y/L/N, will you make me the happiest man in the world and do me the honors of marrying me?”

You rapidly nodded, not being able to form any words at the moment. You fell to your knees and wrapped placed your hands onto his cheeks, pulling him into an emotional kiss.

When you broke apart, he took the ring out of the box and slid it onto your ring finger. Now you finally got a glimpse of it. It was a simple silver ring but it was really really beautiful.

“I love you, Rafe, so much.”

He wiped away the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs.“I love you too. Can’t wait for you to have my last name. Also, happy anniversary, babe!”

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