#I’m still not caught up but when I caught up to that point I was like wow. this moment is wild. nothing can top it.
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hoshifighting · 2 days ago
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subby mingyu getting handjob from reader while hes tied up to the bed, she promises to make him cum but when he’s close she moves her hand away and starts fingering herself. pure torture 🥰
edging sub!mingyu
WARNINGS: smut, edging, masturbation [f. & m.], dom!reader x sub!mingyu.
mingyu looks up at you with those big, dumb, puppy-dog eyes, his wrists tugging at the restraints like he forgot you tied him up in the first place. “please ma'am,” he whines, chest heaving, sweat already glistening on his neck. “ma'am, you said—”
you cut him off with a lazy smirk, your fingers wrapping back around his cock, the tip flushed and leaking like it’s begging for you to make it cum and spurt all over. “yeah, yeah, i said i’d let you cum,” you tease, your grip just firm enough to make him gasp, “but when did i ever say when?”
his head falls back onto the pillow with a pathetic groan, and you swear you can feel the bedframe shudder with how hard he’s pulling against the ties. “ma'am you’re so mean..!”
you pump him slow, so slow it’s borderline cruel, and his thighs twitch like he’s gonna lose his mind. his bottom lip is caught between his teeth, brows furrowed like he’s fighting not to explode too soon. but mingyu’s always been a lightweight when it comes to you, and the way his cock jerks in your hand tells you he’s so close.
you wait until his breathing gets erratic, his hips stuttering, his whole body tightening like a rubber band about to snap... and then?
you pull your hand away.
“wha—wait, no! what the hell?!” mingyu chokes out, his voice cracking, his head snapping up to look at you. his eyes are wild, his cock twitching helplessly, and you almost laugh at the mere betrayal on his face.
“aww,” you pout, not even trying to hide the mockery in your tone. “poor baby.” and then, just to drive the point home, you slide your hand down between your own thighs, your fingers disappearing where you know he wants to be.
“no, no, no—” he starts, but the word cuts off with a strangled groan when you start fingering yourself right in front of him. the wet, filthy sounds fill the room, and mingyu’s eyes are locked on your hand, his cock twitching like it’s physically pained by the sight.
“this is your fault,” you say, your voice breathy. “if you weren’t so greedy, maybe i’d let you finish.” you drag your fingers out, glistening with slick, and hold them up for him to see. “guess i’m having all the fun.”
mingyu thrashes against the restraints, whining, “please, i’ll be good, i’ll do anything—”
“anything?” you raise an eyebrow, and his nod is so desperate it’s almost funny, his eyes big, and his eyebrow knit together. “hmm. maybe next time,” you hum, slipping your fingers back inside yourself with a soft moan.
mingyu groans like he’s in actual agony, his cock leaking against his stomach, his hips twitching into the air while he’s still chasing a release that’s never coming.
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mephisto-reporting · 2 days ago
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I Love You: Zayne Edition
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Premise:
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Trope: Pure fluff
Pairing:Reader x Xavier
Note: Reader and the men are NOT in a relationship. but there is implied mutual attraction. Let me know if you want to be a part of my taglist.
Sylus Edition | Rafayel Edition | Xavier Edition | Zayne Edition
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The laughter of old friends lingered in the air like a melody, soft and bittersweet. The dinner had been perfect—good food, even better company, and the warmth of shared memories. Sitting at the long table, surrounded by people who had been a part of your life since childhood, you had caught Zayne’s gaze more than once. It wasn’t intentional, at least, not at first.
He looked effortlessly composed, as always. His sharp jawline and the faintest crease of a smirk tugging at his lips made him seem untouchable. Throughout the night, you’d caught his subtle glances—the way his eyes crinkled slightly when you laughed, the careful way he leaned over to refill your water glass before you even noticed it was empty. And then there were the small, almost imperceptible brushes of his hand against yours whenever you passed the breadbasket or reached for your drink at the same time. Each touch was a reminder of the unspoken tension between you.
The night air carried the faint hum of the city, punctuated by the distant honk of a horn and the occasional ripple of laughter from late-night strollers. The dinner had been wonderful, filled with shared stories and easy laughter with childhood friends. But now, the aftermath of your ill-chosen heels was a different story entirely.
You felt every uneven crack in the pavement as if it were a personal affront, the sharp, biting ache radiating from the balls of your feet. Still, you pushed forward, keeping your chin high despite the way your steps faltered. No way were you going to let Zayne have the satisfaction of saying, I told you so. His calm, knowing voice from earlier in the evening echoed mockingly in your head. “Those shoes are impractical. You’ll regret it.”
He had been right, of course, but you weren’t about to admit it. Not now. Not when he walked beside you, his steps steady and effortless, his expression composed as ever.
"You’re doing alright?" Zayne's voice cut through your thoughts, calm and steady, like he was used to offering medical assessments, even when you weren’t exactly asking. His eyes flickered down to your feet, then back up to your face.
"Yeah, totally," you lied through clenched teeth, trying not to let the discomfort show.
He didn’t buy it. His brow furrowed slightly, and the corner of his mouth tugged into a faint, knowing smirk. “You’re limping..." he said matter-of-factly.
“I’m not!!!” you lied, trying to straighten your posture. “Just… taking my time.”
But Zayne was nothing if not observant. His sharp, dark eyes flicked toward you, catching the subtle winces you tried to mask. Without a word, he stopped in his tracks, his hand lightly brushing your elbow to halt your stride.
“Sit.” he instructed, his tone firm but not unkind, as he gestured to a nearby bench.
“Zayne, it’s fine—”
“Sit.” he repeated, cutting through your protest with that no-nonsense authority he wielded so effortlessly. There was no point in arguing.
Reluctantly, you lowered yourself onto the bench, feeling both relief and frustration as the pressure eased from your aching feet. Before you could say another word, Zayne crouched before you, his hands already reaching for your footwear.
“Zayne, what are you—”
“Be still!" he said, his voice soft but commanding as he slipped one heel off, then the other, with meticulous care. His touch was warm against your skin, his fingers deft and steady as they began to knead the tender arches of your feet.
A low groan escaped you before you could stop it, and Zayne’s lips quirked into a small, knowing smile. “Your posture’s terrible in shoes like these,” he remarked clinically, his thumbs pressing into a particularly sore spot with just the right amount of pressure. “They force your spine into unnatural alignment and strain the muscles in your legs. Long-term use could cause chronic pain.”
You grumbled, looking down at him, feeling the tinge of frustration mix with the discomfort. "I know, I know," you muttered, "but they look so good, Zayne. They make me feel pretty."
His eyes softened, his usual stoic expression shifting into something more vulnerable, more genuine. He looked up at you, and his lips quirked into a small, fond smile. "It’s not the shoes that make you pretty," he said softly, his voice warm and sincere. "It’s your charm. Your beauty. Your warmth. It’s all you."
The sincerity in his tone made your chest tighten, and for a moment, you forgot about the ache in your feet altogether. The way Zayne looked at you, his gaze full of adoration, made your chest ache in a good way. He wasn’t the type to express such things openly, but in this moment, you knew he meant it with every fiber of his being.
Before you could say anything in response, Zayne stood, shrugging off his own shoes with a small shake of his head. "Here," he said, holding them out to you, "you can wear these for now."
You raised an eyebrow, a teasing grin tugging at your lips as you looked at the shoes, which were far too big for you. "You want me to wear those?" you asked, the idea almost comical.
Zayne raised an eyebrow, unamused. "Either that," he said, with an almost imperceptible smirk, "or I carry you the rest of the way."
You stared at him, incredulous. "You’re serious, aren’t you?"
He gave a nod, his gaze unwavering, and then the smirk appeared again—soft, amused, but still holding a hint of challenge. "Take your pick." he said, a playful edge in his voice, though there was no mistaking the sincerity behind it.
You sighed, unable to stop the soft laugh that escaped you, and shook your head. "Fine," you muttered, slipping your feet into his shoes, which were comically large on you but at least offered some relief. "But this better be the last time you ever say 'I told you so'."
Zayne chuckled, a deep, quiet sound that made your stomach flip, but just as you were about to speak again, something inside you caught. The words slipped from your lips before you could stop them.
"I love you, Zayne."
The words hung in the air between you, startling both of you into silence. Zayne froze, his eyes wide and startled, his usual calm demeanor completely shattered for a heartbeat. His gaze locked onto yours, as if he were trying to make sense of what you’d just said, his expression a mixture of surprise, confusion, and something that could only be described as vulnerability.
"Wait," he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. "Did you—did you just—"
You nodded, your own heartbeat suddenly loud in your ears. You didn’t know where the words had come from, but now that they were out there, you couldn’t take them back.
Zayne blinked, then slowly, hesitantly, he leaned forward. "Say it again," he asked, his voice surprisingly soft, vulnerable.
You swallowed, feeling the weight of the moment, but you didn’t hesitate this time. "I love you, Zayne."
A slow, almost disbelieving smile spread across his face, the kind that made your heart stutter. His eyes softened further, the stoicism melting away to reveal a quiet, unguarded joy.
“I love you too,” he said, his voice steady but laced with something raw and real. He let the words hang between you for a moment before his usual dry humor crept back in. “If I’d known a foot massage would get you to say that, I’d have done it a long time ago.”
You laughed, the sound light and breathless, the tension between you dissolving into something warm and easy. He held out his hand, pulling you to your feet and steadying you as you adjusted to the unfamiliar fit of his shoes.
With your heels in one hand and his arm firmly wrapped around your waist, he led you toward the car, his grip on you unyielding. The two of you walked slowly toward the car, his steps matching yours as if to ensure you didn’t falter. His touch was steady, grounding. And for the first time, you realized that this—his presence, his calm strength, his quiet devotion—felt like home.
As you reached the car, Zayne tightened his arm around you for just a moment, his lips brushing your temple in a gesture so tender it made your heart ache. “Stay with me,” he said softly, almost to himself. “For tonight. And for longer, forever if I can help it.”
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AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!
Sylus Edition | Rafayel Edition | Xavier Edition | Zayne Edition
Taglist: @cordidy
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gotta-winwin · 3 days ago
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(💬) ... vernon chwe x reader
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⭐ starring: vernon
💬 preview: the seemingly 'extraterrestrial' man that occupies Cubicle #218 cannot seem to take a hint - no matter how many flashing signs you throw at him.
tw/cw: fluff, corporate vernon, vernon is an oblivious lil shit, allusions to sex, quotes from b.e.d by Jacquees, shameless flirting and banter
based on an ask (hi + thanks for requesting!) as well as b.e.d by Jacquees MDNI
🪽fic rating/wc: pg 13/ 3.5k
☁️ masterlist & a/n: i am forever stuck in this vernon loop - alas, here's a request that's been sitting in my inbox for awhile, brewing vernon thoughts the whole time. although this fic is entirely fluff, there are allusions to sex so please be mindful of your age and the fic rating.
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Vernon would have quit his job a long time ago if it hadn’t been for you. A part of him still yearned for the stage, a trusty guitar in his hands and the sound of diehard fans screaming his name. Instead, he had found himself stuck, circling the corporate ladder, clocking in to work everyday just to sit in his one lonely cubicle, staring at numbers he had only pretended to understand when getting his degree. 
He had his resignation letter signed and ready to go, and he would have handed it in if it hadn’t been for the notes that had begun to appear.
Colorful post-it notes that he’d find in the most random places - first his desk, then his lunchbox, in the pocket of his coat, stuck dead center on his computer screen. It baffled him, yet the notes kept coming, every single day of work without fail. At first he had scoffed, chalking it up to some silly office prank, but as time progressed, the notes became almost a given, as if the notes itself had rooted into his everyday routine. It filled him with anticipation and a reason to clock in everyday. As much as he hesitated to admit it, the silly notes made his day.
Of course, the notes were anonymous. Vernon had no idea that you were the reason he still showed up to work. 
“This is basically workplace harassment.” Anne, your closest co-worker, commented, as she watched you pen your next note to Vernon. She was the only one who knew it was you behind the colorful post-its.
“If he didn’t like it he would’ve told HR months ago.” You argued, ripping the completed note off the pad of bright orange post-its. “Besides, you’ve seen him smile at the notes. Even got a laugh out of him a couple times.” 
“But-” Anne snatched the note from you and read it aloud. “I hope our love will be like the number Pi: irrational and endless.” She shook her head, tsking. “Even for a compsci major, Y/N, Vernon would never find this funny. And if he does- he’s either mocking you, or his humor is just as broken as yours.”
“It’s funny!” You protested, snatching the note back. “Besides, I don’t even know where to leave this one. I’m running out of creative ideas.”
“What’s the point? You just need him to see it, right?”
You gave her a look. “There’s a higher probability of him laughing if he doesn’t expect the note. The less obvious the place, the better. He can’t be actively looking for it.” 
Anne sighed, spinning her chair back to face her work desk. “Compsci nerds.” 
Ignoring her, you continued. “I’m torn between leaving it taped to his water bottle, or taped to his bike.” 
“Of course Cubicle Number 218 Vernon Chwe would bike to work.” Anne rolled her eyes. “How old is this man? Can’t he drive?” 
“Hey!” You protested once again, defending him. “Maybe he just lives close, more cost-efficient you know.”  
Anne sighed. “Tape it to his bike.” Her fingers tapped against her keyboard as she spoke. “He’s definitely not going to be expecting that one.”
Your smile widened, already imagining his little stunned expression. “Okay. Cover for me- I’ll be right back.”
“Whatever.” Anne mumbled, although you caught a glance of the amused smile on her face. 
It was famously known throughout your office that the resident of Cubicle #218, Hansol Vernon Chwe, did not smile. He came into work and left while sporting the exact same facial expression the entire time. But you knew he smiled at your silly pick-up lines, no matter how stupid. And you knew that you might be the only person who knew just how pretty Vernon’s laugh was- even if it was from a distance.
If only you knew just how much Vernon wanted to know who was behind the silly notes that were his pick-me-up each day. 
You: 1 Vernon: 0
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“I wanna live in your socks so I can be with you every step of the way.”
Vernon snorted audibly as he read the note, this time written on a hot pink post-it. His neighbouring co-workers snuck glances at him, drawn by the sudden noise. 
He ignored their stares, tucking the note into his jacket pocket for later. He was slowly amassing a collection of them, his desk back at home covered in multicolored post-its, each one from a different day. Sometimes the lines would be so terrible he’d shudder in cringe, but more often than not, he’d find them genuinely funny. 
Grabbing a file he needed faxed, Vernon made his way to the copier down the hall. Someone was already occupying it- and he realized he recognized her, the pretty girl who lived in cubicle #17. 
He could hear the loud music coming from her headphones, poorly hidden under her strands of hair. 
“Charli?” He asked, recognizing the familiar beats and rhythm of the song. 
He watched you turn around to face him, startled by his sudden appearance. “What?”
He pointed awkwardly to your headphones. “Is that Charli XCX? I didn’t think your name was Charli, don’t worry. It’s Y/N, right?” He rambled on, smiling sheepishly. 
You blinked, a little dazed by the amount of words he was suddenly speaking to you. You had always thought, like everyone else in the office, that Vernon was somehow untouchable. Someone so mysterious and way out of reality that the two of you just didn’t exist on the same plane of the universe. But now here he was, talking to you like it was the most normal thing in the world. 
“Yeah.” You answered, after realizing you had just been blankly staring at him. “To both questions.” You quickly added, equally awkward. “It’s Charli XCX and my name is Y/N.”
“Great.” His gaze drifted past you towards the copier. “Are you nearly done?” Holding up the file in his hand, he gestured behind you. “I need to fax something.” 
“Oh!” Hurriedly moving aside, you let out a tiny laugh. “I wasn’t really using it. Sometimes I just come in here and pretend I’m busy- to get away from how stuffy the office is. I don’t know why I just told you that.” You were mortified, glancing at him to make sure he wasn’t judging you.
Vernon’s lips were quirked into a smirk, as he tried hard to push down the laughter that was threatening to bubble up inside of him. Ultimately failing, his mouth widened into a smile as he laughed, the sound filling your ears better than any song could. 
“I like you.” He stated, as if it was such a simple thing and didn’t have your heart racing. “You’re funny.”
His smile widened once he caught sight of your open mouth, stunned into silence at the new side of Mr. Cubicle #218 you were currently seeing. 
“Close your mouth.” He mumbled, reaching a hand out to do it for you, his fingertips lightly pressing against your jaw. “You look like a fish.” 
“I- what?” You spluttered, moving a step back. 
Vernon shot you another melting smile, picking up his file and closing the copier. “Anyways, I’m all done. Are you going to hide out here some more?” He kept his eyes on you as he stacked the papers in his hands, organizing them against a nearby table. 
You nodded dumbly, eyes following his movement as he walked out, stopping by the doorway to shoot you a tiny salute before turning away. He walked down the hall with a gait only he had, disappearing down the hallway, leaving you feeling extremely confused, your cheeks oddly warm. 
You: 1 Vernon: 1
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“Are you a worm? Cause I’d like to split you apart.” 
Morbid, yes, but you were slowly running out of ideas. Placing the sticky note strategically in his work bag, you scurried off, ducking behind a bookshelf to watch his reaction. 
“Are you a worm-” Vernon made a face as he read the note aloud. “Ew. Weird. Kinky?” He looked up at the ceiling, a concerning yet intrigued look on his face. A chuckle escaped him and you smiled in your success. 
Your work days seemed to blow right by with the joy in knowing you had successfully made him laugh, mind still churning through your last encounter with Vernon by the copier a couple weeks ago. It had both startled you and ignited something within- a longing to know more about him. 
“Looks like we’re the only ones left.” 
You looked up, blinking your dry and strained eyes, spotting Vernon hovering right above your cubicle wall, a tired expression filling his face. You glanced around the office and realized he was right. 
“Has it already been that long?” You wondered, rubbing your eyes as you shut off your computer, standing up to stretch your stiff back. 
You could’ve sworn Vernon snorted at your words. “Do you enjoy working here? Time does fly when you’re having fun.”
You shook your head. “God, no. I’ve just got a lot on my mind, that’s all.” Yeah, you. 
An unspeakable look crossed his face as he grabbed your coat, helping you put it on. “C’mon, we can walk together.” 
“Oh. Thanks- alright.” 
The walk was amicably silent as you fell in step beside him, clutching your winter coat tightly as you both entered against the harsh wind. You spotted his banged up yellow bike across the street and bit back a grin. 
“You bike to work and back?” You asked, although you already knew the answer. You often passed him on your own way to work, spotting him through the windshield of your car. Nearly ran him over once, in your earlier days of working, but you don’t speak of that.
“I do.” Vernon patted the trusty bike with a loving hand. “Never failed me once.” 
A laugh escaped you, your breath hitting the winter wind and turning into a light fog. 
His eyebrows raised. “Are you laughing at me?” His lips quivered up as he watched you descend into laughter once again. 
“No!” You exclaimed through a fit of giggles, clutching your stomach. “Oh god, it’s just- Vernon Chwe- on a bike-”
A clear and infectious cackle of a laugh joined yours as Vernon too, doubled over in laughter. You paused, staring wide-eyed as giggles escaped him, thoroughly entertained by the amusement you had found in his transportation method. 
Passerbys would have deemed the pair of you as mad, with the way you clutched onto Vernon’s arm to hold yourself up as you laughed harder, his own hand gripping yours in the bitter wind. It was numbingly cold but both of your insides were warm, cheeks flushed due to the ridiculous image of Vernon on a bike. 
Y/N: 1 Vernon: 1 The universe(?): 1
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“Yo.” 
Your music paused suddenly, jolting you out of your zone. Spinning around in your chair, you frowned up at Vernon, who had somehow swiped your phone from your desk without you noticing. 
“What’s up?” You sighed, taking off your headphones to glare at him. “You didn’t need to pause my music, y’know.” 
“I’ve been sent on a coffee run, wanna come?” He spread his arms open in invitation. “We can take as long as we like.” 
Ditching work for a while did sound like a nice pastime, especially with the lack of work you had currently. “I wouldn’t mind a breath of fresh air, actually. I’m down.”
“Put on your coat.” Vernon handed it to you, watching as you shrugged it on. 
“I know you want to be in my b.e.d, grinding slowly.” 
The last note had taken him terribly off guard and he needed a distraction to remedy that. 
To be fair, you didn’t really know what had gotten into you- the sudden bravado and confidence put into the note had caught you terribly off guard as well. 
“Do you know Joshua? He works in upper management but we’re pretty good friends.” Vernon suddenly asked, walking backwards along the sidewalk so he could look at you. 
You nodded. “I’ve seen him around. He’s very social.” Unlike you, you declined to add. 
“Yes. He’s hosting a social gathering later tonight, and asked if I could invite you.”
“He asked you to invite me?” You shot him a wary look, not quite believing him. You and Joshua barely passed as acquaintances. 
Vernon’s hand reached behind his neck as he rubbed his nape, a sheepish and embarrassed expression on his face. You noticed his ears would turn pink whenever he was even mildly shy. “Okay, maybe I just wanted to invite you, alright?” He turned away, walking properly now to hide his face from your keen eyes. 
A slow smile crossed your face. “Oh, no.” You mimed dread. “You’re in love with me, aren’t you.”
“What?” Vernon turned so fast you reckoned he must’ve gotten whiplash. 
“I’m joking.” Punching his arm lightly, you gave him a lighthearted smile, ignoring the way your heart pounded at the brunt question. “I’d love to go to the little party. You didn’t have to use Joshua to invite me.”
“Well,” Vernon’s ears turned pink once again. “I’d say I’d pick you up and give you a ride home after, but- I don’t think we’d both fit on my bike.” 
Both your lips twitched at the reminder of that night, where the two of you had laughed like it was the first time either one of you had found anything remotely funny. 
“I’ll drive.” You offered, once the wave of silent laughter dissipated. “You can hitch your bike to the back of my car.” 
“Me,” Vernon’s mouth dropped comically as he pressed his hands to his chest. “A passenger princess? How lucky.”
His smile widened as you laughed, and he shamelessly basked in the sound of it. 
Y/N: 2? Vernon: 2? The universe: 1
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The smell of musk was the first thing that hit you as the two of you entered Joshua’s townhouse. It was a small, quaint place, decorated to the brim with trinkets and flower pots, overflowing with both people and food. Vernon led the way as you shuffled in, greeting familiar faces and smiling at strangers. 
“I thought you said ‘small gathering.’” You yelled, tiptoed next to Vernon so you could reach his ear. 
You could tell from his eyes that he had no idea what you were saying. “What?” He yelled back, although his voice was carried away by the crowd as well.
“I said-” You felt like you might burst a lung trying to communicate. “I thought you said, ‘small gathering!’” 
He stared at you blankly, blinking slowly, evidently still not in the loop. 
Giving up, you were about to turn away when you suddenly felt his whole body shake, quivering against you as he laughed. 
“What the fuck?” You yelled, this time right in his face. 
“I heard you the first time, silly.” He yelled back, a shit-eating grin spreading wider as he watched your eyebrows furrow. 
“Party Vernon sucks.” You concluded, moving away, only to be pulled back by his hand on your arm.
“Didn’t you complain that I was too ‘mysterious’?” He yelled, laughing harder when you visibly paled. “Yeah, I heard that. But it’s okay. I am very…how did you put it. Sullen, at work.”
Hiding your face, you slapped his chest, causing him to groan in pain. 
“Ow.” 
“Ow.” You mocked back. There really was no answer as to where the sudden childishness came from, but the way Vernon was staring at you- it made reason seem almost meaningless.
He threw his head back and laughed, soundless against the party’s atmosphere but somehow just as electrifying. 
“Have fun, Y/N.” He said, grabbing your hands. “Let’s dance.” 
Y/N: 2 Vernon: 3 The universe: 1
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You had always sworn by the fact that driving late at night with the windows down, cold air blowing through your hair was the way to go. 
“Admit it!” Vernon yelled through the wind, glancing at you from the passenger seat. “You had fun tonight.”
“I did.” You admitted. The party had been overwhelming at first, but the later the night got, the more fun you discovered yourself to have. “I haven’t had a night like that in a while.”
You braked at a red light and flipped through your playlist, switching on the one song you knew would get a reaction out of Vernon. 
“I know you wanna love But I just wanna fuck And girl, you know the deal I gotta keep it real I know you wanna see I know you wanna be In my B.E.D., grinding slowly”
The light turned green and you continued to drive, the roads empty and deserted, street lamps illuminating the world in a soft amber. Occasionally, you’d glance over at Vernon, who was bopping his head to the beat, murmuring the lyrics under his breath. 
Oblivious man. 
Reaching over, you turned the volume up, as if the louder the music was, it’d somehow reverberate its message into his skull. Get a hint! You wanted to scream at him. I’m kind of in love with you and want to jump your bones! Hello??
Vernon continued to groove to the music without a care in the world.
“This is a good song!” He yelled in your ear, his voice mixed with the whistling of the air, whooshing past you. 
“I know!” You screamed back. Oh my god. Is he really this dense? 
The song kept playing as you drove, winds calming down as you neared his place. In between the gap of the song switching to the next, Vernon spoke, his calm voice contrastingly the loudness before. 
“I think I’m going to quit the job.” 
You nearly crashed the car at his words, jerking the steering wheel back as you computed his words. “What?”
“I mean,” he turned in his seat to face you, his hair catching the last pieces of moonlight and shimmering against his skin. “I’ve always hated my job. And I already wrote a resignation letter and everything.” 
“Oh.” 
He must’ve noticed your silence, because he quickly continued. “Who knows? I might try being a rockstar or something.” 
“A rockstar?” You let out an astonished laugh. Vernon Chwe seemed to be surprising you at every turn, even when you felt like you'd already figured him out. 
He hummed. “Yeah. It just keeps..calling me, y’know?”
“Well then you should go for it.” You parked into the driveway of his apartment complex and turned to face him. “Really.”
“You think so?” His eyes were sparkling like precious jewels. 
“Yeah. I do.”
Even though you knew that meant your next note would be your last. 
Y/N: -10 Vernon: 3 The universe: -10
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The office seemed even colder without the presence of Vernon around you. Even though he had always kept to himself, you could feel the lack of “Vernon” in the atmosphere. How he’d entrance you with the funny way he’d walk down the hall, his countless snack breaks and your shared copier trips. But most of all- it was the lack of notes.
“First day without Mr. Cubicle Number 218, how do you feel?” Anne asked you from her own desk. “Although, I guess he’s not 218 anymore, huh?”
“Yeah.” You stared dejectedly at your computer screen. “This job sucks.”
“Please don’t tell me you’re quitting too.” Anne let out a loud sigh. “I still think you should’ve told him you liked him.”
“I did!” You protested, rather loudly, drawing odd looks from nearby coworkers. 
“You played a sex song in the car.” Anne pointed out, lowering her voice. “That is not confessing.” 
“Well he should’ve put two and two together. The lyrics on the note was from that song.”
Anne laughed. “We’re talking about the male species. They wouldn’t know subtlety if it ran them over with a truck.” 
“Whatever.” You muttered, returning to sulk in front of your giant mountain of paperwork. “He definitely didn’t like me like that anyways.” Sifling through the papers, you sighed. “I’m going to fax these, I’ll be right back.” 
Anne only hummed, too engrossed by whatever she was reading on her phone. 
Opening up the copier, you frowned at the paper already sitting there, a hot pink post-it note with messy handwriting scrawled on it. 
“With all the variables in life, baby can you be my constant?” 
You didn’t remember writing this. 
“Call me ;)” 
A loud laugh escaped you as you covered your mouth, looking around to make sure you hadn’t been caught loitering in the copy room once again. Grabbing your phone from your pocket you fumbled the numbers on the bottom of the note in, raising it to your ear as you listened to it ring. 
“Hello?” You whispered, cupping your hand around your mouth to avoid detection. 
Silence.
“Vernon?” 
The sound of shuffling from the other line reached your ears. “You didn’t think I was just going to leave without saying goodbye, right?”
“Vernon?” 
“Actually, pretend I didn’t say that.” 
Your heart puttered to a stop.
“When can I see you again?” 
Y/N: 0 Vernon: ♾️ The universe: 0
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lieslab · 2 days ago
Text
And at last I see the light
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꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎
Pairing: Minho X gn reader
Summary: Half-delirious and sick, you randomly tell Minho about your dream proposal and he takes notes.
Genre: Fluff
Word Count: 2.5K
A/N: I'm sappy and emotional. This was definitely inspired by Tangled. What can I say? I'm just a girl who cries easily and thinks about love a lot. Can a girl not ponder? Anyway, if you get choked up at proposals, grab a tissue or two.
_ _ _
The simple conversation was so long ago that you forgot about it. It was a brief moment in passing, just another random conversation, but Minho didn’t forget it. In fact, he’d been planning since then. 
“If I were to propose to you, where would you want it and how would you want it done?” 
The two of you were on opposite ends of the couch. Your body was heavy with the weight of a random stomach bug. Through the stomach aches and nausea, you were fading in and out of consciousness. Minho wanted to take you to your shared bed, but you refused. Too worried about making him sick, you opted to stay on the couch. 
Every time he came close to you, you stubbornly held your breath and threatened to make yourself pass out. It was dramatic, but it wasn’t unusual for you, you always were. Too afraid of giving him the same bug, you did your best to keep your distance. 
You didn’t get the exact wish you were hoping and praying for. At some point, you fell asleep and he covered you in a thick fleece blue blanket. A kiss was planted to the top of your sleeping temple before he strolled back over to the couch. He curled up on the other side and kept an eye on you. 
The television was already on, but he twitched the show to something silly with cartoon characters. You needed your rest and he didn’t want you to wake up and stress out your brain by trying to follow along with a half-over plot. He picked out the most childish show and let it play. 
When you woke up, you awoke to dancing shadows and the gentle vibrations of the leather couch. Across the way, Minho couldn’t help, but laugh at something that a character said. He grinned and kept his eyes on the flickering screen. 
You caught his attention when you sleepily uttered his name. He quickly lowered the volume, got up, and rushed to get you water. You still refused to let him be too close, so all he could do was keep his distance and observe your stubborn self. 
The conversations didn’t have a steady theme. He talked about one thing and then another. You jumped from topic-to-topic with him. You were about ready to fall asleep again when he asked you that question. 
“Tangled,” you mumbled. 
His eyebrows pinched together and he studied your face. Your sleepy eyes were half-lidded and a yawn tugged your mouth into a small o-shape. A smile grew on half of his face and he asked for clarification. 
“The scene where Rapunzel and Flynn are in the gondola with the flying lanterns.” 
“What about it?” 
“Maybe not the gondola, but with the flying lanterns.” You nuzzled your head back against the cool leather. “I’ve always thought they were beautiful. It’d be the perfect memory.” 
“You think so?” 
“I know so, but you can’t propose to me when I’m sick. I don’t feel good and I think I’d throw up on your shoes. I think the lights would somehow make me nauseous.” 
“You poor, poor thing,” he teased you. 
“Mmhm. Poor me.” Your eyes slipped shut and you let out a sigh. He watched you slowly drift back to sleep with the cartoons long forgotten about. His brain went into overdrive that night. 
Loving Minho was the easiest choice you ever made. From his quick wit to his loudness, it was the best choice. Not a single soul could compare and it was something you tried not to take for granted. 
Whether it was arguing about who deserved the last pudding, or sitting in silence while Minho laid on your lap, your love was so simple. Life went on and the conversation erased from your brain, but it didn’t stop you from having moments when you watched him with a soft fondness. 
Your body relaxed and inside your chest, your heart stuttered as your brain tried to capture those little moments. Sometimes, it was as simple as him leaning over the stove and stirring whatever dish he was trying to make. Other times, it was when he was bare faced and stretched out on the couch with one of his cats upon his lap. 
His messy hair poked out in every direction from running his hand through it. After dance practice, his muscles ached and he just wanted to sit down and take a bit of time to relax. You usually joined him and crept over, snuggling beneath his arm to keep him warm. He’d whine and complain of your sudden presence, but he never pulled away. 
He liked when you wrapped your arms around his torso and pressed a soft kiss against the side of his neck. Just as you grew fond of him, he grew smitten with you. He joked that his love for you was like a pesky bunion that just wouldn’t go away. 
Meanwhile, you compared it to wild mushrooms. You could try to stop loving him, but the love would keep sprouting up. Just when you thought there was nothing more to love, you’d turn your back for a brief moment and glance back to find another thing to love; another mushroom sprouted through damp soil. 
Everything was warm and bright. In your eyes, everything was right and as the days turned into weeks, when those weeks burrowed into months, and began to roll into years, Minho knew he had you forever. He was going to take advantage of your sleepy-sick state and put his plans into action one day, but it never seemed like the right time. The two of you were always busy and time kept going, your love was an endless sea, but he wanted to make it truly official. 
That wish came true when spring unveiled itself. With the chirping birds and baby bunnies, there was finally going to be a lantern festival. Rejuvenation, rebirth, and earth’s restoration; the perfect time to take the next step in your relationship. 
“Wear something nice.”
“I always wear something nice.” 
“Your constant state of sweatpants and hoodies says otherwise.” 
“Fuck off!” 
He just wanted you to look back at the video and be content with what you were wearing. The lantern festival was a rarity and you already had your best outfit picked out. You went through the entire routine of making yourself look good and then put it on. 
It was a miracle that you didn’t notice the bouncing of his non-driving leg. He shifted in the seat a few times, but your nose was pressed against the passenger’s seat glass. You were going on and on about how excited you were for the festival, you always wanted to attend one. 
You were unaware that the fate of your relationship sat in a small square box in Minho’s pocket. The weight of it in his pocket wasn’t much, but tonight, it felt like the ring he picked out was a thousand pounds. He kept glancing over at you and imagining what your face would look like. If it was ugly, he would be sure to tease you about it. 
The two of you arrived twenty minutes before the lanterns were set to be released. Finding a parking space was difficult, but by some miracle, he managed to find an empty space to squeeze his car into. He grabbed your hand and headed to the area to grab a lantern. 
“Are you getting one too?” You asked, practically bouncing on the balls of your feet. 
“No, I just want to watch you light and release yours. You’ve been wanting this, right? It’s your night to shine.” 
“Well, yeah, but I thought you were going to do it with me.” You frowned and couldn’t hide the disappointment from your voice. 
“Just don’t worry about it, have your fun.” 
After grabbing the paper lantern with a tea light white candle tucked inside, Minho handed it to you. “Remember that you only get one wish, so use it well.” You playfully slapped his shoulder and took the lantern. 
“Maybe I should wish for you to stop being a pain in my ass.” 
“In your dreams.” 
With one hand on the lantern and one hand in Minho’s, you began to lead him through the thicket of people. It seemed like everyone wanted to light and release a lantern too. Maybe it was the same reason as you, people wanted to make a wish. For others, it was a way to remember specific people and other loved ones. 
No matter what the reason was, it made your heart swell with happiness. How human was it to long for peace? People had done this since the beginning of time and tonight wasn’t anything new. 
Little did you know, Minho’s friend was tracking his location. The location sharing app had the exact path they were taking. A few people away, he silently followed with quiet footsteps. In his hand, the phone that’d be used to catch the proposal. 
You wiggled through laughter and tears full of a yearning for loved ones. Tonight, no matter who was here, there was a sense of unity. You could feel the tethered string of your heart plucking at all the sights and sounds. 
When you finally found a spot on a slight grassy hill, the two of you were only near a handful of people. Minho glanced over his shoulder and found his friend’s face in the reflection of a phone light. His friend quickly clicked off his phone, so he could stay hidden in the dark blanket of night.
“How do you feel?” Minho asked. 
“I’m so excited!” You grinned. “I’ve always wanted to do something like this. Ever since I watched Tangled for the first time, the floating lantern scene on the water has always been my favorite scene.” 
“I’m sorry that we’re not on water.” 
“Are you kidding me?” You scoffed. “Look at where we are! This is going to be so beautiful. It’s like we’re holding the stars tonight. For once, they won’t be in the sky, we’ll be capturing them and sending them back home.” 
He pressed his lips together, trying not to get sappy over how excited you were. You were like a little kid as you rambled. Even in the dark, a nearby street light lit up the excitement in your eyes. He’d seen you excited before, but this was something entirely different. 
His hand went into his pant’s pocket to make sure the ring was still there. His hand found the square leather box and his shoulders relaxed. He knew exactly how he’d do this, he was just hoping you’d say yes. 
After a few minutes of talking, your arm shot out and you pointed across the way. “Look! It’s starting! We can light our lantern!”
Our lantern. 
Minho said he wasn’t getting a floating lantern and instead of ignoring his words, you just assumed that the two of you could share the lantern instead. His heart ached with a love for you that he couldn’t understand sometimes. It was little things like that, it made him think he could love you until his heart gave out. 
He reached into his other pocket, held out a lighter, and handed it to you. You held up the lantern and he hesitated. It was only after you nodded that he flicked the flame to life. He placed it back in his pocket and behind him, his friend came closer to record the moment. 
“Come on, grab the lantern and make a wish.” 
“But it’s your lantern.” 
“Lee Minho, so help me, if you don’t grab on and make a wish with me...” 
Across the way, flickering yellows and oranges began to fly higher in the sky. He grabbed the other side of the lantern and together, the two of you raised it higher and higher. After your arms couldn’t stretch anymore, your fingers let go. 
You smiled as you watched it go further and further away. Above the people’s heads, above the buildings, and further and further into the night sky. Your eyes didn’t leave, even when it blended into a crowd of other lights. 
Awe and endearment flooded the area. Shouts of joy and flickers of laughter. No matter what people wished tonight, for once, it felt like it’d be okay. Whatever hurt and whatever harm had touched people’s lives, tonight was the start of something different. 
Every light had a story and each one was a flicker of hope. Into the air, into the sky, and over buildings. Tonight, you weren’t sure where your lantern would land, it’d be up to the universe to decide. 
“So what’d you wish for?” 
You began to spin around at the sound of Minho’s voice. “I wished for-” You gasped and a hand slammed over your mouth. A few feet away, Minho was down on one knee with a box holding a ring. 
“Are you joking?” Your voice wobbled as you spoke. An emotional lump was forming in your throat. Tears blurred your eyes. 
“Will you marry me?” 
“Seriously?” 
“Seriously.” 
“Yes. Yes. Yes!” You vigorously nodded as tears streamed down your cheeks. “A thousand times yes!” 
Before he could get up, you collapsed down beside him. He didn’t get a chance to speak because you threw your arms around his shoulders. You pressed your head into the side of his neck as a choked out sob fell from your lips. 
“Hey, hey, hey.” He wrapped his arms around you tightly. “Why are you crying?” 
“Because,” you weakly squeaked as you pulled away from his body. “This was my wish. I wanted our relationship to last forever.” 
“I guess we both got our wishes tonight. My wish was that you’d say yes.” He chuckled and wiped your tears away with his thumbs. “Can we get up now? I’d like to make it official and put a ring on it.” 
“You’re an idiot,” you mumbled as you pulled your arms away. You allowed him to help pull you up. Your hand stuck out and he began to stick a ring on your finger. 
“That might be true, but I’m your idiot.” He gently grabbed your ring finger and slid on the ring. “Now I’m your idiot forever. Come on, stop crying.” He wiped away more of your tears. 
“I can’t help it, I’ve always dreamed of this. How’d you know this is what I wanted? The floating lights and everything?” Your eyes searched his, but all he offered with a soft hum and a shrug. 
“Love is a mystery like that sometimes.” He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “Come on,” he slowly turned you around. “Let's watch the lanterns, shall we?” An arm wrapped around your shoulders. 
With a final sniffle, you let your head lean against his shoulder. Everything was just as perfect as you’d imagine it to be. Nothing anyone could do would ever be able to top this moment.
Minho glanced over his shoulder and his friend gave him a thumbs up. He stopped the recording and disappeared back into the crowd of people. Tomorrow, Minho would make you watch the video and he’d tease you for your dramatic reaction. 
Tonight, you were just two people whose wishes came true beneath floating lanterns and that was enough for him. 
| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |
Taglist: @lia-linny @straykidsstanforeverandever @seungnishi @stellasays45 @emilyywhyy @rockstarkkami @flightlessackerman
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bread-crum206 · 3 days ago
Text
A Game of Hearts
Chapter ten: Umasked Tension
Summary: Y/N’s father is a VIP for the games, he makes a deal with the Frontman that if he marries his only daughter that he will continue to sponsor the games. However, Y/N is not fond of this decision as she loathes the games and in turn, loathes the Frontman as well. Will she grow to love him? Will he let his walls down?
Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9 Pt 10 Pt 11 Pt 12
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The sun barely filtered through the narrow windows of your quarters as the hours before the VIPs’ arrival drew closer. It was a strange, almost oppressive calm in the air, as though everything was waiting for the storm to hit. The excitement, the nerves—they buzzed just below the surface, threatening to bubble over at any moment.
As the clock ticked closer to the arrival of the VIPs, you began to get ready, slipping into a dress you had reserved for this moment. It was sleek and fitted, a deep shade of emerald green that brought out the natural warmth of your skin. The fabric shimmered faintly, catching the light as you moved, a quiet elegance that felt at odds with the world you were stepping into. The heels you chose were sharp, pointed, giving you a little more height, a little more presence as you prepared to walk into a room full of powerful, untouchable men.
When you finished dressing, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Your reflection was almost foreign to you. The confident and powerful demeanor that you wore was ready, set aside for the moment, but the truth behind your eyes wasn’t hidden yet. There was a sadness there that even the most beautiful dress couldn’t conceal.
The door to the bedroom opened just then, and In-ho stepped in. He was dressed in his usual dark attire, the mask firmly in place. His presence filled the room, but there was something different today—an unspoken understanding between you both. Neither of you needed to say it aloud. You both would have to deal with stuck up rich guys.
“You’re ready,” he said, his voice softer than usual, but still carrying that familiar calmness.
You nodded, biting back a sigh. “I guess.”
There was a brief moment where he just looked at you, his eyes scanning you from head to toe. His gaze wasn’t cold this time. It was different—something that made your heart skip a beat. It was almost like… concern? You couldn’t be sure, but the heat in your cheeks made you wonder if you were imagining it.
Then, without a word, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out something. A mask. The same black one he always wore.
“This is for you,” he said, his voice quieter now, but still firm as he handed it to you.
Your fingers brushed against his as you took the mask, and for a moment, everything felt still. The mask was a reminder. A symbol. You weren’t you anymore. You were a piece of this twisted game.
You glanced at him, feeling the weight of the moment. “I’m ready.”
He didn’t respond immediately, but the look he gave you told you everything you needed to know. It wasn’t just about protecting your identity. It was about playing the game. And you both had already gotten too deep to turn back.
When you stepped into the grand hall, the atmosphere shifted immediately. The VIPs were already gathered, a mix of loud voices and expensive fabrics filling the room. The second you walked in, their eyes landed on you. It was like the room held its breath. The way they looked at you—like a rare piece of art they wanted to own, but could never touch—made your skin crawl.
You tried not to let it show. You couldn’t.
Your father was standing off to the side, his back straight, his expression as cold and distant as ever. He didn’t acknowledge you when you entered, didn’t even glance your way as you walked past him.
That sting—the ache that you couldn’t shake—came rushing back. You tried to hide it, bury it deep beneath the mask you wore. But it was hard. It hurt. More than you cared to admit.
In-ho must have noticed the change in your posture. His hand, warm and firm, landed on your shoulder for a brief moment. The touch was gentle, but it grounded you. Reminded you that, at least for now, you weren’t alone in this.
“You’re doing fine,” he whispered, his voice low, reassuring.
It didn’t fix the pain. Nothing could. But it was enough to keep you moving forward.
It wasn’t long before the VIPs began to circle. Their eyes stayed glued to you, their gazes hungry, eager to inspect, to dissect. They made comments—subtle at first, but the undertones were clear.
“You know, I’ve heard the Frontman is very protective of you,” one man said, his voice dripping with something darker. “But I bet he’s hiding something interesting behind that mask.”
Another VIP, younger, with a smug look on his face, stepped forward. “Maybe we should all get to know each other better,” he said, his eyes lingering on the ring on your finger. “If you’re interested, of course.”
The way they looked at you—it was like you were a puzzle they wanted to solve, something they couldn’t have, but would do anything to possess.
Your stomach twisted, but you forced a smile. You had to. It was part of the game. You had to play along, pretend you were just as interested in their hollow words as they were in your appearance.
Before any of them could step closer, In-ho was there. Like a shield. He placed a hand at the small of your back, guiding you toward the VIP room with quiet authority.
“We’ll be escorting you now,” he said, his tone final, and for a moment, the VIPs seemed to respect the unspoken boundary.
You walked beside him, the tension between you both palpable, but at least for now, you were free from their unwanted attention.
When the VIPs had settled into the room, you thought you might finally get a moment to breathe. But the truth was, there was no escape. Not from the eyes that followed you, not from the games you were forced to play.
And then, you saw him again. Your father.
His eyes flickered to you once more. That cold look. No warmth. No recognition. He just… looked right through you.
It hurt.
———————
Chapter 10!!!!! Woohoo! Lemme know what you think! Thank you!
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haveihitanerve · 2 days ago
Note
Batboys centric in which they come to the realization that Bruce is pretty (not romantically, the kind of pretty when you look at your mom's wedding photos and see her in an amazing dress).
Bruce isn't used to people seeing him as pretty, but her Brucie Wayne persona because that's the whole point of it.
ohohoho i have a hunch this is you and also this is sooooo interesting... lemme see what i got-
“Do you want to come to the tavern with me?” 
The words caught Dick off guard. Both because he hadn’t heard anyone say “tavern” in years, and because Bruce had said it.
“Um?” He glanced up from where he was sprawled over the couch, looking away from his phone. “Yeah? Sure?”
Bruce hummed, reaching up a hand as though to run it through his hair, then thought better of it, and dropped it again. For good reason too.
Dick tripped as he stood, eyes glued to his father, blown wide. Bruce frowned, glancing down at himself.
“What's wrong?” He asked, concerned.
Dick’s cheeks burned and he ducked under Bruce’s arm, heading up the stairs. “Nothing, nothing, I’m just gonna get changed.” He muttered, hurrying up the stairs and ducking behind the corner.
Because what the fuck.
Dick peeked back out, daring a glance back down the stairs at his Dad.
Bruce was wearing a loose fitted light pink tank top, tucked half heartedly into deep navy slacks, hair styled away from his face in a way that clearly revealed his age.
It wasn’t to say that Dick had never seen his Dad in different versions of undressed. Quite the contrary. Their line of work required levels of nudity, whether while dressing an injury, showering, or working their secret identity personas.
But this… Dick shook his head, heading to his room to grab some clothes to change into.
Bruce was… pretty. 
The next time it happened, Dick had witnesses. Jason and Tim were sitting in the den with him, pretending to watch a movie.
Truly, only Jason was actually focused on the story, as it was a movie that had come out when he’d been dead, but Tim would look up on occasion, usually only to draw Jason into a quick debate before dropping his attention back to his phone.
Dick himself was listening to the movie like an audiobook, a real book propped up halfheartedly on his stomach.
“Tim, could you help me quickly?” Bruce called, a moment before he entered the den.
Tim dropped his phone, eager for an excuse to have some work to do, faltering only for a second when he realized the task wasn't case work. No, instead it was much much worse.
Dick lifted his book, cheeks burning, as Jason stared, eyes wide, jaw dropped.
Tim, however, seemed completely unbothered, hands moving quickly and effortlessly to help Bruce out before he dropped back into the seat.
Bruce ruffled his hair with a light smile, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Thanks Timmy. Boys.” He nodded at his eldest and exited again.
“Tim.” Jason hissed the second he was out of hearing, and Dick dropped his book.
Tim, who had returned to his phone, completely unruffled, glanced up, frowning when he spotted their gagged expressions. “What?” He asked, puzzled.
“You just-” Jason floundered.
“You just helped lace Bruce up in a corset.” Dick hissed. Tim blinked, mind whirring.
“Yes?” He finally agreed, still perplexed. “And this is important because…??”
“He’s pretty.” Jason scowled.
Tim laughed. “Guys, you do realize that our Dad is Bruce Wayne right??? The guy who wins every fashion contest? The guy our classmates call hotter than Superman?? The one person where guys go “i’m not gay but…” and girls go “i’m not straight but…” That Bruce Wayne, yeah?”
Dick scowled. “Yes. We’re aware. I’ve had to deal with those comments about him for much longer than you ever have.” He shot petulantly.
Tim raised his hands, brows furrowed. “Then what's the big deal???”
“We know he’s hot.” Jason snapped. “But he’s… he’s just.” He looked at Dick for help.
“He’s never been pretty.” Dick supplied. “Hot, yeah sure, handsome, okay, sexy, ugh, fine. But- but pretty??? He can’t leave the house like that. My ears will never recover.”
Jason nodded his agreement, looking like a grim military general at war and not a child discussing his fathers attraction level.
Tim looked at both of them, laughed, and propped his feet up on the table, picking up his phone again, chuckling like a supervillain.
“Oh man. And y’all haven't even seen him in a dress yet.” 
um. so.. okay. Firstly, I'm so sorry for the long wait, I just uh have been really busy and unmotivated and yeah im so sorry 😭- secondly, this is not like, even close to what you asked... and i also apologize for that, but i figured better late than never? and its like... kind of in line with what you asked so... yay? anyway sorry and here and hope you like it even tho its not what you asked :)
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lvnleah · 12 hours ago
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blissful chaos | leah williamson.
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Morning Routines (Leah Williamson)
Leah groaned as the sunlight streamed through the gap in the curtains, the warmth of the duvet suddenly feeling too enticing to leave. Next to her, you were already awake, scrolling through your phone, one hand cradling a steaming mug of coffee.
“Morning, love,” you said, leaning down to kiss her forehead. Leah hummed, her voice still rough from sleep.
“Morning,” she mumbled, reaching for the tea in your hand.
You raised an eyebrow, pulling the mug just out of her reach. “Get your own.”
Leah pouted. “Sharing is caring.”
“You said that yesterday, and I didn’t get any tea back.”
Leah grinned sheepishly, sitting up. Her messy blonde hair was sticking up in all directions, and you couldn’t help but laugh. She stretched dramatically, her arms brushing against you before she flopped back onto the pillows.
“I’ll make it up to you,” she said.
“Oh, you will?” you teased, knowing full well that Leah’s version of ‘making it up’ often involved sneaking another sip of your tea when you weren’t looking.
She rolled out of bed with a groan, shuffling toward the kitchen. “You want some eggs?” she called over her shoulder.
“Only if you don’t burn them like last time!”
Leah laughed, the sound echoing through the flat. “That was one time!”
You followed a few minutes later to find her standing at the counter, waiting for the kettle to boil. The radio was on, and a familiar pop tune filled the room.
Leah couldn’t resist. She started to sway to the beat, mumbling the lyrics under her breath. When the chorus hit, she spun around, holding an invisible microphone and belting out the words dramatically.
You leaned against the doorframe, watching her with a grin. She caught your eye and pointed at you as if performing just for you. “Go on, join me!”
“Not a chance,” you laughed, stepping closer. “You’re doing great on your own.”
Leah twirled, completely in her element, her laughter echoing through the flat. As the song transitioned to another upbeat tune, you couldn’t resist any longer.
Slipping your arms around her waist from behind, you pulled her close. Leah startled slightly before relaxing into your embrace, her hands resting over yours. “Interrupting my performance, are we?” she teased, leaning back against you.
“Just trying to steal the spotlight,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck.
She hummed in contentment, her swaying now softer as the two of you moved together in time with the music. “You’re lucky I love you,” she murmured.
“And you’re lucky I love you, even with your questionable singing,” you teased, earning a playful elbow to your side.
“Oi! I’m brilliant!” Leah turned in your arms, grinning up at you. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have eggs to cook.”
“Oh no, not the eggs,” you teased, letting her go as she turned back to the stove.
“Watch and learn, babe,” Leah quipped, but as she started to hum again, you knew mornings with her would always be your favourite kind of chaos.
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mattsobvimyfav · 2 days ago
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neighbor (matthew sturniolo)
pt 9-
WARNING- SMUT
The next morning, sunlight streamed through the curtains, and I groaned, burying my face deeper into Matt’s chest to escape it. The faint sound of shouting from downstairs made my eyes flutter open, and I quickly realized the noise wasn’t part of some dream.
“Do you hear that?” I mumbled, my voice raspy from sleep.
Matt stirred beside me, his arm still draped over my waist. “Yeah…” he grumbled, rubbing his eyes. “What the hell is going on?”
The yelling got louder, followed by the sound of something clattering onto the floor.
We both sat up in unison, exchanging a look before scrambling out of bed. I slipped on a pair of shorts and pulled my hair into a messy bun, not bothering to make myself look remotely presentable as Matt tugged on a shirt. Together, we hurried downstairs, the chaos growing louder with each step.
When we reached the kitchen, the scene before us was… something. Charlie stood by the stove, trying to salvage a plate of scrambled eggs while Chris frantically waved a towel at Nick, who was hopping around and holding his arm. A streak of bacon grease was smeared across his shirt, and he was cursing loudly.
“What the hell is going on?” Matt demanded, his voice cutting through the chaos.
Nick turned to us, his expression caught somewhere between pain and disbelief. “Your brother,” he said, jabbing a finger at Chris, “is a menace! He spilled bacon grease on me!”
“It was an accident!” Chris shot back, still flailing the towel in Nick’s direction. “You shouldn’t have been standing so close!”
“Why were you even cooking bacon in the first place?” Matt asked, clearly trying to suppress a laugh.
Charlie turned around, holding up a plate piled high with pancakes and a sheepish grin on her face. “We were trying to make you guys breakfast,” she explained. “You know, as a congrats for finally getting along and not killing each other.”
I blinked at her, my heart melting a little despite the absolute disaster around us. “That’s… really sweet,” I said, stepping forward and taking the plate from her. “But also very chaotic.”
“It was going fine until he”—Nick pointed at Chris again—“decided to reenact some Gordon Ramsay move and flipped the pan too hard.”
Chris rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t trying to flip it hard, it just—”
“Can we focus on the fact that I’M IN PAIN?” Nick interrupted dramatically, holding out his arm for effect.
I handed the plate of pancakes to Matt and grabbed Nick’s wrist, inspecting the red mark where the grease had landed. “You’re fine,” I said with a smirk. “You’ll survive.”
Matt was already diving into the pancakes, grinning as he spoke. “Thanks for the breakfast. Totally worth the drama.”
Charlie beamed, looking proud of herself despite the mess. “You’re welcome.”
I glanced back at Chris, who was now trying to mop up the spilled grease on the floor, and couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay, but next time, maybe just stick to cereal. Deal?”
“Deal,” they all said in unison, Nick grumbling a bit louder than the rest.
Matt and I settled at the table as the rest of the group finished cleaning up. Despite the chaotic start, it felt like a perfect morning—messy, loud, and full of the people I cared about most.
After breakfast, Matt and I decided to retreat back upstairs. I was still full from the feast, and craving some quiet time. The moment we stepped into my room, Matt shut the door behind us and smirked, his eyes glinting with mischief.
“Finally,” he muttered, climbing onto the bed and hovering over me.
I barely had time to catch my breath before his lips were on my neck, trailing soft, slow kisses along the sensitive skin. A quiet moan escaped my lips, and I felt his smile against my skin. His hands slid under the hem of my shirt, teasingly grazing my waist as he kissed lower, sending shivers through my whole body.
Just as his lips reached my collarbone, the door burst open.
“Hey, have you seen my jean shorts?” Charlie asked casually, stepping inside without so much as a glance at us.
Matt groaned loudly, rolling off me and flopping onto his back. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he muttered, rubbing his hands down his face in frustration.
Completely unbothered by the tension in the room, Charlie rifled through a pile of clothes near my dresser. “They were here yesterday. I need them. We’re all going out, by the way, so Matt, you need to go home and get ready. We’re leaving in an hour.”
Matt shot me a look, his jaw tightening as he sat up. “Awesome,” he said dryly, pushing himself off the bed. He grabbed his shoes, muttering under his breath, “Perfect timing, as always.”
“Thanks, Charlie,” I said sarcastically as she left the room, holding up her shorts triumphantly.
“Oh, found them! - What?” she said, raising a brow. “It’s not my fault you two were in the middle of fucking.”
As the door shut behind her, I turned to Matt, who was now running a hand through his hair, clearly trying to calm down. “I’m gonna kill her,” I muttered, crossing my arms.
Matt leaned down, brushing a kiss to my forehead. “Save some of that anger for later,” he said with a wink. “I’ll see you in an hour.” Then, with one last glare toward the door Charlie had just exited, he walked out.
I flopped back onto the bed with a frustrated groan, already planning my revenge on Charlie for being the ultimate cock blocker.
After Matt left, I eventually pushed myself up, determined to focus on getting ready for the day.
First, I headed to the bathroom and turned on the shower, letting the room fill with steam. Stepping under the hot water, I felt the tension in my body start to melt away. I washed my hair with my favorite shampoo, the scent of vanilla and coconut filling the small space. After rinsing out the suds, I massaged the conditioner into my ends, leaving it to soak while I lathered up with body wash.
Once I stepped out of the shower, I wrapped myself in a plush towel and padded back to my room. Sitting at my vanity, I carefully went through my skincare routine. I cleansed, toned, and layered on moisturizer before gently dabbing under my eyes with cream. A quick spritz of hydrating mist finished the routine, leaving my skin glowing.
I brushed out my damp hair, deciding to leave it natural for the day. Slightly damp but drying quickly in the warm air. Satisfied, I moved to my closet to pick out an outfit.
After a few minutes of deliberation, I settled on a white flowing crop top with delicate ruffled edges. It tied at the front, leaving just enough skin exposed to feel sexy but still casual. I paired it with light-washed high-waisted loose jean shorts that hit right below my ass cheek, adding a touch of effortless style. For shoes, I opted for my high-top platform Converse, I wanted to look good for Matt.
I stood in front of the mirror for a final once-over. Grabbing my phone and a small crossbody bag, I headed downstairs, ready to see what they decided on doing today.
The doorbell rang, followed by the familiar chatter of voices, signaling the boys were here. I walked to the door and opened it to find Matt, Chris, and Nick standing there, all grinning like they were up to something. Matt’s eyes flicked to me, his eyes trailing my body as he took in my outfit.
“Hello Sweetheart,” he said, his voice low, but there was a warmth there that made my chest flutter.
“Let’s go fuck!,” I replied, whispering it in his ear.
“Cant-” He started but then was abruptly cut off.
Nick clapped his hands together as he looked around. “Alright, Y/N, here’s the deal. We’re filming a car video for the channel first. We are gonna drive around the streets of LA and do a Q&A, you know the drill. Then, we’ll decide what to do for the day and make it a vlog for everyone’s channels. We’ve been slacking on content, all of us.”
I raised an eyebrow. “A car video? Do I get to participate, or am I just sitting in the back awkwardly?”
“You’re in,” Chris said, slinging an arm around my shoulders. “You’ll be the wildcard. You always throw us off with your answers.”
I laughed, shrugging him off. “Fine.”
Nick turned to Matt. "Y/N get the front, and me, Chris, and Charlie will cram in the back."
I glanced at Matt, who smirked and shrugged. “Guess that’s settled, then.”
“You okay with that?” Chris asked, already heading toward the door.
“Yeah, fine by me,” I said, grabbing my phone and following them out. Matt gave me a little nudge on the way, his hand brushing against the small of my back.
We piled into Matt’s car, and true to Nick’s decree, I climbed into the front passenger seat while the other three squeezed into the back. Nick was already pulling out his camera to set up on the dashboard.
"Ok bitches," Nick said, angling the lens. “Matt, start driving. Y/N, you’re co-hosting this disaster with me.”
Matt chuckled, turning on the car. “You sure you want that? She might hijack the whole thing.”
"Exactly why she's co-hosting," Nick retorted.
As we pulled out of the driveway, Nick launched into his intro. “What’s up, everyone? We’re back with another car Q&A with questions from no other than you guys! But this time we are driving to a destination you will see in our next vlog, also we’ve got Y/N riding shotgun to keep Matt in check.”
“Not possible,” I joked, leaning back in my seat. “But I’ll do my best.”
“Alright, first fan question and I’ll ask Y/N, who’s more annoying when drunk, Matt or Chris?” Charlie asked, leaning over the seat to get in my face.
“Chris,” I answered without hesitation.
“Hey!” Chris protested.
“Sorry, but you’re like a toddler with unlimited energy,” I teased.
As the car Q&A began to heat up, the questions naturally shifted to some more personal topics. Nick, always the instigator, decided to dive into the juicier ones submitted by fans.
“Alright, this one’s for Charlie and Chris,” Nick announced, leaning forward from the very backseat of the minivan. “What’s your favorite thing about each other?”
Charlie blushed immediately, hiding her face behind her hands. “Why would you pick that one?”
“Because it’s adorable,” Nick replied. “Now, answer it.”
Chris didn’t miss a beat. “Her laugh. Hands down. It’s so fucking contagious and it makes me want to make her laugh all the time.”
“Aww,” everyone chorused, with Nick pretending to wipe a tear.
Charlie peeked up from her hands, still blushing. “Fine. My favorite thing about Chris is how he always knows when I need him. Like, no matter what’s going on, he’s always there, even when I don’t ask.”
The car erupted in more exaggerated "aww"s, with Matt rolling his eyes but smirking at the sweetness.
“Alright, moving on before we all throw up,” Nick teased. “This one’s for Matt and Y/N: What’s the best thing about spending time together?”
Matt’s hands tightened slightly on the steering wheel, but he stayed composed. “She makes everything more fun,” he said simply, glancing at me with a small smile.
I felt my cheeks heat up but managed to reply. “Matt’s... surprisingly thoughtful. Like, he pretends he’s all tough, but he’s got a big heart. He notices little things and makes you feel like you matter.”
The car went silent for a beat before Nick broke it with a loud, fake sniffle. “Look at you two, being all sweet. Love that for you.”
“Next question,” Matt grumbled, though his smirk gave him away.
Nick cleared his throat dramatically. “Okay, okay, serious question: Are you two actually dating, or is this just a fling?”
The air grew a little tense, but I laughed it off. “Who even submitted that? It’s none of their business.”
“True,” Nick agreed. “But for the record, you two act like an old married couple, so…”
Matt chuckled, shaking his head. “No comment.”
Chris leaned forward, chiming in. “Someone asked if Y/N only hangs out with Matt because he’s famous.”
The car fell silent for a moment, and I felt Matt tense beside me. “That’s stupid,” I said sharply. “I’ve known them since highschool… fame has nothing to do with it. Plus Charlie and I are pretty fucking famous ourselves, thank you very much.”
“Yeah, they are pretty fucking famous themselves!,” Matt added, his voice a pitch higher in mockery. 
The atmosphere lightened a little after that, but the questions kept rolling. Nick read another one, his grin widening. “Okay, back to the fun stuff: Charlie and Chris, who’s the better cook?”
The couple immediately started bickering, with Charlie insisting it was her and Chris arguing that his waffles were superior.
We wrapped up the video about thirty minutes later, filming enough content and answering enough questions for both our channels. 
“Oh shit,” Matt huffs. 
I turn my head over to him and hum in question. “Whats wrong?”
“We forgot to film an outro. Let me pull over and I can yell into the camera or something.” he sighs, flicking on his signal to turn into a small plaza parking lot. 
I nod, grabbing the camera from the dashboard and preparing it to film again when an idea hits me. 
“Hey, Matt?” I ask, playing with the settings on the camera. 
“Yeah, sweetheart?” 
“Remember how you used to kiss the camera goodbye at the end of videos?” I ask casually, clicking out the LCD screen and pressing record. 
“Yes?,” he ask confused as he puts the car in park and turns to look at me.
My grin widens as I lift the camera up, placing it on my forehead to face him almost as if it was a gopro. “Feeling nostalgic?” I giggle.
Matt laughs, looking between my lips and the camera before leaning in, one of his hands coming up to cup my cheek as our lips collide in a lighthearted and playful kiss. The both of us laugh into the kiss before Matt pulls back, looking directly into the camera then letting out a high pitched scream that left the lens foggy and humid. 
He brings his free hand up to the camera and presses the off button, gently grabbing it from my hands and putting it on the dashboard again. 
“How was that for nostalgic?” he whispers, face still close to mine. 
I laugh, pushing his forehead with my palm. “I’ve seen better,” 
“Oh really?” he gasps in faux offense. 
“Truly,” I nod sarcastically. 
“Yeah alright, sweetheart. We’ll see if you still think that later tonight.” he smirks, starting the car again and putting it back into drive. 
“Are yall done??” Nick butts in from the backseat but quickly interrupts himself with another thought. “You know what I could really go for right now? Some fucking bowling.”
“Bowling?” Matt asked, raising an eyebrow, pulling out of the parking lot and back onto the main road.
“Yep,” Nick confirmed. “Losers do something embarrassing. Y/N, you in?”
“Oh, I’m definitely in,” I said, grinning. “But you’re all going down.”
“Big talk for someone who barely knows the rules,” Matt teased, pulling back into the driveway.
“...I didn’t even know there were rules. That’s gonna be really embarrassing when you loose to someone who didn’t even know that much.” I shot back, earning a chuckle from him as we parked.
We all piled out of the car, the sun bright and warm as we joked and bickered our way into the bowling alley. I grabbed my camera from my bag, flipping it on to capture the camaraderie. “Alright, everyone, say hi to the vlog!” I said, pointing the lens toward the group.
Nick leaned in, throwing up a peace sign. “What’s up, Y/N and Charlie’s channel? Prepare to witness greatness.”
“You mean prepare to witness you eating my ass?” Chris chimed in, smirking.
Charlie elbowed him, giggling. “Oh, please. You’re all going down. Y/N and I are going to be a power duo.”
“Hey so Charlie , there aren’t any teams in bowling hope this helps.” I deadpan over to her as she looks at me without a single thought behind her eyes.
I turned the camera to Matt, who stood casually, arms crossed and a slight smirk on his face. “Got any words of wisdom for the vlog?” I asked as Matt opened the front door for me.
He leaned closer, his voice low and teasing. “Just make sure to capture my victory in 4K.”
“Oh, I will,” I shot back with a laugh, spinning the camera around to capture my triumphant grin.
We picked out shoes and debated over bowling balls, the smack talk already in full swing. “You know what they say,” Matt teased as he lined up his first shot, “Fuck bitches, get money, and go bowling.”
“Very funny,” I deadpanned, nudging him aside. “The only bitch you're gettin’ is bout to wipe the floor with your big ass cranium so step aside.” 
The game quickly turned competitive. Chris bowled a strike early on, and Charlie cheered so loudly the entire alley turned to look. “That’s my man!” she yelled, giving him an exaggerated high-five.
Nick, on the other hand, couldn’t stop laughing at his own gutter balls. “Maybe I should stick to bed rotting” he muttered after his third miss.
Matt was surprisingly good, earning strikes and spares with ease, but he wasn’t prepared for me. My first few rolls were mediocre at best, but by the halfway point, I’d found my groove. I bowled strike after strike, much to everyone’s shock—and my delight.
“You’ve been hustling us this whole time,” Matt accused, his eyes narrowing playfully.
“Maybe,” I said with a smirk, lining up my next shot. I rolled the ball down the lane and watched as all the pins clattered down. “Boom!” I spun around, throwing my arms up in victory. “What’s that? My balls in Matt’s mouth? Yeah that’s what I thought.”
Charlie laughed, leaning against Chris. “Yeah, clock that. We all know who wears the pants in that…” she pauses, looking between Matt and me multiple times before resuming. “Relationship?...” she cringes at the word.
 “Friendship!” she tries again, but grimices before giving up. “Fuck it. Only god knows what's going on between those whores…”
“Oh! okay!” I sang. “That's strike two! Not in bowling! You’re on thin ice!”
By the final frame, it was clear I was the winner. Matt groaned dramatically, rubbing his temples. “How is this fair? I was robbed.”
“Skill, my dear Matthew,” I said, patting his shoulder as I picked up the camera. “Let’s hear it for the champion!”
Chris clapped slowly, a grin tugging at his lips. “Alright, I’ll admit it—she earned it. Barely.”
“Barely?” I scoffed. “I crushed all of you.”
As we wrapped up and headed for the exit, Matt walked beside me, shaking his head. “I can’t believe you beat me.”
I glanced up at him, smiling. “You’ll live. Maybe next time you’ll step up your game.”
He chuckled, his hand brushing against mine. “We’ll see about that.”
Back in the car, I turned the camera back on, catching everyone’s tired but happy faces. “How does it feel to get your ass wiped by me?” I asked, spinning the camera toward Matt.
“Ha. Ha. Ha.” he looks at me with a straight face. 
Nick groaned from the back seat, leaning his head against the window. "Okay, okay. I lost. What’s my punishment?"
A wicked grin spread across my face as I turned the camera toward him. “Oh, don’t worry, Nick. We’ve got something special for you.”
“Be gentle,” he pleaded, his voice dripping with fake sorrow.
As soon as we got back to the house, we all piled inside, still buzzing from the night. I set the camera up on the kitchen counter, making sure it was angled perfectly to catch whatever ridiculous punishment we came up with.
Charlie clapped her hands together. “Alright, Nick. Since you came in dead last, your punishment is…” She paused for dramatic effect, looking at Chris. “Chris, what do you think?”
Chris smirked, clearly enjoying this a little too much. “I think Nick should have to walk through target in Y/N’s outfits.”
Nick’s face fell when Chris suggested he do his next punishment at Target. “Wait, you’re not serious,” he said, staring at me wide-eyed.
“Oh, I’m dead serious,” He replied, grinning. “You’ve got to wear the outfit I gave you all around Target. Just imagine the looks you'll get!”
Charlie, Me, and Matt were all snickering, clearly on board with the idea.
Nick’s eyes darted from one person to another, and his shoulders slumped in defeat. “Fine,” he muttered. “I’ll do it. But if I get kicked out of the store, I’m blaming all of you.”
Matt clapped him on the back, trying to suppress his laughter. “Hey, maybe a man twice your age with a mustache will think you look sexy.”
I grabbed my purse, and with everyone ready to go, we piled into the car. The entire ride to Target was filled with Nick grumbling about how he couldn’t believe he was about to make a fool of himself in public.
Once we arrived, we entered the store, with Nick wearing the bright pink skirt and crop top. His outfit drew stares from everyone, but he strutted confidently, as if he were walking the runway. People whispered and giggled, some even pointing, but Nick refused to back down. He just kept pushing forward, determined to complete the mission.
I pulled out my camera, filming everything. “Okay Rupaul Dragrace” I teased, capturing him on camera as he tried to act casual while pushing a cart through the aisles.
Nick shot me a look, his face flushed from embarrassment, but he held his head high. “You guys are so cruel.”
Charlie leaned into me, laughing so hard she nearly tripped over her own feet. “Bitch, this was your idea.”
We made our way through the aisles, stopping at random items just to make Nick pose awkwardly with them. He had to pick up random products and look like he was contemplating them seriously, which only made everything more ridiculous.
“Nick, can you try on the kid’s shoes? They’d go perfectly with your look,” Matt suggested, barely able to keep a straight face.
“Sure, why not?” Nick replied sarcastically. “It’s not like I’m already embarrassed enough.”
He shuffled over to the kids’ section, trying on the smallest pair of sneakers he could find and somehow managing to make it look like he belonged in them. It was absurd, and it was honestly one of the funniest things I’d ever seen.
I couldn’t stop laughing, holding my stomach as I filmed the whole thing. “You’re killing it, Nick. Keep going.”
We spent a good thirty minutes walking around the store, stopping for Nick to pose by random displays, and by the time we were ready to leave, he was still pretending to be unbothered, though we could all tell he was close to snapping.
“You’ve definitely earned your punishment points,” I said as we made our way to the checkout line, trying to stifle my giggles.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m definitely not losing again,” Nick grumbled, tossing his purchases onto the conveyor belt. “But next time, Y/N, I’m picking your punishment.”
“Deal,” I said, unable to stop laughing at the thought.
As we left the store, Nick walked out of Target like a true champ, still wearing the outfit like it was the most normal thing in the world. And even though he was clearly embarrassed, he managed to make it through the entire ordeal without turning into a total wreck.
“You’re a trooper, Nick,” I said, patting him on the back as we got back into the car. “You survived. You’re officially a legend.”
We pulled up to the triplets' house, the evening air cool and crisp as we got out of the car. Charlie and I exchanged a glance, a silent agreement passing between us before we turned to the guys. “Alright, you guys did enough today,” Charlie said with a grin. “We’re cooking dinner tonight. Italian, sound good?”
The triplets looked at each other, their eyes lighting up. “You guys are cooking?” Matt asked, raising an eyebrow. “This should be interesting.”
I smiled, nodding. “Yep, we’re taking over the kitchen. You’re all getting Italian tonight.”
The guys exchanged amused looks, clearly impressed but also a little wary of what we had planned. “Well, we’ll let you take the lead,” Nick said, giving a thumbs-up. “But if we’re eating burnt food, you’re on your own.”
With a laugh, Charlie and I headed inside, excited to work our magic in the kitchen while the guys settled in for the evening.
Charlie and I started preparing the Italian dinner. We decided to cook up some pasta, garlic bread, and a big salad. Charlie was chopping vegetables, while I was stirring the sauce on the stove, trying to perfect the flavor.
“Are you sure I’m not doing too much?” I asked, glancing at Charlie as she set the table.
She shook her head, grinning. “Nope. We’re doing this. It’s our turn to spoil them. Besides, they’ve been doing enough for us lately.”
I smiled, feeling a warmth spread through me. It felt nice, doing something for them. Once the food was ready, we set the table, and the guys came in, looking more than ready to eat.
Matt’s eyes lit up when he saw the pasta. “You guys seriously went all out. This looks amazing.”
“Don’t thank us just yet,” I said. “You have to eat it first.”
We all dug in, and I could see the satisfaction on everyone’s face as they took their first bites. Matt grabbed my hand across the table. “This is seriously the best thing I’ve eaten all week,” he said, his voice low but sincere.
Charlie was laughing as she reached for more garlic bread. “I told you we were good in the kitchen.”
We ate, joked, and laughed together, the room filled with a sense of ease. It felt like we were finally getting a bit of normalcy back after everything that had happened recently.
After dinner, we all sat around, chatting about everything and nothing. Nick, of course, had to make a joke about being the best chef, even though he had nothing to do with the cooking. It was nice to just be together, no drama, just friends and a good meal.
I felt a sense of peace in that moment, surrounded by laughter and warmth, knowing this was exactly where I wanted to be.
After the dinner, Matt gave me a quick tour of the triplets’ house since I’m the only one who’s never actually been there before. He started with Chris’s room, which was in the basement. It had this cool, cozy vibe—dim lighting, a comfy green couch, and walls lined with vintage posters. On his desk he had a little vanity mirror and small makeup bag with wipes for Charlie. Chris clearly liked his space, as it had everything he needed for unwinding after a long day.
We then headed upstairs, where Matt’s room was located. He gave me a playful grin as we walked down the hall. “This is my space,” he said, opening the door to reveal a room with dark colors, a huge king-size bed, and his desk with the streaming set up. I could tell it was Matt’s private sanctuary.
Next, Matt led me upstairs to Nick’s room, which was next to a loft area. Nick’s room was totally different from Matt’s—bright and energetic. The vibe in here was more playful, a perfect reflection of Nick’s personality. "Nick’s room is where all the tech magic happens," Matt joked, and I couldn’t help but smile at how different each of their rooms was.
Finally, we walked back downstairs into the living room and kitchen which I had gotten myself familiar with while cooking dinner. The living room was large and open, with a huge sectional couch and gaming consoles everywhere. The kitchen had modern appliances and an island with bar stools, where we could hang out whenever we wanted. "This is where we come to chill when we’re not annoying each other," Matt said, and I could tell he meant it.
After dinner and the tour, we all lounged around, enjoying each other’s company. The living room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the soft glow of the TV playing some random late-night show none of us were paying attention to. Charlie and Chris were curled up together on one end of the couch, her head resting on his chest while his arm lazily draped over her shoulders. Nick was passed out in the corner, snoring softly with a blanket half-draped over his legs.
And then there was Matt and me.
We were tangled together on the opposite end of the couch, his arm slung around my waist, pulling me snugly against his chest. My head rested on his shoulder, and I could feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing. His warmth, his scent—it was intoxicating.
The quiet murmur of the TV mixed with the occasional whispered laugh from Chris and Charlie, but my focus was entirely on Matt. He shifted slightly, his breath brushing against my ear as he leaned in closer.
“Are you ready?” he whispered, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down my spine.
“Ready for what?” I murmured back, my heart racing as his fingers lightly trailed down my side.
His lips barely grazed the shell of my ear as he spoke. “To let me take out all that anger I’ve been saving.”
I swallowed hard, heat pooling in my stomach at the weight of his words. My breath hitched when his hand tightened on my waist, pulling me even closer.
“Matt,” I whispered, my voice trembling with a mix of anticipation and nervousness.
He tilted his head slightly, just enough for me to catch the wicked smirk on his lips. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Not so sure of yourself now?”
I didn’t answer, my mind flashing back to earlier in the car— and what he said.
Matt shifted again, his lips brushing my ear as he whispered, “Let’s see if you still think there’s better.”
The challenge in his voice sent a spark through me, and I couldn’t stop the small gasp that escaped my lips. His fingers grazed my hip, his touch deliberate but teasing, just enough to make me crave more.
I turned my head slightly to meet his gaze, our faces so close I could feel the warmth of his breath. His eyes were dark, filled with an intensity that made my stomach flutter.
“Let’s go,” he murmured, his voice firm but quiet enough that the others wouldn’t hear.
I nodded, barely trusting myself to speak, and he stood up, pulling me with him. Chris and Charlie barely glanced our way, too wrapped up in their own little bubble, and Nick was still blissfully unconscious in the corner.
Matt’s hand slipped to the small of my back as he guided me down the hall, his touch searing through the thin fabric of my shirt. The door to his room clicked shut and locked behind us, and the air between us seemed to crackle with electricity.
He leaned against the door, his smirk returning as his eyes raked over me. “Still think you’ve seen better, sweetheart?”
I swallowed hard, my pulse pounding in my ears. “Maybe,” I said, my voice shaky but laced with challenge. “Why won’t you prove me wrong,”
He chuckled softly, pushing off the door and stepping closer. His smirk deepened as he closed the distance between us, his movements deliberate, like a predator closing in on its prey. My breath hitched as he stopped just inches away, his hands slipping into his pockets, casual but exuding that infuriating confidence.
“You’re sure you ready for that?” he asked, his voice low and rough, each word sending a shiver down my spine. His eyes never left mine, daring me to break first.
I tilted my chin up, trying to hold onto whatever shred of composure I had left. “It’s nothing I haven’t had before,” I said nonchalantly, shrugging.
Matt’s gaze darkened, his smirk softening into something more dangerous, more intoxicating. “I’m not the same guy I was four years ago, sweetheart,” he murmured, his hand lifting to gently tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. His touch lingered, fingers grazing my jaw before trailing down my neck.
“Good. His stroke game was weak. Maybe you’ll finally be able to make me cum now.” I shot back, my words bolder than I felt.
Matt’s eyes widened slightly at my boldness, but the shock melted into a dark, amused grin that made my knees feel like jelly. His hand stilled on my neck, his thumb tracing a deliberate, slow circle against my skin.
“That’s funny,” he said, his voice dropping to a rough, taunting whisper. “Because I remember you begging me to keep going. Said you couldn’t take any more, but there you were, falling apart under me anyway. Oh and how could I forget that giant mess you made all over our sheets that one time. Think I could make you do that again?”
My breath hitched, his words hitting like a physical blow to my pride and composure. He tilted his head, leaning closer, the smirk on his lips pure sin. “Sound familiar, sweetheart?”
I swallowed hard, refusing to back down, though my cheeks were burning. “Guess it’s easy to forget when it wasn’t exactly memorable.”
His grin widened, his other hand sliding to my waist and pulling me impossibly closer. “Oh, we’ll see about that,” he murmured, his lips grazing the corner of my mouth. “You’ve got a lot of smart things to say for someone who’s about to eat her words.”
I couldn’t stop the shiver that ran through me, his proximity, his touch, and that damn voice of his completely unraveling me. “Big talk for someone who might still disappoint,” I shot back, though my voice wasn’t nearly as steady as I wanted it to be.
He chuckled lowly, the sound vibrating against my chest. “You want me to prove you wrong?” he asked, his hand slipping lower, resting just on the curve of my hip. “Because once we start, sweetheart, I’m not stopping until I’ve made you forget every other man you’ve ever been with.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but the words died on my lips as his mouth brushed against mine—not a kiss, but a tease, a reminder of how close he was, how much control he had over the moment. His lips ghosted over mine again, his breath hot against my skin. “Tell me to stop,” he whispered, his tone daring me.
I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. Instead, I leaned in, closing the sliver of space between us and brushing my lips against his. It was all the confirmation he needed.
His grip on me tightened as he deepened the kiss, his lips firm but controlled, his movements deliberate and maddening. My fingers tangled in his shirt, pulling him closer, as if I could erase every inch of space between us.
When he pulled back just slightly, his lips still brushing against mine, he whispered, “That’s my girl.”
Without another word, he stepped back, his hand slipping into mine as he led me toward the bed. The tension was electric, the air between us thick with anticipation.
“Still think I’ve got something to prove?” he asked, his voice a soft, teasing growl as he 
He stopped just short of the edge, turning to face me, his hands sliding to my waist as he pulled me flush against him.
“Last chance,” he murmured, his voice a low, dangerous rasp. “Say the word, and I’ll stop.”
I looked up at him, my breath hitching as his eyes bore into mine, dark and intense. “I’m not stopping you,” I whispered, my voice trembling but resolute.
His lips twitched into that maddening smirk before he leaned down, capturing my mouth in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was demanding, all-consuming, his hands gripping my hips as he pulled me even closer. I gasped against his lips, and he used the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue sliding against mine in a way that made my knees buckle.
Matt’s hands roamed, exploring with purpose. One hand slid up my back, tangling in my hair, while the other gripped my waist, keeping me grounded as he kissed me like he was trying to claim every piece of me. His teeth grazed my bottom lip, and I couldn’t stop the soft moan that escaped me.
“Already making noises for me,” he murmured against my lips, his tone laced with smug satisfaction. “Guess I don’t have much to prove, after all.”
“Shut up,” I breathed, tugging at his shirt, desperate to feel more. He chuckled, the sound low and dangerous, before pulling back just enough to tug his shirt over his head.
My eyes traveled over him, taking in the hard planes of his inked chest, the lines that led lower, disappearing beneath the waistband of his jeans. He caught me looking and raised an eyebrow, his smirk growing. “Like what you see, sweetheart?”
I rolled my eyes, though my cheeks burned. “I’ve seen better,” I teased, throwing his own words back at him.
His grin turned predatory. “You’re gonna regret saying that,” he murmured, his voice dripping with promise. He moved forward, backing me up until my knees hit the edge of the bed. His hands slid to my thighs, guiding me down as he followed, his weight settling over me in a way that sent a thrill through my entire body.
His lips found mine again, the kiss deeper, hungrier this time. His hands explored, trailing over my sides, my hips, the curve of my waist. Every touch felt deliberate, calculated, like he was mapping me out, re-learning every inch of me.
I arched against him as his lips left mine, trailing down my jaw to the sensitive spot just below my ear. He lingered there, his teeth grazing my skin before his tongue soothed the bite. “Still think you’ve seen better?” he murmured, his voice rough against my skin.
“Matt,” I whispered, my voice shaky, pleading.
His lips curved into a smirk against my neck. “That’s what I thought.”
He didn’t rush, didn’t let me rush him. Every movement was slow, deliberate, as if he wanted to savor every moment, every reaction he pulled from me. His hands slid beneath my shirt, his fingers brushing against my bare skin, and I shivered under his touch.
“Let me hear you,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over my collarbone as his hands explored higher.
I couldn’t hold back the soft moan that escaped me, and he smiled against my skin, clearly satisfied. “Good girl.”
Matt’s hands slid higher under my shirt. He pulled back just enough to tug the fabric over my head, his eyes raking over me like I was the only thing that existed in the room.
“You’re so hot,” he murmured, his voice thick, almost reverent, as his fingers traced over my collarbone, down the curve of my waist, and settled on my hips. “Even better than I remembered.”
I couldn’t find words, couldn’t think straight with the way he was looking at me—like he was devouring me with his eyes, rememorizing every inch. He leaned down, his lips finding mine again, and the kiss was deeper, hungrier. His hands moved, gripping my hips again firmly as his weight pressed me into the mattress, grounding me and sending sparks shooting through my entire body.
“Matt,” I gasped against his lips, my voice trembling, and that was all the encouragement he needed.
His lips left mine, trailing a hot, deliberate path down my jaw to my neck, where he lingered, his teeth grazing over sensitive skin. I whimpered as he bit down gently, soothing the mark with his tongue before continuing lower. His lips danced over my collarbone, down to the curve of my chest, and I arched beneath him, my hands tangling in his hair as he worked his way down.
“Still think there’s better out there?” he asked, his voice low and rough, his breath hot against my skin.
I opened my mouth to respond, but all that came out was a soft moan as his hands gripped my waist, his thumbs pressing into the soft curve of my hips. His lips followed the path his hands had mapped, his touch firm but teasing, always just shy of where I wanted him most.
“Answer me, sweetheart,” he said, his tone dripping with smugness as he looked up at me, his smirk sending my heart into overdrive. “Because I don’t think you’ve got it in you to lie to me right now.”
“You’re infuriating,” I managed, my voice shaky but defiant.
“And yet,” he murmured, his hands sliding lower, his fingers brushing against the waistband of my shorts, “you can’t seem to get enough of me.”
“Prove it,” I challenged, though the trembling in my voice betrayed me.
Matt chuckled, a low, dangerous sound that sent heat pooling in my stomach. “Oh, I will,” he promised, his hands slipping beneath the fabric and pulling it down with agonizing slowness.
The cool air on my skin was a sharp contrast to his touch, and I shivered, my breath hitching as he leaned down again, his lips finding a new path across my hips. Every kiss, every touch was calculated, deliberate, like he was unraveling me piece by piece.
“You’re not ready for me,” he murmured against my skin, his voice low and teasing. “But don’t worry, sweetheart—I’ll take my time. You’ll forget everything else but me.”
Before he could even finish his sentence, his fingertips were on the buttons of my jean shorts, undoing them as if he had all the time in the world. His slender fingers unhooked them one at a time, his dead eyes looking up at me the entire time. 
“Lets get these off you, yeah?” he hums to himself as I raise my hips off the mattress slightly but enough for him to grab the hem of them and pull them down to my ankles— leaving me in nothing but my bra and underwear. 
As soon as my shorts hit the ground , his knees are quick to follow. He drops to the floor of the bed, grabbing my thighs with his hands and pulling me roughly to the edge.
I let out a quiet gasp of surprise as my body flew to the edge and i prop myself up on my elbows to look down at him. 
He looks up at me then drops his mouth to leg, his dead eyes heavy and half lidded. “Getting dejavu?” he says roughly against my inner thigh, placing soft kisses closer and closer to where I needed him.
I didn’t respond, I let my body do the talking when goosebumps rise across my thighs as his kisses travel closer and closer to my aching core. 
As soon as it looked like he was finally going to touch me, kiss me, do anything— he’d just trail his mouth back up towards my ankles that were resting over his shoulders.
“You’re such a fuckin’ tease, Matthew,” I whimper beneath him, at this point deperate for any sort of touch he was willing to give me.
“Let me make you feel good, baby” he hushes against my thigh, once more trailing his lips down to my clothed and untouched core.
Just as I was about to really start whining, i feel his fingers hook onto the waistband of my underwear, teasingly running his fingers acoss my lower abdomen. 
My body twitches at the slight touches, giving way to truly just how desperately and sickly I needed him. 
Matt licks his lips and runs his fingers across my skin one more time before finally reaching underneath and dragging them down my legs. It peeled off my core with a large string of arousal connecting my untouched cunt to my soaked panties.
“God,” Matt murmers under his breath, his gaze intense. I could feel him picking me apart with his eyes and it was causing a entire fire to ignite through my body. 
Before I could say anything, Matt removes a hand from my thigh and takes his pointer finger, spreading my folds. He groans outloud as he sees that I’m dripping in anticipation and clenching around air. 
I knew Matt wanted to eat me out, I mean, cmon. His nick name wasn’t “Matt the munch” for nothing. What I wasn’t expecting was for him to stand up, hook his fingers under your thighs again and flip you.
Within seconds your roles were reversed and Matt was sitting against the bed, head leaning back on the bed and looking up at the ceiling. And I was hovering on top of him, legs spread in a straddle, leaking cunt directly over his beautiful face. 
His hands come up and grab my hips, pushing me down with little to not force but enough to let me know what he wanted. 
I look down at him with hesitation and when our eyes meet, I nearly explode. His pupils were dilated so intently that there were almost no blue left. He licked his lips, eyes darting from my face to my core— waiting for my approval. 
And who am I to say no? 
The second Matt sensed me lowering onto his mouth, his hands tightened around my hips and pushed me onto his tongue with such force I had to grip the sheet to keep my balance. 
His tongue immediately found my clit and even after four years he remembered the exact rhythm that had me shaking. 
“Fuck Matt—” I moan, grabbing his hair and tugging lightly. 
The second his tongue left my clit and dove deep into me, I knew I was a goner and that I was not going to last long at all. 
It was almost embarrassing how quickly my body remembers everything about him— the curve of his nose that hit my clit just the right way every time i rocked my hips, the light scruff on his jaw that scratched against my thighs every time he’d move his mouth, the deep groans he’d let out that would vibrate through my body— everything. 
But the part that got me the most was the way he seemed to enjoy it just as much if not more than I did. 
I feel my juices leak down his chin, his tongue lapping up as much as he could, sucking on my folds, flicking my clit, and everything in between. 
He was eating me out not just like it was his last meal— no. he was eating me out as if he had never eaten anything before in his life. As if he had spent his life in purgatory and I was his first taste of freedom. 
As if it couldn’t get any better, his hands leave the deathlock they previously had on my thighs and when I opened my eyes to look down to see what he was doing, I nearly came there and then. 
Matt was so turned on from eating me out that he was fumbling with the belt buckle of his own pants, tugging them down to free his erection as if his life depended on it. 
At the sight of his strained cock spring out of his boxers, I couldn’t help but grind down extra hard on his mouth and tipping my head back, moaning out loud, not caring about how loud I am or that everyone was only a few hundred feet away in the room over. 
When I open my eyes again and look down, Matt had one fist around his cock, pumping up and down with immense speed. Before I had time to question where his other hand went, my questions were answered when I felt his pointer and middle finger sneak up next to his chin and prod against my entrance. 
My back arched as he slowly pushes one in and I pull on his hair so hard I feel his moan beneath me when he slips the second one in. 
“Fuck” I cry, begging to rock my hips against his hand, needing to feel something. “Please, Matt.”
Matt simply hums underneath me, still continuing to jerk himself off and eat me out. He slowly brings his fingers out and then pushes them back in, this time faster. 
“Oh fuck, keep going, please,” I beg, no longer caring enough about my pride. 
His fingers continue to pump in and out of me faster and faster. Even after four years he can tell when I was close based on how tightly I clamp down around him. 
“Fuck, right there!” I cry out, rocking harder and faster against his mouth and fingers, desperately chasing my high. 
He scissors his fingers inside me and my legs threaten to close. The way he applies just the right amount of pressure in just the right spot to makes my thighs begin to shake as I rapidly approach my orgasm.
I couldn’t respond, couldn’t do anything but hold onto him, my body trembling as his hands and tongue drove me closer to the edge of madness. He was in control, and he knew it, his every movement a reminder of just how much power he held over me.
“Matt,” I gasped, his name tumbling from my lips in a broken whisper, my fingers clutching desperately at his hair. My pulse thundered in my ears, the air thick and electric, every sense overwhelmed by him—his scent, his heat, the deep, dark tone of his voice as he murmured something I couldn’t even process.
He smirked against my skin, clearly satisfied by the way my body reacted to him, how every shiver, every soft sound I made, told him exactly what he needed to know. “That’s it,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, a command wrapped in velvet. “Let go for me.”
I was helpless against him, my body no longer mine as he pushed me further, higher, until I was teetering on the edge of something I couldn’t quite name. And then, with one final, deliberate move—his hand tightening, his lips pressing just right—it hit me like a tidal wave.
My entire body tensed, my breath catching in my throat as pleasure washed over me, sharp and overwhelming, crashing through me in waves that left me trembling, gasping for air. My fingers dug into his skin, my back arching as I gave in completely, every nerve alight, every thought replaced by the intensity of the moment.
I cry out, surly aleting not just the rest of the house but the entire fucking neighborhood at this point. “I’m cu— fuck — i’m cumin’, Matt”
“Thats it,” he murmured, his tone whiney and uneven and that's when I felt it— the way his body tensed under mine, his hands gripping my hips twice as tightly. I could feel his control slipping.
“Jesus, fuck ” he groaned against my core, his voice low and raw, like the sound was ripped from his chest. His mouth fell slack, his finger movements stuttering slightly as he buried his face deeper into my pussy.
The realization hit me as I felt the tremor run through him, his body shuddering against mine, his breath hot and uneven against me. He hadn’t even needed anything else—just me, just this. The way he’d completely unraveled me had been enough to push him over the edge too.
“Fuck, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice hoarse, like he couldn’t believe what had just happened. 
I was still trying to catch my breath, my body boneless on top of his face, but the warmth of his reaction sent a thrill through me. “Matt,” I murmured, my voice shaky but teasing. “Did you just—”
He slowly removed his hand from inside me, and brought it to his cock, jerking himself through the last bits of his orgasm with my cum coating his fingers. “You have no idea what you do to me, sweetheart,” he said, his voice rough but full of that maddening confidence.
I laughed weakly, leaning forward and resting my forehead against the mattress. “Guess I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Oh, it is,” he murmured. “Trust me.”
I collapsed on the bed in front of him, finally giving him space to breathe. He chuckled softly, standing up and climbing up on the bed with me, his arms wrapping around me as if to hold me steady.
Matt groaned softly, still holding me close as the aftermath of the moment settled between us. His fingers lazily traced circles on my back, his breathing finally slowing to match mine. 
“I hate to ruin this,” I murmured, my voice still slightly breathless, “but we should probably clean up.”
Matt chuckled, the sound low and rich as he kissed my forehead. “Yeah, we probably should. But I don’t know if I’m ready to let you go yet.”
I rolled my eyes, though a small smile tugged at my lips. “C’mon, Matt. You can hold me after we’re not sticking to each other.”
He groaned dramatically, finally sitting up and pulling me with him. “Fine. But only because I like you,” he teased, smirking as he picked up his shirt from the ground and offered it to me.
I slipped it on, the fabric hanging loose and smelling like him, and I couldn’t help but smile. “You’re just full of chivalry tonight.”
He raised an eyebrow as he grabbed a towel, tossing one to me with a playful smirk. “Don’t get used to it.”
We cleaned up quickly, despite neither of us really wanting to leave. Once we were both somewhat presentable, Matt ruffled his hair and grinned at me. “Ready to face the peanut gallery?”
“Not really,” I muttered, biting my lip. “But let’s get it over with.”
He laughed, slinging an arm around my shoulder as we walked back out to the living room. The scene was exactly as we’d left it—Nick still passed out in the corner, Chris lounging on the couch, and Charlie perched beside him, scrolling through her phone.
Except this time, Charlie’s head snapped up the moment she saw us, a wide, wicked grin spreading across her face. “Well, well, well,” she said, setting her phone down and crossing her arms. “Look who decided to join us.”
“Don’t start,” Matt warned, though the corners of his lips twitched.
Charlie ignored him, her gaze locking onto me. “Y/N, babe. Sweetheart. You okay? You were so loud, I was starting to think we’d need to send Chris in with a medic.”
My face went hot instantly, and I shoved Matt’s arm off my shoulder, glaring at her. “Charlie!”
“What?” she said, feigning innocence. “I’m just saying. Some of us were trying to watch TV, and all we could hear was—oh, Matt! Oh, my God! Right there!”
Chris burst out laughing, throwing an arm over her shoulder. “She’s not wrong.”
Matt smirked, clearly unbothered as he dropped onto the couch next to Nick. “Glad I could provide some entertainment.”
Charlie grinned, leaning forward and pointing at me. “And you, miss thing, need to hydrate after all that screaming. Go grab some water before you pass out.”
I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “I hate you.”
“No, you don’t,” Charlie said with a laugh, tossing me a water bottle. “You love me. And honestly? You’re welcome.”
“For what?” I muttered, sitting down and cracking open the bottle.
“For being the best wingwoman ever,” she said with a wink. “You’re welcome, Matt.”
Matt raised his water bottle in a mock toast. “Appreciate it, Charlie.”
Chris groaned, leaning back. “I’ve gotta start charging for putting up with all this. I swear.”
Charlie grinned, resting her head on his shoulder. “You love us.”
Chris sighed, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Unfortunately.”
I sipped my water, my embarrassment fading as the playful energy filled the room. Maybe being called out wasn’t so bad—especially when I was surrounded by the people I loved most.
tag-
@tbfaptbfae @ch0llies @2muchofaslvt @rockstarchr1s @simply-a-simper @mattscore @watercolorskyy @urfungi @sturnsvelocity @mattsturnii @christmastreecake @izzylovesmatt @larnieboox88 @christophersstar @realuvrrr @namelesssav @matts-girlfriend
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bleedingichorhearts · 1 day ago
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𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬:
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𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗: This was inspired by a chat between me & a fellow requester @originalgothhoagiefish-blog. My tumbler master list looks like a mess, but I'm trying to get placement right.
𝕾𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: What happens when you bite your god-like mosquito back during heated times?
𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖉: @kit-williams, @egrets-not-regrets, @bispecsual, @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan, @sleepyfan-blog.
+@c-u-c-koo-4-40k.
TW // Smut, Clothed, Bulge, Biting.
|°ᴛᴀɢ ʟɪꜱᴛ ᴀᴘᴘʟɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ°| |°ɪᴄʜᴏʀ’ꜱ ᴀᴏ3°| |°𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥°|
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Your angel was hungry, you can see it in his eyes; the way his angelic wings give a minuscule twitch. How his eyes keep glancing at you, wishing for a bite, and if he was lucky enough… something more. He cannot act on his needs at the moment: he’s caught up in some planetary business that he (and the whole legion) has chosen to leave you out of, but you could. You could sedate him for a bit. Give him something to drink.
“We need—” You move just a bit, gaining the attention of some of the blood angels that guard you, and well… the attention of your spouse. You know you’re causing some type of interruption with your presence just standing there, wanting to at least get to wander about. You get some looks for it: from the opposing planet, but you are undeterred. You trust your lovely legion of mosquitoes to bleed them dry if needed.
You move again and gain a bit more than just looks. You can feel the heat of jealousy burn into your skin, trying to get to your singular heart while you make your way out of the room without being dismissed. You’re sure you would get some snarky remarks about it, but they were in your lovers' domain, not their own. They should know how to act considering they were all mostly nobles.
“My Lady,” One of your sons interrupt you, following you out of the room. Leaving his other brother to observe. His steps heavy but light at the same time with his armor on. “Where are you going?”
“Your father is hungry.” You simply point out what you have seen; singled out and have a very good feeling having understanding on. “So are you.”
“I am not.” The son denies, shaking his helmet. You don’t have to look behind you to know that he was. You, however, were no commoner to your lovers’ needs, nor to his legion. You were here long enough to understand their... cues of peculiar hunger.
“Do not deny the truth Son of The Angel.” You muse, giving him a glance behind you. It was amusing how some of them still act a bit childish and refuse things. One would think the children of the stars would be much more… stoic; formal perhaps. Yet they have their moments when they reminded you of complete children.
“I do not deny, my lady.” He huffs, and it’s just amuses you even more. He was— is food angry. “I’m simply… irritated.”
“Irritated.” You repeat his word with a hum. He didn’t want to act nor admit he was hungry, just like his father. They always get a bit grumpy without something to feed them. “Then perhaps you wouldn’t be swayed with my offered blood?”
You’re quick with it, taking your defense dagger from your waist and slicing the palm of your hand of it before turning around on your heel and presenting your now bleeding palm to the son. Your hand in a slight cupped formation to keep your own blood from wasting to the ground.
“My lady…”
“Do not refuse what is generously offered, it is rude.” You are also quick on your tongue, interrupting the loyal son. Your bloody hand moving a bit as if to urge them to drink from your lifeline that slowly pours from your hand and down your arm.
“I… your blood should only be offered to our father…” He tries to deny you again, but he’s lured in. He’s leaning in closer to your offered hand. He can’t resist his hunger to feed like most others could. He is a younger Astartes, but you don't blame him for it.
“Hmm, perhaps.” You hum, feeling how your own blood pools in your hand, slowly slipping through your fingers. “But I’m offering you. Do not deny it.”
He sighs at you: a heavy one. His gauntlet coming up to his helmet and taking it off himself. A beautiful shade of dark green appearing as his eyes then the bright blonde as his wavy hair: the length of it is to his shoulder blades or rather pauldron. A few scars littering his face, but he still had those young, youthful features. (Not like the whole legion didn’t.)
“You, are as handsome as your father.” You complement the hesitant Blood Angel. He probably doesn’t want to drink from you because of your status. Doesn’t want to drink what is his Primarchs, and you can't really blame him on that either. You wouldn't want to eat the alphas food either.
However, your husband can make an exception.
"Are you sure my lady?" He asks for your word, your permission. His gauntlet coming forward to grasp at your hand. Stabilizing it for him to drink. It's a cute, small step forward for the young one to resist temptations. "I don't want to be... punished for it."
Oh, how adorable the sons were. Allways asking for permission. Well, almost always. You've heard how they weren't merciful sometimes, and you suppose it's a hard truth to learn of them, or easy. Depending on the person.
"Would you be punished if I was simply offering?" You ask him, moving your fingers a bit as the blood goes down onto his gauntlet. His eyes never leaving your crimson stained hand. "I am giving it to you freely."
"I... suppose not." He sighs, finally leaning a bit down to give your hand and inhale. His tongue liking at his lips before he gives in. The heat of his appendage giving a long lick to your palm. His tongue curling, acting like some sort of spoon to get more blood piled up in his mouth. His fangs barely brushing over the skin of your palm.
It was almost strange. To feel the differences between son and father. At least tongue wise as this sons' tongue was like a cats', yet it's a bit smoother. Sanguinius? His was smooth but had more heat to it. You guess it's because he most drank from you when he was really needy...
After a moment, he releases your wrist as gently as possible. His tongue swirling in his mouth as he moves his hand to cover his lips as if this would require some form of adequate. His eyes looking away from you with a slight blush to his cheeks. "I can see why father chosen you as the legion mother..."
You smile at him, amused and knowing. You know your blood attracts some mosquitoes more than most. Your hand returning back to your side. He has cleaned your hand quite well...
"Hmm, then I suppose you would not mind deliver something to your father; offer for an offer?" You ask the son, pressing on your wounded palm slightly. Watching a bit more blood leaving the slit.
"Of course, it's only reasonable my lady."
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You're back in Sanguinius quarters but the time your... package has been sent to him. Your hands are busy wrapping up your own hand that you injured for the sake of feeding the Sons of The Angel. A small, humming tune leaving you as you tend to the wound.
You wonder if Sanguinius would like your small, editable gift? It was in small quantities, but you wanted your husband to be enriched and not be bored of the nobles that are no doubt talking nonsense, because you know in experience, they like to talk in laughing wealth... or at least those ones do. They never like to do dealings with you... which may lead to their downfall.
You jump a bit when the doors of Sanguinius quarters open. Your eyes giving a brief glance outside. You would have thought he wouldn't have arrived back until dusk, but you suppose not all comes to plan.
"My love, you didn't have to enlighten me with your own blood." Is the first thing that leaves Sanguinius mouth. His clothed form briskly walking to your side, as if he was impatient. His wings fluttering behind him. His eyes staying on you once they land on you: sitting down and wrapping up your hand.
Oh, yeah, he is definitely impatient.
"Oh? So, you knew it was my blood?" You muse, returning to wrapping up your palm. A little embarrassed to look at him now. How could you? You might have just done something brave, but incredibly stupid. Might of. You're not too sure. Would he scold you for it?
"How could I not?" He inhales. His lips suddenly close to your neck and it makes your heart pulse. His hands moving anything from shoulder from obstructing what he wants. "Your blood is my addiction; my own life as it is the legions..."
His chest is pressed up behind you as he leans down to cover you in his shadow. His own hand slowly coming do to grasp at your wrist with the bandages around it. The huge, obvious size difference was always remarkable to you.
"You fed the sons as you fed me." He hums, his lips pressing into your neck and you can't help but give him more access. Your body leaning back into him. "Generous of you, even if we didn't need it."
"Oh, please." You scoff, amused. Flipping your wrapped hand in his, tracing your fingers in his palm. "You were hungry."
"And I," He pauses, musing with you. Kissing you on the cheek as his arms wrap around you. His nose nuzzling into your neck, inhaling again before he suddenly lifts you up from the chair. A surprised yelp of his name falling through your lips as you squirm in his hold. "Still am."
"Sanguinus!" You gasp his name again, your body plopping down into the soft sheets of his bed with him directly on top of you. His hands wrapping around your waist with unnatural ease. Silently telling you just how much he could just take you; ragdoll you as his lips attack your neck. No doubt enjoying how your veins pluses a bit quicker when he excites you; teases you.
"You had no need to feed me when I can have you here; fully." He chuckles into your neck, sending a bit of a vibrations through you at the closeness. His wings behind him spreading out, covering you in his shadow, his scent, him. His hands on your waist keeping you in place for him to enjoy what is beneath him.
"Did... did you like what I have given you?" You ask a bit hesitantly, moving your own hands to his body. Your fingers tracing every outline you can find on the top half of his torso. You were afraid you might get some form of judgment from him.
"I wanted to leave the room once my tongue touched the thickness of your blood in that glass." He groans quietly, inhaling deeply again. His body shifting a bit above you while one of his hands wander just a bit lower... "I truly wonder if you were teasing me."
"Me? Never." You purr slightly out to him, enjoying his wandering his hands. You didn't want to make it sound like you were teasing him, and you weren't, it wasn't intended, but you wouldn't be opposed to be testing a Primarchs' limits in different ways besides the intensity of chaos.
"Oh, really?" He rumbles amusingly, his eyes trailing over your face. His mouth hanging open to slide his fangs over your neck, teasing you. Your body giving a shiver at the feeling as you really didn't know when he would bite you. He liked to be a bit mysterious on it.
"Really." You simply confirm, sliding one of your fingers under the waist band of his clothing, touching the bare skin of him at his v-line. His fangs, and a huff of his hot breath warning you by your neck, confining with you.
He was losing his patience ever slowly with you.
"Then I don't believe you are teasing me now, are you?" He hums, switching to give your neck a kiss again. His eyes hooded in a tired lure while his waist thrusts forward a little, urging your hands to go further down his waist. Teasing the both of you as your fingernails gently claw above where the both of you want.
"Certainly n-not- Sanguinus!"
He laughs lowly at your yelp as he gave a nip to your collar bone, drawing a very small amount of blood to taste you once more. He wants to savor the source of his food, his drink. He want's your fulfilling warmth of your blood, of you. He wants you.
His fangs trace your neck, slowly feeling how your skin twitches and pluses underneath his lips as he occasionally giving you kisses, prepping you for him to feast. One of his hands shifting to move yours a bit lower on him. Where you can feel the thickness of him and his heat. A low grunt leaving him while he has to restrain himself from about wreaking you for the next weeks to come. That is, if he doesn't drink you to exhaustion first.
Your hands grasp at him, slowly teasing him, pumping him up and down. It should have been impossible for you to do so because of his height but with the way he practically curls around you for your touch, it was not, and sometimes? You curse at yourself for your smaller height, feeling bad for your lover having to curl around you for the simplicity of intimacy, but oh... It makes things feel deliciously bigger; thicker.
You shutter a gasp when his fangs slowly pierce your skin. Hands grasping his length a bit harder while you try accommodate to the slight pain that stings you. Your nose slightly nuzzling into his jawline as you feel him drink from you. A little, satisfied hum leaving him as he swallows, even gracefully in these heated times. His waist thrusting slightly as his length in your hands moves for you.
"Sanguinus..." You sigh into him, your mind filled with unholy thoughts of him. How he would- will take you. How he would leave you weak and submissive for him to use to his pleasure. How his cock would fill you with overwhelming efficiency, touching all the sweet spots only he knows about.
He hums at you, louder to acknowledge your wants. His body shifting above you while he still drinks from you. Position himself to where you wanted him. Your hands helping him find his mark, just above your core. You're still clothed, but that's what the zippers and openings on the bottom's of the dresses are for. For your lover to fuck you good all while trying to keep up a professional and neat image.
Your body shutters while you lead him inside of you. Bursts of shorts breaths leaving you as you can feel his length slowly fill you. A slight bulge appearing on your skin where he sits himself inside your walls. Moans leaving the both of you when your walls tighten around him, and you can't but help to think of biting your lover back. It sounds appealing to you in your mind. Your body curling more into him, getting closer to him as he moves with you to continually feed on you.
His gives a small, testing thrust inside of you. Exciting another gasp from you while you move closer to his shoulder, your breath painting his own clothing. Your hands moving to grasp at his shoulders as he always felt a bit overwhelming when he was inside of you at first. You were still trying to accommodate him, but each growing second grew more pleasurable.
A whiny-like moan leaves you when he thrusts again. Hands desperately grasping at him now as the combined efforts of giving you pleasure and drinking from you was a pleasurable overkill for your sensitive nerves. Your own teeth brushing over his neck, and you can tell he froze for a second; pausing his drinking but keeping his fangs fit into your neck.
That, is when you gently bite into him yourself. Your teeth latching onto him gently on his collar bone: voided of his clothing. You bit him gently enough that wouldn't cause a mark, even if you knew how hard you had to bite him for anything to be done to him, it wouldn't cause anything to him, but in heated times? It was like activating his carnality card.
He is quick to move, unlatching from your neck and giving it a reassuring lick before he's hovering above you again. His hands settling on your thighs, giving you slow, rolling thrusts that were repetitive. It has you arching your back into the sheets with your hands grasping at his on your thighs. Mewls leaving you as he ever slowly goes faster and faster. Loosing himself: losing his resolve with you. Quiet grunts and growls leaving him while he keeps readjusting his hands on your thighs to your waist to keep you in place on his cock. His wings behind him moving and fluttering with his rabid thrusts.
Perhaps, you should bite him a bit more often? Maybe offer some surprising drinks of your blood too? It was certainly an experience, and a chance for you to be bedridden for a couple of weeks.
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orangeblossomsintheair · 10 hours ago
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Got anymore dad thoughts for any cod characters? Would love to see something with Price (the man was meant to be a father)
BECAUSE I LOVE YOU | JOHN PRICE
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an : ur so right anon he was absolutely meant to be a dad i love him sm. this is pre-dad john more than anything.. 😔
“Have you been pregnant before?” you ask suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence in the room.
John pauses, hands still wrapped around your foot, his thumbs mid-press into a spot that’s been aching all day.
He lifts his head, eyes narrowing at you. “Come again?”
“You heard me.”
He exhales, shaking his head in disbelief as his hands resume their firm, steady motion. “Sweetheart, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but biologically speaking, I’m not exactly built for that kind of thing.”
You squint at him, undeterred. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Well, then what the hell did you mean?” His tone is gruff, but there’s a hint of amusement under the surface.
He always has that undercurrent with you. A softness he tries to disguise with his bark.
“You know.”
“No, I don’t,” he counters, glancing up at you briefly before turning his attention back to your foot. “But I’m dying to find out.”
“You always know what I need,” you accuse, pointing a finger at him.
“Like this.” You wiggle your toes for emphasis. “You knew I needed a foot massage before I even said anything. How do you do that?”
He chuckles under his breath, shaking his head. “You’ve been limping around all day and groaning every time you sit down. Wasn’t exactly a tough call.”
You cross your arms, refusing to let him brush it off. “It’s not just this. It’s everything. You always know what I’m craving, or when I’m upset, or when I’m about to cry, even when I’m trying to hide it. It’s weird.”
“Weird,” he repeats, his tone dry. “So I’m weird because I pay attention to you?”
“Yes!” you exclaim, throwing your hands up. “Exactly! How do you always know?”
John lets out a slow breath, sitting back a little as his hands leave your foot. “Because I love you.”
The way he says it, calm, steady, like it’s the simplest truth in the world, makes your heart stutter.
“That’s not an answer,” you say, your voice quieter now.
“Yes, it is,” John says, his gaze steady, unreadable, but something softer lingers in the corners of his eyes. His hands never stop working over your foot, kneading away the ache with practiced care. “I just… know, alright?”
“Know what?” you prod, narrowing your eyes at him.
He doesn’t answer right away, his jaw tightening like he’s weighing the words in his head. Finally, he mutters, “How you are.”
“That’s vague,” you counter, lips quirking.
He sighs, shaking his head. “I know because I pay attention . Like how you always chew on your lip when you’re thinking too hard. Or how your hands shake when you’re upset, even if you’re smiling. I know the difference between your happy sighs and your tired sighs. I know the exact moment you’re about to ask me to grab you a snack but you’re too stubborn to say it out loud. I know because I’ve made it my business to know.”
You blink, caught off guard by the quiet certainty in his tone. “That’s… weirdly sweet.”
His brows pull together, and he huffs a short laugh, like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Weirdly sweet? Is that what we’re calling it now?”
“Well, yeah.” You grin, sensing his discomfort and leaning into it. “I mean, you’re supposed to be this big, gruff guy, right? You bark orders, fix broken things, intimidate anyone who looks at me wrong-”
“I don’t bark,” he interrupts, giving you a pointed look.
“Oh, you bark,” you tease, deepening your voice in a poor imitation of his. “‘Yes, ma’am. No, ma’am. Let me carry that for you, ma’am.’”
The corner of his mouth twitches, but he just shakes his head and resumes working on your foot. “That’s the worst impression I’ve ever heard.”
“Rude,” you shoot back.
“Honest,” he counters. His thumb presses into a particularly tight spot, and you let out a sound that’s somewhere between a groan and a sigh.
“You’re dodging,” you accuse, narrowing your eyes at him again.
“I’m not dodging. I’m sitting here rubbing your feet after a long day, and this is the thanks I get? You calling me weird and making fun of my voice?”
“Oh, so you’re playing the martyr now?”
“If the shoe fits,” he mutters, smirking when you swat at his arm.
You glance down at him, trying to hide the way his words make you feel all soft and warm inside.
“Okay, sorry. I didn't mean to make fun of yoy. You make it sound so.. simple.”
“Because it is,” he says matter-of-factly.
He doesn’t say anything for a long moment, just keeps his hands moving, his touch firm and grounding. He's silent in that way that tells you he's thinking so you let him stew.
When he finally speaks, his voice is softer, almost like he’s talking to himself. “I’m supposed to notice. That’s the whole point, isn’t it?”
You tilt your head, watching him. “What do you mean?”
“I mean…” He hesitates, his hands stilling briefly. Then he looks up, meeting your eyes with that quiet intensity of his. “If I don’t notice, who will?”
Your breath catches, and for once, you don’t have a snarky comeback.
He smirks, like he knows he’s thrown you off balance. “What? No smart remark?”
“You’re infuriating,” you mutter, but there’s no heat behind it.
“And you’re a pain in my ass,” he shoots back, but his hand brushes over your ankle in a gesture so gentle it makes your chest ache.
“Admit it,” you say softly, the words more of a dare than a request. “You love me.”
His smirk fades, replaced by something quieter, something real. “You already know the answer to that.”
“Say it anyway,” you whisper, your voice catching.
He leans forward, his hand cradling your foot, his gaze steady and unflinching. “I love you,” he says, his voice low and rough around the edges. “Even when you’re being impossible.”
You smile, blinking back the sting in your eyes. “Damn it, John.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He squeezes your foot one last time before setting it down and shifting closer, his hand moving to the back of your neck, pulling you in. “Come here, you sap.”
And when his lips press against yours, it’s not rough or hurried, it’s steady, grounding, and full of all the things he doesn’t say out loud.
You laugh, breaking from the kisss, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re perfect,” he counters without hesitation.
You roll your eyes, but you can’t stop the smile that spreads across your face. “Shut up.”
“Make me,” he challenges, and before you can come up with a retort, he leans in, pressing a kiss to your forehead, then your cheek.
When he pulls back, his expression is softer than you’ve ever seen it. “You’re everything to me,” he says quietly, and the weight of his words settles over you like a blanket, warm and comforting.
“Damn it, John,” you whisper, your voice thick. “You’re going to make me cry.”
“Don’t cry,” he says, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “You’ll just give yourself a headache, and then I’ll have to deal with that too.”
You laugh through the tears threatening to spill, leaning into his touch. “You’re the worst.”
“And yet, here you are,” he says, his lips quirking into a small smile.
“Here I am,” you agree, and for once, you don’t feel the need to say anything else.
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startaegi · 20 hours ago
Text
ON THE RUN, cho hyunju. 【 CHAPTER 02 】
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⤑ pairing, cho hyunju x fem!reader
⤑ synopsis, where secret-not so secret lovers, hyunju and yn find each other in the unlikely of places.
⤑ series masterlist, on the run.
⤑ chapter three, coming soon!
⤑ notes, i’ve never written in this point of view before, i usually always write in a third person pov so please excuse how bad this is, i’m still learning 😓
⤑ taglist, @etta-huracan @littlegirlmin @mysatnin @taemin93 @ryoiii @sann1e @alexisabirdie @maiznamai @marsyay78 @learninglinesintherainn @noxitsnox @relaps3 @dbj444 @kiss-es (if you would like to be added let me know)
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The bedsheets are scratchy against your legs. Your bare feet tangled in the ends keeping in the warmth. The lamp to your right lit up a small part of the room, just enough for your eyes to focus on the book in your hands. You couldn't afford a television or laptop, anything that could give you any form of entertainment but books came cheap, sometimes free and you quite enjoyed loosing yourself within the pages.
The door clicking open pulled you from the magical world in your lap. Hyunju entered the apartment, her coat flaked white with snow as was her hair. She looked at you with a bright smile, eyes crinkling in the corners. "Hi baby" She smiled in your direction, setting the small paper bag on the kitchen counter.
You instantly shut the page in your book, focused on nothing but her. She somehow looked more beautiful than when she left, not that it was possible because she looked beautiful every day. Her bangs where brushed to the side, most likely from the wind and the little bows you had added to her hair that morning - that she finally felt brave enough to wear in public, you almost cried tears of joy, had become loose.
"You look pretty" You said, eyes following her every movement. She reached for the bag, hands stopping mid air. You caught a faint blush making its way onto her cheeks before she turned away from you.
She refused to turn back, quickly going to what she was doing before. "I look the same as always" She replied, a little embarrassed.
This happened often you had begun to notice. Hyunju never accepted a compliment, she always found a way to brush it off or to turn it on you. She was pretty but you were prettier. Her outfit went together well but yours fit you better. It was a learning game, one you knew you couldn't rush. In time she'd learn to love herself as you did but in the mean time you'd be there to remind her.
"And you always look pretty" You assured her.
Hyunju doesn't reply but you can see a small smile forming on her face, aswell as the tips of her ears turning red. She shrugged off her jacket, hanging it with yours on the dainty clothing rack.
Her eyes shined when she turned to face you, fingers clutching the little brown bag she'd arrived home with. "I bought strawberries" She beamed. "I thought we deserved a treat" She took a seat next to you, placing the punnet of fruit between you both.
You giggled at her excitement, taking one of her cold hands in yours and pressing your lips against her palm. "I missed you" You said softly, tilting your head up at her. She was already looking at you, the same silly smile on her face. Your cheeks burned at her stare.
"Hmm" Hyunju hummed, reaching down for you. "I missed you too" She pressed her lips against yours, they were cold and cracked from the December air but you smiled into it nonetheless.
"Let's eat" She said against your lips, pecking them once more. "You can tell me about your book"
You didn't waste any time in pulling back, one hand reaching for the strawberries and the other your book. You flipped to the last page you had updated her on, strawberry half in your mouth. She laughed softly beside you, cupping her hand under your chin to stop any juice from spilling onto the pages.
Your eyes reluctantly opened, the brightness of the room stinging them. You'd been dreaming of her again, this time a memory from one of the first winters you'd spent together. Your mind felt foggy, all of the days suddenly muddling together. A raging headache was slowly forming in the base of your skull, a heavy thudding pulsating against your head. You lifted a hand to touch the area only to realise your entire body felt the same, as if someone had weighed you down with a ton of bricks.
You sat up slowly, dazed and confused as to where you'd ended up. Your eyes widened in surprise, only now noticing the green sleeves on your arms you hadn't been wearing before. You hurriedly kicked away the thin blanket, a puff of air escaping your lips at the green pants on your legs. Someone had changed you from the jeans and coat you'd been wearing. You frantically scan the room, mouth falling open. Countless people were gathering in the centre, all in matching outfits. The beds were one too many, piled high on top of one another. You shook your head in disbelief, of course it was too good to be true, you'd practically led yourself right into the kidnappers arms.
The doors pulled open jolting you backwards. You took a long shuddering breath, bravely pulling yourself from the bed and to the crowd. The same masked guard who had taken you from Hangang Bridge was there but now there was 8 more of him. You noticed the different shapes on their masks, mind swimming in confusion. What had you gotten yourself into?
"I would like to extend a hearty welcome to all of you" The masked man called. This one with a square printed to the front. "Everyone here will participate in six different games over six days, those who win all six games receive a handsome cash prize"
You don't have a moment to think, not when her voice is calling out from across the room. "Excuse me?" She asked. Your heart beats against your rib cage threatening to break free. She was here. She was okay. She was alive. But she was here? Of course she was. Your mind is scrambled, a million emotions passing through. "You said i'd be playing games, but you practically kidnapped me, so how can I believe that?" She called out again, you hear everyone murmuring in agreement.
You follow their line of eyesight, in search for her but too many people block your view. You need to get to her, the game now forgotten, you just have to see her face. You don't hear or see anything going on around you, only focused on the fact Cho Hyunju, the same girl who has ignored you for weeks was here in the same room as you.
You're lost in your thoughts when a girl steps into your path, touching your arm lightly. "Are you okay?" She hesitantly asked, an anxious smile on her face.
"Oh, uh-" You stuttered.
She takes your arm gently, sitting you on the bed. "You don't look okay" She keeps a soft grip on your arms. "Do you think you're going to faint?" She questioned.
You shake your head. "No, i'm okay" You replied, meeting her eyes. "I get these headaches sometimes, just the stress of everything going on I think" You awkwardly laughed, brushing her off.
She looked you over, not fully believing a word you'd said. "Let's just stay here for now" She smiled, taking a seat beside you. "I get the same way so I understand"
You raised your head at that, fully facing her. "You do?" You asked.
She doesn't open her mouth to reply instead her eyes land on her stomach. Only then do you notice the obvious bump she hadn't done well in covering. You let out a gasp, looking from her stomach to her face. She giggled softly, caressing her swollen stomach.
You don't get the chance to reply as the unknown girls attention focuses on someone else. A boy in the crowd currently shouting at the masked guards. You only see the back of his head from where you're sat, countless others surrounding him. His voice is loud and clear. "Do you know how much i've invested?"
"Player 333, Lee Myunggi" The square masked guard replied.
The screen above the doorway changes from the number of people in the room to a scene you notice all too well. A train station, ddakji and too many hits to the face.
"Age 30, used to run a Youtube channel called MG Coin. After convincing subscribers to invest in a new crypto coin called Dalmatian, causing losses of approximately 15.2 billion won, you shut down and disappear"
Your eyes widen at the number. Your debt seemed silly in comparison.
The guard continued. "You're wanted for fraud and for violating telecom and financial investment laws." They paused. "Current debt levels, 1.8 billion won"
You hold in a breath as the screen changes, you hope not to see your own face. The embarrassment of your debts was already enough for you to face never mind a room full of people, no matter if they're in the same situation or not.
It changes once again and you see an all too familiar face. You recognise the day it happened because she's in a shirt you'd picked for her. It was the same day she'd left you the goodbye message. All the missing pieces were starting to fall into place.
"Player 120, Cho Hyunju, 330 million won in debt"
Taking a deep breath you sit up straight, hands reaching for the necklace around your neck. She was wearing the same one on the screen. Your first couples item.
The next half hour passed in the blink of an eye, you don't register anything, your mind is still focused only on one thing. You know you should be listening, you can tell from the reactions of the crowd you're missing out on important information but your brain doesn't allow you to concentrate.
You blinked back to reality at player 222 tapping your shoulder. "We have to move" She said, gesturing towards the crowd. Everyone had slowly begun to form lines of four, a table and guard at every end.
It was a fast process, the lines moved with ease each player signing a consent form - which you had come to learn from who you now knew as Junhee.
PLAYER CONSENT FORM.
1. A player is not allowed to voluntarily quit.
2. A player who refuses to play will be eliminated.
3. The games may be terminated upon a majority vote. In case of a tie players will vote again.
4. If the games are terminated, players will divide the prize equally.
SIGNATURE _________.
The pen in your hand hesitated for a moment, hovering ever so slightly above the paper. You faltered but in the end it wasn't a difficult decision, you hadn't a clue how much the prize money was but anything was more than you had now. You had to win it.
𓈒 ˖ ࣪ 𐙚 ⊹ ‧₊˚
You moved quickly through the crowds, bumping into countless people on the way, their faces scowling in your direction. You ignored them, on a mission to find Hyunju. You abruptly came to a halt, face to face with a queue of people and pink screens. You heard the clicks of a camera, noticing the people dressed like you smiling into them. They're taking ID pictures? You thought. This situation couldn't get any stranger.
"The first game will begin momentarily. After having your picture taken, follow the staff's instructions and proceed to the game site" A woman's robotic voice echoed through a speaker.
Your eyes flickered around the bright coloured room while you fidgeted in your spot. You raised on your toes, looking out for that familiar short haired girl but to no luck. The man in front of you smiled for his photo, then walking off to the side. The guard ushered you forward. You furrowed your brows, staring at the camera, unsure what to do.
"Please look into the camera and smile!"
The corners of your mouth upturned awkwardly. You were glad to not have seen a preview after the machine beeped, you didn't need to see how you looked right now. You dragged your feet off to the side, turning back to see if you could yet catch a sight of Hyunju. Again no luck.
You pressed your fingers against your eyes in frustration. Your teeth bit into your lip as you followed the direction of the other players, the woman's robotic voice still blaring through the speakers. The stairs seemed to be never ending, every corner was a new staircase until finally you came face with an open door leading outside. You felt the breeze against your face, breathing in a deep breath of fresh air. Your feet scuffed against the sandy floor, sticking to your white shoes.
Only when you weren't actively searching for her, she found you. "Y/N?" Hyunju's voice called across the yard, surprised.
You looked up from your shoes, relief flooded your veins at the sight of Hyunju's face. You swallowed back your tears, throat feeling tight.
She reached you, hands grabbing your shoulders then moving to caress your face. You couldn't quite tell how she was feeling. Scared, shocked, confused and happy. Her face was a mix of emotions. She quickly dropped her hands at the scoff of an older man passing you by.
"What're you doing here?" She questioned softly, tone still full of shock.
You chuckled bitterly. "What are you doing here?" You bit back.
Hyunju flinched. "I deserved that" She admitted. "I deserve a lot worse"
You took a deep breath trying to regain your cool. "So, this is where you ended up?" You questioned, disappointed and hurt.
She reached a hand towards you, not expecting to be ignored. Hyunju's face fell, her eyes glistening. "Please, you have to understand, Y/N" She begged. "I did it for us" You know she's right, you'd already come to terms with that after seeing her on the screen. You were here for the same reason. But that didn't excuse what she had done, leaving you without an explanation for so long.
You're interrupted by a manic males voice. You both turn to look at where the commotion is coming from. Player 456 is pushing his way through the crowd, arms waving wildly. "Everyone" He shouted. The silence between is uncomfortable, everyone's focus turned to the unknown frantic man. "Everyone listen up! Pay attention!"
You look at Hyunju, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Her expression matched yours.
"Listen carefully! This is not just a game, if you loose the game, you die!"
The silence doesn't last very much longer, laughter echoes across the courtyard. "Hey!" A woman's voice called, somewhere from the front. "What are you talking about? We're going to die playing red light green light?"
You're playing red light, green light? You asked yourself. You hadn't been paying attention too busy in conversation with your missing, now found, girlfriend.
"Yes that's right" He replied. "If they catch you moving, they will kill you. They will shoot you from somewhere! Stay on your toes, if you get caught you die. That dolls eyes are motion detectors" He pointed to the massive doll behind him adorned in an orange dress and pig tails. "Stay on your toes" He repeated.
Your chest tightened. Surely he was lying, there was no way any of you would die playing red light, green light, it sounded ridiculous. You eyed Hyunju, her lips pursed clearly in the same battle with herself, to believe him or not.
"What the hell are you talking about?" The same man who scoffed at you earlier, questioned.
"I think he's trying to scare us so he can win the prize money" The man beside him said confidently. Everyone nodded in agreement.
"Don't pull any tricks, asshole" Another man called out.
Player 456 desperately pleaded, "You have to believe me"
You look at Hyunju again, you can tell she's also feeling the same way. He seemed too sincere to be lying, the panicked look on his face was chilling. The doll behind him began to turn, the creaking sound scraping against your ears.
"Don't be alarmed or panic. No matter what happens, don’t panic and start running" He bellowed, voice strained.
The same woman's voice came from another speak once again, "Let the game begin"
"What do we do?" You whispered to Hyunju.
She faced you, voice a little shaky when she spoke back. "Stay beside me, just in case"
You nodded, moving closer to her. The older girl looked down at you, eyes full of sorrow. She sadly smiled with a nod turning back to face the doll, you followed her eyesight. A five minute timer was now displayed on the wall and the game began.
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chrypir · 2 days ago
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FOR THE BEST
in which two past lovers meet again when they needed each other the most. 🎐
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after 2 years of letting go the dream she once lived Yu Jimin now faces the hard time of living a life she doesn’t deserve. as she navigates through herself and her emotions she stumbles back apon Choi Su Bong. a childish man that she once called hers. however, now unable to call their relationship something in the present, the two split due to difficulties in life. but a man in a suit and a silly offer to play some games can change everything for these two.
hi everyone! this is my first fanfic so i hope you guys enjoy! this will be chapter one and i’ll try to send more chapters asap! this is a past lovers fic with angst and a hint of smut eheh, but this will be a choi su bong x oc fic since i dont really like doing xreader fics hehe. but i might do one in the future who knows! nws enjoy!
CHAPTER 1: the lies i tell myself
YU JIMIN
“Uhm excuse me?”
I felt a light tap on my shoulder, turning around a small kid came eye to eye with me. “Yes can I help you?” I was exhausted, working here in a children’s play area was not for the weak. The amount of shit I had to clean up (literally), the moms coming an hour later to pick up their kids, and don’t get me started on the married fathers hitting on me. “Unnie can you help me find my toy? I think I lost it in the area over there..” I let out a sigh, ‘It doesn’t hurt to help a kid out..’, I thought to myself. “Sure kiddo, just lead me to where you think it might be.” I crouched down and ruffled his hair.
-
“You sure it’s here?” It’s been 15 minutes and I’ve been scrambling through the ball pits to find a car toy for the kid. My knees were about to go numb. “Oh unnie!” I turned around, sweat dripping through my forehead, it was a hot day already and going through thousands of plastic balls did not help. “Yes?” I replied. “It was in my pocket the whole time!” My a small smile formed, “Was it now huh?” I teased him, standing back up as I told myself he’s just a kid. “I’m really sorry for bothering you…” My smile faded as the little boy looked down. “Hey it’s alright! I can be kind of careless with my stuff too. No biggie!” I send a reassuring smile to the kid, hoping it was able to make him feel less guilty.
An hour later I closed up the shop and started my way to the race track. “Ajussi, mind turning the power on?” “Isn’t it past your bed time?” “Just turn the power on.” I laughed. Ending the day by going on the race track was always something I looked forward to. Putting on my gear I signaled the ready sign and waited for the track to be complete. As I close my eyes I felt the breeze of the wind. Gripping onto my steering wheel.
As soon as the gun went off I let go of everything and drive.
-
“Aigoo, look how skinny you are now. Here I bought some jjajangmyeon. Let’s eat” “You’re my favorite ajussi!” I giggled as I wiped the sweat off of my face. “So, how’s the investigation? Have they found her yet?” I sighed, disapointment plastered all over my face. “No, they say it’s gonna be harder since the last time I was with her she was still a baby.. But I’m sure they’ll find her someday.” As I chew the noodles in my mouth all the negative feelings start coming back, and without knowing tears start to build up in my eyes. “Hey, hey,” I look up at the old man, feeling his hand cover my own, “They’ll find her.” he reassured with a smile. I look at him without saying anything, my eyes still teary. I smile. It was great having someone to still lean onto. Someone I could still find positivity from during dark times.
Money was growing tighter, my fairytale of a life was taken away from me, I didn’t have any hope for life at some point. I remember walking up to the bridge to jump. I was so tired. So tired of how everything was being taken away from me one at a time. Until this Old Man caught me. The way he stood by me no matter what. Gave me a place to live, fed me, and took care of me. Coincidentally he was an owner of a race track, however it wasn’t being used so as soon as I came in it was mine to borrow.
Looking at the old man as he continued eating I smile, “Ajussi,” he looked up, “thank you.” “Aigoo just eat your noodles.” I laugh, and the world grew quieter.
CHOI SU BONG
“Ya, Choi Su Bong!”
Fuck this bitch is killing me. As I stepped out of the apartment my head was aching. Alcohol was still in my system and I wasn’t entirely sobered up yet. “Ya! Choi Su Bong!” “What? Can’t you see I’m trying to go home?” “You still owe me 3 more sessions! What makes you think you can just run away after fucking me without aftercare huh?!” I lit the cigarette in my palms, taking a big huff as my whole head felt like it was gonna explode. “I’ll come by next week.” and with that I was finally left alone.
The truth is I didn’t wanna do sex work. It was the last option in my list. However, after that fucking crypto scam my whole world fell apart. Things were going great at first, my career was sky rocketing, hit after hit released in my rap albums. I felt like I was on top of the world. Until the crypto shit started.. When I lost all my life savings I was done for. I couldn’t afford rent, couldn’t make anymore music, I was in the dumps. Till a friend told me about sex work. I’ll be honest at first I was intrigued, my dumbass totally thought I could actually earn shit by making some girls cum. Turns out I was wrong, I’m stuck with debt and annoying girls trying to pull on my dick.
As I kept walking trying to find my way back to the motel I was staying at my phone started ringing. “The fuck..” Checking my phone I realized it was mom. “Shit.” My hands started shaking, the last time I talked with my parents (especially my father) was when I got kicked out of the house after they found out I wanted to pursue a career of rap and music. I let out a sigh before picking up the phone call, “Hello?” Complete silence. “Su Bonga..” The voice of my mom came out, and all of a sudden I felt tears pool in. “How’ve you been? You doing okay? Sorry for calling so late, your father’s out of town and I was wondering how you were..” “I’m comfortable mom, no need to worry..” I slipped out a lie. Lie number 1. “Ah I see.. Hows Jimin? Is she still having trouble sleeping?” My mind was racing at this point, her name started ringing in my ears. “Yea she’s doing better, I try to help her out sometimes and I just bought her some medication.” Lie number 2.
“Okay well.. I see you’re doing well. That makes me relieved, please tell Jimin I said hello… Goodnight Su Bong.” “Night mom.. I lo-“ and with that the phone ended.
At this point I was lying to everyone I loved. Lying to myself was also part of the deal.
END OF CHAPTER 1
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kricketwritesstories · 3 days ago
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Veritaserum or Dare
A Hogwarts Legacy Fic
Pairing: Sebastian Sallow/MC; Sebastian Sallow/reader
Summary: You and a bunch of your friends are at Hogwarts during Christmas break. Garreth overhears you explaining the muggle game truth or dare and decides to “enhance” it like one of his potion experiments.
Hilarity and confessions ensue
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“What afraid of the truth Gaunt,” Imelda taunted.
Ominis chuckled, “It’s not me, it’s the rest of you I fear for…but if it’s truth you guys want don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Before anyone could protest he had already downed the vial of veritaserum Imelda was holding out for him.
“Well now you will all see what I’ve had to deal with for 6 years,” Sebastian said smugly before he drank his vial. He grimaced, “Good luck to us all!”
The odd circle of friends gathered around the fire of the Slytherin common room look at one another with excitement and apprehension. It was Garreth who suggested Veritaserum or Dare after overhearing you explain truth or dare to Imelda, Natty, and Poppy. How he got everyone to agree - specifically Ominis and Amit - was a mystery to everyone. He was the one who suggested to play in the Slytherin common room as well to “be as far away” from his aunts meddling as possible.
“The only reason I agreed to this is because Sebastian is the one who brewed this,” you admitted.
Sebastian’s cheeks reddened at your compliment and in that moment he was thankful he was seated the closest to the fire. His voice portrayed his usual confidence as he teased, “Here that Weasley? I’m the trusted potionier here!”
“Yea, yea,” the redhead dismissed, “let’s get this started before the effects wear off…with how strong this is we’ve got what an hour or two tops?”
The game commenced and after a few rounds everyone was frustrated. Not one person had picked truth. As frustrating as that was at least the dares were amusing:
Amit had to use the disillusionment charm and retrieve one of Professor Garlick’s undergarments. When he came back red faced and explained she didn’t own any, the roars of laughter echoed throughout the dungeon.
Natty had to run around the faculty tower in her animagus form without getting caught. Watching a gazelle attempting to go up and down the spiral stairs was too much. She was almost caught because the group of you watching couldn’t stop laughing. Professor Onai stepped out of her room at one point and looked around to find nothing there.
“Hearing wild animals in the hallways,” she said as she looked down at her mug and whistled lowly, “I better slow down on the fire whiskey.”
As soon as she went back inside the lot of you hauled ass back to the Slytherin common room and only then did you start laughing again.
Natty swatted Amit hard on his shoulder, “Don’t you ever try to mount me like I’m some kind of horse when I’m in my animagus form ever again or I’ll shove your precious telescope so far up you-“
“I’M SORRY I PANCIKED,” Amit cried running away from Natty, “YOU KNOW I CAN’T RUN FAST!”
Poppy had to down a shot of fire whiskey that Gareth had pilfered and then try to steal Leander’s toad that he left behind while he went home for the holiday. After several run ins with walls and hiccuping pleas that she would be a better owner than Leander, she finally got him.
“I’m *hiccup* keeping him. What kind of soulless *hiccup* git *hiccup* leaves a creature behind,” she declared before she started crying. It took several minutes of soothing and petting the toad to calm her down. She still cuddled him now and randomly reassured him that he was safe now she would treat him better anyway.
Imelda had to “makeout” with a portrait - specifically Sir Cadogan - and she did so with gusto and way too little shame.
“You know as amusing as all these dares I’ve witnessed tonight are,” Ominis deadpanned at the group, “what’s the point of downing vertaserum if we aren’t planning on taking advantage of its effects!”
No one spoke up.
“Fine I’ll start: truth ask me anything,” he sighed in frustration.
“Umm do you have a crush on anyone,” Natty piped up, unsure what else to ask.
“How original,” he sighed but there was no real venom in his voice, “I suppose if I didn’t have a crush on my girlfriend she would be highly put out don’t you think?”
The group gasped. You giggled furiously. Sebastian whipped his head around to his best friend, “Girlfriend?! What girlfriend? And wait why is y/n laughing? Did you know he has a girlfriend?”
“Yes and it’s not my turn,” you laughed as you answered strategically
“Traitors! The both of you,” he exclaimed, “well who is it?!”
“Sorry, my turn is over and it’s my turn to ask,” Ominis stated simply. He smiled as he heard the uptick of Sebastian’s heart. It was too easy…might as well make him sweat a bit.
“I think I shall ask….Imelda, truth or dare?”
“Truth, bring it Gaunt, I have nothing to hide,” she said proudly.
“The other day I was taking a walk outside, right around Kogawa’s office and summoners court,” Ominis started.
Imelda’s face fell immediately and she looked like she was about to be sick.
“As I walked past the room where the quidditch supplies are kept I couldn’t help but hear your outcries of distress,” Ominis grinned as he emphasized outcries, “or was it distress? Or rather the true question: what were you doing in there?”
Everyone looked at her expectantly. She gripped her mouth until her knuckles were white. She felt like she was going to be sick if she didn’t answer soon. “Oh come now Imelda, I thought you had nothing to hide,” Ominis teased mercilessly.
The serum was burning through her forcing the truth out. In one breath she exclaimed, “I was getting myself off on my broom.”
There was a beat of silence before everyone lost it. “I told you I wasn’t the one who should be afraid,” Ominis said smugly.
“I knew how much you loved flying but I didn’t KNOW how much you LOVED flying,” Natty said in between giggles.
“How does one even do something like that with a broom,” Poppy asked innocently confused.
“Good question Poppy,” Gareth interjected, “I dare you to show us how!”
All the girls threw pillows at him shouting choruses of, “You’re disgusting!” and “How dare you?!”
Imelda sat a little straighter, “Too bad. My turns over and you know what Sallow you’ve been a bit too quiet.”
Sebastian’s eyes went wide, “So wait, I didn’t say anything like these guys - all I did was laugh - and you’re after me now?!”
“Afraid of the truth Sallow,” Imelda dared, knowing Sebastian never backs down from a challenge.
“Absolutely not, fire away,” he declared with forced casualness.
“Last year,” she started slowly.
You, Sebastian, and Ominis tensed slightly and stole glances at one another.
“There was a rumor that you took the fall for breaking into the restricted section for this one,” she nodded her head at you, “Why?”
You cut in laughing, “Everyone knows he likes having people owe him favors so -“
“I thought she was gorgeous and I wanted to both impress and protect her,” he admitted with a red face, not daring to look in your direction.
As a chorus of “ooos” and “I knew it”s rang out you reached for the fire whiskey so you could blame your deep red body blush on that instead of Sebastian’s admission.
“Hey that’s not butter beer,” Poppy whispered knowing you never touch fire whiskey.
“I know,” you whispered back right before you downed a huge gulp.
“Gareth,” Sebastian said briskly, determined to get the spotlight off him, “who’s name do you pant when you get off - anyone here?”
This is when Sebastian finally looks at you. He has a triumphant grin as he’s sure his point is about ready to be proven.
“Poppy,” Gareth said sheepishly.
Poppy immediately spit her butter beer out and it sprayed all over Amit.
“I’m sorry,” Gareth winced, “I didn’t mean for you to find out my feelings for you this way.”
He shot a glare at Sebastian at the same time you shouted, “HA! I told you he was never flirting with me that we’re just friends!”
Sebastian gaped open mouthed between Poppy (who had just taken another shot of fire whiskey herself) and Gareth.
“But…but I swear he was all over you and flirting all last year,” Sebastian doubled down.
“Yea I was,” Gareth explained as he scratched the back of his neck, “I thought if I flattered her she would be able to get me an in with Poppy. Y/n is the first person to gain any headway with her so….”
“Wait a minute,” Amit piped up, “why does it matter to you if he was flirting with her or not?”
Ominis chuckled, but said nothing.
“Yea and why is it so important that Sebastian know that he wasn’t y/n,” Natty asked knowingly.
“And those are the million Knut questions aren’t they,” Ominis said smugly as he raised his glass of butter beer and took a drink.
“Wh- wh- who’s turn is it now,” you asked in a high pitched voice.
“Everyone’s gone but you sweetheart,” Gareth said.
“Knock that off Weasley or I swear to Merlin I will curse you so badly your future generations will feel it,” Sebastian barked.
You could hear a pin drop as everyone turned to stare at him. Everyone, except for you, was holding in so much laughter it hurt.
“DARE,” you screamed to break the tension, “I will take any dare you throw at me right now!”
The heads that were turned on Sebastian all creepily turned towards you with that same “cat who got the cream” facial expression. You shuddered as you realized your mistake, and braced for what was to come.
“I DARE you,” Gareth declared with purpose, “to tell your crush that you like him.”
Sebastian held his breath. He was torn between loudly protesting and begging Merlin that it was him. All those feelings still when he saw a tear stream down your face - then all he felt was anger.
“Look what you did Weasley,” he said enraged as he pulled out his wand, “couldn’t give her a break? Or be more original?”
“It’s okay I’m just scared of rejection and I definitely didn’t want to say these words with an audience but if I don’t say it I’m going to explode,” you explained quietly as you put a hand on Sebastian’s arm to lower his wand.
He turned to face you and you looked up at him through your lashes.
“I love you Sebastian,” you said in a small voice, “I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you in our common room, pacing in concentration nose deep in a book. When you called me a kindred spirit I thought for sure you could see I was a goner. I come with a lot of baggage and we’re so close as friends. I understand if this puts you off and you want space from me.”
Sebastian just stared open mouthed back at you. He did so a beat too long and you start walking to your dorm while furiously wiping at your face, “I’m off to bed. Happy Christmas guys!”
When you were completely out of the room everyone turned their eyes to Sebastian who was still frozen in place.
“SALLOW YOU ABSOLUTELY ARSE! I MAY FUCK MY BROOM ON OCCASION BUT THAT’S NOTHING COMPARED TO HOW BADLY YOU JUST FUCKED UP RIGHT NOW,” Imelda screeched and cringed at her own admission. Her anger for her friend overriding her embarrassment.
“Imelda is spot on Sebastian,” Ominis sighed in judgment as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
Suddenly he stood up and announced, “Sebastian: you’re not allowed back in our room until after you’ve fixed this, you utter imbecile. Garreth, you don’t deserve Poppy, but she seems to be into you despite your revelations. Don’t. Muck. It. Up. She’s not a potion to be experimented with. Natty, Poppy - you two are lovely, never change. Amit: good luck not picturing Professor Garlick naked from now on. Imelda: you fuck your broom, enough said. Now goodnight!”
Everyone was silently holding their breath as he headed towards his room. Right before he walked out of eye sight he turned around and said, “Oh yes, and Sebastian? I’m courting Anne, because I am a man who can express his feelings and do something about them. I’m blind not dumb.”
After a few moments of silence Garreth shrugged and spoke up, “He did warn us about him joining in. He was not kidding.”
“I’m - regrettably - a Gaunt. We don’t kid,” Ominis shouted from the hallway, “and before you comment I’m blind not deaf and you have the shrillest voice I’ve ever heard from a man Garreth!”
“What are you still doing here,” Amit questioned the still frozen Sebastian.
“I think he’s still in shock,” Natty giggled.
“HEY SALLOW! HAVE YOU BEEN PETRIFICUS TOTALUSED?! NO? THEN GO FIX THIS NOW OR SO HELP ME I WILL HEX YOU MYSELF,” Poppy threatened.
That snapped Sebastian out of it and he turned to look at Poppy. When he saw the dangerous look in her eyes he scrambled tripping over his feet and took off for your dorm.
“That…was incredibly sexy,” Gareth said as he slid closer to Poppy, “I knew you had a little Gryffindor inside you….would you liked some more?”
He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively as Imelda yelled at him and Poppy giggled.
“Buy me a butterbeer first and then we’ll talk,” she said flirtatiously.
Sebastian could barely hear the roar of his friends’ laughter over the rapid beating of his heart. He knocked on your door a couple times before coming in. You were sat on the side of your bed with your back to him.
“Go away Sebastian. I don’t want your pity,” you said tiredly, “I know I’m a lot to deal with so I’m not surprised and you don’t have to worry I won’t fawn all over you.”
Hearing your self deprecating side hurt him to his core and gave him the strength he needed. In a couple quick strides he made it over to face you. Then he said something you did not expect:
“I know you didn’t take the veritaserum,” he said softly.
“What are you talking about,” you said defensively.
He gave you a knowing look and you sighed, “How did you know?”
It was his turn to sigh as he sat next to you on your bed tilting his body to face you.
“Because I know you. You’re so caring and responsible I know that there is no way that you would ever risk accidentally letting out the…how shall I say…more confidential details about last years events. Which is something I didn’t even think about, no surprise there,” he reasoned before giving you that lopsided grin that made you weak in the knees, “and I might have definitely seen you put the full vial in your pocket when you thought no one was paying attention. And if there’s one thing I do thoroughly is pay attention to you.”
“Sebastian don’t say things you don’t mean just to make me feel bet - OH MERLIN WHAT ARE YOU DOING,” you exclaimed as he bent over you to root through your right pocket.
“See I pay attention,” he said with a grin before he downed the serum, “Just in case the first batch wore off…I need you to know I’m being completely honest.”
He waited a moment and then stood up to move in front of you. You couldn’t stop the billions of butterflies that fluttered around in your stomach as he crouched down and gently took your hands in his.
You’d never seen him look this serious - well other than his frustrated and angry seriousness from last year. This was different. This was softness and so very vulnerable.
“The day you came bursting in the great hall out of breath but still maintaining a confidence that showed us all you belong here…I just knew you were special. I was hoping desperately you’d be sorted in Slytherin. I chided myself for that. See I know everyone thinks I’m a big flirt but it’s not on purpose. I can’t help how naturally charming I am,” he visibly cringed after he said that last sentence.
You chuckled and gave him a deadpan look.
“Okay yea, maybe you’re right and I am a but arrogant, I heard it then,” he admitted and shook his head, “regardless, love and those kind of relationships just weren’t on my priority list. Anne and I went through so much. When I wasn’t at Hogwarts I was just trying to survive being around my Uncle and how he treated me. Then when I was here I had my sister and Ominis and my studies - and yes okay being generally popular has been fun. Yep heard it that time too - Merlin I didn’t know I thought so highly of myself!”
“Go on,” you encouraged through your soft laughter, “before the serum wears off and I don’t believe a word you’re saying.”
“I know you’re teasing but ouch. You’re right though. When you came over and spoke to me I called you a kindred spirit because I knew if I said soulmate I would’ve scared you away. It didn’t make sense to me I didn’t even know you but you felt like home almost immediately. Then you knocked me on my ass and I was done for, I had to do whatever I could to be close to you. I do pay attention. I look for you everywhere when we’re not together. I come up with any excuse I can to be near you. Then when everything went sideways you stayed by me even when I was nasty to you, when I cursed you, when I took more than I gave. I was horrible and I don’t deserve you. You. Beautiful. Incredible. Kind. Feisty. Witty. Intelligent. Wonderful you. I love you darling, I’ve been yours since I laid eyes on you.”
Tears spilled from your eyes as you lunged forward to capture his lips in a kiss. He responded in kind and as the kiss deepened you grabbed a hold of his shirt and pulled him up onto the bed with you. Neither of you broke the kiss during this, each of you needing the other more than air.
He caged you between his arms and the bed. Then just as suddenly as it started he pulled away looking confused and slightly upset.
Your mind started racing: did you go too far, did he change his mind now that you’ve kissed, were you a bad kisser?!
“Wait a minute,” he said slowly processing something as he looked towards your door, “Did Ominis say that he’s dating Anne - as in my twin sister Anne?!”
You burst out laughing underneath him, “You’re slow, but you get there!”
While he was distracted you used your legs to flip him over on his back so you were on top straddling him. You smirked as you took in his shocked and reddened face. Thank Merlin for all that galavanting in the highlands, you were a lot stronger than you looked
“Now that I’ve knocked you on your ass again, how about we put Ominis and Anne on hold and focus on you and me, huh,” you said lowly causing Sebastian to shiver.
He reached a hand out to tuck some of your hair behind your ear and whispered, “Merlin I love you!”
His face broke out in a devilish grin, “I could get used to this view you know.”
Normally you’d blush and turn into a puddle at his words. Not tonight, not now that you know he feels the same.
“Well then let’s experiment and see how many ‘views’ we can come up with,” you said suggestively.
Sebastian gulped but maintained his confidence when he spoke, “I am a sucker for research and experiments. And we do have a lot of time to make up for, don’t we darling?”
As you both got lost in one another you didn’t hear what was going on outside your door.
“Well I guess I’m not sleeping in my room tonight,” Imelda sighed, “I mean good on them - about time honestly. However I don’t even want to sleep in this house tonight, Sallow seems like a screamer to me.”
“You would know,” teased Poppy referring to Ominis hearing Imelda having fun with her broom
“That’s it you’re never touching firewhiskey again,” Imelda scolded as her cheeks heated up, “can I stay in your room Natty, since Poppy here is being a jerk.”
Natty put an arm around Imelda and smiled warmly at her.
“Of course you can, my friend…just uh…leave your broom behind please,” she joked and then bolted before Imelda could hex her.
“OH COME ON, YOU TOO,” Imelda shouted as she took off after her back to the common room where Garreth and Amit were still lounging.
“Do you think she gets splinters…you know….there,” a wide eyed Amit asked Garreth.
“Weasley. You. Are. DEAD,” Imelda yelled as she pulled out her wand.
“WHY ME,” he shrieked.
“Because this game was your damn idea to begin with now stay still you rotten bastard,” she ordered.
“POPPY SAVE ME! YOU’RE SCARY ENOUGH ON FIREWHISKEY TO TAKE HER! HELP!,” Garreth screeched as he ran.
In that moment you broke your kiss with Sebastian. You looked absolutely panicked as you whisper yelled, “Oh no Professor Weasley! I can hear her voice coming from the common room she sounds horrified! Merlin she’s going to kill us if she finds us like - Seb why are you laughing? Seb come on this is serious! She’s got that shrill upset tone she gets when she’s livid.”
“Just trust me, we’re safe. Now kiss me,” he promised.
“Screw it, you’re worth all the detentions!”
With that the two of you became lost in one another once more. It was a Happy Christmas indeed!
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gf2bellamy · 4 hours ago
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worries — spencer reid
pairing: spencer reid x reader ( no use of y/n ) summary: you get hurt while catching an unsub and spencer is worried content warnings: multiple mentions of being held at gunpoint , cut on the cheek bleeding, an ambulance arriving
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Your chest heaved as you leaned against the cool brick wall outside the building, trying to catch your breath. The world around you felt muffled, like everything had been wrapped in cotton. The distant hum of sirens, and the occasional crackle of a police radio faded in and out, none of it penetrating the haze in your mind. 
Your hands trembled as you wiped them down your thighs, but the movement did little to stop the shaking.
It had been barely five minutes since the unsub had been standing in front of you, gun raised and finger on the trigger. Five minutes since you’d stared death in the face. 
If it hadn’t been for Emily—her quick thinking, her precise aim—you wouldn’t be standing here now. The thought sent a fresh wave of adrenaline coursing through your body, your heart racing all over again. You pressed your back harder against the wall, hoping the solid surface would ground you, give you something tangible to hold onto. 
A few minutes passed, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins as you stood rooted to the spot. The distant wail of approaching sirens grew louder, signaling the arrival of the ambulance.
The sound of a door creaking open caught your attention, and you turned to see Emily stepping out of the house. The moment her eyes landed on you, her expression softened. 
“You okay?” she asked, her voice low but filled with genuine concern. She placed a steadying hand on your back.
You nodded, though you weren’t entirely sure if it was true. “Yeah, I think so,” you said, your voice quieter than you intended. 
Emily’s sharp eyes scanned your face, and then she frowned, her brows knitting together. “You’re bleeding,” she said, gesturing to your cheek. 
Your hand instinctively flew up to your face, fingers brushing against a stinging sensation you hadn’t noticed until now. When you pulled your hand back, your fingertips were smeared with blood. 
“I didn’t even realize…” you murmured, your voice trailing off as you tried to recall when or how you’d gotten the cut. The events of the past hour blurred together in a chaotic whirlwind, making it impossible to pinpoint. 
“It looks deep,” Emily said, her tone firm but laced with concern. “You should get that checked out.” 
“I’m okay,” you replied, offering her a small, reassuring smile. 
Emily raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with your attempt to downplay the injury. “Uh-huh,” she said dryly. “And I’m the queen of England.” 
Before you could protest, she gently but firmly took hold of your arm, guiding you toward the ambulance that had just pulled up. “Come on,” she said, her tone brooking no argument. 
“Emily, it’s just a scratch,” you tried, but she shot you a pointed look that silenced any further objections. 
As you reached the paramedics, Emily waved one of them over. “She’s got a deep cut on her cheek,” she explained, her hand still resting on your arm as if she thought you might bolt at any second. 
The paramedic nodded, motioning for you to sit on the edge of the ambulance. You relented, sighing as you felt the cool touch of antiseptic on your skin. 
Emily stood nearby, her arms crossed as she watched the paramedic work.
“Thanks, Emily,” you said softly, glancing up at her once the bleeding had been stopped and the cut bandaged. 
As you sat on the edge of the ambulance, watching the paramedic clean up their supplies, another car pulled into the scene.
The dark sedan came to a halt, and you immediately recognized Rossi stepping out.
Emily was the first to approach him, gesturing toward the house as she gave a rundown of the situation.
Rossi nodded, his expression serious but calm, while Spencer stood just a step behind them, listening intently. His arms were crossed, his brow furrowed in concentration as he absorbed every word. 
Then, out of nowhere, Spencer’s head snapped up, his gaze darting straight to the ambulance. His eyes locked on you, and something in his expression shifted.
Concern etched itself into every line of his face as he suddenly stepped away from the conversation, cutting off whatever Rossi had been saying mid-sentence. 
You watched him approach, his pace quickening with every step, and you instinctively stood up, even though your legs still felt a little shaky. 
“Spence, I’m okay,” you started, raising your hands as if to stop him. But the words barely left your mouth before he was standing in front of you, his eyes scanning your face like he was trying to reassure himself you were really there. 
“Emily told me…” he began, his voice low and slightly unsteady. He swallowed hard, his hands twitching at his sides as he visibly tried to collect himself. “Emily told me you were held at gunpoint.” 
The worry in his tone hit you like a wave, and you felt a pang of guilt for being the source of his distress. “Spencer, I’m fine,” you said softly, stepping closer to him. “It was scary, yeah, but I’m okay. Emily—Emily saved me.” 
For a moment, he just stood there, his lips pressed into a thin line, like he was wrestling with some invisible force. 
Then, without warning, Spencer leaned down, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a hug. 
The gesture caught you completely off guard. Spencer wasn’t usually one for physical contact, let alone spontaneous hugs.
And yet here he was, holding you tightly, his face buried in your hair as he whispered, “I’m so glad you’re okay.” 
You froze for a second, startled by the unexpected intimacy, before the warmth of his embrace began to sink in. Slowly, you lifted your arms, wrapping them around him as you hugged him back. 
His grip didn’t loosen right away—if anything, it tightened slightly, like he was afraid you might slip away if he let go too soon. His breath was warm against your hair, and you could feel the faint tremble in his hands as they pressed against your back. 
“I mean it,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if…” He trailed off, not finishing the thought, but the weight of his words hung heavy in the air. 
You hesitated, unsure of what to say that could possibly ease his worry. Instead, you tightened your hold, resting your cheek against his chest as you whispered, “I’m here, Spence. I’m okay.” 
After a moment, he pulled back slightly, just enough to meet your eyes. His face was flushed, his usual awkwardness beginning to creep back in, but he didn’t let go entirely. “Sorry,” he said, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips.  
You shook your head, offering him a small, reassuring smile. “Don't be sorry,” you said softly. “That was… nice.” 
Spencer let out a quiet, relieved laugh, finally stepping back but keeping his gaze locked on you. 
You smiled back at him, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest that had nothing to do with the danger you’d just faced.
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deeplyshalllow · 3 days ago
Note
Do the gale force soldiers witness Fiyero’s transformation? Or do they leave him tied up and come back for Torture part 2: For Bad in the morning/after a coffee break then panic because
a. someone’s obviously used the clothes of their mostly dead ex-captain to make a creepy scarecrow decoy, suggesting the real Fiyero has miraculously escaped in his underwear,
b. they believe they’ve forgotten where they put him, because there are so many other scarecrows (a frankly ridiculous amount!) already in that cornfield, Fiyero’s body blends right in and it takes all day to check them all and come up unnervingly empty. (Oops! All scarecrows!) Prompting the soldiers to check them all again and again “How could you forget?” “Why did you have to tie a sack over his very recognisable face?” “You told me to?!” “Stop gaslighting me!” Etc
c. free space
d. they did see the transformation and it terrified them so much they scarpered to the nearest pub and drank to forget
a.a. they assume Elphaba has taken their dead guy, wholesale, “What do you even do with a dead prince?” “Bury him I guess,” “Use his bones for evil spells,” “I would put the dead prince in an ornately crafted glass coffin in the woods, so that the Winkies and woodland Animals can pay their respects and gaze upon his beautiful face.” … “Except we beat his face up.” “Yeah we beat his face up.”
I’m suffering the thought equivalent of zoomies I’m so so sorry
Loolll Firstly I got a good chuckle out of Torture part 2: For Bad, so thank you for that!
Honestly I've always thought option D - that they did see his transformation for several reasons:
They're supposed to torture Fiyero "until he tells us where the witch went" and (despite the fact that they do know where Elphaba is by March of the Witch Hunters - I think she's beyond being subtle at that point, and she does have good defences) I just can't believe Fiyero would ever tell them, he'd die first. So I do not think they are done with the torturing when he's transformed.
You have to remember that these are Fiyero's men. Guards who have worked under Fiyero, probably considered him a friend, and all along he has been betraying them and working for the Witch. They are probably not the most pleasant people in the first place and they are angry. I don't think any of them are giving up for a coffee break until he's done what they want and is dead
I actually think she casts the spell pretty fast? Like wishing for his flesh not to be torn and to not be feeling pain when he's beaten, is going to be pretty redundant more than 10 minutes after Fiyero has been captured (like it's obviously long enough for there to be some possibility for him to be "already dead or bleeding" but there's also a chance of his survival)? I imagine she got to the nearest safe place and cast. And Elphaba doesn't even cast the spell for that long before giving up and falling into despair so yeah, I imagine the men see it
They would want the body. There's a lot of power displaying tortured Fiyero to Oz whether it be "look what the Witch did to our beloved Prince" or "look what happens to traitors" it sends a message to the Ozians. I can't imagine them going without it if they can help it (and the fact they do come back empty handed and presumably lie about what happened to Morrible, can't have impressed her much)
Why doesn't the scarecrow get caught later then? I imagine the guards still don't necessarily know he's turned into a scarecrow - I imagine they ran away the moment the freaky magic started happening (and again, lied about the success of their murder when questioned by their superiors). There's also a non zero chance that, when they were taking a stiff drink after it all, Elphaba all "no good deed will i do again" returned to the field, found no Fiyero and the guards drinking (she presumes in celebration) and just burnt them all to death.
Thanks for the question! It was fun to specuate!
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graceisinthelibrary · 1 day ago
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Another prompt! If you haven't done it, how about 19?
Thanks for the prompt :-) It's a bit of a stretch, but I think this works:
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“Tell me where you are, I'll come and get you.”
Usually this was his sentence. Since she had taken over the role as a blackout warden, she had called him twice for help. 
The first time she had found the fatally poisoned Bingo, the second time her bike had broken down in the middle of nowhere. He had picked her up that night and they had finished her round together and he had been surprised how many blackout offenders lived in and around Darrowby. It had pacified his mind immensely and she was, of course, not happy about it. At least Bosworth, the old grump, had given her a better bike after that incident and Siegfried secretly hated that she had never called him again. 
This time however he had been the one needing her help. 
What he hadn’t anticipated was how quickly she had found him, not on her bike though. It had only taken her fifteen minutes and he figured she must have pushed the engine of the old Morris to its limits. To his surprise, she was wearing her uniform, but no helmet. The jacket, however, looked strangely astray, because she had missed a few buttons and he noticed her flushed cheeks. His pulse became a little unsteady as he watched her approaching him. The stiff breeze up here in the Dales tore at her hair and a few strands had come loose and she was eagerly brushing them behind her ears. The sun was setting behind the hills and the air got chilly. He shivered a bit. 
“Mr Farnon!” She shouted, her voice filled with a worry he couldn’t grasp. “I came as quickly as I could.” 
“Where you out on a mission?” He asked, pointing at her uniform, when she stopped in front of him. 
Perplexed, she shook her head. “You said it’s an emergency. Something about a crash in a field.” She went over to the wall and looked over it.  
He cleared his throat. “Err… Mrs Hall…” 
“There’s nothing,” she said deadpan after she wasn’t sure her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her. There was no crashed plane or any other debris that could be remotely war related. All she saw was a meadow in the endless beauty of the Yorkshire Dales. 
“Siegfried Farnon…” 
“I never said anything about a crashed plane,” he clarified before her wrath could hit him with full force. “I said I had a problem near a field, where I almost crashed.” He pointed at his beloved Rover that stood about ten yards away. The vehicle parked near a ditch. She went back to him and with a heavy sigh she took off her warden bag. “What happened?” 
“One of the tires bursted,” he reported. “But the Rover’s fine, just a bit shaken up. And now I need a lift.” 
She gave him one of her killer looks. One that was reserved for muck on the floor in the kitchen or when she caught him using the Lord’s name in vain. 
“You do know I dropped everything on the spot to come here,” she said, deliberately calm. “I thought you were hurt or worse.” 
“Well…” He swallowed. “I am most grateful to you, but that was a misunderstanding…” In retrospect, he thought, the line had been a bit cranky and he may have hung up the receiver a little too quickly. He also didn’t have any more coins on him, so he had to cut the call short. “I didn’t mean to worry you.” 
“I called Bosworth. He’s on his way. With the whole cavalry.” 
“I’m so sorry.” Feeling awkward he looked to the tip of his shoes. 
“I’m glad you’re alright,” she said after a few seconds of silence. “Ridiculous creature.” 
He stole a glance from her. She wasn’t as angry with him as she pretended to be. He heard it in her voice. She wasn’t amused, but she was certainly relieved that he was still in one piece. 
“Admit it,” he joked. “You would have loved to play the heroine who saves the damsel in distress.” 
“You’re as much as a damsel as I’m a patron saint. And now get in the car, before I let you walk.”  
Sensing he was back in her good graces, he followed her to the Morris and obediently climbed into the passenger’s seat. As he watched her starting the engine, he couldn’t help but smile. She had dropped everything to rush to his rescue; it was a thought that warmed his heart more than he could say. 
“What’s so funny?” She asked when she saw the broad smile on his face. 
“Nothing.” 
“Mr Farnon…” 
“I just thought how lucky the whole of Darrowby can be to have you as their patron saint. That’s all.” She groaned and shook her head, but didn’t offer a retort. He loved having the last word on the matter. At least this once. 
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