#Sometimes it can be just agreement or disagreement

[scribblesofagoonerr]

September Love | Never Grow Up

the third and final installment in the mini series - this is the second version, more sadder so that's a heads up there

summary: remi starts her first year of school and there's a new arrival in the williamson family

pairings: leah williamson x reader

warning: talks of death.

alternative ending for this one - please don't hate me for it, i'm sorry in advance!

based on the reactions to this one, is how i am going to figure out the next mini series!

“I can’t believe it’s this time already,” Leah says, a frown etched on her face as she stares at an old photo of Remi at 5 weeks old that she had saved in her phone, “Where has the time gone?” She murmurs.

It only felt like it was yesterday.

“We blinked Le,” You tell her, your eyes softening, “And just like that, she’s off to big school.” You add.

“But she’s still too tiny for big school, isn’t she?” Your wife exhales a sigh and continues to stare at the photo on her phone with tears welling up in her eyes.

“Le, she’s 5 years old now. We have to let her go now,” You say gently, reminding your wife that your eldest girl was indeed not a baby now.

“I still don’t like it though,” Leah admits quietly, shaking her head in disagreement.

You can’t help but chuckle heartily, “She’s only going into her first year of reception, it’s not like she’s moving out the country,” You tease your wife, which you’re quick to be on the dirty end of a scowl, “Come on Le, you know what I mean.”

“Don’t even joke about things like that,” Leah murmurs, continuing to frown at you, “You don’t get it though, it’s her first day of big school… which means she’s not a baby anymore.” She adds.

“No she’s not,” You reply quietly in agreement.

Your wife bites her bottom lip and shakes her head vigorously, “I don’t like it. Why can’t we just turn back the clock?” She asks.

“It doesn’t work like that,” You laugh humorlessly and shake your head.

“It’s just,” Leah begins to say as she finds the right words, “She was our tiny little baby at one point and now… now she’s just growing up so fast.”

“Don’t worry, we’ve still got time to go through all this again, remember?” You tell her, gesturing towards your swollen belly as you are ready to give birth any day now, “Twice.”

“I know,” Your wife’s eyes soften as she crouches down and rests her hands on your baby bump, “I can’t wait to meet you baby boy.” She whispers, placing a gentle kiss on your stomach.

“And he can’t wait to meet his Mummy either,” You tell her, genuinely smiling at the blonde, “Any day now.” You add, hopeful that he does make his appearance sooner rather than later after getting to the stage of being uncomfortable, and pregnancy during Summer is no joke.

“Why’re you sad, Mummy?” Remi’s voice pipes up out of nowhere, all ready for school wearing her brand new school uniform that you have to admit looks massive on her, her hair done up in a loose ponytail with a red ribbon attached while she wears her new black shiny shoes that you had the absolute misfortune of having to experience standing in a queue to just to get into the busy shop – that is something that you can definitely say you’re not such a fan off.

“Oh I’m not sad, baby Gooner,” Leah immediately plasters a smile on her face, “I’m just… I’m really proud of you, you know?” She adds, wiping away the stray tears from her face.

“But you’re crying though,” Remi frowns in confusion as she tilts her head to the side, “You only do that when you’re sad, like when you watch them really sad films about the puppies or when you’re on the pitch sometimes–”

“Okay, okay, I think we get it,” Leah interjects, before your daughter has any further chance to expose your wife for the softy that she really is, “I’m not sad, baby Gooner. I’m just so excited for you that you’re starting big school today. Are you excited?” She questions.

“Uh huh! I am so excited, I can’t wait to make lots of friends like uncle Jacob told me about!” Remi is vibrating with excitement, which is more than can be said about your wife.

“You’re going to make so many new friends!” You reassure your little girl with a proud smile on your face, “Alright, how about we take a picture for your first day of big school, yeah?”

“Yeah!” Remi jumps up and down in delight at the idea.

“Big smiles, Remi Roo!” You encourage as your daughter flashes you a gap-toothed smile from the tooth that she lost just the previous week.

You make it a whole family occasion with Esme toddling in to join in the photo opportunity and many snaps are taken amongst your little family of four, soon to be five.

“Perfect, baby girl!” You tell her, taking lots of pictures as you stare at them with a sense of nostalgia as all the sudden memories come to light of the several milestones Remi has achieved over the last 5 years, “You really are growing up, Remi Roo.”

“I don’t like it, it’s too many milestones at once,” Leah cracks under the pressure and shakes her head, wiping another stray tear away.

“Le,” Your facial expression softens as you wrap your arms around your wife to comfort her.

“It’s okay, Mummy!” Remi wraps her small arms around Leah’s legs, “Don’t be sad now! It’s gon’ be okay!”

“Me join!” Esme, not wanting to be left out, holds her hands up in the air for you to lift her up, “Mummy sad?” She asks, confused.

“A little bit,” You answer your youngest honestly.

“I make it better,” Esme declares, pressing a sloppy kiss on Leah’s cheek, “All better?”

“Much better, thank you Essie Bear,” Leah coos, returning a gentle kiss to Esme’s cheek.

“You can still cuddle me, even when I’m at big school!” Remi points out, peering up to look at your wife from where she’s stood, “It’s okay!”

“Oh, well in that case then I am definitely holding you to that,” Leah grins and scoops Remi up into her arms, “I’m gonna get in all the snuggles in that I can!” She says, squeezing her tightly.

“Alright, alright,” You break it up jokingly, “Let’s not smother her before she even makes it out the door for her first day.”

“Don’t you dare make fun of me,” Leah tells you, pointing her index finger in your face, “This is a big moment today.” She adds, placing Remi back down on the floor.

You snicker in amusement at your wife’s expense, “Oh don’t I know it? Big bad scary Leah Williamson crying over her little girl’s first day at big school,” You pause, the smirk not leaving your face, “Gosh, what will the world think?”

Your wife glares at you and gently swats you, “Shut up, I’m allowed to be emotional today.”

“Uh huh, and what’s the reason for every other day then?” You can’t help but wonder with a shit eating grin on your face.

“You’re lucky that I love you,” Leah murmurs, rolling her eyes at your antics to wind her up.

“And I love you too,” You reply, pecking her on the lips, “You’re the lucky one that I put up with you being a blubbering mess every time Remi does something that’s deemed ‘too grown up’,” You remind her, amusedly.

“I’m emotional, okay?” Leah exclaims, throwing her hands up in the air, “She’s our eldest, our baby… Our baby Gooner!”

“You can’t call me that anymore, Mummy!” Your 5 year old points out, “I’m not a baby!”

Your wife pouts at your daughter's words and shakes her head, “You will always be my baby, no matter how old you get,” She pauses, “Even when you’re 30 and you have your own family.”

Remi wrinkles her face up in disgust, “Boys are yucky, I don’t want a boyfriend.” She states,

“And you’re definitely right to think that,” You chuckle amusedly as you gather your small family out of the door and make your way to your wife’s BMW, “I think if Mummy had her way, she wouldn’t let you date until you’re 25 at least.” You joke.

“I’m ready to go in!” Remi announces, standing outside of the school gates in a tone that sounds far more grown up than her 5 year old self, “I’m not scared.”

“It’s good to not be scared, you’re going to have so much fun!” You tell her, holding her hand and guiding her through the gates of the school while Leah follows behind holding Esme’s hand, “You’re going to smash it, baby girl!”

“And we’ll be right here to pick you up when the day is done, okay?” Leah reassures your daughter, catching up with your toddler, who likes to walk at her own pace.

“Okay!” Your eldest nods in agreement, bouncing on her toes as she carries her backpack that looks way too big for her.

“Rem! Rem!” Esme shouts to get her big sister’s attention, “Rem!”

“I’m going to big school, Bear,” Remi crouches down and wraps her arms around her little sister, “But I’ll see you when I’m home and tell you all about it!”

Watching the exchange between your daughters, makes your heart swell with pride and a touch of bittersweetness.

“Miss ‘ou, Rem,” Esme pouts, a little frown forming on her tiny face as her voice wobbles, as if she’s on the verge of tears.

“Miss you too, Bear,” Remi continues to squeeze her little sister tightly, “I’ll be back later though, don’t worry!” She adds with a smile that reveals her recently lost tooth.

“Come here, you,” Leah crouches down to your daughter’s level and wraps her arms around her, squeezing her tightly as if to not let go and hold on to her forever, “I’m so proud of you, here at big school, eh?  You’re going to make so many friends and learn so much! Oh, and have a lot of fun as well!” She tells her.

“Mummy,” Remi attempts to wriggle away from your wife’s embrace, “You’re… You’re squeezing too tight.” She whines,

“I’m just soaking up the moment until you’re home from school,” Leah admits, pulling back and brushing a loose strand of hair behind Remi’s ear, “Big school, eh? I wish you would stop growing up so much on me, I don’t like it.” She jokes with her.

“You have to let me grow up, Mummy,” Remi’s giggle is infectious as she squeezes your wife again tightly, “I gots’ to go in now, but I’ll see you when you pick me up, remember?”

“We will be right here waiting for you,” You tell her, unable to crouch down properly with your swollen belly in the way, “We’re so proud of you, Remi Roo!” You add, kissing the top of her head.

You spot your daughters’ teacher making her way over to your family as she gives you both a kind smile, “Hi, Remi. Are you ready to go in?” She asks.

“Yes!” Remi excitedly replies, giving you both a final hug goodbye before she takes hold of her teachers’ hand and begins to walk in the building, “Bye, Mummy! Bye, Mumma! Bye, Bear!” She calls back, her voice ringing with excitement.

“Bye, baby Gooner,” Leah waved back, her voice catching slightly as you see the glimmer of tears threatening to spill over again.

You can feel your own chest tightening as you force a smile and wave, “See you later, Remi Roo. Have the best day!”

“Bye-bye, Rem! Love you!” Esme clings to Leah’s leg, waving frantically.

“Save your tears for the car, Le,” You tease, taking note of your wife’s eyes, the tears are a lot more visible now, “I know it’s hard to watch her go in there, but it’ll be 3 o’clock before we know it.” You add, hoping that helps things a little better.

“I know,” Leah murmurs in agreement, walking round to the pre-school that Esme attended next to the school.

You can say that dropping Esme off to pre-school wasn’t too hard, although there were extra tight hugs given before your youngest daughter ran off inside without a care in the world.

Much to your wife’s disappointment, and you swear the tears threaten to spill again.

“At least we know what your weakness is now,” You joke, climbing back into the passenger seat of the car after dropping them both off, “It’s only a few hours, remember? It’ll be here before we know it.” You tell her.

Leah tries to laugh it off and shake her head as she climbs into the driver's seat, “Yeah, and to think I still have to go to training,” She pauses as wipes a visible tear away as she buckles her seatbelt in, “I wish I could just tell Jonas that we have a family emergency.” She tells you.

It’s at that moment, you completely freeze as you feel a sudden wet patch on your leather seat.

 “Um, Le,” You mumble, getting her attention as she fiddles with the dials of the car to find the right music playlist, “I think you might need to call Jonas and tell him that there’s a family emergency.” You say.

Leah turns towards you and looks confused, “Why’s that, love?” She wonders.

“Well, because I’m 99% sure that my waters have just broken,” You admit, gazing down to motion to the seat.

It takes literal seconds for your wife’s eyes to widen in shock, “What? Here? Now?” She rambles in a clear panic, “Seriously? Oh my God!”

“Don’t panic,” You murmur, trying to keep the situation calm despite your best efforts – Your wife is very much in a complete panic over this.

“I’m not… I’m not panicking,” Leah stutters her words as she runs her hand through her hair, “What'd we do? Do you feel like you have contractions? We need to get the hospital bag from the house!” She continues to ramble.

You shake your head in disagreement, “I don’t feel like there’s any currently,” You pause, “We’ll go home, stay there until they start and head to the hospital when it’s time, yeah?” You suggest, trying to keep calm in the situation despite the one being hours away from giving birth.

“O… Okay,” Leah swallows the lump that’s formed in her throat, “We’ll go home, we’ll wait there– I need to call my Mum, she’ll need to pick the girls up.” She notes in realisation.

“Yeah, I somehow don’t think it’s going to be possible to be there for the 3 o’clock pick up after all,” You murmur, exhaling a sigh, “Little man has decided today’s the day to make his grand entrance into the world.”

Plans don’t always go as expected. You certainly didn’t expect to go into labour on the very same day that your eldest daughter started big school, but sometimes life takes you by complete surprise.

That day, life had a far bigger surprise than you or Leah could ever have imagined.

“This doesn’t feel right, you should be here,” Leah speaks aloud a few hours later, cradling your newborn son, Archie George Williamson at home  in her arms, knowing that you should be here to see this moment as well. 

His tiny breaths, soft and slow, his fingers curled into little fists – You’re not there to hold him yourself.

The labour had been far more complicated than anyone could have anticipated and you lost too much blood, and though they tried to save you, you never woke up after your son came into the world.

Leah's eyes are red from crying, but she’s holding herself together for the sake of the baby – For the sake of the three children that you’ve left behind while she strokes Archie’s head softly, “I hate that you aren’t here, I hate that my Mum had to pick Remi up on her first day," She murmurs, almost to herself, “We promised her we would both be there.”

The room feels empty without you, a hollow space where your laughter and warmth should be. Leah feels the ache of your absence in every corner, in every breath she takes.

“I hope you know how much your Mumma loved you already, little man,” The blonde whispers,  her heart breaking as she looks down at Archie, whose little face is scrunched up while he sleeps, “Believe me, she loved you so, so much from the minute we found out we were expecting you.”

As she takes a deep breath to steady herself, she continues to speak, “Our family might not be complete now, but you’re here, Archie Bug and we’ll make sure that you know all about her.”

There’s a quiet knock on the door and the sound of little feet thundering down the hallway as Amanda has brought Remi and Esme back from school. Leah wipes her eyes quickly, trying to put on a brave face as the door flies open.

“Mummy!” Remi shouts, her voice full of excitement, her hair now wild and free from it’s ponytail, running into the room with wide eyes, bright and full of curiosity, unaware of the loss that’s waiting to be explained.

“Mumma! Mummy!” Esme echoes, hot of her sister’s heels, her usual energetic self completely oblivious to the gravity of the situation.

“Shhh, girls,” Leah gently admonishes, holding up a finger to her lips, “We have to be quiet and use our inside voices.” She reminds them softly, her heart aching as she realises she’ll have to tell them soon.

Remi, always so observant, stops short and notices the bundle in Leah’s arms, but frowns when she doesn’t see you on the sofa like she thought she would, “Where’s Mumma?”

Leah’s smile falters, the weight of her grief momentarily overwhelming as she struggles to find the words, “Mumma… She’s not here anymore,” she says softly, her voice quivering.

Remi’s head tilts in confusion, not able to understand your wife’s words so much, “What do you mean, Mummy?” She asks as her eyes fix on Archie as she tiptoes over to Leah with exaggerated caution, “Is this him?”

“It is,” Leah responds, her voice trembling, “Girls, this is your baby brother, Archie.”

Esme’s face lights up with delight, “Baby?” She says, her voice high-pitched and curious, “My baby?” She asks.

“Your baby brother,” Leah corrects with a small, sad smile as she continues to hold Archie in her arms.

Amanda, who has walked through the house with Jacob, peers over to look at her new grandson, “He’s perfect, Bubba.” She says, sharing a sad smile with her daughter.

Jacob scoops Esme up into his arms to give her a better look at your newborn, “He’s very little still, Es, so you have to be very gentle with him.” He tells her.

Remi leans in closer, her little face filled with wonder, “He’s tiny, Mummy,” She reaches out, carefully touching Archie’s tiny hand, “He’s smaller than my dollies.”

Leah laughs softly, tears threatening again, “He is, isn’t he?” She pauses to settle Archie down in his Moses basket, “But he’ll grow up to be big and strong, just like you.”

Jacob sets Esme down next to Remi, watching the two girls stare at their brother in the Moses basket as Amanda takes the moment to wrap her arms around her daughter to comfort her.

Wanting to be brave for her children, Leah wipes away any visible tears and plasters on a fake smile as she looks in the direction of her daughters, “What do you think, Essie Bear?” She asks, catching the moment that Esme tries to reach out and poke Archie’s cheek gently, “Gentle, Essie.” She reminds her with a soft smile.

Archie just lets out a soft sigh but still remains asleep, already learning to find comfort in the noise around him.

“He likes it, Mummy,” Esme declares confidently, trying to reach out and poke him again.

“We have to be gentle with him, Es. He’s only little,” Leah tells her softly, her voice catching in her throat.

Remi glances up at Leah, “Mummy, will he like Arsenal, like you do?” She asks, curiously.

“I mean I hope so, but if not then that’s okay too,” Leah answers honestly, pushing past the weight in her chest, “Just as long as he doesn’t follow uncle Jacob and support Spurs.” She jokes, trying to make light of the situation despite how heartbroken she feels inside.

“Of course you just had to get in there, didn’t you?” Jacob rolls his eyes, shaking his head in amusement.

“What? We’re a family full of Gooners in this house,”  Leah shrugs, trying to hold onto the joy in the room, “Just as long as all 3 of my kids are happy then that’s all that matters to me now.”

“Can I hold him, Mummy? Please?” Remi leans in closer, looking at Leah with those big, hopeful eyes that match her own.

Leah nods with a smile that almost feels real, “Okay, Rem, but you have to sit down and be very still, okay?” She instructs gently.

Remi eagers nods and hops onto the chair beside the bed, her little legs dangling off the edge as she waits in anticipation to hold Archie. Leah gently lifts the sleeping baby from his Moses basket, cradling his body with steady hands, though her heart feels anything but, as she slowly places him into Remi’s waiting arms.

“Hi, Archie,” Remi’s face lights up with pure delight, her grin stretching from ear to ear as she cradles her baby brother with such tender care in the world, “I’m Remi, I’m your big sister and I love you lots!” she whispers, her voice filled with awe.

“He loves you lots too, Rem,” Leah whispers back, her voice breaking just a little, how she wishes you were to see this, to be part of this moment.

“My turn next!” Esme declares, standing on her tiptoes, trying to peek over Remi’s shoulder, “My turn!” She repeats, a little too loud as Leah quickly hushes her with a finger to her lips.

“Soon, Essie Bear,” Leah promises, brushing a hand through Esme’s curly hair, “Remi’s just having a cuddle first, see?”

Esme nods eagerly, her face scrunched up in concentration as she watches her sister carefully, “Okay, I wait,” She whispers, “He’s cute, Mummy.”

“He is, isn’t he?” Leah agrees, her smile wobbly but genuine as she looks down at Archie before leaning down to kiss the top of Esme’s head, “He looks just like you when you were born as well. Tiny and perfect.”

As Leah watches her three children, she feels the weight of your absence, an ache that will never fully leave but she knows that no matter what, she needs to be strong for them now. Making sure that they never forget you, she will keep your memory alive in every way that she can.

Because even though you’re not here, your love is and Leah will make sure that’s enough.

© scribblesofagoonerr

[dannyfandomphd]

Moral purity and imaginative resistance as influencing factors in fandom 'anti' attitudes

Jessica Black et al.'s 2019 experiment on the correlation between enjoying dark/villainous characters, personal morality and purity beliefs, and imaginative resistance is so interesting when applying it to anti culture and fandom.

They created a Dark Character Scale where participants self-selected how strongly in agreement or disagreement they were with a series of statements about dark or villainous fictional characters. Some of these questions were the following:

"I enjoy films and books that feature main characters that choose morally questionable actions."

"I can often understand where the bad guys in fiction are coming from."

"My favourite fictional characters are morally ambiguous and often do horrible things."

They then utilised the Moral Foundations Questionnaire (Graham et al. 2011) to see what participants considered important when deciding on whether something is morally right or wrong, for example:

Whether or not someone suffers emotionally

Whether or not someone did something disgusting*

Whether or not someone was cruel

Whether or not someone was denied [their] rights

Whether or not someone acted in a way God would approve of*

as well as how strongly participants agreed or disagreed with statements such as:

Compassion for those who are suffering is the most crucial virtue

People should not do things that are disgusting, even if no one is harmed*

It can never be right to kill a human being

I would call some acts wrong on the grounds that they are unnatural*

Respect for authority is something all children need to learn.

One of the final scales participants used was the Black & Barnes (2017) Imaginative Resistance Scale. This is basically used to gauge how resistant the reader is to enjoying or consuming fictional content that contains characters, situations, or worldbuilding that they personally find morally disagreeable. They had to select how strongly they agreed/disagreed with questions like:

Reading books where bad things are depicted as morally acceptable makes me feel dirty

I just can't go along with a story when it violates my beliefs about morality

At times it feels like the author of a book is asking me to endorse actions that I know are wrong

Some things just shouldn't be done, even within a book

I sometimes cannot go along with a story when the "good" characters do morally reprehensible things

Sympathising with immoral characters makes me feel immoral myself.

Unsurprisingly, analysis of the data revealed that there was a strong correlation between disliking or not enjoying dark fictional characters or villains and having a higher purity morality score and more imaginative resistance.

They performed this test in three studies done on three completely different demographics - the first being mostly liberal women from social media sites, the second being mostly younger conservative college undergrads, and the third being adults split 50/50 in gender recruited from MTurk. All three studies showed that having stronger imaginative resistance and higher purity morality scores is directly linked to a lower score on the DCS - meaning that they would like or enjoy dark fictional characters and their actions less.

This tracks pretty well with what can be seen in the emerging anti culture within fandom:

Self-identified 'antis' are likely to agree strongly with the statements from the Imaginative Resistance Scale, and are more likely to score highly on the questions in Moral Foundations Questionnaire that are specifically demarcated as being concerned with purity (marked above with an asterisk *). This means that they are also, according to these studies, much more likely to disagree with dark fictional characters and their actions.

There is also a very interesting point in one of the discussions areas where Black et al. state "It is worth reiterating that the participants in Study 2 tended to be more conservative, and therefore potentially more likely to have greater concerns about moral purity" which tracks with what people in fandom have been saying about antis parroting conservative/puritan talking points and arguments.

What I find the most interesting is the following statement:

"However, moral purity and imaginative resistance are consistently positively correlated, both in the current studies and in prior research ... and are both likely to reflect a fear of moral contagion that would discourage people from identifying with and liking [dark fictional characters]."

This, when applied to antis, suggests that antis may harbor the subconscious belief that enjoying dark fictional content, and therefore being a 'proshipper', is literally psychically contagious. They may view this as some kind of moral disease which is spreading and infecting fandom, which could explain why they are so vehemently against it - fear. This is the puritan Moral Panic all over again.

Black et al. also discuss theories of fictional engagement and parasocial relationships/identification, and whether these studies is relevant to "when and for whom fictional engagement could have the potential to negatively affect real world attitudes or behaviour".

Jessica Black and Jennifer Barnes often publish articles together and have some incredibly interesting reading of morality and fiction that I'd be interested to see applied to fandom and anti culture in an academic setting. Perhaps some people in the field like Samantha Aburime (@rainystudios) are already looking into it - and I'm hoping I can do the same in my studies.

[smuttyaf]

Jasper Gentlemen’s Club

𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰; 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭

wc: 9.3k | part two of the business

“Treat yourself to something nice.”

Smile shines genuinely at the stack of blue bills falling into your grip. The heart of your customer pounds against your ear from the generous tip being gifted as you swiftly lean in pressing a kiss against his stubble cheek.

“I’ll surprise you,” You tease. His grip growing tighter against your hip at the gesture. “But that will just be our little secret.”

Following your movements he heads with you out of the dim decorative room. You depart from his side once leaving the elevator with faint ‘goodbye’ and his lingering touch trailing away from your waist. White train flows down your sides as you venture to the back of the establishment.

Heels click against the chestnut floorboard, the sound of lockers closing and gentle laughter fill your ears.

“Speaking of the devil,” Grace grins. Fishnets and lace peek under the usual feather robe. Her ginger hair sits in voluminous curls while her eyes are painted in black shadow.

Jasper Gentlemen’s Club, your place of employment for three years now. It’s a private upscale strip club to say in short, however it was the popular type of establishment catered for specific people; the elites and socialites of society, ranging from celebrities to politicians.

Already being high maintenance from the clientele that it specifically caters for, there were codes set in place to appease them. For example, always having proper upkeep of your appearance. Nails, toes, hair, lashes; everything had to be perfect. You were meant to look like a doll for your customers, suppose to be their escape from reality so you had to play the part perfectly. The second, would be no photography or video recording. It’s a no brainer but it was hounded into your mind, the only type of film the customers will ever be on is the security cameras. The situation being so serious everyone in the building had to sign non-disclosure agreements. And the last and final major rule, always being dressed in the renowned long tulle robe. Each dancer had this garment in every colour and pattern you can imagine, fluffy soft material making all your coworkers look like fairies dancing under the inky light.

Sometimes you couldn’t believe that this was your job. Working at this elegant spot and always looking stunning with your weekly manicures, pilates classes, and lash appointments. It was all that consumed your life aside from work. Even though you never thought you would find yourself in this position you couldn’t help but be happy about it. You struggled a lot during your teenage years, getting kicked out of your home at a such a young age you had to turn into an adult quickly. So you accept this lifestyle of greedy men and lustful hands, you much prefer it over the life you had before.

“You look like a sexy dominatrix,” You say glancing over her attire for the night.

Peeling open your purse, you let your tip money fall amongst the pile built up from your shift.

“You know me, you really know me!” Grace giggles with hand lying on her heart. You laugh at her expression while sitting at your vanity next to hers. “So… Do you remember the club owner I’ve been telling you about?” She ask, one arm place on the back of her chair as she faces you. You hum at her words nodding your head slowly.

She was boasting about this man that has been her new favourite of the month. Ranting about how he tips her generously and was the most handsome out of all her regulars. You’ve never took much notice of her roaster though, too indulged with your own you couldn’t really care about what her clients look like.

“He’s here and brought a friend… I may or may not have put in good words about you that he wants to meet,” Grace remarks with plucked eyebrows wiggling. It results with you shaking your head in disagreement.

“No thank you, I would like to go home to Cleo,” You sigh giving her an annoyed look. The desire to kick off these heels and curl against his fur freckle coat was all you wanted to do at the moment.

“Oh come on! Just one more before you leave!”

You twist your head at her words again. The clock was ten minutes away from your shift ending and you couldn’t wait for those numbers to dial in. Biting your lip you look at her.

“At least talk to him, I’m sure he’ll tip you for that… you know, because you’re just the sweetest girl in this joint.” Grace mocks Jasper’s southern voice. You roll your eyes at the reminder of him drunkly calling you one of his most prized employees during one the work anniversary parties.

“Fine, but you owe me.” Huffing with fingers tapping annoyingly at the vanity.

“Of course baby doll.”

You both touch up your makeup before going to the floor once more. It was Saturday night which meant it was busy, there was men litter by the bar while many sit amongst the lounge chairs, eyes all set on your coworkers performing their own little show for them before paying for the real thing. Her black train leads you towards the elevator, security smiling as you two step into the machine.

“Three please.” Grace smiles. The guard swiftly presses the number that brings you to the floor reserved for the most confidential people.

This makes you confused. If her client is just a club owner he couldn’t possibly be on this status? That can only mean the guest he brought with him has to be the one filling the role. If you could do a little dance in the space you would. Happy in your head thanking Grace for making you tag along but also causing you to wonder who it could be.

The elevator halts as you reach the floor. Both of you stepping out of the machine with robe swishing against your skin. White fluffy material tugs along the carpet as your heels echo in the hallway, eyes meeting the number of the door 323. The golden knob turns, allowing you both to step into the dim room.

Plum curtains pressed in baroque prints drape amongst the wall with stockard candles laminating the room, it gives sight on the two men standing each with glass of dark bourbon held in their hands.

Grace’s annoying rant about her regular being remarkably handsome is something you totally understand now, both look as if they could easily get sign and put on a runaway at any moment. One man holds a golden hue to his skin, black shiny hair slick under the lights, while the other has fair skin and luscious curls.

They stand in black suits fitting seamlessly against their bodies. The brown eyes of one man holds hues of caramel looking towards Grace while the other has beautiful emerald orbs that makes your breath catch in your throat.

She makes her way to the bronze man, feathers of her robe flutter under the lights. “Angelo, Y/N. Y/N, Angelo.” She introduce. You roll your eyes at her playfulness.

“Nice to meet you Y/N,” Deep Italian voice fills your ears as you smile curtly before giving the brunette next to him your attention.

Eyes watch the contour of his cheeks sink from his jaw tensing. His hair was short with loose ringlets weaving through, nose broad and standing high amongst the features of his chiseled face. He was enchanting, especially with the way he’s towering over you in this dim light, your cheeks begin to swell with heat from this foreign feeling brewing in.

Yes, you had plenty of handsome clients but never once did it make your heart sing a different tune. Your canine tooth pierces the corner of your mouth. The focus he has on you was more then just admiring ones appearance, it was as if he was devouring you.

The only thought passing through your head is hoping he can’t see your blushing cheeks as you play along to his daring gaze and let your alluring persona kick in.

“And who must you be?” You question, lashes look up at the man who still overshadows you in these tall heels.

“I’m shock you don’t know my name love,” Deep voice matching the same tone as his friend. It causes waves of arousal to flow through you.

“Don’t mind her, she’s doesn’t involve herself in small talk here,” Grace interjects, her hand sliding on Angelo’s suited shoulder while stepping into his body.

“Oh? Just my kind of woman then.” The brunette smirks. Those words make your ears tingle and grow red.

Jesus Christ get it together! You think to yourself. This is your new client, not some cute guy at the club, reel in your feelings and do your job.

“Told you to trust me Harry… now have fun you two,” Grace sings, hand slipping and locking with Angelo as she tugs him out.

The sound of the door closing is met with the slow hum of The Weeknd that fills the atmosphere, your heart is pounding in your ears with smile shining on your lips. Timid palms glazed over with sweat run over the white train of your robe.

This was so unlike yourself to be shy around men, especially with your profession after these few years, but now it was as if you can’t even control your nerves. You want to jump his bones and study every inch of him.

“Harry?” You say, body leaning into him and immediately smelling his expensive cologne, Baccarat Rouge. Your favourite mens cologne. Yeah, this was going to be difficult.

“Harry Styles,” He clarifies, eyes drinking you in as you move closer.

Your hand leaves your robe and feels over his collar to roam down his chest to feel over the buttons there. Applying pressure you gently shove him back a few steps before he’s against the familiar sofa, his knees bend with back falling softly against the cushions, your body now towering over his seated position.

The way he’s staring at you made the blood running through your veins thump with urgency to regulate your heart. A closed off part of you is unravelling itself just from looking at this man.

“Let me help you relax, Mr. Styles.” Pushing his legs apart with your thigh, your hips begin to sway to the music in the air. Nails going to the ribbon and playing with the bow.

Teasingly letting the smooth material slide between your fingertips, you move to the soft voice of the artist through the space, head lolling back seductively as you begin to unravel the string, your white embellished lingerie set reveals itself when you let the garment slowly cascade down your arms to rest in the hollow of your elbows.

Intricate fabric displays your busty breasts smooth with light sparkles dazzling under the lights, the floral lace design sits tight against your hips as your thighs rub against each other from each swing. Besides your waist moving so confidently with each stride, you can’t get over the way you feel so timorous.

Harry gaze is practically looking through you, observing every alluring movement that you do. The gentle press of your hands run up his thighs, your hips twisting side by side as you make your way between his legs, nails dragging into the thick fabric of his suit while doe eyes look up at him with playful smirk on your glossy lips.

His chest inhales deeply, knuckles turning white as he strains his hands by his side. The look in your gaze makes him want to groan hungrily, especially due to the position you’re lingering in. Nails trail into his thighs dreadfully to the slow symphonies in the background. He bites down on his bottom lip, body shifting under your eyes as you begin to rise up, swaying your waist back to your original position.

You continue to be enticing, hands running up your body as you turn around let your robe venture further down your arms to rest by your wrists, plump backside set in the air as you continue provoking him.

These movements were nothing new, especially with the way you allow yourself to fall deeper into his body and begin to dance in his lap, hair falling across your face you when rub yourself slowly against his obvious erection. Although, performing this sequence over hundreds of times your heart was beating erratically in your chest with mind racing with millions of thoughts. Thoughts you never had before ever since you’ve started working here, this new found feeling as if discovering Pandora’s Box.

You try to ignore the glint in his eyes, the way they hungrily look over every inch of your body, staring as if knowing what’s brewing in your mind.

Harry’s hand peels away from the velvet seat going to your moving hips, pulling you deeper against his embrace with head lying in the crook your neck, breath warm against your ear as you continue your teasing.

“No touching… you know this,” You scold. But despite the taunt you don’t move his hands, instead you slide your fingers on his knees increasing your ruthless movements.

You hear the groan that erupts from him lowly, nails curling into your skin as you push further into him. Turning your head slightly you nearly brush your lips together, it leads you to stutter at the close encounter. The mistake in your movements so distinct that you know he felt it, and if the lights weren’t such a dim glow he would see the way your eyes flare up at the near moment of kissing him.

“But you like it? Don’t you?” Harry purrs in your ear, heart fluttering at the rasp in his voice.

Rather than burrowing deeper into his touch you draw away from his reciprocating moves, his hands falling to his sides as he smirks up at you, expression shining with amusement.

Smile toying on your lips you straddle his thigh, hands running up his arms to curl around his shoulders. Everything about him was driving you crazy; the colour of his eyes, the cologne drawing you in, the material of his suit that feels smooth under your touch. You want him on top of you in every way possible.

As if catching a glimpse into your mind his hands find themselves back on your hips, compelling you to halt your previous movements of swivelling circles to drag roughly down his thigh. Your clit pressing tightly between the material of your panties to his rough motions that it makes you moan surprisingly.

Immediately biting down on your lip you can’t help but lean forward towards his face, his hands still moving you along his body, inching you closer and closer towards him. Nose brush against each other in the rush exchange just as lips nearly touch. You quietly whimper at the feeling of his nails digging into your hips. His mouth parting slightly as if trying to breathe in the sound you release.

You want so badly to lean in and discover the way he tastes. Honestly, you would do anything to have him cocooned around you in this moment, but unfortunately those thoughts don’t overshadow the reality of why you’re both in this room right now.

Skimming your tongue over your bottom lip, your teeth bite deeply into the flesh continuing to let him control your movements, his eyes still staring at you as he watches you restrain yourself from showing pleasure.

“How much you charge for the night?”

The words hang in the air causing your face to draw away from his, mouth parting in surprise as your expression resembles disappointment. You should really laugh at yourself. Did you think he was different than the rest? That the possessive look he has on you meant something more? You barely even know the man and your heart jumps for joy just at the appearance. You’re so naive, so stupid to really think he would see you differently.

“I —I don’t do that.” You mumble, pulling further away from him as you divert your gaze.

The tension that was once a teasing attraction between the both of you now is strained, the hum of the song concluding in the background sounds in the atmosphere while Harry’s grip relaxes realizing your change of emotion.

“Oh? I just thought…”

“You thought wrong.”

Heels balance yourself back on your feet. Arms trailing down the expanse of his as you faintly smile at him, your hands gather the sleeves of your robe around your wrist and drape it back over your shoulders, fingers lacing the ribbon together as the speaker occupying the room begins to play another song.

“It was nice meeting you sir.” You hush, faint smile tugging amongst your lips even though your face reads as if someone stomped on your dreams.

“Hold on now, let me apologize. I didn’t mean to offend you in anyway.” Harry confesses, his hands that were once on your skin reach out to draw you into his touch, however you step back.

It didn’t matter how he was going to form his words to express his regret about the invasive question. Whether he tried to say it in the nicest way or simplest terms, you know how he sees you. Just like your other clients; their little play thing that they want to unwrap to see more skin under the fabric.

It’s why you care little about the words you hear regularly. It’s expected of you even if it wasn’t something you offer. Yet, even when hearing it so many times, it still hurt that you were always perceived that way.

“None taken, have a good night.” You conclude the conversation.

Swiftly turning around you ignore the irritated expression on his face from your words, as you exit the room you try not to think of Harry and the blooming feeling of his presence captivating you.

“You shouldn’t have such high expectations.”

Sparkling wine dazzles under the chandelier lights when Grace brings the glass to her lips. She rolls her eyes faintly as she drinks back the sweet liquid, all you can do is turn the noodles in your pasta out of boredom.

“You know that’s not it.” You sigh, fingers fiddling with the fork and slouching your head on your hand.

“Oh come on!” It’s her turn to exhale tirelessly with annoyed smile on her lips. “I say you let him have what he wants, see what you can get out of him.”

Of course she would say that because she provides that type service but, you on the other hand didn’t. You never look at Grace differently because of it but she would always comment on just letting certain clients pay for sex, little jabs about doing these favours especially since it charges more. Yes, it would be easy to receive such superficial things out of those gestures but you desire more than that, which she knew tremendously.

“You know that’s not my thing.” Letting your fork scrape against the red sauce in your plate.

“Yes that’s what you say but you’re so infatuated with him, just give it a chance you never know what you can get from Mr. Mafia himself?”

“Mr. What?”

Eyes nearly bulge out of your face as if you were a cartoon character. The metal instrument in your hand drops from your grasp with your head raising off your hold in complete shock. Harry was in the mafia? Now you’re just finding out about this?!

“Oops? I thought I told you,” Grace reveals as if it’s so normal to forget.

“Are you serious?” You remark, eyes stuck on the way she shrugs her shoulders nonchalantly.

“Yes very serious, now relax. Some of our clients don’t have the best professions either.” She points out raising her eyebrows, and to that you nod in agreement.

You breathe in deeply, hands reaching out to grab your drink and take generous sips from discovering this new found information. This beautiful man with sweet colour eyes and soft curls was part of something dangerous. You never thought about what he could possibly do for work but that was definitely not one of them.

“But yes, the man you’re so in love with is in fact part of the mafia.”

“How do you know this?”

“If you spend enough time around drunk Jasper you’ll find out anything babe.”

Laughing faintly you agree to that, he was always the most honest when intoxicated.

“He was telling me about Angelo as a new client, how he’s some club owner laundering money for someone related to Luciano, some mob boss? I don’t know, never heard of that guy, but! When I met Angelo the first time at work… and well after work too, he was always having someone call him under Styles, one time I caught him talking to him on the phone, something about money so I just put two and two together.”

You bite down on your lip, eyes falling away from her hazel ones and to your unattended bolognese. Money laundering? Hopefully that’s the worse he’s ever done, but the inkling feeling roaming in the back of your mind tells you it’s not. Why should you even care though? This false hope that he’ll actually want you is slim, so why even try to care about what he does.

“I’m telling you girl, with the amount of money he probably brings in you should give it some thought.” Grace sends you another look as she continues eating.

Rolling your eyes again you bring the wine glass back to your lips. This conversation was steering its usual direction and frankly you were over it, you need to shove your heart back in your chest and forget these ridiculous ideas.

“Well if this isn’t a coincidence.”

Both of your sights catch on the same men you saw last night, especially on the specific man who is the topic of the conversation. Harry is now standing right in front of you still looking remarkably handsome as ever. This time he was dressed in a navy blue suit that brought out a gentle tone in his eyes. If you weren’t in this restaurant you would probably take up Grace’s words and get on your knees in this moment.

It doesn’t take long for you to feel the heat rush to your cheeks, and unlike the gentlemen’s club the lights inside this restaurant are brightly lit around the room, only highlighting the flush to your skin. Diverting your gaze, you continue to tip the alcohol into your mouth as cheery laughter beams from Grace when she looks between Angelo and you.

“It’s good to know we all have taste,” She humours, while you decide to swallow back the sweet fluid and place your drink back in its previous place.

Your sight darts from your drink to the napkin with extra cutlery to avoid the unwanted attention burning on your face. You know it’s Harry practically boring holes into you, so heavy that you don’t even want to look up and see him. You just willow in Grace’s conversation doing everything to ignore contact.

That’s until weight presses on the back of your chair, the smell of him fills your nose as he practically buries his head into the side of your neck. You’re completely taken back at the gesture, head turning slightly to make distance.

“Are you going to hold onto my mistake forever?” Harry ask, voice low and assertive that you feel your cheeks grow even brighter.

Pulling away from his embrace you scan his face as he straightens his back peering down at you. He studies your appearance in reciprocation to your detecting gaze, as if wanting to know every dip and curve that roams the expanse.

“No.”

“Are you always this cold then?”

“Maybe.”

Finally breaking the stare down you turn towards Grace who smiles sheepishly Angelo way before looking towards you. Sight flickering between Harry retreating next to his friend.

“See you soon.” Grace shines watching the two step away and head to their table.

As soon as they’re out of sight you clench your teeth, fury completely combing through you at the sudden intrusion of the night.

“Ease up on him.” She laughs. It makes you sigh dramatically, reaching over and finishing your glass of wine.

“I want a shot,” You declare. It makes Grace erupt in even more laughter only making you join along. This night was full of surprises.

“For once would you take my advice?”

Monday evening is slow; music transitioning between easygoing temp to dreadful paste. You book a couple private rooms in the beginning of your shift, flirt with some men on the floor to find some entertainment throughout the night, till you’re now in the back room listening to Clarissa and Lucy rant about their evening.

“I told Simon to let Jasper know I’m not taking him anymore and he persists on me keeping him!” Clarissa groans in annoyance hand hitting the leather sofa with frustration. Her energy radiates annoyance.

“Simon probably didn’t even ask, he’s just saying that… you know how he is,” Lucy responds with an eye roll only making you laugh at the exchange.

“I heard that!” Simon strides into the room with clipboard in hand and sharing knowing glances between each girl.

“Lucy you have private room eighty-six, Y/N you have confidential in three-hundred and twenty-three, and Clarissa you’re on the floor in five! No one should be in the back room on slow nights, you ladies all know this.” The statement only causes the group to exchange displeased expressions.

Clarissa and Lucy stand from the couch and make their way towards their own respective vanities while you get out of your seat and move towards the club manager.

“Confidential?” You question, following him as he begins to walk out the room.

“Yes, same gentleman as your last shift so don’t keep him waiting, quickly now,” His voice rush as he takes your wrist softly in his hand and drags you to the elevator, he sends tight limp smile towards the security guard before nodding his head and stepping away.

Same gentleman as last time. Harry wants to see you again? Even yesterday after the attitude you put up? The thoughts erupt in your mind with each of ding of the elevator. Different emotions course through as you make steps towards the familiar door.

You know you shouldn’t get your hopes up. He’s just like all of your regulars who simply want to see you, another of your clients. Nothing he can say or do will make you change your mind.

Fingers curl around the door knob, you relax your shoulders and let an alluring smile spread on your strawberry colour lips. The bubbling anxiety rumbles in your stomach as you retrieve the door open and move deeper into the room.

He sat on the diamond encrusted sofa, white button up with few undone to reveal ink roaming amongst his collar bones. His back is against the seat with arms laid amongst the sculpted frame, one hand free while the other held a glass of dark liquor. Even though he was sluggishly sitting along the chair, the way his hair was in messy curls and gaze falling to every step you make towards him, you shiver in excitement.

“Mr. Styles.” You smirk, concealing the feelings that spark in you.

Harry’s eyes venture down the expanse of your appearance, lingering extremely long on the way your hips sway, to them eventually staring even longer at your lips while you look down on him. His tongue escapes his mouth to run over his flesh, the hand occupying his drink brings it to his lips.

You let your eyes reciprocate his actions, staring longingly at this disheveled appearance; you admire how charming he looks relax with his ruffled curls and roaming eyes. You want to reach out and brush your hand across his skin but instead you let them slide down your waist comfortably.

“You look good in red.” Harry comments locking sight and smirking at you. His hands twirl the ice cubes in his empty glass that echoes in the space.

Smiling faintly at the compliment, you bow your head at the acknowledgment. “Thank you sir.”

Harry draws his other hand off the frame, fingers reaching into his breast pocket feeling over the contents before pulling out two blue bills. The warmth of his palm melts against your skin as it slips through the space in your robe and slides it into the band of your panties.

“Fill up my glass.”

He’s pushing it into your hand, voice so demanding it makes you confuse at the change of tone. You welcome the cool feel of it before turning around and going to the serving bar located in the room.

With your movements unscrewing the bottle to pour the contents, you hear ruffling from behind. Your heart beats so intensely it begins to give you chest pains. Circling back on your heels and making your way towards Harry, you see another few bills between his fingers as you hold his drink in front of him.

“Sit down.”

You oblige taking the seat next to him, mind completely confused on the change of his behaviour. You know your attitude yesterday may have been uncalled for but this was a different type of treatment. His presence being so cold yet inviting, you can’t tell if you’re scared by him or not.

The hand resting along the couch occupied with papers between his fingers run along the strap of your bra, he tucks the bills there while his gaze goes back to admiring you.

“What are you doing?” You ask, welcoming the his palm going to your breast to feel up your neck and grip your jaw with dominance.

“Do you forgive me?”

Threaded brows press together completely dropping your suggestive demeanour, eyes going to his suited pants until his grip tightens and directs your attention back to his.

“Is that what this is?” You continue, gaze running over the way his jaw flexes. “This money for my forgiveness. I’ve heard worse things in my field of work sir but, I’m very appreciative of the gesture.”

Your hand trails away from your thigh and drags along his knee, body leaning into this scent as you completely fall into your thoughts of this handsome man before you.

“So you don’t forgive me.” Harry responds coolly, the pads of his fingers sink deeper into your skin.

“I don’t care.” You state. Clenching down on your teeth while he releases his hold on your jaw. He rolls his eyes at your words, bringing the glass to his lips.

“You’re so frustrating.”

The comment causes your expression to grow with annoyance.

“Do you want me to dance or not?” Attitude clear in your tone as the palm of your hand continues to glide down the expanse of his thighs.

“No. I just want you to sit there.”

“Why?”

“You’ve been running away from me. So, I’m paying you not to.”

Swallowing hesitantly the previous motions you draw on his skin pause. Sight tearing away from him and falling to your polish nails. Well, aren’t you stuck. Sitting against these velvet seats with erratic heart and sweaty palms. The light beat of the song playing through the space between you both only intensifies the atmosphere even more. The ice smashing against his glass every few moments as Harry brings the drink to his lips.

“What do you want?” You say after a few minutes, fingers fiddling together when you look up at him.

“Isn’t it obvious already?” His voice still lace with frustration as he turns his head.

“You.”

Cheeks burn bright with mouth parting, the emotions he makes you feel… he was also feeling them as well. You distract yourself urgently flickering your eyes between him, trying to collect your words wisely.

“You don’t even know me.” The sentence not causing his gaze to waver. He’s still looking at you with this stone glare.

“So… tell me about yourself.” Harry suppresses the irritation in his voice as he rises his brow.

“Are you serious?” Completely surprised at the change of events.

“Very, now do tell.” Drink in hand gesturing for you to begin.

Suddenly that’s how you spend the rest of your night, introducing yourself to Harry. It range from telling him how you begin working at Jasper’s to how you grew up, and when your mind would dwindle he would ask you his own questions.

“How do you take your coffee?”

“Two creams one sugar.”

“Favourite food?”

“I love Thai.”

And without the disturbance of Simon ushering you to another room after your extended stay with Harry, you grow comfortable. Relaxing in his embrace and answering anything that came to his mind.

This connection that was clouding your judgment is too good to be true, from the introduction of your meeting to the the way your head is nestle in the crook of his neck, you thrive in the affection. Not listening to your overthinking thoughts that stir you in the wrong direction.

Instead, you let him know everything he wants; you tell him your favourite colour and how you like your steak cooked, to even confiding to him about certain clients you weren’t exactly keen of. The fact that you’ve only known the man for three days and was telling him your whole life story was beyond what you could imagine at the moment, he makes you relax and feel acknowledged. It was nice to feel this way after three years.

Since that night Harry began to make his appearance throughout the week. The same room, for the same time, in the exact same position as last. With each meeting he never let you dance or even suggest it, instead he let you talk whether it was anything on your mind or his, that’s how you spent your evenings.

His presence was relief during your hectic week, depending on your availability between clients you spend as much time as possible in his touch and finding serenity in the way his voice soothes you.

It was now Sunday and you were off, deciding on staying in tonight and catching up on Real Housewives. You sat in your loft with Cleo tuck on your lap, fingers digging into the bag of popcorn while the other reaches towards your ringing phone.

“Hello!” You sing, eyes caught on the dinner scene happening before you.

“Not in today?” The voice on the other line making your body shiver with excitement.

“No sorry, I don’t work Sundays… I should’ve told you.” You confess, guilt brews of him going to the club and not finding you there.

“No worries, what are you doing now?”

Eyebrows rise up on your forehead with deep breath releasing, you flick your eyes around immediately taking your hand out of the popcorn bag to grab the remote and lower the volume, body straightening up as you sink your teeth into your lip.

“Miss me already?” Fingers falling to your plump flesh as smirk pulls on the skin. Harry’s laugh sounds through the speaker, the happy cheer making your heart leap.

“Yes. Yes I do, how can I not?” Lashes flutter with smile beaming shyly.

Maybe this was all too good to be true. Maybe this was just a fleeting moment that Harry is having; booking you six nights out of the week, paying you to refill his glass and converse with him. Maybe he was just going through phases, maybe he just thought of you as another one of his toys. But this attention was one you couldn’t pass up; the way he admires at you, the feel of his hands gracing your body for sheer moments, the reassurance of his words when speaking your thoughts. After years of petty affection and surface base material, this for once felt different. It felt genuine even if you’ve only known him within such short time.

“Are you home?” Are his next words to break the silence.

“Yes,” You answer, fingers trailing from your lips to run into your hair nervously.

“Can I come over?” Heart practically melting in your chest at the suggestion.

“Yes.” With blooming hues of pink roaming amongst your cheekbones.

Eager emotions flood your body as you voice your address to him before ending the call. Your hand drops the remote and gently moves Cleo off your lap as you escape towards your room.

What the hell did you get yourself into and what the hell are you even suppose to wear? Your outfit currently being an oversized t-shirt and gym shorts will certainly not do the job as you venture into your closet; skimming over hoodies and dresses. You end on grabbing your two piece yoga set hoping it will suffice compared to how you look throughout the week.

Sitting in front of your vanity you immediately comb through your hair and brush through your lashes. Nerves coursing through your body at Harry coming over. The unusual excitement of getting worked up for seeing someone revels in your mind, you skim over your features intricately to look for something off when you know that there wasn’t anything. There is this need to look your absolute best for him, even you know you already do.

Huffing slightly at the thoughts running through your mind you get up and make your way out of the room and head into the kitchen, fingers immediately lighting candles and then running quickly to the couch to begin folding the blanket you once laid on. If you were being recoded right now you would laugh at how you run across the spacious condo to make sure everything looks in place.

With ideas of the night ahead bombarding your mind the familiar sound of the buzzer quakes in the room making your heart drop. You step away from the couch and move towards the door, hand pressing the button to let him in.

This feeling was as if you were a teenager all over again. These dreamy aspect of emotions being as if you saw your high school crush passing in the hallway. It’s been three years without mental or physical affection, this new found treatment from someone was making you drunk off happiness.

With these nerves overcoming you, the urgency for alcohol to sooth your system lingers in your mind making you go over to your fridge and take out the chilling wine to soon tug your body over to your glass rack and pull two off, you’re setting them on the table when there’s knocking at the door.

Taking a deep breath you count to three, making your way over and unlocking it. Grin toying on your lips with Harry revealing himself adorn in his black suit.

Chest quakes with each pump of your heart as his lips mirror your happiness. Widening the door you let him step into your home, body turning to shut the door before letting your smile turn nervous.

“I know you drink whisky but I only have wine for tonight.” You stammer, body making your way over to the island and gesturing to the bottle of Prosecco.

Harry looks over the bottle, his eye soon falling on yours with smirk appearing. “I’ll have a glass.”

Control motions peel open the new bottle and fill each cup. He takes his drink in hand before humming at the taste.

“Enjoy reality tv?” The question only makes the warmth in your cheek spread further as you look at the television screen displaying women throwing drinks and overturning the table.

“Oh… um… yes,” You stumble over your words, avoiding Harry’s eyes as he chuckles next to you.

“Flustered are we?” He points out, body bumping into you teasingly.

“This is what you came over to do then, just make me a blabbering mess in my own home.” You pout, sight moving away from the granite counter as you lift the wine glass to your lips and look at him.

Amuse expression shines over his face while he shrugs his shoulders in response. “It does make things more interesting.”

“Interesting?” You recite in his own tone.

His hand that rest along the counter passes through the space between you both to let his palm venture down your waist.

“Yes… interesting how displeased with me you were at first yet having this look of want in your eyes.” Your gaze blares, confusion written all over your face while you relax deeper into his touch.

“I —I feel it too.” He’s hesitant before clearing his throat, lashes flutter against the hollows of his eyes as he collects himself. “This pull to be next to you… it’s unexplainable… ever since the first night.”

The words Harry formulates as if he’s just letting his heart expel everything he’s been building up over the week. It makes the one in your chest thunder with admiration.

“And I shouldn’t have said those things… it’s so stupid but my mind went blank and I just…” His brows push together trying to collect his thoughts properly. “The night I saw you at the restaurant it made me realize I really fuck up. I don’t want to do that with you ever again. I want you to trust me, I want you to love me, I want you to—“

But you immediately cut him off letting your emotions spring in and press your lips against his. Wine stain flesh burns on each other as gracious pecks transform into tongues joining together. The hand that trail down your hips run over your backside.

The heat that he expels when he steps deeper as if shielding you with protection has you moaning against him, head tilting slightly to invite the arousal blooming.

As his palm moves further the surprise of his grip tightening around your ass makes you jump, the hand that was wrapped around your glass bumping against the underside of it causing it to tip over.

“Fuck!” The crashing sound of it smacking against the counter makes you part away from him. “I’m so sorry.” You breathe out. Leaving his embrace to go to the paper towel dispenser and beginning to clean the mess. Cheeks burning even brighter from knocking over your wine.

“Relax baby,” Harry coos, hands falling on your nervous ones as you clean up the puddle.

Laughing shyly you shake your head embarrassed by your behaviour.

“You make me anxious,” The confession falling out of your mouth effortlessly as you collect the drench paper.

His palms grip your fingers tightly causing your gaze to catch with his. Instead of an irritated expression he shares one of amusement and adoration.

“Likewise.”

And ever since that night the connection between you both grows stronger; Harry visits during your shifts to meeting you right afterwards. Coming home to bouquet of roses and designer bags, sending you black trucks to take you out to dinner or meeting with you at Bottega Veneta to piece together an outfit for him.

Two weeks of knowing Harry and he was already dazzling you with the most extravagant gifts but still remaining respectful and never letting you dance when he visit the club. You’re absolutely head over heels. He’s always kind and gentle with you, never pushing your boundaries and soothing you with his words. This affection was a breath of fresh air and you’re undoubtedly happy about it.

Although the regard to respect you was admirable, you were beginning to crave more than cherish kisses and subtle touches. A plan brewed in your mine once your eyes peeled open this morning and you decided to put it in motion tonight. So, as you sit in front of your vanity of the club you fix the straps of your embroidered charcoal bra and look over yourself in the mirror.

“Who might you be expecting?” Clarissa calls from across the room. Your glossy lips don’t hesitate to smile as you look towards her.

“I told you about Harry, right?” You remark, letting your fingers run under the band of the bra to fit more comfortable against your skin.

“Oh! That’s who has you in a good mood lately,” Lucy joins in, jet black hair framing her face in layers with smirk written all over her features.

“If you say so,” You sing, turning around in your chair to look over yourself again.

“Don’t think we haven’t been seeing your post lately,” Clarissa marvels while drumming her fingers against the table.

“So generous with his gift-giving,” Lucy continues in her playful tone, only making you giggle.

The heavy steps of Simon thunder against the oak flooring as he makes his way into the room. Head set intact with clip board in hand, he begins to give everyone knowing looks assuring everyone of their duties tonight.

“And Y/N, you have your regular in confidential.” He finishes at the end of his list before turning to usher the ladies onto the floor from the back room.

“Have fun babe, be safe.” Clarissa whispers when passing you with gentle hug.

You smile at her while nodding with assurance. Looking over yourself, you tie your robe together, lips running over one another before stepping out of your chair and making your way towards the familiar room.

Even with spending so many days with Harry, these emotions that quake whenever he’s mention or to soon bare his presence always resonate these deep feelings; this need to feel his touch rougher on your skin or feel him in the sweet places that you think of him most. You knew this was beyond the earlier arrangements of your first initial meeting, this meant more.

Cigarette smoke roams the air as you make your way towards him. He’s in his usual spot, tailor suit gracing his appearance beautifully as you smile at him. Manicure nails drag against the material while his hands feel over your covered hips.

“Hi angel.” Harry says while feeling over your body.

“Baby,” You purr, moving deeper into his touch. “I have a question for you.”

His features raise in question but doesn’t stop his wondering hands from pulling the ribbon of your robe apart and revealing your body to him.

He hums attentively, looking over your face as he continues to roam over your skin. You’re so enthralled by his touch that you nearly forget your plan.

“Tell me how I make you feel.” Statement leaving your mouth with fingers roaming up his neck and playing with the hair there.

Forest eyes flash with worship as his grip tightens against your waist.

“I feel like you’re made for me.” Knees push his apart as you step between his legs.

“I swear you just take my breath away.” Head craning down for your lips to trail kisses along his cheeks to his jaw.

“You’ve imprint my heart so deeply.” Your hands find themselves running over his chest while his roam over your backside.

“That your love feels undeserving for someone like me.” Those words making you swell with sympathy as kisses continue down the curve of his neck.

“It’s so intense I just have to be near you.” Fingers undoing the few buttons of his shirt as you begin to sink to your knees. His eyes lock on you while his hands link together in your hair, the smooth symphony in the air only escalates the tension.

“Feel you.” He continues, eyes fluttering as your hands move away from his chest to feel over his thighs.

“Hear you.” Your fingers glaze over his erection as you both look at each other with lust.

“Be inside you.” Nails dragging roughly over the print with mascara coated lashes batting up at him.

“Tonight’s your lucky night.” You cut him off. Smirk smoothing over your lips as you begin to undo his belt buckle. “Let me help you relax, Mr. Styles.”

Shifting under your hold he watches you retrieve him out of his boxers. Tongue immediately escapes your mouth looking at how thick and heavy he sits in your hand. It makes pure arousal quake between your thighs as you tug him gently, eyes catching with his.

“Been holding out on me.” It’s his turn to send you a smirk. The look alone makes you want to skip foreplay and take him right there.

You lean in with tongue running from the base to the tip. Pressing flat against the underside it leaves trail of saliva in its wake, your mouth enveloping the crown of his cock while his chest raises with pure satisfaction. His hands continuing to run through your hair.

Pleasant moan vibrates through your throat as your mouth ventures down the expanse of him, tastebuds savouring the salty flavour with each descend of your mouth as you find your paste.

Both of you are still set in this hyper-focus trance looking at each other with the pleasing gestures you assert over him. Spit coating his member as you glide down his cock, plump lips wrapping around his girth as you swallow him down.

“S’good,” Harry slurs, one hand leaving your hair to drag along your neck.

Lashes flutter up at him, relishing in the blissful look crossing his face. He slides down your throat effortlessly with your head bobbing swiftly, his cock wrapped in the slick space of your mouth.

Your clit throbs between your legs, the need to have attention there stirs your next movements as you let your hands glide across his thighs and gather his twin globes into your palm and begin massaging them.

The gesture has Harry groaning, nails gliding down your skin in the change in motions. Eye contact breaking as his head falls against the couch with chest rising in urgency. The site alone makes you want to come, but instead you suffice for the whimper that leaves your mouth when letting yourself glide back up his cock.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl,” Harry moans, fingers trailing away from your neck to collect your hair in his palm.

The comment makes your stomach tremble, his hands following your gracious movements, with sweat beginning to shine from his temples as he chews away on his lip.

“Look at me baby,” He coos, his hold tugging your mouth away from him. Diverting your attention you look up at him; red eyes with saliva glistening across your lips as shaky breath escapes.

“So pretty for me,” Harry utters, thumb running across your bottom lip as his green eyes search your face. “Stand up, get this off.” He reaches over to tug on your robe.

You raise off your knees letting the garment trail off your shoulders as you stand. You’re immediately letting your feet kick off your tall heels, pleasantly sighing at the relaxing comfort at having them off.

The next motions are your hands teasingly pulling your panties down, Harry’s eyes watching every movement as he watches you unclasp your bra next.

His hands reach out for you, feeling over your soft skin as pulls you into him. Straddling his thighs your fingers go to his chest to pull his blazer off, he quickly follows your lead to take it off the rest of the way while you decide to continue undoing the buttons of his dress shirt.

“I want to feel you.” You breathe against his skin.

Gripping his cock in your hand, you gently let him glide between your folds. Harry nods earnestly against your chest, his hold moving from your waist to your breasts, his lips pressing against your fever skin as you let yourself sink down on him. High pitch whimper drawing from your throat as he stretches you out.

“You drive me crazy,” Harry utters with grip tightening as your hips meet each other.

A soft cry releases from your lips as you find the strength to raise back up on your knees and grind yourself into his lap. The thick strain of his dick against your walls has your head falling into his face.

Erotic moans fill the room when your hips discover the perfect rhythm that has him dragging down your folds in the most beautiful way with the combination of him reaching depths of pure bliss.

Harry hand trail away from your breasts and wrap around your throat, rough grasp taking ahold of you as he brings you deeper into his face. From the grip he has to the haunting look in his eyes you are completely devoid of every sense in your body.

“Good girl.” He continues, his thighs positioning himself better on the couch as he begins to thrust and meet your hips in perfect unison.

The name makes your frantic heart gush with devotion, eyes fluttering at the air shortening in your lungs while your nails curl around his shoulders digging into his skin.

“So good for me.” Harry rasps, his merciless strides into your pussy halting your previous movements.

The sweet nectar you produce between your legs sound with each thrust from the satisfying pleasure coursing through you. The static of your climax catches in the pit of your stomach, your eyes rolling from how deep he’s in you that you can’t help but lunge forward.

Lips connecting fiercely with the taste of him making you hum as your tongue explores him. The rough grip he holds around your neck relaxes as he continues his frantic thrusts.

The spark of your release climbs up your spine with fury; head tilting back, eyes fluttering in the thrill of falling apart around him. Your walls quiver in irritated satisfaction as your climax barrels over in passionate rage.

“Tell me…” Harry breathes when pulling away from your face, his eyes watching your dazed out state. Your fingers go numb against his shoulders, with your head completely being propped up by the hold he still has over your throat. “Tell me how I make you feel.”

Completely intoxicated with satisfaction of your release you let your lips begin to pepper kisses along his jaw. The urge to prove to him how much he means to you in this moment has your pussy meeting his rhythmic thrusts.

“Like I’m on fire,” You moan, nails digging into the material of his soaked button up.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to feel you inside me,” Urging him with the seductive tone in your voice. The hands he has wrapped around your neck tenses as he looks at you completely intrigued.

“I —It feels so good,” You whimper as you slowly rock yourself down his length. “You feel so good baby.”

Deep throaty growl shivers over your embrace as his head relaxes deeper into the frame of the couch.

“I want you like this forever.”

The flex of your slick walls around him earns a delicious moan from him. His seed painting your walls effortlessly as you continue to work yourself through his climax. Your fingers travel to his hair and bring your lips back together.

Harry releases his hold from your throat, his palms venturing down your sides and massaging the skin as you lazily ride him. Body relaxing against his comfort as you welcome his kisses.

“Do you even know how weak you make me feel.” Harry breathes against your lips, hands gripping your ass roughly to push you deeper into his chest.

“No… but I like when you tell me.”

[psblooms]

how can my day be bad when I’m with you?

‧₊˚♡���� enhypen hyung line x fem reader fluff works word count: 792 comfort in a bad day from them to you, established relationship, non-idol au contains: skinship, kissing, petnames, the couple lives together

after a long day at work heeseung ๋࣭  ࣪𓍼 would come home and immediately sense something was off, most of the days when you arrived first you’d wait for him in the living room after changing your clothes. so seeing you in your pajamas with your headphones on, laying on the bed, and showing him your back threw him off. while you did tend to shut down when you felt under the weather, it had been a long time since it happened.

he´d be quick to keep you company because as much as he knew you he knew this meant you did not want to talk yet. he´ll join you on the bed and cuddle you. no words were needed, he would still be in his work clothes and he knew that there would be a conversation later but he did not care. he wanted you to know that he was there with you physically present and ready to hear about your day. so you will spend a good amount of time in silence just feeling each other's warmth, and holding each other in the dusk of the day.

"we can talk whenever you're ready love, I'm not leaving."

your relationship with jongseong ๋࣭  ࣪𓍼 was a really simple/domestic one, with not a lot of emotional ups and downs or disagreements, it was a calm relationship at the end of the day and perfect for the both of you, however, it did take you both a long time to learn not to bottle everything up, it was a common agreement that the communication was something you needed to get better at.

therefore you were well aware - and it was easy to find solace in the fact - that, whenever you had a hard day at work or at life in general you could just talk to him at the end of the day to air out all your unconformities and your partner will be willing to listen to you with a warm beverage in the living room floor. you liked to think that you could hate on life together and find the little good things in it: like you two, together in a warm atmosphere of pure comfort in each other's company even if the world outside was tearing each other down.

"thanks for telling me honey, I'm always here to listen to your worries."

jaeyun ๋࣭  ࣪𓍼 loves seeing you and being close to you, he loves having your attention and sharing everything with you, you always had an easy time matching each other's energy. so whenever you had a bad day when your heart felt heavy and your insides felt empty jake knew you were going through it just by seeing your eyes, he was quick-witted and knew exactly what to do.

he would drag you to bed after a long tiring day and lay you down, he is your emotional support person and you would not need a weighted blanket in his presence, he´d lay on top of you not fully suffocating you but with enough weight to calm the empty feeling you have. depending on your mood he would try to get you to talk with him, even if it's not about what made you upset, he just wants you to spend as little time as possible with those feelings so he´ll try giving you little soft kisses throughout your face constantly reassuring you he is there to listen to you.

"you did great today babe, want to tell me what's on your mind?"

dating sunghoon ๋࣭  ࣪𓍼 and being good partners was a learning curve, his personality and yours took a long time to adapt to a long-term relationship; neither of you were the most touchy and emotionally available at the beginning of the relationship, this improved with time, healthy boundaries were applied and you became more comfortable with each other. you still relied heavily on alone time and waiting to cool down on stuff that bothered you before telling the other person.

however, sometimes life felt so heavy on you that the only thing you needed was the feeling of sharing the same air and space as him. going into the living room where the only noise was coming from his phone you made a nervous beeline to him and laid yourself next to him burying your head in his neck inhaling his scent and looking for relief after a stressful day. the fact that he felt your rapid heartbeat and your shaky breathing made him hold you close in to him avoiding his shock and soothing you with gentle pads on your back giving you his full attention.

"it's okay darling, I'm right here, we can wait until you want to talk, no pressure."

[heartpascal]

FATHER FIGURE JOEL, I’M LOVING IT. Can you make some comfort from father figure joel, pleaseeee???

so far from it

▹— joel miller x platonic!reader

▹— summary: you get into some trouble, luckily, you know who to call for help.

▹— a/n: aghhh i don’t like it!! but gotta give yall something while you wait for the part two’s! ALSO IM SORRY THIS ISNT AS MUCH COMFORT AS I MEANT FOR IT TO BE

▹— warnings: father figure joel, violence, blood, swearing, reader gets attacked, needles, stitches, a smidge of comfort at the end

masterlist

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Ever since you had joined Tess and Joel’s operation, things had been going pretty smoothly. Though they had argued on multiple occasions over your age, having various disagreements over your capability in this job, you had proven yourself time and time again.

It didn’t faze you. Nothing did, really. You could shoot an Infected point blank in the head without batting an eye, could dig through dirt and muck to find supplies you needed, could travel for hours upon end and Joel and Tess wouldn’t hear a peep coming from you.

That was life in the apocalypse, you supposed, the complete lack of any remorse for what could’ve been had you just been born a few decades earlier. This was your life.

Sometimes, it was a life you didn’t particularly want, but you continued, especially after working with the adult duo for so long, it had become increasingly clear that they needed you. You could get into places they couldn’t, your small size allowing those tight squeezes, and the strength in your arms helped towards moving things away from blocked entrances.

In return for your services, Tess had formed an agreement with Joel, that you could stay at their apartment with them, sprawled over their couch, and they’d provide you the ration cards you needed to survive. A roof over your head and food was more than generous, and you had known even back then that you’d be an idiot not to take it.

Especially when considering the power that Tess wielded in the QZ, with a network of informants spreading all throughout it, and with Joel, you knew nobody would dare look to steal from you. Everybody who was anybody in the QZ knew what the two of them were capable of, and considering your affiliation with them, you were sure nobody would even attempt to come for you.

You had prided yourself on being smart for a very long time, smart enough to survive in this world, smart enough to escape FEDRA school despite having no parents, smart enough to team up with adults who held some sort of power. You had never considered that that pride would be a bad thing.

But today, whilst out with Joel and Tess, you had decided to head a little further away from them than you would usually go, determined to use your ration cards for something you wanted. It was stupid, really. You wanted a dumb book, and thought your smarts were enough to trade the dealer for it, thought you were smart enough to avoid any tricks or cheats.

You knew there was something very wrong when two men stood behind you, one leering over your shoulder as you looked down at the object of your desires, and you repressed the urge to turn your head towards him.

Instead, you kept your eyes to the table, and shoved your hands in your pockets, one going to grip on to your ration cards, the other holding the handle of the knife Tess had given you.

It was when the seller nodded at the two of them that you knew you were fucked.

Trying to pull the knife out backfired, and the blade ripped your coat as the man on your right grabbed your arm, twisting until you felt your grip involuntarily weaken, and then the seller snatched it from your hand. The man on your left grasped your other arm, squeezing so tight you felt the bruises forming beneath his hand already.

It didn’t take a genius to realise you were in some deep shit, especially after being disarmed so quickly, and so you did the first thing that came to your mind.

“Joel! Joel, help—” Your yells were cut off by the left man slapping his hand over your mouth, and you bit his fingers, spitting as he hissed and pulled his hand away. You struggled, opening your mouth once more, but you were stopped before you could even begin again, as the right man grabbed your head, slamming it into the rickety table below.

Your vision swam, and you could only just register being pulled away from the street, down an alley nearby. Your ears were ringing, like they did when you fired your gun, and you weakly tried to reach up and hold your head, stopped by the hands grasping onto your arms even now.

The duo dropped you to the floor, and you just about managed to put your arms out to stop a second blow to the head, that would most likely have ended in a concussion.

Hands digging into your pockets were the next thing you became aware of, and your attempts of pushing them away went pretty much unnoticed.

“Fuck you, man.” You spat out, your voice garbled as you realised your mouth was filled with blood, and you could feel it oozing out of your lip and cheek. The metallic taste was disgusting, and it made you feel sick.

The two men pulled you to sit up against the brick wall, and you spat at the one you recognised to be righty, a glob of bloody spit landing on his knee as he crouched beside you.

“This fucking bitch,” He began, but was cut off by lefty, who shook the man’s shoulder with a sense of urgency as he looked towards the end of the alley.

You drew your gaze in that direction with some effort, and felt a grin light up your face. “Oh, you’re so fucked.” You laughed, blood still dripping from your mouth, and even the dizziness that overcame you couldn’t wipe the smile off of your face as the two men realised they’d dragged you into a dead end, and their only way out was blocked.

The fighting was a blur, if you were honest, the adrenaline leaving you as your body recognised that you were safe, Joel was here. It was only when his face was looming in front of you that your awareness came back, blood still pooling under your tongue.

“Shit, c’mon, kid. Let’s get you home.” Joel murmured, hands placed on your cheeks as he looked at your head injury, a wince on his own expression. Your head lolled, about to fall towards your chest if Joel hadn’t been holding it up, the weight feeling impossible all of a sudden.

You tried to help them stand you up, Tess having arrived at some point during the commotion, but you were likely more of a hindrance than a help. With an arm over either of their shoulders, you stumbled your way out of the alley, the FEDRA guard across the way turning his head to look away from the three of you.

You couldn’t remember much of the journey back to the apartment, which was probably good for your pride, as you could imagine it wasn’t easy. You probably looked like an idiot, unable to keep your own head up half the time, but Joel and Tess got you back safely, which you had never doubted.

“Concussion?” Joel asked Tess, after the two of them had settled you down on the couch, your neck resting against the arm of it, holding the weight of your head up for you.

“Let’s hope not,” Tess replied, handing Joel the bottle of alcohol and the rag that was left on the counter for times just like these. “I’m going back out, gonna go find those pricks and see what the fuck they were doing.” She announced, shouldering her backpack once again and frowning at you, before she turned and made her way out.

You could almost see the anger rolling off of Joel, the one emotion he never bothered to shy away from, and even as he tried to be careful, you still cringed and pulled away from the rag he was attempting to disinfect your injuries with.

“Sorry, kid, it’s gotta be done.” He grumbled, sounding the slightest bit sorry, and pressed the rag against your forehead, wiping away the blood that was still weeping from there.

You sighed, the taste of your own blood still lingering in your throat, but the wounds in your mouth had stopped flowing now. You couldn’t recall spitting out the rest of the blood, but you figured it must’ve happened on the journey back.

“Got me pretty good, huh?” You asked, your words slurring even though you were thinking of them with no problem, and you blinked your eyes shut in annoyance.

“Could’ve been worse.” Joel muttered, his hands moving your face to check it over for any further injuries. You could feel your eye and eyebrow swelling up now, and frowned at the sensation.

You should have never gone to buy that stupid book. It wasn’t smart, and you were always smart, so you couldn’t quite understand what had happened. That was childish, you realised, the feeling dawning on you suddenly, the shame, the embarrassment.

That was one thing you had always made sure to deny yourself of, those childish feelings, the spontaneous decisions that came with naivety, those were things that you couldn’t risk in the apocalypse. You couldn’t afford to — clearly, you had gotten too comfortable here, the impending doom that came with living in a world like this had started to feel far away, with Tess and Joel at your side.

It was embarrassing, having shown such a weakness, and for a moment you were worried it was going to cost you everything, but Joel finally returned to your side, having been to put away the alcohol and rag he’d used to disinfect your injuries. He was quiet for a few moments, and then started pulling something out of his backpack, the crease between his eyebrows deep.

You looked over at him, your brows drawing together when you saw the book he’d pulled from his pack, the blade of your knife stuck between the pages like some kind of violent bookmark.

The two of them were far too observant, and you swallowed nervously, frown growing deeper as you looked away from the book you had wanted so badly. That part of you, the childish part, the one that got you into this mess in the first place, wanted to reach out and pull the book from his hands, but you pushed that desire away like you should’ve done to start with.

“What? This not what you were after?” Joel asked gruffly, something like confusion catching in his tone.

“It was stupid,” You said in response, feeling anger warm your chest the longer you thought about the whole thing. From here on out, you were never gonna give in to such childish wants. “I was stupid.”

Your admission seemed to surprise Joel, if the way his eyebrows raised told you anything. He remained in silence for a few moments more, before he put the book down on the table to the side, and turned back to you. “You weren’t stupid,” Joel denied, about to continue before you cut him off.

“I was!” You said loudly, the words the clearest of any you’d said since getting back to the apartment, and you blinked away tears, blaming the head injury for making you more emotional. “I didn’t think. I put myself in danger because— because of what? A damn book? How childish is that—”

“You are a child.” Joel said, stopping you before you could continue your rant, your words getting more intelligible as you went on. You stared at him, the tears filling your eyes once more, and he carried on at your expression, “That’s not a bad thing. You’re allowed to want things.”

“I want to stay with you.” You told him, voice shaking and watery, “I don’t wanna have to leave because I act like a kid.”

“You ain’t goin’ anywhere, kid.” He spoke firmly, and with a bit of a hesitation, he reached out, moving the hair on your head away from the cut that had started to bleed once again. “Swear it. We’re gonna sort those guys out, and nobody’s ever gonna come after you again.”

You nodded, feeling the slightest bit relieved at his words, though no less ashamed of yourself.

“Alright?” You nodded once again, “Good. I’m sorry for this, kid, but that’s gonna need stitches.”

Your face fell, and he sighed through his nose, understanding your pain. He held the suture kit in his hand, and you realised he must’ve gotten it when he put the alcohol away earlier on.

He grabbed your hand, squeezing slightly, and kept his grasp on you when he started stitching, letting you grip on to him tightly each time he pushed the needle through your skin. “I hate getting stitches.” You murmured, when he was finally done, letting him take his hand back to put the suture kit away.

“I know.” He acknowledged, and ruffled your hair as he stood up. “Sit up.”

You did as he told you, swinging your legs so you were sat only on one side of the couch, and you furrowed your brows as Joel got comfortable on the other side. You finally realised what he was doing when you watched him reach over to the rickety wooden table and grab the book he’d taken from the seller.

“C’mon, let’s see what this fuss is about.” Joel grumbled, pulling the knife out of the pages and handing it to you, making you smile lightly even despite the pounding of your head.

“Thanks, Joel.” You told him, eyes still watery.

“S’alright.” He responded, letting you settle at his side as he looked through the book that had caught your attention. “Puns, really?”

You laughed at his less than pleased reaction, setting your head against his arm as you looked at the jokes in the book, laughing to yourself over some of them.

He just shook his head, pushing down the smile that wanted to rise to his lips as he listened to you laughing.

[saetoshi]

to say that kaiser is a bad driver would be a severe understatement.

he is the worst driver to ever grace the earth, the planet, the whole universe. you don’t know how he got his license, and you don’t want to know how he got it, either.

all you know is you want to get off this death trap he calls his car as soon as possible. (preferably alive.)

“mihya.” you breathe out, shrinking into the passenger seat, closing your eyes, “maybe i should drive.”

he clicks his tongue, “i’m doing fine, don’t worry.”

(you’re not worried, you’re afraid.)

your eyes snap open. you turn your head to look at him, a look of concerned disbelief written all over your face.

he sighs, turning to look at you, “listen, we’ll get to the supermarket fine, okay?”

“look at the road, dumbass!” you cry, turning your head to the front, rubbing your eyes in frustration as another car loudly honks as kaiser swerves to the side.

you suppress the urge to wrangle him by the neck when he clicks his tongue in annoyance at the other car.

“some people really have no respect for other drivers,” he complains, his voice slightly angry as he frowns.

“yeah.” you pointedly glare at him. “and some people really suck at driving to the point they shouldn’t be allowed to even have a car.”

he nods in agreement at your words, his eyes trained on the road. (his little nod makes you want to crash his head against the steering wheel to knock him out so you can drive instead.)

“mihya.”

he hums, his head turning slightly to look at you before he rapidly turns back to look at the road in case you get mad at him for not paying attention to it.

“you should just let me drive.” you say, your words stern as you stare at him.

he pauses for a second, the corners of his lips quirking up, “i don’t think so.”

(you so desperately want to push him off the car.)

you look at him, an unamused expression on your face. “i hate you.”

“don’t make me swerve the car off the road.” he smiles, his voice teasing. he pauses for a second before he softly hums, “besides i don’t get to drive very often, i want to practice.”

you wish you could understand why he wants to practice when he’s got a manager that drives him literally anywhere he wants. (besides, he doesn’t even like driving, even when it’s just the two of you.)

“that’s dumb.” you hum, frowning as you lean your head against the window.

“your face is dumb.” he chuckles, making you frown as you look at him from the corner of your eye, disgust evident in your face as you see his cheeky smile. (he’s such a child sometimes, you think. it’s kind of cute. but you won’t tell him that.)

silence settles between the two of you for a few moments before you softly hum. “how much longer til we get to the supermarket?”

he glances at his phone, squinting at the gps. (you swear he should wear his glasses when he drives, maybe that’d make him miraculously better.) “about three minutes.”

you softly hum again in acknowledgment before a small, teasing smile grows on your lips. “took long enough.”

kaiser tsks, biting back a smile as he quickly glances at you. “don’t complain, you told me to drive slow.”

(you’re glad you did, by the way. still, you’d tell him to slow down even more since he’s still zooming through the road. but you don’t want to push your luck.)

“yeah, yeah.” you softly laugh. “whatever.”

you glance at the gps then at through the window as you smile, your body finally relaxing in relief as kaiser takes a right, headed for the parking lot.

“i hope you rate this drive as five stars.” he says, unbuckling your seat belt before unbuckling his.

“i dunno,” you chuckle, getting out of the car at the same time he does. “you’re a too much of a chatty driver for my taste.”

he sticks his tongue out at you, rolling his eyes. you nudge his arm as you walk over to him, smiling as you walk to the entrance of the supermarket.

kaiser grabs your hand, lacing his fingers through yours. “c’mon, the chattier the driver the better the drive.”

you hum in disagreement, shrugging as you look at him. “to each their own.”

“i made the drive even more entertaining.” he proudly smiles, squeezing your hand. “in fact, i wouldn’t mind driving on the way back.”

your face pales, your body tending up for a split second before you look at him, a strained smile on your lips. “that’s kind of you to offer.”

he shrugs, smiling as if you’d just stroked his ego. “of course-”

“i’m driving on the way back, though.”

[visionsofmagic]

jjk characters as cats [or jjk characters’ personalities as cats]

🌸 crack, humor, fluff, only a fun drabble ‘is all, nothing so serious, just me and my little cracked drabble… have fun! [the idea was so dumb and odd that I needed it as written, so, bear this weird drabble with me bows!] m.

🪷 satoru, suguru, yuji, sukuna, megumi, nobara, choso

SATORU

rich. you don’t know how he does that but he as a cat seems so rich. he can - probably- the one of his own kind. he even has glasses on his magical eyes, white fur never gets dirty even when he plays in the dust to fight with another cat who has black markings on his fur. except that, he likes sweet - fond of them and whenever you come home, he waits for you on the couch, looking at you; if you have sweet he jumps to you, licking your face but if you don’t, oh when you don’t, he gives you a bombastic side eye, going into his own room - yes he has a room as his - in a dramatic way.

SUGURU

he is classy. friendly to you but the moment you leave a sarcastic comment about his fur, and how he sometimes closes his one eye, he makes you regret it right away. he doesn’t eat on the ground, he prefers eating on the table with you. he has a weird friend with white fur and glasses - how a cat can have glasses on anyway. he makes his friend sounds like he is begging him to get out with him as suguru sits on his paws, watching him from the behind of window, seeing he enjoys his friend’s suffering.

YUJI & SUKUNA

they exactly have opposite personalities, literally; yuji is hyperactive, and soft, sounding like he is chuckling most of the time, and is everyone’s favorite with his friendly manner while on the other hand, sukuna shows a menacing manner, judging everyone- including you most of the time even though you swear he likes you too to others when they see sukuna scratches your skin - especially when you touch his fur (he only lets you do that when he wants, not when you want). you find yuji wakes you up in the morning while cuddling, being the sun in your bedroom, while you find sukuna standing in front of the window at night, looking at you from atop with menacing crimson eyes - you bet he has plans of killing you but yuji, being your guardian angel, stops him even if it means sukuna leaves wounds on him. but you know sukuna will protect yuji if another cat tries to hurt him.

MEGUMI

he is unbothered about everything, including his other cat friends but he gets shy so easily, hiding in your arms, back, and room whenever he doesn’t like to be in the center of any attention. his eyes are so beautiful that you take pictures of him. he has friends outside the house. however, he likes to be around you, helping you sleep at night as you cuddle him, peacefully. he even leaves his friends behind when he sees you coming home, slowly walking to you when you call his name as if he doesn’t care, but you can see how his eyes shine, excitement on his expression. he likes you even though he will not show any affection easily.

NOBARA

she is a fashion icon for other cats. she follows cat fashion, having her nails done, and showing them to her friend maki proudly. she doesn’t like when male cats are so dirty, judging them and nearly looking like she rolls her eyes at their failures. she is a bit crazy, listening to all your gossip about something, ready to attack whoever crosses their lines, touching her clean and soft fur. she likes when you bring her to shopping too, making comments about your choices of clothes as she nods her head in agreement and disagreement.

CHOSO

he is so emotional that it is embarrassing for him to admit it. he cries every time you leave home for work, and he jumps every time you come back home. he sits beside you, being a supportive cat and giving you napkins which he brings with him by using his teeth whenever you two watch an emotional movie together. it ends up with you being the one who is cleaning his tears because he can’t endure seeing other cats getting dramatic scenes in the movie. you hug him and he hugs you back. he even has a cat with pink fur to be his protector. he even brings him home and wants you to adopt him as his little brother. he has such a pure heart.

🩷

[mysticalsoot]

heaven is you (godbur au)

first installment of my godbur au & gift to my sister <3

➸ note; i wanted to finish this for @lillylvjy. lillys been a big play in why i still write and why i haven’t given up on shifting or given up on myself or this account. thanks to her i don’t impulsively delete things and i move forward. a few months ago i threw the idea of godbur at her and we talked about it and formed this character, she gives me the credit but she deserves just as much credit as i do. she’s my sister, regardless of biological attachment, she is my sister. i love her and i will protect her for as long as she’ll let me. she’s always there for me, holding me up and supporting me. if i’m upset or hurt, she’s there to listen and offer support. she also spends way more money on me than she should. and i love her, so a little note, don’t mess with her. thank you lills, i love you and enjoy this lil fic i somehow managed to finish in a day! also big thanks to @sleeby-anon for helping me pick out the photo and just helping me with this fic- tysm! you’re very cool and i love u (thank you for being a good friend to lilly :3 )

➸ pairing; godbur x gn!reader

➸ summary; after a few (actually, many) instances where you risked your life in order to reach your beloved wilbur’s world, you have a final disagreement that brings him to a few realizations and maybe some more effort to bring you want you want

➸ warning; kinda hurt but comfort at end, illusions to suicide but not flat out said, probably swearing, is there an unbalanced power dynamic? probably, uses of baby (i’m sorry i’m a sucker for it-), i think that’s it!

➸ age-rating; 15+

➸ wordcount; 2k

main masterlist

"darling," the word rolled off wilbur's tongue with ease, like it had been spoken millions of times. perhaps it had been, but your mind was too foggy with fear and desperation to think clearly, "you can't keep doing this."

he pleads for you, hands on your shoulders and eyebrows pulling together as he looks down at you.

"what else am I supposed to do?" your voice cracks as the words flow out, and he frowns, shaking his head and looking to the side.

"live," he pauses, turning his head to face you. his grip on your shoulders tightens just a bit, "there's more to life than seeking refuge in my world. be alive, live in mortality."

he's begging you, pleading for you. he hates to see you hurt, and he hates the way his world's laws are. you can't be thrust into immortal responsibilities yet, and you can't stay long as a mortal with purpose. you have to go, but you would rather die a million more times before you accept that.

"can't you just let me stay? what's the problem in letting me be free where I want to be, with you," you're pleading with him now. on your hands and knees praying to the god before you to just let you stay. you're standing, knees going weak just a smidge. your eyes are burning from tears and your cheeks are wet with a desperation.

"I can't, I really can't," his frown deepens and he pulls you into his chest, face in his white ruffly shirt. he smells like home, but a home you can never truly have. he cups the back of your head with his hand, rubbing at your scalp with his fingertips as you sigh.

"it's the rules," a kiss to the top of your head and you want to scream and cry and bang at his chest. but you don't, you stay still in his grasp, holding your calm in your hands so tightly.

"the rules are stupid," you mumble into his shirt, he moves a hand to rub your back.

he chuckles, nodding in agreement before speaking again, "I agree, love."

days pass after he sent you back, you mulled over ways and methods you could reach him again in desperate hope he'd finally give in to your pleas and let you stay.

you were wandering the woods, pacing between trees as you tried to narrow down your plans. you could try summoning him, but it wasn't fool proof. you could try to speak to him through meditation, but he sometimes ignored you 'for your sake'.

you weren't sure what would work, and you were kicking yourself for not knowing. but also for the doubts that filled your mind. what if he kicked you out again? told you to never see him again and made sure you couldn't? what if he forced you to live out your mortality purely out of his anger at you. what if he was angry?

you sigh, resting your head against the tree, sighing as you screw your eyes shut, banging your fist against the bark before stepping back.

"what more do you want?" you beckon up at the sky, he's not listening, you're sure of it but you need to be angry at something, somewhere. it's unfair.

"for you to listen," his voice mumbles in your mind and you scoff, shaking your head as the memory of his accent echoes in your mind.

"yeah well, you don't have the best ideas, now do you?"

"y/n.." he murmurs, his tone a gentle warning to you so you don't say something you'll regret. or do something, for that matter.

"wilbur," you copy his tone, mocking it almost before you groan, falling to sit on the ground.

"you know you can't do this, you know that," you can hear the strain in his voice, the way he draws it out and softens it just to reach out to you and make amends for it.

"but what else am I meant to do?" you want to scream at the top of your lungs, cry to him and bitch about the situation you're in. how you're continually denied what you want. you thought you proved yourself, you thought you proved that you could handle immortality. that you could handle him.

it's silent, not a sound is made around you or even echoed in your mind. you wondered if his methods of communication were a curse or a blessing. it felt more like a curse at the moment. it felt like a taunt to you, how powerless you felt down on earth, in morality. you felt so out of control, like a puppet. and maybe wilbur was the puppeteer, but who’s to say it wasn’t someone else? maybe he was just an illusion, a hallucination that controlled your motives and thoughts simply by the prospect of maybe having some hope to grasp onto. a nice, soft candle in the middle of a dark and empty room.

he was the light you couldn’t quite reach.

he finally speaks up, his tone rushed and worried, but his words keep you from second guessing it, “i have an idea.”

“what?” you mumble, nearly tripping over the single word.

“you want to stay with me, yes?” he sounds almost frustrated for a moment before sighing almost exasperated.

“yes, yes, that’s what i’ve been saying. you never listen-“

wilbur cuts you off, “i listen, i promise. okay? i listen to you, now, listen to me for a second, okay baby?”

you ponder for a moment before giving in, “fine.”

“i’ll let you come back, under a few conditions,” you wait a moment, giving him time to list his conditions but he doesn’t seem to budge on his own.

“and what are those?” you fold your arms over your chest, huffing as you imagine wilbur pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing at you.

“i’ll tell you when you get here, okay?” he pauses, sand surprisingly you can hear the hesitation almost as if he were there with you and not just speaking through your mind, “there’s a tree-“

“a tree? wow, so fancy,” your annoyance bubbling up at the way he wasn’t being direct.

he warns you again, a whispering of your name to keep you in line before he continues, “there’s a tree a few minutes in front of you, there will be lilliums around the base and a circle door in the middle. it’ll take you here, no need to do what you normally do, okay? please just, don’t do something stupid and get up here, okay?”

you take a moment before answering, wondering if you want to believe him or ignore him at the moment, “okay, fine.”

you wait a few minutes, making sure he doesn’t have anything more to say before standing up and beginning the walk over to the tree. it feels stupid, how hopeful you are and how confident you feel over walking to a damn tree as if it’ll fix your biggest qualm with the way your god’s world works. you stop short, maybe a good eight feet from the base of the tree, your eyes dancing around and staring at the lilly flowers lining the base and spreading over the roots. you play with the idea of turning around and walking back, abandoning him and any loyalty you had to him. but then you look back at the trunk before you and sigh, giving in and stepping back towards it. your fingers reach out to grasp the hook on the corner, pulling it back and crawling in, not without doubts of course but you aren’t sure what you have to lose.

you pull the door back to close it and turn around, darkness encompassing your whole being as you feel a sort of light feeling take over your senses. are you dreaming? it doesn’t feel like a dream, but it seems like one. are you real? is this real?

your thoughts shut off, cut like a guillotine, but the blade being the darkness and silence. you no longer felt anything but a void, and then you began to feel warm fabric, and then a whiff of cologne hit your nose and then you were finally able to open your eyes.

“i see you’re awake?” you peek up, rubbing your eyes as you take in your surroundings, eyes catching on the familiar figure of wilbur, sitting in a reading chair in the corner of his bedroom. you’ve been here before, you’ve slept in this bed but now it feels different. it’s a good different, but it isn’t the same.

“i am now,” you pause, tossing the covers over and off your legs as you sit up against the ornate headboard, gazing over at him as he meets your eyes and sets down his journal, “what happened?”

“i convinced myself that i could manage switching your role to immortal,” he sighs, moving his gaze to the floor as he chews his lip, mind reeling as he lists off all the rules he broke just to bring his love into his life.

“mm, was it paperwork that kept you from it?” you chuckle, much too happy at the moment to even think of how angry you were and still are at him.

“no,” he chuckles dryly, shaking his head, “it was.. more serious than that but that’s no talk for now. how are you feeling, love?” he stands from his chair, finding a spot on the edge of the bed by your feet and resting his hands on your legs.

“i couldn’t be more tired, what the hell happened? how did i get here?” you murmur, rubbing your eyes as you take note of the pulsing ache at your temples.

“i guided you through a dream, to get here, and once you reached this world, i switched some things around in your file,” he squeezes your calf, his eyes staring at the wall for a good minute before meeting your gaze.

“so that means…?”

“you’re immortal and no longer have any ties with your old world, you’re mine now, just the way you wanted,” he sighs, lifting your legs to lay over his lap as he reaches over and kisses your forehead. there’s a sort of calmness about him that you’ve yet to see until now. you never knew such peace could exist in him.

“i’ll answer any question you have.” you nod to him, acknowledging his offer but not knowing where to start,

you have too many questions to even verbalize, or let alone ask, and the growing headache isn’t helping either. so after a moment’s contemplation, you decide to let the piles questions take a rest while you enjoy your wilbur’s company.

you lean forward and kiss his cheek once, and you watch as a gentle rosiness floods the pale skin that he adorns and his lips curl up in a smile.

“how about we have a day to ourselves and celebrate?” you suggest, grabbing his hand to play with his fingers, chewing on your lip as you keep your eyes down.

“okay, as long as you promise to ask questions later?” he tilts your head up by your chin, a loving care in his eyes.

“promise,” you smile, kissing the tip of his nose before continuing and jumping off the bed, “now show me that pretty garden you have, yeah?”

he smiles, standing up and meeting you where you stand. he leans down, hands resting on your cheeks with giggles escaping his lips at your excitement, “may i kiss you first?”

“yes, sir you may,” your fingers wrap around his waist as he brings his lips to yours, smiling softly as your mouths move in sync. a moments pass before you both need air and you pull back, moving to tug on his hand, “now come on! show me the lilliums!”

he leads you out to the garden, smiling the whole way as he can’t help but to think how grateful he is that he broke a few rules and let heaven be you.

taglist; @lcvejoy @lillylvjy @ella-fella-bo-bella @lotusanonymouse @willgoldszn @whos-nicooo @zebonos

[devildomwriter]

One Little Thing, A Ring Part III | Mammon x Reader

.6K Words | GN Reader | CW: Angst

With Lucifer’s help, a wardrobe change, and strict instructions, Mammon had landed a decent paying gig. The only place that would hire him was the Demon Lord’s Castle and Mammon had his work cut out.

Barbatos delighted in putting Mammon to work as much as possible. He and Diavolo knew why Mammon was there and as two men who’d also competed for your heart, they were going to make Mammon work for you. It was meant to be educational but it was also for their own satisfaction as some sense of revenge.

“I still don’t understand. Why Mammon?” Diavolo asked Lucifer as they sipped on their tea and watched Mammon prune the roses from the balcony.

“___ has peculiar taste.” Lucifer complained.

“Careful Mammon, that’s our favorite bush,” Barbatos called down to him and Mammon audibly panicked and with trembling hands started carefully trimming branches down one by one.

“Must you tease him?” Lucifer asked and Barbatos grinned.

“I must, yes. ___ deserves nothing less than perfect so we must ensure that that is what they receive. If we cannot give that to them, we must make sure Mammon does.”

Diavolo nodded in agreement with his butler and paused after taking another sip. “You know…they could always be interested in polygamy. If not now then later down the road. Surely Mammon as entertaining as he can be can’t provide for them like any of us could.”

Lucifer nodded and sipped his tea. “I agree. Thanks to their magic they’ll live a very long time. We must be patient, that’s all.”

Diavolo nodded but Lucifer could notice the small shake as he set the tea down gently. Everyone reacted in their own ways to your relationship with Mammon and Diavolo did his best to bottle it up but sometimes he couldn’t help small moments of sadness or anger slipping through.

The labor intensive work he was putting Mammon through was one example. Mammon wasn’t aware of it but Diavolo intended to pay whatever the cost may be for the ring Mammon thought best for you. Diavolo wouldn’t allow you to be disappointed.

“Speaking of ___, where are they right now?” Barbatos inquired as he kept his eye trained on Mammon who was attempting to use hedge clippers.

“I believe they’re doing some kind of job with the sorcerer’s association.”

“Taking on odd jobs?” Diavolo asked, curious.

Lucifer shrugged, “they aren’t talking much about it. They’re very tired by the time they come home. Not only do they have work but then they must portal themselves into another dimension and do it all again in a few hours.”

“Mm…it’s odd they’d take on a job like that considering they can do essentially anything they wanted to,” Diavolo speculated and it stayed silent as they listened to Mammon panic as he stumbled upon a nest of Hellfire Wasps.

“Oh dear…I suppose I ought to call for the exterminator,” Barbatos sighed. “Perhaps Mammon could work.”

Lucifer’s brow furrowed. “No. Call a professional before the situation worsens.” Lucifer advised but truly he was worried Mammon would get stung to hell and as much as he was jealous right now, he wasn’t going to let Barbatos and Diavolo thrust Mammon into agonizing danger.

Diavolo knew that’s why Lucifer made the suggestion and relented for his friend’s sake. “That’s most advisable,” he nodded and Lucifer relaxed into his chair as he heard Mammon screaming and running across the yard.

Mammon was fast enough to escape but began crashing into things in the process. Lucifer glanced at Barbatos who was eying him exasperatedly.

“Send the bill later.”

Barbatos nodded, “I could deduct it from his pay.”

Lucifer waved his hand in disagreement, “just send the bill.”

Just as Lucifer began feeling bad for Mammon, Mammon scaled the wall and used Lucifer as a shield against the wasps. The wasps were instantly vaporized from Lucifer’s magic as he tore Mammon a new one for leading dangerous creatures straight to the prince.

Part I • Part II • Part IV • Part V

[s-dei]

I wonder, how in your opinion did Illidan's and Khadgar's relationship started?

Hi anon!!! Thank you for askin, it will be fun to dive into my mind of 5 years ago and recall all the stuff :'D (It can go out of control…)

(IT DID went out of control, so I'm throwin it under the cut 😂) There may be typos or mistakes, haven't checked and lazy.

I think I should start with character's reasons to be interested in eachother. Like, beside from "we happened to be in the same place doing the same thing (fighting Legion)", a more specific moments from the both sides.

Khadgar's side: 1) He was glad to get one more ally who is really passionate to fight Legion. Of course, Legion was everyone's business at a moment, and there were a lot of powerful allies. And Illidan is well - pretty controversial person. But at this moment Khadgar was really exhausted, and still was questioning a lot his Guardian role (even if it was only nominal), and Illidan was realy personal with Legion. So he was mostly glad someone else wanted to take the main role (while there also were moments of regret xD)

2) That's a curious magic nerd Khadgar. And an ancient demon-elf. Of course he wants to ask something, even if he knows even more ancient creatures. While not using it himself, he would enjoy to listen about dark ways of magic or something.

3) Illidari. He was unsure at first, but in the end enjoyed 'babysitting' them. Even when Illidan is back, he still cares about them and asks if they need something, or just comes to chit-chat. He is also curious to know especially about the bond of Illidari and their Master, from the both sides.

Illidan's side: 1) That's a magic nerd Illidan (in other ways, but still here we are). And a human mage wielding a great power AND having mark of Sargeras left on his aura. Of course Illidan is curious about it. And he wants it - in a greedy demonic way he holds back, so he is just going with decent conversation.

2) Khadgar is an ally you better to team up with. Of course Illidan Stormrage is mighty and powerful, but he still lives in society 😂 Azeroth changed a lot since he went to Outland, the ruling power is different now. Illidan came back to life, but he's still a war criminal, and many ppl want him dead or in prison again. Of cooourse they need him to fight Legion, but if the war is over succesfully, who will speak for him and Illidari? Oh, maybe it will be Khadgar, who is suddenly non-hostile (while he have all the rights to be after Outland?) Let's keep it as an option. Illidari say too that he's really cool ally.

3) Some really far-fetched stuff, but Illidan pays attention to details. Back in the WotA he was trained by Rhonin and fought along Kur'talos Ravencrest, and so he makes a remark about Khadgar and his raven form. Even if Illidan chooses his way himself (tm), sometimes he still thinks about the promised Fate of his, and wonders if it is in a things repeating. (That's just me bringin all the lore bits to one pile, I love it. Khadgar also was in a Black Temple. Mind it)

Both sides: sharing the feeling of a "missed time". One literally spent hella majority of his life in isolation, and the other turned into oldman in his 17 (or 19? damn i always confuse those numbers). I think it works kinda equal for them, and they went "oooh, you understand?"

Events

Sooo in my vision, Khadgar already had some opinion about Illidan and things to ask him, and Illidan was fine with speaking to him aside from Illidari to know more about events happened in the world. I think before Brokenshore campaign started, they had a few personal and group meetings, and found out that they share something in common while having different tempers.

When the campaign began, things went… complicated xD They started to find out their differences, and always were loud discussing it and their disagreement. Sometimes they started with disagreement and finished with agreement, keeping it with a passive agression :Д Were they mad? They had fun! Mostly. I think both enjoyed a 'look i'm having a dispute with this important dude'

But besides from discussing strategy and other serious stuff, they still had a moments of discussions of magic and past events (unless they were too personal). Khadgar shared stuff with him, from food and drinks to artifacts and books, and enjoyed watching how Illidan interacts with it. Sometimes amazed. And often endeared. There was actions from Illidan's side as well, but he mostly did it via Illidari (not like he was ashamed, just really busy). And they mostly said "yeeeeah this is from Lord Illidan!"

Eventually Khadgar fell in love and WAS TERRIFIED. He spent a lot of time figuring out what he really feels. When he came to conclusion, he thought a lot if he should confess, coz it's fkin Illidan Stormrage. It felt so crazy, but Khadgar decided that his life is going crazy for a while, and he decided to try. I can see Khadgar as a person who isn't going love crazy right away. He feels something buzzing, a certain kind of interest, but it's not a "omg this is the one and only person in my life" untill they go mutual. He, of course, will be sad if Illidan rejects him, and it will take some time to recover, but he isn't going to keep it forever.

And so he decided to confess. He purposely have chosen a short peacefull moment before some big battle in case if the things go awkward or even bad, so they both have an excuse to leave.

Now coming back to Illidan and what he felt. Ngl he's a complicated char if you want to go thoughtful with him. But I think during this time he became a little sympathetic with Khadgar. Found him special in one ways and annoying in others, but def considered him and ally and maybe even a friend, while he wasn't going to admit it outloud.

Still, the confession made him baffled (even if he suspected it a bit). If it was someone else, he would just say "lol no" and leaved. But he was really curious about Khadgar's reasons and what the actual fuck. He couldn't say he felt something even similar to love, but also didn't went with just a "no". He said that Khadgar is probably mistaken, or just don't realize that he isn't the type to build a 'true lovestory' with and live happily ever after. He is a demon and his passion is already going on hating Legion, so don't you expect a romantic fairytale. Khadgar said that he pretty aware of all of this, he isn't going to fix Illidan, or cure his scars, or bring him into typical lovey-dovey routine. "How about we just find our own way?"

You see, Illidan says "yes" in any case, but I can see it going in different ways: - First is a direct "yes", but not in a "i want to be with you" way. It's a "You know what, I will be with you, and I'm curious how you gonna handle it". Being baffled at first, he is now going into offence and declares "If you want a challenge, I'm giving it to you". Not love - a challenge. The challenge isn't about Illidan being a demon/ancient/edgy person. It's about the fact Illidan knows zero shit about romance and he's goin to explore it and experiment af (of course he didn't said it literally, but he implied). He is going to be unbearable. And he enjoys how Khadgar reacts - confused and happy and non-believing and terrified. He's goin to love it. - Second is Illidan taking a time to think, and they talk once more after the battle was over. This conversation is more calm, more intimate and Illidan lets Khadgar close to try and see how he feels about it. They speak about some personal stuff, and while Illidan didn't said it directly, he implied he don't mind to try (yet warns that it still won't be a lovey-dovey stuff). (ngl, their moment of confession is so hard, I tried to write it 5 times with different words, so I will never come to a single solution)

Illidan promised no lovey-dovey, but he found out he enjoys it actually 😌👌

I think I have some more stuff to say, but this post already went WILD. IDK, feel free to ask more direct questions or somethin :)

[perplexingluciddreams]

Automatic "yes" response

When anyone says something to me with a certain questioning inflection, I almost always automatically respond with a perceived "yes" or agreement.

With familiar voices, this always happens, because I have already learnt their intonation patterns. It is like music to me, the way my brain latches onto the patterns. The only part of speech that I can process and recognise almost immediately, with barely any delay.

However, I have significantly delayed processing for the actual words. My brain recognises the "music" of the intonation/inflection WAY before it can break down the talking noises into individual words, and eventually work out the meaning.

So, this is how it goes: someone with a familiar voice will make talking noises, and I will recognise the questioning inflection pattern. Or I hear the tones follow the same patterns I know, and then pause, and I know I am supposed to put my own "notes" in the gap. So, I will instinctively respond with my "ah-ah" or "ah-da" or "mmh-mh" noise (with my own musical intonation to show the "yes" meaning), or a head nod, or "yes" sign, or other "yes" gesture.

Then, a short while (or sometimes LONG while) later, my brain finally "clicks" on what the person actually said. And I realise - often too late - that I don't necessarily mean my automatic answer. Or even if I do still mean yes, I wish that I could have the chance to deliberately say that, instead of just my automatic body reaction.

"No" or disagreement is much harder for me to communicate. Especially when it involves having to go back on something I seemed to say "yes" to or agree with previously. I have to "contradict" my past self so often. It all means a lot of extra room for misunderstanding and misinterpretation and miscommunication.

I used to not be able to do this at all. It is only in the last few years that I figured out how to "contradict" the wrong responses that my body gives without my approval. And to understand that there is a difference between my own self inside my head, and the things that my body does without permission. I used to get so angry at myself for "lying" all the time - I couldn't understand why it happened when it is not what I wanted to do or say.

I have a lot of scary memories of being put in situations I didn't want to be in and couldn't cope with, simply because my body makes me compulsively seem to agree with everything almost all the time. And it always happens before I can even mentally process the "yes" response that I gave (never mind processing what the talking noises actually meant in the first place).

I don't know why this is something that happens to me. It has happened for as long as I can remember - at least, as long as I can remember being aware of the musicality of voices.

[scribblesofagoonerr]

September Love | Never Grow Up

the third and final installment in this mini series.

summary: remi starts her first year of big school and there's a new arrival in the williamson family

pairings: leah williamson x reader

“I can’t believe it’s this time already,” Leah says, a frown etched on her face as she stares at an old photo of Remi at 5 weeks old that she had saved in her phone, “Where has the time gone?” She murmurs.

It only felt like it was yesterday.

“We blinked Le,” You tell her, your eyes softening, “And just like that, she’s off to big school.” You add.

“But she’s still too tiny for big school, isn’t she?” Your wife exhales a sigh and continues to stare at the photo on her phone with tears welling up in her eyes.

“Le, she’s 5 years old now. We have to let her go now,” You say gently, reminding your wife that your eldest girl was indeed not a baby now.

“I still don’t like it though,” Leah admits quietly, shaking her head in disagreement.

You can’t help but chuckle heartily, “She’s only going into her first year of reception, it’s not like she’s moving out the country,” You tease your wife, which you’re quick to be on the dirty end of a scowl, “Come on Le, you know what I mean.”

“Don’t even joke about things like that,” Leah murmurs, continuing to frown at you, “You don’t get it though, it’s her first day of big school… which means she’s not a baby anymore.” She adds.

“No she’s not,” You reply quietly in agreement.

Your wife bites her bottom lip and shakes her head vigorously, “I don’t like it. Why can’t we just turn back the clock?” She asks.

“It doesn’t work like that,” You laugh humorlessly and shake your head.

“It’s just,” Leah begins to say as she finds the right words, “She was our tiny little baby at one point and now… now she’s just growing up so fast.”

“Don’t worry, we’ve still got time to go through all this again, remember?” You tell her, gesturing towards your swollen belly as you are ready to give birth any day now, “Twice.”

“I know,” Your wife’s eyes soften as she crouches down and rests her hands on your baby bump, “I can’t wait to meet you baby boy.” She whispers, placing a gentle kiss on your stomach.

“And he can’t wait to meet his Mummy either,” You tell her, genuinely smiling at the blonde, “Any day now.” You add, hopeful that he does make his appearance sooner rather than later after getting to the stage of being uncomfortable, and pregnancy during Summer is no joke.

“Why’re you sad, Mummy?” Remi’s voice pipes up out of nowhere, all ready for school wearing her brand new school uniform that you have to admit looks massive on her, her hair done up in a loose ponytail with a red ribbon attached while she wears her new black shiny shoes that you had the absolute misfortune of having to experience standing in a queue to just to get into the busy shop – that is something that you can definitely say you’re not such a fan off.

“Oh I’m not sad, baby Gooner,” Leah immediately plasters a smile on her face, “I’m just… I’m really proud of you, you know?” She adds, wiping away the stray tears from her face.

“But you’re crying though,” Remi frowns in confusion as she tilts her head to the side, “You only do that when you’re sad, like when you watch them really sad films about the puppies or when you’re on the pitch sometimes–”

“Okay, okay, I think we get it,” Leah interjects, before your daughter has any further chance to expose your wife for the softy that she really is, “I’m not sad, baby Gooner. I’m just so excited for you that you’re starting big school today. Are you excited?” She questions.

“Uh huh! I am so excited, I can’t wait to make lots of friends like uncle Jacob told me about!” Remi is vibrating with excitement, which is more than can be said about your wife.

“You’re going to make so many new friends!” You reassure your little girl with a proud smile on your face, “Alright, how about we take a picture for your first day of big school, yeah?”

“Yeah!” Remi jumps up and down in delight at the idea.

“Big smiles, Remi Roo!” You encourage as your daughter flashes you a gap-toothed smile from the tooth that she lost just the previous week.

You make it a whole family occasion with Esme toddling in to join in the photo opportunity and many snaps are taken amongst your little family of four, soon to be five.

“Perfect, baby girl!” You tell her, taking lots of pictures as you stare at them with a sense of nostalgia as all the sudden memories come to light of the several milestones Remi has achieved over the last 5 years, “You really are growing up, Remi Roo.”

“I don’t like it, it’s too many milestones at once,” Leah cracks under the pressure and shakes her head, wiping another stray tear away.

“Le,” Your facial expression softens as you wrap your arms around your wife to comfort her.

“It’s okay, Mummy!” Remi wraps her small arms around Leah’s legs, “Don’t be sad now! It’s gon’ be okay!”

“Me join!” Esme, not wanting to be left out, holds her hands up in the air for you to lift her up, “Mummy sad?” She asks, confused.

“A little bit,” You answer your youngest honestly.

“I make it better,” Esme declares, pressing a sloppy kiss on Leah’s cheek, “All better?”

“Much better, thank you Essie Bear,” Leah coos, returning a gentle kiss to Esme’s cheek.

“You can still cuddle me, even when I’m at big school!” Remi points out, peering up to look at your wife from where she’s stood, “It’s okay!”

“Oh, well in that case then I am definitely holding you to that,” Leah grins and scoops Remi up into her arms, “I’m gonna get in all the snuggles in that I can!” She says, squeezing her tightly.

“Alright, alright,” You break it up jokingly, “Let’s not smother her before she even makes it out the door for her first day.”

“Don’t you dare make fun of me,” Leah tells you, pointing her index finger in your face, “This is a big moment today.” She adds, placing Remi back down on the floor.

You snicker in amusement at your wife’s expense, “Oh don’t I know it? Big bad scary Leah Williamson crying over her little girl’s first day at big school,” You pause, the smirk not leaving your face, “Gosh, what will the world think?”

Your wife glares at you and gently swats you, “Shut up, I’m allowed to be emotional today.”

“Uh huh, and what’s the reason for every other day then?” You can’t help but wonder with a shit eating grin on your face.

“You’re lucky that I love you,” Leah murmurs, rolling her eyes at your antics to wind her up.

“And I love you too,” You reply, pecking her on the lips, “You’re the lucky one that I put up with you being a blubbering mess every time Remi does something that’s deemed ‘too grown up’,” You remind her, amusedly.

“I’m emotional, okay?” Leah exclaims, throwing her hands up in the air, “She’s our eldest, our baby… Our baby Gooner!”

“You can’t call me that anymore, Mummy!” Your 5 year old points out, “I’m not a baby!”

Your wife pouts at your daughter's words and shakes her head, “You will always be my baby, no matter how old you get,” She pauses, “Even when you’re 30 and you have your own family.”

Remi wrinkles her face up in disgust, “Boys are yucky, I don’t want a boyfriend.” She states,

“And you’re definitely right to think that,” You chuckle amusedly as you gather your small family out of the door and make your way to your wife’s BMW, “I think if Mummy had her way, she wouldn’t let you date until you’re 25 at least.” You joke.

“I’m ready to go in!” Remi announces, standing outside of the school gates in a tone that sounds far more grown up than her 5 year old self, “I’m not scared.”

“It’s good to not be scared, you’re going to have so much fun!” You tell her, holding her hand and guiding her through the gates of the school while Leah follows behind holding Esme’s hand, “You’re going to smash it, baby girl!”

“And we’ll be right here to pick you up when the day is done, okay?” Leah reassures your daughter, catching up with your toddler, who likes to walk at her own pace.

“Okay!” Your eldest nods in agreement, bouncing on her toes as she carries her backpack that looks way too big for her.

“Rem! Rem!” Esme shouts to get her big sister’s attention, “Rem!”

“I’m going to big school, Bear,” Remi crouches down and wraps her arms around her little sister, “But I’ll see you when I’m home and tell you all about it!”

Watching the exchange between your daughters, makes your heart swell with pride and a touch of bittersweetness.

“Miss ‘ou, Rem,” Esme pouts, a little frown forming on her tiny face as her voice wobbles, as if she’s on the verge of tears.

“Miss you too, Bear,” Remi continues to squeeze her little sister tightly, “I’ll be back later though, don’t worry!” She adds with a smile that reveals her recently lost tooth.

“Come here, you,” Leah crouches down to your daughter’s level and wraps her arms around her, squeezing her tightly as if to not let go and hold on to her forever, “I’m so proud of you, here at big school, eh?  You’re going to make so many friends and learn so much! Oh, and have a lot of fun as well!” She tells her.

“Mummy,” Remi attempts to wriggle away from your wife’s embrace, “You’re… You’re squeezing too tight.” She whines,

“I’m just soaking up the moment until you’re home from school,” Leah admits, pulling back and brushing a loose strand of hair behind Remi’s ear, “Big school, eh? I wish you would stop growing up so much on me, I don’t like it.” She jokes with her.

“You have to let me grow up, Mummy,” Remi’s giggle is infectious as she squeezes your wife again tightly, “I gots’ to go in now, but I’ll see you when you pick me up, remember?”

“We will be right here waiting for you,” You tell her, unable to crouch down properly with your swollen belly in the way, “We’re so proud of you, Remi Roo!” You add, kissing the top of her head.

You spot your daughters’ teacher making her way over to your family as she gives you both a kind smile, “Hi, Remi. Are you ready to go in?” She asks.

“Yes!” Remi excitedly replies, giving you both a final hug goodbye before she takes hold of her teachers’ hand and begins to walk in the building, “Bye, Mummy! Bye, Mumma! Bye, Bear!” She calls back, her voice ringing with excitement.

“Bye, baby Gooner,” Leah waved back, her voice catching slightly as you see the glimmer of tears threatening to spill over again.

You can feel your own chest tightening as you force a smile and wave, “See you later, Remi Roo. Have the best day!”

“Bye-bye, Rem! Love you!” Esme clings to Leah’s leg, waving frantically.

“Save your tears for the car, Le,” You tease, taking note of your wife’s eyes, the tears are a lot more visible now, “I know it’s hard to watch her go in there, but it’ll be 3 o’clock before we know it.” You add, hoping that helps things a little better.

“I know,” Leah murmurs in agreement, walking round to the pre-school that Esme attended next to the school.

You can say that dropping Esme off to pre-school wasn’t too hard, although there were extra tight hugs given before your youngest daughter ran off inside without a care in the world.

Much to your wife’s disappointment, and you swear the tears threaten to spill again.

“At least we know what your weakness is now,” You joke, climbing back into the passenger seat of the car after dropping them both off, “It’s only a few hours, remember? It’ll be here before we know it.” You tell her.

Leah tries to laugh it off and shake her head as she climbs into the driver's seat, “Yeah, and to think I still have to go to training,” She pauses as wipes a visible tear away as she buckles her seatbelt in, “I wish I could just tell Jonas that we have a family emergency.” She tells you.

It’s at that moment, you completely freeze as you feel a sudden wet patch on your leather seat.

 “Um, Le,” You mumble, getting her attention as she fiddles with the dials of the car to find the right music playlist, “I think you might need to call Jonas and tell him that there’s a family emergency.” You say.

Leah turns towards you and looks confused, “Why’s that, love?” She wonders.

“Well, because I’m 99% sure that my waters have just broken,” You admit, gazing down to motion to the seat.

It takes literal seconds for your wife’s eyes to widen in shock, “What? Here? Now?” She rambles in a clear panic, “Seriously? Oh my God!”

“Don’t panic,” You murmur, trying to keep the situation calm despite your best efforts – Your wife is very much in a complete panic over this.

“I’m not… I’m not panicking,” Leah stutters her words as she runs her hand through her hair, “What'd we do? Do you feel like you have contractions? We need to get the hospital bag from the house!” She continues to ramble.

You shake your head in disagreement, “I don’t feel like there’s any currently,” You pause, “We’ll go home, stay there until they start and head to the hospital when it’s time, yeah?” You suggest, trying to keep calm in the situation despite the one being hours away from giving birth.

“O… Okay,” Leah swallows the lump that’s formed in her throat, “We’ll go home, we’ll wait there– I need to call my Mum, she’ll need to pick the girls up.” She notes in realisation.

“Yeah, I somehow don’t think it’s going to be possible to be there for the 3 o’clock pick up after all,” You murmur, exhaling a sigh, “Little man has decided today’s the day to make his grand entrance into the world.”

Plans don’t always go straight forward. You certainly didn’t expect to go into labour on the very same day your eldest daughter started big school, but it is what it is sometimes.

“I hate the fact that my Mum had to pick Remi up on her first day,” Leah murmurs in a hushed voice, settling on the bed in the hospital beside you where you lay after just giving birth.

“Rem will understand, Le,” You lay back against the pillows with your newborn son, Archie George Williamson, cradled against your chest, fast asleep while you can hear his tiny breaths that are slow and even, his fingers curled into little fists against your shirt.

“I know but we promised her that we would be there,” Leah exhales a sigh as she gently strokes your baby boy’s head, “Someone was just too impatient to wait.” She coos.

“I think our family is complete now,” You whisper, careful not to disturb your newborn son nestled against you.

“I’d say so,” Leah replies, her voice soft as her eyes never leave Archie’s face, “He’s perfect, isn’t he? His big sisters are going to absolutely love him when they meet him.”

You both share a quiet, knowing smile as you capture this moment of magic that feels entirely new and familiar to you both. However that tranquillity is short lived, broken by the unmistakable sound of little feet thundering towards your hospital room.

“Speaking of sisters, it’s after 3 o’clock,” You whisper with a chuckle, bracing yourself.

Before your wife can even get a chance to even reply, the door flies open with a bang, “Mummy!” Remi shouts, her voice full of excitement as her hair now wild and free from its ponytail, running into the room with wide eyes, bright and full of curiosity.

“Mumma! Mummy!” Esme echoes, hot of her sister’s heels, her usual energetic self completely oblivious to your sleeping newborn nestled on your chest.

“Shhh, girls,” Leah gently admonishes, holding up a finger to her lips, “We have to be quiet and use our inside voices.” She reminds them softly.

Remi is the first to stop short, suddenly aware of the little bundle lying against your chest, “Is that him?” She whispers, her eyes widen even more as she tiptoes over to you with exaggerated caution as she barely is able to manage her own excitement.

“It is,” You nod, smiling at her, “Girls, this is your baby brother, Archie.”

Esme’s face lights up with delight, “Baby?” She says, her voice high-pitched and curious, “My baby?” She asks.

“Your baby brother,” Leah corrects with a grin, scooping Esme up to give her a better view of your newborn, “See? He’s very little, so we have to be very gentle with him.”

You watch as Remi leans in closer, her little face filled with wonder, “He’s tiny, Mumma,” She reaches out, carefully touching Archie’s tiny hand, “He’s smaller than my dollies.”

“He is, isn’t he?” You chuckle softly, “But he’ll grow up to be big and strong, just like you.”

Your wife sets Esme down next to Remi, “What do you think, Essie Bear?” She asks, the two girls staring at their new little brother, your 3 year old in that moment reaching out to poke Archie’s cheek gently, “Gentle, Essie,” She reminds her with a smile, pulling Esme’s hand back just a bit.

Your baby boy just lets out a soft sigh but still remains asleep. At least you know it won’t be so much a problem to sleep in a noisy household with 2 older sisters.

“He likes it, Mummy,” Esme declares confidently, trying to reach out and poke him again.

“We have to be gentle with him, Es. He’s only little,” You tell her softly.

Remi glances up at Leah, “Mummy, will he like Arsenal, like you do?” She asks, curiously.

“I mean I hope so, but if not then that’s okay too,” Leah answers honestly, “Just as long as he doesn’t follow uncle Jacob and support Spurs.” She jokes.

“Of course you just had to get in there, didn’t you?” You laugh, shaking your head in amusement.

“What? We’re a family full of Gooners,” Your wife shrugs her shoulders and sticks her tongue out playfully, “Just as long as all 3 of our kids are happy then that’s all that matters to me.”

“That is what matters the most,” You agree, feeling the warmth of this very moment as you lean back against the pillow with a content sigh, “But I have a feeling that little man might very well support you before we know it.”

Leah grins, her eyes twinkling with mischief, “Oh he’ll be a little Gooner, alright. I’ll make sure of it.” She says, determined.

“Can I hold him, Mumma? Please?” Remi leans in closer, looking at you with those big, hopeful eyes.

You glance at Leah, who nods with a smile, “Okay, Remi Roo, but you have to sit down and be very still, okay?” You instruct gently.

Remi eagers nods and hops onto the chair beside the bed, her little legs dangling off the edge as she waits in anticipation to hold your son. Your wife gently lifts Archie from your chest, cradling his tiny body with expert hands, and then slowly places him into Remi’s waiting arms.

“Hi, Archie,” Your eldest daughter’s face lights up with pure delight, her grin stretching from ear to ear as she cradles her baby brother with such tender care in the world, “I’m Remi, I’m your big sister and I love you lots!” she whispers, her voice filled with awe.

“He loves you lots too, Remi Roo,” You whisper back, watching the moment with your heart swelling with pride and love at the sight of your three children together. You are glad that your wife is able to capture this perfect moment on her camera.

“My turn next!” Esme declares, standing on her tiptoes, trying to peek over Remi’s shoulder, “My turn!” She repeats, a little too loud as your wife quickly hushes her with a finger to her lips.

“Soon, Essie Bear,” Leah promises, brushing a hand through Esme’s curly hair, “Remi’s just having a cuddle first, see?”

Esme nods eagerly, her face scrunched up in concentration as she watches her sister carefully, “Okay, I wait,” She whispers, “He’s cute, Mummy.”

“He is, isn’t he?” Your wife agrees, leaning down to kiss the top of Esme’s head, “He looks just like you when you were born as well. Tiny and perfect.”

As you watch your three children, you can’t feel a time where you felt more happier than being surrounded by your small family you’ve created with your wife.

Because despite the ups and downs in life, the unpredictability and the chaos that life sometimes brings, you wouldn’t change a thing.

© scribblesofagoonerr

[dontyouworrydaddy]

Konig and 141 boys hearing "Ok, boomer" from a younger so. Not in a mean way, though, but as a joke. Maybe they disagreed on something. Ty so much.

ᴏᴋᴀʏ ʙᴏᴏᴍᴇʀ﹖

Task Force 141 (+König) + gn! reader

OMG. I LOVE THIS IDEA. AHHHH thank you for the request Anon! Hope you enjoyyyy💞💞💞

╔═════ ∘◦ ✾ ◦∘ ══════╗

König

As you and König sat on the couch, engaged in a passionate debate about the merits of modern technology, your voices filled the room. The topic at hand was the increasing reliance on smartphones and social media, and the generational gap between you was apparent.

"Well…" König stated firmly, his voice laced with skepticism, "You are too consumed by your smartphones. Back in my day, we didn't have these distractions."

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. "Oh, come on, König. You're sound like a boomer."

Silence filled the air and you watched as König's expression shifted from one of determination to confusion. His brows furrowed, and they fell into deep thought, comprehending your remark. The room grew quiet as könig processed the joke, his mind caught between questioning if it was satire or an actual insult.

Ten minutes passed, each second filled with mounting tension and anticipation. Finally, König broke the silence, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

"Y/N" he said cautiously, their eyes meeting yours "did you mean that as a joke?"

A mischievous grin spread across your face as you reassured him "Of course, König! It was just a playful jab, nothing more. I didn't mean any harm." You didn’t think he would really think about your statement.

König's shoulders relaxed, and a chuckle escaped their lips. "I suppose I still have much to learn about your sense of humor." he admitted with a smile. "But let me tell you, the world can be a serious place. Sometimes it's good to find a balance between tradition and progress."

You nodded in agreement. His last sentence just proved your point but you don’t say anything. You just smile at him because he looks adorable when he tries to lecture you about random things.

Simon Riley

Simon and you never really fought since you both are scared at the thought of screaming at each other. But one day, as you engaged in a spirited debate about a current topic, a disagreement emerged between you and Simon. The tension crackled in the air as opposing viewpoints clashed. In an attempt to lighten the mood, you playfully say "Okay boomer."

Simon's brow furrowed in confusion, his piercing blue eyes searching your face for a clue. "Boomer?" he repeated, his voice tinged with genuine puzzlement. "I'm not that old! Compared to Price, I'm practically a baby compared to him."

A mischievous smile tugged at the corners of your lips let a wheeze escape, realizing the misunderstanding. "Oh, Simon" you replied, laughter dancing in your voice. "It was just a joke. I didn't mean it literally." you continued to laugh.

Relief washed over Simon's face, replaced by a wry grin. "Ah, I see" he said, his voice laced with amusement. "You certainly know how to keep me on my toes, don't you? But next time, warn me before you unleash your arsenal of jokes."

You playfully nudged him, the camaraderie between you reigniting. "Deal" you replied, your eyes sparkling. "Consider yourself warned, Lieutenant Riley. From now on, I'll make sure to give you a heads up before I unleash any more jokes."

As laughter filled the room, the tension disappeared, replaced by a sense of shared Love.

John MacTavish

The two of you found yourselves engrossed in a lively debate, each passionately defending your respective opinions. The air crackled with the sparks of disagreement as the conversation grew more intense. And just when it seemed like the tension would overwhelm the room, you couldn't help but blurt out "Okay boomer" as a joke.

John's reaction was utterly priceless. His usually composed demeanor shattered like a clay pot dropped from a rooftop. A wheeze escaped his lips, followed by a burst of uncontrollable laughter. His shoulders shook and he clutched his sides, struggling to catch his breath..

Your eyes widened in surprise, a mixture of shock and amusement playing on your face. John's laughter was too funny and soon, you found yourself doubled over, laughter escaping your lips.

The room echoed with your laughter. The weight of the disagreement lifted, overshadowed by the sheer absurdity of the situation. Time seemed to stand still as the two of you laughed, tears streaming down your faces, muscles aching from the sheer force of your amusement.

Finally, as the laughter began to subside, John wiped a tear from his eye and managed to compose himself. His voice still tinged with residual chuckles, he says"That... that was unexpected." And soon you forgot about the disagreement and talked about something else.

John Price

You and John spent as much time together as you can. It became clear that your perspectives on certain matters didn't always align. One day, during a discussion about a topic with Kids and if they should have an iPad at such a young age for school, you both had different views.

"Okay boomer." you finally say as John said something only and older person would say.

Price raised an eyebrow, momentarily taken aback by your response. His eyes narrowed, and he leaned forward, his voice laced with confusion. "Boomer, am I? I may be old, but I'm not that old. Don't underestimate me."

Your laughter escaped your lips, filling the air that even John couldn't resist. He watched you, a mixture of confusion and amusement playing across his features.

"What's so funny?" he asked, unable to contain a smile of his own.

You composed yourself, wiping away tears of laughter. "John, it was just a joke."

Price's stern expression softened, a glimmer of understanding in his eyes. "Ah, I see. So, it's just a harmless jab, then?"

You nodded, still chuckling. "Exactly." you said.

Price leaned back, a small smirk tugging at his lips. "Well, I'm glad we got that cleared up."

Kyle Garrick

One sunny afternoon, as you and Kyle lounged around the base, the topic of conversation took an unexpected turn. A lively debate came up with you expressing your opinion and Kyle fervently defending his own.

"Okay boomer," you exclaimed.

A look of mock outrage crossed Kyle's face as he showed offense. "Hey now, I'm not even old! I‘m not even 30?" he replied, defending himself.

You couldn't help but burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the air. He looked amused and in that moment he understood that it was satire and you didn’t mean it actually.

Kyle's expression softened, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "You!" he said letting out a chuckle himself.

[ghost-of-a-system]

are you guys like naturally close?? or do you fight sometimes too? i feel like, when we talk about our system and how we don't always get along, people get shocked. scandalized even. we care about each other, but theres a share of apathy and even dislike or hatred between parts. there have been lots of times we fight, and in bad situations we arent always a unified front - in fact, depending, it could get worse between us. there is love, but there is discord, and for some reason people (not you) think there can only be one or the other in systems. its weird.

i definitely wouldn't say we're naturally close, but just that it's more likely for us to be on okay or "i tolerate you" terms with one another.

we absolutely do fight, or at the very least have disagreements. we have had alters be rather controlling over the others, insult and berate others, and refuse to interact/cooperate with the rest of the system.

apathy between alters is common for us, especially ones who recently got here. i could relate it to feelings about coworkers. you work with or alongside them anyway in order to achieve or maintain something. not because you enjoy it. i know that's how i've felt ever since i got here. there's people who have cared a lot about me, both in my system and outside of it, over the years, but i don't feel much for them. that's really just my personality, though.

in shitty situations it's likely many of us are going to have differing opinions on what happened, as well as what we should do. it causes a lot of chaos and people fronting to make decisions without permission/communicating with the rest. it isn't fun, when we can't come to an agreement.

i'm sure there's systems who are entirely one or the other, either everyone's best friends or everyone's sworn enemies. props and respect to them, genuinely, but they sure as hell aren't the only two options. people saying otherwise are probably just coming from a place of yet again only thinking systems can present or be the way they think is ideal or convenient for them as an outsider. god forbid our disorders might make our lives messy and complicated instead of simple and clear for their sake!

[severalforraelee]

No More Fighting: Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

Photo credit to danielricciardo.com

Word count: 2,026

Written by raelee / Posted May 11

Masterlist

Formula 1 Masterlist

“And then Max-””Give me my hat!” “It’s my hat!” I watch as the two boys stumble into the kitchen, Kameron trying to rip the navy blue material off of his brother’s head.

“Boys, stop fighting with each other,” I holler to the two preteens, hissing as I grab the two burning hot waffles from the toaster while balancing the phone in between my shoulder and ear. “Sorry, babe, what were you saying?”

“Are they arguing?” Daniel asks, concern evident in his tone.

“Yeah, they’ve been fighting a lot recently,” a sigh is released as I notice Ryker and Kameron sitting at the table while they wait for me to serve them breakfast. They have innocent expressions on their faces but I can clearly see them kicking each other under the table.

“About what?”

“Normal sibling things. Clothes, food, interests,” I slide a waffle onto Ryker’s plate and a waffle onto Kameron’s plate, pointedly looking down at their feet to get them to stop.

“I feel like I should be there to help you,” my husband comments.

“Don’t be silly, Daniel, you should be doing whatever Red Bull needs you to do. They’re preteens, that’s the age when all siblings don’t get along,” I reassure him.

“I just don’t remember fighting with Michelle.”

“Yeah, well, we have two boys,” my eyes narrow at them as they begin to hit one another. “I have to go, Daniel. Have fun with Max and Checo today. Love you, bye.”

He says I love you and goodbye before we end our phone call for me to deal with our two rambunctious sons.

~

Daniel smirks at me as I stir the spaghetti sauce.

“What?”

“You just look good like this.”

“Like what?” I giggle, pulling the garlic bread out of the oven.

“Your hair pulled up into a messy clip, your face flushed. It brings me back to that one night that-””I finished my homework before Ryker did,” Kameron saunters into the kitchen, a smug smile on his face that matches his tone and words.

“It’s just because you’re younger than me and you get easier homework than I do,” Ryker scoffs, following closely behind his brother.

“I’m only a year younger than you,” the eleven year old defends himself.

“That makes you a year stupider-””Alright,” Daniel says loudly, interrupting our older son. “Let’s be nice to each other, okay?”

“Why? He doesn’t need his ego boosted any more,” Kameron asks.

“Oh, but you definitely do,” Ryker chuckles.

“Boys,” Daniel interrupts again. “What is with all of the fighting?”

“He just needs to be knocked down a few pegs,” our younger son responds.

“No, he doesn’t. You two are siblings, you should be uplifting each other, supporting each other, being a shoulder for the other one to lean on,” he encourages.

Kameron and Ryker stare at him blankly.

“Why?” Ryker asks. Kameron, surprisingly (or not surprisingly, I guess) nods in agreement.

“Because I said so,” Daniel’s face hardens. “Now go play Mario Kart or something, I don’t care, do something that’ll make you bond.”

“But won’t Mario Kart have us competing against each other?” Ryker questions.

“Just go,” Daniel demands.

The two boys huff in disagreement but head towards the living room. My husband turns back to face me, eyebrows raised and mouth open in exasperation.

“Don’t look at me, you’re the one who wanted a second child right away,” I tease.

“Sometimes they make me regret it,” he mumbles, leaning his lower back against the countertop next to me, crossing his arms.

“Oh, you weren’t the one who had to deal with them last week when they were fighting nonstop.”

He winces. “Are they that bad all of the time?”

“Honey, they inherited their dad’s arrogance. Of course they are.”

~

“Hi Max,” I grin at the Dutchman as he walks past Daniel in the background.

He turns towards the phone screen at the sound of my voice, a smile also appearing on his face. “Hi Y/N, how are you?”

“I’m good, how are you?”

“I’m doing well. The car is-”Before he can get into maxsplaining, he’s interrupted. “Mom, can you tell Ryker that it’s my turn on the Switch?”

“It’s not his turn, mom, he was on it for three hours straight yesterday.”

“I was not!”

“Yes, you were.”

“You’re a liar.”

“No, you’re a liar!”

“Stay childless as long as you can, Max,” I interrupt their fighting. It doesn’t seem to do anything, though, except make the boys bicker even louder to be heard over me.

“Boys, can you just make it easy for your mom for once?” Daniel requests.

“Well that’s hard to do when Kameron is such a- ow!” They start to argue again, completely disregarding their dad’s words.

“What are they arguing about?” Max questions, confused.

“Who’s turn it is to play on the Nintendo Switch,” Daniel answers.

“You just have one?”

I nod.

“Why don’t you get another one?”

I glare through the phone, not wanting Ryker and Kameron to hear the question but, of course, it instantly captures their attention.

“Yeah, why don’t you?” Kameron asks.

“Because you don’t need another Switch,” I answer.

“But we do!”

“Okay, fine, do you want another Switch or do you want that xBox for your birthday?” Daniel inquires, backing me up.

I turn to the boys with raised eyebrows, already knowing what the response will be. Kameron rolls his eyes but doesn’t say anything and Ryker kicks at the carpet, staring down at it.

“Just please stop fighting until I get home, your poor mother has to break up so many fights daily,” Daniel pleads, “You don’t want to send your mom into an early grave, do you?”

“Daniel,” I hiss.

“What?”

“Don’t act like I’m going to die just because they have a sibling rivalry.”

“Well if it gets them to stop, then why not?” he responds.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, babe.” I hang up the phone, now being the one to roll my eyes.

~

“Don’t be so nervous, they’ll be fine,” Daniel reassures me. He stands on the bleacher behind me, arms slung around my waist and chest pressed to my back as a way to comfort me. It doesn’t work, my hands still clasped in front of my face nervously.

“My two babies are karting right now, Daniel, I have to be nervous.” I watch the small blue kart speed on the track past where we’re standing, the red kart following closely behind. A few other karts drive behind them, but really, it’s a race between Ryker and Kameron.

When we introduced the boys to karting, we knew that they would often race against each other because of their small age gap. We thought that it would be a good thing- if they were to ever become teammates they would already have a bond, we would be able to go to karting competitions as a family, they would have a common interest.

What we didn’t think through, I guess, was that Ryker and Kameron would have to race against each other.

And with their competitive Ricciardo blood, it can get insane.

“I don’t like how close Ryker is getting to him,” I tell Daniel as the red kart is practically on the tail of the blue kart.

One wrong move and both boys will go flying into the wall.

“They’ll be fine-”Daniel pauses, taking in the scene. “No, he’s definitely too close to him.”

And then it happens. Kameron falters on a corner while Ryker goes full force, most likely predicting that Kameron will go full force as well. Ryker clips the back of his brother’s kart, sending Kameron’s kart spinning into the wall and Ryker’s kart to slide straight into it.

Daniel and I stand by the side of the track, watching as they help their coaches pull their now damaged karts out of the way. I wait in worry, eyebrows crinkled as I watch my sons for any visible signs of hurt, while Daniel crosses his arms beside me, fury coming off him in waves. Once I see that Ryker and Kameron are safe and sound, I pull them into my arms in a tight embrace.

I don’t care if I’m embarrassing them right now, all I care about is that they’re safe.

“I was so worried about you two,” I confess.

Ryker rips himself out of my arms, glaring daggers at his brother. “I don’t even want to be near him right now.”

“You don’t want to be near me right now? You’re the one who ruined my race,” Kameron sneers, resting back into my arms.

“You should’ve just let me pass-””Why would I let you-””Enough,” Daniel’s voice interrupts the bickering once again.

But this time, his tone is different. It’s no longer his comforting, fatherly tone. It’s stern. It’s strict. It’s one-more-word-and-you’ll-suffer-my-wrath dangerous.

Ryker and Kameron notice the tone change because they instantly stop their fighting, standing up straight and staring down at the ground blankly.

“I am so sick of you two always fighting. That little incident on the track was dangerous, not only for you but for your competitors. You let your egos come ahead of safety, something that you promised me and your mother that you would never do. And your mother- she’s had to deal with you two fighting at home for months. But now she has to worry about you fighting on the track, too?”

Ryker and Kameron don’t respond, frozen in place.

“No, you know what, I’m done with this.” Daniel holds out the set of keys to our car. “Go to the car and figure out whatever is going on between you. I don’t care if you ever tell us what it is- I’m tired of dealing with this fighting. Don’t come back until you can agree on a way to figure out your disagreements without letting it affect your other relationships.”

Kameron silently takes the keys, Ryker surprisingly not putting up a fight to grab the keys first. He knows that if he does, Daniel will lay into him.

We watch the two walk in the direction of the car and Daniel wraps his arm around my waist. He sighs. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” I look up at him.

“Maybe if I was around more they would be more well-behaved.”

“Are you saying that I didn’t raise our kids to be well-behaved, Ricciardo?” I raise my eyebrows at him.

His eyes widen frantically. “No, of course not-””I’m kidding,” I reassure him. “We know that you’re doing good work at Red Bull, Daniel. We admire you for it.”

He sighs. “It’s just hard to want to keep doing it. Especially in times like these. They could’ve gotten seriously injured out there, Y/N.”

“I know,” I agree, rubbing his back in support.

It’s the first time in all of the years that I’ve been with Daniel that I’ve seen him this shaken up. He’s known for being the calm and humorous presence in the paddock, but right now he’s anything but. His tone is shaky, I saw him blink away the tears brimming in his eyes. Our sons’ crash really affected him.

About twenty minutes go by, Daniel and I watching the rest of the race in silence, before the boys walk back from the car.

“We’re sorry for scaring you guys on the track just now,” Kameron starts.

“And we’re sorry for making it so hard for you while dad’s away, mom,” Ryker continues. “We’ve decided to… compromise from now on, instead of fighting over everything.”

“And to be more understanding of each other,” Kameron adds.

I reach out, resting a hand on each of their shoulders. “I’m proud of you boys.”

“Me too,” Daniel adds. “And we accept your apology.”

“Okay, Ricciardo family hug,” I cheer, pulling the boys into yet another hug. Daniel hugs me from behind, wrapping his long arms around me and our two sons.

“I love you, mom,” Kameron tells me.

“I love you more, mom,” Ryker teases.

I can sense Daniel giving him a look from over my shoulder.

“Too soon?”

“Way too soon.”

[serenasoutherlyns]

so you're a stranger again

Benovak, teen. Ao3. Thanks to @jelestes who encouraged me to finish this.

The woman across the room from her eyed her again, this time unsubtly, undressing her with her eyes. Olivia shivered, the look was so unabashed, so full of desire that it made her cheeks burn. The woman tossed her red hair over her shoulder before putting down her glass on the bar. Olivia’s heart pounded: she was making her way over to her.

Casey looked so good that Olivia almost couldn’t keep from kissing her as soon as she could reach her. She wore a green satin dress that Olivia didn’t recognize. It clung to her body, showing off everything, the open back especially had Olivia’s heart racing. She must’ve gone shopping for the occasion, Olivia couldn’t imagine when. The dim light in the lounge glinted off the clear pendant of her gold necklace.

“Hey gorgeous,” Casey said in that seductively low tone of hers, “can I buy you a drink?”

---

One year ago…

“That new DA’s a piece of work,” said Elliot, rubbing his temples. “I don’t know what Branch is thinking.” Olivia hummed in agreement. “She is kind of your type, though.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Olivia.

“Tall, skinny, pale,” he said, “plus you love lawyers.”

“Two,” said Olivia, “I’ve dated two.”

“More than I have,” said Elliot. “I’m just teasing you. Plus, no way she lasts more than a couple months in sex crimes.”

“Let’s hope. Why do we even need an assigned DA anyway?”

—-

“That would be lovely, thank you,” said Olivia in reply. Casey smiled at her and beckoned to the bartender. Somehow, she even made that gesture sexy.

“What am I getting you?” she asked. Casey’s voice was still, deep, and driving Olivia insane.

“Whiskey and soda,” said Olivia. She thought she would branch out tonight, after all, they weren’t themselves for an evening. She played with her necklace for a moment, hoping it would call Casey’s attention to her décolletage. It worked. Casey cleared her throat before ordering.

“May I take this seat?” Casey asked. Her girlfriend, not her girlfriend for the night, didn’t abandon her chivalrous nature. Olivia nodded and Casey slid into the seat beside her gracefully.

“I’m Casey,” she said. “Who do I have the pleasure of sitting beside tonight?” In another situation, if it really were a stranger, Olivia might’ve laughed at the pickup line. They were already playing a game, though, so it didn’t feel silly.

“Olivia. It’s nice to meet you, Casey.” She held her hand out for an introduction, and Casey took it. Instead, she kissed.

“The pleasure is all mine, Olivia.” The bartender came back with her whiskey soda and Casey thanked her. Olivia took a steadying sip. She knew she had no reason to be nervous, but her hands still shook a little. Casey just looked so good, was being so shamelessly seductive, that she couldn’t help it. For a moment, Casey’s glances faltered. She placed a hand on Olivia’s shoulder, reassuring. “What brings you out tonight?” Casey asked.

“Long day at work,” said Olivia, which wasn’t a lie. “Figured I’d unwind before I went home. What about you?”

“Similar,” said Casey. “My coworkers drive me insane, sometimes.” Olivia almost laughed at this. She knew Casey was talking about Elliot. The two of them had gotten into a little disagreement at work that day. If it had gotten much farther, Olivia may have had to break it up.

“Mine too,” said Olivia.

---

One week ago…

“Do you ever wish we’d met differently?” Olivia asked. Casey was beside her on a mostly-wordless Saturday night that they were spending with takeout, crosswords, and the latest Belle and Sebastian album. Casey took a moment to respond.

“What brings that to your mind?” She said. Olivia stretched, and when she was done, rested her hand on Casey’s thigh.

“I mean,” said Olivia, “I think we make a pretty good couple. But we met with so much conflict, sometimes I wish it was different.” Casey considered it.

“I’ve had that thought,” said Casey. “Don’t you think it makes us closer that we know how to fight?”

“I do,” said Olivia. “Still, sometimes I wish we’d been two strangers at a bar.”

“You romantic,” said Casey. Olivia had never considered herself one before Casey, even with previous girlfriends she’d been reserved in that area. With Casey, though, she would show up on her doorstep with roses and was even letting her teach her how to cook. She sometimes would imagine meeting Casey for the first time without all the fighting, Casey’s presence outside of work that she was so fond of. Casey’s voice broke her chain of thought. “We could always have a do-over.”

“What do you mean?” Said Olivia.

“Pretend we don’t know each other,” Casey said. “Be those two strangers in a bar. I’d kind of like to try and pick you up, actually. Show off my game.”

“Your game,” said Olivia. “I know you’ve got game.”

“What if you pretended you didn’t? Let’s both wear something pretty and go to the same bar one night. It’ll be fun,” said Casey. Olivia was starting to get to know every side of Casey, a couple months into dating her, but she didn’t know she had quite that capacity for whimsy.

“You wanna seduce me, Novak?” Olivia said. She had butterflies thinking about it, which seemed like a good sign.

“I do,” said Casey. “I’d love to.” The word love made Olivia’s butterflies race even faster. She really did know that she loved Casey, but hadn’t said it yet. Maybe it was a little too early still. Maybe she was just nervous.

“Okay,” said Olivia, “let’s do it.” Casey grinned at her. She very smoothly took Olivia in her arms and kissed her.

“I can’t wait to meet you,” she said. Olivia relaxed further into her touch, and went back to her crossword.

---

After talking for a while, Casey asked Olivia the question she’d been dying to hear all night.

“Would you like to get out of here?” Olivia nodded at first, and took the final sip of her drink. They closed the tab, and then Casey popped out of her chair. She look Olivia’s hand as if to help her down. She did it so effortlessly. Olivia was so glad they’d decided to do this tonight. The cab ride back to Casey’s dragged on painfully slowly. Everyone in New York seemed to forget to drive in the rain. Casey made it entertaining, though torturously. She started with holding Olivia’s hand, then moved to her thigh. If they really were strangers, perhaps it would be too forward, but Olivia did not mind. She eventually leaned over the middle seat and kissed her, chastely then deeply. She felt a little bad for the cabbie, but figured he’d seen worse.

When they got inside, Casey offered Olivia another drink, but she declined. She wanted a totally clear mind. Casey had gone so far as to do a little bit of redecorating to make the space seem different, not like the apartment Olivia spent so many hours at these days. The thoughtfulness of that fact made Olivia’s chest warm. She picked up the kiss where they had left off in the car. She pressed Casey against her kitchen counter, holding her hips. Casey may be the seductress, but Olivia knew she was the one guiding. When she had Casey’s breaths quick, she pulled her into her bedroom. This was breaking character a little, but she didn’t care. She needed Casey, and knew Casey needed her.

In the calm of the early morning, Olivia knew it was time. In a completely quiet moment, she sat up on her elbows to observe, make sure Casey was awake.

“Hey, Casey?” she said. “I love you.”

“On the first night we meet?” Said Casey teasingly. “You move a little fast there, Olivia.” Olivia blushed.

“I, maybe I should’ve waited to say it.”

“No,” said Casey, “I wish I’d said it weeks ago. I love you too, Olivia.” Olivia took her hand and drew circles on the back.

“You were not kidding about seducing me, by the way. Jesus, you’re hot. That dress…” Casey laughed. “Thank you for making me do this.”

“My pleasure,” said Casey. She sat up to kiss Olivia. It said everything.