#and if she doesn’t find them I’ll probably get her a new pair next month

[lavendercatboy-blog]

Guess who upon the arrival of her ex boyfriend to her apartment, has been extremely cuddly and clingy, and has been very anxious every time she’s blurted out “I love you” by accident?

Girlie you are so not subtle, I love you too, and that doesn’t have to be anything more than that. (I basically said that to her and she immediately wanted a hug and sat with me for a second before anxiously leaving, I adore her so much)

[almostheav4n]

Tomorrow Never Came: Chapter 2

masterlist | ao3

pairing: joel miller x f!reader rating: 18+ warnings: unspecified age gap, hints at past SA, no break-out, no y/n, no reader description, discussion of past trauma, reader develops a reliance on him, hints at a ddlg relationship in terms of a caregiver x little relationship (reader is of legal age) word count: 3,693 summary: set in Texas in the 1980s, Joel picks you up on the side of the road when headed west, you embark upon a journey of self-discovery with the help of a seasoned man a/n: lots of fluff in this chapter before it gets real - Joel honestly doesn't seem like a guy who would rush anything so he gets a little push by the reader :p

“He looks like he works with his hands & smells like Marlboro reds…”

The morning light pierces through the flimsy motel curtain as you toss over on the mattress, stuffing your face into the pillows, as you blink away your grogginess. 

The sudden pounding at your door is enough to jolt you awake as you realize suddenly it’s Joel, springing up to sit on the bed before checking the time.

“Bout ready to head out?” His voice bellows from outside the door, slower and thicker from his own sleep. You can see the outline of him through the window and it makes you hyper-aware you haven’t washed up in the slightest, quickly giving yourself a smell as you lift your arms.  

It’s easy to tumble out of bed, tripping onto the floor, attempting to hurry as you stumble over the sheets, closer to the door, “Um, I um, just need a few minutes, maybe you can get breakfast or somethin’, I dunno, Ill be ready then…” 

You huff and puff trying to find your discarded clothes from the night, cursing yourself for not washing them the night before, smelling them, and finding it honestly quite fine, thank god. 

“No…” You can hear him thinking. “Ya need’ta eat, I’ll make myself busy, take your time,” He mumbles departing with two knuckle knocks on the door as you watch his figure disappear. 

You find yourself surprised by his reaction, half expecting him to get annoyed, maybe rush you at least. You wonder deep down if it’s a trick and you’ll find his truck gone. 

The truck remains there, however, spotting it in the lot after a good half hour of scrubbing your teeth clean and taking a hot shower to wipe away any grime left by sleep. 

You knock on the only door next to you, finding that Joel isn’t it. Eventually taking it upon yourself to find him. 

It’s not hard to spot him, dressed in fresh attire, forgetting he had planned on this trip & packed for it accordingly. His handheld luggage at his side while he talks to a woman, a young woman, probably around your age as they pass a cigarette between them. She laughs at something you can’t hear as she passes it back to him. 

You are quite well aware he doesn’t owe you anything, he doesn’t owe you any sense of loyalty, in fact, you feel in debt to him. But the rock in your belly sits hard as you come to understand he is a solid man, a good man. Women will want him, he’ll inevitably attract him and it’s stupid of you to feel jealous as he leans over to talk to her, wishing it was you.

Bitterness is ugly, sits on your tongue quite heavily though, makes your fingers flex as you cough, loudly, a bit too loudly, gaining both their attention as Joel’s back straightens up before turning to you, breathing the bit of smoke left from his nostrils. 

“Ready, darlin’?” He adjusts the luggage in his hand, walking over to take the bag in your hands, once used for the new shoes, now used for all your belongings that were shoved in your utility jacket pockets, feeling lighter for the first time in months.  

You happily allow him to, nodding up to him in approval as he tosses the girl a farewell before turning back to lead you to the truck, allowing for you to cut your eyes back at her. Watching as she returns a similar annoyed expression. 

He opens the door for you before getting in on his side and sliding the bags underneath the seats, starting up the truck with a quick motion. 

“Who’s the chick?” You hum, attempting to seem as nonchalant as possible, hoping not to come across any other way.  

“Not sure, wanted a smoke, only had one left,” He shrugs, pulling the vehicle out of the lot and onto the road with a few harsh bumps. 

You nod, twiddling your thumbs in a circle as you bite your lip back, calculating your response. 

“Jealous?” 

You don't expect it, your head shooting up to find his eyes already on you, a hidden grin where his hand that’s not on the wheel, scratches at his beard as he raises one brow, teasingly. 

“Joel, I’m not…..” You shake your head, unable to stop the tremble that knocks your words apart as you attempt to correct him, “I’m not jealous.” You lie. 

“Just teasin is all, don’t waste your time worryin’ now…” He chuckles, Texan accent flowing over like honey, focusing his gaze back on the road, leaving you breathless as you feel you didn’t state your case as clearly as you could've. Feeling found out. 

You remind yourself to quit the longing glances, that could've given you away. 

You don’t even realize you’re still staring at him, lost in your own thoughts but you think you almost miss it, the quirk of the corner of his mouth, a small tinge of redness coming to his face then settling, a blush. 

Eventually, he pulls into a lot of a diner. You’re seated quite quickly, in a booth towards the back, menus handed to you as Joel immediately orders a coffee, you stick with a hot chocolate watching Joel's brow raise at that. 

“You like sweets huh?”

“I do…” You nod, gaze focused on the menu before looking up to him, “think it’s cause I’m quite sweet too…”

He smiles a bit then, the first actual smile from him, a quick flash of the teeth before disappearing under his thick beard. 

“You are… sweet.” He agrees, calculating his words before focusing his attention on the menu, giving you little time to react to his comment. 

“Need you to get real food in your system, understand?” His eyes latch onto yours as you nod, desiring the least to see him upset by your actions. 

He sets his eyes back on the menu, “Good girl.” 

Good girl. 

It’s all you can focus on when the waitress returns to drop off drinks and take orders, the wheels in your head turning over the comment, good girl, good girl, good girl. 

It isn’t until Joel says your name, alerting you to look up apologetically, ordering a nice stack of pancakes, something you haven’t had in months, allowing her to take the menus. 

The hot chocolate presented stacks high with whipped cream, you scoop up a fluff of it in your index finger, bringing it to your mouth to suck gently, gaining the confidence to speak, “Joel?” 

His gaze is stern as he looks out the window, focused on some altercation outside between two men over god knows what, “Yeah?”

“You can kiss me ‘f ya want.” You bring the mug to your lips watching as his eyes cut to you, quickly, watching a gulp go down his throat, maintaining his hard exterior nonetheless. 

“That right?” His voice is softer than ever, as if he’s whispering a secret as you nod, taking a sip. 

You wondered all night if him putting you in another room was an act of kindness or if he maybe was gay or if he didn’t even necessarily view you as anything but platonic. But you want to make yourself clear. You want him to know of your blossoming feelings.

You set the mug down, feeling the whipped cream along your upper lip, tracing your tongue over the spot to remove it, watching as he sucks in a quick breath. 

He’s swift, moving from the booth. For a quick moment, you think you may have scared him off. Instead, he slides in next to you, your body pressed between him and the wall by the booth, his burly arm snaking around your waist to pull you close to his chest, as you release a soft quick gasp before his lips connect with yours, your hands holding to his chest to sturdy yourself as his warm mouth opens onto yours feeling his tongue slip into your mouth, velvety smooth. 

You moan, too loudly for the small diner as it's absorbed into his mouth, your eyes closing, allowing him to take the lead as his mouth moves against yours roughly and eagerly as if he hasn’t kissed someone in decades, completely at his will. 

It isn’t until the sound of plates scraping against the table gains both of your attention as he breaks away suddenly, leaving a whine to linger at your lips as he turns to the waitress who doesn’t seem to care one bit as Joel releases you. 

“I’ll be back, gon’ get some fresh air…” He mumbles before sliding out of the booth, running his hands through his hair before setting his hat on, walking towards the door, and soon exiting. 

It would worry you if you couldn’t see him, walking towards a payphone outside and making a call. 

You wonder what the hurry was but busy yourself with your pancakes, sopping them up in a ridiculous amount of syrup, before digging in. 

You eat slowly watching him argue with someone on the phone, his body language showing clear agitation as you sip your beverage. 

Eventually, he comes back soon after, apologizing, “Sorry, forgot to make a call earlier…” 

He sighs deeply, tearing into his eggs, the runny yolk bleeding onto the sausage on the plate. 

“What was that about?” You hum happily, content, patting your full belly. 

“Work.” 

“Sure it wasn’t your wife?” You test the waters, never noticing a ring but just in case, to be safe. 

“Ain’t got a wife,” he stuffs sausage into his mouth, “Think Im’a type of man to smooch on ya before headin’ home to my old lady?” 

“You’re older, Joel. Usually, men like you are married…” You tease, rubbing your foot along his leg under the table 

“I'm older huh?” He smirks a bit, raising his brow, bringing his coffee mug to his lips.  

“Yeah, you’re an old man Joel…” you lean over, resting your elbows on the table as your hands cup your face in admiration, your foot still knocking against his leg.  

“What do you do?” You question, desiring to know him fully. 

“Construction… just need to make calls every now’n then to make sure dumbasses don’t fuck up while I’m gone.” He clicks his mouth once more, annoyed it seems by the whole interaction on the phone. You decide to leave it alone

He eats quickly, quite loudly too. It makes you want to laugh, all his Southern charm replaced by a grumbling food monster when eating. 

He pays the check after finishing, mentioning the need to get you some clothes as the waitress brings by the change, he leaves a tip on the table. 

“You don’t like my clothes?” You gasp, fake offended, understanding what he means. 

To be fair you hadn’t shoplifted any clothes recently & the jeans that you wore now full of tears and rips matched the shirt that could give at any moment. 

“Ya know I can’t pay you back right?” You remind him, following him out as he holds the door open for you. 

“I am very well aware of that, sweetheart.” He chuckles lightly as if it’s the most obvious thing you’ve ever stated. 

You’re quick to turn to him though, in the middle of the lot, standing on your tiptoes to get the best angle as you press your lips to his once more, quickly, a peck, a little test of the boundaries to see his reaction. 

He returns it once you depart, his hand coming around the back of your neck, his mouth crashing onto yours, hot and hungry, before releasing, taking your hand in his warm and dry, leading you to the truck, following the same routine of scanning the lot, opening your door, before focusing on getting back on the road. 

The trip before Joel seems to come crashing down on you, the need for rest, the knowing that Joel is there that reassures your safety. 

Understanding you have true protection is enough to have you falling asleep in the seat until the jolt of the brakes has you blinking back the sun that has begun to slip below the horizon, realizing you slept through the day. 

“C'mon, sleeping beauty…” Joel jokes lightly, as your passenger's side door opens. 

You groan, too loudly and in an extremely un-lady like manner, stretching out your limbs as you smack open a yawn, clearing the sleep from your eyes. 

“Did I really sleep that long?” you murmur as Joel wraps his arm around your waist, hoisting you out with a surprised squeal as your feet connect with the pavement, a giggle spilling from your lips.  

“Sure did…” He helps to straighten you out, pulling your shirt down where it exposes your stomach slightly. 

You allow him, feeling pampered as he observes you to make sure you’re put together before giving you a hard nod, approving of his work. 

He takes your hand as you finally gain full consciousness, leading you into the building labeled ‘WAL MART’ 

Passing cars in the lot, you’re able to read ‘New Mexico’ on the license plates as you become aware you’re in a new state. Once in the shopping center, a buggy is presented as Joel turns to you, looking down at you with a familiar hard gaze, and for some reason, you come to understand when he’s wearing this look, he’s serious and means business. His eyes narrowing in and focusing as you know he needs you to listen as you look back up at him, blinking up at him as if he is the only thing that matters in the world. 

“You’re gonna go get some clothes and a bag to store 'em in, I need you to fill er up-” referencing the buggy, “I'll be ‘round, getting supplies alright?” 

He adjusts his pants, fidgeting on his belt as he looks around and then back to you. 

You nod, offering a little salute followed by a ‘yes sir’ and giggle before he presses a chaste kiss to your mouth, sending you on your way. 

You do indeed, fill’er up with an assortment of clothes, pajamas, bras, underwear, some shorts, skirts, jeans, and an arrangement of tops and you find a duffel bag that could surely hold it all. You also decide to shop for some feminine care items, sniffing at the different body & hair washes for far too long before finally making your way to find him. 

After looking down far too many aisles, you find him in the firearm section, talking to the worker who shows him a certain gun. You keep planted where you are, not wishing to interrupt, studying him, admiring him as he purchases it at the counter. 

You could've sworn he had one in the truck, saw it in passing. Maybe he just needs another you think, just in case.

“Starin ain’t too friendly baby doll...” He mutters taking control of the grocery cart before pushing it, sliding his basket on top filled with first aid and other basic necessities. 

“Just too handsome, can’t help it,” you apologize with a teasing shrug, looping your arm into his as you walk. 

He gives you a slight snort before you make it to the checkout stand. His hard hand pushes you back slightly out of the way so he can unload the cart. 

You busy yourself as you pick up a nearby magazine off a rack, the corny headline gaining your attention as you flip through it, only for Joel to snatch it from you. 

“Hey!” You whine, nose scrunching up in annoyance as he hands it to the cashier who scans it before he hands it back to you, nudging you out of the way a bit more as he throws the bagged items back into the cart. 

A certain freedom is found as you skip back to the truck, no worries or cares as Joel hollers at you to slow down, the sun now gone, making it easy for a car to hit you, you realize.  

You offer to help pack the bags into the back only for Joel to shoot you a disapproving look, that has you piling into the truck with a quickness. 

Eventually, you both are able to make it to a nearby motel. He tells you that you can stay in the car as he pulls up to the lobby of the motel. 

You decide against it, opening the door as the car barely rolls to a stop. 

“Hey now…” Joel warns, still in the vehicle as he sighs, stressed. Kinda makes your heart beat, his worried reaction. 

“You need to wait till I'm in park and I’ll open the door for you… you understand that?” He speaks seriously once he exits the vehicle, his eyes cutting down at you as his hands place on his hips, seemingly exhausted by your antics as you nod, moving closer to him as your feet scrape against the pavement. 

Your body collides against his chest as you lean up against him to kiss the scar on his nose before reaching up to grab his hat, setting it on your head instead. 

“I got it Joel, but how do I look?” You swiftly change the conversation as he folds his arms over his chest, veins prominent as he flexes lightly. 

“You’re as pretty as a peach in June, ‘f I say so myself, now c’mon…” He offers a small smile before reaching his hand out. 

You take it, sliding your own against it before taking your other hand to cover the other side of his, keeping a two-handed grip as he leads you into the lobby that plays 60’s music & holds an older dude at the front counter who reads a Playboy magazine. 

It takes Joel about a second to place you behind him, before walking up to the counter to greet the guy who speaks in grunts. 

“How many rooms yall need?” 

“One!” You squeak out, poking out from behind his back before Joel pushes you back behind him. 

“Alright, one room, two beds…” Joel mumbles, fishing into his pocket for his wallet as you pout. 

“Joel…” you grumble, fingers tracing along his brawny back. 

“You ain’t getting me into trouble tonight,” He whispers over his shoulder as you can’t help but break out into a smile. He’s old, probably too tired from the drive, you try to remember to tease him about just that. 

“What’d you want to eat?” He asks once you settle into the room, unpacking the Walmart bags, folding your new clothes neatly into the duffel, using the various pockets for other items picked up. 

“Not hungry…” You hum lightly, throwing some pajamas on the bed for post-shower wear. 

“Darlin’…” You know this tone, his stern one, a warning. 

“Joel…” You whine. “I’m used to eating corn nuts every two days, I gotta warm up to eating more food, but I promise I'll eat more.” 

You are quick to hurry to press a kiss to his lips where he stands by the door with arms crossed over his chest, an attempt to shut him up before making your way to the bathroom to turn on the shower, avoiding his disappointment. 

“Alright, I’ll be back real soon…” He hollers as you hear the door open and close. 

Your shower is one of the best ones you can remember. The water hot and the tub not as grimey as others you have come across, but the fact you can wash your hair and scrub every inch of yourself is refreshing. You wish for Joel to know how grateful you are. 

Eventually, you slink into your shorts and tank top made for sleeping, flicking on the television to some Western film, before painting your toenails with some red polish picked up earlier. 

Joel returns eventually, scolding you for not locking the door behind him as you blow onto your drying nails, apologizing before seeing that he brought back some greasy takeout. 

He kicks off his shoes aggressively, exhaustingly, placing some type of chicken nugget and fries on your bed as you roll your eyes slightly but no better than to challenge him, his hard stern telling you to “just eat”. 

You do eat it, dipping fries into ketchup, not wanting to refuse him of anything. Laying on your tummy to eat in silence, watching the film that Joel says is one of his favorites as he finishes his food fast and soon finds himself in the shower after the film ends. 

You try to stay awake to wish him goodnight, maybe get a goodnight kiss but sleep is heavy on you as you eventually wake up to pure darkness & the bedside clock glowing at 3:09 a.m. 

You can’t see him in the room, but you hear his deep snores as you remove yourself from your bed, realizing he must’ve tucked you in as you tear off the sheets. Soft footsteps lead you over to his bed, lifting the covers to slide in. 

You hope it won’t disturb him, you hope he’s comfortable with it as you wrap your arm around him, his back pressed to your chest as you kiss him there, once then twice. 

He stirs, a light sleeper you discover, grunting as he turns towards you, feeling his beard scrape against your cheek as you squeak, his warm lips connecting to yours, softly, sweetly. You sigh openly into the kiss as your tongue pushes against his, a groan whispering in his throat as you desire more. 

However, he’s quick to turn you over, pressing his chest to your back as your body curves to fit into his body, attempting not to pout at the loss of affection but grateful as you find yourself exhausted. 

It isn’t difficult to miss the hardness pressed against your bottom as he holds you tightly to him, it makes you coo as you move closer to one another, his face fitting into the crook of your neck as his breath there gives you butterflies & tickles your skin, your thighs clenching as you rest your hand over his on your stomach. 

“Night, Joel.” 

“Goodnight, sweet girl.” 

[gxldenlush]

Wedding date || c.s

Pairing: best friend!chris x fem!reader

Summary: y/n needs a date to her competitive sisters wedding.

Warnings: use of y/n, nickname (ma), random names for sister & her husband, slow burn (no development in this part)

A/n: gonna be a series so lmk if you want part 2. semi proofread😓

word count: 1840

Pink=y/n

Orange=chris

༻☙✽༺

“But I hate weddings! I doubt she even wants me there anyways” I’m currently pacing around my bedroom, protesting to my best friends reasoning as to why I should go to my sisters wedding next month.

“It might be fun, y/n. You might meet someone” Chris shrugs on his end of the already 3 hour long FaceTime.

“That’s the thing, I told her I had a boyfriend last month when she came over for dinner” I now regret this lie, but at the time I didn’t know that my sister would get married so quickly.

“Y/n, you are the most single person I know, and this is me talking! Why would you even tell her that you were dating someone?”

I instantly roll my eyes at the thought of my sisters competitive attitude. “You know what she’s like, Chris. She’s always trying to one-up me, i just told her about my new job and she instantly adds on that she got a promotion as though what I said meant nothing.” I stop my pacing and I throw myself backwards onto my bed with a groan.

“So you tried to one-up her?”

“No, she started talking about her boyfriend and how perfect he is, mom gave me that expectant look, you know the one? Her smile says “it’s okay” but her eyes say “if you say the opposite of what I want you to say, I wont talk to you for weeks”. I just cracked!”

“And now you have a non-existent boyfriend?”

“Yep” i sigh dramatically which pulls a laugh out of Chris. “So when she was on the phone talking about her wedding, she told me i could bring my boyfriend, I couldn’t say no!”

“Why didn’t you just say you broke up?”

“No way, that’s so much worse! Do you think Nick could pretend to be straight for one night?” I only half joke, genuinely willing to try anything.

Chris laughs loudly at my suggestion “Nick couldn’t even pretend to be straight when he thought he was straight! Look, how about this, if you can’t get a better solution by the week before your sisters wedding, I’ll go with you.”

I sit up and my eyes widen and shine with hope and gratitude as they look down at Chris on my screen.

“really? You’d do that for me?”

“Sure, why not.”

“That would be amazing, I’ll let you know, alright?”

Chris nods and changes the subject slightly.

“So, your sisters… fiancé… how long have they even been together?”

“Like six months? I don’t get it, honestly.I know the whole ‘when you know, you know’ stuff genuinely happens for some people but, I’d still want to be with them for much longer just in case, you know? Even if they propose at that time, I’d stay engaged for a while first.”

“Yeah, I agree. I feel like they probably don’t even know each other totally yet”

“Exactly!”

“Yeah, I think you have to know a girl for at least a year before knowing if she’s ’the one’, y’know?”

“I agree”

We’re silent for a few seconds before i mumble another comment. “He’s kind of creepy too, I do’t like him.”

“Creepy?” Chris’ tone has altered ever so slightly. Concerned. Protective.

“Yeah, he’s always staring, doesn’t understand personal space… he’s just strange”

“Does he make you uncomfortable?”

“A little bit, but I think that’s just because I don’t really know him.” I scoff. “My sister doesn’t even know him and she’s marrying him”

“If he ever does anything to you-”

“Which he wont”

“If he does… you’ll tell me. Right?”

“Of course I would.” He flashes me a smile.

“So anyway, did you figure out who ate your pop tarts?”

“I don’t know for sure but I’m fully convinced it was Matt”

We continue going through random conversational topics until we both fall asleep. A call that lasts about 5 hours? That’s normal for us, every single night that we aren’t seeing each other in person.

༄

“So, did you find a date for your sisters wedding?”

It’s a week before the wedding and I had no luck in finding a date. I shake my head as I hand him a Pepsi.

“Damn… so what colour tie should I wear?”

“You still want to be my date?”

“Sure, it’ll be fun. Besides, you can talk shit to me about your sister the whole time if you want” He smiles, knowing that sentence alone will convince me.

“Alright, but only if you’re okay with going?”

“Of course I am. One thing though”

“Yeah?”

“Your sister fucking hates me” he laughs

“Oh well” i shrug “Emma hates everyone that doesn’t love her as much as she loves herself. besides she’ll just have to deal with the fact that I love my totally real boyfriend”

“Awh, you love me?” He plays into the joke “damn, you’re saying it this quick? You’re turning into her”

“Woah, that’s not even funny!” I try to sound serious, but I can’t help but laugh.

“Wear your yellow tie, if you still have it, the one you wore for homecoming?”

“Yeah I’ve still got it, are you wearing yellow?”

I nod with a smirk “she hates yellow, and I look great in it”

“Ooh, we’re going bitchy for this wedding. I love it”

༄

“Hey, I’m here, are you almost ready?” Chris says over the phone as I finish up my hair in the mirror.

“Almost, just finishing my hair, just come up”

He hangs up the phone, I assume he’s walking into the house, I hear him walk up the stairs and lightly knock on my door.

“Come in” I turn to face the door, smoothing out my yellow dress as he opens the door.

When I take sight of Chris, my heart flutters. He looks so handsome. I can’t help but find hin attractive. I note that his eyes widen when he sees me.

“Holy shit, ma. You look gorgeous.” He sounds breathless, i think nothing of it, maybe he walked here.

“Thanks, you don’t look so bad yourself” I smile as I make my way over to him, I raise his tie and put the end of it against my dress. “Perfect match”

“Like fate”

“Or destiny” we laugh.

“Alright, let’s get going. Mom and dad are already there with Emma.”

“Shall we, m’lady?” He holds his arm out for me to link to.

“We shall” I laugh as I take his arm.

༄

The reception was lovely, I have to say. It was an outdoor wedding in the middle of summer, the weather was perfect and so were the vows. I am now sat at a table with Chris to my right and my father on my left with my sister beside him, drinking champagne and finishing dessert.

“So, y/n, how long have you and Connor been together?” My sister pipes up, clearly getting Chris’ name wrong on purpose.

“His name is Chris.” I reply through gritted teeth

“Oh, right. Silly me”

I roll my eyes as I conjure up more lies “we’ve been dating for about two months now, but we’ve ben friends for years”

“Yup, loved her even then” Chris adds in, leaning closer to me, placing his hand on my thigh, an action that is only visible to me, which confuses me. I smile at him, he kisses my cheek as I struggle to control my blush. What is happening to me?

Once we’ve finished dessert and our glasses of champagne, music starts to play, my sister and her new husband are called up by the DJ to begin their first dance. Everyone gathers around the dance floor to watch and record their first dance as a married couple. When I hear the song that’s playing, I scoff, shake my head and go sit down. Chris follows after me.

“Hey, don’t you wanna watch them dance?”

“No” I reply, sulking.

“What’s wrong?” He sits sideways in the chair next to me to face me, he takes my hands in his, seeing that I’m clearly upset.

“When we were kids, we used to watch Princess and the Frog, this song is from that movie. I told Emma that when I got married, this would be my first dance song.” I explain as an extended version of ‘Ma Belle Evangeline’ plays.

“Well, you can still dance to it now?”

“But-”

“Nope. No buts. When the DJ calls more people over to dance, we will dance too. Me and you.” He stand up and holds his hand out for me to take. “And we’ll dance a damn site better than them” he smirks.

“Now let’s get the bride and grooms parents and siblings up.”

I sigh and take Chris’ hand, he leads me to the dance floor and we start to slowly sway to the music, my arms around his neck and his hands on my waist.

And I love you, Evangeline…

I recognise his cheeky smile and I laugh as he takes my hand and starts to spin me around, we sway again, smiling and only looking at each other. Just as the song is ending, Chris dips me, like in the movie that I have also watched with him over the years. He slowly pulls me back up to stand when the song ands and everyone applauds. A huge mile on my face.

“Thank you”

“Anything for you, y/n” he smiles back at me, there’s a hint of something else in his eyes that I can’t quite place, all i know is that it’s something good.

The night goes well, apart from a few comments back and forth between my sister and I. We all laugh and dance and drink. That last one bars Chris, he doesn’t drink alcohol, even after Emmas new husbands many attempts to coax him into drinking something.

I ended up having to snap at him, which pissed off my sister to no end. “James! He said no!”. Emma didn’t speak to me after that.

“I’m just going to the bathroom, you gonna be alright alone?” I mumble to Chris as i pick up my handbag and stand up.

“Yeah sure, I’ll just talk to to your dad” He smiles up at me, I ruffle his hair to which he slaps my hand away making me laugh

“Wont be long” I make my way to the bathroom, leaving the large marquee and going into the main building behind it.

Walking down the hallway, I hear my name being called.

“Y/n!”

When I turn around im surprised by who meets my gaze

To be continued…

———

@mattscoquette

[kit-kat-katie]

At dusk, the nightmares and monsters start to play

A/N: two fics (barely) in a month??? haven't done this since September (god it's been a long three months, thank you all for bearing with me through the end of the year). hope everyone has had a good holiday season and is looking forward to the new year! (there's gonna be more action in the next part, this is the set up dw 🫶)

as a future heads-up, most of the chapters will be smaller in size so I can have the time to complete one a month while I'm working on school work. I'm aiming for 1.5-2k words a chapter, but there may be more depending on what I have due at that time.

TW: medical trauma, trauma in general, sad vibes, reader has a knee injury

Pairing: Finnick x GN! Reader (romantic)

Summary: You pay Katniss a visit in the infirmary, only to find that she's more remorseful than revenge-filled, which is a good sign for your other knee. Afterwards, you seek your room and find a comforting memory there, along with Finnick.

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Nightmares.

That was something you had grown to live with, as a victor of the Hunger Games. Your mentors had your back when it came to the nightmares, at first - all you saw when you went to sleep were the dead tributes that you had killed or seen killed. Why were you the one to live, out of all of them?

You were hesitate to approach Katniss after she had a bad nightmare and ran off - she was probably one of the last people that wanted to see you. The last time she saw you, she put an arrow into your knee that gave you the cane and limp that you’re known for in District 13.

Although you tried to tell Haymitch it wasn’t a good idea, he insisted.

“What harm could it cause you to see her?” Haymitch asks before his eyes land on your cane. “…that doesn’t count, Sunny.”

“You’re lucky I still like both of you after that happened.” You vaguely gesture to your knee before grabbing your cane and standing up. “I’ll go find her when she needs me.”

You were sure that Katniss didn’t trust you, but you were positive that she trusted the nurses around you even less. You couldn’t blame her - you were the exact same way. President Snow had insisted that his victors were in the best shape possible, so you had to go to routine doctor’s visits. The prodding and poking was enough to drive anyone nuts, but the vague memory of needles and surgeries sends a shudder down your back as you quicken your pace.

It’s better if she kills me than some poor nurse or doctor.

~

Once you approach the hospital ward, you slowly make your way to Katniss’s room. You peak inside her room to see her sitting up in bed with a younger girl brushing her hair.

You lightly knock, as to not startle the two girls, before making your way into the room.

“Sorry about your knee.” Katniss grumbles as you collapse into a nearby chair and let out an exhausted sigh.

“It’s okay. I probably would’ve done a lot worse in your scenario.” You shrug before leaning your cane against the hospital bed.

“It’s not okay-“ She tries to argue, but you aren’t having any of it.

“What’s done is done, and I have to live with the consequences. You should save your care for a much more worthy cause.” You see her fidgeting with the pearl that Peeta gave her. “We’ll get him back, I promise.”

“They won’t want to.”

“Does it matter what they want? You have more power than you think, Katniss.” The girl behind Katniss starts to look familiar as your eyes glance between the two girls. “You’re Primrose Everdeen, right?”

The girl doesn’t say anything until Katniss lightly bumps her shoulder.

“I am.” She quietly answers while continuing to brush Katniss’s hair.

The three of you linger in the room with contemplative silence before a man comes to bring Katniss to President Coin and Plutarch.

Primrose sets the hairbrush aside as you fetch your cane from the side of the bed.

“Those are nurse scrubs, right?” You ask as you grab the bed’s railing in order to get onto your feet.

“I’m trying to help out, as much as I can.” She answers before starting to make the hospital bed.

“If you’re anything like your sister, you’ll be a great nurse.” You offer her a warm smile that she quickly replicates.

Perhaps the future isn’t as messed up as I thought it was.

~

You return to the living quarters side of District 13, only to be bombarded by a few small children. The younger kids always ran up to you when they hear the click click click of your cane hitting the floor, as you often had squirreled away treats or extra bits of food from meals. You were willing to share, so you offered them a few small candies that you had snatched from the front desk of the hospital ward.

“Don’t give yourselves a stomach ache,” You warn them with a wagging finger, “otherwise, you’ll end up back there.”

The kids promise to be careful before running off, and you continue your journey back to your room. You had been discharged from the hospital ward, after your strong insistence that you were fine, which you were, but you had to have daily check-ups to make sure that your knee was alright.

You had the appointments in the morning - it wasn’t like you were getting any sleep, anyways - but your progress continued to be positive. You weren’t going to be in fighting shape for a long time, and you might limp for the rest of your life, but the cane may get to be retired in another week or two.

Your bed can’t be found soon enough, and when you do find it, you set your cane on the ground before laying down on the bed. 

You had given so much effort into your capital duties - being a “model citizen”, doing exactly as President Snow asked - but you had never been as tired as you were now. The simple act of movement left you exhausted, the injury be damned, and all you wanted to do was curl up in bed and sleep.

You couldn’t. Although you weren’t physically strong, your determination to keep going kept you mentally well. You had to be strong, you had to be sunny, for the District 12 children, for Katniss, and for Finnick.

Finnick had a rough adjustment to life in District 13, due to the absence of Mags and Annie as well as your injury. Despite being drugged up, once he heard that you were going under for surgery, he knocked out two guards and nearly stabbed a third with a pair of scissors before Haymitch pulled him off of the guard. Finnick had stayed by your side for days after he had been discharged and you were recovering. 

He didn’t leave your side after you were discharged from the hospital wing. He was the one who helped you back onto your feet and he encouraged you to keep going, even when you felt like giving up. 

Finnick was quiet when you weren’t around, however. He would lock himself in his room for hours, only coming out to talk with Haymitch or to get the next meal. He was never like that with you - his smile was never so bright as he carefully embraced you. The two of you would talk for hours about anything and everything - it reminded you of your days back in the Victor’s Village in District 4.

Cooking for four was a learned habit of yours - you didn’t want Mags to have to cook or eat alone, Annie struggled to take care of herself, and Finnick was so busy that he didn’t often have the time to have good meals. 

You quickly distributed the food into four different containers. Two went straight into your refrigerator - Finnick would be home late on a flight from the Capitol, so you wanted to have dinner with him. You sealed up the other two meals, placed them into a small satchel, and began your trip to Mags’ house.

She warmly welcomed you in before putting a kettle on. You handed her the meal, which she took with a gracious smile. Mags grabbed two forks out of her silverware drawer, and you took one of them before joining her in the dining room.

You couldn’t stay long, as you had another meal to deliver, but you did enjoy a nice glass of tea and a few bites of food. With Mags waving you off, you ventured across the way to Annie’s home.

You softly knock on the door, as to not startle her, before the door slams open. Annie appears while rapidly wiping the tears off of her face. She tries to speak, but you shake her head before handing her the food.

“Don’t worry about getting the container back, I have plenty.” You gently reassure her as she nods before shakily closing the door.

With a soft breath, you go back to your own house to enjoy a bit of well-earned peace and quiet. A couple hours go by before someone knocks on your door.

You open the door, only to see Finnick standing there, all dressed up in Capital wear. Despite everything he’s wearing, he still is your charming, very attractive mentor.

“Are you in the mood for company?” He asks with an irresistible smile.

“You’re lucky I made extras, pretty boy.” You tease before letting him in.

“Sunny?”

You sit up at the sound of his voice, albeit slowly so you don’t injury yourself.

“Finnick!” You break out of your thoughts to greet him as you gesture for him to sit next to you on your bed.

“Are you alright?” His eyebrows scrunch as he inspects you for injuries before gently sitting next to you.

His hand finds yours, and your fingers intertwine as you softly kiss his cheek.

“I’m good, I promise. Haymitch wanted me to see Katniss in the hospital ward.”

“She didn’t have a bow and arrow this time, right?” A teasing smile rests on his face as you lightly shove him away.

“Very funny, Finnick.” You roll your eyes before looking over at him. “How are you doing?”

“Better now that I’m with you, honey.” He leans in to kiss you, and you indulge him in one kiss before locking eyes with him.

He lies to you about how he feels at times. You know it’s because he doesn’t want you to worry, but you end up worrying more because of it. This time, you only see merriment and a twinkle of mischief in his eyes as he looks at you.

That’s Finnick being Finnick.

“Isn’t it almost meal time?” You ask before grabbing your cane.

“It’s getting close, but we should get going if we want to make it there on time.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” You poke Finnick with the bottom of your cane as he happily laughs.

You rest your head on his shoulder as you enjoy this moment of tranquility and happiness. You don’t know what tomorrow’s going to look like, but you can only hope that it’ll be just as good, if not better, than today.

tagging ->  @yokolesbianism , @avoxrising, @honethatty12, @sweetybuzz25, @catvader101, @sollum, @emerald-valkyrie, @randomgurl2326, @caitsymichelle13, @bcbci, @iris1587 (send a request or comment on this fic to be added to the taglist!)

[waywardxrhea]

Part of Your World - George Weasley

Chapter 12

pairing: George Weasley x fem!Muggle!reader

installment list / previous chapter / next chapter

word count: 4,605

content: mentions of death, depictions of depression, insecurity, plane ride (Arthur has a GRAND time), heavy on the emotions

December rolled around and the Burrow was starting to fill with warmth, joy, and sweaters, but George still wasn’t acting himself. When he finally opened the shop back up a few months after Fred’s death, George always plastered a smile on his face for the customers and laughed when the younger ones came back to tell the stories of the pranks they pulled, but behind closed doors he lived with a dark cloud encircling him. Even with the total support and comfort that Lee, Angelina, the remaining members of the Order, and his family gave him throughout the grieving process, George still fell into a deep depression. 

As Hermione was flittering around the Burrow helping Mrs. Weasley with odds and ends to make her workload easier, she stopped in her tracks when she saw George sitting in a chair by a window rolling something around between his fingers. Upon closer inspection she realised it was your engagement ring, so with a gentle smile on her lips, she cleared her throat and asked, “What’s stopping you from going to get her?”

George startled in his seat, his hand instinctively reaching for the wand that was placed on the window sill before he realised it was just Hermione. As he slumped back into the chair and pocketed the ring, he sighed before telling her quietly, “I don’t want her to see me like this…” A single tear escaped his eye that he quickly brushed away before mumbling, “She’s probably moved on anyway, no point in uprooting her new life…”

“Oh George…” Hermione said, her voice heavy with emotion as she tried to hold back her own tears. She crouched down beside him and placed a hand on his forearm as she said, “If there’s one thing I’ve learned from being friends with Harry, it’s that love is even more powerful than magic. That girl loves you with everything she has, and I have a feeling that not even those memory enchantments could stop her from loving you, even if she doesn’t realise it.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Remember when I went to find my parents in Australia?” He nodded. “When they first saw me, there was this look of recognition in their eyes. They knew me from somewhere but they couldn’t figure out where. That was until I lifted the enchantment. They told me that it felt like deep inside their minds there was some sort of locked box that had memories that were just out of their reach. They knew they were there but couldn’t access them. If the same stands for her, I can guarantee you she hasn’t moved on.”

“I’m just…scared,” George admitted as he turned away from her once more to let his tears fall. “I lost Fred, I can’t lose her too…”

“Then go get her,” Hermione encouraged. “I know things have been a mare, but…this is something you can control and it may help you out of this rut you’ve gotten into. I’ve always admired your relationship and how much you two make each other smile even in the darkest times. I think it’s time to bring her home.”

A smile ghosted over George’s features before he nodded, telling her, “All right. I’ll talk with Dad and we’ll start planning. How’s a trip to New York sound?”

Hermione smiled and nodded, saying with a quiet laugh, “You two will need all the help you can get navigating Muggle transport, of course I’m coming with you!”

Three days later Hermione found herself in the middle of a bustling crowd of commuters making their way through Heathrow Airport. As she walked, her arm linked with Arthur’s to keep him from wandering off, she looked at the tickets in her hand to match them with the boarding gate to their right. “Right, here’s the gate! Flight is due to board in an hour,” she said as she located three open seats near the gate for them to sit at. Seeing the whimsy in Arthur’s eyes though, Hermione sent a glance to George and asked, “Do you mind watching the bags? I think we might swing by a gift shop.”

“I don’t mind,” George replied with a nod, sitting down in the slightly uncomfortable chair. As he watched Hermione scurry off after his dad, George sighed and pulled out a book he had found himself reading a lot since Fred had died. It was your copy of The Outsiders that was heavily annotated by you, but now had some of George’s sloppy scrawl within the margins as well. 

George got so lost in the pages that he didn’t realise that the wait time had passed and his travelling companions had still not returned. “Flight 606 flying from Heathrow to JFK is now boarding. Please find your boarding group and begin boarding when instructed,” came a kind voice over a speaker as people all around George began to stand and look at their tickets. 

Closing his book and starting to look around, George let out a quiet sigh of relief when he saw his dad and Hermione approaching, the former with the widest smile on his face as he pulled something off from around his neck, telling George, “Would you look at this son! A pillow that wraps around your neck! The things Muggles dream up!”

A quiet huff of laughter left George’s lips before he asked, “Planning on sleeping through the flight?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it!” he replied, a giddiness in his voice as the three of them picked up their bags and Hermione guided them in the direction of their boarding group. 

After making their way to their designated seats and getting settled in, Hermione handed both George and Arthur a piece of gum each, saying, “When the plane takes off, the change in cabin pressure will make your ears pop. This should alleviate that.”

“Bubblicious bubble gum, why, George, is this a product from the shop?” Arthur asked, leaning forward to look at his son over Hermione who sat between them. 

“No, it’s a Muggle product,” George replied. A small smile graced his lips before he told him it was your favourite, adding, “One time she blew a bubble so big that I was convinced it was at least from Honeydukes.”

Right after the short conversation ended, the flight attendants began performing their safety procedure teaching for the flight’s occupants. Arthur was completely enthralled by the man’s words and demonstrations as he watched with rapt attention. George wasn’t paying much attention though as the flight attendant spoke. Instead his mind began to wander to you - what you may be up to, how you may have been spending your time in New York, and how he felt like he may be about to completely uproot your new life…

“You okay?” came Hermione’s gentle voice as she lightly squeezed his hand that had begun to drum against the armrest between them as his anxiety began to climb. 

“Brilliant,” he replied quietly in a flat sort of tone, avoiding eye contact as he once more pulled out your book to distract himself. 

“Everything’s going to work out,” Hermione told him, offering a small smile before she too grabbed a book out of her bag. 

George’s concentration was grabbed a few minutes later when the plane began moving down the runway and his dad opened up the sliding window cover.  As he looked out, the expression on his face reminded George of kids looking into the window of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. George watched out the window as he opened up his piece of gum and began chewing it as the plane started to gain speed. “How fast are we going?” Arthur asked giddily as he too began to chew his gum. 

Hermione glanced up at the screen that was embedded into the back of the seat in front of her, informing him, “Around 290 kilometres per hour.”

“Fantastic!” Mr. Weasley breathed. His hands gripped the arms of his chair as suddenly they felt a sense of weightlessness when the plane’s wheels left the ground. After a few uncomfortable minutes that George would almost compare to his first time apparating without the intense compression, the flight attendant announced that they were at cruising altitude and that they would be landing in just over seven hours. “How fast are we going now?”

Hermione couldn’t help the small smile on her lips as she told him, “Around 900 kilometres per hour.”

“Muggles are so brilliant!” Arthur mused before relaxing into his seat, his pillow sung around his neck as he watched the clouds pass around the plane. 

“Why Poughkeepsie?” Hermione asked George as the three of them rode the train from New York City to their destination. 

“It seemed easy enough to remember, fun name too,” George replied as he looked out over the water to the left of the train. He was lost in thought as he looked out on the river, and Hermione could tell that he needed the space, so she dropped the conversation for the moment.

It was roughly an hour and a half before the train got to the end of the line in Poughkeepsie and the passengers all got up and stretched their weary bodies before filing out into the crisp winter air. Hermione had been developing a plan on the way there, so once they were out, she took a glance at her phone's screen and began walking in a direction, leaving George and Arthur to simply follow behind her.

“Excuse me,” Hermione said to get the attention of some patrons of the destination she had put into her phone's GPS. It was a pub that she had seen online posts about your parents singing at, so she thought it would be a good starting point. She said your mum’s name and then asked, “Do you happen to know her?” 

While the bartender didn’t answer immediately, a patron a few seats down called out your mum’s name in a question. “Yes, that’s her,” Hermione replied while turning her attention toward the older woman. “We’re friends from London and we didn’t know what neighbourhood they ended up in around here. See, we want to surprise them, and asking for an address would sort of spoil that wouldn’t it?”

“You’re right there,” she replied with a quiet chuckle. “She and her husband play here pretty regularly when we have live music. They’re good people. Live three houses down from me actually, just a few blocks away. Real pretty house they’re renting. Sky blue with a bright red door, can’t miss it.”

“Isn’t their daughter working in the Kitchen tonight?” the person beside her asked, making George perk up.

“She works here?” he asked, his eyes darting toward where he assumed the kitchen was behind the bar. 

The man chuckled before shaking his head and replying, “No, no, sorry you aren’t from around here. By the Kitchen I mean Hell’s Kitchen. It’s a neighbourhood in the city. She works at one of those restaurants where Broadway calibre singers perform while they wait tables. She’s damn good at it too.”

“That’s right!” the woman said, lightly tapping her forehead for her lapse in memory. “Your timing isn’t too great actually, the whole family’s gone to the city right now. The girl’s got a few performances at her school starting tomorrow night.” She turned to her partner and asked, “What musical were they doing again?”

“Newsies!” he replied after a few seconds of thinking. “If you three wanna catch them, I’d say that’s your best bet. Tickets go fast though, even for college shows, so I’d get going on that if you’d want to surprise them there.”

“That’s actually a great idea, thank you very much!” Hermione told them graciously, making sure to get the information they needed about your school’s play before leading the two red-headed men out of the pub. 

Without a word further, Hermione pulled out her cell phone and began typing away at the little screen while making a bee-line back toward the train station with Arthur and George hot on her heels. “We just got off the train, ‘Mione, why are we getting back on?” George asked, his eyebrows furrowed. The flight had surprisingly worn him out and his body was sore from sitting in that uncomfortable seat for so long. That, combined with the mental strain he had been through, George simply wanted to find a hotel and go to bed despite it barely being afternoon.

“I just got us on the waitlist for the restaurant she works at. If we get on the train soon we should be able to make it on time,” Hermione replied simply as she showed him the screen. “And now…” she said after handing the ticket person behind the glass window the proper amount of money for train tickets back to the city, “I got us three tickets to the show she’s performing in!”

“Hermione, don’t you think-” George tried to say, but was cut off. 

“I think what you’re trying to say is ‘Thank you,’” she told him matter-of-factly as the three waited for the train once more. 

“I just… What if…” George started, unsure how to end his sentence as his mind once again drifted off toward where his subconscious had liked to take him ever since you left: seeing you with a mystery man and moving on from him and the future he pictured with you. The future that sometimes he felt was the only thing keeping him afloat. “I don’t want to mess this up… If I see her happy there…”

“You’ll feel conflicted about what to do,” Arthur said, nodding solemnly at his son as he rubbed his shoulders. 

“Exactly. I just feel like if we restore her memories it’ll ruin everything she’s built here. And her happiness is what matters,” George said, looking down at the cracked concrete beneath his shoes. 

“You can’t make that decision for her though,” Hermione said. “Once their memories are restored they can decide what they want to do. But it isn’t fair for you to suffer like this and it isn’t fair for them to live the rest of their lives with missing memories when they’re so easily restored.”

A train horn blared as it pulled into the station and its occupants exited before the three of them made their way on and into seats once more. Arthur smiled softly at his son before telling him, “I bet seeing her tonight will pull you right out of that head of yours.”

And boy was he right. They hadn’t been lucky enough to get you as a server, but the moment they were seated and you made your first appearance singing the song She Used to be Mine from a musical called Waitress, George practically felt his heart swell in his chest. Feelings of love filled him, but also sadness and heartache for everything that happened in the last two years. 

Those feelings of sadness soon lifted though when throughout the meal you ventured all over the restaurant between serving your tables, belting out songs you would sing in the shower back home. With those memories flooding his mind, George finally cracked a small smile as a different feeling took over. A feeling of longing. Longing for you in his arms. To feel your gentle touch and hear your comforting words. To laugh with you. To hear wedding bells as you stood across from each other and vowed to spend the rest of your lives together. To hear little footsteps running up and down the steps at the shop a few years down the line. To just be with you. So as the meal closed out and the entire wait staff sang You Will Be Found from Dear Evan Hansen, George found himself holding back tears while he, along with the rest of the restaurant’s guests, applauded the performers. 

Hermione’s words from earlier rang in his ear as they exited the restaurant and made their way to somewhere to stay for the night, but George knew that no matter what decision you made when your memories were restored, he would be right there by your side. If that meant moving the shop to New York then so be it. All George knew was that you were the puzzle piece he needed. Even though that puzzle would never truly be complete without his twin, if he at least had you by his side, he could be held together again.

The plan was to meet up with your family after the show the next evening, and Arthur would lift the memory enchantment he placed on you all. During the show, George’s confidence in Hermione’s assurance that you hadn’t moved on wavered as he watched you on stage playing Katherine falling in love with Jack. Those feelings of jealousy retreated the moment they snuck backstage and heard you arguing with the same guy in question, telling him, “I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again Dalton, this is on stage only! I have no interest in you off stage!”

“Oh come on Doll, you know I could show you a good time! You loved tonight’s kiss!” Dalton said, his hands snaking their way to your waist as he tried to pull you into another kiss. 

At the sight, George had had enough, so as he advanced toward you two, he called, “Oi mate, she said to back off!”

“Lover’s quarrel, back off pal,” the sleazy guy said with a smirk as he pulled you closer. 

“Get your hands off of me,” you said in a low voice as you struggled in Dalton’s arms. 

“Oh come on baby, you know you-” he said, but before he could finish his sentence, he was grasping at his nose as his bogeys began flying out. In the shape of bats to be exact. “What the-?” he shouted with a start before abruptly separating himself from you and running off. 

When he was gone was when you finally looked up to see who had gotten Dalton off of you. You hadn’t recognized the voice as someone from the company, but knew you had heard it somewhere before. Looking up, you saw a tall ginger man who was dressed rather handsomely in a purple coat, something not too conventional, but he made it work. There was something so familiar about his soft eyes and smile but you couldn’t quite put a finger on where you had seen him before… 

“Thank you,” you told him after you realised you were staring for longer than you probably should have been. “I’m not sure if he was trying to stay in character for audience members or what but… Thank you for the save.”

Before George could reply or Hermione or his father could scold him for using his magic so brazenly, you all heard another pair of familiar voices enter the doorway behind you. “You did amazing tonight, sweetheart!” your mum praised you as she took you in her arms and into a bone crushing hug. 

“All that rehearsal time paid off!” your dad told you with a smile as he presented you with a small bouquet of flowers. He turned his attention toward George, Hermione, and Arthur before asking, “And who may these three be?”

“Old friends from London,” Arthur told him, stepping forward and slipping his hand into his Muggle approved coat where he was storing his wand. “I need the three of you to stay very still for a short moment if you don’t mind. And Hermione, George, please make sure no one else is around.”

“No one else is around-” your dad started, his eyebrows furrowing as he saw the older man reach into his coat. “Hey what do you think you’re-?” But before he could finish his sentence, Arthur had already taken out his wand and waved it, effectively lifting the memory enchantment he had placed on your family. 

“George?” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion as everything came flooding back to you all at once. Your first time meeting George at Regent’s Park, all of your dates since, discovering that he was a wizard, the magical majesty of the Burrow and the horde of red headed witches and wizards who occupied it, every magical spell you had witnessed and every potion you had drank, the magical joke shop, and everything in between. On top of the good though, you also remembered the fact that there was a Wizarding war going on, how there were laws prohibiting your relationship and that you ended up in New York to save your family from the wrath of Dark wizards, as well as how you were tortured by an Unforgivable Curse that wracked your entire body with pain mere days before you left. And now George was standing in front of you with tears in his eyes as he held out his arms in an offer to hold you for the first time in… Wow, sixteen months…

Without a further thought, you closed the space separating you two, and George pulled you into the most bone-crushing hug he had ever given you. His body rattled with emotion as he cried into your hair, some of the weight of the last sixteen months lifting off his shoulders. “I missed you so much…” George managed to choke out as you rubbed soothing circles onto his back. 

After the two of you separated from your embrace, you leaned up to kiss George on the cheek before asking, “So is it over? The war?”

“Yes,” Hermione answered from her place behind George. “Harry finished off You-Know-Who and things have slowly been going back to some semblance of normal.”

“That’s good to hear!” you said, a wide smile on your face. You thought for a moment before asking, “So then if everything’s over and you all are here, then that means…?”

“That means there is a lot to discuss about next steps,” Arthur said as he placed his wand back into his coat as a nearby door opened and a few cast members ambled through the backstage area. 

“That there is,” your mum said thoughtfully. “There’s still a whole weekend of shows ahead of us though, so can we table the subject for later?”

“Yes, we don’t want to rush anything,” Arthur agreed with a nod. 

He glanced over toward you and George before turning to walk out of the room with your dad, your mum, and Hermione, the former of which asked, “So about that last conversation we had before we left about magic being real…”

As you and George followed loosely behind, George pulled out his wand and produced a bouquet of your favourite flowers before telling you, “Your performance was outstanding tonight. You got one of your dream roles yeah?”

“That I did!” you beamed, graciously taking the wonderful smelling flowers from George with a loving smile. You took his hand with your free one and said, “I bet with the war over business is booming at the shop! Where is Fred anyways, I’d have thought you would have brought him with you. Especially to New York of all places, it’s a great place for a ladies man like him!” 

When you said those words, George froze in place. He didn’t think about having to tell you about Fred… You, too, stopped abruptly when he did, your eyebrows lacing together as you asked, “Everything all right, love?” The floodgates opened once more as George shook his head, trying to wipe away his tears that he couldn't seem to stop at the mention of his brother. Sensing something was off, you quickly wrapped your arms around George and asked, “Did…did something happen to Fred…?”

George nodded rapidly, a choked sob escaping his throat before he managed to whisper, “He died… Death Eaters. Explosion… Wasn’t even there…”

“Oh my God…” you whispered, your voice breaking upon hearing the news as you pulled him impossibly tighter in your arms. “I am so, so sorry, George…” George didn’t know what else to say, so he simply let you hold him for a few minutes while you both mourned Fred silently in each other’s arms. 

When you both finally pulled away from each other, you coaxed George to lean down a bit to place a kiss to his forehead. He then pulled out his wand and used some magic to erase the evidence that you had both been crying before you both headed out the door to meet with the rest of the group. Many things were discussed on the train ride back to Poughkeepsie that night, mostly just catching both families up on what had happened since you all left London, but you all agreed to table the important talks for Monday after the show closed and the semester was finished for you. 

“Of course we’re moving back home!” you told George with a broad smile on your face as the two of you sat on your bed with your back pressed to his chest. George played with your hands absentmindedly as you talked, the left of which was once again sporting your engagement ring. 

“Really?” George asked, his movements halting at the news. 

“Yeah!” you replied, leaning over and turning your head to place a kiss to his cheek. 

“And that wouldn’t completely uproot everything you’ve clearly built while you’ve been here?” George asked hesitantly. 

“Absolutely not,” you replied quickly. Hermione had informed you about George’s growing insecurity about that exact sentiment, so it didn’t come as a total shock when he asked. “The connections I made while here will open up doors for me back home, they don’t end here in New York. One of my professors has been talking with some people over at the West End about me, actually, and I think that’ll be my in when we get back! Now, I still have to finish up my schooling, but it’s always good to have the connections!”

“Brilliant,” George said, a small smile creeping onto his features at the fact that he would have you back home with him. 

There was a knock at the door a few moments later followed by Mr. Weasley saying, “Come on now George, it’s time to start getting the house packed up!”

“I’ll get started in here!” George called back through the door as he and you disentangled yourselves from each other and stood up. 

While George took out his wand and summoned your luggage and some shipping boxes, you grabbed something off of your dresser and made your way to your bedroom door, excitedly calling out to Mr. Weasley as he walked down the hall, “Hey! I think I figured out how planes work!”

Mr. Weasley smiled with a sparkle of whimsy in his eye as he said, “That’s wonderful! Tell me all about it when we’re on the plane back!”

“Yes sir!” you told him before heading back to your room to help George with the finer details. 

When you emerged into your already nearly packed room, you sighed contentedly before commenting, “I love magic!”

“And I love you,” George told you while snaking his arms around your waist. 

“I love you,” you replied before leaning in for a tender kiss. It certainly wasn’t your first kiss since being reunited, but ever since your reunion, both you and George made an effort to make every single one count. Even with the war being over, there was never a guarantee for the next day, and George was determined to not let another loved one slip out of his grasp, not without them knowing how much he cared.

reunited and it feels so good! i hadn't written a lot of Hermione (like more than a few paragraphs at a time here and there) in a LONG time until this chapter, and honestly i forgot how fun she is to write! this reunion in the aftermath of the war was a super emotional one, but rest assured that the coming installments are SUPER fluffy to make up for all the angst i've been throwing your way as of late!

likes and comments are always appreciated! xo, brooke <3

as always, dividers by @firefly-graphics

taglist: @5starl1ght @v1ckycheesue @superduckmilkshake

[pink-sparkly-witch]

The One That Got Away - Chapter Four

Warning: tw: child abuse, tw: verbal abuse, tw: physical abuse, mentions of therapy.

Word Count: 1.8k

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x Female Reader

A/N: There are TRIGGER WARNINGS in this part - please heed these, and if you think you’ll be affected by any of them, please do not read.

You can catch up here!

 My Masterli st AO3    Ko-Fi

“Hey, kiddo! Did you just come off shift?” Jody greeted her brightly.

“No, I came off an extended double at two o’clock this morning, and I’m back in tonight at seven. Is Uncle Bobby home?” Y/N asked.

“Not yet, sweetie. He took his crew for breakfast. Why? Is everything okay?” The concern she heard in Jody’s tone made her smile.

“Yeah, everything’s good, it’s just… are you still looking for a new tenant for the apartment? ‘Cause I got myself a job at Lawrence Memorial and need to find somewhere to live!” Y/N grinned.

“You did not!” Jody’s excitement made her buzz.

“Emergency Nurse Practitioner, Y/N Singer at your service!” she laughed at Jody’s gleeful screech.

“Bobby’s gonna be so happy! He might even crack a smile!” Jody joked.

“Hold up now. Let’s not get crazy!” Y/N replied, and both women cackled with laughter.

“When do you start?” Jody asked once their joy settled.

“The beginning of next month. I’ll work for three more weeks, hammer the overtime, and get extra money for moving costs and furniture. I’ll spend the last week packing and shipping. I’ll probably move out there the Thursday before I start. That gives me the weekend to unpack and settle,” Y/N said.

“How are you feeling about coming home, kiddo?” 

“Uhm, okay, I guess? It’s time. Uncle Bobby was right about that, but don’t tell him I said that!” Y/N giggled.

“I’d never dream of it!” Jody chuckled.

“It’ll be strange, don’t get me wrong, but it is time. I need to stop hiding. I need to finally deal with my shit, you know? My father and…”

“Dean?” Jody pushed gently at Y/N’s sudden silence.

“Yeah,” she sighed. “Bobby doesn’t talk to me about him. I know he’s not married, but he might be with someone. There’s still so much there for me, and I think… I know I need to talk it out. Move forward, whatever that looks like.”

“He’s single. He’s had as much luck on the dating front as you have. He doesn’t have a friend like you do, though. He’s more of a one-night-only kinda guy,” Jody chuckled.

“Ha! Been there, done that!” Y/N scoffed a laugh.

“I did not need to know that!” The grin she could hear in Jody’s voice told her she was teasing, and both women laughed heartily.

“Seriously, kiddo, I think reaching out to Dean is a great idea. I’m sure you both have a lot to discuss. You both need to move on, one way or another.” Jody said gently.

“Yeah, I know. It’s easier said than done, though,” Y/N sighed.

“Everything worth having, doing or saying always is, Y/N.”

“When did you become so wise?” Y/N sniggered.

“Hey! Watch it, or you’ll be sleeping in your car when you get back!” Jody jokingly scolded, and Y/N laughed again.

“Alright, kiddo, I gotta get ready for my shift. Bobby and I will have the apartment cleaned and freshened up for you. Let me know when you start shipping stuff, and you can send it to us first. We’ll get it there for you.”

“Thanks, Jody. I’ll call Bobby later after he’s had some time to sleep, but if you see him before you head out…”

“I’ll tell him his princess is coming home,” Jody said excitedly, and she was starting to wonder who was more excited about her coming home.

“Thanks. I love you, Jody.”

“Love you too, kiddo.”

Y/N ended the call and fell back onto the mattress with a relieved sigh. She knew she’d be welcomed back to Lawrence with open arms, at least by Uncle Bobby and Jody. Still, she’d been gone far too long, and there was this tiny nagging doubt in her mind that said no one wanted her back after the chaos she’d caused by leaving in the first place.

Jody had become so much more than an aunt to Y/N when she and Bobby started dating. She was her best friend and confidante but never slid into the ‘mom’ role. That was, and would always be, Mary Winchester. 

As part of her therapy, Y/N had written five letters. One to herself, three to the people she cared for most in the world, and one to her father. She’d sent three of those letters. Okay, technically, she’d sent two. She felt the people hurt most by her departure needed an explanation: Mary and Uncle Bobby.

Dean knew everything she’d been through - it was why she understood him not asking her to stay - but Mary and Uncle Bobby didn’t. Y/N made Dean promise not to tell anyone, and Dean was a man of his word. She knew everyone knew something was going on at home; the bruises and flinching at loud noises needed no explanation, but she never admitted to it to anyone but Dean.

The blame she had for her mother’s death, the wish it’d been her instead, Dean was the only one who knew all of it. He was also the only person who knew the vile words, insults, and almost daily degradation she’d been through. Only she, Dean, and her therapist knew about every time he struck her and every harsh word he’d voiced at her.

So, it was with incredible strength that Y/N wrote it down in a letter. She relived everything her father had subjected her to and apologised to Mary for breaking her son’s heart. She’d put Dean’s letter beside Mary’s with instructions to give it to him “at the right time.” However, Y/N also knew there was a chance Mary would never give him the letter, so she’d reluctantly added, “if you think it’s in his best interests,” at the end.

She still didn’t know if Dean had read her letter, but Mary replied, telling her she had forgiven her and loved her. She’d always love her and was sorry for everything her father had put her through. Y/N had expected it but was still shocked by the anger Mary had expressed towards her for not speaking up when she and John would’ve done everything in their power to protect her and get her out of her father’s house, but Y/N knew it ultimately wouldn’t have made a difference.

“Dean?” Bobby said at the end of the shift. “Can I have a minute?”

“Sure, Chief. What’s up?” Dean asked as he walked into Bobby’s office.

“Close the door and take a seat,” Bobby said as he pushed aside the paperwork from last night’s fire.

“I’m sure you remember I spoke to Y/N and asked her to think about coming home,” Bobby said gently.

“Yeah, I remember,” Dean swallowed nervously. She wasn’t coming. He could feel it.

“A few weeks ago, she came here-” Bobby started, raising his hands in a ‘hold on, let me finish’ gesture at the anger and hurt that settled on Dean’s face.

“I didn’t know she was here. She flew in and out the same day because she had an interview at Memorial. She didn’t tell us because she had to be back in Chicago to work a night shift,” Bobby smiled softly as Dean’s body and face relaxed, and he slumped back in his chair.

“How’d she do?” Dean asked, his voice shaky.

“She starts on Monday,” Bobby grinned as Dean smiled. “She’s moving into Jody’s apartment over the weekend.”

“Does she, uh,” Dean started and cleared his throat before he tried again. “Is there anyone coming with her? You know, boyfriend, kid, dog?” he chuckled, trying to act nonchalant, but Bobby saw right through him.

“No,” he smiled at the younger man. “She’s dated, but nothing ever stuck. According to Jody, she was the love ‘em and leave ‘em type until she made an arrangement with a friend,” Bobby shifted in his chair uncomfortably. Dean couldn’t stop the smirk crossing his face at seeing his mentor squirm. 

“No doubt she broke a lot of hearts!” Dean chuckled, and Bobby smiled wistfully.

“I’m sure she did. Now go on, get outta here! Enjoy your long weekend fishing at the cabin. I’ll see you next week.”

“Thanks, Bobby,” Dean said as he stood.

“For what?” Bobby raised his eyebrow in confusion.

“Telling me about Y/N/N.”

“Promised I would, didn’t I? Besides, can’t have you running into her with one of your love ‘em and leave ‘ems on your arm now, can we?” he winked. “Go on now, get!”

“Hey, are you okay, babe?” Sam asked, flustered as he ran into his parents’ house.

“I’m fine, Sam!” Jess smiled as she rolled her eyes playfully at his concern.

“Are you sure? Did you get checked out properly?” he asked, eyes scanning every inch of her to ensure no sign of illness or injury.

“Sam, babe,” Jess said as calmly as she could, smiling a greeting at John when he entered the kitchen. “I’m fine. I felt a little faint at work, and the new nurse, who is so lovely and not a bitter old bitch like the last one, took me into a room and checked me over. She took a blood sample and gave me a scan just to be sure. It was a little low blood sugar, and she made me sit on the bed until we’d eaten chocolate and drank a soda. I promise I’m much better now. Rowena sent me home for the rest of the day to take it easy. I’m under strict orders to eat at least one more chocolate bar or a slice of cake, put my feet up, and get some rest.”

“You’re sure?” Sam checked again.

“Oh my God, Sam!” she laughed. “Yes! I promise! I’m taking Y/N’s advice and being waited on by an anxious grandmother-to-be for a few hours while I take it easy!”

“Y/N?” Mary asked, placing a generous slab of lemon drizzle cake before Jess and Sam. “It wouldn’t happen to be Y/N Y/L/N by any chance, would it?” Mary finished with a little chuckle as if it was nothing, but it came out more like a plea.

“No,” Jess mumbled around a mouthful of cake. “Y/N Singer. But when she heard my name was Winchester, she asked if I was any relation to you guys. She said she went to school with Dean. Maybe she got married?” she said, putting more cake in her mouth.

“What?” Jess asked at the sudden silence in the room.

“Maybe she took her mama’s name when she left,” John voiced what had been on everyone’s mind.

“Do you think Dean knows?” Sam questioned, and Jess looked downright confused.

“Dean knows what?” Dean asked, returning from the bathroom and leaning against the kitchen doorframe.

Next Chapter >>

Tag list: @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @leigh70 @stoneyggirl2 @hobby27 @candy-coated-misery0731 @iprobablyshipit91 @twinkleinadiamondsky @mrsjenniferwinchester @spnwoman @snackles87 @perpetualabsurdity @hoboal87 @synmorite @nancymcl @trannydean @nic-kolas @jc-winchester @winchestergirl1720 @globetrotter28 @nelachu2423 @kayleighmeister @venicesem @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @suckitands33 @tristanrosspada-ackles @silentbutscreaming @lacilou @kazsrm67 @sandlee44 @kmc1989 @chriszgirl92 @ashbatz @k-slla @waters-2567

[annlillyjose]

Rock Salt – WIP Intro

hello again! on today’s news, your girl has a new wip aka something to fixate on and mould her life around for the next couple of months (or years). and because i cannot keep any exciting news to myself, here’s a wip intro.

but before we head into that, here’s a little backstory to how it happened. i finished writing dairy whiskey, i worried about my brain being incapable of forming new book ideas, two to three days after i get this new book idea that i’m totally hooked on, struggles to find a name, names it, decides to go forward with it, so again, here it is – rock salt!

here are the specifics:

disclaimer: this is an original work of fiction. plagiarism of any kind will not be tolerated. don’t be a pathetic loser.

genre: literary fiction

pov: first person retrospective

structure: probably going to be just full-length chapters

projected word count: 50k

concept: identical twins rain and norah move out of their family home for college where they purse two different degrees, live with different people in separate homes, and fall in troubles of their own. these begin to affect each other and they grow apart, being forced to navigate the the most confusing part of their lives – their shared existence as twins.

aesthetics/vibes: indigo skies, the beach, moths, seawater, salty breeze, chopping off one’s hair because existential crisis and queerness, lesbian relationships, house parties, fire, gloomy days where you feel like it’s going to rain but it doesn’t, cheap housing, bad grades, rotten food in the fridge, the moon, hanging plants, weed and local flowers

CHARACTERS

if you’ve heard these names before, no you haven’t, but again, they’re from twinepathy – the short story i wrote nearly three years back and scrapped afterwards. i tried to create new characters for this book but they feel like the perfect fit, so here they are.

norah

18

lesbian, she/they

her real name is eleanor

the protagonist and the narrator

studies political science

shoulder-length black hair, dark brown eyes, 5'3, skinny, wheat-coloured skin

always wears basic t-shirts or sweatshirts with a pair of mom jeans

distant, secretive, in constant disapproval of everything

strives on academic validation (and is being too hard on herself to bring in good grades)

rain

also 18

aroace, she/her

her real name is lorraine

studies painting and the applied arts

long black hair, dark brown eyes, 5'3, skinny, wheat-coloured skin

is a goofball, sunshine and rainbows, has a lot of friends, is extremely talented in her art, golden retriever energy with some drama to be unleashed

cannot keep her mouth shut so ends up in trouble with norah

don’t want to introduce them officially, because they’re not key characters, but here’s a little info on their older sisters –

harper

23

is called harp

is a high school geography teacher

engaged to her college boyfriend

oldest child in an asian household (i guess that’s saying enough)

violet

21

is called viv

the neglected middle child

in her last year of a nursing degree

wanted to study music but was too scared to bring it up to her parents and ended up being stuck at a hospital

plans to go abroad and marry a rich guy

well, that’s all i’ve got for you today. i haven’t started writing this book yet and i think i won’t until i finish editing dairy whiskey in august. i think i’ll start in september and then hopefully do nanowrimo for it in november. i’m super excited to work on it because it’s so different from dairy whiskey in a lot of aspects. but i’m discovery writing (as always) and we’ll just have to see where it goes. but until i come back with an update for this book, you take care, stay hydrated, water your plants, and eat a second dessert tonight.

– ann

general taglist (ask to be added or removed)

@shaonsim @heartfullkings @vnsmiles @dallonwrites @wannabeauthorclive @sienna-writes @violetpeso @flip-phones @silassghost @ambidextrousarcher @zoe-louvre @writing-with-l @magic-is-something-we-create @femmeniism @frozenstillicide @wizardfromthesea @rose-bookblood @coffeeandcalligraphy @rodentwrites @saltwaterbells @snehithiye @at-thezenith

[heaven-s-black-box]

Museum- Gallagher & Sunday's daughter!Reader

Return to File

Recovery date: June 10th, 2024

Description: Hello I just got an idea, what if the reader, who is sunday's young daughter, and is normally very shy, made friends with Gallagher's kid, the reader had been out with her mother due to Sunday being busy for the day when they first met, and the reader starts to view Gallagher as an uncle overtime (ngl Gallagher just makes me think of an uncle, is that just me?)

Notes: This work was recovered in conjunction with an anonymous researcher, we thank them for their contributions. Gallagher's son is adopted, not important but I think it's the only thing that makes sense lore wise.

Part: 1 2 3 4

Word count: 1 743

Back to directory

“Can we see daddy yet?” Y/n whined, digging her feet into the ground so she could swing around her mother’s arm.

Her mother smiled fondly, still dragging her daughter along. She felt a little bad for the soles of the girl’s shoes, but they didn’t last long anyways. Y/n was growing so fast she’d probably need a new pair next week anyways. 

Sunday was always surprised when pictures of Y/n getting her height marked against the wall came in every month, no matter how little of a change it was.

“Not yet,” her mother assured. “Why don’t we go check out the moment of Sol? You can learn some fun facts for when you go back to school.”

“Okay!”

Y/n dashed forward, still holding onto her mother’s hand and pulling her along.

They left the golden hour and appeared in the moment of sol. Y/n, who had never been here before– that she remembered– was quickly entranced by the sparkly building of the museum. Her mother laughed as she started wandering off towards one of the hallways.

The large sign above it read “The Watchmaker”.

“Mommy, I want to go-”

“Dad! Dad! Dad! Hurry, hurry, hurry!” A frantic voice called, the sound of someone jumping on the marble floors echoed off the walls.

Turning around the mother daughter duo found a little boy jumping up and down, pointing at the same hall they were about to go down. A gruff looking man, presumably the boy’s father, made his way down the hall at a leisurely place.

“Calm down bud, it’s not going anywhere.”

Without turning around, the little boy started walking backwards, and before anyone realized what was happening he knocked into Y/n.

He wasn’t going fast enough to topple her, but she yelped in pain as he kicked her leg. Her arm jerked up, elbowing him under the chin and making him bite his tongue. Whining in pain, he stuck his tongue out and checked it for blood.

“Sorry,” he apologized, though it was muffled as his tongue hung out of his mouth.

“Oops,” the boy's father said, coming up behind him. “Are you both okay?”

He placed a hand on his son's shoulder, and the boy looked up at him. The man frowned a bit, noticing the teeth dents on his son's tongue, and sighed before turning back to Y/n. Her mother had crouched down to check her leg, even though she didn’t think she’d find anything.

“No bruise,” her mother assured, patting her leg and standing up.

“That’s good. Bud, tongue in your mouth. I know it hurts but we’re in public.”

“It stiiings,” the boy whined, not putting his tongue back in his mouth.

“I’ll get you ice cream, now, tongue in your mouth. Please.” He turned to Y/n’s mom. “Really sorry about that, he doesn’t always watch where he’s going.”

“It’s no worry.” She extended a hand and introduced herself, “and this is Y/n.”

The girl gave a small wave from behind her mother.

“Gallagher, and this is my son…” He looked down, finding his son sticking his tongue out again and going cross-eyed trying to see why it hurt. Gallagher pinched his son's ear, making the boy yelp and close his mouth. “How about I buy you two ice-cream as an apology for all this.”

“Oh, no, that’s fine,” Y/n’s mom assured. “It’s just part of being a kid.”

“Please, I insist.”

“Really it’s-” Y/n tugged sharply on her mother’s sleeve, and the woman crouched down she she could whisper in her ear. Her mother sighed, a fond smile on her face as she shook her head. “Besides,” gallagher spoke again, “it seems like we’re looking at the same exhibit anyways.”

He gestured at the exhibit hall they were still standing in front of.

Before Y/n’s mom could propose an alternative, Gallagher’s son spoke again.

“Dad, ice-cream.”

The boy stuck his tongue out again, a warning.

“Alright, alright,” he laughed.

“I can pay for us,” Y/n’s mother said as the four of them headed towards the little food court.

It was roped off from the rest of the museum, and you weren’t allowed to bring food out to preserve the exhibits.

“Alright, why don’t you two get us a seat?”

Y/n gave a tentative nod, letting go of her mom and looking around for an empty seat.

“There’s one,” Gallagher’s son said, grabbing her hand and pulling her off towards it.

The two parents watched them settle down before getting in line at the snack stall.

“Have we met before?” Y/n’s mom asked, turning away from watching her daughter listen to the young boy sitting beside her.

Gallagher shrugged, almost a bit too fast. Like he was waiting for that question.

“Maybe, I’m part of the bloodhound family.” He lowered his voice, “I was also at your wedding to Mr. Sunday.”

That caught her off guard, and she turned back to the kids. Gallagher’s son was still doing most of the talking, loud enough she could barely make out they were talking about exhibits, but Y/n seemed to be pitching in.

“Thank you for not saying that too loud.”

“No problem.”

The line moved up, letting them order.

When they returned to the table, Gallagher’s son was relaying a story about the Watchmaker that had Y/n completely invested. It was something about a hidden region of the dreamscape and a dragon that-

“Alright bud, ice-cream’s here. But since your tongue seems better, I guess I can-”

“No!”

The boy practically lunged across the table, ramming his knee into the bench. He yelped in pain and sat back down, trying to rub away the tingling sensation while Gallagher just sighed and set the ice-cream in front of him.

“It is a miracle you haven’t broken something.”

“I broke my arm once,” Y/n mumbled, poking at her treat, “it hurt.”

“Really?! That’s so cool, how’d you break it.”

“I fell out of a tree… I wanted to see the baby birds.”

“I’ve never seen a real bird. There aren’t any here on Penacony. Have you seen the origami birds?”

“No,” Y/n shook her head, then took a bite of her treat.

“There’s a bunch in the golden hour, I can show you sometime if you’d like?”

Y/n looked up at her mom.

“It won’t be in the next few days, but I can give Mr. Gallagher my number and we can arrange something.”

“Aww, why not?”

“I’m going to see my daddy,” Y/n’s entire demeanor brightened up. “He’s busy with work, and mommy and I don’t live here anymore, so I don't see him a lot.”

“Your dad’s a pretty cool guy, I work with him sometimes.”

“My daddy is super cool,” Y/n giggled.

Gallagher’s son gasped all of a sudden, startling everyone. “We should invite big bro Misha!”

Gallagher smiled fondly. “We can do that.”

---

“We meet again!” Gallagher greeted, waving as his son ran ahead to greet Y/n.

Y/n’s mother smiled brightly and looked down to Y/n who had tucked herself behind her skirt but was speaking softly with the boy.

“So we do. Thank you, again, for taking her out. I’m sorry I can’t join you but, parenting stuff, you know how it is.”

Gallagher nodded. “Absolutely.” He turned to Y/n, grabbing his son by the collar to pull him back and give her space. “Hey, ready to go?”

She gave a small nod, then looked up at her mother for confirmation. When she got a nod of approval, she slowly stepped away from her and looked up at Gallagher. Y/n almost seemed to be trying to make herself look bigger, the wings by her ears fluffed up and the ones around her waist hovered over her body, more intimidating or just less afraid.

“Can I hold your hand?” She asked, in a steady voice.

“Sure,” he smiled, holding a hand out.

Y/n took it cautiously, still a little unsure but her wings settled down.

“Hey dad, I wanna hold your hand too!”

“I have two hands,” he laughed. “Now let’s get going, Misha’s gonna meet us by the Clockie statue.”

“Bye mommy,” Y/n called back, waving over her shoulder.”

“Bye angel!”

The three left the entry point of golden hour and headed towards the Clockie statue.

Y/n held tightly to Gallagher’s hand while his son quickly let go and moved around to her side. She shrunk into him a bit more, and the boy seemed to pick up on it and backed off a little though he still continued talking animatedly. He was telling her all about this Misha they were going to meet.

They stopped for a quick snack, “dreamlight” mixed sweets, and took a quick detour because Misha was running late.

There was a small fountain they sat on the edge of while they ate, and Gallagher’s son pointed out all the coins along the bottom. He tried counting them, but someone else tossed another coin in and the ripple caused him to lose count.

Y/n and Gallagher laughed at his annoyance, and Gallagher was forced to haul him by the collar of his shirt when he went to lunge at the Pepeshi. They quickly rushed off when the Pepeshi looked up.

Circling back towards the Clockie statue, Gallagher’s son quickly spotted the boy they’d been waiting for.

“Misha!” He yelled, waving wildly as he bounded down the stairs.

Caught up in the boy’s excitement, Y/n tried to follow his pace but missed a step and landed on the ledge of the next. She felt her heart lurch in her body as a strangled squeal escaped her throat as she felt nothing solid under her foot.

Before she could fall, a strong grip grabbed her arm and hauled her back.

She stared wide eyed at the Clockie statue ahead, and the two boys by the bench were none the wiser. Gallagher loosened his grip on her arm and moved to crouch in front of her.

“You okay?” Y/n blinked a few times before making a noise of affirmation. Gallagher brushed her outfit off and gave her a comforting smile. “Good. Let’s take our time on the stairs, ya?”

“Thank you,” she mumbled, taking the hand he offered and slowly descending the last few stairs.

“Hey, Y/n! Come meet Misha!”

[potionsprefect]

Midnight Sky

Pairings: Ethan Ramsey x Victoria Clarke

Word Count: 557

Summary: The cold winter nights set in in Boston

Rating: General Audiences

Category: Angst, Fluff

For @choicesdecember2022 day 4: “moon”

The Christmas tree lights twinkled in the dimly lit room as Victoria looked out the window, the sky was full of stars, the moon shining brightly above her.

Victoria felt a presence next to her and saw Ethan make himself comfortable next to her on the couch.

“Isn’t it weird how so many people are probably looking at the moon right now? And they’re in different parts of the world.” Victoria said.

Ethan chuckled. “Late night thoughts with you are always riveting.”

“I am a woman with interesting conversation most of the time.” Victoria shrugged.

Ethan pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Don’t I know it.” He smiled. “Was there something else you were thinking about?”

Victoria sighed. “I wonder what the new year will bring. This time next Christmas we could have a baby with us. I hope that is the case.”

Ethan pulled her into his arms. “Me too.”

They had made the decision back in October that they would decide to start trying for a baby. So far they had been unsuccessful but Victoria knew it wouldn’t happen straight away. She had hope last month when she woke up feeling nauseous but a pregnancy test came back negative.

“Can you imagine if it does happen? I hope to find the cutest Christmas outfit.” Victoria smiled.

“It will happen one day my love. And when it does, we will deal with it together.”

The couple continued to look out at the night sky, optimistic of the future.

The clouds were trying to break away to reveal a full moon, the stars twinkling around them.

Victoria and Ethan were sat on the couch by the window, Luke in Ethan’s arms and Lily in Victoria’s.

“This time last year we were sat waiting for you. Never did we think we’d have two with us.” Victoria smiled.

Ethan laughed. “And the moon is the same as it was last year.”

“It is. Last year we were hoping for a miracle, now we have two.”

Luke and Lily stirred in their parents arms.

“You’re a bit too young to understand Christmas but one year you are going to love it. And Mommy and I can’t wait to start so many traditions with you.” Ethan smiled as he pressed a gentle kiss to Luke’s forehead.

Outside the window, the snow began to fall slowly, gently setting on the ground.

“It’s snowing. Looks like we’re going to have a white Christmas.” Victoria said.

“That means shovelling snow off the driveway.” Ethan rolled his eyes.

“When you do, I’ll have some hot chocolate ready for you.” Victoria laughed. “And you’ll get cuddles afterwards.”

“When you put it like that, it doesn’t sound so bad.” Ethan laughed.

The family of four continued to look out into the dark sky, the moon now fully broken from the clouds, shining brightly down onto the city below.

Victoria’s Christmas wish last year that they would have a baby with them come next Christmas. Now, her and Ethan had two little ones in their family who were so loved and wanted.

Every Christmas going forward was going to be amazing, now that Luke and Lily were in their lives, Victoria and Ethan would make sure that they would have as much fun as possible.

For now, they would settle for the unlimited amount of cuddles they get.

It went a little bit angsty but then I made it fluffy lol

Tagging in reblog

[marvelsimp]

The New Kid: The Future

Ch. 9

The New Kid Masterlist

My Masterlist

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Fix-it, Self-Insert, Pairing: Peter & Lesbian!reader, Avengers & Reader, Wanda x Reader, background Steve x Bucky, Shuri x reader if you squint Warnings: swearing, talk of dead loved ones, Description: Some Wakandans come for a visit. Reader’s Powers: Healer, telepath, and empath. Word Count: 1473

“Shit. Shit. Shit,” mumbled the billionaire. You jumped out of your seat because usually that meant that his hand was about to be cut off. “What?” He raised his head and stared at me with wide eyes, “I fucking forgot!” You paused, “Forgot what?” “That king is coming tomorrow !” He stared at me with dread. After pulling himself off of his metaphorical ledge he quickly came to a stopping point, yelled instructions at FRIDAY, and frantically ran to the stairs. “Y/n, clean up and get out!” he yelled while trying not to trip and fall.

“Good luck!” you yelled. Since Thanos came Wakanda and the Avengers have been working together to maintain global peace. From your knowledge Tony’s only physical interaction with any of them was when Wakanda’s King T’Chaka was killed and their then prince joined his side to stop half of the other Avengers…. so you assumed that Tony was feeling pretty intimidated. And that’s from the guy who turned a weapons company to one the produces clean energy that has made the threat of Climate Change almost dissipate. But you of course know that Pepper did all of the heavy lifting while Tony created an AI who almost destroyed the world. Okay…. now that you think about it he probably has a good reason to be scared that he’s gonna fuck this up.

“I’ve heard she’s nice,” Peter poked while you both got dressed. “…and incredibly smart, I'm sure smarter than your dumbass” you teased. He groaned and rolled his neck. “Come on, you know what I mean,” his eyebrows wiggled. You finished tucking in your blouse only sighing in response. He stared at you, wiggling his eyebrows a little harder. Hoping for a reaction. “You’re an ass,” you stared back, “And I’m not even out to anyone here anyways.” “Why do you think I got you that flag?” his voice went up at the end, slightly cracking. “Fuck off,” you retorted grining from ear to ear. He flipped you off and then tripped over some shoes on the floor. “For someone who has the Peter Tingle,” you reached your hand out to help him up, “you sure are clumsy.” “It doesn’t work on shoes,” he said, accepting your hand. “Excuse me,” the AI voice rang overhead. You both jumped with Peter screaming, “OH GOD.” “Yes?” you giggled. “The Wakandans are soon to arrive. Mr. Stark said and I quote ‘If you don’t get your asses up here in the next 5 minutes you're not allowed to work in the lab for a month.’ So I would recommend that you head up soon.” “Thanks,” you said to the voice. You turned to Peter and grinned, “I’ll race you to the elevator.”

“Calm down,” the brunette whispered, nudging you. Excitement. “I am calm.” “I can literally feel the anxiety radiating off of you… wait is that a part of your powers?” You paused, staring at him, “I. Dont. Think. So?” “Hmph. Fair enough. I didn’t find out about…” “The Peter Tingle,” you teased, interrupting. “Until forever later,” he said in monotone, not impressed. “Hey,” said a voice behind you, Wanda, you'd know her anywhere. You felt her lightly touch your elbow, grabbing your attention away from your slightly grumpy best friend. You smiled, “Hi.” Her cheeks lit up, “Are you excited to meet them? They’re nice, and Shuri’s intelligence compares to yours so I think you will like her.” You followed her every word, nodding in response. Panic. “I haven’t seen them since…um…” She paused, that was a common occurrence, she’d either be making sure you were paying attention or collecting her thoughts. This was different, quiet. Almost like she was afraid to say it. Oh. Thanos. “Him,” you completed. She nodded, it's only been a year and a half since then so most wounds aren’t fully healed. Lives were lost… Loves were lost. You pushed the topic away, that was something you could think about at another time, the Avenger’s main priority for the day was to get the Wakandans’ settled before tomorrow night’s party. You’d be able to meet more of the Avengers. The next thing you know, a ship lands in the loading dock. It's very futuristic, even for Avengers standards. It’s definitely the coolest thing you’ve seen in person. When it landed, it opened, it sort of made you think of the cave in Aladdin. It was very dramatic. First, three women stepped out, warriors. You know that Wakanda has an elite force of female warriors, which is badass. You can’t remember their name. Then, the king steps out, King T’Challa. He’s calm, happy. He and his companions walk up to Tony and Steve. He first fakes a formal greeting then gives them both hugs, like old friends. Which you are pretty sure they are at this point. God, the warriors are honestly terrifying, and they radiate it too. Some seem slightly bored but most of them are on high alert and you are confident that they can defeat any threat that may appear. “Slow down brother,” a voice yelled from the ship. A skinny, dark skinned woman appeared from the ship's entrance. “I had not even noticed that we had arrived and you are already greeting everyone!” One of the warriors stared at her, she radiated a different type of authority from the others, a stronger type. “I told you that we were about to land five minutes ago,” she spoke in a hushed tone, still trying to be formal, although both the King and the woman who you are now assuming is Princess Shuri. “Well, excuse me but I was doing something important, Okoye!” stated the Princess who was obviously teasing. “I would not call ‘Tiktok’ important.” “I’m doing research on American culture, Peter told me it was the best way to know what people my age do here.” Shuri was walking in your and Peter’s direction now, not caring to actually look your way though. Anxiety. Peter started to say something but decided not to. The girl was now three feet infront of the boy. She stopped for a moment, finishing typing something. “I thought that you didn’t know her,” you whispered. “We text,” the boy shrugged. Oh, they're called the Dora Milaje! The woman finally put her phone away and looked up at Peter. Grins slowly grew on their faces. Joy. “Now, Doctor Spider, what are your latest accomplishments?” Shuri said in a posh british accent, trying her best not to laugh. “Well, I have worked on many projects since we last met, possibly I could show you?” he replied, sounding like Dick Van Dyke in Mary Poppins. The two linked elbows and started to turn to leave. “Don’t burn down the lab!” Tony instructed in a fatherly tone. Doctor Spider paused for a moment, nodded his head and linked his other elbow into yours. You in return linked yours with Wanda’s.

“Peter, this is brilliant!” The Princess exclaimed. “But it could still use some improvements. If I gave you some vibranium for these connections, your whole suit would run that much smoother. I mean.. it would run better if we only used vibranium but that’s not going to happen. I believe there is some available vibranium in my lab–we can do it now or later.” Peter nodded, maybe a little too excitedly and started collecting his suit to take it to the other lab. “Sorry, Wanda, with all of this science talk. It looks like it’s all going over your head.” Shuri grimiced. “No, no, I’ve actually started to enjoy it.” She looked at you for a split second and you could swear your heart stopped beating. “I don’t always understand it but it almost sounds like a spell so it's familiar. Vis used to ramble on about these things to me not much unlike Y/n does.” “I’m glad I don’t bore you when I bring you up here,” you smirked. “So, Y/n,” Shuri started. “What are you doing here? I know you’re Peter’s friend and your intelligence almost rivals mine. But you,” she waved her hand in the general direction of the three of you, “tend to have tragic backstories. Most are orphans” Shaw gave an awkward glance towards Peter and Wanda. “Are you an orphan too?” She glared. “I’m joking!” In a split second her demeanor changed. “That was way too personal wasn’t it” She whispered, looking at Peter. He nodded. “Excuse me,” F.R.I.D.A.Y interrupted. Causing you to jump. “Miss Maximoff, Agent Romanoff has requested your presence in the conference room immediately.” “I’ll head that way,” Wanda responded. “I have to go. I will… see you later.” She squeezed your hand and left. “Can we go to your lab?” Peter almost squealed out with excitement, his suit now in his hands.

Taglist:

@wandas-lovey @xoxmariaxoxh @captainam-erika-trash @slytheringalathynius @wiccanlesbians @mary-wolf04 @musicalraven100 @missloveii @shalessathleteoperatoad @zealouspalacecopgiant-blog

Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist!

Note: Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays everyone! I'm not dead! I finally finished this chapter while avoiding family. I hope yall like it. It's a pretty chill chapter, much like the weather lol

[kitty-is-writing]

Kitty's Pride Month short #7!

Looks like I finished a few more of these than I thought. I also have the same amount yet to finish, so... maybe next year?

This short is about Narak, a trans man finding out there's more than one way to bind a chest.

🩵🩷🤍🩷🩵

It was just an extra step, really, to getting dressed in the morning. Get up, void bladder, find shoes and trousers, wrap cloth tightly around chest, pull on shirt. After so many years, he was used to it, securing the bindings was almost second nature by now, so how had he managed to mess it up this morning? The damn things had to come loose in the middle of dealing with a rival gang leader, too. He could almost feel his chest expanding, like a pair of sacks slowly filling with grain. He leant forwards, arms crossed to hold them down a bit, hoping the posture looked intimidating instead of stupid.

Less than a minute later, the other man’s eyes had drifted down to his chest, and he grabbed his hair, pulling his head back up. “My eyes are up here, you know.”

“Hey, easy. Those weren’t there a minute ago, right?”

“The hell difference does that make? We’re trying to agree on territory lines here, not gawp at each other’s bodies.”

The other man, Lopor, didn’t seem nearly as bothered as he should have been. “It doesn’t make a damn bit of difference to me, man, but some of my guys - and probably yours, too - might get weird about it. If you need a hand doing it back up when we’re done, I used to help my brother out with his all the time.”

Narak blinked, and let go of the man’s hair. “You have a brother?”

“Yeah, Milagar. He’s had his… unwanted bits removed now, but he used to bind when he was younger. I think I can remember how he did it.”

The gang lines discussion forgotten, Narak leant in. “He found a healer willing to perform an operation like that? All the ones I’ve spoken to said it’s too risky and they wouldn’t do it unless they had to.”

“He went to that new university place they built out in Yoscar, you know the one? There’s a bunch of healers out there doing research and stuff, and they’ve come up with some new technique that lets them do stuff like that more safely.”

“Can they do anything about the lower half?” He was thinking of Kolena, who he knew had a far worse time of it than he did. He’d lost count of the times he’d wished and prayed for a way the two of them could trade bodies.

“Not that I know of yet, but I think Gar said they’re working on it. They might have come up with something by now. I guess they could take some of the flesh from the top and reshape it somehow? I dunno, I’m not a healer, but there should be some way.”

Narak shrugged. “Yeah, but I was thinking more of the other way round. A friend of mine is going the other way, and she’s had a lot of trouble with her unwanted bit downstairs. Tried slicing it off herself as a kid.”

“Ouch.” Lopor winced at the thought. “Listen, I don’t have much detail for you, but I’ll get Gar to put you in touch with the healers that did his op. Maybe they can do a kind of swap, you know? Give you and your friend each other’s bits?”

“Heh. That might be a little strange, but I’ll take it. I think I’ve worked with Gar before, when there was all that separation business going on. He’ll know where to find me.” Narak leant back in the chair. “Now, where were we?”

The man shrugged. “Tell you what. I’ll concede Hunter Street and West Avenue, if you give us Cartwright Way. Deal?”

“What about the market square? I’m not going to leave with that still a warzone.”

“Let’s call it neutral ground. Neither of us can operate there, since whoever has it gets an unfair advantage over the other.” Lopor grinned. “If we both play it smart, we can even share some profit by keeping independents off the traders. Offer them a little security for a small protection fee, you know?”

“I like the way you think. Alright, we have a deal.” The two men shook hands. “Let’s get these things wrapped back up then.”

After a minute or two of dithering, they worked out it would be easiest for Narak to hold himself in while Lopor wrapped the bindings around. It was a slightly more complex method than Narak usually used, involving crossing the strip of cloth over itself at the back, and looping over the shoulders a few times. “For support, see. Gar always said they were heavy enough to pull at the bottom of the cloth, and unravelled the thing after a while. This way they’re not quite as flat, but they’re kept in tighter. Got those pins?”

Narak handed them over. “Think you can show me how this is done? It feels more secure than what I was doing before already.”

“Sure. The trick is to wrap it around itself a couple of times at the back here,” Lopor said, tapping what felt like a small knot where the cloth was crossed over itself. “That stops it slipping too much, and then the bits over the shoulders hold it up better. Like I said, it’s not quite as flat, but at least they’ll stay put all day. If you want, I’m sure Gar can explain it better.”

“I’ll ask him when I see him next, then.” Narak nodded his thanks, and the two men left the back room of the bar. The handful of gang members that had accompanied Lopor followed him out, and Narak gathered his own people. On the way back to their own streets, he caught sight of a pair of Talri-Pekra’s acolytes outside the library, and resolved to contact Kolena as soon as he could. She had far more trouble dealing with her body than he did, and would probably appreciate any kind of news regarding safe alterations.

[tothedarkdarkseas]

Hi anon! Since I can’t add a read more to the ask itself I’m just copying your text below, and I’ll respond to it at the bottom!

Anonymous asked:

Hi. Your WIP inspired me.

2.

The second time, it was on accident. He wakes up to a pounding under his skull, body not feeling much better, and a foggy memory of last night's events.

Shockingly, that isn't new. Not even a surprise.

The bed he's in (he's actually in a bed, that's one point) is soft at least, (unlike his bed at home, another point) which serves as a blatant reminder that he's not where hes supposed to be.

He opens one, now two eyes, and looks over at the body next to him.

Blonde hair that looks white in the sun covers her face. Whoever she is. He doesn't care.

Despite the protests of his spine, he sits up, and looks around. It's clean, cleaner than he's used to. The girl couldn't be that bad, as he takes notice of the pictures on the walls. Older people, presumably family. There's a desk in the corner, notebooks stacked neatly, a calendar showing the current month. She really had her stuff together. That's new. Poser, he thinks, offhandedly.

Murdoc doesn't think about why he already believes that anyone who would sleep with him must have something wrong with them, at the age of 24.

He gets out of bed slowly. He would deny actually caring about disturbing the girl's sleep. It's more that he doesn't want to see her face, see the disappointment of a man she brought into her room. He didn't want to see her eyes become dark. He didn't want to see his reflection in them.

His clothes were easy enough to find. They stuck out, the one mess in the room. Would his smell stay after he was gone? Would she wake up, scrunch her nose, and clean up after him before brushing her own teeth?

Nowadays, he doesn't wear pants. It's punk, he says, but that's a shit excuse. The reality is that when you're starving or aching from withdrawals, "new pants" doesn't really take priority on the shopping list. But now, the thought of the chafing denim on the walk home makes Murdoc's brows crease.

It's a new low.

He begins to slip on the first pair of knickers he finds. Laying on her vanity, he presumes they were tossed off from last night. They're ugly. Purple, with a pink lace around the waist and each leg hole.

He sees.

He can't stop himself from looking at his reflection.

The way they lay on his hips, how his thighs spill over the pink edge on each side. The bulge is a disgusting reminder that this is wrong. Yet pathetically, soft, it's contained in the small fabric. This is wrong. But as he turns around, A look over his shoulder and-

Fuuuuck. Shit. Shitshitshitshit. Fuck.

He slips on his jeans. His jacket. Boots. He's a whore, his thinks, when he remembers he left his house without a shirt.

He walks home with a red face.

The knickers stay on, for the rest of that day.

Thank you for sending me your take, I’m really flattered that this inspired you at all and holy cow, I’m very impressed with how quickly you whipped that up! I swear, there’s a cog missing in my brain that makes speedy writing feel like an impossibility, haha. You just banged it right out!

You and I are very much on the same page here! This probably won’t surprise you given our conversations on this blog, but you nailed the prediction (whether you meant to or not!) One of the five scenes I outlined was indeed Murdoc stealing knickers from a girl he’d shagged; given it’s canon that he steals purses and whatever else he fancies including clothing, I think this is just such a natural assumption to make. In the WIP, he’s begun wearing knickers on stage, making a spectacle of it, doing it for jeers and heckles and the punkish attitude that, in Murdoc’s case, bridges into antisocial behaviour. He doesn’t have to have the conversation with himself if he’s instead having the conflict with everyone else. The part where he feels something quieter than that, though, the part where he’s not yet given himself permission to wear them elsewhere-- that’s the next thing to contend with. By the time he’s snatching the knickers in a scene like this, there’s no audience to call him names nor an element of in-band fighting over their image, there’s no spite he can justify it with, and so there’s no reason to do it but the private desire to. And I think in your version you captured the very same feeling, making something he’d framed to himself as a statement into a secret. I love the concept of making the things you do alone so much scarier than the things you do under a spotlight. That feels very Murdoc to me.

[sakarrie-creates]

2022 Fic Round-Up/Reflection

Am I over a month late? Yes. Is that going to stop me? Nnnnnnope.

Another year gone and another end of year summary! Yeash, it’s been a rough creative year haha. I’ve practically done nothing but school and work, which has certainly been problematic for writing. It’s been a productive adulting year though, so hopefully this dead period will help me find more opportunities down the line. My gosh I’m ready to be done with school already.

Since I’ve really not written much this year, this will be an abridged version of my reflection from last year’s template. That being said, I’m still very rambly so you can see the details below the cut!

2022 Stats:

Fics Started: 11 Fics Fully Written: 3 Fics Posted: 2 New WIPs: 7 Total WIPs: 20 (ish?) Words Written: 25,950 (33,176 if including documents of pure brainstorm ramble lol) Words Posted: 9,541 Fandoms Written For: 2 Events: 2 (+1)

Posted Fics

Carmen Sandiego (Gen): 1

So Long As You're With Me (7,804): It's been several months since Team Red rescued Player from the clutches of VILE and snapped him out of their control... mostly. His base personality is back, but he still doesn't remember them from anything other than the false memories VILE created for him. And it's just their luck that VILE painted Carmen and company in such a way that Player thinks that their attempts to help him is all some elaborate form for torture, and it doesn't help that he's currently recovering from an injury she caused. Carmen is near her wit's end, but she refuses to give up on her oldest and best friend.

Supernatural (Gen): 1

Still the Same (1,737): After a hunt, Sam and Dean watch the stars for the first time since Dean came back from Hell. Things are finally starting to fall back into place between them, but it's impossible to ignore the ways things have changed. 

Specifics:

Events Participated In:

SPN Summergen, Player Appreciation Week (Fic and Art), Code Secret Santa (Art), Miraculous Magic Zine (Revamp Fic), and Fandom Trumps Hate (Offered Art/Fic).

General questions:

Looking back, did you write more fics than you thought you would this year, less than you thought, or about what you predicted?

Oof, hard to answer. Definitely less than I’d hoped and maybe still a fair bit less than I expected, but I did know that my life was about to get swallowed by school and I wasn’t wrong. I definitely wish I had been able to participate in more events for sure and I’ve had a lot of inspiration for all sorts of stuff that I just haven’t had the brain power for unfortunately. What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted last year?

I mean, looking at posting, I only have two options lol. In general though, I stuck fairly close to my norm for all that. I poked around time travel AUs which was fun but most of that was brainstorming/animatic storyboarding rather than writing.

What’s your favorite story this year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you the happiest.

Definitely So Long As You're With Me! That AU lives in my head rent free and boy howdy I’d love to share it all one day but there’s just so much to it. I swear, the pieces I have shared are hardly recognisable as the same story haha. Anyway, it’s definitely a little rushed at some points, but it was a very crammed piece that just kept getting longer, so I’ll take it!

Okay, NOW your most popular story.

Since I’ve only posted two new works this year, we’re going to go overall. Which would definitely still be Fragmentation. It’s got 20.3k views!! That’s only 400 less than it’s total word count and it seems like the hit count keeps going up slowly, which is wild to consider it’s on FF.net in a faded fandom and has been complete for like a year. Next up would be The Problem With Good Intentions at 11k, which also blows me away a bit cause Merlin ended a decade ago but I’m proud of the fandom for staying alive! XD

Story most underappreciated by the universe?

Probably still A Letter to Never Be Read on FF.net. It’s a pretty niche fic, so I can’t really be surprised but I felt artsy writing it way back when lol.

Most overdue story?

Welp, It’s Only Natural is certainly overdue, but I don’t think anyone is really following that one so it’s not in a rush. A Long Ways Home on the other hand drives me crazy cause I’ve actually been wanting to write for it, but brainpower’s been too low from school. Can’t believe it’s been a year. :’(

Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them?

Tbh, not really? I pushed myself in what I did, but it was all relatively in my comfort zone. I guess I tried writing in S4 of Supernatural in Still the Same, but that doesn’t feel much like a risk. I also tried out some writing from screenshot prompts which was super fun and interesting, but unfortunately that was sniped by lack of time/energy too. So I guess not really this year.

How’d this year compare to your goals of last year?

Oh boy, I’m so intimidated to read these paragraphs haha. I bet I did like none of them. We’ll start with the bullet list though since that should be fairly straightforward. -Unfortunately, prioritizing school is honestly my biggest writing goal this year. So if I do that all successfully and get through any more than like, 1-2 of these, it will be a success haha. 

-A Long Ways Home (Gonna break it up into Chapter 3, Chapter 4, and if that’s not the epilogue, then an epilogue. I’m determined and really think it’s doable, I just need to be careful not to overestimate again) WIP Bang if not done by Summer. -SPN Summergen -PAB if enough interest -February week event -Loyalties AU Plotting/Drafting -SQZ Zines -Comments

If crazy inspired year: -Gencest Bang -WIP Bang with It’s Only Natural -Post More CS One-shots -Other Zines

Okay, so some of those crossings are a little generous, but I wanted to at least check off the school one haha. Tbh, though, it wasn’t as bad as I expected! I did a decent job of having low expectations lol.

What are your fic writing goals for next year?

Oh boy. See I wish that this last year being so sad would mean this year would be back to creative rush, but I’m already a month in and I haven’t even tried writing anything other than school papers. I’ve been getting surprisingly into Huntlow (omg, Sakarrie having a romantic ship that she’s like legit into????? whacK), so it’d be fun to experiment with some fic there! Willow needs more angst fic to balance out our traumatized golden boi. Trying to find some zines would also be fun! And I’ll be sad if I ever have to miss Summergen cause it’s 100% my favorite event of the year. Oh, and of course I’m hoping to be able to participate more in Player Appreciation Week this coming month!! Shameless plug.

I’d also like to make some progress on A Long Ways Home, so hopefully in my Summer break I’ll finally have a chance to sit down and write. I’m not going to be dumb enough to put time frame estimations on it again though haha. I also am not a huge fan of having WIPs just sitting out there so if I could knock off It’s Only Natural sometime, that’d be great, but it’s honestly not a priority and I haven’t been feeling Voltron for a bit.

As for other plans, Loyalties AU and EverYOnE is bROkeN AU both haunt me at night and then there’s the time travel au that just has my brain zooming whenever I think about it. They just all get so intense and I WANT to share that intensity cause I know they could be epic, but first I gotta finalize the details, then I gotta have the skills to pull it off, then I gotta actually write sooooooooooooo we’ll see where those get me.

Okay so comments. Bah that project is such a mindset monster haha. I want to be supportive and express thanks to those who write and comment, but also the more pressure I put on it, the harder it gets. I feel like it makes reading new fics very intimidating and makes leaving chill comments harder. I think it would be nice to get through, but I think my goal for this year is to let my 1000 tabs go and just comment/respond in the moment whenever I can and not overthink it. I do want to catch up on replies though so that can be my comment goal for this year. In terms of my numbers, though, I did meet my generous goal of 20k written and 10k posted this year! (Rounding a little but close enough.) And I met my ultimate wc goal if brainstorming essays count!

Bullet list time!

2023:

-Unfortunately, keeping my scholarship has to be my biggest goal this year again so gonna put that here in case it's the only thing I can check off come December. -A Long Ways Home (at least 1 new chapter) -SPN Summergen -At least 3/7 Player Appreciation Week days -Catch up on comment replies -At least do some more brainstorming for bigger CS aus -Huntlow/Owl House fics? -One zine?

If crazy inspired year: -All of A Long Ways Home -All Player Appreciation Week Days -WIP Bang with It’s Only Natural -Post More CS One-shots -Write out more big AU scenes -Other Zines

So with that, I’m gonna set my word count bar pretty low again haha. In fact, I think I’ll just leave it as it was last year.

Easy Goal Word Count Goal: 20k (at least 10k posted)

Stretch Goal (aka, if I don’t die from school): 40k (at least 25k posted)

Ultimate 2023 Word Count Goal: 30k

[a-land-lacking-sleep]

Submas/PLA Fic: Electric Trains are the Future Ch. 4 - An Excadrill-ating Day!

Previous Chapter (3) - Current Chapter - Next Chapter (5)

Chapter 4 of Electric Trains is now live! Starting with this update, I’ll be posting weekly, as I go back to work within the week. I have a buffer, so I should be steady on updating until the fic is done!

Chapter Summary: Elesa gets to know her coworkers in Jubilife, and gears up for battle. Chapter Word Count: 3411

As always, you can read the fic here or on AO3 with additional notes! All chapters will be crossposted, and reblogs and comments are appreciated!

He is Emmet.

This day could not get any worse. He had already lost his brother three years ago, and now he’s lost his wife. He refuses to sleep until he’s had a chance to study the footage, but the police keep saying that they need to investigate it first.

They couldn’t find his brother, could he trust them to find Elesa?

Finally, finally, after weeks, the video was sent to Emmet. One of the officers realized how badly it was affecting him, and took some small pity on him, though they didn’t think it was healthy to see it. But Emmet watched the video meticulously. He watched it repeatedly at different volumes, different speeds, with different headphones and on different screens. 

He is Emmet. He has come to a conclusion. He is going to Alola.

The sun had woken up Elesa an hour previously, but she was so tired. Between the photo shoot she had been doing, then the temporal kidnapping Akari put her through, and then the emotional drain of the last night with Ingo, she felt like she could sleep for a month. But Ingo left the window cover open, and it was shining right on her face after a few hours. 

It wasn’t until Elesa heard the door open that she groaned and eventually rolled over. “Ingo, next time can yo-” That wasn’t Ingo.

Standing over Elesa was a tall Pokemon, covered in lilac fur with darker purple on the face and paws. Speaking of paws, there were some giant claws attached to them, holding what seemed to be a similarly colored Sneasel that was wildly waving its arms at Elesa, being held only a foot above her chest.

Of course her Pokeballs were still on the table.

“Sneeeea?” The Pokemon cocks its head and gently places the Sneasel on Elesa’s chest, where it just kicks its feet and lightly baps its clawed paws on her chest, lightly enough to not hurt her. The taller Pokemon makes an approving noise, and suddenly there are four more of these weird Sneasels surrounding Elesa poking and prodding at her, eventually settling to climb onto her.

As Elesa struggles to sit up with so many Sneasels swarming her, the taller Pokemon (probably their mom?) sits down at the table, leaning back against the table as she starts just talking away. Unfortunately, Elesa doesn’t understand a word that is said.

“Are you one of Ingo’s Pokemon?” Elesa finally asks, cutting the Pokemon off. The Pokemon pauses, and tilts her head before shaking it. She brings her paw up under her face and presents the best imitation of Ingo’s expression that Elesa figures a Pokemon could do, then taps her wrist and laughs. 

“Sneasler!” The Sneasler cries out.

“I’m going to assume yes?” Elesa says as she slowly picks the Sneasels off of her and stands up, flattening her shirt a bit to remove the wrinkles, though it’s now covered in fur. “I’m going to be heading out, I need to meet with some of my new coworkers. Bosses? Audino, really.” She goes to get her coat, which she finds has already been claimed by several of the Sneasel as a bed and thus is no longer her coat. She hopes they get sand in their fur.

Taking a pair of Ingo’s sandals to replace her missing heels, Elesa leaves a short note in Galarian for Ingo.

I don’t know what this Sneasler thing is, but I think she’s gonna follow me for the day. I’m pretty sure I got designated babysitter. I’ll be at Arezu’s or the Training Grounds when you get back.

And true to her guess, as she left Ingo’s house, so did Sneasler and all of the Sneasels, some even jumping up onto her back and digging into her shirt to climb. Not the best solution, but it at least kept her warm enough without the coat. She had the feeling that Sneasler was laughing at her, glad that her kids were having fun at Elesa’s expense.

Getting directions to the hair salon wasn’t that hard once she found a Security Corps member, since most people were leery of the half-dozen Pokemon children running around her. Thankfully, it was a quick walk to the hair salon, where she saw a girl with red hair staring up at the clouds, gently stroking a Purugly that was dozing next to her.

“Hello there!” Elesa calls out politely. The girl takes a moment to notice the call, and looks over with a lazy smile and wave. “Are you Arezu?”

“That’s me!” Arezu says with energy that her smile didn’t quite show. She plants her feet on the ground and hops up, her Purugly lifting its head and looking at all the Sneasels in apprehension. “Are you the new girl that Akari mentioned might be helping us out?”

“Yes, my name is Elesa!” She could already see loving to spend time with Arezu just on these vibes alone. “I have a different set up at home, so I’ll need to get used to what you have here. I’m also going to be doing work with the Security Corps, so I won’t be here full time.”

“Oh, that’s fine,” Arezu says with a laugh as she starts leading Elesa inside, pointing Purugly to the very excited Sneasels. If a cat could sigh, she’s sure this one would as she dutifully went to distract the small weasels. Sneasler thankfully also stayed behind to keep an eye on her kids, so Elesa was able to enter the salon in peace.

Inside is an older woman working on someone’s hair, who looks up from her work momentarily to greet the two with a smile. “That’s Edith, the owner,” Arezu says with a small wave in her direction. “She offered to tutor me after Akari had helped out my Lady Lilligant, and I’ve been experimenting with different styles!” 

“Oh, I would love to see your different styles, but,” Elesa shakes some sand loose from her braid to prove a point, “I need a good wash first. Akari kind of dumped me in the sand.” Arezu gives a sympathetic look before having her sit down in the open chair.

“Let’s get your hair cleaned, girl.” It takes a moment, but Arezu finally finds the end of Elesa’s braid and undoes the tie on it to let her hair out entirely. “Oh wow, you know how to pack that in!”

“Years of practice,” Elesa says with a laugh as Arezu first takes a fine comb and brushes Elesa’s hair, getting some of the sand loose and straightening her hair after the night of sleep. Elesa lets herself relax during the process before speaking up. “So, did you work with hair before here, Arezu?”

Arezu undoes the last knot in Elesa’s hair before answering. “I did Adaman’s hair for awhile, worked on a few of the other Clan members, but being here has given me a lot of experience.” She puts some wet soap in Elesa’s hair and lathers, using her fingers to massage the scalp. “Adaman even started dyeing his hair about a year or so ago, which has given me practice on bleaching and dyeing. Edith was glad to hear that.”

“Dyeing hair can be such an annoyance, especially with long hair like mine,” Elesa says, moving her head back to give Arezu more ease at washing her hair. “It’s been a few years since I dyed it completely blonde, and that was a hassle.”

“You dyed your entire hair?” Arezu asks in shock as she begins to rinse the hair out. “Either you’ve grown it out a lot since then, or you have more patience than I ever could.” Having finished rinsing the soap out, she begins to pat Elesa’s hair dry. “I hope he doesn’t think to dye his whole hair green, it would look hideous.”

“It really depends on the color of green you go with,” Elesa says as she straightens back up. “But green also doesn’t go well with most skin tones, so it’s best as an accent.” She hears Aresu laugh as she begins to brush out Elesa’s hair, this time with a coarse bristle brush.

“Yeah, he’s lucky he got what he did,” Aresu says with a giggle in her voice, “because I didn’t think green would look good on him. But he used only enough to work it.” She finishes brushing Elesa’s hair out, then grabs Elesa’s hair ties. “So, do you want this back in the same braids you had?”

Elesa looks over her shoulder at her hair before shaking her head. “Nah, it usually takes three hands, and I’d have to walk you or Edith through it.” She reaches out for her hair ties, and pulls her hair back into a single long ponytail, then brings it back up and ties it again so that it isn’t dragging on the ground. “I’ll probably get it cut soon, it is way too much to deal with right now. Plus, it’ll let me think of something fun to make you do!”

Arezu shoots her a sly grin before responding. “Oh, Elesa, you are a godsend. I can’t wait to see what you come up with!” The two leave the salon to the scene of Purugly crushed under the weight of 6 Sneasels, with Sneasler leaning against the salon, eating a pod of beans like a carrot.

Poor Arezu runs towards her big cat, scattering the juvenile weasels towards Elesa and Sneasler, the former of whom actually feels bad. “Do you need anything, or should I just take them away?” Sneasler wasn’t gonna wait for her, she was already leading the kids away like it was a trip to the park, but Arezu waved Elesa on as her Purugly woke back up with a yowl. Elesa decided to pick up the pace.

It wasn’t a long walk to the Training Grounds, but the Sneasels were starting to get on her nerves with how they were acting. They kept kicking at her legs, they kept trying to climb her, they were running off and she had to stop them. Their mom was right there, and she was doing nothing to stop them.. And as much as Elesa tried to outspeed them, the hellions just took it as a challenge and kept up, sprinting in some cases.

And thus did Elesa arrive at the Training Grounds, with an entourage of trouble making Sneasel cheering as they chased her. Zisu was having trouble holding in her laughter as she saw the small parade before waving her over. “Elesa, was it? We didn’t get properly introduced yesterday, since you and Ingo were focused on your chat.” That was an understatement. “My name is Zisu, and I’m in charge of the Security Corps for the Galaxy Team!”

Elesa extends her hand in greeting. “I’m Elesa, as you knOW!” Before she could even try to shake Zisu’s hand, one of the Sneasels had come up and kicked her full force in the shin. Ok, this was enough.

Turning on the offending Sneasel, Elesa let loose. “You do not hit people!” She knew she wasn’t able to project nearly as loudly as Ingo, but she still managed to get loud enough to startle the Sneasel. “I don’t care if you’re a kid, you’re still a Pokemon! Pokemon don’t fight people, they fight Pokemon!” She glances momentarily at Sneasler, who is watching her closely, but also letting her go off on her kid. Time to take a chance. “If you really want to fight something,” she presses the button on one of her Pokeballs, and her Luxray, Sheds, appears behind her, silently stalking around her and keeping eye contact with the Sneasel, “then I can arrange a fight.”

“Snearrr…” And there was the momma’s warning, though it seemed her stare was directed at Luxray rather than Elesa. “Sne!” Sneasler called her kids to her, and started scolding them quietly, allowing Elesa to turn around and focus back on Zisu.

“I am so sorry about that, Zisu.”

Zisu laughs out loud, having obviously been holding it back through the display. “Oh, there is absolutely no reason to be sorry, Elesa! Ingo has to deal with them all the time, and he’s never been so hard on any of them!” Elesa couldn’t see, but Sneasler nods to that, and then goes back to chiding her children. “He spoils those kids rotten sometimes, and here you are threatening them with a good time.”

Sheds takes this chance to plod up to Zisu and rub her head against her. It was a far cry from the intimidating presence that she had just shown, acting much more like a Shinx than the full sized Luxray that she is. “And isn’t she affectionate? A big ol’ cuddle bug, just like my Luxray.”

“Oh, so you have a Luxray, too?” Elesa says with some excitement, going to pet her giant cat with a smile. “Good to know at least one of my Pokemon is recognizable here!” Sheds basically melted into both of the strokes, content and purring. “So, before I forget because of her adorable demeanor, I was supposed to come talk to you about what I need to be doing with Security.”

Zisu gives Sheds a light kiss on the head before stepping back towards her post, and Elesa uses the chance to return her to the Pokeball. “There are several posts for Security. You could either be here for challengers, where you will be on call for whenever we have someone who wants to train. Ingo is in charge of that portion.” Elesa looks around, and notices that Ingo is nowhere to be seen. “There is also the in-town patrolling, which consists of going around, mostly at night, to ensure that Pokemon aren’t finding their way into Jubilife without permission. It’s probably the most boring.” Sounds like.

“The one that I think you would enjoy the most would be external work. That entails either guarding the entrances of the town from the outside, unlike Ress who mostly keeps a tally of who leaves and enters. The second being stationed at a base camp or along the route between them to ensure that our people outside of the Village are safe. The final part of that is going on expeditions with Supply Corp, Survey Corp, or Construction Corp members to ensure that they aren’t hurt.”

Elesa could see why that is appealing, being able to go around and see Hisui while working would be nice. Though it would keep her away from working the salon, which would be a major mood killer. “Would I be able to work multiple posts, or am I limited to one? I was also planning on working with Edith and Arezu at the salon as well, so being stationed for battle would be best, but…”

“Heading out to see Hisui sounds fun?” Arezu says with a knowing smile.

“Dragons, yes!” Elesa felt that if this were an anime that Emmet liked watching, her eyes would literally be sparkling. “Back home in Unova, kids often went on Journeys with their Pokemon once school let out, and would either challenge Gyms or just explore! It’d not only be so great to see what Hisui is like so I have things to talk about with Ingo, but it’d be so nostalgic to be on a Journey again, even if it’s constrained.” Elesa rarely got this excited, but finding Ingo filled her with so much energy, it was hard to contain.

Zisu takes it in stride, giving her a wide smile. “I’d be happy to accommodate that! When you’re on duty for the Training Grounds, you’re going to be going a good amount of the day without a battle, so you’ll have time to work with Arezu, though I’ll also just give you days to work on that.” She crosses her arms and looks Elesa up and down before nodding slightly. “Now, the first order of business is to do a battle to see how good you are. The Commander told me that you’re a Gym Leader, and that means you’ve got a lot of battle experience under your belt.”

“Indeed I do,” Elesa says with a bit of smugness. “I’ve kept the position of Electric-type Gym Leader for 12 years now.” She holds the smile as Zisu looks pleasantly surprised, though it drops slightly as the Security Captain furrows her eyebrows.

“So, you only use Electric types? That seems needlessly restrictive.” She wasn’t dismissive or mean spirited in saying it, but rather disappointed. And that makes it worse, somehow.

“It’s to show that any type can be powerful, and to provide a challenge for any trainer to overcome,” Elesa says in a calm tone. She was trying, and doing well, on keeping herself in check. No one insults her beauties and implies that they make her weak. “By showing that we can take down any team throw at us, we show that we are masters of the type.”

She was trying to hold the venom in her voice back, but some of it still peeked through given Zisu’s reaction of a battle ready grin. Her boss simply turns on her heel and walks over to the other side of the field. “Then let’s test your mastery, Elesa. I want to see how a master of Electric types can counter her weaknesses.”

Elesa herself turns on the balls of her feet and stalks her way to the edge of the field, noting the Sneasels were now being herded to the edge of the Training Grounds to be members of the audience by Sneasler. With a deep breath, she grabs Skitters’ Pokeball, and brushes her ponytail off her back as a matter of habit. She then whirled around, throwing her Pokeball.

“Go, Skitters!” “Go, Steelix!” 

Elesa knew that Zisu would lead with a Ground-type, and was glad it was one she knew how to counter. Skitters would easily outspeed it, even if its bulk meant it could take her out. “Skitters, use Acrobatics!”

“Steelix, Ice Fang, Strong Style!” There she goes. Skitters, the resourceful little Emolga she is, chews briefly on her Flying Gem to power up her Acrobatics, doubly so as the Gem breaks. The flying squirrel loops around Steelix before dealing a hard blow into Steelix, knocking it to the side but not dealing too much actual damage. Unlike the Ice Fang, which landed directly on Skitters’ midsection as she flew away with a nasty crunch. Elesa involuntarily flinched, knowing that poor Skitters was already out for the count.

‘Strong Style, hm?’

Recalling Skitters, Elesa grabs the next ball and tosses out Slim Shady, her Eelektross. “Alright, Slim, you’re up! Fire Punch!” Steelix, oddly, seemed to be reeling from the Ice Fang still, taking its time like it had used Giga Impact instead of a simple Ice Fang. The attack landed directly, pushing the Steelix back towards Zisu, where it finally recovered.

“Steelix, use High Horsepower!” Perfect. Zisu must not know this Pokemon, because as the Steelix whipped its tail out to launch its attack, Slim Shady floated and flipped up through the air to avoid it with ease and grace. She could see Zisu swear across the field, though not loud enough to hear it herself.

“Perfect, Slim! Now finish it off with a Fire Punch!” Slim didn’t even bother trying to land before rushing the Steelix, who was also surprised to see the attack miss like that, knocking it to the ground, out for the count.

Zisu calls Steelix back and calls out across the field. “Gotta say, I didn’t know you’d have two Flying types on your team to counter the Ground weakness! Guess I shouldn’t expect an easy victory, then!” She tosses out her next Pokeball, sending out an Infernape that beats its chest with one arm before falling into a fighting stance.

“Not a Flying-type, boss! It can Levitate!” Elesa calls back as both trainers call out their next attacks., with Elesa silently thanking Emmet for convincing her to switch Slim Shady’s Choice Band out for an Expert Belt.

“Slim, use Thunder Punch!” “Bulk Up, Infernape!”

The Infernape plants both feet on the ground and pulls both arms out to the side, screaming into the sky as its willpower focuses and its muscles briefly bulge outwards.

Slim Shady closes the distance in that time and slams his fin into Infernapes open chest, a crack of thunder filling the village.

[sublimecatgalaxy]

la vie en rose- Part 9 (of many)

-Pairing: Fezco (Euphoria) x reader

-Summary: Reader wins her diving meet, yay! Fez wants to celebrate ;)

-Warnings: Swearing, this one is definitely SMUTTY, I wouldn't say this one is 18+ just yet, BUT IT'S DEFINITELY MATURE.

Slowburn folks, you know how mean I am.

-Word Count:

-A/N: READ WARNINGS. No cliffhanger again in this one folks. JUST A FAIR WARNING THOUGH. Spicy. Not nearly as much as I'd like but I don't know where you guys stand with smutty shit. Y'all are probably devils in disguise for all I know.

Masterlist

Playlist Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

It took us a few months to get into the swing of things at Fez’s.

Sienna and I eventually decorated our room with the help of the boys, the room sorting itself out. We came over with a lot of stuff that day and the fact that we managed to find a spot for everything is shocking. But even Sienna, in her nervous glory, relaxed into things. She relaxed into her school schedule, she made friends with Ash, the two of them developing their own friendship in the midst of everything. But I did eventually have to fill her in on the job that Ash and Fez take part in. She wasn’t too shocked but now she could at least understand why her and I were quickly ushered out of the room and behind a locked door whenever someone came over at one in the morning.

Fez and I eventually figured things out, the temptations and anxiety around us fizzling out as we grew into our normal routine. It was comfortable and nice. But we still didn’t tell any of our friends how close we were, only that Sienna and I were living with him for the time being. Jules seems to be the one who doesn’t entirely believe me.

“Y/n, seriously, when was the last time you got fucked, like it’s not the 80s, you need to catch a dick.” Jules snorts as she shuts her locker, the noise scaring me and snapping me out of my thoughts. I roll my eyes at her as she pulls me down the crowded hallway, the end of school day bell making us giggle in excitement. “I’ll bug you about that later, are you excited for your meet?” She asks and my face flushes. Since the New Years has passed, along with Valentine's day, the swim/diving season is now in full swing for varsity girls.

Speaking of New Years, there was definitely something between my sister and her new found love of marijuana. And I didn’t totally lack a New Years kiss at midnight, it’s just not who I was expecting.

Looking around the room, Sienna cheers, jumping up and down as she grins at me. The ball finally dropped, the New Year starting as I grin at her. I can tell she’s relieved to be in this environment instead of any other, the joint between her fingers being passed between her and Ash with a blush. Moments pass, Ash and Fez sharing a manly hug, before Fez turns to me, pausing. Giving him a nervous grin, he leans over, gently pressing a kiss to my forehead as I chuckle warmly.

“You know what, Ash, get your ass over here!” I yell, pushing Fez away as he gasps, offended. He falls onto the couch as I grab his brother's arm. I share a knowing glance with Fez, his eyes trailing over my body as I pass him. Ash looks up at me nervous as I lean down, pressing the biggest kiss to his cheek as he squeals. His cheeks flush as I giggle, shoving him down next to his brother. “Happy New Year fuckers!”

Smiling at the memory, I grin, turning my attention back to Jules as she continues to smile proudly at me. “You and Lexi are both going to kill it.” She bumps her shoulder against mine, my stomach swirling in excitement at the thought of getting back in the water. “I’ll be there with Rue, front row.” She grins, taking my hand in hers as we walk towards the pool. I take a deep breath, stopping outside the doors as she smiles reassuringly at me, shoving me towards the door. “Go find Lexi, text me if you need me. I’ll see you in a minute!” She presses a light kiss to my cheek before rushing off in the other direction, her heels clicking against the tile. Working up the confidence to enter the locker room, my eyes immediately see Lexi in the corner, already in her teal suit. She grins widely when she sees me, her warm smile and wave inviting me over to her bench as I set out my stuff.

“Are you as nervous as I am? Cuz I’m freaking out.” She whispers, looking up at me as she holds her hair in a bun. “What dives are you doing anyways?” She questions and the conversation calms me down. As we share tips and tricks, along with our line up for the meet, I feel my anxiety slowly brush off my shoulders as she talks. Eventually slipping into my suit, the material actually managing to hug my hips in the right way, I hold my arms up in a ‘tada’ form as Lexi claps. Even as the hustle and bustle grows as the swimmers come and go, Lexi and I chat, eventually working up the courage to walk out into the pool room, our bags on our shoulders.

Looking out into the crowd, I immediately spot Rue and Jules in the front row, waving at us happily as we pass. I stop for a moment, sending Lexi on her way as she makes her way over to the bench. Jules approaches the divider, leaning over it to press a kiss to my forehead.

“Good luck.” She whispers and I grin, taking a deep breath as the nerves run through me. She pauses, turning back to Rue who sends me a wink. “Uh,” Jules starts, my eyebrows pulling together in confusion, “I forgot to mention, Fez is here, okay bye!” She cringes nervously, the news stopping me in my tracks as I look anxiously around the crowd.

And she wasn’t lying. Fez, Ash and my sister sit happily on the top bench of the bleachers. Smiles cover their faces as I spot them, shaking my head sheepishly. Great, now even more reason to be nervous. I watch as Jules sits back down in her seat as I make my way over to Lexi, my heart now pounding out of my chest as she glances at me.

“You okay?” She asks and I scoff, pointing up to the top of the bleachers as she giggles. Feeling her wrap an arm around my shoulder, her laughter diminishes as the swim races begin. I fold my legs up in front of me on the bench, turning to look at her. “You’re the best diver here. Fez and your sister being home won’t change that. I promise.” She whispers, her hand rubbing up and down my back as my phone buzzes. Pulling it out of my bag, swiping on the message, I grin.

Fez &lt;;3 You look hella cute.

I snort, as I look up into the bleachers, his fingers dancing in a simple wave. I send him a wink back, putting my phone away as I watch my team swim. Unable to keep my full attention on them, I sneak glances at Fez along with the judges. You never know what you’re going to get when it comes to judges. Whether they’re seasoned veterans or alumni, it all impacts how they vote. I just hear the tips in my head; straight arms and legs, chin tucked to chest, hair tight against my head, feet slapping against the water is always good. And don’t hurt yourself.

That’s always number one.

As the first half of the swimming portion comes to an end, my eyes flicker up to my sister who grins like a mad woman at me. I send her a kiss, standing up as Lexi pats me on the back. Next I see Ash who claps loudly as I approach the board, my name being cheered by the boy. Fez is relaxed, his knees spread as he leans against the cool brick wall, a small smile on his lips. Closing my eyes as they announce my stunt and my name, I step up onto the board doing a quick stretch, I adjust the board as I smile to myself.

My favorite part about diving is how quiet it gets as the crowd waits for me to do my trick. Stepping up to the edge of the board, my arms stretched out above me, my toes rest on the end of the board as I bounce slowly. I always make the first dive my favorite dive. Especially because it’s easy and it’s terrifying to the audience. As I jump, snapping in half as I hug my knees, I do a perfect one and a half somersault, my feet hitting first, creating the most perfect slap. I hear the crowd cheer as I approach the water's surface, my hands quickly finding the side of the pool as I wait for the judges.

Hearing a score of nine is like music to my ears. I grin loudly, Lexi helping me out of the pool as I jump up and down in her arms. She giggles like crazy, pulling me over to the side as I dry off briefly. As the girl from the other school goes, doing a simple one and a half front dive, she receives a six and a half. I’m not cocky but… I’m cocky.

Eight dives come and go, all ranging from a seven and a half to a nine and a half, personally above my average. The girl from the other school averages around the same, just twenty points behind me with our last dive left. Biting my lip as she dives, receiving a perfect score of ten, I shit myself internally. Fuck.

I know that either way, if I bomb the next dive or get a perfect score, I’ll win. But the point is a record that I’ve developed over the years and I don’t like when people get close to my score. Call me a bitch, I like to win. I like to be hundreds of points ahead of them. But this time I don’t think it’s my fault, I think the other girl is just that good.

Stepping up to the board, I gulp visibly at the next dive. Catching Lexi’s gaze, she gives me a reassuring nod, her fists under her chin as she waits. It’s the hardest dive that I typically don’t use at meets, but the coach recommended that I pull out all the stops for the sake of our statistics as a diving team. So I agreed. Take one for the team, right?

So I stand on the edge of the board, closing my eyes to calm my heartbeat as the crowd quiets. Bouncing up and down a few times, gaining enough momentum, I hoist myself into the air and I can already tell and feel that I have it in the bag. The somersaults are flawless, and the twist seemingly happens on its own without me forcing it. When I land in the water, I hear Lexi cheer along with my coach.

And, man, could I not get to the surface fast enough.

Lexi and the coach hug each other as my eyes fly to the coaches table, a ‘10’ written on all of their boards. “Holy- Oh my god! You’re joking!” I yell out, quickly swimming as fast as possible over to the side of the pool as the coach pulls me out of the water and into her arms. Water drips off of me but she doesn’t seem to care as she whispers words of encouragement and excitement. I jump up and down, my head spinning as the news floors me. “That’s the highest I’ve ever gotten on that dive!” I scream, stepping back to look at the coach, the proud grin on her face making me cheer once more. She nods, cupping my hands in her face as Lexi approaches us, her arms wrapping around my waist as we squeal.

The room eventually switches, swimming beginning again as Lexi and I make our way into the locker room to get changed. Divers were technically free to go after the diver segment, no reason to wait around since we don’t do anything after home meets and we don’t swim a cool down lap with the swimmers.

“Holy shit, dude. That was insane out there.” Lexi huffs, laying down on the bench as I lean against the lockers, the coolness of the metal grounding me. “You got a fucking ten!” She yells, hitting me with her towel as I giggle, covering my face with my hands. “I wonder what Fez thought.” She sits up, her eyes wide as I realize that he witnessed that. Setting my bag down, I shuffle through it looking for my phone. When I finally put my eyes on it, I can see the four missed texts from the man of the hour. Giggling, I sit down next to Lexi as I open my phone.

Fez &lt;;3 You’re the only girl I know who can make me hard while brutally smacking her face on the water during warm ups.

Mkay, that first one scared the shit outta me.

I didn’t know you could bend like that.

Your sis is shook. I have zero clue what’s going on. Jus that you look good while doing it.

I giggle loudly, reading over the text a few times before sending a text to my sister, telling her to meet me out in the hallway. I throw my head back in happiness, shoving my phone back into my bag. That man. I quickly get my black towel material dress out of my bag, placing it onto the bench as Lexi and I quickly get out of our freezing suits.

We do our normal routine, wiping the salt water off of us as we both put our respected beauty products and perfume on. That was one thing that we both agreed on, we hated smelling like the pool. Slipping into the dress, it barely falls on my thighs, my cheeks warming at the sight. What was Fez going to think of it?

“Shit, I forgot a bra.” I hug my chest in realization, looking through my bag as Lexi braids her hair with a laugh. Huffing, giving up, I sit on the bench as Lexi finishes her braid. Lexi stands quickly, making her way behind me, her fingers sectioning parts of my hair as she braids it. “Lexi, I gotta go! Don’t braid my hair.” I giggle, standing up as she continues to fiddle with my hair. Sliding on my slides, I walk away from the lockers, Lexi following me closely as she continues to braid my hair. Tears fill my eyes from the laughter as her fingers work on my hair, all the way into the hallway. Watching as my friends and family approach us, I giggle.

“Get on your knees!” Lexi orders, shoving me to the tile as I look up at Ash and my sister with an eye roll. “Let me finish.” She huffs, her fingers working magic on my thick and knotted hair. When Fez approaches us, his eyes are wide and naughty as he looks at the position I'm in. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip, shifting in his spot as he adjusts himself not so subtly. My cheeks heat up for a moment, watching as he turns away from the group for a moment, obviously flustered. I look down realizing my boobs are, quite frankly, pushed up as far as they can go, the gold chain that Fez got me resting gracefully against my skin. Making it even better, my hands rest prettily on my thighs. When he looks back at me, his pupils are blown and I smirk. My bottom lip tugs between my lips as he shakes his head at me with a laugh. He knows me by now. Looking at my sister and not Fez’s curious gaze, she high fives me.

“You killed that other girl, sis. She was crying when she left!” Sienna cheers, clapping her hands as she celebrates my victory. “You’re so cool. Even Ash was like ‘oh my god’ the whole time, right Ash?” She looks at the boy by her side who grins at her, nodding his head, impressed.

“It was hella cool. I’ll come whenever you’ve got these things going on.” Ash chuckles sheepishly as Lexi pulls me up to my feet, her arm wrapping around my shoulder. I look at her, my hand reaching back to touch the two braids that make their way down my scalp.

“Thanks bubs.” I smile at her, her grin not faulting as she looks down at her phone. “Text me, okay?” I ask as she backs away, well aware she has to leave before her mom flips.

“Love you, you killed it!” She yells, blowing me a kiss as she skips down the hallway chanting my name. I giggle, my face heating up as I set my bag down on the floor next to me.

“I wanna wait for Rue and Jules and then we can go.” I grin, saying it more to Fez than anyone else. He nods, still yet to say anything to me yet. I can tell he’s nervous, his opinion of me must be changing in that pretty head of his. In a good way I hope. Maybe he’s intimidated by me? Not even moments later, Rue and Jules come bursting through the door, Rue trailing behind as Jules rushes up to me. I grin, pushing past my sister jog towards the tall, happy girl. She wraps her arms around my waist, hoisting me into her arms, my legs quickly wrapping around her waist. We both giggle loudly as she spins me around, tumbling to the ground gracefully but quickly. Our backs hit the ground breathlessly as Rue stands over us, her little snorts making me grin.

“You’re fucking fantastic!” Jules gasps, reaching over to slap my boobs. I feign offense, rolling my eyes at her as I reach over smacking her back. “No literally, you and Lexi are like these goddesses sent to make our minds naughty, girl.” I look up to Rue who holds her hand out to me, helping me off the ground as she pats my back proudly. “You’re so hot! Who knew you were that bendy!” Jules giggles, her eyes squinting as she compliments me. I grin, covering my cheeks with my hands as they heat up. Rue nods along, obviously agreeing with the statement. “Damn, wow.” Jules huffs, placing her hands on her hips as she grins. “Okay, so, Rue and I have to go, but I will be texting you all night.” She promises, shoving me playfully as I take it. Rue wraps an arm around the both of us, walking down the hallway towards my family. Feeling a hand slap my ass, I squeal, jumping away from them.

“Stop slapping my ass, you perv!” I giggle, pointing at Jules as she shrugs playfully. I turn to my sister, wrapping my arms around her as I rest my chin against the top of her head. Rue and Fez share a quick hug as Jules pulls her down the hallway. “Bye babies!” I yell as they send me waves as they leave the hallway. Laughing as the excitement dies down, I turn to Fez who looks at me happily. “We ready?” I ask, looking to Ash who looks at Fez for help. Confused by the silence, I look down at Sienna who grins.

“Fez wants to drive you somewhere. Ash and I are getting a ride.” She responds simply and I look up at Fez whose eyes are on the ground. Floored, I look from Fez, to Ash then back to my sister as no one gives me further explanation. “Good luck. Come on, Ash.” She winks at me before grabbing Ash’s hand, pulling him down the hallway. The nerves in my stomach growing, I turn back to Fez who has taken a few steps closer to me. My eyebrows raise as I look at him, his silence unsettling.

“Come on.” He whispers, motioning towards the door as I follow in his stride. He walks quickly as he fiddles with the lanyard on his keys. Butterflies swim in my stomach as he holds the door open for me, my head ducking under his arm as I make my way into the cool spring air. My slides smack against the concrete as I follow the man in front of me, wondering where we’re going and why.

When we arrive at the car, he opens my door politely for me, letting me sit down slowly as I place my bag at my feet. When he closes the door, I think back to the last day and a half, wondering if I upset him or something. His texts less than an hour ago seemed fine. As he enters the car, he sits down, huffing as he hesitates to start the car. My mind spinning, I decide to finally speak up.

“Did I do something wrong?” I croak out, the words not coming out as clear and confident as I’d like them to. Catching his attention as his head whips to look at me, he laughs. Realization slaps him across the face as he shakes his head, turning in his seat to reach across the middle console. Taking my hand in his, he grins.

“Sorry, angel.” He whispers bashfully, the nickname making my thighs squeeze together. “I, uh, knew if I said something in there then I’d lose my cool. Trust me, we’re cool.” He spins in his seat again, turning the car on as I heat up. Slipping my slides off, I tuck my knees to my chest, looking over at Fez with a dopey smile.

“What could you have not said in there, hmm?” I ask, watching him as he pulls out of the parking space, a small laugh escaping his lips as he drives away from the school. “Was it something like what you texted me cuz, Jesus Fez, I was next to Lexi.” I snort, my cheeks heating up as he rolls his eyes, his head hitting the headrest. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m flattered that my pain brings you pleasure. That really hurt my face!” I giggle, reaching over to slap his thigh. The street lights illuminating his smile as we drive down the dim road, his fingers gripping the steering wheel tightly.

“You gotta give me a bit to be honest about all that shit.” He chuckles sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck at my accusations. “Verbally at least. Sayin’ shit out loud is hard for me.” He admits with a grin, stealing a glance at me as I choke out a laugh.

“Not the only thing hard for you.” I cackle, covering my mouth with my hand as he gawks at me. His jaw is dropped, his eyes having a difficult time focusing on the road as I snicker. “You set me up perfectly to make that joke, I couldn’t not say that, you should know this by now!” I explain, sitting up in the seat, picking at the edge of my dress. Our laughter and shock calms down as he pulls onto an entry ramp for the highway. Peering out the window as LA fades in the background, I’m not full of questions. “You’re not gonna like, drive me into the middle of nowhere to kill me right?” I ask as he chuckles lowly, shaking his head.

“You’re trippin’.” He grins. “Nah, you’re good. Though we aren’t exactly following the rules of ‘not bein’ alone together’.” He motions between us and I snort, folding my legs under me as I play with the chain around my neck. “You’re not exactly making it easy on me.” He glances over at me, his eyes trained on my open thighs as he clears his throat. I’m nothing but tempting. “Just relax. It’ll be a while.” He changes the subject, now referring to our drive ahead of us.

Slowly the city faded behind us, the country now spreading out across the earth. I look out the window with a grin, my eyes sleepy as we continue to drive. I’m still unsure of where we’re going in the first place, but Fez assures me that it’ll be worth it in the end. We’ve been driving already for a few hours, midnight coming and going and ‘goodnights’ from my sister and my friends coming and going.

The window rolled down, my hand sticking out into the cold air, I smile as I sing along to the song blasting throughout the car. Fez grins at me, my heart pounding as he speeds down the interstate. No traffic at this time of night, no sir, so it’s just the two of us, speeding and singing happily. Not a care in the world, my win behind me and now alone time with the man that I’m crazy about. Who I’m not allowed to touch and who’s not allowed to touch me. Ugh.

Ignoring my thoughts, I watch as a big sign approaches us to the right. Welcome to Nevada. I read the sign outloud, turning to Fez who smiles smugly. My eyebrows pull together as I roll up my window, suddenly suspicious.

“Please tell me you’re not taking me to Vegas cuz I’ll die there. I’m not nearly baller enough, sweetheart. It’s nice that you think I am.” I giggle as he snorts, his head shaking. Okay so not Vegas. As we drive past the sign, the car slows considerably, making me even more confused. In the middle of nowhere and why? Fez slowly maneuvers the car off the road, the only light in the car coming from the dim light on the dash. “Okay, what?” I giggle nervously, taking my seatbelt off as he shrugs. “Tell me.” I plead, reaching over to slap his chest playfully.

“We’re in Nevada.” He replies simply as if it would make a lightbulb go off above my head but I’m still just as confused as before. I watch as he pulls a joint out from his pocket, silently lighting it as I impatiently huff.

“I’m not following here, love, you gotta give me something else.” I giggle, crossing my arms over my chest as he gazes at me softly.

“You know the term, ‘what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas’?” He asks simply, taking a hit off of his joint before simply handing it over to me. I nod, graciously taking it from him as I lift it to my lips. “Well, we’re close enough to Vegas.” He snorts as I choke on the copious amounts of smoke that I just inhaled. Coughing, I try to recover but it just doesn’t happen easily. Chuckling at me, Fex reaches over to rub my back as my mind spins at his words. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. Regaining my sense of speech and breathing, I look at him with wide eyes as he smirks.

“You drove me nearly four hours to make out and dirty talk me?” I ask through a gasp, my throat burning at the air rushing through it. He snorts but nods at my statement realizing it’s completely accurate. “Oh my god.” I giggle, covering my face as he watches me. “You know, you’re so much more smooth than people give you credit for. That’s like stupid romantic dude.” I chuckle, trying to get the topic on anything else but how nervous I am. Reaching over, he takes my hand in his, pressing a kiss to my knuckles.

“You don’t gotta be nervous. Not with me.” He shrugs simply, my heart warming at his kind words. I send him a nervous smile, looking out the window at the dark expanse that’s in front of us. “We don’t gotta do anything you don’t wanna.” He reassures, the grin on my face growing even more as I look back to him, mischief gleaming in my eyes. Smirking, I swing my leg over the middle console, sliding down onto his lap carefully as he eyes me.

“Consent is sexy, Fez.” I whisper, settling on his lap, my hands gently rest on his shoulders. His hands hover just above my thighs, his eyes wide at my words. He seems hesitant, almost as if he has to explain to himself that it’s allowed.

“You looked pretty on your knees back at the school.” He mutters, his hands finally resting on the tops of my thighs and I hiss, getting used to the coolness of his rings on my hot skin. “This dress is… wow, shit.” He looks up at me, his pupils blown as I gently massage his shoulders. “Com’ere.” He grabs me by the elbow, gently pulling me down to wrap his arms around me gently. Taken back by his gentleness, I wrap my arms around his neck happily, taking a deep breath as he rubs over my back.

“You make me so nervous.” I whisper, my lips brushing against his neck as he hums. His hands migrate south, his hands now resting on my tailbone as I sigh quietly, pulling back to look at him. Our chests are pressed tightly together in the close confines of the car, his chest rising and falling slowly. “And seeing those messages after I went into the locker room, god…” I trail off, my head craning back as I stare out the sunroof. “Seems like you can’t handle seeing me in a bathing suit.” I giggle, looking down at him as he nods, his eyebrows raised playfully. His hands move from my back, around my waist to rest on my hips, his grip tighter than before.

“You just always look so fine.” He whispers, his head tilting. Breath getting caught in my throat, I gasp as he sits up straighter. “I say we give it till your 19th.” He offers sudden, my head not connecting the dots. We can be together once I’m 19? “And for now I can finally tell you all the stuff I wanna do to you once I can.” My thighs clench subconsciously, Fez’s eyes flicker down to the limbs that trap him. His fingers dance down from my hips to my thighs once more, his fingers dancing under the material of my dress.

“Yeah, what’re you trying to do?” I ask quietly and teasingly as he leans forward, his nose gently bumping with mine as he messages the inside of my thighs with his thumbs. Brushing against the stretch marks on the sensitive skin, my hips stutter.

“I’m tryna blow your back out.” He whispers, his eyes shining in the dim light. Watching as his neck cranes to gently capture my lips in a heated but soft kiss, my eyes flutter shut. I gently reach up, my hands cupping his cheeks as his hands sneak under my dress, bunching it up as his hands water to my ass. Moaning softly as our lips part, he pulls me even closer against him. Gently running my blunt nails down his scalp, he lets out a loud groan, his head hitting the head rest with a thump as he pulls away from my lips. He looks absolutely fucked. “Fuck.” He whispers, his eyes fluttering shut as I repeat my actions, gently scratching his head as my lips dip down below his jaw. Taking every opportunity to press my lips against the softness of his neck, he moans quietly, his hands gripping my ass tightly. “You got zero clue what you do to me.” He whispers, but I can feel what I do to him. Leaning back with a proud smirk, I grin down at him. His lips are parted, soft pants coming from them as he gazes.

“I have an idea.” I whisper, my voice even more breathless than his. We sit there for a moment, staring at each other as silence wraps around us. “So, are you just gonna sit there or are you going to do something?” I ask innocently, my hands dragging down his chest to rest on his belt. He kisses the back of his teeth, a cocky grin on his lips.

“You’ve got quite the mouth on you, hmm?” He asks, his hands slipping up my back, his fingertips on my bare skin making me shiver. Trying my best to keep up my unbothered gaze, his eyes widen at the lack of a bra as he travels up further. My jaw slacks at his words, my mouth drying out as my heart beat picks up. “You act like you’re not just falling apart in that little head of yours.” He grins, his eyes shutting as he peppers kisses against my jaw.

“You act like you’re not thinking of me in every position imaginable.” I whisper breathlessly as he gently skims his lips down my neck, my thighs clenching once more around nothing. “Unlike you, I can hide my attraction pretty easily.” I grin at my jab, feeling his hips jump underneath me. He chuckles quietly, one of his hands moving out from under my dress, to reach up to cup my cheek. He grabs my chin, angling my head to look down at him as he shakes his head playfully.

“Where did all those manners go, huh?” He asks sheepishly, his eyes slightly embarrassed at his problem down south. “You’re giving me a run for my money.” He chuckles, both of our grins big and happy, like there isn’t a care in the world.

“Good. I gotta charge you something for me acting this way.” I giggle, cupping his cheeks gently, my thumbs brushing over his freckled cheeks. He rolls his eyes playfully as he presses a kiss to the inside of my wrist.

“You trippin if you think I’m gonna pay for what’s mine.” Playfully slapping my ass, I take a deep breath in order not to just fall apart then and there. Noticing my change in attitude, he messages gently over the spot that he just hit, his eyes gleaming mischievously. Biting my bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, I gently grind my hips down onto his as his eyes widen. “Hmm, you liked that?” He asks, referring to the simple spank, his smile growing even more cocky.

“I can go from fancy to filthy in the smack of an ass.” I giggle, nervously tucking my face in the crook of his neck as he laughs loudly, his hands now returning to my covered back, rocking me gently back and forth. “You’ll learn all the ins and outs eventually.” I whisper quietly, my tone still flirty, but my eyes heavy. “It’s nice to be able to touch you.” I whisper, my hands running up and down his chest softly. He hums in agreement, his lips pressing against the side of my head as we sway to the music.

“It’s nice to be able to tell you exactly what I’m thinkin’.” He responds simply, his chin resting on my shoulder as my eyes flutter shut. At this point, my heart is so full of love that it might burst. I know that’s cheesy but sitting here, with him, I don’t care about anything else in the world. “I can’t wait to have you in my bed, waking up to you.” He confesses, my heart warming and my mind spinning. “Be able to take you out, spoil you shitless.” I chuckle quietly, my hands finding their way under his shirt, dancing along the plates of his abdomen. “And you know, the other shit. ” He chuckles sheepishly as I lift my hands to his chest. I pull away from his shoulder, feeling his heartbeat pound under my hands as he gazes up at me. “If I’m being honest, you’re kinda everything that I want in life.” He whispers, his nervous eyes avoiding mine as his fingers dance up my forearms, leaving goosebumps in their wake. My heart stops at his romantic words, my hands coming out from under his shirt to rest on his jaw. His nervous eyes find mine again, a bashful smile on his lips as I lean down to press mine against his. He responds immediately, his smile present in the kiss as I sigh.

It’s as if I’ve kissed him all my life. We’re just used to each other by now even though we’ve only shared a handful of kisses over the period of our relationship. The comfort that he offers me as his hands rest on my back, the way his head tilts the deepen the kiss, our noses bumping, the way his lips feel so unbelievably soft and gentle against mine. His grip tightens on me as I pull back, my forehead resting against his as we both catch our breath. Moments go by, his eyes searching mine as I smile softly and nervously at him.

“I’d die for you.” He whispers, his eyes wide and honest as I blush. His lips trail down my cheek to my jaw, and down my neck. He holds my cheek in his hand, like putty in his lap. My neck goes slack as I moan softly, feeling his fingers gently take the hair tie out of my hair. Pulling the braid out as he threads his fingers into my still damp hair, I sigh. “I’d kill for you.” He groans, his fingers gently pulling on my hair as I moan. “You know I’d do anythin’ for you, woman.” Grinning, I look down at him, his hand trailing from my hair, his fingers gently stretching across the span of my throat. Pulling me to him, my head spins. He presses a kiss to my cheek gently, the contrast between his rough hand and his gentle kisses driving me crazy. “You’re so damn pretty and you’re so smart, angel.” I grin, gazing at him as his hand leaves my throat, dancing over the column between my breasts. “And you way naughtier than I thought.” He snorts, my head tossed back in laughter as he presses kisses to the column of my throat.

“You’re so good with words.” I whisper, my heart fluttering in my chest. “You’ve really got me speechless over here. Gimme a minute.” I giggle, watching as he pulls away from me, giving me a second to catch my breath.

“Sorry baby.” He whispers, his hands soothing over my thighs gently and slowly. Taking a deep breath, he mirrors me, grinning wildly as his hands dance over my body. Even that in itself is so distracting, my mind going a million miles an hour as I think of what else he could throw at me.

“Sorry, I needed to regroup.” My eyes flutter shut as I regain my composure, Fez watching me intently. “I wish we could just stay here.” I mutter, looking around the cozy car as he nods along with me. “I never wanna go back.” Wrapping my arms around his waist, I tuck my head into his chest as he chuckles softly. “I just wanna talk and kiss until our lips are bruised and we run out of things to talk about.” I admit quietly, watching as Fez’s cheeks heat up at the look of me.

“Yeah, whaddya wanna talk about?” He asks, his thumb rubbing the inside of my thigh as I continue to smile at him. “Wanna talk about how you wanna fuck me or how you want my last name?” I giggle, my forehead landing on his collarbone as he chuckles heartily.

“Both.” I chuckle, feeling as Fez scoots to the edge of the seat, my legs wrapping around his waist as I grin. He reclines the seat back a bit, the silence comfortable around us as I snuggle into his chest. “My big bad drug dealer.” I giggle, my fingers drawing circles on his chest through his shirt. Sliding down next to him on the seat, I throw a leg over him which he immediately has his hand on. He rubs up and down gently, from my knee to the edge of my dress. I tilt my head up, gazing up at him with heart eyes.

“Damn right I’m yours.” He whispers, leaning down to peck my lips lovingly. I grin at the words, my heart swelling as I let out a little squeal. “No one but yours.” He cups my cheek gently, his thumb brushing against my cheekbone as his other hand travels up my thigh and under my dress.

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A/n: Heehee. I was sweating while re-reading this lol.

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[inkedtae]

ii. rotten angelcake ⇾ kth. [M]

chapter two : research and development ⤑ taehyung never plays around when it comes to business. he just loves playing with you.

⇽ prev. | masterlist | next ⇾

⌁ pairing; ceo!taehyung x curvy!reader (f.)

⌁ genre/rating; s2l, ceo au, sugar daddy au, smut, fluff, 18+

⌁ word count; 6.6k

⌁ warnings; mullet!taehyung (yes, bestie this is a fucking warning), dom!taehyung, daddy!taehyung, ass enthusiast!taehyung, sub!reader, brat!reader, virgin!reader, mentions of exhibitionism, mentions of voyeurism, semi-public sex, work sex, dirty talk, jealousy, hand kink, praise kink, daddy kink, corruption kink, a little bit of degradation, teasing, biting, begging, clit rubbing, fingering (with a ring), finger sucking, cum tasting, squirting, lots of sexual tension, 

⌁ le playlist

ও a hundred thanks to cam ( @sunshinejunghoseokie ) for the pretty, pretty banner!! and a giant thank you to eva ( @nottodayjjk ) for betaing this so amazingly and quickly and loving daddy tae as much as i do and to my babe sammy ( @chateautae ) for not only betaing but listening to me gush about this sinful man and his series for hours. 

The Geraldson Group’s Research and Development department is a joke -  at least, the work you do there is. When you were offered the job, you thought it would be more than fetching coffee and making copies. Of course, you were expecting petty errands to be included in your job description, you just didn’t think it would begin and end there. 

You lean against the table and watch coffee drip into the pot as it brews. Lucas stands beside you, arms crossed and face just as blank as yours. The scent overtakes your numb mind, charging it with idle energy. In both your majors, research was the foundation of every project and paper. You spent four years working towards a job like this and all your hard work is squandered over coffee. 

“Oh, look,” Lucas unenthusiastically says, “two drops fell at once.” 

“I’ll alert the media.”

Silence falls again. 

Just one year. All you have to do is stick it out for one year. That is a sufficient amount of “experience” needed for any other company to consider your application. That’s also when your contract ends but you try not to think too much about that, knowing the damned thing robbed you of good pay and benefits. It doesn’t matter as much to you since Mrs. Chu has happily spotted your bills more than once and Taehyung showers you with more than you need. 

Lucas, on the other hand, is struggling. You’ve caught him sneaking coffee and toilet paper too many times to count, even helped him do it. He tells you that he just likes the thrill of thievery but you both know he’s skimping to get by. Most of his money goes towards his bills. Or, at least, you presume so. He’s been alternating between two suits since you met him a month ago during the interview. 

“Branching out,” he told you with a smile when you asked him if he was interested in finance.  Apparently his family owns an empire of newspapers and have been prepping him to take over. Walking out from them meant walking out of their fortune and a trust fund. He swore himself off them, hoping to prove them wrong.

“I mean my uncle got me this interview but after that, I’m done with them all,” he said before his name was called. 

“What are you two doing?” 

You’re pulled out of your thoughts, blinking at the coffee machine to find the pot missing. Jackson, in charge of new hires amongst other things, holds it as he pours himself a cup. He scowls between you and Lucas. 

“Didn’t Marina ask for coffee like ten minutes ago?”

You watch as he pours almost half of the pot into that huge cup of his. “She’s probably gonna have to wait ten more if everyone consumes as much as you do,” you joke only to earn a glare. 

Lucas laughs, taking the pot from Jackson and fixing Marina her usual. Jackson glares at him too. “Seriously, she’s in a terrible mood.”

“I’ll alert the media,” Lucas smiles, looking over his shoulder at you for confirmation on whether he landed the joke as well as you did. 

You give him a little nod as Jackson spirals into another lecture about how we all need to be on our best behaviour. “She said Mr. Geraldson and some new investors are coming in to look at the new project.” 

“Which one?” 

Jackson clenches his fist to keep from smacking Lucas upside the head. That’s… new. He usually doesn’t care for the human resources policy against “gentle violence.”

“Do you work here at all?” He asks, “Have you not sat in enough meetings to know what the fuck I’m talking about?”

He doesn’t care much for the profanity policy either. 

You furrow your brows. When has Lucas been able to sit in on meetings? You’re barely allowed within two feet of the boardroom after preparing it. Marina hates it when you hover, despite doing it herself the moment she gives you a legitimate task, like alphabetically organizing the sources or placing an order for office supplies. Lucas is a great friend and relatively smart but needs so much help navigating Bangtan software, which is transparently easy. 

Besides Lucas’s participation in those meetings, why the hell is Mr. Geraldson coming today? His presence is not expected for another month at the very least. The business magazine project has not even passed its research stage. The projections for budgeting alone are still a terrible work in progress that the accounting department has yet to process.

“The magazine pitch is not due for another month,” you say, hoping to take some of the heat off Lucas. “Why-”

“Investors are eager to take a look at our operations, apparently. Geraldson got this new investor too and no one knows who it is,” he pauses to take a sip of his coffee. “I think Marina does though. The moment she got off the phone with Leslie, she shouted at Ethan to take over supervising the research and rushed - oh, there she is!”

Marina hurries between desks, five inch heels click-clacking her urgency. They’re red. She has red lips too. She never wears red. Her hair is in huge curls, down and flowing over her tight white dress. Pearls sit pretty on her collarbone. It looks perfect for a business party, one of which is not happening right now. 

You raise a brow before exchanging a look with the guys. She rushed home to change. 

“Alright,” Lucas says with an eager smile. “Place your bets.”

“That’s a bit mean,” you buffer, though a smile plays on your lips too. 

Jackson stares at her for a moment before saying, “Twenty dollars on a boyfriend.”

“Double on Geraldson.”

You and Jackson share a confused look. “Lucas, Geraldson is married,” you chuckle. 

He shrugs, taking a sip from the coffee originally intended for Marina. 

“Bo-peep!” She shouts at you. 

God, you hate that fucking name. On your first day, you dressed in all white, a little ribbon holding your hair up in a ponytail. Marina drew everyone’s attention to you, asking you if that’s what you were after then congratulating you on it. You apologized, for really no good reason, but that act spurred on the nickname. You only wear black now. Lesson learned and has yet to be lived down. 

You stand straighter as she marches into the kitchen. “Ten copies of this,” she smacks a binder clipped rundown of the project on the table. “Ten coffees and don’t forget water for the table this time.” She turns to leave before you can utter a word.

Jackson and Lucas toss you a pointed look. You rethink your statement on the morality of betting on reasons why she suddenly dressed up. “All or nothing on an ex.”

You pick up the stack of papers as they share a satisfied smile, Lucas downing Marina’s coffee. He promises to make her another and that he’ll help you out with the coffees since he’s already there. You remind him not to forget the water since that was his task last time. Jackson is in the middle of expressing how stupid Lucas is for drinking the coffee in the first place since Marina is already on edge when Ethan rushes in. 

“Geraldson is here,” he announces in a panic. “You’ll never believe who’s with him!”

All three of you stand straighter as you wait for the answer. Through a disbelieved sigh, he exclaims, “Kim Taehyung!”

You must have misheard him. Maybe Ethan misheard it himself. All morning you’ve been texting Taehyung. He posted two doormen at your lobby, ones armed with more than just kind remarks to those who enter and exit. You’ve been arguing with him about whether or not you live in a safe enough neighbourhood all the way to work and then he asked you what you had planned for the day. He had ample time to tell you he was coming. It probably wouldn’t have changed much, but at least you would have been more willing to put up with Marina and her attitude.

Questions erupt from your co-workers and you realize, following them into the office, that the same excitement Ethan carries buzzes over everyone else. They rush to get into their places and look busy as Mr. Geraldson enters. Three men are behind him, the last being Taehyung. 

He looks uninterested, unchanged as he scans the office. Hands in his pockets and hair falling over his eyes, repressed memories of being pressed up against a balcony railing return to you. The intensity of his stare and warm chest against yours has been the subject of your late night thoughts every night before bed. You toss and turn the memory of his fingers away, trying desperately to ignore the ache between your thighs. 

Taehyung has yet to mention it. Honestly, if you didn’t cum as hard as you did, you would have thought that it was all a dream with the way he speaks to you now. All his messages are bare of any indication that he touched you. Sometimes you stare at the chat and wonder if you should just ask him about it but you can’t shake the feeling that he might be avoiding the subject for a reason. What if it was a pity play? What if he was just trying to make you feel better about leaving you to fend for yourself with his ex? Maybe he didn’t enjoy it as much as you thought he did. You were technically the only one being stimulated and his dick was only half hard when pressed against you. 

“There he is,” Lucas whispers.

You blink back to reality and refocus your attention on Taehyu- the investors. 

“Which one?” Jackson asks, then rolls his eyes when Lucas shrugs. “Why did you say that then?”

“He’s there, isn’t he? I just don’t know which one.”

“The last one,” you inject, hoping to squash their bickering before it reaches Mr. Geraldson. “The one with the green floral coat.”

Your comment attracts more than Jackson and Lucas’s attention. Half the office turns to you, drawing Taehyung’s eyes as well. He smirks when he sees you. His brows bounce as that smirk wides into a smile. 

Your face grows hot. You try as hard as you can to suppress the giddiness in your smile, but you’d be lying if you said you’re not happy to see him - even if he forgot to mention it. 

“You know him?” Lucas asks, eyes round and tentative. 

Looking back to the crowd of eyes you’ve drawn, you swallow thickly. “He’s a friend.”

Jackson clears his throat. He can’t meet your eyes anymore. In fact, no one can. “Back to work,” he mutters before darting to his desk. The crowd disperses, Lucas returning to the kitchen without a word. What the hell happened to all that excitement?

In searching for a face to ask what exactly you’ve said or done to provoke such a reaction, you catch Marina’s eye. Jaw tight, she glares. Her hands are shaking. It takes Mr. Geraldson’s greeting to pull her silent wrath away from you. 

The copy room is your only refuge. It’s warm from the heat of the copies and relatively quiet if you don’t include the loud whirring of the machine. There aren’t any prying eyes or nervous shuffling there either. Apparently knowing Taehyung here is not as widely impressive as knowing him at the gallery. People were pathetically nice to you then in hopes of getting into Taehyung’s good graces. It seems like, here, they don’t want to associate with you because of it. The entire situation is so incredibly confusing because you didn’t think anyone here cared about associations. They are nice to you even while knowing Marina hates your guts. So why is it such a big deal that Taehyung doesn’t hate you. Should you have lied about your friendship?

You’ve finally set the machine in motion when the door opens. 

“Hey, Angel.” Taehyung shuts the door behind him. His coat is missing, fitted black button up on display instead. He smiles as he approaches, hands on your waist to pull you into a hug. Sage and tea leaves soothe your anxious heart. You borrow your nose into his neck and he holds you a little tighter. “Rough day?” 

The depth of his voice vibrates against your chest. His hands cup your cheeks when you finally pull away. It takes his thumb brushing under your eye for you to register that you’re crying. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” he whispers, slightly crouching to meet your downcast gaze. “What’s going on? What happened?” 

The softness of his voice only spurs more tears. You part your lips to apologize only for a little sob to escape instead. Fuck, how pathetic could you be. So some of your co-workers don’t like you. What the fuck is the crime in that? Everyone is entitled to their opinion and not everyone has to like you. You know this and know it well. Why does it make you cry harder then? 

Hands on his chest, you clutch onto his shirt. What are you supposed to tell him now? You can’t say they don’t like you and you can’t tell him why. Caught in this terrible moment of tears, you remain pathetically idle. 

“(Y/N), I’m not kidding. Tell me what happened right now or I’ll go out there and lose my shit on everyone,” he says in that deep, business voice. Fuck, he really is serious. 

You draw in a shaky breath before muttering, “Just a b-ba-ad da-ay.”

He huffs through this nose, annoyed when he hears your shattered voice. Wiping your tears, he tilts your head up at him and says, “That’s hardly an answer to my question.” 

The copy machine stops whirling now that it has finished all the copies. The sniffling silence between you is undeniable now. You turn to get the copies for the machine only for Taehyung to hold you in place. He presses himself flush against you and towers. It’s cruel of him to use one of your weaknesses against you like this, especially when he knows just how much you adore it when he stands over you like this. Even if you won’t admit it. 

“Tell me the truth.”

“That is-”

“Is it Marina?”

In the month you’ve worked here, you never mentioned Marina to him. In fact, you’ve never mentioned the trials of working here to him at all, knowing he would try to dip his hand into your work life and manipulate it so that it’s easier to endure. And though you appreciate the thought behind the gesture, you rather deal with your work on your own. It already pains your pride enough that he was the connection you needed to finally land a job. 

So, how the hell does he know of Marina, of all the shit she has put you through? 

You swallow down the lump in your throat and attempt to soothe your breathing enough to coherently ask, “She called me Bo-peep, didn’t she?”

He furrows his brows. “She calls you Bo-peep?” 

Mirroring his expression, you retaliate with, “How did you know she hates me?”

Taehyung bites his lip. He shifts his weight and wipes the last of your tears, drying his hands on his expensive slacks before shoving them in his pocket. “We used to…” he trails off, looking for the right term. 

“Date?”

He chuckles, “I don’t date, Angel.”

It’s becoming clearer. All the petty coffee runs and useless tasks, all the favoring of Lucas over you and micromanaging all seems to make sense now. She’s another one of Taehyung’s fuck buddies and thinks you’re the next. 

You let out a dry chuckle with a shake of your head. “Should’ve known.”

“I didn’t know you worked in this department,” he rushes to explain. “You don’t really like to talk about work.”

“I wonder why.”

He doesn’t care for your sarcasm, towering over you again. You want this not to turn you on, but your panties dampen all the same. He wipes a stray tear and tilts his head. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’s teasing the impression of a kiss. “I can take care of it.”

You shake your head, pressing your thighs together. “I can handle it myself. She’s just annoyed with Geraldson for moving up the meeting and the fact that you made it so obvious we know each other.”

“Should I have ignored you?”

“No!”

The urgency in your voice surprises you too. Yes, everyone acting differently around you sucks. But, it would have broken your heart if Taehyung pretended you didn’t exist, especially when he already pretended he didn’t make you call him daddy while playing with you. You'd rather be in here with him than without. 

And he knows this well, a cocky smile playing on his lips. “I’ll make a note; you like attention.” 

You playfully glare. “How have you kept me this long if you’re only just realizing this?”

One of his hands trails down the curve of your ass before gently squeezing. Your hiccuped breaths somewhat subside as you arch your back, ass pushing into his hand. “I’ve found that my fingers seem to do the trick,” he whispers with his lips hovering over yours. 

You shiver and your hips act on their own, rolling into his. It only happened once, but you tell yourself that it’s all muscle memory to salvage your pride. His growing bulge offers a bit of reassurance. “There’s a boardroom of people waiting for you.”

“A few more minutes won’t kill them.” He squeezes your ass again, harder this time. You gasp into his mouth. He groans, smirking. “I can’t have you walking out there, squirming and whining-”

“I don’t whine,” you insist through something similar to a whine. 

Taehyung chuckles. You fight a smile, shifting your weight. “That’s right, Angel. You beg.” 

“I’m not begging you to touch me, Tae. I was barely able to walk last time.” That was supposed to sound angry but came out in a pout and the memory makes you wetter. He had to hold onto you for most of the night. You remember smelling like him by the time the event was over. 

He laughs. With the menial distance between your lips, you’re practically exchanging breaths and every ripple that leaves his mouth makes you smile. “I barely did a thing.”

“Shut up,” you chuckle, growing hot all over. “It was my first time.”

Nudging your nose with his, he lets out a low, throaty groan. “I remember,” he whispers. 

“You do?”

He nods as his other hand runs down your thigh and hooks it around his waist. He leans you against the copy machine and mutters, “I think it went something like this, no?”

The moan that escapes you taints your face with shame. He really hasn’t done much, but you’ve been thinking about this for over a month. You thought that you’d have to wait until the next event to discuss this with him… and maybe ask for it again. Besides, you’re at work. You can’t let him play with you at work. It’s wrong. Being with him like this is wrong. He said it himself; he doesn’t date. What do you think you’re gaining from this interaction? 

Still, you tighten your arms around his neck. You want him closer when he touches you this time. You don’t want to give him another chance to pretend this didn’t happen. Holding his gaze, you nod and whisper, “Something like that.”

Taehyung takes this as the confirmation he needs to cup your pussy through your damp panties. It’s pathetic how easily you shatter whatever controlled, collected persona you thought you carried. He smiles at the high pitched, breathy gasp that leaves you, almost amused with the sight himself. 

“You can’t tell me that wasn’t a whine.”

“It wasn’t.”

The tone of your voice earned you a sharp smack to your pussy and a harsher grip of your ass. This time you do whine, the sound cinching in your throat when you remember you’re at work and can be heard at any moment. 

Taehyung rubs the blissfully stinging area, groping all too roughly at your ass for you to think you’re in the clear just yet. “Now, is that the way you should be talking to Daddy?” he questions. 

You can’t help a glare. He avoids the topic of touching you for all too long, only to tease you when he decides to touch you again. Then, he has the audacity to tell you how to speak to him, to make you refer to him with that stupid title that you both know is such a fucking turn on and yet you can’t help but succumb to it. “We shouldn’t even be doing this,” you mumble through a moan, hip rolling against his hand. “I work here.”

Maybe it’s the desperate tone of your voice or the way your body is reacting to his tender touch, but Taehyung is thoroughly amused. He bites his lip to keep from laughing as one of his fingers slips around the hem of your panties. When your eyes twitch at the press of his finger to your clit, he smiles and rubs his nose with yours. “You’re so adorable,” he belittles then pecks your nose. 

He needs to stop teasing. The month without his presence is teasing enough. And that fucking tone he takes with you every time you just happen to react like a whore to his touch. You don’t think it’s very fair that you’re always the one treated like his slut when he shamelessly gropes and rubs you like you belong to him… which, upon further thought, doesn’t seem like a completely terrible idea. 

With two fingers, he draws slow but small circles around your clit, muttering about how fucking wet you were before he even started. “I didn’t think you could get any wetter,” he whispers, all while holding your gaze. He tsks every time your eyes flutter shut from the sensation too, reminding you that if you want to cum, “You have to keep your eyes on me.” 

God, it just all feels like a dream. It feels like all the times you’ve tried to shake thoughts of him out of your head late at night have conspired against you to create such a cruel dream. But then you get a strong whiff of his cologne, his natural scent of sage not too far behind. Smells don’t usually travel into dreams, do they? 

He pinches your clit, jolting your hips up into his. He’s unbelievably hard and you refuse to admit that that’s the reason for your all too loud moan. Taehyung clamps his hand over your mouth, glaring as he pinches harder. “Keep it down,” he hisses, “And if you want to cum at all you’ll keep your eyes on me.”

All you meant to do was nod. The fatal look in his eyes however triggered an instinctual reaction to kiss his palm. It disarms him enough to shatter the anger that once took over his features. His treatment of your clit is gentler too. Attentive and soft, he rubs shallow, fast circles over it. You didn’t think such a delicate gesture would make your legs shake so much. But, here you are, trembling against him, moaning into his hand and trying so fucking hard to keep your eyes open. 

“Do you want more?”

You raise a brow, circling your hips to the pace of his fingers. More of him or his fingers?

His fingers fall to your entrance, gently circling it as his thumb takes over rubbing your clit. Though you are still debating the offer, you find that your body has already made the decision for you, thrusting up into him within seconds. It makes him smile all too smugly for your liking. Yet, you only seem to get wetter. 

“I’ll be gentle,” he promises, removing his hand from your mouth. 

“Will it hurt?” You’ve always wondered but never had the courage to ask. 

He shakes his head. “Not if you’re wet enough,” he smirks. “I think you can take it if you want it.”

Face flushed, you try not to feel too embarrassed as you nod. Sure, you may have done this before, but it was only just once. Just once and never again. Over and over, you’d mulled about this and him and wonder if possibly it would have been different if he did put his fingers in you. Would you have been more inclined to bring it up if he did? It also felt so good without, that the thought of being with his fingers so intimately this time makes you clench. 

He’s just hovering outside of your hole, but he can feel it all the same. Placing a soft kiss to your cheek, he lets his eyes fall shut and nuzzle his nose against your face. A little groan escapes him at the gentle scratches you offer on the nape of his neck. Playing with his hair is always so fun when he’s close like this and making you his. 

“You want it?”

“Yes.”

“Beg.”

You fucking knew that it was too easy. Your pride screams at you to refuse him the pleasure of being right, but all those tortured nights thinking about this exact moment are stacking up against you. It would be stupid to act out now. So why do you?

“You’re unbelievable.” You try and fail not to sound so pitiful. 

Taehyung hums a throaty groan. “You’re too wet to play games, Angel. You know that if you just ask me nicely, you can have anything you want in the world. ”

His thumb moves faster, pressing down on your clit a bit harder than you’re mentally prepared for. You refuse to let that distract you though. Summoning your most innocent voice, you ask, “Really? Anything, Daddy?”

Cock throbbing against your thigh, his teeth graze your cheek for a bite. You gasp, unsure if your surprise is due to his mouth or the impression of his huge length. “Anything,” he reaffirms in a rasp. 

“Even a pony?” 

Your joke has gone too far. Or, perhaps he’s just had enough of your attitude. A harsh slap meets your pussy either way and those soothing rubs he usually offers after do not follow. It seems you’ve pissed him off a little too much. 

With a bite of your lip, you whimper, worried that you might not cum at all. 

“If you know you’re this fucking horny,” he harshly cups your pussy, your back slamming back against the copy machine. “Why the fuck do you mess around? Just ask.”

You huff, tired of his antics as he is of yours. “You want me to beg, not ask.”

“When has that ever stopped you? I thought you were my good girl.” 

His lips are at the base of your neck now, licking and sucking at your skin. You tremble. And though you wish it was because of the way he bites down on your skin, you know that it really has to do with those three words: my good girl. 

He doesn’t date. Still, you are his. You cannot imagine anything more pathetic… that is until you begin to beg. 

Voice quivering and breathy, you whisper, “Please, Daddy? Can you pretty please finger me?” 

“Pretty please?” he teases against your skin. You can feel him smiling, enjoying your submissive state all too much. 

You know you should feel some sort of resentment towards him for the things he makes you say when he knows you want him. Yet, you can’t help this burst of empowerment. It’s to your words that he finds his motivation and it is through your words that he acts on it. Are you his or is he yours?

“Are you ready, Angel?” he whispers. When you nod, he adds, “Take a deep breath for me, okay?”

The moment you draw in a breath, his middle finger pushes into you. He moves slow and steady and yet you can’t help the squeal that escapes you. The burn of the stretch is nothing like you’ve ever experienced. You always thought it would be like a lump in your throat, straining against the walls of your larynx with each swallow. This feels more like sticking something between the fold of your elbow, but wetter and so much more pleasurable. 

And Taehyung stays true to his word, every gesture being soft and tender. He studies your face rather obsessively too, eyes bouncing over all of your features for any signs of discomfort. All you can really do is peer up at him like you’re begging him all over again but you just don’t know for what. You like the slow pace he’s set, it almost does feel like something you can- 

“Holy fu-uck!”

Taehyung clamps his hand over your mouth again. He reached as far as he could before adding an extra finger. That alone makes your eyes roll back, but it is the cool tip of something around one of his fingers that made you moan out the way you did. He holds them steady in you as he glares. “Honestly, Angel, if I didn’t know any better, I would think you’d want everyone to know I was in here with you,” he hisses as he curls his fingers. 

Your head falls back with another whiney moan at the sensation. Taehyung misinterprets it though. “Mm, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? You’d like someone to just walk in here and watch me finger fuck the lights out of you?”

Shame should riddle you with senses enough to stop all this now and return to your tasks. Only you’ve lost your senses the moment he held you and your shame has disappeared the moment he pinned you his good girl. It’s the only reason you clench around his fingers, you tell yourself. It has to be the only reason the idea of being walked in on and watched makes you so fucking needy, your hips rock forward into his hand and back again. Because otherwise that would be insane, right? It would be insane that he would even continue to fuck you knowing someone was watching. 

Taehyung takes the tightening of your walls as a good sign, smirking down at you as he cradles your waist. His fingers jolt into action. Curled just right, they bounce in you, hitting a sensitive spot you probably wouldn’t have been able to find yourself. That metal tip you now presume must be a ring, scratches at your walls so deliciously, it drops your mouth open and tongue out. Taehyung must feel it too, removing his hands from your mouth to see it for himself. 

“God, you’re so hot,” he groans before sticking his tongue out to lick yours.

Your pussy quivers, much to his delight, and eyes widen at the gesture. He wants you to fall apart. He must or else he wouldn’t have been so blunt as to play with your tongue so freely. Saliva drips down both your chins as your tongues swirl around each other, frantically and, dare you even think, passionately. 

You don’t think you can take anymore as you clutch onto his shoulders, fisting his shirt in your hands. But then he starts to rub your clit with his thumb all while picking up his pace. Your head almost knocks into his as your knees buckle.

Taehyung is quick to keep you from falling, holding you tight against him with the grip around your waist. “You have no idea how cute you get when you’re about to cum,” he chuckles, speaking so casually you would think his fingers weren’t in you if it hadn’t been for that familiar twisting knot that makes you clench so tight as it gets harder and harder to ignore. “Your right eye always twitches- oh, just like that.” 

Biting your lip, you prepare yourself to swallow your moans, knowing it’s going to be a struggle to remain below a whisper once you cum. Taehyung sees right through your plans, kicking the copy machine behind you. It whirls into motion, sounding louder than the wet squishes of his fingers moving inside you. “Don’t hurt yourself trying to be quiet, Angel,” he whispers in your ear so you can hear him over the machine. “You’re doing so good for me. Cute, tight little pussy taking my fingers so well. You like it, right? You like how my fingers feel inside you, Angel?”

“Yes, yes! I lo-ove it, Daddy! S-so mu-uch!” 

Okay, maybe now you are whining. But, you’re about to cum so it hardly seems fair that he can hold this against you later. It doesn’t even really matter now with the way his fingers are soaking his pants. You can feel the wet patch from your arousal dampen the spot of his black slacks against your leg. 

“Angel,” he starts, wanting to sneak a glance down between your legs, but you're holding on too tight. 

Your vision begins to blur, mouth falling open and even with the machine whirring loudly behind you, Taehyung has to press you against it so that he can clamp your mouth shut. Blood is rushing to your head, clogging your ears enough that you can breathe or hear your own heart beat, let alone Taehyung’s now distant voice. Your body quakes all over, throwing your head back only to have Taehyung pull it right up by the grip over your mouth.

“Look at me!”

The rough tone of his voice, the lust-blown look in his eyes and the harsh pump of his fingers send a rush of cum all over his hand. Your legs give out and you have to resort to hugging Taehyung for dear life to keep from falling. He rests his forehead against yours, not really seeming to mind it all too much. You begin to wonder for a split second why he hasn’t let go of your mouth and just kissed you instead. 

A burst of something more liquid than just your cum leaks out of you and all over Taehyung’s pants. He gasps, pulling away only a fraction to watch as it happens again. 

“Shit, I knew it,” he smirks. 

You, on the other hand, are not so composed. Your senses have only just come back to you, having somewhat regained your hearing enough to hear how the machine masks your loud heaving for air but not Taehyung’s laughter. You really, for the love of God, hope you did not just do what you think you did all over his pants. 

Taehyung takes his fingers out as a bit more drips out of you this time. He rubs every last drop out, meeting your horrified gaze with a cocky smirk. “It’s okay, Angel. They’re just pants.”

“I ruined them,” you gasp, wanting so badly to act as guilty as you felt. Your hips still circle around his hand, almost needy for more even though it’s almost starting to hurt. If you try to move away from his hand now though, will he ever put it back? Are you going to have to wait another month before he does?

“I don’t care,” he shrugs. 

“You have a meet-”

“I’m more impressed with how easily you just squirted.”

Is that what that was? You let out a sigh of relief between pants. Taehyung gives you a reassuring smile, rubbing the entirety of your pussy one last time before sucking on his fingers. You hope that is a habit he always has after playing with you because holy fuck, is that not the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. Nothing beats the sight of an amused Taehyung with his hair over those intense mismatched eyes and cum coated fingers in his mouth. 

“Yeah?” you ask, somewhat dazed. 

He nods, putting his finger in your mouth now. There’s barely any cum left but just tasting his spit is comfort enough. When he removes them, he presses his forehead against yours with a little smile. 

It feels like you’ve been standing for hours in this comfortable silence with your leg still wrapped around him, hands on his shoulders and his on your ass, just gazing at one another. His pants are so wet against your leg, you wonder how the hell he’s going to explain this to the boardroom. 

Shit, the meeting!

Unhooking your leg from around his waist, you move out of his hold only for Taehyung to tighten his grip. You give him a playfully pointed glare to which he only smirks, “Not yet, Angel.”

“I have to get these documents set for the meeting. Lucas will probably be wondering where I am too,” you explain, trying so hard not to mentally make a huge deal at the fact that he would rather hold you here like this instead. 

His grip on your ass tightens. You gasp in his mouth as he asks, “Lucas?”

“He’s the other intern.” When he doesn’t say anything, just stares at you inquisitively, you add, “We help each other out sometimes to keep Marina off our backs.” 

His face falls blank, like it was when he first entered the building. In seconds, you’re released from his hold and he rolls your black skirt back down from where it was bunched at your waist for you. When you part your lips to thank him, he reaches behind you and grabs the stacked documents for you to take. 

“Don’t want to keep Lucas waiting,” he mutters when you simply stare up at him. 

Is it because it’s your second time with him? You’re not even really with him, but is he acting cold because it’s not your first time? He was so much more attentive before, right? You didn’t just make that part up in your head? He held and kissed your neck and cheeks and nose. What about your forehead? He kissed your forehead so much, especially when you finished. Where are all those forehead kisses now? 

A little sigh escapes you as you take the documents. “Sorry again about your pants,” you say before walking around him. Your legs are a bit shaky but it’s nothing a few more steps can’t manage. 

When you reach for the door handle, you feel his arms sneak around your waist. Your back meets the warmth of his chest. His lips hover over the edge of your ear as he whispers, “You did so well for me today. Sure, you came without asking,” he teases with a chuckle and little tickle of your stomach. You giggle with him, slightly squirming in his hold. “But all the squirting made up for it.”

“I’ll be sure to remember that next time,” you joke before realizing the implication of your words. You just alluded to a next time that might never come. 

Taehyung doesn’t seem to mind or maybe just doesn’t register your words. He presses a long kiss to your temple then whispers, “Are you sure you don’t want me to do anything about Marina?”

Something about hearing her name from his lips makes you a little queasy. You fight through the feeling, shaking your head. “I can handle it on my own.” You try to sound as reassuring as you can but you know he doesn’t believe you. Still, he lets you go. 

After setting up the boardroom for the meeting, you sit at your desk, separating paper clips from  gold to silver, and watch as Lucas sits in the corner by Jackson. He takes diligent notes, once promising to share them with you but now might have different plans. Marina sits by Taehyung. His gaze is either fixated on his papers or you; never her. 

When the meeting is over, you hear Lucas complain to Jackson in the kitchen about the weird smell coming from Taehyung. 

“It’s like really expensive cologne mixed with something else.”

“Did you notice his pants were wet?” When Lucas raises his brows, Jackson adds, “And his shirt was all wrinkled too.”

A smile plays on your lips. 

tags : @marcoazz2 @complexmolecule @whats-good-ross @mawwnsterr @neverthefirstchoice @taeisbae13​ @taeluvrr 

note; please do not leave hate towards me or any other readers. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work without my permission.