#and this is all on top of my 50 million other half-started fics

[elusivewildflower]

i may or may not be coming up with 12 different fics/drabbles to write for Christmas.......

[diaphragmjellyfish]

You Just Wait

gif is from @twilightofficial​

A/N: The hardest part of writing a fic is honestly choosing the love interest XD I have so many fictional boyfriends it’s hard to choose just one. I have noticed a significant lack of Jared Cameron content and he’s super adorable so here it is! Also, I left the concept a little bit more vague so more people can relate to it. It doesn’t specifically say vaginismus, it’s more of a general “sex doesn’t normally go well for me” type thing. 

Bottomless, covered in chocolate sauce, walking through the woods, phone dead, in the middle of August on a weekday. How did you end up here? Jared Cameron. Your boyfriend. He had roped you in to an elaborate prank on Paul that hadn’t exactly gone as planned. Needless to say, you were desperate for a shower and a nap. A hot meal wouldn’t hurt. And you were beyond irritated, not even looking Jared’s way as he walked next to you in a similar state. 

“Babe, if you let me carry you, we’ll get home way faster,” he whined.

You didn’t respond, only walking with more frustration around the roots and fallen trees. It was growing dark, just about twilight, and you knew you wouldn’t be reaching either of your houses at this rate. You were miles into the forest. But your pride kept you from accepting Jared’s wolfy-back ride, because he tended to make lots of jokes about being between your legs and you riding him and blah blah blah, and you honestly might punch him right now if he did that. 

So you just kept ignoring him, arms folded tightly against your chest because, yes, it was August, but this was also the Washington coast. It got pretty chilly no matter what time of year it was. 

“I can see you shivering from here,” he pleaded, almost sounding in pain at the thought of you being uncomfortable. “It’s only gonna get colder. Let me help you.”

You ignored him. 

“C’mooonnnnnn,” he cried. His preferred way of cracking your silence was usually by annoying you out of it, and it was working. “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon c’mon c’mon c’mon c’m-”

“Jared, I swear to God!” 

“Aha! She speaks!” he laughed. 

“”Only to tell you to be quiet, or I’ll-”

“Or you’ll what?” he cut you off. “I’m way stronger than you!” He was teasing you into talking to him. Even if it was in the form of arguing. Damn, he always got you to crack. You stopped walking, turning to face him, arms still held tightly around yourself. You couldn’t resist a good bicker, and Jared knew that. He would get the sass to come out, and then once you got tired, he’d apologize and you’d be made up within half an hour. That’s what always happened. And you couldn’t exactly stay mad at those big brown puppy eyes for long. 

“Physically, maybe,” you chided, “but I’m definitely way smarter than you.”

He stepped closer to you, a playful smirk on his face. “What, are you gonna read me to death or something?”

“I’m gonna strategize a huge plan, manipulate you, and leave you here in the forest by yourself. That’s what I’m gonna do,” you sassed. He never took arguments to heart, which is one thing you loved about him. He knew how grumpy you could get and would let you vent, and then make you forget all about the problem. 

“Oh, okay, yeah sure,” he giggled, hands going up in defense. “I’m just saying that in this situation, there is no way you come out on top. You run, I catch you. You hide, I sniff you out,” he teased. This made you crack an almost imperceptible smile, but one he noticed nonetheless. “And if you did somehow manage to get away from me, you’d freeze to death in an hour flat.” The cold breeze that caused you to shiver more violently could not have had worse timing. Obviously, Jared noticed, and his face dropped. He approached you slowly, silently asking if you were still mad enough to not let him touch you. When you didn’t step back or stop him, he wrapped both his arms around you and brought you into a huge bear hug. You sighed at his warmth, wrapping your arms tightly around his torso. He’d given you his hoodie hours ago, and was left in only a pair of shorts, though he didn’t seem to notice. Damn him and his werewolf heat. 

You still shivered in his arms, but his feverish temperature was a relief to your aching bones. 

“See? Could’ve been warm hours ago,” he teased once again, noting your clinginess. 

“Shut up. I’m still mad,” you mumbled into his neck. He laughed softly to himself, rubbing his hands up and down your body to create more heat. After a few minutes, you were starting to struggle to keep your eyes open. It had to be close to 2 in the morning, and you’d been walking for what felt like hours. Jared could have easily run home and let you brood alone, but he stuck with you no matter how long you went without speaking to him. 

“Sleepy?” he murmured into your hair. You just nodded softly, and didn’t protest as he bent down, one hand going behind your knees and the other staying around your back. He picked you up with ease and started walking through the woods once more with an “Okay Princess, I got you.” His stride never faltered, easily avoiding tripping over roots or slipping on rain-soaked moss. He must have been walking for about 30 minutes, never so much as breathing hard or shifting you in his grip. You didn’t sleep, but welcomed the rest he allowed you. Your eyes were closed, head resting on his shoulder when you felt him stop. You looked up, and in the distance, maybe 50 yards away, you saw a small building. 

“Hunter’s cabin, I’m guessing. No one’s home,” Jared stated, anticipating your questions. 

“Think there’ll be blankets?” you wondered, tired, yet still playful. 

“What, am I not enough for you?” he feigned mock hurt as you giggled at his unshakeable good attitude. Without another word, he began walking towards the small cabin, which was about the size of an average bedroom. When you reached the door, he set you down gently, holding his hands close to your waist while you found your footing, and then wrapping an arm over your shoulders to keep you warm. 

“I’m assuming it’s locked,” you sighed, disappointed. 

“Babe, no door is locked when you have super strength. Honestly, I thought you’d have more faith in me by now,” he smiled brightly. 

“You can’t just go around kicking random people’s doors in!” you scolded. 

“Okay, first of all, I can tell by the smell that no one’s been here in years. Second of all, how would anyone know it was us that broke in and not, like, a deer? And third of all, I’d say this counts as an emergency,” he sassed right back at you. You looked at him in annoyance, too tired and cold to actually care. 

After a long sigh, you muttered “fine.” 

He immediately turned to the door, not letting you so much as inhale before he slammed his foot into the space next to the knob, the door all but flying off its hinges. The whole scene caused deafening noise that interrupted the silence of the trees. 

“Jesus!” you called out in surprise, a hand shooting up to your pounding heart. You look around, though knowing no one was around for miles. Jared only turned to look at you, a cheeky smile adorning his face, and said,

“See? Told ya.” 

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the loving and admiring energy that overcame you. Jared really was one in a million, and you were lucky to be by his side. He could be in the worst situation in the world and still find something to laugh about. 

He motioned for you to go in first, ever the gentleman. Walking through the door, the first thing you noticed was the dust. The entire inside of the cabin was covered in a thick layer of it. There was a small, rickety couch with cushions so worn they had holes in them throughout. And the fabric… my God. It looked like something from the 60’s, an obnoxious floral that had faded over time, and now just looked flat out stained. There was a flimsy throw blanket over the back of the couch, a cooler in the corner of the room that was covered in dirt, and on the opposite wall, a fireplace! No wood, no matches, but it was there. The floor was scattered with bullet shells, receipts, and decayed leaves. It was obvious no one had been in here for at least 3 or 4 years. 

“Okay, I can work with this,” Jared said. You really were jealous of his optimism. But, as disgusting as this place was, it beat the frigid breeze of outside, and had a place where you could rest your heads. You walked over to the couch, grabbing the blanket and beating the dust off of it. It was really only meant for one person, but you guys were okay with getting close. It would do. 

Jared walked over to the opposite corner where the cooler sat by the fireplace and opened the lid, peeking inside. 

“Just water,” he said, sounding almost disappointed. 

“Were you really gonna eat whatever was in there?” you spoke incredulously. 

“Babe, I’m starving. You have no idea how close I am to licking that chocolate sauce off of you,” he voiced. You had almost forgotten about the sticky sauce that covered both of your clothes. That prank really was a disaster. You looked down, face heating at the thought of Jared’s mouth on you like that, and turned to the fireplace where he stood. He was looking on the mantle, oblivious to the effect his comment had on you, and exclaimed “Aha!” before reaching up to grab something. “A lighter. We’re saved! Well, you are,” he laughed looking over at your shivering form once more. “Stay here and get comfy. I’m gonna go get some wood.” 

You tried your best, sitting on the edge of the couch and immediately feeling a spring poking you in the butt. The couch really was tiny. You guys were gonna have to bundle up close to fit. The thought excited you. Sure, you and Jared had always been comfortable touching and holding each other, but there were certain areas of your relationship you had yet to explore. More… intimate areas. It was your fault mostly. To make a long story short, you’ve just never enjoyed sex. You found yourself not able to get aroused, which made things painful. Sure, you wanted to. You’d thought about it a ton. But in the moment, your head was so full of thoughts of ‘What if he thinks I’m ugly? What if I smell? Am I doing this right? Is he having a good time? Am I taking too long?’ that you just stopped trying. And obviously you wanted to have sex with Jared, but you were worried he’d be disappointed. By the time he got back, just a few minutes later, you had brought your knees up to your chest, holding your legs close in an effort to preserve warmth. 

“Doing okay Sweetheart?” he asked gently. You gave a small smile and nodded in response. He plopped the logs in his arms down into the fireplace, scavenging the floor for receipts, dried leaves, anything that would catch fire. He dumped these into the fireplace and lit them, the fire catching within seconds. He walked over to the other side of the room where the couch was before bending down, grabbing the bottom lip of it, and pulling it (and you) across the floor, one-handed, and closer to the fire. “Better?” You had always been in awe of his strength. Let’s be honest, it was just plain sexy. Again, you just nodded your head, staring at him in adoration. 

He sat beside you on the couch, throwing an arm over your shoulders again, and leaning back, taking you with him. You cuddled into his side, watching the fire. 

“Ya know, if you take away the shitty couch and sticky clothes and add a few more blankets, this would actually be pretty nice,” he finally spoke. 

You laughed softly, replying, “It would. The couch isn’t even awful, but these clothes are really ruining the mood for me.” 

“Well why don’t you get out of ‘em, hot stuff?” he joked. You knew he wasn’t serious because you guys haven’t gotten that far yet, but something, maybe the exhaustion or the way he kept challenging you today, made you want to actually do it. Before you could lose your nerve, you reached down, pulling off the hoodie and shirt in one go and tossing them onto the floor. You relaxed back into his arms in just a bra, acting like nothing had happened. He was frozen beside you. Maybe it was mean, but you wanted to tease him a little. He’d put you through a lot today, so you wanted to mess with him a tiny bit. So, coolly, you brought a hand onto his thigh and began running it up and down, going higher and higher with each pass. He was still frozen, so you gave a light squeeze, and heard him inhale sharply, though he tried to hide it. 

“I thought you were tired,” he commented.

“Guess I’m not anymore,” you responded, turning to face him boldly. He immediately leaned in to kiss you, softly as always. You reciprocated, bringing your other hand up to cup his face. His arm that was around your shoulders slipped down around your waist, pulling you in further. Jared had always been gentle when kissing you, so you knew you’d have to make the first move to deepen it. Which is exactly what you did. Running your hand up his head and grabbing his hair, you pulled him towards you even more and traced your tongue across his bottom lip. He responded by matching your energy, tongue slipping out to caress yours before bringing your bottom lip between his teeth and nibbling softly. You guys had never kissed like this before. You felt a bead of warmth pool in your abdomen, something you’d never felt with a guy before. Sure, you’d been turned on while watching certain videos or reading certain fanfiction by yourself, but you’d never actually experienced it with someone before. It was exciting. Maybe it was the knowledge that you could stop things at any time and he wouldn’t be upset, or maybe it was how in love with you he really was, but you didn’t feel nervous or worried. You felt comfortable. 

Taking things a step further, you swung your leg over both of his, moving to straddle his lap. 

He pulled away slightly at this, making you ask, “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing’s wrong,” he responded, “I just don’t wanna make you do anything you don’t wanna do.”

You smiled, “I’m not doing anything I don’t wanna do. Are you?” 

“Are you seriously asking me that question right now?” He laughed, making you giggle along. 

You leaned back in for another kiss, when he stopped you again. “What exactly… are we doing, though?” You knew what he was silently asking. Are we about to go all the way? And you didn’t know yet. This had started out as playful teasing, but now you were beginning to think that maybe you did want to try something. With Jared. He was it for you, the one you wanted to spend forever with. If you couldn’t trust him, you couldn’t trust anyone. And he’d taken such good care of you these last few hours, keeping you warm, making sure you were storming off in the right direction, that you knew he’d appreciate you in a more intimate sense. 

“I- I kind of would like to try… some stuff,” you answered. 

He looked at you, eyes wide, before answering, “What kind of stuff? I mean, I will do literally anything you ask me to do and you know that, but I didn’t really prepare for this. Like, I don’t… have what we need.” Oh, a condom. What a responsible boy. 

“I’m on the pill,” you replied a little too quickly before looking down and fiddling with your hands. “If you want to.” 

“Y/N, I would be absolutely fucking honored,” he breathed, before cupping your face and pulling you into the most heated kiss yet. Your tongues danced, hands wandering. Yours, across his muscled chest and abdomen, and his, down your waist and around to cup your pantsless ass, squeezing firmly. It felt nice. He handled you in a way that was gentle and painless, but still dominant and firm. And it made the heat in your belly grow. You continued kissing for several minutes, your hands moving up his neck and eventually landing in his hair once more, and his remaining on your ass and waist. You softly sucked at his lower lip, nibbling slightly, and it made him let out a low growl and pull your hips forward onto his, where you felt something hard push against you. You knew what it was, and it didn’t scare you like it normally would. You did, however, feel your damp underwear. Shit, that’s never happened before. You were normally bone dry at this point. You let out a soft sigh, grinding your hips onto him once more. 

He softened his kisses slightly, bringing a hand around to your stomach and running his knuckles lightly across your lower abdomen. 

“Can I?” He questioned delicately. 

“Yes,” you replied almost immediately. He brought his hand under the waistband of your underwear, when you said, “Wait,” and he stopped. “Just one thing. I kind of… have never been able to do this without it hurting a lot, so maybe you could just try to be gentle?” 

“Oh, baby, you’ve been in pain before? I’m so sorry,” he whispered genuinely. 

“It’s okay, I just…” It was now or never. He should know. “Normally I’m super nervous about everything, so I can’t really… get into it, and when girls aren’t into it it’s kind of… dry? And that makes it kind of hurt really bad.” You faded out at the end, feeling embarrassed. He brought his hand out of your underwear and up to your chin, tilting your face up to look him in the eye, looking concerned. “But I’m into this, I mean, right now. I’m excited. I just thought I should warn you,” you awkwardly laughed at the end. 

“You promise? Because you know that if you want to stop we will, and I would never be upset or pressure or anything like that,” he spoke sweetly, making your heart flutter. And you did know that, which is why you felt comfortable. Every other time, you felt that if you went past a certain point, you couldn’t say stop. Couldn’t call it off without making whatever guy you were with super mad and then… who knows what would happen. But when Jared spoke those words, you believed him. 

“I promise. And I know you’ll stop. But I don’t want you to.” 

With this, he scanned your face one more time for any signs of hesitation, and when he found none, brought you down into another heated kiss. You felt his hand trail from your chin down to your breasts, skimming over your bra, down your stomach and once again to the waistband of your underwear. Only this time he didn’t go under. He stayed on top of the fabric and brought his hand down between your legs, index finger brushing lightly against your core. You barely felt it, and began to worry that you’d once again feel numb. Oftentimes, when guys would touch you or go down on you, you felt nothing. It was like you were broken or something. And you started to become concerned that tonight would be no different. 

But he brought his finger down again, repeating the same movement, only with significantly more pressure this time, and it had you release an involuntary sigh. And instead of removing his finger like he had the first time, he kept it over your clit, drawing firm circles. 

Your mouth dropped open in a silent moan, Jared staring intently at your face. 

“Oh, wow,” you finally breathed. 

“Good?” he asked cockily, wearing a large smirk. He repeated the movement again, drawing a line from your core to your clit, stopping to rub circles. 

“Mmm hmm,” you sighed. He leaned in once more to meet you with the sloppiest, dirtiest kiss you two had shared yet, and it only made you grind your center into his hand. He repeated the action several times over, and you were a writhing mess in minutes. 

He brought a finger under your waistband once more, stretching the elastic out before letting it snap lightly against your skin. “Let’s take these off, hmm?” You’d never stood up so fast in your life, practically ripping the panties off of you, taking your bra off with it. Jared stood up to remove his shorts, but stopped to stare. 

“What?” you questioned shyly, moving to cover up.

“You’re literally the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my entire life.” 

The boy quite literally had heart eyes for you. 

“Oh,” you responded meekly, cheeks heating up. When you kept looking back at him, he seemed to snap back into the moment and hurriedly ripped off his shorts and underwear, sitting back on the couch and opening his arms for you. You moved to straddle his hips the same way as before, and he brought his arms around to embrace you as you shared another heated kiss. One of his hands moved up to cup your breast, thumb rolling over your nipple as if you were made of glass. Jared pulled his mouth off of yours and trailed his lips down the side of your face, to your jaw, and down onto your neck, suckling lightly and leaving wet kisses. You tilted your head to the side to give him better access, and brought one of your hands down between you two to grasp him. He shuddered, only grabbing your hips and bringing you impossibly closer. His other hand trailed down to your center once more, going straight to your core and gathering the slight wetness there before bringing his finger up to your clit and circling. With your underwear out of the way, you felt almost lightheaded at his touch. You never knew how girls could cum during sex before, because you never seemed to feel much at all unless it was pain, but with how aroused you were right now and Jared’s movements, you thought for the first time that you may actually be able to finish. People do say that 90% of sex is mental, and you guessed this is what they meant. The more into it you are, the more physical sensation you actually feel. Groundbreaking. 

“Can I finger you?” he murmured huskily into your neck. 

You tensed slightly at this, but trusted him. If you said stop, he would. “Ok, just go slow.”

“Of course,” he responded before placing a sweet kiss on your shoulder and bringing his index finger back to your core, swirling around the entrance a few times. You took a few deep breaths to relax your muscles, and he looked at you, wordlessly asking, Ready? You nodded, and he slipped his finger in, just to the first knuckle, and held it still while he brought his thumb to your clit and continued rubbing. When he noticed you visibly relax, he slipped his finger in further to the second knuckle, stopping for a few seconds, and then all the way. He kept it here again, giving you time to adjust or tell him to stop, all the while keeping you stimulated with his thumb. It felt really good. Well, you didn’t exactly feel his finger at all, which was better than pain, and his thumb was making you crazy. Your breathing was labored at this point, eyebrows furrowed as you held onto his shoulders, nails digging in and sure to leave scratches. He pressed the finger inside of you onto your front wall suddenly, massaging the ridges firmly, and you let out a moan. Your first real moan ever. And damn did it get Jared excited. He continued this motion again and again, building in intensity and pressure slowly. When he felt how wet you had become, he pulled his finger back out to the first knuckle, and added his middle finger next to it, sliding them both back in slowly so as not to hurt you. Your eyes widened at the stretch, but it didn’t hurt. It felt amazing. 

“Oh, fuck,” you whispered to yourself, before moaning once more as his fingers began the ‘come-hither’ motion once more. 

“Am I hurting you?” he asked, concerned at your cursing. 

“No, feels so good,” you moaned, and he smiled at this, increasing the pressure even more. Your eyes screwed shut, hips stuttering over his hand, letting him finger fuck you for several more minutes as you began to feel a tightening in your stomach. He brought his thumb off of your clit finally, adjusting his hand for a better angle and bringing his other hand off of your waist and up to his mouth, licking his thumb and bringing that down to your clit, resuming the tight circles. You could hear how wet you were, feeling too good to be embarrassed. The heat in your stomach was building, spreading. You felt your legs begin to shake, muscles begin to tighten around his fingers, and your eyes screwed shut as you opened your mouth in a silent scream and came. The waves of pleasure washed over you for a long time, Jared slowing his movements down so as not to overstimulate you. When you finally opened your eyes again, you were panting, legs feeling like Jello. Jared was staring at you with a look of absolute awe on his face, mouth agape and dick rock hard, red, and leaking precum. He was more turned on than he had ever been from actual sex before, and it was only from watching you. 

“Fuck, baby that was so hot,” he all but moaned. 

You reached down to grasp him, panting a “your turn.” 

He grabbed both your wrists, stopping you. “Nuh uh, this is about you. Lie the fuck down.”

You gasped, his dominant tone turning you on despite your recent climax. You both knew that if you were even slightly uncomfortable, things would stop immediately. But it was fun for both of you to let him be a little aggressive. You did as told, lying long ways across the couch cushions, Jared moving to kneel between your legs, moving your knees softly apart so he could look at all of you. You didn’t feel insecure being exposed like this. You felt excited. 

“Are you absolutely sure you wanna do this?” he questioned. 

“I have never been more sure, Jared baby, I want to,” you pleaded. This was enough for him, so he brought his dick down to line up with your entrance, rubbing the tip up and down a few times to collect your wetness. He was worried that there wouldn’t be enough lubricant, so he brought a hand up to his mouth and spit, rubbing the saliva on his cock. 

“You just wait ‘til we get some real lube and a real fucking bed, Princess. You won’t be able to walk for days.” You shuddered at the thought of this, and of the sensation of his dick rubbing around your clit and back down to your entrance. He pushed in slightly, letting the tip in before pausing and checking your face for any signs of pain. When he found none, he pushed in slightly more, and more. He was being extremely slow, and you appreciated it. Guys normally would just shove themselves inside, not giving you any time to adjust before pounding away. But Jared was careful, despite how turned on you knew he was. He still had your best interest in mind. Within a couple of minutes, he was fully seated inside of you, staying still until you told him to move. He brought his face down to give you a sweet kiss, waiting for you to give him the signal. 

After a few seconds, you didn’t feel any sort of stinging or pain, so you nodded, saying “Just start slow.” 

“Of course,” he replied genuinely. He pulled his hips back just a few inches, before slowly grinding them back into yours. You closed your eyes, focusing on keeping your muscles loose and relaxed as he continues this movement a few more times. The next time he pushed in, he ground his hips further into yours, hitting the deepest parts of you. This had you release a gasp, eyes opening to meet his. “Okay?” he questioned. 

“Yes.” 

He did this several more times, letting you get used to the feeling of him being so deep inside of you, before your hips began to grind back into his. It felt really good. When he noticed this, he began pulling his hips back more, pushing back in slightly faster, and this had you moaning. You threw your head back, back arched, just enjoying the sensations. Your hands were grasping at his shoulders, definitely leaving scratch marks. 

“Oh my God,” you whispered. 

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he responded, planting sloppy kisses to your neck and collar bone. “Baby, I’m not gonna last much longer.” 

You smiled at this, glad he was enjoying it as much as you were. “Go ahead, cum for me,” you spoke, and your words had him right on the edge. He pulled out of you quickly, hand fisting his cock as he stared at your sweaty, writhing body below him. He came hard, spilling onto your stomach as he growled out, the sound making your toes curl, almost animalistic. You both remained in this position as you came down, breaths labored and eyes barely open. He stood up fully off of the couch and reached for the flimsy blanket on the floor, using it to wipe off your stomach. He threw it into the corner of the room and lay down next to you on the couch, gathering you up into his arms to cuddle. 

“Did you have a good time?” he asked almost nervously after a few minutes. 

“Nah, kinda sucked,” you teased, and he let out a playful laugh, lightly shoving you away before pulling you back and planting a kiss on your temple. 

A pause. “For real though,” he prodded, beginning to panic slightly. 

You burst out laughing. “Of course I had a good time, Jared. Best i’ve ever had, if I’m being honest.” 

“Ok good,” he sighed, relieved but trying not to show that you actually had him nervous for a second. 

Another pause. “Did… did you have a good time?” you questioned back at him. 

He seemed almost offended at the question, bringing a hand up to cup your face so that your eyes met his. “Y/N, this was the best night of my entire life. That was perfect. You are perfect. And I’m glad you trusted me enough to do that with you.” 

You felt your eyes sting slightly, emotions running wild. You considered yourself the luckiest girl in the world to be with Jared Cameron. Not only was he totally gorgeous, but kind, hilarious, and great in bed. 

In an effort to switch the tone back to a more playful one, you replied, “Yeah, well I was promised some more fun involving real lube and a real bed so…” 

He tugged you further into him, wrapping his arms around you in a way that made you think he might never let go. He laughed, and said “Oh, you just wait.” 

[callivich]

This took me a while because I am terrible at coming up with prompts, but I wish you would write a fic where, Lip and Mickey acknowledge that they are friends and are important to each other. 🖤👬 I loved your post-anniversary fic and I just need more mickey & lip content!

Aww, thank you so much, I’m so glad you enjoyed the post-anniversary fic. So, here’s a little sequel to that, set the morning after:

(This is canon-divergent as I’m changing it so either Frank doesn’t die or they aren’t informed until after this.)

————

Lip (8:42am): need me to come and get one of you to pick up the ambulance?

Mickey frowns at the message on his phone that had woken him up. It’s too early for this. Ian is, of course, already awake and….changing into his running clothes? Ugh. “Your brother texted.” Mickey mumbles, watching Ian pull on a t-shirt.

“You’re awake.” Ian smiles at him and throws himself on top of Mickey, kissing him softly. “Happy first day of our second year of marriage.”

“Mmm, yeah. Same to you. You seriously going on a run?” He hooks his fingers into the waistband of Ian’s shorts and begins to pull them down.

“Yeah, only because I thought you’d want to sleep for longer. Was gonna come back, wake you up nice and slow and then-”

“Well I’m awake now, no thanks to Lip.”

Ian fumbles for his own phone, smiling as Mickey’s hands go lower, he reads the message that Lip had sent to both of them. “I’ll go.”

“Nah, man, go run. I’ll pick up the ambulance. Haven’t got any pick-ups till 11, so,” he smacks Ian’s ass, “we can start this second year of marriage off with a bang. Literally.” He wiggles his eyebrows and bites his lip.

Ian smirks at Mickey’s cheesy line and kisses him, “Sounds good,” before rolling off him, and pulling his shorts back up. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Don’t shower when you get back. I like it when you’re all sweaty.”

Ian laughs as he leaves. Mickey grins as he thinks of the fun they’ll be having later.

————

Grabbing his phone, he fires off a quick text to Lip - (8:50): meet you out front in half an hour?

Lip (8:50): k

Mickey showers quickly, pulling on a pair of jeans and one of Ian’s hoodies, and drinking the cup of coffee Ian had left him on the counter in the kitchen - next to a note that says ‘🖤 love you :) 🖤’ Fucking dork, Mickey thinks, but he smiles and shoves the note in his pocket.

Lip is already waiting for Mickey when he makes it outside. In the past, he would dread spending any amount of time alone with Lip. But as he slides into the passenger seat, he finds that he doesn’t feel as annoyed as he usually does and Lip’s stupid smirking face doesn’t make him want to throw a punch. Maybe it’s the promise of sex with his husband that has put him in a good mood? Or maybe he doesn’t hate Lip as much as he thinks? Nah, that can’t be right.

“Morning. Surprised it’s you up this early and not Ian. Thought you’d be worn out after last night?” Lip begins the drive towards the Southside, his fingers tapping on the wheel.

“You really wanna know if I’m too tired after getting railed by your little brother?”

“Mickey.” Lip groans, “Fuck no. I was asking if you were hungover. You were wasted.”

“Oh. Nah. M’fine. Ian’s gone for a run. He was gonna let me sleep in but you woke me up with that text.”

“Hazard of having a baby, you forget everyone else isn’t awake at the crack of dawn everyday.”

Mickey shrugs, and they fall into a comfortable silence, and he notices that he’s still not feeling that familiar sense of annoyance that he usually does with Lip. He’s definitely going soft. Ian’s fault probably. He supposes that Lip has been alright recently - helping with the wedding anniversary as though it was no big deal, acting like it was normal that Mickey had asked him for help. There were no sarcastic comments or dirty looks like Mickey was intruding in the Gallagher family. No, he just asked what he could do and helped round up the other siblings to help too. He treated Mickey like he was part of the family. Even Mickey can reluctantly admit that. Even if it is through gritted teeth.

“Thanks for…y’know, driving us home last night and helping me organise the party.” Mickey is staring out the window, his voice low. He doesn’t know why he’s saying this, but he knows Ian would like that he did. And maybe there’s a tiny part of him that likes that he can say this and it doesn’t feel awful. “Especially after that…uh…fight.”

————

Mickey’s words take Lip by surprise and he’s speechless for a moment. He supposes this is as close to an apology as Mickey would ever give him. And to be fair, Lip knows he needs to say sorry too. But he realises he can’t quite say it either. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. And it won’t happen again.”

Mickey snorts, “Don’t know how you can be sure of that.”

“Well, Ian said - and I quote - ‘hit my husband again, I’ll fucking kill you’. So. Yeah, ain’t gonna happen again. At least from my end. And he’s right. Shouldn’t be getting into it like that with family.”

Mickey is silent for a moment, sneaking a quick glance at Lip. “He said that?”

“Yup.”

“Ok. Then, yeah, I won’t hit you again.” He says it easily, with a firm nod. “Probably. If you don’t do anything to piss me off.”

Lip rolls his eyes, “Yeah, because it’s me who’s the annoying fucker.”

“Glad you can admit that.”

And he can’t believe it, but he genuinely laughs at that. Lip can count on one hand the times he actually found Mickey funny. Most of the time he thinks he’s a dick, but lately….well, there’s been moments when he’s not been that bad and, dare he say it, he’s actually not minded being around Mickey. Sure, these have also been countered by moments when he absolutely wants to kill him but there are less and less of those. He must be adjusting to the fact that they’re family now - Mickey’s not some scary, dirty kid from the neighbourhood anymore, he’s not just Mandy’s brother, he’s Ian’s husband. He’s Lip’s brother-in-law. And that means something. So, yeah, he’s gonna treat him like a brother, like family. (As much as he can that is, because Lip isn’t a saint and sometimes Mickey really is very fucking annoying.) But he’s gonna try. That’s the important thing. And it seems like Mickey is going to try too.

“You’re a dick.”

“Yeah, well, got a reputation to uphold. Can’t let you think I’ve gone fucking soft or some shit.”

“Wouldn’t ever think in a million years that the guy who planned a romantic surprise anniversary party for his husband with accordion music and dancers was soft.”

“Fuck off.” But there’s no heat in his words, he’s just got a pleased look on his face. Probably thinking back to the night before.

————

They get stuck in traffic - due to roadworks where there seems to be less work and more standing around going on. Mickey checks his phone and scrolls through the pictures he took last night, that get steadily and steadily blurrier as the night goes on. It really was a great night. He feels his face flush in happiness just thinking about it. He can’t wait to get home.

Lip is tapping his fingers on the steering wheel again, Mickey notices he looks tired. He thinks back to Lip’s admission that he’d slipped up and had beer, and wonders if he’s had another slip. He could ask him straight out, Ian probably would, but that feels like a step too far. So he decides to hint at it.

“Everything alright with you and Tami?”

“Oh, yeah, you know….just a lot going on.”

“Right.” He shifts in his seat, glances towards his brother-in-law, and sighs. “Yeah, lot of difficult shit going on. Stressful shit.”

Mickey thinks he’s going to have to say it but apparently it’s obvious what he’s thinking. Lip stops tapping the steering wheel. “You fishing to see if I want a drink?”

“Do you?”

“I….sometimes. A bit. I’m going to meetings so.” He shrugs, avoiding Mickey’s eyes.

“Tami know?”

“Sort of.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“There’s just been so much going on. We’ve kinda talked but not properly.”

The traffic starts to move and soon they are almost at the Alibi. “Talking…communicating. All that shit, it fucking sucks but it’s important.” Mickey feels awkward talking to Lip like this, but strangely it doesn’t feel too uncomfortable. “Don’t put it off, it’ll be worse the longer you wait.”

“I know.” Lip pulls up in front of the ambulance. “Thanks.”

“Whatever.” He peers at Lip cautiously. “You’re not gonna tell me you love me again are you?”

“Was hoping you might not remember that considering how drunk you were last night.”

“You’re soft as hell. I’d stick around to make fun of you but I gotta hot date with my husband.” He moves to get out the car, “Thanks for the ride, man.” He gives Lip the finger and a cheeky smile as he walks over to the ambulance, shouting “see ya!” over his shoulder.

—————

For the ask meme: I wish you would write a fic where….

[ichorai]

sin to win ; k.sj

requested by anon (50 + angel au) for my milestone celebration !!

pairing ; angel!jin x demon!reader (gender-neutral) ft. boxer!jungkook

summary ; an angel and a demon are forced to put aside their differences to help out the same human.

themes ; fantasy, action, comedy, angel au, demon au, boxer au

words ; 1.4k

warnings / includes ; fighting / boxing, cursing, one mention of murder and jail (but nothing of the sorts in the fic), reader is an annoying lil shit KWJLKSDJF, jin is basically a concerned parent bye, jungkook is an emotional n reckless boxer yikes

a/n ; for ficscafe's au pairing event :D i used #5 !! writing this fic made me realize i write this kind of dynamic all the fucking time but i'm not ashamed bcs writing bickering is super fun KWJDKJF

masterlist.

“You’re a nuisance,” Jin hissed out as he flicked his fingers, the boxer’s laces you had just untied lifting into the air and knotting themselves neatly. “I thought you were supposed to be helping the poor guy.”

One of your shoulders lifted in a half-shrug. “Tripping once or twice never hurt anybody.”

The guardian angel rounded on you, bristling. His opal-aureate wings fluttered with the sudden movement. “That’s exactly how people get hurt. Now stop mucking around, the match is starting.”

Your eyes rolled to the dim pipes crisscrossing the ceiling of the underground boxing arena. The large room was filled with people surrounding the make-shift ring, their deafening cheers making the cheap plaster walls quiver.

“You know, what we’re doing may be illegal but at least you look amazing. You look like this all the time?” Your charming (at least, you thought it was charming) compliment received all but crickets in response. Though, you were pretty sure you saw his pretty lips twitch a bit. Whether it was into a frown or a smile, you didn’t need to know. “I’d never expect an angel to be willing to cheat in order to help their human out. Doesn’t that go against one of your billions of rules?”

With an exasperated glare, Jin scoffed out, “I’m merely protecting my mortal. I wouldn’t intervene unless necessary. This is necessary.”

“Awh, are you afraid little Jungkook is gonna get a boo-boo?”

The beautiful angel that stood just centimeters away from you didn’t grace you with a response. You grinned at him smugly.

“Well, you’re right to be afraid. Skullcrusher here has won every single match since ‘89. He’s not known to leave his contender in tip-top shape, if you catch my drift. I used to be a big fan. Now? A little bored, if I had to admit. Jungkook winning will create enough chaos to keep me satisfied for a while.” You chuckled, slinging your elbow over Jin’s shoulder, to which he moved away with an irritated side-glance.

The shrill ringing of the red bell signified the start of the match. Skullcrusher, a burly man with a missing eye and more scars than you could count, loomed over Jungkook in the ring. His clenched fist looked bigger than his opponent’s whole torso. His tough features were fixed into a hard, gnarled expression. This man looked as if he’s seen war a million times. In stark juxtaposition, Jungkook stood on the opposite end of the ring, fists raised but raw carmine terror painted across his features. If you looked extra close, you could see his bare shins tremble. Way to play it cool, kiddo.

“I think it’s pretty fucking hot that you’re getting your hands dirty,” you whispered whilst leaning closer to Jin. “I’ve been around for eons, but never have I ever met an angel like you.”

“Stop, I’m blushing,” he replied dryly. He wasn’t blushing, nor were angels really capable of such a feat.

Both of your attentions diverted from each other to the ring, where the first punch was thrown. Jungkook managed to lithely duck out of the way, sliding along the barriers and throwing a jab of his own against the larger man’s abdomen. That must’ve hurt no more than a tiny flick would’ve.

Both of you yelled at the same time.

“You’re doing awful!”

“You’re doing great, Jungkook!”

A bark of a laugh escaped you. “Don’t give him false hope. That shit is poisonous in this industry.”

“He’s not doing so bad,” Jin said, just as Skullcrusher landed a bone-snapping strike against your boxer’s shoulder. “Okay, yeah, fine. But he still needs encouragement.”

“Now or never, angel,” you whistled in a sing-song tone, red magic forming between your fingers. “Your human won’t last much longer in there.”

Gritting his perfect teeth, Jin nodded once. “Do it.”

With a maliciously delighted smirk, you murmured an incantation under your breath. Jin watched in baited interest as Skullcrusher paused in his furious blunder towards his mortal, singular eye turning red. He dropped his fists, an expression mimicking one of a kicked puppy splaying across his rugged visage. Well, as close as a man like that could look like a kicked puppy. Jin turned to look at you, observing the way your own irises were now stained with rose petals, hair floating in the air slightly as your fingers twitched, lips moving whilst susurrating a mantra of sin.

You were beautiful, but you were also deadly. It was hard to remind himself that he was meant to stay well away from you. Jin had to pry his eyes away to make sure he wasn’t staring too long.

Whilst you were keeping the burly man under control, Jin snapped his fingers and fixed his human’s broken shoulder.

The boxer, slightly miffed as to why Skullcrusher wasn’t going absolutely feral and just how his shoulder suddenly stopped buzzing with pure agony, shrugged it all aside and seized the opportunity to land a parade of jabs and punches against his exposed skin. One after another, it sent Skullcrusher toppling down in a matter of minutes. The ceiling pipes rattled as his head hit the ground. Jungkook didn’t stop, sweat dripping down his forehead, going so far as to play dirty and use his feet to throw kicks with a scarily accurate precision. Man, you liked this mortal.

Jin didn’t seem too pleased.

“Get up!” Jungkook roared, but it was all drowned out by the upset boos of the crowd. They were hoping to see another notch in Skullcrusher’s belt. With a concerned furrow of his brows, the angel beside you used his powers to tug Jungkook’s flailing body away from Skullcrusher. He certainly wouldn’t protect Jungkook from jail if he accidentally murdered somebody, that would just be plain immoral. Judging by the crystal disappointment in your gaze, it was evident that you had wanted Jungkook to carry on with his ministrations. Thankfully, you kept your mouth shut.

Disoriented, the boxer stumbled away from the large body and dodged a flying can of soda thrown at his head. With an angry growl, he ducked out of the ring, ripping his gloves off and rushing out of the arena. What was this, Cinderella? It wasn’t even midnight yet. Jin clapped his hands together to push people out of the way for Jungkook.

“Your mortal is moody,” you hummed in amusement. “He’s fun. Keep him around for me, will you?”

Jin’s golden pupils flickered from you to the green-lit exit, and back to you again. For a moment, he appeared as if he wanted to say something to you, then decided against it.

After a considerable amount of hesitation, Jin cracked his lips open once more. “I’ll be back.” His words rang in your ears and you cocked an inquisitive eyebrow at him. “After that stunt, people are going to be hunting Jungkook down. Once you’ve reached the top, there’s always going to be a million hands pulling you down, after all. I might want to fight fire with fire, is all.”

If you thought Jin couldn’t get anymore handsome than he was before, you were absolutely wrong. He looked wickedly arresting in the dim light, a taste of the fruit you couldn’t have.

Your palms planted themselves on your hips. “Would you look at that,” you drawled with playfully narrowed eyes, “Mister Pure Angel wants to see the morally corrupt devil again, huh? Here, have this. It’s my business card.” You conjured a scarlet piece of cardstock out of thin air and slotted it into his cool palms. The brushing of your warm fingers against his skin sent a jolt down his blemishless wings.

An unamused snort escaped him. “This just says meet me in hell, bitch.”

“Well, that is where I live.” Noting that Jin looked quite peeved at your jesting, you gestured for him to turn the card over. “The back’s got an engraved rune. Tap it seven times and I’ll come to you. Now go back to your human. I think he’s crying behind a dumpster. He reeks of fear.”

The angel nodded once, backing away as he said, “Again, thanks for helping out my mortal. We’re indebted to you.”

“I didn’t do it for you!” you called out to Jin, whose figure was growing smaller and smaller the farther away he walked. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought he was ignoring you. That was absurd, though. “I was just bored, but一and he’s gone.”

A dry laugh danced on your lips. Until next time, ya’ sinful bastard.

[lucky-catttt]

Maxwell Lord’s Aphrodite - Pt 2

Summary: When Maxwell Lord’s world comes crashing down, you, his personal assistant bring him back from the pits of despair.

Pairings: Maxwell Lord x Reader (female), Maxwell Lord x You

Rating: Mature 18+ ONLY, NO MINORS ALLOWED TO READ.

Word Count: 3,885

Warnings: Prepare to put a towel down or go touch some grass after, either or LOL Mention of genitals, oral sex, squirting, face fucking, choking, names, foreplay, degradation, aftercare, BDSM, sexism/sexual harrassment.

A/N: This is my first fan-fic, so the writing might not be fantastic, but if you have any pointers/advice please tell me! I’ve also added images and gifs to help readers imagine the scenarios and reactions!

“So what kind of proposal were we thinking of that would save Black Gold corporation?” Max quizzes, leaning back against his chair. You pause to think while finishing your pastry. “Well” you begin “This space is huge, around 4,300 square feet. The lease Black Gold is renting this office floor has no major restrictions on it, so you could potentially sub-let the space on the floor for a monthly or fixed term lease to people who work remotely or teams that don’t want to commit to a larger office space. It's becoming more common because of the GFC, people can't commit to large long term leases for whole office floors anymore. You could also rent out the boardroom by the hour & also lease the private manager offices to businesses that want their own private room. And we already have a reception near the lifts, just re-hire them and make them pretend they work for all the businesses on the floor, answering their calls, doing admin work like scanning and faxing etc. As far as the business’s clients that show up are concerned, each business looks like they own the whole floor.

If we do a cost analysis and then get a small investor to cover the startup costs, we could guarantee them a return if businesses pay contract deposits or pay their lease in advance up front. Plus the landlord we owe money to. And with the top floor with amazing views and location, we can charge top dollar” Max stares at you in disbelief. “Wow, are you sure you don’t wanna be CEO?” He laughs, still in shock. You laugh, blushing. “I started working on a business proposal for one of my university assessments, if we customise it for this project we could pitch it to some investors and banks and speak to the landlord about it as well” You reply. “I could kiss you right now.” Maxwell sighs, gripping his fist. “Please do” you giggle, leaning towards him. Max reaches out both hands to cup your face, before planting a passionate kiss on your lips. “Well, I guess we have a lot of work to do!” Max yells, before striding towards the bathroom to take a shower. Two weeks go by and the proposal is ready. Max calls you from the company car, on the way to your house to pick you up before the big investors meeting. “I’ll be right outside your place in a few minutes my sweet” He coos, beaming with excitement to see you. As his car pulls up, you collect your compendium, presentation cards and your pointer rod. Struggling with all you have to carry, Alfred rushes out of the car and up the steps to the front door, collecting all of your belongings. 

Maxwell peers over the top of his shades but the sun from behind your house blinds him. He shuffles across the seat and opens the car door, the sun now hiding from his view. As he removes his shades and looks up the stairs towards your front door, he sees you standing there, fixing your outfit. He’s stunned. 

It might be 1984, but you’re wearing a stunning outfit pulled straight from the 50s. A black suit dress with a pleat in the front with a thin gold belt around your waist. You accented the look with strap Mary jane heels, a black and gold handbag and a neat beret fascinator. Your hair was curled, accentuated with bright red lipstick and a single set of pearl earrings.

Max looks like he’s about to drop to his knees in awe, but his knees bend into a lengthy stride up the stairs, rushing to your side. “A heavenly vision of beauty'' Max gasps, giving you a kiss on the cheek in an attempt to preserve your makeup. He puts out his arm and you wrap your hands around it, as he leads you down your stairs to the car, staring at you the whole time, letting the universe guide his steps as this absolute goddess graces his presence. You both slide into the back seat of Max’s company car, his large hand immediately passing along your back and resting on your hip and ass, pulling you as close to him as possible. “I dont know how this presentation is going to go, but I can be absolutely certain that myself and every other person in that room will be enraptured by your presence”. he murmurs into your neck, squeezing your ass.

Max was wearing a pinstripe royal blue suit with black laced oxfords. His matching tie and pocket square peeking out. “I would kiss you right now but i don't want to get lipstick on your face just before our meeting” you blush, rubbing your nose against his. “I know. We have all the time in the world after” Max replies, running his nose down your neck, breathing gently against your skin.

 “We should probably prepare for the meeting, Max” you chuckle, seeing the office building not far up the road. You pull out your compendium and flip to an architectural blueprint of the office floor. 

“I had this drawn up by an architectural drafter last week. As you can see the large blank space is your office and private room, you already have the glass frosted for privacy. All the other office cubicles will be converted to private offices, as well as boardrooms, co-working areas and remote working hot spots.” Max’s eyes widen with surprise at the level of detail. “How did you get this done? I certainly don't remember commissioning this'' rubbing his chin. “I paid for it” you respond, nonchalantly. “You spent your money, for me?” Max inquires, now in disbelief. “Of course. I told you I would help you, Max. Consider it an investment”. You wink, flipping through more pages of the presentation. Just when Max thought he couldn't fall more in love with you than he already has, your hard work and giving nature makes his heart swell even larger to make room. After a few minutes the car pulls up to the investor’s office building. “Before we go in there, I want to ask you something.” Your eyes widen with intrigue. “While we're there, I’m not sure how these businessmen will react to a woman being anything more than my personal assistant. I’m not intimidated by you at all, but I suspect some of them might be” He continues, his eyes falling to your lap as he holds your hands. “Max, this project is my dream, but it’s your company, so i’m giving it to you to present. You’re the only person I trust with this”. 

As Maxwell begins to get himself together, you take a seat adjacent to where Max is standing. Although your knees are together with one ankle behind the other, you can feel some of the businessmen closest to you looking you up and down like a piece of meat. You quickly turn to face Max, giving him your undivided attention. “Well, I know you’re all very busy, so lets get started” Max smiles, wringing his palms together. The businessmen listen intently to Max’s pitch for the restructure of Black Gold corporation, before they begin to ask questions on financials. You begin to notice the men losing interest and Max starting to lose his confidence. He looks at you, his expression half pleading and half embarrassed. Without any hesitation, you stand up from your chair, striding over to Max’s side, picking up the pointing rod from the easel and pulling it to full length with one swift pull. 

The men all sit upright at attention from the sound of the rod. “If I may, Maxwell” you butt in, politely. “Gentleman” You steady the pointer rod against the chart on the easel “the profit figures on the project are as follows; 36 external view offices, charged at $3,000 per month each, generating $108,000 gross profit. The 25 internal offices with no view will be $500 per month, generating $12,500. We also have hot-desks with memberships starting at $20 per month. If companies want us to answer their phones, do their mail, bring them coffee, do their shopping, take their dry-cleaning, walk their dogs or bring them lunch, that's an additional fee. Essentially, we are looking at a monthly profit turnover of $150,000+. Our current lease fee is $50,000 a month with about $15,000 in body corporate and utilities, leaving $85,000 per month net profit, $225 thousand per quarter and over a million annually. We currently are looking for a combined setup cost of around $500,000. The more you invest, the bigger your return.” You swing the pointer road and rest it on your shoulder. 

Silence fills the room and you panic. Your assertiveness may have turned them off, so you pretend to be ditzy and dip one of your feet inwards. The men who are all sitting up at attention, look between each other and nod. Your charm and business acumen seemed to have put them under some kind of spell. “Thanks for your time gentleman. If you have any questions please feel free to call” you finish, walking around to hand each of them Max’s business card. The men begin to chat amongst themselves, before one of them approaches Maxwell. They introduce themselves and begin chatting about the pitch “You should be very proud of your assistant Maxwell” they chuckle “she seems very switched on and driven”. Max shoots you a smiling glance, before turning back “Yeah, I’m actually going to make her the CFO” he responds. “Well, we’ll deliberate here and be back in touch with our offer”. The meeting finally wraps up and you both head back downstairs where Alfred is waiting with the car door already open. You both slide inside and Max wraps his arms around you before passionately kissing your lips as the car drives back to his office.

“You want to make me the.. CFO?” you pant, breaking from the kiss. “Yes” Max smiles, staring into your eyes. “You have worked so hard and today at the presentation..I know you’re the woman for the job. Do you want it?” You blush, holding his face “Well how can I say no?”. The company car finally pulls up back at the office and you both head through the lobby and into the lift. Max stands behind you with his arms wrapped around you and his head on your shoulder, talking about the enormous amount of work that will potentially need to be done if this deal goes through. As the lift doors open into the reception area, you both step out and Max hears the phone in his office start to ring. You give him an excited smile, encouraging him to go take the call in private. He begins striding through the empty office before making it to his office, pushing the doors open and heading over to his desk.

You take your time walking back to his office, giving Max time to finish his phone call. As you approach his office doors, you hear the click of the receiver as he hangs up. You watch Max’s shadow behind the frosted glass walk up to the doors and swing them open, a neutral look on his face. You look puzzled, thinking it was bad news before he burst out laughing with a smile, swinging you over his shoulder and carrying you to his bedroom. “You did it baby!” He yells, slapping your backside before throwing you both down onto the bed. “We did!?” you scream, a wave of relief and excitement washing over you. “Yes! I’m so proud of you. You saved Black Gold corporation. You saved me.” Max smiles, brushing a lock of curls away from your face before cupping your cheek and passionately kissing you. 

You kick off your shoes, belt and take off your beret fascinator as Max removes his suit jacket, suspenders and belt, before kissing each other again. “I was so turned on by you today” Max moans, writhing his hands all over your body, before ripping the bust of your dress open, the two buttons pinging off onto the carpet. “Watching your voluptuous ass in that dress walking into that boardroom and how you commanded the room’s attention, took control and sealed the deal. I wanted to put you over that boardroom table and worship you like the goddess you are. But I guess I can do that now”. Something about wearing your favourite suit of his, the unwavering progressive support of women and eagerness to pleasure you unlocks your most ravenous sexual desires. You stop Max, sitting up at the foot of the bed. He gets up from laying down and looks at you, worried he said or did something wrong. “Whats wrong my love?” he asks, looking concerned. ****MAJOR SMUT WARNING AHEAD**** “Max… you’ve shown me the romantic love making version which was so beautiful, but I want to make you feel worshipped” Max gives you an interesting glance. “You’re such a giving person but I want to give back. You’ve suffered neglect and mistreatment most of your life. I want to give you a different kind of passionate sex. I have fantasies and wild ideas that I think will give you immense pleasure. I want you to….” You stop yourself, not sure how he will react. Max's eyes widened with intrigue. “Go on?” Max squeezes your hand. “Well” you begin. The passionate fire is burning hotter and hotter within you. “I want you…” you hitch up your skirt and sit across Max’s lap, with one leg over each side “to straddle my chest and fuck my throat while I rub my clit” you get closer to Max’s face, pulling on his tie “And I want to cum while you’re throat fucking and choking me with your cock” you begin to undo his tie “And then I want you to cum in the back of my throat and make me swallow it”. There’s dead silence, so you bat your eyelash extensions, throwing a sexy yet innocent gaze followed by “hmmm?”. Max’s mind goes completely blank, the blood rushing from every inch of his body straight to his cock, which you feel hardened against your crotch as you straddle him. “Uhh wow honey that sounds very dangerous.” Max chokes, embarrassed he's getting turned on at the idea of hurting you. 

“For you or me?” You giggle, biting your lip. “For you” Max says, wrapping his arms around you. “Are you sure that’s something you want me to do to you Hermosa?”. “Yes Maxwell. I love the way you worship and pleasure me, but I want you to feel the same way. I have a kink when it comes to being dominated. Seeing my man so turned on and using his strength and body to please himself using me, makes me feel incredible. I know you would never hurt me, it’s something I would love for you to experience” You answer before kissing his neck. “You really are too good to me, princessa” Max sighs, running his hands down your back to your ass, squeezing both cheeks. “Of course, we don’t have to if you don’t want to, Max” you give him a reassuring look, worried you might have overstepped. “No baby, I’d love to, if that’s what will bring you the most pleasure” He coos, kissing your neck.

You begin to take off your dress, revealing under a black and gold laced lingerie set. “Black and Gold” you chuckle, watching Max’s eyes widen at the level of detail. “How did I get so lucky?” Max pants, pulling off his shirt and pants, leaving his boxers to contain his rock hard cock. You go to reach for Max’s crotch when his hand stops you. “Before we do this” Max begins “I want you to stop me at any time if it hurts or you can’t breathe or you just don’t want to do it anymore. That is the most important thing to me”. You nod and smile at Max, leaning in to kiss him, before your hands start to remove his boxers.

You reach down and begin to tease his cock, tracing your fingers tips against the tip. With your other hand you guide Max’s hand down, placing it at the top of your panties. As he starts to put his hands under your panties, he notices there’s a hole in them. Max stops to inspect. “Crotchless panties? Me vuelves loco” Max pants before he begin kissing and biting all over your body.

You’re in for it now. Like a virus, you’ve taken over Max’s brain, flooding it with animalistic desire and passion. A switch has been flipped and hell bent on blowing your mind, leaving all of his inhibitions and reservations about what he’s about to do to you at the door. Max climbs on top of you, wrapping his large hand around your throat, gently squeezing as you gasp for air. “Is this what you want?” He growls into your ear, nibbling on your earlobe before kissing down your neck. You manage to nod before moaning, indicating that you’re enjoying it. He’s never treated a woman like this before, but he manages to find the personality and words seemingly from thin air, like it was repressed all this time. “Start touching yourself for me now” Max commands. You slide your hand down into your panties and start rubbing your clit, sparks flying through your body and the slick now leaking out of your pussy. He groans at the sight of you touching yourself. Max moves up the bed before straddling over your chest. With your head propped up on some pillows, you look in Max’s eyes and ready your mouth and jaw for his throbbing cock. Max thumbs your bottom lip before grabbing just under your jaw to keep your face steady. “Open wide like the good little whore that you are” he hisses, smacking the tip of his precum soaked cock on your face.

The degrading name only makes you wetter, as you furiously rub your clitoris whilst pinned under Max’s legs. You moan as Max pushes his cock into your mouth and down your throat. “Oh my god my love your mouth feels incredible” Max moans, his character from before severely altered by the pleasurable sensation. He realises his mistake and compensates by pushing his cock as far as it will fit into your mouth and throat. “That’s it, take it all” he smirks, exhaling with a moan. You use two fingers to scoop up some of your slick and rub it into your clitoris, which is now super sensitive. Your stifled moans humming against Max’s veiny cock cause it to twitch. With your hips bucking from pleasuring yourself, Max takes both of his hands and puts them on your cheeks. “Fuck your mouth feels so good” Max moans, slowly thrusting back and forth out of your mouth, his cock touching your uvula and causing you to gag with each stroke. Your eyes begin to roll back in your skull as you continue to moan & choke, your swollen clitoris edging closer and closer to orgasm. “You like this huh? You like it when Daddy fills your throat up and fucks it?” Max hisses, wrapping your hair in between his fingers, gripping hard as his thrusts gain more momentum. Thick strings of spit is now spilling out of your mouth, down your chin and onto your breasts. “You look

The taste of Max’s precum coating the back of your tongue. You’re fighting to contain your orgasm but Max’s cock and brutal punishing words are sending you dangerously close to the edge. “Mmmmm, mmmmm!” You choke, tears welling in your eyes as you’re trying to nod and send Max a pleasured innocent gaze, driving him wild. You concentrate on breathing through your nose, each time Max’s cock leaves the back of your throat for a split second, giving you enough time to take in air. You decide to start moving your flattened tongue against the shaft, rubbing against the tip as it passes back and forth. Max let’s out a groan “You’re such a good little putá for papá”. There’s no holding back now, you increase your moans to signal that you’re on the precipice of an orgasm. “Cum for me” Max hisses, continuing the ecstasy inducing tempo of thrusts into your mouth and throat. You continue to rub your clit and gesture for Max to keep his cock still inside your mouth and throat for this moment, riding the crashing wave of your orgasm, squirting furiously onto your legs and sheets below. The writhing and shaking of your body underneath him, the sound of your squirting and muffled cries and moans from behind his cock is too much and brings him closer much faster than he ever anticipated. The eye-watering sensation causes the tears to flow down your cheeks, causing your mascara to run.

As your orgasm begins to subside you gesture for Max to continue thrusting, which he does as he moves his large hands to cup your face. “That felt fucking amazing” Max moans, continuing his fast and hard strokes. Your gaze, burning with passion and framed within smudged running eyeliner locks with Max’s, his domineering yet still showing affection. “I’m gonna cum” Max pants, keeping the pace as his grip on your face grows tighter. “Fuckkkk!!!” He shouts, holding your head still as he holds one final thrust as far in as it will go. Your eyes roll back into your head again as you feel the warm thick ropes of cum spurt onto the back of your throat. It was lucky you had taken a large enough breath before that moment, enough to sustain you for the few seconds Max held his cock still inside your mouth, throbbing and pulsing as he moans and shudders, cursing in Spanish. Coming back to reality, Max immediately pulls his softening cock from your mouth and wraps his large hands on the top and bottom of your face, closing your jaw shut. “Now Swallow” he commands, bending down so that his face inches from yours. With a cheeky gaze you oblige and swallow the remains of his cum tangled in your throat, before opening your jaw to allow him to inspect if there was any left. “My good little leche putá” he whispers, before spitting in your wide open mouth.

As if like breaking character on a movie set, Max immediately reverts back to his original self, climbing off to the side to lay next to you. “Was that good for you my love? How do you feel?” Max asks, worried he’s harmed your physical and mental state. “Incredible” you pant, smiling, lying in a pool of your own squirt. Breathing a sigh of relief, Max quickly brings up the blankets to cover you both, embracing you and peppering your spit, mascara and tear soaked face with kisses. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Max quizzes, checking your chest and throat over. “No” you reply, your throat somewhat hoarse. “Okay good. I love you so much” Max sighs, brushing your hair out of your face and kissing your forehead. “I love you too, Max”.

————————

I got impatient and wanted to post it now so I guess this chapter is finished 💀

@anaaaispunk @mandoalorian @pintsizemama

[aka-ashi-keiji]

“i can’t hear you”

Bakugou Katsuki x best friend reader

soft angst

tw: screaming, emotional meltdown.

short fic about bakugou and you’re his childhood best friend, and you help him through dealing with his hearing loss. enjoy lovies.

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

You woke up to the sound of your mother knocking on your door and yelling, “y/n wake up, you have training today with katsuki. i love that boy but i am not in the mood to deal with his explosive attitude over you being late .” You lived right next door to katsuki all your life and since your moms were best friends, you guys were best friends since you learned how to walk. Every saturday you guys would train from 8 AM to noon in his garage since it was basically a mini gym, and then after you both would head over to your house. You checked the time on your phone on the bedside table and it read 7:50. “SHIT MOM WHY DIDN’T YOU WAKE ME UP SOONER” you yelled as you jumped out of bed and quickly found a black tank top and grey sweatpants to train in. You could hear your mom chuckling as she walked away from your door. You grabbed your headphones, phone, water bottle, and Nike’s before yelling a goodbye and dashing over to Katsuki’s front yard. 

You knocked on his door four times so that his family knew it was you. You were halfway through slipping your shoes on when Mitsuki answered. She yawned and pulled you into a side hug. “Good morning y/n, you hungry?” She asked as she closed the door behind you guys and started towards the kitchen. “No thanks Mitsuki, I don’t like to train on a full stomach. My mom is making a huge lunch though, you guys are welcome to join us.” You said cheerfully, but kept your voice low since it was very early and you could tell Katsuki’s mom was still half asleep. She nodded and then whipped her head to face you wearing a look on her face as if she had just remembered something very important. “Kat has been very on edge lately and not very responsive this week.” She paused before starting again and turned her gaze to the floor, almost as if she didn’t want to talk. “I think it might have to do with his hearing. He won’t admit it, but I think his quirk is finally starting to affect him. Good thing we put him in those sign language classes as a precaution.” she laughed dryly and then turned back to look at you. “Just, take it easy him with the teasing today okay? and maybe try speaking a little louder. I’ll go see if he’s ready” and with that she gathered herself up the stairs and disappeared. 

You thought silently as you waited, and all of a sudden it made sense. Lately at school bakugou has been yelling more than usual, and telling everyone to speak louder. Maybe he was yelling more to be able to hear himself? You didn’t know. Bakugou has been learning sign language since he was 7 years old as a precaution for this and has been regularly signing while he talks since he was 10. So, bakugou using his sign language all the time wasn’t uncommon, but maybe Mitsuki was right. You made a mental note not to say anything until you actually noticed a big change in your guys’ training. You waited patiently for about another 10 minutes before Katsuki finally came downstairs. 

“Hey idiot, nice outfit.” Katsuki greeted you in his groggy morning voice, his hands signing his words lazily. You looked down at the tank top and sweatpants you were wearing and looked back to him, you both were wearing the same exact thing. “Morning pom pom” you greeted back as you gathered your things and started to head towards the garage. You turned around to see bakugou staring into nothing, so you called out. “Hey kat, you coming?” No response. You repeated yourself, but this time loud enough you were sure you woke his dad. He whipped his head towards you and nodded before following along. As you were walking down the hall, you turned to him and asked, “You okay?” while signing your words. Katsuki looked down at your hands and his cheeks started to dust with the lightest shade of pink. He huffed and his red eyes sparked as he just growled out a ���yeah’ and walked ahead of you into the garage, starting to set up for your session. You yourself had picked up sign language at a young age because your dad was deaf because his quirk was being able to shoot sonic booms from his hands. you pressed the button to open the garage door and let some light in. You then walked over to the speakers and plugged your phone in as you hit play on your playlist specifically for training days. Bakugou stopped setting up the bench press station and yelled, “Can you turn it up? “ as he signed quickly, but then went back to putting the weights together. You turned back to the speaker only to be surprised since the volume was already almost at max capacity. You shook your head and turned the volume all the way up. This session should be interesting. 

It was around 9:30 AM at this point and you and Kat had finished weights and went on a 2 mile run. You were currently sitting on the floor stretching your quads as the loud techno music boomed around you. You glanced over at katsuki who was stretching on the other side of the garage and he seemed to be in a whole other universe. You called out to him, but he didn’t do so much as flinch. You picked yourself up off the floor and slowly walked towards him. You called a few more times and still got nothing from him, so you decided to turn off the music. As soon as you did Katsuki’s head shot up and his eyes darted towards you. “What the hell was that for dipshit? We’re gonna start sparring soon, we need it.” He said/yelled at you while you sauntered over to him and took a seat about a foot away from his now steaming body. You wiped the sweat from your forehead with the back of your arm before talking to katsuki, well you didn’t exactly talk with your voice, you were mostly signing. “Katsuki are you sure you’re okay? You’re not responding when I call out for you.” You waited for his response as his eyes stayed on your hands that were once moving. This time he answered, but for some reason he didn’t sign. “If I tell you, you can’t tell a single soul you hear me dumbass? Not even my parents. “ You nodded your head and gently reach over to squeeze his hand four times, your guys’ way of saying I promise. He then began to talk, and signed very aggressively as he did so, and what he said was enough to shatter you into a million pieces. 

 “I’ve been struggling in a way lately,” he started, “I tried to cover it up by just yelling all the time hoping people would just think it was my normal behavior. But, really it was so i could he hear myself.” Katsuki let out a long breath and you could see his hands slightly shaking. “It started out last week as just a slight ringing, but it got louder every damn day. But, this week the ringing got quieter, and eventually everything around me started to sound like I was underwater. “ He looked up at you and your breath hitched, tears rolled down katsuki’s face as he held eye contact. He shook out his hands and took another shakey breath before he began, “I- I can barely hear you y/n! And its so frusturating.” the volume of his voice was rising, and you could see the pain he was feeling through his eyes and the tears that were now dripping down to his shirt. “I can’t hear your fucking voice damnit! It’s the only one that doesn’t drive me up fucking walls.  it terrifies me!” He was screaming at this point as his hands worked through the air to express his words. The tears came at a much quicker pace once he had stopped to breathe, and those tear turned into sobs as he curled in on himself. He tucked his knees to his chest and ducked his head into his arms as they wrapped around his legs. His shoulders and back shook as he cried, and for a moment you didn’t know what to do. You haven’t seen Katsuki cry since you both were 8 years old and he was playing with his quirk and accidently blasted your arm. He started crying as soon as he heard you wail in pain, and the lecture from his mother didn’t help in the slightest. You subconsciously reached up to rest your hand on the scar as you tried to think of what you could say to him.

 Katsuki leveled his head and looked up at you, and slowly reached his hand out, still crying quietly. For a second you didn’t know what he meant, but it soon clicked in your head and you took his hand in yours. you looked at him with teary eyes and signed, “How can i help?” He untucked his legs from his chest and moved closer to you. Then, before you could even register what was happening, Katsuki had his arms around your waist with his head on your shoulder. You froze, it had been quite some time since either of you had needed a hug like this. once your shock had subsided, you brought your hands to rest on his upper back and rubbed soothingly. He began to cry again, which then led to sobs just like they had before. You began to talk, whispering variations of ‘I’m here’ and ‘You don’t have to be scared’, only to remember that he probably can’t hear you. Seeing katsuki as vulnerable as this broke your heart, and single tear fell from your face. Katsuki could feel your jaw muscles moving against the side of his face, so he knew you were talking, but he couldn’t hear you. “I- i- i- I can’t hear! I can’t hear you! Y/n I can’t hear you, fix it please, please I hate this so much!” He screamed into your shoulder which luckily muffled it enough to not draw any attention from the neighbors. He gripped onto your waist tighter as he breathed long and hard breaths. “I’m so scared. I’m terrified of losing you.” He whispered. This had confused you so you gently placed your hands on his shoulders and put a bit of distance between you guys so he could see you signing. “What do you mean you’re gonna lose me? I’m not going anywhere.” You said and waited for his response. He brought his trembling hands up to start signing and began, “I’m scared that if i can’t hear you, I won’t hear you calling me for help when you’re in danger. What kind of hero am I if i can’t even save my best friend?” You took one of his hands in yours and began to sign with your other. “You’re gonna be okay, We’re both gonna get you through this. I know you, and you don’t take shit from no one. And I know damn well you’re not gonna let a little hearing loss get in the way of beating deku.” He laughed slightly at the last statement, and seeing his small smile was like the world coming off of your shoulders. “We’ll take you to the doctor, they’ll help you.” He shook his head at that and his angry glowering returned. “It’s not anything to be embarrassed about. And I’m sure your parents would do anything to help you become the hero you want to be.” You finished your monologue and squeezed his hand four times, promising him you’re not going anywhere. He smiled down at his hand and then brought his other one up to sign, “I love you shithead” and you signed back, “Yeah I know, I love you too Kat”.

 He began to stand up and Katsuki pulled you up with him.  He immediately pulled you into the tightest bear hug possible. No one knew, but Katsuki was the biggest hugger, and it was your favorite thing about him. You released your arms from his waist and he released his hold around your shoulders. You took the sides on his face in your hands, and pointed to your lips as a signal to read your words. He nodded his head, and in a volume Katsuki couldn’t hear, you said, “I can hear you, I can hear you.”. He nodded and smiled the most genuine smile you’d seen out of him in years. “You ready?” he signed, and you answered “for what?”. He smirked and was quiet for a few seconds before shoving you to the side a little and running off towards your house. “Race you!” he yelled, “First one there, is your mom’s favorite you loser.” Kat called again. You smiled and shook your head as you sprinted off after him, remembering this is the Katsuki that will be the #1 hero someday. 

***************************************🌸

[lizardkingeliot]

Fic Writer Questions

tagged by: @lazybakerart thank you! 💖

How many works do you have on AO3?

147 (jfc)

What’s your total AO3 wordcount?

789,230 (i did the math recently and over 400k of this is Queliot fic from the past two and a half years lmaooo)

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

According to my expanded fandom list on ao3 these are the numbers:

Hannibal (TV) (64)

The Magicians (TV) (33)

Supernatural (18)

Queer as Folk (US) (14)

The Exorcist (TV) (13)

The Magicians - Lev Grossman (2)

Vikings (TV) (2)

Historical RPF (1)

Hannibal (TV) RPF (1)

The Walking Dead (TV) (1)

Mænd & høns | Men & Chicken (2015) (1)

Basic Instinct (Movies) (1)

15th Century CE RPF (1)

Hannibal Lecter Tetralogy - Thomas Harris (1)

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

I am going to choose from my Magicians fic only here since it’s what I’m most proud of:

wellspring

time cast a spell on you (but you won't forget me)

as it was

and this is the map of my heart

life fades (but you remain)

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Yes absolutely. Comments are very important to me and I want everyone who takes the time to leave one to know how much I appreciate them. 💖

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

prooooobably throw your shadow over me. there is zero resolution since it’s a missing scene set in late season 3 and, well..... lol. it’s seriously miserable.

Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve ever written?

Just the one Hannigram AU I think???? I have never been super into crossovers tbh.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

lol yes, but it’s been a while???? although i did get one comment on a fic last year that wasn’t technically hate but it put such a bad taste in my mouth it might as well have been. it’s never a good idea to tell someone you don’t like the way they write a character, regardless of your intent. it is okay to simply hit the back button and move on with your day. :)

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

So much. Maybe too much???? Whatever. I really love writing deeply meaningful and descriptive sex that feels like an entire ~experience for my readers.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don’t think so??????

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yep. :)

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes! @lazybakerart and I collaborated on a Hannibal fic years ago and we had so much fun.

What’s your all time favorite ship?

Queliot now and forever. I have never in all my life had my heart completely fucking consumed like this. I’ve written close to a half million words about these bitches since 4x05 aired and I think I’m physically incapable of stopping at this point.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

That season one AU I started writing when season 4 ended that’s an entire 70k mess sitting in a doc I haven’t touched since 2019. There were some really cool ideas in it (including an alternate mosaic timeline that was like a probability spell sorta?????) and I mayyyyy one day incorporate some of it into another fic, but as a whole I simply do not think it’s worth the effort it would take to make it good enough to post.

What are your writing strengths?

I think I write sex and romance well??? Also: conversations, similes, and sensory language.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Last night I had to describe the suspenders Quentin was trying on. I will probably have to spend an entire day editing that paragraph alone. I can go on for pages and pages about this deeply meaningful and emotional shit and then freeze up when I have to get a character dressed or make them move from one room to the next... ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

This is a deeply ironic question for me to answer at the moment because I generally do not do this BUT there’s a moment in the new chapter of a litany of dreams that I’m working on where Eliot says... something. In another language. During a very specific scene. And it just sort of happened???? It’s a term of endearment (that I googled about ten different ways just to make sure I wasn’t fucking it up lmao) and I’m still 50/50 on whether it will make it into the final draft of the chapter but right now every time I think about my heart mayyyybe starts to beat a little faster. Eliot Waugh is a goddamn sap, y’all.

What was the first fandom you ever wrote for?

For this one I will direct you all to this recent tweet of mine lmao...

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

My time cast a spell on you series without a doubt. I am SO PROUD of the work I’ve put into the 200k written for this ‘verse so far. It’s the biggest challenge keeping everything tonally consistent, but so deeply rewarding every time I finish a chapter and read it over and feel like I’ve accomplished just that. I’ve learned so much about my process and who I want to be as a writer from this ‘verse. And I’m so excited about all the messy and emotionally complex stuff I have planned for the remainder of part two. And allllll the other fics I have planned for this ‘verse in the future. 💖

tagging @thelucindac @nellie-elizabeth @akisazame @allegria23 @biblionerd07 @defilerwyrm @imaginedmelody @rubickk7 and anyone else who wants to talk about their fic. 💖

[songtoyou]

Chapter 8: Wine Before Whiskey

Tolerate It

Paring: Modern!Tommy Shelby x Original Female Character

Story Rating: R (No minors should read this fic).

Word Count: 2,827

Warnings: None

Description: Tommy Shelby is the owner and CEO of Shelby Company Limited. Starting out as a Bookmaker, Tommy had big ideas to expand his riches. In the past ten years, the company has grown rapidly to expand its business ventures from bars to producing alcohol, manufacturing motor vehicle parts, and exporting. One of the richest men in Great Britain, Tommy Shelby, has it all. Unfortunately, the death of his wife, Grace, left the multi-millionaire mogul alone and depressed. He needed someone to fulfill his needs and deepest darkest desires.

A/N: I wanted Tommy and Rose to connect on a more personal level in this chapter. I wanted them to become comfortable with each other outside of the bedroom. I don’t want their relationship to be solely about sex. 

I do not permit my work to be posted on any other site without my permission.

Tag list: @owenniasstars​

Wine. A nice tall glass of wine. That is all Rose wanted to cap off the day. She decided not to respond to the text messages from her friends or mother. Rose was not in the mood to come up with some bullshit excuse for being photographed out with Tommy. Also, it was not their business, and she didn’t need to justify anything with an excuse.

With a glass of wine in hand, Rose sat on the couch in the living room with her feet up. As Rose flipped through the television, the front door opened and slammed shut.

When Rose saw Louis rush up the stairs, she called out to him, “Hey, Louis!” He ignored her. Sighing, Rose got up to follow her son upstairs.

“Louis,” she spoke through the door while knocking. “Is everything okay?” Still nothing. “Louis, honey, what is wrong? From the way you slammed the front door, you seem upset. Did something happen at school today?”

Louis opened his bedroom door to come face-to-face with his mother. “Did something happen at school today,” he said mockingly. “How about the fact that my mother was photographed out with a rumored gangster. Or the fact that some of my classmates are referring to you as one of Tommy Shelby’s whores. You know he has been rumored to date escorts mom. Did you not know when you first started seeing him? In fact, how did you even meet him in the first place?”

Shifting from one foot to the other, Rose looked down at the floor. She was too embarrassed to meet her son’s accusatory gaze. “All of that stuff, the rumors about Tommy, are just that, rumors.” Rose felt sick lying to her son. “And Tommy isn’t a gangster. He is a businessman.”

“That is not what I hear. There is a whole sub-Reddit about how he really earned his millions. I should show it to you. Maybe it would rethink your association with the man,” Louis rambled on. “How did you get introduced to him anyway? It isn’t like you both run in the same social circle.”

Rose sat down on the bed and drew her knees up. It was her way of buying time to formulate a believable response, or rather lie. Thankfully, she had already thought up different scenarios that would be the most believable.

“Do you remember that business trip I took with Linda back in March? It was to a conference up in Birmingham, the educators and practitioners conference,” she explained, which that part was actually the truth. She did go to a conference up north with her boss back in March. However, here comes the lie, “Well, Tommy was there as well. He just showed up unexpectedly. He wasn’t on the agenda, but he gave a speech, something about…I don’t know, I can’t remember. I wasn’t really paying attention. But it was at one of the social networking gatherings where I ran into him. We talked most of the night. He asked for my number, which I gave him, not thinking he would actually call. But we have been in contact for a while. It was only recently that we have gone on dates.” Again, all lies. Rose started to feel sick. She could feel bile began to rise in her throat.

Sighing, Louis folded his arms across his chest and leaned against his desk. He still wasn’t looking at his mother. “It’s all weird. You never really dated. Or not date so out in the open before.”

“Is one of the reasons why you’re upset with me dating is because of dad? Are you still hoping your dad and I get together?” Rose asked, concerned about what he would say. She wished Louis weren’t so hung up on the idea of her and Nick ending up together. It was never going to happen. 

He only shrugged. “Is it so wrong that a kid would want their parents to be together?”

There wasn’t much she could say to that concept. “How about we get pizza for dinner, okay,” she suggested hoping to move on from the subject.

“Fine. I got homework to finish up,” said Louis defeated. The look on his face broke Rose’s heart. 

“Alight. I’ll tell you when the pizza arrives. The usual?” she asked.

“The usual,” replied Louis nonchalantly while opening his school books and notebooks.

Rose left his room and walked down the stairs. She hated herself at that moment.

While Rose waited for the pizzas to arrive, she decided to send a quick text to Tommy.

As Tommy sat at his desk looking over contracts, it would be another late night at the office; he received Rose’s text. 

Rose: Tommy, we need to talk. Can I stop by your office around 3 PM tomorrow?

The message took him by surprise. He wasn’t expecting to hear from Rose or for her to ask to meet up with him.

Tommy: Yes, you can stop by. However, instead of 3:00, let’s meet at 4:00.

His reply back was his way of maintaining control. He found it rather amusing that Rose felt comfortable requesting, or rather ordering, Tommy for a meeting. Tommy was tempted to ask what the meeting would be about but didn’t really think too much of it. 

If the meeting turned out to be fruitless, he could end with Rose bent over his desk and punish her for wasting his precious time. The thought was already getting him hard. 

Leaning back in his chair, Tommy began to rub his hardness through his pants. Taking his cock out of his pants, he began to stroke back and forth. As Tommy continued to stroke, he only thought of Rose, which was unusual. Whenever Tommy was pleasuring himself alone, he would always think of Grace. He would picture his wife on her knees or bent over his desk or taking her up against the wall. It was always Grace.

But now, Tommy was picturing Rose. He saw her face clearly in his head. He imagined Rose under his desk pleasuring him with her mouth and hands. He wanted Rose bent over on his desk, taking her from behind, on the floor, the conference table, against the wall, and the floor. Tommy began to realize he wanted Rose all of the time.

At that thought. Tommy soon began to worry about why Rose asked for a meeting out of the blue. He began to wonder if she was regretting their arrangement due to being in the press. However, Tommy told Rose that being in the press was likely, and she appeared to understand that fact. No, something must have alarmed her. He would find out what it was. He would get it out of her one way or another. Tommy wasn’t going to let her go that easy. 

Friday! The day Father Time preferred to drag on and on. The hours on the clock appeared to move slower and slower, Rose noted. She was at work catching up on what she missed yesterday morning. It was the usual task; looking over budgets, setting up meetings, working on meeting agendas, finishing up the minutes from past meetings, and making sure the office was stocked with supplies. It was the same thing every day. Nothing changed, and the more she stayed at the job, the more fed up she became. Rose knew she needed to get out there and look for a better job. One that matched the college degree that she worked hard to obtain. A job that paid well where she would no longer have to be an escort to make a living. 

However, the money Tommy was offering to Rose was better than any standard 9 to 5 job could offer.

When 3:15 finally rolled around, Rose gathered her belongings and headed to meet Tommy. 

“Ms. Turner!” someone shouted at her. 

Thankfully, Rose knew that voice. She turned around to see Isaiah with a megawatt smile, waving her over to his car. 

“Let me guess, Tommy sent you to deliver me to him?” Rose questioned sarcastically. “And I told you to call me Rose.”

“Yes, he did, and yes, you did. Come on, we don’t want to be late,” Isaiah answered and opened the passenger door for Rose. She got in the car.

“You saw my son take the car this morning and let Tommy know, huh?”

“Yep,” was all Isaiah said and began to drive out of the College’s parking lot. 

With the way Isaiah drove, he managed to make it to the building that held Tommy’s office in half of the time. He smoothly moved the car around the building’s underground parking garage. 

“Okay, we are here. You can take the elevator to Tommy’s office,” he instructed and told Rose which floor to select.

“Thank you, Isaiah. I appreciate it. I figure Tommy is going to ask you to take me home?”

“That is to be determined. He might want to take you home himself. Have a nice evening, Rose. Take care,” said Isaiah and waved goodbye.

She selected the floor instructed by Isaiah and waited. Tommy was on the building’s top floor, so the elevator continuously stopped and let people on and off. When the elevator finally reached her destination, the doors opened. Rose only saw a few people pass by. There was no one at the front desk, so she stood by and waited until someone showed up.

Looking at her phone, it read 3:50. She still had ten minutes to spare. “Rose, hi. How are you?” She turned to see Andrew walk towards her. 

“Andrew, hi. I’m good. You?”

“Same. Can I get you some coffee or tea?” he asked. “Mr. Shelby is finishing up a call at the moment. Please, have a seat.”

“Okay. Water would actually be great, thanks.”

Andrew managed to get Rose’s water before Tommy emerged from his office. However, he was not alone. He was followed by a very tall and lanky man with a full beard and similar hairstyle to Tommy, but longer on top. 

“Arthur, continue to keep me posted on Changretta,” Rose heard Tommy whisper but pretended not to hear anything. She made it look like she was too preoccupied with her phone to notice the two men not far from her. 

“Esme is working on it, Tom. She is having trouble with a few firewalls, or whatever she called them, but assures she can crack ’em,” Arthur shared. “Said she would get a file on your desk by Monday.”

“Okay, good. That is good. I’ll talk to you later, brother,” Tommy responded, patting Arthur’s back.

Arthur said his goodbye and left for the elevators. Tommy turned towards Rose.

“Rose,” he spoke to get her attention. He motioned with his hand for her to follow him into the office. 

Closing the door behind him, Tommy told Rose to take a seat.

“Your text seemed rather…urgent,” Tommy began as he poured himself a whiskey. He offered on to Rose, but she declined. “Everything okay?” 

“Yeah, well…no, not really. I…uh…I don’t really know…” Rose began but was having trouble forming the words. “I don’t really…oh my God, it’s my son. He isn’t too keen on the idea of me ‘dating’ you. He saw the pictures. Apparently, some of the kids at school were making fun of him because of them. I have friends asking questions. Even my mom saw them, and I don’t talk to her at all. Everything has gotten out of hand. I mean, I wasn’t quite expecting this kind of outcome. It is a lot to take.”

Gulping down the whiskey, Tommy proceeded to pour another one for himself and one for Rose. 

“Drink,” he ordered, handing Rose the glass that held the amber color liquid, which she took and gulped it down. She placed the now empty glass on Tommy’s desk. “Feel better?” 

“Not really. Can I ask you something? It is kind of a personal question, but I’m asking you for some advice,” Rose asked and continued when Tommy gave her the go-ahead to proceed. “You have a kid yourself, a son. When I originally agreed to our deal, I never fully thought of the consequences that could occur. I didn’t think of how it would affect my child. To put it blankly, he is upset that I’m with you. It’s all about his stupid dad and wanting us to be together. So my question to you is, how do you go about lying to your child?”

Once again, Rose caught Tommy completely off guard with her question. That was not what he was expecting. The fact that she had the audacity to bring up his son didn’t even bother him as it would if it were anyone else. He was craving a cigarette at the moment. “My son, Charlie, spends most of his time at boarding school. He is only home on holidays and special occasions. When I have my son with me, he only wants to spend time with his cousins or me. He never really gave my ‘relationship’ with Lizzie much thought. To him, she was only daddy’s friend. Plus, the observation skills of an eight-year-old doesn’t quite compare to the observation skills of a sixteen-year-old.”

Tommy had a point, Rose thought. She motioned to him if she could refill her glass of whiskey. With Tommy’s go-ahead, she got up and poured herself a drink. This time Rose took small and sat back down.

Taking in a deep breath, Rose mentioned, “You’re lucky. It is so much easier when your kid is younger. They don’t ask so many questions or notice things that don’t add up. You can tell them pretty much anything, and they’d believe you. But when your kid gets older, prepare yourself for the questions he will no doubt ask.”

She looked up when Tommy sighed. He was leaning in his chair, staring up at the ceiling. “Charlie turned eight back in February. He is beginning to ask me questions about his mother, like where she was from and if we can visit the town, how we met, what made me attracted to her, all that stuff. The one question that scares me…” Tommy began, but Rose could sense hesitation. 

“He’s going to ask why did mummy have to die?” Rose finished for him. Tommy only nodded his head. “I don’t envy you on that part.”

Quite soon filled the office as Tommy and Rose sat in silence and sipping down whiskey. “Who was that guy that in here earlier?” Rose asked to kill the silence.

“That was my older brother, Arthur,” Tommy answered. “He and my younger brother, John, both own a couple of bars and clubs around England. They have been working on a new line of Peaky Blinders Vodka to go with our whiskey and gin brand.” 

“You really dabble in everything, don’t you. Where do you go from here?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I should try my hand at politics, eh. An MP to go with my OBE” teased Tommy with an exceedingly rare boyish grin on his face. Rose noticed that Tommy’s smile was rather sweet and brightened his facial features. “Yeah, that is exactly what my family needs is me in politics.” 

Rose softly scoffed, “I don’t think we need any more millionaires in politics, no offense.”

“No offense taken,” Tommy chuckled and downed his drink. He got up to grab his jacket and swung it on. He took Rose’s glass and finished it for her. “Come on, let’s go.” 

Tommy grabbed Rose’s hand and pulled her up from the chair. “Where are we going?”

“I’m taking you to dinner. We can talk more there,” Tommy proposed and guided Rose out of the office. 

“I won’t be able to stay the night if that is what you were considering,” she stated while in the elevator.

“Not what I was considering,” uttered Tommy, honestly. He put his hands on Rose’s shoulder and turned her to face him. “Only dinner.”

“Only dinner?”

“Nothing more, nothing less,” Tommy replied, placing a soft kiss on Rose’s lips. He entwined his hand in Rose’s and walked her to his car.

He took Rose to Bar 61, London’s most famous Spanish tapas restaurant. When they were seated, Rose liked the relaxed and upbeat charm of the establishment. She was surprised that Tommy chose the place since it was more family-friendly rather than high-end/upscale. But the man before her was always full of surprises. They sat in a more secluded area of the restaurant where they wouldn’t be disturbed.

Tommy ordered a bottle of wine for them to share. He raised his glass for a toast. “What are we toasting?” Rose asked with a smile.

“How about to good health and new friends,” Tommy suggested and clinked his glass with Rose’s.

“And to new adventures,” Rose added, now with a sly smile on her face.

“To new adventures,” Tommy repeated, and they clinked their glass again.

[genevievemd]

'Broke'

also do you have an angsty one shot in which there is no relationship problems between Ethan and gen (i.e. they should be a couple in it), just general sadness.

The reason I ask is because our uni surprised us with exams dates and they are A LOT sooner than we expected and I need a good cry

If you don't have it don't worry or write one on account of me

You can also light my way towards a good cry fic or movie

Broke “That's not the kind of tired I meant. Have you talked to Ethan since he broke things off?”

Send me a word, if it’s in my wip document I’ll answer your ask with the sentence that it appears in.

As for the rest of your ask, I have a couple WIPS but none that are near ready to be posted. BUT I adore you, so I’m gonna give you the super rough draft of one of the 50 ILY prompts that I think falls under what you want. 

But be warned, when I say rough, i mean rough. Like its half actually written and half shit sentences to get my point across before I go back and actually write them lol (under the read more)

She thought she was safe from him. Miles and years away from his taunts and games and tear downs. Never in a million years did Genevieve expect her ex to show up in Boston, Edenbrook no less. Her safe place. 

The darkness of the on-call room does little to ease herI h anxiety, stop the tears from falling and her chest constricting. Her eyes are still trained on the far wall, counting the minutes until her break is over, and she has to return to the demons of her past. 

Ryan Ozwell was the last person she ever expected to see again. Boston is a far cry from UPenn, 

No part of her wanted to tell him about her life and she was doing a fairly decent job at keeping the specifics from him. Until the moment Ryan asked if she was seeing someone. 

The smug, condescending look on his face like an echo from their past. His favorite insults repeating themselves over and over again in her mind. 

You’re worthless

You’re nothing

No one could ever love a piece of second class, backwater trash like you. 

So she gave in, against her better judgement, and told him she was with someone. That they were a doctor at the hospital but nothing more. But that was all he needed to break her down again, laugh in her face at the supposed absurdity that a fellow doctor would find her worthwhile. 

And In the hours between his admission and her later check in, Ryan had somehow figured out that Ethan was the man she was with, and it was like the gates of hell had opened. The fire in his eyes something unearthly, his words dripping with a deadly venom that paralyzed her. 

You’re still trying to date above your worth. 

How can you still be so naive? You really think he loves you? 

You’re a game to him, just like you were with me. Men like us get off on seeing how far we can string the pretty little thing along. 

I bet you only have the position you do because you’re sleeping with him. You were always a good fuck. 

It’s a shame you took that spot from someone who actually deserves it. 

She never showed him that it was getting to her, she kept the emotions at bay until she took her break. And went to an on call room to cry in the dark. 

She hates herself for still being affected by him, almost 9 years after they’d broken up and even after finding Ethan. 

She sees the door open, quickly shutting her eyes to make it look she’s sleeping. She hears the door shut with a soft click, the lock is turned and then slow measured footsteps walking towards her. 

Something in her tells her it’s Ethan and she’s proven right when he sits on the edge of the cot - placing a hand on her back, his fingers lightly caressing her.

Slowly Genevieve opens her eyes, but keeps her gaze trained on the invisible hole she’s been burning into the wall, afraid to see the look on his face. 

Ethan leans forward and wipes a tear from her cheek. His fingers linger on her skin before brushing a piece of hair behind her ear.He returns his hand to her back, running it up and down her spine. she can see him look at her with concern. Gen swallows back tears and reaches for his other hand, holding it tightly, but doesn’t look at him. 

After another moment, Gen takes a deep breath and turns her head to finally look at him. He gives her a reassuring smile, his face still full of concern. 

“I’m fine.” Her voice is barely above a whisper, still hoarse from crying 

“You don’t have to pretend with me, Gen.”

“I know that.” 

“Let me help.” 

She starts to tear up again and shakes her head. She bits the corner of her mouth and closes her eyes for a moment then looks back at the floor. 

“Don’t shut me out, Genevieve. Talk to me.” 

She half laughs, looking up at him with a faint smile. 

He leans in closer, placing right hand behind her and the fingers of his left hand brushing through her hair. 

“What did he say to you?” 

“How did you…” 

“I walked by his room and he very loudly yelled that he knew who I was. So I went to check his chart, saw the name and then immediately went to find you.” 

Gen sits up a little and Ethan moves his hand from her hair to her cheek. 

“Why didn’t you tell me that he was your patient? I could’ve gotten you off the case without anyone asking questions.” 

“Because you have enough to worry about. You’re the head of an entire department. Between that and Leland, Terrance and the construction, the last thing you need is a 3rd year resident crying to you about a difficult patient.”

“Genevieve…” Ethan leans forward and presses a loving kiss to her forehead. “You’re not just a resident, you’re my, as much as I hate such a juvenile term, girlfriend. Regardless of what’s going on, or how busy I am, you can always, and should always, come to me with whatever’s troubling you.” Ethan moves back to look into her eyes, “I know we try to keep the line between our work and private lives rather clear, but this is one of those times when that line should be crossed. Ryan Ozwell, isn’t just a random patient who’s being particularly difficult, he’s your borderline abusive ex. You should’ve come to me the minute you got his chart. Not just as a resident but as my girlfriend as well.”  

“You wouldn’t have been mad? I was worried you’d think I was being weak or something.” 

“Oh, I am mad, believe me. I’m irate, but not at you. Do you want me to take you off the case? Just say the word, and I’ll hand it over to a different resident or an intern. Preferably one of the less competent ones. Who’s caused the most trouble this week, it’s been awhile since I’ve given a good shake down.” 

Gen laughs, moving her hand to his chest. She fiddles with the lapel of his white coat, “No, I…” She looks down at her hand before looking back at Ethan, “I need to do this.” 

“You are absolutely certain?” 

“Yes.” She smiles softly, “You don’t need to protect me.” 

“I’m well aware that I don’t need to, Gen. I know you are more than capable of fighting your own battles, but I want to.” He strokes her cheek with his thumb, catching a wayward tear in its path. “Let me be there for you, the way you’ve always been there for me.” 

She nods

“How much time is left on your break?” 

Gen reaches for her phone, “A little over ten minutes.” 

Ethan takes off his coat, and loosens his tie. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Scoot over.” Gen does as he says but starts to cry again when she realizes he’s going to lay on the cot with her. 

Ethan lays down, leaning against the bed frame. Gen immediately wraps herself around him - practically lies on top of him. Her head is on his chest and her arm around his waist. Ethan holds her tightly, their legs tangled together. 

Thinks about how gentle and loving Ethan is, compared to her ex, how her safety and comfort are always his number one priority. How he makes her feel like the most precious thing in the world to him. How safe she feels when she’s in his arms. 

The moment is cut short when the timer on her phone goes off, Gen untangles herself enough to grab it from beside the pillow. She looks at it with a frown then looks at Ethan.

“Breaks over. I should go see if his test results are back. The sooner I figure out what’s wrong with him, the sooner he leaves.”

Gen gets up and stands, Ethan gets up as well. She hesitates, her hands shaking just the slightest bit. He steps forward to kiss her forehead, running his hand down her arm in comfort. 

“I’m coming with you.” 

“Ethan, really, you don’t -” 

“I’d like to see him try and say something while I’m in the room. He so much as looks at you the wrong way and -” 

Gen cuts him off with a kiss, leaning up on her tiptoes and holding his face in her hands. He immediately wraps his arms around her waist, holding her close. Her eyes start to water at his gentleness, never taking more than she offers. She pulls back after a moment, and looks in his eyes. They haven’t said “I love you you” yet but the way he’s looking at her says everything she needs to know. Ethan loves her more than anything. The thought makes more tears settle in her eyes and Ethan takes his hand off her waist to wipe them away. Her eyes flutter close at his touch and she leans up as he leans down, meeting her halfway as their foreheads touch. “I am so incredibly thankful for you, I…” 

“I know. I feel the same way about you.”

They share a knowing smile before fully leaving each other arms and heading for the door. ‘

I hope this helped. I promise to actually finish it at some point lol

Also, I can’t think of any movies to cry to atm. 

[writethehousedown]

Trust Fund, Gold Tongue (Crygi) 1/7 - Peridot

A/N: I am so excited to be taking part in the Summer Lovin’ fic challenge! This is going to be my first multichap ever, so bare with me!! I’ve enjoyed working on this for ages now, and I’m so excited to share it with you all. You can find me at my sideblog @artificialperidot, come say hi!!

Summary: Crystal hates her summer job in a country club, until she falls oh so hard for the sweet-talking millionaire daughter of the owner. Gigi would rather not spend her summer with her dysfunctional family, but a certain red headed waitress proves to be a welcome distraction.

They would both rather be anywhere else, but perhaps their summer won’t be as bad as it seems.

Hope you enjoy!!

Crystal could think of a hundred things she’d rather be doing this summer than working in a country club full of wealthy pricks. But the wage was decent, and God knows her rent wasn’t going to pay itself.

Walking into the resort for the first time had been like walking into another dimension, a complete other world from the life she knew, where there was no such thing as “too expensive”. It was like getting a glimpse into the other side of the world, of affluence that she could have never comprehended unless she had seen it with her own eyes. The complex was huge, spanning acres upon acres of land, and lavishly decorated - the front lobby had a fountain, for Christ’s sake.

Crystal thought it looked like something from MTV Cribs. On crack.

Not only was the place huge, but it had more facilities than Crystal could’ve even imagined - a golf course, a bowling alley, tennis courts, a spa, and countless swimming pools and hot tubs, some of which Crystal had yet to find on her first week on the job. Not to mention the private restaurants and numerous bars, which, as a waitress, she most often found herself working in.

So far, Crystal had learned two things in her first week working at the country club. Number one, for having such expensive taste, rich old white men liked drinking really cheap beer. And number two, despite the beer being cheap, they would do anything they could to avoid paying for it.

Crystal leaned against her beer cart and did her very best to ignore the sound of a 50-something year old country club member (who was much too loud and much too drunk for 11am on a Tuesday) babbling something about Crystal bringing him the wrong drink - that he ordered a Budweiser and not a Heineken - in an attempt to get another free pint. Crystal didn’t say a word, only nodding now and again to seem like she was listening. She was absolutely certain the guy was lying through his teeth. She specifically remembered writing down the man’s order, and double checking to make sure she had got it right. But she’d quickly learned to keep her mouth shut, because the people she was dealing with had enough money and enough influence to get her fired in an instant, and that simply was not an option for her.

She learnt that the customer is always right, even if the customer’s nose has grown five inches and their pants have set on fire.

Heaving a sigh, she mumbled out a “sorry about that, sir, I’ll get you another one on the house” through gritted teeth, before lifting all the empty glasses from the poolside table and balancing the man’s pint (which was about two thirds empty, despite it supposedly being ‘the wrong drink’) , precariously on her cart. If she had an ounce more courage, she would’ve challenged him, told him that he and his mates that had tried the same trick on her before weren’t fooling anyone, but she decided she’d leave her complaining for Jan’s ears when they were on lunch break.

She found their reluctance to pay surprising, really, since they had more money than she could even imagine. They had more money than she’d probably earn in her whole life. But, she supposed that’s how they all stayed so rich - by being cheap bastards.

She started wheeling the trolley back towards the bar indoors, hoping the guy didn’t pay much attention to the scowl that had crept its way onto her face. She decided to take the long way back, going around the pool rather than passing by his table again, which gave her a little time to cool off before she had to go inside and tell Jan or whoever was bartending to pour his beer down the sink.

She was tempted to hide round a corner and down the beer when no one was looking, because fuck, she needed a drink right about now.

Crystal found it funny that little things like that bothered her so much. She was fully aware that there were far worse things a person could do - she herself had done things that were way worse than telling a little white lie to get a free drink. But seeing it happen every day for the past week had really rubbed her the wrong way. Sure, in her last job as a waitress in a café she had encountered similar situations, but this felt different. It was different because she knew these people had the money, that they would have no trouble paying a few dollars out of their millions, and that they were stealing for the hell of it. Thinking about it made her want to scream.

Crystal wasn’t poor, per say. She wasn’t rich by any means, but her family had enough money to get by most of the time. It was only now that she was moving out for college at the end of the summer that she was in real need of some cash for her rent and her student loans. But knowing that people slave away for hours in dead end jobs just to make ends meet, and these millionaires wouldn’t pay for a fucking beer? It made her blood boil.

Although she felt like steam was coming out of her ears, she took a few deep breaths to calm herself and keep her cool. She was still working, after all. She found herself staring into the pool water as she rolled the cart along, watching as the sun’s reflection danced on its surface, glimmering. She was thankful for the hot weather, at least. The sunshine lightened everyone’s mood a little, and usually made her job a bit easier.

She considered it a small victory.

“Excuse me, miss?” a woman’s voice called out.

Snapping out of her daydream, Crystal swivelled round in search of the source of the voice. The poolside was fairly empty given the time of day (because let’s face it, if Crystal wasn’t working, she wouldn’t have been awake at 11am, either), so it didn’t take her long to see a girl, lying on one of the sun loungers, seemingly on her own and sticking out like a sore thumb from the older men in golfing gear.

She was young, Crystal thought, probably about the same age as herself or a little younger, and she donned a floppy sun hat and a pair of oversized cat-eye sunglasses, which left Crystal slightly unsure in what direction she was looking, or if she even had her eyes open at all. Her long, dark hair sat in waves down to her chest, and she just so happened to be wearing a very flattering and clearly very expensive bathing suit - a black halter neck bikini, with gold buckles - which left little to the imagination.

She looked like the dictionary definition of a rich girl, and Crystal would’ve rolled her eyes at how cliché she looked if she wasn’t so god damn hot.

“Um, hello?” the girl asked.

Crystal’s heart jolted. “Huh? Oh! Uh, how can I help you?” She jumped to attention, and was now suddenly very aware of her cheeks flushing red. How long had she been staring?

“Could I get another pink lemonade, please?” the girl said as if it was obvious, holding out her empty glass for Crystal to take.

“Oh, sure,” Crystal replied, making her way over to her sunlounger and feeling the heat rush to her face. When she grabbed the glass, Crystal could’ve swore she felt their hands touch for just a millisecond, and she would be lying if she said she didn’t feel a little flustered.

“Thanks,” the girl said, offering Crystal a small smile from behind her huge sunglasses.

A smile of pity, probably, Crystal thought.

She quickly placed the glass onto her cart and began rolling it away as fast as she deemed socially acceptable, speed-walking her way towards the bar. She bit the inside of her cheek and inwardly cursed herself for being so awkward. What was that? Who was that? And why the hell was she having heart palpitations?

She was practically out of breath by the time she reached the bar, which was located just inside a set of double doors, right by the pool. She set the glasses on the bar top, leaning on it in an attempt to steady herself and taking a few seconds to catch her breath. When she looked up, she was met by a smirking Jan, who had a single eyebrow raised.

“Care to tell me why you’re as red as a tomato?”

“Fuck you,” Crystal sighed, a smile breaking onto her face. “It’s warm outside, that’s all.”

Jan raised a single eyebrow. “Whatever you say,” she chirped, clearly not believing her. As much as Crystal wanted to elbow her in the ribs at that, she couldn’t help but smile. One of the few good things to come out of this job was her friendship with Jan and the other staff, which was new, but already felt strong. Jan was the human equivalent of a golden retriever- it was hard not to love her.

“Hey, I need a pink lemonade and a Budweiser beer for customers outside.”

“Another beer? This one’s not finished,” Jan said, gesturing to the pint glass Crystal had placed on the bar top before her.

Crystal rolled her eyes. “Apparently it’s the wrong brand.”

“Ugh. Another one of those guys. I hope he didn’t give you a hard time, sweetie,” she said, shaking her head with a sympathetic smile. “I’ll get the drinks for you now.”

“Thanks, Jan.”

As Jan busied herself with pulling another pint, Crystal could help but peer out through the door at the girl, still laid out on her sun lounger by the pool. She couldn’t deny she was gorgeous, but she wasn’t sure why her heart decided to try to escape her chest at the sight of her, especially seeing half of her face was hidden by those huge sunglasses and that floppy hat. It was probably that damn swimsuit, she thought.

Jan’s voice interrupted her train of thought. “I presume the pink lemonade’s for miss Goode? It’s her usual. I’ll put it on her tab.”

Crystal was quickly brought back to attention. “Who’s miss Goode?” she asked, trying not to seem too curious.

“Probably one of the richest teenagers in this hemisphere,” Jan scoffed.

Crystal gulped. “Oh, really?”

“Mmhm. Her dad’s a multimillionaire, he’s the CEO of some software company,” she said, not looking up from her task of refilling drinks. “He owns this whole country club. The Goode’s always spend their summer here.”

Crystal’s eyes widened. She knew that the girl would be rich, but she didn’t think she would be that rich. She was suddenly very intimidated, but she somehow wasn’t surprised. This ‘miss Goode’ looked like a million dollars, and apparently she was worth even more. One thing was for certain, though - any feelings she possibly could’ve had towards her had to be squashed, immediately.

“She’s not a bad kid, though,” Jan continued. “I kinda feel bad for her sometimes.”

“Why’s that?”

Before Jan could answer, their workmate Heidi swept through from the kitchen, carrying a stack of trays in one hand and a towel in the other, and took her place behind the bar with Jan. “Oh please, there’s nothing to feel bad for. She’s a bazillionaire, she’ll probably never work a day in her life!” she exclaimed, clearly having overheard their conversation. “If I was that rich, I’d be living it up in a mansion with all my rich friends and buying loads of cars and having parties every night. But, ya know. Poverty,” she said, laughing at her own joke immediately after.

Crystal found herself chuckling along and automatically agreeing with Heidi - she was sure that money like that would solve all of her problems. But she was reluctant to say so, and she wasn’t quite sure why.

“You’d better not keep her waiting, Crystal,” Jan prompted, handing over the fresh pint of beer and a tall glass of pink lemonade, which had a pink straw and crushed ice and a strawberry and slice of lemon on the rim. Crystal thought that it should have one of those mini cocktail umbrellas too, but she supposed that would’ve been a little overkill.

Gently balancing the drinks on her cart, she nodded in thanks to the girls, promising to meet them on their lunch break, and started wheeling it out the double doors, back towards the pool and the sun loungers.

Back towards miss Goode.

She wasn’t entirely sure that the colour of her face had settled by now, but she hoped that she wouldn’t be able to tell from behind her sunglasses. She told herself the nerves that were building in her chest were because of this girl’s social status, and definitely not because she was pretty. Definitely not. That didn’t even cross Crystal’s mind. She didn’t even need to tell herself that looking at a customer like that was a bad idea, and that miss Goode was probably straight, and that she’d never think twice about dating an employee. No, of course not. That would be stupid.

As she walked ever closer, Crystal was psyching herself up, telling herself to stop being an awkward mess and just be cool. Act natural. All she had to do was hand her the glass without making it too obvious that she was nervous. Easy. Easy peasy lemon squeezy. (And, avoid staring at her in that bathing suit, which was significantly less easy peasy lemon squeezy).

Before she knew it, she was a couple steps away from her. This was it. Just hand her the drink and get out of there. She could do this.

The girl turned to face Crystal when she saw her coming, offering her a smile. And then, she reached up and took off her sunglasses. And Crystal got a glimpse of her eyes for the first time. They were a piercing icy blue, and they twinkled in the sunshine, and Crystal didn’t want to take her eyes off of them.

Crystal fumbled on her cart and grabbed a glass, handing it to Gigi, not wanting to break eye contact for a second. She may have only been holding eye contact for a few seconds, but Crystal was captivated, swimming in her gaze.

And then, the girl looked downwards, and her face fell, and for just a second, Crystal’s heart dropped. Her brows furrowed. She looked confused.

And then Crystal realised she hadn’t handed the girl her pink lemonade, but the pint of beer.

Crap.

“Usually I get ID’d before someone serves me alcohol,” the girl said with a cocky smirk.

“Oh, uh, sorry!”

Crystal felt the heat rushing to her cheeks as she fumbled to fix her mistake, practically shoving the pink drink in her free hand as panic caught in her throat. She had one job. One simple job. She snatched the pint glass away from her with shaky hands.

And then, she dropped it.

“Shit!”

The glass miraculously didn’t smash, but its contents were spilt all over the poolside tiles.

This was all she needed.

Crystal sighed, just desolately staring at her reflection at the puddle of beer for a few seconds as an overwhelming feeling of for fuck’s sake overtook her. She groaned, flailing her arms like a toddler throwing a tantrum. She heard the girl beside her start to chuckle with that stupid cocky smirk still plastered on her face, perching on the edge of the sun lounger and looking up at Crystal.

“You know, someone should really clean that up,” she said, flashing Crystal a grin. “It’s a slipping hazard.”

Crystal rolled her eyes. “We’re by a pool, everywhere’s a slipping hazard,” she said, but she fumbled for the towel that she had tucked into her apron pocket anyways, kneeling down to wipe it up.

The girl giggled at that, leaning back against her chair with her crossed legs outstretched before her (which Crystal definitely didn’t find herself staring at). “You didn’t strike me as the type to talk back, but I’m pleasantly surprised,” she said, taking an obnoxiously loud slurp through her pink bendy straw.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Most of the staff here are no fun. I think they’re all afraid I’m gonna get them fired or something,” she said with a shrug. “You seem fun though.”

Crystal felt herself blush, but this time she wasn’t embarrassed. She was smiling. “Well, God didn’t give me this incredible personality to be quiet.”

The girl laughed, tucking a lock of her dark chocolate brown hair behind her ear. Crystal couldn’t help but take notice of the way she stuck her tongue out just a little as she giggled, and it made her smile, too. She giggled like a little girl, and it seemed like such a contrast to her effortless chic-ness. Crystal found it endearing. And very cute.

“I haven’t seen you around here before, have I?” the girl said. Her eyes scanned Crystal’s face, and Crystal tried to focus on wiping up the spilt drink because she was sure that if she caught another glance at the girl’s doll eyes looking directly at her, her brain would start shutting down.

“I don’t think so,” Crystal replied. “I only started here about a week ago.”

“I thought so,” the girl hummed, before taking another sip from her glass. “I think I would’ve remembered you.”

Crystal could’ve swallowed her own tongue at that. Instead she clenched her jaw and continued cleaning, keeping her lips firmly shut to make sure she didn’t say something stupid.

“So what’s your name then?”

“Crystal,”

“Nice to meet you, Crystal,” the girl said with a quick raise of her eyebrows.

“Nice to meet you too, uh-.”

“Gigi,” the girl said with a smile.

“Gigi,” Crystal replied, seeing how her name felt on her tongue, and recalling the name Jan had mentioned earlier. Gigi Goode. It felt right, she thought. It suited her. It definitely seemed like a rich girl name, and as far as rich girls came, this girl was supposedly in a league of her own. Though Crystal tried not to think about that - her massive sunglasses and her perfect model body were already intimidating enough.

Not that Crystal was thinking about her body or anything. Especially not about how good it looked in that pretty swimsuit.

Of course not.

Once she had the beer all mopped up, Crystal tossed the soaked towel over her shoulder, picking up the desolate pint glass from the ground and placing it on her beer cart, still in awe of how it didn’t smash on the outdoor tiles. She supposed the universe had felt bad for her - she’d had quite enough beer issues for today, and the last thing she needed was broken glass to deal with, too.

The knowledge that she’d have to go back for yet another beer for that lying bastard, though, made her want to throw the glass at a brick wall.

She felt frustration build up in her chest at the thought, and sighed. Perhaps a little too loudly, though, as Gigi seemed to pick up in it.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.

“Ugh, I just have to go get this annoying guy another beer now,” Crystal replied with a roll of her eyes.

“How is he annoying?”

Crystal probably shouldn’t be saying this to the daughter of the country club owner, but fuck it, she needed to vent. “There’s a group of them, actually. They always yell at me and pretend I got their order wrong so they can get another free beer. I know it’s not that bad, but it just rubs me the wrong way.”

Crystal looked at Gigi, whose face had changed to one of shock and anger, her mouth hanging open slightly and her eyebrows furrowed. She stayed silent for a second, before standing up from her sun lounger, scanning the pool area. “Who was it?”

“That guy over there, in the blue polo shirt,” Crystal said, gesturing towards him.

Gigi nodded, her eyes narrowing. Crystal saw her clutch her glass tightly, her knuckles turning white. “Oh. Him,” she said, her voice stoic. “I know him. Well, I guess I won’t be needing the rest of my drink!” she said, and with that, she was off, quickly marching to the spot where the man stood.

Before Crystal had time to comprehend what was happening, Gigi was face to face with the man, and Crystal was frozen in her spot, her feet stuck to the ground a few meters away from them.

She heard Gigi’s voice yell something, and then she was throwing her pink lemonade in the man’s face.

He was drenched, and Crystal had to cover her mouth to suppress her laughter.

Crystal half expected the now dripping man to start yelling, screaming at Gigi like he had screamed at her. But instead he remained silent, not looking angry, but more at a loss for words, before he trudged off grumpily, presumably to get changed.

When her eyes darted away from the man, Gigi was nowhere to be seen. But even so, she still found herself grinning like a fool.

And, when her manager called her to clean up the spilt pink lemonade by the pool, she was more than happy to oblige.

[homeformyheart]

and the winner is... - m!raleigh carrera x mc (plat)

author’s note: a happy ralence fic for @raleiighcarrera (to make up for the angsty one i published on her birthday XD)

copyright: all characters owned by pixelberry studios. song mentioned is “home” by gabriella aplin. series/pairing: platinum – m!raleigh carrera x mc (cadence dorian) rating/warnings: 13+; fluff word count: 2.4k summary: raleigh and cadence continue to test the limits of their competition to see who is more fashionably late throughout their relationship.

and the winner is…

raleigh checked his phone for what seemed like the tenth time in the last hour. cadence hadn’t replied back since she told him she was running late 40 minutes ago. unlike raleigh, she prided herself for being fairly punctual, so being more than 20 minutes late to an event was a cardinal sin and just plain absurd. they were attending some a-lister’s tequila brand launch party and agreed to meet at the venue since cadence was busy with marketing details for the upcoming album.

a familiar pair of hands suddenly covered his eyes. “guess who?” he didn’t need to turn around to know that it was his stunning and breathtaking girlfriend of two years.

“you’re late, even for you,” he murmured into her ear as he let himself fall into her embrace.

“i think i’m just very fashionably late. besides, i learned from the best,” she said, giving him a quick kiss before pulling back just as a waiter came by with a tray of drinks.

they both grabbed a glass of the featured tequila-based cocktail but not before raleigh gave her a knowing look, his eyebrow quirked and his smirk close to becoming an excited grin.

“i think that has us tied now. i guess i’ll have to up the ante at your album release party next week.”

cadence took a measured sip of her drink before giving him a flirty smile. “don’t. you. dare,” she said sweetly, but raleigh heard the threat underlying her tone.

it had become a game for them, fueled by their competitive streaks, occasionally tempered by their love for each other and not wanting to hurt each other. sometimes they alternated who showed up late to the award shows and event appearances but walked a more careful line for more personal events, like album release parties or concert afterparties.

unfortunately for cadence, raleigh was true to his word and told the group he’d “meet them at the party” the week after cadence’s album dropped. in just a week, she had three singles crack the top 10 list. her release party was at 10 circus again, despite fiona’s best attempts to convince cadence to keep things new. raleigh had given her the idea to celebrate how her success had come full circle since the odyssey and she thought it was an appropriate sentiment for her third studio album. of course, she was currently distracted by the growing frustration at how much raleigh was pushing her patience. he was already half an hour late and that was after she made it clear that he was on thin ice. at this rate, she was going to have to perform without him there.

fiona finally gave her the signal that meant she couldn’t wait any longer and she took a deep breath, preparing herself to perform on the elevated stage. she grabbed her guitar and took a seat in front of the microphone, strumming a few chords to get the crowd’s attention.

“thank you to everyone who helped inspire, create, promote, and enjoy this album. this is ‘home’,” cadence said, looking out at the crowd with fondness at the familiar faces. all but one, of course.

“i’m a phoenix in the water, a fish that’s learned to fly...” as cadence began singing, she didn’t notice raleigh sneak in from the back entrance.

he watched her perform from the side of the stage so he was out of her peripheral vision. he knew he was pushing his luck by making her think he was a no-show but he was putting the finishing touches on his surprise for cadence. as she neared the end of her song, raleigh carefully shuffled forward so he would be in her line of sight. as soon as she noticed, he gave her his trademark smirk and winked, enjoying the glare she gave him.

“as long as we’re together, does it matter where we go?” cadence held the last note before humming along with the final chords. she waved and bowed to the crowd before walking off behind a makeshift paneled area next to the stage, where raleigh quickly caught up to her.

cadence just glared at him and attempted to walk around him. raleigh blocked her until she huffed and stopped in front of him, arms folded over her chest.

“i’m not in the mood to put up with you right now, raleigh. you missed my performance after i told you not to be late,” cadence said, trying to keep her tone even.

“i didn’t miss your performance, i promise – i was watching from the back. and i know i’m late but i have a very good reason, if you’ll humor me,” he said in his most apologetic tone, throwing in what he hoped was an irresistible smile.

it must’ve worked because cadence rolled her eyes but grabbed his hand, allowing him to lead her to the back of the club and up the employees only stairwell. cadence’s irritation at raleigh was replaced by curiosity as she followed raleigh up multiple flights of stairs, past the manager’s office and storage rooms, until they ended up on the roof. raleigh led her away from the doorway and cadence gasped – at least 50 candles created a path from the doorway to the opposite railing, their soft glow illuminating the otherwise dark roof.

as they walked toward the railing, cadence suddenly heard booming sounds and looked up to a fireworks show over the east river. she turned to raleigh, who was looking at her adoringly, but before she could say anything, he pulled her in front of him so that he could wrap his hands around her waist from behind.

“this is why i was late. i love you, cadence dorian,” he murmured into her ear as he watched the fireworks reflected in her eyes.

“alright, you’re forgiven. i love you too,” cadence whispered back, her eyes mesmerized by the fireworks show. “why did you do all this though?”

raleigh stayed silent and before cadence could question him further, her eyes widened as she noticed the “will you marry me, cadence?” spelled out in the sky by the fireworks in dazzling white. as she turned to face raleigh, he took a few steps back and bent down on one knee, holding out a small box with a large emerald-cut diamond ring nestled inside.

“cadence, when i first met you at the one in a million audition, the last thing i expected was to fall for you. but you continued to surprise me with your strength and courage in facing down this crazy industry without losing sight of the real you. and every day i’m reminded that you choose to see the real me and that made it so easy to fall in love with you. i never expected that i’d ever experience true, real love in my life and now, i can’t imagine the rest of my life without you. cadence dorian, will you marry me?” raleigh took a deep breath and held cadence’s gaze, trying to make sure he conveyed as much emotion as he felt.

cadence’s hands flew to her mouth and tears started prickling the corner of her eyes. she had to blink rapidly and remind herself to focus on what raleigh was saying. in truth, she was shocked and overwhelmed. she was always reminding herself not to expect a long-term future with raleigh, since the likelihood of him settling down was low and she tried to just enjoy the present moment.

“cadence?” raleigh shifted anxiously as he waited for cadence to respond. it didn’t really occur to him until that moment that there could be a chance she said no.

cadence let out a laugh and nodded furiously. “of course i’ll marry you. i love you, raleigh,” she said enthusiastically, leaning in to give him a deep kiss.

raleigh pulled back and stood up, taking her left hand in his right so he could slide the large diamond ring on her finger, the cool band sliding down her finger reminding cadence that this wasn’t a dream. she wrapped her arms around raleigh’s neck, kissing him over and over again until she was breathless.

1 year later

raleigh closed the door behind him and took a step toward cadence, his hands tucked into the pockets of his gray suit.

“you know, it’s supposed to be bad luck to see the bride before the wedding,” cadence said, adjusting her veil as she smirked at raleigh’s reflection in the mirror.

raleigh didn’t say anything, but his casual smirked softened into a genuine smile as he approached her from behind. he slid his arms around her waist and gazed at her reflection in the mirror with adoration.

“it’s a good thing i’m not superstitious. you look breathtaking, mrs. carrera,” raleigh said, with genuine affection in his voice.

cadence tilted her head slightly so she could give him a kiss. raleigh immediately deepened it, coaxing her mouth open with his tongue, his hands tightening at her waist.

after a few moments, cadence gently pushed his chest back. “i’m not going to become mrs. carrera if you make us late to our own wedding!” she giggled as raleigh leaned in for one more kiss.

“we can’t have that, can we? i still have more points than you,” he smirked as he walked away.

cadence continued gazing at the door after raleigh walked through it, tapping her chin thoughtfully. two can play at that game, she thought to herself as zadie walked in and immediately scolded her for smudging her lipstick. she stepped outside of the room with zadie, who adjusted her train once before heading inside the chapel, leaving cadence alone with her father.

“you ready?” he smiled gently at her and cadence almost considered being on time. key word being almost.

she heard the music soften that was supposed to be her cue. raleigh, his groomsmen, and her bridesmaids would be waiting at the altar, and her wedding planner would be standing by to cue the organist.

“not yet, i want to make him sweat a little,” cadence said with a mischievous smirk. her dad chuckled and she was grateful that he was going along with her little prank.

it didn’t take long before people came by to check on her. first, she had to convince her wedding planner that it was okay she was delaying the ceremony by a few minutes and swore her to secrecy. next, when zadie came up to her and found out what she was doing, willingly offered to mess with raleigh’s head and tell him that cadence was reconsidering. finally, by the time fiona came out to check on her, cadence knew she couldn’t delay any longer.

“he is about 10 seconds away from running out here in a panic thanks to zadie,” fiona warned, but cadence could tell she was enjoying this too.

“fine, fine, let’s get going, then,” cadence said, rolling her eyes. she walked up to the archway with her father and waited for the music to start before stepping forward.

all mischievous thoughts instantly vanished when she saw her husband-to-be waiting for her at the end of the aisle. cadence barely registered the faces of her friends and family around her as she walked toward the love of her life, and when she was a few steps away, noticed how vulnerable he looked. she immediately felt a pang of guilt for freaking him out, but pushed it aside to marvel at the wondrous look in his eyes as he lifted her veil and took in her appearance.

it wasn’t until after their vows were said and they were walking back down the aisle as mr. and mrs. carrera that raleigh leaned in so that only cadence could hear him say, “you almost gave me a heart attack – can we call a truce so i never have to worry about that again?”

cadence laughed and gave his arm a squeeze. “truce.”

2 months later

“raleigh, i officially win!” cadence said triumphantly, holding out a white stick. “my period is late.”

“what?” radence just looked at her, dumbfounded. she handed the stick to him and he noticed that it had two pink lines. even he knew what that meant.

“are you seriously telling me that we’re having a kid by announcing it as part of our stupid competition? didn’t we call a truce?”

cadence beamed and raleigh laughed. “yep, but this definitely makes me the official winner. you’re going to be a daddy and there is no way you can beat this one and you shouldn’t even try if you know what’s good for you.”

raleigh wrapped cadence up in his arms and twirled her around. “alright, you win. i love you.”

8 months later

cadence squeezed raleigh’s hand as another contraction hit; she barely registered the gasp of pain he released as he tried to pull his hand from her grip, without success.

“why won’t you come out?! you’re already a week late. please, please come out already!” cadence begged her swollen belly.

“ow, cadence! i love you, but you’re definitely going to break my guitar hand,” raleigh grimaced, pulling his hand from hers and massaging it.

cadence gave him a murderous glare. “this is your fault, carrera. karma for that stupid competition and you’re not the one trying to push a human being out of their body so i don’t want to hear another complaint or so help me, i’ll—augh!” cadence reached out and grabbed raleigh’s arm as another contraction ripped through her.

a long 11 hours later, cadence and raleigh looked on in awe at the tiny bundled human in her arms.

“hi baby girl, we love you so much already,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion.

raleigh kissed cadence’s forehead and shifted so he could sit on the bed and put his arm around her. “i didn’t think it was possible to love something this much,” he agreed softly. “she sure took her sweet time getting here and put her mommy through hell.”

“i think that means she’s probably going to have a rebellious streak like her father,” cadence joked, watching her infant daughter sleep.

“we might have a new winner on our hands, if you’re ready to pass on your crown,” raleigh said, gently taking the bundle from cadence and holding her in the crook of his arm.

cadence laughed softly. “i think you’re right. she wins.”

* * * * * mentions: @raleigh-edward; @dulceghernandez; @thegreentwin; @kat-tia801; @otherworldlypresents; @brycesgirl; @robintora;

[ilovemybarricadebabies]

another fanfic ask game post! enjoy!

This time I’m doing these questions!

Inspiration and Reading Questions:

1. How long ago did you start reading fanfiction? Writing fanfiction?

Reading: I’m not sure. Maybe 2011/2012

Writing: 2013

2. How do you spend your time when it comes to fanfiction? Are you primarily fic reader, writer, or a perfect 50/50 split of both?

It’s definitely both, but I wouldn’t call it a perfect 50/50 split. It varies. Sometimes I read more, but write less or vice versa.

3. Are there any fics that inspired you to write what you do.

Not really. I usually just write fics for whatever I want to.

4. Link your three favorite fics right now.

Current favorite WIPs.

All That’s Left by @doriangrayscale

flowers for your grave by @grantairesbottle

Lover of the Light by @areyoumiserableyet

Favorite (four) all-time fics

Ask me no question (and I’ll tell you no lies) by Signe_chan

If you offer salvation, I will run (into your arms) by mornmeril

this is fact not fiction by Rianne

Oh, It’s What You Do To Me by captainskellington

5. What are your fanfic pet peeves? Do they have a huge effect on whether or not you decide to read something.

I have a love-hate relationship with slow burn fics. Like I love them because give me the pining, give me the obliviousness, give me the amazing, sweeping first kiss, give me the angst, just give me all the delicious development that comes with finding common ground and falling in love. That being said, however, and I realize that I’m in the minority here, the hate part comes in when the story is really long, let’s 50+ chapters, and the story gets to chapter 50, but the romance still hasn’t started coming into play and I’m starting to just get sick of it because nothing has progressed to romance. Like there gets to be a time where too much is too much and usually, when that happens, it’s time for me to say adios! to the story.

6. How do you find new fic to read? Where do you primarily read fanfiction.

I primarily read fics on Ao3. I loathe FFN.net with every fiber of my being.

I usually just leave the Enjolras/Grantaire category open on and refresh it like three to four times a day for new stories to read.

7. Do you prefer to read short fics or long fics?

It depends on the ship, but I mostly like long fics.

8. How often do you reblog/comment on fics that you like?

I’m absolutely horrid at commenting (I’m working on getting better), but if it’s a story that I really like (ex. the three WIPs mentioned in question 4), I will comment every time there is a new chapter.

9. Tag 3 fic writers you think are underrated/unknown in the fandom/fanfiction community.

I have no idea. In my opinion, I think all writers are underrated and unknown.

10. What’s your favorite fandom, pairing, or character to read fic for?

Enjolras and Grantaire (Enjoltaire) from Les Mis.

Fanfiction Writing Asks:

11. How do you come up with your fic titles?

Through music or quotes. Sometimes one just comes to me, but mostly through music or quotes.

12. Tell the author your favorite fics title of theirs (not the fics, stricktly the title). Author: what’s your favorite title you’ve come up with and why?

I love all the titles of my fics, I can’t possibly pick a favorite.

13. Do you outline your fics? How much of a headache would someone get if they just look at an outline of yours without reading the fic?

I make some sort of outline, but I don’t think they’d really get much of a headache since it’s pretty much just a basic plot, maybe sometimes a little more than that.

14. Do you have personal word minimum that you hold yourself too? Why or why not?

Absolutely not! I write until I think I’ve found a good quitting spot. That can be 500 words or 20k words. It all depends on how I’m feeling and where my motivation is at.

15. Tell the author your favorite fics of theirs. What’s your (the author’s) favorite fic you’ve written?

Forever Was In His Eyes is my favorite with Begin Again as a close second.

Honorable mention because it pushed me out of my comfort zone: Beating of Our One Heart.

16. Do you research your fics? If so, how deep of a rabbit hole have you down by accident while researching?

I only research if the fic absolutely calls for it.

17. How obsessively do you sit and stare at your fic after you’ve just posted and wait for feedback?

On a scale of 1-100, 100. I’m not motivated by feedback like some writers are, but I do love to know if someone is enjoying my fic or not.

18. Do you have WIP that you keep telling yourself that you’ll eventually get back to, but deep down you know that’s probably lie?

Nope. Any WIPs that are unfinished, will probably stay unfinished.

19. Do you edit your fics after you write them, or do you prefer to just post and run (because it’s someone else’s problem now)?

I edit, and then, I’m constantly editing after it’s posted. If I re-read one of my fics and spot a spelling mistake, I can’t just let it sit there, I HAVE to fix it. I am also currently in the middle of long and giant editing project to make sure all my stories are the best stories that they can.

20. What’s your favorite part about the fanfiction writing process?

Um...I, for some strange reason, love outlining. I love coming up with the sequence of events. How do the characters get from point A to point B. How does the story end.

21. What’s your least favorite part about the fanfiction writing process?

Editing and revising. Always.

22. Do you take fic requests? If so, for what characters and why?

Nope. I don’t get enough attention in my inbox to do that.

23. What’s your absolute favorite trope to write?

Forbidden love. I’ve always been such a sucker for this trope.

24. What’s a trope that you’d like to never hear about as long as you live, let alone write?

I’m sure that there are some tropes that I would never touch in a million years, but I can’t think of any write now.

25. Do you listen to music as your write? If possible, link your writing playlist.

I listen to music, but I don’t have a playlist. Most of time it’s just Taylor Swift.

26. What’s your biggest distraction when writing?

Um...if I’m watching a brand new TV show or one I haven’t watched in a long time, I’ll pay more attention to the screen then what I’m supposed to be writing. This goes for movies too.

27, Do you like to give your readers some warning of what might be coming or just slap them in the face with content at random?

I keep my fics under lock and key until they are finished. No one knows any details about them except me. The one exception to this rule was Beating of Our One Heart. I warned that that fic would feature a polyamorous relationship (something I have never written before) while I was working on the outline.

28. How do you deal with writing pressure (ie: pressure to update, negative comments, deadlines, etc)?

Well, the only pressure I usually feel is worry that people won’t like my story, but I think that’s normal for every writer.

29. Have you ever written for an exchange or event of some kind? Which one(s)?

I don’t write for events.

30. Post a snippet from your current WIP without context - no more than 300 words.

R (11:46 P.M.): I’m not sorry.

31. Of the characters your write for, which is your favorite? Has that choice been swayed at all by your followers/readers’ reactions to certain one?

I love writing Enjolras. I’m sure people who have read my fanfics find him to be OOC, but I don’t care. When I write him, he’s half me projecting and the other half is him being the righteous revolutionary that we know him as.

32. Copy and paste your top three favorite lines/jokes/sentences you’ve ever written. What fics do they come from?

I can’t pick three, I have too many favorites.

33. What do you like writing better: one shots or multi-chapter stuff?

It depends. I like writing both. I also really like writing one shots that are 30k+ and multi-chapter fics that are under 10k. It all just depends on my mood and what the fic calls for.

34. How much of yourself and your life experience do you put into your writing? What do you think your readers’ image of you is?

As stated above, I project onto Enjolras. How much, I’m not saying. I do put my likes and dislikes as the characters’. When I write children, I draw inspiration from my nephews. I use my high school class schedule as the characters’ schedule when I write high school AU’s. The jest of what I’m saying is that I have no idea what my readers’ image of me is.

35. How much has writing fic changed your life?

It’s become my escape when things get too difficult or stressful.

36. Are they any fics or fandoms you’re embarrassed to have written or been apart of?

I’m not embarrassed by it, and I never finished or posted it, but I started writing a Sound of Music fic. I don’t remember what it was about, though.

37. Give an update on your current WIP - if you have one, give a sneak peek to a title or idea that you have and would like to write.

My current WIP is almost done. I just have to finish writing more scene.

38. What does your writing process look like? How chaotic is it on a scale of 1 (very tame) to 10 (you can’t handle this kind of chaos)?

It’s very tame, so 1. I write my stories in order of events, if I don’t I get confused on what’s happen. I start by writing an outline, and then I write and I edit (multiple times) before I post.

39. What’s something about your writing that you pride yourself on?

That I write what I want to. No comments can really influence the story (unless it’s a consistency thing) because I write the whole thing out before it’s posted.

40. How did you come up with the idea for [x fic]?

You can see this answer right here!

41. What’s your most popular fic (with the most notes on Tumblr, most hits/kudos on Ao3)?

My most popular fic based on hits: Somethings Are Meant to Be.

My most popular fic based on kudos: The Enjolras Guide to Weddings and Love.

42. Asker: pick three of the author’s works. Author: rank them 1 (the best) - 3 (the worst) based on whatever criteria you want - this could be something totally random that isn’t quality related ( like simply ranking fics based on how many trains appear in them) have fun!

I’m skipping this question!

43. Talk about a positive experience with fanfiction or the fanfiction community that you will always remember.

Every comment that I get, especially if I get it when I’m having a bad day, is like a little ray of sunshine for me. Again I’m not motivated by comments or feedback, but I can’t deny that receiving it is like a cherry on top of a delicious hot fudge sundae.

44. Ran about something writing related.

How long it takes to write. I wish I could just connect some sort of machine to my brain, and it would just churn out the words for my fics and they could be done a lot sooner. And that fanfiction could come before homework and life, but alas it can’t.

45. Fic specific questions - if you have any weird questions about specific works, here’s your shot to ask them!

Skipping this one, but if you have a question about any of my fics, my ask box is currently closed, but my DM’s are always open.

[coffeecomicsgalore]

Golden Boy’s Cursed Day

Coming at you with a crack fic that popped into my head today. 

Poor Mr. Golden Sunshine Boy is just having the unluckiest day ever.

Ao3

Adrien, Mr. Golden Sunshine Boy, Paris’s elite teen supermodel, super fan of the amazing Ladybug, would be considered to have all the luck in the world. He’s rich, famous, has whatever he could desire. Yeah, sure, that’s what everyone who lives outside the picket fence would say and Adrien being the composed fool that he is emits the aura of good luck. But today? Today? Well, let’s just pretend that the word ‘luck’ decided it needed to be on the other side of Paris, hiding its face from the golden ball of sunshine.

Strike that. Luck was on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean pointing and laughing hysterically at him while the dark clouds decided to hover over his head pouring all the possible rain it could from its body.

Today, he was the epitome of bad luck and the cackling of the little god of destruction did not help his mood. Nope, not one bit.

It all started early this morning when an akuma disrupted the one hour of sleep that he got in between photo shoots, lessons, and homework. It was a particularly hard one, spending most of their waking moments defeating it.

When Adrien finally got to bed, he closed his eyes only for his alarm to go off five minutes after settling his head in the comfiest position on the bed, reminding him that it was time to get himself ready with his early morning prep. But instead of getting up like he should have, he decided to hit the snooze button for another 10 minutes of rest and ultimately fell into a deep sleep.

So deep in fact, that he didn’t hear the knock on the door reminding him it was time to get up.

Or the knock when it was time to eat his breakfast.

Or the knock when it was time to exit his room and head to the car and head to school.

Finally, a nudge under his rib stirred him enough to open his sleep filled eyes. When his eyes finally cleared of the blurriness, he noticed a dark figure hovering above him, scaring him into a frenzied panic. Without thinking, he threw a punch into the figure’s general direction and ended up almost punching the figure, who was coincidentally Nathalie, in the face (luckily, she was able to dodge most of the force, only being grazed with a knuckle against her cheekbone) but the sheer panic caused him to fall off the bed before falling on the floor and clutching his chest in a heaving mess.

He finally got to school, an hour later than normal, missing homeroom completely, and entered his first class halfway through an unplanned physics test. Groaning over the luck, he got to work on completing what he could, only being able to complete half of it in the time frame. Well I can at least get a 50%, he thought, but when the teacher announced that it was a peer review exam, he got his test back shortly after realizing he used all the wrong formulas and getting a 0 on the exam.

Shit.  

Grumbling to himself, he tried to take a sip of his purple soda when Ivan accidentally knocked into him, coating his white over shirt in a wet, purple mess. At least it wouldn’t be seen on his black top. Looking down, he noticed that his pants took some of the spill and a wet spot in the worst possible place could be seen. It didn’t help that his longtime friend decided that she had embarrass him further when she ran up to him, giggling in her own snarky yet friendly demeanor with a “Adrikins! You couldn’t make it the bathroom? Utterly ridiculous, even for you.”

He could feel his skin burning from both embarrassment and festering anger, but he just took a deep breath and headed to the locker room to change in another set of clothes. Luckily, he had an extra set in his locker just in case. Can’t have the face of the brand’ be covered in crap, he thought with an eye roll.

By French class, he realized he left his homework on his desk at home and couldn’t pass it in. Muttering a passable excuse, the teacher sympathized with him and opted to give him half-credit if he brings it in the next day. Now he just had to remember it to stuff it in his bag and bring it in.

By PE, he was already annoyed and feeling the pressure of the dark cloud hovering over him that he didn’t see the dodge ball being hurled in his direction. Kim had planned a surprise attack on Alix, but Adrien happened to walk into the line of fire.  

Adrien startled himself awake and realized he was no longer in the gymnasium. He noticed the stark white room of the nurse's office and noticed a very worried Marinette sitting quietly beside him. One hand was holding his hand closest to her, while the other was holding something cold that was pressed against his face.  

Marinette smiled when she noticed him awake and shushed him sweetly calming down the nerves that plagued his mind.

“You happened to take a bad hit from a dodge ball and was knocked out from the impact.” She removed the ice pack from his face to assess the damage. Placing the ice pack back on his eye, she continued. “I carried you here.”  Great. Just great. This amazing, petite girl who shouldn’t be physically able to carry his dead weight around, carried his unconscious body to the nurse's office. What’s next, world? Seriously, what’s next?  

It didn’t take him long to realize what was next. Now sporting a black eye and a cut lip, Adrien walked into the next class where an upper classman decided to place a kick me sign on the back of his shirt. How did he know it was there? When another classmate decided to buckle his knee from behind and then steal his chair as he tried to sit down in his seat.

If an akuma was around, there would be no stopping him being akumatized.

Just get me now, Hawkmoth!  He yelled in his head.

As if the world decided to throw him another wrench, the school announcement system startled the students. “Akuma! Please exit the classroom in an orderly fashion.”  

What. The. Fuck.  

Another difficult akuma. Another of him being controlled by said akuma. Ladybug having to fight most of the battle alone, and luckily,  just luckily , Alya had captured the battle on a live feed. Adrien couldn’t ignore the crushing weight in his mind, so he watched the replay to try to ease it only to have a front row viewing of all the hateful things Chat Noir said towards Ladybug.

Great. Just keep it coming.  

His father had magically allowed Adrien to stay at school for lunch. Nothing else had happened since the akuma was defeated, so maybe his luck was returning? He was happily talking to Nino as the two walked towards the table where Alya and Marinette were sitting at. Adrien didn’t pay attention to his surroundings and barely registered the Adrien! Wait! coming from Marinette’s mouth before slipping on something and falling flat on his back, the entire contents of his tray falling on top of him.

The entire lunchroom went dead silent as he placed the tray on his head hoping to hide from the embarrassment.  

That’s where the day had brought him, hiding under the tray thinking back to the entirety of the day and how his luck brought him to this very moment. He wanted to shrivel up and phase into the floor, just like Plagg usually does when he needs to hide from the world.  

When he heard Nino, Alya, and Marinette surround him, he moved the tray slightly to peak at them with one eyeball and then told them he was hiding there until the end of the day. Marinette removed the tray, Nino picked him up off the floor, and Alya started to grab napkins to help clean up whatever was caked on his face.

Looking at the mess of the floor, he didn’t notice Marinette whispering something in Alya’s ear, or the nod Alya gave in return, but he did hear Marinette taking in a heavy breath before grabbing Adrien’s hand and pulling him with her out of the school.

“Marinette? Where are you taking me?”

“You’re coming to my house. I have a set of clothes that you can have and you can use my shower to get cleaned up. You won’t have time to go home and do any of that and I only live right across the street.”

Not even thinking, the dreaded words rushed out of his mouth. “You sure like to help out stray cats when they need it most, huh princess?”

Marinette stopped dead in her tracks and took one look at him with the ferocity of Ladybug’s before he realized what came out of his mouth.  

What the fuck times a million.  

Marinette closed her eyes, took in a heavy breath, and smiled at him in such a scary way that Adrien wished he could cataclysm the ground and swallow himself whole.

Ladybug was going to kill him. No. Not just kill. Murder him in the worst possible way and then bury his body deep into the ground where no one would be able to find him. He was dead. So dead. Goodbye Plagg. I hope the newest Chat Noir will be good to him and give him as much cheese as he wants and-  

“Silly kitty.” Marinette said as she tugged him back along across the street. She said it in such a sweet way that it pulled Adrien out of his thoughts. “Let’s go get you cleaned up and I will feed you to your heart’s content. And I’ll bring up a cheese danish for Plagg too.”

Wait, she wasn’t shocked? She’s not mad that I spilled my secret identity to her? Or freaking out that I’m the cat that keeps showing up to her balcony... Wait. Plagg? She knew who Plagg was? How does she know Plagg?  His eyes shot open. “Marinette? Are you-? You know-?”  

Marinette turned around quickly and placed her finger to his lips. “Not here, not now, and yes.”

Adrien.exe has stopped working.  

He didn’t remember walking through the bakery doors. Or saying hello to Marinette’s parents. Or being shoved into her bathroom with a new shirt, pants, socks, and boxers (note to ask her later why she has clothes his size). Only when the cold water started hitting his face was when he realized where he was.

Walking back towards her kitchen was when Adrien noticed Marinette finished up scooping a plate of dumplings from the pot on the stove. He sat down and quietly gave his thanks as she handed him the meal. He didn’t want to look up at her, but he knew the inevitable question needed to be said. He knew there was no way around this. He blurted out his identity and per the rules...

“Are you going to tell me I need to give up my miraculous now that I’ve given away my identity?” He said sadly as he moved the dumplings around in his bowl. Marinette looked up at him without saying a word. “I’m sorry My L- Marinette. I never meant to blurt it out. It just happened out of nowhere! This day was the day from hell and I wasn’t even thinking and now that you’re the guardian, I know you like the rules, and... and... at least let me say goodbye to Plagg first!”

Marinette set her spoon down carefully and folded her hands on her lap. “I’m not going to take your Miraculous from you. You slipped. It was an accident, a dumb one at that, but at least you said it to the one person who understands and won’t make a fuss about it.”

Oh.  

“Plus, do you think that I could replace you? My kitty and my best friend, the two boys that I care the most about in this world is sitting in front of me as one person. I couldn’t replace you in my life even if I tried – which I won’t by the way.” She picked her spoon back up and started to gather some broth before taking a sip. “This is fine. I’m fine. You’re fine. We are fine.”

Adrien furrowed his brows as he watched her in an eerily composed state. “Marinette, I know you. Why aren’t you freaking out?”

“Oh, I’m freaking out. Badly. But I’m internalizing it until later when I can scream into my pillow.” She said with a smile. “Right now, I just want to make sure you are fed and that we get back to class without another clothing change.”

Adrien let out a breath that he was holding in. “Okay. Maybe my luck is turning around now. I have my lady and my best friend sitting in front of me. You gave me clothes and carried me-” Adrien turned bright red. “Now I know why you were able to carry me to the nurse's office! You don’t look as strong as you are. I bet everyone else said the same thing!”  

“Yup. Plus, you were saying some adorable things while you were knocked out. Something about Ladybug and her amazing ability of being strong?” She smirked. “And how my hands felt so soft without the suit? Yeah. Something like that.”

Adrien groaned as he hit his head against the table. Just kill me now. Stop my misery please! I beg you.  

“Nope. Sorry kitty. Not letting anyone kill you today.”

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“Nope.” She said as she popped the ‘p’. “This is just too good to let go. Not for a very loooooong time.”

Dammit.  

[trvelyans-archive]

for @goblin-deity, pollux and ortega being cute via text because writing fics that include text conversation is my fave thing ever <3 i hope you enjoy this lovely owen !!!

---

It’s rainy season in Los Diablos, and today is no exception. Occasionally a gust of wind sends the tools on your shelves rattling, and though the sound of you working on your armor drowns out the worst of the noise, it’s hard to ignore the constant flickering of the albeit dim overhead lights and the creaking of your base around you, threatening to collapse underneath the pressure of the wind and rain at any second.

You sit back on your heels with a sigh, wiping a bead of sweat from your forehead, and examine your handiwork. It’s been a learning experience to figure out how to repair your own armor – there’s a million different components to consider – but you’re definitely starting to get a better hang of it, and it looks almost just as good as it would if Mortum had done it. You lean down to pick up your wrench again when you feel your phone vibrating in your pocket and you stick a hand inside to fish it out. Of course it’s Ortega, and of course he sent you five messages in a row without realizing how irritating that is. You frown and stand up, opening your phone as you pad towards your workbench, hoisting yourself on top of it as you read.

Ortega: Hey, Pollux, what are you doing tonight?

Lux?

If you’re alive, blink twice.

Sorry, that was supposed to be a joke but you probably won’t find it funny.

Anyway, text me when you get these. I’m trying to be rational but I’m also 50% convinced your lying in a ditch somewhere so… yeah. Give me a call, will you?

You bite your lip, quickly typing out a response you hope will annoy him and hitting send.

You: *you’re

You’re about to put your phone down and get back to work when Ortega replies.

Ortega: Hey :)

You: You’re just going to ignore me correcting your spelling like that?

Ortega: I don’t really care. How are you? Are you okay?

Before you can reply, another couple messages come in. You roll your eyes as you read them, biting back the smile spreading across your face.

Ortega: Love you.

Hope you’ve been doing well.

You: You’re turning into such a romantic.

Ortega from eight years ago wouldn’t believe this with his own eyes.

Ortega: He was a self-absorbed jackass.

You: You’re saying that like you aren’t still a self-absorbed jackass.

Ortega: I like to think I’m less of both, but fair enough, I guess. How are you, really?

You: Busy.

Ortega: Mmmm. I love it when you talk dirty.

You: I’m going to throw my phone into the ocean.

Ortega: No, I was just kidding!

You: What if I did it anyway?

Ortega: :(  

You laugh, running a hand through your hair and pulling it out of its ponytail as you tap out another response.

You: I won’t for now. Did you have a reason for annoying me today or were you just bored?

Ortega: Are you ever going to stop being so caustic?

You: Ooo, fancy word. Did you have to look up synonyms for ‘asshole’ to find it, or…

Ortega: That’s not what I meant, and that’s also not what I thought it meant. My aunt said it to my mom a couple weeks ago and I’ve been trying to work it into conversation.

You: You’re hopeless.

Ortega: Hopelessly in love with you, maybe.

Groaning, you consider smashing your phone with a hammer, or perhaps dousing it in acid, but instead decide to give in and play whatever game he’s secretly challenging you to. You’ll get the best of him. You always do.

Most of the time, anyway.

Besides, if you don’t have a phone to text him with, he’ll probably end up tracking you down and kidnap you to his apartment to play board games and eat cheese bread and watch movies. At least talking on the phone staves off his undying desire for quality time a little.

Not that you’re entirely opposed to it, but… you have better things you could be doing. Like right now, for instance. Your villain armor is hanging open in your workshop, begging you to crawl inside and fine-tune the HUD, and instead you’re wiping your fingers on a dirty rag so you don’t get oil on your phone screen when you message Ortega back.

You: Shut up.

Or I’ll throw my phone out.

Ortega: You keep saying that, and yet here you are, still texting me…

You: Do you want me to do it, then?

Ortega: No, of course not.

Sometimes it feels like we talk in circles. We had this conversation already. Let’s move on to another one! :)

What are you doing tonight?

You: Being busy.

Ortega: Creative excuse, I like it.

:)

Seriously, though. You have any plans?

You: Depends who’s asking.

Ortega: ???

You: I know it’s you texting me, idiot. It’s just a thing that people say.

Ortega: Oh, I thought…

Sorry. Never mind. It doesn’t matter. Are you going to answer my question?

You: I’m doing nothing tonight.

Ortega: Do you mean actually nothing or nothing you’re going to tell me about?

You: Neither. Both. Get to the point.

Ortega: You should come over.

You keep telling me you’re busy lately, and I get that – well, I don’t, not really, but I pretend to so I don’t piss you off – but I miss you.

I’ll pay for the cab.

You: Have you looked outside, Ortega?

Ortega: I have a change of clothes here at my house with your name on it.

You: I bet you bought the wrong size.

Ortega: I didn’t.

I asked Argent what size she thought you were and got it. They’re PJs, and they’re comfy, I promise. I’m pretty sure they’re silk, but don’t quote me on that.

They have little lightning bolts on them.

I thought you’d look cute wearing them.

;)

You: Don’t tell me you got me fluffy socks too…

Ortega: I was tempted, but you’d probably end up tripping on them.

You: Asshole.

Ortega: I just mean because your feet are so small!

You: Still, asshole.

Ortega: Come on, Pollux. I bet hanging out at my place would be better than doing nothing wherever you are…

(Where are you???)

You: Did you get yourself a pair of matching PJs?

You wait for half a minute before Ortega starts typing again. It’s a picture this time, though, not a text, and even though it’s about as blurry as a picture could be, you can faintly make out the tight lightning-bolt printed shirt he’s wrangled over his shoulders.

What an idiot. What a dork. Your heart feels like it’s going to burst open in your chest and you clear your throat to compose yourself even though he isn’t even around to notice.

Asshole.

You: You just put mine on, didn’t you?

Ortega: Maybe. I’ll wear the top, you wear the bottoms. Sound like a plan?

You: You’re not going to convince me that easy.

Ortega: Okay, fine. You wear the top, I’ll wear the bottoms. Or I’ll wear none. Or we can both wear none. Is that better?

You: Go to Hoots or something if you’re this horny.

Ortega: Jeez, way to just come out and say it like that!

You: You’re not denying it.

Ortega: I didn’t care to. That’s not why I texted you, though.

That’s just an added bonus.

You: There was a perfect opportunity for a joke in there.

Ortega: I know, and I almost said it, but I thought maybe you’d kill me through the screen.

You: I’m tempted anyway, so that couldn’t have made it much worse.

Ortega: Is there anything I can say to convince you to come over?

You lean back against the wall and tap your tongue against the roof of your mouth, thinking it over. You’ve done a lot of work today, all things considered, and you could use a break.

You: I don’t know. What do you think?

Ortega: Maybe I could send you a picture?

You let out a huff of breath and squirm slightly where you sit, flattening your hand against your thigh as you consider your reply.

You: Don’t tell me you’re just going to find a picture on the internet and send it to me…

Ortega: I’m perfectly proud of what I’m packing, thank you very much.

Besides, you’d know if it wasn’t mine. Don’t think I forgot the good look you took at it last time you saw it…

;)

You: Those are some big words, Ricardo…

Ortega: I can let you in on a couple other big things.

You: Ugh. Smug asshole.

You grit your teeth.

Imagine if Tia Elena heard you talking like this.

Ortega: Please don’t bring up Mama when I’m trying to sext you.

You: I thought you were trying to get me to come over.

Ortega: I was, but I didn’t think you were going to change your mind.

Are you?

You: Maybe if you convince me.

Ortega: Do you want my face in the picture?

You let out a laugh and hop down from the workbench, carefully tip-toeing around the scattered tools on the ground as you head for the rickety couch in the corner of the room with your eyes trained on your phone.

You: Like you could bend like that, old man.

Ortega: I could for you.

You: I don’t want your broken back or your hospital bills on my conscience. You gonna send the picture or not?

Ortega: Mmm. Impatient, are we?

You: If you’re not going to send it I can just get back to work…

Ortega: No, no, I’ll send it, hang on.

You wait impatiently with his chat screen open as you settle in on the couch, ignoring the temptation to start rubbing your thighs together. You’re not pathetic enough to start getting yourself off before Ortega even sends a picture, and you’re not even sure if it’s going to be good enough to get you horny, too, so you don’t want to warm yourself up for nothing.

It’s weird how normal it’s become to have this sort of relationship with Ortega. When you were Sidestep, you dreamt about it too much and too strongly to be anything but embarrassed by it, and now that it’s real you can barely believe it sometimes. Sure, things have changed – you’ve changed, too, more than anything – but you can’t deny that it makes you feel a little bit like your younger self. What you could’ve been, maybe.

What you can’t be anymore. But you’re going to push those thoughts out of your head right now.

You zoned out staring at the wall, and when your phone buzzes in your hand you practically jump half a foot in the air. You’re still not used to someone having such easy access to talking to you, and you’re certainly not used to having your phone on vibrate (you had it on mute for a long time before Ortega called you drunk and on the verge of tears one night thinking you had died because you didn’t answer). You take a breath before looking down at the screen and yup, there it is, Ortega’s cock in high definition.  

Ortega: You like?

;)

You definitely do, but you didn’t have enough time to appreciate it.

You: The picture is good but your follow-up messages basically just turned me completely off.

Ortega: :(

You’re kidding, right? It took me so long to take that picture.

You: Don’t want it all to be for nothing?

Ortega: I do text my mom with this phone, you know.

Jesus, why am I talking about my mom when I’m trying to jack off?

You’re killing me, Pollux.

Don’t you know it.

You take a longer look at the picture before replying. At the bottom of the screen, you can just make out Ortega’s hand wrapped around himself, and you know for a fact it’s just because he wants to show off how big his cock is in comparison to his fingers. You stifle a smile and bite your lip, giving in and sliding a hand in between your legs. You don’t move it, and you don’t take your pants off or anything, either. You just leave it there, waiting, wondering.

You: Send a video?

Ortega: Christ. Okay.

Gimme a minute.

You: Mmm.

Ortega: Don’t send me that ‘mmm’. I’m trying to save myself for when you come over.

You: Oh, you think I’m coming over now, do you?

Ortega: Definitely. Wait until you hear the noises I’m making in this video if you’re not already convinced.

You: Are you done?

Ortega: Yeah, I’m just watching it again to make sure it’s good.

You: Jesus.

Ortega: I want to make sure it gets you going!

You: Using the exclamation point made it 100% less likely for you to ‘get me going’.

Ortega: You’re mean.

Here I am baring my soul for you and you don’t even care.

You: I care about this video you haven’t sent yet.

Ortega: It’s sending! It’s very long.

You: …

Ortega: I meant the video.

You: Sure you did.

Your phone buzzes as the video finally comes in and you look at the door to your workshop to make sure it’s closed and locked. You don’t know who would come in, but whoever they could be you want to make sure they can’t. You turn your volume all the way up and sink lower against the arm of the couch, turning up your phone brightness until the reflected light of Ortega’s virtual cock slants against the wall behind you.

It’s an obscene video, of course. If he sent this to his mother she’d probably exorcise him, but you enjoy it, in any case. It feels a little stupid, though, to hear him whispering your name into his phone’s speaker, to hear the crackling of the recording as you hold your phone closer to your face to get a better look at it. It’s a good video – you’re not denying that – but it certainly isn’t as efficient as it would be for you to just… go over, maybe, and see it all in person.

Ortega: Did it send?

You: Yeah.

Ortega: Well?

You: You said you’ll pay for the cab?

Ortega: Pollux, I’d pay for a private jet if that’s what it took for you to come over right now.

You glance at the clock on the wall. If you call a cab now, you can be at Ortega’s in 45 minutes.

You: I’ll be there in an hour.

Ortega: :(

Well I’ll be waiting. Should I put my clothes back on?

You: You took ALL your clothes off?

Ortega: …

I was excited.

You: Hmm.

Ortega: Pollux…

No. Leave them off.

Ortega: Your wish is my command.

But hurry, please.

You lock the door to your workshop behind you as you rush to change into something a little cleaner before the cab gets here. A black hoodie with a blue long-sleeve t-shirt underneath, some loose sweatpants that you don’t bother tying up all the way. You’ll be lucky if you even have time to stumble to his bedroom and take your clothes off when you finally get there, to be honest. You’re probably barely going to be able to make it through the front door.

You hurry to climb inside the cab when it arrives, and you swear nothing in the world has ever felt longer than the ride to Ortega’s.

[pffbts]

May I please have an imagine where the reader is comforting an upset/sad Tae? Thank you 💞

―genre: fluff; angst.

―paring: taehyung x female reader | no supporting character.

―w.c: 1.2K

―author`s note: okay, someone take me away and throw me to the pit of hell like why am i turning little imagines into a more than 1K words fic. this is disrespectful and satisfying at the same time. thank you for requesting this magical idea. i had fun writing it, i hope you love it too as much as i loved writing it! much love

also, for similar idea-centric writing check this out from my main blog.

[12:50 AM] [the moonlight mingled with the dim street lights that makes someone`s skin glow in the darkness of that someone`s room]

― taehyung called it love – the moment he collapsed on top of you, he became vulnerable and he knew that you know how much he was trusting you at this very moment. it wasn`t anything sexual, it was just him laying on top of his entire world, embracing you as if it`s the way he was comforted by your presence in such a way that there is a moment of abandon.

he was still in his outside clothes but they were quite comfortable and you could tell it by the way the fabric feels like feathers underneath your skin - his silver coloured silk shirt and his blue denim jeans. they almost smell like just bought from some high fashion store. but even though his face remained pushed against your chest, you could almost feel like his tall stature wasn`t bothering you much. instead, it felt comforting.

taehyung felt your fingers massaging his scalp. he knew it was just out of habit but if there`s any one word to describe this feeling was orgasmic. call him stupid but he gets turned on by the way your fingers casually combs his hair. taehyung fell into a puddle as he felt the soft peaks of your chest nudging his cheeks while you inhale and exhale simultaneously.

taehyung first thought about talking to a therapist, then he thought he should just talk to namjoon, then he thought about jimin but when he had a dream of counting the ridges of your lips before diving into a heartwarming kiss, he jolted from his seat after the show and took the first car to get out from the venue and to the little, absolutely tiny apartment of yours in a little neighbourhood away from the hectic traffic of seoul.

he never rang the doorbell. instead he always pulls out the spare key that you gave him after you started going out with him. home or not, he would just lie there on your bed – which was always unmade (perks of having  a messy girlfriend). he never minds because he hasn`t been always the clean freak type.

it was like coming to library and sitting there in silence with a random book because – why you ask – sometimes silence, absolutely pin drop silence is all you want. this small apartment with one single bed, a small mini bathroom, a little kitchen by the corner and the large sliders almost covering ¼ of your room sounds just like that kind of place for him. to him the cherry on top part was having your smell inhaled into his system every so often while he covers himself with your blanket. all he had to do was take his shirt off and he could already feel the warm that you left for him, unconsciously.

taehyung was sad and it wasn’t everyday that you get to see this happy and weird man in your life get sad.  when he had opened the door, you were lying on your side facing the cream coloured wall. he had walked inside your room like a snail dragging himself to his safe haven. when you turned around on your back, he had taken his shoes off. you were almost going to tease him because of his sex appealing outfit. you almost thought he was going for that mood. but then your fingers touched your lips as you caught a glimpse of his puffy red eyes.

taehyung switched off the light in your room. he just wanted you and the moonlight around him and absolutely nothing else. when he climbed on top of you, he couldn`t make out your expression – just as he wanted. he just pulled the blanket off of your body and slumped on top of  yours. fuck pillows back in his dorm room, fuck the room heater and dim lights in his room – he had you and your soft pillowy chest (bras and both of you don`t stay in the same lane – you both are disgusted by that goddamn object), and your whole system to keep him warm and at home. fuck those million won dorm rooms – he felt enough here in some 50 sq. feet room with the haven of his life.

the orgasmic state was flowing through his veins now, reaching into the tips of his toes and the tip of his fingers. he could feel the tears being catalyzed to flow out. a few seconds, you thought, a few seconds and the man on top of you will become a little kid and cry like he wasn`t just messing up your oversized t-shirt with his drool and tears. you were certain he was going to mess your shirt up with all kinds of body fluids.

you let him cry as much as he wanted. as much as his body could. you didn`t ask why and he didn`t tell you the reason. both of you just telepathically knew he needed this arms of yours around him and he needed your chest, especially the middle of your chest to smash his face and muffle his cries. you felt his stomach clenching and unclenching over your pelvic region and his strong yet slender legs were completely loose of any movement on top of your bare ones.

it was open and intimate. a timeless moment when sex seems like some far away activity. it was love which came before this act of embracing each other.

taehyung was right. when he shifted after a half an hour crying session, he saw how your eyes were closed and your lips were parted. it looked just like his dream. he called it déjà vu as he placed one of his fingertips on top of your lower lip. your eyes opened to watch a much-fascinated taehyung looking down at your parted lips and you could almost see what he was thinking.

the digital clock beside your bed on top of your little desk said 12:50 A.M and the moonlight mingled with the dim street light covered half of your face making it glow like the brightest thing in this room, in front of taehyung.

and, all he could think about is how the ridges of your lips felt exactly the same when he dreamt about it.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

I-J’s Top 20 Bookmarks of 2018

I’M A BIT LATE WITH THIS, but I’ve been meaning to do this for awhile. I want to start reccing more fics that people haven’t asked for, and thought this was a good way to start that :P

After I made my Top 30 Read-Again Fics (March 2019) fic list, I thought hmm, why not just make a list of my fave fics I bookmarked in 2018? Because why not? 

So here we are; it was a RIDICULOUSLY hard selection process (it was supposed to be only 10!), since everything I bookmark are amazing stories. I kept the criteria to fics I’ve only read for the very first time in 2018 and then proceeded to bookmark, so these aren’t necessarily fics that were released in 2018, just stuff I’ve read and bookmarked.

ANYWAY, without further ado, in word count order:

I-J’s TOP 20 BOOKMARKS of 2018

See also: 

Top 20 Fave 40K+ w. Fics (April 2017 ) 

I-J’s Last 50 Bookmarked Fics (June 2017) 

Last 17 Bookmarked Fics July 2017

Last 30 Bookmarked Fics November 2017 

Ten Fave Short Johnlock Fics (Easy Reads April 2018) 

25 Fave Johnlock One Shots (April 2018) 

Top 10 Fave Fics (September 2018) 

Novel Length Fics: 50 to 100K (Nov. 2018)

Last 86 Bookmarked Fics (Jan 2019) || [MOBILE] 

Top 30 Read-Again Fics (March 2019)

A Study in Lace by KarlyAnne (E, 2,320 w. || Est. Rel., Crafty Sherlock, Tiny Lace Panties / Lingerie, Domestics, Experiments, Oral, Masturbation) – “Why do you suppose he was doing that?” “Why do I suppose who was doing what?” “The room. The lace. The secrecy. He was playing with fire in everything he did, and didn’t care one bit. But he had a secret chamber, carefully concealed, solely for the purpose of making lace lingerie. Obviously for personal use. Why?" Part 1 of The Unintentional Crafts of Sherlock Holmes

Lingerie by Sexxica (E, 4,135 w. || Valentine’s Day, Lingerie / Women’s Underwear, Mildly Public Masturbation, Picture Texting / Sexting, Bottomlock, Body Worship, Anal Sex / Fingering, Rimming, Orgasm Delay / Denial, Est. Rel.) – It's Valentines Day and Sherlock is taking John to Angelo's for dinner. Sherlock also happens to be wearing a garter belt, stockings and a rather small pair of women's underwear under his clothes. There's no dessert at Angelo's because John needs to get Sherlock home just as quickly as he can before they both lose their minds entirely.

If He Knows by shamelessmash (M, 4,513 w. || TSo3 Fic, Pining Sherlock, Bed Sharing, Angst, Sherlock POV, Texting, Internal Monologue, Blanket Forts) – I imagine mornings: John handing me a cup of tea, hair sticking out at odd angles. How he would bend down to kiss me, smiling fondly as he pulls away. The way his skin crinkles at the corner of his eyes, the way his skin looks in the morning light. The soft sigh as he sits in his chair with the morning paper, the way his toes curl in the carpet, the way he rolls his shoulders before sinking deeper into his seat. I watch him, how he is when he is content, as it should be. As he deserves. Happy. With me.

When to Let Go by KendylGirl (M, 22,109 w. || Friends to Lovers, Reverse Reichenbach, Sacrifice, Forgiveness, Angst, Love, Implied Drug Use) – What if it were John who had to die to thwart Moriarty's plans? John's supposed death shatters Sherlock, and when he returns, it will challenge the pair to forge a path of forgiveness, to peace, and to find a way back to each other. Part 1 of When to Let Go

Another Auld Lang Syne by DiscordantWords (M, 30,234 w. || Post S4, Mutual Pining, Alternating POV, Introspection, Parentlock, Christmas, New Year’s, First Kiss, Past Drug Use, Angst with Happy Ending, Drinking, Sherlock Whump) – There had been years of missed chances.

Chaperones by MissDavis (T, 34,114 w. || 11 Years Post-S4, Fake Relationship, Parentlock, Disney World, Bed / Room Sharing, Friends to Lovers, Fluff, First Kiss, Obsessive Sherlock, Insecure John) – Right. Of course. Everyone assumed they were a couple and no one would question it. John put his elbows up on the table so he could rest his head in his hands. "You want to pretend to be a couple so we can chaperone a trip to Disney World with Rosie's class and you won't have to share a room with a stranger?" "Exactly." Sherlock beamed at him. "Don't worry about the cost. The Birmingham case last month paid more than enough to cover expenses for all three of us."

Nothing to Make a Song About by emmagrant01 (E, 36,833 w. || Post-TRF, First Time, Reunion, Jealous John, Pining Sherlock, Romance, Angst with Happy Ending, Sherlock Has a Boyfriend) – When Sherlock returned from his faked death, John could not forgive him for the deception and broke off their friendship. Ten years later, John returns to London in search of yet another new beginning. Sherlock, not surprisingly, is waiting.

The Unfinished Letters by SilentAuror (E, 37,391 w. || Post S3 / S3 / HLV Fix it, Angst with Happy Ending, Romance, Infidelity, Depression, Case Fic, POV Third Person Sherlock, Love Confessions, Pining Sherlock, Letters) – A fire at Baker Street leads John to read something he was never intended to see: a notebook of half-written, unfinished letters Sherlock wrote during his time away...

Set in Stone by SilentAuror (E, 39,309 w. || Romance, Wedding, Therapy, Fluff and Angst) – Sherlock and John are back from Ravine Valley and planning their wedding. However, as they move past the trial of the human traffickers, Sherlock can't help but wonder if he's imagining that John is becoming a little distant. Surely he isn't getting cold feet about the wedding... Part 2 of The Ravine Valley series

In the Still of the Night by SilentAuror (E, 42,234 w. || S4 Fix It / Post-S4, Sherlock POV, Angst, Drama, Romance, Virgin Sherlock, Awkwardness, Misunderstandings / Miscommunications, Case Fic, Travelling, Pining) – As locals on the Northeastern coast begin to report UFO sightings, life at Baker Street becomes significantly awkward as John brings up his desire for more than friendship and Sherlock refuses him. They embark on the investigation from the confines of the tiny cottage Mycroft has rented for them, attempting to navigate both the clues of the case as well as their own inability to communicate...

Bloody But Unbowed by BeautifulFiction (E, 43,211 w. || Abduction, John Whump, Mild Torture, Background Case Fic, Friends to Lovers, Post-TRF / S3 Rewrite, Hurt/Comfort) – When a familiar argument threatens to destroy the last remnants of John and Sherlock's failing friendship, both men are left questioning their worth to one another. Before either of them has the chance to make amends, circumstance intervenes. John is left at the mercy of his abductors, and this time, he's not sure Sherlock will bother coming to his rescue.

floating through a dark blue sky by Lediona (M, 58,966 w. || Notting Hilll AU || POV John, Celebrity Sherlock, First Date / Time / Kiss, Past Drug Addiction, Angst with a Happy Ending) – Of course, I’d seen his films and always thought he was, well, brilliant -- but, you know, a million miles from the world I live in. Or, when John is the owner of a travel book shop and the famous Sherlock Holmes stops in one day.

The Book of Silence by SilentAuror (E, 60,056 w. || S4 Fix It / Post S4, Virgin Sherlock, Rosie / Parentlock, Domesticity, Fluff, Praise Kink, Sex Toys, First Person POV) – As spring blooms in London, John and Sherlock begin to take new cases and cautiously negotiate this new phase of life with John living at Baker Street again. Despite how well it's all going, John struggles to forgive himself for the way he treated Sherlock following Mary’s death as well as trying to figure out how to finally put his long-time feelings for Sherlock into words. Part 1 of The Book of Silence/Rosa Felicia

Summit Fever by J_Baillier (M, 78,802 w. || Mountain Climber AU || POV John, Angst, Tragedy, Suicidal Ideation, The Himalayas, Mountain Guide / Doctor John, Mount Climber Sherlock, Loneliness, Drama, Suspense, Slow Burn, Injured Sherlock / Sherlock Whump, Pining John) – After graduating from medical school, John Watson followed his heart to the Himalayas. Ten years later, he's a haunted cynic working for his ex-lover's trekking and mountaineering company. Will leading an expedition to Annapurna I—the most lethal of all the world's highest mountains—shake John out of his reverie, and who is the mystery client added to the group at the last minute?

Uphill by scullyseviltwin (E, 84,945 w. || Olympics AU || Sherlock POV, Skier!Sherlock / Medic!John, Rivalry, 2014 Olympics, Happy Ending) – Sherlock Holmes is striving for gold in this, his fourth and final Olympics as a downhill Alpine racer.

A Study in Winning by Jupiter_Ash (E, 106,658 w. || Tennis AU || John POV, Dirty Talk, Mutual Pining, Misunderstandings, Happy Ending, Sherlock Speaks French, Switchlock, Wimbledon) – John and Sherlock are professional tennis players and it’s Wimbledon. One is a broken almost was at the end of his career, the other an arrogant rising star tipped for greatness. It should have been a straightforward tournament. It really should have been. How were they to know that a chance encounter would change everything? Part 1 of Tennis

Eyes Up, Heels Down by CodenameMeretricious (E, 107,845 w. || Sports Equestrian AU || Fluff, Angst, Humour, Rider!Sherlock, Groomer!John, Show Jumping, Slow Burn, Happy Ending) – Sherlock is a top eventing rider currently training at Baker Farms. John is the new groom who's been told to steer clear of the surly rider and his horses. Part 1 of Baker Farms

The Burning Heart by May_Shepard (M, 119,150 w. || Canon Divergence, Post-TRF, John’s Sexuality, S3 Rewrite, Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, POV John Watson, John’s Gay) – When Sherlock dies, John Watson feels like his life is over too. He’s completely shut down, until Mark Morstan, a new nurse at John’s medical clinic, catches his attention, and helps him uncover the long buried truth of his attraction to men. Although he’s certain he’ll never get over Sherlock, John plans to move on, and build a new life with Mark, unaware that Sherlock is not quite as dead as he appears, and that Mark is hiding secrets of his own.

The Horse and his Doctor by khorazir (T, 129,003 w. || Horse / Vet AU || Magical Realism, Horses, Vet John, Horse Sherlock, Implied Alcoholism) – Invalided after a run in with a poacher in Siberia, veterinary surgeon John Watson finds it difficult to acclimatise to the mundanity of London life. Things change when a friend invites him along to a local animal shelter and he meets their latest acquisition, a trouble-making Frisian with the strangest eyes and even stranger quirks John has ever encountered in a horse.

Gimme Shelter by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John (E, 159,368 w. || 70′s Surfer AU || Period Typical Homophobia, Hawaii, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Professional Surfers, Gay John / Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, John was a Sailor, Misunderstandings) – All John Watson wants is the feeling of a freshly waxed surfboard under his feet and the hot California sun baking down onto his back. To finally go pro in the newly formed world of professional surfing and leave the dark memories of his past behind him as he rips across the face of a towering blue barrel. To lounge beside the beach bonfire every evening with an ice cold beer tucked into the cool sand beside him and listen to Pink Floyd and the Doors while the saltwater dries in his sun bleached hair. That's all he wants, that is, until the hot young phenom taking Oahu and the Hawaiian shores by storm steps up next to him in the sand in the second round of the 1976 International Surf Competition.