#how did he do this with a straight face oh my god the poodle

[leaveharmony]

Ok if he goes full frankenstein's monster here this ordeal might actually be worth it

I have two questions about Medium Rare:

How the fuck did this get made and

How the fuck did he get roped into it lol

[oftenderweapons]

Hi!! I need to not forget to leave this idea with a trusted author so I’ve chosen to slide into ur asks w this very nsfw thing: Joon using a dick pump and vixen using a pussy pump. Simultaneously. Then having sex. That is all! I just wanted to share this with someone that could find use of it 😭

Hello, it's officially Joonsday and we're big time celebrating (sorry for the ugly banner I'm on a road trip with the fam) lessgooooooo

Pairing: Namjoon x reader (Vixen)

Wordcount: 3.5k words

Genre: smut? Pwp? Established relationship? Yes.

Warning: 18+ y'all better be adults if you're going to read this.

Trigger warnings: clearly, swearing, dick pump, pussy pump, vibrating cockring (it's becoming quite the thing for these two???) cumplay (he cums on her chest), creampie, unprotected sex (use CONDOMS PLEASE), DDLG (daddy) kink, making out, touch deprivation (? Kinda?), experimenting, mentions of oral, mentions of exhibitionism/voyeurism.

Here's my masterlist and enjoy 💜✨

Beta read by the one and only super patient golden-hearted wife, @joheunsaram

******

It was past nine pm when Namjoon entered the apartment, his eyes immediately focusing on your frame curled up on the sofa, under your chunky knit blanket. He needed to get you a pet.

You loved Moni, but he couldn't have him at his place that often since he was more of his family's dog than his.

He should get you something fluffy. Something that matched your personality. Like a toy poodle. Or a corgi.

No, a corgi wasn't fluffy enough…

He was sure he would find something suitable in a shelter. Maybe a cat? Something to keep you company.

Tutting, he shook his head as his mind wandered, trying to distract him from the panic he had been going through only a couple minutes ago. He reminded himself his current anxiety was due to surprising you with an unexpected gift, so he realised that launching himself into planning another surprise — a permanent one — was maybe not the smartest move.

Kneeling beside you, he touched his lips to your temple. “Hello, Vixen,” he spoke gently, his private voice making your eyes open, your arm reaching out of the blanket to hold him to yourself.

“Hi, baby. Did you eat? Tell me they fed you.”

He smiled. “Yeah. I grabbed dinner with Yoongi in the studio.”

You nodded and nuzzled up closer, kissing his neck sensually. “Wake me up?”

He chuckled. “Needy, baby?”

You nodded and frowned. “I'm getting my period in two days. You know I get needy.”

His knowing smile shifted to a loving one. “I know.” He looked at your face for a couple seconds, just taking in every detail. The fullness of your lips and the slight blush on your cheeks, the way you looked puffy after sleep, so soft and delicate and all his.

Oh so his.

Not falling into your temptation was almost a crime. Especially as you stretched your neck, lips lingering just one millimeter away from his.

“Ask, love.” His voice was gravelly against your face.

You looked away and relaxed your shoulders, not realising you had arched up towards him. In return he chuckled and ran the tip of his nose against your cheek. “You don’t like asking, mh?” His lips were velvety against your cheekbone. “Poor little fox.” You turned just in time for his mouth to meet yours, letting him have your sweetest whimper as his hand cupped the back of your neck, holding you. “I have a question for you, babylove.”

You stopped and backed an inch, looking him in the eye. “What kind of question?”

He sat up straight. “It makes me a bit nervous because this is not how we do it normally and… I feel like I went someplace uncharted without you and I’m a bit disoriented.”

You sat up too, feeling the nerves in his tone as he started talking faster, stuttering over his words a little.

“I… We usually shop together but I wanted to try this and I thought… I mean, we don’t have to do this and we can do this alone, or together, or… Or not do this at all or you can use this while I’m away and you need—”

“Joon,” you interrupted him, a hand on his shoulder as you tried to calm him down. “Hold on a second, darling.”

He shut his mouth and took a deep breath through his nose.

“You were shopping, correct?” you asked, trying to find reason in madness. He nodded. “What did you get? Toys, I assume?”

“Yes,” he replied calmly.

“Okay. Show me and then we can talk this out if you’d like.” You knew Namjoon’s brain tended to go a thousand miles a second, so you tried to limit the damage.

He stood and came back with a large box and scissors, opening the package. “It’s kinda scary at the beginning but… I think the final result is not that bad.”

“If that’s a furry mask I’m gonna scream and not in a good way,” you joked, trying to ease away the tension.

“Come on, we discussed that already. Hard no. No shaming, though.”

“No shaming,” you repeated, watching him open the lid and take another box out. “Oh my god.”

He looked at you, trying to interpret your reaction. “Good? Bad? Maybe?”

“Why would you make it… bigger? How do you even think I can handle bigger?” You stared at the… the thing and tried to wrap your brain around that.

“It’s not about getting bigger, it’s about lasting more.”

“We have cockrings for that!” you exclaimed, almost outraged. If anything perplexed and worried. Was he trying to break you? Send you to the ER? Because you much preferred saving yourself the embarrassment. “You’re gonna break me.”

He nodded and put the box away. “Okay, sorry.” He wasn’t even disappointed. After all he did know you were a tight fit on him and no matter how much he would stretch you, there were high chances of you getting hurt, and he obviously didn’t want that.

“No, no hold on,” you said as you realised your first reaction had been fear. “We can do that. Just not… Let’s say we can use that but the final goal is not penetration.”

Namjoon nodded. “That’s what I was thinking too. Plus, we could use that ring for buffering.”

“Yes,” you agreed. “And that should make you feel like… Like I’m sucking all of you, right?”

Namjoon halted for a second. “I don’t know, but that wouldn’t be the point.” He still remembered that one time you had almost had a breakdown because you couldn’t take more than a couple inches of him in your mouth. Since then, he had set the lowest bar in your sex life: not making you cry because you couldn’t deepthroat him. Somehow he was still traumatised by the memory. “It’s just a matter of giving you multiples, Vixen. Just that, Or fucking you feral, however you prefer to put it.”

You nodded.

“Plus it’s more of a… joined fantasy, actually,” he confessed, blushing and looking down.

So there were more surprises in that box. “Define?”

He took one more box out of the larger one. “It looks scarier than it is. It’s also, sort of… convoluted.”

You stared at the second toy, arching an eyebrow at it. “I don’t like things that keep your hands off me.”

“I know,” he reassured you, immediately touching your knee as a way to comfort you. “I know it, babylove. But this doesn’t mean my hands won’t be touching your body.”

Absentmindedly you nodded. “You want to try those now?”

He tipped his head from side to side in a so-and-so motion. “Only if you want to. We can wait till you get more acquainted with the idea.”

You thought about it for a second. “Those… devices technically mean no foreplay.”

“Well, they do the foreplay while we…” He hadn’t thought that far.

“We’ll just make out,” you said, standing up and grabbing your half of the kit. “Let’s take them out and wash them.”

Namjoon grabbed the other half and followed you. In your bathroom, you took out the toys, quickly scanning the instructions while he threw himself at his new object of interest, grabbing the toy soap and lathering everything in foam. “No reading?”

“It’s pretty easy,” he replied, rubbing everything thoroughly before rinsing and drying the tube. “I’ll read while I wait for you.”

He let the toy dry on the ledge and undressed, by now barely shy about walking around naked as he entered the shower and scrubbed himself clean with quick, brief strokes. In a bunch of minutes, you were sitting on the bed, reading the instructions of his device before he rolled down beside you, a towel around his waist. You were lounging in your panties and one of his shirts, his face already skimming the side of your thigh. “Come down here, miss Fox. Studying won’t get you straight As in this one.”

You chuckled and grabbed some lube. “Will you allow me the honour?”

Namjoon licked his lip and undid his towel, arching an eyebrow as he realised he already had a semi.

“Is it for the toy or the ‘fucking the class’s best student’ fantasy?” you teased him, pouring some cold lubricant on him in revenge.

“It’s all about having the sexiest girlfriend in the universe,” he flattered you, his hand squeezing your ass as you straddled him and grabbed the toy.

“You know you’re crazy for this, right?”

He nodded. “That makes two of us since you’re playing along.”

“Suck your dick,” you replied, saccharine sweet as you placed his cock into the plastic tube of the penis pump.

“Not when you’re so much better at that,” he cooed back, hissing a little once you pressed the base against his pelvis excessively hard — call it revenge. You studied the mechanism for starting to increase the pressure inside the cylinder. “Okay, fuck, it’s hot. I love the lube. Slippery.”

You appreciated the feedback. “Tighter?”

“Nah, hold on. We can tighten it later.” He bit his lip. “It’s very good. But… A bit cold.”

You stretched to his face and pushed his hair back. “I’ll warm it up next time. Sorry baby.” You kissed his lips, pampering him a little. He had looked so stressed earlier. And so eager too. He had to be both worried and excited about this. “My big bear,” you murmured, watching him melt for you. After all he was nothing but a tough looking boy with a gooey heart. “You were so nervous about this, huh?”

He nodded and caught your hand, holding it in his. “I love you,” he said with his million dollar smile, his eyes dreamy, his dimple shining on his face.

“I love you too, Joonie bear,” you murmured at him, your affection causing him to slip into the most peaceful of states. Yes, he felt like his dick was being squeezed and sucked, but he mostly felt entirely enamoured with you.

“Please, can you wear the toy too?”

You smiled and nodded. “Would you like to help?”

He stretched to kiss you again. He wanted more kisses. It had been so long since the two of you just made out and he missed that sometimes, just the intimacy of laying side by side, making out without things necessarily heating up. Of course he also loved when you got on top of him mid-session and ground on his thigh until you crumbled against his shoulder.

He loved even more when your hand would graze his lower belly before tracing his erection through his trousers, cupping him and squeezing him until he needed your hand on his length.

But the idea of laying side by side and focusing solely on your face was something too inviting for that night.

He sat up, a bit uncomfortable at the thing between his legs. “This makes it kinda hard to move,” he realised before finding your pvc cup. “Get comfy, my love,” he murmured before kissing your knee, crawling lower. Your legs stayed closed as you placed your feet on his thighs before getting rid of your shirt, letting him stare at the hardened peaks of your breasts. “You're so fucking gorgeous,” he murmured, his hands tracing the outside of your thighs, his frame shifting and stretching until he could reach for your chest, his thumbs feeling your pebbled nipples.

That was before you put the sole of your foot around his neck, pushing him back a little.

He was mesmerised by the gesture, feeling his brain short circuit as arousal hit him.

Now that he was far enough, you lifted your legs and quickly got rid of your panties, Namjoon barely resisting the need to press his whole face against your folds.

“Feisty,” he murmured, placing the toy on you, checking for your reaction. “Does it fit right?”

You nodded. “I'm tiny, it takes a bit more than it should but that's okay as long as it doesn't come off.”

He started pumping some pressure, still looking at your face to spot any discomfort.

“I think that's tight enough for now.”

He nodded and laid down beside you. “You wanna watch porn?”

You thought about it for a second. “Nah.” You rolled to the side, only to feel the toy limit your comfort.

“Maybe a pillow will help?” he mused, passing it to you.

“It feels strange. Static. Dry… Aseptic.”

He nodded. “Not a great feeling.” He also placed a pillow between his knees before cupping the back of your head and scooting closer to you. “Hi,” he whispered, breaking into a large smile.

“Hi,” you whispered back, joining your lips.

You didn't know how long you kissed, only that his hands were everywhere, rubbing your back, on your ass, pulling you closer, then pushing you back a little as he tried to massage your breasts, next tightening the pressure on your pussy pump.

“This good?” he asked, his lips already kissing the sweet spot below your ear. It made you purr and try to throw your leg over his, realising a minute too late that you couldn’t grind on him.

You made a disappointed little sound, Namjoon’s hands cupping your face and smoothening the frown on your brow with his thumbs. “It’s okay, little fox. Focus on me, babylove.”

With the most vulnerable expression, you brushed your lips to his as the tip of your nose played with his, his face glowing with a sudden bright smile before he drew a line of tiny smooches from your forehead to your chin. “I know, baby.”

“I don’t like this,” you whined, hiding your face into his neck. “I can’t feel you.”

He held you closer. “Would you like to take it off?” His hands were skimming every inch of your naked skin, soothing you.

“I don’t want to disappoint you,” you mewled weakly, feeling ashamed of the statement.

“You’re not disappointing me, ____. We’re doing this to know if we like it, my angel.” He caressed your hair.

“I can do this, I just need to get used to the lack of touching.”

“I know it’s a delicate topic for you. You can take it off and grind on me if you want,” he reassured you.

You found his pump mechanism and asked, “Do you want it tighter?”

He hummed and nodded.

You didn’t last much longer after that, mostly because Namjoon knew he was tiptoeing around a soft limit of yours and he could feel you were already vulnerable. He knew a couple tears would come after your orgasm, your body too emotionally challenged for you not to release all the tension in crying.

“Let’s take this off,” he whispered into your ear, the pressure on him too tight, almost unbearable after fifteen minutes with the pump on, three of which on the highest setting. He would make a mess of you. He knew it already. “I'm gonna cum a lot,” he said with a half-embarrassed chuckle.

“Is that an issue?” you mused, blocking his hand as he tried to remove your pump. “I… I want you to cum on me.” It was easier to say after all this time. He was almost used to it. The following request however was unusual. “On my chest.”

He nodded. “Are you sure?”

“I want you to distract me. I want to keep the toy, just distract me from it.” You bat your lashes at him. “Please.”

In his mind, he had opposed your idea for maybe half a second. “Okay. But I want you to use your safeword if need be.”

After he ascertained you remembered it, he waited for your approval on him straddling your waist, your hands immediately touching him, starting from the base and pulling to the tip, a thick blob of precum helping you as both your palms started massaging him.

“You’re so damn good at this,” he praised you. “You’re such a good girl to me.”

You glowed at the compliment, starting to stroke him more powerfully. “Thank you, daddy.”

“You’re welcome, little one,” he replied sweetly before a grunt left his lips, his body waving a little before he propped himself up with one hand. “If you keep it up, I’ll be covering your tits in cum in seconds, Vixen.”

“Isn’t that our goal?” you asked with faux naivety, noticing the way he was starting to swell.

While you angled his cock downwards, to your stomach, he placed a hand under your jaw. He wouldn’t want your face to get accidentally dirty. That was the last conscious act he did before he felt his balls tighten a bit more than earlier, a strong spurt of his semen landing on your neck, the second one between your breasts, and then a third on your left breast, your nipple peaked and glazed in his cum as he slowly came down from an unstoppable high.

“Thank you, daddy,” you said again, truly thankful for the vision of him braced over you, completely ecstatic, head thrown back as he roared in pleasure, his throat beautifully exposed.

Too bad you couldn’t put your mouth on it.

It took him a full minute to come back to reality, and when he did, he inevitably noticed that he was still hard and you were still unbelievably horny right below him.

“Joon?” you called.

“Yes, Vixen?”

“Do you think you can slip your cock inside me and make me cum with a vibrator on my clit?” Your request was posed curtly, efficiently, almost as if you were asking him how a telescope works.

He rose from his half slumber at that. “Sure about the vibrator?”

You nodded. “The mild one, you know. The one from your ring.”

He thought about it for a millisecond before kissing your forehead. “You’re a blessing”. He thought it even more as a cascade of chuckles left your mouth. He took off your pump, a tiny bit distracted by the need to suck on your wet nipple, to draw a hickey where your neck had been stained by his orgasm. Next he slipped in, slowly, whimpering at the way your cunt was soaked and puffy and full. “You feel so fucking incredible?”

“Different from usual?” you wondered, a tiny gasp leaving your mouth as he settled.

“Just very sensitive. Like round three at six in the morning,” he explained, you humming in understanding.

“It feels a bit like that actually, now that I think of it.” You laid back while he pressed the tip of the vibrator to your chest, collecting some slickness before bringing the toy to your clit and switching it on.

Your reaction was immediate. “I am sensitive,” you exclaimed before squealing, your inner walls contracting and Namjoon shifting a little. It was the combo of fullness and clitoral stimulation that made you come apart in three minutes. And then again, five minutes later.

Namjoon was shocked. After the second orgasm, he just pulled out and wore the ring, fucking you in earnest. Your usually difficult third high rolled around like nothing, Namjoon reaching his climax together with you.

He thought he was done but apparently not yet, his back on the mattress while you ground on him, taking a pause from the vibrations before placing them on the highest setting and riding him, sliding back and forth. You knew he preferred it when you bounced, but his hands led you on a rolling motion until you collapsed forward, too exhausted to cry out, just shivering in his arms, trembling as your muscles succumbed in fatigue.

“Goodness,” you exhaled once all toys were out of the picture, your body laying on top of Namjoon’s while you slipped his cock back inside you, enjoying the easy connection coming from the gesture.

“What a night,” he agreed. You were both sticky and needed a shower, but first he needed to make sure you were okay emotionally. And cockwarming was specifically what you both needed. “How are you?”

“Tired,” you replied straight away. “Very fucking in love with you.”

“Language,” he reminded you before holding you closer. The shivering wasn’t stopping.

“Let’s take a bath, mh? You’re shivering. You need to relax.” He rubbed your back energetically before massaging your thighs. “You did amazing, babylove.” He cuddled you some more, staying quiet for a minute before asking, “Do you still not like the toys?”

You shrugged. “Can we talk about that later? I’m not ready yet,” you replied, still too biased about the experience to give judgement.

He nodded. “Sure thing, little fox. Come on, to the bathroom.”

“To the bathroom,” you agreed with a yawn.

Namjoon smiled. He loved aftercare baths. But he loved you more.

[blindchannelimagines]

Pretty Lips

It all started because of a compliment.

You’ve often found yourself staring at your friend's lips; they looked so soft, red and plump and you wondered if he took care of them.

"Joonas, tell me your secrets!" you two were intimate enough to grab him by his cheeks, squishing them together so that his lips could look plumper. You glared at him playfully while he looked up at you in amusement. He was sitting on a stool, so you took advantage of the height difference to mess with him. His blonde, fluffy locks covered his blue eyes and he reminded you of something.

"You look like a poodle," you dared to say it out loud and squeaked when he slightly turned his head to bite your palm.

"How dare you!" he smirked and wrapped his arms around your waist to bury his face in between your breasts. Those fluffy curls, along with his beard, tickled your sensitive skin as he nuzzled affectionately, making you laugh.

"Hey, stop it! I'm the one who's supposed to torture you, you have to tell me your secrets!" your fingers gripped his curls, forcing him to pull away.

"You wanna know how I keep my lips moisturized?" Joonas purred with a cocky smirk. You eyed him suspiciously and your lips formed a thin line. 'He is going to say something inappropriate' you thought and yet, you nodded anyways. Curiosity killed the cat after all.

"Well, uh... how do I say this?" Joonas pretended to think about it, staring at the ceiling with a thoughtful expression. You sighed, as you knew damn well that he was doing it on purpose.

"Got my lips well moisturized because I eat pussy".

That answer was unexpected, and you burst out laughing. You knew he was going to say something obscene; he was your dearest friend after all. He was so dear to you that you purred nonchalantly:

"How come you've never moisturized your lips with my pussy, huh? I thought we were friends," leaving him dumbfounded. A hint of truth was hidden behind your words, and Joonas was aware of this.

"Oh," he hummed in response, tightening his grip around your body. That lustful gaze of his sent shivers down your spine.

"You want an actual demonstration of how I do it? Is this what you're trying to say, yes?" His tone of voice was so deep, so sensual, that your head started to spin. It was happening way too fast, and you were so fucking grateful for it.

"Yes," that was your only answer, before biting your lip eagerly. He smirked in return, standing up from the stool almost abruptly. A strangled squeak escaped from your mouth as you were grabbed by your hips and forced to sit on the kitchen counter. He pressed his plump lips onto yours and you melted in his tight embrace.

You have already kissed before; there's always been some sort of sexual tension between you two. There was a certain complicity in your looks. You didn’t smile at the others the same way you smiled at each other. You’ve always found an excuse to get into physical contact. Even your friends noticed that, in fact all of them wondered how come you still hadn’t gotten together yet.

He tilted his head to the side and deepened the kiss. His large hands caressed the soft flesh of your thighs, lifting your skirt. Joonas' lips never failed to drive you crazy; his skillful tongue and sloppy kisses were the reason why you were always achingly wet down there.

He was aware of this, in fact he didn't hesitate to slide his hand in between your legs, pressing two fingers against your clit through your wet panties. That action made you arch your back and whimper in need. The melodic sounds you were making spurred him on and, without wasting any more time, he forcefully parted your legs and bent down.

Staring at him with wide eyes, you bit your lip and slightly lifted your butt off the counter to help him get rid of your soaking panties. His gaze was intense as he eyed your wet cunt. You tried to wrap your legs around his head, eager to have his tongue deep inside of you.

Sloppy, open mouthed kisses against your inner thighs distracted you from your fervent desires. Your eyes rolled back for a second, not expecting that tingly sensation that made you shiver uncontrollably. Your hand found his blonde curls and immediately tangled your fingers through those messy locks. He bit a sensitive spot, and you pulled his hair, making you both groan in ecstasy.

"Stop teasing me Joonas, please..." your mewled desperately, thrusting your hips forward in a pathetic attempt to convince him.

Joonas was a merciful God and blessed you with His Benevolence.

You moaned aloud and your legs trembled a little as he finally buried his face in between your thighs. He groaned while savoring your essence, his mouth salivating as you coated his taste buds. Your hips kept squirming uncontrollably, making his tongue slip and slide against you. His thumbs dug into the flesh of your thighs as he pinned your lower half to the counter to keep you still.

The squelch below seemed to turn Joonas on more as he began to smooch and suck your pussy eagerly, not minding the mess he was making of his face. Your slick filthily coated his nose, lips, and chin, but that was exactly what he wanted as he rubbed his nose against your clit.

Joonas hummed as he admired you from his point of view. Running his wet tongue through your folds, he sucked on your clit hard. Gazing up at you with fervent eyes, he maintained eye contact through the cracked view between your legs as his tongue peeked from his opened mouth across your clit. Back and forth, his tongue glided against your clit, causing your whole body to writhe. His movements were a bit sloppy as he made a mess of your pussy.

You grabbed the back of his head to pull him even closer and he shook his head wildly to mess with your clit. His action forced a scream out of your mouth, and you fell back. You began to thrust your hips upward shamelessly as you kept him in place.

"I'm gonna... gonna cum..." were the only words you could muster in that euphoric state.

Joonas never stopped his movements, his pace remained the same so you could cum faster.

And you did. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you rolled your eyes back, as your legs began to spasm violently against his head.

Your dear friend hummed deeply, a sticky liquid spilled out of your puffy lips, and he licked a fat stripe using his wet muscle. You ground your pussy against his mouth one more time and whimpered.

It took you a while to pull yourself together, as you laid down on the counter with your heart throbbing uncontrollably. Joonas stood up straight and the first thing you noticed was that giant smirk covered in your own essence.

"And that's how I moisturize my lips, kitten".

[mymelodyheart]

Miles Between Us Chapter 12 ~Obstacle Course ~

Previously in Suspicious Minds ...

Caught up in the awkwardness of the moment, Claire bit her bottom lip. "Well, I guess that's settled then. We best get going before Mary does something like bite some poor soul's head at the airport." Claire's attempt to sound cheerful lessened the tension in the air but not the one on Jamie's shoulders. She turned to him and tried to take her bags off his hands, but he couldn't seem to let go. "Jamie ...my bags," she whispered, her hand running up and down his forearm as if to tell him everything was going to be alright.

But instead of giving Claire's bags back to her, he begrudgingly handed them to Christie. They had a few seconds of stare off until Claire's hands on his face forced him to look at her.

"Jamie, kiss me, goodbye?"

He didn't hesitate at her request and sucked on her bottom lip as she made a sobbing noise. That wee noise she made jolted something free inside of him, and he, too, wanted to cry. He couldn't remember wanting to openly cry before. Not like this. He couldn't control it, stealing oxygen from his lungs, but Claire's touches soothed him. 

  If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

If you wish to read this from the beginning:

AO3 link

Tumblr link

"The monster is only scary while it is in the closet.

Once in the light,

you can see its many flaws

and weaknesses.

And often,

we end up laughing,

at what we shield our eyes from

no more."

-Tom Althouse

 Meticulously scanning the busy vicinity, Claire stopped in the middle of the airport's arrival area and whirled on the spot, impatiently tapping her phone against her thigh. Come on, Hawkins, where the bloody hell are you?  Though she and Tom were painfully late, she didn't want to blame their tardiness on Jamie, so instead, she held the gridlock on the motorway and the rain responsible. And whyever not? If it hadn't been for Mary coming to Inverness unannounced, she would be with Jamie right now, making up for lost time and talking about his therapy from this morning. Why in heaven's name had the responsibility of Mary landed on her shoulder of all days? She sighed. It must be another perk of being John Grey's ultra-reliable and never-can-say-no star employee, she reminded herself with an inward groan. 

On the way to the airport, Claire had been quiet throughout the drive and was grateful to Tom for not prodding about what happened. To her relief, he'd just given her an understanding smile and drove. Thinking of Jamie's tortured face when he'd arrived at the cottage, it had taken a lot of willpower on her part to get into the car and leave him by the roadside looking after her with a forlorn expression. His words had played on repeat until she had to do a mental scold to remind herself she had work to do and assured herself she'd see him soon enough. She'd wanted him to be alright before she left to ensure him she hadn't changed her mind about them. Though she'd hurt not hearing from him after he'd disappeared, she knew his actions had been done in consideration of her, and that notion prevented her anger from taking over. Her feeling of abandonment over what he'd done was also tempered with her annoyance at Jenny. Jamie's sister's meddling was just so wrong on all sorts of level. In the middle of Jamie leaving her, Willie checking to make sure she was alright, and Jenny coming this morning, she'd gone back and forth between a place of strength and feeling like a lamb in the eye of a hurricane. But now, as she attempted to find the anger, the rage she'd felt after discovering the newspaper clipping about her house in Jenny's possession and the interference with Jamie's love life, she couldn't find it anymore.

Sensing Tom approaching, she recentred herself and smiled in his direction. "There you are.".

"Any luck?" he asked, coming to stand next to her and looking around.

"Nope," she replied, pressing her fingers to her forehead and massaging a sudden ache as she was reminded of the reason why they were there. "How did you get a parking space so quick?"

"I have my ways." When she arched an eyebrow, he grinned at her. "I have a disabled parking permit."

Claire stopped and glared at him. "Tom!"

He ignored her disapproving expression and shrugged. "So, who are we looking for?"

She shook her head and looked around for Mary once more. It shouldn't be this difficult to spot her because she usually stood out. "An overdressed, attractive petite brunette with loads of attitude," she replied, absentmindedly. "And probably with a trolley full of luggage."

More people walked past them making their search more difficult. She was about to make another phone call to Mary when Tom whistled under his breath. "Weel, weel," he murmured, his gaze ticking past her shoulder and turning thoughtful. "I wonder if the lass walking towards us is yer Hawkins." His lips twisted into a smile. "She looks mighty pissed."

"Wot?" She spun around and drew her brows together as she saw a familiar figure approaching them. What the hell? Is that Mary? It could only be her. The woman struggling with an oversized suitcase on wheels stood out like a mini bolt of lightning in her designer four-inch heels, pristine, skinny white jeans and black fur-lined down jacket. But there was something different about the way Mary looked, and it took a few seconds before Claire realised she had done something to her hair. She nearly gasped out loud. But as soon as Mary made eye contact, Claire immediately braced herself for some telling off for being late. Mary stopped, her mouth opening and closing as if she couldn't find the words to voice her displeasure. Claire schooled her features and met her leaden glare without flinching. "Mary? I hardly recognised you."

Mary's brown eyes prettily widened, and her expression softened as some kind of realisation dawned on her. "Oh! Of course ...you couldn't have." A sound of delight puffed out of her. "I had my hair done in Paris. Now we have the same curls. If only I was as tall as you, we'll probably be mistaken as sisters." She missed Claire's intake of breath as she ran her delicate fingers through her locks. "Do you like it?"

No, I don't! What have you done to your beautiful hair? You look like a poodle! Claire swallowed hard, tilted her head to her side, and contemplated the best way to tell Mary the truth. But she didn't have the heart to say it. Instead, she opted for something closer to the truth. "Well, for starters, it looks unusual. I'm so used to seeing your beautiful straight hair. I guess it will take time getting used to," she admitted. But when a slight frown drifted across Mary's face, Claire felt bad. Taking a deep breath, she laughed nervously as she fluffed her own hair. "Look at these ...after all these years, I'm still not used to mine, and I have a bit of hate relationship with it, especially when it gets humid or when I looked at the mirror first thing in the morning. So bear with me if I'm not much into curls."

It took Mary a long time to respond. "Oh, well," she replied with a subdued smile. "You should have seen John's face when he first saw my hair. He looked shocked." She shrugged. "But in the end, he did say it was beginning to grow on him. I guess everyone's used to my limp, lifeless hair."

Ah, bless John. Claire knew his expression wouldn't have been able to hide what was on his mind, and it wouldn't have bode well for him if Mary had been able to read his face. Mary was their star author whose new book could likely save his publishing company from potential financial ruin, and anyone pointing out her disastrous new hairstyle would probably only result in tantrums and more delays in publication. She sighed. "It wasn't limp, Mary. You had beautiful, straight hair. You have no idea what I would give to have manageable straight hair like what you had." And that was the truth.

Mary perked up a bit and rolled her eyes. "Oh, God, don't make me like you even more."

They shared a slow smile, and Claire was about to make a different compliment that didn't include Mary's hair when Tom cleared his throat and stepped forward, giving them a charming smile. "Ladies, sorry to interrupt, but shall we get cracking? My car is not parked in the most ideal of places."

"Oh, of course, I'm so sorry ..." Claire had almost forgotten about Tom, too fascinated by Mary's new hairstyle. She gave him an apologetic look and turned to Mary. "Oh, by the way, may I introduce you to ..." she trailed off and stopped.

Mary's expression looked like the heavens had just opened up and bestowed them an angel. Her lips moved, but no sound came, but when she did finally found her voice, it sounded raspy. "Is this your Jamie that John was talking about?"

Claire pried Mary's hand from her suitcase. "No, this is Tom. He's offered to drive me here to pick you up."

Tom grinned and offered his hand in greeting. "A pleasure to finally meet ye, Mary. I've read a couple of yer books, and I must say, not only are ye a talented writer but a beautiful one too."

Claire mentally groaned but kept the frustration from her face at bay. Tom must have noticed Mary's reaction and had taken his flirting a notch higher. When Mary continued to stare, Claire gently nudged her with her elbow. "Mary. Shake Tom's hand, and let's go."

Mary shook her way out of her trance and smiled. "Oh, I think this is going to be a very, very interesting visit," she gushed, finally back to her being her old self again. But instead of shaking Tom's hand, she hooked her arm into his, leaving Claire with the suitcase. "So Tom ...can you recommend a perfect place to eat? I'm quite famished and can't work on an empty stomach."

Tom obliged and patted Mary's hand. "Dinnae fash, I ken just the place."

With that, Mary looked over her shoulder and winked. All Claire could do was smile back and hope they would be able to get some work done. Because if not, and there's any more cause to delay Hawkin's books, come hell or high water, she's quitting Dreamweaver.

...........

Two Days Later

Stepping out of the shower, Jamie immediately zeroed in on his phone just in case he'd missed a call from Claire. They'd briefly talked last night, and she'd reminded him of uncle Lamb's arrival, which should be between now and the evening. If all goes to plan with Mary Hawkins, Claire should be coming back too. Hopefully, tonight, he thought with a sigh. It was already late Saturday afternoon, and his work was done for the weekend. Plenty of time left to get his shit together. 

Since Claire had left for Inverness, he hadn't had time to think. His brother had kept him busy with tasks and paperwork, and, on top of it all, he'd been distracted trying to comfort a distressed sister. Jenny had told him what had transpired between her and Claire. And how she'd been out of her mind, thinking she'd ruined their relationship. He'd consoled her, and in turn, she'd apologised profusely for her meddling. Her sincerity had touched him, but moreover, he couldn't help feeling amused at the thought of Jenny finally meeting her match. Though Claire was a gentle and thoughtful soul, he knew she was not the type to be bossed around. And in as much as he loved his sister, he was glad Claire put Jenny in her place and hoped after everything had been said and done, they can all move on from that incident and forgive.

Despite barely having time to be alone with his sometimes chaotic thoughts, he'd still managed to feel anxious about Christie. Jamie learned he hadn't returned to Broch Mordha, which led him to ponder if Christie was spending time with Claire. It was a lapse of insecurity, and that notion had been rubbished straight away since he knew how important Claire's work was to her. So there should be no pressure on his chest or icy tingling along his spine. 

There shouldn't be, but somehow there was.

Jamie was just shrugging into a fresh sweatshirt when his doorbell rang. He glanced at the wall clock and wondered who it was. Claire hadn't given a specific time for Quentin's arrival, and if it had been her at the door, she should've let herself in with the spare key he'd given her.

"Coming!" he shouted as the doorbell rang once more. He took a deep breath expecting uncle Lamb to be standing out there. Bracing himself. he flung the door open and was surprised to see who it was. "Ge- ... I mean Dr Dunsany!"

"Hi, Jamie!" Geneva greeted. "You may call me Geneva, you know ...since we're not in my office. May I come in?"

Jamie narrowed his gaze and looked past her shoulder. He could see Mrs Fitz from across the street pretending to fuss over some leaves in her garden when really he could tell she's prying into his business. There were talks already surrounding Claire being seen with Tom, and it wouldn't do him good if words of Geneva coming to his cottage got around, no matter how innocent the visit was. He gave Geneva an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, I'm kinda busy," he withdrew, glancing casually at his watch. "I ... there's... I'm expecting a visitor. "

"Oh! But this won't take long." She stood there with laid back confidence that lured most men to look their fill. He neutrally eyed the slim-fitting turtle neck that hugged her breast and tight jeans that hung low, her scarlet painted lips pursed in a pretty pout. "I wanted to talk about the session we had the other day," she added quickly.

Jamie crossed his arms across his chest. "Couldn't this wait until our next appointment?"

She took a cautious step closer, her expensive scent drifting in the air. "I'd rather talk about it now. This is just not about your therapy." Her blue eyes seductively landed on his lips. "I want to discuss something personal too."

"Sorry, personal won't do, I'm afraid. Ye're my therapist."

"Jamie, how long have we known each other?"

"Long enough ..."

She smiled, her hand brushing something away from his shoulder. "What's wrong? Surely your girlfriend won't mind your therapist coming over to check up on your progress, will she? We live in a small place, and we all know each other here."

"Her name is Claire ..."

"And I heard she's with Tom? Is that right?"

He smothered a sigh as he could tell what this was all about. Though Geneva was an attractive lass, he'd always only felt a minor buzz for her, which paled to the mind-blowing reaction Claire caused with just a single look. Where Claire was never more than anything but herself, Geneva always tried too hard. And it wasn't just all physical with Claire. It was their connection to each other's mind and soul. The way she made it easy for him to allow her to see his vulnerability and the way she'd let him in when no promises had been made on his part when they first met. Thinking back to the other day, he shook his head. He'd known the steaming anger that had risen within him when he'd first heard of Claire meeting with Tom and how that rumour almost made him lose his sense of judgement. He could not allow room for any gossip to go around, especially when Claire was away. Geneva should definitely not come in. 

"Look, as ye can see, I'm fine. I dinnae think it's a good idea us meeting like this. Let's keep personal stuff away and keep this professional, aye?"

She took a while to accept his dismissal. Sheer frustration swept over her face before she managed to compose herself. He tried to offer any semblance of an apology, but she cut him off. "I'm the one who understands your condition and how tough it is to live a normal life with your PTSD. And I know better than anyone else right now how to handle it."

Irritation coasted down his back. "There's no doubt you're a brilliant therapist, Geneva. But I am much more than a textbook scenario. Something Claire has always understood."

"But for how long, Jamie?"

"That is none of your concern," he said cooly. "Now, please go as I have things to do."

Her back straightened with steely dignity, and Jamie could tell every movement was measured to create the most dramatic effect. It was another detail he found unattractive and probably why he'd never acted on Geneva's crush for him. "Here's my theory," she began in a low voice. "You're just with her because you needed to fix someone, and she fits the bill. That's what you've been doing all your life - fixing everyone's problem. You'll never be happy, Jamie, if you keep repeating the same pattern over and over again."

He swallowed his anger. "How I choose to live my life is my concern, and if it means repeating the same pattern, then so be it. Forcing me to see things the way you want me to will only piss me off. So while I still have patience, please go."

He took a tentative step backwards, waiting for her to leave so he could close the door. Instead of walking away, she took him by surprise and threw herself against him, looping her arms around his neck and pressing her lips against his.

Christ! Repelled by the assault, he grasped her shoulder and pushed her away. "What the bloody hell was that?" he gritted angrily.

Face red, she squared her shoulders and looked him straight in the eyes. "Mark my words, it's just a matter of time before Claire is unable to deal with your PTSD anymore. I know the pattern, and I've seen it a million times. Most men with this condition end up alone because no one fully understands the extent of what they go through. Oh sure, the people in their lives say they understand but do they really? It's a scary thing for most and an uncomfortable situation to live in. As for me ... I know, and I understand, and I can handle it because I've studied and worked with people like you. And when that day comes, and she leaves you for good, know that I'll be here waiting." 

"Just because you know my history, it doesn't make ye an expert in knowing how my life will turn out to be. And ye don't know a thing about Claire, her heart, her resilience ..."

She snorted in disgust. "You just wait and see." With that, she turned around and walked off. 

He almost choked. Has the lass gone mad? His skin crawled with icy foreboding as he glanced across the street, his eyes searching for his neighbour. To his relief, Mrs Fitz was no longer stood in the garden to witness Geneva's kiss. A sudden ugly thought came to him, and he wondered what Claire would do if she'd been in his position. Jamie shook his head and immediately dismissed the notion. Tom wouldn't dare. Jamie had already made sure, loud and clear, that Claire was off-limits.

When Geneva's kiss drifted back to the forefront of his mind, he grimaced. His first impulse was to ignore the whole incident. But on second thoughts, he should tell Claire in case words of it reached her before he could explain. He wasn't a hundred per cent sure no one had witnessed that weird occurrence, and if someone did, it would surely be tonight's topic on every dinner table in Broch Mordha. Worriedly, he glanced up and down his street and only saw an unfamiliar car and driver on the phone. Probably Mrs Fitz's new guest, he figured. Satisfied with that thought, he shut the door.

Attempting to get his composure back before he called Claire, he headed for the sideboard in his dining area, grabbed a bottle of whisky, and poured himself a measure. He threw back a shot, his eyes watering slightly in deference to the burn that slid down his throat. He was about to pour another one when the doorbell rang. Again.

What does she want now? He slammed the glass down on the dining table and made his way back to the door. This time he was going to tell Geneva to cancel his therapy appointment. The lass was mad, and he hadn't known the extent of it until today. He'd always thought of her crush for him as a harmless fancy, but obviously, with Jenny's meddling, she'd set her hopes up. This time, he's had enough. With irritation simmering in his guts, he opened the door ...

And was met by an imposing figure obstructing the daylight. 

Jamie heard an unintelligible grunt in greeting, and the smell of tobacco invaded his nostrils. He peered at the face, but it was shadowed by a wide-brimmed fedora hat and several days worth of stubble. He blinked to rid the cobwebs threading patterns on his brain and forced his body to straighten to its full height.

"What's that on your mouth?" the man growled.

What the ...? "Quentin?" 

"You got lipstick on!"

Horror swooped in as Jamie realised he was still exhibiting the evidence of Geneva's kiss. He immediately swiped the back of his hand across his mouth and instantly felt nauseated when he saw the smudged scarlet on his knuckles. Jesus! "It's not ... it's..."

"It's not my niece's," the older man finished with a cock of his bushy eyebrow.

"It's not mine either," Jamie retorted without thinking. Ah, bloody fuck! "I mean ... it's not what ye think."

"I would certainly hope it's not yours." Quentin narrowed his eyes at him, taking his measure. Jamie did the same to him. He wondered what the man was thinking, but Claire's uncle spoke again before he got a chance. "Well, are you letting me in, or are we just going to stare at each other like a couple of dafties?"

Who the fuck does he think he is? But he quickly reminded himself this was Claire's uncle, so he slightly softened his stance. Swallowing the sour taste in his mouth, Jamie took a step back and motioned Quentin into his home. "Come in." 

Ignoring Jamie's dark look, Quentin strode into his cottage, but he's brought up short when he saw the whisky and shot glass on the dining table. He plopped his sling bag onto the chair, opened it, pulled out a tequila bottle and placed it on the table. Then he turned around and slid his hands into his pockets. "You and I, lad, are going to talk before my niece arrives." 

Jamie shut the door and eyed Quentin, carefully pondering his words. As he'd suspected, Quentin was very much like Harry but with broader shoulders, an intense darker face, and eyes that seemed to flash with diabolical laughter. It was a face that had probably seen too much in his lifetime. All his mannerisms were large, confident and perfectly balanced, like those of a wild cat, and when he stood in his space like this, he appeared to be a wild animal held in a cage too inadequate for it. His features might be similar to Harry's, but yet, their difference was like night and day.

A scoff rasped his throat. "I've had enough forced therapy for the week, thank ye very much."

"If I didn't know you any better, I would have bloodied your nose after seeing that lipstick on your mouth."

"If ye're dying to punch me on the face, then give me yer best shot. I dinnae have to explain anything to ye. I've done nothing wrong."

"No, you haven't," Quentin sighed, nodding his head. "I saw what passed."

Jamie absorbed that while keeping his features impassive. "And yet ye're still judging me."

Quentin's mouth twitched, but his eyes remained serious. "I'm not."

"Right from the start, it felt like ye've been giving me the first degree."

Quentin disregarded his words with a shrug. "I was just making sure Claire's in good hands. She's all I have."

Jamie understood the sentiment. He would have probably done the same if he'd been in Quentin's shoes. Christ, hadn't he felt like committing murder when he'd first found out about Tom?

"We've met before, you know?" Quentin interrupted his thoughts.

Jamie's head shot up.

"Way before our video chat," the older man revealed. "But I figured you don't remember."

He didn't, so he shook his head.

Quentin took off his hat and slapped it against his thigh before placing it on the table. "Claire recently told me she just found out that it was you and your godfather, ...Murtagh...I believe his name was, who saved her from the car accident. She asked me if I knew." Quentin paused to discern Jamie's expression. When he couldn't seem to read anything, he proceeded. "I admitted I did and ..."

"Ye knew who I was?"

"No. Not until you told me your family name and mentioned Lallybroch near the end of our video chat. I thought Claire would be angry for not telling her, but she didn't say much else except that both of you have been clueless all these years. So if you have any questions about what happened, I'll fill in the void for you if it'll help you move on."

Jamie shoved a hand through his hair. Feeling suddenly restless, he went to the drinks' cabinet to retrieve shot glasses. He grabbed the tequila bottle, uncapped it, and poured two equal measures. "So now you want to diagnose me? Is that it?"

"Diagnose you for what?"

Jamie realised Quentin knew nothing of his condition. Claire hadn't told her uncle. He ignored the question and handed the shot to Quentin. "Why bring it up now?"

Quentin took the offered glass, raised a silent toast with Jamie, and simultaneously threw back the shot. They both flinched at the heat. "I owe you the truth," Quentin replied, placing the shot glass on the table. "Take it or leave it. I've been silent about it for years. Tell me what you remember, and I'll tell you everything you want to know."

Did he really want to know? The past would eventually catch up and come out, that much Jamie knew, so he might as well have it out in the open. Taking a deep breath, he paced to the window and with his back to Quentin, he began recounting what he could remember from the accident. He waited for the white noise or the torture to start swarming in his head, but to his astonishment, they never came. Though the memory of that fateful day was more vivid than ever, its power to hold him in a choke was diminished. The words flowed with ease, and it began to feel like he was describing someone else's story. When he was done, he turned around and saw just in time a shadow passed across the older man's face. He looked like ten years have been shaved off his life.

Quentin took a seat and clasped his hands together. "I lied to you the day when we first met."

Jamie stilled and looked at Quentin. "What do ye mean?"

"I was in Cairo when I heard the news of the accident. I immediately took the first plane out and headed here. I was told Claire was being taken care of by your parents and that both of you were inseparable. When I arrived at Lallybroch, you were holding Claire in your lap like she was the most precious thing." Quentin paused and smiled at the memory before descending back to that sad place in his head. "But when you laid eyes on me, that's when you lost it and started screaming. Claire screamed along with you ...God, it was awful. At that time, it hadn't truly sunk in what happened to my brother and his wife, and it was torture to see you kids in such pain." Quentin shook his head. "You were shouting something like ...I should be dead and that you've seen me go up in flames. You see, I've been told beforehand you'd witnessed the accident, and that's when it occurred to me you thought I was Harry. So I did what I thought was best at that moment ...I knelt before you and fibbed. Only because nothing could calm you down, and I wanted to ease your distress. I pretended to be Harry and told you I wasn't dead, and when you asked how I got away, I made up some story like managing to crawl out the last minute. Somehow that little white lie quieted you down."

"I honestly don't remember that part," Jamie whispered, taking a seat across from Quentin. "But in saying that, all the memories of that day are just beginning to resurface. I'm just starting to remember again. It all began when ..."

"When you met Claire for the second time," Quentin finished for him.

Jamie nodded with a small smile as he watched Quentin stood up and poured them another shot. 

Quentin gazed at him with all the seriousness. "May I ask you a question?" 

"Ask away." 

Quentin pushed the shot glass towards him. "What if, instead of Harry, you were the one that died that day?" He paused and looked directly into his eyes. "What do you think would you have missed in the years that came after?" 

Jamie frowned. "Why would ye ask such a thing?"

Quentin sighed. "Because lately, I've been asking myself the same question every day. I've searched for the answer going back through almost twenty years, and I've come up with almost nothing. Besides Claire coming into my life, I have nothing to show. Of course, there were a few memorable moments when I was granted an acknowledgement of merit for my work. And then there were a few rare occasions I got to spend time with Claire. But between those scraps of time, there's only a grey empty void. The rest of my days were spent going through the motions, keeping a barrier between me and the world. I realised, ever since my brother died, I've been living in fear that the same fate could befall me ... that's why I've never married. So you see now, Jamie, I haven't been living at all. And I don't want you to make that mistake."

Jamie gave a wistful smile. "I see that, and with everything happening, I'm just starting to understand. We all have to walk around lugging a past, getting from one step to the next. Just need a healthy way to release it, as Claire often reminded me enough." When Jamie saw Quentin nodding in agreement, he saw an opportunity. He cleared his throat and straightened himself. He'd just bonded with Claire's uncle, so surely that should mean something. "So ....Quentin," he began nervously, "does this mean ye're fine with me being with Claire?"

Claire's uncle went back to looking like he wanted to rip a head off. "No. I've just arrived after a long flight, and you haven't offered me anything. I haven't eaten in the last six hours, and you're asking me if I'm okay with you being with Claire? So far, all you've done is open the tequila bottle without thanking me for it and nought to impress me."

Ah, shite! Hearing that, he pushed himself to his feet. "I ken a few good places that serve excellent pub grub," he said rapidly.

"Do you not have food in your kitchen, lad?"

"Aye, I do, but since ye're starving, I thought it would be easier if we got something out," Jamie reasoned. "So, what do ye have in mind?"

Quentin glowered at him before slugging back the rest of his shot. "Somewhere where they serve greasy food."

Jamie stopped. "But Claire said yer heart ..."

"The greasier, the better," Quentin growled.

It was clear to Jamie he's still miles away from wholly winning over Quentin. He reckoned he's probably not going to win that battle today, and one plate of greasy food was not going to kill Claire's uncle. Ah, hell! Didn't his ma once said that the way to someone's heart is through one's stomach? There's a chance that this could still work. But before he could say anything, his phone buzzed, and he almost knocked over the chair, trying to grab it. "It's Claire."

Quentin rolled his eyes.

Jamie quickly read Claire's message and smiled. Ah, there's a God after all! He glanced up at Quentin. "She's coming back home tonight."

"I knew that! Now, how about that nosh you were on about."

"Aye ...right ...I ken just the place."

..........

Five Hours Later

"This is a shithole!" Quentin grumbled, slurring his words and shoving his unfinished plate of Bangers and Mash away from him.

Tough shite! Jamie glanced out the window and then looked back at the time on his watch. Damn it! A plate of food each, five pints of lager for Quentin and three pints for him later, still no word from Claire, and if she didn't come home soon, Quentin would drink him under the table. As it was, he's feeling rather tipsy already.

"You know what?" Quentin tipped the bottom of the pint glass in his direction. "Since we arrived here, you kept looking out that window every few minutes. Am I boring you, or is there something interesting out there? If so, care to share?"

Jamie blew out a breath. "Just wondering when Claire's coming home. Haven't heard from her since her last message.."

"Is that why you're looking outside? Does she know we're here?"

"No! Christie is bringing her back from Inverness." 

"Who's Christie?"

"Some bloke."

"So what's outside? You keep looking out there."

Damn, so many questions! Jamie pointed his finger towards the window. "See that red door over there? Christie lives in that building, first floor, window facing the street. We'd know when they've arrived."

"Is that why you brought me here so you could check every once in a while if Claire's arrived?"

The older man was on to him, but Jamie wasn't about to admit it. "You wanted greasy food, did ye not?"

Quentin shrugged without answering. 

Jamie checked his phone again and agitatedly rubbed a hand behind his neck. What's taking them so long? Wicked thoughts were beginning to seep in. Has Claire, by any chance, heard about Geneva's visit and kiss? It wouldn't be an impossibility as rumours tended to make their way out of Broch Mordha. A part of him knew that the alcohol was dulling his reason, so he mentally shook himself. He should have called Claire earlier, right after Geneva left and told her what happened, but of course, Quentin's arrival had interrupted him from doing just that.

"Stop fidgeting. You're making me nervous."

"I'm just worried Claire would hear about that kiss ye witness earlier before I get to explain myself." 

A heartbeat passed. For the first time since Jamie had known Quentin, his tough demeanour slipped, and something akin to amusement flashed through. "Don't worry. If she's heard about it, she would have given you her two pennies worth by now, and that's putting it mildly. Of course ...worst-case scenario, you'll end up with your ears ringing for days after she's done telling you off." He smirked and raised his pint to his lips, his actions revealing he was only teasing. Jamie reined in his frustration and let it go without comment.

Obviously emboldened by Jamie's silence, Quentin leaned forward. "So, have you bought flowers for Claire for when she returns?"

"No."

"Why not? It would help your cause in case Claire heard about that kiss."

Jamie glared at Quentin. "Thanks for rubbing that in. But I dinnae have time. I was too busy entertaining ye. Besides, I bought her fruits. She loves fruits. I even bought her a variety of them."

The older man's eyes bugged out. "She's got you eating healthy too, huh?"

"Nothing wrong with that," Jamie muttered. "She likes chocolates too. I got her a big box of it. Lindt."

Quentin glanced out the window to his side and perked up. "Hey, someone just went through that red door. I don't know what Christie looks like, but it could be anyone."

Jamie followed his gaze, and sure enough, the red door was just closing. He glanced back at his phone on the table, and though he knew he would hear the sound of notification, he still needed to look to assure himself. There was still no message.

"First-floor window light just went on," Quentin observed in a low voice. "That's Christie's place, right?"

His head snapped up. "What?"

"Oh, look, that's Claire, looking out. I know that hair anywhere."

Jamie looked and saw Claire just in time before she moved away from the window and pulled the curtain. He swallowed the odd lump in his throat. What the hell is she doing in Christie's place? Then it all came rushing in, in full force. He'd left Claire on her own because of his stupid panic attacks, and when he'd finally come to his senses, it was probably too late because Christie had already entered the picture. And now everything that Geneva had told him earlier was coming to fruition. No, no!

A split second later, Jamie burst out the pub's front entrance and ran across the street, Quentin not far behind him.

This cannae be happening. This is the worse nightmare ever. Ach Christ, please dinnae let this be true. Please. She's my lass. Mine. No, no, no. Oh fuck, I need her.

Thunder roared in his ears, and he'd only vaguely managed to process Quentin's remark on his overreaction and something about alcohol consumption. But all he could think of was how he and Claire needed to talk, now. He couldn't accept their relationship was over when it hadn't had a chance yet. 

Jamie stopped in front of Christie's building and looked up the window, shouting Claire's name, while Quentin manically pressed the buzzer for the first floor. A few passersby eyed them warily, and a voice called from somewhere, "what the bloody hell, Fraser!" probably thinking they'd gone off their nuts, but he couldn't give a fuck. His heart hammered wildly, unable to think straight. All he could see was Claire with Christie, together. He groaned miserably, the very thought chilling him to the bone. Oh, please, God no!

No one responded to Quentin's incessant buzzing, and when he tried to yank on the knob, it didn't budge. It remained lock.

Jamie gathered a few stones that he could find on the cobbled street and started pelting Christie's window, roaring Claire's name on top of his lungs. His effort was rewarded when the curtain slid open, and he saw Claire looking down, her hair all wild and loose. But by now, they've also attracted a wee crowd that stood in a semi-circle behind him. He didn't take notice and focused his attention on the woman above.

"Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp! Don't ye dare leave me!" He shouted. "We love each other, remember? I was a prick for leaving ye on yer own when ye came to Scotland to be with me. I promise ye this will never happen again. And whatever problem we have together, we can fix this. Ye understand me?" He fell on his knees, grateful for the pain shooting up his thighs because his heart was breaking into thousand pieces. "I ken I could be a selfless arse, but I'm working on being a better person for ye ...for us. We've only known each other for a short while, but it's enough for me to see that ye're the one for me. Forever. I love ye with all my heart, Sassenach, and I cannae imagine life without ye."

Jamie paused to get his breathing back to normal and give Claire a chance to respond. But she remained immobile and continued to stare down at him. The crowd behind whispered and tittered, probably thinking he'd finally lost all his marbles. He even heard someone murmuring about him having had a bit too much to drink. But he didn't care even when he saw Quentin's shaking head, most likely in disgust at him. A hand touched his shoulder, but he shrugged it off, only focused on getting through Claire. "What do I need to do to make ye, believe me, Sassenach? Ye ken, I'll do anything to prove to ye how much I love ye. Does he ken the things I do? Like ...like what song makes ye smile? I can sing it for ye if that's what it would take." When the silence lingered, except for the hush sounds from behind him, Jamie puffed out a silent curse. "Christ ... I'll do it. For ye, ye hear me? I'll sing that damn song. Just so ye ken, I meant every word I said." 

Then he stood up from his kneeling position and gave Rick Astley a run for his money. 

..........

Hands on her chest, Claire stood inert behind Jamie, listening with interest as he belted out Rick Astley's Never Gonna Give you Up in a scratchy voice. She tilted her head to the side and watched in fascination his stiff, sparse hip movement that went with his song. She'd wanted to alleviate Jamie's suffering and save him from further embarrassment, but midway through his moving speech, she'd caught a glimpse of her uncle. He'd given her a warning shake of his head, telling her to let Jamie finish pouring his heart out. So with a sigh, she stood back and waited. 

Oh, Jamie, Jamie!

This beautiful, rugged giant of a man and former SAS soldier was singing to her as though his life depended on it. How could he think she'd left him? She needed to put her arms around him and reassure him that he's the one for her too and that there's been nobody else but him.

"Jamie!" she rasped. When he didn't hear her, she cleared her throat and tried again. "Jamie! It's me, Claire!"

Jamie stopped and whipped around, his eyes taking her in, in total disbelief. "Sassenach?" he whispered. "It's ye."

Her throat constricted. "Uh-huh."

His head jerked back up to the window and then back to Claire. He looked as though he wanted to believe he was really seeing her but could not see past his fear just yet. "To whom the bloody hell was I proclaiming my love to then if ye were stood here all along?" he asked, throat working with emotion.

"You were singing to Mary Hawkins, Jamie," she croaked. "The star author of our publishing company."

"And what the hell is she doing up at Christie's place?"

Claire grimaced. This was really a sensitive subject, and they were talking about a public figure, and a small crowd was watching them. So she stepped closer and spoke in a low voice. "I think Mary and Tom have a thing for each other. And I have a sneaking suspicion ..." she glanced up at the window above where Mary still stood. "Tom is not going to be please when he finds out it was you who interrupted whatever they're up to."

"James Fucking Fraser!"

It was Tom, wherever he was shouting from. Jamie didn't wait to find out because, in one quick movement, he took Claire's hand and made short work of getting them into the dark alley to the applause and cheers of the bystanders. Laughing, they ran and ran until they were far away enough from prying eyes. And there in the darkened path, its only illumination coming from the full moon above, they found one another once again in each other's arms.

Dear Readers,

Firstly, thank you all for your feedback in the previous chapter. I'm going to keep this short as I still tire easily.

As I've mentioned before, I haven't been well the last few days; hence the delay for this instalment. I hope you enjoyed this one. If there are any inconsistencies and grammar mistakes, I blame them on my medication. Haha! 

So that said, thank you all for the messages on my Tumblr, your feedback and kudos on AO3, and mostly for your patience. Take care always of yourself, and keep spreading the love vibe! X

[starlightxsvt]

Sweeter Than Sweets l pt. 3

Pairing ➳ CEO! Seungcheol x female baker!reader

Genre ➳ fluff, romance, slight smut

Warnings ➳ light cursing, some nudity, implications of sex (forgive me if it's bad, this is my first time trying to write smut)

Word count ➳ around 4.1k

A/N: Here's the third chapter~ I'm really sorry for the delay. If everything goes according to plan then there's only one more chapter left! Thank you for giving this series such love, it means a lot to me. Happy reading!

part 1 l part 2 l part 3

Part 3: THE WEDDING

"It's okay, you're gonna be fine," Seungcheol throws a smile at you as you both stand at the front door of his parents house. You continue to smooth out your beautiful champagne coloured dress and touch your hair out of nervousness.

You are here. At his parents house.

The door is opened by a maid who welcomes you into the house. You both step in and take off your coats and you follow Seungcheol to the huge living room, where his mother sits with a book in her hands.

She squeals seeing Seungcheol, adoration crossing over her features as she wraps her arms around him and kisses his forehead. "You're here! I was worried you wouldn't show up!"

"You deserve a chance to get to know ___. She's amazing," his compliment brings warmth in your cheeks as he pulls you closer to his side.

His mother grins looking at you before pulling you into a hug, "Yes yes, of course." She kisses your cheeks before a soft bark comes from behind you and you turn to see a white fluffy toy poodle, wagging it's tail, eagerly staring at Seungcheol. The man in question grins before picking it up, "Heyy, Kkukma!"

"She's our family dog. Loves Seungcheol a bit too much," Seungcheol's mother explains and you smile, nodding before gently petting the dog who licks your hand in return.

You laugh. Seungcheol kisses Kkukma's forehead before announcing, "You guys continue chatting. I'll go play with Kkukma."

You swallow, watching him disappear into the garden and his mother grins at you, "Let me show you around."

His mother walks you through their elegant house while asking about how you met Seungcheol and such. You speak the rehearsed lines and she believes them easily, making you feel somewhat bad for the poor woman.

"Seungcheol really isn't good with women, you know," his mother says while you're served a cup of tea after finishing the tour.

You offer a smile in reply and take a sip. She continues, "He used to like a girl quite a while ago. Told me that he wanted to marry her. But sadly, she turned out to be a leech who was using him for his money."

"That's... awful," you frown. Seungcheol never told you about it. But then again you're his fake lover and you mentally curse yourself for getting too much into your role.

"I take it he didn't tell you about that," She smiles. "Don't worry, he's long over her. That just made him shut himself out more. He assumed that all women were after his money but I'm glad to see he found someone like you."

You cringe inwardly. You too, are here because of money more or less. You are doing all this because he promised you a shop.

"Me too," you agree with her, playing along. She smiles. A sound catches both of your attention and you see Seungcheol's father standing at the entrance of the living room, his wary eyes casted on you. You almost choke but quickly redeem yourself by standing up and saying hi. He disregards you completely with a grunt and walks away murmuring something unintelligible.

Seungcheol's mother sighs loudly, "I'm so sorry about him."

"It's okay, I understand. Seungcheol told me about him." You mutter.

His mother offers you a sad smile. "He's been so mean to Seungcheol. To us. It was my mistake that I married that beast."

You say nothing, just stare at the cup in your hands.

She continues, "I would have divorced him long ago but he would have taken full custody over Seungcheol. I couldn't win against a man like him and I couldn't loose Seungcheol."

"I see," you whisper. His mother gently holds your hand, "I sincerely hope you won't take his words to heart. He has always been like that. Nothing we do can make him happy."

You offer her a smile, "It's really okay, Mrs. Choi."

"Minsoo, please. You're gonna be me daughter in law soon," she smiles sweetly at you. "Which reminds me! We need to set a date!"

Warmth spreads on your face as you smile, "Yeah..."

And so she starts discussing with you about the dress the venue and such and you find yourself enjoying her company. She's kind and gives full attention to you and it fills the void created by your own mother. You know you're going to miss this woman after you're divorced.

-

Everyone gathers at the dining table during lunchtime, including Seungcheol's father. The environment is tense as Seungcheol takes a seat beside you, opposite to his parents.

Seungcheol drops a kiss on your temple and smiles at you, flashing his dimples and you almost melt into a puddle right there. Shit, have you got it that bad?

His father's eyes bore into the two of you, clearly disapproving.

Lunch starts as Seungcheol's mother initiates conversation with her son about work. It goes well for a while- you enjoying the served food and listening to them talk- until Mr. Choi decides to break it.

"What does your parents do?" He throws at you.

Seungcheol frowns, "Father-"

You stop him by squeezing his hand and smiling at him, "It's okay, babe, he should know."

Your eyes meet Mr. Choi's, "My mother separated with my father a long time ago so I don't have contact with him anymore. My mom runs a restaurant at the suburbs."

Mr. Choi is unimpressed, you can see it in his face as he seems to judge you even harder. Mrs. Choi, however, has a different reaction, "Oh dear! It must have been hard for your mother. I'd like to meet her sometime soon."

You smile at her, "My mom kind of isolated herself after the divorce but of course, I'll let her know."

Shit, you haven't even told her you're getting married yet.

Mrs. Choi's smile is kind as she resumes eating. Mr. Choi scoffs before grunting, "I still don't understand why you chose her, Seungcheol. I know you've always been stupid but now I know you're on another level, choosing her out of all women."

Wow. You're left dumbfounded at his straight forwardness. Beside you, Seungcheol grips the fork tight as his mother tries to chastise her husband. "Hyungmin, watch what you're saying!" she shrieks.

"What?" His glare is intimidating. "She's neither rich nor pretty. Your son could've had a better looking woman yet he-"

"Enough!" Seungcheol seethes making you jump.

This...isn't gonna end well.

You open your mouth to stop Seungcheol but he bangs his first on the table, teeth gritting, "What is your problem?" He glares at his father.

"I should ask that to you." His father is expressionless.

"All my life I've tried to be a good son, I tried to be good to you no matter how much of an asshole you were to me, to mom. I've accepted that you hate me, I've no problem with that but for once in your life, can't you be supportive of me?!"

His father scoffs, "How can I when you bring a thing like her?"

Seungcheol looks like he's ready to jump on his father as he bellows, "I swear to fucking God-"

"Seungcheol!" You grab onto his arms, trying to stop him as Mrs. Choi starts sobbing.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

"This is why I don't like coming here!" Seungcheol hisses at his mother before jerking free from your hold and marches away.

Seungcheol's father stands up, rolling his eyes, "And you expect me to hand my company to him?" It's directed to his wife.

Angry tears steam down Mrs. Choi's face, "He'd be a better president than you ever were! Your company has come this far only because of my son!"

Her words land on the back of Mr. Choi who blatantly ignores his wife and walks out of the room.

The room is silent except the sounds of Mrs. Choi, trying to get her tears under control. You hand her a tissue and sit silently, watching her dry her eyes.

"I'm so sorry," she says, her eyes casted down.

You offer her a small smile. Mr. Choi's words hurt you, definitely but it's not the end of the world. He's gonna be present in your life for only a small amount of time.

"It's alright, Mrs. Choi, it really is."

She sighs, gazing upon you, her eyes filled with...love. She stands up to embrace you in her arms and holds you there; your head to her chest as you listen to her breathe.

It's comforting and you feel a tear slip down your eye.

-

Seungcheol walks you all the way to your door like the gentleman he is. His mood is still sour and the car ride was filled with tension. You couldn't really blame him though.

You smile at him, "His words doesn't matter to me. I hope it's the same for you. You don't need to be stressed about what he says to me."

He looks at you, those rich brown eyes looking exhausted and he does something you never expected even in your dreams.

He hugs you.

His strong arms are wrapped around your small frame, your head pressed to his chest. Your heart beats furiously in your chest.

Is this really happening?

You inhale his scent deeply and when you wrap your arms around him too, you can't bring yourself to care. You want to feel him, to hold him. So you two just stand there in front of your door in each others arms for a long time.

"Would you like to come inside?" Your voice is small and shy as he pulls back to look at you. Shaking his head, he does yet another surprising thing.

"Can I kiss you?"

Holy mother of gods-

Your face is on fire, undoubtebly. Your mouth hangs low as you stare at him. Did he just...

He takes your silence as yes and leans in to press his lips against yours. They're soft and plush and he tastes somewhat bitter and sweet from the wine you had at his parent's house. It's addicting and you can't help but moan. He only dives in deeper, kissing you with such passion and need that you're left breathless.

He pulls back, his smoldering gaze on you and licks his lips. You swallow. Your panties are wet, fuck. You want to climb him like a tree but you can't bring yourself to move, locked in a trance.

A gentle kiss is pressed to your forehead that brings you back to reality and he mutters his goodbye, hurriedly ushering you in.

After you're in the safety of your home, you touch your swollen lips, mind traveling back to the kiss.

He kissed you.

Choi Seungcheol kissed you.

-

"Yes, I'm getting married," you repeat once more to your mother who stays silent on the other side of the line.

"Mom?"

"That's... sudden," her calm voice floats through. Yeah, and I'll be getting divorced too.

"Yeah, we've been dating for more than a year and yeah...he proposed me."

"Wow... nice." She pauses. "Did you fix a date yet?"

"Um, not yet but it's in the next two or three weeks. Also...Mrs. Choi wanted to meet you. Maybe...you could come and visit her sometime...I don't know." There's an awkward tension- it always has been ever since your dad left.

"I'll see if can manage time," she says.

"Okay..." You're about to hang up but her voice wavers through, "And send me a picture of your rich fiance."

"Oh, yeah, I will."

-

SOME WEEKS LATER

Jane squeals seeing you step out from behind the curtains. You're almost ready with the gown on and your makeup done, only the veil left to be put on.

"Oh my god!" She screams with glee, a grin on her face. "You! Look at you! Oh my god!"

You look gorgeous, undeniably. The wedding gown is almost too beautiful to be real and an expensive purchase, selected by Mrs. Choi. Your makeup and hair is done neatly and you almost don't recognize yourself. Jane only squeals from behind you time to time, saying how amazing you look.

"You're forgetting that this isn't a real wedding," you remind her, your tone bitter than you intended.

Jane raises a brow, "Why do you sound sad?"

Warmth covers your face, "I'm not!" It is a cheap lie, you do feel sad and you know that deep down you wished this was real.

Shit. You've got it really bad.

"Aww, babe," Jane hugs you tightly. "It's okay, it's gonna be okay. Who knows, Seungcheol may fall head over heels for you after seeing you in this."

You roll your eyes, "Not even in my wildest dreams."

A knock on the door interrupts you and your mother steps into the room, dressed in a cream colored dress, her hair neatly done. It has been a while since you last saw her dressed up.

"I'll leave you two to talk," Jane excuses herself, stepping out of the room.

"Hey," you smile tightly. She returns it. "You look beautiful," her words are short and her eyes are teary. There's a short silence before she sighs loudly,"I know I haven't been the best mom...but I'm really proud of you, I hope you know that."

You sigh; you really don't want to cry before your wedding- fake wedding. "It's okay," you give her a small smile and sit down in front of the mirror, "Can you help me with the veil?"

She steps in behind you and starts setting up the veil on your hair, speaking, "Seungcheol is a nice guy, I had a chat with him earlier. He'll take good care of you."

You resist the urge to heave out a sad sigh. Instead you grin as brightly as you can, "I know, right."

She finishes putting the veil on you and you stand up, looking at the mirror, gathering all the last bits of your courage.

"I could walk you down the isle you know...it doesn't always have to be dads," your mother whispers.

"It's okay, I'll do it on my own," you avoid her eyes. This is a fake wedding and you don't want her to walk you down the isle, no. Maybe when you get married for real one day- but not this time.

Giving your mother a quick hug, you step out of the dressing room.

The isle looks dreadful. Walking on a path full of thorns bare feet would've been easier. Seungcheol stands at the other end, his full attention on you. You inhale deeply and take small steps towards him- all the while his eyes on you. You are intimated and in the back of your mind you can't help thinking that this was a very bad decision. You feel pathetic. A bride without anyone to accompany her down the isle. A greedy woman agreeing to a fake marriage. A liar, lying to everyone through your teeth.

Each step only gets harder to take and after what feels like an eternity, you reach the end, stopping in front of him. His face doesn't give away anything. A small part of you wonders if he thinks you look beautiful- you hope he thinks that.

You take a step and get on the wooden stage with the help of his extended hand. The priest begins the ceremony. All the while, Seungcheol's eyes are dark, glinting like a predator who has finally captured his prey.

He smirks. "I do."

With tears burning in the back of your eyes, you repeat after him, overwhelmed with emotions.

When he leans in for the kiss, you forget to breathe as your lips meet and he kisses you softly yet passionately. The guests cheer for you and when you look at them, you see joy, contradicting to what you feel. For some reason tears threaten to slip but you smile, forcing them away.

One fake marriage can't end your life.

-

You enjoy the rest of the ceremony more than you thought you would, all the worries slipping away from your system as you watch everyone celebrate. Time to time you take peeks at Seungcheol to see him staring at you- his eyes dark and intense, sending a shiver down your spine.

You've spent a good amount of him hanging out with him during the weeks before your wedding, either at his apartment, yours or a nice restaurant. You've only found yourself more drawn to him as you spent more time and after each date ended you wanted him to kiss you like he did after that visit to his parents' house. Unfortunately for you, Seungcheol kept his hands totally off you, only giving you quick forehead pecks as goodbyes.

As your eyes connect, sitting next to each other after the dance, you find yourself craving for him. You want his hands all over you.

Is that wrong?

-

A sudden, new wave of embarrassment hits you as you enter the limousine after the ceremony. Seungcheol helps you get in before entering through the opposite door as you quickly collect your beautiful dress together and sit quietly, staring at your lap.

It's almost 9 o'clock and the traffic has faded away. Seungcheol is taking you to his penthouse, a place you've only heard him talk about, a place he said you'd enjoy living in.

You wonder how the next couple years would be. How will it be like to live with him? Will you sleep in the same bed every night? Will he even enjoy sharing his house with you? What if he hates having you around?

"Are you ignoring me?" Seungcheol's voice pulls you back to reality.

You try not to appear shy and flustered, "Huh? No, no I'm not."

"You've been awfully quiet since you've walked down the isle."

"Just... thinking." You reply meekly. Damn it, why do you feel so shy?

There's a silence as Seungcheol looks out the window, hands under his chin. You take the moment to appreciate his profile, ogling him unashamedly. You really, truly, want to be in his arms. And you should probably get your head checked.

"Do you regret doing this?" He asks suddenly.

"No! No, I do not," you protest to which he nods, understanding.

After a beat if silence his hand gently cups yours. You stop breathing. "I'll try to make your living as comfortable as possible. Don't hesitate to let me know if you have any problem." His expression is serious and you nod, throat dry. He smile is soft, showing just a bit of his dimples as he holds onto your hand, not letting go. You try to calm your breathing which proves to be an impossible task whenever you look at your joined hands.

After almost an hour drive, the limousine stops and your breath is sucked out as you get out of it. In front of you stands a huge building with the fanciest design and you can't wait to see what's inside. Seungcheol helps you with your dress and casually holds your hand as you both walk into the elevator. It heads for the seventeenth floor and during that whole period of time Seungcheol doesn't let go of your hand. When the elevator stops and you both step out into a large lobby, leading to his penthouse. Seungcheol swipes the card to open the door and it's only after you step into the apartment that he lets your hand go.

You probably look like a deer in headlights as you gawk at the beautiful home, equipped to unbelievably expensive appliances and delicate designing. With high ceilings and full length windows and beautiful pieces of furniture and marble fittings it's too pretty to touch.

All the while Seungcheol's eyes are on you, amused at your reaction. "You like it?" He grins.

"I...wow," you're speechless. "This is...huge." You say dumbly. Seungcheol laughs heartily before once again taking your hand, "Let me give you a quick tour."

And so he does, showing you around the house, the huge kitchen connected to the living room, the library, the study room the guest bedrooms and finally stopping before the master bedroom.

A king sized bed lies by the huge windows. There's a closet with an amount of space you could only dream of. The master bathroom is almost the size of your studio apartment and a wave of embarrassment hits you. Will you ever get used to this? You only feel more embarrassed when you remember that this isn't yours forever.

Shit, ___. Get a grip.

You plop down on the large fluffy bed and pry off your heels from your aching feet. You watch as Seungcheol stands in front of the dresser, slowing undoing his bow tie.

There's a small moment where you both lock eyes before you cough loudly, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. Instead you quietly take off your earnings and reach for the buttons behind your dress- except, your hands can't reach them.

Seungcheol sees you struggling, "Let me do it for you." You almost let out a squeak, feeling shy and excited. You stand up as he appears behind you and starts to unbutton your dress, slowly.

It feels like eternity as you stand, holding your breath, blood pumping loudly in your veins.

Seungcheol's deep voice sends shivers down your spine, "There, done." He says that but doesn't move from behind you, his hands resting on your shoulders as the cool air hits you back. You, too, seems to be stuck on your place as you can't move a muscle. Your conscience slaps her head, what the hell is wrong with you?

"Did I tell you how beautiful you look?" Seungcheol's mouth is extremely close to your ear and you can't help but squeak, warmth spreading through your body like wildfire.

"You look lovely, so beautiful," His voice is deep as he strokes the column of your neck before turning you to face him.

Your eyes are wide like saucers and your face is on fire, literally. Just being this close to him, with none around, makes your brain stop functioning.

He leans in and captures your lips in a kiss, without any warning whatsoever. Your tongues collide and you let him take the lead, his hand grabbing your ass, unashamedly.

"Tell me if you want me stop, I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"No!" You grab onto his broad shoulders and pull him towards you again, meeting your lips once more. Of course you want him. You've wanted him since God knows how long.

While peppering your face with kisses, he pushes down your gown for you to step out of it. The cold air makes you shiver as you're left in a lacy white underwear with garter belts. Seungcheol's eyes move over your, taking in your figure. He swallows before pushing you down onto the bed and climbing over you, hurriedly taking off his suit jacket and shirt.

His eyes are locked on yours and your heart is beating a mile a minute. He looks like some god, his black locks messy and his chiseled face staring down at you, his strong body on top of you. You can't stop yourself from ogling his torso when his shirt comes off, leaving his toned muscles and biceps for you to see. Before you know it, you're reaching out to touch him. Your fingers dance over his chest and abdomen before your eyes meet and Seungcheol groans, cupping your face for another kiss.

He's quick to strip you off your bra while literring your neck and chest with kisses and bites. After fully undressing you and taking yet another unembarrassed look at your body Seungcheol asks, "Are you sure?"

You whine, needy and impatient, "Yes, please, Seungcheol. Fuck me." You're surprised at your own eagerness but it only turns Seungcheol on, a devilish smirk on his lips.

"My pleasure sweetheart." He whispers before going down between your legs.

-

Soft morning light hits your face, waking you up in the process. It takes a while for you to assess everything and you feel your body, especially lower half, ache deliciously- an aftermath of the numerous orgasms Seungcheol gave you yesterday night.

A strong arm is wrapped around your waist from behind, making you feel warm and safe. You sigh, playing with the wedding ring on your finger.

You're married now. To Choi Seungcheol. Shit.

Instead of letting your mind start overthinking, you gently turn around to face your husband, careful not to wake him up.

He lies there, fast asleep, his beautiful features relaxed, the morning light giving him an angelic glow. Before you can stop yourself, you're reaching out to stroke his face, your gentle fingers tracing his skin. He's so soft, so beautiful. Your heart constricts, thinking about how much you want to spend the rest of your life in his arms.

You'd be more than happy to be by his side, sharing a home with him, helping him whenever he's in need, making a family-

A sudden realisation that you tried to bury all this time dawns on you, bringing tears to your eyes.

You're in love with Choi Seungcheol.

Taglist: @chimikima @all-i-needislovee @peekabooseoksoon @masterpiecejoonie @sorrywonwoo @sweetiescoops @diamondsvts @insidesvt @bononswife @ayla-hathway @kpopssuregi @justasoftstan @top-crop @wainrain @jisungsdreamy @moon-asia @rocketink @hobis-hopeworld @coppertrashi @honeyyjihoon @seoulnights5 @rjsmochii @1-800-fandomsdestroyedme @mimaisiomai @gyubagebin @chrryhwa @junsfei

A/N 2: Please know that reblogs hold a special meaning to writers, so if you enjoyed it please reblog. And if can spare a few seconds, kindly reblog with comments. The feedback I get from everyone encourages me to write, so please do that 💖.

Also, Choi Seungcheol please come wife me up.

[thepoodlepack]

What's wrong with goldenpoodles? I'm genuinely curious because almost all of my dogs are mixed breeds and behave fine. So I'm curious if there's something else I'm missing

jeez this feels like bait but u kno what, you got me

alright, so it goes like this. the doodle really began with a guy in australia being like i need the temperament of a lab for a guide dog but these ppl are allergic to dogs, so i need a poodle bc they have hair, not fur. so he bred em together. years later he’s like damn that was a mistake.

now, why, exactly? alright so first of all he only needed that mix bc labs on average tend to adapt better to situations that are largely exclusive to service dog work than poodles do. i can go into what this means at a later date, but that’s basically how it is. but either way, people jumped on this creation and it kinda spiraled out of control. soon, poodles were being bred by everyone and every breed. suddenly, they were a marketing scam more then they were a dog breed.

oh theyre hypoallergenic! all of them, all the time cause zero allergies! look theyre so much better than poodles! theyre friendly and easy to train, not like poodles of course, just like labs! they’re better than labs bc none of them shed, ever! they’re super healthy bc breeding labs and poodles together wipes out all their health problems, of course!

lies, lies lies. the aussie guy, whose name i’m not going to look up bc i’m lazy but who you can find if you google creator of doodles, straight up says that even the first litter(s) of labradoodles he bred had puppies that the people he bred them for were allergic to. he very carefully tested the litter and the reaction the person had before placing a puppy that was not going to hurt them.

think of the punnet squares we all learned about in 5th grade science class. you draw the squares and one parent has two fur genes and the other parent has two hair genes and what do you get? well if you have four puppies, one might have hairhair and the next one might have hairfur and the next one might have furhair and the next one might have furfur. and so guess what? only hairhair pup is going to be the best choice for allergic people. additionally, you can see why the non-shedding thing can be bullshit, and that in particular is also a guessing game. you may be able to test allergy sufferers against the pups, but that does not necessarily mean they won’t shed. hairfur, for example, may be a good choice for some allergic people, but perhaps they’ve got just enough fur to shed anyway. also, lets look at salukis (and frankly, most long-haired sighthounds). salukis are still considered dogs with fur, not hair. they also still shed, even though it’s just a little. and yet they’re still considered good for allergy sufferers.

(ps poodles do actually shed. but they shed like humans shed. your hair comes out, doesn’t it? like, esp folks with long hair, aren’t people always complaining how you clog the shower drain? yeah, like that. ALSO obviously the situation is more complicated then super simple punnet squares and as an ex-groomer i have something to say about doodle coats but i’m going to save that for later, put a pin in it.)

oh and wait a hot minute there. i said best choice, didn’t i, not hypoallergenic. well, that’s because no dog is hypoallergenic. poodles, and a few other dog breeds, they have hair, like we do. but the thing is both humans and breeds with hair still produce the dander, though they’re different kinds. breeds with hair happen to produce the least amount possible that dogs can produce, which is why they’re a better choice for allergy sufferers, but that’s still not a guarantee. my roommate Dakota is allergic to dogs. if i don’t wash my dogs for an extended period of time (which has never happened, ever, in my life, idk what ur talking about), thus giving the chance for the dander my dogs still produce, he will have a very, very mild reaction when touching them. it can be countered by him washing his hands after touching them and also me just giving them a fucking bath, i need to stop forgetting, but still, there you go. ALSO people might not be allergic to dogs bc of their dander. they might be allergic to the saliva of dogs, which poodles or any other breed with hair still produces about the same as other dogs. so, yeah, not hypoallergenic, not at all.

the people who taut their hypoallergenic dogs for sale largely don’t do the testing required to check if they’re actually providing a dog to someone who won’t react to it. not acceptable at all.

so, labs are friendly and easy to train right? not at all like poodles, right? no. absolutely incorrect. some labs are friendly and easy to train. some labs, a lot of them when they’re puppies, are nightmare fuel. personally, i have a theory that everyone’s vision of labs in their heads are either a) service dogs or b) those old labs who are slightly pudgy (or morbidly obsess, which is a different topic) and who are graying in the face and just want to lounge around because they’re seniors now. alright, so here’s why thats bad. labs are a working breed. a retrieving breed. they’re supposed to be bulky and strong and driven. service dogs are highly trained, to a point that most pet dogs will never see, and if you see them with their actual disabled handler, they’ll probably be around 2.5 yrs of age and out of their most wild days. old labs are well. old. sleepy. maybe a bit achey. and well out of their most wild days. oh, and it’s the same type of thing with goldens by the way, the other most popular doodle type. poodles are also easy to train, especially if their parents have a decent temperament. they’re all about equal if you actually start training them when they’re puppies and just pay for some training classes, like everyone should. in the puppy classes i’m in right now, Euphoria is leaps and bounds ahead of doodles, goldens, and labs that are her age or older. I train her properly and she’s got amazing parents. that’s it, that’s the trick. not breed, not necessarily, and def not in this case.

I am once again going to say that labs and goldens are more often used as service dogs than poodles because of their adaptability, but it’s the ability to adapt to situations that most pet dogs will never have to worry about.

jeez this is a long post. i’ve still got more to cover too. alright, on to super healthy, or “hybrid vigor” as the nerds call it. uhh, it’s bullshit. thank u for ur time.

okay, but actually why on gods green earth would breeding two completely different breeds with little to no research make them super healthy? now i want to preface this with i’m (generally) pro-outcross projects. Euphoria’s dad is half mini poodle and half standard poodle, which isn’t technically an outcross bc all the variations are of the same breed, but if we’re going by genetic diversity alone minis and standards are different enough to actually be different breeds.

so, to be clear, outcrosses, given the proper thought and planning: good, results in healthier dogs (see: lua dals). randomly breeding two very different breeds together with no planning other than to sell the puppies to randos who won’t continue the outcross: bad. especially when you’re doing it to cash in and don’t health test at all, or don’t health test the major health problems with both breeds (if you’re doing an f2 breeding or anything like that). no the poodle’s health problems don’t get canceled out by the goldens or labs or whatever the other party’s health problems are, and vice versa. and yeah, i’ve looked at a lot of doodle breeder’s websites and yeah, most of them don’t health test at all, or at least don’t health test properly. do you know i own one doodle and currently live with another? yeah, i got them both from breeders and do you know how much health testing their parents got? if your answer is none, good job, you’ve been paying attention. in my defense, i was like 13, i didn’t know what i was doing.

alright, so those are the big points. this is kinda gonna be just... a mix of my other complaints. here we go, hope you’re ready for more. argument the first: i feel like it’s pretty disrespectful to reputable breeders. now, i actually have two reasons why that is. reason one: most reputable poodle breeders don’t want their breeding stock bred with other breeds, for various reasons. i’ve even met a few who used to be okay with it and then as the doodle scam got bigger and more out of control, they stopped being okay with it, even to the breeders who they had been fine with it in the past. that means a lot of doodle breeders out there have their breeding stock because they scammed poodle breeders into giving them pet quality, not breeding quality, dogs or because they’re getting their stock from non-reputable breeders. i also feel it’s disrespectful to breeders who are actually trying to create new breeds. quite frankly, a breed with the size, strength, and adaptability of a lab or golden that doesn’t shed and that has the train-ability of a poodle, lab, or golden sounds pretty interesting to me. did you know you can actually make that breed? and it wouldn’t be a cross with unpredictable... well, everything. it would actually be a true dog breed.

Look at Silken Windhounds and Biewer Terriers who began both development in the 1980s. Biewer Terriers were recognized by the AKC this year, and Silken Windhounds still haven’t been. And yeah, that’s the problem isn’t it? Making a real new breed takes a lot of time, planning, and care. People would rather just cash in. I think it’s sad and I think it’s disrespectful to the breeders who do work so hard to make actual new breeds.

and finally, unpin being an ex-groomer goddamnit. guess what? doodles are awful to groom! they’re terrible on the grooming tables because people want to have in both ways: they want a dog that doesnt shed at all and they want a dog who doesn’t need to be groomed. well guess what, that dog doesn’t exist and you can have it only one way. and also, bring back the goddamn punnet squares because a lot of doodles have awful coats. if you have hairfur and furhair over there, guess what, their coat fucking sucks bc it’s not meant to be like that. it wants to mat bc hair but also it wants the mats to slide out bc short-ish fur but its too thick for the mats to slide out bc thick hair. and yes its more complicated then this and that means its often more awful then this. its awful, it makes me want to cry. and maybe it’s slightly easier to get away with it with a shorthaired dog like a lab, or, you know what, even a golden, okay, even a slightly long haired dog like a golden but people are doodling akitas? border collies? bernese fucking mountain dogs? i am crying. i am crying right now as i type this.

lets do a sum up to this disaster of a post. look, i don’t go out there attacking or yelling at every doodle or every doodle owner i see, alright? or any of them really. i might engage in conversation to one that’s interested, but that’s it. i love my doodly Isis, okay? shes tiny and she’s adorable and I love her more than life and i will never, ever get another doodle. i don’t like the way they’ve gotten so prolific, i don’t like the reasons they’re now widespread, and i don’t like almost all of the people that create them, including the ones i’ve literally given my (parents) money to in the past. i wish they were better but i just cannot approve of them, especially not in the environment they exist in now. that said, i do support them in their original use case as assistance dogs, and i do not care about them if they’re shelter dogs.

[heyyyharry]

i freaking love how flatmate!harry is still petty when it comes to jack even though y/n has told him countless of times that h’s is the only one for her but little bb h still get pouty. allie plssss make a blurb involving jack and harry because i’m dyingggg to read ab it 😭😭😭

This is how I imagine them seeing each other when both get a free afternoon to pick up their kids.

.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

Harry smiled.

Jack smiled back.

They both turned at the same time and stood against their cars. Harry managed to keep his cool but he was cursing inside his head. Should he get back in the car? Why did he even go outside? He could have just waited in the car.

Yeah, right, because Ria wanted him to stand by his car as she walked out of school so she could brag about him to her friends. “You make their dads look boring,” she’d said. Harry had told her that it wasn’t nice to say that about her friends’ dads, but he agreed with her.

But now that Jack was here, he wouldn’t be the most handsome dad waiting outside the school anymore. Why didn’t this man just wait in the car? Why did he have to do what Harry did? 

For one careless second, Harry let himself recall what Y/N had said to him. She’d had a little crush on Jack for a while because Jack had reminded her of Harry. 

Harry sucked in a breath and squared his shoulders. He was the blueprint, though. That was what she’d meant when she’d said that. And why was this street so quiet? Where was everyone? Why were they standing so far away from the other parents? Where was that white lady who kept coming to talk to Harry about her poodle?

“So,” Jack said.

Harry kept a straight face but the voice in his head was chanting, Please don’t start a conversation. Please don’t start a conversation.

“How’s your family?”

Fuck.

“Oh, they’re good,” Harry said, nodding and rubbing his chin. “Yours?”

“Also good.” Jack nodded.

“Good.” Harry nodded.

Silence ensued.

Should he talk about the weather?

“Daddy!”

Thank God!

“Baby!” Harry squat down and opened his arms. His six-year-old daughter rushed into him and wrapped her short arms around his neck.

“Daddy, I missed you!” she said and kissed both of his cheeks.

“I missed you, too,” he said, cupping her chubby face. “How was your day, baby?”

“Ryan pulled my hair so I pushed him off his chair.”

“Again?” Harry huffed. “I’ll have to talk to his parents the next time I see them. That boy is out of control.”

Ria opened her mouth to tell him something else when she finally noticed Jack and her mouth widened. “Are you Jack?!”

Shit!

“You know about me?” Jack asked, looking amused.

“Yeah, Mummy—”

“Yes, baby, Jack is Mummy’s friend,” Harry cut her off, forever cursing Niall and Layla for telling her about Jack. Jack looked confused, so Harry gave him a polite smile as he took his daughter’s hand and opened the door to the backseat of his car. “Let’s go, baby. Mummy’s waiting at home. Say goodbye to Jack.”

“Goodbye, Jack.” She waved then covered her mouth to ‘whisper’ to Jack, “You’re very handsome.”

Harry sighed as he watched her climb into the backseat. Like mother like daughter, he thought.

“I love you, Daddy,” Ria said on the drive home.

Harry smiled and looked at her through the mirror. “I love you, too.”

Pursing her lips, she twisted one of her pigtails around her finger. “So even if Mummy chooses Jack, I’ll still choose you.”

Harry jolted so hard he nearly missed a turn. He frowned at Ria, who was giving him a sympathetic look. “Mummy’s not choosing Jack,” he said calmly, “She and I are married.”

“Lily’s parents are married and—”

“Ice cream?”

“Yessss!”

Then she went on and on about her favourite flavours for the next twenty minutes, finally leaving Harry alone.

[lovely-ateez]

Teach Me~

ꕥPosted: 9/1/20

ꕥGenre: Smut, Fluff

ꕥPairing: Yeosang x Fem!Reader

ꕥWord Count: ~1.7k

ꕥWarnings: Fingering, Praising (f receiving), Protected sex, Oral (f receiving)

ꕥA/N: The next post I’m making is Pt. 2 for Ice Cream! Hope you enjoy this one as well as the next :))

“Damn skater boys and their skills. Why can’t I skateboard?” I whined, lazily flopping myself on the library table.

The university I attended allowed bikes and skateboards on campus, so it was common to see people riding either on their way to class. Skateboards were far more convenient, though, and if I knew how to skateboard I’d be riding along with them.

My friend Varsha rolled her eyes at me, “Ask one of them to teach you if you’re so eager, then.” She took a sip of her mocha frappuccino.

“Noooo they look so intimidating. I’d make a fool of myself anyways.”

“Then stop complaining, you big baby. Listen I’ve got class in 10 minutes so I’ll see you later, yeah?”

She walked away as I waved goodbye at her and I felt myself still pouting.

A deep voice startled me, “I don’t think I’m that intimidating, personally.”

Jumping, I faced the owner of the voice. A Greek god appeared before my eyes, his blond locks flowing slightly past his neck. If he didn’t just confirm that he was a skater, his clothes sure would have. His pink beanie looked like it was falling off his head, and his loose shirt and ripped jeans hid his frame, but I just knew he had abs.

The man saw me checking him out and raised a brow. “You’re cute. Meet me in parking lot A at five today. I’ll teach you how to skate.”

He walked away before I had the chance to refuse or even get his name. Well shit. What have I gotten myself into?

-

My final class of the day let out at noon, giving me plenty of time to mull over what I was going to do about the man’s proposal. On one hand, I have no clue who he is or why he would want to help me. He’s a stranger. I literally didn’t even know his name. Yet, on the other hand, he was a terribly handsome man who was willing to teach me how to skate, and I was dying to learn.

I drove back to the on-campus apartments, waiting for Varsha to arrive. I needed a second opinion and as my roommate and a good friend, she was always there to help me.

While I was waiting I decided to change into clothes that would be easy to skate in. You know, just in case. I realized I didn’t have too many exercise clothes to choose from, so I just slipped on a pair of jean shorts and a plain white tank top. It was hot outside so threw my hair in a ponytail.

As I was tying my hair up, I heard Varsha come barging in. “What’s up, fuckers?”

Varsha waltzed into our shared room and began to remove a few books from her backpack.

“Okay first of all, rude. Second, Sinoo and Trixie aren’t here, so it’s singular; fucker.”

Sinoo and Trixie were our dormmates and they shared a separate a room together. We were all about the same age, all sophomores, and shared similar interests so we bonded pretty quickly.

Sinoo was a transfer student from Korea and was just about the kindest soul you’d ever meet. Her English was so good that we swore it was her native language, which she vehemently denied. Sinoo was a music major and had the voice of a literal angel. She would sing almost 24/7 but no one minded because of her voice. Her positive energy was contagious, and she always made us smile.

Trixie was the embodiment of a stereotypical girly-girl. She had long, blonde hair and always wore fashionable clothes. It was strange to have a weekend where she wasn’t begging us to go shopping with her. Like Sinoo, she had a kind heart. She could come across as brash sometimes, but was an incredibly loyal person. Trixie changed her major about four different times, finally settling on majoring in fashion design, although I wouldn’t be surprised if she changed it again.

And Varsha was a true chaotic neutral if I’ve ever met one. Her antics could be slightly unpredictable, but she always knew how to make someone smile. A day wouldn’t go by without her mentioning her adorable white poodle at home and how much she missed him. She was a comfort to have around and the apartment always felt empty without her. Varsha was undecided on her major but knowing her, she’d be able to do anything well.

“So I need advice.”

Varsha gave me a curious look. “About what?”

I explained my situation to her and she laughed. “Go with him, duh.”

“What if he like kidnaps me or something?”

“Okay first of all, I know where you’re at and what time you’ll be there. If you’re not back in two hours I’ll call campus security, okay?”

I nodded, embarrassingly not needing anymore convincing.

-

I arrived three minutes early. The parking lot was surprisingly empty, but since it was a Friday, I wasn’t too surprised. Most students went home for the weekend anyway.

Not knowing what to to, I pulled out my phone to mindlessly scroll through social media. I glanced up when I heard footsteps approaching.

“Didn’t think you’d come, to be honest. Glad you did.” The man grinned, “You ready for your first lesson?”

“I suppose so.” I paused, “What’s your name?”

The question must’ve caught him off guard, given the confused expression on his face.

“Oh yeah.” He laughed, “I’m Yeosang.”

I reached out to shake his hand, introducing myself as well. Yeosang motioned to his skateboard, setting it down.

“Alright. What’s the first rule of skateboarding?”

“Uhh...don’t break your skull?”

Yeosang laughed, nodding. “Well, I suppose that’s a good objective, but no. Balance is key. How good is your balance?”

“Mediocre at best.”

Yeosang tried his best to suppress a smile but failed terribly. I wasn’t sure why he tried to hide it. Every bit of him was so alluring.

“Alright then. I’ll hold you so you don’t fall. Now step up on the board just like this.” He demonstrated the action as he spoke, maintaining perfect balance.

I whined as I watched him. “There’s no way in hell I can do that, Yeosang.”

“Not with that attitude, you can’t.”

He led me to the board and I hopped on, doing my best to stabilize myself. I didn’t notice how his hands were gripping my hips or how close his face was to mine...at first. But when I did, my face instantly flushed.

With a raised brow, the man leaned even closer, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were blushing. I wonder what for? Could it be me?” The growl in his voice sent a shock straight to my core.

I forced myself to stable my breathing, “No. Get over yourself.”

“Feisty. I like it.”

-

We practiced for about an hour and a half but all I was able to accomplish was standing upright on the board.

“We’ve been practicing for quite awhile. Would you want to get a drink? It’s really hot.” Yeosang looked at me with genuine concern.

“Honestly, that would be fantastic.”

“My apartment isn’t too far from here. I can take you there and I can get you whatever.”

Normally, I wouldn’t have agreed in such a situation, but somehow I felt pulled to him. Like I couldn’t say no. And so, I agreed.

Yeosang picked up his skateboard and began to walk, leading me in an unfamiliar direction.

“So which apartment do you live in, Yeosang?”

“I live in Stockdale. Kinda sucks that it’s so far away from campus but it’s close to the lake so at least it has a pretty view.”

I nodded, “Ah I live in Callahan.”

“Oh yeah I lived in that apartment last year.”

I followed Yeosang up to the second floor of Stockdale and watched as he unlocked the door. All apartments had the same basic layout so the room essentially looked the same as mine, except for the position of the furniture and electronics scattered about the floor.

I sat down on the couch in his living room as Yeosang disappeared into his kitchen. I looked at the ugly, blue patched cushions that were placed on his couch. If they were unique to his apartment I would have teased him about it, but unfortunately the entire university decided that the pattern was ideal for all couches across campus.

A deep voice grabbed my attention. “Red punch okay?”

“Yeah that’s fine. Honestly anything is okay at this point.” I laughed. He passed me a cup filled with the red liquid and I took a sip.

“Thanks, by the way. For both teaching me and the drink.”

Yeosang smiled. “Not a problem. If you wanna get good though, you’ve gotta practice more. We should meet again.”

I smiled. “I’d like that...Oh shit-“ I quickly grabbed my phone from my pocket, remembering to text Varsha.

Noticing Yeosang’s confused look, I clarified. “I told my roommate if I didn’t call within two hours or so to call security.”

I felt embarrassed as I said it aloud but Yeosang let out a hearty laugh. “Did you think I was going to rob you or something?”

“Hey! I didn’t know!” I pouted, still slightly embarrassed.

“I mean fair enough. You didn’t even know my name...I guess someone was desperate to learn how to skate.”

“Shut up.” As I was trying to place my phone back into my pocket I spilled some punch on my shirt.

“Aww. I don’t wanna clean that up.” I whined.

Yeosang chuckled. “Lick it off, then.”

I felt a surge of confidence. “Why don’t you?”

The joking, carefree air around us had somehow shifted. The atmosphere felt tense. I was teasing at first but, I began to realize that I wanted him to do it.

He ran his tongue over his lips and my head clouded with thoughts of how his lips would feel running along the inside of my thighs, teasing me until I pleaded him to reach just slightly above.

The darkness in his gaze made me want to beg him to kiss me, to touch me, to give me anything. I tried to remember to keep my composure but it wasn’t working too well.

Thankfully, I didn’t have to wait too long before he pulled me close, locking his lips with mine. I leaned into him and wrapped my arms around his neck.

Biting my bottom lip, Yeosang slowly pulled back. “I think you need to changed out of this t-shirt, what do you say?”

I knew his words meant more than than what they appeared on the surface, especially given the look in his eyes.

I leaned in close to Yeosang’s ear, “I think I need you to help me.”

My words seemed to be the breaking point for him. His lips clashed back onto mine and before I knew it, he was setting me down on his bed.

Yeosang pinned my hands above my head and gently began kissing my neck. I closed my eyes, reveling in the feeling.

One of Yeosang’s hands grazed my clit through my shorts and I gasped. Yeosang smirked at me and slid down my shorts. When they were fully off he dipped a few of his fingers into my panties to tease me. I wiggled around, begging him to give me more.

“What a needy girl you are.” The man’s eyes were glazed over, lust controlling his every move.

I whimpered, “Please, Yeosang.”

“Only because you said please.”

He released my hands and slid his own down to my waist. Spreading my legs further apart, he bit the hem of my panties and slowly pulled them off of me with his teeth.

“Fuck, you look hot.” He told me as he threw my soaking panties across the room.

If I had the ability to form sentences, I would have told him the same, but I was so overwhelmed with the current situation that I simply couldn’t.

Yeosang lifted my legs over his shoulders and held my hips down in place. I felt his tongue gloss over my clit, making my back arch off the bed. He proceeded to kiss the inside of my thighs, slowly making his way up to where I wanted him. After what felt like forever, he began to slowly eat me out. I didn’t expect him to be as good as he was and all I could do was moan. I couldn’t be more thankful that none of his roommates where there.

“Shit. Yeosang I...I’m close. Please.”

I knew he heard me, but he didn’t acknowledge me outright. His steady pace continued, finally permitting my release. He reached up to kiss me, making me taste myself.

“Do you want to go further?”

His eyes were kind and showed concern, not trying to influence me in one way or the other.

“Yes.” I breathed out.

He once again tried to hide his smile, as if he was trying not to appear too eager. The man grabbed a condom out of his bedstand and quickly discarded the rest of his clothes. I, doing the same.

“Ready, darling?” Yeosang asked as he was slipping on the condom.

“Definitely,” I breathed out.

At a slow pace he entered me, stretching my walls and making me cry out at the pleasure.

“Such a good girl. Taking me so well. You’re so beautiful, you know that?” I felt tears prick at my eyes during his praises and I realized I didn’t want him to stop.

“Please don’t stop that.”

“Awe baby girl likes being praised? Well let me tell you, you’re doing a wonderful—fuck.” A deep growl left his throat as I unconsciously began to clench around him.

“You’re making me feel so good, sweetheart. What a good girl you are for me.”

His right hand wandered up to play with my nipples, gently fondling them. The euphoric feeling spurred on my rapidly approaching orgasm.

“Yeosang I’m gonna...c-cum again. Please.”

His thrusts gradually sped up as my hands grasped his biceps, nails digging into his skin.

Leaning towards my ear, he whispered, “Cum for me, darling.”

After a few more thrusts, I came hard, a mantra of his name falling from my lips.

“Just hold on a little longer, darling. I’m almost there.” The overstimulation wasn’t as bad as I thought it might’ve been, but it was entirely possible that Yeosang’s heavenly, fucked out expression compensated for it. Panting heavily, Yeosang soon reached his high and stilled. He gently pulled out and placed a kiss on my forehead.

“You’re really good at that, you know? Are you this sweet with all the girls?” I joked.

He gave me a slightly confused expression before his face returned to a more serious one.

“I haven’t done this in a long time. Like probably over a year at this point.” He scratched the back of his head, eyes darting anywhere but me. “Actually, I didn’t even mean for this to happen, believe it or not...You know I saw you on campus a few times and thought you were really cute. I’m glad I got the chance to approach you.” He watched me with calming eyes as I blushed.

“So...what now?” I asked, sheepishly.

His shy smile—which I think had become my favorite of his smiles—made an appearance.

“It’s probably silly, given what we just did, but I’d like to take you on a date. Or at least meet up to study or something...point is I’d like to see you again.” He held eye contact with me.

“I’d enjoy that. Plus, I could use a pro to teach me how to ride a skateboard.”

Yeosang rolled his eyes, a dazzling smile painting his face, “Oh whatever. I’m not that good.”

The butterflies I felt in my stomach were so unique to him. I didn’t want to admit how excited I was to see him again, but I was. And in that moment, all I could think about was how glad I was that he offered to teach me.

[wannawritefast]

Whiplash: Ch. 4- Pretending

A/N: Hey guys! Thanks for all the love on the last part! I totally didnt realize there was no title or link to the previous part. I distinctly remember doing that... maybe Tumblr had a goof... Just a heads up that a fixed it and all that jazz. 

Pt. 3

Pairing: Gwilym Lee! Brian Lee x Reader

Donna left the end of that weekend grateful to have spent time with her sister. And you felt equally as grateful to have gotten some bonding time before the holidays rolled around.

You and Brian continued your charade until before long it was time to leave for your family’s house. There was a plethora of Christmases where you didn’t want to go back home for the holidays or even want to celebrate the ‘happiest time of the year’ at all. But this Christmas… this one took the fruitcake.

The night before you left you didn’t get a wink of sleep. You often chalked it up to the fact that your cat was not present (having been put in a kennel earlier that day) and the subsequent lack of him in your bed. But you knew deep down that it was because, this time, you would be coming home with a boyfriend. A fake one.

That seemed to scare you more than you thought it should. If they didn’t believe you or if they found out, you would NEVER be able to live it down. And then there was Brian.

He was too kind and sweet and caring and goofy to you. He treated you better than you deserved. Sometimes you didn’t think it was real. Brian was your best friend and you knew that you could always depend on him. If anything ever happened to jeopardize that, you didn’t know what you’d do.

The two of you left in the mid-morning on the 21st, Brian picking you up and getting breakfast along the way. It took a few hours but you got to your parents’ house by mid-afternoon. Even though you jammed to cassettes the whole way there, your nerves still wracked your body.

7 days at your parents’ house in the English country and 7 days at his. Two weeks. You could do two weeks.

Finally the two of you arrived at your family’s big country house, pulling up in front of the large property. Brian put the car in park and turned off the engine. He reached to unbuckle his seatbelt in the now silent car but you grabbed his wrist to stop him.

“Brian, we don’t have to do this,” you looked him right in the eye.

He coughed out a chuckle. “What?”

“We can turn around right now. I can just say I got sick,” you reached to turn the ignition but he shooed your hands away.

“We’ve come this far and you want to turn around?” Brian questioned. You nodded emphatically. “Oh, come on now. I’m ready and you’re ready.”

“No, Brian,” you let out a panicked breath. This was such a bad idea. You should have just been honest with them from the beginning. “I don’t think I can do this.”

“We’re basically at the front door,” he turned in his seat. “We can’t go back now.”

“Watch me,” you reached for the ignition again.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Brian grabbed your hand and held it. “We’re here. It’s going to be alright.”

You looked out the windows nervously for any sign that your parents or siblings had seen you arrive. “How can you be so sure?”

“I’m not.” Brian fiddled with your fingers and kissed the back of your hand, stirring up butterflies again. “But there’s only one way to find out.”

And with that, he unbuckled his seatbelt, opened his car door and went straight to the trunk, making sure that his keys were in his pocket. You jumped out after him. He was smart. Leaving the vehicle before you could object further… 

He opened the latch and was beginning to take out the luggage. “Brian, I mean it. We can still leave. No one’s seen-”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” His green-eyed gaze was fixed on the front door.

“Y/N’S HOME!!”

“Y/N’S HOME!!” Donna exclaimed, throwing the door open. Her voice echoed down the driveway. She was clad in a Christmas jumper that your mum had made for you, your brother, and your sister a few years back. Mum always insisted that you wear it for at least one day when you visited. As per her request, it was folded neatly at the bottom of your luggage.

“It’s too late,” you whispered to yourself. “If we regret this, it’s not my fault.”

“We’ll be okay,” Brian put an arm around you and you leaned lazily into the hug.

“Y/n! My baby!” That was mum. Although your mum was loud at times, you loved her a lot. Your mother hustled from the front door clad in a loudly patterned apron, which itself was covered in flour and sugar. 

“This doesn’t seem too bad,” he mused to you.

You looked at him from the side of your eyes. “Oh, just you wait.”

You took Brian’s hand and moved to meet them in the middle. Your sister practically jumped on you and knocked you over when she gave you a hug; the two of you tumbled as you hit the ground in a burst of laughter. Brian and your mother both rushed to help the two of you up.

“Hey, Brian,” Donna gave him a friendly hug. “So did she drive you crazy on the way here?”

“Absolutely bonkers.” He teased. You scoffed and bumped him with your shoulder.

“Hi, mum.” You moved to embrace your mother and she pulled you into a bone crushing hug. She held you at arms length. 

“I missed you so much.” She gushed. Her fingers moved to hold your face. You couldn’t help your smile. 

“It’s only been like a month and a half.” You laughed at her emotions.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t miss my daughter!” Your mother exclaimed. “Of course your father misses you too! I tried to get him to take work off today to come greet you two but you know him!” Unfortunately, you did. She rubbed your arms soothingly, turning her attention to Brian. “Now... introduce me to this strapping young man!”

You rolled your eyes but, deep down, it was your stomach that was really rolling. “Mum, this is Brian, my boyfriend.” That word still felt weird.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Brian,” she said as he extended his hand for her to shake. Your mother brushed his hand aside and pulled him into a tight sweet hug. Brian took it with a chuckle. “You don’t need to be formal with me. If you’re good enough for Y/n, you’re more than good enough for me.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Y/l/n,” he replied politely. Brian put an arm around your shoulders for emphasis. You wrapped your arms around his waist.

“Please, call me ‘Y/m/n.’” She froze all of a sudden. “Wait a second… is this the Brian from university?!” Your mum turned to you.

“Yes,” you smiled at your mom, “that’s where we met.”

“Oh my heavens! I remember you talking about Brian!” Your mother excitedly recalled. Uh-oh… 

You laughed nervously and feigned forgetfulness. “What? I don’t think I remember-”

“I do!” She insisted. “You were her best friend.”

“I’d like to think I still am,” Brian replied. “I’m honestly surprised she didn’t run for the hills the moment I opened my mouth.”

Your mother chuckled, “Nonsense! I can see why she said you were so charming. And I remember one time she called me and said that she thought she fancied-”

“OKAY MUM!” Donna cut her off. Brian gave you and her a confused look. Thank God for Donna… “Don’t we have something in the oven?”

“Oh, good heavens! You’re right! Donna will show you to your room.” She turned and ran back inside. “JAMES!” She screeched. “HELP YOUR SISTERS AND BRIAN WITH THE LUGGAGE!”

There was grumbling from inside the house and you steeled yourself for the arrival of your brother. You turned to face Brian quickly as the two of you went back to the car to grab your bags. “I apologize in advance for anything that he says.”

“I can handle it.” He assured you. “I’ve already heard snippets of his typical vocabulary. I’ll be okay.”

As if on cue your brother materialized in the doorway looking classy as ever in an old pair of denim trousers and a stained t-shirt. He tiredly hobbled over, giving Brian a strange look as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“You must be Brian,” James grumbled out. He looked him up and down suspiciously. “I see my sisters weren’t lying about you.”

“I am very much real. Were you expecting a bloke that looked like me? Perhaps less poodle-ish,” Brian called out, trying to lighten the mood up a little bit as he pulled another suitcase from the trunk.

Your brother hummed, unsatisfied, and finally looked at you. “You brought him.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t lying,” you said, cocking your head up proudly.

James hummed again, eyeing your, unbeknownst to him, fake boyfriend. Brian leaned against the car, having unloaded the last of the luggage, nodding a greeting at your brother.

“We’re definitely dating,” you urged. You stood next to Brian and he kissed the side of your head, while you stared down James.

James hummed a third time, oddly quiet. He glanced between you and Brian as if trying to see through the ruse. You were getting nervous.

“Yeah,” your brother stared right through you, “we’ll see about that.”

You, Brian, and Donna fidgeted nervously, not quite sure how to respond to what he said.

You cleared your throat and attempted to diffuse the tension. “Is this any way to greet your sister?”

He gave you a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes and a half-assed hug. Ah, yes, the depth of your brother’s affection… 

Brian and James went to work grabbing the luggage wordlessly. You grabbed one of your bags and walked arm-in-arm with Donna. The two of you shared a look as you went inside and up the stairs.

“Here you go, lovebirds.” James half-tossed the luggage into his old room. 

So this was where your mum had placed the two of you… It was the quietest and most isolated room in the house. Sitting above the garage, in the corner of the second floor, it was hard to disturb anyone with noise especially since the other two rooms on the floor were a decent distance away.

You wouldn’t have minded the space so much if the bed wasn’t a full-size and Bri wasn’t such a tall man.

“Are…” you started, “we sharing?” You hadn’t prepared for this. You couldn't even look at Brian. 

You hadn’t counted on this being a part of the deal. And, of course, neither had Brian. God… you should have asked! At the very least to prepare yourself… To prepare Brian. You felt a pit forming in your belly. 

“Yep,” he responded. “Mum figured the two of you would want to stay in the same area during your stay.”

“She and dad were okay with that?”

James leaned against the doorway. Donna stood behind him sheepishly. She had left that part out conveniently during the phone calls. “Mum was insistent. Dad put up more of a fight. They agreed though eventually.”

You looked at him with your mouth ajar, much like a fish. “Oh.”

“Is that going to be an issue?” James looked you and your fake boyfriend in the eye, a challenge.

Brian jumped to action. “Not at all. Thank you, James.”

He gave a tight-lipped smile and walked away with his arms crossed. You waited to hear his footsteps go down the creaky stairs before tearing into Donna.

She lowered her voice with her arms outstretched in front of her. “Before you yell at me, I didn’t know how to tell you. There are ears everywhere.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “You couldn't have mentioned that? Like at all?”

“I’m sorry!” She whisper-yelled. “What would you have wanted me to do? Say that the two of you shouldn’t share a room? It’ll be easier to communicate with the both of you in the same space. Could you imagine being separate for a week while you try to pull this off?”

You supposed she was right. “No, no. You’re right.” You took a deep breath and changed your tone of voice so the rest of the house could hear you. “Thank you, Donna. I think we’re going to nap.”

She matched your tone. “Of course! I’ll let the two of you get settled in!” You mouthed a ‘thank you’ at her before she closed the door behind her and skipped away.

And then there were two.

“You’ve been awfully quiet, Br- What are you doing?”

Brian was setting up his luggage next to the loveseat in the room and had found the spare blankets from the closet. He was making a bed on the couch. If he thought he was taking the couch, you’d be damned.

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

“It looks like you’re making my bed, how kind of you! But really I’m the host so I must insist that you leave your accommodations to me, Mr. May.” You grabbed the spare pillow out of his hand and kicked his bag toward the bed. You began lugging your bag close to the couch. Brian stuck his foot out and stopped the bag.

“‘Your’ bed? I’m taking the couch.” He gently grabbed your bag and chucked it onto the bed. Your jaw dropped.

“No, Brian. I’m taking the couch. You’re too tall for it.” It was true. You could fit the couch much more comfortably than he could.

“Ah, but you see, as your boyfriend,” you rolled your eyes goodnaturedly, “I must be chivalrous and relinquish the bed to my beloved.”

“You’re being an ungrateful guest,” you countered.

He winced. “Low blow.”

“I’m not above it.” Brian snatched the pillow back and began rubbing his hair on it. “What on earth are you doing?”

“Staking my claim,” he answered, matter-of-factly. His hair was a static-y mess. As if to prove his point he tossed his body haphazardly onto the couch and sprawled out, limbs and all. “This is mine.”

“You act like you laying on top of something is going to deter me in any way.” You laughed at his logic. “Being on the couch does not mean it is suddenly uninhabitable.”

“It does.” He pointedly stretched his limbs out more. “Watch me.”

“This argument is going nowhere.”

“I agree. Which is why you should just let me take the couch.”

“What if we-”

A knock on the door sounded. Brian shot up and the two of you tossed the blankets and pillow haphazardly on the bed. You answered the door with Brian hovered closely behind you.

James. He had a smirk on his face. How much of the conversation had he heard?

“Yes?” you asked through gritted teeth.

“I don’t know if I mentioned it or not but I thought I’d be thorough and tell you that this room gets rather cold in the winters. The garage isn’t insulated and neither are the walls that this room shares with it.”

“Oh, really?”

“I mean, you’re already sharing a bed so that’ll help but you might want to grab some extra blankets on top of that. Perhaps a second bed’s worth.” He peeked in to see the mound of blankets on the bed. “But it looks like the two of you have already figured that out.”

You chuckled dryly. “Yep. Thanks for the pointer.”

James hummed a laugh. “Anytime.” And like the asshole he was he sauntered away humming a Bob Dylan song. You pushed the door closed and rested your forehead on it.

“We could switch nights?” You offered. Brian knew you better than that; of all the sensations that you hated (fatigue, hunger, headache, etc.) being cold was what you loathed the most.

“Or we could just share the bed like they suspect us to…” He suggested. You looked at him. He didn’t seem to be pulling your leg.

“You wouldn’t be uncomfortable with that?” Your fingers picked at the ends of your hair.

Brian had his hands on his hips. “Not at all. Unless you would be.”

You looked him in the eye and then to the floor, your arms crossed. “I’m fine with it.”

“I guess we’ll share it then,” he affirmed.

“Yep.” You popped the ‘p.’

The two of you looked at the surrounding room and its four walls. The couch. The bed. The windows. Anywhere but each other. This was real. All the time you had pretended to be dating before you got to your parents house suddenly felt like dress rehearsals. This. This was real. And things were different.

This was showtime.

“Well, then,” Brian filled the silence. “Now that it’s settled why don’t we set up the room? We did tell them we were taking a nap. We can get settled a little bit.” 

You nodded.

“I’ll do the bed if you do the closet?”

You nodded wordlessly again and took a deep breath before kicking off your shoes and opening the closet. You heard Brian take off his coat and toss it onto the couch. You set yours on top of his and reminded yourself to put in the coat closet downstairs by the front door.

As promised you began hanging some of your items and with Brian’s permission began helping him with his. The bathroom that was conjoined to the room soon had your various shampoo, tooth brushes, and regular hair brushes strewn across the counter top and among the shelves in the shower.

Amongst the thoughts of how absolutely spoiled rotten James had been up here while you and your sister had to share a smaller room was another more alarming notion. As you put yours and Brian’s shoes down on the floor of the closet and split the drawers between the two of you your mind drifted to the small part of it that realized how naturally it looked, how naturally it felt to have the items in the same space. To have Brian’s giant shoes next to yours. To have his various hair brushes that resembled Medieval torture devices right next to your own weapons of choice. To dance and bustle about a small space in a rhythm so natural that an onlooker would swear it was rehearsed.

“You’ve been awfully pensive,” Brian snapped you out of your stupor as you pulled a dress of yours onto a hangar and set it on your side of the closet trying to move in such a way that maybe you’d forget your hands were shaking and maybe Brian wouldn’t notice your hands shaking. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“I…” you took a breath. You didn’t really know what to say. Instead you just turned and let yourself fall onto the couch back first and stared up at the blank ceiling. “This is really happening.”

“Hey.” Brian appeared into view as we walked to you and looked down. “Are you alright?”

You finally made eye contact with Brian and shook your head. Trying to will your tears back into your ducts with the help of good old-fashioned gravity you stared back up at the ceiling again.

Brian rushed to crouch at your side. “Woah, woah, woah. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

You turned to face him and sat up so that he could sit next to you on the couch. “No, it wasn’t you. I’m just overwhelmed. I still can’t believe I’m in this mess. That my family sees so much of my value in my relationships and not me. That it went this far. That I actually care so much about what they think even though I shouldn’t. That I dragged you into this.”

Brian hummed in understanding and pulled you into a hug. “Well, first of all, you didn’t drag me into this. I body slammed myself into this. You didn’t even really need to ask me to help you; if anything I dragged you into this. Remember our little moment on the driveway?”

Yes… How infuriatingly encouraging he had been. How embarrassingly frantic you had behaved. He was right. Brian was unfailingly loyal to you. If he hadn’t backed down then, when you had offered him a way out.

“You know you’re earning your ‘poodle’ title more and more,” you commented.

Brian cocked his head. “How so?”

“Lanky, tall, high-maintenance-”

“Feeling the love. Thank you.”

“But still an excellent companion and unbelievably sweet.”

Brian gave you a soft smile and rubbed his arm up and down your back. “If I was a humbler person I might tell you to stop.”

“Oh I’m stopping,” you said, sniffling back your tears and exhaling the panic. “If your head gets any more full of hot air, your hair is going to start defying the laws of physics without any assistance.”

“Yeah, you’re feeling better,” Brian quipped, feigning offense.

“I’m sorry… which one of us brought more brushes and styling products?”

“I want to make a good first impression! I may be a fake boyfriend but I still want your family to like me.” He defended.

“You’ll be great! Aside from James, you’d have to do something really out of character to get them to not like you.”

“Not this ‘be yourself’ stuff again,” Brian complained and threw his head back to rest on the back of the couch.

“It’s true. They’ll love you!” You encouraged him.

Brian’s face took on that infamous cheeky expression. Uh-oh… “Is it because I’m… so charming?”

Your face flushed in remembrance of what your mother had almost let slip. You leaned forward and covered your face with your hand. “Why did I know you were going to bring that up?”

“Because you know me better than anyone else.” He replied, matter-of-factly. 

“I think your mum might contend with me on that, Bri,” you offered.

“And I knew you were going to say that.” Brian shrugged in consideration. “Fine. You and my mum know me better than anyone else.”

“Well,” you set your hand on his knee. A once platonic gesture, it felt different this time. You continued, hurrying your way through what you were going to say so that it wouldn’t be as awkward when you stopped touching, “since we know each other so well, I’d say we stock up on rest while we can.”

“You talk like we’re going to be running a marathon for the next week.”

“Trust me, Bri,” you responded, standing up and laying down comfortably on the bed. “You’re gonna need it.”

Brian looked at you in disbelief. “Oh please. I’ve dealt with concerts for years. How bad can it be?!”

TAGS: @andtheswordwentsnickersnack​ @phantoms-lynn​

[lady-divine-writes]

Klaine Advent Drabble 2020 - “Wanky” (NC17)

Summary: An unfortunate find in a secret drawer leads poor Tracy to believe that she's getting a dog for Christmas, and leaves Kurt stuck between a rock and a hard place: does he stick to his guns, or does he traumatize his sweet, innocent daughter for life? (1918 words)

Notes: Written for the @klaineadvent Drabble Challenge 2020 prompt 'learn'.

Read on AO3.

“Hey, guys!" Kurt sings from the front door, brushing snow off the shoulders of his coat before he crosses the threshold. "We’re back!”

"Sorry we took so long," Blaine says, "but we had a heck of a time finding ..."

“Thank you thank you thank you thank you!” Tracy squeals, leaping into Blaine’s arms the second he comes to a stop in their living room. "Both of you! Thank you so much!"

“Thank us?” He wraps his daughter in a bear hug, confused as all get out but in no way stupid enough to turn down a hug. “Thank us for what? Kurt?” 

Kurt shrugs, making a don’t know noise as he sheds his coat and hangs it, returning quickly for a turn in the hug rotation. "Brittany? Santana?" He looks expectantly at the ladies who have been watching their daughter all afternoon. "Do you know what's going on?"

Brittany, hands behind her back, shifts her weight anxiously from foot to foot, while Santana, arms crossed over her chest, looks nearly gleeful. It’s Santana's glee more than Brittany’s anxiety that makes Kurt’s back start to sweat. 

“It seems Tracy here was poking around in your naughty bits and found herself a little treat.”

Kurt and Blaine shoot her confused looks, though Kurt’s leans more towards annoyed.

“Can you be any less vague?” Kurt asks.

Santana grins. “No.”

Brittany carefully enters the conversation. “Tracy may have accidentally figured out what you guys are getting her for Christmas.”

"And what are we getting her for Christmas?" Blaine asks.

Brittany swallows hard. "A ... a dog."

Tracy dislodges herself from Blaine's torso and latches on to Kurt’s.

"What?" Kurt says, dumbfounded.

“Didn’t we specifically say no to a dog?” Blaine whispers. 

Kurt hugs his daughter tight, stealthily covering her ears with his hand. “We did."

"So how did she come to that conclusion?” 

“She found this.” A guilty smile flickers across Brittany’s lips as she brings a hand out from behind her back and shows Kurt something that makes his face turn paper white. He doesn't have to look at his husband to know that Blaine is wearing the same dropped-jaw, mushroom pale expression of horror that he is.

Brittany is handing him a black leather collar with a row of rhinestones across the front.

When Kurt comes to his senses, he reaches for the collar, eager to tuck it out of sight. 

Mortifyingly, Tracy intercepts it. 

She eyes it reverently. But then she sighs, her expression slipping from overjoyed smile to apologetic frown. 

“I’m sorry I snooped in your special drawer.”

“Didn’t we make it perfectly clear that drawer is off-limits?” Blaine asks, crouching to talk to her.

“You did.” Tracy hugs the collar to her chest, afraid the dog she has wanted for so long might be slipping away from her.

“Then why did you look in there?”

“It seems a little birdie told her it’s only off-limits because that's where you hide her presents,” Santana explains, maneuvering her shrinking wife behind the protection of her body. “Poor, impatient Tracy couldn’t resist.”

Kurt glares over Santana’s shoulder at Brittany, who completely disappears behind her wife. 

Blaine stands, ruffles his daughter’s hair, then takes his husband by the elbow and gives him a tug in the direction of the kitchen. “Excuse us, Peanut. I need to talk to your Papa alone for a minute.”

“Ok, Daddy.” Tracy releases Kurt and walks glumly towards Santana, sighing significantly as she slips into her arms, still hugging that collar to her chest.

That’s the scene that kills Kurt.

Tracy hugging that collar.

The collar he wears on his and Blaine’s "special" nights out.

The kind where they pretend they don’t know one another, and they flirt in a bar like strangers. Blaine picks him up with a proposition, money exchanges hands, and they spend all night in a room at a no-tell motel with Blaine riding him, pulling his hair hard, calling him his "good little bitch".

Yup. His nine-year-old daughter is hugging that collar.

“Oh my God!” Blaine says the second they're behind closed doors, a hint of amusement in his tone that gives Kurt an urge to flick him on the forehead. “What do we do? What do we do?”

“I hope we’re agreed that she doesn’t deserve a thing if she’s invading our privacy!”

“Yeah … well … hmmm …” Blaine waffles. 

Kurt’s eyes go wide. “Blaine!”

“To be honest, Kurt, I don’t know what you have against the family having a dog. Tracy has wanted one forever. It would be a good companion for her. Besides …” He looks down at his hands, twiddles his thumbs “… I … kinda … want one.”

“That’s great!” Kurt snaps, frustrated since he thought they were a unified front on this issue. “But tell me this - who’s going to take care of it? Huh? Who's going to feed it and walk it and clean up after it when it vomits on the floor at three in the morning? I’ll tell you exactly who’s going to do all of that! I will!”

“We can teach her to be responsible! She’s at that age!”

“This isn’t the way things like this are supposed to work! If she wants a dog, she needs to earn it! Not commit a misdemeanor! That proves she’s not mature enough! And if we give in, we'll be perpetuating that behavior!”

“Technically, it’s not her fault. You heard what Santana said.”

“Yeah, well, that only proves someone else is culpable. It doesn’t change the fact that Tracy broke the rules. In fact, if she thought her Christmas presents were in that drawer, that makes things worse!”

“This one indiscretion aside, she deserves a dog! She’s a straight-A student. She keeps her room clean without being told. She helps out with dinner, the laundry, the dusting. And let’s face it, between your trophies, my trophies, and all the other knick-knacks in this house, she deserves a dog for that alone!”

“I am not going to make this decision on the spur of the moment! We need to talk about boundaries, hash out rules!”

“Fair enough."

“Which we will do after the holidays!”

“And what do we do until then?” Blaine asks, his eyes brimming with the same disappointment Tracy’s had. He'd started getting excited when he thought Kurt might cave. Now Kurt's pulling a "we'll see". “She already found the collar. How are you going to explain owning that if we aren’t getting her a dog for Christmas? Which is in about a week, by the way.”

“We’ll be honest with her,” Kurt decides. “We’ll explain, in age-appropriate terms, why we have that collar.”

Blaine jerks back, the fringes of a chuckle tickling his throat. “So … she’s mature enough to know about your collar kink, but not old enough to own a dog?”

“I’ll … cross that bridge when I get to it, all right?” Kurt mumbles, his face turning bright red. "But for now, that's my final decision! End of discussion! Take it or leave it!"

Kurt turns on his heel and heads for the living room. He will not be manipulated into giving in, even if this whole thing did start with a misunderstanding.

He opens the door and spots Tracy rocking in Blaine’s recliner, looking at pictures on Brittany’s phone, while Brittany and Santana sit beside her, making encouraging comments. 

Tracy, still hugging that Godforsaken collar, looks like she’s been crying. 

Brittany looks positively devastated, as if she didn’t just ruin Tracy’s chance for happiness, but helped her get the dog of her dreams, then ran it over with her car.

Santana leads the conversation, which Kurt assumes is about clothes - one of Tracy’s favorite things to window shop. But as Kurt walks closer, he catches a peek at the screen, and his heart deflates. During his and Blaine’s conversation, Tracy had started a Pinterest board titled ‘My Favorite Dogs in the World’. Brittany and Santana are helping her add to it – teacup poodles, Pomeranians, Chihuahuas, a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel ...

'That one's cute,' Kurt thinks when he spots the silky thing. 'That fur would be fun to style. We could do it together! A bright pink bow, maybe a sparkly barrette ...'

The sparkly barrette brings his mind back to his collar, and he gives himself a hard, mental shake.

'No. Don't waver. Stay the course.'

He approaches his daughter slowly, preparing himself for the worst conversation of his life so far. 

Kurt swallows hard. “Tracy?”

Tracy looks up at him with watery eyes. “Yes, Papa?”

Her bottom lip wobbles.

Ugh! This is going to be impossible!

“There’s something I need to explain to you … about that collar.”

“Yes?”

Kurt crouches down in front of Tracy, meeting her eye to eye. “You see, sometimes when you buy a collar, it’s for a dog.”

“A-ha …” Tracy says, hopeful ... and mildly confused.

“And sometimes, two people … two grown adults who don’t own a dog ... might buy a collar to …”

Brittany and Santana both gasp when they realize what he’s doing. 

Brittany stares like a deer in headlights.

Santana, on the verge of a laughing fit, gets up and leaves the room.

“Yes, Papa?”

“Well, they might buy a collar because …”

“Because …”

"Because ..." Kurt looks at Tracy, silently wishing she'd catch on without him having to say another word. Not catch on to what they use the collar for, but catch on to the fact that no, they will not be getting a dog right now. He looks into her huge, brown eyes, so much like Blaine’s, her hopeful expression dimming with every second of this asinine explanation. 

Is he really going to do this? 

Is he really going to tell his beloved daughter that she's not getting a dog because that collar she found is one of her fathers’ favorite sex toys? That the last time they used it, Kurt was wearing it, and Blaine was riding him like a bronco, growling obscenities and smacking his ass?

No! He can’t do that! 

What responsible parent would!?

When Kurt first found out he was going to be a father, his own father gave him some valuable life advice. 

“When you become a parent, you sort of fool yourself into believing that you’re in charge. You're the teacher," his dad had said. "But in reality, parenting will put you on your ass over and over until you realize you know nothing. But you learn. And one of the most important lessons you’ll ever learn is to pick your battles. Because situations will come up that you’ll never dream of, things that you hope to never handle. But, in the end, when you’re debating right and wrong, you have to decide – are you doing what’s best for your child? Or what’s best for you? Because, surprisingly, the two aren’t always the same.”

In short, Kurt has to choose between psychological trauma, pet dog, or sticking to a rule that's rigid simply because bending it would hurt his ego.

When he thinks of it in those terms, the answer is simple.

His father, as always, is right - mostly.

The most important lesson Kurt will learn from this particular situation is that he needs to get a lock on that damned drawer!

Because watching their new pet tromp through the house wearing that collar is going to burn his eyes every day of his life until he dies.

[mediocrity-at-best]

Thunder

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Masterlist

Warnings: referenced sex but nothing actually included

Pairings: Anxceit

Words: 1,526

Summary: Dee doesn’t like thunder, and his boyfriend does, in fact, know that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dee shivered, wrapping his arms around himself. It was freezing, not suitable weather for people to be walking around outside in at all. Sure, maybe it was only fifty degrees, but that was still far too cold for Dee to be wearing anything less than three layers or go outside his house unless it was an emergency.

This wasn’t an emergency, so he really should not have so much as opened his door for it, but now he’s walking down the street at ten o’clock at night like an unruly cat being forced on a leash for the first time in its life. He really, really hates that this is what he’s spending his day off doing, but he’s closer to Virgil’s apartment than his own by now, so there’s no point in turning back either way.

On the other hand, the outside did look pretty today. There was a bright pink flower in full bloom in the window box of a cafe he passed, and there was a beautiful chocolate poodle strutting down the sidewalk. The trees didn’t have any leaves left, but they still looked sort of ethereal against the stormy, pregnant gray of the sky.

It wasn’t raining yet, and if any god out there had any good sense, it wouldn’t start before Dee got inside. He was not ashamed to admit he was not above fighting a god or two.

Ten minutes later found Dee knocking on Virgil’s door. While he did have a key, if he was forced to walk all the way to Virgil’s house for something, then Virgil could very well walk all the way over to the door to let him in. It was only fair.

The door swung open just as a bolt of thunder cracked outside, causing Dee to jump. Virgil loomed, smirking, in the doorway. He didn’t bother with a greeting, just stepped back to let Dee bolt in and jerk his curtains shut.

“What the hell was such an emergency that I had to come over here in the middle of a goddamn storm!”

“Chill, it’s not the middle. It’s only just starting. Besides, you oughta be outta here before it gets too bad.” Virgil shrugged nonchalantly and crossed to the kitchen.

“Only just-be out of-no! I am absolutely not leaving until the rain quits!” Dee angrily chased Virgil to the kitchen, taking the steaming mug out of his hand before he could so much as bring it to his lips. “You owe me this.”

“Whatever,” Virgil snorted, picking up a second and equally steamy mug to drink from. Dee wanted smack that one out of his hands, just to be petty because Virgil had obviously planned for that to happen. Instead, Dee curled around his cup as best he could and took a sip. Slightly bitter hot chocolate. God, it wasn’t even the flavor that Virgil liked; it was Dee’s favorite.

“Why did you need me over here?” he sighed. Virgil motioned toward his couch.

“Go sit down. I’ll be right back.” Dee left the kitchen with a small shove from Virgil and threw himself down on the couch, his hot chocolate nearly flipping over the side of the mug. It’s not like Virgil would notice another stain on his couch, not after what had happened on it last time Dee was over.

Virgil came back into the room, throwing a screeching black ball onto Dee’s lap and actually causing his drink to spill.

“Thanks,” Dee hissed, juggling the now quiet ball and his mug.

“She wouldn’t quit screaming for the last two hours, but you always make her quiet down.” Virgil shrugged and flopped down beside Dee. “I think she can sense when it’s going to rain.”

“She’s your hell beast, why don’t you ever learn how to love her right?” Dee ran his hand over her head eliciting a deep, rumbling purr. She stretched languidly, claws digging past Dee’s pant legs and just barely scratching his skin before she curled back up and looked up at him with her big green eyes. Entirely too trusting and entirely too evil.

“She’s more your cat than mine, anyway,” Virgil said. He slung an arm up to the back of the couch but kept to his own end. Dee took a sip of his drink while Toothless stared right up at him, totally adoring in a way most people thought was reserved for dogs. It may have been less loud, but it was no less meaningful.

“That is because you don’t treat her right, isn’t that right, baby?” Dee asked, scratching her chin. Toothless tilted her head back to allow it, and Dee felt his lips pulling up against his will. It wasn’t his fault that cat was so damn perfect.

“Sure,” Virgil muttered into his cup, and Dee would have demanded to know what he meant by that except right then a huge bolt of lightning lit up the curtains and barely any time after that the thunder came roaring through. Dee was too dignified to say he screeched, but that’s certainly the sound the cat made before arching her back and hissing at the window.

“You really are the pair,” Virgil said, running his hand over Toothless and then Dee, and getting hit by them both for it. “Fuckin’ halloween cats.”

“Fuck off,” Dee grumbled, petting Toothless to calm them both down and trying to ignore that he had managed to pull his legs onto the couch and ball himself around his little cat. Virgil snorted again and began scrolling through his phone like he didn’t have a care in the world.

“Come here,” he said suddenly. Dee glanced at him, arms extended and beckoning, and shook his head. “Oh, get over here.” Virgil snatched Dee’s empty mug and dropped it toward the carpet. Then he used his unfair strength to pull Dee across the couch so that he was laying on top of Virgil. “Put these on,” Virgil said, shoving headphones at him.

“Why?” Dee said suspiciously.

“So that you can’t hear the thunder, jackass.”

“But what about our little cat?” objected Dee despite really wanting to pull the headphones on and pretend the outside world didn’t exist for a while.

“Ugh, fine,” Virgil said, dropping the headphones on the floor. A few seconds later and loud music was blaring out of Virgil’s speakers.

“You’re going to get a noise complaint from the neighbors,” Dee said. “Again.”

“Worthy cause. And it isn’t like I haven’t had to report them for three days straight of only blasting Taylor Swift and Seether.” Dee shuddered at even the thought of that. “I’m pretty sure they prefer this to the other kinds of noise we’ve made before, though.” Dee didn’t have much to say to that.

“What are you doing?” he asked when Virgil wrapped his arms around him.

“Could we cuddle, like, platonically?” Virgil said. He didn’t seem like he was going to let go, or like he was asking a question.

“What’s platonic about cuddling your boyfriend?” Dee demanded.

“Oh, so that’s what we are now?” Dee could hear the deadpan expression on his face.

“Well, I think we’re past fuck buddies.” Virgil snorted at that. They stayed quiet for a while, just enjoying the silence and the music and the little purring cat ball that made its home on top of them. Dee could get used to this. Comfort and cats and - and he didn’t want to jinx it, not yet, but something bigger than like. He really, really could one day get used to this sort of set up. Shitty apartment with a person he more than liked and their cat child. An ideal existence.

“You know, eventually you’re going to have to ask for your own sexless cuddles,” Virgil breathed into the back of Dee’s neck.

“Yeah, right,” Dee said.

“Eh, still better than last time. You told me to cuddle your dick. And while I would still be happy to do that, we both know that that is not the only kind of touching you like.” Dee grumbled wordlessly at Virgil. “Sex is an unhealthy coping mechanism, Dee. You should ask to cuddle with Logan without the sex. He’ll acquiesce, but he’s still awkward as fuck so you won’t feel like he knows what he’s doing and you don’t. Plus, he’ll also try to tell you every fact in the known universe because he doesn’t know what else to do. It’s pretty settling.”

“You say it like you know him or something,” Dee muttered.

“Nah, he’s only been my best friend since sixth grade. I don’t know shite about him.” Virgil pulled Dee a little more against him. “Night, cutie pie.”

“Night, sugar. I like you.”

“Like you more.”

“Like you most,” Dee said, sleepy smile tugging at his lips. Maybe it wasn’t quite the bigger word yet, but it was certainly getting there and one day, Dee would tell Virgil that he l-ed him. But until then, they’d like each other enough for the moon and the stars.

Virgil pressed a kiss against the back of Dee’s neck and Dee fell asleep without having to hear the thunder.

[okskz]

Flash.

Mia + Stray Kids.

mia and jisung are out and about when they fumble inside a pet shop only to leave with a new pet.

thanks anon for the request! I thought it was really cute. anyways, hope you guys enjoy this and send in some feedback because it is always appreciated! requests are still OPEN!

[10th Member of Stray Kids]

“Thanks for the food, Mia.” Jisung said as the two walked out of the restaurant.

Mia pulled her jacket closer once feeling a cold breeze pass by the two of them. She even got closer to Jisung to keep warm. “You’re welcome. It was nice being out the dorms.”

“Oh I know, especially with all these tight schedules we have. It was nice having some time to ourselves.”

Mia nodded her head as the two walked down the sidewalk.

“Is your ankle okay now?” Jisung asked.

“Uh, yeah. I mean, I get some pain eventually but overall I can finally put some pressure on it and don’t need to use those annoying crutches.”

Jisung let out a laugh. “You really did struggle with those.”

“I know.” Mia groaned.

The both of them continued to walk, that was until they were approaching a pet store that made Mia stop walking. “Lets go in here.” She said, pulling on Jisung’s arm.

“Why?” He asked but still let her drag him in.

“Just because.” Mia shrugged. “I wanna see the animals.”

The two entered the store, looking around and already seeing a whole bunch of animals in view. The first thing that caught Mia’s eyes were some puppies who were playing around in a circle crate.

“Jisung, look!” Mia exclaimed. “They’re so cute.”

Mia went ahead and picked one up. By the looks of it, the puppy was a poodle. She held it close as Jisung began to pet it. “It’s so fluffy.” Jisung chuckled.

“Puppies are great and all but with us being idols I don’t think it would be an easy task to take care of.”

“Yeah.” Jisung replied, still petting the puppy. “It is a big responsibility.”

“You’re right.” Mia sighed. “But I really want a pet.” She placed the puppy back into the crate with the rest of the puppies and began to walk around to look at the other animals.

There was one section in the pet store that caught her eye and she quickly made her way towards it, Jisung following her right after.

“What about a guinea pig?” Mia smiled, looking at them through their window.

“Wait, Mia. Are you really considering on getting a pet?”

“Yes.” She nodded. “Like I said, I really want a pet and I think a guinea pig would be nice.”

“They are pretty cute too.” Jisung said as he looked at the small animals in awe.

Mia walked down the aisle, looking at every single guinea pig. If she was going to get one, she wanted to pick the right one. She stopped herself as she saw one guinea pig that caught her eye.

“Jisungie!” She gasped. “This one! We’re getting this one!”

Jisung rushed over to where Mia was, seeing the guinea pig she was looking. It was a super fluffy one that was brown and white. And on the top of it’s head, it’s white spot looked almost like a lightning strike.

“Well then let’s get him.”

***

The two members walked out the pet store a few minutes after. Jisung holding their new pet’s cage plus a couple of necessities they needed for their guinea pig. While Mia was happily holding the box that had their new friend.

“You don’t think Chan’s gonna get like, mad?” Jisung asked with concern.

Mia snorted. “Nonsense, plus if he’s against it then we’ll just convince him.”

They were getting closer to the building, Mia getting anxious to finally arrive home so she can set up everything for their new pet. Mia had agreed with Jisung that it wasn’t just going to be her pet but Jisung’s as well, so they were going to put his cage in the living room.

When they opened the door to their dorms, Mia had quickly noticed Chan in the living room. She looked back at Jisung, placing her finger on her lips. He got the signal and Mia gave him her box after he set the cage down and walked to the kitchen with the guinea pig.

“I’ll talk to him.” Mia whispered, giggling.

She walked in the living room, sitting closely to Chan where he was sitting at the couch. “Hi, Channie.”

He smiled, wrapping an arm around her to bring her closer as he leaned back on the couch. “What’s up?” He asked, continuing to watch tv.

Mia bit her lip as she rest a hand on his chest. She looked up at him at the same time he looked down at her. “Do you know I love you so much?”

Chan’s face dropped, taking his arm off of Mia then sat up straight on the couch. “What did you do? Or better yet, what do you want?”

“Can’t I tell my most favorite leader how much I love him?” Mia placed her hands on her hips as she furrowed her eyebrows.

From afar she could see Jisung looking at the two, laughing at what was happening.

“Unless you want something.”

“Ok well-“

“See.”

Mia let out a laugh, playfully slapping Chan’s chest. “So Jisung and I may or may not have gotten something today.” She said slowly.

Chan looked over at the kitchen staring at Jisung. The younger boy smiled at Chan. “Just so you know if you get mad at this it was all Mia’s idea and I had nothing to do with this.”

“Wow, thanks bro.” Mia rolled her eyes.

Chan payed his attention back at Mia. “Well what is it?”

“We got a new pet.” Mia gave Chan a cheesing smile.

“A pet?” He repeated. Mia nodded her head. “Don’t you think that’s a big responsibility?”

“I mean yeah.” Mia said. “But you have a pet and Hyunjin does too, and also Minho.”

“Ok but do you see those pets running around here?”

Mia bit her lip, looking around the dorms. She stared back at Chan, shaking her head no.

“But I promise you! We’ll take good care of it.” Mia got up from the couch and walked over to where Jisung was. She took their guinea pig from out the box and held him carefully in her hands. Before she went back to Chan she slightly hid him in her jacket.

“What type of pet is it anyways?” Chan stood up, getting closer to Mia as she walked back to him.

Mia rose up the guinea pig in her hands for Chan to finally see.

“We got a guinea pig!” She exclaimed. “Isn’t he so cute? His name is Flash.”

Chan’s eyes went wide. “Oh my god.” He gently grabbed him from Mia, bringing him close to his chest. “Out of all pets why this one?”

Mia shrugged her shoulders. “We were thinking a puppy first but that might of been hard to have around here so I thought maybe a guinea pig could be easier.”

Jisung came up and stood next to Mia. “So can we keep him?” He asked.

“I don’t think I have an option to say no. You guys already went ahead and got him.” Chan snorted.

“But I wouldn’t mind having this little guy around.” He said, petting Flash some more. “Cute.”

“Woo, that’s great! Now can I have him back?” Mia tried to grab Flash back but Chan turned the other way.

“No I wanna continue holding him.”

“Hey that’s our pet!” Jisung shouted, trying to grab Flash as well.

Chan blocked them, still having a hold of Flash as all of them began to laugh.

Soon after Minho walked into the living room, wanting to see what was going on. All three members stared at him and the first thing Minho noticed was the little animal Chan was holding.

“Oh my god, a rat!”

[camillemontespan]

baby [olivia x leo] one shot

Warnings: Only bad language.

@ibldw-main​ @pug-bitch​ @moonlightgem7​ @loveellamae​ @mskaneko​ @jovialyouthmusic​ @sirbeepsalot​ @dcbbw​ @katedrakeohd​ @gardeningourmet​ @emichelle​ @rainbowsinthestorm​  @notoriouscs​ @argylemnwrites​

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

After a long, long, long day of meetings, brainstorming, video conferences and presentations, Olivia was finally finished for the weekend. As she packed up her bag, she was already planning her evening - long soak in the bathtub, order take out and binge watch an episode of the latest murder documentary she had discovered. 

Perfect. Evening.

‘See you on Monday, bitch,’ Olivia said to Camille who was sitting at the desk across from her. Camille raised a hand to her, unable to answer as she was on the phone to her husband, Drake, trying to sort out a babysitter for the weekend after Penelope pulled out at the last minute due to a poodle emergency. 

Slinging her handbag over her arm, Olivia strutted through the office, ignoring the admin assistants who called out goodbye to her. She could see freedom through the office doors and she wasn’t stopping for anyone.

She exited outside to the car park, breathing in the fresh air and wondered if it was okay to have a quick cigarette. After deliberating, she took out a cigarette and lit it up, inhaling as she walked to her car. 

She let out the smoke and stopped dead.

‘Oh fuck no.’

The black car was parked next to hers again. 

It had been like this all week. Olivia would get to work early and park up; when she finished, this black convertible would be parked beside hers, so horrifically close, that it meant Olivia couldn’t get in through her driver door. Twice she had clambered in from the passenger seat. It was degrading and a major inconvenience. 

Olivia threw her cigarette to the floor and stomped towards the convertible.

‘I have fucking had it..’ she ground out.

Opening her bag, she brought out her car key and with all the malice she could muster, she dragged the key along the door of the car. It made a pleasing screaming sound as it cut across the paintwork. Music to Olivia’s ears.

She was in the middle of keying an insult into the passenger door when she heard a yell.

‘Hey! What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!’

She turned to see a blonde man running towards her with a face like thunder. Crossing her arms, she leaned against the convertible, covering the letters ‘D I C K H’ with her ass. 

‘Nothing,’ she said innocently.

The man didn’t believe her, she knew that. He was staring at her as if he could throttle her, which she would love to see him try. He wouldn’t get very far. Olivia went to boxing classes on Sundays and had a black belt in karate. Olivia was a fucking bad ass. 

‘You’re fucking keying my car!’ he shouted, pointing to the long scar Olivia’s key had inflicted. 

‘Maybe if you learned to park properly in the first place, nobody would key your fucking piece of metal crap!’ Olivia yelled back, stepping towards him. 

His eyes flicked to the word she had been in the middle of engraving into the passenger door. Pushing past Olivia, he rushed to the door with his mouth hanging open.

‘Ohhh baby, what did she do to you?’ he croaked. ‘Oh god..’

‘You call your car baby?’ Olivia asked in disgust. ‘Jesus, you need to get laid.’

He whipped around to face her. He had gone bright red with fury. ‘You are fucking insane,’ he told her. ‘Who the fuck does this?!’

‘I do!’ Olivia protested. ‘I’m not gonna apologise by the way because you deserve it! Instead of buying shitty cars, invest in some driving lessons and learn how to parallel park into a fucking space! My grandmother could park better than you, for God’s sake!’

The man pressed his fingers on either side of his nose, clearly exasperated. ‘You’re paying for the damage,’ he said matter of factly. 

‘I think I made the car look better to be honest,’ Olivia replied, also matter of factly.

‘Do you realise how much she cost me?!’ he cried. ‘A lot!’

Olivia examined her fingernail, non-plussed. ‘Well, there’s no accounting for taste..’ she muttered.

‘Fucking pay me for the damage!’ he shouted, pointing at his car. 

Olivia sighed. ‘Fine. What’s your name? I’ll sort out paying you but it may take 3-5 working days..’

‘Oh for God’s sake,’ he muttered impatiently. ‘Fucking smart ass.’

Olivia’s nose flared in indignation. ‘How dare you-’

‘Says the crazy woman who keyed my car!’

Olivia closed her eyes. Time was running out to get home, take a bath, order take out and binge watch that murder documentary. She needed to sort this out so he would get off her back so she could go home. 

‘What’s your name?’ she asked.

‘Leo,’ he said.

‘Okay. Leo. I’m Olivia-’

‘Don’t care, I just want you to pay for the damage.’

Olivia stared at him. Without a word, she turned on her heel and strutted to her own car and opened the passenger door. Flinging the door open, she started to clamber inside, showing Leo how difficult it was to get into the vehicle, thanks to his poor parking.

Leo watched her, his face becoming a picture of embarrassment as he realised just how awkward he had made her life by his shitty parking. He watched her struggle to climb over the stick and felt a wave of shame come over him. His eyes flicked to her pert ass in her tight red leather trousers and he felt a wave of lust come over him too, but he wouldn’t pay attention to that. Not right now anyway. Instead, he focused on feeling guilty as he watched this woman try to get to her driving seat.

‘Look, I’m sorry for parking badly-’

‘It’s fine,’ she said bluntly. ‘I’ll pay you for the damage and you can continue parking like an asshole.’ 

‘I’ll stop doing it,’ he said. ‘Look, what do you work as in the office? Which department? I can email you my details and we can sort this out nicely. I’ll stop parking like a dickhead and you can stop keying innocent people’s cars. Alright?’

Olivia clenched the steering wheel. ‘Alright,’ she said. ‘I work in marketing. olivia.nevrakis@cordoniaenterprises.net. What do you do there?’

Leo chuckled and ran a hand awkwardly through his hair. ‘I, uh..I have a freelance role. But my dad works there full time.’

‘Oh, how nice for you,’ Olivia said dryly. 

‘He’s the boss.’

Olivia swallowed and slowly turned to look at Leo, who was looking sheepish. 

‘You’re Constantine’s son?’ she croaked.

‘Guilty as charged,’ Leo said. 

Olivia rested her forehead against the steering wheel, wishing she could just burst into flames right there. Could this get any worse? Of course he was the boss’ son. He reeked of entitlement.

‘Email me your details,’ she said, slowly looking up at him. ‘Learn how to park.’

Leo smirked. ‘Learn how to key somebody’s car discreetly.’

‘Learn that it’s cringey to call a car “baby”.’

Leo crossed his arms and gave her a lazy smile. ‘Learn how to climb into a car without showing off your ass to the boss’ son.’

Olivia raised an eyebrow. ‘Learn how to stop perving on women, dickhead.’

As Leo tried to think of a comeback, she turned the ignition and reversed out of her space, as smooth as can be, before flipping him her middle finger. She revved the engine and sped out of the car park, leaving Leo in the dust.

‘What a woman..’ he murmured, shaking his head. He had a smile on his face as he opened his car door. Settling into the seat, he turned the key and sighed. 

‘I’m sorry for what she did to you, baby,’ he said out loud. ‘We’ll get ya fixed up.’

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

On Monday morning, Olivia logged into her work emails and scanned the contents. Minutes from Friday’s meeting, an email from Camille asking if she wanted to go for drinks on Wednesday after work, an email from Kiara who had sent a message to the whole office passive aggressively asking if someone could please stop drinking her soya milk and if they could just come forward, there would be no drama..

An email from Leo. 

‘Hey trouble.

Hope you had a good weekend full of keying people’s cars for sport. 

Forget paying me back - I can do it myself. But we’re not even yet. Instead of parting with your hard earned money, how about you join me for a drink instead? This Friday night. You can buy me a beer and teach me how to stop perving on women. Sound good?

Leo (the boss’ son)’

Olivia groaned and rested her forehead on the desk. She didn’t owe him anything but she also kind of did. She did try to engrave a rude insult into his car. She had insulted the boss’ son. And he wasn’t holding payment over her head which was a relief. But he was such a skeeze..

Hot though.

She wondered if he liked knife play in the bedroom.. 

Stop it.

Olivia considered her options, getting back to the situation at hand. If she said no, he might ask her to pay for the damage instead and she didn’t want that. She wasn’t paying to fix that piece of shit.

She composed an email back.

‘Hi. 

Fine, sounds good. 

Olivia.’

Was that too blunt? Too dry? God, Olivia hated email politics. She preferred to be straight to the point, which often terrified the admin staff who had to email her sometimes. Sighing, she added a P.S.

P.S: I only key your car. It certainly improves its appearance.’ 

She sent the email and sat back to drink her coffee. Her inbox pinged with a new message instantly.

‘Baby disagrees.

Leo (the boss’ son).’

Olivia rolled her eyes, unable to stop the smile forming on her lips. She felt like Friday was going to be.. Eventful. She should key cars more often.

[angellesword]

Silver Dust

Summary: Yoongi proposed to you and you're contemplating whether to say yes or no.

Pairing: Songwriter Yoongi x Gender Neutral Reader

Genre: Fluff, fluff, and fluff.

Word count: 6.7k

Warnings/ author's note: I wrote like a whole ass song using Cypher pt.4 beat lmaooo, kissing, minor smut, mention of rape, abuse, killings, and corruption.

<<< The first meeting >>>

The first time you met Yoongi's eyes wasn't really that special.

There was no sign of your heart skipping a single beat, if there was, you're 100% sure he's not the reason behind it because 1) you pretty much believed it's just the effect of drinking three shots of espresso in one sitting. 2) You were damn nervous since your prelim grades were already out.

You didn't even feel any butterfly in your stomach, nor did your world light up—and this, to be honest, was understandable, especially when Yoongi's eyes were dead as fuck. You figured that if it wasn't for your shared seven am class, he would probably still be lying in bed.

"The professor said you're my partner for this project." Even the first time you heard his voice wasn't special.

If there's one thing that made Yoongi Yoongi, it's his monotonous voice. At first, you thought he just didn't like the idea that you two were stuck together to work on a project. (Again, it's understandable) You also found it ridiculous that your professor actually paired you with a stranger.

Well, it's not like you knew Yoongi. Unless knowing his full name counted. But really, it's inevitable since the two of you went to the same classes since freshman year (you're a senior now) apart from that, almost all your professors never failed to voice out their adoration for him.

You first heard his name when your history instructor made it very clear that Min Yoongi's works would be his "standard" when it came to grading your individual projects. In short, if Yoongi got an A, you and your classmates should also either get an A or an A+ or else, you're considered 'failed.'

It’s kind of fucked up, really. Most of you knew that Min Yoongi was a monster when it came to collecting As. Unfair. All he did during class lectures was sleep and yet, he still managed to be number one.

Huh. It must be awesome to be God's favorite.

There was also this one time when one of your professors, Mr. Bang, cried when he asked Yoongi to read his essay in front. The smart boy was reluctant at first. He despised exposure, that's for sure. However, the professor's so persistent that Yoongi obliged just to make the annoying instructor shut up.

You're actually glad Mr. Bang managed to persuade Yoongi. His speech about finding yourself and being happy made Mr. Bang and almost everyone in your class cry. Yoongi transformed into a completely different person the moment he started his speech. Monotonous Voice? Gone.

You figured that yes, your heart didn't skip a beat when you first caught his eyes, but boy did your heart hurt when those simple words leaving his mouth turned into a piece of art.

<<< Your one brain cell >>>>

The second time you met Yoongi's eyes was in front of his house. The two of you decided to work on your project at the school's library, however the place was loaded with students cramming their paper works and you just couldn't bear to hear another person aggressively typing on their laptop anymore. You were sick of it.

"Uh, hi?" you awkwardly smiled at the blond man in front of you.

You weren't quite sure how to react when he was just staring at you blankly. Yoongi's lips were pursed together and that alone made you uncomfortable.

"We were supposed to meet at the library..." He raised his brow as if he wanted to know how the hell did you know where he lives? And were you a fucking stalker?

"I..." You instantly trailed off when he narrowed his brow more. Man, he sure was intimidating. The lack of spark in his eyes made you wince. The man in front of you had thick, low set brows—making them appear almost completely straight. (Poker face alert)

You swallowed the thick lump in your throat before trying to form a coherent sentence.

"There...people. I mean, the library is packed with uh, people."

"So you just decided to show up in my house?"

His question made you quiver. This was such a wrong move. Of course you couldn’t just knock on his door like this; you two were not even friends!

"I'm sorry. I just didn't know any other place and I..." You heaved a deep sigh. "I saw your friend Jeongguk and he told me where you live—“

"Right." He cut you off by opening the door wide. Of course it had to be Jeongguk. That little shit really knew how to annoy Yoongi.

"Holly peed on the couch so there's no way we can work there. Is my room okay to you?" Despite not seeing his face, you instantly knew that Yoongi's question was directed at you. He was leading the way inside his house and you're behind him, quietly following where he's going.

Yoongi's house was not that big, but it's a lovely and comfortable place. Unlike your dorm, you felt at home here. It's probably the indoor plants that made the place more alive. You suddenly wondered if he's living with someone. Did the love of his life stay here? Or did he have a roommate? You're adamant that he lived alone; otherwise all these plants would probably be dead.

You weren't really a judgmental person, you're rather logical. Yoongi slept during class hours; he couldn't be bothered by moving a single inch, too. You guessed that he hated any form of activity and maybe, that included watering plants.

You were about to ask him if he lived alone when your voice had been overpowered by loud, boisterous bark.

"Oh! Hello there, little guy..." A giggle escaped from your lips when a small dog went your way to lick your exposed legs.

You squatted in front of the puppy so you could pet his furry head.

"Holly, no!" Yoongi called the attention of the brown poodle, but it couldn't care less. The dog named Holly still continued to ask for your affection.

"Holly!"

You almost whined when Yoongi took Holly away from you. You're sure the puppy hated it too. But Yoongi told you that his pet needed to learn his lesson first. The naughty dog really peed on the couch right after his bathroom training. Yikes!

Yoongi let you inside his room after your little encounter with Holly. The vibe of his room contradicted the overall theme of the house, but you had expected it to be this way nonetheless.

His bedroom walls were painted dark blue, too dark it's almost close to black. There's nothing much in his room except a single bed, a study area with lots of technical devices, and oh!

Amusement danced in your eyes when you noticed different manga books on his shelf. You didn't think that Yoongi was the type of person who would dwell on such things, but what really caught your attention was his album collection.

"You like Epik High!?" you couldn't help your enthusiasm when your eyes found the band's album called Shoebox resting on the black metallic shelf near his bed. Damn. Shoebox was your best-loved album of all time! You liked all songs by Epik High, however nothing could ever top the said album for you. Your ultimate favorite song had to be Amor Fatti. That song slapped, though its meaning was often misunderstood by many.

Yoongi only spared you a few glances from the moment you showed into his house, this time, however, he was looking at you intently and for the first time, you saw him smile, a shy one at that.

"Yeah...they're the reason why I write songs..." He whispered, too soft you barely heard it.

You even blinked. Did you hear him right?

"Oh, you're a songwriter?" You flashed a loop-sided smile that made Yoongi's cheeks red.

"Uh, well...it's just what I like to do during my free time."

You nodded and hummed, your eyes were still busy roaming around his room when an idea popped in your mind.

"So why don't we make use of your talent and write a song for this project?" You caught Yoongi's eyes again, but this time, it didn't look dead, truthfully, his pupils dilated when he heard what you just said.

You instantly defended your suggestion.

"I mean, we don't really have a plan, and now we have. I think you're pretty good at it so it'll make our jobs easier. I can sing, don't worry..."

You hated saying that, though you didn't have a choice. You needed to convince him that producing a song would be such a good idea.

Your professor said you needed to make something, anything that would elicit a reaction from him and your classmates. This was a psychology class and your topic for midterm was all about emotions. Mr. Kim Seokjin, your professor, was tired of doing all the talking, especially because your class was unresponsive, so to save his voice (and brain cells probably) he told the whole class that the remaining meeting for midterm would be about his students showcasing their talents that wold, like what you had said, gain extreme emotions from your classmates. It's actually easy except that you're paired with someone you were not close with. On top of that, the presentation of the project shouldn't exceed ten minutes, and lastly, it should be personal.

You spent days thinking about what you and your partner could do, but your brain cells weren't cooperating since you only had two of it, the first one was sleeping and the other only knew the words "Nothing, bitch."

And so now that your former brain cell decided to wake up and save you from your misery of being stupid (even if it's just for good three minutes) you're willing to take it.

Before your 180 seconds ran out, you immediately started blabbing words to convince Yoongi to produce a song with you.

And guess what? Your convincing power must be really good (or maybe you're just as annoying as Mr. Bang and Yoongi just wanted you to shut up too) but hey, at least Yoongi agreed!

<<< Weirdo >>>

The third time you met Yoongi's eyes—well, it's not really the third time. You had actually lost count on how many times your eyes locked with each other. Sometimes, it's a conscious act, but most of the time, it's not. You guys would just find yourselves staring into each other's eyes when you didn't know what lyrics to write next.

Producing a song was not as easy as what you thought it would be. It had been three weeks since the two of you started this project. Yoongi's room had been your workplace ever since. He had the equipment you needed plus it's easier to meet here since your dorm was just meters away from his house.

"My damn throat hurts like hell!" You groaned before collapsing on top of Yoongi's bed.

The past three weeks you spent with Yoongi made the two of you start a beautiful friendship. Admittedly, it's not really beautiful since most of the time; you're bickering at each other. You and Yoongi were so different from each other. He liked starting his work early because he wanted to finish it early. You, on the other hand, were his exact opposite. You're the play now, work later type of person and Yoongi hated it so much. While he practiced delayed gratification, you sat there and ruined everything.

You were always on his bed, cuddling his pet Holly. That's most likely the reason why it's only been two days since you two finished the song. It took almost three weeks because of your procrastinating ass, and now, you suffered. The two of you only had a week before you performed this in front of your class. Yoongi was pissed off at you for the reason that you still hadn't finished memorizing the lyrics and your voice was already strained.

“If I ever see you drinking cold water again, I will fucking drown your ass on that water as I behead you, and then I will freeze your head." Yoongi warned as he joined you in bed.

"Ohhh, morbid. I like that..." You shrugged your shoulders and then you buried your face on his chest—making him groan in irritation.

"You weirdo, get away from me!"

"No..." You laughed because Yoongi was the weird one here. He told you not to touch him or stay close to him, but at the same time, he's wrapping his arm on your waist.

You wondered if this was okay, it's just been three weeks since the two of you had been formally introduced, and yet, you found comfort here. On his bed. In his arms.

You smiled to yourself, yes, Yoongi was a weirdo, but so were you.

<<< Namjoon’s Party >>>>

What you considered as the fourth time you met Yoongi’s eyes was also the first time he called you by your given name.

“You feel so good…” He moaned your name on your neck, his hands were tightly wrapped around your waist—enjoying your body heat.

You suddenly thought if dragging Yoongi into this party was the best idea. Right now, you had no freaking clue how to act. You’re drunk, but not too drunk to not think about the consequences of this night. But damn, you’re just a human. A horny human! How could you possibly stop Yoongi when he’s using his soft lips to paint bruises on your neck!?

You could just push him away and you knew that, though you were also aware that your mind and heart wouldn’t want that, not when you liked what he’s doing to you.

“Namjoon’s party sucks.”

“Just not your crowd, weirdo...” You chuckled. Oh, thank heavens for Namjoon. He was one of your childhood friends and frankly, the song you and Yoongi produced wouldn’t be finished without the help of Namjoon. So when that friend of yours texted you to come to his birthday party, you immediately agreed. Fortunately, you didn’t have to force your one brain cell to wake up just so you could convince Yoongi to go with you.

This wasn’t what Yoongi likesd he hated parties because he didn’t want to talk to stupid people and drunken people were stupid people. Perhaps the only reason why Yoongi was here was because he couldn’t turn down Namjoon—not after all your friend’s genius advice.

“I hate this place.” Yoongi added, he’s now looking at you with sparks in his eyes—or maybe you’re just drunk. Too intoxicated to feel and see anything other than the fact that Yoongi’s already grinding at you.

You huffed; suddenly offended by the clothes you’re wearing. Were you supposed to wear this when all you wanted was to feel Yoongi’s touch on your bare skin?

“We’re here for Namjoon—”

“God, can’t you take the hint?” Yoongi cut you off by pouting.

You blinked. Did this weirdo just pout? And oh, his lips…his lips were hot….hot against your own mouth.

“Yoongi….” You breathed, your eyes were too hazy to see his gummy smile.

“Let’s get the hell out of this place…”

That night, you once again lost count as to how many times you met his eyes. You also figured out that his eyes looked best the most when he’s down on his knees, facing your hips.

<<< The Performance >>>

You were expecting to meet Yoongi’s eyes as soon as you opened your very own one; however panic and fear consumed your whole being that you immediately ran out of Yoongi’s room. You’re too frightened to let him see you that you hurriedly put your clothes on and left his house.

It’s not like it was going to change the fact that you slept with your classmate in Psychology, however, you were scared. Scared to see his eyes back to being dead when just last night, the moon and the stars were there, staring at you like you’re not just a dust in this universe, but the whole universe.

Besides, you had one logical reason: you needed to pick up your costume for your upcoming performance with Yoongi. Taehyung, your designer friend was only available till nine in the morning, so you literally had to run like a lunatic right after you woke up from your cozy sleep on Yoongi’s bed.

Your outfit was perfect. Damn, Taehyung really had a talent when it came to this. Your confidence level was boosted just by wearing the clothes your great friend designed. You thought you’re finally ready to perform the song you and Yoongi produced for one month.

You were so ready, but your heart was not…

Just…where the hell was Yoongi? It had been two days since you last saw him. You hadn’t heard any news from him since you left his apartment the day after Namjoon’s party. Was he mad at you for leaving? Or did he even care?

You had fifteen minutes left before Mr. Kim Seokjin, your psychology professor, marked your grades zero.

“Fucking Min Yoongi, where the hell are you?” You grimaced when your call was directed on his phone’s voicemail.

You had two options: fake death so you wouldn’t have to perform, or kill Mr. Kim Seokjin. (They wouldn’t probably notice if you stabbed your professor on his side since most of them were busy preparing for their own presentations.)

But just as you’re about to resort to your latter option, Yoongi’s familiar scent immediately attacked your nose. You looked back only for you to cancel killing Mr. Kim Seokjin and just choose your former option.

God, how could it be possible for you to still want to stay alive when Min Yoongi was killing you with his looks? Gone was his light blond hair, but you’re not complaining since his now black curly hair was much much better than the previous one.

“Sorry I’m late. Holly peed on the couch again…” His multiple earrings looked too damn good on him. You’re silly; you’re fucking silly because you worried for nothing. Yoongi was still Yoongi, and the sparks in his eyes were still visible.

“It’s okay, we still have time…” You smiled as if the thought of murdering your professor didn’t just cross your mind. Oh well, nothing else mattered when Yoongi was here, right?

Mr. Kim Seokjin said that you and Yoongi would be the last performers for this day, which meant you still had at least half an hour left to stare at Yoongi like a vampire wanting to drink blood. But time flies fast when you’re busy with something. Thirty minutes ago, you were just ogling at your partner, right now, you were in front of the class, spitting fire with your partner.

The first verse of your produced song was rapped by Yoongi. Scratch that, Agust D was in front of you and not Yoongi. Your partner told you that he preferred to be called Agust D whenever he was performing his rap song.

Robber! Robber!

Sorry bae

Killer! Killer!

Sorry bae

Addiction—diction--diction

Sorry bae

“Oh! The court’s case you got away?”

Your partner smirked before proceeding to the next verse. You, on the other hand, stood there to hype the crowd.

You always get away

I’m sorry bae

You smoke cocaine but get away

Justice won’t be served

I’m sorry bae

Everything, everything, everything

Unfair

You were nervous. The next verse was assigned to you. The plan was that you only had to sing the chorus part, though Yoongi had another idea. He wanted you to go out of your comfort zone and try something new. So here you were, rapping.

You commit the same sin

Sorry bae

Your silence they love it

Sorry bae

I see same pigs on the senate

Boring bae

Your vote they bought and they’re not

Sorry bae

Nothing’s new but rich people’s car are

Brand new

Sorry bae

You can’t be illiterate coz they take advantage

Before you know it, you’re one of the reasons

Why innocents are salvage

Politicians know your name

But after the election they act like they don’t know your name!

You and Yoongi both performed the chorus part. It looked like the crowd was enjoying your presentation because they also started shouting and hyping you up.

They love, they love, they love themselves

They know, they know your sufferings

But they don’t they don’t and will never care

Youth wake up, stand up, we should fight the state! Brr!

The following verse was rapped by Yoongi again. You took your time to feel yourself as you discreetly watched the reaction of the people in front of you. A whole month of stress and worry seemed to pay off. You even locked eyes with Park Jimin, one of your most-respected classmates; he cheered for you and that was enough for you to successfully perform the next verse.

I wanna get job (job, job, job)

But I can’t get on the spotlight

Yeah I wanna have a good life!

But my parent’s wings are cozy

I just wanna hide

It’s okay I have time

My trust fund won’t end

So I can still live

And breathe while I finish this game

Called being “dependent”

All night, all day

All night, all day

Don’t care, don’t care, don’t care!

The next verse was easy to execute since you and Yoongi both rapped it. You were facing each other and suddenly, you forgot that there were eyes watching you. Min Yoongi caressed your cheeks once. You smiled as you sensually rolled your body.

Who plays by the rule?

No one!

Who wants to grab a woman's hair?

Husband!

Yoongi slightly pulled your hair this time. You grimaced, but you still continued rapping.

He has mistress so the wife’s depressed

He forgot about their kids but that’s okay

She can cover up for him like how

She can cover her bruise and play cool

As she says “I love him, anyway.”

You moved away from your partner. Your mood instantly changed as you approached the next verse. This one’s challenging to write. Your heart was breaking as you sang.

The other woman on the street has been pulled

By the stranger claiming she’s wet like a pool

She should be thankful since this will feel like

a dream come true

Lick it lick it right, you can take it, right?

She cried and cried and cried, that should be a sign

But “High five!” he told the other man

As the woman cried, her voice is too loud

So they killed her that night.

You let out your frustration by growling and jumping. Min Yoongi was also lost in his own world as he rapped—raising his middle finger from time to time.

They love, they love, they love themselves

They know, they know your sufferings

But they don’t they don’t and will never care

You’re horny, you fucked up! Go on and hate yourself! Brr!

It’s Yoongi’s own verse again. His mood shifted too. If you weren’t part of this performance, you would probably just stare at him. Goddamn, Min Yoongi had his own way of expressing himself.

Back back to the killings!

Your guns check

Call me when you need a gunman I can kill

Even for a dollar

Hashtag no conscience

I don’t believe in God so hell sounds okay

I’ll be with my gang gang

So hell won’t be boring!

The demon you summon

so money won’t be your worry

Payday, paycheck so I can have that rolex

He pointed the rolex on his wrist. It’s not an authentic one, but that’s not the point. Clearly, he just wanted everyone to see that there were other ways to “look cool.” However, many people still chose to listen and be their own demons.

Click clack to the bang bang

Your time has run out.

Click clack here’s my gun

I’m so high on drugs

I see you as a rat

They can control me with money

So you take these four shots

Your life is like a fruit fly

“I can’t understand. Why is it so easy for them?” This was Min Yoongi’s question to you. He asked this while you two were writing the following verse. He hated a lot of things, though he could forgive and tolerate some of it easily. However, he clearly told you that he could never treat someone right if that person used violence.

Click clack to the bang, you and you

Wait your turn

Shit! You little boy

Come here look at the blood

How? You’re asking me?

I don’t know, you’re a man you should know how

He also told you how much he hated this unfair world. He respected women more than ever, but Yoongi was an advocate of both equality and equity. Why can’t boys cry? Are we robots? These were some of his questions too.

If this is the kind of world we live in

I don't wanna live at all

If I exist for your pleasure

then I refuse to accept this call

You joined Yoongi singing the last verse of the song.

They love, they love, they love themselves

They know, they know your sufferings

But they don’t they don’t and will never care

Yo’ human, are you human? If yes then help us save this place!

By the time you finish the song, everyone’s clapping their hands and cheering for you and your partner. You swore you even saw Mr. Kim Seokjin wrote “100” on your paper.

You smiled. The performance was over, contrarily, the attraction you felt for your partner was only starting.

<<< Kimchi and Other Sauces >>>>

The first time you met Yoongi’s pleading eyes was during dinner time. After your performance in Mr. Kim Seokjin’s class, your partner said that the two of you should celebrate this success. Of course you immediately agreed, but that did not mean you were willing to spend money.

“I swear to God, Yoongi…if you ever bring me to a fine-dining restaurant, I will fucking kill you.”

You were not joking. You had student loans to pay so you couldn’t afford to spend a hundred dollar for a fucking spaghetti and sparkling water.

“Chill, you weirdo. We can just—” He stopped mid-sentence because a brilliant idea just popped into his mind.

“What? You’re not planning a yacht dinner date, are you!?” You started freaking out and the uneasiness you felt only intensified when Yoongi smirked.

“Actually, I was planning to…you know…maybe…make you eat my cum.” He simply shrugged his shoulders.

He said it so casually that you just stared at him. Was he serious or were you supposed to be laughing now? You could feel your blood rushing. You were so confused. Excited. Worried.

After what it felt like forever, the staring contest with Yoongi finally ended. He offered his hands and of course, you immediately took it. The both of you rushed toward his big, black motorbike. Yoongi only brought one helmet so he told you to just wear it. The ride to his house wasn’t that far, anyway.

The both of you were in a hurry. Countless profanities were thrown at him for driving hastily; Yoongi even parked his motorbike in a reckless way. Still, you two couldn’t care less, especially Yoongi. How could he? Huh, definitely not after you stroked his cock while driving. That’s really not a smart move, at least not when Yoongi’s mother welcomed the both of you just as Yoongi opened his apartment’s door.

“Eomma! What are you doing here?!” Clearly, your partner wasn’t expecting to see his own mother. It’s pretty obvious since Yoongi’s jaw dropped and his neck was slowly turning red.

“You brat! Why wouldn’t I be here? This is my house!” You knew you weren’t supposed to laugh, however it’s hard to control yourself when Yoongi’s being hit by his own mother while he was trying to cover the bulge on his pants.

“Eommoni! Please! I have a guest!” Yoongi got away from his own mother by hiding himself behind your small frame.

“What—oh!” His mother’s eyes widened when she saw you. She seemed surprised to see Yoongi bring someone. Of course, Yoongi had never brought his friends home. Not even once. At this point, his mother was actually convinced that her son was allergic to human beings.

“I didn’t know that Yoongi is friends with someone as charming as you…” The frightening aura of his mother was completely gone. The older woman engulfed you into a tight, warm hug as she asked your name. You answered her with a smile on your lips.

Yoongi’s mom led you in the kitchen. Actually, you tagged along with her. She wanted to prepare a meal for you and her son, but of course, you couldn’t just sit still and look pretty. As a sign of respect, you needed to help her. Besides, you loved kitchen works, though you’re pretty sure cooking hated every fiber of your being.

The older woman just asked you to set up the table because according to her, she was always in charge of cooking. She also told you to be prepared because you’d surely forget your name once you tasted her award-winning Sam Gae Tang or that chicken soup with ginseng. Hoseok, one of your best friends, made the best chicken soup so your standard was kind of high. For you, nothing could beat Hoseok, but we’ll just have to see.

“Please be kind to my mother…”

Yoongi’s voice and eyes were pleading as he sat beside you. The food was already prepared and the two of you were ready to eat. You were just waiting for Yoongi’s mom to finish washing her hands.

You just raised your brows at the man beside you, clearly not understanding why he’s pleading because really, you knew how to respect elders.

Yoongi sighed.

“My mom is a terrible cook. Her soup tastes like shit, man…” Yoongi shook his head like a traumatized kid. He even bit his lower lip.

You’re about to say something, but you heard his mother’s footsteps, meaning, if you spoke, she might hear you, and so you just kept your mouth shut. You’re expecting Yoongi to do the same, though he just leaned on your shoulders—his eyes were still begging.

“Please, baby? Just put a lot of kimchi and other sauces on your soup to get rid of the awful taste. Can you do that for me?”

You simply nodded. That night, you realized that Yoongi was willing to do everything just to make someone he loved happy. Days, weeks, months, and years passed and you still admired how every time you had dinner with him and his mother, Yoongi would urge you to put kimchi and other sauces on your chicken soup.

At this point, you were convinced you loved Min Yoongi. You had always loved cooking, hell, you were willing to lose your bachelor’s degree if that meant you would be good at cooking, because…

You, just like Yoongi’s mom, were a terrible cook. But Yoongi never complained nor did he ever put kimchi and other sauces on the food you cooked just for him.

<<< Silver Dust>>>>

The first time you asked Yoongi why he liked looking into your eyes was when the both of you were having a staring contest.

The wind was unbelievably cold tonight, clearly, you weren’t expecting to freeze in the middle of a summer night. The annoying weather led you into thinking if climbing on top of your boyfriend’s house’s roof was a good idea. Sure the stars were pretty, but you felt cold. Too cold.

“Do you know the story about the Window and the Mirror?” Yoongi asked out of the blue. He also pulled your body closer to him—making you grimace. The texture of the roof was hard on your back. You shook your head, why did you choose to lay on the roof without any blanket again? Sometimes, your choices in life were really questionable.

“Nah, what happened?” You’re never a fan of stories.

Yoongi sighed. He pulled you closer to him until your face was buried on his neck. Damn. He smelled like smoke and sex.

“Well, for starters, my father left us…”

Yoongi’s words monetarily made you stop breathing. You had known him for years now, but not once did you ever talk about his father. You were aware that his father left him and his mom, though you didn’t know the story behind it.

“My father was a good man and he always tells me he loves my mother more than ever. For the longest time of my life, I believed him. He never looked into anyone’s wife. He never had a mistress, but my father is selfish.”

You just hummed to let him know that you were listening.

He cleared his throat.

“Mom just wants a simple life and that’s why we never left Daegu. This is my home. Our home.” Yoongi’s grip on your shoulder tightened, he looked up in the sky—the stars were prettier when you were in Daegu.

“My father doesn’t like to be here, though. He loves the city. He craves city life. Ever since I was young, he kept telling my mom that they should move to Seoul. Abeonim hates farming. He calls our strawberry farm disgusting. Said he should become a CEO and not a stupid farmer.” Yoongi laughed bitterly. He could still remember the way his father said those words.

“And guess what? He fucking did. Min Hyun Sik, chief executive officer of Bighit Company…” Yoongi cackled and you gasped.

Min Hyun Sik was his father? That guy was like the richest man in South Korea! You wanted to confirm this news that he just dropped, however, you couldn’t move because Yoongi’s grip on your shoulders was so tight.

“He became someone with power by leaving my mother and I.” Yoongi repeated as his eyes darkened. He no longer found the stars pretty. For him they were just lights—shining to hurt his eyes.

“He just left a note like that was going to be enough. He didn’t even say sorry. The only words written on those notes are him telling me to go to University using the money he left.”

You bit your lower lip. His grip was really, really tight…

“He wants me to go to college so I can follow him in the city, and so I went to college. But it’s not because I want to follow him. I enrolled just so I can fucking drop out during my last year.”

You furrowed your brow. If that was Yoongi’s original plan, then how…how come he’s a college graduate now?

“That was the plan before I met you…” Yoongi’s grip on your shoulder loosens, giving you the opportunity to look into his eyes.

He smiled at you.

“So, the story of the Window and the Mirror?” He offered and you just nodded.

“There’s this rich man—”

“Richer than your dad?” You asked. He laughed.

“Fucking richer than my dad…” He left a chaste kiss on your mouth. You giggled. “Anyway, the man went to see a rabbi, some sort of Jewish teacher. Of course the rabbi asked him what he wanted and the rich man said he doesn’t know what to do with his life anymore.”

“Uh, duh? He should give us money!” You butted in again. Yoongi kissed you once more just to make you shut up.

“Unfortunately, the teacher didn’t tell the rich man to give you money, weirdo. The Rabbi just led him over to the window and asked him this.” Yoongi cleared his throat. “What can you see through the glass?”

“And what’s the response of the rich man, Mr. Min?”

“I can see men coming and going and a blind man begging for alms in the street.” Yoongi answered you. “The rabbi seemed content with his answers, so this time, the teacher led him into a large mirror to ask him another question...”

“What is the other question?” You pressed.

“The rabbi asked him this, baby…” Yoongi pressed his lips on your mouth before proceeding to the story. “When you look in this mirror, can you tell me what you see?”

“And?!” You pressed again.

“I can see myself…”

“Obviously.” You rolled your eyes. You just wanted to know the sense of this story.

“And you can’t see the others. Notice that the window and the mirror are both made of the same basic material, glass. You should compare yourself to these two kinds of glass. Poor, you saw other people and felt compassion for them. Rich — covered in silver — you see yourself.”

“Oh,” was all you could say.

Your boyfriend smiled at you.

“My father chose to look in the mirror and I almost did the same. I almost dropped out of college just because I want my father to see that having a degree is useless. But, baby, if I actually chose to drop out, I wouldn’t have met you. I wouldn’t be able to give my mother a better life. I wouldn’t be able to afford to hire a cook and who knows? If I drop out of college, I would probably still be eating my mom’s shitty chicken soup.” You laughed at that.

“I am just saying, I like to look into your eyes because it reminds me of a window. It made me see a lot of things—new opportunities. Because of you, I stopped being selfish. You removed the silver in the mirror; you turned the silver into dust.”

“I fucking love you!” This time, you initiated the kiss.

You kissed Min Yoongi so hard that when you pulled away, he’s desperately gasping for air.

“I fucking love you too.”

<<< The Proposal >>>>

After reminiscing some of your unforgettable moments with Min Yoongi, you finally looked into his eyes.

Yoongi proposed to you and you’re contemplating whether to say yes or no. Your boyfriend despised the crowd, but here he was, down on his knees—shakily holding a ring on his hand.

You examined his face. His lips were quivering, for the first time; you saw how vulnerable he looked. It’s as if his whole life depended on this, and to be honest, it did. Yoongi couldn’t imagine life without you.

“Baby, are you gonna say yes or no?” Yoongi knitted his brows together.

You chuckled. Typical, Yoongi.

“Please stand up…”

Your boyfriend looked at you with confused eyes. His heart started beating so fast he’s very sure it would explode.

“B-But why? Don’t you want to—“ He stammered.

“Just stand up, Yoongi.”

With a heavy heart, Yoongi followed what you wanted. Deep inside, Yoongi was already murdering his friend, Jeon Jeongguk. He just told Yoongi that proposing in a strange, busy city would win your heart.

You two were currently in New York, New York. Strangers were watching you, and Brooklyn Bridge served as your backdrop. Jeongguk said that if Yoongi proposed in a place where no one knew you, then it was a sure win because your mother wouldn’t be able to stop Yoongi. Your childhood crush or ex wouldn't be in the picture too so it was another win for Yoongi. But your boyfriend was starting to regret his decision. He shouldn’t have listened to Jeongguk. What did that dipshit even know about love?

“Yoongi, are you listening?”

“Huh?” Your boyfriend’s train of thoughts were suddenly halted when you spoke.

“I can’t believe you. I just said yes!” You shake Yoongi’s shoulder. It looked like he was still out of his mind and that made you anxious. What if…what if he decided you’re not worth it anymore? What if he didn’t want to marry you anymore?

“Baby, I can’t believe you too. Please give me your hands!” Yoongi exclaimed.

“Oh!” You exclaimed as well. What the hell! You were so apprehensive that you zoned out too!

“We’re both weirdos, do you know that?” Yoongi shook his head after putting the sparkling ring on your finger.

You laughed.

“Oh, just shut up and kiss me.”

“Gladly.”

[shels-kpop-main]

Under the Table, Part Two

Jealous, bearded Brian May x Reader

Word Count: 2642

Warnings: Smut lmao, 18+ only pls

“You two get home safe, okay?” Your mom leaned in for a hug as your dad shook Brian’s hand. The same hand that had just fingered the hell out of you under their dining table. You looked at Brian over your mother’s shoulder, in awe at his shamelessness. He was smiling pleasantly, paying no mind to you. “Good to see you again, Keith. You two take care.” “Of course. Same goes for both of you, Brian.” “Okay, Mom, you can let go now,” you chuckled, in your mom’s tight embrace. But she hugged you tighter. “Well, I don’t know when I’ll be able to see you again! You’re so busy with work and all,” Mom fussed. Brian gave you a genuinely sweet smile as he brought you your coat. When your mom finally released you, she turned and latched onto your boyfriend instead. Which was funny, considering Brian was about a foot taller than her. “Brian, honey, I’m going to miss you, too! You take care of Y/N!” “Don’t worry, miss, I certainly will,” Brian reassured her, returning the hug. But he looked at you when he said it, and something dangerous moved beneath his expression. He’d take care of you, all right.

“I could go for a drink,” Brian said with a long exhale. You looked over at him, frowning from the passenger seat. “Really? You don’t want to…” You trailed off, disappointed that Brian wasn’t taking you straight home. “Oh, I want to,” Brian chuckled, “but I’d like to take the edge off, first. If you don’t mind, love.” “I…okay,” you relented, swallowing your annoyance. “There’s a decent pub just five minutes from here.” “Lovely,” Brian replied dryly, and put the car in drive.

Mulligan’s was in full swing by the time you and Brian pulled up a few minutes later. You got out of the car, growing more irritable by the minute. Why couldn’t Brian just take you home and fuck you already?

But Brian was easy, putting an arm around you and smiling pleasantly at the bouncer. The two of you found a small table off to the side of the pool tables, adjacent to the bar. “Have a seat, love. I’ll get us some drinks, yeah?” “Sounds good.” You threw your coat over the back of the chair and sat down with a sigh. You watched as Brian’s head bobbed through the crowd towards the bar. The music was playing at a decent volume, but not loud enough to drown out the thoughts in your head. You squirmed in your seat, thinking of Brian’s hand under your skirt. “Fancy running into you here.” The voice made you uncomfortable before you even consciously registered who it belonged to. But you’d know Dan’s familiar drawl anywhere. The sound of it made your stomach churn. Running into him alone would be one thing. But with Brian here? After what had just happened at your parents’ house? Fuck. “How can I help you, Dan?” You sighed, turning your face to him slightly. There was a drink in his hand, which you guessed wasn’t going to make him any less obnoxious (or any more modest). You guessed correctly. “Get rid of your boyfriend,” was his not-so-subtle answer. You rolled your eyes, huffing out another sigh. “I won’t be doing that. Sorry.” Your voice was hard, but that did little to deter him. “Come on, baby. He’s so stuffy. Why don’t you come have some fun?” Dan had a hand on the back of your chair, cornering you against the wall. You sucked in a breath, looking behind him nervously. How long does it take to make two whiskeys, neat? “Brian is anything but stuffy,” you snapped, balling up a fist beneath the table. “Whatever you say, sweetheart,” Dan replied, and downed the rest of his drink. “Fuck off, Dan. For the love of God.” “You know, I meant what I said about your face belonging on the cover of magazines. God, why did I ever let you leave?” Dan reached up to touch your face, but you smacked his hand, hard. He held his hands up in defense, conceding defeat. For now. “Alright, alright. But if you change your mind, bring that pretty little face over to me.” Dan smirked, turning on his heels. You watched in disgust as he walked off to join a group of equally douchey-looking guys at a table across the bar. You didn’t realize how quickly your heart was pounding until Brian slid into the seat across from you. He set down the two whiskeys and gave you an easy smile—one that faded quickly. “What’s wrong, love? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” You toyed with the idea of not telling him. It would only escalate the situation. But you remembered your one and only policy with Brian: honesty. You took a deep breath and jerked your chin in Dan’s direction. “Guess who’s here?” The look of confusion on Brian’s face was quickly replaced with one of recognition as his gaze landed on his blond predecessor. Then, the dark and dangerous glint returned to Brian’s eyes. It thrilled you a little, but it was mostly just terrifying. “Did he say something to you?” Brian’s voice was flat, and sounded more like a statement than a question. “It’s nothing, Brian. He’s drunk and being a dick. Nothing I haven’t seen him do before,” you responded, rolling your eyes in disdain. But Brian wasn’t soothed in the slightest. “If he comes back over here—” “We’ll just leave. Brian? Brian, hey,” you urged, snapping your fingers in front of Brian’s face to get his attention. He looked at you and his glare softened a bit. “I don’t want a scene here. Everyone in this town knows each other, and it’ll get back to my parents.” Brian sighed, but nodded, and that was all you needed to feel a tiny bit better. You might have been able to salvage the evening. But Dan, of course, had other plans. … You and Brian sat talking, sipping your drinks. Even slipping each other a few dirty looks since it was clear neither of you had forgotten what happened earlier in the day. You were about to suggest that you and Brian go home to be alone when Dan interrupted you. You couldn’t see him walking up behind you, but you didn’t have to. The mood change on Brian’s face was enough to tell you he was approaching. Your stomach did a somersault as you turned to face Dan. Once again, he leaned heavily on your chair, cornering you. It made you angry and nervous at the same time. Brian saw this and moved his foot under the table, hooking an ankle around your calf. It was a small gesture, but it reassured you. “Still with the poodle-boy, huh?” Dan was slurring a little. He’d clearly downed more beer since you last saw him. “Can you not do this, Dan? We’re grown adults,” you chastised him, leaning as far away from him as you could. “Yeah, grown adults who should go upstairs and remember why we were together in the first place,” he argued. You scoffed, unable to come up with the right words to properly rebuff him. Brian looked about ready to beat the other man to a pulp. “Remember the good old days? After school, before your parents got home from work?” “Dan, I swear to God—” you began, but Dan reached out a pushed a finger against your lips, shushing you. Before you could react, or even process the audacity of his action, Brian was standing. He shoved Dan’s hand away from your face, teeth bared. “Do not touch her,” Brian growled. Dan looked a little intimidated, and rightfully so. Brian towered over him, angry and threatening. He stepped away from you, leaving you space to get up, which you did quickly. “Do you understand me?” Brian’s voice was low, almost guttural. He wasn’t making a scene, as per your request, but it was scary enough to make Dan take several more steps back. You put your hand on the crook of Brian’s elbow, pulling him back toward you. “Bri, let’s get out of here.” “Yes,” Brian agreed, still glaring at Dan, who was thirty feet away by then. “Out of here.” And Brian was pulling you by the hand through the packed bar. After a couple seconds of ducking through the crowd, you noticed you were headed in the wrong direction. “Brian, the exit’s that way,” you panted, struggling to keep up with Brian’s long strides. “I know that,” was Brian’s response through gritted teeth. But he didn’t change direction, and you only came to a stop once he had pulled you into the men’s bathroom. You heard the lock click behind you, and you whirled around to face Brian. “What the hell are you—” Brian cut you off, kissing you hard on the mouth, stubble scraping your chin. Your body instantly remembered his touch, and everything that happened under the dining table. You moaned softly into his mouth as his arms wrapped around your waist. But, as he gripped the back of your skirt, you remembered where you were. “Brian,” you mumbled against his mouth. “We can’t do this here.” “If you don’t want to…” Brian trailed off, pressing kisses down your neck, to your collarbone. You ran your hands through his hair, fiddling with the curls at the nape of his neck. You couldn’t bring yourself to push him away. So, you pulled him back to you, parting his lips with no hesitation. Brian lifted you off your feet a little, just enough to quickly scoot you backwards into the counter. Your feet hit the ground, but only for a second. Brian readjusted his grip on you, and lifted you up onto the fake marble. It was cold on the back of your legs, and you shivered a little. Brian wasn’t shy about running his hands up the tops of your thighs, well past the hem of your skirt. The movement drove you crazy, and you gripped his shoulders tightly. He took the flexing of your hands for what it was—an encouragement, and rubbed at the front of your underwear. “Brian,” you breathed. “Yes?” But you couldn’t find the words to respond, as his fingers slipped beneath the fabric to find your entrance once again. You were already keening for him, with one hand on his wrist. “You belong to me,” Brian told you, pushing a finger into you. Your breath hitched in your throat as the cold metal of his ring moved in and out of you on his finger. “Say it,” he commanded you softly. “Tell them who’s doing this to you.” “You, Brian,” you gasped, hooking your legs around his waist. “Tell me, love. Loud and clear.” “I belong—oh, god—I belong to you, Bri,” you panted, unable to think straight as you neared the event horizon. Brian added another finger, rubbing his palm up and down against your clit. “Just my name, love. Say my name.” You moaned his name, once for every thrust of his fingers into you, until you were nearly in tears from sheer pleasure. After you had bucked your hips into his hand, clawing at his arms, Brian pulled his hand from under your skirt. It was wet, and he took his time in licking each finger. You just stared at him, panting and wanting more. “What do you want now?” Brian asked you, even as someone knocked on the bathroom door. You couldn’t have cared less. You widened your legs for Brian and pulled up your skirt so he could pull your underwear off. You grappled with his belt and zipper to shove his jeans down. Slipped a hand between your legs to guide him to your entrance, aching for him. When Brian finally buried himself inside you, your hips jerked instinctively at the feeling. It was a feeling you had been craving all day, ever since Brian put his hand between your legs under the table. Once you had taken Brian to the hilt, you squeezed lightly around him. This made him shudder, and he bit your shoulder in a wonderful retribution. “He will never touch you again,” Brian groaned into your skin as he slowly backed out of you. Then— “Because he could never touch you like I do.” And Brian thrust into you, hard, making your legs go weak. Your eyes rolled back as he fucked you there, on the bathroom counter, as someone grew increasingly impatient outside. The knocks on the door were becoming more frequent. After a few minutes of mind-blowing sex, a voice interrupted you and Brian. “Oi! Hurry up, mate!” You froze, looking like a deer in the headlights. Brian recognized the voice, too. “Is that--?” He whispered. You nodded, stifling a laugh. “Other people have to piss, too, you know!” Dan shouted again from the other side of the door. “Oh, that’s definitely Dan,” you giggled into Brian’s shoulder. But Brian wasn’t having any laughs. He turned his face to glance at the door, then back at you. And started moving into you again. You could only hold his gaze as Brian continued to thrust, bracing himself with one hand on your ass and the other on the counter. “What are you doing?” You asked, breathless. But you pulled at Brian, with no intention of stopping. “Fucking my girlfriend,” Brian answered calmly, “while her ex-boyfriend waits outside.” That was enough to drive you crazy. You dug your nails into Brian’s back as he brought you to the completion you so desperately needed. Your ankles crossed behind his back, locking you onto him even as his thrusts became sloppier. You came, for the second time that night, crying out Brian’s name into the empty bathroom. There was no doubt in your mind that anyone standing outside would be able to hear your moans echoing off the tiles. Brian came inside you, pressing his face to the side of your neck. His beard was scratchy against your skin, but you didn’t care. You just held him until your breathing returned to normal. Brian reached over and picked up your underwear off the counter. You reached out for them, but he stuffed them into his pocket instead. You shook your head as he grinned mischievously. Once you both looked presentable once again, Brian opened the bathroom door to find a horrified Dan outside. “Sorry, mate, did you need in here?” Brian didn’t wait around for a response as you put your arm around his waist and grinned at Dan. He just threw an arm over your shoulders and smirked as the two of you left the bar, sweaty and beyond satisfied.

Taglist: @adonais @thelondondreamer5 @bubblypenguin123 @strangeandwonderfulconcepts @queens-n-roses @sweet-ladyy @kenzie-belle @attatchment-issues @bowiequeen @alexfayer 

[adoregoldenharry]

Pop Princess h.s.

So this is a story I am writing on Wattpad only. This is only a snippet and it is currently ongoing. If you are interested then you can read it here: Pop Princess h.s. 

(Not my gif)

My wattpad user : adoregoldenharry

Description:

Welcome to the world of fame and riches. Where Women and men are exploited for their god given talents. Kalisto Reed is anything but the average American girl. She's a pop icon turned disaster, as the gossip magazines like to put it. She finds herself in a girl group amongst others with a dream. One day she meets Harry Styles, the golden boy of pop music. Are they too different in each other's eyes? Or will that bring them together?

The beat of the wind lolling through the sky was calm and controlled. Palm leaved trees barely moving opposed to the usual impromptu force of wind. I sat outside on a dark wood lawn chair with blue and yellow striped cushions. The vitamins of the sun painting onto my skin and leaving their mark. The remnants of last night playing hide and seek in my brain.

Not much happened besides watching Shawn getting his face mushed into his cake by his family and everyone pointing their phones at him. I remember smiling and enjoying the moment knowing that someone could send me a video or two later on. The only other eventful thing would be after the conversation I had with Harry in the kitchen, we had gone our separate ways. I did catch his eyes looking for mine every chance it was allowed. It made me a little self conscious.

I was just staring into the sky with my over sized designer lenses. The clouds were coming in and slowly ridding the beams of light from the sky. I sighed watching the sunshine drift away. Closing my eyes seemed like the only solution to eternal relaxation on this day, so it's what I did. Then the door bell rang. "You're kidding me." I sat up sliding through the patio doors through to the entrance of my house.

"Were you swimming?" Shawn asked looking at my bikini. I shook my head moving aside to let him in. He was rather dressed up tonight aside form his usual jeans and tee shirt. His red dress shirt completed by the dark tone of his pants. Curls bouncing from his head in a 'I forgot to brush my hair' aesthetic. He was always one for dramatics. "Not that I don't love you and all but what are you doing here," I closed the door following him to my couch. Shawn sat himself on my leather couch bring me down with him. I could already feel my thighs getting stuck to the seats. "Since its my birthday..."

"You're birthday was yesterday." I interrupted him. He glared at me pulling a small giggle out of me. "As I was saying," He reiterated, " Since it's my birthday some friends and I are going out bowling tonight and I would like you to come." At this point I was already shaking me head. His jaw dropped and he stood abruptly from the couch. "And why not."

I shrugged, "I'm having a self care day."

"Move it to tomorrow," Shawn slouched back onto the couch. He was always so adamant. Honestly if it wasn't for him I would probably never leave my house. I found it comforting to be home where nobody could gossip about me or take an ugly picture that would be stuck on the Internet forever. He kept his eyes glued to me and before I knew it his bottom lip started puffing out. "No no, don't you start with that," I shoved his shoulder. Somehow some way this guy made his eyes sparkle in a way that it was just impossible to refuse any of his wishes. His charm and sleekness so intricate and obviously trained into him. He was a poodle.

I adjusted the strap on my bikini, rolling my eyes. "Fine."

He jumped up and pulled me into a hug. He hurried me and pushed me to my room to get changed. I rubbed my temples thinking about my absence of needing to find the right thing to wear. Settling with a color block inspired jumpsuit that really ended up being louder than I expected when I purchased it online. I looked at myself in my full length mirror studying what I saw. It's something I tried to get myself to stop doing yet here I was, doing it. For most of my life I've let my body define me because it was the epitome of this business. If you weren't pretty you would never make it far. People always made sure to let up their opinions on that. Being in the lime light was not fun or validating. It was toxic.

"You almost ready," Shawn shouted from the living room. With one last look I swept up my shoes to put on on the couch.

The sun barely started falling from its place in the sky. Street lamps igniting and making their nightly appearance. The top of Shawn's Jeep had been removed weeks ago according to him and it felt great. Nothing like a beach cruiser in a beach town. "Who are these friends that we're joining," I closed the mirror flap in front of me after applying lip gloss. "Oh you know," his voice faltered and his eyes kept on the dark asphalt.

I held my head up by my right arm leaning on the car door. My eyebrows shifting upwards waiting for him to continue his answer. "Just uh, Lenny, Kels, Aaron, uh Camila..."

I jumped in my seat. "Camila? You're serious."

"Look Kal, I know you don't exactly get along but please just do this for me." I huffed sitting straight back in my seat.

It was way more than not just getting along between me and Camila. There was this intense aura that surrounded the two of us when we were near each other. It was discomforting and unbeknownst to me why she baited such bad energy between us. It started when I first met her. Camila brought this sweet and girl tactic around with her. When I first started hanging around Shawn he introduced us and we got on well, so I felt. We were at a party at a mutual friend's house and took shots while making fun conversation.

That same night Shawn got up to use the restroom leaving us two to each other. Her first words alone with me were etched into my brain. "Don't get too comfortable, some people don't last too long around here." Ever since then she gave me a stink face at every event I saw her. Yet she loved to be around Leah, Audrey, and Mikayla. I was apparently some sort of bad omen to her. "I knew if I told you she was going you wouldn't come." I didn't answer, I just thought about what sort of night I was in for.

"And I really wanted you to come." He glanced back and forth between the road and me.

The bowling alley wasn't full to our luck. If it had been it would be Shawn's discretion to whether we would stay or not. We spotted our group at some lanes near the other side of the building.

"Harry is here. Why is Harry here. When did you two become so buddy buddy. You didn't say he was coming." I mumbled an edge of panic showing. He grabbed my wrist pulling me towards everyone. "Did I not say he was coming, I thought I did." I had a few choice words for my friend right now but we were too close to everyone at this point for me to shout like a sailor. Camila stood up and rushed to Shawn, hugging him and letting shrill noises come out of her mouth. I smiled at her which she didn't bother to return. Run up on me, I dare you.

I found myself in front of Harry who had a knowing grin on his face. "What a pleasant surprise." I rested my hands on my hips walking up to him where he sat on one of those plastic swivel chairs. "Fancy seeing you here, love." He stretched his long arms out and snuck them around my waist bringing me in for a tight hug. He smelled like vanilla and silk. I really hoped that harry couldn't feel or hear me sniffing him in. That would be very, not good.

"Be right back, I gotta go pick my balls." Harry laughed and stood up from his seat. "I'll come with you." We walked past the counters dividing the floor and the arcade. Lights were flashing in and out with loud stints of sound effects. The wall of balls not too far out from there. I tapped my hand on chin looking at the sizes and colors. "Why are the cute ones always so heavy," Harry stifled a laugh covering his mouth. I rolled my eyes jokingly, "Boys."

I decided on a nice orange color distorted one, only because I could actually carry it. Harry, however, whipped it right out of my hands holding it to his side with one arm. I tried to reach for it to which he protested. Insisting on carrying it for me.

He was saving the chivalry that men killed centuries ago. I could carry my own ball so to speak. I was honestly surprised by the night. Everyone seemed to have so much fun. I was happily entertained by the humor being passed around. Harry and Shawn were two jokers in cahoots. I couldn't stop laughing at one point to which I was of course teased about. Camila wasn't any bother either and I appreciated it. She stayed in her lane and I stayed in mine. I found myself staring a couple seconds too long at Harry.

The way his dimples got bigger with every inch of his smile. How he brushed his chiseled hands through his hair very often. Also how he focused with every sense on a person when they spoke. I was seeing experiencing his famous traits and wow did they project. He was mellow and hyper at the same time. It was exciting to watch. Harry turned to me and poked my cheek only lengthening my smile. I looked over to Shawn who was smirking at me. I sat up straight turning my attention back to Kels who was now rolling her heavy spheric rock down the lane. She got a strike and carefully walked back towards the ball return as she avoids slipping on the waxed floors. I've taken a spill or two in my time. Don't really like to talk about it.

It was ten till eleven and the alley was a little more packed. People were starting to recognize faces within the group so it was decided that after one more game that would be it for the night. I decided to pull out of the last game and strolled along to the arcade. I slid my hands over the air hockey table that sat vacant. Feeling for any air that might come from it. I huffed after I realized it had to be paid for before it turned on. 'What a let down' I thought to myself, leaning against the hunk of metal. "Wanna play with me?"

Harry walked up right behind me. I looked over my shoulder and saw a shit eating grin on his face that made me snort a bit of laughter. I nodded and stalked to one side of the air hockey table as he slipped a coin in the slot. Harry scrunched the sleeves of his black long sleeve up to his elbows. Slapping his hands together and then rubbing them in competition. I bit my lip trying not to give him the laughs he wanted. He could take them so easily from me. I wanted this to be harder but, he was so good and I was so easy for him. Right?  "Fuck," Harry shouted when I made the first point. I jumped and cheered for myself while Harry furrowed his eyebrows readying himself for the next one.

I was sweating after six back and forth points. I needed just one more to knock him off. "Kal don't even think about it," Harry said watching me trying to cheat just a little.

"You don't even know what I was going to do," I dropped my shoulders staring at him in faux disbelief. Harry flipped his hair dramatically getting into another silly stance. I let the puck go back to the middle and tapped it towards him. He hit it back with a little more aggression than I had. I needed a strategy so I thought of something on the fly. "I really love the way your nails are painted," He picked up his paddle looking down at his nails. "Thanks I-," I smacked the puck with my paddle as fast as I could. The puck passed his slot down into the table. The scoreboard making noise announcing that I was the winner.

Harry's jaw had dropped and gently slapped his puck onto the table. "You tricked me."

"Oh. Did I? I'm sorry." I apologized with no guilt on my face whatsoever. He shook his head and crossed his arms walking around the table. He stuck his hand out to me mumbling a 'good game' to which I happily took. I was definitely a sore winner and like to rub my winnings in peoples faces sometimes. It was harmless on my end though so I will definitely keep doing so. Our friends were nearly done with their game. We looked for somewhere to sit and amazingly there was nowhere to drop our bottoms on seats. "Come on," Harry lead me back to the arcade where I had whooped him.

His tall figure bent down and stepped into the photo booth sitting on the small red bench. He held the curtain open for me coaxing me in with his eyes. The way he his stare held so much power was frightening. I squeezed in seeing that he took up most of the seat because well he wasn't the smallest person. He towered over me when we were standing and similarly when we sat. "We don't fit Harry," I laughed at how uncomfortably we sat. "Alright that's it." Harry rounded his hands at my hips and lifted me slightly to stand so he could position himself under me. Bringing my hips down so now I was sat on him. My breath quickened at the feeling and I felt light headed for a great moment. And for the next couple of minutes we just sat there. Enjoying each other's company. Until he started telling jokes that is. But I still enjoyed it. "Hey," I spoked trying to gather his attention, "Wanna do something fun."

Harry gave me quizzical look before I pulled three dollars out of my pocket. "You just carry change around like that in your pocket," I shrugged. Slowly straightening the dollars and then shoving them into the photo machine. We looked through the frames and filters finding the perfect ones for us. "Definitely that one." Harry poked a classy white frame for our strips. I agreed letting him poke the buttons. And not just because he had to lean and press his front against my back to do so. I felt a fire in my tummy that wanted to be let out. I didn't have the water to put it out. Not yet.

I pressed start and it began counting down. "Oh god what do we do." I never knew how to pose for these things. Harry placed his hand on the side of my face bringing it to sit on the side of his. We smiled and looked into the camera. Next we decided on a silly face and stuck our tongues out at each other. After the flash went off we both started laughing. His laugh was so sweet and melodic. It felt like the harmony of angel cries. Our laughs were quieting down but the intensity between us got louder. Green Rain by Mvzonik started to play in the background on surround sound in the bowling alley. I bit my lip again feeling like I was loosing control. Harry's eyes swiftly moved to my lips. Observing me in a very noticeable way. We had long forgotten about the photos.

I brought my hands up to his neck and his moved to my waist. In less than a second my lips were on his. They were so silky and plump, every girl's dream. His hands caressed my sides holding me still in place. The moment of our lips molding into each others felt blissful. Our eyes closed and yet it was pretty evident that the flash went off one more time. We pulled away staring in each others' eyes. Harry's mouth still slightly open and panting from current activities. I brushed his hair on the side with my hands. "Hey are you guys in there," a loud banging on the side of the machine. Harry and I jumped apart. I stood up almost bumping my head and fixed myself to make sure nothing looked out of place. I drew open the curtain walking out seeing Shawn standing against the wall, legs crossed. "Everyone's done let's get out of here and get you home."

I nodded looking back at Harry. "I can drive her." Harry spoke looking at me then to Shawn. "Yeah Harry can take me." Shawn nodded with a mischievous smile and gave me a hug. He shook hands with Harry talking a few words before leaving the two of us. Harry looked down at me making my cheeks turn red. Looking at him meant thinking about what just happened in this photo booth right next to us. He leaned over me with one hand on my waist. Plucking our two photo strips from the black plastic slot. "I rather like them."

Harry handed me one strip. I held the paper carefully in my hands not to wrinkle it. Three photos adorned the glossy memoir. One of us smiling, another of us being goofy, and the last of us sharing a kiss. A shy smile crept on to my face eating away at my nerves. "So do I." I laid my head on his chest and he wrapped his arms around me. We stood there for a few seconds before decided to head out. "You know if these photos ever get out, the media is going to have a field day."

"Well we did willingly hang out in public and made out in a photo booth. So I'd say we deserve it." We laughed walking hand in hand to his car.