#i decided fuck it and spent my black cards on the check event so I could be guaranteed to grab him. still have 20 pulls in event cards-

[aetherose]

This fucker's been avoiding me for way too long. Now. Now I have him. I'll have a propre ice team now and be ready for Shukra in November. Heck yeah.

[teddy06writes]

A Night In Las Vegas

requested by this anon: “I had the BEST idea: CC!Quackity came up with the idea of his Las Nevadas character arc after going to Las Vegas and meeting Reader there. Maybe one night the reader decides to go and twitch and finds quackity doing a lore stream and the reader is like: no way, it’s the guy I met in Vegas.”

{I love this concept, sorry it took so long for me to get out}

Quackity x reader

trigger warnings: some swears

premise: after getting ditched by your friends on the last night of your long weekend in vegas you run into a very interesting guy who doesn’t hesitate to befriend you. But what happens months later when he still seems to be running circles in your mind?

{covid don’t exist here, no sir}

{for the sake of the story, readers favorite color is blue, if its not, either pretend it is, or get over it}

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

10:34pm

“You can’t just- you can’t kick me out!” You yelled. 

Your bestfriend laughed, “Just find somewhere to go for a few hours! Me and Hunter want alone time!” 

“A few fucking hours!?! Seriously?!” But your duffle bag had already been thrown at your feet, and the hotel door room was swinging closed, muffled giggles coming from inside.

Groaning, you picked up your bag, where were you supposed to go now? 

“Not that I was like- listening in or anything- but damn that sucks.” 

You jumped turning to see a man with black hair sticking out of his beanie standing in front of the door diagonal from yours. 

“Uh- yeah. Last night in Vegas and I get ditched for a random hook up,” You scoffed, “I should’ve known it would happen.” 

“That’s not cool, uh- I’m Alex.” He stepped forward, offering his hand. 

Somewhat reluctantly, you shook his hand, “(y/n).” 

He nodded, “I was going to head out for a late night wander, find something to do-, preferably away from all the hookups that seem to be happing around us right now. If you want to come.” 

You glanced around, “Seriously?” 

“Oh- god that did sound kinda creepy didn’t it,” Alex scrubbed a hand over his face, “Sorry- I- you can just forget about this then-” 

“No! I mean- You don’t seem like a rapist or anything. I’ll come with.” 

He grinned, “Poggers, you can, leave that, in my room, if you want. Just seems like a pain to lug around everywhere.” 

You bit your lip, “Leaving my belongings in a strangers room while I go with said stranger to find something interesting to do, sure- why not?”

~~

10:57pm

Somehow, you found yourself wandering out of the hotel lobby, and onto the crowded streets along side Alex. 

“So.... whats your favorite color?” He asked as you walked.

You laughed, “What?” 

“We’re like, total strangers- it was a question, to get to know you.” He tucked his hands into his pockets. 

“Oh, well-” before you could finish your sentence, there was a large amount of gasps and yells from the crowd in front of you.

“What’s going on?” Alex asked quietly. 

You craned your neck to look over the crowd, gasping, “The water show! With the fountains outside of Caesar’s Palace!” You grabbed his hand, tugging him with you to push through the crowd, “This was the whole reason I agreed to this trip- but we never got to it!” 

You shoved your way through the crowd until you got to the front, pressing against the barrier to watch the fountain display. 

“Holy shit.” You heard him mutter from beside you. 

You grinned, “It’s impressive right?” 

“Imagine the coding it would take to get those things to stay on time.” 

~~

11:27pm 

After the show had ended, you had kept wandering for a while, up the strip, asking various questions back and forth. 

You had found out that he was a Minecraft youtuber and a law student, though you’d had to admit, you weren’t too knowledgeable on either that subject. 

Now you were both staring up at the Dave and Busters sign, “This is a good idea right?” 

He nodded, “Definitely. Come on, I’d bet I could beat you at skee ball!” 

Laughing, you followed him into the building, and up the stairs toward the arcade entrance, “Your on!” 

After buying the credit cards for access to the games, you grabbed his hand, dragging him over to the skee ball lanes. 

“Lets go!” He shouted, a few minutes later, upon realizing your score was a total of 10 points behind his, “I’m popping off!”

You laughed, “Okay, what game’s next?” 

Nearly an hour later, you had both run out of credits, and laughing, made you way up to the prize area. 

“Do you think its possible to compile our tickets?” He asked. 

“Why?” 

You followed his pointing finger to the large stuffed dragons sitting on one shelf. 

“We need him.” You said immediately.

After picking out a bright red dragon, you began to argue over the name as you made your way to the counter. 

“What about Carl?” You suggested. 

He shook his head, “I have a friend named Karl.” 

“How ‘bout........ Phil?” 

“I also know a Phil.” 

“Hmmmm, what about Sebastian?” 

“He doesn’t look like a Sebastian!” 

You frowned, “Well do you have any ideas then?” 

Alex thought for a moment, “Albert.” 

You looked down at the dragon, “Albert it is.” 

At the counter Alex convinced the reluctant worker to allow you to use both the cards credit totals, and then you went happily on your way out of the building, stopping to take a picture of Albert in front of the sign, which Alex posted to twitter with the comment of, “Look at our son!” 

You’d staid mostly out of frame, but he managed to get about half of your side, since you were the one holding Albert. 

“Do you think any pf the buffets are still open?” Alex asked. 

“I hope so, I’m starving.” You giggled. 

~~ 12:06am

The buffet was somewhat deserted, and you and Alex had grabbed seats in one of the corners after getting plates full of food.

Albert sat on the table between you as you talked. 

“So it’s roleplay- but in Minecraft?” You asked, barley holding back a laugh.

He nodded, chuckling, “It sounds stupid, I know, but it’s like- huge. Especially since technically I’m getting back into the main lore now, with the whole project: vegas thing.” 

“Project Vegas?” You asked. 

He nodded again, “My character, he’s been through almost everything that's happened, and everything always ends to blow up in his face, literally sometimes. He’s built contries from the ground up- as stupid as that sounds- but they always fail, but this one won’t fail.

“I’m partnering with another guy on the server to set up a whole economy, he’s making a bank, and I’m making- well I’m making my own Vegas.” 

You took a sip of your drink, “What’s it going to be called?” 

“I haven’t figured it out yet,” He admitted, “I wanted to just call it Las Vegas but the names already taken.”

With a chuckle you shifted in your seat, “What about....- what about Las Nevada's?” 

He laughed, “I like that.” 

“Tell me more about this server then, I still don’t understand the story.” 

With another chuckle he launched into the story, “Well, it all started when this guy called Wilbur Soot decided he wanted to start a nation....”

~~ 3:18am

“Blue.” 

You were back at the hotel now, still with Quackity, sitting out on the balcony of his room. Some how, you had ended up having some slightly deep talk about life and death and a million other things before lapsing into silence, simply watching the blinking lights of the city. 

“What?” He asked softly. 

“You asked me my favorite color, ten minutes after we met. It’s blue- that's my favorite color.” You shivered against a cold breeze. 

Alex shifted minutely closer, “Why?” 

You shrugged, “It can be so many things. Deep and dark and mysterious but also light like the summer sky and filled with hope. There’s a million shades from happiness to anger, and to everyone it could mean something else.” 

“I like that.” He said quietly. 

~~

7:04am

You yawned, rubbing sleep out of your eyes as the car drew closer to the airport.

Alex tapped on the steering wheel in time with the music, quietly humming along. 

“Oh, I see my friend, they actually waited for me.” You said as the car pulled up to the curb. 

“How considerate.” He chuckled, climbing out of the car. 

You followed suit, retrieving your duffle bag from the back seat. 

“Well, it was cool knowing you Alex.” You said. 

“Likewise.” 

Before you started to walk away you remembered, and quickly turned back to where he was standing, pulling Albert out of your bag, “Here, he’s yours. You spent more tickets on him than I did.” 

He shook his head, “Keep him. I give you full custody of our son.” 

“Oh- okay... bye then.” 

You barley made it a few steps before he was quickly catching up to you, grabbing your arm and spinning you to press his lips on yours. 

“Good luck with your shitty friends.” He breathed, before hurrying back to his car, leaving you flustered and running to catch up to your friend. 

~~

One and A Half Months later

It had been over a month since the Vegas trip, but you still hadn’t gotten Alex out of your head. 

You had clicked, on some level, and the late night conversation you had shared seemed to keep you thinking about him.

Now, you scrolled aimlessly through twitter, checking the trending tags until you came across one called “LAS NEVADAS” 

Now that piqued your interest, and clicking on it, you found posts of people live tweeting an event- no a live stream. And not just any live stream- a Minecraft stream.

Quickly you opened a new tab, pulling up twitch as fast as you could. 

What was the name of his channel? Oh god why did you forget?

Returning to twitter you searched until you found a link, following it to a new twitch tab. 

And there he was. 

The boy who had been doing laps around your mind was actually there, talking to another character. 

“Look Sam, you and me, we could control everything. I need the bank to help fund Las Nevada’s, we can be partners.” 

You sat, watching the stream, enthralled. 

Once it had ended, you still could hardly believe you found him, quickly following another link back to his twitter and opening a direct message. 

Y/n: Um, this is awkward, idk if you remeber this, but we met in vegas, about a month ago, and I had no idea how to find you until the stream today

quackityHQ: uh, hi? 

qusckityHQ: proof?

Quickly you sent him the picture you had taken of him with Albert, 

y/n: uhhh, bam, proof? 

y/n: our son is sitting on my head board right now

quackityHQ: holy shit

[wolf-and-bard]

The Geraskier dark academia AU of my dreams (because writing these up keeps me sane; TLDR at the bottom because this escalated):

-Jaskier is so ready for college. Like, the readiest he's ever been for anything in his life. He couldn't wait to get out of his stuffy family home, away from his narrow-minded hometown, he is ready. He signs up for a Liberal Arts major, moves into a dorm, drinks his brains away during the first week. He makes an archnemesis, he makes friends, he live-documents the whole affair on Snapchat for his friend Triss who lives across the country, but is always with him in spirit. Life is good.

-Jaskier doesn't think twice when his roommate Zoltan invites him to come along to a party at the Kaer Morhen fraternity house because hello? Orientation week was last month, high time he goes to an actual frat party full of guys like wardrobes that eminate sexual self-assuredness and hopefully some sexual flexibility as well. He puts on his most revealing shirt and too tight jeans and joins Zoltan. The fraternity house is old, red-brick with sandstone pillars and iron-wrought gates which would seem rusty if not for the ivy that curls around them. It's chock-full with people of every kind of major and age, most of them drunk beyond reason by the time Jaskier and Zoltan arrive. Zoltan disappears in a tangle of rugby-players and leaves Jaskier to his own devices. He befriends a group of Archeology majors, their leader being a cute blond called Filavandrel, and they share a bottle of red wine, round and round. He meets his archnemesis, the one he spent all orientation week bickering about music with, Valdo or some nonsense, and they do tequila shots. It’s a nice party and Jaskier has the time of his life until he returns from the bathroom to find a god of a guy standing in the hallway.

-"Oh hello," Jaskier mutters under his breath. Before, his evening was aimless, he let the wave of the vibe take him wherever, let the alcohol blur the world around him. But now, he has an objective. And that objective stands all by his lonesome, scowling down the hallway. Man, does he brood well. Jaskier usually goes for people that are easy to read if some casual fun is what he has in mind -and it's not out of his mind just yet - but this guy intrigues him; there is more to him than simple dudebro-ness. He has shock-grey hair and startling amber eyes and seems to cast the longest shadow. Jaskier wants to ride him. Jaskier also wants to serenade him on a starlit wooden bridge and collect all the guy's deepest secrets and desires to keep under his pillow and draw divine inspiration from. Okay, that may be the Tequila shots talking. He scurries over to the bar, downs another two, then approaches the guy.

-"Hi," Jaskier says as he sidles up to him. The guy half-heartedly raises his beer in greeting.  Taciturn, dark, dramatic. Jaskier decides to go for it. "I absolutely adore the way you just stand here and brood." (Jaskier will only learn much much later that he accidentally used some weird Kaer Morhen frat code and set off a chain of events that changed his life forever). "Lamb," the guy calls out instead of answering, something that makes Jaskier think he's so far gone that he's actively hallucinating. But no, seconds later a guy with equally lush red hair and equally thick arms appears from the crowd. He wears a scowl which has Jaskier's throat tighten. "What is it, Wolf?" Wolf, huh? "Go collect Goat and Kitty-Cat. I found him." And Wolf-Guy grabs Jaskier by the back of the neck and hauls him through a door, down some stairs - is that marble? are those torches? GARGOYLES? - and into pitch blackness. Jaskier squeals. This is what he imagined when he dreamt of college. Well not exactly this, but close enough.

-They bind him with silk scarfs and put a blindfold over his eyes which, okay. Jaskier knows he shouldn't find this as sexy as he does, but he can't help it. He has no sense of self-preservation and this will just be the best of fuel for the first assignment in his screenwriting class. "Oh, this is fun," he murmurs when someone tugs off his boots and someone else smears a fatty paste onto his lips. It smells like... okay it smells lot like his uncle Matthew's pigsty. Weirdly disgusting. "Who are you guys anyway?"

-They don't speak at all that night, don't take off the blind-fold until way later. All night, Jaskier can hear them rustling around him, chanting in some language he doesn't understand. They give him several drinks, most of which honestly taste like asphalt, but make his insides go fuzzy. When the blindfold comes off eventually, Jaskier finds himself on the front-seat of a pick up truck, Wolf guy behind the wheel. They are parked behind the frat house. "Look, I don't think you're a suitable candidate. The guys all said they want to keep you, but my friend recognized you from the freshman introduction party and we usually only inaugurate sophomores." Jaskier blinks. He has absolutely no idea what's going in anymore. His friend Triss is probably worried sick because he hasn't checked in all evening. The faint taste of burned rubber clings to his lips and all Jaskier can think is: Fuck, is this man hot. "Go out with me," he blurts. "Go out with me, I'll show you how suitable I am."

-Over the course of a month's worth of introductions, preparation and inauguration traditions (which, among other things, have him dropped butt-naked in the middle of the forest, requiring him to find his way back to campus; have him spend more time learning long-dead languages than he is comfortbale with; have him getting thoroughly intimate with Eskel's (Goat) helper syndrome, Lambert (Lamb) and Aiden's (Kitty-Cat) ostentatiously loud fucking, Coen's (Hawk) frequent absences and Geralt's (Wolf) quiet, but passionate idealism) Jaskier learns the truth at the core of Kaer Morhen. It is more than a fraternity, it is a brotherhood of students that spend their free time in rituals to protect the college, its city, likely even the whole state from supernatural creatures that threaten to cross over into the world. The existence of these is no surprise to Jaskier who's come out of an adolescence of escapism and coping through fiction and song, but the fact that there are handsome tough guys who work to banish him is too much of a dream to be true. It is true. Unofficially, the call themselves Witchers. They catch wraiths in cricles of runes, they re-direct necrophages into Kaer Morhen's basement and slay them with blades of silver. They brew potions and cast minor spells to get rid of mutated insectoids. And Jaskier is to be one of them. They call him Lark.

-His first ritual goes bat-shit wrong. Jaskier is reasonably sure he did everything right, but the wraith doesn't stay contained after they bound it . "Fuck," Geralt growns after, pressing a cloth to the gaping wound in Jaskier's shoulder while they wait for Eskel to whip out the first aid kit. Jaskier shudders, can taste blood. "There shouldn't be fireflies here, right?" - "Ah, nope," Lambert says. He keeps snapping his fingers before Jaskier's eyes. "Hey, Lark, stay with us, okay?" - "He's fine," Aiden says, inspecting his nails. "If anything, it's Geralt we should be worried about. He's about to have a full blown panic attack." Geralt grunts and holds Jaskier closer.

-"Does this mean I can ask Priscilla to let me copy her homework," Jaskier asks later. He's in bed, bundled up in one of Kaer Morhen's bedrooms. Portraits of alumni line the wall and a hearth crackles away. Geralt sits next to the bed, a pretense-book on his lap. His eyes bore into Jaskier, wide, haunted. "Jask," he breathes out shakily. - "Hello, big guy. How are we doing?" - "Better now that you're awake. We... we had to call in Vesemir. He will want to talk to you." - "Alright, okay," Jaskier says. He knows who Vesemir is of course, but he has no idea what exactly his job entails or what having to talk to him means. "Geralt?" - "Hmm?" - "What did I do wrong?" - "Nothing. You were uncharacteristically precise... but it turns out I was right all along. You're not suited for this kind of work." - "Because I'm not big and buff like all of you?" Jaskier asks, pouting. Geralt has the audacity to laugh. But he also takes Jaskier's hands and kisses his knuckles and huh? What? Jaskier's brain short-circuits. Fuck when did he fall so hard for Geralt? "No, Jask, you're perfect. I mean, uh, ah, perfectly annoying." That bastard. "The wraith went crazy because it turns out you're an amplifier. That means supernatural creatures are pulled to you and can draw from you to manifest easier in our world. You wouldn't have noticed this unless you ever passed by a spot where the spheres overlap significantly. As it is, your participation in the ritual poses a danger." - "TLDR: I'm fired?" - "That's for Vesemir to decide... truth be told, I don't want you to go. But I can't stand the thought of you being in danger. Because of me, this." - "Go out with me, Geralt. Please. One coffee," Jaskier practically begs. Yes, his shoulder is minced meat and he feels exhausted from the blood loss but Geralt has never been this open and honest with him. "...fine."

-Jaskier heals up under the diligent care of his friends. Priscilla is allowed over too, practically drags him though his classes with tutoring and copies of her homework and sugar-coated emails to his various professors. Triss video-calls him three times a day. Eskel's med school expertise leaves Jaskier with the most neat scar he is ever going to get out of this, Lambert and Aiden hang out to play Gwent with him, a strange card game they invented and custom-painted, Coën even pops in to bring Jaskier his guitar and a venti Matcha Tea Latte even though the nearest Starbucks is miles away. Geralt... Geralt is there almost all the way. He sleeps in the chair at first, then - on Jaskier's stern insistence - in the bed with him, though careful to keep his distance. He helps Jaskier into the shower, something so strangely intimate without feeling innately sexual, he takes him out on slow walks. Geralt doesn't talk much, but Jaskier knows he feels responsible. It's fine. Sure. Absolutely fine. Jaskier is so far gone for this man by the time he moves back into his own dorm that he considers getting injured again just to have Geralt by his side. They never do go out for coffee.

-Vesemir doesn't so much invite Jaskier as have him called out of his choir session by a girl about Jaskier's age. She has the same hair color as Geralt and Jaskier thinks he's seen her around Kaer Morhen's bigger parties. "Hello, Jaskier," she says sweetly, but one look at her tells Jaskier she's deadlier than any of the frat boys. If his drunk memory serves correctly she also does a phenomenal keg stand. "Ves sends me to collect you." Which has Jaskier even more impressed with her. None of the boys dare to call him anything but Vesemir or Sir, even when he's not around. - "I've been expecting this," Jaskier says, shouldering his bag. The girl laughs and grabs his arm to guide him out of the building and across campus. - "You are cute," she says. "Geralt said so, but I thought that was just because he's so infatuated with you. I'm Ciri, by the way, his younger sister." Infatuated, huh? Jaskier has just enough brainspace left to save her name. Ciri. They will have to become very good friends. Infatuated.

-It turns out, Vesemir isn't half as scary as the boys made him out to be. He's closer to sixty than fifty, has a stern face, but a kindly voice and the first thing he does after dismissing Ciri with a meaningful glance is offer Jaskier a glass of whiskey. Jaskier sneaks a photograph of the bottle's label when Vesemir stands at the window and glances down at the campus, hands clasped behind his back. Triss will never believe this. It's the sort of alcohol that exists only in myth, at least to college students. "So, Mr. Pankratz. I'm afraid apologies are in order." - "Please, I prefer Jaskier." - "I know," Vesemir says and turns. "I would kindly ask you to delete that picture, my office and its contents fall under the terms of the non-disclosure agreement you signed when entering our brotherhood." Jaskier gulps heavily, the whiskey suddenly sour on his tongue. But he's quick to paste over a smile. He's gotten this far with the mysterious Kaer Morhen fraternity, he can pull all the way through. He deletes the picture. "Good," Vesemir says. "Now down to business." Vesemir gives him two options. Jaskier can consult a local magical artisan and have his memories of Kaer Morhen's true purpose removed. It is an easy procedure, won't cost him anything. Except for his new-found friends and the love he feels for Geralt. Except for the only place he's ever truly felt at home. Jaskier chooses the latter option which is to become the fraternity's chronicler.

-After that, things are supposed to calm down and they do, for a bit. Geralt still dodges any and all attempts Jaskier makes at flirting even though it's evident his resolve is thinning out. Jaskier observes and documents the rituals, begins to collect old notebooks. He's planning to go above and beyond his job and compile a comprehensive history of Kaer Morhen and its members before he's graduated. He may not be able to partake in the rituals or help the guys protect this city from monsters, but he can play his part. Leave behind a legacy.

-Between that and his normal studies, hanging out with his theater group, meeting Triss on alternate weekends and throwing epic frat parties, all of Jaskier's time is consumed. There are several instances in which Geralt and him almost manage to have their coffee, but then they have Eskel on the phone because Lambert and Aiden managed to give themselves poisoning over a simple Endrega job, or Priscilla needs an emergency stand-in for her weekly performances at a local bar, or Jaskier is simply too tired and falls into bed, sleeping over Zoltan's aggressive snoring. Jaskier doesn't mind so much. They catch glimpses of intimacy, Geralt's hand on the small of his back as he guides him downstairs for another ritual, a good night kiss on the cheeks once it's done, a spot of quiet homework-doing in Kaer Morhen's common room together, their legs pressed close under the table. One of these days, Jaskier will find the courage to close the last bridge between them. He just wants to wait until Geralt seems absolutely comfortable with it.

-All is as well as can be until Vesemir comes up with an idea. Because more and more creatures have been getting through and they are unable to hold off all, he wants to capture one of them, an Archgriffin, to bind in their world and act as guardian against lesser creatures. "You're mad," Aiden says. "That's fucking brilliant." - "It's a good idea," Eskel and Coën agree. Lambert keeps exchanging grim glances with Geralt because they both know what this means. They will have to use Jaskier to lure the beast. Which is why they both protest the idea heavily and Geralt gets into a fight with Vesemir. Jaskier is not there for it, but Aiden and Lambert tell him later, once he's back from theatre rehearsal. He watches them fight over it too and then it's only him and Lambert. Jaskier steals one of Zoltan's bottles of spirits and they get stupidly drunk, wandering around campus all night until Eskel collects them and tucks them into bed at Kaer Morhen. "I will not stand to lose you," Lambert slurs, arm dragged over Jaskier's chest. "You're like, almost my best friend. Plus, Wolf would be devastated." - "Aiden seems to think it'll be fine," Jaskier says, snuggling up to Lambert. - "Yeah, fuck him." They fall asleep like that and the first thing Geralt does when he finds them is kick Lambert all the way down the stairs.

-In the end, Geralt and Lambert are outvoted, not that they can stop Vesemir. Geralt is more silent than usual throughout prep and Jaskier can't seem to cheer him up. He knows his life is likely on the line, but he wants to help so badly. These guys are his family after all. If he can make their lives a little easier by doing this... well, he wants to. He needs to. Being in Kaer Morhen is the first time he seems to have a purpose other than writing angsty teenage songs. Eskel keeps checking up on him. Vesemir writes preliminary excuses for all Jaskier's exams which leave him with only A's, something Priscilla does not appreciate in the slightest. Lambert and Aiden fight and fight and won't stop fighting over this whole affair until Jaskier sits them down and makes them talk. Geralt... remains quiet. Jaskier can tell he doesn't sleep. Can tell he rarely eats. He decides now is as good a time as ever.

-It's the night before and the others have all returned to their dorms, but Jaskier stayed in Kaer Morhen under the pretext of Zoltan having his girlfriend over, and Geralt rarely ever goes home. He has a flat off campus, but Jaskier suspects it's drab and lonely. He gets it. Kaer Morhen has soft fluffly beds and fire places and wards and books. Currently, it has the two of them, bundled up in one of the upstairs rooms. They share an armchair before a low fire, not an unusual sight for them, not anymore. And still, Geralt pretends they're just friends. It's ridiculous. "You know I'll be fine, right?" Jaskier says. He has his head tucked under Geralt's chin and has been humming show tunes under his breath for the last half hour, something that usually puts Geralt right to sleep. Not so now. "I can't know that," Geralt replies. He lifts Jaskier's hand which he's been holding and traces the veins on the back of it with his thumb. "You've no idea how dangerous the ritual is. Even more so with you being an amplifier." - "So protect me." - "I will. I promise, I will." - "Geralt, when are you going to finally give in?" Jaskier sighs and pulls back a little. Geralt stares at him, a little cross-eyed and Jaskier gives a shaky laugh. "I'm going to kiss you now. Pull back if you don't want to, but allow it and I'll never let you go." Geralt allows it, kisses back. It's the first night they indulge in a love that has been growing for almost a year and it's gloriously sweet, blazing, beautiful. It leaves Jaskier with faith that, even if things go sideways, Geralt will get them both out of it alive.

-The ritual goes well thanks to the Witchers' meticulous preparations, the dozen or so warding spells they put on Jaskier and Geralt's reflexes that save him from a swipe of the Griffin's claw. They bind the creature to one of the basement holding cells and celebrate with excessive amoutns of vodka and cake. "All is well that ends well, huh?" Jaskier asks from where he sits on Geralt's lap. Strong arms hold him and his chest is full of nightingales that flutter and sing. He watches Eskel drunkenly dance-offing with Coen in a corner, watches Lambert and Aiden make out in another. Vesemir took off, but Ciri is there, lounging next to them on the couch, nose buried in her phone. "I will never put you through such danger again," Geralt grunts, his nose buried in Jaskier's hair. "Of course, love." Jaskier relaxes into the embrace. All is well, though it is not nearly the end of this story.

-TLDR: Kaer Morhen is an occultist fraternity that keeps supernatural beings away from campus. Jaskier, unable to participate in the actual rituals due to a genetic predisposition, becomes their chronicler. Geralt worries a lot. Jaskier tries for the longest time to get him to go on a coffee date or something. Lambert and Aiden are a disaster couple. Eskel keeps them all together, literally and figuratively. Ciri is the one who got all the brain cells.

[princessphilly]

Hockey Fic Exchange: Second Chance in Chicago

This is for the @hockeynetwork​ winter gift exchange. I was matched with my friend, @texanstarslove​ and it was relatively easy to give her what she wanted. 

Title: Second Chance in Chicago

Player: Jonathan Toews

Genre: Angst, smut

Word count: 6410 words

 March 2007

“Wouldja look at that? There’s the future NHL star, looking like the dork he is.”

Lizzie stuck out her tongue as Rachel announced the presence of the asshole himself, Jonathan Toews. They were all sophomores at UND but he had gotten drafted third overall by the Chicago Blackhawks last year. Hockey ruled UND so the team already had a high profile. But this year’s team looked like it would do some damage in the tournament so all eyes were really on them.

Tonight, Lizzie and her friends had decided to go to a frat party at the Beta house. It was a cold early March Thursday night but she had been in the mood to party. Unfortunately, the party had been invaded by the hockey team.

Jonathan grinned, his deep brown eyes sparkling like he had already pregamed. “Hey ladies,” he greeted before grabbing Lizzie and giving her a hug.

“Ew!”

Lizzie pushed Jonathan away. He definitely had pregamed, he smelled like good old Vladimir vodka. He was going to have a fucking hangover tomorrow.

Jonathan pouted. “I thought we were friends, Lizzie,” he exclaimed as he wrapped his arms around Lizzie again

“When did you think that?”

Rachel and Bethany snickered. It was a bit of a running joke, this animosity between Lizzie and Tazer. No one quite knew how it really started except it had been a freshman year hook up that ended bad. At least, that was the rumor. Ever since, Lizzie couldn’t stand Jonathan and Jonathan did every thing possible to needle her.

Lizzie flipped her hair over her shoulder before elbowing Jonathan in the ribs. Giving him an angelic smile, she ordered, “Don’t touch me.”

Being the drunken asshole he was at the moment, Jonathan leaned down and murmured in her ear, “You didn’t say that last weekend.”

“Ugh!”

Lizzie pushed Jonathan away before stomping towards the keg. Jonathan shrugged as TJ and some of the other hockey players came in. She was able to avoid him for the rest of the night and even flirted with a couple of junior guys she hadn’t met. Of course, as soon as she went to get a breather from the hot party, Jonathan was already outside.

Shivering, Lizzie huddled close to the door, planning to ignore Toews. There had been a snowstorm the other day and there was a good ten inches of snow on the ground.  

“Supposed to snow again tomorrow.”

Lizzie let out a loud sigh. Of course, he couldn’t respect her silent plea to be left alone. “This is North Dakota. It’s always snowing.”

Turning to her left, Lizzie looked at Jonathan. For once, he didn’t have his cocky, self-assured, ‘I’m the one in complete charge’ look on his face. He looked slightly pensive and a bit unsure. “Here, have my hoodie.”

“I don’t-,” Lizzie started to say but she relented as Jonathan put his hoodie over her head, pulling it down. She was cold as fuck, shivering in just a short-sleeved shirt and her jeans. “Thank you,” she murmured.

“You’re welcome.”

They stood there for several moments, breath turning into puffs of icicles before Jonathan finally broke the ice. “Ridley, really?”

“Oh, you know him?” Lizzie tensed, UND wasn’t as big as other schools but she could at least have found someone that Jonathan didn’t already know. But then, hockey ruled here and he knew more people than her so yeah, just her fucking luck.

“He’s cool.” Jonathan shrugged, suddenly feeling nervous as fuck. It really wasn’t his area to talk, he didn’t really want to be a cock-block, but fuck it. “He’s not an asshole or anything. But we both know that’s not who you really want.”

“Oh really? Who told you what I really want?”

He hadn’t really planned to do it now; Jonathan had planned to go for it next month. But he already had told coach and his teammates that he was going pro after this season, so he might as well do it. “We have unfinished business, Elizabeth.”

Lizzie froze at Jonathan’s use of her full name.  He was the only one here at UND who ever used her full name. It brought back memories, those first weeks of spring semester of freshman year. Memories of doing things that would have had Momma reaching for her rosary and Papa yanking her out of UND to go into a convent. She bit out, “No, we don’t.”

“So, that’s why you called me last Saturday, asking me to come over after the game?”

Lizzie rolled her eyes. “I was drunk,” she very primly replied, staring at her nails. She thought to herself, ‘I need a manicure.’

“Then last weekend, you came over and you definitely weren’t drunk.”

Lizzie shrugged, pretending she didn’t hear what Jonathan said. She didn’t want to admit the truth; Jonathan made her nervous. She was 19 and every time she was with him, she felt like this could be something that could be forever. But Lizzie had plans; she was planning to go east for law school, get out of North Dakota forever. This wasn’t the time to even think of settling down with anyone, especially not with Jonathan since he was going pro. Even though, her traitorous pussy reminded her, Jonathan made her cum better than anyone else and wasn’t scared to choke, bite, or spank her unlike other guys.

Jonathan growled, of course Lizzie would be acting obtuse. He wasn’t looking to settle down or anything serious, he was just about to turn 19 and about to go to Chicago in five and a half months to start his pro career. Jonathan did really like Lizzie a lot and wouldn’t be against putting a label on what was going on. Then, Lizzie got cold feet last year and had been stringing him along for over a year. It would be nice if Lizzie actually admitted that they had something going instead of being nasty to his face but fucking with him late at night.

“Okay, since you don’t want to face reality, I’m just going to say it. It’s not fair that you like to treat me like shit in public but you want me to fuck you when no one is looking.”

Lizzie opened her mouth before closing it. From the tone of voice that Jonathan had used, it sounded harsh. Like she was using him like a whore. But Jonathan wasn’t done.

“Don’t worry about my hoodie, I’ll get it before I leave.”

Jonathan turned around and went back inside of the party. Lizzie stayed outside for several more minutes, pensive. Then she harrumphed and rejoined the party, resolute that she was going to ignore Jonathan once she gave him his hoodie back.

**

Twelve years later

Lizzie brushed her ginger hair over her shoulder. It was weird to be ginger for the first time since she was fifteen. The past years, she had been a very faithful blonde but it was time to do something very different.

“Not bad for a rancher’s daughter.”

Lizzie twirled in her full-length mirror, admiring the way the navy-blue dress fit her body, accessorized with her diamond hoop earrings, tennis bracelet, class ring, and the brand-new patent leather heels she had managed to score on clearance at Neiman Marcus. Very much the uniform of an intellectual property litigator who had just made partner, not the yee-haw who had went to UND. But right now, as she thought about tonight, Lizzie felt like the yee-haw she tried to suppress.

Tonight, there was a fundraising cocktail hour for her firm, Bradley, Lewis, and Cooper. This would be the first one that Lizzie attended since she transferred to the Chicago office from Atlanta. She was good at gladhanding and charming people, attending Penn Law had sucked the yee-haw from Lizzie’s accent. Now, she was Elizabeth Romanelli, ready to make connections while raising funds for the Children’s Miracle Network.

Only fly in the ointment was that this fundraiser was being held at the United Center. Not only that, it was rumored that the firm was able to get a couple of players for the Blackhawks to appear. Bradley, Lewis, and Cooper did some work for the Blackhawks, mainly with local TV contracts and sponsorships. Lizzie took in a deep fortifying breath. “It has been years,’ she told herself. “There’s no need to be nervous seeing Jon again.”

She turned around and grabbed her coat. It was mid fall but the temperature dropped enough at night that Lizzie wanted to wear her coat just in case. Before she left, she looked at her left ring finger. Taking a deep breath, she slid her old wedding ring off her finger. It was a new start, time to act like it.

**

The fundraiser went pretty well, in Lizzie’s eyes. It was her first firm social event in Chicago so most of it was spent shaking hands, exchanging business cards, and talking some shop. There were a couple of Blackhawks players there, none of that Lizzie recognized. She admitted several times while in conversation, that she was more of a college hockey than pro hockey fan.

Then, the one person she was hoping wouldn’t show up, showed up. Lizzie worked hard not to check Jonathan out but he had the kind of presence that commanded attention. His hair was cut short and the once lanky frame had filled out completely. Lizzie smirked when she saw one of her fellow attendees lick her lips but she couldn’t blame her. Jonathan looked delicious in a black suit with a pristine white shirt, no tie. He looked like casual, dominant elegance in a hockey player package as he made his rounds the room.

“You’re lucky that your department doesn’t work with the Blackhawks on anything,” said the woman who licked her lips. Lizzie looked down and looked at her name tag, it said ‘Elise’.

“Oh why?”

Lizzie took a sip of her pinot grigio, waiting for a reply. Elise didn’t disappoint as she whispered, “He’s single and my law school loans say he would be perfect for them.”

She couldn’t resist laughing at that statement; Lizzie totally understood where Elise was coming from. But as soon as her laughter faded, there was Jonathan Toews, right in front of them. Elise looked up at him, obviously starstruck. Lizzie put her best courtroom face as she stuck out her hand. “Hello, I’m Elizabeth Romanelli. You are?”

Jonathan blinked when Lizzie introduced herself as Elizabeth Romanelli. She was Lizzie MacArthur in the flesh, all these years later. Grasping her hand, Jonathan said, “Jonathan Toews, but you know who I am.”

Jonathan kept his best PR smile on his face as he processed his thoughts. This was Lizzie, the only one who got away. She was a redhead now, not a blonde, but those green eyes were still the same. Deep green eyes that always brimmed with an intelligence that had made Jon feel like he was an idiot when they first met at UND.

“Oh, how do you two know each other?”

Lizzie managed to keep her expression completely neutral while Jon reddened a bit. He dropped her hand as he said, “We went to college together.”

“Where was that,” Elise innocently asked and Lizzie wasn’t sure if she was truly curious or if she was being a bit catty.

“I went to University of North Dakota with Mr. Toews for undergrad,” Lizzie said. “Then I did Penn Law.”

Elise replied, “Oh. I remember reading that once.”

Lizzie refused to roll her eyes as Jon made small talk about the hockey season with Elise. Spotting a waiter, Elise raised her hand for another glass of wine. Tonight, was looking like it was about to be long. Before she could make her escape, Elise exclaimed, “Oh, there’s Mr. Schmidt, I need to talk to him! It was so nice to meet you and talk to you, Mr. Toews, Ms. Romanelli.”

Lizzie sighed as she scampered away, leaving her alone with Jonathan.

“Long time, no see,” Jonathan said, taking a sip of his water. Tomorrow was a game night and while he enjoyed drinking, he had no interest in doing anything that would keep him out of peak performance. But looking at Lizzie, he wished he had something stronger. The years had done her good; she looked curvier, stronger, hotter. He felt his pants tighten and Jonathan thought of his smelly hockey gear to deflate his hard on.

Lizzie stroked the curve of her new wine glass before replying, “I know. Wasn’t necessarily planned.”

“Romanelli?”

“I was married,” Lizzie’s smile tightened.

Jonathan quickly replied, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ask anything that would make you feel- “

“It’s okay, let’s not go there, okay. Before you ask, I’m a widow.” Lizzie looked down at her wine. It had been long enough that she knew she wouldn’t break down but it was awkward to talk about it with her first college hookup/almost boyfriend. After all these years, Jonathan still had an affect on her. She felt a bit lightheaded but her once dormant libido had flared up as soon as they shook hands. It was as if her body had decided that someone worthy was nearby and it was time.

“I’m sorry,” Jonathan repeated, his voice low as he ran his fingers through his short hair. It was a bit overwhelming seeing Lizzie again but he was already damn sure that he needed to see her again. As they exchanged pleasantries, Jon moved on to another group at the fundraiser. But every now and then, he made sure to catch her in the crowd.

At the end of the night, he was finally able to get Lizzie alone, again. “Now that you’re in Chicago, why don’t we go out? As old friends?”

Lizzie laughed as she waited for her coat. “We weren’t old friends and you know it.”

“But who said that we can’t be at least friends now?”

Jonathan gave Lizzie a big smile while she scoffed, “I can tell by the way you’ve been looking at me all night that you aren’t interested in being just friends.”

“How was I looking at you?”

Jonathan leaned into Lizzie as he noticed that Seabs was nearby. While he loved Seabs as a brother, he didn’t want him to have any idea of what he was planning, yet.

Lizzie batted her lashes at Jonathan before replying, “Like you never seen a woman before. I have to keep the conversation business casual but we both know what I’d really like to say.”

“Then, you should let me have your phone number.”

“Smooth, Toews,” Lizzie commented. “Very smooth.”

“I try.”

Jonathan couldn’t help himself; as Lizzie received her coat from the coat check, he helped her put it on.

“Wow, I don’t know if you’re actually a gentleman now or if you’re trying to get points,” Lizzie quipped.

Jonathan gave her an aw-shucks grin and a shrug. Despite her better judgment, Lizzie figured that it couldn’t hurt. She didn’t really know anyone yet in Chicago and it would be nice to talk to someone who she at least knew from college. But she didn’t want to openly give it to Jonathan so she took the moment to turn and grab paper and a pen from a table. Writing her number and snap down, she slid it into Jonathan’s pocket.

“There, now you can never say I never gave you anything.”

Lizzie turned and sauntered away. Jonathan fished through his pockets and grabbed the paper, grinning and laughing to himself.

**

Lizzie had to give Jonathan credit. He knew how to attempt to get a woman’s attention. The flowers were a nice touch; not too ostentatious and he was smart enough not to attach his name to them. But Lizzie knew exactly who they were from because there were exactly nineteen pink and nineteen white roses in Monday’s bouquet. Yesterday’s bouquet was a set of nineteen purple flowers that after she looked them up, Lizzie found out that they were purple columbine. Today’s bouquet involved nineteen white camelias and nineteen red chrysanthemums.

“This guy must really like you.”

Lizzie turned around to see Peter, her paralegal. He was pointing at the flowers, a pensive look on his face.

“Really? He just wants my attention.” Lizzie dismissively waved towards the flowers but inwardly, she was loving it.

Peter raised an eyebrow. “Okay, whatever you say. Anyway, I have five messages from the managing partners.”

“I already know what they want and I already reviewed the files and sent them to Kristin, Jacques, and Malik. They are working on the briefs for the arbitration and they should all be done by the end of the work day. I will prep my own opening argument myself for the hearing when we are done talking. You can quote everything I just said in your email,” Lizzie stated with a smile on her face. This was her first arbitration hearing at the Chicago office with her new associates working under her. But she knew it would go well.

“But the flowers. I’d look them up, Ms. Romanelli. He’s sending you a message with each bouquet. Especially that first one with those kind of pink roses, maiden blush roses? Oh, he’s definitely telling you something.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

Lizzie brushed Peter off, her mind already back on work. However, she messaged Jon later, I like jasmine, lily of the valley, the most.

The next day, there was a bouquet with yellow jasmine, lily of the valley, and red pink flowers, the number adding to 19 and a note, looking forward to seeing you tonight.

**

Lizzie was still a mystery and Jonathan was desperate to figure her out. This was their sixth date and every time he felt like he was getting closer to her, Lizzie pulled back. Jon understood but at the same time, he was getting annoyed. He was also horny as fuck and trying very hard not to let his cock dictate his actions.

Tonight, Lizzie wore a little black dress with strappy heels to dinner and all Jonathan could think of was having Lizzie wear those heels while he fucked her hard and fast. It took all his willpower to keep the conversation light during dinner as his traitorous brain filled with all kinds of dirty images. Now, they were having post dinner drinks at a place Kaner had suggested. It was very intimate, the kind of place for seduction. Unfortunately, Jonathan thought, there would probably be no seduction tonight as he stood on the wall with Lizzie.

“I intentionally wore these for you.”

Lizzie fluttered her eyelashes at Jon’s dumbfounded expression. She wasn’t dumb; she knew exactly the kind of affect she had on men. Lizzie had to give Jonathan credit; he was doing a good job of not being a stupid hornball.

“I love them,” Jonathan drawled before taking a sip of his whiskey on the rocks. He told himself to be patient, as they continued to talk but after another half-hour talking about football, Jon finally broached the subject. “Are you seeing anyone?”

“Are you,” Lizzie countered. She went out on a couple of dates with a couple of different guys when the Blackhawks were out of town because, in her mind, she was still a free agent. Doing that actually made Lizzie feel more comfortable with going out with Jonathan. Not that the other dates were bad but Lizzie had to admit to herself that there was still something more with Jonathan.

“No,” Jonathan admitted. His DMs were full on all social media so he could go out with anyone he wanted if he truly felt like it. But right now, he really was just interested in Lizzie.

“That’s nice.”

Lizzie twirled the straw in her cocktail. Jonathan thought about what to say but ended up blurting out, “I still think about some of the things we did.”

“Woooooooow.”

Blushing, Lizzie bit her lip. Some of those memories had come back since she had seen Jonathan again. Some of those things that had seemed extra sinful at eighteen and nineteen were mainstream these days. Plus, Greg had tried but he didn’t have that same aura that teenage Jonathan had. Adult Jonathan had that dominant aura in spades and it was tempting.

Lizzie added, “And?”

Jonathan moved closer to Lizzie, his big body bracketing hers, his monotone voice even deeper, “You remember when I tied you up the first time?”

“That was…. interesting,“ Lizzie replied. She felt flushed, that memory now in her brain. They had been fumbling around and Jonathan had tied her up before making her beg and scream his name. But the knot had got stuck and after he cut her out, Lizzie had chafed skin on both of her wrists. “It was an interesting experiment.”

Jonathan licked his lips. He noticed that Lizzie was flushed, her body leaning towards his. It was almost heady, the tension, he could taste it. So, he decided to press into the attack.

“We’ve both grown up now. I mean, I know what I love to do in the bedroom and I’m not a teen boy fumbling around.”

Lizzie resisted the urge to roll her eyes at Jonathan’s pronouncement. Steeling her face so that she looked impassive, inwardly she was freaking out a bit. Jonathan had been pretty good fuck in college, better than the rest of her boyfriends before she married Greg. But this Jonathan, three times Stanley Cup winner and hockey superstar Jonathan, he seemed lethal.

And he knew it as he gave Lizzie a little smirk and a wink.

“Don’t worry Lizzie, no one is going to judge you now if you like a little pain. I definitely won’t. You know I liked giving it to you when we were experimenting.”

Exasperated, Lizzie exclaimed, “You’re still so arrogant! I seriously doubt you’d have a chance to fuck me again.”

Jonathan moved closer and Lizzie backed up, backing into the wall. Jonathan got close enough that Lizzie could smell his expensive cologne but far enough that she could easily move away if she wanted to.

“I don’t know why you’re still lying to yourself all these years later,” Jonathan murmured, his dark brown eyes looking black. “But I’m patient, I can still wait. You still want me and I’ve always wanted you.”

Lizzie bit her lip and Jonathan resisted the urge to groan. He had thought that he had forgotten her but just meeting her again two months ago had brought back those old feelings. Now, he was getting tired of playing cat and mouse but from what he had learned from TJ and Ridley, Jonathan was trying to be careful and tactical with his advances. He at least managed to get her to go out with him. His cock could wait.

Of course, after telling himself that, images from a decade ago filled his head. Ignoring them, Jonathan instead taunted, “Nothing to say? I never thought lawyers could be rendered speechless.”

Instead of replying, Lizzie reached out and touched Jonathan’s sweater. It was super soft and felt like it was made from the finest cashmere. She finally replied, voice low and soft, “Why am I so attracted to you? This shouldn’t really be happening.”

“Fate.”

It was a very simple reply as Jonathan grabbed her hand and brought it up to his lips. He kissed her hand, just a brief touch of closed lips to skin. But it felt like electricity coursed through both of them. Jonathan recovered first before giving Lizzie a devilish smile. “Night, night Elizabeth.”

***

“He’s way too smooth.”

Lizzie took in a deep breath as she watched the first snowfall of the year through her office window. Rachel’s laughter at her complaint registered super loud over her ear pod.

Rachel commented, “Of course he is, he’s had over a decade of practice. I can’t believe he’s still interested; I think Jon has dated models and he could date anyone. You’re lucky as hell, Lizzie.”

Lizzie pouted as she moved away from the window. “I don’t know if I want to be lucky.”

“Well, I remember all of the sneaking around you’d did when we were in college. You had no problems fucking him in private.”

“RACHEL!! Oh, my Gawd, you knew that?!?”

Lizzie put her hand on her forehead, mortified. She thought she had been cautious.

Rachel chuckled before continuing, “No one else figured it out. But it was obvious that sparks were flying. And then Jon goes pro and you end up dating around until you met Greg. But you never were as happy as you were freshman spring.”

Lizzie sighed, feeling a headache beginning to start. “Greg, you know I loved Greg.”

“I know honey, if you hadn’t, I would have seriously considered stopping the wedding,” Rachel consoled. “And he did help you escape the ranch and your parents’ plans.”

“I’ve been a widow for 3 years and this is the first time I’ve been attracted to a man,” Lizzie blurted out. Her cheeks reddened as she realized her admission.

There was an extended pause before Rachel finally replied. “Then you should go for it. Greg wouldn’t want you to give up on sex because he’s gone.”

Lizzie flipped through the messages on her work phone as she pondered Rachel’s words.

“I gotta go, Alyssa is about done with school and the baby should be up any minute. Stop thinking and just fuck him. Just remember to put color corrector and concealer over any marks Jonny leaves on you.”

Lizzie exclaimed, “Rachel,” but she had already hung up. Checking her personal phone for messages, Lizzie grinned when she saw she had a snap from Jon. Opening the snap, she saw a photo of Jon signing jerseys and picks with a note of can’t wait to give you one.

Lizzie responded; too bad I’ll be too busy to get one for the next couple of weeks

Lizzie put her phone down, ready to focus on her work before getting a new message from Jon. I told u I can be patient.

**

Lizzie looked down at her list of pros and cons. All the pros were reasons why she should fuck Jonathan: get rid of all the unresolved tension from college, he’s an already proven great fuck, probably the best guy to be her first fuck since Greg passed away. The cons were that he was Jonathan Toews, he was famous, and he did have the ability to be an asshole. Her skeptical side told Lizzie that she probably couldn’t keep it casual but the other side was like, was that a bad thing?

Shaking her head, Lizzie pulled on a pair of jeans before putting on a sweater. The Blackhawks were back in town and last night, she went to the game courtesy of Jonathan. Lizzie had taken Elise with her and they enjoyed the Blackhawks winning against the Flames. It was actually fun as Lizzie explained some of the finer points of hockey, such as power plays, penalty kills, offsides, and the fact that all refs in all sports were absolutely awful. Tonight, she actually told Jon she would come over after they saw a movie.

Lizzie was curious about where Jonathan lived. She knew it was in an area called Lincoln Park; she lived in the outskirts of the North Side. Her student loans from law school demanded payment so Lizzie moved in the nicest area she could afford, in a gentrifying neighborhood. “Get a taste of how the rich live tonight,” Lizzie said to herself. However, she did put on a matching pair of underwear just in case she decided to do more.

**

Jonathan looked at Lizzie as the car pulled up to his place. He had been on his best behavior tonight; no sly comments, etc. after last time. But Lizzie had been cuddly during the movie and now, she… he couldn’t read her actions.

Jon entered his code and led Lizzie inside. “Very nice,” Lizzie commented as they walked through the first floor of his place.

“Oh wow, you have my favorite flowers,” Lizzie exclaimed as they walked into his kitchen. There was a vase with Spanish Jasmine flowers.

Jonathan shrugged even though he was inwardly pleased. He had ordered them this afternoon, a rush order when Lizzie said she would come over. Now she was here and he felt at a loss. His cock said to seduce her, his brain said to wait for her cues and see if she was actually interested. Jonathan grabbed two cups and got himself and Lizzie a glass of water before guiding her back into the living room.

“More movies,” Lizzie teased as she made herself comfortable on his leather couch.

Jonathan shook his head no, suddenly nervous as he cut on the TV. He didn’t want to fuck it up.

Lizzie smirked as she watched indecision on Jonathan’s face. Tonight, had been their first date since that conversation and it was obvious that Jonathan was still very interested but didn’t want to do anything that seemed pushy. Lizzie thought at first it was because they were out in public but she realized that if she wanted to actually go there again, she would have to bring it up.

“What are you thinking about, Jon,” Lizzie asked, intentionally shortening his name.

Jonathan put his arms on the back of the couch and mentally said fuck it. “Do you want to good answer or the dirty answer?”

“Dirty answer?”

Lizzie grinned as Jonathan gulped then groaned.

“I keep looking at your ass in those jeans and I want to grab it so bad,” Jonathan admitted. Lizzie looked at his big hands and she decided that tonight was the night.

“You can grab it, if you want?”

“Huh, what?”

Jonathan looked so dumbfounded that Lizzie giggled. “I said you can grab it. That’s another way of saying, you can touch me.”

“Are you sure,” Jonathan asked, locking eyes with Lizzie.

Lizzie rolled her eyes before grabbing his hand. “I came here with the full intent of getting fucked. But if you aren’t interested, that’s okay and we can hang out before I go home.”

“Oh, do you really want me to fuck you?”

Jonathan raised an eyebrow as Lizzie flung her hair behind her shoulder. “I want you to kiss me, eat my pussy, maybe I’ll suck your cock, and then fuck me, if you want to get precise.”

“Goddamn,” Jonathan breathed. “Fuck, then why don’t you sit in my lap?”

Lizzie climbed into his lap before locking eyes with Jonathan again. His deep brown eyes looked nearly black and he had stubble all around his jaw. She traced his jaw with her fingers before running her fingers through his hair. His voice a deeper monotone, Jonathan murmured, “I’m not going to bite, unless you want me to do that.”

Instead of replying, Lizzie brushed her lips over Jonathan’s, once, then twice. Then she leaned down and nipped his lip. “I like biting,” she whispered against his lips before kissing him again. Jonathan’s arms came around her waist, keeping Lizzie in place as he began to take over the lazy kiss. Need stretched through their kisses, tongues interacting as over a decade apart melted away. Then Jonathan pulled away. Lizzie reached to pull her sweater off but Jonathan stopped her.

“Let’s go to the bedroom, I don’t want to fuck you for the first time in forever on a couch, at least not this time.”

Lizzie laughed as Jonathan picked her up and nearly ran to his bedroom. She didn’t even get a chance to look around and admire before he was on her. Jonathan’s hands were all over her body as he desperately kissed her. Before Lizzie realized it, her sweater and bra were off and so was Jonathan’s hoodie and t-shirt. She could feel his rock-hard abs against her body as Jonathan rolled so that Lizzie was on top.

“Your tits are still fucking amazing.”

“Thanks,” Lizzie beamed as Jonathan gently kneaded them in his hands.

He murmured, “They are still so sensitive,” as her nipples hardened quickly in his fingers, watching Lizzie’s changes in expression. “So, you’ll tell me right away if I do something you don’t like?”

“Like what,” Lizzie asked.

Jonathan lightly grabbed her throat, something they had never done before but something he had learned that he liked to do. “Like that.”

“Mmmm, this is good,” Lizzie replied. Choking was one of the kinks she had explored with Greg and that she missed.

“Fuck, you got dirtier,” Jonathan stated before rolling Lizzie under him again.

“Why don’t you stop talking and undress me some more,” Lizzie ordered.

Jonathan laughed before idly replying, “Normally, I wouldn’t let you tell me what to do but we haven’t even negotiated that yet. And we aren’t, not tonight.”

Lizzie’s giggled as she shimmied out of her jeans. But those giggles were replaced with moans when Jonathan’s fingers brushed her upper and inner thighs before stroking her pussy through her panties. “So wet for me.”

He had planned to go slow but Jonathan was pretty sure that wasn’t happening, at least not for this first round. He needed to be deep inside of Lizzie, back where he belonged. Jonathan stood up and took off his own jeans and boxers, revealing his very hard cock. Lizzie reached up and ran a hand over his cock before pumping it with both hands.

“I’m not going to last that long,” Jonathan warned as Lizzie began to jerk him off. “I want to cum deep inside of your pussy, Elizabeth.”

“Oh my God,” Lizzie breathed. There was something in the way that Jonathan said her full name, it made her pussy drip even more.

Jonathan reached into his night stand and grabbed a condom. “Be a good girl and put this on me.”

Lizzie took the condom from Jonathan’s hands and opened it. Then she guided it over his cock with a wicked grin on her face. Leaning back on her elbows, Lizzie smirked at Jonathan before sucking her lip into her mouth. “Fuck me, Jonathan.”

Jonathan growled as Lizzie spread her legs, showing him just how wet and ready she was for him. Pulling a leg up and over his shoulder, Jonathan entered Lizzie slowly, making sure she felt every inch. Lizzie moaned, her hands grabbing anywhere they could on Jon as he fucked her, slow soft strokes turning harder with each thrust.

“Fuck you feel so good,” Lizzie groaned as Jonathan gave her a harder thrust, hips grinding with each stroke.

Jonathan managed to reply, “Your pussy still feels like it was made for me.”

He was already close and Jonathan couldn’t hold off even though he could tell that Lizzie wouldn’t cum with him this time. Jonathan’s lips found Lizzie’s as he kissed her while he came. Lizzie let Jonathan ride his high out, she could feel that she was getting closer but she wasn’t there.

Jonathan slumped against Lizzie for a couple moments before withdrawing from her pussy. He took off the condom, telling Lizzie, “Stay there.”

Dumping the condom into the trash, Jonathan pulled Lizzie to the edge of the bed. Spreading her legs, Jonathan knelt in between, fingers spreading her folds. Then his tongue licked her clit and Lizzie arched off the bed. “Don’t worry, I’m going to take care of you,” Jonathan cooed as he played with her clit. Then he dove in, licking her juices from her pussy before tongue-fucking Lizzie’s entrance. His fingers continued to roll her clit with light pressure, enough to keep Lizzie on the edge but not enough to get her to cum. Then Jon sucked her clit into her mouth and bit it very lightly, enough of a shock to get Lizzie to cum with a scream, fingers grabbing sheets to hold on for dear life. Jonathan muttered something in French as Lizzie rode out her high. Then she fell asleep with a light snore.

**

Lizzie laid on the bed, her hair fanned out around her head, body too depleted to move yet. But she peeled herself up as Jonathan was sitting up next to her, a MacBook in his lap.

“Wow, what time is it?”

“It’s a little after midnight,” Jonathan replied. He had changed into a pair of sweats and Lizzie licked her lips. He looked really good in gray sweats.

She shrugged. “At least it’s Saturday.”

“I cleaned you up after you passed out.”

Jonathan gave Lizzie a wicked grin as she blushed. “It’s been a while,” she replied.

Lizzie got up and Jonathan pointed to his left, indicating that was the way to get to the bathroom. Lizzie stepped inside of the master bathroom, still too tired to check it out. After taking care of business and washing her hands, Lizzie walked back into Jonathan’s bedroom. Jonathan handed her a t-shirt and said, “You’re too tired to attempt to drive home. You can stay here; I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

“I like cumming so you don’t have to keep them to yourself.”

Lizzie gave Jon a saucy smile while he groaned.

**

Let yourself be happy. Find that guy again, the one who was before me. I just want you to be happy, don’t shrivel up and die because I’m gone.

Lizzie looked at the note, last note from Greg before he passed from non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. Her wedding ring was on next to it, the simple gold band twinkling in the late winter sun.

Today was her seventh month since her move to Chicago, fifth since she met Jonathan for the first time in years. Tonight, she was going to the game, Elise going with her but this time, they were going to sit with the WAGs. Lizzie had met Jonathan’s closest friends and teammates and it was obvious that there was something happening between them. But Lizzie felt the need to look at this one more time.

“I’m going to be happy, Greg,” Lizzie whispered before putting her old wedding ring and the note in a box, setting it next to a vase of nineteen red tulips that Jon had given her. Then she pulled her hair into a ponytail, sent all work calls on her work phone to voicemail. Picking up her personal phone, Lizzie smiled as she looked at the text from Jonathan.

She wasn’t going to run this time. She was going to embrace a future with Jonathan.

[harryskalechips]

Illicit affairs Part two

A/N Hi here is part two!!! I’m sorry for it being so delayed I’ve been busy taking care of my new sick puppy. I hope you enjoy this one! Please show some love and send me your thoughts hahaha enjoy ❤︎

Y/N and Harry decide to end their affair and she thought it would be okay since her internship was ending. Too bad she was offered a permanent job and she took it. 

Tw: Cheating, smut

Thank you @harrysleftchelseaboot for letting me participate in your writing challenge! Here is my part two! Any new writers or readers please check out the masterlist! So many cool stories written from prompts!

here are my prompts:

“Letting you go was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”

“Do you think soulmates are real?”

“I still love you. I’ll love you for the rest of my life. Even if you don’t love me back, and even if we both move on, there will always be a part of me that will always love you no matter what.” 

“Your hands look so cold.”

Note: I do not condone cheating whatsoever! Please mind that this story is fictional! As much as it makes me sad to paint Harry as a cheater, it’s part of this storyline I thought of as I listened to Taylor’s album, Folklore.

Word count: 8.6k / Masterlist��// Part 1

It’s been three months since Y/N accepted her job in marketing for Columbia Records. It wasn’t too bad. Matter of fact, it’s been the only thing that has been distracting her since her breakup last year. She got her own office and had a bit of privacy too. Luckily, she was no longer sorting papers on a tiny desk in the middle of the hallway nor was she on coffee runs every morning. The only thing that seemed to stick, however, was seeing Harry Styles. 

When Rose, Rob’s assistant called her three years ago about the internship Y/N was ecstatic. Not only was this an opportunity to go celebrity sightseeing every day but this company gave people like her great opportunities and a great recommendation too. There was no possible way that she could turn down Rob’s offer. She’s been dreaming of a career like this for years! 

What truly sucked about her job at the moment, however, was the pop star, her marketing team was taking care of. Over these past months, not only was he able to ignore her presence, he became a bit of an ass too! Maybe that’s not even the right word to use…. He was being petty! That’s what Y/N thinks. To be honest, during the countless meetings they had over these past months Y/N would drain him out.  As he spoke all she could do was repeat that word in her head as she mimicked his British accent. But can you blame her? They were together for a year and he constantly led her on. She fell in love with a married man who promised that he cared for her. She found herself compromising a lot of things in their relationship that she shouldn’t have needed too. Not only was she twisting her values for him, but she was also forced to take the second bits of him. 

On her birthday, he arrived late at night because he and his wife had an interview with Vogue. He bought her a necklace and made love to her a countless amount of times but the next morning... he was gone. 

there would be times, he wasn’t able to spend time with her since he was in London with his family. Yes, he video-called her and made sure to speak to her for a reasonable amount of time but he also went M.I.A for another two days. 

The last example she could think of at the top of her head was when everyone had a date at their company’s charity ball. She had to witness Harry and his wife put on a show for the cameras. He looked at his wife as if she was his star and touched her like he’s been doing it for years. The whole night, he had his arm wrapped around her, constantly keeping her close. The only problem is in reality he’s been acting like that with Y/N -not her. 

So yeah although she broke up with him -she was angry. Yes, she said they shouldn’t keep in touch but she thought she was leaving the company! Now, he’s acting as if he never spent a night at her place, fucking her. He’s been acting as if he never had a meal with her nor snuggled her on the couch. He’s cold and she hates him for that. Not only was this hurting her, but she also loved him! And for that...he’s cruel. She can’t even remember how many times she had to run to the washroom during work so she could cry in one of the stalls. Sometimes, she felt like he was purposely picking on her. Calling her out for her mistakes or for her lack of attention. She was new to everything and she was still learning. She just never thought the man she shared her bed and her secrets with would be so indifferent. That’s why she calls him petty.

“Y/N? I’m heading out. Want me to get you some food?” Marissa asks her as they sit in the boardroom with Harry. Their meeting ended a while ago but they decided to work through lunch since Mr. Celebrity wanted to fix a few things with them.

 “No, I’m alright.” She looks up from her paper as she replies. She notices Harry in front of her leaning on the table as he hunches over flipping through a few papers.

“Are you sure?” Her co-worker frowns as she leans across the doorway. “You haven’t eaten yet?”

“Marissa, buy her some food.” Harry interrupts Y/N before she can speak up. He stands a bit straighter as he reaches down to grab his wallet. He pulls out a black card and gives it to the girl. 

“Oh.” Marissa’s eyes widen as she stares at the card in her hand. “Would you like anything?”

“No, buy for yourself too. This one’s on me.” He nonchalantly replies as he goes back in his old position to read through the contracts.

 Marissa was confused if she was being honest. She worked for Harry’s marketing team ever since he started going solo. She loved working for him because he was outgoing and respectful but for the past few months, he seemed to be too serious and a bit pissier. Maybe it had to be because of his wife? Little did she know it was because of the girl who was sitting a few feet from him. 

When she left, Y/N choked. It wasn’t noticeable but she could feel her throat tightening. She has never been left in a room with him since their unbearable breakup. Funny enough, although the company celebrated her new job, Harry mindlessly ignored the event. He came to the party but he never congratulated her. So from that, Y/N knew he was far more than upset about their breakup. He was being salty.

“Y/N,” Harry speaks up as he walks towards her with the contracts in his hand. Y/N didn’t even want to look up. Was he speaking to her for the first time...again?

“Yeah?” She replies, trying not to make her wobbly voice sound apparent. 

“What do you mean about this part of the contract?” Harry coldly asks as he puts the paper in front of her face.

“I’m not sure. Marissa wrote the contract. I worked with Yvonne on your merch shop.” Y/N replies in a monotone manner. 

“How are you not sure? You didn’t even look at the paper.” She can almost hear a sigh under his breath. Y/N finally looks up and glares at him. She takes the sheet out of his hand and reads the new highlight from his pink pen. 

“I don’t know, Harry.” She gives it back to him and continues to work on her list without saying another word. She didn’t want to look up again because she could already feel his eyes staring at her. He somehow always loved to do it. “Stop looking at me.” She blurts out. She and Harry weren’t expecting her to say that. He awkwardly coughs as he runs his hand through his hair. He walks back to his usual spot in the room and pretends as if nothing happened. In reality, however, his heart was racing. Although he was so pissed at her, she looked pretty today.

~

“Have you ever been on a date before?” Marissa asks Y/N as they walk out of her office together. Y/N wasn’t going to lie. She’s pretty lucky that she became close friends with Marissa. Now, they have a routine of picking each other up from their offices. It made her feel a bit less lonely since she sees her ex every day and he gives her nothing but a cold treatment. It’s a bit ironic how a few months back, her heart would flutter when he visited the building. Now, she sees him a bit too often for their liking.

“Yeah.” Y/N shrugs her shoulders and gives a funny look to her co-worker. “Why are you asking?”

“I don’t know you never talk about your love life. I always talk about my husband but I never heard anything coming from you. I know you like to have privacy but I was wondering.”

“It’s complicated.” She lets out a laugh. “I broke up with him two months ago.” 

“Who was he?” Marissa smiles as her mouth opens in shock.

“A liar.”

“What did he do?”

“All men are the sam-”

“Have a good night, ladies.” A voice interrupts them. The women stop walking as they catch sight of Rob and Harry looking at the contracts they were previously working on earlier in the day. They sat on one of the many couches with many papers sprawled out onto the coffee table.

“Gosh Rob, you gave us a fright!” Marissa laughs. “Sill looking at those papers? Call me tomorrow if anything needs changing.” Marissa rolls her eyes as she smiles at them.

“Don’t worry.” Rob laughs. “Mr. Styles here is just going through the contracts with me one more time. You girls go home.” 

“Alright, hope you and Harry have a good night too.” Y/N says nothing but waves as she follows Marissa to the elevator.

“Wait!” The familiar voice calls for them. Y/N and her co-worker turn around to see Harry still sitting on the couch looking at them. “Y/N, just because he lied to you. It doesn’t mean he wanted to lose you.”

 ~

You would think that Y/N repaired herself and became more comfortable working with her ex after that last encounter with him…. But no, wrong. In fact, she was dreading going into work today. How does this man ignore her for two months and then suddenly, he’s acknowledging her presence?

“You know what I find funny?” Marissa blurts out. Their marketing team had a conference room for themselves apart from the other room they were in yesterday. Yvonne and Jasmine look at her, waiting for her to reply while Y/N slouched in her chair out of distress. “Harry’s been a total ass to you ever since you got a job here.” She wasn’t lying, the whole office knew Harry was extra hard on her. “It got me thinking… why did he say that to you yesterday?”

“What did he say?” Yvonne gives a confused look to Y/N. Y/N just closes her eyes and turns her chair away from her colleagues and instead, to the wall.

“He said something like oh just because your ex-boyfriend lied to you, it doesn’t mean he wanted to lose you.” Marissa mimics his deep British voice. “Who on earth says that! And you guys barely speak to each other? How could he possibly know about him?”

“Wait a minute. Is he like siding with Y/N’s ex?” Jasmine’s eyes widen at the thought. “If her boyfriend lied then it is his fault!”“

Right I-” Before Marissa can continue. Y/N turns her chair towards them again and interrupts their juicy gossip. 

“Guys!” Y/N calls them out. “It’s not a big problem. H-he has probably been in a relationship where he was in that position and he said that.” She tries to reason with her hands. “J-just let it go.”

 “Oh shit, I forgot. Your breakup is still fresh.” Marissa covers her mouth in pity. And this is a reason why Y/N will never talk about her love life again.

“Excuse me, girls.” Rob knocks on the door and lets himself in. “I need one of you to go with Harry tomorrow back to London for his interview.”

“Rob, why’d you let us know so late?” Yvonne complains. “I would go but my sister’s wedding is tomorrow!”

“I’m sorry hun, I thought he would just need someone from publicity but it seems like he also has a pop-up shop there opening soon.”

“I can’t.” Jasmine shrugs her shoulders. She doesn’t even bother saying why. Y/N knew she had to say it before Marissa. She can’t imagine being on a whole ass trip with her ex. Yet somehow the girl beat her to it.

“I can’t go either. Sorry.” Marissa speaks up. She was planning something. It was obvious from the way her eyes connected with Y/N’s.

“Alright, Y/N please be ready by 4 A.M. Harry will have a driver sent to your place.” Rob looks at her and smiles. “This is going to be a great experience for you.” 

~

Coffee wasn’t going to cut it. Y/N barely got any sleep since she had to pack as soon as she got home. Apparently, they were staying for 5 days so this meant more torture for her. At 4 A.M on the dot, a black car picked her up in front of her building and drove her straight to the airport. There she saw Harry and Emily already sitting in the VIP lounge, laughing about something. 

“Good morning!” Emily says to Y/N as her eyes catch sight of hr entering. Emily was a nice woman from publicity. She’s been working in PR for over 25 years, making her a pro in handling any scenario. 

“Good morning.” Y/N smiles back as she pulls her hand carry with her to one of the seats.“Why are you sitting so far?” Emily laughs. Harry seemed to be too interested as he read something on his phone. “We don’t bite.”

“Oh no, I’m okay here. Thank you. I just have to stretch my legs.”

“Alright. Well now that you’re here to keep Harry some company, I’m going downstairs to get a bagel.” The old lady stands up and grabs her purse. She waves at them one more time before leaving the room.

Silence. 

Nothing but pure awkwardness and it was driving Y/N mad. She hated that this man was making her cry even though they were over. Maybe, she shouldn’t have stayed with the company.

“They have really good smoothies downstairs.” Harry blurts out, still looking at his screen. “I know you really like having one in the morning. Thought you should know.”

“Thank you.” Y/N was playing with her cuticles but gave him a quick glance. “I’m fine though.” Nothing but distant conversations can be heard as the ex-couple continued to act disinterested in one another.

This is the final call for flight BA111 to Thailand. 

What caught Y/N’s eye, however, was Harry reaching something into his back pocket. It made her have to speak up. “Putting on your ring again? Funny how no one seems to notice how hot and cold you are with it.” Harry scoffs as he stays frozen staring at her.

“None of your business.” He slides the ring on successfully and goes back into his old position.

A brief pause happens before Y/N decides to speak up -she was tired of his attitude. “You know what?” She glances around the empty room before whispering back at him. “I don’t understand what got your panties in such a twist. You need to stop being such a jerk to me!” Harry’s face shows no emotions as he listens to her. 

“You don’t know why? How about out of the blue your girlfriend breaks up with you.”

“It was destined to happen, Harry!” Y/N’s eyes widen at his response. “You’re marr-”

“They had so many bagels to choose from! I had to buy two since I couldn’t pick!” Emily walks in, all innocent. “You guys okay?”

“Perfect,” Harry mutters but it wasn’t. As they boarded his private plane, he watched Y/N walk in front of him, trying to wipe her tears.

~

The whole plane ride was quiet since he realized most of them had to catch some sleep but for some odd reason, he couldn’t. Harry’s bodyguard was at the very front row, snoozing off. Emily had her own chair and she crashed the moment the plane took off. He didn’t know if Y/N was awake but he hoped she was sleeping. When he saw her the first time this morning, she looked so drained out. 

Harry just didn’t know what to say nor what to think. His breakup caught him off guard and now he’s been in a bad mood ever since. Sometimes, he wondered if his divorce would make him feel this way and in all honesty, he knew it wouldn’t. 

There was something still tying him to that depressing marriage and he’s starting to think that maybe Y/N was correct. He was scared to be like his parents but that didn’t make him regret anything he said to her that night. He knew he would keep her a secret even if he was single again. The idea of reporters picking on her didn’t settle well with him. Just the thought made his stomach sick.

 So although he’s heartbroken, the only way he found himself coping was by picking on Y/N. Y’know the girl that broke his heart. He didn’t mean to but his first instinct was to ignore her until her internship ended -And that went well until Rob announced her permanent position in the company. He was mad at her for torturing him. He told himself that he would let her go because she wasn’t happy with him. So why the fuck does it feel like she’s teasing him. 

Every time he walks into those meetings, he can feel the tension between them. It makes his head go crazy as if he needs to beg on his knees so she can take him back. But like every love story, it’s just not that simple. It’s his pride and his reputation on the line. He needs a gap after his divorce before he can even go public with her. Oh, what is he thinking? No matter how much time he thinks can fix this, people will still attack them. He lost so many girlfriends because of his fame and he won’t let Y/N deal with it too. Especially, since she’s not a celebrity. She has no idea what this lifestyle can truly be like.

 ~

“London is quite… big.” Harry puts his shades on as he watches his bodyguard put the last luggage in the car. They were in a hidden corner outside of Heathrow Airport, Y/N and Emily stood next to him as they waited for his instructions. “You ladies can travel and explore the city. But, I was wondering if you would like to stay at my home this week. It will save you some money.”

“Oh no, Harry we don’t want to bo-” Emily speaks up.

“No, I insist. I had to bring you ladies along the last minute. Tom, you have my car ready right?” His bodyguard nods. “Perfect, you girls hop in with me and Tom will drive behind us.”

“Harry, your house is so beautiful.” Emily’s eyes shine as they step out of his car. 

“Thank you.” Harry smiles proudly as he glances at Y/N. “Let’s go inside so you can pick out your rooms.”

The house was gorgeous. Y/N wanted to tell him too but after their little fight at the airport today, she decided to keep her mouth shut. To be honest, there were so many things she wished she could tell him but he’s been acting so unapproachable. 

As they walked inside, the house smelled faintly like him, making Y/N forcefully hold in her breath a couple of times. How can this man barely be here yet the place smelled just like him.

“Oh, Harry…. You and your wife are very lucky to have this house. I love this rustic theme. It feels so homey.” Emily compliments him. “Y/N when you get married, make sure you take care of the decorating portion, so you can have something like this.”

 “Oh-” Y/N’s eyes widen as she hears Harry cough behind her. 

“My wife has actually never been here before. She’s not a fan of London.” Harry tries to say nonchalantly. In reality, however, both of their hearts were racing. Their brains synced up with one another as they thought about a distant memory.

 ~

It was a couple of months into their affair as they cuddled naked against each other in Y/N’s bedroom. The moonlight was shining right onto them as they both stared at random objects in her room, appreciating their intimacy. Harry’s hand comb her hair back while she let her fingers mindlessly trace his tattoos. Their breathing was in sync as they whispered sleepy thoughts to one another.

“What’s it like in London?” Y/N mumbles as her lips touch his chest while she speaks.

“It’s rainy,” Harry replies back. He scoots himself closer to the girl and kisses her forehead. “Have you ever been?”

“No.”

“I’ll bring you one day, I promise.”

“Really?”

“Mhm, I’ll bring you to all my favourite places and fuck you so hard in the hotel rooms.”

 “Why does that sound so appealing?” Y/N laughs as she looks up at him. “Can we go soon?”

“When I find out how to not get seen by the paparazzi, sure.”

“Does this mean we have to have all our meals in our hotel room?” Y/N pouts -because as much as Harry can request a secluded room, he’s still married and people will talk. 

“Baby, don’t make it sound depressing. I’m sure we’ll find ourselves a loophole.”

...

“You’ll try?” She pulls away immediately looking at him. “What do you mean? Have you not been trying to do that these past few months!” He rubs his face in frustration. 

“It’s hard Y/N. I told you countless times.”

“I know it’s hard but what’s stopping you from doing it! You told me that you don’t want to lose me but for some odd reason, it seems like you don’t want to lose her!”

“She was my first love Goddammit!” He finally yells back at her.

~

It’s been two days since their stay in London and Y/N was enjoying every minute of it. Although she had to give some of her hours to work, she couldn’t deny her excitement as she and Emily walked through the unknown streets.

Funny enough while they were eating at a small cafe for lunch, she ended up meeting a new guy. His name was Elliot and he came from New York to visit his family here in London. He was just having lunch with an old friend of his. He noticed her accent and decided to approach her table.

Although, Y/N thought he was cute - she wasn’t interested? It confused her because the moment he asked for her number, she thought of Harry. Which automatically made her say yes. She just doesn’t know if she’s ready for a new relationship but what’s the problem with trying?

“How was your day?” Harry watches the women come into his home as he sits on his couch watching TV. It was around 8 PM and he had nothing to do. His schedule this past year was made to be available for Y/N (excluding PR events)  and since they broke up, he never planned on changing them.

“Harry, oh we didn’t think you’d be home. You’re a celebrity! Shouldn’t you be out partying?” Emily laughs as she sits on the couch. She rests her bags on the floor as Y/N does the same. 

“Oh no. I’m not really into those. I don’t know it’s a nice Friday night to relax. Tomorrow, we have that interview in the morning so I wanted to sleep early.”

“What a smart boy! Well, Y/N and I did some shopping. London is so beautiful. I’m glad I’m here again. Actually, that reminds me! Y/N tell Harry what happened today!”

“Huh?” Y/N’s face pales as she looks at Emily. Her co-workers seemed to invade her love life without seeing a problem. The problem is, however, is that they don’t know what’s truly been happening. “Elliot.” Emily gives her a comforting smile.

“Oh, do you  know him?” Harry gives her a serious look as he turns down the TV. 

“No, he came up to us while we were having lunch.”

“He was so cute Harry! I hope they get together.” Emily squeals. “He’s from New York but I think he was truly interested in you Y/N. He was bold enough to ask for your number!”

“Did you give him your number?” Harry asks Y/N without looking at her. He was biting the inside of his cheek pretty hard trying to pretend as if he didn’t care at all. Suddenly he was too focused on watching the show on his TV.

“Yeah.”

“Cool”

And although Emily continued the conversation, Harry didn’t think it was cool at all.

~

Knock...knock…

Y/N hears the soft knocks on her door as she leaves her ensuite. A couple of hours ago the conversation in the living room ended leaving them to rest in separate rooms of the house. 

“Hey.” She catches herself off guard as she sees Harry in front of her when she opens the door. She glanced at his familiar outfit and for some odd reason, it made her feel good. He was wearing his sweatpants and an old band tee she used to wear when he stayed at her’s for a few nights.

 “I was wondering if we could uh talk.” He glances at the hallway he’s standing in. He was scared Emily would walk out of her room.

 “Oh yeah Sure. Come in.” Y/N opens her door a bit wider to let him in. Her luggage was messily opened in the corner of her room while her shopping bags stayed on the other side. She mindlessly hides her arms in her sweater and sits on the bed. “Funny how you want to talk but you’ve been ignoring me for 3 months.”

“Uh just thought it was a good time to talk to you since we’re not really at work and we’re not surrounded by people.” Y/N rolls her eyes. He had to be bullshitting her.

“Why are you here Harry? Are you thinking you can sleep with me tonight? That this is an opportunity?” Y/N gives a disgusted look as she watches Harry standing in front of her with his arms crossed. 

“What? No. Y/N… I just- Fuck.” He lets his arms out in disbelief. “ I don’t know why I’m here. I’ll leave.” He turns around but her voice calls him out. 

“No. Stay. You obviously have something to tell me.” He turns around and sighs. He sits beside her on the mattress and looks at his hands.

“I miss you.” He blurts out. Y/N rubs her eyes, not from tiredness but because she misses him too -so mainly from frustration. 

“You can’t say that.” 

“You told me to stay and tell you what I needed to tell you.”

“You didn’t need to tell me that.” Y/N pulls her hands from her face and sarcastically laughs at him. She knew she was still in love with him but she also knew their break up was for the right reason. Their affair was wrong. He didn’t know what he wanted and she knew too specifically what she needed.

“Well, you’re right.” He replies with a bit of an attitude. “I don’t know- just forget this ever happened.”

“Okay good, I’ll go back to texting Elliot.” Y/N shrugs her shoulders and reaches for her phone but before she knows it, Harry grabs her phone and unlocks it. It was still his birthday as her passcode and although that made him feel a bit better, he stood up to recite to her the stupid messages on her phone. 

He tries to hide his red cheeks as he scrolls through their text messages. “Did he just ask you what your favourite colour was?” Harry squints his eyes as he looks at her. He was carefully observing her reaction to his texts.  “That’s a stupid question.”

“I found it cute.” Y/N speaks over him. “Are you done looking at MY messages.”

“Bub, you actually think you’re going to get with this guy?” Harry looks away from the phone and looks at her. “He seems like a total wim-”

“Don’t call me bub Harry!” She interrupts him. “Especially, since you’ve been calling me stupid in front of all my colleagues at work during these past two months!” Y/N furrows her brows as she takes her phone back. She hates that he’s here right now. He’s acting like he wasn’t a total ass to her at her work.

“Shit Y/N.” That’s when he realized he fucked up. “Okay, I’m sorry about that.” He watches her as he combs his hair back. 

 “You can’t just come in here, say you miss me and look through my personal text messages. You pretended as if I didn’t exist these past few months and that hurt me!”

“Y/N, I’ve been hurting too!” Harry walks closer to her and shakes his head. “Don’t think our relationship meant nothing to me.” 

“Well, you sure as hell mastered the acting skill! Don’t try to manipulate me, Harry. You ignored me. You embarrassed me. You’ve been treating me like shit!”

“I needed to move on from you Y/N. I had to manipulate myself into thinking I was making the right choice. Our relationship was the only thing making me happy.”

“Do you have any proof of our relationship?” Y/N sarcastically replies as she closes her MacBook and places it on the nightstand. “You have all these pictures of you and your wife but everything about us is hidden.” Harry’s eyes widened. “I lie to my family. You come to my apartment taking the hidden roads and a thick cover-up. Do you think that makes me feel better? Knowing you’re not just hiding me but your affair from the public.”

“Okay, what the actual fuck? What is wrong with you? What’s up with your obsession with us being public? Do you want fame or something?”

“How dare you?” Y/N stands up to meet his height. “Is that what you think of me? Using you for fame!”

“It sure damn seems like it.” Harry rolls his eyes as he walks forward to her, making them the closest they’ve been in for months. 

“Harry, I’m 23! Everyone I know makes it clear they’re in a relationship. Just because people know about us, it doesn’t mean I would publicize everything we do. I just need evidence that this relationship we have between us is real!”

“YN are you bloody kidding me right now. Of course, it’s real! What have we been doing these past years?”

“Messing around?” Y/N scoffs. “You’re married and for some goddamn reason you won’t leave her!”

“Even if I ended things with her, I would still keep you a secret Y/N. I don’t know what you want from me.” Harry calmly states as he closes his eyes. 

“There’s a difference in keeping me a secret and having our relationship known to the public but being very private.”

“I don’t know why this matters to you so much. You know I care about you and I want to be yours. Fuck -I was yours.” Harry wipes his eyes a bit. 

“You don’t know why it matters to me so much because you aren’t me. You don’t know how it feels to have the second bits of someone. You don't even understand how I feel -to be so in love with someone, only to know from the beginning they were never fully yours, to begin with.”

“You love me?” Harry chokes on his breath as he looks down at her. He obviously knew they had such a deep connection but he never thought about love when it came to them. You want to know why?

Love always makes everything complex and hurtful. He fell in love for the first time with his wife and look where it led him? In a broken marriage where he no longer had hope. He had wishes and dreams for the two of them and throughout the years, they all disappeared in a drought.

 Love is such a pleasing and attractive feeling that every human wants but why does it always end opposite for him? To be in love is different. You have to be vulnerable and Harry has never done that with Y/N. He doesn’t even know if he can do that again. He already fell in love and found someone who he would call his partner. In sickness and in health. Till death do us part. That didn’t go as planned.

“Yes.” Y/N looks down but Harry’s hand rests on her chin to make her look at him again. 

“Why couldn’t you tell me sooner?” He was stalling. He was asking her questions so he wouldn’t have to explain his feelings for her. He was also trying to let her down slowly. 

“Last time I spoke to you, you told me you wouldn’t leave your wife because she was your first love.”

“Oh.”

“Is she your only?”

“My only what?”

“Your only love?”

Silence.

There’s your answer.

“For a husband to cheat on his wife, people would say you have a big ego but I don’t think so. Elliot isn’t the wimp Harry… you are.”

“It takes two to tango Y/N. Don’t just blame me.” Harry lets his hand fall. “I have rules I stand by when it comes to marriage and you know how much of a pain she is!”

“You told me you wanted to leave her but that never happened! I kept telling myself that our relationship was okay but why was it still killing me?” She furrowed her eyebrows as she looked at him. “ Do you still love her?”

“No,” Harry answers immediately. 

“Why are you still holding onto her? Why can’t you see that she’s not making you happy and you need to get out of this marriage.”

“Because it’s marriage Y/N! I committed myself to her for my whole life!”

“You sure as hell weren’t committed last year!”

“You don’t understand because you aren’t married!” Harry finally screams the loudest. His face was red and it seemed like the blood vessel in his neck was about to burst.

“You’re telling me… you rather have me continue compromising my morals and keep this relationship hidden just so you can have the best of both worlds?” Y/N scoffs. “You’re stupid.”

“I know.”

“You can’t have everything. I know you’re famous and rich but you made the choice not to fight for me two months ago and now I’m choosing the same.” Y/N shakes her head and rests her back on the wall. She looks at him with disappointment in her eyes. “I don’t know why we keep having this same fight. We always go through the same topic and the same arguments. Although I’m fighting for what I need in a relationship, I’m also fighting for you to realize you’re better off without her.” 

“I guess you can say I’m a bit stubborn.” He speaks up in a soft voice trying to communicate with her in a more respectful tone. “It’s okay if you don’t want me again. I just needed to tell you I miss you. Ever since we broke up, I realized how much of an impact you made on me.” He repeats.

“Ok.”

“Do you miss me?” His mouth pouts as he watches her. “Have you ever?”

“Of course I did Harry. I loved you.”

“Wait a minute. You don’t love me anymore?” Harry was quite offended to hear that from her.

 “What? No… it’s complicated. I can’t describe it.”

“You either love me or you don’t.”

“I’m trying to move on. Why can’t you let me? You don’t seem to love me back anyway!”

Silence.

"Letting you go was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do” He admits to her., letting his confession easily slip through his lips.

“Resisting you was harder yet I failed.”

-

After their conversation, Harry left Y/N’s room to get some sleep. Although he approached her with the main goal of receiving closure he realized that his true main reason was to win her back. Maybe it was because of this Elliot guy but Harry couldn't imagine her with someone else. It made him drown in jealousy and sadness -A feeling that his lover knew all too well. That night, he realized he couldn’t have what he wanted. He’s confused about his feelings and how he could win back Y/N. 

“Thank you for meeting with me.” Harry lays his head on his mum’s couch as she sits in front of him. Today was their last day in London since tomorrow morning they were going to the airport. Harry knew he had to visit his mum and ask for advice since he needed someone to talk to.

“You’re my son. Of course Harry. What are you saying?”

“I don’t know.” he closes his eyes as he explains everything to his mother. He began with the cold turn of his marriage and later on shared his affair with Y/N and how confused he’s feeling right now.

\\

“For god’s sake. I can’t believe you.” Anne expresses her disappointment. “Harry, I’m not proud of you cheating. I never thought you would do this. Now you-”

“I think I love Y/N.” Harry interrupts her as he rubs his hands on his thighs. Anne lets out a sigh but displays an understanding look.

“If you love her, you’d be willing to compromise and fix things to make her happy. She’s right you know? Why are you still tied up to that other woman if she barely acknowledges you? You never told me about this.”

“Because I don’t want you to worry mum.” He looks at her and rests his elbows on his thighs. “I thought the whole marriage thing would fade away since I’m barely in it. I just thought everything would slowly change and I’d be back to who I was before I became a husband. I was hurt when she became cold to me but I slowly just forgot about her and went on with my day. I was only seeing her 5 times a day and I was starting to be okay with that but whenever someone would ask me something about her or I’m at an event, I realize I’m married. I made promises that I barely kept.”

“She never kept them either.”

“I know. Our marriage was over years ago before we truly started. I just -I don’t want to have a divorce like you and dad. I know you might be offended but I cried my heart out when you told me and Gem you two were splitting up. I promised myself I would never do that.”

“You were 8 Harry. You didn’t understand how love and marriage were so complex. Your father and I just didn’t work but that doesn’t mean I can’t find another person and have that life I always imagined. Rob was that man for me. I think you’re thinking about everything a little bit too hard that you don’t even realize the girl you love is slipping through your fingertips.”

She’s right.

“I’m scared that she won’t be happy with me after I change everything for her. I’m scared she’ll be just like the other woman I married.”

“You can’t let that stop you. It’s unfair for the two of you. You need to fight for her. And don’t think I’m encouraging you and your cheating but I want you to be happy and if that’s with her. I’m okay with that.”

“I need to talk to her.”

~

It was around 6 PM by the time Harry came home. He barely parked his car into his garage as he entered the house. He noticed Emily was just about to leave.

“Harry! Our interview went great today.” Emily looks up after rummaging in her purse. “Why are you in such a rush?”

“I-um have to pee?” Harry’s cheeks turn red as he leans on the railway and slowly climbs the stairs.

“Oh go then! My uber is here. I forgot to buy some treats for my kids.”

“Oh okay. Is uh Y/N here?” He bites his lip as he watches Emily walk to the front door.

“Yeah, she’s packing. She finished her marketing meeting for your shop like an hour ago.”

“K, thanks. See you tonight.” And with that, Harry jogged up the stairs to go to her room.

Knock… knock…

Deja-vu hits Y/N as she opens her door and sees Harry standing behind it. “Hi, you’re here again. The most I’ve spoken to you after the last three months.” Harry says nothing as he steps inside the room and closes the door.

“I’m leaving her.” He blurts out. He glances at her cozy outfit and her messy room before looking at her again.

“Oh.” Y/N’s eyes widen but she turns around and continues to fold her clothes into her luggage. “That’s a good decision to make. What made you change your mind?”

“You.”

“Harry, We were together for a year and you still didn’t want to leave her.” She sits on her bed and gives him a knowing look. “What made you change your mind?” She repeats.

“Um, I’ll share it with you. When I was eight, my parents divorced. After that, I promised myself I would take love and marriage so seriously -There would only be one person meant for me.”

“I never knew that. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was scared to be vulnerable with you.” 

“But you opened up so easily to me about who you were. I just never knew this side of you.”

“I know.” Harry clears his throat and walks towards her. “It’s stupid to think about that rule I made to heart when I was younger. Things are different and I have you or at least I want you.” He closes his eyes for a brief second.. “I spoke to my mum and she told me you‘re right.”

“I know I am.” Y/N lets out a small laugh. 

“I just needed someone other than you to tell me it was okay to leave her. I know she and I aren’t even really together but everyone we know thinks we are.”

“Oh.”

“Look I’m sorry that I make things harder for us. I hated talking about the consequences of our relationship because it made me feel guilty and you don’t deserve to be the reason why. You make me so happy and I- I never took into account how truly you felt about our relationship. I continued to put you in a position you didn’t want to be in.”

“Thank you, Harry.” Y/N purses her lips and looks at him, “Even though you were a total ass after our break up you know I still love you. I’ll love you for the rest of my life. Even if you don’t love me back, and even if we both move on, there will always be a part of me that will always love you no matter what.” 

“Y/N I made myself promise that I would only love one woman and I never really thought about loving you when we were together. Maybe because it was so natural, the feeling went straight to my heart and I never thought about it. B seeing you at work yet feeling so distant from you and our relationship made me recognize how serious I was about you. With that, my wife never made me feel the way I’m with you. You taught me things to make me a better person. She’s different from who I fell in love with before and that’s okay because I’m different too now. ”

“So you aren’t just bluffing. You’re going to leave her. Not just for me but for you too?”

“Yes, I’m doing it for us.” He smirks at her and rests his hands on her waist. “I don’t know why I was stalling.”

“Well, now you’re here.” Y/N smiles as she reaches out to him. “I miss you.” She immediately kisses him as his hands intertwine with her hair, making him desperately kiss her back. 

“I miss you too baby.” He pushes her down gently on the bed as he carries her clothes off the bed and onto the bed. “I don’t know if I want to make love to you or fuck you so hard because I miss you.”

“Just do both. Over and over again.” Y/N whispers as she unzips her hoodie and takes off her shorts, leaving her in just her underwear. Harry locks her door and returns back as he quickly takes his shirt off. 

“Fuck you look so beautiful. My sweet angel. I can’t believe I had to lose you for a while.” He eyes her greedily before leaning down to leave soft kisses down her chest. His hands pull her down the bed and spread her legs open as his mouth continues to go south. “You don’t know how many times I thought about just fucking you over the desk at your work.”

“You barely spoke to me.” Y/N laughs as she watches Harry kneel on the floor. She quickly shuts up, however,  as she feels his hot mouth teasing her covered wet center.

 “Didn’t change the fact I had sleepless nights craving your body and needing your cuddles.” His cheeks turn red.

“What else did you want to do then.” Y/N takes her bra off and lets her fingers tug his hair. She was impatient, was it obvious? Both of them only had their hands to keep them happy.

 “Last month when I screamed at you in the meeting about merch prices, I was so hard because of your unbuttoned blouse. I couldn’t focus and I needed you out of the room.”

“I wasn’t even doing-”

“You were staring at me and rolling your eyes baby. I know my bad girl when she’s mad. I was so tempted to just pull you by your hair and make you suck my dick.”

“Then let me suck you off now.”

“Nuh, It’s about you,”Harry mumbles and kisses her inner thigh before ripping her thin underwear apart. “Fuck, so wet. I missed the way you taste baby.” Harry immediately dives in, letting his mouth suck on her clit as his fingers dance their way to her needy core.

“Har-”

“Call me what you want to call me.” Harry looks at her as his mouth bites and sucks on her thighs.

 “Daddy.” She moans out as his fingers quicken their pace. Her hands holding onto his hair as his mouth greedily attacked her. Licking and sucking without any mercy.

“Play with your titties baby while you watch me fuck you with my fingers.” He instructs as Y/N holds herself with one arm and plays with her boob with the other. 

“You make me feel so good. Oh my god.” Harry quickens his pace as he spits on her center, making him watch his saliva drip down to the sheets. 

“Turn around.” He helps her into the position before slapping her butt cheek. “Guess I’m going to fuck you first.”

“I need you so badly. Fuck, you ruined me for any other guy out there.” Y/N rests her head on the mattress as she feels him tease her centre. His pants were half off since he was too focused on his girl.

“So no boyfriends these past couple months.”

“No.”

“What about Elliot?”“

I was just starting to talk-” Harry inserts himself in. His hands tightly holding onto her waist. 

“You’re going to stop talking to him right? Cuz you’re mine.”

“Mhm…” Y/N turns herself around after a couple of thrusts, making her look directly at him. “Have you been uh seeing any-?” 

“No. Couldn’t get my mind off you and I just wanted your company.”“

Oh fuck, harder.” Her eyes roll back as Harry hits her most sensitive spot. His hand rests on her stomach as the other wondered around her body. 

“You’re so good for me baby.” He grunts as he leans down to kiss her. 

“Fuck, I’m going to come.”

“Just let go, it’s alright love, I'm here.” Harry softly reassures her with his hand wrapped around her neck.

So, this is what it feels like to be in heaven? Y/N thinks to herself as she finally reaches her high. Harry quickened his pace and by the time, he knows it -he spills his seed right inside of her.

“I love you Y/N.”

~

The trio was now back in America as they stood outside of LAX. Emily was in the car talking to her husband while Harry and Y/N decided to stay outside and talk. They were still waiting for the airport’s security to lead them out of the lot since there were paparazzi outside of this VIP parking area they were in.

“Do you think soulmates are real?” Y/N asks Harry. They stood 5 feet apart, both resting their backs on the car. They were acting as colleagues, as friends -not lovers.

“Yes.” He glances at her through his shades. “No matter where we go or what happens, the universe would lead us back to each other.”

“Are you saying I’m your soulmate?” she sucks on her lollipop innocently as she smirks at him. Harry just smiles back and nods as he crosses his arms again. 

That’s cute.

“I’m happy I have you again.”

“You better not be a bitch to me when you visit the office.”

“Me? A bitch?” Harry laughs at her statement.

“You’re sassy! Why else do you think I angrily stare at you at work.”

“I know. It pained me to walk right past you the first day after our breakup.” Harry stares at the concrete wall in front of them. “Did you notice I was in the office more though? I kind of hated you but I had this constant need to see you all time. I even started bugging Marissa and Paul about the marketing contracts so I could work with you through lunches.”

“A simp.” Y/N laughs.

 “What’s that?”

“Nothing.” She laughs at how clueless he is.

“Your hands look cold. Mind if I warm them up.” Harry intently looked at her hands that seemed to be doing alright. 

“We’re in LA and you think I’m cold.” She gives him a funny glare.“Just accept my flirtatious attempt to hold your hand.”

“Emily is inside the car and there’s paparazzi outside.”

“And?” 

“You can’t just

“Thought you wanted physical proof we’re together. No one is going to see us.”

“Security camer-”

“Walk closer to me.” Harry interrupts her. She follows along and stands beside him. He secretly reaches behind them to grab her hand. Now they were holding hands but no one could see. 

“You’re cute y’know.”

“Thank you.” He smiles at her. 

“Well, I should go in the car. There’s AC.” Y/N laughs at his cute attempt. As she walks away, her hand is still intertwined with his leading him to quickly pull her into him so he can kiss her.

“Sorry I couldn't stop myself.” His eyes widen. 

They immediately pull away. Harry looks inside the car to see Emily talking on the phone looking outside the window towards the other way. Thank the lord, she didn’t see them.

“Mr. Styles, the security is outside already. We can go.”

~

“Harry!” Y/N yells out his name through the speaker.

“Hi baby, I just woke up.”

“You have to rea.. read the news.” She was crying so badly that she could barely breathe.

“Why? What happened?” 

“They know Harry. Everyone knows about us and Paul just called me in for a meeting.”

His heart was beating fast as he hung up the call without bidding her goodbye or comforting her. His wife was sleeping in the other room but he could already hear the vases and picture frames being thrown at the walls. 

TMZ

Harry Styles is Caught Cheating on His Wife With Mysterious Girl!!!

Daily mail

Harry Styles is a Womanizer!

People

Harry Styles’ mistress is Y/N L/N!!!

Hollywood Life

All About Harry Styles’ Affair with Columbia Records Employee!

part three ici

[haikyuuwaifu]

Trip

Reader x Keigo x Bakugo x Shinsou x Shoto Poly

Warnings: Swearing

MASTERLIST

LOUIS VUITTON FIASCO

Y/N and Momo, but mostly Momo had decided that they would dedicate their last free day in the city to shopping. “It’s a celebratory shopping trip for finally getting the keys to the new shop!” Momo cheered, as the two friends made their way into the shopping center. “I mean, I was thinking of hookers and cocaine; but I guess blowing money is also fine.” Y/N declared snickering at the snort that came out of Momo’s nose. “Don’t even joke about something like that, Izuku would cry about it the whole time.” Momo huffed out as she and Y/N made their way to the Boba shop. 

A few hours into their shopping day, the two friends made their way around the massive shopping center, idly making conversation. “You know what!” Y/N exclaimed clutching Momo’s hand, “We need to go to Louis Vuitton! I think they’re new line is out and they have this wallet I’ve been eyeing for months.” and at break neck speed the two women booked it, to one of their favorite stores; only to be greeted by the sight of a chubby faced, short haired woman screeching at the sales person, who looked like she was going to cry. The woman was dressed in a pair of leggings, and a crop top. She had a pair of gucci sunglasses perched a top her head, and her nails looked newly manicured. From a distance, she looked like the rich bitch type; but growing up with Momo taught Y/N one thing; and that was how to tell the difference between a rich bitch and a fake hoe miles away. 

As the two women approached the store, they failed to noticed an angry looking man walking behind them, headed in the same direction. He was tall, with broad shoulders and spikey ash blond hair. The sides were faded extra short and the top was long. He had tattoos running down his arms and across his chest. The tank-top he was wearing under his flannel showed his back piece peeking if someone were to look hard enough. The snarl he made is what actually alerted Y/N to his presense behind her; and she swiftly tugged Momo out of his war path. Muttering an apology Bakugo proceeded towards the direction of the store, surprising both women when he stepped inside. 

Inside the store, Katsuki was standing behind his girlfriend as he listened to her scream and yell at the salesperson about whatever dumbass reason she was yelling. Honestly he didn’t give a shit; didn’t even want to fucking come on his only day off this week, but what the fuck ever. As he half listened to her ranting, the front entrance dinged notifying the store that another customer had entered. “I-I’ll be with you ladies in a moment.” the store clerk had stuttered out; as Ochaco continued to rant and rave. “Oh don’t you worry sweetie; we can wait for you to finish with that unruly customer.” one of the women murmured smiling softly. The woman next to her cackled, and it brought a small smirk to Katsuki’s face. “Just say it Momo, a circus is missing it’s prized banshee.” At the sound of the insult, Ochaco whipped her head around; ready to yell when she was met with the site of not one, but two alpha women. A part of her wanted to shrink back, she had never had the nerve to deal with two of them; but most of her was going to put these bitches in their place. Before she could though, one of them had stepped away to look around. “I’ll leave this for you Y/N, I’m going to see those wallets you were talking about.” Momo whispered as she turned and made her way to the wall on the other side of the store. 

Uraraka smiled internally pleased to be left with who she presumed as the more docile of the two women. Y/N looked at the other woman, eyes narrowing slightly. “Are you alright miss?” Y/N asked the sales clerk, as she moved around the other woman. The clerk, nodded slightly eyes filled with unshed tears. Y/N pulled the shorter woman in for a hug and patted her back softly “It’s alright, I’ll deal with this; can you do me a favor and grab me some of these?” she asked, showing the clerk exactly what she was looking for. Nodding slightly, the sales woman answered, “I’ll be sure to get those right away ma’am.” As she turned to go to the back, Ochaco reached her hand out only for it to be stopped by Y/N. “I don’t think so chubs; you and I are going to have a discussion about how to treat retail workers.” 

“How I treat the help is none of your business.” Ochaco snarled, crossing her arms over her chest. “Aren’t retail worker supposed to stick together?” Y/N asked, looking down at her nails in disinterest. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?” as the two women are interacting, Katsuki is silently taking this scene in. In most cases, he’d deal with it himself; but Uraraka fucked herself this time. He knew she was in the wrong; and he was going to let her deal with the repercussions for it. “You think, I can’t tell that you work in a department store?” Y/N asked looking the other woman up and down. She laughed slightly at the way the short haired girl puffed her cheeks. “Let me guess, you’re a part time cashier in a department store; and then you have a small youtube channel about “fitness”” Y/N asked air quoting the word fitness. Beside them Katsuki snickered. “Babe, you’re supposed to be in my corner!” Uraraka snarled facing her boyfriend. “Kind of hard to do when she’s got you pegged cheeks; and she’s right, you shouldn’t be talking to that woman that way.” Katsuki grumbled out. Y/N chose to ignore the shot of lust that went straight to her pussy at the sound of his voice. 

As Ochaco moved to say something, the clerk had returned with the items Y/N had asked for. “Here’s everything you requested miss, and you’re in luck; this is the last wallet until we restock next month.” the clerk smiled eyes shining with veiled pettiness at the fact that the short haired woman wouldn’t get what she came in there screaming for. “You fucking told me you were sold out!” Ochaco screeched ready to lunge at the sales clerk. “I never said that ma’am. I said I’d have to go back and check; you would have known that had you bothered to shut your mouth and listen.” the clerk stated narrowing her eyes slightly. “Tell her girl! Go on!” Y/N stated, sifting through the wallet pockets. On the other end of the store Momo was cackling quietly as well as updating the GC of the days current events. “Do you know who the fuck i am?! Who the fuck my boyfriend is? He’ll fucking crush you!” Uraraka screeched, slamming her fists on the glass. “Sir, I think it’s time you take your child home. She’ll no longer be allowed to shop here.” the clerk stated sternly towards Katsuki. “Fucking christ cheeks; it’s a stupid fucking wallet and it was probably too damn expensive anyway.” he grumbled, trying to drag her out of the store. “It was only 1500 Katsuki, and you promised you’d buy it for me!” she screeched out latching onto the counter top. Katsuki let out a snort of disbelief, “You must be fucking crazy if you think I’m going to shell out 1500 dollars for a fucking wallet you’re only buying for the aesthetic.” He snarled out unlatching her hands from the counter top. “Now let’s fucking go.” As he made his way towards the exit Y/N waved her black card in front of Ochaco’s face; “I’ll take two of everything to make up for that shitty customer. You get paid based on commission right?” Y/N asked cheekily, and all that could be heard through the shopping center was an enraged Uraraka Ochaco and a swearing Katsuki Bakugo.

“I don’t know what the fuck is in Tokyo water, but the men here are sexy and the women here suck.” Y/N mumbled to Momo as the two made their way to the parking lot. To their surprise, Katsuki was out there sitting on the hood of his car; seemingly waiting for them. “I uh...I wanted to apologize for my girlfriends shit behavior.” he mumbled out scratching the back of his neck as he cast his eyes down to the ground. Y/N stepped forward and titled his chin up with her index finger. “You’re a fucking king, so fucking act like it; and don’t go apologizing for her shitty behavior. She’s an adult, and she should take responsibility for her own actions.” Y/N huffed out a pretty smile stretching over her features. Booping his nose, she giggled at the way his cheeks flushed and waved as she walked passed him. “See you around King!” she called behind her as she and Momo made their way towards the car, Katsuki watching them a shocked look on his face.

That night, Katsuki was in his apartment alone, as Uraraka was still pissed with him; so she had opted to stay with Camie for a while. He spent that evening playing over Y/N’s words and continued to do so into the following morning.

-Katsuki and Uraraka have been together for 10 years. In the beginning of their relationship Katsuki was very outspoken and he didn’t let anyone treat him any kind of way. As the relationship progressed Izuku and Denki could see that the Katsuki he was acting like wasn’t the Katsuki they really knew. Being with Ochaco made him soft, in the ways that he shouldn’t have been; and she’s spent the last number of years walking all over him. Y/N could tell what kind of person he should have been and she hoped her reminder that he was more than he was being treated stuck; and it did. 

-That following Monday showed a bit of the old Katsuki, and it started with him NOT paying Ochaco’s bills anymore.

@dabilove27​ @ouijaeater15​ @kit-kat428​ @lia-faerie-queen​ @stickystrawberrysyrup​ @mushimoon14​ @iloveyouasmuchaspoohloveshoney​ @patricia-ceballos​ @starrygoblin​ @cathy8taffy​ @moon-spirit-yue​ @eraser-baby​ @yafriendlyfangirl​ @ditu-m9​ @loverofallthingsfoxy​ @percabethismyotp14​ @alorathebear​

[backalley-requests]

The Proposal | Chapter Two

The Proposal Masterlist

Summary: The Proposal™ au, where Ivar gets swept away in a lie about a fake engagement to stay in the country and needs to convince everyone (including his family) that he’s genuinely engaged to a woman he works with

Warnings: Mild swearing, dickish behavior

Word Count: 2,085

That’s how you found yourself sitting down for a meeting next to your boss, pretending the two of you were in love and set to get married. You were more outwardly nervous than him and your leg was bouncing. It made a quiet but consistant tap on the floor.

“Will you cut that out,” Ivar snapped.

You stopped bouncing your foot and glared at him. “I’m nervous.” It wasn’t a voluntary action but it helped with the nerves. Your head tilted up to the ceiling. The office was small and the two of you sat in chairs next to each other. Across from you was an empty desk. The case worker wasn’t here yet. Was this normal? It was 10 am but felt much earlier, and the silence was so loud. The two of you never had normal conversations.

“Don’t be, it’s annoying.”

Did he expect you to remain a calm worker under these conditions? It wasn’t like he could fire you. Both of you risked losing if you didn’t stick around. It felt like a sick game of chicken. “How can I not be? We’re here because you—“

The conversation was cut short by the metal door opening. It felt like a prison, as if the two of you were being detained and Ivar didn’t even want to discuss a game plan. He had actually rolled his eyes when you asked for one.

The man was dressed in a black suit and tie, his hair was short and his face shaven. “Shall we begin?” He lacked pleasantries and it only added to your growing paranoia. There was no handshake or introduction. The man jumped into it. Immediately you felt yourself zoning in and out. Half the time you were thinking too much to listen and the other half was spent committing it to memory.

Ivar nodded confidently, evening out to a neutral. How were you supposed to project that same level of confidence? He appeared so unbothered and you stuck out like a sore thumb. The interviewer took notice. “Step one will be a scheduled interview and I’ll ask you every little question a real couple would know about each other.”

That was easy. You already knew way too much about the man. He shoved off too much personal responsibilities onto you that he didn’t want to do. You even wrote his Christmas cards at this point.

“Step two, I dig deeper, I look at your phone records, I talk to your neighbors, interview your coworker.”

The two of you didn’t have a story. The two of you communicated often for work but they weren’t out to anyone. Well— technically the two of you didn’t have a relationship to be out about. You glance over at Ivar who didn’t bother to look back at you. He seemed so eerily calm while all you could do was panic.

You were pretty sure you missed something important by the time you glanced back to the interviewer. Did you miss his name? Did he even offer one? Your leg began to bounce again.

“If your answers don’t match up at every point. You will be deported indefinitely,” he looked at Ivar, “and you will have committed a felony. Punishable by a fine of 250,000 dollars and a stay of 5 years in federal prison.” His gaze turned to you and you froze.

The sound of your heart beating drowned out whatever the man said next. It didn’t take long for both men to notice. You were in too deep. You couldn’t do this! Why did you even bother agreeing?

“Y/N?” The interviewer asked.

You couldn’t handle prison. You never even got into a fight before in your life. You’ve seen prison shows, they’re always fighting. They’d eat you alive.

“Y/N, do you want to talk to me?”

Ivar elbowed you harsh but discreetly. His blue eyes were intense and it brought you back to your reality. You had already spent three years working for him. Another two at the company. Being fired wasn’t an option and you’ve been dying to get promoted since you came there. If you could pull it off... what’s three years on paper? You blinked and nodded your head.

“You do?”

“Wait no— I mean I don’t.” You took a deep breath and held it. This man had to see right through it from the moment he walked in.

“The truth is…” you glanced at Ivar, “we’re just two people who weren’t meant to fall in love. But we did. Six months ago. We weren’t going to come out to our coworkers, not until we didn’t think they’d judge us,” your face was red and you found yourself staring down into your lap as you played with your fingers. “Especially with my promotion coming up.”

You paused, trying to see if what you said convinced him at all. “So, have either of you told your parents about your… secret love?” The interviewer wrote down notes onto a notepad.

“Oh, um, impossible. My parents are dead,” you admitted casually with an awkward laugh. “No brothers or sisters either. You can check if you want—“

“I will.”

The silence was deafening.

“What about you, Ivar? Are yours dead?”

Ivar scoffed at the mention of his family. It was clear to you that on some level he truly thought he was above being here. How could he be so casual?

You decided to cut in, “no. We were going to tell them this weekend. It’s his father’s birthday. The whole family is coming together. We thought it’d be a nice surprise.”

Once the lies began it was hard to stop them. But the event was true but Ivar’s attendance wasn’t. He had you tell them he wasn’t going. But as you spoke you got more confident.

“And where exactly is this going to take place?” The man was quizzing you.

“Aalborg, Denmark. It’s located along Kattegat Bay,” you replied. Ivar’s face twitched in surprise that you knew it at all. Your face never quite calmed down and kept a pinkish hue.

The interviewer stared intently at you, searching for signs.

“That’s right,” Ivar cut in, trying to save you.

“Isn’t Denmark a little far?”

“Well it’s not like I have a visa to lose at this point,” Ivar rolled his eyes.

The interviewer shrugged. “Next Friday at 10am, I expect you both to be here for the scheduled interviews.”

—

“What was your fucking problem? You may as well have worn a sign that we’re trying to commit a felony?”

You were floored. Did he actually want to start things off like this. “Like you were much better? You looked pissed off and detached! If you wanted better results maybe you should’ve interjected more.”

“It was fun to watch you flounder until I realized your actions have consequences,” he shrugged casually. What was wrong with him? “And now Mr. Harold Millington is going to be lurking through my family.” Oh that’s what the man’s name was. Had it shared that? Did you actually miss it?

“Just tell your family then. Have them lie.” If they were anything like Ivar then being manipulative should be in their nature.

Ivar rubbed the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath. “They wouldn’t agree to it.” It meant they had to go. That created the new fact that you had sentenced the both of them on a trip to Denmark. It was that or he gets sent home forever and you’re in federal prison. “How did you even know that?”

“Know what?”

“About my father’s birthday.”

“You had me send them condolences,” you crossed your arms over your chest and rolled your eyes. “I actually know a ton of things about you. It’s you who has a week to learn everything about me.”

He stood before you in his bitterness. He didn’t deny your statement. It was one thing to have marriage papers and never speak of it again for three years and another to pretend to his family that he was in an actual relationship. His mor had wanted it forever now. “Book the flights, since you’re so used to doing everything for me.”

You had a laundry list of people to contact and he expected you to book flights? Your gut instinct was to tell everyone the truth and convince them to lie to the authorities, but that seemed a little much to ask. “It’s your home, why don’t you book them?”

The two of you continued to bicker when the interviewer from earlier stepped out of the building. The two of you immediately silenced as Millington walked by, “remember. Deportation and federal prison. It’s not too late to come clean.”

The smug look on his face pissed you off. You watched the man walk further away and down the block. “I may not like you, Ivar, but I like you more than that guy,” you said bitterly as your eyes remained trained on the agent in the distance.

“At least we agree on that.”

“I want him to feel like a moron.”

“So then let’s do that,” Ivar’s words caught your attention as you glanced back to him. “He knows the truth but if we make it rock solid he’ll have no choice. It’ll drive him insane.”

You laughed, “I probably should’ve guessed your favorite pass time was belittling people and making them regret their life choices.”

“I liked you better when you just delivered coffee,” Ivar responded. The same anger from earlier was gone but that didn’t stop Ivar from starting to walk away from you. You were left standing, irrationally angry at that decision. Civilities were out the window. He had nothing over you anymore. Neither could pull the plug. And he’s been on your nerves for a while. How did you ever find that man attractive?

“Goodbye to you too, asshole!”

—

“I’m coming back for the week,” Ivar held the phone to his ear, waiting for his mother’s response. If he was being honest he was actually a little nervous about it. He actually loved his mother. The rest of them were hit or miss. But he hadn’t been back home in a long time.

“Really?”

The excitement in her voice got to him, not that he’d confess it. “I was going to introduce my girlfriend to you guys.” He hated lying.

“You have a girlfriend?” He hadn’t even mentioned the idea of one to her in forever. Not since he left Denmark for the last time. She’d been pestering forever. “Since when did you get a girlfriend?”

“Mor—“ he took a deep breath and sighed, “she works for me.”

“Oh— so it’s one of those situations.”

Was she judging him already? “Just be prepared for her.” He noticed the dip in her voice and he bit hard on his bottom lip.

“Your father is going to be so happy to have you home.” Aslaug started to talk more about it. He was surprised she wasn’t fuming at the mention of his old man. It occurred to him then that maybe his family missed him more than he realized. She was already making plans, doting on him for finding someone and talking about how relieved she is that her son found someone. “Hey Ivar— is she beautiful?” He was brought out of his thoughts by the question.

Were you? He already knew the answer. You were. It wasn’t a crazy thought. Ivar always thought you were beautiful. From the moment you walked into his office the first day holding a cup of his favorite coffee— how you ever found out before meeting him he’ll never know. It’s what told him you were beyond him. There was a hint of too much perfection that he had immediately felt anger. That anger eventually settled to annoyance.

But if he actually hated you he probably would’ve fired you by now. The issue is that you’d never genuinely go for him. He had his own love life of sorts, money speaks for itself, he could get laid. What he couldn’t get was more, who would genuinely date him? It was easier to resent than pine.

“Yes.”

Aslaug laughed on the other end, “you took a little long there to respond, Ivar.”

“Sorry— she is, mor, I’m just busy with some work. I’ll call you before the plane leaves.”

“Please do. Oh, and Ivar, dear. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

—

Taglist** @youbloodymadgenius

[mdemontespan1667]

THE FLIP SIDE

READER GETS MORE THAN SHE PAID FOR ON HALLOWEEN

ROBERT PRONGE X READER / ROBERT PRONGE X READER X CLAY APPUZZO

WARNINGS WARNINGS WARNINGS WARNINGS 

NON-CON / DRUG USE / VIOLENCE / GORE / VAGINAL, ORAL AND ANAL SEX / NON-CON / BLOOD USE DURING SEX / MENTIONS OF DEATH / NON-CON / USE OF FORCE FOR SEX / ANAL SEX / THIS IS DARK AF / DO NOT READ IF ANY OF THE ABOVE OFFENDS YOU / I’M NOT KIDDING THIS IS SUPER DARK / NON-CON/ THREESOME

18+ ONLY

THIS IS FOR MY QUEEN @jtargaryen18​ HAUNTED HOUSE CHALLENGE. I HAVEN’T FINISHED WRITING ANYTHING IN MONTHS SO HOPEFULLY THIS ISN’T MULE PUKE. I KINDA PROOFREAD IT SO PLEASE EXCUSE THE MISTAKES. I WANTED TO GET IT POSTED BEFORE I CHANGED MY MIND.

I ALSO HAVE TO GIVE A BIG SHOUT OUT TO @jtargaryen18​ AGAIN. WITHOUT HER SERIES PRETTY BABY THIS WOUDN’T EXIST. (I spent 20 minutes trying to figure out how to link it but I’m an idiot. You can find it in her MASTERLIST.)

“FUCK! Move it you goddamn moron. It’s the little skinny pedal on the right!”

You punctuated the tirade by smacking your hands on the steering wheel. 

If you were late because this fucking asshole couldn’t figure out how to fucking drive your wrath would blanket the Earth in pain and fire.

“Ok,” you thought to yourself, “that’s a bit much. Calm your ass down.”

Pulling in a deep breath you tried to relax but a quick check of your phone destroyed whatever miniscule inner peace you had found. 

11:30pm

If you didn’t get to the warehouse in 30 minutes you had not only cleared out your savings account for nothing but, much much more importantly, you would lose your one and only chance to mingle with THE Chris Evans.

Every year the abandoned warehouses in the now shuttered manufacturing district hosted haunted attractions. Local legends about murdered seamstresses or deranged psycho killers were the usual fare. You and your friends went every year even though you spent more time laughing than screaming. 

Tonight was different. The city was hellbent on revitalizing the area. However, tax increases had been voted down and the regular historical foundation fundraisers weren’t working. 

Miraculously someone on the Mayor’s staff’s husband’s second cousin’s uncle’s first wife knew someone who knew someone else who knew Chris. Somehow he had been convinced to do a one night only completely immersive Halloween event. 

By a unanimous vote it was decided that The Hitman would be perfect for the evening considering the city’s history. The promo material promised over 8,000 square feet of mafia-style murder, mayham, blood and guts all set to a 70’s backdrop.

So you’d drained your savings for the ticket and maxed out every credit card. There was no way in hell you were missing this.

11:40pm

“Dammit.”

This was all Chloe’s fault. She had called off sick this morning (you knew damn good and well she wasn’t sick. Bitch had drunk texted you at 3am) leaving you with all the prep work that the night shift had neglected to finish.

Gretchen wasn’t able to get in until noon. By that time you were so far in the weeds it would’ve taken a lawnmower the size of a tank to get you out. When the two of you had finished the prep for night shift you were already an hour behind. You had barely had time to shower and get ready.

Turning off the Interstate you sighed.

That wasn’t entirely true. 

What should’ve been a quick shower had turned into a steamy self love session. 

Just thinking about Chris with that long hair and that dangerous “fuck me” swagger had your hand moving south. 

Between one set of fingers working your clit and the other set rolling your nipples it wasn’t long before you were leaning back against the cool tiles panting. 

Finished with what you hoped was a little pregaming you had taken an hour to carefully apply the shimmering pale lavender eyeshadow, rosy blush and frosted peach lipstick. The low cut gold lame halter dress and strappy black stiletto heels completed the look. 

And, yes, you might have spent more than a few minutes admiring the way the thin fabric alternatively skimmed and hugged your body in all the right places. Your still hardened nipples just added to the look.

11:50pm

 You were here. 

Stepping out of your car the valet rolled his eyes.

“I know, I know I’m late.”

“Ten more minutes and the doors would’ve been closed for the night,” the valet huffed.

“I’m really sorry.”

You dug in your purse, grabbing a twenty.

“There’s another fifty if you can park me close.”

With a lecherous smile the valet took your keys, headed for your car. 

Taking a deep breath you opened the heavy steel door.

Your senses were immediately assaulted. 

Body odor, cheap perfume and stall cologne hung heavy in the air. 

A small disco ball attached to the ceiling reflected the dim lighting, cigarette smoke swirling.

“Hey!”

A meaty, sweat stained hand grabbed your upper arm.

“You’re fucking late bitch.”

Taken aback by the man you could only stutter.

“I’m sorry, I…….”

SMACK

Your head snapped to the side.

“I don’t give a fuck if you’re sorry. When I tell you to be somewhere at a certain time I fucking mean it. This guy is a heavy hitter and I promised him a prime piece of ass for the evening. If you fuck this up I’ll have you on your knees sucking dick at ten bucks a pop for the next year.”

Getting a good look at the balding, pot bellied man who had hit you fear spread through you.  

Jerking your arm away you went off on him.

“What the hell are you doing. I know this is supposed to be realistic but getting hit wasn’t on the release form.”

The man hit you again, this time knocking you to the floor. You looked around for help. However no one took any notice. 

Reaching down he dug his hands into your hair, hauling you up. As he wrested you toward the dance floor the sharp staccato of a car’s horn drew your attention. 

Before the door shut you caught a glimpse of a dimly lit street, vintage cars and a smattering of people dressed similar to you. 

The rotting warehouses were gone. 

You didn’t have time to contemplate what you had seen before you were being roughly pulled through the crush of dancers writhing to Ballroom Blitz. 

Your “guide” stopped just short of a  dark corner booth. 

“I need this deal to happen so you do whatever the man wants.”

You peered down at the table. It was littered with highball glasses filled with various quantities of melting ice and, from the smell of it, Crown Royal. Thick white stripes of cocaine were laid out like fenceposts.

“Look who finally showed up. Sorry, she wanted to make sure she looked extra sexy for you.”

A man bent over the lines, snorted it then looked up pinching the end of his nose. He traced his finger across the powder remnants, rubbing the residue across his gums.

“Fuck. She is a tasty piece isn’t she.”

 At that moment a flash of light from the disco ball illuminated his face. 

You found yourself staring into the cold blue eyes of Robert Pronge. 

No, you corrected yourself, not Robert, it was Chris. 

Except that wasn’t quite right either. 

You tried to pass it off as just good acting but something was wrong. 

Very wrong. 

A quick glance around only heightened your unease. 

It was all a little too perfect. 

The club looked aged. The carpeted floor was worn through in places, hopelessly stained in others. Behind the bar the mirror was gray at the edges, coated with decades of smoke. 

Your fellow “guests” seemed jagged and rough, their clothes and faces well worn.

But the biggest red flag was the smell. All the old warehouses invariably held the aroma of grease and oil the now gone machines had bled. Your friends used to call it Haunted House #5. 

Robert broke your revere by pulling you onto his lap.

“Wait, I’m not sure….”

“Not sure what baby.”

His attention turned to the other man who had taken a seat at the booth.

“I thought you said she’d be ready to go Preston. If you don’t want me to do the job I’m sure you can find someone else.”

The man you now knew as Preston answered in a rush.

“No, no , she’s ready.”

He pinched your arm.

“Tell him your ready sweetheart”

You shook your head.

“No, somethings wrong. I….”

Robert leaned into you. 

“I’ve been rude baby.”

His breath was fetid, a combination of cigarettes and whiskey.

“Here,” he brought a glass filled to the brim to your lips, “I started the party without you.”

Gripping your jaw he forced your mouth open, pouring the burning liquid down your throat. 

Preston smirked as you sputtered and coughed. 

“Uh Robert, you mind if I take a bump.”

Robert handed a rolled up one hundred dollar bill to the odious man. 

Preston chose the biggest line. When he finished he handed the bill back.

“Maybe your plaything needs one too. Get her motor running real good.”

Robert tried to place the bill in your hand.

“Uh no. Really I can’t.”

You figured the chances it was really coke were slim but things were spinning out of control. No need to tempt fate.

“It wasn’t a request.”

Robert stuck the bill in your nostril. He bent your head down to the table. 

“Go on,” he whispered, “It’ll feel good.”

With no alternative you sucked the white powder up your nose.

The burn was immediate. You shook your head and tried to clear it.

“Good girl. Now we can really start the party.”

Robert reached down, popped the button and unzipped his pants. He guided your hand to his massive hard on. You pulled your hand back like you had touched fire. 

His hand seized you by the throat.

“I was promised a good time. As far as I’m concerned you’ve got some lost time to make up for.”

He guided your hand back, covering your hand with his.

“See,” Robert used your hand to pump his cock up and down, “It’s easy.”

When he removed his hand your movement was sporadic.

His hand tightened around your throat.

“I know you can do better than this baby.”

Afraid to refuse you evened out your strokes, swiping across the head to gather the pre-cum that had formed. His hand dropped away from your throat.

As you jacked Robert off under the table he and Preston continued speaking. You tried to pay attention but it seemed to be all code words and gibberish. 

“Fuck baby, this ain’t working.”

Robert pushed the table back a few inches.

“Time to really earn your pay. On your knees.”

Your mouth dropped open in shock.

“What. No. This, This has gone way too far.”

Standing to leave, he snatched you by the waist. Gripping you by the back of the neck he forced you down on the carpet. He yanked you between his legs, crossing them behind you. 

“Open your pretty little mouth.”

“No,” you shook your head vehemently.

Sighing Robert slid his hand under your dress. He cruelly took a hold of your breast and squeezed. The pain finally became too much and you opened your mouth to scream. He took full advantage, shoving his cock into your mouth. The bunched up fabric of his pants kept you from taking his full length. 

Your relief was short lived. One handedly he maneuvered his pants lower. One push and your face was impaled on his cock, the tip pushing deep into your throat. 

You choked, his pubic hair catching the tears that had started to fall. 

Letting go of your neck he hooked his hand into the front of your hair, lifting your head just enough to see him.

“If you’re a good little whore I’ll let you do it yourself.”

He pressed your face down again, holding it until you were slapping at his legs. 

Lifting your head he spoke again.

“But if you’re not I’ll fuck your face until your throat bleeds and I won’t give a damn if you can’t breath. I’ll shoot my cum down your dead throat. Do you understand.”

You weren’t sure if it was the terror or your sense of self preservation  that had you nodding your head.

Robert smiled and picked up his glass. He swirled the amber contents, taking a sip.

“You better get started baby. I’m not a patient man.”

A chuckle drew your attention to Preston who sat watching intently. 

Trying your best to ignore him you placed your hands on Robert’s knees for balance and started bobbing your head.

Wanting it over you pulled out all the tricks you knew, hollowing your cheeks so you could take him deep, using your tongue for added friction.

After a few minutes he uncrossed his legs from behind you. He shoved one leg between yours. 

A low moan of shame formed as the tip of his booted foot slid easily across your pussy lips. 

“Baby likes it rough huh. I knew that bump would get your engine going.”

He used his other foot to push you down farther, spreading your legs.

“Fuck my shoe whore. It’s nice and dirty just like you.”

You rocked your hips, dragging your clit across the tip of his shoe, the slightly longer sole flicking your clit almost painfully. 

Moving back and forth your mouth and hips found their rhythm. The cocaine in your system had you whining, your body primed to cum. 

Abruptly Robert caught your head with both hands. His foot left your pussy as he mercilessly fucked your face. 

The thrusting of his hips wobbled the table knocking over the glasses, the alcohol spilling down your back. 

You felt his cock twitch a second before he came, his hot cum coating your throat. 

He rode out his orgasm then pressed your face hard into his crotch.

“Swallow every drop baby.”

Content that you  had followed his order he lifted you back up onto his lap. 

“Damn sweet thing, You’re a mess.”

Pointing towards a hallway he said, “Go clean yourself up. Bathroom is just down there.”

The eagerness to leave must have shown on your face.

“Oh no, we ain’t finished yet. The night’s just getting started. You got 15 minutes.”

In your haste to leave you tripped over his legs. You landed ass up on the table. He ran his hands between your legs, swiping through your slit. 

“Mmmmmm,” he brought his fingers to his mouth, licking them one by one.

“Poor cunt didn’t get hers did she. We’ll fix that when you get back.”

Slapping your ass Robert sniggered. 

“Clocks ticking.”

Regaining your footing your half walked, half ran toward the corridor. 

This was fucked up. Seriously fucked up. It was just supposed to be a meet and greet. How the hell had it gone off the rails. And what about those cars, the street, this place. 

Lost in your thoughts you missed the ladies room. Turning around to retrace your steps you gazed across the bar. Like a beacon in a storm an exit sign burned bright.

You had to check the urge to run. That would only draw attention. 

Instead you waited until you could blend in to a group of giggling women headed for the dance floor. 

As they branched off you made a run for it. 

You hit the exit door hard, damn near flying through it.

The parking lot you expected to find wasn’t there. Instead there was a dark alley. It smelled of garbage and urine. The air was full of exhaust. 

“What the fu….”

ZING

Something sticky and wet splattered your face, neck and upper body. Whatever it was dripped from your cheek. 

You stared at your hand and saw that it was covered in blood. You drew in air to scream but a hand slammed across your mouth.

“Jesus Christ Clay. This bastard was supposed to be dead an hour ago.”

“Lay off man. Traffic was a bitch.”

“Get him in the fucking van. We gotta get him to the loft. Preston wants proof in two hours.”

Watching the dark headed man throw the dead body into the van broke your shock. 

Crazily you struck out, kicking and frantically throwing your elbows. 

“Grab some rope Clay. Little whore here needs to be taught a lesson.”

Clay strutted back from the van.

“Thought we had a schedule to keep Freezy.”

He handed the rope to Robert. 

“What do we have here.”

The brunette lifted your chin. 

He looked familiar but you couldn’t place him. In a different time and place you would have found him attractive, maybe even vibrator worthy. A rush of slick flooded your pussy. 

“Hold her so I can tie her up.”

 You were pushed forward into Clay’s arms. 

Robert wrenched your arms back, wrapping the rope from your armpits to your wrists. 

“I don’t know what’s going on anymore but I swear I won’t say a thing if you let me go.”

You continued to ramble.

“Not a word. I’ll donate more money. I’ll leave a good review. I swear.”

Clay clenched his jaw.

“What the fuck is she talking about.”

“Who the fuck knows. Just shut her up.”

Clay thought for a minute then ran to the van. He returned with the dead man’s tie. Robert moved his hand and Clay showed the tie in your mouth.

Robert pulled up your dress. Unbuckling his pants again he pulled your back to his chest, holding you in place. 

“We ain’t got much time. You in or not.”

Clay’s hands worked his zipper down.

“Hell yes.”

He lifted your legs, wrapping them around his hips. You could feel him at your entrance. 

Running his finger across your cheek he painted your lips with the congealing blood. 

“Now you look like a good whore.”

Snapping his hips’ Clay was balls deep in one thrust.

“Damn Freezy, she’s tight as fuck. You been in this yet.”

“Not yet.”

Clay leaned in, licking the blood from your neck.

“Not like you to take sloppy seconds my man.”

“I’m getting something tighter.”

It took a minute for Robert’s meaning to filter in. You tried twisting away but the two men held you.

Clay yanked the tie from your mouth.

“Spit.”

When you refused he backhanded you.

“My good friend Robert is gonna fuck that nice ass of yours. If you don’t want him going in dry you better spit.”

You tried to spit but fear had dried your mouth. 

Clay shoved the tie back in and slid his hand across your chest gathering more blood. He ran the same hand through your slit.

“Fuck, whore’s wet as hell. It’s practically running down her legs.”

He massaged your slick and blood mixture around your tight ring pressing his thumb in and out.

“That’s enough. Hold her legs up. I’ll get in first then you can get in.”

Clay did as Robert said, holding your legs up and back. 

Robert aligned his cock with your hole and pushed in. 

The pain was excruciating. You weren’t an anal virgin but he hadn’t given you time to adjust. 

Clay moved closer, his erect cock glistening with your juices. 

He elevated your knees and thrust in.

They fucked you in tandem, pulling out and pushing in. 

You struggled against them both but it didn’t matter. 

Defeated you laid your head back on Robert’s shoulder, letting the men use you like a rag doll.

Robert came first. His cock went stiff and he bucked up into your ass. He pulled out, his cum dribbling down your ass. 

With Robert disengaged Clay took hold of your waist. His thrusts became deeper and harder.

“Play with her clit Clay. I promised her she’d get hers.”

Robert took over holding one of your legs up which freed one of Clay’s hands. He rubbed along your slit, settling next to your nub. His thumb circled it slowly. Your body trembled. Robert pulled the tie from your mouth.

“Ask for it baby. Ask and ye shall receive.”

“No, please, please….”

“She thinks she’s better than us Clay. Doesn’t want to admit that we can make her cum.”

“Too bad.”

Clay redoubled his efforts, assaulting your clit. The pleasure grew until he tipped you over the edge. Your hips bucked against him as you came. 

He followed a few minutes later. 

Both men dropped your legs. Too shaky to stand you fell to the ground. 

Robert pulled a gun from his ankle holster and pointed it at your head. 

“Wait Freezy.”

“Why. We’re done with her.”

“What if we keep her.”

“Why. She’s just a cheap piece of ass Clay. We can get a dozen just like her inside.”

“Yeah but we got her broke in. And we can do whatever we want. Noone is gonna care. The only person who knows you were with her is Preston. I can take him out easy.”

“Whatever we want huh,” Robert said.

“Yup. The possibilities are endless.”

“Alright. Get her in the van.”

Clay tossed your limp form into the van. Your head bounced off the van floor.

Before closing your eyes you heard the plaintive sound of Don Henley's voice:

Last thing I remember

I was running for the door

I had to find the passage back

To the place I was before

“Relax,” said the night man

We are programmed to receive 

You can check out any time you like

But you can never leave

(Eagles

Written By Don Felder, Don Henley, Glenn Fry

Hotel California

1977)

 It’s been awhile since I’ve written and since this is pretty DARK I’m only tagging a few people

@sagechanoafterdark​ @imanuglywombat​ @sapphirescrolls​ @saiyanprincessswanie​ @imdarkinme​ @the-soulofdevil​ 

I’m working on a permanent Taglist so if you’ve asked to be tagged please forgive me. 

[mattmurdocksscars]

Miscommunication Ch. 5

It’s Star Wars dayyyyy! Reader and Poe are headed to the gala! Find out how it goes for them!

Pairings: First Order! Poe x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Language, Canon typical violence, Implied torture

Word Count: 1828

Tag List (Open, strikethrough means it wouldn’t let me tag you): @himbopoes​, @writefightandflightclub​, @mellow-f1​, @imaginecrushes​, @ladyflyer20​, @kiaralein​, @oakleyves, @nacida-en-la-luna​, @morgannope​ @criminal-cookies​ @thegirlwiththebook​ @writingforhoursonend

As luck would have it, the two of you spent the days before the gala busy beyond belief. From getting ready to leave to spending every bit of time you could learning the layout of the building and city the gala was in, Poe and you never had time to talk about what occurred in the office. You’d had a bad feeling since landing in the city and over the years you’d grown to trust your gut feelings. By the day of the gala, you knew every entrance and exit of the building and had poured over the information on the guests. You honestly weren’t sure what Poe got up to but were grateful he didn’t interrupt your work. He seemed to sense that there was something off and spent his time either going over the information with you or out of the room.

When the day of the gala arrived, you kicked the man out of the room to get ready. He laughed at your threats of bodily harm if he stepped one foot back into the room before you were ready, but left you be. You spent the entire day preparing yourself. Fixing your hair, doing your make up, and finally putting on your dress. When Poe knocked on the door that evening, you tried to quiet your nerves. Smoothing your hands over the front of your dress and taking a calming breath, you walked over and opened the door for him. Then promptly stopped breathing.

He was gorgeous. Dressed to the nines in a black suit with his dark curls slicked back, he was devastatingly handsome. You weren’t sure how exactly you were supposed to focus on your actual job with him in the same room as you. Finally taking a breath, you let your gaze settle on his only to find his dark eyes roaming your figure, hunger evident. He said nothing as he took you in. You were dressed in a floor length dress with a slit that ran to your upper right thigh. The dress was black at the top but faded to a deep red at the bottom. Tied behind your neck and backless, it left very little to the imagination. Your heart began to pound in your chest the longer he went without saying anything. You shifted on your heels and that seemed to be enough to force his gaze back to your eyes. He stepped up to you, leaving barely any space between your bodies.

“Exactly how important is it that we make it to this event?” He growled, his dark eyes fixed on you and burning. With him this close, your senses were flooded with him. The heat from both his body and gaze, the scent of his cologne, the way his pupils ate away his irises. He was as dangerously addicting as any drug, but as much as you wanted to partake, your job came first. Putting a hand to his chest, you stepped back to give yourself some space.

“Dameron, if you ruin my mission, I will be very angry with you.” Raking your eyes over his form, you licked your lips. “Besides, I will likely be beating the women off of you tonight. How am I supposed to focus with you looking the way you do; on top of the way you’re looking at me? Relax with the fuck me eyes, Dameron. We have a job to do.”

“You will be the death of me, sweetness, but as you wish.” He schooled his face to be more relaxed though his eyes still smoldered with intent. “However, when this is over, we will be revisiting the conversation we had in your office.”

“I look forward to it.” He offered you his arm and you took it, the two of you heading down to the ballroom that the gala would be taking place in. As you approached the usher at the door, you watched as the man looked at Poe, to his holopad, then snapped back to look at Poe. You smirked at the brief look of panic that crossed the usher’s face as the two of you reached him.

“C-Captain Dameron! I didn’t realize you would be here tonight!” It was almost adorable, the way the usher tripped over his words. Poe just regarded him with a bored look.

“General Hux and Commander Ren decided my presence would be beneficial. May we go in?” Poe’s tone was bored but brokered no arguments. The usher immediately nodded, opening the door quickly.

“Have a good evening, sir.” As soon as the two of you entered the room, heads began to turn, and whispers started.

“Is that Captain Dameron?”

“He never comes to these events!”

“What’s he doing here?”

“Who’s she?”

“Lucky man/woman.”

“Am I to assume that I cannot murder anyone who looks at you for too long?” Poe whispered in your ear. You forced yourself to keep a straight face but turned slightly to whisper back to him.

“I believe there are many more eyes on you than there are on me.”

“That wasn’t a no.”

“You are insufferable.”

“Mm, and handsome too.”

“So modest.” You tried, and failed, to keep the smirk from your face and Poe huffed a laugh besides you. Eyes scanning the room, you took in that your contact wasn’t here yet and sighed. “Contact isn’t here yet, so I suppose we’ll have to mingle. How fun.”

To keep up appearances, you allowed Dameron to do all the talking as the two of you flowed through the crowds. You only spoke when spoken to and offered the occasional laugh when necessary. It was over an hour before your contact showed up and when he did, the unease you’d been feeling returned. His eyes were shifty, and he fidgeted frequently, as if nervous. You turned your glass in your hand as you watched the man, mulling the situation over. Finally, you turned to Dameron.

“Dameron, honey, I’ll return shortly.” You forced a sickly-sweet smile to your face and leaned forward to press a kiss to his cheek. The ladies around the two of you tittered as you seemed to linger for a moment. “Client is here, I’m making contact.”

Poe pressed his own kiss to your cheek in response and nodded as you stepped away.

“See you soon, sweetness.” He murmured, watching as you approached the client and subsequently left with him.

-----

You followed your client, Raena Binette, out of the ballroom and to a secluded office. Alarm bells were still going off in your head, so you kept your distance from him, never letting him at your back. When he insisted you close the office door behind you, you did as he asked but not without checking the hall to make sure you weren’t followed. Facing him fully, you watched as he walked to the desk and picked up the decanter on it and poured himself and you a drink.

“Mr. Binette, I was told you had some information for the First Order.” He held up the glass to you and you took it but didn’t drink from it.

“Straight to the point just like your Commander would be.” Binette leaned against the desk and drank slowly from his glass. His eyes roved your form and you forced yourself not to grimace when he lingered over your chest and legs. “Much more beautiful though.”

“Mr. Binette, I am not here for flattery. I am here because you informed Commander Ren that you had information that would be beneficial for the First Order. If that is not the case, I will be on my way and will inform Commander Ren that you were simply wasting our time.” Raena raised his hands in surrender, reaching behind him and holding up a datacard. You approached him and reached for it, only for him to pull it away and hold it out of your reach. His free hand shot to your waist and dragged you against him. Your eyes narrowed dangerously on him, but he only seemed to smirk.

“You know, you First Order lot can be so predictable. It’s almost pathetic.” You opened your mouth to ask just what the hell that was supposed to mean, but he tossed the card away and clamped his hand down over your mouth. “You see, bitch, right about now my men will have removed Captain Dameron from the premises to await a Resistance transport. They wanted him and in return, I get you. A very nice exchange in my opinion.”

Rage coursed through you at his words. You were not an object, and no one laid their hands on you in such a way unless you wanted them too. You bit down harshly on his hand causing him to rip it away from you with a yelp. You grabbed his hand that rested on your waist and twisted it, forcing the man to turn and fall to his knees. You kicked him in the back, sending him sprawling. Reaching into the slit on your dress, you pulled one of the knives you had stashed in a bandeau and approached him with a wicked smile. Flipping him onto his back, you sat on his chest and placed your knife to his collarbone as you choked him with your other hand. His hands flew to your wrist, but he couldn’t displace you.

“I’m going to give you one chance to tell me where Captain Dameron is.”

“Don’t-don’t kill me and I’ll tell you.”

“Oh, you’ll be dying no matter what. How painfully you do so, depends on how quickly you tell me Where. He. Is.” You dug your knife into the skin below his collarbone causing him to cry out.

“Fuck you.” Your smile turned sadistic.

“So be it.”

------ 

It took far longer than you expected to get the information from Binette. Yet, once he started talking, it all began to fall together. The Resistance had set up this fake information exchange in hopes of learning who you were. Upon discovering that Poe would be attending the gala, however, they requested his capture instead. Binette asked for you to still be brought in so that he could capture you for himself in exchange for taking the risk of capturing Poe. The Resistance agreed, unable to give up the chance of getting their hands on Poe. You were livid.

Stepping out of the office, you straightened your dress back out. You would need to cut through the gala, wanting to double check that Poe was actually gone before you went off. It wouldn’t do to terrify the masses by being covered in blood. Stepping back into the ballroom, your eyes roamed the room before deducing that Poe was indeed gone. Walking swiftly through the crowd and out the exit, you let your anger consume you. These fools had messed with the wrong person.

It was time to get your pilot back and Maker have mercy on whoever took him.

You wouldn’t.

[ears-awake-eyes-opened]

Now or never

(Hayffie ff ❤️. I initially shied away from this prompt because I didn’t think I could write it in a way that felt interesting. But I ended up having a great time with it, so much fun that this became one of my longest one-shots. — I make no apologies for the length of my posts in the feed or in the tags. I don’t apologize for any aspect of my free expression. For personal reasons, I write on my phone using the tumblr app, and the limitations are what they are. Like the limitations of my disabled body are what they are. For prompts, I reblog the prompt along with the link to my fic in case anyone wishes to reblog something shorter. — I write for myself, for my love of the characters and the process. When people comment on, like, or reblog my posts, I view those interactions as unexpected gifts. I have such love for writing that I’d do it old-school like Anne Frank, without any audience beyond my journal itself. This blog has been that for me for over 5 years, my space for coming of age and processing intensities in a strained and oppressive midlife. — I’m inspired now by prompts much more than I have been in past fanfiction efforts. So, thank you to everyone who offers them. And when people are willing to slog through my long fics and other posts, that is fabulous devotion to the characters/issues that are important to me, and I feel good to know I’m not caring alone. — 💛 Kim)

***

His facial hair was rough against her lips. The sensation triggered fantasy which played out more readily if she didn’t have to look at him. So she kissed him with her eyes closed whenever they fucked around. He was the same height as Haymitch. When she wore 5-inch heels, those added to the feeling of intimacy. It wasn’t entirely real, but it felt better than loneliness.

Their relationship was discrete, of course. Mutual discretion was a condition she established before getting involved with anyone, especially someone as high-profile as Seneca Crane.

As far as Capitol society was concerned, their connection was primarily professional, with occasional dinners at expensive restaurants. It was an image they’d been comfortable projecting, and it wasn’t far from the truth.

In moments that weren’t overly physical, she enjoyed his eyes. Blueish-grey with a streak of emotion, they were familiar enough to help her pretend. That’s why she’d first invited Seneca up to her apartment in the fall — to have sex with Haymitch in fantasy.

The sex was good enough. He was gifted with his hands, though he smelled too much like her. She wondered if he wore the same cologne as she did. And his body frame was smaller than the one she actually wanted intimacy with. By November, they’d become a regular *good enough* thing.

A dozen years earlier, they’d been schoolmates at the Academy. He graduated two years before her. She was softer then but already a force to reckon with. He was shorter in those days, sharp, obsessed with tech design. Ambition was an attribute they shared, perhaps the only one.

By 30, he’d become one of the youngest Head Gamemakers in history. He enjoyed the rush of adrenaline he experienced when executing the Games, and he relished the opportunity for artistry. The thrill and beauty he saw in death made Effie uncomfortable, but she viewed it as part of the job. He carried out the president’s wishes, though he confided in her that he didn’t fully agree with the way Snow ruled Panem.

On an evening in late December, they walked along a garden path covered in trellises draped with strands of fairy lights. Effie kept her hands warm in her pockets. It had been a long day, and she was ready to be home in bed, asleep, alone.

“What do you think about marriage?” he asked. The question was slightly more inspiring than if he’d asked her what she thought about the weather.

“I haven’t given it much thought,” she answered honestly, leaving out her occasional ludicrous fantasies about having babies with tiny purple wigs and predispositions for alcoholism.

“A union could be advantageous for both our careers. The publicity could improve your chances of promotion to escort for an inlying district.”

“And what do you stand to gain from a *union*?”

“You’re iconic, Effie. You represent the Capitol with style and positivity, and you execute your work flawlessly. You’re in good favor with the president. You could be a wonderful ally for me,” You could be a buffer for me, he didn’t say.

“Is there anything more?”

“Like what?”

“Really, Seneca, is THIS how you’re proposing??”

“Well, our families would support us. And there’s the matter of sentiment.”

“Sentiment?”

“I like you. I care for you, of course.”

She thought of Haymitch’s words from last summer, the night they almost... but didn’t.

‘I like you too much,’ he’d said, ‘I can’t fuck around with you and pretend it’s nothing. And that’s how it would have to be. That’s the only way it could be.”

Venia and Octavia insisted Haymitch loved her, but she believed that was still a pipe dream. She could keep waiting in vain, or she could choose a more sensible path.

“And there’s this...” From his coat pocket, Seneca pulled a black velvet box and flipped it open. Effie’s jaw dropped. The diamond was huge. It was far and away the loveliest ring she’d seen. She looked in those blueish-grey eyes that reminded her a bit of everything she wanted that wasn’t accessible to her.

Seneca pressed, “Say yes, and the wedding can be one of the biggest events of the year, rivaling even the Games.”

She imagined what her dress would look like. He was saying the right words to tempt her. They didn’t love each other, but maybe she could look past that inconvenient reality. Sometimes people married for other reasons.

“The press would go crazy,” he continued, “There would be red carpet interviews. We could invite everyone who’s anyone: stylists, victors, even Snow.”

Victors... Would he show up to watch me get married? 6 months ago, Haymitch had asked her what she wanted. He’d unzipped her dress and touched her body. He’d taken off his shirt and shown her his scars. Then he effectively told her a relationship between them was never going to happen, and he held her hand as she fell asleep.

Damn him.

She took her left hand out of her pocket. “Let’s see how it fits.”

Seneca had investigated her ring size, so the fit was perfect.

“Let’s show him,” she said.

“Show who?”

“Them. Let’s show them all.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes. Let’s get married. ...This spring.” She could plan a wedding in 5 months, no problem. Isn’t this the time couples usually cry and leap into one another’s arms? Shouldn’t this occasion call for a show of passion?

“This spring it shall be then.” When Seneca kissed her, she closed her eyes and embraced the same fantasy as usual.

***

Haymitch rarely received mail beyond his compensatory income from the government. In March, when the post delivered an envelope addressed to him in gold ink, he almost tossed the thing straight into the trash, recognizing it as an invitation to a Capitol party. Then he saw the name “Trinket” and the return address of Effie’s family home.

What’s this? He opened it right there on the porch with uneasiness gnawing at his stomach.

“You are cordially invited to celebrate the marriage of

Euphemia Rosalind Trinket -and-

Seneca Lucius Crane

Saturday, the first of May

At 3 O’Clock in the afternoon

Palazzo Annaeus”

What the hell is THIS! His stomach churned, and he vomited up a pint of white liquor on the ground beside the porch.

Memories flooded in... tracing up the seams of her stockings, unhooking her garters, feeling her body without a corset, running his fingers through her hair as she curled up in bed, so soft. So damn soft. Fear had screamed warnings about getting attached to her. Fear was always screaming.

When those Games were done, he’d left the Capitol with a strained sadness between them, like a rubber band stretched too long. Today it snapped and smacked him in the face. He felt the sting of annoyance and regret.

Damn her.

He couldn’t fix this. The only thing left to do was decide whether or not he was willing to watch it happen. He would have burned the invitation in the fireplace if not for the P.S. in her obnoxiously perfect handwriting.

***

Seneca had been right about one thing. Effie’s parents were thrilled that she’d decided to marry one of *the Crane boys,* especially the Head Gamemaker. Historically the Cranes had been part of the old guard of the wealthy from the Capitol, and they’d successfully diversified their financial interests in the years following the Dark Days.

Her parents spared no expense for *the wedding of the decade.* Effie spent the winter so caught up in the comfort of validation and the thrill of event planning that most of the time she evaded the sense of dread that nagged her when she startled awake in the mornings.

When she’d addressed the invitations, she considered adding a postscript to Haymitch’s, either “Fuck you” or “I love you.” Both feelings were nonsensical and nonetheless true. In the end she’d written,

“H — Please come. — E”

She checked the mail each day for his response card among hundreds, but it never showed up. Figures. He probably threw it away.

She didn’t need anyone to *rescue* her from the fate she’d chosen. If she wanted to call off the wedding, she’d simply come up with a logical explanation to save face; she’d apologize to Seneca and her parents; she’d put a stop to all plans, and that would be that.

The phrase “Mayday mayday mayday” was a distress signal used by Capitol troops during the Dark Days. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d subconsciously scheduled her wedding on the first of May because, apart from the fine details, opulence, and attention, her heart wasn’t in this.

***

“We’re here at Pallazo Annaeus,” Claudius reported from the red carpet which had been rolled out along the walkway to the galleria of the Crane family mansion. “Just a short time from now, fashion icon and District 12 escort, Effie Trinket, will wed two-time Head Gamemaker, Seneca Crane.”

“Isn’t this exciting!!” Caesar was in typical form. “The air is positively electric!”

“So much so that my hair is standing on end!”

“As is mine!! Thank goodness for hair products.”

“And wigs! We’re seeing all of the ABOVE as the guests arrive. What a crowd!”

Their interviews with attendees were concise, asking which stylists designed their gowns and suits, and if they had particular wishes to share with the couple.

“Now here comes... Is that?... It is! Haymitch Abernathy, victor of the second Quarter Quell.”

“How touching. One advisor for District 12 supporting the other on her special day.”

“I LOVE it!! Haymitch, do you have any words for the happy couple?”

Haymitch stomped past them without pause. He hadn’t entirely sobered up from the bottle of whiskey he drank on the train, and he didn’t even try to resist flipping Caesar off when asked the question.

“A man of few words,” Claudius covered for a shocked Caesar. “We never know what to expect from that one.”

“He certainly does keep us on our toes.”

“Well, it’s a good thing we have stylish shoes!”

“Indeed!” Each of them spun around on tiptoe, and the cameras zoomed in on their footwear as a distraction from Haymitch’s persistent middle finger.

Just beyond the entryway, the galleria was packed already. Guests were dressed in yards of fabric and large hats. Floral arrangements lined marble walls covered with paintings, some of which were probably older than Panem itself. Haymitch slipped into the first empty chair he spotted, ignoring the usher who asked him, “Are you here for the bride or the groom?”

The question pestered. The bride. Shit. I’m here for the bride.

***

With every detail attended to, Effie curled her fingers around her father’s arm in the vestibule. Flower girls and bridesmaids entered the galleria first, then it would be her turn.

“My princess is getting married in a palace.” Her father kissed her cheek.

“Daddy! Careful of my makeup. Photos aren’t being taken until afterward.”

“Of course. It’s YOUR perfect day.”

Effie had certainly made everything perfect, except for this unrelenting nausea and desire to run away. She forced herself to breathe slowly. The last thing she needed right now was to throw up, ruin her white gown, and have the press start a false rumor about pregnancy. She had no desire to have children with Seneca. She’d made that clear, and he agreed.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?”

Her father calling her “sweetheart” made every discomfort worse. Clearly she thought of Haymitch.

“I’m trying to be alright... but I don’t know,” she confessed.

Her father wasn’t sure what to say. “It’s almost time to walk down the aisle. Is that what you want to do?”

He asked it like she had a choice, but it was too late for choices.

“Let’s go pay the piper!” As Effie started down the aisle on her father’s arm, she didn’t notice the splendor and fullness of the room, nor the oohs and aahs from standing friends and family. She didn’t notice the rose petals on the floor, nor her fiancé sweating like a pig about to be roasted alive with an apple in its mouth.

All she saw was Haymitch.

He stood at the edge of the aisle, in the middle of the room. In the years that she’d known him, he’d been clear about his disdain for Capitol events, yet here he was, no RSVP and very much himself in his regular clothes from District 12. She’d probably be irritated if she hadn’t missed him so much. He was standing right here, and she was still missing him. It took every ounce of restraint to not tell him so.

“Great dress, sweetheart.” He offered a subdued smile as she passed.

She looked back at him once, and her eyes felt like old glass, holding tears too hardened to fall. Then there was nothing to do but look forward.

***

Fear was screaming different words now at Haymitch. Stop this. This wedding. Stop this!

As she walked away from him, he could see that her dress had an open back from her waist to the top of her shoulder blades. The gap was bordered in ornate jewels, stitching, and fancy shit. But he couldn’t take his eyes off her skin, and he couldn’t stop thinking about touching her.

She glanced at him again as she handed her bouquet to a bridesmaid. Her eyes were pleading. He knew the look because of all the times he’d tried to ignore her feelings for him ...and his feelings for her.

The officiant addressed the audience, “We are gathered here today to join Effie and Seneca in matrimony. Family, friends, and honored guests, do you support this union and affirm that these two should be married today?”

Haymitch looked around as the audience responded in unison, "We do."

I don’t.

The officiant continued, “Will you surround this couple in love, offering them the joys of your friendship? Will you support this couple in their relationship? At times of conflict will you offer them the strength of your wisest counsel and the comfort of your thoughtful concern? At times of joy, will you celebrate with them, nourishing their love for one another?”

The automatons responded together again, "We will.”

Like hell I will.

“If any of you has a reason why these two should not be married, speak now or forever hold your peace."

Haymitch sighed and shook his head. Someday he’d be the death of her, or she’d be the death of him. Maybe today was that day.

This felt like now or never. The bit of whiskey still in his veins helped it be now. He stood up and moved quickly down the aisle to the sound of gasps and murmurs all around him.

***

“What are you doing?” Effie was stunned as he gripped her wrist.

“Excuse us,” Haymitch said directly to Seneca, then he pulled Effie out of the room down a long hallway.

She went willingly, chastising him in hushed tones along the way. “Haymitch! This is highly inappropriate!”

“More inappropriate than us having this conversation in front of the entire Capitol?”

“What conversation?”

He pulled her into a room down the hall.

“Not so tight!”

He loosened his grasp on her wrist but didn’t let go.

“What are you doing, Effie?”

“Do I need to state the obvious?”

“Marriage?? Why are you even WITH him?”

“I don’t owe you explanations — or anything else for that matter.”

She was right. She owed him nothing. His edge softened, and he stroked her wrist with his thumb. “Why are you marrying somebody you didn’t even look at as you walked down that aisle?”

“I LOOKED at him.”

“For about five seconds, and what did you see?”

She hesitated, “He’s wearing a tie, not an ascot. We had a dispute about it this week, and I insisted he wear the tie.”

“That’s what you’re thinking about on your wedding day when you see the man you’re about to marry — a goddamn tie?”

“Why are YOU giving ME the third degree! What are YOU thinking about on my wedding day?”

“I’m thinking about how much I hate Seneca Crane. I don’t want him marrying you. I don’t want you fucking him.”

“Well, that ship sailed! We’ve been having sex for months, not that it’s any of your business!”

“Not my business?”

“Absolutely not!”

He was burning with a mix of emotions: anger, jealousy, frustration, confusion, desire, fear. “If it’s not my business, then why did you ask me to ‘please come’ today? What am I doing here? ...If it’s not my business, then why did reading your wedding invitation make me puke. Why can’t I stop thinking about you? ...If it’s not my business, then why do I want to be the one to take this dress off you. I keep holding your wrist because if I let go, I’m gonna touch you, and what would your *fiancé* think about that? What would YOU think about that?”

He’d never confessed so much to her all at once, and she was in a mild state of shock about it. “Last summer you told me if we ‘fucked around’ then you’d have to pretend it means nothing. You told me you can’t pretend that, so where does that leave us?”

“I don’t know, honey.”

“I think you do. ...Let go of my wrist.”

“I told you what’s gonna happen if I let go.”

“Then let it happen.”

In a duality of reluctance and eagerness, he let go of her wrist and caressed her through the open back of her dress. She shivered and leaned into him. He wrapped his arms around her, touching every inch of skin he could reach.

The wig she wore resembled her actual hair color, light golden, like wheat before harvest. In this moment, she was an angel. He’d kiss her if she’d just shut up, but she had things to say too.

“If it’s not your business, then why am I still here with you instead of out there marrying Seneca?” Her tone softened. “Why do I close my eyes and picture you every time I kiss him and every time we have sex? ....If it’s not your business, then why do I miss you so much?”

“Jesus, Effie. What are you doing to me?”

“I don’t know, honey.”

“I think you do.”

***

From the doorway, Seneca cleared his throat. He’d been listening awhile. Effie tried to pull away from Haymitch, but first he had to untangle himself from the back of her dress.

“This isn’t quite what it looks like,” Effie laughed nervously.

“It looks like unfinished business,” Seneca said.

“Then it IS what it looks like,” Haymitch told him.

“Will you please excuse us?” Seneca asked, proper as fuck. “Effie and I have some things to discuss.”

“I’m not leaving.” Fear and desire for her wouldn’t budge.

“I’ll handle this,” she insisted. “Please wait in the hall.”

This was the Gamemaker’s house, his wedding, and his girl for god sake. What else could Haymitch do? Pull out his knife and slit the guy’s throat?? This was Effie’s world, not his. Without another word, he stepped out of the room, and he hated that she closed the door behind him.

Seneca confronted her, “I’ll say this quickly because our guests have already waited long enough. A marriage of convenience is prudent when the motivations for such a union are stronger than the desire for love. I’ve realized that’s not the case here. For me, and apparently not for you either.”

“Are you in love with someone else?”

“Someone my family regards as unsuitable. I’m sorry I didn’t speak about it sooner. I was afraid you wouldn’t understand.” He glanced at the door, “But I see that you do. Frankly, this interruption is an enormous relief.”

Effie was slightly miffed to realize that Seneca would not be pining for her, but the interruption did lift her feeling of dread. “I apologize as well. I haven’t been forthcoming with you, or with myself. What do we do now? The Capitol is expecting a wedding.”

“The Capitol is expecting a show, and they’re getting that. Let’s walk out there together and announce that we’ve decided to cancel the nuptials and move straight to the reception. It can still be the party of the year.”

“But my parents...”

“I’ll reimburse your father for his investment in this. It’s the right thing to do. I do care for you, Effie, but I should never have discussed marriage as a hypothetical, let alone proposed and let it get this far.”

He held out his hand. “Shall we? Before any more time passes.”

She threaded her fingers with his in solidarity.

When the door opened, Haymitch was still there in the hall, fuming now at the sight of them holding hands.

“Seneca, give me another minute,” she said.

He let go of her and took several steps away.

She touched Haymitch’s arm and spoke into his ear, “The wedding is off. But we need time to appease our families and everyone else. Meet me at 9 o’clock at The Popina on 6th St. Do you know the place?”

He’d never been there, but it was a good call. He doubted the press would look for him at a swanky wine bar. “I know the one.”

She whispered, “I said I don’t owe you anything, and you don’t owe me anything either. Regardless, this feeling between us isn’t going away.”

Seneca told him, “Keep following this hallway as it bends to the right. You’ll eventually reach a side door you can take out of here if you want...”

Haymitch didn’t trust him and didn’t want to leave.

“...Unless you’d prefer a walk back down the red carpet with the other guests.”

I don’t.

Effie urged him to go. “I need to set this right. Please don’t make this harder for me than it already is.”

“I don’t wanna run out in the middle of a pile of shit.”

“Language! This wedding is not a pile of anything. It’s an event we need to finish differently than expected. Will you trust me?”

“Fine.” He answered without conviction, turning away so he wouldn’t have to watch them link hands again. Holding the handle of the knife in his pocket, he followed the hallway to the side door and left all that nonsense behind him. Did he trust her?? If she walked into that bar tonight without a rock on her finger, then maybe he just might.

***

Afterward, the red carpet commentary indeed made for a more interesting show.

“The only thing more exciting than a wedding,” said Caesar, “Is a kiss at the altar between the bride and groom after they’ve CALLED OFF the ceremony!”

“You may now kiss the woman in white who is no longer your bride!”

“Oh, Claudius, you’re so cheeky!”

“I can honestly say I’ve never seen a couple more happy to be NOT married.”

“Did somebody bring the sun INSIDE the palace? Because they were positively glowing.”

“The reception is still on, and did you hear their words about it?”

“Caesar, I was on the edge of my seat, and I couldn’t miss them, but say them again.”

“Seneca began, ‘May 1st, May Day, is not just one of folktales. Mayday was a cry of distress during war, terrible war. The Capitol responded and transformed that distress into peace.’

“Then...”

“Then Effie continued, ‘Instead of celebrating a wedding, we’ve decided to transform the reception we’d planned into a festival honoring the glory of the Capitol. Panem today, Panem tomorrow, Panem forever.’”

“Don’t you just love that?”

“I DO! I absolutely do!”

“Well, that’s the only ‘I do’ that we’ll be hearing this afternoon!”

Hysterical laughter ensued between the two.

“Claudius, the question on everyone’s mind revolves around the influence of a certain mentor from District 12.”

“Yes. Haymitch Abernathy interrupted the ceremony.”

“He pulled Effie away, and Seneca followed. When the couple returned hand-in-hand, they called off the wedding. The mystery is, what happened in between?”

“As you said earlier, we never know what to expect from Haymitch. That one is a wildcard.”

“We’ve been waiting for him to emerge from the palace so we can ask him, but as we noted before, he is a man of few words.”

“Maybe we’ll catch him at the reception.”

“The festival!”

“The festival, of course!”

***

By 10 o’clock, Haymitch had read the sign on the wall a hundred times. “Hedone says, ‘You can drink here for one; if you give two, you will drink better; if you give four, you will drink Falernian.”

‘Hedone’ he recognized as the Roman goddess of pleasure. He thought pleasure would be a fine devotion if it wasn’t pursued at the cost of other people’s lives or pursued to chase away demons. He was already chasing one bottle of Falernian with another. “Damn Capitol wine doesn’t get you drunk unless you chug two bottles. And this is the best they’ve got?”

He’d been there a couple of hours. During that time, his attention was divided between that sign reflecting on hedonism and the screen showing footage of Effie’s non-wedding reception.

They were *saving face* alright. Haymitch had rarely seen Effie kiss anyone, and tonight he’d watched her kiss her *former* fiancé every time someone clinked a glass. The kisses were pecks mostly, a game they were probably playing to host a fun party and show the Capitol there were no hard feelings between them. But as the kisses added up, Haymitch’s dislike for Seneca Crane became more palpable.

“Slide a bit,” she said, showing up beside him. She was hiding in a simple dress and a light layer of makeup. Her hair was pulled back beneath a scarf instead of a wig.

He scooted over, making room for her at his booth in back. “You’re late, sweetheart. Did Crane kiss all that makeup off your face?”

“And you’re drunk.” She caressed the back of his neck, content to be with him right now, drunk or not.

“Wasn’t drunk an hour ago after the first bottle of this Falernian shit. But the more you drink, the better it tastes.”

She drank from his glass, and he didn’t object. From his perspective right now, she could drink straight from his mouth or off his body.

He encircled her waist, pulling her as close as the setting allowed. He was relieved to see that she wasn’t married. His inhibitions were reduced, so she could do just about anything to him right now, and he wouldn’t object. He tried not to think about her having that kind of power.

She stroked his arm wrapped around her. “There’s a rumor circulating about you.”

“Oh yeah? What is it?” He kissed her neck after each question. “Do they think I’m fucking you?”

She giggled because the hair on his face tickled her skin and because she was anticipating his response. “Not quite, honey.”

“What then?”

“They think you’re fucking Seneca.”

“What the hell?!!”

“Caesar and Claudius predicted ‘the mentor from District 12 is having a torrid affair with the Head Gamemaker,’ and you pulled me away from the wedding in the hopes of taking my place at the altar.”

“They’re lunatics.”

“It’s a risky move breaking up a wedding. Who knows what people will say.”

“What do YOU say?”

“I say you look at my breasts far too often for you to be interested in Seneca Crane,” she chuckled.

“And what do you say about me breaking up your wedding?”

As she looked into his eyes, there was no approximation, no almost. It was a relief to not have to *pretend* that he was the one she wanted, but to just KNOW it. “I say, thank you. ...Sweetheart.”

What fantasies and real desires would be accessible with him? She’d know more in time.

[typinggently]

I feel like feral!bruce would like to wear body glitter. Just a slutty outfit that reveals as much of his body as he can without showing off his scars and absolutely covered in body glitter that reflects the lights of the chandelier at a fancy gala (he's not following the dress code, but who cares when hes hot and rich?) OR the neon lights at a shady club in the dangerous part of Gotham. Thoughts.

Anon…your mind… y.y I love this so much…the concept of Feral Bruce in a glittery outfit is truly incredible and I love it so much

I also spent a hoot minute sorting through my thoughts and I found something that’s similar to glitter, but gives more protection for his scars (while still showing skin and being sexy AND being glitter)? And it’s those glittery diamond chain shirts?

You know, like this piece by Ludovic de Saint Sernin (you KNOW I love that specific collection, I used it before for Feral Bruce Fashion simply because I adore the combination of glitter, black and revealing outfits…unparalleled)  -

Put him in proper black suit and voilà!!! Maybe velvet? To really give it that overkill feeling? Or keep it classy with a matte, nicely cut suit to balance out that top? Also by suit I mean trousers and the jacket. Leave the jacket open and you have that gorgeous piece just glittering underneath, showing plenty of skin while not showing too much, you know? He doesn’t have to worry about the scars because they’re sufficiently hidden underneath the glitter AND the pink of his nipples still shines through. That’s fashion. That’s a Gala Outfit right there.

And actually???? Maybe? He goes the extra mile and wears this dress version??? Now of course he still wears trousers, he wouldn’t want to cause a scene. Never. Not him. But it’s more glitter and shows more skin so…

Also I refuse to believe that he wouldn’t be wearing diamond clip earrings. Maybe he wouldn’t pierce his ears because, like tattoos, they could somehow give him away, but clips are a-ok.

And see – he’s wearing a suit. It’s a suit event. He’s following the dress code. And as you said – he’s hot and rich, who’s going to stop him?

But now – he’s at the Gala, dressed to the nines, what does he do? I say he goes to the DJ who’s playing tasteful 60s cocktail music to appeal to the crowd and goes “Hello can you play something a little more fun, s’il vous plait?” – and what’s the DJ going to do? “No, Brucie Wayne, I can’t do that”??? As IF

The point is that Bruce dances. Possibly on the tables. And since he’s the Prince of Gotham, the sugar babies join in at some point and that’s the headline right there – Brucie surrounded by a group of scantily clad women and men who all came on the arm of some rich, corrupt, married raisin

I honestly can’t decide what kind of songs Bruce would chose for Brucie? I feel like he, as himself, would probably rock that exact outfit in that exact context – the stiff-formal crowd, the marble floors, the glittering chandeliers, the champagne – and go absolutely HAM to Prrokofiev’s Dance of the Knights (or maybe Grieg’s In the Hall of the Mountain King). And I don’t mean in a classic Ballet way. Just – absolute feral energy. I feel like watching Bruce - the real Bruce - dancing is like watching a thunderstorm. There’s so much energy there, so much passion, he’s absolutely lost to the world, his body a livewire. A sense of elegance, mixed with a wild strength, flexibility and a foaming, wild mind.

But yes. This isn’t real Bruce, this is Brucie. So I say – honestly, he probably goes up there and goes “Anything from Blackout, oui?” (Brucie sometimes puts on a REALLY fake and bad French accent)

Next thing you know, the marble halls and floor-to-ceiling windows are vibrating with Piece of Me.

(Bruce with his hair falling into his eyes, chest covered in strings of diamonds and sticky with champagne he used to cool off between songs, flushed cheeks, dancing with a selection of three sugar babies at a time on a buffet table that’s creaking dangerously)

-

Dangerous parts of Gotham? We know Bruce has the Matches Alias when he wants to snoop around the seedy parts but like – Wouldn’t it be fun if he just waltzed in as Brucie now and then? It’s not unbelievable, Brucie is the Hot Airhead type, he could decide to go off the beaten tracks for some “real fun”.

And Alright. Alright I have to say it. Colin Farrell as Penguin right. What’s up with that. I know I established the Penguin as some sort of uh? Fastfood fiend? But honestly, he did that drug and chain restaurant spiel in ’03 or so. He can move on and have some Ice Cold Nightclubs. And maybe Bruce wants to investigate but Matches is too sleazy, so Bruce is all “The only possible solution is to dress up in glittery outfits and go check the scene myself”

Since the Club Penguin (I’m? Come on, that’s gotta be the name) it Ice-themed, glitter is the PERFECT outfit. He arrives with glitter in his hair, glitter on his chest, maybe wearing some leather trousers this time, acting high as a kite and carrying one (1) credit card as well as one (1) bottle of Perfume. Upon arriving at the door, he sprays it liberally on his chest, throat, the general area around himself and drops it right on the floor before waltzing in, not even pausing for the bouncer. Hot and Rich. Who’s going to stop him?!

Once inside the club – icy blue walls, neon lights, fog, glittering floors – Bruce obviously has to dance and pretend to get real fucked up on whatever people are giving him. Sea of writhing, glittering bodies.

And see – Brucie could be in real danger here. This is not a friendly-fancy club, this is the Penguin’s lair. I think he escapes the attacks people make on him in hilarious slapstick ways. Someone fixes his drink and Brucie just pours out his 30$ g&t to marvel at how the neon lights glitter in the glass. Someone tries to steal his credit card but ends up with a glittery black card that says “Brucie XO” on it and nothing else. Bruce uses it like a regular card, as in he hands it over and people give him shit because he’s Brucie Wayne.

The Gotham Underground hates Brucie so fucking much. But in like, the “angrily jumping on your hat and then eating it” way. That’s how he’s still alive. (Bruce perfected the game)

(I would like to let you know that I’ve been listening to Slayyter’s Gimme More remix basically nonstop so I guess that’s what the club is playing. You cannot afford to ignore when I walk out of the store / Freaky little whore from the 314 always wanting more – no one said Penguin had proper taste in music. On second thought they probably play it just for Brucie. And I want to know who he’s dancing with in this cool-glittery club with the nice lighting while he’s wearing his cute little fit. >:( )

-

Honestly, I hope you enjoyed this at least a little. I feel like this was very stream of consciousness but it was so much fun to think about. Little episodes of Feral Bruce living his best life. I love him so much.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #436

from a couple days ago again; still don’t feel like rewriting any answers.

Do you own many pairs of shorts? I don't own any. Have you ever taken a close up shot of a flower? A hell of a lot; I love doing that. Have you ever wanted to get drunk and get your mind off everything? Yup. But I don't like hard alcohol and only really drink light fruity stuff, and I'm apparently no lightweight, so I got to the point I just really didn't want to drink anymore. Anything you might be giving up on soon? I have felt very, very hopeless with photography lately that sometimes I'm tempted. I don't think I will, but... it's hard. When was the last time you changed your picture on Facebook? It's been months. Have you ever painted a piece of furniture? Yes, actually. I helped Jason paint his shelf black. Do you have a favorite quote? No. Have you ever made a business card for yourself? No, but I have thought about it. I just really don't have nearly enough popularity among the local photographers to feel like I really need to design one. Did you love playing hide and seek as a kid? YES. I loved it. Are there any recipes you have memorized? No. Do you know your multiplication times tables? ... no lmao Have you ever been severely burned? Not severely, no. Did you ever dream that you had a baby? I actually have more than once. What was the weirdest thing you ever saw cross the road? I think a turkey? Are you good at coming up with jokes? God no. Where do you prefer to sit when you catch the bus? When I used to ride home with Jason from school, we always sat way in the back. Do you ever listen to music to fall asleep to? No. I did when I was younger, though. I went through a loooong phase of sleeping with my iPod. If your parents... or anybody else... found your cell phone, would they be horrified at any of the messages in your inbox/outbox? No. Do you get offended if someone repeatedly checks their mobile phone when you’re out for lunch or dinner? That's very rude. What is the stupidest thing you’ve heard somebody say recently? Anti-vaccination bullshit from my stepmother. :^) Think about the last person you kissed - was it the very first time that you kissed them? No. When you drink alcohol with friends, do you play drinking games? We never did. Do you believe that there are certain circumstances where cheating is okay? Nope. Who was the last person to call you? My psychiatrist. What food disgusts you the most? Things like sashimi and caviar. I also think rare meat like steak, especially when it's still bloody, is absolutely disgusting. I could go on and on about this, 'cuz I think a lot of food is really gross. One place you would never want to get lost in in the dark? The jungle. Yikes. So many dangerous creatures, so claustrophobic, and with the canopy, I'd assume it'd be EXTREMELY dark. And it rains so much in the jungle, so it'd be hard to hear danger approaching. One thing that always creeps you out? Perhaps #1 is seeing an unborn baby move from outside their mother's stomach. I will fucking scream and want to puke. If you could be roommates with anyone of your choice, who would you pick? SARA!!!!!!!!! Omfg I'd LOVE to have her as my roommate. We've actually talked about the possibility, but that's nowhere near set in stone. What is the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever heard? In light of recent events, a high contender is shit like "vaccines cause autism." Would you rather be buried or cremated when you die? I'd strongly prefer to be cremated. What is your favorite food around the holidays? Spiral honey ham, for one. I love Christmas treats like chocolate-covered peanuts, fudge, cookies, etc. etc... Tell me about the greatest prank you’ve ever pulled? I don't pull pranks. If you could have the power to cast any kind of spell, what kind of spell would you cast? Maybe enchanting the human population to not be such violent and hateful fucks??? Have you ever gotten a flu vaccination? Only for Covid. Double dates: a do or don’t? They are SO fun, but I do feel like it's good to have individual ones, too. Do you know any guitarists? Yes. My old friend Tommy actually plays the electric guitar in a band, and Juan was really good at it, too. How do you feel about full-length beards? They look good on some people. It varies with everyone. Do you have any relatives that have shunned you, or vice versa? Not currently. My half-sister stopped talking to me many years ago when I was a homophobic fuck, and I don't blame her. We're perfectly cool now! Has anyone ever posted a HORRIBLE picture of you for everyone to see? omg no Does/did your high school have pop machines? Yes. Have you ever gambled? Nah. If you could work at any retail store, which one would it be? I am NEVER working retail again. I can't handle it. What’s the name of the last cat you pet? Roman. :') Have you ever stringed green beans before? Yes, actually, with Colleen's in-laws. They had a big garden that I helped tend to sometimes. I absolutely hated it with how sweaty I got even then, it was WAY too hot, and my body was also weak back then to where bending down was extremely painful. I just never wanted to say no. Have you ever had any painful dental work done? If so, what? No. What’s your favorite thing to do when you’re bored? It really depends on what I feel like doing, but I think playing World of Warcraft tempts me most often when I'm unbearably bored. What did you watch today? I've just been rewatching Mortem3r play Monster Hunter World. That game looks soooo fun, I wanna try it. ;-; True or False: Yoshi is the cutest dinosaur ever? No. I adore dinosaurs and dinosaur media, so I could name a lot if I thought long enough. Who is the last person you spent money on? My niece. I still feel awful I didn't buy Ryder a gift by myself; I just could NOT decide what to get him. I'm very thankful that Mom let me use one she got him as "mine." They were bright, light-up golf balls, and he loooooved them. What is your relationship like with various members of your family? I have a biiig extended family, man, so I'll try to keep this as brief as possible. I am EXTREMELY close to my mom, like there is no way I'd be alive without her, and her support for me seems endless somehow. I love my dad very much too, but I don't see him nearly as much as I wish I did. He tries to support me however he's capable, and he always lets me know that he's there if I need him for anything. I love, am very proud of, and look up to my two sisters, but I'm also very envious of them and how they are successful adults with direction and big accomplishments. We are very different, so we have difficulty with really bonding and talking about things regularly, and it really makes me feel like a terrible sister. My nieces and nephew are absolute diamonds to me, and I'm especially close to Ash's oldest daughter Aubree. She and I are very similar in a lot of areas, so I really relate to her, even in her young age. Ryder really seems to like me, and I love that little rascal, too. :') My youngest niece Emerson is still only a baby, so she can't really communicate in words yet, but she is still a beautiful darling that I'd protect with my life in not even a blink. That covers who I consider my "immediate" family, really, at least that I see regularly. What’s something you disagree with about the way you were raised? I am very firmly against spanking, but my parents did it. I think since Ash's kids were born though, Mom's opinion changed on it. It was around that time, I know. She won't lay a hand on them. Who was the last person to add you as a friend on Facebook? I have no clue, actually. Who was the last person that asked if you were okay? *shrug* The last time you were in a car, who was driving? My mom. Did you ever get into a bar and drink before you were 21? Never tried. What countries have you been to? I've never left the U.S. Honestly, is that car insured? I don't have my own car. What do you think about gay marriage? I vigorously support it. Do you like Carrie Underwood? I actually do. She has a beautiful voice. How far away do you live from your parents? I live with my mom. Idk how far I am from Dad, really... but not THAT far. How do you like your steak cooked? Medium well. Have you ever been to Mount Rushmore? No, and I don't want to. It is absolute vandalism. Where is your favorite place (that you have actually been to)? Chicago blew me away, but I think it's just because it was SO foreign to me. I actually don't like cities very much, but for a brief visit, I thought it was very cool. Do you believe places can really be haunted? Yes. Do you take anti-depressants? Sleeping pills? No. I took anti-depressants for I think most of my life, and they did nothing for me. Come to learn from the doctor who actually set my meds straight that anti-depressants for people with bipolarity do nothing but aggravate the symptoms of bipolarity, and I was living evidence. I take mood stabilizers for said disorder instead. I don't take sleeping pills; none seem to work for me. What’s your favourite brand of peanut butter? Maybe Skippy? Idk, I'm not very picky with pb. What’s your favourite Lunchables meal? The nachos one. How many languages can you recite the alphabet in? Two. Do you like Bob Marley? NOOOOOOOOOOOOO. I can't stand his voice. Have you ever eaten at Golden Corral? Yeah, but I'm not a fan. Buffets gross me out. Do you sit and eat dinner at the same table with your family? We very rarely sit at the table. Have you been working hard to achieve something lately? If not, what was the last thing you worked hard to achieve? Losing weight, yes. I am honestly trying so hard at the gym, like to the point I've almost fallen many times as well as been overtaken by incredible nausea a lot. I don't feel like I'm over-working, necessarily, just working my ass off. Do you use ice cubes in your fountain drinks? No, because it waters the drink down and I hate it. Would you ever want your very own library, or do you not read enough for it to be worth it? No. I don't read nearly enough, and besides, can you imagine all the dust? What site did you originally start doing surveys on? I actually don't know... Have you ever used something other than water to make ice cubes? What did you do with them? I've actually never thought to do that. Would you ever willingly experience life temporarily without sight, hearing, or any of your other senses, simply to know what it is like? Fuck no. I would go insane. In what ways are you very judgmental? I'll judge the fuck out of rapists, child molesters, pedophiles, people like that with no goddamn shame. But your average person, I try not to judge very much. What is your main problem in life right now? It's hard to determine my main problem, honestly. There are a lot of issues going on in my life that've just piled up into one big tangled mess. Do your “favourites” change often? Definitely not. I've had the same favorites in so many topics for forever. Have you ever read a biography on someone? I've read Ozzy's autobiography, and I also read the Some Kind of Monster Metallica book, which was written by I want to say St. Anger's musical director? This was a very long time ago, and honestly, I thought it was pretty boring, so my memory is faint. You learned quite a bit about the band in his time with them, but damn, I don't care about the musical director al;skdfal;we. Do you know anyone who has ever been in a movie? Who and what movie were they in? What was their part? Not to my knowledge. I have an acquaintance who's had minor acting roles, but I don't believe she's ever been in a film. When was the last time you brought a pet to the vet? What was wrong with it? I want to say around two years ago (probably less) when we got my cat neutered. Have you ever made your way through a corn maze? No.

[allicekitty13]

In 1987 Jasper and Alice meet at the local country club. With all the cards stacked against them can they find their way to happiness? 

Read On Ao3

Read On FFN

                     Let em' say we're crazy, I don't care about that.                  Put your hand in my hand baby, don't ever look back.                              Let the world around us, just fall apart.                       Baby, we can make it if we're heart to heart.

"Don't you have a shift today Whitlock?" The voice rousing Jasper from his sleep was accompanied by a dirty shirt being thrown at his head. The man opened one eye squinting against the bright sunshine currently streaming through his window to look at his best friend Peter leaning against the doorframe of his currently open bedroom door.

"Pete," The twenty-one year old groaned. "The fuck did we do last night?" Jasper remembered they'd decided to go out. He remembered Peter and Charlotte going off to do god knows what. Well, the man had a pretty good idea of what but preferred not to think about it. He definitely remembered the line of shots he'd done with his favorite bartender, Mara. But anything after his seventh Alabama Slammer was either extremely fuzzy or a black spot in his memory entirely. Judging by the way his head was pounding, the sick feeling in his stomach, and the intense craving for a nice greasy burger from McDonald's, it was really no wonder why he struggled to recall the events.

"We got drunk." Peter shrugged. "You know, like we do every Friday. But really man, you gotta get up. It's after noon."

"Haven't you any sympathy for the hungover?" Jasper rolled over as he spoke to lay on his stomach wanting nothing more than to close his eyes and sleep the condition off. Maybe to venture to the living room couch at some point and watch re-runs of sitcoms from the 70's on the sole TV in the apartment.  

"Not when I know you have to be at work in an hour. Rent doesn't pay itself, dude." With that, Peter left his friend alone to the misery of a bad hangover. Daring to open one eye, flinching at the still too bright sun, Jasper spared a glance to the digital radio/alarm clock sitting on the messy bedside table next to him. Although blurry, he could faintly make out the time of 2:13pm. That information caused him to awaken, fully sobering up in an instant.

Peter was right; he did in fact, have a shift soon. In approximately forty-five minutes soon. He would have to skip a shower, something his co-workers wouldn't be too happy about operating in such close quarters without air conditioning. That was nothing compared to the fancy customers he served at the country club who didn't exactly need an excuse to complain. Luckily it was Saturday afternoon, and most of his interactions would involve nothing more than shoving cans of Coors or Tab into coolers for the members to take out to the tennis courts or golf course.

Jasper threw on the polo style shirt he kept around specifically for the stuffy dress code required at the establishment and his cleanest, least beaten up pair of jeans. He quickly brushed his teeth and hopped into his beat-up 75' Gremlin hoping to make the thirty-minute journey in twenty.

Fate, as always, wasn't in the man's favor and he ended up being late. Only by about five minutes, but the glare Angela shot him when he finally arrived to take over the bar caused Jasper to feel as though he'd shown up hours tardier than expected. Once the irritated Angela rushed off to god knows where Jasper busied himself with making sure glasses were clean and everything well stocked for when the night shift arrived in five hours.

Of course, Angela being exceptionally organized and great at her job had, as usual, left very little for Jasper to actually take care of. He often wondered why she spent her time working at the club rather than going to college, but at the end of the day, they weren't really friends. The way Jasper saw it, her personal life was none of his business. If she didn't want to share, he wasn't going to ask. So with everything taken care of, the man figured he might as well venture over to the kitchen for a chat with the equally bored cook Emmett.

Jasper liked the slightly older man; he was a pretty solid dude. Emmett was trying to save up enough money to buy his girlfriend, Rosalie, an engagement ring. So a few months ago picked up a side gig working at the club as a fry cook. Emmett was hard-working, funny, and one of the most genuine people Jasper had ever met. They'd butted heads at first, having vastly different upbringing and thus outlooks on life. Still, over the past few months of working together at the establishment, Jasper found himself looking forward to Saturday shifts exclusively for their engaging talks.

Once he'd double checked to make sure there were no more menial tasks to take care of, Jasper swaggered into the kitchen and plopped upon an empty counter, ignoring the way his friend shook his head at the antics. They had a usual back and forth. Emmett warning the other man that if their boss were to walk in, not only would Jasper receive yet another meaningless warning about cutting his hair. Both parties would be lectured on how inappropriate it was for anyone, let alone an employee, to be acting so unprofessional in the workplace.

Of course, Jasper being reckless had received countless amounts of these warnings. The truth of the matter was that employees were hard to keep. High schoolers could only work so many hours, and most adults willing to take on such a job were quickly worn by the entitled attitude the customer's attracted to such an establishment possessed. Needless to say, turnover rates were high. Management couldn't afford to lose anyone for something like a haircut or unconventional seating choices.

So, as always, Jasper kept his place on the counter, chatting with Emmett about their respective weeks. Rosalie had recently taken a job at The Gap for an excuse to spend more time at the mall that her father couldn't argue with. Emmett had needed to replace yet another part on his frequently failing vehicle setting him back yet again on those engagement ring plans. And Jasper's band had finally scored an opening gig at one of the better-known bars in the area. Sure it wasn't headlining, but for the unknown musician, it was a big deal.

After just short of an hour of conversation, Jasper was in the middle of excitedly going rambling about his dreams of getting away from the California suburbs. Of how he wanted to pack up and head down to Los Angeles and the fabled Sunset Strip, when the bell at the bar counter rang, signaling a customer was waiting for his presence.

What he expected was another irritated woman, upset that she'd had to wait more than thirty seconds for another Tab. Possibly even a man who would chastise him because he paid hundreds of dollars for his families club membership. A fact that the members assumed meant they should somehow receive instant service. What he hadn't anticipated was the absolute goddess waiting patiently at the counter.

She was short, with permed chin-length black hair that she teased her fingers through as she leaned against the counter, talking animatedly with a younger girl. When he stepped behind the bar, she looked over at him with a bright, breathtaking smile. The girl uttered only four words, "Two Coke Classics, please." in her high pitched musical voice.  They were spoken pleasantly, and her attention had been redirected to him entirely, in stark contrast to what he was used to. Typically customers would bark their orders in the mans' general direction before immediately resuming conversing with their companions.

It could have been the breath of fresh air that her attitude brought. Potentially the reason may have been how entirely simple Jasper found it to get lost in her clear blue eyes. In either instance, Jasper must have stood frozen, staring for too long as the girl frowned slightly, her eyes glancing up at the nametag clipped to his shirt collar. "Jasper?" She spoke again, concern lacing her words rather than annoyance.

His name on her lips sparked him into action, "My apologies, ma'am." He finally spoke, reaching into the belly cooler behind him for her order with butterflies beginning to swarm in his stomach.

[weshallc]

BERNS NIGHT (Revisited) 

Call the Midwife AU Crown Jewels fic (this one actually has Bernie in! She must have been in panto or something in January missed a few chapters)

CHAPTER FOUR: There In Thy Scanty Mantle Clad.

“There, in Thy Scanty Mantle Clad, Thy Snawie Bosom Sunward Spread.” To a Mountain Daisy by Robert Burns 1786

"I Hear Your Footsteps in the Streets, it Won't Be Long Until We Meet. It's Obvious." Oblivious by Aztec Camera 1983

 “Ouch, be careful!”

“Well stand still, Paddy,” Trixie scolded, “and I won’t accidentally prick you.”

“Is this really necessary?” whined the publican, not for the first time that hour.

“You want it the right length, don’t you?” admonished the determined dressmaker.

“That’s too short.” Paddy grumbled, swaying unsteadily on the rickety foot stool.

“No, it’s not.”

Patsy interrupted the squabbling confirming the kilt should hang from the top of the hip and finish at the top of the knee.

“This one is too high.” Paddy fiddled with the waistband.

“No, it’s not! It sits at the navel.” Getting up from her knees, Trixie playfully poked Paddy in the belly button.

The temporary male model wasn’t amused, and Delia felt some sympathy. “Right Doc, take it off now, so Chummy can alter it.”

Paddy hopped off the footstool, the green and blue checked woollen garment swaying around his thighs. He grabbed his jeans and headed out of Patsy’s studio towards the downstairs loo. Patsy, Delia and Trixie didn’t wait until he had closed the door behind him before they burst into giggles.

 Saturday 25th January 2020

Bernie wouldn’t want anyone to accuse her of being ungrateful, but she would have much rather spent her birthday at work. To be back in Poplar-on-Tweaven working behind the bar with Paddy rather than traipsing around Newcastle city centre with Trixie.

Saturday’s were usually fun at the Crown. Sundays you could always predict to be busy, due to the temptation of Violet’s Sunday lunches and the let’s have a nice day in the country crowd. Saturday’s were more unpredictable a lot depending on whether there was a match on. The football crowd had made Bernie nervous at first, but she had taken her lead from Val, who seemed to know the right mix between flirting and being one of the lads. She even surprised herself with her knowledge of the offside-rule and recognising a few players when they came in during the off-season.

“So, what about this one?” Trixie’s irritated voice broke through Bernie’s wistfulness. They were standing in Fenwick’s department store. Her friend was holding up a black mini dress bearing a large faint gold and red criss-cross pattern.

“Isn’t it a bit tartanie?” Bernie screwed up her nose.

Trixie tried very hard not to give anything away. “What’s wrong with tartan, your Scottish, don’t you just love tartan?”

Bernie bit her lip and tried to keep a level of calmness in her voice, “I am not that kinda Scottish.”

Trixie clanged the hanger back onto the rail in frustration. Bernie felt a twinge of guilt for exasperating her well-meaning friend.

“I will probably just wear my good jeans and a sparkly top, Trixie.” Bernie tried to reassure, with little success.

“But, Paddy is taking you out somewhere nice tonight, surely you want to look the part?”

Bernie took a deep breath, “The part?...the part of Paddy’s date! I am thinking jeans and a nice wee top will do just fine, Trixie.”

 It was several hours later, Bernie was looking at herself in the oak Cheval mirror in the corner of her bedroom. The little black dress with the red and gold criss-crosses did look quite nice on and it did have pockets, so that was a bonus. She heaved up her 40 denier black tights one last time. Why did they never make the small, small enough? She smiled, knowing if Chummy were in the room she would ask why they didn’t make extra large, extra enough.

A frown reflected back at her as she fiddled with her hair. Trixie had insisted on styling it with a mountain of product she had brought back from Boots. As a result, it now seemed to flick out in all directions. The would-be stylist had been very pleased with the finished article, and Bernie had smiled and made positive noises. She really wanted to put a brush through it and tie it back in a scrunchie like she did most days. Trixie’s sixth sense clicked in and she growled, “Leave it.”

They set out, tottering the short distance from Bernie’s cottage to the Crown Inn. Arm-in-arm, more for stability than out of friendship. Trixie in nine months of living just outside of Poplar had still not mastered walking on cobbles in heels. Bernie more used to ankle boots and trainers had let Trixie talk her into buying a pair of black below-the-knee boots in the January sales. Until today, the labels hadn’t been removed. She was convinced the young saleswoman and her friend had been in collusion. Eventually the overwhelming smell of leather, shoe polish and sweaty feet on an empty stomach had rendered the usually stubborn Bernie vulnerable. Well-honed sales techniques and Trixie’s promise of a Greggs’ vegan sausage roll to offset the purchase of leather eventually triumphed. These boots were definitely not made for walking, Bernie decided. She was however glad of the extra fabric as the north wind whistled around her shorter than usual hem line.

As if sensing her friend's awkwardness, Trixie squeezed her arm a little more tightly. “You look amazing, just don’t scuff those killer, fuck-me boots on the cobbles.”

This warning unsurprisingly had the opposite effect than intended, as Bernie stuttered to an abrupt halt and dropped her friend's arm.

“What?” Bernie shrieked in horror. Trixie grabbed back hold of her stabilizer and dragged her along, laughing so infectiously that Bernie couldn’t help but succumb.

“Why are you so tarted up anyway for a night in the Crown?”

“It’s your birthday and I thought you would be having a drink before heading off with Paddy. Just because it is a country pub doesn’t mean everyone has to always wear wellies and a jumper with a hole in it.”

Bernie’s mock indignation at Trixie’s jibe resulted in a snort as she tried to hold in a laugh. They were still sniggering as Trixie lunged forward and steadied herself by slapping her hand heavily against the inn’s bay window. She pulled herself up and then slapped her hand against the window one more time. Bernie, who was still giggling, just shrugged at her friend's clumsy behaviour.

“Bit slippy there, have to tell Paddy about that.” Trixie straightened up and smiled nervously.

“OK.” Bernie nodded somewhat bemused as she pushed open the large wooden doors of the old inn.

 Bernie later couldn’t recall if it was her eyes that first alerted her that something was different; the darkness giving the game away. Or it could have been her ears as they picked up the deep drone of the bagpipes. Maybe it was neither. Her skin tingling with goosebumps was more than likely the first sign that all was not as it should be.

After that initial physical reaction, her mind seemed to give up trying to make any sense of anything. It all became a blur. She remembered Trixie pushing her in the back and into the bar and placing something around her shoulders. There had definitely been cheering and then a very tuneless rendition of Happy Birthday accompanied by the bagpipes and a small band.

The pipes - bashful Kevin and his wee dog. At first she had thought Paddy or somebody had bought her a pet for her birthday. The poor wee thing was used to sitting and looking cute outside the town hall. Raising a paw every time someone dropped a coin in Kev’s mug. The animal had become a little overwhelmed by the commotion and sheer volume of people. Realizing that the lady who had just come through the door must be somehow responsible for the change in ambience; he could not resist jumping up at the new arrival with great enthusiasm. His owner was horrified, but unsure what was more important; to reprimand his charge or keep playing. Fortunately, the situation was resolved when a large pair of hands gently scooped up the tiny mongrel and calmed him down by whispering in his ear and letting him lick his face.

Bernie remembered Violet telling Reggie to take the excited guest through the back for a biscuit. The commotion had given Bernie time to take it all in, the low lighting, the table centres made up of thistles and blue and purple hyacinths, each with a thick white candle, flames dancing a jig on every table. The black, royal blue and red tartan tablecloths and a larger trestle table covered with a different checked pattern, a lighter blue and green with gold.

Bernie wasn’t given long to take it all in, as she was overwhelmed by hugs and kisses. Mostly from people she knew like the Noakes’, Fred, Jane, Phyllis and Julia along with a few she didn’t know, which was a bit disconcerting. Along with the displays of affection, cards and packages that were also pressed into her. Finding it very difficult to accept all the hugs from her friends and free herself from those who weren’t, Bernie found it impossible to balance all the gifts too. Fortunately Trixie had been prepared for this and took on the role of a lady-in-waiting, as if Bernie had suddenly been crowned the Princess of Poplar. The village's newest resident relished her role as best friend, relieving Bernie of her burdens as swiftly as she received them. Trixie may have had a colourful life, but she did like to be of use.

It was Val who finally rescued her from the wall of wellwishers. Taking Bernie by the hand, she took her behind the bar and up the stairs to the living accommodation. “Are you ready for your present?”

Exasperated by the recent unexpected events and not knowing what to expect next, Bernie just shrugged her shoulders. Secretly she was enjoying the calm of the Turner flat and not being the centre of attention. Val gave her a quick squeeze and told her, “Happy birthday, chick.” Opening the door to Paddy’s living room she added winking,

“You’re welcome.”

[withyounct]

Demon Jaemin x Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Words: 2.1k

Over the course of your lifetime you’ve died a total of five times, all different reasons and out of your control. Death, thoroughly done with the anomaly that is you, sends in his favorite demon Jaemin to “fix” the problem the next time you die.

Next 

A/n: I wrote this instead of studying. Enjoy 🌸

The loud pounding of your heartbeat was deafening. You could feel every stop in the arrhythmic motion, the irregularity  in it. The first thing that hit you was the pungent smell of sterile air heavily mixed with sulfur. It was a ghastly smell you’ve had the unfortunate pleasure of experiencing in the past. Sitting up from the cold wet ground, you frantically looked around your surroundings.

“No.” You said softly, confused to be back in the same white room. You looked to your left where you knew there was a single black desk with a man boringly jotting things down. You stared at the man, contemplating if you should get his attention and get this over with, or just sit there in the hope that this is all just a dream. Which essentially what it was; a dream.

After a few seconds his eyes fluttered up to you the bored look in his eyes started to fade, irritation setting in.

“Ah fuck it’s you.” He hissed. With haste he filtered through the countless folders sitting on the desk, presumably trying to find yours. “You have no idea how hard you make my job.” A string of complaints poured out of his mouth. The coldness of the room started to seep into your bones. Pulling your legs to your chest, you tried to maintain any body heat you had left. You watched as the man pulled out a folder that started to become black at the corners. He took one look at the folder than at you. Without a word he tossed it on the ground, not sparing it a glance as it combust into flames. A sigh left his lips as he leaned back in his chair.

“One day you won’t be so lucky, kid. And when that day comes I’ll personally drag your ass to the freezing pit.” The look in his eyes screaming murder.

The sound of your alarm caused you to jump up in fright; heavy breathing as you cautiously scanned your room. The sun just rising above the horizon, shedding a little light into the darkened room. A chill ran up your spine as you felt the damp fabric of your clothes. Confusion riddled you as the events of last night came flooding back.

You had gotten into a small fight with your friend Jeno at a party. It began to storm and you started to walk home. Despite fighting Jeno wanted to drive you, but you stubbornly refused. Other than that you didn’t remember anything, you didn’t know how you got home. Drinking wasn’t something you partook in, so the memory loss was unsettling.

Your second alarm made you looked down at your phone again which caused you to see the string of concern texts and calls from Jeno and a few other friends.

“Shit.” You quickly found his contact and waited for him to pick up.

“Y/n have you completely lost your mind! I get that you’re mad at me, but let someone, anyone, know you got home safe or at least answer your goddamn door. Mark and I were one second away from calling the police!” His voice blasted through the speaker.

“You came to my apartment?” You tossed your phone on the bed and started to peel off your rain soaked clothes.

“Of course. We pissed off the neighbors at how loud we were knocking.” The anger in his voice faded, concern replacing it. “Where were you?”

You walked in front of your mirror, eyes widening as saw the large lightning marks that ran down your neck to you back. The blotchy streaks protruding ever so slightly off the skin. “I don’t know. Here I guess.” Your voice small, distant. Fingers trailed up and down the markings, hot to the touch despite how cold your body felt.

There was a silence then a quiet sigh from his side. “Listen it’s still raining out. Please let me take you to class. We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.”

“Jen I don’t think that’s a good idea. It was a stupid fight and I'm not angry anymore. I just- I’ll see you later okay.” You didn’t wait for his reply as you grabbed your phone to end the call. You immediately searched up everything about getting struck by lightning and the possibility of sudden acute memory loss, but of course there was nothing linking the two.

Feeling another chill run through your body you decided to take a shower in the hopes of heating you up. Very carefully you washed around the marks, unsure about putting pressure on it. After the significantly hotter than usual shower you got dress for class. Spring was coming up around the corner, winter fading away as the days past. Despite the warm weather out, you grabbed one of your turtlenecks from the back of the closet. fixing the collar to make it sure it securely covered any marks you grabbed your umbrella and headed out.

By all accounts it was a warm humid morning, the light rain only adding to the humidity. Normally you would be already sweating, but you couldn’t stop shivering. Folding your arms across your chest, letting your umbrella lean on your shoulder, you tried to stop your teeth from chattering. A random gust of wind smacked you in the face as you regretted your decision in turning down Jeno. You quicken your pace as you reached campus, practically gunning it to the psychology department.

Walking past your usual spot in the front of the classroom you opted for sitting in the back where the heater was. Not really up for paying attention, you opened your laptop to record the lesson. Being your only class of the day you were more there for the attendance than anything.

Pulling out your phone you decided to stop being a shitty friend and text back in the group chat that you’ve been avoiding all morning. After apologizing for falling off the face of the planet and worrying them you suggested that the group should grab a bite to eat after all there classes were done for the day. Surprisingly they were quick to agree. A silent sigh left your lips, there was a bit of tension from last night, so you were thankful that they wanted to squash it as quickly as you.

The hour and a half flew by and you made you way to your favorite off campus café.

“I was wondering were my favorite customer was.” Kun smiled from behind the counter.

“As a store owner I don’t know if that’s something you can yell. What about your other patrons?” You joked, swiping your card as he started making your regular order.

“They mean nothing.” Jaehyun said as he appeared from the back. He avoided a smack from Kun as he handed you a fresh muffin. “A free muffin for a cute muffin.” He smiled.

A grimace made its way on your face. “That was the worst one yet.” You laughed, thanking him as you took that plate in hand.

Taking your drink from Kun, you wandered to the back. Opening your laptop you typed in something that had been bothering you since you woke up.

The freezing pit.

His words repeatedly cycled through your mind. The markings on your body was concerning, but something you would figure out later. With no real direction you typed in the first thing that came in mind. Dante’s Inferno.

“What disgusting weather.” A figure whined, leaning his umbrella on his shoulder as he watched you from outside the café. A playful smile graced his lips as he took the deciding steps into the building. You were too busy immersed in your reading to notice him. He gently nodded at the baristas and made his way over to you. Your eyes traveled upward as he wordlessly sat down. The confused expression was adorable in his eyes. He offered up a simple smile as he watched your eyes turn from confusion to slight horror.

The smell was the first thing you noticed. It was masked, but impossible to miss. Sulfur. You looked at the man sitting across you. He was different from the man in your ‘dream’. He was younger, seemingly somewhere around your age, with pastel pink hair. He was too handsome that he didn’t seem real. There was an otherworldly feel about him. You watched as he gently closed your laptop with one hand as the other materialized a folder out of thin air. He placed it down for the both of you to see.

“So I’ve heavily debated all morning what I was going to do. Do I just watch you secretly from a distance or properly meet you. I went with the more fun option.” He smiled. There was something off putting about as he glanced down at the papers. “Y/n, death a total of five times. The current one being last night at 1:38 am by lightning. How unlucky. You spent approximately two minutes in the waiting room before you magically, for the fifth time, disappeared back to the world of the living.” Closing the folder he looked back up at you. You were frozen, unable to truly comprehend what was going on.

“This isn’t real.” You were dumbfounded. You leaned back in your chair wanting to move away from him, but not having the ability to make your legs move. You were about to yell to get Kun or Jaehyun’s attention, but as if he could read your mind he laughed.

“Those two are taking a little nap in the back and I’ve locked the door, so no one could bother us.”  He leaned forward grabbing hold of your wrist, you immediately tried to squirm away, fear rising. He flipped your hand over and started drawing something on your palm. As soon as he was done he let you go. To held your hand close to your chest, eyes widened in fright.

“Check it.” He pointed at your neck. Hesitantly, you pulled down your collar, surprised that the marks were gone. “I didn’t mean to scary you, that wasn’t my intention.” He apologized. “However, it was the quickest way to get you to a certain understanding.”

Looking up at him you were both terrified and intrigued. There were so many questions, so many holes in your life that didn’t makes sense. Instances that you would just blame as a dream, nightmares, that you knew deep down were real.

“You’re a demon.” The steadiness in your voice surprised you both.

“Jaemin.” He nodded, smiling. He opened your folder again.

“Every time you came back to life shifted the stability of the realms in some way. For example, it was supposed to be a sunny day, however.” He pointed outside as a crack of lighting lit up the cloudy sky. “Death is understandingly ticked off.”

“The guy in the black suit?”

“No, that’s Doyoung. He’s more so the accountant for both heaven and hell. He keeps track of where souls go. He’s more pissed at you than death. He’s normally really nice, but he’s a bit of a perfectionist and you’ve repeatedly messed up his numbers.” He waved off. “The thing is when someone dies their placement is written in the folder. Yours is always empty and sixty seconds after your death your folder starts to burn and you disappear. We’ve already ruled out celestial help. The angels are as confused as us. Even if you were some type of witch you wouldn’t be able to get past Death, let alone Doyoung.” Sitting there you tried to retained everything he laid out in front of you, only offering up little nods.

“You’re calmer than I expected.” He accused suddenly, taking a piece off your forgotten muffin to eat.

You shrugged. “I woke up with lightning marks all over my body with no recollection of how I got home. Which isn’t the strangest thing that’s happened to me. I don’t know what’s going on, but I'm willing to believe anything at this point.” You answered honestly. “But I have to ask that Doyoung guy said something about the ‘freezing pit’. Am I hell bound?”

Completely sliding the plate his way, he chuckled. “No, most likely not. Like I said you tend to bring the worst out in him, but he has no power in where you go. But that brings me to why I'm here.” The somewhat causal air between you two turned dark, tensed. “There’s a thirty second window where no one knows where you go before you get back to the land of the living. The next time you meet your unfortunate end I'm going to make sure you stay dead.”

A chill running up your spine caused you to shiver. The forgotten smell of sulfur working its way back to your senses. Clarity in your fate as you looked upon the being that you were undoubtedly going to see for the rest of your natural life.

[gelo-p]

Blooming in ZERO: Memories

I’ve decided to T100 the Re:ZERO collaboration! Let’s review how it went. XD

WARNING! A rather image-heavy post

Step 1: Roll for Rinko! (She’ll make my team stronger) Strictly speaking, I didn’t need her (means more work though), but I thought maybe I’ll get lucky? ^o^

I only had enough stars for 3 10-pulls though, and I have to say, this paid gacha was really tempting... (my Twitter friends all got Rinko WTF)

I’m broke though ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

We would quickly learn that we were overloading the servers, LOL. The game was very unplayable during the first two hours. During my first roll, the connection actually timed out D:

When I logged back in, I saw my stars got deducted, but thankfully I had new members in the waiting room. ^^

I actually got the limited Ako during that very first roll!

And so I tried again.

Fuck my luck. I’ve done 3 10-pulls, and all of them sucked.

Time to start playing I guess...

Oh right. The connection was bad.

Really bad. >_<

It’s been a while since I met coldgaze (P3), a fellow T10 from the Cycling Seasons event! That guy rarely shows up in the public rooms, LOL.

Also, we got a login campaign for 2500 stars! Which means another 10-pull! ^o^

...Why did I even think my luck would improve. >_>

Know what?

I SUMMON THEE! BLACK FRIDAY SALES!!!

MWAHAHAHAHAHA RIP wallet-kun, RIP being an F2P player 2020-2020

I swear to Babanbo-sama, if I don’t get Rinko using the paid gacha-

OMG D:

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE-

YESSSSSSSSSS

I am now a believer in the Babanbo religion.

WHAT? Had I known I would be rolling both Rinko and Ako in this single paid gacha I would have started with this and avoided wasting 10k stars!!!

>_<

(Of course, I couldn’t have known. Although in hindsight, I definitely should have tried rolling the paid gacha first... but then we only got the Black Friday sale news after I already spent 10k free stars, so... ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ )

Fuck yes, Rinrin. Fuck yes.

I already had a good 4* Yukina, so I didn’t really need to roll for her anymore. Not to say I didn’t want her ^^

Anyway let the tiering continue!

First checkpoint: Almost at T100!

Let’s talk about Unite! A to Z for a bit.

I’ve been tiering since forever and one of the many gripes casual players like me (yes. I’m casual) is that a lot of the more serious players go into the public rooms and just spam the hell out of this song. I understand why they do it (tl;dr - short length, high score, aka “meta song”), and I can’t really stop them from doing it.

There are other meta songs, like Jumpin’, that give a little less score for a little longer duration, but players really, and I mean really, like to spam A to Z. I could argue that you can’t really get the full benefit of A to Z 100% of the time (players take time picking songs and difficulty anyway, and you’re not always going to be consistent with your score), so in the long run, there’s no significant harm in picking other meta songs (maybe I should do the math..?), but no.

For those players, 100% AtoZ.

And it’s gotten really annoying, to the point that players like the one in the screenshot just straight-up disconnects when AtoZ is picked.

Anyway, back to the story. ^o^

WTF? Why is Gigguk (the #77 guy) tiering? XD Is that really Gigguk?

Who knows? XD

99 ILLUSION IS MY LIFE

I feel bad for P4, LOL. Surrounded by Yukina cards. XD

WE ARE UNSTOPPABLE

Progress report: T35!

I took this screenshot just as I finished a game of AtoZ...

...and the game disconnects WTF GIVE ME MY FLAMES AND EFFORT BACK

(the score’s a bit higher since it wasn’t completely tallied yet when I took the 1st screenshot)

I’ve seen Bad Wifi Pam a couple of times during my entire Bandori career and when I saw this, all I could think was-

“Is it finally gonna happen?? IS IT!?”

“YESSSS!” XD

I’m sorry Bad Wifi Pam, but that moment really felt like I saw the DVD logo diving into the corner XD

I hope they didn’t lose too many flames though.

I told you, people just hate AtoZ XD

We didn’t sign up for a rhythm that only has one song, come on!

My connection got bad a couple of times and I was punished for it. >_<

There are 2 impostors among us.

P3, when has that ever stopped them LOL

UGH tell me about it, P4.

FINALLY A RANDOM ROO-

WHAT-

WHY, P1 WHY!?

I changed my name to encourage Random songs ^^

..not that it would work, but whatever.

We more than managed to...

Stay Alive. ;D

I’ll see myself out.

WTF is this, a Mexican Standoff???

More AtoZ haters (also known as Etuze, well, coz that’s how Aya pronounces it... We love you Aya! :”> )

Finally ran out of drinks.

It was time to burn stars for flames.

:|

:|

:|

:|

(That Orion guy ended up as T9, BTW. There’s more incentive to AtoZ spam when going for T10, but it doesn’t make it any less annoying for me.)

MY PC DIED WTF

It got fixed after a restart though, so thank fuck.

Now that I think about it, I need to really get down to the bottom of my GPU issues.

LOL, one time I picked Happy Synthesizer for the lulz, and one of the AtoZ spammers disconnected :)))

TBF, nobody likes to see Happy Synthesizer in Multi.

I’ve decided to be an asshole and just delay AtoZ. Oh? What’s that? AtoZ again? here, let me take 30 seconds to pick a difficulty.

Please note that this is an asshole move, since the other players are gonna get dragged into it. But I was really sick of it.

Hey! A friend that also hates AtoZ!

Anybody wants Miracle Crystals? -_-

Someone actually copied my name WTF XD

Woke up on the 2nd-to-the-last morning to see myself almost out of T100 contention.

Check out my challenge points tho. 8-)

It was time to burn them!

STOP THE COUNT! STOP THE COU-

Yeah nah fuck you. Count them all.

Aaaaaand we’re done! I parked at... this score, and I was fairly confident I’d still be in T100. ^^

...Unfortunately, I woke up the following morning to see that Bestdori projected the cutoff to be at 10.6M. That is waaay too close to 11M for comfort. So I panicked and played some more, even got to Level 230 in the process XD

Eventually the cutoff never really reached 11M, so I guess I didn’t have to? :3

I’d rather regret the extra effort though, than potentially lose T100 standing.

Now we’re done. 8-)

Just waiting for the event to end!

AAAND EVENT OVER! *victory fanfare*

LOL one of the T10′s got banned. Don’t cheat, kids.

IT’S HEEEEREEEEE

YukiRan SayoLisa YukiRan SayoLisa YukiRan SayoLisa YukiRan SayoLisa-