#i need a fresh start across the board so i will be making a new discord too
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austerulous · 1 year ago
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Okay, so I’ve decided to move to the new blog sooner than expected.  Give this post a like or leave a comment and I’ll follow you once it’s passably set up.
It was a good run and I’m grateful for everything I got to do here. ♡
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bunny584 · 6 months ago
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OBSESSED: TOJI
A/N: You’re booked. Busy. Filled to the brim with board meetings. Then your car decides to stop functioning. There’s one mechanic shop open and somehow they seem to only hire God’s sweetest eye candy. One of which keeps getting stuck in the back of your throat. Uh—I mean—
S/N: Toji Mother-Fucking (literally) Fushiguro. Idk why it took me so long to feature this green-eyed monster but I am foaming at the mouth for this AU, him, and his lil vampy co-worker. Toji girlies, can’t WAIT to rush Toji Tau Sigma this fall 🙂‍↕️
C/W: ….he’s his own CW. Mature, 18+. MDNI.��
Art credit: yashaliart_01 on insta
Music: for the love of God if you don’t listen to Obsessed x Mariah Carey I’m calling the coast guard. Reader wants to pretend Toji is not her newest vice so BAD. Ive never laughed so hard and been so painfully turned on writing a piece. SOMEONE tell me not to make this a series RN.
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“Can I get a little help here?”
Toji grabs the rag nestled in the back pocket of his heavy work cargos. Charcoal ink stains the fabric. 
Bugatti engines are such a bitch. And make a mess like one too. 
“Hello? Am I talking to a wall or..?”
And just like that, you’ve earned yourself a few more seconds of silence. 
The mechanic’s Evergreen gaze and satisfied smirk peer back at him in the mirror. Not even a second passes before you ensnare him in your fiery scrutiny. 
Ahh, yes. Just his type. 
You are mean. 
With a sexy fucking silhouette. An angry merlot painted on those beautiful, pouted lips. A fresh manicure and keys to your Benz dig into hips that have definitely stopped traffic. 
The mirror image isn’t enough of a bite. Toji needs a real taste, so he turns around to lock eyes with his new favorite unsatisfied customer. 
“Mornin, doll.” 
“Nice of you to grace me with your presence! I was starting to think no one worked here.” 
Melodramatic, the way you narrow your gaze to bring his name tag into focus. It’s hot, though. All this sarcasm and irritation. 
“—Toji? Is it?” You hiss venom. Clearly there’s a point you’re in a hurry to make. 
But..
it’s 7:13 AM on a lovely Monday morning.  Birds are singing. The Red Bull he just downed was particularly delicious. Life is good, right now. 
Toji has all the time in the world. 
He’s in no rush. Especially when a stunning, uptight, bratty little thing — sorry, career woman — like you woke up and chose him to be your personal punching bag. 
And he’s built to take hits. From fists much, much larger than yours, gorgeous.  
“Toji, it is. What can I do for you, darlin?” 
And he knew that sweet, innocent pet name would dump diesel fuel all over those pretty flames. 
You ramble off your full name as if he is going to use it. By the time he’s through with you, you won’t have any use for it either. 
His name, though. You’ll have plenty use for his name. 
“…and when the stupid thing turns on this morning, the dash light won’t turn off.” 
Toji lands on earth just in time to clasp the car keys shoved into his chest. You’re gawking at him. Expecting a fury of motion and urgency. Because your charming little fingers demand it. 
So accustomed to time stopping and starting on your watch, aren’t you? 
“You’re so pretty.” Toji responds with a shit eating grin. 
Just for the huffing and puffing you’re currently displaying. Sputtering about how unprofessional he is. And how much work you have to get done. 
Adorable. 
Toji slips past your disdain and makes his way to the front door. Matte black G-Wagon with a champagne interior. The vision of you behind the wheel, scowling at traffic, in your tailored dress and stilettos makes his cock twitch. 
“She’s a beauty.” He calls from the driver seat. 
“That’s why I bought it. Can you please pick up the pace a little?”
Both arms are folded across your chest, eyes rolling at his wasted breath stating the obvious. 
You’re going to look phenomenal when he has those defiant arms pinned above your head. He’ll diminish those daggers in your eyes to tears. And make those puffy lips whimper for mercy. 
Toji will have you begging him to pick up the pace in no time. Your snarky comment was just a test run. 
The mechanic lets out a low chuckle, his eyes scan the dash for the source of your apparent distress. 
The tire pressure gauge. 
Really, gorgeous? This is why you’re screwed so tightly this morning? 
It should take approximately 3 minutes to fix. But there’s no way Toji is letting you slip away from his skilled fingers so easily. Not when you need to be unwound.
Unraveled bit by bit until you’re a warm, sweet, puddle of manners and gratitude. 
“Alright, babydoll—“
“My name is—“
“I’ll have my guys get to workin on it, sweetheart.” 
He can play this game all day. You scoff. Temporarily placated by his promise of a fix. 
“It’s an all day job, though.” Toji’s right hand man comes into view. 
The only other guy in the shop (on the planet) to get as much play as he does without meaning to. 
Women are insane about his stupid, empty-headed, love-drunk stare. And the purple rings around his eyes like the last time he got sleep was in his mother’s womb. Always giggling and asking about “the hot one with the pigtails” and “the pretty one with the tattoo on his nose.”
If he were a less confident man, Toji would’ve called someone else over. But the kid gets his antics. 
And today is going to be stuffed with them. 
“Choso! Can you take this beauty to the back for repair?” 
Dracula’s first born is sporting his hair down today. Already a bit damp from work. He gives you a once over, then offers a smile that evaporates underwear off of women. 
“Happy to. Which beauty am I taking to the back?”
“Ha, quit your lover boy shit.” Toji teases, and you sneer at his hypocrisy. 
“The car, big guy. Have it ready by 5:00, yeah?”
“5:00 pm?” You do a thing with your hands eventually landing on your hips. And Toji’s dick leaks like a virgin. 
“Well, there must be a courtesy rental. My first meeting starts in an hour.”
“I’m so sorry, miss. We don’t have that.” 
Kamo, you slick fuck. 
Choso apologizes with his signature puppy-eyes and half open mouth. Even you, made of sharp words and soft curves. Goddess of Fire and Ice, you melt under his gaze. 
Toji snickers to himself, while you stutter to a shockingly patient understanding. 
Something about the boy looking half asleep and like he can’t string letters together to spell his own name always does the trick. Leaving you wide open for the kill. 
“Tell you what, sweetheart.” Toji moves in with an assassin’s expertise. 
“Consider me your courtesy rental.”
“I’m sorry—what?” You flicker between the two smiles, rightfully suspicious. 
“I’ll get you from point A to point B, safe and sound.” The mechanic offers again with a broad smile, dangling his own car keys in his hand. 
Pensive eyes drop down to your watch. Board meetings start soon and he is offering a courtesy ride. 
“Fine.” Finally, a little submission. 
“It’s a 10 minute drive. The high rise on the corner of Koen and Mitake street.” 
The financial district. No wonder why you’re so tightly wound. 
“I know exactly, where we are going.” Toji beams. Beating your slender fingers to the passenger door. You barely mutter a ‘thanks’ before settling into the seat. 
You in your heels. And suit jacket. And handbag that costs enough to feed a large family for 6 months. Nestled so perfectly into his passenger seat. Toji can’t help but acknowledge how hard his dick is right now. 
The career woman clearly doesn’t approve of how fast he is hurling down corner streets. But you should understand, no? Places to be, and all that jazz?
“Uh, I’m sorry, where exactly are you taking me?” You perk up. Darting those beautiful warm eyes at the very short building in front of you. 
Not the corner of Koen and Mitake street, but Toji’s favorite coffee shop about 3 blocks over. The only place in the city that can get an Americano right - La Parisian. 
Toji grins maniacally. Pulling his sports car into a front row spot. 
“Point A, darlin.”
“Look, I don’t know what kind of game you are playing but I swear—“
“C’monnn. Lighten up.” He turns to face your incredulous expression. You wear it well, by the way.
“People stand when you walk in a room.” He continues. “They’ll still stand if you’re 5 minutes late and properly caffeinated.” 
Silence. Two huffs. A bitten lower lip. And one long, drawn out sigh.
“Fine. 5 minutes, max. Then I’ve got to get going I have—“
“Meetings baby, I know.” Toji finishes you off. 
He steps out of the driver’s seat fast enough to be at your door before your fingers touch the handle. 
The two of you walk in stride (in Toji’s mind) to the cafe. It’s adorable how you beeline towards the pastry display. Salivating over the various treats. Doing the thing women do, badgering the person manning the register about nutritional details. 
As if your figure wouldn’t make any living red-blooded human being fall to their knees. 
“What can I get started for you?” The barista probes. 
“I’ll have a soy London Fog latte, please.” You flicker over to the dessert you think you’re leaving behind. 
“And?” Toji probes. He taps the glass in front of the vanilla macaroon.
Another crack in the shield. You flash him a genuine smile for 0.04 seconds before turning back to the register.
“…and a vanilla macaroon, please.” You’re cute when you’re sheepish. 
“And I’ll have the largest iced Americano you can make, thanks.” 
Toji closes out the transaction and you two mosey over to a small table by a window. Your shoulders relax with the first sip of coffee. 
A satisfied grin tugs on your chauffeur’s lips. He knew what you needed the second he laid eyes on you. 
Much to your chagrin, and Toji’s delight — conversation flows like a bottomless well between you. The second something warm and another thing sweet landed on your tongue — the shield crumbled down. 
You’re an account executive. 
You work 80+ hour weeks. 
Live in an uppity neighborhood with a Doberman named Rocky. You got him because you like walking around at night to clear your mind. Having a dog taller than you on its hind legs and probably twice your size has eased your anxiety about that. 
You have a mean sweet tooth. 
And you’re single. Have been for the last year or so. 
“And not looking to change that anytime soon.” You reiterate, tossing him a look. 
Toji holds his hands up in feigned defeat. “I wasn’t plannin’ on it, sweetheart.” 
You’ve warmed up to his pet names, albeit against your will. But you’re there. The both of you harmonize light-hearted laughter. Fitting together like missing puzzle pieces.
“Your eyes are so green.” 
A rather obvious observation of your own, after a few moments of comfortable silence. 
As if your eyes don’t bend time. 
Toji catches his breath before responding. 
“They are…your kids could have ‘em too, if you want.” 
You burst into another fit of giggles. Unknowingly driveling rogue pastry on your chin. Babbling on and on about how ridiculous he is. And how cheesy his pick up lines are.
Meanwhile, you’re sitting there all high powered and intelligent. With a smile that makes him want to be a better man than he is. 
…and pastry all over your chin. 
Yeah. 
He’s going to marry you one day. 
Toji reaches over and swipes the macaroon off your chin. A sharp gasp tumbles from your lips, staring at his fingers. Which Toji slips into his mouth. 
He’s a betting man and would put money down on the fact that the dessert tastes exponentially better off of your skin. 
“Toji!!” 
“What else can I do for you?” Each word more smug than the last. 
“You could’ve told me I had food on my face!” Bunny lines along your nose deepen when you frown and Toji’s cock throbs to life. 
“Why?” The mechanic shrugs. “I wanted to lick it off instead.” 
The choppy inhale is music to Toji’s ears. You avoid him. Like the plague. Peeling your gaze away and planting it on the side window. Under the guise of people watching. 
But Toji knows better. 
He doesn’t miss the way you struggle to swallow your last bite. Or your thighs coming together so aggressively beneath the small table, rip tides break the surface of his Americano. 
“I felt that, baby.” Toji leans in. Shameless about the way he scans your face. 
Your lips should be outlawed.
The bottom one is marginally fuller than the top, so it naturally hangs a bit open. Inviting the most vile thoughts from his cock. Toji’s rational mind went to sleep the second you climbed into his passenger seat, princess. 
“What?” You sputter, gulping down the rest of your U.K. cloudy cappuccino, or whatever. 
“I don’t know what you’re referring to.” Your voice is steady, but the fidgeting and cagey eye contact hold the truth. 
Oh, really? 
“You’re squirming in your seat.” Toji counters, unblinking. Filling as much of your personal space as he can without tipping over. 
“Quick to cross your legs—“
“Toji!” 
Is your underwear as sticky as your face is flushed? Saliva pools in one direction, warm pre-cum pools in the other. 
“You are so out of—“
“All that talkin’ and you haven’t denied it once, doll.”
Toji’s palm digs into his crotch underneath the table. You are fucking his brain smooth with the raspberry blush along your nose and high cheeks. Sure, the sarcasm and ball-busting is hot, but this? 
The Career Woman suddenly so flustered and shy? 
You’re already thawed out. All he needs to do is dive in. 
Toji blinks back to reality when you rocket up from the table at warped speed. Your fingers clumsily fondle the zipper of your purse. 
“Excuse me for a minute.” You’re halfway to the restroom stalls by the end of your sentence.
The mechanic lasers down to the serpentine curve of your hips. Your plump, perky ass is just begging to be handled. It’s a felony, the way your work dress hugs your body. 
Is he really going to do this?
Heat slams into his groin. Wave after wave of lust slowly chipping at his teetering self-control. 
You might slap him. 
Call him a goddamn pervert. 
…and just the thought of either of those things makes his dick beat against his zipper. 
Fuck it. 
Toji is slick, how he maneuvers his way over to the restrooms. Both single-use stalls occupied, he walks up to you muttering some kind of pep talk to yourself. 
“Get your shit together.” You spit out. 
Amused, Toji leans against the wall behind you. Curious about where this cute little speech is going to go. 
“He’s a rando you met at a mechanic shop. For fuck sake, are you that horny?”
“Sounds like it, baby.” Toji takes the liberty to answer. You whip your head around and crawl out of your skin. 
Eyes wider than a newborn kitten. Mouth gaping as if you’re trying to show off how much you can handle. Toji swallows a groan. He can’t lose control. Not a chance. He has to savor his first taste of you like this. And every taste after that. 
Because, the weather in Hell is a balmy 0 degrees Fahrenheit and you are his, now. 
“I—uh, I—“ Your eyes dart over to the poor soul opening the bathroom door in slow motion. 
You think you’ve found an out, gorgeous?
Toji is faster and bigger than you are. Gripping the handle of the open door, ushering you into his new lair. Still choking on the shock of him catching your admission, you look to your left and right before diving into the empty bathroom. 
“Toji I…” 
Your back hits the wall and eyes settle on your hands. Shifty and nervous. Toji palms himself at the sight of you caged in like this. 
He’s disgusting, he knows that. 
And normally, he would ask permission. Being a gentleman and all. 
But there’s something too alluring about the way you’re trembling right now. The obvious conflict written all over your face, and heaving chest…and tense thighs…
His cock can’t take another second. 
And apparently neither can you. 
Because the second his fingers cup the back of your neck and his breath grazes your mouth you crash into him. Slotting your puffy lips into his, taking him by surprise for a millisecond. 
“Oh, T-toji.” You whine into his mouth. Grasping at his shoulders that are far too wide, far too muscular for your dainty grip.
Fucking, christ. 
Hearing his name like that. 
The gorgeous, high-pitched, pathetic plea trails down his ears to his aching sex and jerks it. If his cargos were any lighter you would’ve seen the pre-pubescent mess he’s making in his pants right now. 
But they aren’t. And you don’t. 
You mewl at how Toji nips at your bottom lip. Sinking it underneath his teeth until its swells to his liking. Melting beneath his large grasp, currently riding the dizzying lines of your hips and ass. 
“You taste fucking good, baby.” Toji mumbles into your warm cavern. Licking along the warm, soft ridges. 
“Ah-T..god.” You pull away and dive into his neck. Attempting to hide your utterly fucked out daze, but he won’t let you. 
Toji palms your ass with a tenth of his strength. You yelp and jump into his arms. He takes advantage of the momentum and lifts you high on his waist. Temporarily forcing you to look down on him.
Glassy eyed. Kiss abused lips. Panting and heaving. Cupping his face like your hands were made to. 
And something tight clenches in Toji’s chest. It takes a moment for him to shake it off, but it existed.
He’ll revisit that later.
“You look good up there, babydoll.” He pants, before setting you down on the sink ledge. He catches your chin in his hand before you turn away. Rooting you in place. 
“I…Toji.” 
Moaning his name like you’re begging for him to start and stop all at once. 
Your eyes descend to his lips. Watching the smirk blossoming across his face. Distracted enough not to notice his free hand shove up your dress in one swift motion. 
Your thighs recognize his authority and melt wide open for him. He kisses your tiny whimpers while nestling between them. 
“Mmmgh g-god please.” 
“This why you were so bratty this mornin baby?” 
Toji’s index and long fingers stroke your soaked, clothed core. Thin lace panties plastered to your warm sex. You wind your hips into his fingers. Batting your eyelashes up at him as if he’s going to give you what you want so easily.
He hovers his lips over yours. Pulling away each time you lunge forward for a kiss. Pouty and frustrated, you dig your nails into his neck and grind along his stationary fingers. 
“T-Toji, please…I’m so..ahh.”
“Needy cunt just wanted some attention, mm?” 
His fingers slip past your opening, and you offer up a soprano moan that shatters to stardust. 
Hedonistic noises fill the spaces between both of your punched out gasps. You’re fucking tight. Gummy, slick walls clamp down around his knuckles when he curves up to pet your pleasure spot. 
The steel pipe between his legs throbs against his thigh. Demanding friction. But one hand is cupping your chin and the other is so pussy drunk an army couldn’t pry his fingers away. 
“T..I—I’m oh fuck I—“
Toji bites down on your bottom lip. And you clench around him. Gushing more of your sweet arousal into his palm. And he damn near laps it up with his greedy tongue. 
“Shhh baby,” he coos against your jaw. 
“Can’t have everyone hearing the Executive getting fucked open by some mechanic’s hands can you?” 
There is a delicious irony in you treating him like a punching bag no more than an hour ago and now bucking your hips on his fingers, chasing an ever elusive high.
Sandpaper lines Toji’s throat. 
He wants nothing more than to bounce you on his cock in this bathroom. Fill you up with his cum and send you to your meetings full of him. 
But you haven’t learned your lesson yet.
“What did I promise baby?” Toji strains in your ear. His hand migrates from your chin to your neck, while his fingers ‘pick up the pace a little.’
His pretty little powerhouse. 
You babble a chorus of nothing. Unable to breathe, unable to think. Only drip. And leak. And squelch around his digits. Toji tightens the grip around your pulse point. Lulling your mouth open.  
“Talk to me, princess. What did I promise you?” He probes again, stealing air from your lungs. 
Tha—y-you would…p—point A.” Barely audible syllables tumble out of you. Ascending in pitch. Your hips reflexively try to pull away from your threatened orgasm.
“Keep going, I’m listenin.” 
“Oh fuck T..Toji?! I-Im c-im gonna—”
“I know, baby.” He smears wet kisses along your jawline. “ I can hear how messy your precious little pussy is. But I didn’t give you permission to stop. Keep going.”
Your walls spasm at his command. Followed by an angelic pitiful little whine. You’re close. So close. 
“P-P-point A to—“
“Point B.” 
Toji finishes your sentence as you reach nirvana. Full body convulsions. He slots his arms around the small of your waist. And it fits like it was molded for him. Like you were sculpted for him.
And he, for you.
The mechanic burns his gaze into your skin. Riding each choppy wave of your ecstasy. Such tiny, sexy sounds. Staccato breaths fanning his lips, his chin, his neck when you try to hide from his scrutiny. 
You are a goddamn dream. 
And his future wife.
Toji guessed it when the macaroon balanced on your chin for a full 30 seconds before he swiped it away and you accused him of defamation of character. 
But now? 
Watching you saddle this stallion of an orgasm. Clawing at his back with all the desperation of a pretty little damsel in distress. 
Distress at just his fingers, alone. 
What intoxicating melody will he unlock when he laps up the honey straight from your core? How will you gasp and moan and squirm when he single-handedly re-shapes your cunt to accommodate his size? 
He has no clue. 
But Toji will spend forever figuring you out. And mastering you.
The back of your neck fits beautifully into his grasp as he coaxes you from hiding. Pupils blown out. Cheeks flushed and warm. Tendrils matted along your forehead. Before he can speak, you beat him to the punch.
Of course you do. 
“I’ve decided,” You pant. The baseline spice returning to your grin. 
“That you might just be obsessed with me, Toji.” 
Both of you share a hushed laugh. Exchanging cotton candy breaths. But then his lips accidentally brush yours and Toji can’t help but dive in for a kiss. Fucking the warm cavern of your mouth with his tongue. 
You pull away before he’s ready, with a look on your face that makes him feel like a God. 
“I might be.” Toji whispers, partially against his will. His lips find the corner of your mouth. Careful to avoid falling victim to your pout again.
“Let’s get you to the other point B, baby.” 
The car ride to your office could make anyone queasy. 
Constant banter back and forth. Full bodied laughs. You mindlessly stroking his forearm with those angelic fingers riling his cock up as if it just now discovered women. 
You let out a small sigh, with slightly dropped shoulders when your office building comes into view. Toji doesn’t know how to interpret it. But for him? Reality is coming too quickly.
“So,” You start once the both of you are out of the car. Pretty face tilting up and Toji’s dick strains against its confines.
“What do I owe you, Mr. Fushiguro?” 
The way you say his name.
It takes the will of God for Toji to bite back his original response.
“Nothin, doll.” He’s wearing the same, dumb, love-struck face Choso wears on a daily basis. Shockingly, Toji couldn’t care less. 
“The tires just needed air. Choso will drop it off in an hour.” 
He would do it himself. But the urge to park in an empty lot and abuse the fuck out of his cock until a shred of clarity re-settles in his mind is a tad bit overwhelming, sweetheart.
Then your mouth drops in an incredulous ‘Oh’ and all Toji can picture is ruining the back of your throat. How pretty you are going to be wretching around his girth. Gasping for air. Choking on his cum. 
“Toji. Fushiguro.” You like using his name, don’t you?
“You held me hostage for a whole morning for some air—“
Toji kisses the rest of your complaints off your tongue. And you whine. Slot open for him with no resistance. Because under all that irritation and sarcasm, buried within the Trojan Horse, lays your supple, delectable submission. 
And he will take every opportunity to taste it. 
“I had a great time on our first date, babydoll.” Toji rasps against your swollen lips. 
The raging erection is threatening to embarrass him. There’s not enough restraint in the world to be around you any longer. Toji nestles your voice in his back pocket. The two of you watch each other with wordless, taken aback smiles as he takes slow steps toward his sports car.
Before the mechanic sinks into the driver’s seat, he makes a promise.
“Can’t wait for our second date, Mrs. Fushiguro!”
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art · 10 months ago
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Creator Spotlight: @jijidraws
Jiji Knight is a latina pinup illustrator. Her work is overall geared toward thick ladies and dedicated to fat positivity out of a purely selfish need to create art she wished she had seen growing up. She often features sexy and soft macabre themes on vibrant or sweet colours and takes great joy in making folx feel good about themselves with her work. She holds a Bachelor of Fine Arts in Illustration and operates out of her very sunny hometown of Las Vegas.
Check out our interview with Jiji below!
Have you ever had an art block? If so, how did you overcome it?
Oh my gosh… I have art blocks all the time. My favorite way of overcoming it is by making fanart. Funnily enough, that’s something I don’t do in my own work anymore. But there are still IPs I return to that still bring joy to my heart. I love returning to drawing Sailor Moon like when I was in first grade. Or I’ll even look up the last fashion week and start drawing the fashion week outfits from the Paris or New York show. Stuff like that is what gets my creative juices flowing.
What medium have you always been intrigued by but would never use yourself?
Resin. Resin art is so stunning. People make the most amazing and beautiful sculptures using resin, and I don’t think I could ever bring myself to play with something so complicated. There are a lot of ways to cure it, and sometimes, it doesn’t cure properly…I already work with enough chaos as it is! I respect resin artists, but I don’t think I would ever touch it. I’ve admired it from a distance. There is an artist I follow who does these resin layer paintings. So they’ll paint a layer of resin, then cure it, and paint on top of the cured layer. They build up these amazing paintings using resin…I could never. Maybe one day!
What is one interaction you had with a fan of yours that has stuck with you over the years?
I still remember…It was my first and only Flame Con in New York. I had a fan come up to my booth. They didn’t say hello or that it was nice to meet me. They started to cry! They cried, and the first words out of their mouth were, “I’ve never seen myself in artwork before.” So, of course, I started to cry! So we were just crying across the table at each other. It was just one of the sweetest interactions, and it really sticks with me still to this day.
What is a recent creative project that you are proud of?
My latest collaboration with the artist Missupacey. We’ve been collaborating for two years now, and our last collaboration was for Midsummer Scream. It was two very cute clown girls, and I designed our T-shirt. It was one of the most fun projects we’ve done in a long time. We love doing collaborative work because it keeps working in the art industry fresh—being able to bounce ideas back and forth. So we do it where someone picks the color palette, and someone picks a theme. We’ll get references together, put them on a big board, and send each other sketches. It’s really nice to work with somebody else.
How has technology changed the way you approach your work?
Honestly, it changed everything. I mean, I used to draw for myself a lot. And while I still do that, I now predominantly draw for my Patrons. For a while, I was drawing for the internet. So I was drawing stuff people wanted to see in terms of plus-sized versions of characters—a plus-sized Poison Ivy or a plus-sized Sailor Moon. My Patrons have allowed me to start drawing for myself again. But technology, for a while, essentially dominated what direction I was taking with my art, so I’m grateful to take some of that power back.
If there is one thing that you want art enthusiasts to remember you by, what would it be?
Body positivity. I would love for them to remember that there is an artist making work that is making people feel good about themselves and about the way they look at themselves.
Top tips on setting up an Artist Alley booth?
Have a method of taking money, have a method of displaying your work, and have a way to take a break. I have a plastic picnic cover that costs like a dollar at any store. All I have to do is clip it to my display grates, and it covers up my entire display. I feel secure enough to take time for myself in a 10-hour workday to eat something, go to the restroom, or even take a moment to breathe and reorganize my inventory. So it’s so funny that this one-dollar piece of plastic is like the most life-saving item in my display of items.
Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?
@mayakern comes to mind. She is another body-positive artist who expanded into making body-positive clothing. She’s amazing, and just to see someone else out there promoting body positivity. Maya’s been doing it longer than I have, I believe. It feels good to know that I’m not alone. Her work is always stunning, and I love her body-positive DnD characters and the fact that she’s still plowing through the clothing industry. For example, she’s expanded from skirts to button-downs and even custom-wrap shirts. I love to see what she’s doing, and it inspires me to pursue different avenues with my own work.
Thank you so much for stopping by and sharing, Jiji! Be sure to check out their Tumblr blog over at @jijidraws.
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pampushky · 2 months ago
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i hate the air he breathes his foolish decrees
Alpha! Lando Norris/Omega! Lauda! Reader - chapter 2 - 5k
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woooo welcome to part 2 my loves! sorry for the slight wait. I've been doing hot bitch shit (my actual job). but now we're back. enjoy the fuck out of it. TW: no mention of abuser other than as him. mentions of abandonment and severe physical trauma in the form of a house fire. lore drop on the main character too!!
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Mid-March 2005. Los Angeles.
Niki gets a call from an unknown number that wakes him up from a deep slumber, and he hardly has any time to think as he’s pulling a sweater over his head and forgoing a hat entirely. It’s his third day in as your legal guardian, and you’re already transferred to a state-of-the-art hospital in Los Angeles, across the country from where you’d lived previously. A newer set of mountains. A city to the hamlet you’d once known, hidden away in the foggy mountains of North Carolina.  
As he blearily walks into the hospital lobby, there’s already a small team of doctors waiting for him, explaining rapidly what's happening to you as they walk him up to your room in the burn ward. You’re in the best hospital for burns on the continent— Niki had made sure of it. Had paid for the flight over here two days ago, with a medical staff on board to keep you stable during the five-hour flight. 
The doctors swarming around your unconscious form resemble vultures. The burn center director explains everything to him when they finally get to your room. The rapid medical treatment nearly made you present early. Freakishly early, by all standards. It’s understood to have been a panic response by your body— because you're on the brink of death in the burn ward, your hormones so out of whack that for whatever reason, your brain had gone, ‘Oh, yes, it’s time to do that now.’
Studies had shown that those in areas where the risk of death was high often presented much earlier, with other cases that also supported something known as “panic presentation”. You’re an extreme example of the latter. But it had never been seen to this degree. You need to be knocked out for several days, going comatose while a team of doctors works around the clock to save your life while it seems likely you will melt away like the first snowfall on a sun-warmed road as it seems new complications get piled onto your case file every day. The way the doctor talks about you makes Niki feel like you’re more of a specimen meant for study, and not a pup who’d just lost her Dam. 
Marlene has already decorated the sterile room to reflect more on a child’s room. And wherever there’s an empty space on a table, she’s placed down vases full of fresh flowers. Flowering dogwood. That’s what the state flower was of North Carolina, and however early in the season for blooming it was, she managed to find fresh ones every day. Now, Marlene was back at the hotel, settling a new wave of interest about your identity while Niki tried to figure out what he was going to do with you when he's lead into the room.
You’re already on several new medications to prevent you from presenting early, having them inserted in through an IV and eventually, to be taken as a pill when you could swallow. You'll be on these same medications until you’re seven or eight, when they can start to consider weaning you off of them to let you present then because it’ll be safer. Niki hates the idea of you presenting even then. You should be almost fully grown when you present. Not— not still a pup. With baby teeth still in your mouth. You should be wrestling. Learning to access your canine form, and causing mayhem like his sons had. 
So he does what he’s been doing for the past five days. Niki sits quietly by your side in your private room. Holding your tiny hand while a machine breathes for you, not even five years old, and fighting for your life. Completely unaware of the complications your existence has thrown straight into Niki’s lap, dredging up old, old wounds that his sons have yet to recover from.
Because the great complication is that you’re his biological grandchild. 
Through a son, a beta, that neither Lukas nor Mathias had gotten to know. Or Niki, for that matter. But here you are. The only link to that son. To the ultimate undoing of his marriage and mating, his infidelity thrown back in his face in the form of a sedated, traumatized pup that can’t understand him through his accent.
Left without a dam, your mother. Lost to the roaring flames of a housefire that you’d somehow survived. Part of Niki wants to know how his son had ended up in the area, and if there are any other new descendants he should know about. So he petitions the court to gain access to your files before he legally adopts you, and he stares down at them before finally lifting the cover of the manila folder and starts to read.
All the files seem to stare right on back at Niki as he continues to pour through them, officially five minutes and nine seconds into being your legal guardian. They’re meticulous, just as expected— it had become standard for anyone who’d had so much as a visit to a hospital to create a DNA profile, especially after they presented. His affair child’s profile stares back at him, with what he can only assume is an up-to-date photo. Male. Beta. Signed away parental rights before birth. Austrian nationality. That’s all you have to go on for your biological father’s identity. 
That’s all that linked Niki to you, and how the social worker had managed to contact him. All other positive matches from your father’s side are his former mistress as your biological grandmother and his two sons with Marlene as your uncles. There are no other pups listed for his affair child. No other grandchildren that he has to worry about. Your dam’s profile is more complete. A smiling picture of her holding you as an infant, left by her family.
Female. Omega. Deceased. American nationality, born in Banner Elk, North Carolina. 
And under that:
Dam’s pack signed away pack and next of kin rights to the pup. Relevant health history is accessible through the International UN DNA database. Pack requested no contact order until the pup has reached legal age, or unless the pup does not survive her time in hospital, so they may bury her in the family plot with her Dam.
This makes a chill run down Niki’s spine. Your pack had… signed you away? The only people who had been familiar to you— and they had signed away their rights as though you were more of a burden than anything, only asking for you back if you were dead. It makes him shudder, as he looks down at your tiny body again, for what must have been the thousandth time since he’s been introduced to you. Since he’d so quickly agreed to become your legal guardian, your legal sire. Covered in bandages and hooked up to dozens of wires. 
The social worker explained that signing you away was them not wanting to pay for the massive medical bill, along with the scandal your birth had caused in the small community. Your Dam was unmated, and even worse, unmarried, raising you on her own in a less-than-up-to-code cabin her late father had left her, further out in the mountains, a thirty-minute drive into town. 
The matriarch of her pack had been well-regarded in the area— it was an open secret that she was looking for any excuse to remove you from the picture. This just happened to be the perfect excuse. How was she going to be able to pay for your medical costs on her own when it was just her? All the advanced treatments you’d need— it would be too much in her old age.
When told about the Children’s Health Insurance Programs that could easily provide care for you, your grand-dam had just made a sour face and told the Social Worker she was still signing away her rights. Her surviving children were quick to follow her lead.
What a backward system. Niki had growled to himself, pacing in the room. Reading the reports from the insurance company he’d managed to legally bully his way into receiving from your biological family. 
The cabin had burnt down in nearly an hour. You’d been trapped under a metal bed frame when the roof collapsed in on itself. When they’d found you, it had been a recovery effort for bodies. And despite it all, you’d survived, your whimpering and crying alerting the firefighters that you were alive. Severely burnt, with the old mattress and polyester blankets having melted and dripped across your little body as the embers settled. Half of your body severely burnt from where the flames could still reach you. Crying out for your Dam even as you were airlifted to the nearest hospital with a functioning burn ward.
Going over your files has become a habit for first past three days. Ever since Marlene had gone silent when Niki told her that he was going to adopt you, before brusquely starting to order furniture and calling countless contractors that a new pup-friendly room be added to his house in Hof. He’s lucky to at least be considered a friend of his former mate, otherwise, he would be stumbling through his second round of parenting. He looks down at the newest addition to his pack. You. Four and a half. With burns covering an incredible amount of your body. Nearly 45% percent of your torso, completely mangling one of your legs, crawling up your neck and dancing across your jaw. Now lying in a medically-induced coma to conserve your energy. 
You wake up nearly two days later. Five days into Niki’s tenure as your legal sire. Unable to scream. Eyes fixed on Niki as your little chest heaves with the effort it takes to breathe. You pull at your IV and try to snap at a nurse who tries to stop you. But your eyes are still fixed on Niki, likely horrified by his burns. You were glancing at your own bandaged arms and body as if to gauge how you would one day look. 
There is a wild look in your eyes as you look at him. The way you tremble as the doctors try to explain everything. It hurts Niki’s heart, especially with the gasping noise you let out before they sedate you again when you’re still not responding well to anything. Niki wants to wrap you up in his arms and never let you go. You mumble something out as you drift away again, tears in the corners of your eyes. Foggy eyes on the extravagant bouquets of flowers on the tables beside your bed and across the room.
Where is my Dam? 
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Early February 2024. Woking.
Your left leg was acting up again. It always did when you were stressed. The fire had mangled it— and that was putting it lightly. Not bad enough to amputate, because that would be too easy, and they didn’t want to send your body into even more shock. So you had your crispy, chicken-fried, useless leg. You could put some weight on it now, after nearly twenty years of intense therapy and correcting surgeries. But it was still incredibly weak. All twisted, mottled skin and a full knee replacement.
That’s what had made it so easy for him. That’s what had made it easy for him to chase you down as you tried to leave every situation that saw him near you. Easily able to keep pace with your shambling, stress-induced walk as you choked on his scent. 
Your upper thigh twinges. The needle pierces your skin all over again. That was the only reason you’d been able to walk away without experiencing a true heat from whatever drug he’d hit you with. The bad, mangled leg of yours. Your downfall and savior. 
The halls are winding, but you can vaguely follow the way to your office from previous talks. You call Lewis the moment you get to the room. There’s already a brand-new mini fridge sitting on your desk, likely from the accommodations you’d listed in the countless documents you’d had to sign when you got hired. 
There’s a few people unboxing your items and they look a bit shocked to see you back from what was supposed to be a much longer meeting.
“Ms Lauda—”
“Leave, please,” you whisper while pacing across the room, trying to calm yourself down. You can feel your scent-blocking, adhesive strips tingling. Your scent glands, especially the damaged ones, threatening to blister from the stress of what just happened. You were going to be sacked for certain. Not only had you yelled at the driver you were meant to work with, you’d also thrown an empty can at him. “I’d like some space.”
The workers, your new assistants, you realize, hurry out, not even catching your mumbled thanks as you tuck yourself into a corner where you can’t be seen from the door. So much different than Williams. So much more support. Lewis doesn’t pick up immediately, but just as you’re about to call again, his contact photo appears on your screen. 
“What’s wrong? Are you okay—” Is the first thing you hear, like the protective older brother he’s always situated himself as in your life. “What room are you in? I still haves ways to get into the classified parts of the MTC—” 
“I’m going to fucking kill Lando Norris,” You growl into the phone, and Lewis lets out a relieved noise, before breaking off into a fit of laughter, his voice more distant as if he’s trying to muffle himself. “Don’t laugh! That fucking brat, I should box his goddamn ears, showing up nearly an hour late to what was supposed to be our initial meeting—” 
“Ah, yeah, sounds like Lando!” 
“Fuck off, Lewis,” You whine, and he has the audacity to laugh even harder, because your accent slips, as it always seems to do when you’re with your immediate pack. You can hear him shuffle a bit. “I’m gonna kill him.”
“No, you won’t.”
“No, I won’t,” You concede to him with a soft sigh. You hear the chortling barks of Roscoe in the background of Lewis’s call. “I’m gonna do my job. But I’m gonna hate it. Unless I get switched to Oscar.”
“Don’t sound too hopeful.” Lewis chides on the other side of the phone, and you hear the doorknob jiggle, followed by a soft knock. “Sounds like you have some work to do.” 
He hangs up before you can say something in response to him, leaving the gentle knocking on the door to slowly drive you insane. Likely Andrea or Zak, telling you that you were going to be let go for committing a minor assault against their star driver. 
And you're right, it is Zak. But he looks more concerned than angry with you, immediately putting his hands up in a placating manner when you open the door as if you’re the one with all the power and he’s not the CEO of McLaren Racing, your ultimate boss. Your boss’s boss. The one who bulldozed his way into getting you on the team because he’d seen your work to get at least a modicum of respect back to Williams, and, in his own words, got a good vibe from you.
(And maybe Niki had been in his ear a little bit about it, but when Niki Lauda spoke, people had a habit of listening rather closely to whatever he said.)
“Mr. Brown,” You start formally, leaning down in a way that is traditionally seen as submitting and a very, very formal way to apologize before he starts to squawk in surprise at it all. 
“Don’t– What are you submitting for— are you alright?!”
The last thing you expect is Zak fretting over you like you’re a pup. He’s gently squishing your cheeks with his hands, checking you over, and you can see his nose twitching, as if he’s checking your scent for any signs of distress. Only to look confused by how… clean, you smell.
“Are you— are you still hurt from everything?”
“No, I just,” You take a step backward, and hold up your hands just like he had just been doing for you a few seconds ago. “It’s easier to hide my designation when I smell like this.”
He just looks confused at your explanation but doesn’t seem to question it.
“And you… want to continue hiding it?”
“Preferably.”
Even as you say it, you can see a bit of pity in his eyes. You know his mate is an omega. He has a pup who’s an omega. Both of which he supports wholeheartedly. You’d seen all the articles. Part of you is jealous. Another part just wants everyone to stop caring about what your designation may be. Why should anyone care what you are? 
You’re proud of yourself, regardless of your designation. You’re not some prize to be won! You can stand on your own two feet, you can take care of yourself. You had more than shown that—
Zak is hugging you. Rumbling softly like any parent would do for a distressed pup.
“You don’t have to justify it. I just need to know so I can make sure that no one else is told, aside from our medical people.” He whispers, and you sag against him. Relief fills your mind. “What— what do people think you’ve presented as?”
“Alpha. Like Vati. They think I’m an Alpha.” 
“We can work with that,” Zak pulls away, looking at you. There’s only worry in his eyes. “Can I ask one more thing?”
“Yeah,” You sniffle, not realizing you’d starting to tear up as you look at him. “What is it?”
“Why…. did you throw an empty can of Red Bull at Lando? You’re not in trouble, I just want to know why.”
You flush, and Zak just starts to laugh. 
McLaren is much, much different than Williams.
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Lando has been sitting in a chair while Oscar screams at him. Andrea has disappeared. It’s been ten minutes and all he wants to do is curl up and die and apologize for commenting on your voice and being late and not charging his phone and really, every other thing that he’d done wrong, ever.
Yes. He is technically the older one. No, he shouldn’t be acting like such a pup over this.  
Yes. He should know better than to comment on things that people can’t change or help about themselves.
Yes, Oscar, Lando was aware that you had survived a very traumatic house fire that nearly killed you. No, it’s not okay that he called you a robotic bitch. No, he didn’t read the email about the apparent triggers that you had from this event. Frankly, he wasn’t even aware that they had emailed those to him. That seemed like a bit much.
“I mean seriously, Lando! This is ridiculous! Fucking calling her that!” 
It feels like he’s being lectured by his Dam again, her words blending English into Flemish until he can’t tell what she’s saying, just that she’s pissed at him. Instead, it’s just Oscar’s accent getting thicker and thicker until Lando’s certain he’s never heard anyone sound so furious with him, and that’s really saying something. 
“I get it,” Lando whines, letting his head slip so that he can press his forehead against the table. And he does feel bad! Really! “I didn’t know she’d respond like that!”
“Wonderful excuse to be a fuckhead, champ,” Oscar drawls, eyes narrowed. His arms are folded. He looks unimpressed. He smells more, now than ever, of rotting oranges. Lando can imagine the maggots. “I’m shocked you didn’t comment on her designation as well.”
“She’s an alpha! And she smells so medicine-y,” Lando wrinkles his nose, lifting up his head enough to glare at the omega in front of him. Oscar’s face is a blank mask of annoyance, with a flicker of some other mystery emotion. But he can at least tell what he’s thinking because he can smell his displeasure from across the room. It’s all rotten oranges, burning rubber, and singed hair. “C’mon! I didn’t know it’d set her off that much, man!”
“Commenting on traumatic events tends to do that to people.”
“How was I supposed to know it was traumatic?!”
“Wow, you really didn’t read any of the emails,” Oscar lets out a low huff, sitting across from Lando in one of the plush office chairs. “We’ve been in talks with her for weeks!”
“You were in talks with her, maybe,” Lando says snidely, narrowing his gaze at the omega across from him, “I didn’t think I needed a new race engineer, yet here we are. But you seemed awfully interested when you heard she was looking for a new team.”
Oscar scoffs. His cheeks turn slightly pink. “No, I wasn’t. She’s a good friend. I thought she’d be a good fit for the team.”
“Oh, so this has nothing to do with the fact that you have such an obvious crush on her? I bet Logan even helped set you up,” Lando knows he’s been a dick again. But he’s frustrated. He’ll get lectured by his therapist for this later, and he’s okay with that. He just needs to make Oscar squirm a little for his high-and-mighty attitude. “You want her pups, I bet. Already have the first three named.”
“Fuck off,” Oscar snarls, and Lando decides to keep digging a bit more. “It’s not like that! Besides— I’m courting someone!”
An awkward silence settles between the two. Oscar’s flushed pink. And Lando starts to grin. All evil like, in Oscar’s opinion. Gleefully, in his own. 
"Oh, but it is!” Lando chimes, his voice all sing-songy. He’s in full older brother mode. He knows exactly what to do to push Oscar’s buttons now that his teammate has shown his weakness. He’s done this with his sisters. And Oscar’s probably used to being the one doing the tormenting, as his family’s oldest pup. “You like her!” And then, with a very dramatic gasp, “Oh, you’re probably courting her! No wonder you wanted her here!”
Without so much as a warning, the Australian driver leaps at him with a snarl the moment the words are out of his mouth. They’re both tussling on the ground, before it turns into the two of them in their canine forms, snapping and snarling at each other. This is when Andrea decides to make a reappearance, looking a bit startled to see a mousy-brown wolf and a dark-brown wolf rolling around on the floor of the conference room. Oscar is large for an omega in his canine form, but still smaller than Lando. Lando is wirey, not as bulky as many would expect an Alpha to be. It’s rather evenly matched, considering how often the two of them are training. 
One moment, Lando has Oscar pinned. Another, Oscar has him pinned. Snarling and biting and kicking until the door opens again, and now it’s Andrea, Zak, and yourself watching the two of them wrestle until you fearlessly walk into the fray and grab Oscar by one of his hind legs.
Oscar turns human again immediately, hitting the ground with a loud ‘oof’ while Lando scurries away, watching as you start to lecture the other driver as he stands up. Your tone is hushed, but it’s clear that this seems to be a common occurrence between the two of you. You’re leaning over him, and the rumblings of annoyance and displeasure are clear as day.
Lando can’t help but smirk as the other man makes fleeting eye contact with him as you sit on his side of the table, taking your place as his engineer, despite your obvious contempt for him. 
“Now, let's get to business…” Andrea sighs. You keep your eyes ahead. Hands folded neatly in front of you. Letting his words blur until you feel Oscar gently tugging on your arm. He looks concerned, and you smile tiredly at him. Only just remembering the promise of cuddling in his nest with him when this was all done. 
You don’t even care if you look or act nothing like the Alpha that Lando thinks you are. You just slump against Oscar with a grumpy half-whine as he hoists you over his shoulder. The other driver lets out a loud snort at that, and your friend only glares at him, about to say something else before you bring one of your hands to tap his cheek lightly.
“Just get to th’nest,” You mumble, leaning against him. Your leg aches. You don’t want to walk. “Wanna get th’blockers off.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Oscar sighs, glaring at Lando over his shoulder before walking past with you in his arms. You don’t care about how it looks. You’ll deal with it later. And before you know it, you’re curled in the world’s comfiest nest, all in shades of orange and black. With the comforting scent of sweet tangerines and charcoal. Oscar hands you a nice little bottle of micellar water to help get the sticky adhesive of the blockers off, much more gentle with your skin than you ever are with yourself. He’s even soaked cotton rounds to make it a bit easier to apply, gently rubbing them across your scarred glands to clear any remnants of the adhesive off of your skin.
The smells of mountain rain and fresh baked peach cobbler mix with Oscar’s scent as you stretch, rubbing your cheeks tiredly.
You let yourself relax then. Sinking deep into the soft pillows as Oscar comes to spoon you from behind. A commonplace action, and had been since he started to get more and more bold with you in his attempts to court you. 
You can hear Oscar start to Facetime someone, probably Logan. But you honestly don’t care all that much— he’s there, and you’ll give your friend a full debrief, of course, after you’ve fully rested. 
“Your leg acting up?”
Oscar nudges you, and you grumble, trying to press your face further into the plushness of the nest, voice muffled by pillows. “Who cares if it is?”
“I do.”
“So do I!” Logan chimes in from the phone, and you roll over enough to glare at him. “Did you take all your meds, mouse?”
“Unfortunately, yes. So I’m afraid you’ll just have to put me down at this point—”
You don’t even have time to respond as Oscar cuffs your ear. You let out a dramatic whine, actually letting yourself act on your instinctual noises. Nothing hurts, of course. Oscar’s always been gentle, making sure nothing actually hurts when he wrestles with you or cuffs your ears. 
“Did you have to get my bad ear?” You whine, looking accusingly at the Aussie who just grins down at you, cuffing the same ear once again. “I’m gonna tell Lewis.”
“He doesn’t scare me, and besides, he’d probably agree with me! All, ‘C’mon, Mousey, that’s not how your therapist said to cope with your trauma—”
“That’s a bit scary, how accurate that was,” You prop yourself up to glare at your dear friend, only to smile broadly at him. You can’t help it, really. He manages to make you smile, even when you feel like shit. And even when he cuffs your bad ear by mistake, after swearing he won’t do it again.
In truth, the ear looks almost melted. It’s usually carefully hidden by your personal stylist, with hair masterfully combed over it. The skin around it— luckily missing your scalp— was mottled and pink. What was left of your ear was little more than a small ridge of skin and cartilage at this point, and was much the same in your canine appearance, just more dramatic without all the fur. The upper half of your ear was utterly gone, along with most of the lobe. It was the ear you were deaf in. 
“Can it even hurt if you’re deaf?”
“Yeah! Doesn’t mean it’s gone numb to the feeling,” you pout, looking at him as he sets his chin on your shoulder. Logan giggles from FaceTime. He’s set up somewhere, Williams blue all around him that makes you avert your gaze but continue talking to him nonetheless. “Ugh. Logan, I almost killed Lando.”
“She threw a can of Red Bull at him,” Oscar clarifies, to his rather shocked-looking boyfriend and courting partner. To his credit, it takes a few seconds before Logan starts to cackle.  
“It was empty!” You protest back, but there’s a wide smile on your face as you hazard a glance at your former partner. “He was being a little bitch!”
“Should I be offended I didn’t get the same treatment my first day?” Logan’s voice crackles and his face is frozen on the screen with a mix of a confused look and smirk, before serenading both of you with a jumbled, robotic mess before the call abruptly ends. 
“Stupid wifi,” Oscar mumbles, pulling the phone away to text his boyfriend to see what happened. You just settle back into your side of the nest, closing your eyes and letting yourself drift off while Oscar’s comforting scent wafts over in you waves. You could just about fall asleep when there’s a gentle knock at the door, followed by Andrea poking his head in. 
He blinks at the two of you. You blink back at him, already knowing you won't be able to take a much-needed like you had originally planned.
“Ah! Ms Lauda— can I speak with you for a second?”
“Can I do it from here?” you try to press yourself deeper into Oscar’s nest. You’d need to find a place to make one here— a nice, private room. Somewhere you can easily reapply your scent blockers and can fully surrender to your instincts until you were comfortable with more people knowing about your designation. “Took off my blockers.”
“Of course. I just wanted to check in, make sure everything was alright after… how the meeting went.”
There’s a hearty pause. As if he can tell you’re thinking over your words carefully.
“It certainly… went.”
“Ah. And… no other comments?”
“I meant what I said. You baby Lando.” You shift slightly. Tiredly. Giving the team principal the trademark Lauda stare from where you’re comfortably curled into the nest. So soft, yet so harsh at the same time.
“Then it’s a good thing you’re here to fix that,” Andrea smiles politely at you, and ducks out of the room without another word. You just settle deeper into Oscar’s nest, wondering what in the hell you’d gotten yourself into. The only thing on your mind when you finally manage to fall asleep is how much you miss your mother's fresh peach cobbler.
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tags: @the-holy-trinity-l @laura-naruto-fan1998 @amalialeclerc @st0rmzi3 @poppyflower-22 @hiireadstuff @seonghwaexile @mrsmelinda
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wholoveseggs · 11 months ago
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Hii I was wondering if u can make an elijah fluff. Like context hes been married for like 1000+ years and he still gets nervous around reader
Dinner can wait.
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{Masterlist}
Elijah is nervous about you returning home after a trip, so he cooks dinner to calm himself.
~♡♡ Thanks for the request anon ~ I love domestic Elijah, I could write a million stories on this subject ♡♡~
2k words - Warnings: None, just fluff!
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Elijah moved with assured grace around the kitchen, his shirt sleeves rolled up, and his dark hair falling softly across his face as he carefully arranged his ingredients. There was something soothing about cooking, and tonight it was something that he really needed. He glanced up at the clock and sighed, wondering if he had enough time to prepare his special sauce, or if he should just use his normal béarnaise. He decided that he wanted to use the special sauce tonight and reached for a saucepan. As he started to slowly melt his butter, he heard the front door open. A smile lifted the corner of his mouth as he heard the familiar footsteps of his sister enter the kitchen.
"What's for dinner tonight, brother?" Rebekah asked, opening the fridge and reaching in to grab one of his bottles of wine.
"Coq au vin, but unfortunately, Rebekah, it's for two, not three," he said, looking pointedly at the wine bottle she had taken out.
"That's okay," she replied, "I'll just help myself to your wine."
She winked at him and poured herself a generous glass, then pulled out a chair and sat down at the counter to watch him.
"So she's coming back today?" she asked.
"Yes," he said, adding the chopped onions and mushrooms to the pan. "Her plane arrives at seven thirty."
"Do you need me to pick her up?"
"No, thank you," he said. "I've already arranged a driver."
"And have you thought about how you're going to greet her?"
Elijah frowned at her, not liking the look of amusement on her face. "What do you mean? I'll greet her in the same way I've greeted her for the last ten centuries."
Rebekah laughed and sipped her wine. "I think that's the problem, brother," she teased.
"What are you talking about?" he demanded, his knife hitting the chopping board with a little more force than necessary.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about," she said. "Every time your wife returns home after being away for any period of time, you go out of your way to impress her. You cook, you clean, you buy her flowers and gifts, and when you greet her, you are always so polite and gentlemanly, almost as if it's a first date.”
"So?"
"So, Elijah," she said, smiling affectionately at him, "don't you think it's time you stopped trying to impress her and just showed her how much you love her."
Elijah sighed and rubbed his hand across his brow. "I don't think I know any other way," he admitted.
"Then learn another way," she replied, draining her glass and standing up. "I've got a date so I won't be home for dinner, but I expect to see you both tomorrow."
"Fine," he said. "Thank you for your... help."
She laughed and kissed him on the cheek, then grabbed her bag and left.
He watched her go and then looked down at the half-chopped ingredients in front of him. He had always enjoyed cooking for his wife, but this time was different. This time his hands were shaking as he lifted the knife, and his stomach was fluttering. 
Why was he nervous? It was his beautiful wife. His sweet and gentle y/n. The love of his long life. 
They had been married for one thousand years, but his feelings towards her had never changed. She was still the girl from the village who had captured his heart when they were children. The girl he had courted and then married, and who had stood by his side when he had become a vampire and all the challenges that it had brought. He sighed and started preparing the rest of his ingredients. Maybe Rebekah was right, and it was time for him to try a new approach.
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When you stepped out of the airport and took your first breath of fresh air, you felt as if a heavy weight had been lifted from your shoulders. You were so close to seeing your husband, and it made your heart flutter. You looked around and smiled when you saw a tall man with dark hair and eyes waiting patiently for you, holding a sign with your name on it.
"Hello," you said, "I'm y/n."
"Good evening, ma'am," he said politely. "My name is Joshua, and I will be driving you home tonight."
"Thank you, Joshua," you replied. "Can we get going? I've been away for too long."
"Certainly," he said, picking up your suitcase and walking to the car. He loaded it into the trunk and then held open the door for you.
"Where is Elijah?" you asked, getting in and settling yourself into the leather seat.
"He had a prior engagement tonight," Joshua replied, closing the door and walking around the car to get in the driver's side. "He asked me to let you know he was sorry he couldn't meet you and that he will see you when you get home."
"Oh," you said, trying to mask your disappointment. You knew your husband well, and you were certain he was lying about a prior engagement. It had happened before, and you suspected that he had arranged a welcome home surprise for you. You would have preferred he just picked you up, no surprises necessary; you simply needed his presence.
When you arrived home, there was a light burning in the kitchen, and as the car pulled up, and you opened the door, you could smell the wonderful aromas of your favorite food. Your husband was definitely here. You got out and walked towards the house, smiling at Joshua and thanking him as he carried your suitcase inside and left it at the foot of the stairs.
"Thank you, Joshua," you said, as he turned to leave.
"You're welcome, ma'am," he said, "and have a good night."
"I intend to," you replied, your lips curving into a smile as you turned and walked towards the kitchen.
As you approached the doorway, you could see Elijah's silhouette in the light, his broad shoulders and strong arms moving quickly as he finished off the meal. You paused and leaned against the doorframe, watching him.
You remembered the day you met him, and how shy and reserved he was, how nervous and uncomfortable he was around you. He was always so sweet and shy, unaware of just how beautiful he was. You remembered how his eyes would light up whenever he saw you around the village, sneaking glances at you whenever he thought you weren't looking. You remembered how happy he was when you had agreed to go for a walk with him. How he would stumble over his words and blush as he told you about his dreams and ambitions. And you remembered the day he kissed you. It was the first time either of you had ever kissed anyone, and he was so unsure of himself, his hands shaking as he held your face and his lips barely touching yours. But his lips were so soft, and the feeling of his warm skin on yours was exhilarating. You remember the day you married him and how proud he was to call you his wife. The way his eyes filled with tears as he kissed you, the way he smiled and held you so tight. His vows still clear in your mind even after a thousand years.
"My dearest wife, I will always be true to you, through everything and no matter what happens. My love will be yours until the end of time. I will always cherish and protect you. You are my everything."
Little did either of you know how long you would keep those vows; immortality had not yet come upon either of you. It was both a blessing and a curse, but with Elijah by your side, you knew you could handle whatever came your way.
You watched him now, still the same beautiful, sweet, and caring man you had fallen in love with. He was the man who had stolen your heart, and he was the one who would forever hold it. He was moving around the kitchen frantically, nervously glancing at the clock every few minutes. He was clearly making sure everything was perfect for your return. You wondered how he didn't hear you come in, but you supposed he was so lost in thought that he couldn't sense anything else. You smiled to yourself, loving him even more.
You stepped forward and wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him close. He froze, and you could feel his heart pounding against your cheek.
"Hello, my darling," you said softly, kissing his shoulder blade.
He let out a long sigh and relaxed in your arms, his hands covering yours. "Hello," he whispered.
"Mmm, something smells delicious," you murmured.
"It's coq au vin," he replied.
"My favorite," you said. "I'm impressed, you must have put a lot of effort into tonight's dinner."
"I wanted it to be perfect," he said quietly.
"Why?"
He turned around and placed his hands on your cheeks, stroking his thumbs over your skin, his brown eyes were warm and full of emotion. To you he still looked like a the nervous teenager who gathered all his courage just to talk to you.
"Because," he said softly, leaning down to brush his lips against yours, "I missed you so much."
"I missed you too," you replied, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down to kiss you again.
His lips were soft and warm, his kiss slow and tender. You felt his hands slide into your hair and tug gently, his tongue slipping between your parted lips.
"Elijah," you murmured.
"Hmmm," he mumbled, kissing his way down your throat.
"Something is burning," you said.
He immediately pulled back, his eyes wide as he looked over his shoulder. The sauce was smoking, and he quickly reached for the pan and removed it from the heat, turning the stove off.
You watched as he ran his fingers through his hair, his jaw clenching in frustration.
"I'm sorry, it's ruined," he said. "I just..."
"It's okay," you said, taking his hand and leading him out of the kitchen.
"But what about dinner?" he asked.
"Dinner can wait," you said, "or we can order take-out. All I really want right now is my husband."
You smiled and he grinned back at you, his earlier nervousness forgotten. He pulled you into his arms and kissed you, lifting you up and carrying you to the bedroom.
"I love you, my beautiful wife," he whispered, laying you on the bed and climbing on top of you.
"I love you, sweet husband," you replied.
He kissed you again and then proceeded to show you just how much he had missed you.
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eymie · 10 months ago
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Billy x fem reader where she likes horses or tends to them and thats how billy and her meet?
i’ve been so so busy i’m sorry this took a while. also i was feeling like writing something fluffy but i might make a part two with smut. ((probably) definitely*)
It’s also been a hot minute since I’ve rode a horse so bear with me.
part two
SWEET TOOTH !
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You kept to yourself most the times. Only coming into town when you needed to, soft smiles to people who nodded at you.
Your family owned a farm not too far past town, growing up spending most your time in the barn you became acquainted with the horses. You fed them and tended to them. They were like your closest friends. You were homeschooled by your aunt who used to be a teacher herself so you never met many other kids your age.
When your parents got older you started making more town trips for them, making business deals, the doctors, the bank. Most people in town were friendly with you, many bought your goat milk or your eggs.
You tied up your favourite horse to the fence post. Pulling a sugar cube from your pocket, which embarrassingly enough you always kept on you. They were expensive and your mother would have your head if she found out but you couldn’t help it, horses loved them
You fed your favourite horse, Aspen, a small sugar cube. Scratching in between her ears, kissing her cheek.
“Atta girl, don’t go talking to strangers.” She nuzzled against your shoulder as you walked off into a shop. Your father had asked you to grab a new hammer while you were out so he could fix up a few loose floorboards. You looked back out the window to make sure Aspen was still tied up.
“Oh, hello darlin’” You turned to see one of the ladies who was a loyal customer. She was a sweet older lady, always stopping by for some eggs. “Rarely see you in town.”
“Yeah, I know.” You smiled, admiring the way her clothes were neat and clean. Her husband made good money and her kids were grown. “Don’t got any eggs on me, sorry ma’am.”
“Oh don’t worry ‘bout that, still got plenty. I know where to find you if I run out.” You nodded, going back to your shopping. Usually you had a stand in town to sell your eggs, or some shops sold for you but you had your specialty customers.
You grabbed one of the cheaper hammers off the shelf, walking over to the register area. You placed it on the table, pulling out your cash. As you hand the worker your money you look over to see a man and your horse.
“You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me.” You quietly thank the worker, grabbing your change and hammer and running out the store. The man turned to look at you, backing off a bit. “What’re you doin’?”
“Oh, nothing miss.” He stepped away from your horse a bit, his eyes darting down to the hammer in your hand. “Not going to hit me with that are you?”
You look down at the hammer in your hand and quickly put it away in your bag.
“‘Course not, m’not an animal.” You stepped closer, he didn’t back away this time. You noticed a pistol in his holster. “You can’t be talking much anyway with that gun in your pocket.”
“I suppose not.” He muttered, lifting his hat off his head. “Got a nice horse here.”
“I know that,” You look down to notice an apple in the man’s hand. You step closer again, rubbing your hand along Aspens side. “Where’s yours?”
“Oh, Lady’s just over there.” He nods to a horse tied up across the road at a boarding house. You thought she suited him quite nice.
“So you just come over introducing yourself to every horse in town.” You ask, admiring his messy brown hair. He had a bit of dirt on his nose but you weren’t going to point it out.
“Well not every horse comes along with a girl as pretty as you.” You blushed, looking down at the dusty ground. Sure a few men flirted with you in the past, but none as handsome as this man in front of you.
“That for her?” You point out the apple in his hand. He grabs your hand, placing the fresh apple into it.
“She looked a bit hungry.” He said, watching as you held the apple flat on your hand for her. He admired as you rubbed behind her ear as she ate from the palm of your hand. “Looks like she’s got a sweet tooth.”
“She sure does.” You smile, feeding her the last of the apple. You rubbed her cheek as she leaned down to get some of the apple chunks that had fell.
“She got a name?” The man asked, tilting his head. He really was awfully pretty, nice too. His arm rested against Aspen, fingers tracing her.
“Not telling unless you’d like to tell me yours.” You never flirted with a man before, you didn’t mean to be now but it came off that way. He laughed a bit look down and then back up at you.
“Billy,” He told you. You liked the way his name sounded, the way if rolled right off the tongue. His name suited him.
“I like that name.” You admitted, feeling almost too honest and blunt once you said it. Your cheeks flushed a bit in embarrassment.
“Mmm, there’s better out there.” He hummed, stepping a bit closer to you. You would’ve backed up if it was any other man you were talking to. If you knew who he was you should’ve been. “Now you gonna tell me or what?”
He was playful with his words, not intimidating or threatening.
“Aspen, but I got a few more horses back at home.” You thought about what it would be like to invite Billy to your farm, show him around the barn.
“Yeah?” He looked up at you, almost like he was asking a question. You looked like the sweetest girl he’d seen in a while, innocent and honest.
“Maybe I could show you sometime, how long you stayin’?” You really did wanna talk to him, knowing you probably wouldn’t be back in town for a little while. You didn’t want to miss the opportunity.
“I’d like that.” He nodded, putting his hat back on his head. The dark brim shadowing his face. “What’s your name?”
“Well that’s a secret.” You giggled, untying Aspen from the post. Billy didn’t have to help you mount her like he would’ve tried with other girls.
“How am I gonna find you without a name?” He asked, looking up at you. You shrugged, and he furrowed his dark eyebrows.
“I better be headin’ home, bye Billy.” You clicked your heels, Aspen backing up a bit. You turned back to look at Billy who was still waiting your name. “I’ll keep my word, promise.”
“I’d hope so.” He tilted his head, nodding you a goodbye. He watched as you and Aspen rode down the dusty road.
“What you doin’ talking to the farm girl.” He turned at the voice, the butcher was leaving the shop purchasing new knives. He was a burly man, usually buying your chickens and pigs if you.
“Farm girl?”
“Yeah, she lives with her family on that farm on the edge of town.” Billy nodded, knowing just how he could see you again.
masterlist
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sophrosynesworld · 5 months ago
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Black and Blues (Pt. 2)
Part One:
The elevator ride feels suffocating in its silence. Izuku stares ahead, his normally bright demeanor dulled by the weight of everything happening. It’s just like high school all over again—losing him the first time nearly broke me. How am I supposed to survive this again?
The chime of the elevator interrupts our last moments of quiet, and the doors slide open, unleashing the chaos of DynaCorp. Assistants scramble like ants, buzzing around us with frantic energy.
“Can someone please find Mrs. Bakugo an appropriate outfit?” One assistant barks orders while others scatter. My fingers fidget with the hem of my shorts as camera crews set up equipment, flashes already going off in every direction.
“Mrs. Dynamite, you need to issue Plan C42. Sign here.” A clipboard and pen are thrust into my hands without warning.
Izuku snatches it out of my grip before I can even register what’s happening, tossing it aside. “She’s not signing that. He’s been gone less than 48 hours. Kacchan’s taken spontaneous trips to Spain that have lasted longer than this.”
“What’s C42?” I ask, tugging on his jacket to refocus him. Izuku’s gaze softens momentarily as he gently takes my wrist, pulling me away from the swarm of demands closing in on us.
Before Izuku can answer, an assistant with a phone rushes over. “Mrs. Bakugo, the shareholders’ meeting is about to start. They need you on the call now.”
“Wait, I—”
“Mrs. Bakugo, the PR team needs a statement about Mr. Bakugo’s absence,” another voice cuts in.
“One thing at a time!” I snap, feeling my head start to spin.
Izuku squeezes my hand reassuringly, leaning in so his green eyes are level with mine. “C42 hands over control to the board of directors,” he explains, voice low and steady, trying to anchor me. “Katsuki’s smart. He knows what he’s doing—he’s a shark when it comes to business.”
“Then why are they all acting like he’s already dead?” I mutter, my voice cracking under the pressure.
“Katsuki owns 65% of DynaCorp,” Izuku explains, keeping his focus on me. “As the majority shareholder, he can’t be outvoted. They can’t act without your approval.”
“Mrs. Bakugo, please, the meeting,” the assistant with the phone urges again, sounding panicked.
“I’ll be right there,” I say, still looking at Izuku. “What do I do?”
Izuku steps closer, his large hand resting on my bicep.
“Do you know why Katsuki’s the boss?” he asks me quietly. “It’s because he’s a bully. He doesn’t take orders from anyone. His employees don't tell him what to do—they wait for him to make the call. And today, you’re in charge. You decide when things happen. Everyone waits on you.”
I swallow hard but nod, feeling a small spark of confidence stir inside me.
Just then, another assistant rushes up with a tablet in hand. “Mrs. Bakugo, the legal team needs your approval on these documents.”
Before I can even react, Izuku grabs the tablet out of the assistant’s hands, shooting them a sharp glare. “We’ll review everything later,” he snaps. “You've done things way scarier than this. Bakugo is going to love hearing about this.”
The rest of the day is a whirlwind. Meeting after meeting, phone call after phone call, every second brings new demands, new emergencies. My head is pounding, a constant hum of tension swirling behind my eyes. By the time we finally leave the office, the city has long since gone dark, and exhaustion weighs heavily on my shoulders.
I never realized how much Katsuki dealt with on a daily basis. The pressure, the decisions, the chaos—it’s no wonder he always seemed stressed. I should buy more plants.
Izuku and I sit in my apartment, surrounded by takeout containers from our favorite restaurant. The scent of fresh rice and fried chicken bites fills the room as we go over stacks of documents spread across the coffee table.
Izuku picks up a dumpling with his chopsticks, his eyes soft with concern as he glances my way. "Do you want to talk about it?"
I let out a heavy sigh, leaning back against the couch, my head tilted toward the ceiling. "I don’t know… I’m not even hungry." My gaze drifts over to the counter, where my cold pancakes still sit, syrup congealed and untouched.
Izuku lowers his chopsticks, setting them aside. “What would Katsuki say?”
A bitter smile tugs at my lips. “That I’m going to get a headache if I don’t eat some protein.” I mumble, rolling my eyes even as I take a small bite from my plate, forcing the food down despite the knot in my stomach.
“Thank you, Izuku,” I say quietly, the weight of the day pulling down on my shoulders. “You didn’t have to stay.”
He gives me a soft smile, his voice equally gentle. “We stick together. Your husband has every pro hero in Japan looking for him. He’d want me here with you.”
I nod, comforted by his presence as we work in silence. The world outside feels distant, almost surreal, until our phones begin to buzz, lighting up with a flurry of notifications. Message after message floods in, urging us to turn on the TV.
Izuku grabs the remote with a frown, switching to the local news channel.
And then everything stops.
“Oh my god.” The words fall from my mouth, barely audible. My hands fly up to cover my face as I stare at the screen, frozen in horror. My legs feel weak, but before I can collapse, Izuku is up, his arms pulling me into a tight cocoon, shielding me from the unbearable images flashing on the screen.
“Recently released footage shows ProHero Dynamite hours after he was reported as MIA. The following footage contains graphic images that may not be suitable for viewers.”
My body thrashes against Izuku's hold as I desperately try to turn around and see the screen. But he holds me firm, locking me in place.
"Katsuki!" I scream, heart racing in my chest. But then I hear his voice, faint but unmistakable through the television speakers.
“Bluejays are born to fly. Are they not?”
I stomp on Izuku’s foot, using his moment of surprise to break free from his grip. I whip around, my eyes locking onto the screen just in time to see the horrifying scene. An assailant with an electricity quirk sends a painful jolt into Katsuki’s body, his face twisted in agony. His lips part again.
“Bluejay...”
My heart shatters at the sight of him—broken, battered... confused. I move toward the TV without thinking, my trembling hand reaching for him.
“Stop! Please!” I cry, my fingers grazing the glass, feeling the cold surface that separates us. Izuku yanks me away, wrapping his arms around me and rushing us toward the door.
“What are you doing?!” I shout in confusion, my voice choked with emotion as our apartment door slams behind us.
“We have to go—now,” Izuku mutters under his breath, his usual calm composure unraveling as he pulls me down the hallway. This isn’t like him. We usually take the elevator, but this time, he pushes open the stairwell door, his eyes scanning for danger.
"Stay low, come on," he orders, and we descend the stairs, our hurried footsteps echoing in the narrow space. The sense of urgency fuels my panic, my heart thumping wildly in my chest.
When we reach the parking garage, he grabs my hand and pulls me toward a car, practically shoving me inside. He slides into the driver’s seat, his movements fast and calculated, the car roaring to life as he locks the doors and tears out of the garage.
“What the hell is going on?” I demand, my voice rising with fear and confusion.
Izuku’s knuckles tighten on the wheel, his jaw set. “You’re in danger. We need to move you somewhere safe.”
“What? Izuku, what are you talking about?” I ask.
He spares me a glance. “I don’t know everything yet. But I’m not going to let anything happen to you. We’re going to figure this out—and we’re going to get Kacchan back. I promise.”
The city blurs past us, the streets illuminated by the dim glow of streetlights as we speed into the night, leaving everything familiar behind. All I can think about is Katsuki’s broken face on that screen, and the overwhelming fear that we might not make it in time.
Part Three:
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danikamariewrites · 8 months ago
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I LOVE your Feysand & Reader fics. Especially the housewife series. Could I please request a fic that takes place shortly after Gone Girl where they've been overprotective for a few months and it's really starting to grate on her nerves. She needs a break from them in Velaris. One of her solo shipping trips. Something where she purchases presents for both of them. Maybe she stops at a cafe for crepes and hot chocolate. And she knows that she's being tailed but takes it as the big step it is.
Over My Shoulder
Feysand x reader
a/n: I'm so sorry requests are taking so long, I think I've hit a bit of a writing slump. I love this idea so much and they would def be very overprotective of reader. Also, I've seen all your kind comments and want to say thank you❤️.
warnings: none
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For the first few weeks after the incident you didn't leave the house. It was your choice at first. Feeling more comfortable under Feyre and Rhys's watchful eyes. You wouldn't even walk Nyx to school unless your mates or other members of the Inner Circle were with you.
Hell, you wouldn't even go to the farmers market. You sent Cassian and Azriel once which was a huge mistake. As you had unpacked the bags with them the warriors were so proud. That was until you had to educate them on the differnce between cabbage and lettuce.
Azriel was giving his brother a look that said I told you so. Cassian had pursed his lips dropping the cabbage on the counter. He the proceeded to hold out a yam, asking if it wasn't a special potato.
When the weather started to turn you started to go stir crazy. Just sitting in the garden and going on short walks wasn't cutting it anymore.
"I think I'm ready to go out. Like in town and stuff." You bring up that night as the three of you lay in bed. Feyre and Rhys freeze next to you. You didn't need the bond to feel the nervous energy radiating from them.
They didn't need to say they were scared of letting you out of their sight. Rhys has always been terrified to be away from you and Feyre. But after somethig like this. Your kidnapping still felt fresh to them.
Rhys pulls you tightly to his chest, rubbing your hair soothingly. You feel Feyre move, wrapping her arms around your waist and resting her head against your back. Before they can say anything you add, "Not alone, not for awhile. But with you guys or the family." Your mates seemed to relax at that.
"Ok," Feyre mumbled. "Why don't we go to the cafe you like after we walk Nyx to school." "I'd like that." You mumble into Rhys's chest.
It took you a few weeks to get comfortable. Then some more time to trust anyone who wasn't Feyre and Rhys. It broke Cassian's heart to see you so jumpy.
Months later you finally gained the confidence to venture out on your own. Feyre and Rhys were hesitant to let you go. You wanted your independence back, it's been driving you nuts having them breathe down your neck. It started feeling like you were a kid they were babysitting.
You wanted to get back to your routine. It is Thrusday, meaning it's family night. And what better way to get into your routine than food shopping and setting up for game night.
You decided to pull out all the stops for tonight. On your to do list is find a new board game and make a dessert you found in a new recipe book the House of Wind so kindly gifted you on your last visit.
Leaving the house you gave them each a kiss goodbye. You couldn't leave fast enough honestly. It felt like they were letting you go a little too easy. Stepping onto the porch you shrugged the feeling off, basking in the mid-morning sun before starting the walk into town.
With an iced coffee in hand you set out on your little shopping adventure. After your stop in the toy store for a new game you ran into Mor. Instead of just saying hello she continued walking with you until the farmers market.
Picking up an apple you swear you see a shadow quickly slink to the ground. Tilting your head your eyes wander across the fruit selections, watching for any other shadows. You continue with shopping for ingredients for tonight.
After the farmers market you take a detour on the way home, stopping at your favorite bookshop. It's been months since you've been here. Relying on the library at the House of Wind. As much as you love the endless selection you miss getting your own books.
Looking down at the cobblestone street you notice soemthing off about your shadow. Like something was tariling you. Stopping you quickly look around the street, paranoid that it could be something more.
Something blue catches the sun at the entrance to an alleyway to your left. It disappears into the unsual darkness for this time of day. As you keep staring the blue gem reappears, followed by three more and then a face only you would be able to see in the darkness. Azriel gives you a nod as a small, calming smile crosses your lips.
You continue walking, the bookstore only a few paces away. You couldn't believe your mates were having you followed. You thought you were at a point where you didn't need to be looked after. You let out a mental groan hoping it was loud enough for Rhys to hear.
The bell above the door to the shop rings and you shake it off. Marcy greets you cheerily, "Y/n! It's been so long, how are you." The female rushes over to you, embracing you in a warm hug. "I'm good honey, how are you?"
The two of you fall into easy conversation as she shows all the new books she got in. You periodically glance out the window to see if Azriel was still watching you. You shake your head, letting out a small chuckle. "What's up?" Marcy gives you curious look.
"Nothing," you wave her off, "just remembering something Rhys and Feyre said earlier." New customers come in Marcy leaves you to wander.
It's hard to focus on the titles in front of you with the thought of Azriel outside, waiting for you to make your next move. It's not so bad, you think. At least Azriel isn't standing right next to you. If this is what it takes for them to have peace of mind then you'll let it slide.
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highvern · 9 months ago
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Sales Pitch
Pairing: Moon Junhui x fe!reader
Genre: Smut, 21+
Warnings: dom reader, sub/brat jun, anal sex (m. receiving), pegging, oral (m & f receiving), degradation, sex toys, impact play, breath play, freak deakys fr!!!
Length: 3.6k
Note: for my bestie @wenjunehui i hope its all you dreamed of and more pookie
Remember: Tumblr runs on reblogs and I run on validation in the tags and comments :)
Part II
read more here
This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!
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“Do you think these make my boobs look big?”
You turn to find Jun modeling the new shipment of nipple clamps over his shirt, the metal chain glinting across his chest from each peaked bud. His hands lift behind his head to further highlight the adornment.
“Gigantic.” You quip, diving back into the box filled with an assortment of lube.
In the six months you’ve been working at Bad Kittyz, you’ve discovered more about your coworker's weird fetishes than you really should. 
Even in snippets of conversation with customers, you hear him recommend toys and gadgets like he’s tried them all. Products that haven’t moved off the shelf since you started and look like they’ve sat there even longer than that he talks about like old friends. The day Jun discussed the installation of a sex swing with a woman pushing sixty you came to the conclusion the sex dungeon under his apartment must be stocked beyond belief.
A crash from behind you makes you turn, finding Jun stumbling as he struggles into a harness.
“What are you doing?”
“We got these strap ons and—”
Cutting him off, you eye him with confusion. “I can see that but why are you trying it on? You have a dick.”
“Sorry I like to give our customers my most informed opinion.” Jun rolls his eyes, going back to fidgeting with the straps.
“Please don’t say that.” You wince. “Not when you sold that sex machine yesterday.”
“What do you mean? You don’t think we should try the products before selling them?”
You blush at the implication that he’s tried everything he’s sold. Including the sex machine.
“I didn’t say that. But you don’t even need a strap.”
“I’m not gonna sell it without first hand knowledge.”
“I think that means you should get pegged then.” You sniff, turning back to your work.
You don’t want to be honed into his body. Every breath, every creak of the old floor boards as he moves closer. Even the heat of his body against your back wouldn’t register under normal circumstances but now it's overwhelming. 
Jun seems hell bent on making it even worse.
“Is that an offer?”
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An entire day of preparation only serves to fan the flames of nervousness. Wrinkled laundry from weeks ago gets folded, every dish you own sits spotless in the cabinets; you’ve even lint rolled your couch. It’s more than you’ve done for any hookup before and it makes you jitter with embarrassment. 
The day barely dips into the afternoon by the time you're done. It gives you too much time to think. Your bedroom is off limits. Already prepped with fresh sheets, towels, and condoms. If you have to see the set up you might start scratching at the walls.
A shot of liquor helps take the edge away. Just enough you can sit on the couch without shaking out of your skin. But not enough to stop you from rotating through the same apps over and over in hopes a distraction will take your brain away from thoughts of Jun bent over the edge of your bed with his ass displayed.
When he finally arrives, you nearly puke. Because now its real and you’re about to fuck your hot coworker with a fake cock like its just another normal Thursday for him.
Jun smiles as you open the front door. It’s innocent at face value, only the edges tilting into something fouler. 
“What's up?”
“Please don’t try to act casual.” You warn, stepping aside so he can enter.
“No idea what you’re talking about.”
He flings himself onto the couch and somehow manages to still look hot despite the awkward angle of his limbs. The bag full of contraband sits on the floor, unassuming despite carrying a menagerie of who knows what. 
Crossing your arms in faux nonchalance, you nod towards the opposite end of your apartment. “Bathroom’s down the hall.”
“Okay?”
“Listen, it's not that I don’t trust you.” You sigh. It's a lie. You trust him as far as you can throw him. For all you know that tote bag could have cuffs and collars and a sex swing tucked away. “But I’m about to be closer to your ass than should be legal so I want to make sure.”
“Fine.” Jun shrugs, slipping past you while removing his shirt. “Are you coming too?”
The broad expanse of his back disappears behind the bathroom door. A creak preceding the patter of the shower vaguely registers in your brain still operating a mile behind. You don’t follow immediately, unwilling to bear to witness what he needs to get done. And maybe you want him to sweat for it, knock him off balance the same way you’ve been since he asked for this. 
But after a few minutes your feet move you his way, clothes falling with each step closer to the cracked door. But not before you snag the bottle of lube out of his bag. You’re almost disappointed by the lack of oddities beyond the strap on.
The hum of his voice bubbles behind the curtain. You find him lathered up when you duck into the stall, foamy tendrils lacing across his back and down his legs. 
“Wow, you don’t waste any time.” He jokes, turning over his shoulder to spot the bottle still squeezed tight in your palm.
Shouldering past him into the spray, you scoff.  “You asked me to pop your cherry and now you’re complaining?”
Jun doesn’t respond, scrubbing at his skin while following the streams of water webbing over your chest. You don’t object when he pulls you into his orbit, following until your mouths meet with ease. The nudge against your thigh feels juvenile against what you’re about to do but it doesn't stop you from taking advantage. 
Water doesn’t provide the smoothest glide but Jun doesn’t seem to mind, bucking into the catch of your palm. He turns pliant with a lazy swipe against his slit and a lick between his teeth. His shoulders shelter you from the downpour as you turn him, slowly dropping down until you’re face to face with his cock. 
Blinking lazily, you tongue where he leaks against your fingers, glowing at the twitch muscles across his stomach. Steam shrouds around his face but it can't hide the grind of his jaw.
“Good?” 
Jun nods, hands limp at his side. Finding the bottle again, your fingers shine with excess as you reach underneath and glide them across his ass. You suck him down to soften the stretch but Jun doesn’t so much as flinch when your finger slips in without resistance.
Popping off his cock, your eyebrow arches. “Have you done this before?”
“Umm,” he swallows, pinking from the neck up. “Define ‘this’?”
“Had fingers in your ass.”
He hesitates; bashful despite still being stretched over your knuckle. “Yes.”
“Wow, and here I thought I was special.”
Jun’s rebuttal is lost to a groan, ripped out by the curve of your throat against the head of his cock. The timidity of taking his first time evaporates through your veins, replaced by the hunger to be the best he’ll ever get.
A second finger proves little challenge either and you almost pull back to goad him but one glance at Jun’s face hints he might cum if you degrade him too much. Instead, you take the satisfaction of his taste on your tongue as a win and keep curling your fingers until his hips kick.
“More lube,” he croaks.
You rush to do what he asks, pouring so much onto your fingers it drips down his legs when you press back in with a third finger. The new stretch has you gagging on him again.
“Fuck yeah. Oh shit.”
Replacing your mouth with a hand, you lap at the raised vein running from his base to his abs. “How big is the dildo you brought?”
His Adam's apple bobs with your next stroke. “I–Mhmmm.”
“Jun, how big is it?”
The water creeps cold and you're about to start humping his leg if you don’t find something new to distract yourself with. So you stop until he answers.
“Small.” 
You reward him with a quick glide but that's all. “Think you’re ready?”
A quick inhale and a nod has you rising to your feet, rinsing off your used hand before turning the faucet and exiting into the chilly air.
“Grab the lub—” 
Jun cuts you off with his mouth. He laps away his own taste, nearly bending you in half with enthusiasm. The idea of lifting your leg and letting him fuck you against the counter whispers in the back of your mind; how easy he can fill you before you take him back to your bed and give him the same treatment. But, just based on how he kisses, you can tell if you indulge now then you’ll be much too tired later.
His stomach bows when your nails find his nipple, scraping the sensitive bud on a whim. Something about the way he responds, whiney and breathless, sends you into a frenzy. 
“Go grab,” a pass of his teeth, “your bag and,” another draw of his tongue. “Meet me in my room.” 
You almost cave to his attempt at drowning you in his affection but you break away, turning back to the shower for the bottle. Jun’s hand ghosts down your spine, fingers digging into the swell of your ass for a second until he dissolves through the door.
Unable to prolong the charade, you follow only a few seconds behind. 
Jun sprawls across your bed like a renaissance painting. Nothing but long limbs and lean muscle. Damp skin shimmering like liquid golden in the light of the singular lamp. One leg bent at the knee, not so subtly bringing your gaze to his length; stiff and sticky against his thigh. The harness rests at the foot of the bed, more daunting than the naked man only feet away.
Tossing the bottle of lube down, you grab the tangle of straps and try to orient yourself. It’s straightforward but the crawl of eyes over your body makes you falter. 
“Stop staring at me.” You bite when you nearly drop the entire thing.
Jun huffs, an arm flinging over his face. “I grabbed the one with a vibe built in. But you can use the normal one if you want.”
You refuse to dwell on the sweetness in such a vulgar scenario. The thick purple vibrator rests next to a smaller black one, both sleek silicone. If he’s offering you equal pleasure you’d be a fool not to take it so you snatch up the larger of the two and set to work. 
The harness shimmies up your hips almost too easily. All it takes is a tug here and a pull there and you’re ready to dick down your hot coworker with a fake cock and too much lube. And its when you notice the ring of plastic on the nightstand.
“What's this?”
You know what it is. Unpacked a box of them a few days ago while he helped a customer pick out a fleshlight. But getting Jun to admit it makes you salivate.
He peeks from behind his hand, eyes dropping to your finger donned with the cock ring. The smirk on your face refuses to be concealed under his view.
“A dick in your ass isn’t enough?” You ask, feigning innocence as you round the bed and sink the cushion under your knees. “Or are you really that much of a freak?”
Jun sinks back. Crawling over him, you plant on his thighs, savoring the twitch of his own cock when you drop the piece of silicon on his stomach. Your fake dick and his real one clash beautifully next to one another. You worry you’ve pushed too far, growing hesitant under his moon eyed gaze.
Raking your nails across his stomach, and Jun finally answers your goad when you reach the crease of his hip.
“I’m—I’m a freak.”
It’s completely silent as you eye one another up. Pupils blown and chest heaving at the cliff you’re about to jump off of.
“Then show me.”
Creeping up his chest, you rest the tip of the strap against the pink of his mouth. He doesn’t miss a beat, leaves no room for any more nerves as he sucks it in, the purple disappearing inch by inch behind his lips. 
You should have known he’d be messy, anticipated the way he drools and moans. But it hits you like you can actually feel any pleasure through the faux extension. Even if you don’t feel physical stimulation, his hands at your ass, pushing your hips until you catch his hint and give a few shallow thrusts of your own, makes your ears ring.
Jun campaigns for gold, swallowing around the intrusion like he loves nothing more than taking cock. Like he could cum like this, untouched, gagging on a fake dick while you watch him.
“Shit,” you curse as his nose meets your stomach, bottoming out in the softness of his throat like he’s sucked more dick than you’d believe.
You curse again when one of his hands drops to find the button that’ll make the end of the cock buried inside you vibrate. Hips rutting into the stimulation, tears bead in his eyes while he chokes. 
Rising away you push him back when he attempts to follow, “Fuck, thats enough. Jesus Christ.”
You find the bottle of lube and the cock ring. Dribbling a generous dose on his cock, you wait until he starts rolling it down.  Jun doesn’t resist the urge to jerk off, knuckles brushing against the spit soaked plastic of the strap.
Tangling your fingers with his own, you squeeze him through a tight fist until he’s kicking. 
“Turn around,” you breathe. “Don’t stop, but if you cum I will.”
He doesn’t tell you that he can’t cum with the new addition but the idea that he is staving off licks up your spine. 
More lube shines across his ass and you slide the head of the dildo through the mess in a tease, barely nudging at his entrance before moving away. The way he attempts to force you in is nothing compared to the curve of his spine when his chest falls to the sheets.
“C’mon,” he whines.
A fist stops him from sinking back, giving him just an inch of pure frustration and nothing more.
“How bad do you want it?”
“So bad.” Jun groans, gifted with another inch of stretch before you stop him again.
Draping over his back, you nip at his earlobe before whispering, “Then ask for it.”
Rising up, you give a harsh tug of hair, a broken cry cracking through the air.
“Please, please, please,” he chants.
Annoyance taints your sigh, sending you back to square one with the fake cock resting between his cheeks. It’s hard to pretend you’re not just as desperate. Between the heaven blessed image of Jun on his knees, begging for cock, and the vibrations making your thighs twitch, you’re nearly on the verge of begging him to fuck you instead.
You squirt more lube, making it messier like some cheap porno. Clean up will suck but right now you don't care.
“Please what?” You sing, hand massaging the lube between his cheeks.
“Please fuck me!”
You don’t wait for more, rewarding the bare minimum by letting him take as much as he wants as fast as he wants it. There’s no way he’s never done this before. Jun rides dick better than you, keeping pace without faltering and rocking with so much enthusiasm you itch for your phone to record such depravity.
Each clap of his ass against your pelvis rocks the toy just right inside you, until you're seizing. Part of you hates he’s getting you off so easily. And you take it out by leaving a red copy of your hand on his ass. 
Jun collapses with a squeak and you follow. Each rut of your hips has him rippling with one of his own, destroyed between the fullness of his ass and the roughness of your sheets against the sensitive tip of his cock. 
“Harder,” he whines.
You try. But few pathetic cants leave him crying for more than you can provide with the angle you’re in. 
Jun’s limbs shoot out when you sit back, scrambling to be full again. He looks over his shoulder, tears in his eyes as he opens his mouth. No doubt to curse you to high heavens for edging him.
“Flip over.”
On autopilot he flips to his back, knees rising to his chest to show off the damage you’ve done. His cock sits wet and aching, stiff in the confines of the cock ring. 
You slip back in, only teasing with more light strokes while working off his confines; the insatiable hunger to see him covered in his own cum infecting your every move. Jun’s lips are bruised, worried between his teeth at ever pass against that spot inside him. It’s worse when you circle his cock. Each jerk in time with your hips sending his head further back into the pillows and baring his throat for whatever marks you want to leave.
But Jun doesn’t crave the sting of your teeth or the plump drag of your tongue. Instead, without an ounce of reserve, he pulls your hand up the dip between his collar bones, blankets your hand with his own, and squeezes.
“You’re such a slut,” you spit, delighting in cutting his next moan off before it can even begin. “Say it. Say you're a slut.”
“I’m a slut!”
“Can’t hear you.”
Flailing under the beratement, Jun groans again. “I’m a slut!”
He’s so easy. So eager to roll in the pleasure and pain you provide. It bleeds through his features, the way his body contorts and his face shifts. It makes you itch to stretch him so far he has no choice but to snap. 
“Are you gonna cum?” Your voice is hopeful. Its all you want. All you need. “Is this all it takes? Getting called a slut with your ass full and you’re ready to blow your load?”
Another violent curl of his back until he’s nearly in half. “Shit, yes. Yes, yes, yes, yes!”
This time when you stop, Jun takes over immediately. The tip of his cock peaks through his fist, pearly beads dripping until he seizes. Rope after rope paints his chest, crude gems in the low light. Face twisted in pure agony. He looks like a dream. Like a model in the magazines tucked away in the backroom of the shop. 
The end of the vibrator buried inside you keeps you at a dull hum. You bubble just on the edge of your orgasm but watching Jun twitch and writhe is better than anything you can possibly think of. Except dipping down and lapping away the stains on his skin, sucking his cum coated nipples until he drives you on to your back. 
It takes some maneuvering but he manages to wedge his tongue under the toy and find the patch of nerves like he’s been there a thousand times. 
He laps at your clit, hot and languid and dirty; all while he angles the vibrator buried inside you to bully against your front wall, breaking you into a twitching sweaty mess.
“Fuck, oh fuck—don’t stop.”
Your back curves, spine bending almost in half when Jun sucks and delivers another harsh push bordering on cruel. His free hand lands flat on your chest, forcing your shoulders back into the pillows with ease.
“Please, please, please,” you chant, curling your hips up into Jun’s face. He abandons his previous grips, focusing on guiding your body across his tongue until your thighs spasm.
His groans echo loudly despite his face being buried in your cunt; scorching into your muscles until it hurts. Cruel fingers pluck at your nipples, tugging until you yelp and then pinching some more.  Jun doesn’t stop until you wedge your fingers between your pussy in his mouth, continuing to lick and suck until he opens his eyes and realizes you're swatting him away.
Croaking an intelligible nose, you collapse; only focused on the soaking kisses across your hips and up your breasts. The tickle of Jun’s bangs against your neck don’t even elicit a response. The room spins as you return to your body. Only the weight of the man on top of you keeps you from floating away. 
Later, after another shower that is really only an excuse for some lazy groping and equally lethargic kisses, you cuddle up on the couch. Jun decides your chest is his new home, happily buried between your breasts while the movie drones on in the back. Weed still reeks in the air but it makes the edges hazy, glowing like the sun beats through your veins. 
“Ya know,” Jun whispers into your sternum. “Next week we’re getting ball gags.”
It doesn’t throw you off. Your fingers continue combing through his hair, nails scratching his scalp until goosebumps bloom on his bare back. “Let me guess, you wanna try them out?”
“If you’re offering.”
Your next exhale carries you to sleep. “Only if I get to wear it.”
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@tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @horanghaezone
© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.
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so-long-soldier-writes · 6 months ago
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The Light in My Darkness
damon salvatore x gn!reader | requested
summary: after your boyfriend's death, you fell back into old habits. now that he's back, you're having trouble kicking them again.
tags: angst, hurt / comfort, depression, s3lf h4rm, kisses
word count: 1.7k
a/n: i typically don't write for damon, however i feel comfortable writing this subject matter and i'm getting better with understanding his character. honestly, too, i rewatched s7 and i'm starting to love him even more. (i just love the traumatized characters.)
also, i'm not good at titles. my first title had the word 'put' in it, but i stared at it so long, it didn't look like a word anymore and i had to change it. i think i like this one better. i stg, titles are half the reason i take so long to post. whew, anyway... enjoy ❤️
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“Stefan needs help at Whitmore,” Damon says hurriedly. He puts his phone in his back pocket and sighs. “Another Enzo situation.”
“Do you want me to come?”
“No, you stay here. I don’t want him anywhere near you, given he’s in one of his moods and would hurt you for no reason.” He gives you a quick kiss. “I’ll be right back.”
“Okay.”
He speeds out the door a moment later, leaving you alone in the large, empty house. You sigh. Your life is so full of supernatural drama, it’s hard to keep up. Honestly, you’re not even sure what the situation is with Enzo, or why he and Stefan hate each other so much, or how Damon knows what to do to de-escalate their arguments. Of course, Caroline debriefed you on it sometime ago, but with all the craziness happening lately, it pretty much went over your head. 
It’s been hard these last few months. Only recently had Damon returned to you from four months after being considered dead, alongside Bonnie, as the other side collapsed with him in it. Those months had been the hardest of your life, and you doubted your ability to make it through them. Losing your best friend and your boyfriend was something you never thought you’d have to endure, yet it happened. Losing them almost killed you, too. 
For three years, you were clean. You hadn’t touched a single blade since you and Damon got serious. He gave you a reason to stop without even knowing it, and with a lot of patience with yourself, you managed to kick the addiction. After he died, though, when you couldn’t bear to live without him, you picked it back up. Part of you is pissed for falling back into your old ways, but the other part has convinced yourself it’s what you need to do to survive. 
When he came back unexpectedly, you were filled with just as much panic as you were joy. You had him back, but had relapsed majorly, and now have to recount your old steps into being sober again. It hasn’t been easy. 
It’s been a couple days since your last time, and while your skin’s no longer bright and swollen, it seems to beg for your attention. You have to plan it carefully, making sure Damon will be gone long enough that he won’t sense the fresh blood. When he grabs your wrists to kiss your face, you don’t want to flinch in slight pain, or let him pick up a chance in your heartbeat. 
It’s such a complicated addiction to have when dating a vampire, yet fighting the urges are so hard, sometimes you can’t help but give into them. 
The blades in the bathroom are ready for you when you enter. A brand new pack sits in the drawer. The boys won’t miss one or two. The one time Stefan did notice, you blabbered a quick lie about needing one to scrape a bit of food dried to the stovetop. He was in such a rush that day, he didn’t catch any lie, and you were able to smile and flee the scene a moment later. Since then, you make sure to hold onto the one you have until there’s enough to not see one missing. 
With everyone seemingly involved in the Enzo situation, you don’t bother to shut the door completely before dragging the blade across your skin. The boarding house is empty, and this bathroom in particular is tucked away nicely behind the stairs. You make a few scattered cuts and watch the blood seep from them. It always seems to calm you in the most grotesque way, and, quite ironically, gives you the perfect dopamine rush that raises your spirits despite the pain. It’s a terrible addiction but with a high reward… until you have to hide the evidence. 
That little reminder makes you sigh. Too many scars are hard to hide, and with Damon back, you have to be careful. It would break him to see you this way; that thought alone makes you put down the blade. For a moment longer, you stare at the tricking blood, committing the sight to memory to maybe fend off the next urge. To imagine the blood on your skin may convince yourself it’s there, and maybe you won’t cut the next time you’re so desperate. Maybe. 
You reach for a piece of toilet paper to dab the wounds. The bleeding needs to stop before you crave another scare. It’s so tempting, but-
“Hey,” Damon appears suddenly, peeking through the door. His eyes are narrowed, as if sensing something’s wrong. “What are you doing?”
You turn to face him and hold your hands around your back quickly. “Nothing.”
“Are you sure?” He opens the door a little wider, seeing the reflection of your hidden hands in the mirror. “Let me see your arms.”
“I’m okay.” Nervously, you pull down your sleeves to hide your wounds as much as possible. Your eyes meet the floor, unable to lie if you look into his blues.
“No, you’re not.” He argues, anxious to see your face; to not let you shy away and avoid his gaze. His approach makes your heart race, confirming his worst fears. “Let me see.”
“I thought you were leaving. I thought Stefan needed you.”
“He does, but he can wait.”
“But-”
“You’re my first priority. I can tell something’s up. Please,” he brushes a hair away from your face, “let me in.”
“Damon, I’m fine.”
“You’re hurting, and I can smell the blood, and I’m really trying hard not to freak out right now.”
You huff at the realization that he could smell it. You should’ve waited for him to be gone longer before breaking your skin. “Promise me you won’t be mad.”
“Why would I be mad?”
“Just promise me.” Tears well in your eyes, but you let them fall, unwilling to take your hands off your sleeves. 
“Y/N, I promise. I could never be mad. Just let me see it.”
Slowly, you release your sleeves, but leave the task of rolling them up to him. You can’t bear to do it yourself. Damon takes one hand gently and pulls the sleeve back. Upon seeing the numerous cuts, he pulls the other back with a little more vigor, but is still careful not to hurt you. He stares, unable to speak or move, as his heart breaks with every passing second. 
“I’m so sorry,” you whisper. His eyes meet yours and you finally break down into tears. 
Without a moment of hesitation, he pulls you into a hug, wrapping his arms protectively around your body. You feel safe in his arms, you always do. Damon has a way about him that always makes you feel safe, no matter what anyone else thinks of him. He’s loyal and understanding, and that is part of the reason you feel so horrible for not telling him this. 
“I’m sorry,” you repeat, now sobbing into his chest. 
Your heart beats and reminds him that you are alive. The cuts made into your skin weren’t deep enough to take you. The pain you have been feeling hasn’t swallowed you whole. He concentrates on your breathing, and your crying, and uses it to anchor himself before asking the thousands of questions flooding his mind. 
He pulls away, finally, and wipes your tears with his thumbs. His hands grip your shoulders with a gentle desperation, as if he’s afraid you could dissipate at any moment. 
“Y/N…”
“I didn’t mean for you to find out this way.”
“Did you mean for me to find out at all?”
Your heart feels heavy as you reply, “honestly, no.”
“Why not tell me, Y/N? You know I love you. If you’re hurting, I want to be there for you.”
“I know… I guess I just didn’t want to disappoint you? Some part of me was embarrassed about it, and I didn’t want you to see me differently because of it. I don’t know.” 
“Baby, there’s nothing you could do that’d ever make me love you less. Nothing that would ever make me feel a different way, or see you in another light.”
“I know. I know my feelings are totally irrational, I just… they’re fears.”
“I understand.” He kisses your forehead, then releases your shoulders to hold your hands and kiss them, too. “Hey, can you promise me something?”
“I can try.”
“Come to me the next time you’re feeling like you want to hurt yourself, okay? Let me help you through it.”
“But-”
“It doesn’t matter what’s going on, or who’s texting, I will drop anything and put you first. But you gotta let me in when you need it. Okay?”
“Okay.” You take a deep breath. “Thank you.”
“Of course. Now,” he pauses, biting into his arm and holding it out for you to drink. His other hand meets the back of your head, stabilizing your neck to keep you comfortable. 
To his dismay, you refuse. You try to pull away, but his other hand prevents that, so you look down instead. “I can’t.”
“Y/N…”
“The scars are a reminder that I bleed. As soon as they fade away, the urge returns, but if they’re there for a little while, the urge is less strong. They’re kind of a comfort, I think. A reminder.”
“So you don’t want me to heal them?”
“I’d rather not. They don’t bother me too much. Do they bother you?”
You can see the hesitation in his eyes. He fights with himself, knowing the sight is a reminder of your pain, but understands their existence helps you heal. After a moment, he shakes his head. “No, baby, I only care that you’re safe.” He kisses them one more time. “Have you eaten much today?”
“Not really.”
“Well… do you mind if I make you something, even if it’s just something small, and then we can sit together on the couch? We’ll take today slow.”
“Okay. Wait, but what about Stefan?”
“Caroline can handle it. Then he’ll be in her debt and she’ll be happy about it,” he jokes.
You smile, appreciating his humor despite the somber mood hanging above both your heads. He’s the light in dark times, the much needed laugh that breaks the awkward silence. It’s part of the reason you fell for him so quickly. 
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
“Okay. And thank you.”
He pulls you in to kiss your forehead, then reaches for your hand. “Of course.”
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caramelstarlight · 5 months ago
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I’m not sure if your request are open but I was wondering if I could get a Tighnari x reader who acts like a housewife to him
No worries! It’s open as long as I’m active.
Late as heck reply, sorry about it! 💚 Anyways, here’s the story! Might be rusty, super sorry. 😭
The Fox and the Sunshine
•Green=Tighnari
•Purple=Y/N
•Setting: Teyvat, no AU. (Y/N isn’t Traveler)
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You’d always take care of any chores that Tighnari couldn’t have the time for, as a result of his work and constantly needing to plan or write down to reports. Despite just dating, you both have already lived together in Gandharva ville. He’d oversee majority of the tasks and jobs, whereas you helped around the house and the occasional job or errand from him. Unable to refuse, you always accepted, not just because you felt bad, but he always needed an extra hand with work.
Today was another regular day, you’d focus on the chores at home. While carrying the laundry basket, you passed by his room. Eager to take a peek, opening the door slowly and moving up to him to see what he was doing.
Not much to your surprise, he’d be focused on documents, scribbling down with the occasional tail or ear flick. His attention primary on his work before answering you. “What do you need Y/N?” Unable to look up from his papers, instead, letting his tail gently rub against your leg with a slight smirk of happiness.
“Oh umm…I just wanted to know if you needed any extra help? I just finished with laundry and was about to fold it.” You’d tell and ask him politely, gently petting his tail while waiting for a reply.
“Oh I see. Could you lend me a hand and go check the bulletin board? That’d be helpful, I need to know what requests are there.” He’d let his tail unwrap from your leg, allowing you to be free to go check on the board.
You’d nod your head in reply, quickly touching his ears before going back to do the laundry, folding it and placing them in the appropriate spots. Mentally checking it off your list and quickly going to the bulletin board outside to see if anyone had asked about something.
“Oh?” You’d murmur softly, gently lifting a newly posted paper, taking an interest in it and beginning to read. Skimming through before letting the edge you held drop back down. ‘That was interesting…I’ll go tell him while it’s still fresh in my mind.’
His ears would perk, hearing your return and continuing to file or work on documents. When he smelt your scent in the room, he’d nod as a way to acknowledge your presence and to start talking.
“There was a new one, it was talking about a dude who was supposedly an acknowledged and renowned adventurer, did you hear about them?” The voice echoed through his ears, still as sweet as he remembers. “You have to be more specific for an answer. This could be anyone.” “Oh right. Well, they’re blond and have sunshine eyes, they’re called the Traveler? Does it ring any bell?”
His ears would perk with a flick of his tail, trying to come up with an answer as well as focusing on his work. “I’ve heard of them a few times, Amber has told us about their heroic deeds and everything.” The pen / quill (whatever u prefer for him to use.) quickly moved across the paper, effectively and efficiently filling it out before reading and working on another document.
“Hm.” You’d reply with a nod, watching him work from behind and leaning on the chair. Wrapping your hands around what you could cover on his body, observing with a smile. “Don’t worry my dear, I’ll make time for you today. Just give me about half an hour or so?”
After finishing all the documents, turning and looking up at you. “Can you go place them in their respective slots?” He’d referred to the baskets or trays he had with certain labels on them for whatever the papers were about. Handing them in piles for you to place before stretching.
“Oh! That reminds me, I have to go make us lunch! Hold on I’ll be right-“
“No need.”
“Huh?”
“No need, I’ll go buy us something with Mora. Any preference? It’s as a thank you and a sorry for being unable to spend time together.” He’d respond while looking at you, waiting for your response.
“Oh anything’s fine!” You’d respond in a heartbeat, low-key interested in what’d he’d buy. “I’ll focus on the rest of the housecleaning and chores for you!” Tighnari would nod his head before bringing you closer for a hug, wrapping his tail around your thigh and burying his face in his neck. The tip of his tail wagging after inhaling a bit of your iconic scent.
“Thank you, my Sunshine.”
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icywaddle · 4 months ago
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I wonder if the PJSK characters ever notice the players actions. Wouldn’t it be so wonderful?
On her way to the store, Kanade notices a tiny flicker of Sekai Sprinkles™ flickering from her phone. She thinks nothing of it, only remembering when Mafuyu comments on a new fish swimming around the aquarium and freshly mended cracks on the mirror. The way the Sakai seems to hum with a comforting whisper, almost enveloping them all in a gentle embrace every time they arrive. Fresh blankets and pillows piled around the stage, boxes of bottled water and non-perishable snacks always fully stocked. Nobody knows who keeps everything maintained, but they always know exactly which flavor of cake to get for Ena’s birthday, and the fabrics and jewels Mizuki needs for every new costume they make.
Ichika sometimes thinks she sees a figure darting through the halls of the school Sekai. Shadowy, always out of reach, but not quite malicious. It seems to watch her sometimes, listen to her conversations. Nobody knows who it is, or maybe nobody is willing to fess up, but they all agree that the Sekai’s halls have been more well kept since they started appearing. Desks polished and shining, boards clean and uniform, CDs organized and instruments always in peak condition. Little additions seem to sneak their way in along with the cleaning sprees, small chibi stickers of the band members and vocaloids finding their ways onto everyone’s equipment. Saki adores them, but Shiho is just a tad more skeptical. Honami supposes it’s endearing, if not a little terrifying.
During a performance in the stage Sekai, Minori sees a lone white pair of glow sticks shining amidst the ocean blue like a glimmer of sunshine reflecting off the waves. She does her best to find the audience member, but they fade away into the crowd in no time. Haruka whirls her away, laughing as she finally catches up to Minori and tells her to take a break. A few new songs had appeared in the Sekai for them to listen to, playing gently over the speakers scattered around the stage. A few beanbag chairs had also been placed comfortably around the backstage area to give everyone a place to lounge around and relax. Sometimes Airi wonders where everything comes from, but Rin and Miku always seem to deflect her questions. Sometimes, Shizuku would catch them acting strangely, waving or winking to the empty air around the Sekai. Stranger still was when the Sekai seemed to hum back at them, Sekai Sprinkles™ flitting around their fingers like curious fireflies.
Tsukasa, even though he’d long accepted that he would never know everything about the Wonderland Sekai, always seemed to startle when random music began to blare across the stage speakers. New CDs appear in the audio office at least once a week, new songs and parts arranged and compiled neatly for their performances. The mood always seems to match whatever play they were performing. Melancholy and slow, fast paced and goofy- by this point the group had at least one song for every occasion. The growing stock of songs came with new shelving, installed in the operating office of the Wonderland Sekai. Emu would always take out several songs at a time to listen to or pitch to the others, bringing paper and pencil to illustrate her visions. Corresponding props tended to appear behind the stage, blueprints and machine parts scattered across the floor in an arrangement so chaotic yet so organized. Typical for for Rui. All of them agreed that something was strange, but nothing ever seemed to happen. If there was a force in the Sekai, at least it seemes… Passive, if not supportive. Nene always swears she can feel something watching her as she sings to the flowers, a sound almost like applause floating through the air whenever she falls silent.
Kohane has started noticing new art around the street sekai, pictures and art of VBS sprayed around the walls. Nobody seems to know who’s responsible, but they all agree that the art is pleasant, if a bit strange sometimes. She’s also heard some new music playing when she visits the Street Sekai cafe, continually asking Meiko about it. Kohane wonders where the music comes from and how Meiko finds out about it, but all she receives in response is a wink and a drink placed in her hand. In fact, she and the rest of VBS have all noticed that there always seem to be some questions none of the vocaloids have answers to… or don’t want to answer. Miku herself, despite trying her best to hide it, can sometimes be seen murmuring into the walls somewhere quiet in the endless sidestreets. It’s mostly Akito who finds her, noticing a flash of teal during his walks around the Sekai. As soon as he draws near, Miku always seems to know, spinning around and pulling a grin onto her face as she herds him back to the cafe. An mentions seeing something similar as well, but the two of them mutually agree that it’s… probably nothing to worry about? The Sekai is full of confusing things, they all know that. Toya often talks about doors he’s found around, padlocked and chained shut. Every time he goes near, tries to investigate, someone comes along to distract him. The twins, yanking his hoodie off with a coordinated attack and running away with it. Meiko, asking him to test a new pancake recipe with her. There’s always something about them, an oddly jittery energy in the glances they shoot back at the doors. He’s never had the heart to fight back, even when he noticed Sekai Sprinkles™ flickering and falling from the doors, shadowy hands waving at him from the tiny cracks between frame and door. Still, despite the horror of… Strange limbs appearing, there was something warm about them. Supportive. An would see them waving from audience seats sometimes, dark human figures flickering in the empty cafe seats. As soon as she stepped off of the stage, they would vanish, fading away with a clap or even a toothy smile. Once, one of them even… blew her a kiss? She’d walked around in a confused daze for the rest of the day.
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gingiesworld · 1 year ago
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We Can Be Late Together
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Main Masterlist
Lizzie Olsen x Fem Reader GiP 
Warnings: Smut. Fluff. Angst. Death
18+ MINORS DNI
Lizzie pov
I was walking through the halls to get to my first lesson of college fast because I was extremely late. As I turned a corner, I bumped into someone who just turned and ran the other way. I huffed as I scrambled to pick up my things when someone came over and helped me gather my things.
"Are you ok?" She asked me with a soft smile as I nodded shyly. She had the most mesmerising eyes you could get lost in.
"Yeah, I'm fine." I whispered as she just smirked at me.
"Why are you whispering?" She whispered making me chuckle as she joined in. "I'm Y/n." She said as she held out her hand to help me up.
"Lizzie." I introduced myself.
"Beautiful name for a beautiful woman." She flirted making me blush.
"I uh I'm late for English Lit." I said as I played with the handle of my bag.
"That's ok, I'm headed there now. We can be late together." She said as she held out her hand for me to take which I did and the butterflies went wild in my stomach. When we reached the lecture hall, the professor had already started the lesson and I hid behind Y/N since she towered over me and she didn't even stop me.
"You're late." They said to her as she just smirked.
"Someone bumped into me and I fell on my ass." She shrugged as she motioned for me to sneak in to a spare seat. My heart was beating out of my chest as I snuck to the spare desk at the back of the class.
"Ok then, please take a seat and copy what I have already written on the board." They said as she smiled and nodded before she made her way to the spare seat beside me.
"Hey mouse." She smirked as she got her books out of her bag beside me
"Mouse?" I questioned her as the professor shushed the class before droning on about what topics we will be covering this semester.
"You were all given a list of books that you needed to buy and read for this semester. I suggest you make sure you do." The professor said as they dismissed the class.
"So why did you call me mouse?" I asked Y/N as we both walked out of the class together.
"Because you were sneaky and got in without the nutty professor noticing you." She smirked as I blushed as she seemed proud of it. "It's the first time you've done something like that isn't it?" She asked me.
"Yeah it is." I said as I looked down embarrassed.
"It's nothing to be ashamed of. This is college, we're all grown up now." She smirked as we walked to my next class.
"What have you got now?" I asked her.
"Basketball practice." She said as she started to jog away before she returned. "Meet me in the cafeteria at lunch mouse." She said with a smirk before she ran again. I couldn't help admire her as she ran through the corridor full of students. I couldn't help the silly smile on my face as I walked to Dramatic Arts. She made my first day so much better than I thought it would be. Drama went by fast and I was fast to leave the room because I wanted to see Y/N. She was a breath of fresh air and amazing to be around. Not to mention that she confuses me a lot. I feel like I'm attracted to her but I have only ever been with men before so this is new. Not to mention I am still a virgin. As I made it to the entrance I saw her leaning against the wall waiting for me.
"Hey." I greeted her with a smile which she returned an even bigger one.
"Hey, you ready for some food?" She asked me as she towered over me as I nodded. I could never get tired of her taking my hand in hers and taking charge as she pulled me towards the cue and grabbed two trays and handed me mine. "So what are you majoring in?" She asked me as she picked what she wanted.
"Drama, I want to be an actress." I told her as I picked my own food.
"Wow. So Broadway or Hollywood?" She asked me as she paid for both of our food without giving me a chance. She carried both of our trays to a table away from the busy students and we sat across from each other.
"Hollywood. I am not a Broadway person but NYU has the best Drama programme in the states." I told her as we ate. "What about you?"
"Oh I'm here on a basketball scholarship. I want to make it to the WNBA." She told me as she finished her food. "It's always been a dream of mine. I actually have a cousin who is an actress." She told me as I listened as she spoke about her.
"Has she been in any movies that I know of?" I asked her as she thought.
"Nanny Diaries, Eight Legged Freaks. Scar has been in a load more but I am useless with movies." She said as she finished her drink. "We both grew up here in New York together. So what about you? Where are you from?" 
"Well I'm from California, my sisters were actresses but now they live here in New York and run their own fashion label." I told her with a smile. It's nice to have someone about who knows what it's like to grow up with someone famous in their family. We were having an excellent lunch until someone came up to Y/N.
"Hey Y/N/N, Dee's having a party tonight, her parents are out of town if you fancy coming?" They told her as they looked towards me. "You can bring your girlfriend." They smirked and I could have swore that I saw Y/N blush as she looked down before looking at me. 
"Would you like to come?" She asked me as they left the two of us alone. "You don't have to if you don't want to." She said quickly as I was overthinking things.
"I do want to, it's just that I'm nervous." I whispered as she gave me a soft smile. 
"Don't be. We will go together and I'll stay by your side the whole night and when you have had enough we can leave together." She told me. 
"What time do you usually go?" I asked her as we both cleared our trays and walked to the exit.
"We can get there for 9pm." She suggested as we walked around the quad for a while before our last lesson. "What dorm are you in?" She asked me. 
"I don't have a dorm. I have an apartment just outside of campus." I told her softly as she nodded. "If you want we could always meet after last lesson and go get your clothes and head to my apartment and you can help me pick what to wear." I suggested as she thought about it.
"Yeah that sounds like a plan." She smiled at me before we parted ways. "Meet back here after lesson?" She said as I nodded with a smile before I headed off. My first day couldn't have gone better than it has and it's all thanks to Y/N. She has made it calm for me and I am forever grateful for her. I got to the quad first and waited for almost 10 minutes when I saw her running from the direction she left earlier. "I'm so sorry I'm late. The professor just kept droning on and on." She said as she caught her breath making me smile that she ran here just to see me. I need to stop reading into these things. 
"That's ok Y/N." I smiled at her as she grabbed my hand and led me to her dorm. We walked there together with our hands intertwined. We looked like a couple to the passing students. We approached a door and stopped as she opened it.
"It's not much because it's just me but I do need a quick shower." She said as she started to get her stuff together. 
"Just pack your things and you can have it at mine if you'd like." I said with a smile as she nodded. I watched as she packed it all into a duffel and grabbed my hand and led me out of the dorm. Luckily school only started on a Friday so we could get the curriculum for our subjects and it's the weekend. We walked on the busy streets of New York to my apartment building. My sisters made sure to get me an apartment in a building with high security so they knew that I would be safe. I smiled at the doorman as I led Y/N to the lift and pressed my floor number. It's nice to have someone who is used to all of this because if they weren't, her mouth would be hanging open right now. "It's only a small one bedroom but it's enough for me." I said shyly as she looked around before looking at me. 
"It's a beautiful place. Very homey with all of the plants." She said as she looked at me. 
"I love my plants, it soothes me to tend to them." I whispered shyly as she just gazed in to my eyes intensely. 
"I think it's amazing that you have an outlet for the stress and anxiety." She said as she placed her bag down.
"How do you know I suffer with anxiety?" I asked her shyly as she stepped closer and cupped my cheeks to make eye contact with me. 
"The way you play with your fingers and bite your lip nervously. The way your eyes search every room to find an escape or when you bite the inside of your cheek." She said softly. 
"You've only just met me today." I stated quietly as I was getting lost in her eyes.
"And I would love to get to know you more." She smiled at me as my heart swelled at her statement. After the serious conversation that seriously has me questioning my sexuality, we spent a while watching Star Wars and eating before we decided to get ready and leave for the party. As we walked through the streets of New York, Y/N wrapped her arms around my shoulders and kept me close which forced me to wrap my arm around her. Maybe it is just my way of saying the I wanted to be closer to her. We walked to a house which had a small basketball court on the driveway with a couple of people playing around as the music was blaring and people dancing and talking. "Are you sure you're going to be ok with this?" She asked me as I nodded with a nervous smile before she kept me close as we walked inside. We walked up to her group of friends and she introduced me. The one who invited us earlier was her friend from high school, Jack. Dee was the one who's parents owned the house and a few years older with a few of her other friends. I was quite nervous about them because some of them seem to be from the rough end of town but they were all welcoming. 
"Just keep her away from T." Jack warned Y/N who's grip around my shoulder tightened as she pulled me closer making me wonder who this T was. 
"What is he doing here?" She asked Jack quietly as I watched her expression become serious. 
"He keeps coming around with Mike. He keeps trying to get Sian back but she keeps rejecting him. You know he doesn't take no for an answer." Jack told her as Y/N looked around the house. "So just be careful. Both of you." She said before she walked away. I looked at Y/N who kept looking around for T.
"Who is this T dude?" I asked her as she fixed her eyes on me.
"You don't want to meet him." She said with worry in her eyes. "He is always sweet and gentle when you first meet but he is bad news." She finished as her eyes landed on a tall half cast man. He looked a few years older than us, he looked around Dee's age. He was stood talking with Mike before his eyes caught Y/N and myself before he walked over to us. 
"Y/N, I haven't seen you in a while." He greeted her as he kept looking me up and down making me uncomfortable. I felt Y/N's arm around me tighten as she moved me closer to her. "Who is this you brought?" He asked her as he kept his eyes on me.
"This is my girlfriend Liz." She told him as I looked at her in shock before I quickly acted on what she was doing.
"Hi." I said sweetly as I rested my hands on Y/N's toned stomach under the shirt. I watched as his eyes followed my hand and saw something flash in his eyes. "It's nice to meet you."
"Why don't we get a drink and we can get to know each other." He suggested with a smirk as his eyes never left me.
"We're good T." She told him bluntly making him scoff. 
"I'm sure the cutie can answer for herself." He said with a smirk as I could feel the anger radiating from her. 
"Y/N, Liz come over here." Jack shouted us both from across the room thankfully. I dragged Y/N away from T as I could feel his eyes on the two of us. "Are you ok?" Jack asked us both as we both just nodded. She handed the two of us a drink before Y/N downed hers and I finished mine before Y/N dragged me to a bathroom upstairs away from everyone. She locked the door and leaned her head against it before she turned to face me with worry and fear in her eyes. 
"I'm so sorry I shouldn't have brought you here. I thought he would have given up with trying to get Sian back but I was clearly wrong." She said as she paced in the small bathroom. "And I am sorry that I introduced you as my girlfriend. I hoped that it would stop him from wanting you but clearly it has made him want you more." 
"It's ok Y/N. I don't ever have to see him again if I don't come to one of these parties." I told her softly as she sighed. "Just don't blame yourself for this ok."
"Should we head home?" She asked me with a small smile which I just nodded in reply. She held my hand as she led me through the house towards the exit. Once we were outside and up the street she took a deep breath and looked back before we started to walk again. Most of the way there she was quiet and very cautious of her surroundings.. 
"What is going on Y/N?" I asked her finally having enough. She stopped in her tracks and gave me her full attention. 
"I'm just a little on edge." She told me with a small smile. 
"Just a little?" I scoffed as I folded my arms across my chest. "You have been looking around over your shoulder like you are waiting for something to jump out of the darkness." 
"It's just complicated." She said sadly. "Let's get you home and we will talk about it another time ok." She reasoned and I just nodded as she held my hand in hers as she walked me to my door. "Here's my number, text me when you're free next." She said as she stood by the door with her duffel as she put her number in my phone. 
"It's 2am." I stated seriously.
"I know." She replied. 
"You can't go back now. It's dangerous." I told her genuinely because I want her to be safe. "Just stay with me." I told her as she shook her head. "Please." I begged her and used my puppy dog eyes which usually help me get what I want.
"Now that's not fair." She sighed as she gave in and allowed me to pull her to my room. "I'll be fine sleeping on the sofa." She said as I shook my head. I have no idea where my confidence came from when I next spoke.
"I want to share a bed with my girlfriend and cuddle." I told her with my lip between my teeth. She groaned and followed me reluctantly. I got myself undressed as did she. I noticed that she wears boxers but thought nothing of it as we both climbed into bed.
"Before you ever call me your girlfriend, there is a lot that you don't know about me." She whispered as she lay on her back as I turned to face her. 
"What do you mean?" I asked her as she looked at me softly.
"Spending today with you has been one of the best days I have ever had since before Scar stopped visiting but you have made it much better." She started as I just gazed in her eyes. "And truthfully I really like you but not in a friend type of way." She finished. I caressed her cheek as I watched her eyes slowly close as she leaned into my touch before I brought my lips to hers. Our lips moved perfectly together. 
"I really like you too Y/N." I whispered softly as she smiled before she remembered something else. 
"Before you jump into this." She said as she pointed between us before she continued. "There's something that you should know because most people don't want to be with someone they would call a freak." She said as she took a deep breath. "I am intersex." She whispered ashamed of who she is. I just looked at her with a smile before I kissed her again. 
"I don't care about what you have in your pants. I care about what you have in your heart and I feel happy when I am with you. You made the most stressful day of the semester so far easy. I truthfully hadn't had any anxiety attacks because you kept me grounded." I told her with a smile and watched as she took in every word letting it sink in. "We should get some sleep." I whispered before she lay on her back and opened her arms for me to snuggle into. Which I done immediately. 
That was the start of us. We learned a lot more about each other over the first year of us dating. She met my sisters and they loved her but not like I do. She supported me when I left for my semester in Russia to become the best actress I could. Even my mum loved her when they met over christmas since her family was visiting her cousin in Atlanta and she wanted to stay with me. I went to all of her games and cheered her on. She looked so sexy with the sweat dripping down her body, especially when she wiped her face with her jersey showing off those abs that are only for my eyes. They were playing against UCLA tonight and I was sat in my usual spot with Jack as we cheered Y/N on. It wasn't until Jack froze and I followed her gaze to the other side of the gym and noticed that T had came and watched every move that Y/N had made. I don't know why but he still makes me uncomfortable even though I have only crossed paths with him a few times and thankfully Y/N was with me at all times. 
The final buzzer went off and we won. Jack and I ran onto the court and I ran straight into her arms pressing a hard passionate kiss to her lips. 
"You were amazing Y/N." Jack said as we pulled away.
"Thank you." She whispered before she looked back at me. 
"You definitely looked sexy with all of that sweat." I whispered in her ear making her raise an eyebrow and smirk at me. "Don't shower." I told her sternly but before she could answer we were interrupted. 
"Good game Y/N. Nice to see you still have it in you." T said as he stood beside Jack.
"Thanks." She replied with a tight lipped smile as she held me closer to her. I still don't know what his deal is because Y/N has yet to tell me. "We're gonna go so see you." She said as she led me towards the locker room with her. She let out a huge sigh when she noticed that we were alone in the lockers. 
"What actually happened with him Y/N?" I asked her as I placed my hands on her face. 
"It's quite hard to explain." She whispered with tears in her eyes. 
Y/N pov
I wasn't for this conversation with her over who T was. I felt her eyes on me, watching my every move as I changed before I took a seat and sat on the bench in front of her.
"T is my step brother." I told her quietly as her eyes widened in shock. 
"You said he is your step brother." She questioned as I just nodded my head. 
"He used to be ok when we were younger but then he just kind of changed." I started as she sat beside me listening to every word I said. "Especially when he found out about my urm condition." I took a deep breath before continuing. "He knew I liked girls since I was 12 but he didn't find out that I was intersex until I was 16. He walked in on me and my ex at the time as we were you know." I said as she just listened. "He was furious because my girlfriend was in her senior year and we just kind of hit it off and T didn't like that because he liked her but she chose me. He said that I turned her dyke and started to call me a freak and would beat me up because of it."  I said as I motioned downstairs as Lizzie nodded in understanding. "We just started to drift apart and then we became estranged and he only bothers showing up sometimes because he wants to get in to some new girls pants and that is how he sees you. Because I am happy with you. Happier than I have ever been with anyone, he wants to take that away from me because he thinks I manipulated Taylor." 
"Wow. That is a lot." She said as she stood up and faced me. "And you couldn't have told me sooner?" She asked me as she stood between my legs cupping my face forcing me to look into her gorgeous green eyes. 
"I was ashamed." I whispered as I forced myself to look away. 
"None of that was your fault. You are an amazing person Y/N, and I am falling for you. Since the day you said that we can be late together and took my hand in yours." She said with a soft smile as she tightened her grip on my jaw. I could see her leaning in and met her half way in a gentle passionate kiss. This is the place that makes me happy. She makes me happy. As the kiss turned into a make out session she straddled my lap and held my neck as I held her hips tightly as our tongues danced together. "I'm ready Y/N." She whispered as she gazed in my eyes and all I could see was a tiny slither of the green that I love. I gave her a soft peck and stood up and grabbed my duffel as we both walked hand in hand to her apartment. As soon as we were inside and I closed the door, her lips were on mine in an instant as she devoured me. She took control of the kiss as we walked to her bedroom.
Lizzie's pov
I was happy that she opened up to me, it shown me that she can be vulnerable with me and I admire her for that. But I am truly falling in love with her. She stopped her movements before she pulled away slightly to look in my eyes. 
"Are you sure about this?" She asked me as I pulled her in for another kiss. 
"I am sure. I want this. I want you." I whispered before she pulled me closer and kissed me harder making me moan as her tongue invaded my mouth. She helped me remove my shirt before she moved her hand to my jeans and undone the button and zip. She pulled them down with her as she got on her knees, her eyes never leaving mine as I stepped out of the before she stood up and caressed my cheeks while gazing in my eyes lovingly. 
"You are absolutely stunning Elizabeth." She husked out as I helped her out of her clothes, leaving the both of us in our underwear. I couldn't get enough of her toned form, the way her v line is always so prominent along with her abs. I pulled her back into me and kissed her again as she lay me down gently on the bed. I couldn't help the smile on my face as she was so gentle with me. She reached over to my night stand with a smirk at the box of condoms I had bought recently just incase. "You're prepared." She teased as she ripped one off the strip as I removed my bra and watched as her eyes raked over my chest. I could feel her hardened member against my clothed core as she was situated with her crotch in between my legs making me moan. 
"Please just have me Y/N. I need you in me." I whispered seductively before I bit my lip and watched as she fell silent. We both made quick work of our underwear before she put the condom on. 
"This may hurt at first." She said softly as she gazed in my eyes. "If you want to stop at any time, just tell me and I will stop." She finished as I pulled her in for a loving kiss. 
"I'm ready Y/N. Please I want you." I reassured her before I hissed in pain as she pushed her length inside of me. She waited until I was used to it before she started to thrust slowly, the pain slowly turning into pleasure. I let a moan slip past my lips before I pulled her down for a sloppy kiss. She started to increase her speed hitting a certain spot making me go wild. Luckily we have fooled around before so I know what to expect with the feelings and warning signs of my orgasm. She had only ever made me cum and never pressured me into pleasuring her if I didn't want to. It's not that I didn't want to, it's more I don't know what I am doing. My hands scratched down her back as I felt the pressure in my stomach building up signalling my release. "I'm so close Y/N." I breathed out as she went faster. 
"Me too sweetheart." She grunted as her movements became sloppier with each thrust as she chased both of our highs. "Fuck." She grunted as she unloaded into the condom as I moaned loudly as I came. She slowed down her thrusts to help ride out our highs before she pulled out and went to the bathroom. She came back with a wash clothe to clean me up. I winced at being sensitive which she apologized before she threw the cloth in the hamper before getting in bed beside me. I snuggled up to her with a tired smile as she wrapped her arms around me kissing the top of my head. I loved the feeling of her skin on mine. It made me feel safe. 
Over the next few weeks, the twins invited the two of us over for thanksgiving, they loved Y/N when they first met her which made me extremely happy. Y/N and MK were also inseparable when they were together. They are practically the same person which warms my heart that my sisters love her as much as I do. 
"Mum's coming a little later on. She wants to see Y/N. She's missed her." Ashley told me as we both prepared the ingredients for dinner as we listened to MK and Y/N shout at the tv as the football was on. I chuckled at the bond that she formed with all of my family because it seems that they rather see Y/N than me. 
"I guess no one misses me anymore." I teased her making her shake her head before she stopped to look at me before we both  looked over at the two troublemakers on the sofa. 
"It's just that you seem very happy. Extremely happy and we have never seen you like this other than when you are on stage at your school recitals. But to see that everyday because of that girl over there is the best thing that we can wish for for our baby sister. That's all we want for you. To be happy." She said softly making me smile. She wasn't wrong because she does make me extremely happy. 
"I'm in love with her." I told her shakily as she looked at me with wide eyes as I continued. "Since the day we met, she made me question things. A lot of things about the world but mostly about myself. I always thought that some girls were cute and sexy but from the moment we met I felt this need to be near her as much as I possibly could. I felt alive whenever she just held my hand. Whenever she would hold me the butterflies would go mental and I thought that I would actually take off with the amount of fluttering I felt in my stomach. She just makes everything easier. She makes breathing easier."
"You should tell her." She told me making me chuckle nervously. 
"But what if she doesn't feel the same." I whispered shakily as she just chuckled before she put her arms on my shoulders. 
"That girl is head over heels for you. The way she looks at you is like she would take a bullet for you. There is no doubt that that girl is in love with you too." She reassured me. The rest of thanksgiving went by quickly and it was amazing. Just with how she gets on with them. She made spending time with family so easy which made me extremely happy. We walked together as she had her arm wrapped around my shoulder as she kept me closer to her. The crisp fall air feeling fresh with each breath we took. 
"I have something that I need to get off my chest." She said as we stopped beside the Hudson River. I looked at her worried of what she wanted to say. "It's been eating me up for so long now and I can't hold it in anymore. Lizzie I have been extremely happy since you came into my life when I never knew I needed it. Everyday we have spent together has been hard because I have tried to not fall for you but I failed there because I am so in love with you. I want to be with you for the rest of my life if that's possible. I want to watch you become a famous actress and walk the red carpet with you just to celebrate all of your success. I love you Elizabeth Chase Olsen. I am in love with you." She finished before taking a deep breath. I couldn't help the smile on my face at her revelation before I lunged forward and kissed her deeply. She held me close before resting her forehead on my own. 
"I am in love with you too. Since the moment we met you made me question a lot of things about myself and I managed to fall in love with you." I whispered as I gazed up into her eyes lovingly. "I'm sorry I'm not the best at speeches." I said earning a chuckle before she kissed me again tenderly. 
Over the next couple of years we supported each other with everything that we had done. She pushed me to go for an audition for this movie called Martha Marcy May Marlene. Which I got the lead and we celebrated together. We went a good few rounds in between the sheets and I was honestly amazed by her stamina. She gave me her necklace that she always wore around her neck. It was a silver chain with a St Christopher pendent which she got from her grandpa. I was reluctant to take it until she practically put it my neck herself.
Y/N pov
Lizzie was away filming her movie, becoming the big star that she deserved to be. I was at Dee's with Jack and the gang shooting some hoops with Jack in the driveway while the others were inside drinking and just having a laugh. 
"How's Lizzie doing, becoming a big movie star?" Jack asked as she passed me the ball from underneath the hoop. 
"She's loving it. It's exactly where she was meant to be." I told her with a smile as I thought about my girl. "I got her this bracelet for our third anniversary." I told Jack as I shown her the silver bracelet with the inscription 'We Can Be Late Together' on it. She gave me a confused look asking me to elaborate. "It was the first thing I said to her because we were both late to our first lecture and happened to have the same one." 
"Now if that isn't fate I don't know what is." She smiled at me as I went back to shoot again. We heard a car screeching down the road and before we knew it, shots were being fired. Both Jack and I tried to get out of range before we got hit. 
No One's pov
Jack looked up from the ground where she dived to get away from the spray of bullets. When the car had disappeared Dee came out followed by the guys to see the commotion. Jack tried to get up but felt a pain in her side and pressed her hand there and noticed that she had been shot.
"Someone call 911 now!!" Dee shouted as someone ran inside as Dee spotted Y/N in the driveway in a pool of her own blood. She ran straight to the younger girl laying on the floor unable to move.
"I can't feel my legs." Y/N said as she coughed up some blood. Dee looked at her and noticed that she had multiple bullet wounds. "Why can't I feel my legs?" She said as a tear slipped down her cheek making the older girl let out a sob. Dee didn't know where to put pressure since she is lucky to still be alive right now because she was practically a human pin cushion. 
"It's going to be ok." Dee tried to reassure them both. 
"Y/N!!" Jack shouted trying to get their attention. Dee looked at her and shook her head as Jack started to cry. She wanted to get to her best friend so she crawled to her side. 
"Ambulance is on its way." One of the others said as they stood over the three girls. Everyone stood around and watched as Y/N's life was slipping away with every second that she bled out. 
"See Y/N, it's going to be ok. You're going to be ok." Jack said as she held her side as Y/N gave her a weak smile.
"The bracelet. Can you make sure that Lizzie gets it?" She asked her best friend who had tears streaming down her cheeks. "Tell her I'm sorry I couldn't see her first red carpet." Y/N said weakly as she motioned for her pocket as she couldn't feel anything. Jack reached in and got the bracelet and promised to give it to her. "I feel cold." Y/N whispered as everyone was kneeling beside them as she slipped away as the sirens could be heard in the distance. Jack was rushed to hospital and treated straight away. She lay in her bed and looked at the box that held the bracelet as she also held Y/N's phone in her hand. She needed to tell Lizzie about Y/N. She deserved to know. 
Lizzie's pov
I was sat having a coffee with Sarah in my trailer while we were on break when my phone started to ring. Sarah smirked before she started to tease me about being in love. She was like another older sister that I needed, especially while being away from the one person who helped me through everything. 
"Hey baby." I greeted cheerily as Sarah made smoochy faces. 
"Hey Lizzie." Jack said from the other end sounding like she is in pain.
"Where's Y/N? Is she ok?" I asked her worried as to why Jack has her phone. 
"I uh I don't know how to tell you this but Y/N is gone." She said as she sobbed herself down the phone. I froze as I processed the news that I had just gotten. 
"She can't be. I just spoke to her yesterday." I said as I let the tears fall down my cheeks.
"I am so sorry Lizzie." She whispered as Lizzie could hear the beeping of a hospital monitor.
"Are you in hospital?" I asked her outright.
"Yeah. It all happened so fast. We were playing one v one in Dee's yard and talking about you and then there was this car and then a lot of gunshots. We both tried to get down as fast as we could but it was too late. I got hit in the side and Y/N, she got the worst of it." She said before she started to sob uncontrollably. "I'm so sorry Lizzie." She said as we both bid our goodbyes and Sarah walked up to me and hugged me. 
"Come on. We're getting the next flight out to New York and we can finish the damn movie when you're up to it." She said as she started to gather my things. I needed to tell the twins. This is going to kill MK. She loved her like a sister. They were always together whenever we went around. Fuck there's a lot to do. 
Once we landed in New York, Sarah came with me because she didn't want me to be alone. Ashley met us there and picked us up. She gave me a hug as I just cried into her shoulder. I didn't care if anyone saw because I just lost the love of my life. I know it seems dramatic saying that because I am still young but she was the love of my life. We drove straight to the hospital and we raced to Jack's room. She sat in the bed, she looked broken. Like she didn't want to survive. 
"Hey." I whispered as I knocked on the door as Ashley and Sarah went for some coffee. 
"You came fast." She said with a sad smile. 
"I got the first flight out. I need to see her." I said as I sat in the chair beside her bed. 
"The police have got her. Something about an autopsy not like they need to find a cause of death because we know how she died." She said angrily. "She should still be here." She said as she slammed her hand down on the bed. I held it in my own as my own tears fell. "She wanted to give you this." She said as she gave me a box. I opened and saw a silver bracelet with the inscription 'We Can Be Late Together' I cried even more as I remembered she said that the first day we met. The day that made me question everything. "She also said that she is sorry that she won't be there to see you become this big star and walk the red carpet with you. She was extremely proud of you." She finished as I just cried harder as she squeezed my hand. 
The funeral wasn't easier. It was the hardest thing I ever had to do. MK and Ashley rented out Y/N's favourite bar for her wake so everyone could celebrate her life. The life that was taken too soon. She was taken too soon. She still had her own dream. That was the first time I had met the so called Scar. I was shocked when the Scarlett Johannson walked in the bar. She greeted Y/N's mum and step father. I noticed that T wasn't here which I was happy about. I sat at the bar with two drinks. My own and one for Y/N, her favourite beer. 
"You must be the girlfriend." I heard a raspy voice from beside me. I looked and saw Scarlett in all of her glory. I just gave her a sad smile and nodded before taking some of my drink. She ordered her own and noticed the one I had ordered for Y/N. "So you just want to get drunk." She smirked at me. 
"No that's Y/N's favourite. It's stupid I know." I dismissed quickly. 
"Hey, we all grieve in our own ways. I'm Scarlett by the way." She said as held out her hand for me to shake.
"I'm Lizzie." I said quietly as I looked at my drink before me.
"She told me a lot about you you know. How you wanted to become an actress all on your own without the help of your sisters. She wouldn't stop going on about that off broadway show you done." She said as she spoke about everything that Y/N would talk about. 
PRESENT DAY
Lizzie's pov
I was sat across from the interviewer as they asked when the first time I had officially met Scarlett. Which was years before we actually worked together. 
"So is that why you have that tattoo on your arm?" They asked referring to the tattoo that said 'We Can Be Late Together' and the date that Y/N and I met. 
"Yeah it is." I whispered as I smiled at a picture of Y/N and I from college that they had somehow gotten. 
"It was your husband who sent the picture in. As much as he we all love him, if Y/N was still here would you still be together right now?" They asked me as I gave a small smile as my heart tightened at the thought of her. 
"Yeah, we would be. As much as I love Robbie, Y/N was the love of my life. She came into my life when I needed someone to bring out that confidence I didn't know I had in me." I said as I let a tear slip. "I still cry about her today and what makes me love Robbie more is that he just comforts me. He doesn't care that there was someone who my heart belongs to. He admires the story of our relationship." I smiled as I thought about my wonderful husband. 
"Well it does sound like a true fairytale that ended all too soon." They said sadly as I nodded in agreement. "Did they manage to catch the person responsible?" They asked. 
"Yeah they did. They are serving life in prison now." I said as I hated thinking about the man who was her step brother who took her away from me. "She would have been playing pro basketball since that was her dream. She wanted to be in the WNBA. Her best friend from college plays for the LA Sparks and wears her initials to every game."
"That's sweet of her." They said as we concluded the interview. I went backstage and Robbie instantly wrapped his arms around me. 
"I want to see her." I said softly as he nodded as he led me to the car. We drove to the cemetery where she lay. Robbie remained by the car as I walked with the white lillies that we had bought for her. They were the flowers she always bought me when we were together. She would even have them sent to me on set when we first started filming. I knelt down not caring about the mud and my dress as I swapped the old flowers for the new ones. 
"Hey baby. I know I haven't been here in so long. It's hard to travel from LA to New York everytime I want to talk to you. That's why Robbie had a basketball hoop installed in our driveway with a plaque of your name on it. He is amazing, you would have liked him and his music. He never pushes me to move on from you like the others have. He understands that my heart lies here with you." I started as I wiped my tears away. "I did make it big like you always said and you always walk the carpet with me at every event." I said as I held the St Christopher that she had given me before I left to shoot for my first movie. "I never take them off. It's my way of having you beside me so we can be late together." I said as I cried, unable to stop the tears. "I love you so much. I just hope that you will wait for me." I finished as I kissed the headstone before resting my head on it as I just sat there in silence, remembering all of the good times I had with her and the plans we had. I'm still following through with our plans and dreams for her. 
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burrowbaddie · 2 years ago
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Imagine Joe having sex with you underneath a tree
Cabin Fever
Joe Burrow x Reader
A/N: This was such a good request! I hope you like it! Sorry if it sucks a bit. I did have fun writing it, so that's all that matters! Hehe! Thank you for the request!
The June air is warm, and the sun is high in the sky. You sit on the back porch watching your boyfriend resume his workout. He promised you a nice little weekend getaway in upstate New York. But here he was once again zoned in on his football regimen. You lift your shades and put down the book you had been reading.
"Joesph! This is not a mini vacation if all you've been doing is working out!" You yell out to him. Joe takes his AirPods out.
"Did you say something, babe?" He shouts back. You wave him over. Joe puts down the rope and runs over to you. He's shirtless, covered in sweat, with nothing but shorts on. He leans down to kiss your lips, but you turn your head.
"I'm going to make lunch, and I expect you to take a break and join me. over there for a picnic." You point to the tallest tree on the woods' outskirts, aligning the property. Joe groans.
"We just had breakfast, sweetheart."
"That was 4 hours ago. You've been at this nonsense non-stop. Lunch with me, or I'm leaving."
"Fine. But I need to work on a few throws and then-"
"You have 15 mins." You warn him getting up and walking into the cabin. Joe goes back to the field to finish things up. Meanwhile, you begin making lunch. You prepare some sandwiches and a charcuterie board. You pack everything into the basket and grab drinks before heading back out. Joe is still focused on throwing. You walk across the backyard and lay the blanket down underneath the tree. The tree gives you the perfect shade, and you bask in the coolness. Joe has been working under the sun all afternoon. You had put sunscreen on him earlier, but you could tell he would have a bit of a tan; regardless, you hoped it didn't burn too much.
"Joseph!" You wave him over. Your boyfriend holds up five fingers, and you glare at him through your sunglasses. You stand up, putting your hands on your hips, signaling you are not playing anymore. Joe gives you a cheeky smile and puts the football down. He goes inside for 10 mins and returns with a fresh shirt and shorts. You're guessing he washed up because when he sits next to you no longer smells of sweat, but his usual body wash.
"Looks good. Thank you." He grabs a sandwich, and you smile, feeling victory. But for the next 15 mins, he goes on about losing to KC and how he should've played better. Standing up, you lift your sundress, pulling your underwear off, stopping Joe from talking. Normally you love hearing him rant about football, but today was not the day. He promised you a weekend of you and him, no football. Joe licks the vegan mayo off his lips and watches you sit down. You open the strawberries and start eating them slowly. Joe's blue eyes don't stop watching you as you sit back down. He chuckles and places his sandwich down.
"I'm sorry, baby." He crawls over towards you spreading your legs. You play a foot on his shoulder, stopping him.
"Sorry for what?"
"I'm sorry for not giving my beautiful girlfriend my undivided attention." He says, kissing your ankle.
"I don't know if I forgive you."
"How can I make it up to you?" Joe's eyes darken as you remove your foot and open your legs. When it came to your pussy, Joe never wasted time enjoying what was in front of him. You can barely get a word out before Joe dives right in. Joe starts licking and twirling his tongue around your clit before spreading your folds for a messy make-out session with your cunt. Your dress shielded Joe from your view, so you had to go on feeling and sound as he slurped between your legs like a starved animal. Joe has perfected his technique; it takes less than a min for you to cum on his tongue, and that was before his fingers even entered you. Joe pushes your dress off his head and sits up while slowly adding two fingers into you. Your legs shake, and your eyes shoot open. Joe is staring down at you with a wide grin. He pushes your trembling legs apart and takes his place between them. Joe bends down to kiss you. The kiss starts off slow, and you try your best to concentrate on his lips, but with Joe being three fingers knuckle deep in your pussy you're losing focus. He slaps your thigh and bites your bottom lip to keep you focused on him.
"Joe, wait, please." You beg, but Joe doesn't let up. You reach down to grab his hands, and Joe smiles against your lips.
"Nu-uh. You wanted this remember? You're ovulating this week. You've been walking around with nothing under your negligee, begging for it. Begging for me to stuff you full. I'm going to give it to you. And you're going to take every last drop." Joe whispers the last part in your ear, and you rain down on his hand cumming again. You've been discussing having children for the last two months. Yes, Joe said you guys could try. So yes, you have purposely walked around like a dog in heat this week. Joe took his fingers out of your drenched pussy and licked them, sucking your juices off each digit. His shorts are pulled down, and his cock springs out. You sit on your elbows, watching Joe altogether remove his clothes. He leaves you in your yellow sundress because Joe has this thing where he loves fucking you when you're half-dressed. He bunches the dress up your waist and grins. Joe slaps the tip of his dick on your pussy before rubbing it against your clit.
"Please. Hurry."
"Slow down, baby." He warns you. Joe slowly inches in, making your legs shake. In and out. He buries himself into you to the hilt, only to slowly drag it out.
"Stop teasing." You cry. With that, Joe grabs hold of your hips and fucks into you faster, giving you exactly what you wanted. He fucks you dumb. Your mouth is open, but you can't get a word or sound out because Joe hits your g-spot repeatedly. Your legs start shaking uncontrollably, and Joe rubs your clit with his thumb, praising you.
"That's my girl, baby. That's it." Joe says, pulling out until the tip to watch you squirt. Your body twitches and Joe uses this time to pull your dress off and toss it in the grass. He pulls you up on his lap, letting you ride him. But you're still in a dazy, so he bounces you up and down. Throwing your head back, you moan his name and tell him how good he feels. Joe kisses your neck, telling you how good it feels inside you.
"Mine. All mine. I fucking love it in here. Never letting this go." He groans into your neck.
"Yours. It's all yours, Joey." Tears prick your water line again because he quickly found your spot. You don't know if you can handle another orgasm just yet. Joe releases your hips and sits back on his hands, watching you work yourself on his dick.
"Make me a mommy!"
"Yeah? You-you want me to make you a mommy?" Joe stutters, feeling himself about to bust. You look down at him, slowly circling your hips now. You're in control now, and you want to tease Joe. But your boyfriend isn't having that. He is forcing you on your back with your knees pressed against your ears in one quick motion.
"Not-Not fair." You whine, feeling him deep inside you. Joe continues fucking you in that position until is cumming. You love this feeling, his warm cum slowly leaking out of your pussy. You're filled to the brim with his seed. Joe lets go of your weak legs, watching them drop flat like dead weights. He bends down to kiss your belly while pushing his cum back into you with his fingers.
"Can't waste it." He whispers against your stomach. You shudder, and Joe turns you over, wanting to enter you from behind. With shaky hands and legs, you get onto your hands and knees. Joe is in you again before you can steady yourself. You hold on to the tree for support, making Joe laugh as he holds your hips.
"Slow mm, slow down."
Joe doesn't slow down. He lets go of the grip on your hips to hold onto the tree. Every time your ass connects with his pelvis, your knees buckle. It feels so good but is too much at the same time. You start biting your bottom lip, trying to keep quiet because you are on the verge of screaming. At one point, Joe holds your right leg up, creating an angle that sends your eyesight out of focus.
"Why are you quiet now?" Joe stops everything, and you whimper when he pulls out.
"I don't want to be too loud." You whisper. Joe smacks your ass, causing you to yelp.
"Who is going to hear you? Hmm, the birds? Deer? A bear? I don't think the animals care, sweetheart."
You turn around, giving him a fuck you look. Joe slides back in. This time he slows down. You are able to sit up on your knees, letting him fuck up into you. Joe links your hand with his and holds them against the tree.
"My pretty girl. So fucking pretty." He kisses the back of your neck.
"Say it. Say you're my pretty girl."
"I'm your pretty girl." You cry out, squeezing his hand. Joe lets go of you and tells you to lay on your back. You reposition and open your legs, allowing him back in. This time Joe kisses you senselessly while he fucks you. He whispers over and over how much he loves you. And you start crying. You full-on sob as Joe cums into you. He pulls out and looks at you, confused. You hide your face from the embarrassment of having a random breakdown. But every time Joe confesses his love to you, it hits you right in the heart.
"I love you so much, Joseph." You sniffle. He leans down, letting you cup his face.
"I love you more than my own life. I'm sorry I ruined lunch." He chuckles, kissing your hand. You shake your head. You're full of food, cum, covered in sweat, and smells of Joe; there is nothing that is ruined. Joe stands up and picks you up bridal style.
"I'm sleepy."
"Baby. We just started. I need to get my work out in somewhere. Plus, babies don't make themselves!"
"Joseph, wait!" You squeal as he takes off in a sprint to the cabin.
It isn't until 8 pm that you emerge from the cabin to clean up the picnic. You can barely stand but need to get things cleaned up before the animals come. Lucky for you, the food is untouched and still in the basket. You grab the clothes, blanket, and basket and return to the cabin. Joe is sitting in the living room on facetime with his brother.
"Tell my sister-in-law I said hello!" His brother shouts. Joe holds up the phone, and you wave. Joe hangs up with his brother and meets you in the kitchen.
"How about we go for a swim later."
"My legs can't handle that right now." You giggle, leaning against him. Joe rubs your back and hums. He reaches down in his shorts, clutching the bright blue Tiffany's ring box. Joe knows the idea of marriage scares you. When you first started dating, you told him that marriage was off the table, but you would be open to cohabitation if it led to that. Joe was completely thrown off during that part, and let's say the first date was the last date. That was until you met again at a college party. That was seven years ago. You guys have broken up and gotten back together. So just maybe, things have changed. Joe didn't just want to make you a mother. He wanted you as his wife too. Even if it's only a thing on paper, as you say, Joe wanted that.
"Did you hear me?" You ask, bringing him back to reality.
"Uhh, sorry. What's up?"
"I'm going to be pretty pregnant, right? Do you think I could pull off Rihanna type looks?"
"Of course. You'd be prettier than her."
"Let's not get carried away, Joseph. No one is touching mother." You laugh, walking away. Joe squeezes the box. It's now or never. He gets down on his knee while your back is turned.
"There's this little vegan place in town. Let's have dinner there. Urgh, but it's really hard to find a good vegan place and the reviews kinda suck." You complain closing the fridge. Joe panics and puts the box back in his pocket.
"Why are you on the floor?"
"Just looking at the dust." Joe gets up, laughing. You eye him suspiciously but let him go.
"Let me fix my hair, and then we can go," Joe says, rushing out of the room. You lean against the counter, scrolling Twitter waiting for your boyfriend to return. Joe stuffs the box into a random door and sighs. He's afraid you'll leave him again if he brings up marriage. Maybe it was just better to be with you like this. Joe hopes Tiffany's have a return policy for rings purchased two years ago.
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lividstar · 5 months ago
Text
ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎THE CITY OF LOVE
ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎ Chapter Four: A Pleasant Twist
ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤㅤ‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ < previous | next >
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masterpost
៚ wc: 5k (total: ???)
៚ fluff, angst, fashion designer!hongjoong x model!reader (ft. personal assistant!seonghwa & photographer!wooyoung), strangers to lovers, soulmates au if you squint, do french people actually say bonjour irl?
៚ playlist !
៚ What started as a plan for a quiet walk in the park quickly turned eventful when you bumped into Madame Dupont, who was heading out for groceries. Choosing to assist her instead, two occurrences you didn’t see coming saw the light of the day: A. Running into Seonghwa, and B. Receiving an offer from Madame Dupont to help with your upcoming casting.
a/n: did you guys see san’s fit for the dolce & gabbana fashion show... it had me weak he straight up looked like he came from a dystopian hunger games type beat magical fantasy gods and goddesses 100k wc fic like that’s choi san from district ATE
tags: @beabatiny
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The atmosphere in Hongjoong’s office was a mix of modern chic and creative chaos. The walls, adorned with framed sketches and mood boards, exuded an air of inspiration and meticulous planning. The sleek glass desk was cluttered with fabric swatches, design drafts, and a laptop perpetually open to design software. Large windows let in natural light, illuminating the room and casting a soft glow on the polished wooden floors. Shelves lined with fashion magazines featuring either his designs or Hongjoong himself, awards in varying categories, and an array of art supplies hinted at the relentless creativity that filled the space.
Hongjoong sat behind his desk, his brows furrowed in concentration as he reviewed the latest designs. Seonghwa stood across from him, tablet in hand, listing off upcoming tasks.
“We’re still months away from the fashion week, but it feels dangerously close,” Seonghwa noted, swiping through the digital calendar. “You’re still without your sketchbook, so we need backup designs just in case.”
Hongjoong sighed, running a hand through his hair. He’s been making use of Seonghwa’s digital tablet to work on new designs, but it just doesn’t hit the same as sketching on the rough surface of a paper. Well, Seonghwa has been trying to convince him he only feels that way because drawing digitally is an entirely foreign experience to him, but he swears it’s more than that. You wouldn’t get it, is what he’d usually say. “I know. I’m working on new designs, but it’s hard to compensate for everything I had in that sketchbook. There’s so much detail and inspiration in those lost pages.”
“Well… maybe we should schedule extra brainstorming sessions with the team. It might help to get more input," Seonghwa suggested, his tone pragmatic. There’s only so much a single personal assistant could do, especially regarding important matters they’re short of time on, after all.
Hongjoong leaned back in his chair, tapping a pen against his desk thoughtfully. “Seems like a good plan. We can set up a few sessions next week. Also, I want to review the progress of our new recruits. We need fresh faces ready for the casting call.”
“Oh, speaking of recruits, have you thought about expanding our outreach programs?” Seonghwa continued, making notes on his tablet. “More workshops and seminars could attract new talent to the agency. It’s also a good way to give back to the community.”
“Yes, definitely. And I also want to collaborate with more local designers,” Hongjoong agreed, his voice gaining a note of enthusiasm. There were still a lot of things to sort out, but at least they’re no longer heading forward empty-handed, right? “It’s important to foster community connections and bring in diverse perspectives. We could host a local designer showcase leading up to the fashion week.”
Seonghwa nodded. “That sounds perfect. We should also consider revamping our social media strategy. More behind-the-scenes content, live Q&A sessions, stuff that really engages our audience. 90% of people spend more than half the average day on their phone, anyway, so it would be a good idea to improve our marketing strategies online.”
“Right,” Hongjoong replied, leaning forward and straightening his posture. “I’ve noticed our engagement has been a bit stagnant. Let’s brainstorm some fresh content ideas and maybe even a mini-documentary series about our design process.”
As they were continuing to talk endlessly about gaps they needed to fill in order to ensure the brand’s utmost and consistent success, a thought suddenly resurfaced in Seonghwa’s mind. “Oh, I forgot to tell you yesterday, but she said yes.”
Hongjoong looked puzzled, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Since when did you have a significant other?”
Seonghwa rolled his eyes dramatically, not being able to distinguish whether A. Hongjoong was just trying to push his buttons, or B. His brain development had reversed throughout the night and thus, is now being outright dumb. Knowing him, it was probably the latter. “No, you stupid goon. I’m referring to the girl from Rue de la Paix.”
“Oh, alright. Wait—she said yes?” Hongjoong's eyes widened in surprise.
At that exact moment, Wooyoung entered the room with a dramatic flair. “Whoa, who said yes? Didn’t know you had it in you, Seonghwa,” Wooyoung teased. Just then, an empty folder came flying his way, nearly hitting him right at his face if it weren’t for his reflexes. “Hey, what was that for?”
“That’s for accomplishing the mission of being even more stupid than Hongjoong,” Seonghwa deadpanned, shrugging. “What are you doing here anyway, Wooyoung? I thought you had no activities scheduled for today.”
Wooyoung grinned and flopped onto the couch, stretching out comfortably. “Yeah, but Hongjoong’s office couch is comfortable and I’m experiencing back pain. Needed a place to relax.”
“And who told you you could just do that?”
“...My free will?”
Seonghwa glanced at Hongjoong, who didn’t even need to hear the words come out of his mouth. “No surprises at all. He does this all the time.”
Suddenly, Hongjoong always putting in his best efforts when it comes to avoiding Wooyoung during his work hours was now starting to make sense to Seonghwa. “No wonder you’re so sick of him,” he muttered, shaking his head.
“I can hear both of you very well, you know?” Wooyoung quipped, scrolling through his phone without looking up. “Actually, nevermind. Knowing you two, you’re probably doing that on purpose.”
“Nice theory. Whatever,” Seonghwa dismissed, turning back to Hongjoong. “Anyway, what I meant by her saying yes is that she agreed to attend the casting. She didn’t say it directly, but she called me in the middle of the night to ask for further details. Plus, she replied to my message about wishing her luck and hoping she wouldn’t back out. So, I think it’s safe to assume she’s going to attend.”
Hongjoong’s expression softened with a mix of relief and curiosity. “That’s great news. I’m really curious to see what she brings to the table.”
“Who’ll bring what to the table?” Wooyoung interjected, finally looking up from his phone with genuine interest. “You both seem pretty invested in this person.”
Seonghwa leaned against the desk, crossing his arms. “A girl from Rue de la Paix that I scouted pretty recently. I believe she has great potential.”
Wooyoung raised an eyebrow. “Interesting. If you’re both that excited, she must be something special,” he mused to himself before looking back down on his phone screen.
Hongjoong hummed in agreement before turning his attention back to the topic at hand. He adjusted the sleeves of his tailored blazer and leaned forward, glancing at the tablet Seonghwa held. “So, about the upcoming projects, I think we should focus more on integrating sustainable fabrics,” Hongjoong said, his tone serious and thoughtful. “It’s not just a trend; it’s a necessity for the future of fashion.”
Seonghwa nodded, tapping notes into his tablet. “Got it. We should reach out to more suppliers who specialize in eco-friendly materials. I’ll set up meetings with potential partners next week.”
Hongjoong’s eyes sparkled with inspiration. The endless days of working he always had to go through were indeed tiring, but the creative process throughout it all and everything that came out of it were always worth the progressively lessening hours of sleep on his behalf. “And for the designs, I want to blend traditional craftsmanship with modern aesthetics. Something that tells a story of heritage while being innovative.”
“That’s a great direction,” Seonghwa agreed, looking up from his notes. “We could also highlight these stories in our marketing campaigns. You know, show our audience the journey behind each piece.”
Before Hongjoong could respond, Wooyoung let out a dramatic groan from the couch, rolling his eyes. “Man, hearing you two talk about work stuff when I’m supposed to be taking a break from all that is so annoying.”
Hongjoong shot him a bemused look. “Well, maybe if you wanted to take a break from your ‘work stuff,’ you should’ve considered staying home instead of lounging in a work office where work-related matters are supposed to be discussed.”
Wooyoung rolled his eyes again, sitting up slightly. “Come on, can’t we set things aside and talk about casual stuff for once? It’s been a while since I last got to be in the same space as both of you, and you’re settling on talking about work?”
For a moment, both Seonghwa and Hongjoong processed his words. Then, Seonghwa was the first to chuckle, shaking his head. “Well, that’s a rather unique way to say that you miss hanging out with us.”
Hongjoong’s eyebrows raised in surprise. "Wait, huh? That’s what he meant?”
Wooyoung shrugged, leaning back against the couch. “Well, you can’t blame me when the past few months have been nothing but busy schedules, busy schedules, and even more busy schedules for us. I chose to work under you two because I know we promised we’d stay together after college, but even being in the same workspace isn’t helping us have more time to spend together.”
Hongjoong sighed, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “What’s up with you and being so sentimental?” Quite hypocritical, as he’s been having the same thoughts as Wooyoung lately as well. The only difference between them is that Wooyoung is comfortable with expressing it, but Hongjoong? Well, not really.
Seonghwa looked at Hongjoong and gave a knowing smile. “Don’t lie, Hongjoong. You know you feel the same way as Wooyoung does.”
Hongjoong exhaled, his shoulders relaxing. Seonghwa could always see right through him regardless of if he wanted him to or not, and sometimes, he doesn’t know if he should appreciate it or be terrified. “Alright, fine. I do miss hanging out like we used to. Things have just been so hectic, especially with all the activities scheduled for the following weeks and months.”
Seonghwa nodded, turning to Wooyoung. “Well, seems like you’re right, then. Since you want to talk about ‘casual stuff,’ why not initiate the conversation for us?”
Wooyoung’s eyes brightened. He knew Hongjoong and Seonghwa find him annoying sometimes—well, more often than that, actually—but he never really took it seriously, because he was aware that deep down, they both have a soft spot for him. Unfortunately, for the two older men, Wooyoung has a knack for using that fact to his advantage. “Alright, let’s see... How about we take a stroll around the city later tonight? Just to take our minds off all the stress.”
Seonghwa nodded, his expression thoughtful. “That sounds like a good idea. I actually recommended Hongjoong do the exact same thing all by himself a few days ago, but I figure tagging along with him wouldn’t be so bad.”
Wooyoung beamed. “See, I knew you’d catch my drift.”
Hongjoong was a bit dismissive at first, reminding Seonghwa, “You do know the only person out of the three of us who doesn’t have anything to do today is Wooyoung, right?”
Wooyoung shrugged nonchalantly. “So? I could keep lounging in here until your work hours end.”
Seonghwa chuckled, knowing Wooyoung all too well. He wasn’t one to get bored easily, no, not at all, but in a place such as, like what Hongjoong said, a work office wherein work-related matters are supposed to be discussed, it wouldn’t take longer than a second to tire his energy out. “Are you sure you won’t get bored?"
“No, totally not,” Wooyoung insisted. “I’ve even already experienced staying the night in this office without Hongjoong here, and I didn’t get bored at all. It was, like, super cool. You know those cool rich businessmen in movies who spend the night looking outside the window of their office walls on a chair with a bottle of an alcoholic beverage in hand?”
Hongjoong’s eyes widened in surprise. “I’m sorry, you did what?”
Wooyoung’s, however, darted nervously around the office. “Oh. I mean—”
You sat in your small, dimly lit apartment, staring at the blank walls and feeling the embrace of loneliness attach itself to you. The evening stretched ahead with no plans, no friends to meet, and no familiar faces to call. Seonghwa had been kind, but you barely knew him, and calling him a friend felt a little too early. Financial prudence also demanded caution; with the casting still a few days away and no guarantee of immediate income, you couldn’t afford to be reckless with how much you spend.
Maybe a walk outside could be nice?
You sighed and looked at the closet doors, debating whether it was worth the effort. The allure of fresh air and a change of scenery tugged at you, while the fear of venturing out into an unfamiliar city at night held you back. You thought about the headache from yesterday—how intense and strange it had been. It wasn’t a normal headache, and it lingered in your mind. Perhaps a stroll through the nearby park would help clear your thoughts.
With your decision now entirely made, you rose from your bed and headed to your closet. You chose a soft beige knit sweater, its cozy warmth comforting against the evening chill. Pairing it with a long, black skirt that reached down to your ankles and shoes of the same color as your sweater, you completed the outfit with a light scarf draped casually around your neck. You began fixing your appearance up, and once you were satisfied, you grabbed your bag and left the apartment.
As you reached the ground floor, you spotted Madame Dupont at the entrance, preparing to leave. “Madame Dupont?” you called out, quickening your pace to catch up with her.
She turned, her eyes lighting up when she saw you. “Ah, bonsoir! How are you, dear?” she asked, her voice warm and welcoming.
“I’m well, thank you,” you replied, offering her a smile. “Where are you off to?” Your eyes darted to the streets outside.
“I’m just heading to the grocery store,” she said, adjusting the strap of her handbag. “What about you? Where are you going?”
“I was thinking of taking a walk,” you said, glancing towards the door once more. “But if you don't mind, I could accompany you instead.”
Madame Dupont’s face brightened even more. “Oh, that would be lovely! Are you sure you don’t mind?”
A walk to the park may have been your initial plan, but you still weren’t entirely sure the calm atmosphere of the evening would suffice to outweigh both the thoughts inside your head and your worries about possible dangers. “Not at all,” you assured her. “I’d be happy to help.”
The two of you then began to walk together to the bus stop, engaging in light conversation. “How was your day?” you asked as you waited for the bus to arrive.
Madame Dupont smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “It was quite eventful, actually. This morning, I had to chase Monsieur Frank’s cat out of my garden again. That rascal has a knack for digging up my flowers!”
You laughed softly, imagining the scene. Monsieur Frank’s féline, Pompidou, was indeed a little ball full of mischief. You’ve had your own set of encounters with him, such as waking up to hearing light scratches by your door—which once happened in the middle of the night and nearly made you consider moving back to Arcadia Bay, having him come out of nowhere and pounce on your shoes when you’re walking out the door, and more. You don’t know why his owner decided to name him Pompidou, but you figured it suits his personality very well. “That sounds like quite the adventure. He’s adorable, but has always been quite of a pain to deal with. Did you manage to catch him?”
“Eventually,” she chuckled. “But not before he managed to scatter soil all over my freshly planted tulips. And then, later in the afternoon, I had a lovely visit from my granddaughter. She’s starting university soon, you know. Full of excitement and nerves, that one.”
You smiled, listening intently. Oh, what would you give to experience starting university for the first time again—with nothing but excitement and nerves, just like Madame Dupont’s granddaughter and nothing like yourself. “Really? That’s wonderful. What’s she going to study?”
“Art history,” Madame Dupont replied, pride evident in her voice. “She’s always had a passion for it. Ever since she was a little girl, she’d spend hours drawing and painting. I’m glad she’s pursuing something she loves.”
The bus arrived, and you both boarded, continuing your conversation during the short ride. Madame Dupont shared stories about her granddaughter’s childhood, her love for art, and her hopes for the future. You listened intently, feeling a warm sense of connection growing between you.
When you arrived at the grocery store, you offered to push the cart, an offer Madame Dupont gratefully accepted. Throughout your journey of navigating through the aisles, you reached for items on the higher shelves that she couldn’t reach, earning appreciative smiles and heartfelt thanks from her.
As you placed a jar of jam into the cart, Madame Dupont continued her stories. “You know, dear, I remember when my granddaughter was just four, she painted the most beautiful landscape. We framed it and it still hangs in our living room. Whenever I look at it, it reminds me of her spirit and creativity.”
“That sounds lovely,” you said, smiling at the thought. You wonder if you had moments in your childhood that were similar to hers. But then again, how would you know? “It must be wonderful to have such a talented family member.”
“I can only imagine that is exactly how your family thinks of you,” Madame Dupont mused, turning to you with a heartfelt smile. Confused, all you could do was let out an awkward chuckle. “What do you mean, Madame Dupont?” you asked, unsure what she was implying.
“You’ve only been here for quite a short while, but let me tell you, dear, it’s easy for me to be able to tell you have a genuine soul. You’ve been nothing but kind to me, and I really appreciate it—having one of my tenants accompany me to the grocery store isn’t exactly a common occurrence.” She chuckled, placing her hand on top of yours that remained sat on the cart and rubbed her thumb on the back of it shortly before letting go.
“It’s nothing, Madame Dupont,” you attempted to counter, but she wouldn’t relent. She shook her head in response, finding it amusing how you seem to be struggling to allow yourself to accept her kind words. “Well, whatever you say,” was all she settled with before turning her attention back to her grocery shopping list.
While you and Madame Dupont continued to shop together, she suddenly stopped and turned to you. “Would you mind waiting here for a moment, dear? I need to use the bathroom.”
“Of course, take your time,” you replied with a reassuring smile.
“Thank you,” she said, patting your arm gently before heading towards the restroom. You positioned the grocery cart in a corner to avoid blocking the aisle, then leaned against it and pulled out your phone. Scrolling through social media, you let yourself get absorbed in the digital world. Minutes passed, the hum of the store fading into the background, when you heard a voice that seemed oddly familiar coming from the other end of the aisle.
Curiosity piqued, you turned off your phone and tucked it back into your bag. Leaning forward, you peeked around the corner to see Seonghwa, reaching for an item on the shelf.
“Seonghwa?” you called out, stepping into the aisle.
His head snapped in your direction, and upon recognizing you, he broke into a warm smile. “Hey! What a surprise to see you again so soon,” he said, his voice laced with genuine delight as he pushed his cart towards you. “What are you doing here?”
You smiled, gesturing to the half-full cart beside you. “Just accompanying my landlord with purchasing her groceries.”
“Oh, do you live around here?” Seonghwa tilted his head, half his hair softly falling down to the side he turned to.
“No, my apartment is a quick bus ride from here,” you explained. “What about you, though? What are you doing here?” you asked, this time gesturing to his cart.
“Oh, me?” He pointed to himself, smiling. “My friends and I were planning to spend a few hours at the park, and we figured we could stop by here for a moment to grab some snacks we could eat.”
“What a coincidence. I was thinking of going to the park, too,” you mused, sharing your initial plans for the night.
Seonghwa’s face then lit up. “Really? Why don’t you come and tag along with us? They both work at the agency that’s hosting the casting you’ll be attending, too. It would be nice if you could get to know them beforehand.”
You hesitated, glancing back towards the restroom where Madame Dupont had disappeared. “That sounds lovely, but I promised my landlord I’d help her with the shopping. Maybe another time?”
He nodded, understanding and not pressing the matter. “Sure, another time it is then. So, speaking of, how’s everything going with the casting preparations?”
“It’s been…” quite a challenge, was what you wanted to say. After all, there was some truth to it. Yet still, you didn’t want to show any signs of wavering. “It’s been going well. I’ll definitely be there.”
“Great! I really think you could be our turning point,” he said enthusiastically, his eyes earnest and full of hope.
You laughed, trying to lighten the mood and ease the pressure. “No pressure, right? Or else I might not show up.”
He grinned, playing along. “Okay, okay, no pressure.”
Just then, a voice called out his name from another part of the store. Seonghwa groaned, rubbing his temple with a resigned smile. “That’s my cue. This is why we can’t go anywhere together without causing a scene.”
You chuckled, amused by his predicament. “Having friends like that must be fun.” You wouldn’t know anything about it for sure, but the thought seemed nice. Maybe in the future, you’d also get to experience having your name be shouted in a public grocery store by a close friend of yours. Or, who knows? You could be the one shouting.
“Fun, yes. Embarrassing, absolutely,” he said, rolling his eyes but with a fond smile. “I’d better go. See you at the casting?”
“Definitely. See you,” you said, waving as he walked away. Almost immediately after Seonghwa left, Madame Dupont returned, looking refreshed. “Who was that young man you were talking to?” she asked, seemingly intrigued.
“Oh, just… an acquaintance,” you replied, still feeling quite hesitant over considering Seonghwa as a friend. Hopefully, one day, you’ll feel more comfortable referring to him with such a term. “I’ll tell you all about it later.”
Madame Dupont nodded, smiling warmly. “Alright, dear. Let’s continue, shall we?”
The two of you resumed your shopping, chatting and laughing as you navigated the aisles. You reached for items on the higher shelves, and Madame Dupont shared more stories about her family. Her anecdotes were heartwarming, filled with fond memories and lively descriptions. As you listened, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of warmth and belonging. These simple moments, like helping her shop and hearing her stories, were making you feel more at home in this new city.
Seonghwa pushed his grocery cart around the store, his eyes scanning the aisles as he searched for Hongjoong and Wooyoung. He maneuvered through various sections, weaving past other shoppers and glancing down every row. Finally, after a few minutes of searching, he spotted them and couldn’t help but pause, taken aback by the sight.
Wooyoung was perched inside an empty shopping cart, looking quite pleased with himself, while Hongjoong pushed it with a resigned, tired expression on his face.
“Should’ve known you were only referring to yourself when you said you wanted ‘us’ to have fun,” Hongjoong deadpanned, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he sighed heavily.
Wooyoung scoffed, playfully swatting at Hongjoong’s hand that gripped the handle of the cart. “Pushing a shopping cart can be fun too! You just don’t know how to do it right. Now push faster!”
Seonghwa couldn’t help but chuckle, his amusement evident as he approached them. “Should I be surprised?”
“Yes!” Wooyoung replied instantly, grinning.
“No,” Hongjoong said at the same time, his tone flat.
“What took you so long, anyway? You said you were just going to grab a few snacks before we head to the counter,” Hongjoong asked, his movements with the cart becoming more mindless as he pushed and pulled it back and forth.
“That I was, but I came across her,” Seonghwa said with a shrug. He figured there was no need to specify who he was talking about, as Hongjoong’s eyes widened in recognition.
“The girl from Rue de la Paix?” Hongjoong inquired, just to make sure.
From his seat in the cart, Wooyoung interjected. “For how much longer are you gonna refer to her as the girl from Rue de la Paix? Aren’t you planning on, like, getting her name or something, at least?”
“Not when Seonghwa keeps forgetting to do that,” Hongjoong answered, gesturing toward Seonghwa, who now sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.
“I overheard you saying you got a call from her recently. You have her number, right? You could just ask for her name through a text message. Not unless you want to keep referring to her using such a long nickname,” Wooyoung suggested, shrugging.
Seonghwa nodded, considering the idea. “Yeah, I’ll think about that.”
Hongjoong shifted the conversation back. “So, what was she doing here?”
“She was helping her landlord with grocery shopping,” was what Seonghwa responded.
“Does she live around here?” Hongjoong asked, his curiosity piqued and his hands no longer pushing the cart he held back and forth.
“No, she said her apartment is a quick bus ride from here,” Seonghwa explained. “She was just being helpful.”
Wooyoung, still in the cart, dramatically sighed. “Ah, the noble deeds of the common folk.”
Hongjoong rolled his eyes, flicking the back of Wooyoung’s head. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Ridiculous but lovable,” Wooyoung retorted, grinning widely. “Come on, admit it. You missed having me around.”
Hongjoong groaned. “No, I didn’t,” yes, he did.
Seonghwa chuckled, joining in. “Alright, enough of this. Let’s finish up and get going. Wooyoung, get out of the cart before we get kicked out of here.”
Wooyoung pouted but complied, hopping out of the cart with exaggerated movements. “Fine, but only because I’m hungry.”
After what felt like nearly half an hour of waiting by the side of the streets, a bus finally came into view, and thankfully, nearly all of its seats were vacant. You took the bag of groceries from Madame Dupont’s grasp, motioning for her to get in first. Once you both settled on one of the seats by the middle, you let out a sigh of relief as you leaned your head on the window. Today didn’t go exactly as you planned, but the point of unwinding and getting a breath of fresh air was accomplished anyway, wasn’t it?
“So, about the young man from the grocery store,” Madame Dupont started, making you sit up straight and turn your head to her. “How do you two know each other?”
You then purse your lips in excitement over finally getting to tell Madame Dupont about the casting. “Remember when I asked you for directions to Rue de la Paix for my job search?” you asked, waiting for a nod of confirmation first. Once you received it, you continued speaking. “That’s where I met him. His name is Seonghwa, and he works under an agency of fashion and modeling.”
“That sounds interesting,” Madame Dupont mused, almost to herself. “How did you two meet each other?”
“I wouldn’t say meet,” you said sheepishly, remembering how Seonghwa was quite literally running in full speed towards you. “But he’s seen me before, and said he wanted to approach me back then but couldn’t. The reason he wanted to approach me was, well…”
“Well?” Madame Dupont tilted her head, intrigued. “Don’t leave me hanging, dear,” she joked, making you laugh.
“I may or may not have been casted to become a model.”
There were a few seconds of silence between both of you, and you figured it’s safe to assume Madame Dupont wasn’t speaking because she was trying to process your words. Suddenly, you’re caught by surprise when a wide smile spreads across her face as she gently grabs a hand of yours using both of hers and shakes it in excitement.
“That’s wonderful, dear! Especially since you’ve been doing nothing but search for jobs the moment you stepped foot here,” she beamed, and for a moment, you nearly believed she was more excited for the opportunity than you were. “I’m a hundred percent certain you’ll do very well and get accepted.”
“I wish I could say the same thing, Madame.” You chuckled. “I’m still really nervous, and the casting’s happening on Friday this week.”
“Friday?” Her eyes widened in surprise, and all you could do was nod. “Well, that is very close, indeed. Have you been going through preparations?”
“I have,” you said, smiling. “It still doesn’t feel real to me, though.” You didn’t want to blame yourself for feeling like this, as for a person who’s always been accustomed to staying behind the shadows, suddenly stepping into a career where the main point is to let yourself be seen is indeed a terrifying experience.
“That’s normal. It’s a huge shift, after all,” her voice took on a soft tone, attempting to ease your nerves. “Do you have anything to wear for the casting yet?”
“Oh, about that…” you trailed off, your mind going back in time to recall the photos you took of the designs from the sketchbook. “There’s a few designs I want to base my attire on, but I haven’t gone off on a kickstart about it yet. Preparations have been mostly about my confidence and less about my appearance.”
Madame Dupont smiled, leaning back in her seat. “Is that so? Well why didn’t you tell me sooner? I could help you with that, dear,” she offered.
You felt a bit hesitant. “I’d appreciate that, Madame Dupont. But I don’t wanna take up too much of your time and bother you.”
She waved your concerns off. “Oh, dear, you’ll never be a bother to me. You helped me out today, and I think it’s only right for me to return the favor.”
“Alright, but, how?” You tilted your head, confused about where she was heading to.
Madame Dupont let out a hum, eyes darting all around the bus as she pondered over what to say before fully turning her gaze back to you. “Do you know why I never get bored even when I rarely go outside unless it’s necessary?”
You shook your head. “No, why?”
“Sewing, knitting, and crocheting are some of the things that keep me company,” she explained. Seeing your puzzled expression, she added, “And I’m bringing that up because I was thinking I can return the favor by sewing your outfit for you.”
You hesitated. “Oh, but... I don’t want to turn your hobby into an obligation.” Sure, it seemed like it would be of a huge amount of help to you, but was it really right to accept it?
Seeing your hesitance, she insisted, “I would love to help you. Besides, it’s no trouble at all.” Just as you were about to politely decline, the bus stopped in front of your apartment, and Madame Dupont used it as an opportunity to wave off any further protests. “You have no other choice but to accept my help,” she said firmly.
Eventually, you gave up, letting her have her way. “Alright, Madame Dupont.” You took the groceries and let her get off the bus first, following soon after. As you both walked towards the apartment, you turned to her, “Would you like me to help with unpacking your groceries?”
“No, dear, you’ve done enough for me today,” she said kindly. “You should go get some rest—but not before you send me the image of the attire you want to use as inspiration.”
Nodding, you promised to send the photos once you got back to your apartment. “Thank you so much, Madame Dupont.”
“Don’t mention it, dear,” she replied with a warm smile. “I’m looking forward to seeing what we’ll come up with.”
Back in your apartment, you lay down on your bed, the events of the day replaying in your mind. You took out your phone and scrolled back and forth through the pictures of the designs from the sketchbook, feeling a strange sense of déjà vu. Each design had its own charm, but one particular outfit kept catching your eye. It was the off-shoulder dress with delicate lace detailing that had given you a headache the first time you saw it, but now that you were more... used to the sight of it, it seemed perfect. After some deliberation, you decided that this was the one. You sent the image to Madame Dupont’s contact number with a short message.
This is the one I’d like to use as inspiration. Thank you so much for your help!
As you put your phone down, you muttered to yourself, “Now that that’s out of the way, I should probably go clean up before I head to bed.” You stood up, stretching your arms above your head, and made your way to the bathroom. The warm water from the shower helped to wash away the fatigue of the day, and as you stood under the stream, you felt a sense of relief and anticipation for what was to come.
Meanwhile, at the park, Seonghwa, Hongjoong, and Wooyoung were seated in one of the grassy areas, enjoying the peaceful evening. The sun had returned to its peaceful slumber long ago, and the park was illuminated by soft, ambient lights, creating a serene atmosphere. “So, any updates on your missing sketchbook?” Wooyoung asked, before popping a chocolate chip cookie into his mouth.
Hongjoong’s expression darkened, and he let out a frustrated sigh. “No, and I don’t want to talk about it,” he grumbled. “The universe might as well tell me to quit my career at this point.”
Seonghwa shook his head, refusing to encourage Hongjoong’s behavior. “Oh, come on, don’t be such a pessimist. We’ll find it eventually.”
Hongjoong turned to Seonghwa, his frustration evident. “Seonghwa, take a moment to reflect on the circumstances we’re currently under. How can I not be pessimistic? My entire collection for the autumn fashion week is in that sketchbook, along with years of work.”
Seonghwa nodded, understanding Hongjoong’s point but still trying to lift his spirits. “I get what you’re feeling, but moping around won’t do anything. We need to stay proactive.”
Wooyoung, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke up. “Why’s the sketchbook so important to you anyway? I mean, yeah, that’s a stupid question since it, like you said, has all the designs you’ve made since college and the sketches for the autumn fashion week, but I can’t help but feel like that’s not the only reason. What’s the real deal?”
Hongjoong’s eyes flickered with an emotion he quickly masked. “You’re thinking way too deeply into it,” he deflected, looking away.
Wooyoung shrugged, sensing Hongjoong’s reluctance to delve deeper. “Well, whatever.”
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🪞 — lividstar.
28 notes · View notes
adrealucia · 4 months ago
Text
New Beginnings
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tags: post Blood Brothers ending, Sean Diaz x Reader, might contain smut in future chapters, lots of fluff, romantic fluff, overall just fucking wholesome, obviously mentions Daniel quite often, sfw in the beginning, maybe nsfw in the future idk, definitely slow burn
chapter summary: more business plans, street food, and a fiesta
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Chapter six
The next morning, you wake up with a renewed sense of purpose and excitement. After getting ready and gathering your notes and plans for the garage, you drive back to the Diaz house. The sun shines brightly, a stark contrast to the stormy night from two days ago. The drive feels shorter this time, your mind buzzing with ideas.
When you arrive, Sean is already in the garage, tinkering with a car engine. He looks up and smiles as you approach. “Morning! Ready to get started?”
You return his smile, holding up your notes. “Absolutely. I’ve got some great ideas to discuss.”
Sean nods enthusiastically. “Great! Let’s set up in the kitchen. We can grab some breakfast and go over everything.”
Inside the house, the aroma of fresh coffee fills the air. Daniel is sitting at the kitchen table, munching on a bowl of cereal. He looks up with a grin. “Morning! Ready to make some magic happen?”
You laugh, sitting down across from him. “You bet. I’m excited to get started.”
Sean brings over a pot of coffee and pours you a cup. “So, what’s the plan?”
You spread out your notes, detailing your ideas for improving the garage’s business. “First, I think we should focus on marketing. We need to get the word out more, maybe with some local ads and social media. And I was thinking we could offer a discount for first-time customers to attract more people.”
Sean listens intently, nodding. “That sounds like a solid plan. We’ve mostly relied on word-of-mouth so far, but I think it’s time to step it up.”
Daniel chimes in, “And we could make some flyers and hand them out in town. I can help with that after school.”
You smile at his enthusiasm. “That’s a great idea, Daniel. And I was also thinking we could update the garage’s website, make it more user-friendly and show off some of the work we’ve done.”
Sean grins. “I like it. You’ve clearly put a lot of thought into this.”
You shrug modestly. “I just want to help you guys succeed. Plus, I love a good challenge.”
Sean’s eyes twinkle with admiration. “Well, we’re lucky to have you on board.”
You and Sean spend the morning discussing various ideas and strategies, making detailed plans for the next steps. The atmosphere is filled with a sense of teamwork and shared excitement. Daniel, having finished his breakfast, listens in, occasionally chiming in with his own ideas.
“Maybe we could also host some community events at the garage,” Daniel suggests. “Like a car wash fundraiser or something. It would get people to come by and see the place.”
Sean nods, clearly impressed. “That’s a great idea, Daniel. We could raise some money and get more people familiar with what we do here.”
You add, “We could partner with local businesses for these events too. Maybe get some sponsorships and cross-promotions going. It would help build a network.”
As the morning progresses, you delve deeper into the logistics of your plans. Sean shows you around the garage, pointing out areas that could use improvement. You take notes, brainstorming ways to optimize the space and improve workflow.
“We could create a more inviting waiting area for customers,” you suggest. “Maybe add some comfortable seating, magazines, and free Wi-Fi. Make it a place where people don’t mind waiting.”
Sean nods thoughtfully. “I’ve been meaning to do something about that. It’s a great idea.”
Daniel grins. “And we could have a little corner with snacks and drinks. Everyone loves free snacks.”
You laugh. “Absolutely. It’s all about making the customer experience as pleasant as possible.”
By lunchtime, you’ve covered a lot of ground. Sean looks at you with appreciation. “I’m really impressed with all your ideas. This is going to make a huge difference.”
You feel a warm glow at his words. “I’m glad to be able to help. I really believe in what you’re doing here.”
Sean’s gaze lingers on you for a moment, his eyes full of unspoken thoughts. “I’m starting to believe in it even more now, thanks to you.”
The shared moment is interrupted by Daniel’s stomach growling loudly. He laughs, rubbing his belly. “Okay, I think it’s officially lunchtime. How about we hit up the local street food market? We can grab some tacos there and hand out flyers while we’re at it.”
You nod, grateful for the break. “Sounds perfect. I’ve been wanting to explore more of the town.”
Sean grabs a stack of freshly printed flyers. “Alright, let’s do this.”
The three of you pile into Sean’s old truck and drive to the bustling street food market in the heart of town. The vibrant colors and tantalizing smells greet you as you step out of the truck. Stalls line the streets, offering everything from sizzling tacos to sweet churros.
Sean hands you a stack of flyers. “Here, let’s spread out and see who we can talk to. Meet back at the taco stand in half an hour?”
You nod, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. As you wander through the market, you hand out flyers and strike up conversations with locals, telling them about the garage’s services and the upcoming community events. The warm reception you receive boosts your confidence.
After half an hour, you make your way to the taco stand where Sean and Daniel are already waiting. Sean hands you a taco with a grin. “I got you the special. Trust me, it’s amazing.”
You take a bite and moan with delight. “Oh wow, this is incredible.”
Daniel laughs. “Told you, the street food here is the best.”
As you eat, the three of you chat about the people you met and the responses you got. Sean seems particularly pleased. “I think this is really going to work. People are interested and excited.”
You smile, feeling a sense of accomplishment. “I’m glad. This market is amazing, too. Thanks for bringing me here.”
Sean looks at you, his eyes warm. “Anytime. I’m really glad you’re part of this.”
Daniel nudges Sean playfully. “Yeah, we’re glad to have you around. Plus, it’s fun watching you two flirt.”
You feel your cheeks heat up, and Sean chuckles. “Oh, really? And here I thought we were being subtle.”
You laugh, enjoying the easy camaraderie. “Well, I’m glad to be here too.”
After lunch, you continue to explore the market, taking in the sights and sounds. Sean and Daniel introduce you to some of their favorite vendors, and you pick up a few treats to take home. The bustling market, with its vibrant stalls and lively atmosphere, is infectious, and you find yourself thoroughly enjoying the experience.
"Hey, there's this one store I think you'll love," Sean says, leading the way down a narrow alley. "They sell the most random and quirky stuff."
You follow Sean and Daniel to a small, cluttered shop that's packed to the brim with odd trinkets and peculiar items. The shop owner, an elderly man with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, greets you warmly.
"Welcome! Feel free to browse and have fun," he says, motioning to the chaotic array of items.
Daniel is the first to dive in, picking up a rubber chicken and squeezing it to make it squawk. "This place is amazing! Look at this stuff."
Sean chuckles, picking up a pair of oversized sunglasses and putting them on. "How do I look?"
You laugh, grabbing a feathered hat and placing it on your head. "Very stylish. I think we’ve found our new look."
The three of you spend the next hour rummaging through the store, trying on silly hats, testing out bizarre gadgets, and laughing at the strange and wonderful items you find. Sean finds an old Polaroid camera and starts taking candid pictures of you and Daniel, capturing the playful moments.
"Say cheese!" Sean calls out as he snaps a picture of you holding a giant stuffed banana.
Daniel grins, holding up a fake mustache. "This is the best day ever."
You nod, feeling a sense of camaraderie and joy. "I have to agree. This is so much fun."
Sean hands you one of the Polaroids, a picture of the three of you making funny faces. "A keepsake from our random adventure."
You take the photo, touched by the gesture. "Thanks, Sean. I’ll treasure this."
After purchasing a few of the more amusing items, including the rubber chicken for Daniel and the Polaroid camera for Sean, you leave the shop and continue to explore the market. The rest of the afternoon is filled with lighthearted moments, laughter, and a growing sense of connection between you, Sean, and Daniel.
As the sun begins to set, you head back to the Diaz house, your bags full of quirky treasures and your hearts full of happiness. The day has been perfect, but Sean has one more surprise in store.
After dropping off your bags and freshening up, Sean pulls you aside. “Hey, I was thinking... Daniel can stay home for a few hours, and there’s this little fiesta in town tonight. It’s something we do every weekend—lots of pretty lights, good music, dancing, and drinks. Would you like to go?”
Your heart skips a beat at the thought of spending more time with Sean. “That sounds amazing. I’d love to.”
Sean smiles, looking relieved and excited. He turns to Daniel. “Hey, bud, you okay staying home for a bit? We won’t be gone too long.”
Daniel nods, giving Sean a knowing look. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Just don’t embarrass yourself too much, big brother.”
Sean chuckles, ruffling Daniel’s hair. “Thanks, buddy. We’ll be back before you know it.”
As you and Sean head out, the night air is cool and filled with the sounds of the town winding down for the evening. The streets are lit with twinkling lights, and there’s a buzz of excitement in the air. You feel a sense of anticipation and a bit of nervousness, but also a thrill of adventure.
The fiesta is in full swing by the time you arrive. Colorful lights are strung across the plaza, and the sound of lively music fills the air. People are dancing, laughing, and enjoying the festive atmosphere.
Sean takes your hand, leading you through the crowd. “I hope you like it. It’s one of my favorite parts of living here.”
You squeeze his hand, feeling a rush of warmth. “It’s beautiful, Sean. Thank you for bringing me.”
He leads you to a small bar where he orders drinks. “Two margaritas, please,” he says to the bartender. Turning to you, he adds with a grin, “These are the best in town. You have to try one.”
You take the drink, clinking glasses with him. “To new adventures.”
“To new adventures,” he echoes, his eyes twinkling in the festive lights.
As the evening progresses, the two of you wander around the fiesta, enjoying the music and the vibrant atmosphere. Sean seems to know everyone, stopping to chat and introduce you to his friends. You feel a sense of belonging, like you’re becoming part of this close-knit community.
After a while, the music shifts to a slower, more romantic tune. Sean turns to you, a playful glint in his eye. “Care to dance?”
You laugh, feeling a bit tipsy from the margaritas. “I’d love to.”
He takes your hand and leads you to the dance floor. As you dance, the world around you seems to fade away. It’s just you and Sean, moving in sync to the rhythm of the music. His hand on your back feels warm and steady, and you can’t help but feel a flutter of excitement.
“You’re a pretty good dancer,” you say, looking up at him.
He chuckles. “I have my moments. But you’re making me look even better.”
You roll your eyes playfully. “Oh, please. You’re just saying that.”
He grins, his eyes locking with yours. “No, I mean it. You’re amazing.”
The flirty banter continues, each compliment and playful tease making your heart race a little faster. The chemistry between you is undeniable, and the festive atmosphere only heightens the connection.
As the night goes on, you and Sean enjoy more drinks, each one making you both a bit more tipsy and carefree. Sean starts showing off his dance moves, and you can’t help but laugh at his playful antics.
You remember when Daniel told you about Sean trying to impress someone with his dancing at a party some time ago. “Oh, so are that the moves Daniel told me all about?” 
Sean, slightly unsteady but grinning widely, gives you a mock offended look. “Hey, I’m just having fun. I thought you’d be impressed.”
You join in the fun, playfully adding, “Yeah, Sean, I’m definitely impressed. You’re giving me some serious moves to aspire to.”
The banter continues, and the two of you laugh and dance together, the evening growing more lively and carefree. The combination of drinks and good company makes everything feel even more enjoyable.
By the time the fiesta starts winding down, you realize that you’re quite tipsy and Sean isn’t much better off. You stumble slightly as you make your way back to the Diaz house, leaning on Sean for support.
“Wow, I didn’t realize how much I’d had,” you giggle, leaning into Sean.
He chuckles, his arm around your shoulders for support. “Yeah, I guess we went a bit overboard. But hey, it was a blast.”
When you arrive at the Diaz house, Sean looks at you with a slightly concerned expression. “I don’t think you should drive home tonight. Maybe you can crash on the couch again?”
You nod, feeling a bit wobbly but content. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.”
Sean helps you settle onto the couch, his touch gentle and comforting. “Let me just... find a blanket,” he says, fumbling through the closet.
You watch him with a grin. “Need any help there, or should I just use my jacket?”
Sean looks at you, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “I think I can manage. But thanks for the offer.”
Eventually, Sean manages to get the blankets sorted out, and you settle in. The combination of alcohol and exhaustion starts to take its toll, and soon, you’re all sprawled out on the couch, trying to get some rest. For a moment Sean just sits besides you, making sure you are comfortable and not about to throw up. 
Just as you’re starting to drift off, Daniel, who had been in his room, comes out and sees you all on the couch. “Can’t believe you two are passed out already,” he says with a grin. “Guess it was a pretty wild night.”
You chuckle, feeling a bit self-conscious. “Yeah, we may have had a bit too much fun.”
Daniel teases Sean, “Careful, Sean. If you keep this up, people might start thinking you’re a lightweight.”
Sean playfully nudges Daniel. “Oh, just wait until you’re older. Then you can join us in the ‘lightweight’ club.”
As the three of you laugh and chat quietly, the warmth of the night, the camaraderie, and the effects of the drinks make it hard to stay awake. Eventually, the conversation fades into comfortable silence, and you drift off to sleep on the couch, wrapped in the warmth of friendship and the lingering buzz of a perfect night out.
After a while, Sean and Daniel quietly rise from their spots on the couch. Sean looks down at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. “She’s out cold,” he whispers to Daniel.
Daniel, still half-asleep, nods. “Yeah, looks like it. I’ll head to bed now.”
Sean leads the way to their bedrooms, and Daniel follows. The house is quiet, the only sounds being the faint rustle of your breathing and the occasional creak of the floorboards.
As they enter Sean’s room, Daniel glances at his brother, curiosity evident in his eyes. “So, Sean...”
Sean raises an eyebrow. “What’s up, Danny?”
Daniel hesitates, then asks, “Do you think you and her might, you know, become more than friends?”
Sean chuckles softly, shaking his head. “It’s only been a few weeks. I really like her, but it’s way too soon to think about stuff like that.”
Daniel looks thoughtful. “But you do like her, right?”
“Yeah,” Sean admits, his voice warm. “I do like her. She’s great.”
Daniel ponders this for a moment, then asks, “What if she likes you back? Do you think she might want something more?”
Sean leans back against the wall, considering. “I think she enjoys spending time with me, but we’re both still figuring things out. It’s better to take things slow and see where it goes.”
Daniel nods, accepting his brother’s answer. “I guess that makes sense. You don’t want to rush into anything.”
Sean smiles at Daniel’s thoughtful expression. “Exactly. It’s important to build a solid foundation first.”
Daniel then asks, with a hint of teasing in his voice, “So, what if she’s your girlfriend and I become her little brother?”
Sean laughs, nudging Daniel playfully. “We’d all get along just fine. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
Daniel grins, clearly amused. “Just wanted to know. It’s not every day I see my big brother with someone who makes him smile like that.”
Sean’s expression softens. “I know. And I’m happy she’s here. We’ll see where things go.”
With that, the two brothers bid each other goodnight. Sean heads to his room, while Daniel retreats to his own. The house settles into a quiet stillness, with only the faint hum of the air conditioning and the soft rustle of the breeze outside breaking the silence.
As Sean lies in bed, he thinks about the night’s events and your growing connection. He’s glad to have you in his life, but he knows it’s important to let things develop naturally. He drifts off to sleep, a contented smile on his face, hopeful for what the future might hold.
authors note: this has been one of my favorite chapters to write so far!!! I hope you like this as well <33
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