#i promise to touch on a bit of thirsty thursday before the day ends

[spacemilkies]

ughhhhh s6 jfc !! i beg for anything. headcanon s, imagines os just something about shiros s/o finding out the truth

i did not make it to the cafe yet, but i managed to pull this together. Finishing up some other drafts too, so I should be able to throw somethings out to you all. as always, thanks for sticking with me. im not sure if voltron is popular with most of my followers but its a new obsession of mine so it was the easiest to put together first. 

You would have known. Okay maybe, known is a bit too certain, but you surely would have been suspicious. Ever since he returned just a few months short of his big battle with Zarkon there had always been a sense of absence in his touch. It was like he knew the motions but isn’t practiced in the art of love or affection. His timing was immaculate though, somehow still managing to be there when you needed a hug or simply sharing his presence when you were downtrodden by the empire’s continuous effects on space and beyond. In a way he was still Shiro, just not your Shiro.

You longed to breach the subject with Keith, but it almost felt like ripping the rug out from underneath him. He’d put so much time and effort into bringing your boyfriend, his home. To accuse him of bringing back anything less would tear him apart.

Looking back now, you felt like you should have been more inquisitive, more resistive rather than giving in so easily. But the fault lied more in the lack of certainty. You’d nearly lost his already, probably would have had Keith not kick your ass into gear and dragged you along on his rescue attempts. Part of you felt that you owed it to him to adjust to his new parameters. From his unruly state, long hair in disarray, it was safe to say his second exposure to the galra’s hospitality was no less horrifying than the first. And there are still so many gaps in the first timeline it seemed almost invasive to pry now.

So you gave in. You accepted his touch, melded lips, and adapted to this new Shiro. You supported him as he regained his leadership role and accepted its new application. Still there was that nagging pull at the back of your mind whenever he got short with someone.

The first time with Lance was almost too expectant, the Cuban had a way of diminishing boundaries and pushing limits. But when you had to pull him away from Pidge … the way her glasses seemed to shade to hide back watery eyes. You scolded him, banishing him to the couch in the communal area for that. Ignored how despite the frown, he was more irritated by your intrusion than the consequence.

The infinite black sky of the galaxy never gave a good indication of time, but you knew the hour was cutting shallowly into you accumulated rest when the bed shifted. There were no words spoken as he carefully guided over with a cold touch and drew you close with a warm. His chin was sporting a fine shadow as it nudged against your cheek. His actions cooed for forgiveness even if his lips never prompted the necessary apology. You gave it though, too wrapped up in the reality of his being here to correct it with a crudely put together investigation attempt.

Then Matt showed up, shimmering behind Pidge’s praises. Your friendship with him had filtered in late into the announcement of the Kerberos mission, only gaining a few months of familiarity before they shipped off. But in a way he was positioned as unbiased, his history separate from what they’d all encountered. His view of Shiro was untainted and thus making him the perfect inspector.  You gave them a respectful distance, eyes darting from your boyfriend’s back to the strict professional front that Matt barely seemed to maintain. And then Shiro’s arms were around him, and he melted. Test: passed.

It was hard to not close the case file after that. Lying in bed with him that night, his arms drawing you close and positioning you comfortably beneath him. You stopped analyzing how his hands threaded through yours, hips shaping perfectly to the roundness of your backside as he filled you.

“I love you so much,” he whispered.

That night you’re lost in the galactic sea, Shiro’s call echoing without a source of origin.

Then comes Lotor.

And everything shifted.

Granted he was missing when you all first encountered the prince. But he was Zarkon’s son and Shiro eventually shared the same sentiment with the rest of the crew- until he didn’t. Despite the voice of the majority, Shiro began to be immersed in the idea of connecting the banished prince to throne. Even to the point of achieving a solo mission without the rest of the team’s consensus.

With each new action he seemed to pull away more in more. More content with his own thoughts than the company of others. Perhaps had you been more present you would have caught on to the mysterious headaches sooner.

But now it was too late. He was gone.

Except now, you were learning he was never quite there.

Watching as his bodied way lied out, remaining silent as the team voiced their own suspiciousness and resentment to their own ignorance, even as Allura managed to revive his soul.

You never felt so empty

It was almost ironic to call him- it out before, as you held his hand, returning his warm, exhausted smile with a tight one of your own.

[yoonjinkooked]

Chemistry | JHS (6 (pt 1))

Part 6 - Just Do It

(pls ignore my old URL, i’m too lazy to change it now RIP)

DRABBLE SERIES, TONS OF SHORT LITTLE CHAPTERS.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Pairing: Hoseok / Reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: FWB, university AU, smut

Warnings: blonde Hobi (yes, that’s a dang warning), heaps of dirty talk, public groping, lots of sex discussion, them being responsible adults and getting tested before doing it, cursing, drinking. It ends on a bit of a cliff hanger cause this is just an intro of the smut fest that the next chapter will be Also, IMPORTANT: the ‘Spring Cleaning’ party that I am describing is fictional (that I know of at least) and I BEG OF YOU, please don’t mix your drinks. Just don’t. It won’t end well. Don’t mix drinks, don’t drink and drive, don’t drink what a random person gives you and never ever ever leave sight of your glass. Please. Drink responsibly and stay the f away from it if you are underaged. That also means you need to stay the f away from this story, too 💜

Word Count: 3k

Summary: After a few years of being immune to Jung Hoseok’s charms, you suddenly fall into them, head first. All it takes is one night, too much alcohol and a lot of balls.

A/N: Again, DRINK RESPONSIBLY! The smut fest part 2 is coming super fast (no pun intended). Unedited, so please forgive me, I needed to get this shit out to you and i just need more Hobi. these are drabbles after all lol

“I’m clean,” Hoseok informs you with the widest grin possible. “Got the results emailed this morning. 100% clean and ready.” 

 You don’t register his words at all - first of all, he had startled you, appearing directly in front of your path, probably seeing you from afar, making your way to the study hall where the first class of your day takes place. And on top of that, you are way too shocked with his appearance to even bother understanding the words he was telling you. 

 “You’re… you’re blonde,” you mumble as you stare at his hair, wondering if it’s your mind playing tricks on you. Sunlight makes hair lighter, doesn’t it? It doesn’t make it almost platinum, though. Looking him over, you realize that nothing else has changed - still the same height, still the same weight, still his signature casual but colorful clothing - but the blonde is there and it’s magnetic - it’s impossible to look at anything else before your eyes are glued to his new hairstyle again. It suits him so damn well. If someone had told you he’d look this good blonde, you wouldn’t have believed them. 

 “Oh, yeah,” he waves his hand off, laughing, as if it’s a completely irrelevant thing. Honestly, to him it might be, but not to you. “More importantly, I am clean,” he repeats his earlier words and this time around, you do get to properly register them, as well as the meaning behind them. Clean. Safe to have sex. No worries in that department. You should be overjoyed but not only are you still hypnotized by his sudden change of looks, you’re also refusing to focus on that particular information. 

 It’s weird - you did stuff, discussed even more, agreed on everything. You blushing at him informing you that it’s finally safe for him to fuck you and finish inside you is weird. 

 “You’re blonde,” is all you can say, and it earns you an eye roll from Hoseok. 

 “Oh come on Y/N,” he whines. “If you’re going to be like this just take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

 “Hey!” you snap, smacking him on the shoulder in retaliation, which only makes him laugh. “Have mercy on me here, give me a moment to get used to this new look of yours. If I showed up with a completely different hair color, would you be able to focus on anything else?” you demand, absolutely positive that he’d be equally as lost as you are. 

 “If you telling me that you’re clean and we can finally fuck, yeah, I wouldn’t be focusing on hair, even if it had all the colors of the rainbow in it,” he answers honestly. 

 “Okay, okay, we get it, we’re on the same page - you’re stupidly hot, clean and want to fuck,” you laugh at him, although you would be a fool to deny that it’s getting to you - the way he is so upfront about liking you and being attracted to you is impossible to ignore - it makes you feel a lot more confident than you have felt in a long while. 

 “Oh Y/N, you know me so well,” he acts as if he’s genuinely touched and it’s this reaction that makes you melt and laugh. No matter the hair color, no matter how casual he references his intention to get his dick inside you, it’s Hoseok. And that’s all that matters. “Seriously though, we both have our results so whenever you’re ready, if you’re still up for it…” he doesn’t finish the sentence but the raise of his eyebrow says it all. 

 “I’m not missing out on that piece of ass if that’s what concerns you,” you joke, looking him up and down as you speak. It’ll never cease to amaze you how he can whisper the dirtiest things to you, or even say them casually out loud, but turn as red as a tomato when you do the same thing. “What are you doing tonight, do you have any plans?” you ask. 

 “Aren’t you going to Namjoon’s?” he frowns in confusion. “Spring Cleaning party season?” he reminds you and starts laughing immediately, probably at your look of realization mixed in with disgust. “Is this about Namjoon or about the Spring Cleaning party season?” he laughs. 

 What you guys refer to as spring cleaning is exactly what it sounds like - all the leftover alcohol that somehow managed to survive the past year is gathered in one place in the ‘bring-your-own-booze’ manner. It’s usually a mixture of hideous drinks and half empty bottles and once it’s all gathered, you make it even worse, combining it into borderline poisonous mixtures. Everyone attending and everyone drinking does so on their own responsibility, fully aware of how the night might end. 

 A year ago, it was still fun. Now, you know you’re too old for that shit. 

 “It’s about both,” you answer Hobi’s question in a whine. “I don’t wanna deal with wasted frat boys who’ll spend half the night throwing up and Namjoon is insufferable.” 

 “Namjoon is one of your best friends,” Hobi laughs. 

 “I know - that’s why I’m well aware of how insufferable he is,” you grunt in annoyance. “I know it’s tradition and all but can we skip all of that? Coochie in exchange for avoiding a party we’re too old for anyways?” you suggest. 

 “Wait,” Hoseok’s eyes widen and you can imagine a lightbulb turning on above his head. “You think Namjoon’s insufferable?” 

 “Incredibly so, yes.” 

 “And you want to make his life a living hell in retaliation?” he continues asking. 

 “Absolutely,” you reply in a heartbeat, despite loving Namjoon like he was your family. You adore him but you cannot stand him at times and ever since this little thing with Hoseok had started, he had not stopped teasing you. It’s time for him to suffer. 

 “Hear me out,” Hoseok moves closer to you, as if he is about to share a conspiracy theory that no one except you is allowed to know about. “How about we go to the party and stay there a bit - laugh at the idiots, dance to bad music - just a regular Thursday. And then, when the shitshow starts, and it will start, we go upstairs and seal the deal?” 

 “You want us to fuck in Namjoon’s house?” you start laughing. 

 “Is there anything that would annoy and traumatize him more than knowing two of his closest friends fucked in his house?” he points out. 

 “Yeah, if he walks in,” you burst out laughing. “Honestly, sold. Fuck it.” 

 “I plan to,” he wiggles his eyebrows at you in the most sleazy manner possible - jokingly, of course. He knows he has you hooked and he can play around with it. And you’ll love it. 

 “Ugh, stop doing that,” you laugh, smacking him on the shoulder again. “Don't try too hard, you already have me, blondie.” 

 “I look that good, huh?” he laughs, hitting the bullseye. 

 You don’t answer that question - you offer him nothing more than a smile and a shrug before you slowly walk past him and make your way to a class you’re probably already late for. He knows you enough to realize that to you, yes, he does look that good. And you cannot wait to find out what other things he can do to you, hoping that the movie is as promising as the trailer was. 

  Standing across the room, Hoseok keeps his eyes glued to you, the same way he did from the moment you entered the house. You aren’t hiding from it either - you make direct eye contact with him, smiling in a knowing manner as you listen to whatever it is that Taehyung was yapping on about. You tried to listen - you really did, at first. But the problem is that Hoseok’s very presence demands your attention - it’s something you can’t control. If he’s around, if he’s in the room and if you have this feeling of the two of you alone knowing something, knowing this secret about what’s going to happen tonight - no one else stands a chance, not even your friends.

 “Are you seriously ogling Hoseok while I’m asking you for relationship advice?” Taehyung sounds exasperated and you feel guilty - even more so when you realize that the only reason he did manage to get your attention was because he had mentioned his name. 

 “Ugh, I’m so sorry Tae,” you don’t try to defend yourself, knowing you’re guilty as charged. “My mind is a mess, I’m a useless friend. I just… can’t focus on anything else,” you admit sheepishly, not really wanting to go into details. They know that something is happening and that’s it. You don’t want to share more, neither does Hoseok, nor do you think any of your friends is particularly thirsty for details. Except perhaps Jimin, but tough luck for him. 

 “Then go!” Tae urges you and for a moment, you think that he is angry at you - the urgency with which he said it makes you wonder if he’s pissed with you for not listening to him carefully - but when you look up at him, you see his signature smile. He’s not angry - he’s cheering you on. “Go and get your guy!” 

 You want to  sigh, roll your eyes and remind him that Hoseok is not your guy - but in a weird, fucked up way that only you and him understand, he kind of is. It’s you he’s looking at - not any other girl, and there are plenty. It’s you he’s had his eyes on ever since he first saw you - it’s you he’s waiting for. 

 So you go for it - the same way you did the night it all started. Without thinking twice about it, you approach him, walking through a crowd of people to get to him - his eyes follow you every step of the way, standing straighter as you finally get to him, mere inches separating the two of you. 

 It’s electric. The feeling between the two of you, it’s purely electric, making you wonder if he’d burn to the touch if you were to reach out. In your mind, he always was the epitome of the Sun, so it wouldn’t be no surprise. You notice his smile despite not breaking eye contact - he smiles at you with them too, the signature wrinkles appearing on the edges. 

 “Well, don’t you look lovely tonight,” he tells you, giving you a quick once over. “Black has always suited you.” 

 “Now’s the time when I say something quirky yet charming like, ‘it matches my soul’,” you joke, laughing along with him. “Thank you - I had to dress in my finest, seeing as it’s a special occasion after all.” 

 “Is it?” he laughs. “I thought it was just a Spring Cleaning party.” 

 “Hoseok…” you shoot him a warning glare. 

 “I’m just messing with you,” he laughs, pointing out the obvious. “Can I… kiss you?” 

 This question takes you by surprise - you have decided to be public with whatever the hell this thing is - simply to avoid confusion, especially since you’ve agreed that you won’t be sleeping with other people while this deal of yours is standing. It’s a nice surprise, though - the fact that he still wants to ask, the fact that he is making sure that you are comfortable with it - whether it’s with the kiss itself or it being in public. It warms your heart to know that even though you had never planned any of this with him, he ended up being the right choice. 

 “Hobi, honestly, we’re past the point where you need to ask,” you admit, wanting him to know that you’re not going to back out and that you do feel comfortable. 

 He says nothing, instead deciding to kiss you immediately. It’s slow and gentle, lazy and languid, in a way that shows no rush or urgency. It’s obvious that he is enjoying it, and so are you, every move of his tongue against yours, every breath of yours that mingles with his. To the two of you, the rest of the room no longer exists - the sounds toned out, the people long forgotten. It’s almost as if it’s you and you alone - and the rest of the world doesn’t matter. You move your body closer to his, anchoring your hands around his neck as you press against his front - as you have found out, making out with Hoseok has plenty of merits, and one of the bigger ones is simply the feel of his body against yours. 

 His hands wander, slowly and likely aware of the audience around you - it’s highly unlikely that anyone spared you more than a glance, but despite what it feels like in your mind, you are definitely not alone. So when his fingers graze your ass, he doesn’t grab it firmly like you know he’d like to - he simply rests his hand there, with pressure that promises that there’s more in his mind than a simple touch. You know very well that if the two of you don’t slow down soon, he’ll pop a boner in the middle of Namjoon’s kitchen and even though you’re hardly keeping this a secret, that would likely be a bit too much for him to handle. 

 With your mind heading in that direction, you begrudgingly stop the kiss, but you don’t move too far away from him - your hands still around his neck and his hands still on your ass. For what seems like minutes, neither of you says a word, simply looking at each other, your eyes scanning the face of the other - the way his lips are wet and how he nervously licks at them, the way his cheeks also changed shades (and you know alcohol is not to blame for it) and the glint in his eye that likely mirrors yours, with both of you knowing what’s in the other one’s head. Tonight is the night, the night you will finally seal the deal. 

 And if all goes well, start something that will make you explore things and areas you dared not speak of, much less try them before. All of it, from the sweetest and most romantic to the nastiest, kinkiest shit imaginable - you want to do it all with him and it’ll start tonight. 

 “So...” You start, in what you hope is a sexy voice. “Are we going to go and piss Joon off by fucking in his house?” you ask, making sure that the sexy voice you’re trying to use is also low enough for no one else but him to hear. You take it a step further, pressing your lips to his ear, whispering. “I want to suck you off before I ride you until I can no longer hold myself up. Then, I want you to fuck into me with all that strength you have and fill me up, watch the cum drip out of me and then watch me finger it back inside my cunt.” 

 Pulling away just in time to see him swallow a lump, you move one of your hands from around his neck, down his chest and stomach, very slowly, before grazing it over his already noticeable growing dick - you don’t tease him more than that, knowing that even though you might not feel them, you likely do have eyes on you by now - you simple careers the area where his jeans are starting to stand out, a sign of his eagerness that completely mirrors the way your underwear is sticking to your core. Both of you are horny as all hell and if you don’t act on it soon, you’ll jump his bones right here, right now, on Joon’s kitchen sink. 

 “How ‘bout I use my fingers to push the cum back inside you and when it dribbles out again, I eat you out until you want to scream my name but you can’t, ‘cause you’re sucking on my fingers, licking every drip of cum left on them?” he suggests and you for a second, you think your knees are going to give out and you’ll fall flat. You don’t, likely because he still has his hands pressed to your backside. 

 “Oh, I’d want nothing more,” you shamelessly admit. 

 “Then we’re not doing it here,” he announces, laughing at the immediate sulky reaction it elicited from you. “Don’t be like that, it’s better if we go to my place,” he chuckles at you, gently squeezing your butt. “I want us to enjoy the night, go for as many rounds as our bodies can take and then do it again in the morning. We can’t have that here while some freshman is doing a keg stand and anyone can walk in on us at any second. We can piss Joon off later - but it’s the first time we’re gonna do it and damn it, I wanna do it right.” 

 “You wanna do it right?” your eyebrows rise. 

“I could stand here all night and list all the things that I want to do to you, and you to me, and still remember more on the way home - and we’ve already discussed a bunch. I want to treat you good and give you the best fuck of your life - I promised as much and I want to deliver. We can fuck in Joon’s house any other day, honestly.” 

 “Do you want to… use something tonight?” you ask, pressing your hand against his crotch a little bit harder this time. “I have some toys back at my place but we won’t be alone there.” 

 “Nah,” he shakes his head immediately. “I have my cock, mouth and fingers - I don’t need much else to make you want to never do anyone else. We’ll have plenty of time for all the toys - and when I say all, I mean all. I’d go for anything with you.” 

 “If you keep talking like that, I’m just going to cum right here, right now,” you admit. 

 “While that would be a sight for sore eyes, I have other plans. Let’s go,” he takes you by the hand and away you go, making your way through the crowd, not caring if anyone notices how quickly you’re leaving or how you’re walking hand in hand. 

 You simply don’t give a shit, at all. All you care about is Hoseok right now - his dick, mouth and fingers and all the things he plans to do with them. 

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 3 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Hey darlings. Thanks for coming with us on this journey! (Again, for some of you. We are so grateful for your comments and feedback.) Click here for previous chapters. 💫

Last Chapter: We met Galactica’s senior creative team.

This Chapter: After a near disaster, Violet receives even more good news from Miss Fame.

***

Violet’s heels went clack, clack, clack as she ran down the corridor towards the design department of Galactica, her phone pressed to her ear.

It was Thursday morning, and Violet had once again barely gotten any sleep, and it was beyond unfair that she had to start the day with a shitshow.

One of their newer employees, brought on to help with their spring collection, had not shown up for her run through with Fame and Raja. Their spring collection show at New York Fashion Week was just under two months away, and while it seemed like a long time, it was close enough that Fame had started to get ansty over any and all delays.

The only reason Violet hadn’t been scalped was the fact that Trixie had been there to calm Fame down, Ivy sending her a long look of sympathy as she had practically sprinted out the door.

Violet turned the corner, finally reaching the design department and she grabbed the door, throwing it open with so much force it slammed into the wall.

An avalanche of sound hit her, designers working on prototypes left and right, the chatter of the men and women who worked in Trixie’s team washing over her.

“Where’s Gia?!”

Violet never raised her voice, yelling such an unfamiliar feeling, but it gave her the intended reaction. Everyone paused, sewing machines stopping, the floor falling completely silent.

She could feel the eyes of April on her, Blu sitting by Jovan’s desk. She saw Alexis stand by a dress form, and she felt her stomach clench when she realized that these would be her new coworkers, that she had essentially just kicked the door in to her new place of work, but then, at the back of the room, Gia raised her hand, and Violet zoomed in.

Violet walked through the department, men and women parting for her like she was crossing the Red Sea. Gia was standing with her hand on a clothing rack, Aiden so close to her it was clear the two had been caught up in conversation.

“Do you realize-” Violet hissed, “that you were supposed to be in Fame’s office 10 minutes ago?”

“I’m-” Gia’s eyes widened, all color disappearing from her face. “Isn’t the meeting at-”

“No.” Violet cut her off, not giving Gia any chance to explain. “No it’s not.”

“Shit-” Blu muttered, and Violet knew that she had to look terrifying. She felt terrifying, and powerful, and like she was ready to tear out Gia’s earring.

“Do you know what happens when Fame is disappointed in you?”

It wasn’t often that she took on this role, but as an assistant, as Fame’s assistant, she wasn’t just the gatekeeper of her boss’ office, wasn’t just the one who decided who got Fame’s time and who didn’t, she was also the executioner when someone failed, and Gia had done exactly that.

“Violet-” Gia choked out, the woman looking like she was genuinely about to cry, “I’m so sorry-”

Violet made a ‘zip it’ gesture, effectively shutting Gia up. “Run right now-” Violet pointed at the door, “if you want to have any chance at not getting fired.”

“Do you think she’s going to fire me?!” Gia’s voice went up, her tone nearing hysterics, and while Violet was still furious about what Gia’s misstep would mean for her entire day, she couldn’t help but feel compassion towards the woman who had only made a mistake.

“I don’t know,” Violet sighed, gently touching Gia’s arm. “She’s not happy-” Gia bit her lip, her eyes wide and frightened. “Now run!”

Gia pushed past her, disappearing at lightning speed towards the elevator, the rack behind her rolling so fast Violet could hear the wheels squeak.

The door closed, and after a few seconds the first buzz of a sewing machine pierced through the stunned silence. Before Violet had time to blink, the department was back in full swing, everyone talking as if nothing had happened at all.

Violet felt hot, the perfectly steamed dress she had put on this morning no longer crease-free, and if she was truly lucky her carefully applied eyeliner hadn’t run while she’d taken the stairs two at a time.

Gia’s fuck-up meant that Fame would be behind on her schedule all day and therefore in a terrible mood which Violet would have to deal with, on top of her meeting with HR since the posting for her replacement was finally ready to go online.

Violet looked at the clock on the wall, time ticking by. She did a quick calculation in her head, her lip between her teeth. Gia would have to take the long way around with the rack, and if Violet took a shortcut through marketing, she still had five minutes before she needed to get back to work.

The rest of her morning would most likely be spent being invisible in Fame’s office, her and Ivy standing side by side as they did whatever their bosses needed of them.

Violet felt something cold press against her cheek, and she jumped, a loud, happy laugh surprising her.

She turned towards the sensation, and there, right in front of her, was a blonde woman with a brilliant smile and some of the whitest teeth Violet had ever seen, a bottle of water in hand.

“Here.” The woman held it out, and Violet hadn’t even realized she was thirsty, her body still hot from all the anxiety it had been through.

Violet had gotten better about people yelling at her, but it could still shake her to the core if she was caught on the wrong foot.

“Thank you…” Violet took the bottle, the woman vaguely familiar to her, and then, it clicked. “Oh! You’re, you’re Katya Zama- Zamol-” Violet realized that she had no idea how to actually pronounce the last name she had cursed at every single time she had been made to add it to a guest list. “You’re Trixie’s girlfriend.”

“I am.” Katya nodded, her blue eyes shining with mischief. “Drink.”

Violet quickly did as Katya asked, the cold water beyond delicious.

“Are you feeling okay?”

“I-” Violet paused. She had never been asked that after yelling at someone, most employees at Galactica absolutely preferring to ignore it as best they could when they got chewed out by an assistant who was below them in every other way. “Umh.”

“I’ve been where you are,” Katya leaned against the table. “Believe it or not, but I was Fame’s assistant for about four months once.

Violet didn’t, in fact, believe her. “You’ve worked for Fame?”

Katya was wearing a fuzzy brown skirt and a blue cardigan that Violet was pretty sure had little cloud buttons holding it together. Her blonde hair was collected in a messy bun, the sides decorated with small hair clips of various animals in gold.

“Worst time of my life.” Katya smiled. “I teach first grade now.” She pointed at Violet. “You have a little-”

Shit. Violet had completely forgotten about her eyeliner. She was about to apologize, when Katya clicked open a bag that was sitting on the table. It was a giant glitter hand, the nails all painted red.

“Here.” Katya handed Violet an eyeliner, and while she would never normally take cosmetics from someone who was essentially a stranger, time was ticking away. Katya handed her a mirror too, the back of it a teddy bear in bright blue.

“Thank you.” Violet bit her lip as she freshened up her eyes.

“No problem.” Katya smiled, her white teeth shining. “Just tell Trix I’m waiting for him, and that he better be ready for some serious slushie time.”

***

Violet was, of course, back at her desk by the time Fame’s meeting with Gia ended, giving the designer a glare as she slunk from Fame’s office, then changing her expression instantly once Trixie and Raja stepped through the door, giving them both polite smiles.

“Violet!”

Violet paused. Had Fame seen the stink eye she had thrown in Gia’s direction? While Fame had shown her pleasure with Violet’s work when she had offered her the promotion to design, that didn’t mean that she wasn’t going to blame her for Gia being late and tear her a new one. Violet quickly collected  her things, cursing under her breath as she hurried into Fame’s office.

“Yes, Miss?” Violet asked, notebook in hand, pen out to write down whatever information she hoped would be thrown her way.

“Sit down,” Fame ordered, pointing to the chair opposite her desk, her expression inscrutable, hands folded.

Violet obeyed instantly, a chill running down her spine. Fame looked serious, really serious, and Violet wondered for a moment if the Gia debacle would be enough to pull her transfer off the table. It was only her years as a teenage working professional that kept her face passive, her body shifting into it’s on stage position as she took a deep breath through her nose, masking any worry in her expression.

“Are you aware that Patrick and I own property in Kips Bay?”

Confused by the question, Violet nodded her head slowly. What did that have to do with Gia?

“Yes, has there been some sort of prob-”

“It’s a lovely little building, a restored 20-unit walk-up,” Fame continued like Violet hadn’t spoken at all. “I reserve a portion of the units for Galactica employees whom I consider to be very promising. At reduced rents, of course.”

“Oh.” Were they moving someone in? Fame had never asked her for help with anything like this before, but Violet was sure she could manage a cleaning crew or hiring a builder or finding an interior designer if that was what Fame needed.

She moved her pen towards her paper, when Fame dropped the bomb.

“A one-bedroom unit on the top floor has just become vacant, and I’d like to offer it to you.”

Violet’s eyes widened. Was Fame seriously offering her an apartment?

“The building manager can show you photos and answer any questions you might have. I expect an answer by the end of the day. These apartments don’t remain vacant for long.”

“Yes, Miss, I- of course, I-” Violet wanted to ask about rent, her gut swirling with emotions.

“If you accept, she can arrange the movers for you as well, likely as early as this weekend if you so choose.”

Fame slid a card over the table, the name of the building and a phone number on it, and Violet took it. “I-”

“That’s all.”

Fame’s tone clearly dismissed her, and while Violet had no idea what to do about Fame’s offer, she knew that she had been excused from the office.

She stood up, clutching the card in her hand, the piece of paper feeling like a golden ticket.  Violet raced to her desk, grabbing her phone and dialing the number before the door to Fame’s office had fully closed, Fame watching her with a satisfied smirk on her face.  

***

Pearl was sitting with her computer on her lap, one of her legs up on her desk. Her office had a giant glass panel, but Pearl didn’t mind if her coworkers and employees saw her in positions like this.

She had nothing to hide from them, and Pearl liked that they could see when she was in, even if it wasn’t always in the most flattering positions.

It was part of her management style since she didn’t care how her people got their job done, it just had to be finished on time.

Pearl was making a note, when she heard a quiet clack of heels, the faint scent of lavender hitting her nose.

“Hello Violet.” Pearl looked over her shoulder, and she was exactly right. Fame’s assistant was standing in the door, looking as stunning as ever.

“What are you watching?”

Violet was wearing a tailored knee length silk dress, small embroidered flowers in light purple  sneaking up the skirt. She was holding a thick folder, and Pearl was pretty sure it would contain the show decisions Fame, Raja and Trixie had made earlier in the day.

“Last year’s ready to wear.” Pearl smiled, holding her hand out so Violet could give her the folder. Their fingers touched briefly, the smallest blush of pink dusting itself over Violet’s cheeks. “Order from the big boss herself.”

Fame had called Pearl, a hint of unease in her voice when she had asked her to comb through the back catalog. Pearl hadn’t seen any reason to, what little she had seen on stage design, music choices and modeling profiles not a direct replica of anything they had done before, but as she was going through their footage, she guessed she could see where Fame’s concern came from, their newest collection fitting almost too perfectly in with their company profile.

“Ah.” Violet bit her lip. “It was a good one. Last year I mean. The use of wool really fit the tailoring.”

Pearl loved listening to Violet talk, although if the black-haired girl was blabbering, it was almost certainly related to fashion. She liked how Violet never raised her voice, how you had to concentrate, look at her, actively pay attention if you wanted to catch everything she was saying.

“I still need to watch the rest of this, and resort.” Pearl smirked, hoping she could win Violet over with her charm. It wasn’t the worst task she’d had, to watch the old shows, but it would be a whole lot more fun with Violet by her side. “There’s champagne in the fridge? If you want to join me?”

“Me?” Violet looked surprised for a moment, and Pearl wondered if she had imagined all the times she could have sworn she had caught Violet blushing when their fingers brushed together.

“I-” Violet bit her lip, twisting her wrist to look at her watch.

Pearl was actually worried if she would be rejected, when Violet opened her mouth.

“I actually have to pack.”

Jackpot. No one said no like that unless they were actually interested.

“I’m sure it can wait for 30 minutes. This is work as well.”

“It’s private, not work.”

“You’re moving?” Pearl stood up, walking towards her mini fridge. “Where to?”

“A new apartment.”

Pearl waited for Violet to say more, but when nothing came, she couldn’t keep back a laugh, Violet startling at the sudden sound. It was painfully typical of Violet not to offer up any information in casual conversation, but it was also endearingly hilarious.

“Oh Vivi.” Pearl smiled, taking a bottle. “You’re truly one of a kind.”

“Don't call me Vivi.”

Pearl turned around, and she noticed with deep satisfaction that Violet’s cheeks were the loveliest red.

“Let’s toast to your move.”

“That won’t be necessary-”

“I insist.” Pearl smiled. “Besides, it’d be sad if I drank this bottle alone, and you wouldn’t want me to be sad, would you?”

“I suppose not.” Violet was twisting a strand of her hair, an unsure but happy look in her eyes. It was adorable to see a crack in the normally stoic woman, and Pearl wanted to melt her away. She quickly poured two glasses, handing one to Violet, their fingers touching again.

She knew she was standing unnecessarily close, but she clinked their glasses together, the scent of lavender strong in her nose.

“To new beginnings, Vivi!”

[wordlessbabbling]

Gun Metal and Daisies Chapter 12 pt.2

“The last time we were here, you held a gun to my face.”

Masterlist

Earlier that evening...

Dorothy was exhausted. She'd spent a terribly long day at work with no breaks. She just needed the day to end so she could go home and sleep.

Slowly as she finished the last batch of sweets, she wiped the sweat from her forehead. She grimaced at it, she never usually got so worked up when baking; but today it was all a tiresome experience.

As she unintentionally slammed the cookies down on the counter, it triggered the ringing in her ears that had gone off sporadically throughout the day.

She swayed from side to side as she stared at nothing in particular.

Home. She needed to get home.

Grabbing her keys and coat, she locked up and seemingly drifted out of the bakery.

As time wore on though, lifting her feet became an effort and her moves became sluggish.

She had no energy to run the safe route back home as the idea of a gentle jog made her feel un well.

She needed water. She needed food.

Dorothy was used to a lack of food, she could cope. But she needed water.

A common symptom of tinnitus is low blood pressure. She wouldn't be surprised if that was it.

She was cold. She was thirsty. She was hungry.

Somehow, despite all this cold, she was sweating profusely, panting hard as she tried not to slouch too much.

Dorothy stumbled around the streets of Small Heath until her vision very quickly narrowed and she fell face first into the jagged cobbles.

——

Thomas had his head in his hands, he was rocking slightly in his seat, muttering nonsense to himself.

Thomas didn't panic, he always had everything under control. But this time, he couldn't do anything.

He checked his watch for the first time and realised, much to his surprise that it'd only been ten minutes since he'd found her. It felt like an eternity. He couldn't do anything.

Thomas cursed himself for not noticing these things sooner. She was unnaturally small and frail.

He promised to himself, that if she woke up - no. She had to wake up - that he'd look after her in every way he knew how. He didn't care if she wanted nothing to do with him. He just needed her to be okay.

Dorothy gave Thomas a part of himself that he hadn't seen in a long time. A part where he laughed more and relaxed deeper.

Dorothy saw the lost pieces of him and stubbornly stitched them back together, kissing the wounded parts of him and giving them a name.

He chuckled to himself at the name. Definitely not a very suitable name for big, scary Thomas Shelby.

"What're you laughin' a'"

Thomas bolted up right at the scratchy voice.

She was awake. His Bonny was awake.

Thomas could only stare at her for a moment, she looked confused, scared, even.

"Bubs. Where am I?" Her voice was panicked and croaked painfully.

"We're in the safe house, love. The place we first met, you remember?" Thomas at this point was kneeling up against the bed, his eyes were wide, his hands itching to grab hers. instead, all he could do was fist the blanket, desperately.

"I hate be be a bother, but could I have some water, please?" She smiled sheepishly as if she'd just asked him to bend over backwards.

"Of course, love. Sit tight, I'll just go grab some." He scuttled our, not wanting to be away from her for too long in fear of something happening to her.

Dorothy neglected to mention that she couldn't exactly feel her legs quite yet, so she wasn't going anywhere.

Dorothy observes the room around her. The bed was small and seemed big enough for two of they got real close. The walls were a sea grass green, which complimented the dark oak mantle.

She revelled in the warmth of the fire, something she only felt when sitting near the furnaces.

Her cocoon of warmth was interrupted by one Thomas Shelby storming back in with water.

Thomas, ever so adamant to help her, ignored her arms reaching out to grab the glass. He instead, leant her forward a bit and rearranged the pillows so she was sitting a bit more up right.

He then grabbed her chin, and brought the glass to her lips, and tipped it slightly.

Dorothy sensed that he maybe needed to do this in order to comfort himself that he was helping; so she just let him do it.

The water slid down her throat, her throat scratched at the hydration as it settled in her stomach, she almost immediately felt better.

Thomas wiped his thumb against her chin, discarding the droplets that's missed her mouth.

She only smiled weakly at him.

"How's your shoulder?"

Thomas stares in disbelief at her question. Here she was, limp in a bed, after being found passed out in the streets; and she just asked him how his shoulder was.

It was almost comical.

"I find you passed out in the middle of the streets and you ask me how my shoulder's doing?" Thomas chuckled dryly.

Dorothy only shrugged, "I'm terribly sorry for the inconvenience, I didn't want to scare anyone!" She had a guilty look across her face, She looked at Thomas as though she had committed an unspeakable crime, that not even HE could stand. "Say Bubs, how did I get here?"

"I carried you. Is that a problem? I understand not liking to be touched. Did I offe-?"

Dorothy gasped, "Thomas! Your shoulder! You can't be carrying anything in that state! Especially not heavy things like a person!"

Her statement reminded Thomas of the food that he'd made her, he ignored her accusation and turned to the tray, placing it in her lap, "when did you last eat?" He tried to be as casual as he could, not wanting to arouse suspicion of his actions.

Dorothy paused, "I had a bit of the chocolate batter from one of the Pookie bears!" Dorothy tapped her left fingers on the back of her right hand.

Thomas raised an eyebrow at the motion which she quickly settled, "Bonny, when did you last eat?" His voice a bit stronger, but not enough to frighten her. He saw how she could get frightened easily.

Dorothy's pause was even longer this time. She mumbled something that Thomas couldn't quite hear, "what was that, love?"

"Thursday..."

Thomas' panic only grew, a sick feeling settled in his stomach. "What did you eat on Thursday?"

"Boiled sweets with you..." Dorothy didn't look him in the eye. Terrified that his last ounce of respect had gone down the drain.

She knew that Thomas Shelby could eat three meals a day, and no financial crisis would occur.

Dorothy hoped that she'd have been able to keep this sort of thing under wraps from Bubs just a bit longer. So she could enjoy, if just for the briefest second, having someone close like a friend, who just enjoyed who she was.

With his next words, she knew that the jig was up: "why haven't you eaten since then?”

Thomas didn't honestly expect her next words. Though, when he thought of them, they made a lot more sense than what he was thinking.

He thought that maybe she was insecure. He thought that maybe she was like him and sometimes just forgot to eat.

But instead, he got, "Couldn' affor' it." Her voice was mumbled, but he'd heard it loud and clear. His heart broke slightly.

A single tear, rolled down her face, neither of them moved to wipe it away: her out of pure embarrassment; and him out of shock.

"Of course." Thomas thought. "Of course that was it. Half of Small Heath is practically a homeless shelter."

It just had to be his Bonny caught in the middle, didn't it?

Thomas didn't say anything for another second, Dorothy tensed when she heard him inhale deeply.

"Well go on then. Eat up." Thomas' voice was full of exhaustion and something else she couldn't quite catch.

If she hadn't of been so desperate, she would have refused politely. Instead, she took a slightly shaking hand and picked up the fork.

The shaking Thomas saw. She wasn't just cold. She was starving.

She took a good few mouthfuls until she stopped, feeling rather full and content at the delicious and filling food she'd eaten.

She usually just had bread and lard or potato peel stew, something along those lines.

She only now deemed it okay to look at Thomas, now that she'd felt like the tension had eased. Thomas though, did not look impressed.

"You gonna finish that? It's just one piece." He raised an eyebrow.

Dorothy felt terribly stupid. "Oh my! I didn't offer you any! I'm so sorry, Bubs. I really didn't mean to be so selfish. Here. Take it. I'm full." She pushed the tray in his direction, terrified of making a wrong move.

Thomas grew even more concerned. She never acted like this around him. She was acting like every other person in Small Heath. Scared to offend. Skittish.

Thomas hated it.

"Now don't go acting like all those other people back in that shit hole. What happened to Bonny, eh? You weren't scared of me before, and you have no reason to be now." His words hurt to say. She was scared, and he hated himself for it.

Thankfully, her shoulders relaxed and she smiled gratefully at the reassurance. She hated how she left things off with Thomas on

Thursday, she was scared he wouldn't want to see her again.

"Now are you gonna eat the rest of that or not?" Thomas leaned forward.

"Oh! No thank you. I'm quite full actually, it was lovely though!"

This, Thomas deemed, was not good enough. She was gonna eat the whole of that bread, weather he had to spoon feed her or something equally embarrassing - for her.

"Now C'mon. It's only one slice, you can finish that." Thomas pushed a bit more.

"I'm really full, Bubs. You don-."

"Bonny. Eat. Now." Thomas' voice was stern, far more than he would have liked. He didn't want to be like that with her.

Dorothy bowed her head a bit and picked up the fork again, eating in minuscule bites.

She looked up at the room again and smiled slightly; "the last time we were here, you held a gun to my face."

Thomas chuckled at the memory, "aren't I glad I didn't follow through with that... nearly shot ya. Thought you were a copper."

Dorothy decided that she didn't care for Thomas' business, and when he was with her, it appeared he wasn't too interested in talking about his business either.

It truly was their little escape.

She put down the fork again, trying her best to be subtle, but like most things, it didn't escape Thomas.

Definitely not now, not anymore.

"Do I need to help you, or are you gonna help yourself?" His tone sounded alike to that of a scolding mother that made Dorothy slightly curl in on herself. It was endearing. But she was full.

"Bubs, I seriously can't eat anymore. I'll just feel sick."

But Thomas was not having it. Instead he sighed and moved to sit on the edge of the bed, he put the tray on his lap. Dorothy thought he was going to take it away.

"You remember last Saturday, at the bakery that evening. You made an extra batch of your dark chocolate sweets?" He didn't give her time to answer, only cutting up the toast into smaller pieces, "you remember how I said I'd eat some if you ate some with me? Well how about we try that? Hmm?" His voice was soft. It dragged Dorothy in like a draft from under the door.

She contemplated it for a minute before nodding slightly, "this is not gonna end well."

Thomas put a piece in his mouth before taking another bit and bringing it towards Dorothy's holding his and under the fork so it wouldn't fall onto the bed, should the food decide to be stubborn.

He smiled satisfactorily when she bit it off the fork. This continued on for a few more minutes until the toast was finished.

If she was being honest, Dorothy felt sick to her stomach. But the small, proud smile on her Bubs face, made it all worth it.

He handed her the tea cup and she drank it slowly, trying to hold down what she could.

She definitely ate too much.

Thomas stayed perched where he was on the edge of the bed. Dorothy moved over a bit so he could get more room.

There was no conversation, the only sounds in the room was the crackling of the fire. Thomas enjoyed the comfort, feeling rather proud of himself that he helped her a bit. Dorothy stayed silent for fear that when she opened her mouth, her stomach would purge whatever was sitting there.

The moment continued for another minute, until Dorothy very abruptly asked, "where's the water closet?"

"Down the hall, first left. You need any help?" He lifted up a bit, reaching out his hand to help her up. Instead of grabbing his hand, she bolted out of the bed and ran to the bathroom.

"A girl thing..." Thomas thought to himself. He remembered when he was younger and Ada still lived with them, that she'd get up every night without fail, rushing for the bathroom.

Thomas settles back down until he heard retching coming from the bathroom.

He immediately sprang into action, rushing down the corridor, his first thought was intruder, but when he peeked around the slightly ajar bathroom door, he saw Dorothy, spewing her guts out.

Thomas' heart wrenched at the sight.

He didn't really know how to comfort her so he did what he saw Polly do to his mum when she came home off her face and vomiting on the floor: he held her hair back, brushing the strands off her face and rubbing her back slowly.

Thomas for a second time, felt guilty. He shouldn't have made her eat so much.

All he could do was whisper sweet nothings and apologies into her ears until she finally calmed down.

She sat back and Thomas reached up to pull the flusher, of course after checking that she was definitely finished.

He leaned against the wall, still rubbing her back as she leaned into him. Her shoulder digging into his chest, but he didn't mind, as she rested her head on his shoulder, facing away from him.

"I'm sorry, Bonny. I shouldn't have made you eat so much. I forgot that's not how stomachs work..." he chuckled softly.

She could only breathe out a laugh, wiping her chin from any muck that sat there.

Unfortunately for her, she slightly missed the toilet bowl and got a bit of it down her front.

Groaning slightly at the burning feeling in her throat.

"I hate to be a bother, but could I have some water, please?" Thomas only let out a small laugh at her words from earlier.

"C'mon. Let's get you back to bed, then you can drink to your hearts content." He smiled bashfully at her.

"You know I don't drink, Bubs." She mumbled, slightly dazed.

Thomas shook his head. He could never forget. He could never allow himself to forget a single thing about her, for fear of losing her.

He gently placed his hands under her arms to help lift her up with him, he turned her around,  his eyes scanning her dress that didn't look too great anymore, "I think there is some clothes around here in the drawers of the bedroom. I reckon Pol moved some of me shit in here. Complainin' 'bout this place feeling like home." Thomas shook his head.

This time, he grabbed her hand, leading her back to the bedroom, she walked with him, willingly, her eyes slightly glossy after the last few minutes.

Though the events of that night were worrying and full of panic. They could both agree that it was nice, and it was pleasant. That's all it needed to be, when they were together.

——

Thanks for the love.

Feedback and comments are wanted.

See ya next time!

[sad-sweet-cowboah]

My Little Secret part 4

I tried to edit something on the original post and when it saved, it deleted all of the text! So I have to repost. Also, Tumblr won’t let me tag anything with “trigger warning” in it without raising red flags so please pay attention to the warning below!

Summary: You run in with Arthur again, though you face some trouble later. What happens next?

Warnings: This chapter contains some content that may be troubling or triggering for some, such as attempted assault of the sexual kind! Reader discretion is advised.

Thursday was an easy day for you; reserved for studying during the day before bartending at night. It’d been two days since the ghost hunt at Shady Belle, and you’d pushed most of the strange encounter out of your mind in favor for your academics. You’d successfully gotten through the majority of the day working on papers and brushing up on older material, compensating for your reluctance earlier in the week.

Still, though, something about what happened wrapped around your subconscious like tendrils. You couldn’t exactly shake it, or figure out why.

As day turned into evening, you got ready for your shift at the bar before leaving. With it being a Thursday, it was a decent crowd, though nothing compared to the weekends. A diverse mixture of all ages drinking and swaying with the music overhead.

An hour passed into your shift and you’d immersed yourself entirely in a conversation with one of the tipsy patrons, a man in his 50’s, a regular who always tipped you extra if you wore a low-cut shirt, which you happened to wear today. You were used to his glazed eyes wandering down to your cleavage, as well as a few lame pick-up lines that you always humored, but politely turned down at the end of the night.

“Yer so gorgeous,” the man complimented with a toothy grin. “I keep tellin ya, I’d treat you right if you were mine.”

You giggled slightly, giving him a polite smile as you poured him another drink. “I treat myself just fine, Tom.”

“Ah, wouldn’t hurt to try, would it?” He chuckled with a wink.

You silently handed him his next drink and swept your gaze over the bar in search of new customers. Your eyes landed on a new but familiar figure, surprise washing over you despite the small some of excitement that accompanied it.

“Arthur!” You greeted him.

His eyes met yours, and a small smile crossed his lips. “Evenin’, Y/N. Nice to see ya again.”

“You too,” you responded, and then quirked an eyebrow. “Ya know, for someone who doesn’t drink, you seem to like being in bars a lot.”

Arthur chuckled slightly. “Well, maybe I just like the company.”

Your cheeks burned slightly, though unsure of it was a compliment toward you, or if he meant the bar in general. Either way, you were glad the dim lights masked the color on your face.

“By the way, that man ain’t botherin’ you?” Arthur continued, tilting his head toward Tom just a few stools down.

“Oh, him?” You waved it off with a laugh. “He’s harmless. He likes to flirt, but he gives me good tips.”

Arthur hummed in response. “You ain’t uncomfortable with that?”

You shrugged. “Not at all, if showing off the goods a little means a little more pocket money, I’m fine with that.”

Arthur chuckled once without humor, though you could detect a small frown on those full lips. You were curious as to why. “So, uh, are you gonna order another drink to…smell?” You asked.

The subject change caused him to laugh again. “Nah, just here to relax. Nice change of scenery after spendin’ the last few nights in Saint Denis.”

“So you like being out in the country? Or just small university towns?”

He shrugged. “More or less. I prefer to be out west, though.”

“Is that where you’re from originally?” You asked.

“I spent a lot of my early life out there, so in a way.” He answered with a small smile.

That did explain a little more about himself. While working here and going to school, you met many people from everywhere within the United States. Most people from out west were either wannabe cowboys or hipsters, at least the ones that stood out to you. Arthur somehow seemed a little different, though you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

Peculiar he was, especially from your first interaction with him. Though each encounter has become more pleasant, and you learned a little more about him each time.

You chatted with him for another moment before being pulled away with the arrival of more alcohol-thirsty patrons. Setting yourself back into drink making mode, a half hour had passed before you had a moment to breathe. By then you’d also noticed Arthur had left the bar, though unsure if he were elsewhere in the crowd or not.

The rest of the night continued smoothly, thankfully finishing your duties before clocking out at 12:30. As you left the building, you could hear some stragglers driving away or attempting to catch rides home.

The parking lot was fairly empty aside from a couple of cars sporadically parked here and there. As your stepped onto the asphalt, a chill ran down your spine, producing a shiver that nearly rattled your teeth. Why? It wasn’t cold out, though something felt…off. As if something was lurking within the shadows.

You shook your head, scolding yourself mentally. The Shady Belle experience had spooked you, but there was no reason for you to feel scared now. You’ve crossed this parking lot a hundred times.

“Silly.” You murmured to yourself as you started toward your car, though with a slightly hurried pace in your step.

Within a few feet of your car, you heard footsteps come up from the side. You blinked and spun around to come face to face with a drunken Tom, who awkwardly stumbled up to you.

“H-heeey, sweetheart.” Tom slurred, the smell of the whiskey still strong on his breath.

“Hi Tom,” you greeted warily. “Are you lost?”

“Naaah,” he hiccupped once, stepping even closer to you. “Listen…I wanna t-take you home with me.”

You stiffened, gripping your keys tighter. “Tom, I’ve told you before. No.” You responded politely yet firmly, hoping he’d understand in his inebriated state. “Get home safe.”

“I’m not going anywhere…without you.” He persisted, reaching out to brush his fingers along your arm.

You stepped back from his touch, turning yourself slightly away, though your keys were held in between your fingers. “Tom, you’re drunk. Please go home.” You feigned concern in your voice, though you held the unyielding wariness.

The hope that he’d laugh it off and walk away quickly diminished when his expression changed. Anger clear on his face as his hands, quick, had a vice grip on your upper arms. His body leaned against yours, sandwiching you between him and another car. Your gasp was audible, hopefully enough to catch someone’s attention.

“Tom!” You exclaimed, trying to wiggle free from him. He was surprisingly strong. “Let go of me!”

“I-I’m tired of playing these games with you, Y/N,” he growled. “I w-want you.”

Before you could respond, he forced his mouth to yours, forcing your lips open to invade. The alcohol on his tongue almost made you gag, and with quick thinking, you bit down on him.

A flash of hot copper exploded in your mouth, and Tom yelped and stepped back. Spitting the blood out, you didn’t hesitate to turn and race for your car. Though before you could even make it another few feet, strong hands yanked you back.

“You little…bitch!” You heard Tom snarl, ripping you back to him. You stumbled, struggling to keep your balance. Your scream was cut off when his palm slapped over your lips, and his arm wrapped tightly around you. “Yer comin’ home with me, right now!”

Your cries were muffled, scared out of your mind, you tried kicking at his shins. Your heels made contact, though with too little force to cause any real harm.

“I’m gonna punish you, little girl.” His whisper a hiss in your ear. Fear shot through you, your heart racing loud in your ears. You continuously tried to escape his grip but to no avail. You tried to force your lips open just a smidge to bite on his finger, yet his hold on your face was ridiculously strong.

You began to feel him drag you away, and you planted your feet to stand your ground. But this man was much stronger and heavier than you were, this rendering your effort fruitless. Your mind raced in panic, trying to think of anything else.

Why hasn’t anyone seen you yet?

Sharp pain entered the side of your head as a heavy blow. Your vision left immediately, engulfing you in darkness.

—-

The ground was rough, damp against your cheek. The sound of muffled struggle seemed to originate from above you. Shoes scuffling against the asphalt. Gasping and grunting.

Your eyes opened, your vision slowly coming to focus. You were on the parking lot still, laying awkwardly in a space between two cars.

Metal clattering caught your attention. You sat up and immediately regretted it as the pain in your head throbbed. You groaned and held your head, turning toward the sound.

A pocket knife lay just a few feet away, the silver blade shining in the moonlight. Further was Tom, pinned against one of the cars by…

Arthur?

You blinked in surprise. Where did he come from?

“L-Let go of me, asshole!” Tom coughed, his voice raspy. It only took you a second to see Arthur’s gloved hand wrapped around his neck.

“What possesses you to lay a hand on a woman like that?” Arthur growled. “What kinda man are you?”

Tom didn’t answer, only struggled to get free. Managing to get one hand free, his hand balled into a fist and swing out- only to be caught swiftly by Arthur. You heard a distinct crunch- and Tom let out a choked howl in pain. Your eyes widened.

Arthur leaned closer, almost as if he were about to caress him with his lips. His voice was low, though still loud enough to hear: “I catch you doin’ that again, I promise I’ll do a lot worse.” He then stepped back, releasing Tom as the older man crumpled to the ground, cradling his now broken hand.

Arthur’s attention then turned to you, his blue eyes bright and the anger still plain in his face. Your breath hitched; you’d never seen a man look so dangerous, nearly animalistic.

He approached you, and you automatically leaned back. Fear was still flowing like fire through your veins. He blinked, then paused, holding his hand out to you. “Come on, Y/N.”

Hesitantly, you reached out and took it. His skin felt cold underneath the worn leather of his fingerless glove. He pulled you to your feet with ease, though the rush caused you to sway. The throbbing on the side of your head worsened, the pain itself almost making you feel sick to your stomach.

Arthur steadied you, murmuring to you, “Where’s your car?”

Without speaking, you pointed to it, just a few parking spaces away. You didn’t realize how much you trembled until the keys jingled in your hand.

He plucked the keys from you and prompted you to walk forward. You did so, taking deep breaths as you kept your eyes forward, ignoring the whimpering and cursing of that vile man. Arthur’s hand rested on the small of your back, though very light to the touch.

He opened the passenger side door, hushing the protest that barely passed your lips. He helped you in before sliding in on the other side.

The movement of the car was almost dizzying. You closed your eyes, willing the spinning to go away. Your stomach churned uncomfortably, though it had been a while since you’d eaten. As the adrenaline wore off, your body felt drained.

“Where do you live?”

Keeping your eyes closed, you mumbled your answer. The pain began to dull, though the fatigue began to spread. With the gentle motion of the car, the hum of the engine and the cool air on your face. You didn’t realize you’d fallen asleep when his voice gently roused you. You blinked awake to see your apartment complex.

He helped you inside, guiding you toward your door. You shuffled through the dimly lit hallway, staring at the numbers until you found yours. He even unlocked the door and pushed it open, gesturing for you to walk in. You did so, stepping across the threshold into your apartment, the darkness waiting to engulf you. An overpowering feeling of helplessness racked you from head to toe.

The fear still remained.

An idea sprung in your mind. You turned around to face him. “Hey, can you stay with me?”

Arthur gave you a quizzical look.

“I just…don’t want to be alone,” you said sheepishly, tilting your head down in slight shame. You were a grown woman, afraid of something that couldn’t hurt you. But after that event, you needed at least some company. You didn’t want to bother your friends, knowing it was too late to even message them. “At least for a little bit.”

“You hardly even know me.” Arthur responded, though his voice was soft.

“I know,” you sighed. “It sounds silly, but- I’m scared still. I just need some company for my peace of mind. Doesn’t have to be the whole night, at least until I can fall asleep. If it doesn’t inconvenience you.” You met his gaze again, staring directly into those bright eyes.

Arthur let out a sigh, rubbing his slicked back sandy locks. “Sure, I’ll stay.”

You let out a breath of relief. “Thank you. Please, come in.” You stepped back and get around for the switch, flooding your living room with a bright light.

He stepped in after you, the black leather jacket and dark jeans stood stark against your white walls. He certainly looked out of place in your quaint little apartment. You weren’t sure what to do at this point, your mind fogging any greater rational thought. Your insides felt hollow, your mouth still had a faint tinge of blood lingering. The pain that radiated from your temple had lessened greatly, yet still remained as a dull ache that pulsed every once in a while.

Arthur stared at you expectantly, though gave no notion to urge you in any direction from here. His eyes instead grazed you up and down. “You may wanna clean yourself up.”

You blinked and looked down at yourself, the apparent stinging in your arms had become more prominent. Bloodied scrapes, bits of gravel and asphalt dirtied your skin. You pursed your lips, thankful Arthur came when he did. There was no telling what further damage could have been done. “Yeah…just, chill on the couch. I’ll take a shower.”

He nodded silently, feeling his gaze on you as you headed down the hall and closed yourself in the bathroom. Switching both the light and fan on, you finally got a good look of yourself.

Your hair was messy, the neat ponytail was half pulled loose with strands sticking out here and there. The light makeup you put on was smudged, lip gloss smeared all over your lips and chin, along with a small blood stain. A fresh scrape took the majority of your cheek, most likely where you’d landed on the asphalt.  There was a slight swelling on your temple as well.

You recoiled at the sight, tears filling your eyes as you turned toward the shower. It could have been worse, you thought to yourself. Repeating the mantra as you unclothed and turned the water on. Within seconds it was hot, and you entered its comforting embrace.

You focused on cleaning yourself, slowly and tenderly scrubbing the filth away. The water and soap stung your wounds; though it was a reminder that you were safe now. The greater part of your mind still needed that convincing.

Taking longer than normal, you wrapped yourself in a towel and headed over to the bedroom, only glancing down the hall to see what Arthur was up to. You hadn’t seen him, though the footsteps indicated he didn’t leave yet.

You dressed yourself in a camisole and pajama pants, the fabric soft and soothing against your skin. As you ran a comb through your hair, your thoughts began to wander again.

I’m gonna punish you, little girl.

Your stomach lurched painfully, the memory causing you to double over. You could still smell his breath, the vice grip he had on you, the way his voice overpowered you-

A knock on your door snapped you back to reality. “Y/N? You decent? May I come in?” Arthur’s muffled voice sounded from the other side.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, you responded, “Y-yeah.”

He opened the door slowly, his eyes darting to your hunched figure. He frowned, stepping closer to you. “Somethin’ wrong?” he asked.

“I…I just…” you huffed, trying to compose your thoughts. “Just trying to keep myself calm…”

Arthur nodded silently, sitting on the edge of your bed and he held something up to you: a steaming mug of tea. You gave him a look of confusion, and he replied, “I just made it. Help calm the nerves.”

Before you could say anything, he pressed the mug into your hands. Your fingers wrapped around the warm ceramic, and you peered into the liquid. It had a pungent, herby scent with a tinge of sweet, along with something else you couldn’t detect. Tea was something you’d get every once in a while before big tests and projects, though you weren’t sure if there had been any left over.

You took a small sip, the taste was unlike anything else. The bitterness of earthy leaves was slightly dulled by a tinge of sweet and tangy flavoring. The hot liquid hit your empty stomach, and almost immediately you began to feel more relaxed. The heat was soothing like the shower was. “Thanks.” You murmured, sipping some more.

He nodded in response. “What are ya gonna do?” he asked quietly.

You gave him a small frown of confusion. “What do you mean?”

“About ‘im,” Arthur clarified. “That asshole.”

“Oh.” You swallowed uncomfortably, drumming your fingers on the mug. “I…I’m not sure.”

“He’s a regular at that club, right?” When you nodded, Arthur continued. “Then tell your boss he ain’t welcome there anymore.”

It would be the right thing to do. But your boss would go the extra mile, trying to get the police involved. Word would get out what happened, and you’d be seen as a victim to feel sorry for. You pursed your lips in thought.

Arthur sensed your hesitation. “I know it ain’t the easiest thing to do, Y/N. Men like him ain’t worth keeping your mouth shut about. You gotta keep yourself safe.”

He was right. You nodded silently in agreement, knowing it would be an uncomfortable topic to bring up again. You took another drink, each sip seemingly calming you down more and more. “I’ll talk to my boss tomorrow night. And take the day off.”

“Good, you need a personal day.” Arthur patted your shoulder.

Somehow his touch was soothing as well. God, what else would have happened if Arthur didn’t show up when he did? Quickly, you diverted those thoughts away. You were home and safe, albeit a little injured. You sighed slightly and turned to look at him fully, seeing the content emotion in his face. “Thank you, Arthur. Thank you so much.”

He gave you a small smile. “You’re welcome, darlin’.”

Though you didn’t mind the sudden nickname, the way his voice rumbled was…something else. Placing the mug down, you reached out and hugged him tightly. He flinched a little in response, though relaxed after a moment and lightly patted your back.

He was cold, how was he so cold? You slightly breathed in the scent of his jacket, he smelled like rain and nature with a tiny hint of gasoline. It was evident he was a man that spent a lot of time outside, and he smelled good.

You pulled away before the embrace became a little too long, and a large yawn escaped your mouth. The tea definitely had done its job to calm you, picking it up to finish off the rest. The warmth spread through your insides, allowing a serene feeling to overcome you.

“I’ll let you sleep.” Arthur murmured, standing up and stepping away from your bed.

The last dregs of fear had been washed away, your mind able to relax now. You nodded and scooted back, sliding yourself under the covers. As your head rested against the cool pillow, your eyelids felt heavy. “Thanks again, Arthur,” you said through another yawn. “You’re such a great guy…”

The last thing you saw was his lips forming into a half smile.

[smileyjaeminies]

Prologue

Synopsis: Mad and broken hearted, you hastily write your name, joining a club you know nothing about. Meeting the boys who run it, your whole life seems to change.

Word Count: 4k

Genre: slow burn, angst, fluff

Warnings: none

Member: 00z, ft. Yangyang

A/N: This work has been a long time coming... I am so excited to finally be sharing it with you. This is going to be a rollercoaster, I can promise you that. I hope you can stick with me through it! Let’s goo and enjoy~

You can find the link to the series masterlist here

   You were on your way back home from your dancing lesson, on a cloudy Thursday afternoon. As you walked the all too familiar neighborhood, your mind drifted away and you were daydreaming. Your thoughts run fast and you didn’t want them to stop.

    Aloof as you were, the buzzing of your phone in your back pocket snapped you back from your reverie. The bright screen of your phone stared back at you as the familiar nickname shone against your lockscreen. You didn’t give the message a second thought, placing your phone back in your pocket and opting to read and reply to his message later.

     Your boyfriend however seemed to have other plans, spamming your phone. You were only a few blocks away from your house so you paused to shoot him a quick text to call him in a bit.

     You opened the messaging app and your heart stopped when you read his messages.

Kyle

Hey

We need to talk

I don’t think this is working out, we should stop seeing each other.

Sorry

It’s not you, it’s me.

Really.

   You stood on the sidewalk staring back at your phone feeling like a complete idiot. Of course Kyle wanted to end things. He was way out of your league anyway. What made you even think that he would even have true feelings for you?

   Then again, a text, A TEXT. Fuck Kyle. Fuck him and fuck you too for thinking you or your relationship would be anything more than a joke to him.

   You would not cry. You would not go on crying for a boy that just showed you how stupid he was. You would be the bigger person.

YOU

I don’t get it. I don’t. But fine. Have it your way. I hope you find someone who makes you happy.

   You sent the text without a second thought. Realizing you were still standing on the sidewalk in front of a stranger’s house, your body sparked into action before your mind did. Your feet found the way down the familiar path while your mind felt too numb to work.

   After arriving safely in the confines of your home, everything became blurry. It took a few seconds for you to register that you were crying silently. The steps to your bedroom seemed endless. You found yourself lying on your bed, staring at the clear white ceiling as if it held the answers to your questions.

   Your mind was still; your heart numb. The quiet buzzing of your phone next to you on the bed wasn’t enough to snap you back into reality.

   Your mom made an attempt to lure you downstairs for dinner but you declined, keeping your voice low. It seemed that the quiet helped keep your sanity.

   The sky burst with colour, saying goodbye to the sun for a few hours. The moon took its leading place in the sky racing to chase it around, never fast enough to catch him.

   You were thirsty. Making your way downstairs you welcomed the stillness of  your house, your parents off to bed. The clock on the oven announced the ungodly hour of 2:38am. You went back to your room, lying inside the covers, not even bothering to change.

   You opened your phone, opening the messaging app and writing only a few words that would prove to be enough.

YOU

He ended things. It was a rough afternoon. Meet me before school tomorrow.

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

   You woke up the next morning feeling like absolute shit. Your head throbbed like a hundred smiths were hammering on it ruthlessly. Your throat ached, your eyes were puffy.

   You tried to avoid your mom’s eye during your quick breakfast. She only half-knew about Kyle and you weren’t ready to explain yet. You dressed sloppily, getting ready for school. On your way there, you blasted music on your headphones, in an attempt to silence your thoughts.

   Before the school gates stood your best friend. She looked ready to slit some throats, you could feel frustration radiating off of her. Carefully folding your headphones, you turned to put them in your backpack.

   “Y/N”! She screamed upon seeing you.

   She rushed to you and the smile that spread on your face was a genuine one. Wrapped up in her arms you felt safe. You were not alone anymore. She was here and you were going to be together for most of the day.

   You were going to be okay.

   “You don’t have to say anything. The text was enough.” she whispered in your ear.

   She understood. It was going to be okay.

   “Elena” you started, breaking the hug and looking your best friend in the eyes. “Thank you”.

   She beamed at you. Grabbing your hand, she went on rambling about how her favorite band were probably preparing their next album and how she was STRESSED. You welcomed the distraction, nodding at her words to show you were listening.

   You stood next to her as she grabbed some things from her locker. Your eyes skimmed the notice board on the opposite wall. All the clubs were written there, the school teams and news.

   A plain piece of paper stood out to you. It was white, with bright red letters. You left Elena’s side and walked closer.

“Don’t need your love club”

   Five slots, all scribbled with hasty handwriting followed, and a small PS at the end.

   “Fuck your ex. Fuck your love life. Meeting Mondays 5pm”.

   “Don’t need your love club? I don’t think I’ve ever heard that before”, Elena said, now by your side.

   Fuck your ex indeed. Without much thought you turn to Elena.

   “I need a pen”

   “You’re joining? Why?’” she asked.

   It was true that besides dancing, you never showed much interest in clubs. You didn’t even know if you were going to follow up with it. But writing your name on that paper amidst your frustration felt good.

   You wrote your name and turned to face your best friend. You found her looking away from you, in an almost panicked state.

   “Y/N. Don’t look. Don’t look, but he is coming over” Elena whispered.

   “A small victory, followed by a large defeat” you thought.

   You stare at the wall, trying to find something interesting to look at. You couldn’t help but feel betrayed by the way your heart raced, fighting to break through your ribcage and into his hands.

   “Y/N…” he started and you felt a sob shake your body.

   “What do you want?” Elena asked for you.

   “Can I talk to Y/N alone for a second?” he asked, turning to her.

   “What would you have to say? You said plenty yesterday.” Elena answered.

   “I just want to explain. If you just let me…” he said reaching for your shoulder.

   You flinched away from his touch, finally turning to face him. He looked fine. It bothered you so much that he looked at you with those innocent eyes of his, looking at you the way he would look at you before. As if he hadn’t just broken up with you through text.

   He was startled by your reaction. Quickly composing himself, he tried again.

   “Y/N…”

   “No. Stop. I have nothing to say to you.” You told him proud of your steady voice.

   “I can explain. Please.” He said.

   What was he pleading about? He started all this. He should reap what he sowed.

   You moved your backpack further up on your shoulder.

   “I. Have. Nothing. To. Say. To. You.” You said emphasizing each word. “Now, I have to go to class”.

   You pushed his shoulder in your attempt to get away from him. You feared he would try to grab you, turn you to face him again, try to explain. He didn’t.

   You couldn’t decide whether you preferred it that way or not. Trying to breathe, you walked towards your classroom. Elena was next to you in no time. She was talking to you, but you couldn’t hear.

   Blocking everything out, you let the day pass past you without paying it any mind. Your mind couldn’t focus for more than a few seconds at a time and it left you disoriented and dizzy. You vaguely remembered Elena being there for most of your classes as you sat in your chair wondering what your teachers were talking about.

   Returning home that night, you turned off your phone, leaving it to lie upon your desk, next to your laptop. You needed some time off the grid. Snuggled deep inside your covers, watching re-runs of FRIENDS and reading, your heart finally began to feel a bit lighter.

   Your mind was calm and your heart (mostly) in peace by the time you picked up your phone again. Opening it, messages started pouring in, from Elena, other friends and even your dance instructor.

   You smiled seeing all those people reaching out and trying to help. You felt bad about blocking them out, but you also knew you needed it. You went through your messages, replying to everyone before setting your alarm for the next day and falling asleep.

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

  Mondays were always the worst. You started your day content, getting from class to class and keeping notes. As your lunch hour approached with you and Elena barely making it through a Physics quiz, you couldn’t wait for the day to be over and done with.

  Sitting down next to your friends, you felt a tiny bit better. You were still tired and you couldn’t wait for the day to be over. You were taking small bites at your chicken sandwich, when you felt a slight tap on your shoulder and a voice calling your name. Turning around you were met with Renjun.

  “Renjun, oh my God hi!” you said, getting up and giving him a hug.

  You couldn’t really say you and Renjun went way back. He was one of those people you could just be casual friends with. You shared a couple of classes, you talked on and off but that was about it.

  “I’m sorry for bothering you while you’re eating, I couldn’t find you the rest of the day” he apologized.

  “It’s no problem, come sit down. Hey Iz, scoot over a bit” you said as you both sat down. “So, what’s up?”

  “It’s nothing big, I just wanted to ask you something” he said.

  You thought it was super weird that Renjun had something to ask you. He was almost a genius, getting the best grades in almost every class. What help could you be to him? You didn’t voice any of this however, seeing that his expression was serious.

  “Shoot away. I hope I can help!” you answered.

  “You signed up for the Don’t Need Your Love Club? Why?” he asked.

  You were taken aback by his question to say the least. So it wasn’t about classes or homework. That’s why he came to you. Trying to compose yourself, you replied.

  “I- I did, but how would you know?”

  “I’m a member too. See it’s kind of a running joke between me and my friends… Not really a club. We just wanted an excuse to stay at school and see each other so that’s all we came up with.” He said.

  “Oh, am I ruining your party? I don’t want to be a burden or anything-” you were saying but he cut you off.

  “No, no, nothing like that. I just thought you and Kyle-” he started, but looking at your expression, he cut his sentence short.

  “I’m sorry for bringing it up, I didn’t know…” he trailed off.

  “It’s okay. I mean, it’s not right now, but I’m going to be fine. To be totally honest with you, I don’t really know why I signed up to the club. I was kind of pissed at Kyle for breaking off things with me. It felt good writing my name on that piece of paper. Sorry, I don’t even know why I’m telling you all this.” You told him, smiling apologetically.

  “It’s fine, I get it. Maybe you should come after all. It’ll do you good. Kind of like an AA meeting” he said, giving a laugh.

  You shot him an incredulous look “We’re underage!” you screeched.

  “I said almost!” he replied, both of you laughing it off.

  He gave you a small hug, before getting up.

  “5pm. Meet me outside the computer room on the second floor.” He told you walking away.

  “I’ll be there!” you answered.

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

  Time seemed to slow in an unforgiving pace after your meeting with Renjun in the cafeteria. The clock on the wall of your classrooms mocked you as you watched the minute clock chase the hour hand around.

  You didn’t really know Renjun’s group of friends. You were almost certain Jeno, one of the basketball team’s stars, was his friend. You had also seen him hang around with Donghyuck, a semi familiar classmate of yours. Renjun wasn’t popular, but he was extremely kind and friendly, so seeing him walking around with someone wouldn’t really be a clue… Would it?

  What got you feeling anxious was a group photo Renjun had uploaded on his Instagram. It showed five boys, all people you recognized from around school, without really knowing them. The photo showed the boys in different poses and you could tell they were having a blast.

  What if these were the friends Renjun talked about? What if they were mean or rude to you? What if they just didn’t like you and forced you out of the club?

  You knew you were reading too much into it, but you really couldn’t help being nervous. You tried to calm down and focus back to what your teacher was saying in front of you but you seemed unable to bring your mind to rest. Finally, with a promise to meet next week with a new topic, your teacher let you go just as the bell rang.

  You took your time as you gathered your things. Walking in the hallways, there was the usual hustle and bustle of students dropping things off or picking things up from their lockers, looking for their friends or speaking with one another.

  Unlocking your locker, you left most of your things inside, almost emptying your bag. You hated carrying stuff around when you didn’t have to so you just made a mental note to come by before leaving.

  “So, ready to go?” Elena said behind you, making you jump.

  “Jesus girl you almost gave me a heart attack!” you scolded her, giving her a playful shove.

  “Can’t help it if you’re always on edge! Relaaaax!” she dragged out.

  “I am walking in unknown territory here you know” you stated matter-of-factly.

  “How so?” she asked.

  You turned to her, giving her a pointed look. She realized she had forgotten something, so she got to thinking. Elena tended to be forgetful about things in the most adorable way possible, making you unable to get mad at her. You gave her some time until she got it.

  “You have the thing with Renjun!” she said, proud of herself.

  “Ding ding ding!” you told her sarcastically.

  “Oh, I’m pretty sure that cute guy is gonna be there too!” she said.

  “What cute guy?” you asked.

  “Oh, you know which one, the guy who just transferred here! You don’t? Oh he is CUTE I’m telling you. He has a weird name though, can’t remember” She said.

  “I’ll take your word for it!” you replied.

  After bidding Elena a quick goodbye, you walked up to the second floor looking for the computer room Renjun had mentioned. After finding it you looked around for him, but he was nowhere to be seen.

  Checking the time, you realized you were still a few minutes early so you did your best to keep yourself entertained until Renjun showed up.

  You were just about to beat your high score to the game you were playing when you heard the sound of footsteps rushing towards you. Renjun threw you a huge smile upon seeing you and you returned it.

  “I almost forgot I had to pick you up! C’mon, the others are already there!” Renjun said, excited.

  Renjun clasped your hand in his and dragged you through the hallways. You were running, feet echoing on the empty halls, but your laughter was even louder. You begged Renjun to slow down but he just laughed and urged you on even more.

  Renjun finally managed to slow down before the auditorium doors.

  “We have the whole auditorium for ourselves? How many people are there?” you asked, trying to catch your breath before walking in.

  “Five, now six I guess. We wanted to bid you a warm welcome so Yangyang and I skipped class to prepare something for you.” Renjun announced.

  “Renjun, you shouldn’t have! I hate being in the spotlight, what am I going to do?” you told him.

  “It’s a silly thing, I’m just being dramatic. Don’t worry! I’ll be next to you the whole time, I promise. Besides, we’re all friends here, and the guys are waiting to meet you!” he said.

  With the mention of “the guys” your heart dropped. You really didn’t know what you should expect to find behind those doors. You tried your best to calm your heart and silence your mind.

  “The second you leave me alone, you’re dead Huang Renjun” you told him, attempting to give him a scary look.

  Renjun reacted immediately, saluting to you and then bursting in laughter. He grabbed your hand again and you couldn’t help thinking how soft his hands were, while yours were sweaty and almost shaking.

  You walked through the doors together, and you were met with a huge banner, painted in red and black reading ‘KYLE YOU SUCK’. Three boys were standing in front of you, smiling wildly, party poppers at hand. You tried to cover your ears but Renjun’s hold on your hand was firm, so you just turned and buried your face in his arms.

  “WELCOME TO THE CLUB” the boys shouted behind you.

  “You okay?” Renjun asked in a low voice.

  “I’m going to kill you” you whispered back at him.

  Renjun only beamed back at you and lead you to his friends. Introductions were in order so you quickly found out that the transfer student’s name that Elena talked to you about was Yangyang. Of course, Jeno was there, offering you his signature eye smile. Lastly, there was Jaemin, your school’s official heartthrob.

  You recognized them all from Renjun’s Instagram, but you didn’t mention it, politely smiling at all of them, even hugging Jaemin. You were just about to note that someone was missing when Yangyang spoke up.

  “Hey, have any of you talked to Hyuck today? He wasn’t in any of the classes we share.” He asked the other boys.

  “He said he would show up eventually… Don’t worry about it, he’s going to be here.” Jeno responded.

  “Why don’t we sit down? There’s no reason for us to be standing.” Jaemin offered.

  You all went to fetch chairs and placed them wherever you wanted, but keeping close to each other. Renjun waited for you to place your chair somewhere and came to sit right next to you.

  As it was expected from good friends, the conversation quickly shifted to trivial matters. You found out that you and Yangyang shared the same passion for dancing, although you had to admit that his burned a little brighter. Jeno, Renjun and Jaemin talked about classes and projects you had no idea about. It didn’t feel awkward, it didn’t feel forced and you found yourself enjoying the company of the boys more than you thought you would.

 You and Yangyang were watching a video of one of his competitions when the auditorium door burst open and someone walked in. Donghyuck walked in and the reaction from the boys was instant. Renjun left your side to greet his friend. He led him towards you and tried introducing you.

  “Y/N, this is-” he started, but he was cut off by Donghyuck.

  “We’ve met” Donghyuck flatly stated.

  “Oh” Renjun said. “Well finally, another familiar face for you, Y/N!”

  You wanted to shake your head, to tell Renjun that what he said was so far from the truth. You forced a smile to your face and looked at Donghyuck.

  Donghyuck disliked you since the first day he met you. You had shared classes in the past and in every single one he avoided you as much as he could. When he felt especially feisty, he would make sure to comment on anything you did or said that day. He had found a brilliant way to push your buttons and he seemed to enjoy it like nothing else.

  The group’s dynamic changed with the arrival of Donghyuck, all turning to hear where he had been all day. You couldn’t help but feel like you were intruding, but as Renjun took his seat next to you again, you knew you couldn’t slip way.

 Donghyuck leisurely took his seat opposite from you, shooting you a pointed look. How could you describe it? It was an intense stare, like he was staring right through you and into your mind, reading your every thought. He looked away first, turning to Jeno and recounted the events of the day.

  You dropped your head, opting to look down at your phone and try to block out the conversation. You scrolled mindlessly through Instagram when you heard Renjun’s voice quietly whisper in your ear.

  “You want to get out? I can walk you home.”

  “I do actually… There’s this assignment I have to turn in tomorrow.” You whispered back.

  Renjun only nodded back at you. When Donghyuck finished telling his day’s adventures, he immediately spoke up.

  “Okay you guys go on if you want, Y/N and I are going to head home.”

  “So soon?” Yangyang turned to you.

  “Yeah, sorry everyone, there’s this assignment I have to work on” you said.

  “Well if it’s about school work there’s not much we can do” Jeno said, hugging you good-bye.

  “Oh yes, God forbid goody-two-shoes Y/N turns in something late, the world is going to fall apart” Donghyuck said.

  Taking a deep breath you decided to brush him off. Having said your good-byes, you and Renjun left the auditorium. You stopped by at your locker, taking the things you needed and started the short walk home.

  This would be the time you would take out your headphones, play some music and allow it to wash over you. You loved listening to music while you walked, feeling the steady rhythm of your feet on the pavement and the bass of the music leading you on and on.

  However, you had to admit that walking back with Renjun was just as enjoyable. You talked effortlessly as you walked close together, your hands brushing at your every move. Somehow, without you noticing, Renjun was holding your hand again. You smiled looking down at your entwined hands.

  Arriving at your house you turned and hugged Renjun.

  “Thank you for today. You were right, I did need this. Thank you for the banner too it was… Rewarding?” you said, unsure at your choice of words.

  You felt the giggle rush through him in the hug. As you both broke away, he graced you while a wide smile.

  “I’m glad it helped. Really.” He said.

  “I know you are.” You said.

  He was about to say something, you could see it in his eyes. He chose not to though, only turning you around and softly pushing you towards the door.

  “The assignment isn’t going to write itself! Off you go ‘goody-two-shoes’”

  There was a tone of endearment in the way Renjun used the nickname, a tone that made your heart feel a certain sort of way. You didn’t let him see it though, only walked to your house. When you got to your front door, you turned around and weren’t surprised to see him standing in the same spot. You stuck your tongue out at him and he laughed, head falling back and eyes closing.

  It was a beautiful sight, you decided. As an artist yourself, you loved beautiful things and so you’d have to put Renjun’s heartfelt laugh on that list.

  And that wasn’t a bad thing at all.

[khadij-al-kubra]

A Round of One-Shot-Shot-Shot-Shot-Shot-Shots

(Part of the Bar & Grill AU)

Pairing: Roman/Patton

Characters: Roman, Patton, Logan, Virgil, Thomas, Joan, Talyn, Terrence, Valerie, Calypso, (and a bunch of O.C’s.)

Summary: A collection of scenes from the view of Sanders’ Bar & Grill regulars and employees. a.k.a. Place your bets on your favorite clueless love struck bartenders. a.k.a. JUST KISS ALREADY!

Author’s Note:

Hey friends! I promise that a new chapter is on its way, but for now, here’s a little one shot intermission for you. If you’d like to be in the tag list for future chapters in the Bar & Grill AU or other works by me, let me know. And as always feel free to leave a comment in the messages or reply if you have any notes or constructive critiques. I’m always open to writing advice. Enjoy!

<--PREVIOUS

(POV- Sean & Nellie)

“Here are your drinks you two,” said Roman, handing the two regular customers their usual orders.

“Thanks man,” said Nellie, taking a sip from their whisky on the rocks.

“Thanks Roman,” said Sean, taking his mojito. “My throat is seriously so dry from the slam tonight.”

Every Thursday night the vegan café around the block held a bi-weekly open mic/poetry slam. And every Thursday night the two spoken word poets went out for drinks afterwards at Sanders’ Bar & Grill. It was a chill and affordable place that suited their poor as penny behinds perfectly. Plus, they loooved watching the slow burn drama between the two bartenders.

“You two spit some good poems tonight?” Roman asked. “I’m sure you both blew the audience away.”

“Let me put it this way,” Sean paused to take a sip of his drink then smacked his lips. “There were bars for days.”

“Oh my god,” Nellie groaned at their teammate, dreadlocks jangling as they shook their head.

“Good one kiddo!” Patton said passing them by from behind the bar.

“Well, let me know if you young wordsmiths need anything else.” Roman winked and left them to get back to work.

“Oh you know I will,” Sean said in a low voice.

Nellie lightly smacked his shoulder. “Down boy, I know you’re a thirsty bitch but settle for your drink.”

“Bitch, you have no right to talk!” Sean gave a grin that reached his too sharp cheekbones.

It was no secret that the Pilipino boy found the bartender attractive as all hell. Not that Nellie could blame him; the man was all kinds of fine! Yet neither of them made a move because of his obvious feelings for Patton and vice versa.

“So what’s the bet tonight Sean?” Nellie took a drink and chewed on an ice cube. Sean hated that.

“I’ll bet yoouuu,” Sean twirled the ends of the two thin braids at the base of his shaven head, “It’ll be 25 minutes before Patton starts giggling at something that comes out of Romans mouth.”

“Please, this is Patton we’re talking about. It’ll take 15 minutes max.”

“Loser pays for tonight’s drinks?”

“You know it.”

About three more rounds of drinks, some notes exchanged on each other’s newer poems and 20 minutes into the night, they heard a small laugh coming from Patton. They saw the adorably goofy grin he gave to Roman, who was also blushing. They were too drunk to catch what he had said, but his hands were in that fancy dramatic pose he likes to do.

“Ha!” said Sean, his voice slightly high pitched from being tipsy. “I win!”

“Like hell you did!” Nellie said loudly. “That was a chuckle, not a giggle.”

“Bitch, where? That wasn’t a damn chuckle. Chuckles are all like, hmmmhhmm. A giggle is like, giheeheehee. Patton giggled. I win.”

“A’ight, a’ight. Damn you’re a lousy winner.”

Roman must’ve noticed the poets getting a bit wily and came over.

“Uhh everything gucci over here?” he asked.

“Yep,” said Sean, popping the p.

“Need anything else?”

“Nah, just the check. Nellie here is paying tonight.”

Nellie handed over their card to Roman, shooting playful daggers towards Sean’s cheeky face. However, Sean was at least good enough to take care of the tip for them both, dropping the last $2 cash he had on him. They were still broke poets after all.

“Thanks! Be right back with your card.” Said Roman. “You know, it’s really quite nice how the two of you always seem to take turns paying for drinks.”

The two gave each other a knowing look. “Riiight.”

* * *

(POV- Valerie, Jasmine, and Calypso)

It was a tradition for the three friends to go for happy hour drinks after work every Friday. They’d been doing it since they were young post college graduates suffering through the same two-year internship, always opting to go to the same local bar and grill. For them, drinks at Sanders’ was a tradition that kept them together and maintained the little bit of a social life they could squeeze into their busy schedules. Each women looked forward to seeing their friends, venting about their co-workers, and having a good laugh over drinks. Most importantly, they loved watching the slow burn romance between the cute bartenders that worked there.

“Here you go ladies!”

Patton beamed, handing the three friends their second round of drinks; a martini for Valerie, a scotch on the rocks for Calypso, and a merlot for Jasmine.

“Thank you my dear,” said Valerie.

“Thanks Patton,” said Jasmine.

“You’re the best Pat,” said Calypso.

“Aww you too kiddo! Now if you need anything else I’ll be over beer.”

For the sake of their favorite bartender Valerie and Jasmine fake laughed. Calypso was the only one that actually found his puns funny. As Patton got back to work, the three of them went back to slyly spying on him and the other more handsome bartender as they interacted behind the counter.

“Ugh, they are seriously too adorable,” said Jasmine.

“I know this is gonna sound really high school of me,” said Calypso, “but those two are seriously my OTP.”

“That was a super high school-y statement, but honestly, same,” said Valerie, sipping her drink.

She sighed fondly as she watched Roman’s turned back, his muscles flexing beneath the black work shirt. Patton was adorably cute with his sun-shiny smile, smattering of freckles and dad-bod. However, Roman was straight up (the only thing straight about him) gorgeous!

“Oh Roman, if I’d been born male and homosexual…”

“Don’t you dare Val, not even in a fantasy,” said Calypso, lightly poking her arm.

“Obviously I would never!”

“Just saying.”

“Hey, I’m way too invested in this thing to get between it, even in a fantasy.”

“Good, because those two clearly belong together. I mean have you ever seen two people with more chemis—

“Shush, shush, girls! Look,” said Jasmine, frantically waving to her friends.

“What? What are we looking at?” asked Calypso.

“Look-but don’t look-to the left.”

Valerie and Caplypso discreetly glanced at where their friend was nodding towards and had to stifle the squeals in their throats. Both Roman and Patton had been reaching for the same bottle of whisky and their hands had touched. Neither bartender was pulling away. It was like something straight out of a rom-com that could rival even Patton’s level of cheesiness. All three girls leaned closer at the bar quite literally on the edge of their seats as they saw the two look at their hands, then at each other, saw their faces slowly draw closer to each other and…pull away again.

All three let out a collective groan.

“Uuggh, so close!” said Calypso, taking a big gulp from her glass.

“Seriously,” said Valery, nursing her glass, “this is worse than The Office.”

“Just wish they’d kiss already…” Jasmine mumbled.

They watched Patton hand the bottle to Roman and then promptly go to his end of the bar with a wet rag over his shoulder. The girls quickly proceeded to act casually as he came their way.

“Still good here ladies?” he asked.

“We’re okay Patton, thank you,” said Valerie.

“Alrighty! You know, it is always so nice to see you three. It makes my hour all the more happy.”

He smiled at all three of them then went back to work. Patton really was such a sweetheart. He deserved someone strong and charming like Roman to sweep him off his feet. Why do boys have to be so clueless?

“Well ladies, looks like we’ll have to come back again next Friday,” said Jasmine. “Those two are bound to get together eventually, and we’ll be here when they do.”

Valerie and Calypso agreed, then the three ladies clinked their drinks.

* * *

(POV- Terrence, Imani, and Dakota)

“I’m telling you, Roman blushed first!” Terrence said to Dakota over his place of Buffalo wings, taking a drink from his rum and coke.

“And I’m telling you Patton blushed first!” said Dakota, spilling a bit of his whisky as he gestured vehemently.

His service dog Braveheart barked in agreement. Dakota reached down and fed the black Chihuahua an artichoke dipped chip.

“Guys, you’re both wrong,” said Imani, twirling the last cherry in her Shirley Temple. “Neither one of them has actually blushed at something the other said or did yet.”

The three regulars were an odd group to see, being so vastly different from one another. Terrence was a short black police officer; Dakota was a pepper-haired biker/pianist; and Imani was a hijabi optometrist. They never saw or spoke to each other outside of Sanders’; heck they never even sat at the same table. Still they’d all been coming to the bar & grill long enough to know each other by name. As well as make regular bets with each other on the two bartenders whom the three agreed clearly had a thing for each other. Seriously, it was so obvious Stevie Wonder with a frigging blindfold could see it!

“But you saw how red Roman’s face was when he came in for his shift. He saw Patton at the bar and it clearly made him blush. So I win,” said Terrence. “That’ll be five bucks please.”

“That wasn’t a blush, his face was just red from running over here from rehearsals,” said Imani. “He started that play or something, remember?” 

“How could we forget? He practically stood on top of the bar and shouted it to everyone in here,” said Dakota. “Talk about dramatic.

“Well this is Roman we’re talking about,” Terrence smirked.

“True. Ahh if I were 30 years younger,” sighed Dakota.

“Hell, if I weren’t straight I’d hit that,” said Terrence.

“Ugh. You guys are making me happy that I can’t date,” said Imani.

“Aren’t you ace anyways?” asked Terrence.

“I never said the rules didn’t work in my favor.” She downed the last of her non-alcoholic drink and fixed a loose pin in her head scarf.

“Okay well what about Patton? I know I saw a reddish tint on his freckle covered cheeks,” said Dakota.

“That was clearly from the ambulance that passed by outside,” she said.

“Ha! Told ya. So we’re still at an impasse,” said Terrence, crossing his arms over his uniform. The biker responded with a grumble.

“Buuut I’m still holding out my bet against both of you that Roman is going to kiss Patton’s had sometime tonight,” said Imani. “He’s been extra princely to him since Patton’s boyfriend called and cancelled their date tonight.”

The three groaned almost simultaneously, and even Braveheart growled. They had eavesdropped seen Patton talking on the phone earlier that night. Right afterwards the poor guy’s shoulders slumped and he was munching on one of the ‘cheer-up’ cookies he often gave to customers if they were sad. Only one person could do that to their friendly fatherly figure. The one thing they all could agree on was that Patton’s tattooed boyfriend who came in occasionally was a raging douchbag.

“Man I hate that guy!” said Terrence.

“Same,” said Imani.

“Patton deserves so much better,” said Dakota. “He deserved Roman, and Roman deserves him!”

“Speak of the wannabe Disney prince…”

Imani pointed to Roman coming around from the bar. He walked briskly towards Patton, who was struggling with what seemed to be a complicated and large order of drinks from a loud group of young hipsters. None of them recognized the new faces and Patton was so off his game it was visible from across the room. Terrence, Dakota and Imani leaned in to get a better look.

“Greetings young travelers!” Roman said, coming to Patton’s aid. “I’ll be happy to take the rest of your drink orders. My partner here is needed at the bar.”

Patton smiled, following the others lead. “Don’t worry, my friend here will take good care of you. I’ll be right out with this half of all your orders. You just hang tight kiddos.”

The two tag-teamed mixing and bringing over the drinks to the rambunctious group. Soon they were all satisfied, and the three regulars could only gape in amazement. They really were a power couple team.

“Thanks for the help Ro,” said Patton, whipping his brow with the sleeve of his black cardigan around his neck. “That was a tall order. Heck, I almost lost my glasses ‘cause they were stacked against me!”

Terrence rolled his eyes, but Roman merely chuckled. “All in a nights work Patton. Besides you did look a bit overwhelmed.”

“Lucky I can always count on my partner Mr. Prince to come to my rescue.”

At this Roman very clearly blushed. “Naturally, I am in-Clined to assist.”

Roman grinned at the laugh he managed to coax from the other’s lips. Then he took Patton’s hand in his and lightly placed a kiss on the back of it. Then the two went back to work, although Patton was much more smiley and red-faced than before.

“Ha! Roman blushed first! Pay up,” said Terrence. Dakota grumbled as he slapped a $5 bill into the cop’s outreached hand.

“Ah-ah. Don’t forget about my little wager,” said Imani. “Pay up boys!”

Both men groaned audibly as they handed her $5 each. She pocketed the cash into her purse.

“I thought you Muslims weren’t supposed to gamble,” said the biker, scratching his dogs ears.

“Betting on the inevitable isn’t a gamble. It’s an investment. Now, $20 says Patton will confess to Roman first.”

The two men said, “You’re on.”

* * *

(POV- Joan & Talyn)

The dinner rush at Sanders’ was keeping Joan and Talyn plenty busy. All night they’ve been taking orders, clearing plates, bringing checks, and dealing with the rare bitchy customer. Talyn was clutching their lapis lazuli necklace, hoping that the stone really would help to keep their headache from turning full-blown migraine (they’d also taken two Alieve earlier to be safe). Meanwhile Joan was simply fighting the urge not to snap back salty yet well deserved insults at the pickier customers. Logan was out of his office tonight and while the boss was a nice guy, he didn’t take kindly to customers being insulted (even if they deserve it; undercooked my ass, you entitled pricks).

Even as the two waiters crisscrossed each other while working, they found a way to make the rush more bearable: The puppy love longing count! They both had made the game a while back after they realized how totally gaga their co-workers Roman and Patton were for each other. Aaaand they both may or may not have gotten the idea for the game after re-watching Lord of the Rings together for the fifth time.

“14,” said a passing Talyn balancing a tray on their arm.

“17,” said Joan in passing, carrying a checkbook to one of his tables.

Four minutes later…

“21,” said Talyn grinning.

“18,” said Joan, pouting.

Ten minutes later…

“24,” said Talyn.

“26,” said Joan.

“No way! You had to have fudged some of those numbers.”

“I counted every one, no fudge pudge face.” Joan booped Talyn’s nose.

Their significant other’s jaw dropped and Talyn glowered at them. Joan couldn’t help but grin like a Cheshire cat. Even when they were mad Talyn was still undeniably adorable.

“Oh fine!” Tayln said. “But I’m definitely going to win again.”

“Not a chance. By the end of tonight, Patton will have sighed longingly at Roman more times than Roman does with Patton.”

“Tonight’s loser is on dish duty. Team Pun Papa will win!”

“You’re on babe. Team Drama King all the way!”

Although both waiters shipped their friends hard, each of them had their favorite. It kept things entertaining and fun at least. They were so busy talking that they didn’t realize Logan had come over. That is, until he cleared his throat. He pushed up his glasses and adjusted his tie, going into full-blown Mr. Shapiro boss mode. Not fun.

“Joan. Talyn. While I do not mind idle chatter when there is a lull I will remind you to stay attentive with your duties. This is still a business after all,” he said.

The two gulped audibly. “Yes boss.”

Just then they both saw Logan suddenly stand up straighter, his face tense, almost fearful. Talyn was about to ask what was the matter when suddenly they heard a faint siren in the distance; a telltale sign that an ambulance or police car or something of the sort was about to drive by Sanders’. The two waiters looked at each other then at their boss worriedly. Logan did not do well with sudden loud noises and sirens could send him straight into a sensory overload. His hands were already twitching at his side, prepared to plug his own ears.

Joan was about to offer Logan the ear buds in their apron pocket, but someone beat them to the punch. Patton reached Logan and covered the bar & grill owner’s ears with his own hands right as an ambulance blared by loudly. He even gently turned Logan’s head away from the windows so that the flashing blue and red lights wouldn’t hurt his eyes. Once the sirens could no longer be heard, Patton carefully removed his hands from his head. Logan’s shoulders immediately relaxed and he let out a shuddered breath.

“Thank you Patton. I truly appreciate your assistance,” he said, his voice gentle.

“No problem kiddo-I mean Logan,” Patton smiled sheepishly. “I know how badly sirens get to you.”

“Yes, well, think I’ll just go sit in the quiet of my office for a bit.” He placed a hand on Patton’s shoulder for a moment then left. “Joan, Talyn, as you were.”

The waiters let out a sigh of relief. Over Patton’s shoulder they saw Roman also sighing, except his was clearly directed at Patton. Roman was leaning his elbow on the bar top, head in his hand and metaphorical hearts in his eyes. However the second Patton looked back at him Roman was standing straight, looking off to the side and whistling. Joan rolled their eyes at the dramatic co-worker.

“Well kiddos, back to work!” said Patton, re-joining Roman behind the bar.

Joan felt Talyn grab their hand and give it a quick squeeze. When they looked down at them their tongue was sticking out playfully.

“25 bitch!” said Talyn.

Joan grinned. “Oh this isn’t over yet!” Not by a long shot.

* * *

(POV- Virgil, Alex, & Thomas)

“So I was thinking of doing something like this,” said Alex, showing Virgil the latest sketch in their notebook. “What do you think Virge? Is there too much going on? Not enough? Give it to me straight.”

“That’s gonna be hard since neither of us is,” said Virgil, looking over the drawing with the critical eye of a fellow artist.

Virgil had come into Sanders’ again on one of his parkour/mozzarella runs and Alex had just happened to be at the bar in their usual spot. Neither Virgil nor Alex was much for excessive socializing, unlike Virgil’s stepbrother Patton, but somehow the two immediately clicked. Probably because they were both artist and anxiety-ridden introverts, so there was an unspoken lack of pressure. At least that’s how Alex felt. Virgil was the only person Alex felt comfortable showing their sketches to, and he had even shown Alex some of his own pre-mural sketches. While Alex’s style was more on the Escher side, Virgil’s was like the lovechild of Picasso and Tim Burton. So they bounced off ideas pretty well.

“Okay, so, this part looks a big too crowded so it’s hard to see all the little details,” said Virgil, pointing to the picture, “and this part feels a bit empty in comparison. But aside from that, I think it’s one of your best ones.”

Virgil gave them one of his rare smiles and handed Alex back their sketchbook. Alex thanked him for the advice, but then they both flinch-turned at the thunder-like sound of knocking on the aluminum kitchen windowsill.

“Order up Virgil!” said Thomas, cheerful as ever. “Here you go bud.”

Virgil took the to-go bag of mozzarella sticks. “Thanks Thomas.”

“How’s you’re mural going?” Thomas asked.

“Pretty good actually. Alex gave me some good tips for the light and shadowing snag I’d hit, so hopefully I’ll be finished with it soon.”

“I can’t wait to see it,” said Alex.

“You’re one of the very few exclusive people invited dude,” said Virgil. “Hope I’ll get to see yours when it’s done too. Only if your comfortable with it though!”

Alex smiled. “Definitely, if I ever finish it. Though I’ll be honest, it’s more likely the Rapture will happens sooner than that.”

“Or Patton and Roman admitting their feelings for each other,” said Thomas. Both Virgil and Alex busted out laughing.

“Oh man, yes! Geez those two dorks, I swear. At the rate they’ve been going lately though, I give it two months.”

“You underestimate my brother dude. I give it the end of the month tops. Hopefully he’ll wise up and dump that douche Dio by then. Unless Roman confesses first. Then I give it a week.”

“Wanna bet? Loser has to buy the winner new art supplies.” Alex said.

“You’re on. Hey Thomas, you want to get in on this?” Virgil asked.

“Oh heck yeah! $20 bucks says Roman either confesses or kisses the other in eehhh two weeks. He looks like he’s about to crack any day now.”

“Deal,” said the two artists.

“Hey fellas!” Thomas shouted back into the kitchen. “We’re placing new bets on the Roman and Patton romance. Anyone want to join in?”

“Oh hell yeah,” shouted Enrique, followed by the other cooks.

* * *

(POV- Joan and Logan)

Joan had been about to tell Logan that they were going on break when they both heard the shattering of glass from by the bar. They caught the flash of worry in Logan’s eyes as he rushed over to find the source of the noise, Joan following behind. What they saw was a broken bottle of Jack Daniels spilled on the floor, glass shards everywhere. Standing over the mess was Patton and Roman. The latter was pressing a rag into Patton’s right hand and, ah geez, was that blood!?

“Everybody stay in your seats please,” Logan said to the surrounding customers. Luckily there weren’t many in the bar tonight and they’d all been smart enough to not get up.

“I’ll go get the mop and broom,” said Joan, heading to the supply closet, careful of the glass shards.

“Patton what happened?” asked Logan, his voice stern yet still held tones of concern.

“I-I was getting a new bottle of Jack Daniels since we were running low. Did you know those things are heavier than they look?”

Logan could tell from his shoulders that poor Patton was trembling. Alternatively, Roman’s face was scrunched up in what appeared to be worry. Or possibly constipation, but that seemed less likely.

“I would’ve gotten it myself but I was busy with drink orders and Patton insisted,” said Roman.

“And I had just finished washing some glasses,” Patton said. “So I guess my hands were still a little wet and, well, it slipped…”

“Logan please don’t blame Patton. I’m the one at fault here,” said Roman, straightening his back and wrapping a protective arm around Patton.

“No Roman, you are not at fault here. This was Patton’s doing, however unintentional it was.”

“I’m sorry Logan,” said Patton.

Joan returned with a mop in one hand and the broom/dustpan in the other. They looked up at Logan waiting for the owner’s response to the damage.

“Well, this is certainly a gross inconvenience on my part and an unprofessional slip up on yours—“

“Dad joke?” asked Patton timidly.

“Uh, not a good time Pat,” Roman said gently.

“But, given that this is the first such incident that you’ve had...I shall let it slide this time. However, the cost of the alcohol is going to be coming out of your next few paychecks.”

Joan winced. That was definitely going to take a dent out of his Vet school funs.

Patton sighed, “That’s fair. Ow.”

Patton winced at his hurt hand. Heck, you could see the tears threatening to spill from behind his glasses. Seeing this, Logan softened back up a bit, like how he did when Talyn wasn’t feeling well. He stepped over the glass to place a gentle hand on Patton’s shoulder, giving him a small genuine smile.

“Now go take care of that cut on your hand. Attending to your injury is far more important than fixing an accident. You can use the first aid kit that I keep in my office. Joan and I shall clean up out here.”

Patton smiled up at him. “Thanks Logan. I appreciate that.”

“Please Patton, allow me to assist in taking care of your wound,” said Roman.

Before Patton could say otherwise, Roman was literally sweeping him off his feet. Patton’s face went completely red as the overdramatic actor carried him bridal style towards the back of Sanders’ where Logan’s office was, closing the door behind them. Joan, Talyn, Thomas and all of the regulars either snickered or looked worriedly at Logan. Some even seemed to be exchanging money. They waited for a reaction from the robotic boss, but none of them expected to see him shaking his head at the scene with a smile on his face.

“I do wish those two would just copulate already,” he said.

Everyone’s jaws dropped. Joan looked at their boss, not even bothering to hide the grin that split across their face.

Logan adjusted his glasses. “What? I’m on the spectrum, not blind.”

He took the broom and dustpan from Joan’s hand and began sweeping up the broken glass. Once it was cleaned up, Joan got to work mopping the spill.

Yep, Joan thought. The only blind ones around here are those two.

NEXT-->

Tag List: @altruistic-skittles @thekeytohappiness-is-you @canadian-crofters  @icecoldparadise @bluebloodstains @purpleshipper @patchworkofstars @axyzel @hissesssss @beautifully-terribly @pink-and-purple-flowers @jynxlovesluck @thatsanswitch @6tick6tock6 @hanramz-the-fander @azlinne @helplesscreator @thestoryofme13 @bibbidi-bobbity-booyah @accidental-sanders @moonstonefox12 @hissesssss @smokeyrutilequartz @phlying-squirrel

[hoyoungy]

On-Air | Vernon/Hansol (II)

genre: fluff, comedy, slight angst, college au | vernon x radio personality!reader summary: under the pseudonym Honey, you are the host of the most popular radio show in the city called Honey Time Radio where you give advice about relationships, school, and life in general. when it comes to your own love-life, however, you don’t have the best luck, and you don’t even follow your own advice! so what happens when you get a call from a listener who’s asking you advice on how to get to your heart? word count: 3112 a/n: glad to see you guys like it so far! warnings include swearing, that it’s a dialogue-heavy fic, and there’s a lot of platonic wonwoo x reader. as seen on my ao3

part i, iii

“He wants to what?” Wonwoo asked, tossing his backpack on his chair in the studio.

You sighed as you slumped in your own chair, trying to settle in before you start Monday night’s show. “He wants to study together. Or grab lunch… Or both, I don’t know, he was being really weird on Friday.”

“Hansol doesn’t want to study,” he scoffed. “In a good semester, he owns one notebook, wide-ruled and maybe three pencils… Hansol doesn’t study.”

“See, that’s what I thought, too! What should I do? Should I say no when he asks for a date and time?”

“What!? No, go through with it! Play along and make him think you think he’s smart and likes to study!”

“Why would I do that!?”

“Because Hansol’s just that guy, you know? He likes to impress girls by liking things that they’re interested in and that’s how he makes them fall for him. I’ve seen his work.”

“And I’m supposed to just listen to him talk about how the mitochondria is the trap house of the cell and I’ll fall in love with him?”

“Yes! Or at least try to, it’s obvious he’s interested in you.”

“I don’t know why he’s even bothering. He’s probably just using me to get to Honey.”

“_____, not every guy is like that.”

“I don’t know, I’ve got a pretty good streak going on,” you said sarcastically. “I’m at a whopping five boys who have played me.”

“Ok, so there’s a chance that Hansol might be using you to get to Honey. But what if he isn’t? Are you going to let your connection with Honey cock-block you for the rest of your life?”

“That’s not what I meant,” you pouted. “I can still get laid if I want to.”

“But that’s not the same as a relationship.”

“I don’t think I should be taking relationship advice from someone who brings home a different girl every thirsty Thursday.”

“Hey, this is you we’re discussing, not me,” he scolded, though you could see him holding back his proud grin.

“Shut up and press the button already, we’re like fifteen seconds behind,” you demanded. He mocked your nagging with funny faces before dramatically pressing on the ‘On-Air’ button.

You sighed deeply into your mic. “Hello, friends. It’s your favorite problematic duo here, Honey and Wonwoo, aka HonWon. Or should it be HonWoo? HonWoo makes more sense, doesn’t it? I don’t know, let us know what you guys think our ship name should be, we trust you.”

“But put my name first!” Wonwoo shouts across the room.

“It’s 7:00 PM on a Monday evening as we’re recording this. You know, the melancholic Mondays are starting to feel a bit numb as the cold season approaches. My only class on Mondays and Wednesdays doesn’t start until three in the afternoon, and do you know what time I got out of bed today? 1:36 PM. And I was still so tired! It might be because I found out yesterday that I didn’t do so hot on my English exam. I almost didn’t get out of bed. I was ready to call Wonwoo to just come over so we can do the show in my room, but I didn’t. I got up, conquered my day, and now here I am, doing what I love by talking with all of you. Getting out of bed is half the battle. I know some days can get harder than others, but I know we can do it. I hope you all did or are doing what you need to do today and are ending your day how you want it to.” Wonwoo shoots you a thumbs up for your motivational speech. “On a much lighter note, I think we’re ready for our first caller! Caller number four, you’re on air.”

“Hello?” a familiar voice said. “Wow, hey, I got it! U-Uh, how are you?”

You and Wonwoo exchange a glance of panic. Neither of you could believe your ears. No way was it Hansol. But looking at Wonwoo’s wide eyes, you began to doubt yourself.

“Hey ~ there ~” you hesitated. “I’m doing well…! How about you?”

“Good, good. Absolutely nervous right now, but you know, good.”

“There’s no need to be nervous here. What’s your name?”

“Vernon,” he said quickly. “My name is Vernon.”

Wonwoo jumps out of his chair from excitement and quickly scribbles on his notepad. In his messy handwriting, you see the words, ‘THAT’S HANSOL’S MIDDLE NAME’ in all caps as he shakes the notepad vigorously.

You suddenly can’t find your voice. Shit, why was he calling!?

“W-Wow, interesting name. Sounds American,” you commented awkwardly as Wonwoo snickered. “So what do you want to talk about, Vernon?”

“This sounds stupid, but do you ever get the feeling that you’re misunderstood?”

You raised your brow at Wonwoo and he did the same. That’s not what either of you expected from Hansol.

“I mean, you seem like someone who’s pretty open about their feelings and what not, and maybe it’s because a lot of us don’t know who you are,” he continued. “But doesn’t that ever feel, I don’t know… Alienating?”

“Huh… You know, I never really thought about it. But I know what you mean. I cannot tell you how many times I’ve wanted to just shout out to the world about who I am. Why do you ask?”

“I feel like I’ve been trying to be someone I’m not for a long time. How emo do I sound right now, do I sound like I’m twelve?”

“No, not at all,” you said, trying to hold back your chuckle as you watched Wonwoo step out of the studio to laugh. “We’ve all been there, I promise you. Why do you think you’re trying to be someone you’re not?”

“I think I’ve just been so used to pretending because it’s gotten me laid so many times,” he chuckled sheepishly. You rolled your eyes at his obvious statement and ignored the sting in your chest. Something like that really shouldn’t bother you as much as it should. “And all of this pretending has sort of become a part of me, you know? All of my friends and all the girls that know me see me as this guy who doesn’t really give a fuck and I’ve kept this facade up for so long that I feel like I’m losing myself and it’s driving me fucking insane! Oh shit, I swore, sorry!”

“No worries, we’ll edit it that out.” Wonwoo rushed back inside to listen to the rest of Hansol’s story. “Why are you suddenly tired of it? It seems like you didn’t have a problem with it until now.”

“This is where the real problem comes in, I guess. So there’s this girl…” As Hansol paused, Wonwoo aggressively pointed his fingers at you with a wide grin on his face. You flipped him off to shut him up. “I really want to get close to her. Not even in that way, you know, at least not yet. Just like… As friends.”

“And you think that she won’t see it that way,” you mused. “You think she’ll see it as an attempt for you to get something else out of it.”

“Exactly! I don’t want to come off as the nice guy because I definitely think that’s what she’s thinking.”

Well, he’s not wrong. You’ve experienced way too many nice guys in the past and it bit you in the ass one hundred percent of the time. You thanked Honey for that.

“Have you asked her to hang out with you yet?” you asked, thinking that he wasn’t talking about you. You really hoped he wasn’t, and if he was, what were you to do if he actually asked to hang out?

“Not yet… We sort of made unoffical plans, but nothing was set in stone.”

“If you really want to be her friend, you have to show her. You know, put in the effort by asking her when she wants to make the plans official.”

“I was going to when I last saw her, but she’s really scary!”

“What!?” you exclaimed, insulted that he thought about you that way. Well, the girl he was talking about… “Why do you want to be friends with her then!?”

“I guess that’s kind of what attracted me to her,” Hansol chuckled. “I’ve never met someone like her before. She’s definitely not just someone I’d bring home for one night.”

“Maybe that’s what’s scarying you, too - commitment.”

“Yeah, that sounds like something I’d be terrified of.”

“I think you just need to put a foot through the door for now. If you’re serious about getting closer to her, then you need to take things slow. I think your idea of just grabbing lunch and hanging out is a great start.”

“Yeah, I think you’re right. I don’t even know why I’m overthinking so much in the first place!”

“You must like her.”

“A little bit,” Hansol sighed dreamily. “She’s really cute…”

A bright blush began to color you cheeks. Even if this wasn’t about you, the way he just talked about ‘her’ was so heartfelt. If this wasn’t about you, you might admit you were a little jealous.

“I wish you the best of luck, Vernon. You can always try calling us back if you need anymore help.”

“You’re the best, Honey. I hope you have a nice night.”

“Y-Yeah, you, too,” your flushing face was starting to get too much for you to handle. “Ok, I’ll be taking a short break as Wonwoo plays music that’s probably too explicit for this station. Be back in five.”

You mute your mic and take a deep breath before chugging some water. Looking at the clock, you saw it was only 7:20. You had over two and a half hours left of the show and you were already tired.

“That’s totally Hansol!” Wonwoo exclaimed. “I know that wannabe-deep voice anywhere! He was talking about you!”

“Shut up, that’s not -”

You were cut off by the loud textone of your cell that lit up the studio. You and Wonwoo froze in your place. You were too afraid to touch your phone and Wonwoo was all too eager, grabbing it before you could and reading the message.

“‘Hey, _____, it’s Hansol’,” Wonwoo read in his best Hansol voice. “‘I was wondering if you’d be free to grab some food after you’re done with Honey Time? I could use a study break.’ Oh, shit, see! I told you!”

“No way…” you whsipered. “So he really wants to be my friend? I don’t understand.”

“He wants to be your friend and then eventually, he wants to be more than just friends, come on, _____, I know you’re not dumb.” Wonwoo vigorously tapped on your phone. “‘Hey, Hansol! I’d love to grab a snack. I can totally help you with studying, too, if you need it.’”

“Hey, I’m not consenting to this!” you pouted. “Why did you agree!? I’m already tired!”

“Shut up, you woke up at 1:30 today. Be prepared to stay up late ‘cuz Hansol’s fucking terrible at science.”

“Why do you hate me?”

“I’m trying to get you laid, you should be thanking me. Oh, he texted back so quickly. ‘I definitely need it, but I couldn’t ask you to stay up so late with me.’ He’s so charming with girls, why doesn’t he ever text me like this?”

“Tell him, ‘Yeah, you’re right, that is too late for me to stay up.’”

“‘It’s no problem at all! I have nothing planned early tomorrow, anyways.’”

“I have a 9:00 AM tomorrow!”

“‘Sounds great, you’re the best. Can’t wait to see you.’ Ooh, you hear that? He can’t wait to see you ~”

“Fuck, break’s over,” you said, unable to curse out Wonwoo for his recklessness. You throw on your headphones and put on your fakest smile. “A~And we’re back. I think relationship advice is one of my favorite forms of advice to give. It’s especially rewarding during the cold seasons, as flourishing love warms my heart.”

“Gross,” Wonwoo commented.

“Too much? Let’s move on then, shall we? Caller number twenty-nine, what’s on your mind?”

“That Vernon guy sounds cute! Can I get his number?”

“Whoops, you’re connection’s going bad,” you said bitterly, purposely hanging up on the caller. “Sorry ~ Try calling again later.”

You ignored the peripheral sight of Wonwoo shaking his head at you in disapproval.

“And that’s all for tonight, folks. Thanks for tuning in, and as usual, stay safe out there. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, same time, same place. This is Honey signing off.”

Your phone lit up as Wonwoo began to shut down the studio. The text was from Hansol.

‘Just listened to the end of the show. I’m already here, but take your time’, it read.

“Jeez, someone’s eager,” Wonwoo said, looking over your shoulder.

“Pray that I won’t embarrass myself tonight.”

“That’s a waste of a prayer because I know you’ll do so, anyways.”

“Thanks for your support…”

“You’re welcome! I’ll head out first. You can tell him Honey left with me through the back door if he asks.”

“How is it that I hate you and love you at the same time?”

“The real statement is you hate that you can’t love me anymore than you already do.”

“Goodnight, Wonwoo.”

Wonwoo left the studio first and you took the two minutes of alone time that you had to mentally prepare yourself for this little, uh, date you had with Hansol. From the way that he was talking to Honey, it seemed like he thought you were intimidating, or something. But he also said that’s what attracted you to him in the first place… Should you be keeping up your own facade as Hansol was trying to break down his own?

Walking outside of the studio, you see Hansol waiting for you in sweats and a hoodie. He looked extremely tired and you wonder if it’s because he’s actually been studying a lot this whole time or if he’s just that tired.

He greeted you with another dazzling, gummy grin. “Hey! How was the show?”

Shit, you almost forgot he was your first caller earlier. Whenever you met your callers, you were always so awkward around them because it was hard for you to keep your cool and your secret a secret.

“It went well. Honey had a lot of callers talk about relationships today. It was interesting to listen to, to say the least.”

“Yeah… Do people ever call back and tell her if her advice worked?”

“I think a couple of times, but not really. It’s a shame, she and I always want to know if it ever worked out,” you said, trying to clue him in on calling again after tonight.

“Have you ever asked her about relationship advice before?” he asked you.

You shake your head. “No. Not yet, at least.”

“Why not?”

“Not to toot my own horn, but I think I’m pretty good at gauging how I feel about someone right when I meet them. If I have a feeling they’re using me for something, I cut them off.”

“I think your gauge must like me then,” he said, smiling proudly.

“I think so, too.”

“Wow, you weren’t kidding when you said you needed help…”

You and Hansol sat at a table in one of the 24-hour cafes on campus. He paid for your drink as a thank you for tonight. You noticed he liked his coffee black.

It was 10:30 right now, and with midterms coming up, you weren’t surprised to see that the place was packed. Hansol scattered all of his notes, past quizzes, and past exams on the table in front of you. His quizzes and exams had a lot of numbers in the 50s and 60s written in red ink.

“The mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell,” he said robotically.

“I can see that you got that question right, at least,” you said, pointing to one of his quizzes.

“Ugh, what do I do? The second midterm is next week and if I don’t get at least a B in that, I gotta retake the course in the summer!”

“Have you actually been studying?”

“Yes, I swear! It’s just that science isn’t really my subject and I have to take this course because I gotta fulfill the fucking gen-ed requirements.”

“What are you even majoring in?”

“International relations,” he grinned.

“Wow, I didn’t expect that.”

“Not many people do. Suits me, doesn’t it?” he asked. “Imagine me in a sexy, black suit, looking sexy. Totally my major, right?”

“Seems like you wanna be a fashion model instead.”

“Am I that handsome to you?”

“Ugh,” you groaned. “Go study.”

“What, you’re supposed to be helping me!”

“You’re distracting yourself!”

“Distracting myself or you?” he teased, leaning in closer.

You sighed, pulling on his hoodie strings to close the hood. “Do you flirt with all of your tutors?”

“Is it working?”

Hansol’s hands wrapped around yours so you’d let go of the hoodie strings. His hands were soft and warm, exactly how you expected them to be. Almost immediately, you yanked your hands back, not used to the closeness.

What have you gotten yourself into?

“Oh, sorry -”

“N-No, don’t worry about it! I’m just not used to, um, skinship.”

“Haven’t you had a boyfriend before?”

“No, not really,” you shook your head. “I’ve dated guys here and there, but it never worked out.”

“How come?”

You looked at Hansol and saw genuine interest in his eyes. You could tell he didn’t see you as that crazy girl who couldn’t get a boyfriend. If he really was trying to get closer to you for Honey, you couldn’t tell and you didn’t want to believe it.

You shrugged. “Just not lovable enough, I guess.”

“Did someone tell you that?”

“No, I just assumed.”

“Good, I thought I had to beat someone up,” he smirked.

“Then you really won’t pass biology.”

“Will you help tutor me still if I don’t pass?” he begged, batting his long eyelashes at you.

“No, because you’re going to pass, starting by labelling all of these organelles in a eukaryotic cell.”

“Ok, but after I get us more coffee.”

“Oh, no, that’s ok -”

“Nonsense! Friends get friends more coffee, right?” he winked, taking your empty cup.

“You’re stalling.”

“I definitely am.”

[theladyofdeath]

Castaway {ACOTAR/Chapter 2}

Word Count: 2,281

Summary:  A modern-day University AU, from the A Court of Thorns and Roses universe. All characters belong to Sarah J. Maas. The idea for this fanfic hailed from prompts sent in by Anonymous, and @queen-archeron. You can read previous chapters here.

Author’s Note: Chapter 3 is when shit starts getting real, so I hope you enjoy the path to feels. Let me know what you think. :)

September 3 – The Day I Wore Heels

My paintbrushes look good in the vase Elain bought me. She probably meant for me to put flowers in them, but I guess that’s where we differ in taste.

My roommates are nice, I guess. Well, the blonde one is, anyway. Her name is Mor, and she changes her clothes at least fifteen times a day. Her make up is always immaculate, she never has a hair out of place, and I swear she wakes up that way. She keeps giving me strange looks, though.

They both do.

I’m not sure why.

I’ve racked my brain a thousand times of what I’ve done to offend them. I keep going back to Tamlin. They reacted strange when they found out we were dating. I didn’t ask, though. I can’t decide if I didn’t ask because I didn’t care to know why, or because I was too scared to know why.

What if he and Mor dated? I can’t see him dating someone like Amren.

Mother help the person who ends up with that one.

Maybe I’ll ask Tamlin tonight. He invited me to a party. I guess I finally get a chance to wear the heels Elain bought me for my birthday last year.

Once again, shoes are where we differ in taste.

 Love,

The Lamb in the Lion’s Den

 Feyre had never been to a college party before. Hell, she’d never been to a high school party, either, but that wasn’t the point. The point was, she was dressed in her only dress – a hip hugging, black, long-sleeved dress that reached only to her mid-thigh – and she was walking around campus, from her dormitory to the Beta Theta Pi fraternity house.

It didn’t take her long to find, considering music was blasting from its lawn and a banner with the frat’s name painted across it hung from its roof.

“Feyre!”

Feyre knew that voice. She turned to find him running toward her, his golden hair hanging limply in his eyes. “Hey.”

“You made it just in time,” he assured her.

“In time for what?” she glanced around, but it didn’t look like anything too exciting was about to take place.

“In time to see me before I have to make my rounds.”

Tamlin was the president of Beta Theta Pi, and he took his role very seriously. Feyre, to her disappointment, had not seen a lot of him since she moved to campus the day before.

“Let me show you around,” Tamlin smiled, and Feyre couldn’t say no. He took her hand, and escorted her through the door of Beta Theta Pi.

Feyre wasn’t sure what she was expecting a fraternity house to look like, but this wasn’t it. It looked plain, with posters hanging all over the walls, some of them a bit suggestive, and couches with holes torn in them – she didn’t care to know how said holes appeared.

And yet, it was clean.

There was a DJ in the corner, doing his thing, and smoking what smelled too much like a skunk’s ass to be a cigarette, as people began trickling through the door.

“There’s the kitchen, you are obviously in the living room, and, if you need it, down the hall to your left is the bathroom.” Feyre nodded, but her mind began racing as every new person entered the house. Her hand still in his, Tamlin led Feyre up the staircase. He didn’t say another word until they were enclosed in his bedroom.

Feyre blinked.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, after flipping on the light switch and sitting on the edge of his bed.

“Nothing!” Feyre said, but didn’t move from her spot, just inside the door. “I just – I don’t know, it’s plain in here.”

Tamlin looked around. It was plain. There was nothing on the walls, not too many belongings strung throughout, and a bland white comforter lounging on top of his mattress. “I think it looks fine.”

Feyre nodded, but didn’t say anymore.

“Come sit with me,” Tamlin offered, patting the mattress beside him, gently.

Feyre did.

“You seem nervous.”

Feyre shrugged. “This is new territory for me.”

Tamlin smiled, and placed a hand on her upper thigh. Feyre’s nerves calmed at his touch, as he kissed her cheek, softly. “I’m glad you’re here.”

It was short lived, though, because before Feyre could respond, Tamlin’s door was thrown open. “You’re needed.”

Tamlin gave his friend a short nod before rising to his feet. “Stay in here for a while. I’ll come get you when I’m done.”

Now, Feyre’s brows really lifted. “You want me to stay in here? Alone?”

“Trust me,” he assured her. “You don’t want to go out there and wander alone. I won’t be long. I promise.”

Before Feyre could agree, he left.

And closed the door behind him.

“How are you feeling?”

Nesta stood at the foot of his cot, as he watched her with a thirsty, lingering expression in his hazel eyes.

“Great,” he smiled, lazily. “As good as one can feel when they got hit by an intoxicated jackass who ran a red light.”

He’d given her the same answer every time she asked. She had to admit she was curious about what had happened, as he had always been very brief with his statements. But, it was not her business. You don’t care, she reminded herself. Continuously.

“Here.” she handed him his pain medication, and a glass of water, before jotting down his vitals. “Everything is looking good, Mr. Nazari. You should consider yourself very lucky.”

“I’ve told you to call me Cassian.” Oh. He had. Every five minutes.

Nesta simply nodded before taking his empty cup and retrieving his street clothes from the cabinet. There was blood stained on his jeans, Nesta noticed, although his tee-shirt seemed to make it through the accident unscathed. Beneath his neatly folded pile of clothes were bulky, black boots that looked as if they had been worn every day for years. Then, in a clear, plastic Ziplock bag were a set of keys, his wallet, and a dogtag necklace.

“Are you going to stare at my stuff, Nurse Nesta, or may I get dressed and out of this hideous blue nightgown you all have put me in?”

Nesta didn’t turn before she could feel that the scarlet that had brushed her cheeks had vanished. “Apologies, Mr. Nazari. I was only making sure I didn’t miss anything.”

“Cassian,” he corrected, then smiled. “Thank you. Would you mind helping me untie?”

It wasn’t until he lifted himself up with his arms, and scooted around so that he was sitting with his back to her, that Nesta realized what he was asking. Trying to keep her slender hands as steady as possible, Nesta Archeron began to untie her patient’s hospital gown.

The top one wasn’t bad, as it only revealed the top of his back, the broadness of his shoulders. The tie that was neatly in a bow in the middle of his back, though, let out a little more. The arms of the gown fell to his wrists, revealing a tanned chest, and an impressively toned back and arms that were covered in tattoos. She couldn’t stop her eyes from traveling down his back, then to her displeasure, she found he was wearing a pair of red boxer-briefs.

She cleared her throat. “I am sure you can get the last one yourself.”

A soft laugh shook his shoulders. “If you insist, Nurse Nesta.”

He shrugged his tee-shirt over his shoulders, not waiting for her to leave first. She took it as a hint to dismiss herself.

“Nurse Nesta?”

She froze in the doorway. “Yes, Mr. N-“

He stopped her by clearing his throat.

She sighed. “Cassian.”

When she turned, he looked pleased. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

He had no idea.

“I have a problem.”

Nesta attempted to ignore the fact that his gown was completely removed and discarded, and her patient was sitting in his underwear.

“Yes?” she asked, when she realized he was not going to continue until he had her full attention.

Cassian looked from his jeans, to the cast that reached from his toes to just below his knee. “How am I supposed to get my jeans over this cast?”

Nesta blinked. Four years of nursing school and sixty thousand dollars in debt……and they neglected to teach her that one.

A knock came from the door and a man, who looked eerily similar to Cassian, just with shorter hair, stepped into the room.

Nesta had seen him before, in pictures Elain had posted on the internet. Azriel.

“Az?” Cassian raised his brows. “Not that it isn’t a pleasure to see you, because it always is, but where is Rhys?”

“Car broke down at the University.” Azriel’s words were short, and quiet. “He’s our next stop.”

Then, something in him softened as he took in Cassian, broken and bruised and pant-less on the cot. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Cassian said, and Nesta wondered what it was about this Azriel that could make him speak so seriously. “I’m fine, Az.”

Azriel nodded, then grabbed the crutches from the corner and handed them to Cassian. “Let’s go get you released, then.”

Cassian’s teasing grin returned as he rose to his foot, and swung his arms over the crutches, tossing his jeans over his shoulder as he did so.

Azriel didn’t even question his friend’s lack of pants.

“Well, Nurse Nesta, I guess this is how we say goodbye.”

Nesta gave him a nod. “Go to the end of the hall and turn left. You’ll see the checkout desk.”

Cassian tilted his head, and approached her, one hop at a time. “Unless you don’t want to say goodbye just yet.”

“Mr. Naza-“

“Cassian.”

“Cassian.” Nesta glanced at Azriel, who was looking between the two curiously. “I hope you feel better. Have a good night.”

Cassian grinned. “Is that all?”

Nesta nodded, crossly.

“Alright. Well, if you change your mind, I’ll be at the Harris Street Park on Thursday afternoon. By the pond. Probably sitting on a bench, considering.”

Nesta didn’t say anything else as the two walked out of the room, and down the hall.

She couldn’t believe that she watched him until he disappeared around the corner.

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­Elain admired herself in the mirror.

She was excited. She should have been excited. She hadn’t been on a date in years.

Lucien had come back the night before, to The Fawn, and they had talked for hours. He’d asked if he could take her to dinner, and she would have been stupid to refuse.

There was guilt, though, and it was eating her alive.

Her and Azriel had a fight.

He had come by that morning, bringing her a blueberry muffin from the bakery across the street. When she told him that she had a date, his demeanor changed.

“With Lucien?” he had asked.

“Yes,” Elain replied, simply. “I don’t understand why you hate him so much.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again, as if he had changed what he was going to say. “I just don’t think he’s right for you is all.”

“No? And why is that?” Elain crossed her arms.

“He could be dangerous.”

“He could be dangerous?” she repeated, unimpressed. “And how did you come to that conclusion?”

“He hangs around the wrong crowd.”

“And you know that, how?” she threw her hands in the air, calmness thrown out the window. “What, like you know him so well.”

“Actually, I –“

“I think you should leave.”

Azriel froze, blinked, and raised his brows. “What?”

“You should leave.”

“You’re getting mad at me?” he asked, incredulously. “Elain, you know me way better than you know him –“

“You’re not acting like you right now. You’re acting like an idiot.”

Azriel simply nodded. “Fine. You know what? Do whatever you want. I have to pick Cassian up from the hospital in an hour. I should leave anyway.”

Elain didn’t say anything else, she simply pointed to the door.

Setting her muffin on the countertop, he left, shutting the front door with an eerie silence as he did so.

The muffin was still there.

Elain couldn’t touch it, couldn’t eat it, she felt so horrible about what had happened.

Azriel was out of line, though. He was acting foolish, and he knew it, men were just too stubborn to admit such faults.

Then again, Elain did know Azriel better than anyone, and he had never acted like that before. Maybe there was something he knew. Maybe she should have heard him out.

Elain shook her head, and observed her appearance, once more. She was wearing one of her own designs, a floral maxi dress of olive-green and blush, the perfect contrast to her dark brown braid.

She would have fun.

She would not think about Azriel, or their fight.

Lucien Vanserra was taking her out for a good time, good food and good company. She had the right to enjoy herself.

And yet, the guilty feeling lingered in the pit of her stomach, even as the doorbell rang.

Feyre was tired of waiting.

She’d been in his room for an hour, and there wasn’t much to do. The only personal things of Tamlin’s she was able to find were a few family pictures and magazines of old cars and medieval weaponry.

After the sun had finally set, she finally came to the conclusion that Tamlin was not returning any time soon.

So, she left.

People were dancing and grinding and hiding in corners with one another. Her boyfriend was nowhere to be found, not to her surprise.

She wasn’t sure she even wanted to witness Tamlin in such an environment.

“Excuse me. Coming through. Excuse me.” Feyre made her way through the crowd of dancers and oncoming intoxicated underaged drinkers until she was out of the door, in the front lawn.

If inside was crazy, outside was utter chaos.

Red solo cups were a necessity to fit in. The cloud of smoke Feyre walked through when finding her way around the corner had her in a coughing fit. And Tamlin –

Tamlin was in the center of it all.

The backyard was lit with string lights, and a crowd of people were taking advantage of the music in the air and alcohol in their systems.

Tamlin was in the middle of the grass, a girl grinding on his backside, and another on his front.

Nausea brewed in the pit of Feyre’s stomach as tears began to sting her eyes. Why had he asked her to come if he was only going to keep her away, while he was doing this?

If this is what his duties entailed, Feyre wanted nothing to do with it.

Although, if she wanted nothing to do with it, then why did it hurt so bad?

Feyre didn’t hesitate before turning on her heels, and heading toward the street. She removed her heels, so she could move quicker.

“Asshole,” she mumbled, under her breath, just before halting. “Shit.”

She’d left her purse.

In his bedroom.

Turning around, reluctantly, Feyre grasped her black high-heels as she trudged back toward the front door of the fraternity house.

“W-Who is this beautiful lady?”

Feyre froze as a man came up behind her.                                                      

No, not a man…..men.

There was one on both sides of her, the smell of beer tumbling off their tongues.

“Excuse me,” Feyre said, taking a step forward.

But a hand reached out, and grasped her wrist.

“I’ve seen you around campus,” the bigger one smiled. “You’re….You’re b-beautiful.”

“D-D-Don’t h-harass her,” the other smiled, predatorily. “She looks l-like a screamer.”

Her heart sped up, threatening to beat out of her chest. “Let me go.”

“Cute,” was all the latter one said, grazing a finger down her cheek. “Trust me, I’ll s-s-show you a-a good t-t-t-time.”

“Let her go.”

The pair stopped, and the bigger one slowly let go of Feyre’s wrist.

They turned around before she did, though she could sense their fear as she, too, turned to her savior.

The breath in Feyre’s throat caught at the sight of him.

He looked like – like the night, if the night could be a man. He didn’t seem much older than Feyre, in his all black clothing, perfectly fitted to his sculpted body. His hair was dark, too – the only thing Feyre was able to see under the dim reflection of the porch light were his deep, lavender eyes.

He was beautiful, in every sense of the word.

“You can step back, walk away, and never come within spitting distance of her again…..or I will report you, and you can spend the rest of your life begging for change.”

Feyre hadn’t even finished loosening her breath before they had sprinted off.

The stranger smiled, nodding his head toward the assholes. “Don’t worry. I’m reporting them anyway. Can I escort you somewhere, um….”

“Feyre,” she whispered, unsure of why her confidence had not returned. She couldn’t figure him out. Couldn’t pick up on why he had done what he had done when he looked like one of Lucifer’s own.

A dark, beautiful fallen angel.

“Hello, Feyre.” He stepped further into the light, his eyes becoming fierce with his devilish grin. “I’m Rhysand.”

Chapter 3 coming soon.

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[botanistlester]

Sweet Pea (5/?)

Summary: A nickname that goes bitter in your mouth. Cries for help that no one listens to. Gentle hands that make you quake on the ground you’re standing on. When Phil first met Nico, he thought he was a gift from the heavens. But behind the mask lies something daunting, something unnerving, that Phil never foresaw. Through his journey, he finds solace in Dan, the regular at his workplace, who seems to be the only one who sees through Nico’s mask to the darkness underneath. Warnings: Abusive relationship, violence A/N: The lyrics at the beginning are from the song Such Small Hands by La Dispute! This chapter contains light violence (grabbing), drinking, and mentions of throwing up, so please be safe. As always, thank you to @littlelionsloves and @snowbunnylester for editing this for me. I couldn't have done this without them. And thank you to you lovely people for reading this! It means the world to me that so many people look forward to this story. i love you all. xoxo Previous | Masterlist

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-

Chapter Five

I think you saw me confronting my fear, it went up with the bottle and went down with the beer. And I think you ought to stay away from here. There are ghosts in the walls and they crawl in your head through your ear.

-

A month into their relationship, it was just like any other ordinary Tuesday. Phil woke up, went to class, and forgot to eat breakfast. He got shaky due to low blood sugar, and had to buy some McDonald’s to stop himself from shaking. His classes were filled with friendly chatter among friends, and sweet text messages from Nico.

Nico x - 12:53 pm

Hi sweet pea. Ill bet you look gorgeous today

Nico x - 1:07pm

You know youre the most beautiful man ive ever seen?

Nico x - 1:08pm

Cant wait to see you later <3

It was enough to glue a grin onto Phil’s face, so bright that he was sure it was going to blind every living person.

Tuesdays were one of Phil’s least favourite days of the week. He hated how it wasn’t the start of the week, and also wasn’t the end of the week. Tuesdays made Fridays seem so much further away. They were the day that nobody talked about, the day that Phil had a three hour long class to attend.

But this Tuesday turned out to be one of the best he’d ever had.

Phil and Nico had plans to hang out. It wasn’t anything special, at least it wasn’t supposed to be. But to be honest, Phil thought anything to do with Nico was pretty special. They were supposed to just hang out and watch movies, maybe even play a little Rock Band even though Phil was horrible at it.

That was just what they did. They went out to eat after class at a nice tamale place right off of campus. Phil had never had a tamale before, didn’t really know what it was, but Nico was gracious as he explained how to eat it, his feet gently playing with Phil’s under the table. After eating, they headed back to Nico’s apartment, where they first watched some Gravity Falls and then moved onto Over the Garden Wall when they got tired of it.

Then came the Rock Band. It was just as horrible as Phil had thought it was going to be. His voice cracked as he sung, unable to hit the high notes, and Nico was cracking up at him as he played the guitar. Phil didn’t understand why he had to be the one to use the microphone, but Nico only claimed it was because he sounded cute, and they continued playing.

It was Nico who said it first.

Phil was singing a horrendous version of Through the Fire and the Flames, failing horribly and making a fool out of himself. The crowd was going wild, booing him, getting angry at all of the notes he missed. He sounded like a dying goose and he was fully aware of it from the giggles that left Nico’s mouth as he hit nearly every note on the guitar.

Eventually, Phil’s crowd booed him so hard that he ended up being kicked off, and he pouted as he set the microphone down, resisting the urge to throw it against the wall.

“That’s not fair!” he whined, glaring at Nico as he quit to the main menu, snickering all the while.

“And why isn’t it?” Nico asked, clearly amused. He brought a slender hand to Phil’s fringe and pushed a stray piece back into place.

“It’s unfair that they judge you by how your singing sounds! As long as you hit the notes, it shouldn’t matter how you sound!” Phil crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at the offending game. Perhaps he was over exaggerating, but he didn’t particularly care at that moment.

Nico laughed and leaned over to press a kiss to Phil’s cheeks. His lips were cold against his warm face, and it cooled him down only slightly. “That’s just it, sweet pea,” Nico said gently, and ran a hand through Phil’s hair, ruffling it into more of a quiff. “You weren’t hitting the notes.”

Phil gasped aloud and glared at his boyfriend, slapping him on the chest. How dare his own significant other make fun of him for such a thing! “You take that back!” Nico snickered and shook his head. “I hate you!” Phil whined because Nico was evil and he definitely hated him.

“Well it’s a good thing I love you, then,” Nico told him softly, and Phil’s heart stopped. Stuttered. Accelerated.

His shock must have been evident on his face because Nico reached out and smoothed the lines on Phil’s face with such a soft expression that it made Phil’s chest hurt. He couldn’t believe that Nico had said something like that, especially so casually, as if it was obvious in the first place. Of course, Phil had been thinking about terms like ‘love’ often the past few weeks, but he hadn’t expected Nico to say it so soon. Not like he was complaining though. He could feel the pull in his bones that made him fall into Nico’s arms, making him kiss along Nico’s cheekbones, along his jawline.

He breathed into Nico’s skin, breathed in his cologne, tried to imprint it into his memory.

At the time, he believed he could stay there forever and be completely and utterly content. With that thought in mind, he closed the gap between their lips and kissed Nico deeply, trying to convey how he felt through the touch. They kissed passionately, nipping and licking into each other’s mouths, until Phil was sitting in Nico’s lap.

When he pulled away for air, he leaned in close, kissing the shell of Nico’s ear. He wondered if his voice shook when he spoke, if it showed just how nervous and excited he was. “I love you too,” he whispered. “Forever and always.”

Nico smiled against his lips. “To death do us part,” he replied quietly, and they sealed it with a kiss, a promise to continue loving each other until their hearts give out. And when the kiss got more passionate, more daring, Phil didn’t really mind.

That night, they made love for the first time, and Phil couldn’t help but shed a few tears because he felt so completely and utterly loved beneath Nico’s fingertips. He gasped and moaned and sobbed, and Nico held him close all the while, whispering how much Phil meant to him, how he’d die if Phil ever left him, into the skin of his thighs and the nape of his neck.

Phil didn’t know why they hadn’t done this sooner, but he wasn’t one to complain when he felt so amazing that he could barely formulate the words. So instead, he stayed quiet and basked in the feeling of Nico loving him to the fullest.

When it was all over and done with, Phil decided that perhaps Tuesdays couldn’t be that bad after all.

-

“Come to a party with me.”

Phil sighed and grimaced, shaking his head. He didn’t look up from where he was writing lecture notes in his cactus-themed notebook. “Nico, you know I don’t like parties,” he said flatly.

Nico pouted at him, and when Phil still didn’t pay him any mind, he leaned forward across Phil’s desk, making Phil draw a line through his originally beautiful page of notes. Phil scowled and tried to shove Nico off, but it didn’t do anything for him.

“Please? We always do the things you wanna do together. Can’t we just go to a party for once?”

At just the mention of parties, Phil could already feel himself breaking out in a nervous sweat.

He hated parties with a burning passion, hated them more than anybody could ever understand. Alcohol, drugs, loud music, and large crowds never made for a comfortable Phil.

“I dunno, Nico. Parties make me really nervous.”

“Please, please, please?” Nico whined, refusing to move even as Phil tried to shove him off again. He was lucky they were in a large lecture hall, otherwise Nico would have been in trouble with the professor. Now, he was only getting glares from the students surrounding him. “We never do anything I want to do.”

“If you get off my notes and shut up, I’ll go to the dumb party with you,” Phil hissed, poking Nico in the face.

Nico nodded happily and backed off, giving Phil a little sideways smirk that never failed to make Phil swoon. Damn it, even when Phil was mad at Nico, he can’t seem to stay mad.

-

The party arrived far before Phil was ready for it.

It was a Thursday night, which made Phil whine a lot. Partying on a Thursday? He was going to be absolutely wrecked tomorrow. But Nico scoffed and told him it was ‘Thirsty Thursday’ and that if he didn’t party today then that automatically make Phil lame. Phil wasn’t lame, damn it.

A little bit before the party started, Phil couldn’t help but start freaking out, just because that’s what he did best. He didn’t know what to wear to something like this, much less how to act, so he complained a little bit as he went through each individual item of clothing. Button down? No, too fancy. Band tee? Too casual. Tank top? Phil might be able to get away with it.

He put the shirt on, combining it with a pair of whitewashed shorts. The tank was just a superhero shirt with a bunch of different DC characters on it, and he always liked it because it was nerdy but flattering. Just like him (minus the flattery).

When he walked out of the room to show Nico, he struck a pose. “Do I look okay?” he asked nervously, wringing his hands to stop himself from tearing his hair out.

Nico stood up and made his way over to him. He groaned, putting his arms around Phil’s neck and pulling him down to connect their lips in a less-than-innocent way. “You’re so sexy, sweet pea,” Nico growled, sounding a bit overprotective. He ran his hands all over Phil’s chest until they were skirting up Phil’s shirt, caressing the pale skin underneath.

Despite the nervous energy going haywire throughout Phil, he somehow felt himself getting turned on. Maybe it was because he was so nervous that every touch made his body feel electrified, that he found himself kissing Nico with more vigour until they were undressing Phil once more.

Nico kissed him all over, made marks over his collarbones, made sure to claim Phil as his. Phil couldn’t exactly complain, not when it was feeling so amazing that he temporarily forgot about his anxiety. They had sex and each of Nico’s moans were like music to Phil’s ears. He wished they could just stay inside and do this the whole night, but he knew his wishes wouldn’t be granted. Not that night at least.

When they finished, they took a moment cleaning themselves back up before Phil started to get dressed again in his previous clothes. Nico stopped him before he could pull the tank top on. “Wear a different shirt,” he told Phil, seemingly nonchalant.

Phil was confused and he cocked his head a bit, furrowing his eyebrows. Hadn’t Nico said he liked this shirt? Or was he lying? “Why? I thought you said I looked sexy.”

“That’s the problem,” Nico whined, kissing Phil’s naked shoulder and pouting at him. His green eyes were big and wide and he batted his eyelashes to make himself look prettier than he already was. “You’re too good looking! I may just have to ravish you again as soon as you put it back on. Besides, I don’t want anyone to take you tonight.”

Phil cooed and pecked Nico on the lips, unable to help himself from smiling. His boyfriend was far too sweet, always looking out for him no matter the circumstance. “Fine. But you have to decide what I’m wearing. I don’t want to spend another twenty minutes looking through my clothes.

It took approximately twelve seconds for Nico to pull out a shirt, a purple v-neck that Phil hardly ever wore anymore because it showed some of the hair on his chest. But Nico convinced him in a soft tone that he would look amazing, so he didn’t argue and just put it on. They had to leave anyway.

The walk over was filled with complete and utter anxiety from Phil. He couldn’t stop himself from fidgeting with everything he possibly could. A thread from his shirt, his hair, the choker dangling from around his neck. He fiddled with everything.

“Stop fretting so much,” Nico told him softly. He was texting on his phone, not even needing to look over at Phil to know that he was freaking out. Phil envied him for being so composed, even in moments like these.

Phil bit his lip and words came out of his mouth before he could tell the words to stop. “Can I hold your hand?”

Just like the first time Phil had asked about PDA, Nico seemed to turn to ice. His lips pressed together and he gave Phil a once-over that made him wondering if he had something disgusting on his shirt. “You know I have anxiety, sweet pea,” Nico told him carefully, in a warning tone almost.

“But I do too, Nico,” Phil pleaded. He held his hand out, trying to catch Nico’s hand in his own, but it was snatched away before he could fully grasp it. “Please? Just this once?”

Nico was shaking his head, and he put his hands in his pockets, out of Phil’s reach. His eyes were focused on everything but Phil, it seemed, and Phil could feel himself start to shrink in on himself, already accepting that his idea was an unfair one. He should never have asked Nico to go out of his comfort zone. “Stop asking me. The answer’s no, Phil.”

Not ‘sweet pea’. Not ‘love’. Not even ‘sweetheart’. Just Phil. That was probably what struck Phil in the heart most of all. He didn’t even reply, just went completely silent and refused to speak for the rest of the walk.

But that’s okay, because Nico didn’t try to talk to him either.

Soon enough, they came to the house. “Don’t lose me, okay?” Phil asked fretfully as they entered the house. The music was already so loud that it swallowed up his voice, and the only reason he knew Nico had heard at all was because of the tiny nod sent his way.

Their hands weren’t entwined like Phil desperately wanted, but he’d long since accepted that Nico wouldn’t want to hold his hand in front of their peers, so it didn’t surprise him too much. Instead, Phil found himself gently clasping the back of Nico’s shirt as he followed him through the crowd, trying desperately not to lose his boyfriend.

They found themselves in the kitchen soon enough, drinks being shoved into their hands. It got Phil to loosen up a bit, his head feeling a bit light and his shoulders less tense. Nico was speaking to a group of his other classmates, Phil standing behind him listening. He didn’t speak because he didn’t know if he would be capable, the alcohol sitting heavy on his tongue and making his eyes droop slightly. He watched with a slight smile as Nico threw his head back and laughed, that smile that Phil loved so much making an appearance.

He wanted to kiss those lips so bad, but he stayed firmly in place. He didn’t want to make Nico uncomfortable with his public displays of affection.

“I gotta piss,” Nico said to the group, pointing his thumbs in the opposite direction down the hall. “I’ll be right back.”

Phil stood up straighter, taking a few steps forward to follow Nico. Just as he did, a shoulder knocked into his own and sent him flying backwards, his head smashing into the wall and his beer spilling all over his shirt. He cringed in pain, his head spinning, as he tried to regain his balance. But then, disoriented, he looked around, expecting to see Nico, only to be greeted with a blank space next to him. In a panic, he looked around the room, trying to find that familiar head of curly hair, and found him at the end of the hall, nearly out of sight.

“Nico, wait up!” he called over the crowd, watching with growing panic as the brunette disappeared down the hallway.

Phil cursed, wiping off his soiled shirt with his hands and not caring that they got all sticky with beer. He started to stumble after his boyfriend, the room swaying around him, and he found himself falling to his knees puking into a potted plant instead. There was a bitter taste in his mouth and he could hardly believe he’d lost his own boyfriend.

Who the fuck does that?

He puked once more, gagging on the taste, and sat back on his feet when he was done, wiping his mouth off with distaste. He couldn’t believe he’d just puked in a potted plant.

“Hey man, you okay?” A voice asked behind him, a hand appearing on his shoulder.

Phil jumped out of his skin, whirling around to find a familiar looking guy with a curly brown fringe and brown eyes filled with worry. Phil didn’t know why he was familiar and he gaped for a moment, trying to figure it out.

It was when the man’s eyes widened and he gasped out a, “Phil?” that Phil realised this was Dan. The Dan who was Phil’s regular at work.

“Dan!” Phil slurred, standing up to his full height and, before Dan could protest, he brought him into a large hug. Dan was warm and stiff with shock, but Phil was too out of it to notice, pulling away after a moment to grin at him. “What’s up, mate?”

“Er-,” Dan stuttered, his cheeks turning red with a blush and his eyes flitting around the room. “What are you doing here? Do you need help?” He gestured to Phil’s shirt and Phil laughed, waving him off.

“‘S nothin’,” Phil told him. “Have you seen Nico?”

“Nico?” Dan echoed, confused.

Phil nodded and he furrowed his brow. “My boyfriend. He disappeared and I can’t find him.”

Dan shook his head and watched with growing concern as Phil stumbled forward, catching himself on Dan’s arm for support. “Do you, uh, need some help finding him?”

“Yes! You’re an angel!” Phil exclaimed excitedly, nodding his head until there was black hair in his eyes. He blinked it out of the way with frustration.

They started searching then, with Dan supporting a much-too-drunk Phil on his arm. Phil didn’t even have the right mind to be embarrassed that his own customer was seeing him in such a state. He didn’t really care about anything other than his lost boyfriend and the spinning room at the moment. Dan was quiet as well, a strange feat in itself as Dan was usually weirdly loud and flirtatious whenever Phil served him.

Once again, Phil didn’t pay any mind to it. But Dan did, leading Phil to a sofa in the corner of the room, and forcing Phil to sit down.

“Let’s just sit for a bit until you feel better, okay? Then we can find Nico.” Dan sat beside Phil, a tiny bit too close, but Phil didn’t mind. Dan was warm, and he liked warm. He melted into the touch.

“Oh Nico,” Phil sighed dramatically, resting his head on the back of the couch. He smiled, that same warmth emanating from Dan making a home in Phil’s belly at the thought of Nico. “He’s wonderful isn’t he? He always takes such good care of me.”

Dan shuffled a bit next to him, and he was probably uncomfortable, but he was listening to Phil anyway. What a great man. Phil was glad to know someone as nice as Dan. “Is that right? Tell me about Nico, then.”

“He’s just… I love him!” Phil exclaimed, pushing himself up from the couch in his excitement. A friendly and gentle hand on his wrist kept him from standing up, instead forcing him to sit back down. Phil slapped his hands on his lap to show just how much he loved Nico. “He’s so wonderful, Dan. I don’t think you understand, okay? He has these nice freckles that are like constellations and these pretty green eyes. He kisses like a God. We’ve only been dating for like a month and a half, but I could probably marry the guy.” Turning to face Dan, he stared into his soft brown eyes as seriously as he could muster. “Get you a man like that, Dan.”

The comment made Dan chuckle and rest his head in his hand, staring at Phil with amusement in his gaze. “Sounds like I definitely need a Nico in my life, then. I’ll make a note of it.”

This admittance caused Phil to rant a little bit longer about how wonderful Nico is and about how lucky Phil was to have him in his life. He knew that there was no way he could live without Nico by his side anymore, as a best friend and a lover. He’d become codependent on him already.

But halfway through his speech, Phil stopped. His eyebrows furrowed and he glanced around the room, looking for the man of his affections. “Where is Nico anyway?” he asked Dan as if Dan knew the answer.

Dan frowned, seemingly concerned. “I’m not really sure, tbh.”

Phil began to panic, tugging at his hair. His hands began to shake. “Where did he go? He promised not to leave me here. He promised!” He started to get irrationally angry, flames building in his chest until he couldn’t contain them anymore. He put his hands on Dan’s shoulders and shook him, a noise almost like a wail coming from his throat. “Why did he leave me by myself?! He knows I don’t like crowds!”

Panic flitted across Dan’s face and he gently removed Phil’s hands from his shoulders, petting them. “We’ll find him,” Dan promised, squeezing Phil’s hands gently. “For the meantime, I’ll stay with you. I won’t leave you alone.”

There was an actual halo on Dan’s head, a light surrounding him, Phil was absolutely sure. He was an angel God sent from heaven, made specifically to bless Phil in all of his endeavors. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was in this moment to have someone like Dan looking out for him. He was so glad, in fact, that he started to tear up and had to wipe his eyes with his palm. “That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” Phil said emotionally.

“Hey now, don’t cry,” Dan laughed, patting Phil on the back.

“You’re just… too good to be real.” Phil gasped, putting his hand to his mouth, eyes wide as saucers. “Are you real?”

“I can confirm I’m real,” Dan assured him, and Phil let out a disappointed ‘damn it’ because he kind of wanted Dan to be a ghost. That’d be cool.

Suddenly, a hand appeared on Phil’s wrist, gripping so hard that Phil let out a confused whine. He was yanked from the couch, out of Dan’s grip, and turned to look at his attacker with squinted eyes. It took him a moment for his eyes to focus, but when they did, his face lit up. “Nico!” Phil squealed, ignoring the twinging pain in his wrist from where Nico was holding onto him. “I’m so sorry I lost you, I didn’t mean to, I swear.”

Nico wasn’t looking at him, his eyes instead narrowed at the space beside Phil. He was glaring at Dan, something akin to a challenge in his gaze. “You trying to fuck with my boyfriend?” Nico asked, venom in his tone.

Phil shook his head and put his hand on Nico’s chest in attempts to calm him down. Nico slapped his hand away. “He was trying to help me find you,” Phil assured his boyfriend. “He wasn’t trying to do anything weird. We just sat down cause I puked in a plant.” He started laughing hysterically at that, like it was the funniest thing he’d uttered all day, but Nico didn’t seem amused. In fact, he seemed a bit disgusted, looking Phil up and down as if he was inspecting him for any sign of puke on him.

“Why did you bring him here, dude?” Dan asked after a moment of silence. Both Phil and Nico turned to stare at him, but Dan didn’t back down. He was taller than Nico, but at the moment, Phil couldn’t help but think that Nico seemed much bigger in stature. “He’s clearly terrified of parties. So why’d you drag him here?”

Nico stared at Dan long and hard until Dan was shuffling uncomfortably and breaking eye contact. Phil cocked his head, confused about what was going on and sluggishly trying to keep up. “We agreed it would be fun to go to a party today. As a couple.” With that, Nico dragged Phil into him, an arm around his waist, one that was a bit too possessive. Phil was too drunk to notice.

Dan scoffed and shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. He was glaring at Nico, absolutely glaring, as if venom could seep into his gaze. “Right. Because he’s so obviously having fun. When I found him earlier, he was a right mess.”

“Hey!” Phil exclaimed, pouting.

“Stay out of this, sweet pea,” Nico growled, and the nickname was back, this time sounding like a way to tell Phil he was serious. He drew himself up and made himself bigger than Dan - somehow - until he was nearly looking down on him. “Who are you to tell me how to handle my relationship?”

Shaking his head, Dan let out a disbelieving snort. “I’m just saying, mate. If a stranger can tell that your own boyfriend isn’t having a good time, maybe they’re a better boyfriend than you ever were.” Phil gaped at Dan, the comment somehow sobering him up, and Nico went completely tense beside Phil.

He was silent for a good while, staring at Dan, looking him up and down in disgust. Phil couldn’t believe he had two grown men fighting over him. His drunken brain was ecstatic. “Phil, we’re leaving,” Nico said finally, after a few moments where he didn’t talk.

Phil’s brief excitement came to a halt. “What? But I just made a new friend,” Phil interjected, whining like a child being told they had to leave the park. Why did Nico want to leave all of a sudden? Wasn’t the party his idea after all?

“We’re leaving,” Nico ordered in a dictatorial tone, leaving no room for arguments.

Phil sighed and nodded, turning to grin widely at Dan. “I guess I’m leaving, then,” Phil told him as if Dan hadn’t been there the entire time. “Thanks for helping me find Nico. I’ll see you back at LaBella’s, okay?”

Dan grinned and nodded, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. His gaze was flickering between Phil’s face and the hand wrapped around Phil’s wrist, an uncertain expression flickering across his face. “I’ll see you around, Phil.”

Tugging harshly, Nico started to manhandle Phil away from the party. He whined a bit, complaining that Nico was hurting him, but Nico didn’t listen. He didn’t loosen his grip until they were a few blocks down the street, the music fading into the night sky. Only then did he release Phil’s wrist, which Phil immediately rubbed at. He could still feel the fingers pressed there, ingrained into his skin like a tattoo, and he pouted.

“That hurt,” Phil muttered again, stumbling after Nico. And then, “I’m sorry.” He didn’t even know what he was apologizing for.

Nico scoffed. “You deserved it,” he said under his breath.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Do you think I don’t know what’s going on, Phil?” Nico hissed. He wasn’t looking at Phil, seemingly trying to avoid glancing at him. “I could see the way he looked at you. Don’t try to act all innocent when you’re at a party acting like a fucking slut.”

“I- what?” Phil spluttered. This was too much for his drunk brain and he tripped and fell, his hands catching himself on the pavement. His palms burned where the cement cut him, blood starting to slowly seep from the wounds. Nico continued to walk as Phil tried to stand up by himself.

“You were going to cheat on me with that fucking loser,” Nico said matter-of-factly.

“No I wasn’t! I wouldn't do that!”

“Well you certainly look like you’re asking for it.” The comment made Phil look down at what he was wearing. He frowned deeply. He was only wearing a purple v-neck and skinny jeans. What was wrong with that? “Your shirt and tight jeans make you look like such a whore, Phil. I’m disappointed.”

“I didn’t know you didn’t like this outfit,” Phil whispered. “You’re the one who picked it out.”

They were coming to Nico’s apartment now, the lights inside notifying Phil that his roommate was home. He was slightly embarrassed to be seen in his drunken and upset state, but Nico didn’t seem to care. He pushed open the door and led Phil inside, straight to his room. He didn’t pay any attention to Phil as he stumbled up the stairs behind Nico, and he certainly didn’t pay attention as he stormed past his roommate and into his room, a quiet Phil with bloodied hands drunkenly following.

Once inside with the door closed, Nico nodded at his shirt. “Take it off,” Nico instructed.

Phil gaped at him. “Why?”

“Because I hate that shirt,” Nico snapped.

The harshness of the tone made Phil’s mind begin to buzz. His drunken brain didn’t quite understand what was happening, and he suspected that was the reason he didn’t start crying right then and there. When Phil made no move to remove his shirt, Nico stepped forward and Phil didn’t know why he flinched as Nico reached for him.

Instead of grabbing him directly, he grabbed Phil’s shirt, a hand on each side of the collar. His eyes were dark as he tsked, and Phil stared back in confusion.

All of a sudden, Nico was pulling.

It took far longer than he should be proud of for Phil to realise what was happening.

One moment, he had a perfectly nice v-neck shirt, and the next moment, the shirt was ripped in half and falling from his shoulders.

“You- you ripped my favourite shirt!” Phil choked out. He was more shocked than anything, his eyes so wide that they stung. He could hardly believe what had just happened and he didn’t know if this was something his drunken mind had conjured up in his sleep.

Instead of answering, Nico just took the remains of Phil’s shirt and threw them under the bed. He wouldn’t meet Phil’s eyes. “Let’s go to sleep,” he said.

In his shocked and drunken state, Phil didn’t argue. His hands were still bleeding. His head was absolutely killing from the knock he’d taken earlier. But he was far too exhausted, too confused, too upset to think about cleaning up. Instead, he fell onto the bed like he was welcoming his lover and let the sweet darkness of sleep take him.

-

They woke up in each other’s arms. At some point in the night, Nico had given in and curled around Phil, his head nestled into Phil’s neck. The gentle puffs of breath over his skin tickled, but Phil didn’t complain because he was too happy that Nico was finally paying attention to him again.

“I’m so sorry about last night,” Nico said when they woke up in each other's arms. “I must have drunk too much. I hardly even remember anything.”

Phil laughed it off, albeit a bit uneasily, nursing his headache with a cup of too-sweet coffee. “It’s okay, we both must have been rather out of it.” Phil smiled over at Nico and Nico smiled back. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” Nico murmured, swooping in and pressing a soft kiss to Phil’s lips.

The gesture made Phil melt, and he almost even forgot about his hangover. Even though he did end up missing his Friday morning class.

Chapter Six

[spacemilkies]

some domestic ben sleepy smut would be fab. love your writing !!

pairing: established!ben x reader 

summary: “Sorry for waking you … making it up now.”

a/n: i actually managed to write this the day before. but typically i’ll just skim whatever i have in my inbox for smut requests for the thirsty thursday theme. this is queued to post as will most of them be just in case i forget. 

“Hm, Ben?”

It’s a groggy guess, but you’re too vulnerable to worry about it being anyone else. You were funny like that when it came to sleep. When interruption factored in to your schedule, there wasn’t much you are willing to trade for a few more hours of rest. Robbers be damned.

But it’s Ben.

You can tell from the expensive cologne he pretends not to see how you notice. Even when you’ve caught him reapplying it in the middle of a lazy lounge day. As routine you don't comment, because teasing might have adverse effects. As an overall consensus, you both agree that it is the one thing you’re grateful to Sir Hargreeves for.

The spicy after tone is fading from your sheets, but you’re pleased to accept another coat of it in your bed, welcoming your boyfriend with open arms. Ben sighs in relief at the absence of your wraith, happily curling into your arms.

Underneath the hints of cinnamon, you find a bit of copper and brimstone. As if the late hour wasn't enough of an indicator of where he’d been. Once upon a time ago, these late night visits had been an indicator of what kind of aftermath he was reeling from. Ben was more likely to appear in need a comfort, briefly staining the floors of your showers with blood before sneaking under your sheets.

Now he seemed to appear anytime he could find the opportunity. Instead of complaining, you’d had just made him a spare key and listed off your security code without blinking. Later you would consider how the two of you had sped through relationship stages over the course of one night without proper conversations.

But with Ben, things were easy like that.

Even when life made it look like the chaotic precursor of an apocalypse.

There is an apologetic glimmer in his eye that you sleepily thumb away against the roundness of his cheek. You refrain from blinking too often, certain that you were one away from chasing dreamland again.

He nuzzles into your touch and you hum thoughtfully in consideration,”Want to talk about it?” The shake of his head is expected and you roll  with it, already piecing together a sugary sweet breakfast of chocolate and maple. You’d accepted the role of ruining his diet quite early in your relationship. Just witnessing the visible joy of his taste buds as you swallowed your homemade banana fosters.

You haven't realized it was such a coveted secret and forbidden amongst his siblings until you’d casually brought it up and had been interrupted by an impromptu kiss.

Fingertips stoke the cage of his ribs, rising and falling with each even breath. You don’t detect obvious tension, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t gotten good at hiding it. If it had been a grueling fight, he would have exhausted himself to sleep by now. There was something else lingering on his mind.

Your thumb makes another rotation against his skin,” Sure you have nothing to get off your chest?”

He catches you by the wrist, bringing the curve of your bone to his lips. “Sorry for waking you.”

You know dismissal when you hear it.

With a sigh, you accept it, rolling onto your back to try to regain any semblance of sleep. You might not pry verbally, but your conscious would end up wasting away the night trying to piece together the mystery that was your boyfriend.

You don’t hear his answering exhale, but you do feel the shuffle of sheets. Your brow furrows in confusion at the fleeting touch of his hand against your lower belly. Its when the wet swipe of his tongue follows it that you nearly jump out of your skin.

Ben is there and ready, his forearm bracing against your pelvis to keep you in place. You definitely squirm anyway.

Fisting the top of your duvet, you yank it up to unveil Ben’s half lidded gaze. “What are you doing?”

He splits his sentence between kitten licks and small nibbles. You feel him at your inner thigh now, and you have a better idea of just what he was thinking this time around.

“Sorry for waking you … making it up now.”

If you weren’t delirious before, you’re close to experiencing it now. He’s using his shoulders to keep your legs apart while he noses against the stitch crossing of your stretch marks. Everything is less hurried than you’re use, but somehow still delivers similar effects.

Ben is warming you up, kissing against your mound with gentle affections. You’re suddenly reminded of his hoodie that you’re swallowed in. It was once a vessel of comfort but now it was leaking into the role of a furnace.

You helpfully lift your legs how you can, as he slid your panties from your legs and discards them. Its an unhurried melting burn when he licks into you  for the first time. Your hips make one more rebel thrust before sinking into your sheets.

Every roll of his tongue is measured yet not holding an ounce of his teasing nature. It’s completely indulgent on your part, completely set on fulling his promise. He’s so close, the exhale of his nose managing to add to the stimulation as it tickles your core.

The rhythm is wet but not in the distracting way. It's more like running a marathon than a race as is drags you under towards exhaustion. Ben is cashing in every tip and quirk he knows about you, suckling at you until you keen quietly.

You’re starting to believe that he’s planned this down meticulously to the second, no matter how outrageous it sounds. But it makes since when the increased pace lines up nicely with the tension pulling in your loins. Your body is swollen with need and on the cusp of bursting, once against forgetting about his restrictive arm when you try to grind up into the flat of his tongue.

He has you there before you realize it, hand circling around your back to cup your backside. Ben adds leverage to your arch, bringing you in closer to swallow down. He has every intention of clearing your thoughts and putting you down for the night.

It’s not as thunderous as you remember it beginning, it's more like a low tide lapping at your ankles before rushing forward in a single swoop. It flattens you against the bed, taking your body and squeaks under as you shudder in its depths.

You’re still trembling from the aftershocks when he sides up against you, drawing you close and tucking you under his chin. When he slides a knee between yours, you're not met with hardness or want. It helps to keep you under, letting you selfishly ride the mood into slumber.

Ben kisses your cheek and then nestles against your ear.

“We’ll talk in the morning.”

And with that declaration, you welcome sleep with open arms.

[daddyconfessions]

daddy’s journal: 3/23/16

daddy’s journal 3/16/16

Monday Mar 7th Even though Firecracker and I had ended things, I woke up feeling pretty good. I’d thought I’d be miserable all day. All week even. But nope.

About mid morning, Pops (my boss) walks into my office. “Is your report ready?” I told him it wasn’t ready yet. “Come on. I need you to get it done. I want to read over it before we submit it.” The Board of Directors were meeting Wednesday and I had to submit my departments report. I don’t’ have to present to the board. They just take my report and read over at some point, if at all. But, if they have questions one needed to be ready to answer. I barely even worked on mine since I I thought I was getting fired all last week. Pops chewed me out about it. Then said, “Get ‘er done. By the end of the day.”

Lowkey I had kind of been looking forward to the layoff. I’d much rather be in the San Francisco eating some Italian food with Antonia. Or, smoking some good weed down in L.A. Fucking around on Venice Beach. Definitely wanted to turn up in in Hollywood.  Oh well. Its all for the best I suppose.

Tigress texted me in the afternoon wanting me to meet her. “We can just meet for drinks,” she said. “Something informal. I know you’ll like me once we meet.” Old chicks can be thirsty when they like you. Its a big difference from dealing with a young 20 something. I told her I’d get back to her but never did. It was all good though. It kept my mind off FC. I still had questions about why she was acting weird the past 4 weeks and then ended things. Lots of things just didn’t make sense. In a rare moment of bitch-assness, I felt I needed closure. Time to consult the Oracle.  

Tuesday Mar 8th Firecracker texted me that morning to tell me to have a nice day. It was going to be raining really bad and I needed to be careful. WTF? Is this chick playing games or what? Definitely got to consult the Oracle later tonight.

Pops came by my office again. “Is your report ready?” he asked. I told him I was putting the finishing touches on it. “Good,” he said. “We’re deciding bonuses tomorrow too.”

My mouth dropped. “I thought we wouldn’t be getting bonuses this year?” I asked. He chuckled and asked, “ Why not?”  I told him with the downturn and all the layoffs I figured we wouldn’t have one. He smiled: “All the layoffs increased revenue. We all think the Board will be happy with the actions we’ve taken. We have our core staff now and the sentiment is we need to send a message to everyone. We should have some good bonuses this year.”

We talked a bit more and then he left. I set back like

I went from getting laid off to getting a bonus? I was kicking myself from being paranoid. Then I thought about all the people that had lost their job and how I was benefiting from it. It was bittersweet. Corporate America...cold af. I decided to spend a little extra time on my report tho :)

That night I called the Oracle and told her everything about FC. “You know you’re not going to believe this,” she said. “But sounds like your girl is or was pregnant. I told you about my abortion before. I did all the same shit. I cried my heart out. Quit talking to every man in my life but my daddy.” I laughed out loud.

“Now it all makes sense,” she continued. “ The last time you were together she was crying. There’s only a few things that would make a strong chick cry to a man. Especially given your situation. And the way she was crying it had to be something pretty serious. I thought it was another guy but nah. This chick was pregnant. I’m telling you, I did the same shit. I got pregnant and I was mad at every dude I was talking to, even the ones I wasn’t talking to anymore. Nah she didn’t have a STD. Her ass was pregnant.”

I told her that was pretty far fetched. I mean, the Oracle usually gives good advice and 95% of the time she’s right. I think this was one was falling into the 5% range. The Oracle was like, “Think about dude. Put everything in perspective. She kept missing your dates. Then when you met, she cried like a baby. Needed you to give her a big hug. Then the next week she suddenly needs money. The amount she asked for sounds about like the cost of an abortion. Then she comes up with this discharge stuff and how she’s going to the doc and she’ll have to see you later.

“Then the next day she orchestrates the breakup. I’m telling you, she just needed an excuse to put you off. She was really playing you to let her symptoms clear up. Sounds like she went to the doc and realized she couldn’t have sex for several days after the abortion. And wtf happened to the money she needed? Mom or Dad probably gave her the money for the abortion. Or the dude she was pregnant by. And you better be glad you been wearing a condom. If it was your baby trust me she would be keeping it. Dude...give her about 2 weeks. She’ll be back. I put that on everything.” The Oracle went on with her read telling me how FC probably feeling pretty miserable and how after the abortion and things cleared up she’d feel like she got her mojo back. “My advice is to just pass on FC when she comes back around. Just concentrate on Bubbles.”

I had to admit it was the only thing that fit into the strange behavior, if nothing else explains the big crying spell she went through. Still it was pretty fantastic. I told the Oracle if FC came back I’d give her $100. She laughed. “Dude. Go ahead and give me my money now. This chick is coming back. I’m telling you.”

Then I admitted FC had already texted me today saying to say have a nice day. She was like, “Yea that $100 I’m getting may nails and toenails done...maybe I’ll put that on some shoes.....” We ended the call and I felt a sigh of relief.

Jynx texted me right before I went to bed. “Don’t forget about me daddy,” she said. Truth was I had forgot about her with all the FC excitement. But with FC gone I suddenly had more time on my hands. I texted Jynx back and told her I’d see her next week.

Wednesday March 9th Board of Director’s meeting. I put on a suit and got to work early. Not my one of my tailored ones. Some of the rack stuff. Had to down play my image a bit. If I got called into the BoD meeting I’d be ready tho.

However, the hours ticked by and nothing but closed doors and muffled voices from the Executives. Meanwhile, Tigress had been texting me. Still pushing to meet. She was a persistent little monster. And confident. I liked that shit even though I was really interested. But, with Firecracker out of the picture, I had a little free time.  I text her back and told her we could meet briefly that afternoon at Starbucks. By then the board should be done. She agreed.

A little bit before the meet, she texted “Can we meet at Alvin’s for drinks?” I told her I preferred to meet at Starbucks. “Well I’d prefer to meet for drinks,” she said. WTF? Now she’s been difficult. So I replied, “Do you want to meet or not?” We kept it at Starbucks.

Tigress was a pretty good looking woman. Definitely old enough to be some 20 year olds mother. She still could hold her own tho. Old cougar -- fucking with a young guy like me.  “I didn’t mean anything by wanting to change and meet for drinks,” she said. “I just had a little more time this afternoon and figured we could have drinks.”

“We can do something more formal next time,” I said. “I just wanted to get this meet out of the way.”

She smiled. “I’m used to getting what I want. So when you asked me if I want to meet or not, that kind of turned me on. I’m not used to a man being like that with me. “ I smiled back. “There’s not a lot of men like me.”

We talked for a good 30 minutes. Tigress was older than me but never said how much. She has her own house. Her kids are teenagers and decided to go live with their father so she’s in the big house all by herself. I told Tigress I was sorry for being so hard to schedule with. She told me she had a feeling about me. “I don’t know,” she said. “Its just something about you.” I was like, “How’s that? You hadn’t met me. We’ve only texted.” She was like “Yea, but you can tell how a person says things. Their word usage. Nah. I knew I had to meet you.”

We ended things with promises to meet again soon.

Thursday March 10th The board meeting went good. I didn’t get called into answer questions or anything. Overall the board was happy with the way things were going. Things were looking good at work.

I was leaving work for the day when the Payroll manager called me to her office. We’ve been cool since I started working there. Tight like frog’s ass. She let me know I was getting a bonus and how much it would be. I was like

I was in a pretty good mood when I pulled up to the restaurant to meet Bubbles. Firecracker picked the wrong time to break up with her sugardaddy. Bubbles was inside waiting when I got there, wearing some cute little denim one piece, hair up in a bun and what not. “Oh I love your outfit,” the hostess told her as she grabbed a couple of menus. She gave Bubbles the once over. I swore it was some lowkey lesbian shit. Appropriate since Bubbles is bi-sexual. The waitress wasn’t bad looking herself. For a moment I imagined what it would be like if we all got a room together.

“I’m sorry for cancelling so much,” B told me. “I’m feel so bad for doing that to you.” I told her not to worry about it. She grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “I really like you,” she said. “And that mouth of yours. Oh my god.” We both laughed. We talked for almost an hour about everything. I brought up the subject of an allowance again. “I’m still open to giving you an allowance baby. Something more structured than per meet. If you want to keep doing per meet that’s fine. But I’d like to really help you out. Maybe I can help with your rent and stuff.” I almost said pay her car note, but then I remembered that old bucket was paid for.

“That’s perfect babe,” she said. “I quit my job.  Well I didn’t really quit. I just didn’t go in one day and I haven’t been back since.” I asked what happened. “With you, my friends and my son, I just couldn’t keep up with it.” She grabbed my hand again. “I defnitely want to spend more time with you. I want to do more. See you more than once a week.” I smiled. It all sounded good to me. But curiously she never said she accepted the offer. I let it ride for now. “Let’s get out of here babe,” she winked her eye. “Let’s go have some fun.”

I got the check, paid the waiter and we were on our way. “Bye,” Bubbles told the hostess as we left. The hostess was like, “I love your hair like that. Its cute.” I better get Bubbles out of there before these two chicks start tribbing.

Bubbles had parked near the door. We talked about her following me to the hotel but I gave her the address instead.  Her trying to follow me in her car was torture. It was slow as hell and she’d always get stuck at a light when following me. As I looked at the car again, I figured it probably wasn’t a good idea to be looking at Celine bags for Bubbles. Shit I’m thinking the bag probably cost more than her car. Later for that one.

I was in the room waiting by the time she showed up. We were both kind of tipsy so the clothes just seemingly fell off us. I spun her around and made her crawl onto the bed. I crawled on behind her and starting licking that kitty from the back.

She came quick and literally collapsed on the bed in front of me, her body and a steamy pulp. While she was out of it, I flipped her over and went back to work, sharing my knowledge with that clit. I sucked it while I licked it. “Fuck!” she yelled. “Eat my pussy!” And ate it I did.

She grabbed my head and as she came she squeezed it tight. Her orgasm were always violent IMHO. Her back arched up off the bed and her body contorted like she was in the Exorcist or some shit. She let out this long moan and then went limp. I stopped for a bit to let her gather her faculties. I started licking again. “Baby you eat my pussy so good,” she said. I put my hands under her little ass and lifted her up so that the kitty was level with my face. She started gyrating, rubbing that wet muff all in my face. Before long she was coming again. She let a long “Ooooooooo god“ and started convulsing again. I let her down on the bed while she grabbed her breast and squeezed the nippples. “Shit.” she growled.

I let her rest for a few minutes before I went all Moses on her again and parted the pink sea. The kitty was tight as usual. I went in slow at first and surprisingly I was able to get most of Bart in. “Fuck me,” she yelled. “Please.” I went to work, half scared to give her the full onslaught. We got a pretty good motion before she stopped me. I think she’s sort of paranoid that I might actually hurt her somehow. After a baby though? That kitty is ready. “Let me get on top,” she said suddenly.  “Are you sure?” I asked but she was already pushing me off her. “Seems like that might be more painful.”

I let her get on top she and she actually got Bart in pretty far. But she doesn’t know how to ride dick. It was kind of funny watching her bounce up and down but not actually putting the dick inside her. It was the weirdest shit ever. She was just making a bunch of movements. I almost burst out laughing from the shit. Sometimes I love the sugar bowl. I grabbed her hips and guided her down on the dick to help out.  “Oh fuck,” she said. “That feels good.” That did the trick. Not too far down, just enough to make an impression. She came again. “Shit,” she said. “I didn’t expect that.” What the hell was she expecting? She tired to get up but I wouldn’t let her. “Get you another one,” I instructed her.

“Huh?” she asked. “Get you another nut baby,” I repeated. She frowned and said, “I can’t baby. I’m done.”

I took her by the waist again and made her go up and down on Bart. She took over, and started riding him, yelling all kinds of expletives. “Fuck. Shit. Jesus. Damn.” Then she came. This time she jumped up off the dick and just laid on me. I kissed her neck and upper body while she grappled with the pleasure in her body.

“Babe you always  make me cum,” she said after a moment. We kissed and then she stopped and got wide eyed again. “Fuck I’m cumming again.” She raised up on her knees and started rubbing her pussy violently. “Oh God!” she screamed. I thought she was about to squirt the way she was rubbing that clit. NO sooner had she started then did she stop. Her head and neck was twitching and her eyes were going back in her head. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it. I got some good dick but I can’t really take credit for this stuff.

I let her rest for a bit then tried to get her back on me for my final climax but she wanted me to finish in her mouth. I’m starting to think she like this shit. I relaxed and let her finish me off with some of that cranium.

We both laid there and fell asleep for a second before one of our phones went off. We both jumped up realizing the time. I needed to get home to the wife and kids and she needed to get home to her son. We freshened up, got dressed, and said our goodbyes.