#sarah on exchange semester

[delicatetaylorsversion]

Ride the pride in Helsinki 🏳️‍🌈

[tieronecrush]

secret santa

dbf!joel miller x f!reader

summary: your parents throw a christmas party every year, and this is your first time in the “adult” secret santa exchange. the last few times home, you’ve found joel, your dad’s friend, staring a bit too long, flicking away when he’s caught. for the game, of course, you get joel’s name. and you’re going to make sure it’s the best gift he’s ever received.

rating: E

wc: 5.6k

warnings: daddy kink, age gap (sorry folks but i did want to try my hand at dbf!joel lol i pictured him around 50, reader around mid-late 20s), alcohol consumption, mentions of food, distant relationship with parents, party, christmas, gift giving, secret santa game, bit of deception on reader's part just to get joel alone, lingerie, body worship, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, restraints (using clothes/undergarments), daddy!joel, soft!dom joel, praise, a few instances of degradation, dirty talk (as always)

a/n: (images in moodboard do not convey what reader looks like, only the vibe! no descriptions of reader) my first dbf!joel…milestone moment lol <3 hope y’all enjoy my take on the dbf trope! and tysm to my babies for beta-ing @northernbluess and @kiwisbell love you both 😚

dividers by @saradika

Twenty years. This same godforsaken party has been happening every December for the last twenty years of your life, full of overserved middle aged parents, and never has it been less enjoyable than since you’ve been an “adult”. An adult still treated as a child, chastised, fawned over, always told to follow the golden rule. No, not treat others as they wish to be treated. Your family’s golden rule was speak only when spoken to.

And your father was the enforcer. Always required you home for the party, even away, out of state for college, away for the semester studying abroad halfway across the world. You were flown home and called upon to do the heavy lifting — groceries, liquor runs, cleaning the house, decorating to make it all feel magically festive.

At times, it felt like Cinderella had nothing on you. At least she had a prince.

The only time that this party has ever been remotely improved was when Joel Miller moved into the neighborhood. He’d snuck in under your radar due to the fact that it happened the few months you were living abroad, but coming back for the party and Christmas break, you were quickly introduced to him by your father. His new “best friend”. One among many. Each serving a unique purpose to get your dad ahead.

Upon meeting Joel, you were drawn to him immediately. Skeptical over the fact he found company with your dad, but much to your surprise, he was different. Maybe lonely and looking for a friend; you’d found he was living alone, his adult daughter, Sarah, in her final years at the University of Chicago — a choice that was hers but Joel admittedly feared, you learned. He only encouraged her, regardless of the fact he was anxious about losing his kiddo.

Not the same sentiments your dad had when dropping you off to school in the farthest, cheapest corner of the country you could find. He was nearly jumping up and kicking his feet together in glee to get you out of the house.

Joel, though, Joel was kind hearted and patient. He was curious and caring, asking you about school, work, your life every time he saw you over the years. Warmth radiated from him despite his more shy demeanor. Comfortable. You felt so comfortable with him.

Which is what made the smallest of lingering glances or the slightest of smiles turned smirks that much more exhilarating.

Maybe you were being naive or projecting your burning desire for him onto every interaction, but as you stitched yourself tighter into Joel’s life over the years, you haven’t been able to help but notice him checking you out at times or slipping a subtle flirty comment into conversations between the two of you. You would give it right back, and that would usually pump the breaks, bringing things back to surface level.

There was one time this past summer, after a neighborhood barbecue that your parents left early from, that you and Joel really had a moment. It was loud, music drowning out the back and forth you were having to the point where you couldn’t quite make out every word, and Joel must have felt the same because he made sure you heard his next words clearly — “Do you want to go somewhere quieter?”

Agreeing immediately, he pressed his large hand into the midpoint of your back, guiding you out of the confines of the party and to the open air of the street. He led you to his place and around back, pulling two lounge chairs next to his pool closer to each other.

That night, thanks to the alcohol buzzing in your system, you confessed more about your home life and your feelings around it. Joel was surprised, given the picture-perfect image your father paints for everyone, but he was comforting as always. Even as far as offering you his spare room if you ever needed a break.

That’s when you knew you were done for. Never in your life had you wanted to just kiss someone that badly. Let alone all of the thoughts that came along with it.

Harboring this crush for your dad’s friend, fifty plus and a father himself, you attempted to keep things growing closer when you came back. Friendly, polite, reciprocating any amount of flirty banter he threw your way. Even initiating it yourself.

You were so incredibly into Joel Miller. And returning home this time, you decided it was high time you acted on those feelings.

The noise of the bustling party dies down enough for your dad to introduce the game, as if the attendees haven’t been participating for nearly as long as you’ve been alive. But your dad loves the attention on him, cracking jokes that make you roll your eyes while everyone else gives him a laugh. Always so focused on himself. How everyone else sees him. Image obsessed enough to forget to assign anyone as a Secret Santa to his own daughter but not forgetting to give her someone to gift to.

Granted, you weren’t that upset about who you’d drawn.

Watching from afar, you see Joel survey the empty space under the tree, only the deep cherry red skirt laid out on the hardwood. Nothing for him. Everyone opens their presents, laughter and excitement bubbling across the room as the point of the game begins. Partygoers start to guess their gifters, hoping to nail down their Secret Santa in one go. Conversations are struck up as people meet their pair, ‘thank you’s exchanged along with the gifts. Joel observes from his spot with a few of your neighbors, also friends with your dad, and the sight of him shifting his weight on his feet is enough to draw up the courage to approach him.

Crossing the room, flashes of him checking you out, lingering in conversations with you about work and your new apartment in the city, seeking you out each time you visit home flood your mind, reassuring your choices the closer you get to him. The closer you get to completely jumping into the deep end, the last few steps teetering you at the edge.

Slowing to a stop next to him, a finger of yours gingerly taps his strong shoulder a few times, pulling his attention away completely. Joel turns his body to face you, away from others to solely focus on you in front of him. The subtle sign of his attraction to you has your nerves tingling, clearing your throat when he speaks up in greeting.

“Hey there, sweetheart. Y’alright?” he asks, eyebrow raised. Always so goddamn sweet.

You sigh, a tinge dramatic but attempting to sell the dismay and toying with the flute glass in your hand. “Lame surprise, but I’m your Secret Santa and I stupidly left your gift upstairs. It’s a bit obnoxious to bring down so d’you mind coming up to open it and you can grab it at the end of the night?”

Joel agrees with a jolt of nervous excitement down his spine. Shuddering out the feeling subtly, he clears his throat and nods, awaiting your lead. He thinks he catches the slightest drag of your eyes up and down his body, lingering at the expanse of his shoulders and the sliver of his chest that is exposed from the two undone buttons of his red flannel.

When no one’s paying attention, you bring Joel upstairs into your old room that you’re staying in while you’re back in town for the holidays. He stands around a bit awkwardly, sticking out like a sore thumb with his broad shoulders stretching his red flannel, thick thighs straining deliciously against the perfectly worn material of his Levi’s. Stark against the frilly softness of your room, with its bright white furnishings, and feminine touches. He’s all man. Nothing like the guys your age who think they’re like him.

Joel glances about the room before he asks, “So, what was so difficult to get under the tree, sweetheart? You didn’t have to get me anything so major.”

“I wanted to. I mean, noticed you eyeing what I got you for a while so figured the least I could do was give it to you…” Joel’s face twists up in confusion, perplexed by the riddled clue before you’re standing in front of him, reaching to the side of your plaid skirt and dragging down the zipper. Joel stutters out nonsense at your actions, lifting his hands in surrender.

“Doll, I think—you don’t—” His mumblings die in his throat when you drop the material to your ankles, revealing red satin panties. When you turn around, a bow sits at the top of your ass, tying up the material to stay on your hips while elasticated bands run along the outline of your cheeks to connect to the crotch. Very little of your bum is covered, showing off the supple flesh to Joel. He’s rendered speechless, averting his gaze after a second too long of staring, the mumblings starting up again.

“S’not a good idea, shouldn’t be up here right now…” Joel looks around, looking over his shoulder toward the door. One of your hands reaches up to gingerly cup his chin, turning his flushed face to yours again. His pupils are blown wide, eyes darkened with desire. Your own gaze flicks down between the two of you, smirking at the bulge growing at the crotch of his jeans. So desperately trying to fight against what he really wants. Even when you’re serving it up in a pretty little package.

He makes no movement toward the door, which you take as a sign of letting go of at least some of his apprehension. Fingers grip the hem of your sweater, pulling it up and over your head, discarding it on your carpet along with your skirt.

Matching red satin material, the bra you’re wearing has a similar structure to your panties. Held up with straps and the usual clasps at the back, the front is a large gift bow, pulled tight when you tied it earlier this evening to push up the flesh of your breasts. One tug at the tail end of both the ribbons, the one at your chest and at your ass, would fully expose you to Joel. Something you’re desperate to propose to him.

“Aren’t you gonna unwrap your present, Joel?” Picking up each of his hands in yours, you guide one to your lower back and one to your chest, coaxing his fingers to wrap around the ends of the bows. “Or do you not like your gift? I thought you wanted this…”

“No, no, no. I like it. I really fucking like it, sweetheart, I just…Everybody’s downstairs and—”

“I can be quiet. I’m a good girl, Joel.”

That flips a switch in him, hearing those words from you. His eyes darken further, pink tongue poking out to wet his lips. A burning stare combs over you, head to toe, alighting flames in your gut that lick against your insides. Heat crawls across the back of your neck, pooling in your collarbone, and craving oozes between your ribs and between each of your vertebrae. Joel’s right hand lifts from his side, skating up the length of your left arm and leaving goosebumps rising in its wake. Fingertips ghost over the strap of your bra, down to the center of your collarbone, and sitting there. That lasts only a second before his long, thick fingers wrap around the base of your throat, raising his loose grip to settle underneath your jaw.

The silence is heavy, airy breaths the only sounds passed between the two of you. His hand at your neck coaxes your head to tip back, staring up at him looking down at you. A flicker to your lips. A low, curious hum. Arousal pools in between your thighs as you wait with bated breath for something, anything to happen.

“You’re dangerous, doll.” His whisper is coated in lust, his gaze greedy as it drinks you in once again.

“I’m a gift,” you correct sweetly, feigning innocence as a smirk grows on your face at his dark chuckle.

“A gift that keeps on giving?” he questions. His hand twists to allow his thumb to find your bottom lip, dragging across its glossy, cherry surface.

“I guess you’ll have to find out…” Your mouth stays open after speaking, tongue slipping out to lick the tip of Joel’s thumb. He presses his finger further, pushing between your lips as you welcome it, sucking gently. Joel sighs, shoulders relaxing while his eyes flash with need.

“Christ…” he hisses under his breath, shaking his head subtly before clearing his throat. Speaking sternly, unwavering, he says, “Can I unwrap my present, babydoll?”

His thumb leaves your mouth with a quiet pop, hand finding its place again at the slack of the bow at your chest, other arm wrapping around to find the bow at your ass. A gentle tug moves the satiny smooth material a few centimeters, not enough to pull it fully undone.

“All yours, Joel. Picked out ‘specially for you.” Joel smirks at your candied reply, eager to give him exactly what he’s been wishing for. What you’ve caught him staring at the last few times you’ve come back home. What you have been wanting for just as long, if not longer.

“Such a sweet girl. Beautiful girl.”

The words send a tingle down your spine, stoking the flames inside of you. Your eyes stay trained on Joel’s face while his fingers draw the bow at your chest undone, the lengths of material hanging at your sides and exposing your breasts. He licks his lips at the sight of your pebbled nipples, rolling out a stifled groan from his chest.

“Fuck, baby…S’pretty.”

Joel’s hands fan across your lower back, holding your hips against his, pressing his bulge into your covered mound. His broad frame folds forward, draping you backwards in his arms as his mouth attaches to your chest. Humid, open-mouthed kisses are littered across your skin, nips taken at the tender flesh of your breasts. Closing his lips around one of your nipples, he sucks strongly, pulling a whimper from your throat.

“Thought you could be quiet, doll?” he rasps, raising an eyebrow as he looks up at you from your sternum.

Nodding furiously, you pout your lower lip out, whispering back, “I can be, I will be. I promise.”

“You promise? Don’t make promises you can’t keep, baby.” Joel stands up straight, pulling you with him to press against his torso. Catching your lips in a deep kiss, Joel breathes a sigh into your mouth, melting his tongue against yours and drinking in the taste of you.

Dripping with saccharine sugar. Coated with syrupy goodness, plump and succulent like a maraschino cherry. A toothache, or maybe even a heartache waiting to happen.

He’s fucking screwed, but damn if it doesn’t feel good as he nails himself to his own persecution from whoever may find out about this.

Handfuls of your undulating curves fill his palms as he kisses you, groaning into your mouth as he grabs at the swell of your ass. Silky satin brushes against his hand, reminding him of the other part of his present to unwrap. Pulling away from your mouth with one last lick of your candied taste, he has the mind to imagine what the rest of your flavors all across your body might be.

Joel turns you in his arms, back flush to his chest as he grinds his bulge against the lustrous fabric, smirking to himself as you whimper quietly, so hushed he can barely hear it over his heartbeat thudding in his ears. Lips coast over the shell of your ear, nibbling your lobe before pressing a kiss right below.

“Can I undo your other pretty bow, babygirl? Unwrap the rest of my present?” Joel nips again when you breathe out consent. He walks you closer to the bed, hitting your knees against the frame before he takes one step back, touch still lingering on your skin. From behind you, he sighs appreciatively as he drinks in your form, licking his lips as his eyes devour you.

Pinching the ribbon between his thick fingers, he flicks it against your skin, satisfied with the way you react with goosebumps raised. One gentle tug unravels it all, exposing your cheeks to him fully and with the drop of the material from between his fingertips, your panties fall to the floor. One hand wrapping around your thigh, Joel coaxes you to step out to the side with it, kicking the fabric from your ankle.

He kneels behind you, pressing his lips against the swell of your ass. Flooded with the scent of your skin, vanilla and cinnamon, the smell of Christmas. Nose smashed into the supple flesh, teeth sinking into the curve, a gentle bite stealing another taste of you. A curse is mumbled against you, a sweet kiss pressed on the tiny birthmark on your ass, tongue tracing into the fading bite mark.

“Joel…” you whine above him, hand reaching back and nimble fingers tangling into his messy, gray curls.

“I know, doll. Got lost there for a second. You’re so perfect…”

He sighs again, standing up with a quiet crack in his joints. A blatant reminder of the difference between you two. Young versus old. Sprightly versus verging on doddering. Even if he is eager, there’s no denying the difference.

There’s no doubt in your mind that Joel’s about to be more of a gift to you than you are to him. The way he’s touching you, delicate worship before he’s even gotten to what he truly wants, taking his time despite the pressure of the party downstairs. Serves as a reassurance that he wants this as much as you do, wants to take his sweet time if this is going to be his only chance.

You pray to god it isn’t. Even before you’ve even laid eyes on his cock, you just know. He’s going to fuck you senseless. Ruin every other man for you.

In a blur, he guides you to fall forward onto the mattress, hooking fingers to remove your panties from your other ankle while you scoot toward the center. He finds solace between your legs, propping your hips up into a kneeling position to give him easier leverage. 

“Think this might be my favorite present I’ve been given, doll. So fucking gorgeous. Looking delectable…Can I have a taste, darling? You as sweet as you seem?”

Your head is turned sideways, laying against the plush comforter, opening your mouth to whisper to him in the same moment he swipes his tongue through your folds, groaning into your inner thigh before he dives back in, working to devour you like a man starved, quenching his thirst on your arousal. Flicking his tongue against your pearl, coated in your translucence, suckling at it with pure need. Turning to press the front of your face into your bedding, it muffles your moans and whines, raising in pitch as he fucks your tight cunt with his strong tongue, lapping at you with the same fervor he’d lick the color from a candy cane.

“Fuck, Joel, fuck fuck fuck!” you shout in a scouring voice, scratching your vocal chords together with a strain. Curling your fingers into the softened, washed fabric, you gasp when one of his solid fingers slips into your walls. He groans, holding back his louder reaction to your gripping walls, hypnotized by the way you even stretch around his fingers when he adds another.

Head against your thigh, he studies the way you take his middle and ring fingers, the velvety slick of your pussy, and the spongy spot he finds, curling his digits to press into it and watch you squirm helplessly from the sensitive pleasure.

“Talkin’ all well mannered and pretty. So quiet and polite all the time. With your ‘yes’sir’s and ‘please’s and ‘thank you’s. You think about saying those to me while you’re under me like this?”

“Yes, yes’sir. All the fucking time. Every time I—I looked at you, felt myself…felt myself gettin’ so fucking wet. Was always dripping around you, waiting for something to happen. For you to take me so I can be a good girl for you, sir,” you confess, obedience and need sitting every word so prettily into his ears. “M’so—Fuck m’gonna come, Joel.”

He nods slowly, taking last looks at your cunt before he moves his fingers in and out quicker, dipping his chin down for his mouth to find your clit against, lapping at your dripping wetness and sucking hard. At the next press of his fingers against that spot inside of you, your vision grows blurred, white haze painting everything with a dreamlike filter. You bite into the linen fabric of your comforter, gagging yourself to keep quiet as you come, digging the balls of your feet to the mattress to push yourself away from Joel who continues to work you through it. He grabs at you, tugging you back to get his fill until you sob, overstimulation drawing tears up to the corners of your eyes.

“All kept and composed and ladylike. Been taught to behave, haven’t you? Bet you fucking love to be such a little slut. Anybody ever let you? Such a dirty girl, aren’t you, babydoll?” Joel’s voice sounds distanced at first, senses falling back into place in your body as you come down completely. His work-worn hands coast over your body, roughening against your soft skin like sandpaper moving with the grain. Little resistance but catching in places it favors.

“Just—Just for you, Daddy.” It slips out smoothly from your mouth, the weight of the title heavy against your tongue in the same way you imagine his cock would feel. Filling. Satisfying.

Joel rises slowly from where he’s bent behind you, letting one leg fall behind him as he stands, the other propped on the bed. His eyes narrow in on yours, lips parted and tongue darting out as he replays what you said.

Daddy.

First, you’re already on his mind and years younger, yet he couldn’t stop picturing you in this exact position. Next, you’re the one to make the first move, dragging him away from this Christmas party and presenting him with a Secret Santa gift that feels way out of the budget. You’re priceless. And now, you’re laid out for him, already nearly at the level of fucked out from him only using his mouth and fingers, and you’re fucking calling him Daddy.

Best Christmas of his goddamn life.

“Now, darlin’, were you saving that to be the cherry on top of the cake? ‘Cause that’s just about the sweetest thing. My pretty lil’ babydoll saying she’s Daddy’s dirty girl,” he scoffs in disbelief, shaking his head while his fingers work his button open on his jeans, dragging the zipper down against his throbbing bulge. “Gonna have to be quiet, yeah? Gotta keep your sweet mouth closed while Daddy fucks you, doll.”

“I’ll be quiet, promise. Please, Daddy.” Your pleas widen Joel’s smirk, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips once again. He pushes his denim down with his cotton boxers in their wake, sighing softly when his hard cock is fully freed. His tip is aching and red, leaking precum and leaving a wet spot on his underwear. With one hand, he starts to slowly stroke himself, holding in a moan enough that it leaves his lips as a soft exhale.

“Good girl…” he mumbles, studying your form. “Move back toward me, babygirl. Hands behind your back.”

Complying with his direction, you inch back until Joel places a hand on your lower back. At that, you lay forward again, the side of your face pressing against the duvet as Joel steps back from the bed and searches the floor. A dribble of drool drips from the corner of your lips as you watch him, one large hand around his cock, spreading his precum along his length. Part of you has the mind to beg for him in your mouth, to completely disregard the need pulsating your cunt at the moment, and to feel his warm spend coating your throat as he finishes fucking it.

But you’re fucking selfish. This is also a gift for you, so win-win.

Pressing your wrists together at your lower back, you observe as Joel locates what he is looking for, standing up with a devilish smirk. Your panties.

He towers over you again when he steps back to you, one hand coasting over the curve of your ass, a gentle smack delivered that makes a quiet yelp escape from your lips. The same hand skims back up your skin, easily grabbing both of your wrists in his long fingers and holding them closer while he slips the silky material behind. In a quick motion, he has your arms tied together with a bow, a content smile on his face as he makes eye contact with you.

“Wrapped all up again, babydoll. Such a pretty gift for me.”

“Well you’ve got a pretty package, Daddy,” you reply with a mischievous giggle, earning a breathy chuckle from Joel behind you. He grips the knot of your makeshift restraint, tugging taut to arch your back and pull your hips closer. His other hand wraps around the base of himself, dragging the head of him through your drenched folds, circling your clit, and chuckling again at the jump of your thighs.

“Please, Daddy, I need—” you start pleading, muffled into linen before you’re cut off by the stretch of Joel’s cock filling your tight hole, a gasp escaping your lungs with a punch. Your mouth is stuffed with the duvet from your bite down, nursing your tongue against the material as he slowly presses into you, inch by inch. There’s an ever-so-slight pain candy-coating the pleasure, melting away to get to the gooey, oozing center that spreads over your entire body.

Pausing when he reaches the hilt of himself, Joel sighs, rolling his head back as he internally thanks whatever Christmas magic must be out there for this moment.

“So fucking tight, baby.” 

Your dampened whine shoots a wave of intense need throughout him, growling low as he holds your restraint tighter, dragging his hips back before he starts a punishing pace. Control escapes him, desire taking over his actions as he starts to properly fuck you. His cock teaching you how to take every single inch of it.

Messes of his name and your moans are stifled and stuttered into the comforter gagging you, chest hovering over the mattress as Joel holds tight to the knot in your panties.

“Can’t hold back any longer, baby, jus’—fuck—jus’ gonna take Daddy’s cock like a good girl, aren’t ya?” The only precision remains in the soft cracks of skin on skin, not loud enough to draw any attention from the party downstairs. Poppy carols play faintly in the background, the only other soundtrack being the vulgar mumbles slipping from Joel’s lips.

Drawing you closer and closer, the edge is tasted on your tongue, so close but barely in reach as the man behind you rocks his hips, the tip of his hard cock brushing that same spongy spot inside of you that he managed to reach with his fingers, bruising into your cervix with each snap.

At the next drag-out, Joel pulls away from you completely. When you whine with protest, he’s tugging you to stand up on your knees, whispering in your ear amid his quick movements, “Need to see your face when I make you come all over my cock…”

Before you can be left with any thoughts to a response, he’s flipping you onto your back, hands tied still, and tugging you near again. He steals a pillow from the top of your bed, shoving it under your hips to lift your pelvis, gifting himself the perfect angle to thrust into you again from the height he stands at.

The new angle punches out moans from your chest, Joel’s name littering the empty room as you try so hard to remain quiet.

“Shh, I know, doll, I know. Feels so fucking good, doesn’t it? Y’love bein’ Daddy’s little slut.” Nodding furiously, another louder moan leaves your mouth, brows knit together with worry as you hurtle closer and closer to the edge.

A large palm moves to cover your mouth, shaking his head slowly to remind you of your promise to be his good girl, his quiet girl. 

“Pleasepleaseplease, Daddy…” He feels the vibrations of your voice against his hand, the words muddled into slight nonsense from pleasure clouding your brain. Joel holds onto one of your legs, pulling it up to hook onto his shoulder and press forward to get deeper inside of you. The switch has you screaming into his palm, eyes squeezing shut as you squirm under him.

“Eyes on me, babygirl. Keep your eyes on Daddy.”

Joel’s hips pound into you, chasing his own climax. Your eyes snap open at his instruction, mouthing at his hand and moaning loudly behind it, nodding your head furiously. Your tight walls squeeze around his hard cock, his grunts held back to keep quiet despite the noise of the party downstairs growing in volume.

“Come on, doll. Come on my cock…Fuck, you gonna let Daddy fill up your pretty little cunt?” The quick, speechless nods answers his question, both of you toeing the edge.

There’s a moment when both of you seize up, muscles tense and eyes burning into each other’s. It only lasts a split second before it explodes with a pop, at the same second a champagne bottle pops downstairs. Joel breathes out your name, over and over, mingling with your whimpers of his name and Daddy switching back and forth in your mind. Interchangeable to you.

Pleasure fizzes over your bodies like bubbles in the flutes being filled, the bubbling aerations trickling up up up to your head, making you feel lighter than air as pure bliss overwhelms you. Tingles aftershock across your nerves, a shiver sent down your spine as Joel pulls out.

Quietly, he groans as he watches his excess spend drip out of you, mixing with your come and glistening against your folds. One thick finger swipes at the spot, pushing the swirl of you back inside of your walls.

A soft whimper slips from your lips and Joel’s eyes meet yours in a flash, a gentle smile stretching across your face. He coaxes you to sit up and unties your hands behind your back, slowly massaging your wrists with his thumbs and kissing where the skin rubbed against the fabric. The tender touches accompany the soothing, comfortable silence.

Redressing you, Joel attempts to tie the bows of your bra and panties, huffing softly in frustration. You giggle when he’s working on your bra, taking his chin gingerly between your fingers and turning his head to look at you. Leaning in, his lips catch yours in a sweet, sugary gumdrop kiss. 

It’s another moment before both of you are fully dressed again. You study yourself in the mirror above your dresser, smoothing your hair down. Joel steps up behind you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and kissing your shoulder through the knit sweater. He turns you around to face him again, grinning shyly as his eyes comb over your face.

The two of you share another kiss, his calloused hand cradling your cheek when he pulls away.

“You gonna be under my tree again on Christmas day, doll?”

“Depends…Were you naughty or nice this year?” you counter, earning a quiet laugh from Joel as he shakes his head.

“Think what just happened has put me on the naughty list for a long time, babygirl. And you, too.” He shoots you a cheeky wink and you laugh, shaking your head as you lock your fingers together in front of you.

“I did actually get you something though…” you admit shyly, rocking back and forth on the heels of your feet.

Joel grins, eyes flicking down to your anxious hands. His thumb brushes against the skin of your cheek, eyes meeting yours again as he replies, “You have another gift for me? Didn’t need to do that, doll.”

“I mean…Kinda needed a backup plan if this whole thing didn’t work out.” A chuckle is shared between both of you before you continue, “Sorry for spoiling the whole guessing game of Secret Santa.”

“Darlin’, you could spoil any games for me if it ends up with this kinda surprise.” Joel smirks before stealing another quick kiss, pulling away when you step back to fish out the small, meticulously wrapped giftbox from the top right drawer of your dresser.

Handing over the square package, Joel’s eyes glitter with boyish excitement. The corner of his mouth pulls up to one side while his thick fingers slip under the creases of the paper to rip the tape, undoing the festive wrapping to reveal the lidded giftbox that he opens quickly. Inside, Joel studies the contents. Small triangles with rounded corners made from thin nylon plastic. A deep emerald green, all sitting like precious gemstones. His initials are branded into one side with gold paint, the flip side emblemed with the silhouette of an owl.

“Sweetheart…Thank you. These are real nice…” he speaks softly while he picks one up between his index and thumb, turning it between the tips of his fingers. “They’re perfect. Gonna be sad if I end up losing one of these like all my other picks.”

You smile sweetly, stepping closer again and resting your hands on his biceps, “Guess you’ll have to take good care of ‘em.”

As he looks at you, he mirrors your smile, sharing one more gentle kiss before whispering against your lips, “Can think of another something I have to take good care of.”

taglist: @atinylittlepain @swiftispunk @joelsversion @mrsmando @ilovepedro @lovers-liability @deathwife @undrthelights @atticrissfinch @casa-boiardi @wannab-urs @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @fishingforpike @msjarvis @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sugadolly @yazsos @peppesgirl @pastawench @addictedtotlou @brittmb115 @anoverwhelmingdin @spishsstuff @wolfbook87 @mswarriorbabe80 @harriedandharassed @decemberdolly @laiisleitte @fierce-bab @vickie5446 @pertinentpostmortem @livingdeadmaria @sullyosully @bitchwitch1981 @its-nebuleuse @marini03 @piercethevic03 @joeandpedrosimp @planet-marz1 @txtattoostark @jrosie25 @thereaperisabitch @tbniarq @vee-bees-blog @spidermanfrog @belliezz @joelsflannel @cartoon-garbage04 @bianqueee04 @nostalxgic @xyzstar @cumberpegg @b00klvrs @burningnerdchild

[mystic-writings]

remember the nights | chapter fourteen — a rom-com happy ending

WORD COUNT — 2,841

WARNINGS — pure fluff, weddings

NOTES — i can't believe it's already over :( well, not really bc this series will always live in my head, way into their college years, but for now this is the end <3

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter

Ever since your Uncle Mark started staying in the guest room and wedding prep picked up even more, your house was never quiet. Between final food tastings, organizing the tables and stationary, plus the horrendous amount of extra schoolwork you were dealing with due to a new semester starting up, life never slowed down. 

Things at school got better, so long as you ignored Newt in any way, and focused on your college applications and spending time with Brenda. Plus, your uncle Mark made sure to spend all his extra time with you, since you hadn’t seen him in two years. 

He and Maggie’s brothers got along well, and made the house extra vibrant as everyone got to know one another over game nights and dinners. The very first night you’d met them — Maggie’s brothers, George and Dean — they embraced you lovingly, claiming that Maggie had always wanted a daughter. 

Valentine’s Day started with a bright dawn and a calm air, and you could tell even with the cold that it was a beautiful day for a wedding. The day started early, at around 5am, with Maggie shaking you awake, offering you a toasted waffle and travel mug of coffee. The house was void of men and instead filled with the women of the bridal party, all running around and getting ready in different parts of the house in order to have things done on time. 

Everyone had their dresses in different places, and you and a woman named Sarah did each other’s makeup in your bedroom by the desk before taking turns getting dressed and finding your purses, accessories, and proper coats. 

Maggie was already on her way to the church in just her makeup by the time everyone was ready, leaving you to lock up the house and pile into one of the three cars occupying the driveway. You texted with Brenda, Harriet, and Sonya on the car ride, talking about the reception happening later on. 

You and Thomas were allowed to bring your friends to the reception (with Brenda and Jorge being the exception, as they were invited to the ceremony), something that your parents agreed upon not long after they told you about the proposal. Since the bonfire, though, the group was shattered, and you really only talked to the girls for now. Thomas was inviting everyone else who wanted to come, though, so you’d see everyone there, anyway. 

One thing you did notice, through the bustle and stress of the wedding and finals, was that your friends had been acting odd, to say the least. Thomas was the same, but every one of your friends were exchanging an unsettling amount of smiles and glances — not just the girls, but Gally and Minho, too. You’d even asked them about it one day, but they all refused to give you an answer. 

You shook the thoughts from your head and texted the girls to update them on where you were. They were all excited for the wedding, and you were, too. Everything about this day had felt spectacular so far, and you couldn’t wait to actually see Maggie and your dad get married. 

The church was empty for now, but you and the girls all filed into the bridal suite, where Maggie sat, pinning up her hair into the most elegant style you’d seen. Since her hair was neck length and wavy, it was difficult to get her hair into a style that looked nice. However, she managed to take some strands from the front to frame her face, while still having the majority of the upper half of her hair pinned back with pearl beaded pins, her waves still flowing free. 

You almost cried at how wonderful she looked, before realizing it was up to you and two other bridesmaids to help her into her dress. 

If you hadn’t been emotional before, you definitely were now. 

Maggie looked like she’d stepped right out of a fairytale. Her bodice and sleeves were mesh, patterned with intricate lace, her skirt made of silk with a slight volume to it and lots of movement. The lace pattern bled into the skirt, blending well with the silk and forming it into a cohesive piece. 

Everyone’s compliments overlapped as you took her hands in yours, the both of you smiling widely at one another. 

With a gentle squeeze of your hands, and a knock on the door from her brothers, ready to walk her down the aisle, Maggie sighed. “Well, ladies, I think it’s just about time I got married, don’t you think?”

The ceremony was, to say the least, perfect. 

Out of the entire bridal party, you were the last to walk down the aisle, with Chuck and Thomas on either arm, all three of you beaming like sunshine. 

Your dad, along with everyone in the church, welled with tears upon Maggie’s entrance, both  of her brothers on her arm. Everything went without a hitch, and you must have ran through a pack or two of pocket kleenex. You’d never be able to replicate the joy in your heart when your dad finally called Maggie his wife. 

To no one’s surprise, the reception started strong and continued to stay that way. The hall looked absolutely amazing, with round tables and white wicker chairs, beautiful flower centerpieces. In the few-hour long break between the ceremony and the reception, Sonya, Harriet, and Brenda’s attitudes have kicked up in suspicion, but all things considered, you simply brushed it off. You had a lot more to worry about today than their behavior, and one of those things was your speech. 

All of your friends sat at a table near the front, watching your uncle wrap up his speech. Thomas and Chuck were going to do one as the best men, but didn’t quite know what to say, so they passed that duty onto Mark. One of Maggie’s friends offered to do the same for you, but you had already started with an idea, and this was too important to pass off. 

With shaking hands and messily written index cards, you stepped up to the microphone next to your parents table, smiling at the people around you. You kept your eyes on Maggie and your dad, though, for the most part. 

Clearing your throat, you leaned into the mic and began your speech. “I know that there’s a lot of people here who might not exactly know who I am, but I’m very glad to be here to share this day with all of you. I’m the daughter of the groom, and my name is Y/n. I want to start by congratulating my dad and Maggie, who I can say, deep in my heart, I know were meant to be together. Sure, it took them a while, but I guess finding ‘The One’ takes time, right?” You took a deep breath, adjusting the cards in your hands, finding that you didn’t need them any more. “I’ve only known Maggie for about four years, but she’s one of the greatest people I’ve ever met. I’ll forever be grateful for all of the things she’s helped me and my dad through, and for always being there. Maggie, you and your boys have changed everything in our lives, and there won’t be a day that I won’t be thankful for that. You showed my dad how to love again, and you didn’t hesitate for a second to share that love with me, too.” 

You were only looking at Maggie, now, eyes wet with tears and a smile stretching your face. “And it’s because of that love and dedication that I am proud to be here today, with all our friends and family, and be able to call you my mom.” 

You watched the emotions change on your parents faces and laughed lightly. “I can only finish this off by saying that I hope that everything the both of you want out of life comes to you, and to tell you that I love you both to the moon and back.” 

Quietly, you stepped away from the microphone and walked over to an already standing Maggie, pulling you into a tight hug. 

“I love you so much, honey,” she whispered, kissing the side of your head. 

You squeezed her tight, tucking your face into her neck. “I love you, too, mom.”

After you let go and sat down, you glanced over at your dad to find him trying his best to hide his tears. He hadn’t been doing so well, considering you could see the shine of tears building on his waterline. 

Dinner and cake came after the speeches finished, both of which were delicious — you made a mental note to personally tell Jorge how good the cake was — and made you heavily consider taking seconds, despite knowing you would pay for it later with a stomach ache. 

Soon enough, the dance floor filled with people, and you searched out your friends to spend more time with them. 

You found them easily, the seven of them clumped into one corner of the room, just by the hall’s main entrance. They greeted you warmly, talking over one another about the food and the speeches. You told them everything about your day so far, and how proud and elated you were that the wedding finally happened. It was only when you were getting into how hectic things had been at the house that Gally’s phone rang, and suddenly the whole group went quiet. 

He stepped away, answering the phone and nodding like the person on the other line could see him. Everyone was looking at him, cheeky smiles on their faces as Gally came back, tucking his phone back into the pocket of his slacks. 

“What was that all about?” You asked him. 

Gally smiled at you, something he didn’t do all that often, a playful gleam in his eye. “Wanna go for a drive?”

“Why?” Your brows cinched as you dragged out your question, glancing between everyone as a slight chill ran up your spine. 

“He’s got a surprise for you, that’s why.” Brenda nudged you. “Just go, I promise it’ll be worth it.” 

You looked between everyone wearily before following Gally out to his car, not bothering to grab your coat. Your heart was racing with every step, the anticipation and confusion building in your head. Brenda said it was worth the trip, but you just didn’t know what was going on. Not to mention everyone’s odd behavior…

After driving around for a few minutes, Gally pulled into the school parking lot. A light flurry of snow had begun to fall, dusting the grass and pavement, and slightly impairing your vision as you looked around from the passenger’s seat. “Gally, why are we at the school?”

The boy looked up from his phone with a smirk. “You’ll see.”

Not a moment after he finished his sentence, your phone pinged from your dress pocket. Your heart stopped when you pulled it out, reading the new message in your notifications. ‘Come to the willow tree’

It was from Newt.

You looked up at Gally, who’s smile widened as he nodded toward the field. 

“He’s waiting for you,” Gally said, and you had to remember how to breathe. 

With one final, reassuring nod, you exited the car, bracing against the cold as you raced to the willow tree. Through the flurries, you made out Newt’s figure by the tree, and stopped yourself from running any further. 

Once you were able to move your legs again, you took it slower, walking through the thin layer of accumulating snow, picking up your dress to make it less likely for you to trip. With every step, you could make out Newt’s figure a little clearly, and it made the ache in your chest grow larger. 

You came to a stop under the tree’s canopy of dead leaves, providing some protection from the snow. Newt was wearing a black suit, and you couldn’t deny how great he looked in it. He was still staring at his shoes and picking at his fingernail when you stopped walking, almost as though he hadn’t heard you approaching him. 

Gripping the sides of your dress, you found the courage to speak up. “I thought you didn’t want to see me again.” 

Newt looked up from his shoes with a smile. “I lied.” 

“But that’s what you said, isn’t it? On Christmas. When you slammed the door in my face.” 

“I know what I said, and I’m sorry,” Newt sighed, stepping a bit closer. “I was a prick for saying it, too. I never should’ve done what I did, you didn’t deserve it.” He took a breath, running a hand through his hair and tucking a hand into one of his pockets. “Ever since the party, Sonya’s been telling me every day how upset you were. Hell, everyone was, and it’s been driving me mad ever since, because I hurt you, and I’ve never wanted to do that.” 

Teary-eyed, you opened your mouth to speak, but Newt continued. 

“I don’t care what Tommy thinks about us being together anymore. But I want us to be together. Hell, the only thing that kept me quiet about how I felt for so long — that stopped me from asking you out when we hung out together on our own for the first time — was how I thought he would react, or if he would disapprove of it. But I don’t care anymore. I love you, Y/n. More than anything. Staying away from you for so long has been killing me, and I can’t stand it anymore.” He stepped closer again, leaving only a few inches of space between you. “You have no idea how badly I wanted to follow you outside when you came to Mickey’s with Brenda. To apologize for what I said, for leaving you that night. To—” he sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “—to kiss you bloody senseless.” 

You stared up at the boy before you, the one you never thought would talk to you again, in awe of his words. After the bonfire, you never believed that Newt would say something like that to you, let alone plan something as intimate as this was. You blinked away tears for the fourth time that day and realized there was only one thing you could say at the moment. 

“So do it. Kiss me.” 

Newt closed the distance between your bodies, pulling you into him by the waist and pressing his lips to yours. Elation filled every inch of your body as you wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him as close as you were able, pouring all your love into the kiss. You felt one of Newt’s hands snake up your neck, palm splayed over your jaw as he tried in vain to pull you closer into his body. 

You wished you didn’t need air to breathe when you were forced to pull back, lipstick smeared on Newt’s swollen lips, and likely on your own, as well. But you still had one question to ask. 

“Why now?” You asked, smoothing the hairs on the nape of his neck. “I mean, after everything, why now? You spent two months pretending to hate me, so what changed?”

“The jacket.” Newt told you. “Sonya practically forced it into my hands after you left, and then she yelled at me for half an hour about how big of an idiot I was being, and how wrong it was for me to keep treating you the way I had been. After that… I sat on my bed for a while, holding the jacket and thinking about how right she was. About how much I missed you. After that, I knew I had to do something, so…” 

“So you planned all this?” You said, a coy smile spreading on your lips. “Just for me?”

Newt smiled wide, laughter bubbling in his throat. “Just for you, darling.” The nickname made your heart skip a beat, and your smile widened. “You shouldn’t be so surprised. You  saw what I did for you in New York. Making elaborate plans to see you happy isn’t anything new.”

Without another word, you pulled his head down to kiss him again. You couldn’t fight the smile on your lips as you kissed Newt, reveling in how amazing it felt to finally be able to kiss him. Just as you were pulling away, a thought crossed your mind. “Wait. What about Thomas? And our friends?”

“Did you not hear a word I just said?” Newt laughed. “I don’t give a damn what Tommy thinks. I only care about you. And our friends have been in on it for the past week, love.” 

You smiled bright at the boy holding you, pulling him back into another searing kiss. 

Under the canopy of the willow tree, on the greatest day of your life so far, you got your movie-screen happy ending; and everything that happened to get it was entirely worth it.

series taglist: @heliads @ghostofscarley @badbatch-simp24 @virginia-peters @third-broparcelicito @lamolaine @yes-fangirl-things (open!)

[devilworeprada]

‘can i get a bump?’

summary: drugs, sex and alcohol.. when your best friend throws an end of semester rager, you mix a bad habit of partying with sarah’s arrogant kook older brother and his best friend - what could possibly go wrong? 18+

pairing: rafe cameron x topper x fem!reader

warnings: NSFW, heavy drug use, heavy drugging, DUBCON, NONCON, threesome, coercion, dumbification, degradation, corruption, all around mature themes.

notes: hi! this is my first dark fan-fiction, after reading so many I decided to start writing some of my own works, apologises if this isn’t the best I do love writing and hopefully this gives me a chance to get better <3 this will be in 2 parts enjoy!

© to devilworeprada. no translations/reposts.

part 1.

Last night.

The sky was midnight blue, specks of white fluttered across the horizon. The crackling of your lighter distracted you from noticing Sarah’s shiny black volvo, quietly pulling up on the road next to the beach.

Watching the waves greeting each other comforted you, you heard your best friend scrambling around to find her belongings in her car.

“Oh my fucking gooooood…” the feminine voice whined from a distance.

You turn your head slightly behind you to see your friend Sarah dragging herself onto the beach.

A look of exhaustion seen across her face, “finals are killing me… please find a new best friend i’m going to die” she uttered before dramatically collapsing onto the warm sand.

You smiled at her scene, cigarette smoke leaving your mouth as you spoke “very funny Sarah, but i don’t have the funding for your funeral right now”.

Sarah lifted her head from the sand, giggling to herself while she sneakily tried to grab your idle pack of lucky strike cigarettes. You playfully smacked her hand as she successfully grabbed one.

“hey, Y/N it’s been a long fucking time since we’ve had a party.. like a rager type shit right..?” Sarah questioned while lighting her cigarette.

“I mean with finals and moving out, i guess i forgot how to get fucked up” you joked.

“you… Y/N… the bitch who did K with Mr. Johnson from history class? forgetting how to party? you’re so fucking unserious” sarah remarked, her laughter filling the air with how silly the concept sounded.

“Oh my god why did you remind me of that” you put your hands in your hair internally screaming, no. embarrassed, at the memories flooding your mind.

Your history teacher for last year, Mr. Johnson, a 6’5, 29 year old dirty blonde heartthrob had gotten fired for smoking in his classroom. Being the outgoing, bubbly and fun loving girl you were, you invited him to one of sarah’s infamous parties - long story short JJ and sarah walked in on Mr. Johnson, shirtless and dazed, snorting Ket off of your inner thigh.

Sarah too stunned to speak and JJ not being able to hold in his laughter, the night shortly ended for Mr. Johnson as he ran out the cameron’s front door - not wanting to spend the rest of that night in holding.

“But a rager… sounds interesting, i mean finals are over and it’s the end of our semester right?” you added, quickly trying to change the topic as your cheeks flushed with those blurry flashbacks of that night.

Sarah stretched her arms over her head and flicked away whatever was left of her tiny cigarette before she mentioned happily, “my parents aren’t in town either!”

“fuck.. Rafe is though..”

Her face darkened, knowing the history the both of you shared.

That name. Rafe fucking Cameron.

Just hearing it made your shoulders feel heavy, Rafe was Sarah’s older brother, and god did you wish she had no relation to the arrogant cunt.

You always had bad blood with rafe, completely one sided.. he just hated you for being a pogue. Years of constant frosty glares being exchanged, passive aggressive comments and the occasional threat from the taller blonde.

But the tipping point of your cold war with Rafe was when he found out you were an addict. Rumours of your bad habit spread throughout school, you didn’t care though knowing you had friends who lived the same almost worse lifestyles.

However, when Rafe heard of this, he chose to purposefully buy out your supplier just to fuck with you. As if he got off on knowing the withdrawals drove you crazy.

You were snapped out of thought when the small blonde put a light up to her lips, turning the end of the pale cigarette an amber hue, handing it to you with care.

“Y/N i know how you feel about Rafe so i’ll tell him to keep out of your way, kay?” she looked at you, able to tell you were bothered.

“I’ll tell him and his idiot friends to get us some drugs n’ let JJ and Pope take care of the drinks this time” hoping it would lighten you up.

“Thank you” you spoke, with a grin entering your face again while you took a drag of your cig.

“Rager it is then!” you exclaimed, getting up and dusting the sand off your shorts. Sarah shouted happily in response, both chuckling in unison and running off into her car.

Tonight.

A noisy somewhat crowded street could be seen from afar, bass filled music bumping and college kids drunk of out their mind to care about who was looking, a full moon gleaming ahead - brightening the landscape of teenage recklessness.

“Y/N! Sarah!” two male voices yelled in the distance, jogging up to the pair of you in the black car, it was JJ and Pope urging you both to hurry up. The two boys holding booze in each hand meticulously making sure they didn’t drop it.

“One minute my mascara is pissing me off” Sarah complained, grabbing at the silver tube on her lap, you both consulted about outfits with each other at your place, getting ready to 2000s era songs.

The two of you came to a conclusion, you were wearing a shiny ruby toned halter neck dress, the texture was velvety- rich and it hugged all of your curves. Which Sarah then shamelessly praised you on while walking to her car.

Sarah adorned a cream colour tube dress, the sleeveless dress showcasing her dainty frame focusing on her neck and chest.

“You look so fucking hot y/n” JJ ogled, earning a playful smack on the head from Pope.

“I’ll bite you JJ” you teased back.

“Let’s fucking do this thing” Sarah yelled in joy, stumbling to get out of the car just as Kesha started roaring from the ivory estate across the street

Upon stepping into the Cameron mansion, you were welcomed with the strangely sweet smell of weed and fruity puff bars. Immediately you headed into the kitchen bumping past a few senseless shoulders to get yourself a drink, if you were going to run into Rafe you at least wanted to be fucked up enough to forget the interaction.

The kitchen island was scattered with a myriad of booze, all different flavours and brands. Without hesitation you grabbed an idle red solo cup and poured in the nearest tequila.

“Isn’t that a bit too much for a girl your age” a familiar voice questioned, perking up from the overly loud rendition of Poker face booming amongst the large room.

“Topper..” you replied rolling your eyes, venom stained in your voice.

“I get it, not much of a talker anymore since the dealer shit right?” the taller male responded trailing on.. “you seen Rafe around?”.

“I’m 18. shit for brains, i can drink whatever the fuck i want, and no i haven’t seen Rafe. Do i look like a cop to you?” you spat back, looking at Topper as he lit his joint, the sides of his mouth smirking at your remark.

“My bad, just thought Rafe’s little pet would know where he was at all times..” he boasted, running a free hand through his hair.

You gritted your teeth at the edge of the solo cup, gnawing at it, wishing it was his skull.

“Don’t let him catch you looking like this.. I know i’d eat you alive” he mentioned while gawking at you, dark blue orbs creeping up and down your body. His eyes feeling like a violation, fixating on your hips.

“Eat a dick Topper” you snapped back, causing the older male to wheeze in response.

You walked off, heels clicking and bottle of tequila in hand to find JJ, hopefully talking to him while he was off it would cause your mood to brighten up.

The living room was packed with people pulsing to a techno beat, smoke filled the air while an array of various coloured lights swished back and forth. ‘I need some fucking coke’ you thought to yourself, getting bumped around like a rag doll trying to get out of the haze and up the stairs.

Slamming doors open and shut on a mission to find JJ was tiring, assuming Rafe was with a girl in one of the guest bedrooms soured your mood. It made your frantic search for JJ faster, just for the night maybe you could fuck JJ? Your thoughts trailed off as you took a swig of your tequila.

“‘Do i want to fuck Rafe?’.

end of part 1.

[rttnpnkpmpkn]

Headcanons Nobody Asked: Sarah (tentative)

Sarah currently replaces Y/N as Lucy’s roommate and attends the same college as her.

She has spent a semester studying in Japan prior to the start of Your Girlfriend, and just came back from the student exchange program.

[ash-and-books]

Rating: 1.5/5

Book Blurb: Heathers meets The Secret History in this thrilling coming-of-age novel set in a boarding school where the secrets are devastating—and deadly. When Sarah Taylor arrives at the exclusive St. Ambrose School, she’s carrying more baggage than just what fits in her suitcase. She knows she’s not like the other girls—if the shabby, all-black, non-designer clothes don’t give that away, the bottle of lithium hidden in her desk drawer sure does. St. Ambrose’s queen bee, Greta Stanhope, picks Sarah as a target from day one and the most popular, powerful, horrible girl at school is relentless in making sure Sarah knows what the pecking order is. Thankfully, Sarah makes an ally out of her roommate Ellen “Strots” Strotsberry, a cigarette-huffing, devil-may-care athlete who takes no bullshit. Also down the hall is Nick Hollis, the devastatingly handsome RA, and the object of more than one St. Ambrose student’s fantasies. Between Strots and Nick, Sarah hopes she can make it through the semester, dealing with not only her schoolwork and a recent bipolar diagnosis, but Greta’s increasingly malicious pranks. Sarah is determined not to give Greta the satisfaction of breaking her. But when scandal unfolds, and someone ends up dead, her world threatens to unravel in ways she could never have imagined. The St. Ambrose School for Girls is a dangerous, delicious, twisty coming-of-age tale that will stay with you long after you turn the last page.

Review:

A new student arrives at an exclusive boarding school and soon secrets, lies, and a dead body happen. Sarah Taylor has just arrived at the exclusive St. Ambrose School. She’s not like other girls, she’s quiet, invisible, and has a lot of baggage. She wears all black and has a hidden bottle of lithium hidden in her desk. She becomes the instant target for the queen bee Greta Stanhope but Sarah thankfully has an ally in her roommate Ellen “Strots” Strotsberry who takes no bullshit. Then there is the Hot Residential Advisor, Nick Hollis, who despite being older, married, and off limits... has a lot of secrets of his own. Sarah soon finds herself discovering the secrets of her fellow students and her R.A. but can she keep her recent bipolar diagnosis under wraps while also dealing with Greta’s increasingly cruel pranks. Sarah is determined to not let Greta break her...but as scandal is revealed and a dead body appears, secrets will come undone and the true nature of these girls will reveal themselves. This was giving me a bit of Heathers vibes but also not. The story felt like it definitely dragged a lot and the story felt kind of eh most of the time. The drama and secrets were eh and honestly I just felt lukewarm about the entire book. The final twist and reveal was okay but overall, I just didn’t really care that much about the characters and the story. Overall, it sort of gave a dark academia/mystery vibe but it honestly just didn’t live up to the expectations that I had.

*Thanks Netgalley and Gallery Books for sending me an arc in exchange for an honest review*

[vidstudiosworld]

Inspiring Others to Pursue Their Dreams

Caecilia is a judo-athlete aged 12 with a visual impairment. She discusses the importance of overcoming fear and insecurities. Rosa Riedl's tree of her family and historical records. Documents can contain photographs, original documentation including family history and related relatives. They could also include dates, locations, complete names, specific dates and places. The resulting multimedia volume lies at the intersections of memoir and manifesto. It combines an unjustifiable anger with funny humor. The powerful message is a hit with audiences all over the globe. Caecilia Ridl Caecilia is 13 years old and a Judo athlete with a vision impairment. She is a student at the International School of Luxembourg, and she is about to compete in the Paralympics in 2028. She is going to motivate others by sharing her story and encouraging those around her to conquer their fears to pursue their dreams. Marika Cecilia received her first lesson in harp at the age 6 at the age of six from Tabitha Nicolas. In 2011, she began her studies as an undergraduate student at the Hochschule fur Musik und Theater in Munich with Cristina Bianchi and in 2014 she transferred to Zurich University of the Arts in Zurich, where she studied with Sarah O'Brien. Alongside performing solo concert with or without orchestra she has taken numerous masterclasses including one that she took with Luisa Prandina as well as Emmanuel Ceysson. Alex Riedl Alex Riedl is a student who enjoys being active in all kinds of organizations and help other people. She is also very passionate about Art and Psychology and would like to demonstrate that you can achieve anything if you desire it enough. Tabitha Nicolas taught her the fundamentals of playing the harp at age six. She was a junior student at the Musikhochschule in Munich with Cristina Bianchi and in 2014 she started her studies at Zurich University of Arts with Sarah O'Brien, followed by an exchange program in Lausanne with Letizia Belmondo. She has received several fellowships and scholarships, including those from the Lyceum Club Zürich as well as the Marianne and Curt Dienemann Stiftung Luzern (Miriam and Curt Dienemann Foundation) as well as the Lyra Foundation, and the Zangger-Weber Foundation. Johannes Heuschkel Marika Cecilia began her training as a harpiste at the age of six. She is a substitute harpiste with the Tonhalle Orchester Zurich, Philharmonia Zurich(Opernhaus Zurich), and Berner Symphonieorchester. She earned a masters at the Zurich University of the Arts where she studied with Sarah O'Brien. She also received a diploma as a concertist and spent an exchange semester with Letizia Bellmondo in Lausanne. She has been awarded scholarships from the Lycee Club Zurich as well as the Marianne and Curt Dienemann Foundation Lucerne. The varied panel of speakers who talk about topics such as integration of AI into the classroom and programs designed to help children with disabilities in maths will inspire the audience. The speakers include the beatboxer to the muralist and 13-year old visually impaired Judo champs, will demonstrate that anyone is capable of achieving success with the right mindset.

Video embeds anchors:

[kingvideosblog]

Inspiring Others to Pursue Their Dreams

Caecilia is a 12-year-old judo-athlete with a vision impairment. She speaks about the importance of getting over fears and anxieties. Rosa Riedl's family tree, as well as historical records. Records can include photos and original documentation, family history and relatives. They may also contain dates, places, full names, specific dates and places. The resultant volume of multimedia is a blend of manifesto and memoir that balances rage and justification with wry humour. It is an effective message that resonates with audiences across the globe. Caecilia Ridl Caecilia is a 13 year old Judo athlete who has a visual impairment. She is an HS student at the International School of Luxembourg and is close to competing at the Paralympics in 2028. She will encourage others to follow her story and motivating students to overcome their doubts to pursue their dreams. Marika Cecilia Reidl started her first harp lessons at age of six with Tabitha Nicolas. She took lessons in 2011 while an undergraduate at Hochschule fur Musik und Theater, Munich with Cristina Bianchi. In 2014, she relocated to Zurich University of the Arts and began her studies in the harp with Sarah O'Brien. She has performed solo concerts in both concert halls and with an orchestra. She also attended numerous masterclasses with Luisa Prandina as well as Emmanuel Ceysson.

Alex Riedl Alex Riedl is a student who loves to be active in all kinds of organisations and help other people. She is also passionate about Art and Psychology and hopes to prove that you can achieve everything if you wish to enough. She began playing harp at the age of six and began her first lessons from Tabitha Nicolas. She began her studies at the Musikhochschule Munich at the age of 12 alongside Cristina Bianchi. In 2014, she started her studies at Zurich University of Arts in the class of Sarah O'Brien. She has been awarded numerous fellowships and scholarships, including those from the Lyceum Club Zürich, the Marianne and Curt Dienemann Stiftung Luzern (Miriam and Curt Dienemann Foundation), the Lyra Foundation and the Zangger-Weber Foundation. Johannes Heuschkel Marika Cecilia began her training as a Harpiste at the age of six. She is a substitute harpiste with the Tonhalle Orchester Zurich, Philharmonia Zurich(Opernhaus Zurich) and the Berner Symphonieorchester. She has a masters degree at the Zurich University of the Arts in collaboration with Sarah O'Brien, as well as a diploma for concertists and an exchange semester in Lausanne with Letizia Belmondo. She has received grants from the Lycee Club Zurich as well as the Marianne and Curt Dienemann Foundation Lucerne. The diverse lineup of speakers, who will discuss topics like the integration of AI into schools and programs that aid children who are disadvantaged in maths will inspire the audience. From an artist who beatboxes and paints murals to visually impaired 13-year-old Judo champions, these speakers will show that it is possible to achieve anything when you believe in yourself. Video credits: YouTube

[ffssinternship]

Editing, Editing, Editing!

This week, I continued editing the biographies I have been working on all semester. As I wrap up this week, the James Maddox biography is just about ready for Dr. Lyons to give her final review. Early in the week, we received yet another email from Maddox’s niece, Sarah, containing another letter to the local church. In it, he provided more information of his exact whereabouts and unit connections. This answered some questions about what he was doing between his hospital discharge in February 1944 to returning to combat in September 1944. In the letter sent in May, he explains he is actually working with a special unit providing showers and laundry services to the men on the frontline. I did some further research into it, and the military explains these units were often stationary and troops would roll in for a weekly shower and change of clothes. Soldiers on the frontline usually opted for the laundry exchange, where they would trade the clothes on their back for used but clean and sterilized ones. Others would take clothing bundles, which was more common. This included about 20 items that were washed and returned to the soldier. According to the letter, it seems like Maddox helped more with the clothing exchange and operation of the showers. 

The letter also describes the combat conditions. Maddox explained he was stationed in Anzio. This long battle lasted into June. He describes seeing and hearing the gunfire while in church service on the beach. This small detail conveys a much larger message of the lifestyle the men overseas experienced. Not only were many of them devoted to the their faith for any number of reasons, but they had become almost numb to the danger they were in at all times. His focus in the letter is around the service, and the firings only provide additional detail to their location. It is one thing to assume what a soldier’s experience was like or hear them talk about years later, but reading and understanding the experience from their eyes at the time they were living it is entirely different. The story of Bobby Maddox has really opened my eyes to a whole other side of history. Not only is this biography making a huge difference to his remaining family, but the resources provide various important details that might otherwise be overlooked. Majority of the veterans we research do not have remaining letters to reference, and we rarely have their words to quote directly. Seeing Maddox’s relationship to his faith and discussing the importance of it while in such a dire situation gives a unique perspective that can only be told by the veterans themselves.

[delicatetaylorsversion]

My exchange semester in Helsinki has come to an end. It has been an amzing time, i've made so many great experiences, memories and friends. I've cried a few times after i had to say goodbye to all the lovely people i met.

If you're studying: Go abroad if possible, it's amazing!

[tumsozluk]

My semester abroad in Norway | Vancouver Island University

My semester abroad in Norway | Vancouver Island University

My name is Sarah Osborne and I am a fourth-year student in the Child and Youth Care program at VIU. This fall, I had the opportunity to go on exchange to the Norwegian School of Sport Sciences (Norges Idrettshogskole, or NIH) in Oslo, Norway. Making my choice Why did I choose NIH? For me, the major draw was its outdoor studies (friluftsliv) program. I have always loved nature and exploring the…

[vbecker10]

Shadows of the Past

Part 26 (Part 25)

A/N - I accidently wrote Part 27 first and then I had to go back and write this before I could post either of them lol 

_______________________________________

(Y/N POV)

"Why didn't you come to me when Marc first approached you? Sarah, we were friends. I would have tried to help you... we could have done something," you say after a few minutes of silence.

Sarah just shakes her head slowly, "I could never have told you this."

"Why not? You know my father worked for SHIELD, maybe he could have-" she cuts you off before you can finish what you wanted to say.

"You were my first mission, Y/N," Sarah says looking up at you.

You can feel your body tense up.  “Wait... What?” you ask quietly, trying to process what you just heard.

“You were my first mission, right after I was recruited,” Sarah says.  She laughs a little to herself, “They wanted to recruit you, I was just their backup plan.”

“Why would they want either of us?” you ask shaking your head.

“Like I said, they didn’t want me,” Sarah’s attitude changes.  She almost sounds annoyed that she was the second choice.  You look at her, still unsure why they would be so interested in you.

“You're a freaking SHIELD legacy, your father was one of the top agents before he left and your grandmother actually worked with Peggy Carter during the first war.  She was one of the first agents after Peggy helped form SHIELD.  I mean... when we first met I couldn't believe your grandmother had met Steve Rogers before he was Captain America," she points over your shoulder at Steve as she says that.  

People at school and the training programs always thought that was cool.  Steve remembered working with your grandmother and when he first met you, he told you how much you looked like her.  After that, Steve always watched over you a bit more than he did with everyone else and you quickly fell into the habit of jokingly calling him mom.

"Marc said they had been watching your progress our first year and when you were ranked top 10% in our class at the end of the year, that sealed it for them.  They knew you would advance quickly at SHIELD and they wanted to use you as a double agent,” she told you.  

“In the beginning, Marc just wanted me to stay close to you but then he started asking me to do things.  Little things at first... clone your phone, put a tracker on your car, tell him who you met with,” she said as if they were so minor they didn’t even matter. 

“You said ‘in the beginning’... what else did you do?” you ask her.

Sarah pulls on the chains a bit and looks at them.  “Hydra gets people to join one of two ways.... you either join willingly or not,” she pauses.

You try to think back to your time at school but nothing jumps out at you.  

“Marc wanted to put you into a situation where you would do one little favor for someone in exchange for getting you out of trouble.  Something small, you barely would have thought twice about.  Once you did that, the next favor would be a bit bigger, since now the first favor could be used as blackmail.  They would have continued to get larger until you didn’t have a way out,” she explains and it suddenly hits you.

“Our second semester, sophomore year...” you say, still thinking.  “You had dragged me out to a bar the night before my Chemistry final.  I overslept and almost missed the exam, I was so hungover I screwed the whole thing up.  The exam was almost a third of our grade,” you talk slowly as you remember.  

She nods, “And you failed it pretty spectacularly if I remember right.  Then I offered you a way out of that, so you wouldn’t lose your ranking at school or disappoint your parents.  We both knew how obsessed they were with your grades.  I told you Marc had a friend who could change your final exam grade.  You just needed to do one little thing.”

“But I didn’t do it... Marc wanted me to give him a copy of the final exam answers for the class I was a TA for.  He said his friend could change my grade in exchange for selling the answers I gave him,” you think back.  

“Do you have any idea how angry Marc was when I told him you went to your Chem teacher to talk to them about getting extra work to bring your grade up?  He couldn’t believe you would do that,” she said.  “He didn’t bother trying again after that since he knew you wouldn’t take the easy road out like the others they’ve done this to.”

You look at her in shock, you had barley thought about that after it happened.  You never would have thought that had been a setup. If you had given Marc the exam answers, he could have used that as blackmail to get you to do something else for him.  Its so strange to think how one small decision could have changed everything.  

“After that, I was told to just stay with you, keeping tabs on you as I had been before,” she said but before you can ask her anything else the door opens and three agents walk in to take her to the Raft.  

(LOKI POV)

The three agents walk into the room and go over to Sarah.  They unchain her from the table and stand her up.  They grab her by her arms and lead her out.  Once she is gone, Steve pushes Y/N back out of the room and you meet them in the hallway.  

She looks up at you, “Can we go back to the infirmary now?”

“Of course,” you respond.  She nods to Steve who lets go of the chair and she pushes herself down the hall.  You walk next to her in silence.  Steve, Thor & Bucky remain behind.  

You push the button for the elevator and stare at the ground in front of you.  “Loki?” you hear her say and you look up.  

“Sorry, did you say something?” you ask her.

“I asked if you were ok,” she says as the doors open.

“I’m fine,” you respond, pushing the button to go to the infirmary.

“Wow... I expected a little more from the God of Lies,” she says sarcastically.

You shrug but don’t say anything else.  Your mind keeps wandering back through everything Sarah said.  How she had spied on Y/N for almost their entire friendship.  The way she talked about trying to trap Y/N in Hydra’s web without even a hint of regret in her voice.  She was not the person you or Y/N thought she was.  

You think back to Sarah claiming she loved you while describing how she had used you and set you up to take the fall for her, and you realize something.  She might have thought she loved you, but you were now sure you never loved her.  She had been right, when you first met you were lost and lonely.  You were not only alone, you were hated and feared, everyone distrusted you.  

Sarah was the only one who took the time to talk to you, to get to know you and you thought you could trust her.  Your feelings for her grew and you had thought it was love but it wasn’t.  You liked that you weren’t alone anymore, that you had someone you could be with but the more you think about it, the more if felt you just said the words back to her because she had said them first. 

You look down at Y/N in her wheelchair next to you in the elevator.  She looks up at you, her face full of worry as she reaches for your hand.  You squeeze it and try to give her a smile but you can feel a tear escaping.  

“Loki?” she asks, “Do you want go back to your room first?”

You shake your head, “I’m ok, just thinking”.

“You can talk to me, remember?” she tells you and this time you do manage to smile at her.  

“I know, and I will.  I just... want to organize my thoughts I guess,” you tell her.  

She doesn’t say anything, she just lets you think but she never lets go of your hand.  You think back to all the times you found yourself comparing Y/N to Sarah.  You know you shouldn’t have but you couldn’t always help yourself.  They were so different, and they treated you so differently.

Sarah was sometimes short with you when you didn’t know things that she thought were obvious.  Y/N was never like that, she seemed to enjoy teaching you new things like cooking or how to add songs to your phone.  Y/N liked to pull little pranks on you when you weren’t expecting them.  You played a harmless trick on Sarah once and she seemed almost annoyed by it.  Y/N found ways to combine your hobbies so you could spend time together while Sarah sometimes seemed to enjoy being alone more than being with you.  There were times where you felt you were bothering her when you asked to spend time together.  

The biggest difference you found between the two was how Y/N always told you to talk to her.  Sarah had often told you to get over things or not take them so hard but Y/N let you have your voice.  Even now, she didn’t want you to keep everything to yourself.  She knew how sometimes your mind could spin things against you, making it seem as if things were your fault even if you knew they weren’t.  Y/N was the only person you knew who would just sit and listen to you, never saying a word until you were done.  

The doors open and you follow her out but you stop her before she gets to the infirmary doors.  “Y/N,” you say, touching her shoulder from behind.

She turns her head and looks up at you.  You walk around her chair and kneel so you are at eye level with her.  “Loki?” she asks.

“I just wanted you to know that I’m going to help you through this anyway I can.  I know you like to do things yourself but you don’t have to, I’m going to be here,” you tell her.  You touch her cheek softly, “I don’t want to talk about Sarah or this mess anymore.  I just want to move forward with you.”

She smiles at you and nods.  “We can do that,” she says.  “And I appreciate the offer Mischief.  I don’t always like to ask for help but I am going to need it.”

@michelleleewise @evansabove1981 @ace-of-gay @butt-ugly-popsicle-stick @poetic-fiasco @lokisprettygirl22 @soubi001 @kats72 @misswimberly @meibruges @juulle987 @asgardianprincess1050 @el-zef @xorpsbane @sweatyroadcowboyjudge @apine7 @lulubelle814 @annoyingcloudninja  @yoongissidebitchh @ihategreeneggs  @daggers-and-mischief @nonsensicalobsessions

Let me know if you want to be added! 💚

[anamoon63]

Dale: Terry didn't 'abandon me to my fate', he offered me his support in getting us another apartment, and he'll help with anything we need, he just can't do anything against Riley, that's all.

Kelly: Hmm, no, that's not all, you're hiding something from me, Dale Cho.

Of course Dale is hiding something. He can't tell her what Terence advised him because, one: Kelly will go straight to kill Terry, and two, because if he tells her what advice his brother gave him, he'll have to tell her as well what Riley wanted, then Kelly would put up one hell of a fight in the middle of exams eve. And two: because, in a few minutes, he has to go to his last business presentation at the library, on which part of his grade for the semester depends. So no, he can't tell Kelly what happened on that phone call with Terry. At least not now.

Dale: Seriously, I'm not hiding anything from you. Or rather... Okay, the truth is that... (Dale stops abruptly).

Kelly: The truth is that what? Talk to me already, Dale.

Dale knows he's in trouble, whether he hides the truth from her or whether he tells her everything.

They both smoke again; she, to control her impatience; he, to buy time and figure out what to answer. Just then, there is the sound of doors opening and closing, and the voices of Riley and Sarah arguing again.

Sarah: So you did it just so we could stay in the dorm, huh?

Riley: Yes, because I already knew he would never accept my proposal, so we wouldn't have to leave.

Sarah: And you think I'm going to believe that bullshit?

Riley: Well, it's the truth.

Sarah: No, it's not. You were hoping for the exact opposite result. Your intention was very clear! You asked Dale to sleep with you in exchange for leaving the dorm, because you knew that was the only way he would give in to your whim!

Kelly: (Stops smoking) What??

Dale: …

[ill-be-your-honey-bri]

Wouldn’t It Be Nice

Hello all!

It is an honor to say that I am participating in my very first Fic Challenge! @helladirections​ put together this AMAZING Summer Feeling Challenge with a list of a bunch of summer prompts for writers to chose from. For this fic, I chose the BBQ and Fireworks as my prompt.

So without further ado, I present a very fluffy college!Harry.

Warnings: Fluffy-fluff, mild drug and alcohol use.

Please keep an eye out for the other writers and fics involved in the Summer Feeling Challenge and spread some love and peace to those amazing writers as well.  

Harry had always looked forward to the summer; time off from school, getting back to work in the bakery and bugging Barbara. The thing he looks forward to the most is his time with his family at the lake house, and going to the lake house meant spending the summer with you.

Harry had a school boy crush on you since your family bought the lake house down the road. He was in awe of how fearless you were. You were always the first to grab at any creepy-crawly or amphibian, the first to dive into the lake, and the one to suggest scary stories in the middle of the night at the gazebo by the lake.

As time progressed, Harry’s crush turned into something more. He remembers the first summer of puberty when you filled in your bathing suit a little too well and how he is positive he was sporting a semi the whole summer. Damn hormones.

But now, on his drive to the lake house, he smiles thinking of how he will be reunited with his summertime buddies and the girl he can never get off his mind. He turns up the music, hearing “Summer of ‘69” to put him in the perfect mood for another great summer.

Harry drives past your house, seeing your car already parked there. He is half tempted to stop at your place first but realizes that you're probably down by the lake already. His mom is out front of their house talking to your mom when Harry pulls up, both women promptly giving him a hug when he steps out.

“God Harry, you got so big and handsome! And your hair!” Your mom praised Harry as he tried to detangle his hair from the wind of having the windows down, giving her a shy smile an a ‘thank you’.

“Y/N is down by the lake with Sarah and Mitch darling, she has been asking about you.” Anne gave him a wink and a tap on the bum, knowing his feelings for you, your mom giggled at Harry’s blush. As Harry was walking away, he could hear your mom mumble, “Always thought those two would be perfect together.” Harry’s shy smile turned beaming as he walked his bag to his room.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry walked out the back of the lake house and began his walk to the dock. He could hear The Beach Boys playing, becoming clearer the closer he got to the lake. He could see Sarah laying out next to Mitch, who was sitting in a chair with his guitar in his lap, lazily strumming along to “Good Vibrations”. He couldn’t see you until you breached the water, hiking yourself up onto the dock.

“Harry!” You quickly stood up and ran before you tumbled into his arms, still dripping from your swim and not grabbing a towel. He embraced you, giving you a tight squeeze, soaking his shirt. You giggled as he picked you up so that your feet were a few inches off the ground.

Sarah and Mitch quickly got up to give Harry a warm and welcoming embrace before all walking to where your towels were all laid out so you can all sit and talk. Everyone was talking about their year since they last saw each other. Well, accept Mitch and Sarah since they have been dating since last summer.

It was getting warm, so Harry took off his now dry shirt. You gasped when he did, seeing his skin exposed littered with new black ink. He had a few accumulating over the summers but there were so many new ones for your eyes to explore.

You propped yourself on your knees looking at all the ink in their details, Harry shivered as your fingers grazed his skin. He could see Sarah and Mitch begin to smirk and giggle just past your head but he quickly returned his gaze to you; skin glowing in the sun, hair frizzing from its air drying. You were more beautiful every summer. You smiled up at him as you talked about the new markings before the smell of the grill indicated it was time to head back to help set up for the barbeque.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The barbeque was being held at Harry’s house, his step-dad, Robin, wearing the fitting apron that says “Grill Master”. Your dad was helping Robin with grabbing the meat from the kitchen that he had helped prep to bring it out to the porch where the grill and it’s master were perched.

Anne had put on an Eagles playlist that was coming through an outdoor speaker, Robin and your dad singing into their tongs and spatulas. Anne was putting together a summer sangria on the porch when all of you came running up the back steps from the lake.

Mitch’s and Sarah’s parents started bringing out different dishes with salads and fruits, your mom following with plates and silverware. Harry promptly took the cutlery and plates from your mom and began to set the table, you were quick to help Harry, bumping his hip with yours. Mitch and Sarah were helping with chairs.

“One of These Nights” began to play through the speaker and you grabbed Harry’s hand to begin dancing and singing along, Sarah did the same with Mitch, your dad with Robin.

Anne was emitting bubbly laughs as she and your mom passed out a glass of sangria to everyone. Once Robin sang that his masterpieces were complete, everyone sat at the table.

Harry sat across from you, smirking at you throughout your meal, giggling when you had barbeque sauce on your cheeks. You quickly wiped it off and nudged his shin with your foot.

Conversation was light throughout the meal, everyone’s parents asking all the kids how school is, what their future plans are, how much longer until they graduate. Harry kept his eyes on you as you were telling Mitch’s dad your favorite classes and how you are starting to look at graduate programs.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The night had come to an end when the sun had set, all the families exchanging ‘good nights’ and hugs. You were the last one that Harry had embraced. You turned your head to his ear to whisper, “gazebo at midnight”, before pulling away and kissing his cheek. You ran off quickly to catch up with your parents as well as Sarah and her family, grabbing Sarah’s hand before turning to look back at Harry. You gave him a final smile and wave before turning back to talk with Sarah.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry should have known that it wouldn’t be just the two of you at the gazebo, it was tradition after all.

Sarah and Mitch were sitting on the banister as you were spreading out the blanket for you all to sit on. Mitch was packing a bowl while Sarah was sipping on the bottle of liquor she stole from her parents cabinet. You were all of age at this point but it was a sentimental gesture from all the years prior.

Harry gave a weak smile and a wave as he approached. You had brightened when he stepped foot in the gazebo, skipping to him to grab his hand to pull him to the blanket. Your eyes were glowing in the twinkling lights hung along the top of the shelter.

Sarah handed you the bottle as Mitch took his first hit, promptly handing it to Harry. As Harry was inhaling, you had grabbed the bag that you brought with snacks and your phone, putting on some music and opening up the bag of Doritos.

You popped a chip in your mouth as Harry passed the bowl to you. “So, do you have a boyfriend from school?” You smiled at him before taking a hit and holding your breath, shaking your head no as you exhaled.

“No, but I had a girlfriend last semester. Found out she was screwing our whole friend group so I ended that quickly.”

Harry choked on the liquor he just tipped back, coughing with a, “Sorry to hear that.”

You shrugged it off before asking Harry, “And you? Any boyfriend or girlfriend?” smirking as he blushed. This group of friends were the only people you all could truly be open to, both you and Harry had come out as bisexual last summer.

“No, no one for me.” He began to dig into the snacks as the booze and weed got passed around.

“That’s a shame, you're a catch.” Everyone looked straight at you with wide eyes. Sarah giggling out from either the liquor, the weed, or the fact that she knew you had a massive crush on Harry.

Harry was stunned by your comment, giving a shy ‘thank you’ as you passed the bowl back around to him. Sarah continued her giggles, falling into Mitch who was kissing the top of her head.

The night progressed with the passing of substances between the four of you and ended with all your heads in the middle of the blanket telling stories from college. You began to yawn, getting a shiver from the wind. Harry pulled off his green flannel and handed it to you for you to keep yourself warm.

After putting your arms in the sleeves, you rolled over to rest your head on Harry’s chest, falling asleep to the now talkative Mitch telling horror stories from his pizza delivery job. Harry wrapped his arm around your waist to pull you close to him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The next morning, you all wake up to the sun rising, the lake reflecting the pink and orange sky. Harry woke up before you so he was able to take in your sleeping beauty. He moved the hair away from your face, flinching when Sarah talked.

“She really likes you, ya know? All she talks about is you whenever we are on the phone. Counted down the days until summer vacation.”

Harry began to smile looking back down at you, tickling your cheek with the tips of fingers causing you to rouse. You blink at him slowly and mumble a ‘morning’ before cuddling back into him.

After all fully waking up, you made your way to Sarah’s place where her parents were setting up a breakfast buffet on the porch. You promptly grab a plate and a mug of coffee before settling next to Harry and eating your breakfast, softly smiling as you both munched away.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You had spent all day on the boat with your parents, warming your skin in the sun and reading your book of the moment. You had watched Harry swimming and splashing around by the dock with Mitch.

“Are you excited for the fireworks sweetie?” Your mom had asked you as she added some more lotion to your shoulders so you don’t burn.

“There are fireworks tonight?”

“Mhm. The owners of the lake are putting on a show for the anniversary of when they opened it up.”

“I wonder if Harry knows. He hates fireworks.”

You dad looked over at you as he started the engine of the boat to head back to the dock, “What better way to spend your night than distracting Harry during fireworks.”

“Dad!” You were all laughing at what your dad was insinuating, approaching the dock to moor the boat. You hopped off to tie up the boat as Harry was swimming up to the dock boosting himself out of the water and grabbed his towel.

“Have a nice swim?” You stood up straight to see Harry was close behind.

“I did. Did you have a nice boat ride?” He was towel drying his hair before he started to wipe down his body.

“I did. Hey, do you want to hang out at the gazebo with me tonight? Just us?”

Harry stopped drying his legs and looked up at you with a slight shock. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, that would be cool.”

You smiled with a nod, “Good, we can meet up after dinner.” You walked over to give Harry a kiss on his cheek before grabbing your stuff from the boat and running inside.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry was already at your meeting spot, sitting on the banister and looking out to the lake. He had his go to flannel on and a beanie covering his unruly curls.

You walked up behind him and gently tapped his shoulder that cause him to turn to you.

“Hey.”

“Hey. Have you been here long?”

“Uh, no. Only a few probably. Did you have a good day?”

“I did, thank you. Did you?”

Right when Harry was about to respond, you hear the tell tale sign of a whistle followed by a loud pop that was the start of the firework show. Harry jumped mumbling a ‘fuck me’ as you rested your hands to cover his ears.

Harry looked up at you, blues, reds, and greens painting your skin from the sky. You looked down at Harry mouthing a ‘sorry’ and he quickly rested his hands on yours that were still covering his ears. He moved his hands down your forearms before gripping your waist, pulling you closer.

You were now settled standing between his knees, his fingers wiggling nervously on your hips. You continued to look down at him, gently brushing at his hair that your fingers can reach.

Harry couldn’t take it anymore, loudly asking, “Can I kiss you?” since his perception of sound was off due to you covering his ears. You let out light laugh, nodding as you lean down to slot your lips against his.

Harry hummed into the kiss, pulling you closer by your hips, moving his lips to have more of you. He pulled away to tell you louder than he anticipated that, “I have been waiting so long to do that!”

You let out another laugh, kissing the side of his mouth, pulling away to tell him ‘me too’ before kissing him again.

That night, Harry was no longer afraid of fireworks because whenever he kissed you, all he could see and feel were the bright bursts of colors against your lips.

[megmachine]

Mistakes

A/N: this is the first section of my WIP star trek fic. See the tags before reading if your interested, and please let me know what you think! 

The last time Jim ever saw his aunt alive, she was crying. He was thirteen and being led onto a bus alongside his cousins and had glanced out the darkened window on a whim. She had been standing in the doorway to their farmhouse, clutching little Sarah’s favorite blanket, arguing with one of the large men dressed in black that had come to take them back. The man had laid his hand on his belt, saying something, and Aunt Josie had broken down crying. Through a cloud of red dust as they drove away, Jimmy saw her fall to her knees and sob. Tear tracks cut through the dirt on her face, leftovers from when they’d been playing in the garden earlier. They turned a corner and trees finally blocked his view, and he turned back to talk to his cousins.

He was only supposed to be on Tarsus IV for six months. Driving the car into the canyon had been the last straw, and even though they’d ‘worked things out’ with the cops, Jimmy knew he’d pushed too hard. Frank was fed up with him and he’d been suspended from school again and his mother was still out there, exploring space without him. Winona said she would be earthside ‘in just six months, Jimmy, it’s only six months,’ and that this was just a stopgap to get him away from his step-father.  What a load of bull that was, not that he’d say it to her face. Two months in, when he moved into boarding school full-time and wasn’t counting down the days till his shuttle home, Winona messaged him. She told him her ship, the U.S.S. Faragaut, would be delayed eight additional months and for the first time, he wasn’t heartbroken. Fourteen months in the colony, he could make it fourteen months. His aunt actually liked him, she never even hit him, and his cousins didn’t treat him like a burden the way Sam used to. Classes challenged him, for the most part, and he got to go back home every weekend to see his aunt and the farmhouse. Sure, meals weren’t that big, but Jimmy had never really gone hungry here, either. Tarsus was good. Life was good. 

This time, though, as the farmhouse faded from view, he could tell his Aunt knew something was different. Clouds of red dust obscured his view and it felt like he was losing something, somewhere he’d finally started to call home. It was silly to get so melancholy about a semester at boarding school, he’d thought. He’d thought a lot of things that ended up being wrong.

It was two Saturdays later when Jimmy and Will wondered if something was wrong. A full two weeks since they had seen the rest of their family. They were sitting on his cousin’s bed, each with a PADD in hand, working on their homework. Their teacher, Hoshi, had been grilling them on languages, and despite Jimmy’s efforts Will couldn’t grasp Vulcansu conjugations. 

“No, see, it’s a past tense irregular verb, and you forgot the hyphen-”

“Jimmy.” Will interrupted him, something he never did. His face, normally an open book, was drawn and stiff. Jimmy held his tongue and swallowed back his knee-jerk snarky response. His cousin took a deep breath, held it for five seconds, and let it out in a huff.  

“I’m worried about my mom. She hasn’t been responding to my comms all week, and Mr. Davies told me we aren’t doing home visits next weekend, either. I just… I know you think it’s stupid to get all worked up over family, but this isn’t like her.”

Neither of them said anything for a minute, both brains running through the options. Finally, Jimmy sighed. He knew his cousin well enough to know where his mind had immediately gone, and had an idea of how to deal with it. 

“Look, Will, I do understand where you’re coming from. If you’re really that worried about Aunt Josie, how about we go see her? Will that make you feel better?” Jimmy tossed his PADD aside and stood up, stretching his arms over his head and groaning exaggeratedly. Honestly, he’d been wanting to stretch his legs too, but hadn’t had the right opportunity to sneak out until this moment. 

His cousin wasn’t convinced yet, though. “What do you mean? How are we supposed to get home if buses aren’t running to the farm?”

Jimmy smirked, tilting his head and glancing back. “Why, we’ll be breaking out, of course!”

That line sealed the deal. After all, Will was a bad boy at heart, too.

It was dark out by the time they could put their plan into motion. The double moons were rising in the west, casting everything outside the range of the street lamps in a faint, pale light. They took a walk in the botany gardens after dinner, a fairly inconspicuous thing to do. Subconsciously, Jimmy noted that a few of the plants seemed wilted, white flecks spotting a few lower leaves, but he wasn’t a botanist and so made no comment. Will kept an eye on the teachers that patrolled the area while Jimmy made his way to a shadowy corner, the one place he knew of that the cameras wouldn’t see him. From there, he accessed the security system from his PADD - he’d been teaching himself programming since he was five, sitting in the back of his kindergarten classroom, it was a breeze to hack these types of systems - and ran a loop of camera feed. From there the two made their way to the chain link fence that surrounded the school. 

The principal told them it was to keep wildlife out, since Tarsus had some rather nasty native predators. Of course, there was a hole in the fence that Jimmy had known about for a few weeks, and nothing had managed to get in, so he didn’t know the validity of that statement. The gap was barely big enough for him to squeeze through, scrawny as he was, but he’d kept it in the back of his mind in case he ever wanted to sneak out. There hadn’t been anything suspicious going on, at least as far as he was aware, so he’d had no reason to utilize it before this night. He was enjoying his classes, and had no reason to mess around. At, least, not until then.

Jimmy went through first. After making sure the coast was clear, Will forced his way out, too. The fencing groaned, and they both held their breath for a minute before determining no one else had heard. After that, it was smooth sailing for the rest of their ‘escape.’ The fence opened up into a thick forest, full of a mix of native and terran flora that formed a dense canopy and heavy shadows. They could still use the moonlight and their knowledge of direction to make their way towards the nearby town of New Franklin. The school they attended was fairly secluded, so their hike took nearly an hour. The principal and teachers, when asked, had said that the governor thought it important that students learn astronomy and botany and all types of things you couldn’t study well in the city, so their school was the only thing this far out. They were surrounded by forests on one side, and a massive plain on the other, and as far as one could see there was no other sign of civilization. When he first got there, Jimmy had thought all the greenery was wonderful. Now he was starting to hate it, as he was slapped in the face by yet another palm frond-looking thing.

Eventually, pushing through the thick greenery native to Tarsus, Jimmy thought he could hear the murmur of human life. It was about time - they still had to consider the hour-long drive to and from the farmhouse, and he wanted to get a little bit of sleep that night. Their plan was to either hitch a ride from a kind stranger, an idea Jimmy wasn’t a big fan of, or steal a vehicle, something Will didn’t like - even though Jimmy had argued that they wouldn’t really be stealing, they'd be borrowing with the intent to bring it back unscratched. That argument was part of why they’d gotten started so late, and now Tarsus’ first moon was more than halfway through the sky. Its blue face watched them as they foraged on through the woods, unwavering and unyielding in its faint light. 

They popped out on a paved road, the outlines of squat, wide-spread buildings against the tapestry of stars the only sign of civilization. There were next to no lights on, Jimmy noticed. No street lamps, or illuminated windows, or headlights. He’d have thought the town was dead, if not for the hum of generators he could still make out. A curfew, then? Why? Neither of them had any answers, but this did throw a wrench in both their transportation options. More so Will’s favored plan than his own, though his would be difficult to pull off too. 

Well, there was no way around it. The two boys exchanged glances - neither had said a word their whole adventure other than to warn the other of a hole or tree branch, too scared of being heard and caught - and advanced towards the dead town. Jimmy knew more than enough about hotwiring to be able to steal most civilian vehicles, and Will had been driving aunt Josie’s truck for the past year, so they were rather confident in their abilities. But that all depended on whether or not they would find something to steal. 

The first couple of buildings they approached were barren. Jimmy could make out the muffled sound of human voices and movement behind the walls, but there were no vehicles other than a couple of rusting bikes parked out front. The first hovercar they saw was all black and parked in the middle of town square. The engine was still running, but no one was sitting inside the car. Jimmy made a mental note of it and kept creeping along, hoping for a less suspicious get-away vehicle. The next one they saw was sitting in front of a small house. The car itself had four wheels and more than a little bit of rust, but it obviously hadn’t been used in the past few hours. The house it was parked near, similarly, didn’t show any signs of life. Neither Jimmy nor Will wanted to think very hard about that fact. Still, this was a better option, less likely to be noticed missing if they could get away quietly. Jimmy cracked his knuckles, gave his cousin a grin, and eased the driver’s door open.

Since he’d been old enough to start developing his fine motor skills, Jimmy had been playing with wires. Maybe not a sign of the safest childhood, but it certainly had its perks. For one, he could open a panel inside any car, four-wheeled or hovering, and get it running in under five minutes if it was a model from the past half-century. Thankfully, this one was. Another thing Jimmy was thankful for, he considered once the engine hummed to life, was that 23rd century cars were so much quieter than previous renditions. Not even the house a block over could hear it starting up. Will nudged his cousin over, crawling into the driver side and adjusting the seat to his liking. 

“I’m still sticking by my argument that I could drive this puppy just as well as you,” Jimmy grumbled from where he was buckling himself into the passenger seat. 

Will ignored him, throwing the car into gear and ever-so-slowly crawling out of the driveway and onto the road. “How the hell am I supposed to navigate all the way home if I can’t turn on the headlights?” he hissed, peering over the steering wheel in a way that didn’t really give Jimmy much confidence in his abilities. 

He sighed, hunching over the center console and pulling out more wires from Will didn’t even know where. In between stripping colorful rubber with his teeth, Jimmy explained himself. “Most modern cars actually have the ability to display an active infrared view through the windshield - night vision. It’s better than using the headlights, actually, but we humans are too attached to the way things have always been to use it. Manufacturers even got rid of the easy-access switch, but they never bothered to get rid of the tech itself. Lucky us.” He spared a second to glance up at his cousin, grinning wildly, before twisting two bare wires together and clipping them to a circuit board. Jimmy had no idea how like his mother he looked in that second, and the excited expression faded almost as suddenly as it had appeared. 

The windshield display flickered once, twice, before the pitch black landscape became visible in various shades of green and grey. The compass, temperature read out, and clock reappeared in their usual location (lining the top of the windshield, out of immediate eyeline), now a bright white against hunter green shadows. 

Jimmy almost whoop-ed, catching himself at the last second and instead silently punched the air. “What’re you waiting for, Willy?” He snickered, flopping back into his seat. Will grumbled something about ‘cocky little nerds’ and eased his way down the pavement, gradually making his way out the town as a pace that had both of them out of their minds with boredom before they’d even made it a mile. 

It took a little over ninety minutes to get to aunt Josie’s farmhouse. More often than either of them wanted to acknowledge, they’d pulled off the road and held their breaths, paranoid that they were being followed, only to laugh at themselves when no one showed up. Jimmy didn’t voice the alternative - that they were being stalked, toyed with. Will was on edge enough as it were. 

The lights were off when they pulled up. Neither were that worried - Aunt Josie had always been more of a morning person, after all. Her red pickup was still parked under the carport. As they walked up to the front door, Jimmy watched his cousin unwind, tension easing out of his muscles. Will pushed the door open - again, not worrying, they lived far enough in the country to not bother with locks - and stepped into the kitchen. The house was silent. Jimmy followed, hands in his pockets but eyes darting around the heavily shadowed room. 

Making their way deeper into the house, Will seemed to relax further and further while Jimmy felt the hairs on his neck stand up. Something felt off, but he couldn’t put his finger on what exactly was wrong. It was a somewhat similar feeling to what he would get when Frank was about to come home, full of cheap liquor and anger he’d take out on Jimmy and Sam. The air felt stale in his lungs. At the end of the hallway, the door to Aunt Josie’s bedroom was closed. 

Will was smiling as he nudged the door open. He took a deep breath, ready to call out to his mom, ready to be reassured of her health and safety. The next second he was hunched over, hands clasped over his mouth and stomach rolling. The smell of decay overwhelmed them, and Jimmy finally identified what, exactly, was wrong. 

Aunt Josie was laying on the ground near her bed, an archaic bullet hole through her chest. The light grey rug under her body was stained dark brown with old blood. While Will clung to the doorframe, trying desperately to keep his dinner down, Jimmy stumbled forward to her side. He’d always heard that people were peaceful in death, but Aunt Josie looked as distraught as she’d been when he last saw her, through a school bus window, two weeks ago. Her body was breaking down, past rigor mortis and well along in the bloating process. Deep tan skin was now motley green. The stink of rotting meat and excrement and who knew what else was thick in the air, having been trapped in the room with her. Dark liquid covered the wood floor, leaking out from her body, more fluid than one would expect from a corpse. If he looked closely, which he tried not to, he could see the small movement of maggots and cadaverous bugs within her small wound and under the skin. 

Saliva pooled in Jimmy’s mouth and he turned away, stumbling out of the room before collapsing to his knees and retching. Will staggered after him, pale and sweating. Neither of them said a word for the longest time. Will was barely breathing, not making a sound as tears pooled in his eyes and ran, silently, down his cheeks. 

“How long has she been dead?” he finally whispered, choking on the word.

Jimmy hated how his mind automatically went through the stages of decomposition, hated how for a split second he could objectively analyze how far along the body (his aunt, not the body, it was his aunt lying there) was. He was barely aware of his lips moving and the words coming out of his mouth. “It takes around eight days for discoloration to start. She’s probably been… for over a week.” 

“Fuck.”

It took another ten minutes for either of them to move. Jimmy pulled himself to his feet, dragged his cousin behind him, and made his way towards the front door. Will didn’t make a sound as he was led along, eyes unfocused and staring into the distance. It was past midnight at this point, and Jimmy knew they had to get going if they wanted to avoid being caught out. As he passed the kitchen table, a stack of mail caught his attention and he grabbed them, curious, glancing over the words. 

‘In response to your request… Cannot supply more rations… Distress signal…’

Jimmy swallowed and stuffed the papers in his coat pocket without a second thought. 

Will was still unresponsive when they reached the stolen car, and without a second thought Jimmy shoved him into the passenger seat before climbing behind the wheel. Driving this old thing couldn’t be more difficult than the corvette, and this time he wasn’t trying to run from Frank and the cops and Riverside. Jimmy didn’t spare a second to glance in the rearview mirror as he pulled away from the farmhouse. If he did, he wouldn’t have been able to leave. 

It was only when they got close to town that Jimmy noticed they were being tailed. At first he thought it was a figment of his paranoid imagination. It was barely there, in the corner of his eye, and his cousin was of no help in differentiating real from fabricated. Will hadn’t spoken a word since the farmhouse. Jimmy stepped on the gas a hair and fixed his eyes on the road in front of him, ignoring the tingling in the back of his mind. 

Jimmy pulled off on the side of the road and stared out the back window. He’d seen it again, bigger and more obvious. He was 85% sure there really was something out there, in the black of Tarsus night. Either way, he wasn’t too keen on getting caught, so they would be legging it through the woods the rest of the way back. He hopped out of the car and led Will behind him into the dense forest. He'd finally started responding when Jimmy asked him questions, and could see his surroundings well enough to avoid low hanging branches.

“Come on, we’ve got to go, they’re behind us Will, we’ve got to hide,” Jimmy panted in his cousin’s ear. They were making far too much noise, stepping on twigs and getting slapped by branches. He just hoped they could get far enough ahead of the people stalking them, out of hearing range and back to school before sunrise.

 Just as the thought crossed his mind, he heard boots stomping through the undergrowth after them. “Hey! Where’d you go? You know the punishment for breaking curfew, it’ll hurt less if you just stop running!” The overt threat of pain and punishment sent a chill down Jimmy’s spine and he couldn't let himself get lost in memories of Frank, he had to get his cousin back to safety. He grit his teeth and made a conscious effort to be quieter, shushed Will when he spat a curse at a vine that tangled around his leg but it was too late. Bright flashlight beams cut through the greenery and into Will’s face and shouts filled the air. 

Then they are running through the woods, abandoning all hope at subtlety and there are crashing footsteps behind them, the high pitched whine of phaser blasts and deep voices calling out promises of pain, and - 

Will trips over a branch, twists his ankle, and Jimmy hauls his cousin up and behind him. He’s limping and leaning heavily on the younger boy but Jimmy clings tight to him. He won’t lose more of his family, he won’t, not after Sam, he can help Will, it’s not too much further to the fence and if they can just lose these guards they’ll be fine.

Gunshots and phaser fire follow them, sinking into tree trunks in their wake, cutting through leaves and then they hit something definitively not wood and Will is screaming, crying, begging Jimmy to stop but he’s bleeding out all over Jimmy and it’s too much, too much, he can’t make it stop please make it stop! There’s a hole in his stomach, gaping in what little moonlight is filtering through the tree branches. Hot blood is burning his hands, his face, and he can’t put enough pressure on the wound while trying to run and he can’t stop running or they’re both dead. They’re both so, so dead.

Will is clawing at Jimmy’s hand and at first he grips it tight, trying to take some of the pain from his cousin, but he’s being slapped and Will is glaring at him with as much strength as he can muster, though it’s fading fast. Jimmy has never seen so much fire in those brown eyes until now. He’s wheezing, but he can force out a mouthful of words. “Leave me, Jimmy. You gotta get out of here.” The men are gaining on them and they don’t have much time left. Will lets himself go limp, still staring at Jimmy, shrugging out of his hold and collapsing onto the ground. He shoves him once, for good measure, when Jimmy stops moving. “Go!” Will shouts, the force of his words making blood spew from his paling lips.

 Jimmy runs. He runs, and doesn’t look back. 

[delicatetaylorsversion]

first time riding a horse 😊