#well i hope it arrives on wednesday or maybe thursday

[fire-gift]

I just paid my order and i'm getting the iwtv book this wednesday 😭❤

[uncpanda]

The Ties That Bind: The Wedding

AN: After 10 million years, please enjoy the wedding!

The Ties That Bind Master List

You’re in the middle of making sub plans in preparation for being off Thursday and Friday. It was Wednesday now, and since your wedding dress wouldn’t be ready for at least another month, you had to go find something to get married in on Friday. You were just going to wear one of your regular dresses, but when you had said that Aaron, Jack, Jess, and Spencer had thrown a fit. 

You’re heading down to the work room, to print out what will be needed while you’re gone, when you hear the tell tale signs of heels against the floor. Your eyebrows shoot up at the sight of Penny, Will, and Jess coming down the hall, led by your principal. 

“Ms. Reed.” 

You smile and greet her, “Ms. Preston.” 

“I hear the wedding has been moved up.” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

She gives you a gentle smile, “Your friends told me why, and it’s time for you to go.” 

You wince, “I still have a few things to finish.” 

“Nonsense. Send me everything in an email, and I’ll handle it from there.” 

Penny shoots you a thumbs up, and you nod, “Alright. Thank you.” 

She laughs, and waves off your thanks, “I hope you have an amazing wedding.” 

“Thank you.”

Ms. Preston nods and heads off. You look at your friends, “Thank you.” 

Penny giggles and takes your hands, “Come on. We have shopping to do!” 

You laugh, “I have to get my stuff first.” 

You lead them to your classroom. You let them look around while you send the email to Ms. Preston, and then you start packing up your things. The four of you head out in Will’s car. Penny talks the entire way there, “Okay, so I have no idea what your actual wedding dress looks like. You know since I didn’t get to tag along.” 

Jess shoots you a look. Penny hadn’t been mad that you’d gone without her, but she had been bugging you for details ever since. You still intended to wear that dress for your wedding ceremony. 

You laugh, “It was spur of the moment Penny, and you were working a case.” 

“Well I’m thinking we should go for fun. Maybe a tea length dress? Or? Ohhhh! A wedding pant suit.” 

You laugh. To be honest you’re more than a little tired. The last few days have been a whirlwind. You’ve been busy preparing Aaron to ship out to Pakistan, trying to help Jack work through his emotions and prepare him for going months without his father, and you’ve had everyday life. It’s sweet that they want to make this special for you, but you really plan on keeping this simple and waiting for the big ceremony. However, if this really makes them happy, you’re happy to do it. 

You live to regret those words when Penny drags you to no less than ten stores. You’re not even sure how she manages it. You end up at stores waaay after closing in a few cases, but everyone seems more than happy to be open for you. You suppose Penny really does know everyone, and everyone really does love Penny. 

Still, when it hits ten o’clock, you’re done. Thankfully you aren’t the only one who feels that way. Will, who is next to you, watching Penny and Jess argue over a certain dress, leans in and says, “I think you were smart to just take Jess and Jack the first time.” 

“I think Aaron and I better damn well stay married, because a divorce and new marriage might just kill me, and I’m not talking emotionally.” Will laughs. 

You head home without a dress, and Penny tells you to be ready first thing in the morning to try again. You and Will whimper. Luckily Aaron is waiting for you. Jack has long gone to bed, but Aaron is on the couch, with a tumbler of what looks like whiskey. It’s barely been touched. He takes one look at you, and opens his arms. 

You go to him and snuggle in. It makes you want to cry, because you know you won’t be able to snuggle with him for much longer . . . for a long time. He kisses the top of your head. “I love you.” 

You yawn, “Love you too.” And with that the two of you head to bed. 

True to word Penny and Jess arrive early the next morning with a very sleepy and grumpy Will. Aaron puts travel mugs with very strong coffee into your hands, and another into Will’s. Will looks like he could kiss your fiance. Penny tugs the two of you out before that can happen. 

**** 

While you are wedding dress shopping Aaron is trying to take care of other things. He has the appointment made at city hall, and he’s in the process of trying to make a reservation at a nice restaurant, but it’s hard when it’s last minute. 

He’s on the phone with a restaurant he’s taken you to a few times, when there’s a knock on the door. He opens it up and finds Dave, Morgan, and Spencer storm in. He lets out a groan, when the restaurant says there’s no room for Friday. 

He hangs up. “What are you all doing here?” 

Dave smiles, “We have come to help out. Flowers will be delivered shortly, along with our suits. I have also made a reservation at a fabulous restaurant for your wedding after party.” 

Aaron raises an eyebrow, “How did you manage that?” 

“I’m rich Aaron.” 

He glances at Spencer and Morgan. Morgan is smart enough to not say anything, Spencer on the other hand, “That seems like a fairly obvious conclusion.” 

He just barely resists slapping the back of his soon to be brother’s head. 

Dave carries on, “The only bad thing is, we have to put the boutonnieres and bouquets together.” 

Aaron can’t resist, “What happened to being rich?” 

Dave waves it off, “They wanted a ridiculous amount of money to put them together on short notice. I’m rich not stupid. And how hard can it be to put together some flowers?” 

There’s a moment of silence before Spencer says, “I believe that is what people call, famous last words.” 

****

You listen as Jess and Penny argue at the front of a small vintage store. Will is following you around as you look through the dresses on the hanger. That’s when you find it. You smile to yourself as you pull it from the hanger. You look at Will, and he grins. 

“Try it on, and if that’s the dress, don’t let Penny or Jess see you in it.” 

You stare at him, “Feeling a little evil?” 

“Twenty seven stores. They’ve dragged us to twenty seven stores, and that was after making me try on nineteen different suits in order to find the right one for Aaron and Jack and the others. And then I had to watch as they tried on bridesmaid dresses. I’m ready to conquer the world.” 

You bite back a laugh, and head into the dressing room. The dress looks amazing on you. It gives you the same feeling as the other. You quickly show Will who gives his stamp of approval, and you change.

You sneak back up while Will makes a distraction, and check out. You come up behind Jess and Penny as they fuss at Will for something. You clear your throat, “I’m ready to go.” 

They both spin and look at the hanging bag you’re holding. Both of their mouths drop open, but neither says anything for a moment. Finally, Penny says, “You still need shoes.” 

Will curses, and then says, “You have got to be kidding me!” 

You smile, and head home. You give the dress to Will who takes it and hides it from Penny and Jess. He promises to hide it from JJ too.

You enter the apartment to find Aaron and a crying Jack. 

You head to Jack’s room, where Aaron is holding him. You can just make out his words. “I don’t want you to leave. I want you to stay.” 

You settle on the bed next to them, and place your hand on Jack’s back. You rub up and down and then sandwich him between you and Aaron. Eventually, Jack calms down and you try to reassure him, “We are going to skype with daddy, every day. And I promise I’m going to be here the entire time, and Aunt Jess too. And we’ll spend time with Uncle Dave and Uncle Spencer.” 

A teary eyed Jack nods snuggles into the both of you. 

******* 

You get married at eleven in the morning. You’re in a last minute dress, and you’d gotten ready in the courthouse bathroom with the rest of the girls. It’s nothing like you expected, and yet you don’t regret it. 

Spencer is waiting for you as your group of girls, plus Will, step out of the bathroom. He smiles at the sight of you. The others go on ahead, leaving you and your brother alone. 

He kisses your cheek, and then you pull him into a hug. Quietly you whisper, “Who knew?” 

Spencer pulls back, “Who knew what?” 

“Who knew, that all those years ago, when mom brought you home, that you would be one of the best things to ever happen, and that you would lead me to other amazing things.” 

Spencer smiles, “I had to pay you back for raising me, and taking care of me, and everything else.” 

“That was my pleasure.” 

“I love you, sis.” 

You hug him again, “Love you too.” 

With those words he offers his arm, and walks you to the very small aisle in the justice of the peace’s office. The moment you lock eyes with Aaron, you feel a feeling of completion fall over you. You’re ready for the future. 

[avastrasposts]

A Baker's Dozen - Seven

Twelve Pedro boys, twelve stand alone short stories, all set in the same bakery.

Hello!

Javi P got a lot of attention last week, both his visit to the bakery and for the many Pickled Peña fics he starred in. Thank you so much for all the lovely comments! It really means more than you probably reaslise! It's been a rough week and I feel lucky to have found a great community here and to have found so much fun and enjoyment in writing to keep my mind off things.

This week's Pedro boy is dedicated to my lovely friend @secretelephanttattoo who is not only an amazing writer, but also one of the best people I've meet on Tumblr. Love you ❤

Series Master List

Working in a bakery almost every day means you pick up on people’s habits, whether they come into the shop or not. You know the bookshop owner across the streets always arrives ten minutes late on Tuesdays. The bodega owner next to your bakery always picks up his dry cleaning on Fridays and the dry cleaning lady always throws out her trash on Thursday evening. And you know that the cute guy with a dimpled smile always walks past your shop at about eight forty-five every weekday morning. 

He hasn’t always walked past, it started just a few weeks ago, but now it’s routine. You’d first noticed him when he stumbled over something on the sidewalk, smacking his hand against your window to keep his balance, and making you jump. He’d given you an apologetic smile, that’s how you know he’s got a deep dimple on his left cheek. And a really, really, great smile. 

The next morning you noticed him again as he glanced in through the window and smiled, a quick wave as he hurried down the street. And the same thing the next morning and then it was a routine. Around eight forty-five, between customers, you’d keep glancing over at the window until you see him walk past in his well fitted business suit, always a tie flapping in the breeze. He has a routine with those too you notice; a blue tartan pattern on Mondays, slate gray on Tuesdays, navy blue with white dots on Wednesday and the then tartan one again on Thursdays before he ditches the ties on Fridays. You wouldn’t go as far as saying that seeing him is the highlight of your day, but when one day he doesn’t pass by, you notice. And when the rest of the week passes and he doesn’t show up at all, you feel a little bit sad, even though you never even spoke with him. 

Monday morning, eight thirty, and you’re working your way through the morning rush, serving coffee and selling croissants and cinnamon rolls, he suddenly appears again. But this time he’s in front of your counter, holding on to a credit card as he smiles down at you. 

“Hi,” he says, the dimple deep in his cheek, “I thought it was about time I stopped by and said hello properly.” 

“Hi,” you say, a little breathless, he’s even cuter, and handsome, up close, and you’re suddenly very aware of your shiny face, straggly hair and stained apron. 

“I’m Marcus, Marcus Pike,” he says, holding out his hand, “I’m the creepy guy who slams into your window and never comes inside.” 

“Hi Marcus,” you reply, taking his hand, hoping yours isn’t too sweaty and clammy, “I’m the creepy baker who stares at you every morning.” 

He laughs at that, a warm sound that makes your spine tingle as his eyes crinkle at the corners, a wide smile making another dimple pop on his cheek. 

“I guess we need to be less creepy then,” he chuckles, “maybe I can start by buying a coffee like a normal customer?” 

“That sounds like a good start,” you smile back at him, “what would you like?” 

“A cappuccino, please,” he glances up at the coffee menu behind you. 

“Coming right up, anything else?” You motion at the fresh croissants and pain au chocolat piled up on the counter and he looks at them with longing. 

“I would love too, really…but my job, we’ve got this fitness test thing in a few weeks and I’ve got to be in shape for that. That’s why I started walking to work, instead of taking the metro.” 

“Come back when the test is done then, if you pass, it’ll be on the house,” you wink at him over your shoulder as you start preparing his cappuccino. 

“Now there’s the motivation I need,” Marcus laughs, stepping back and glancing over the selection inside the display cases, “But you don’t have my favorite I think.” 

“No? What’s your favorite then?” you ask, “No, wait, don’t tell me, let me guess.” 

“Ok,” Marucs smiles as you hand him the cappuccino in a takeaway cup,” what’s my favorite?” 

You look him up and down, and he grins and takes a step back so that you can see all of him, holding out his arms and giving you a little spin. 

“Hmm…business suit, always a tie, well polished shoes and a job that requires fitness tests…” you hum, enjoying the chance he’s given you at properly taking him in. His suit stretches almost  tight over his broad shoulders, hugging his biceps, and when he holds out his arms, the shirt underneath hangs on for dear life. The suit jacket lifts up over his butt as he turns and you’re given the privilege of eyeing it for the first time. It’s just as cute as the rest of him and you have to mentally chastise yourself for ogling. 

“What’s your guess?” he smiles, coming to a stop in front of you again. 

“Carrot cake, but you wipe off the frosting to stay healthy,” you say and he manages to look both cute, amused and offended at the same time. 

“No way, I would never sacrifice the frosting!” he says, pretending to be insulted as he grins, “but nice try, I really like carrot cake, but it’s not my favorite.” 

“Hmm…maybe-”

“No,” he interrupts you with a wave of his hand, “you get only one guess per day, you can guess again tomorrow.” He gives you a warm smile and as he taps his credit card to pay for the coffee.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, keep guessing,” he says, stepping aside to let the man who’s just stepped into the shop approach the counter. With a final wave he disappears out through the door. 

The next morning he turns up again, as the morning rush dies down, and orders another cappuccino. 

“Canéles,” you say, pointing at him. “Fancy, French, just the thing a guy in a smart, well tailored suit would like.” 

Marcus grins and shakes his head, “I don’t even know what they are, but keep guessing!”

“Give me more clues then!” you protest as he takes a sip of the coffee you just handed him. 

“Hmm…I used to play bass in a band in college,” he says and you raise your eyebrows. He does not look like a bass player, or any kind of band member for that matter. 

“Special brownies?” you ask with a wink and Marcus almost spits out his coffee. 

“Definitely not,” he splutters, chuckling as he wipes his chin, “and you only get one guess per day.” 

“Says who?” you ask, but you already know the answer, Marcus’s grin tells you. 

“I do, my game, my rules,” he gives you a wink and heads for the door, “see you tomorrow!” 

Wednesday he comes in a little bit earlier and hands you a travel mug. 

“This looks brand new,” you say and he nods. 

“Decided I should save on the environment, and your takeaway mugs,” he smiles, leaning on the counter while you start preparing his coffee, “What’s your guess today then?” 

“Cinnabons,” you say, glancing over your shoulder, feeling butterflies erupt in your belly when his face splits into a wide grin. But he shakes his head and you give him a mock scowl. 

“You’re impossible to guess!” 

“Keep trying, gives me a reason to come in every morning,” he replies, “Not that I need a reason though,” he adds, a pink flush suddenly creeping up from beneath his shirt collar as he gives you an uncharacteristically shy smile. 

“I’ll keep trying if you promise to keep coming in,” you smile back at him, you can feel heat creeping up your own cheeks as you hand him his travel mug. And of course his fingers touch yours, just a light brush, but enough for both of you to glance down at your hands. You jump a little as his breath catches and when you look up at him again, his lips are parted and you see the tip of his tongue peak out, just for a split second, before he composes himself. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” he smiles, “thanks for the coffee again.” 

Thursday he’s a little bit late, and he hurries through the door with his tie hanging around his neck, untied. 

“Sorry, I worked late last night and slept through my alarm this morning,” he huffs as he reaches the counter. 

“You don’t have to apologize to me,” you smile, “I only sell you your coffee,” you hand him the cappuccino you’ve already made him and he gives you a grateful look, “and let me fix your tie while you caffeinate yourself.” 

“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver,” he sighs and takes a long sip of the coffee as you walk around the counter and stand in front of him. You look up at him, taking hold of each end of his tie, and you suddenly realize you’ve never been this close to him before. There’s always been a counter between the two of you. Now he’s standing barely a foot away and you can smell his aftershave, warm and woody, as you adjust the tie. 

“Over…under…over again…” you mumble to yourself, trying to remember what your dad taught you, “up through the neck and down…there, got it,” you say, gently tightening the tie up against the collar as Marcus lifts his chin up, “but you might want to adjust it.” 

“No, it feels perfect,” he says, giving you a warm smile, “thank you.” 

“You’re welcome,” you smile back at him, tilting your head up a little to be able to meet his eyes now that he’s standing so close. You should really move back but he smells good and his eyes are so soft looking, the way he just smiles at you. 

“What’s your guess?” he asks, smoothing his hand down over his tie as you drop yours to the side. 

“What?” you mumble, slightly distracted by how his throat bobs just over the knot in the tie where your hands just where. 

“What’s your guess for my favorite baked thing?” Marcus says again and you blink, catching on. 

“Oh, of course! Uhmm…brownies? But real brownies, gooey in the middle and crunchy corners?” 

“Oh….that is definitely high up on my list, but not my absolute favorite, you’re getting close though,” he grins at you, putting down his coffee mug on the counter. 

“I’ve got to run, but….are you free tomorrow, after work?” he asks, his eyebrows knotting together as he waits for your answer. 

“Yeah, I’m free,” you say, you can’t stop the smile breaking out on your face at the question and he smiles back at you. 

“If you want, I’d really like to have dinner with you, maybe we can both drink something this time?” 

“That sounds nice, I’d like that, Marcus,” you reply, butterflies multiplying in your belly as he gently puts his hand on your arm, “and I’ll definitely figure out what your favorite is by then.” 

“It’s a date then,” he grins, “you supply my favorite and I’ll sort the rest, I’ll come by at closing, ok?” 

You nod and before you know it, he’s leaned in and pressed a soft kiss on your cheek, “I’ll see you tomorrow evening.” 

Friday morning Marcus stops by and buys his, by now, regular coffee, “So what’s my favorite?” he asks with a cheeky grin and you stick your tongue out at him. 

“Not telling you,” you smirk at him, “I’ll serve it tonight, I’m pretty sure I’ve got it figured out now.”

“I can’t wait,” he chuckles, winking at you before he grabs his travel mug and hurries off to work. 

Your day drags on and your nerves tingle every time you glance up at the clock at the wall. When the shop quietens down after lunch you prepare what you hope is Marcus’s favorite dessert, putting it in the fridge for baking later. 

Just a few minutes before the clock hits closing time you hear the jingle of the doorbell and look up to see Marcus step through it. He’s changed out of his usual business suit and is wearing a leather jacket over a gray t-shirt and jeans, a bright smile as he gives you a wave. You ring up your final customer, bidding them a nice weekend as Marcus lingers to the side, and then you get a chance to say hello to him as you go to lock the door and flip the sign. 

“Hi Marcus,” you smile at him as he steps forward.

“Hi,” he says, leaning down and brushing his lips against your cheek, leaving the spot tingling and your skin warm. When he straightens up he smiles at you, his eyes soft and crinkling at the corners, “I hope you don’t mind, but I have a slightly unusual plan,” he says, pointing to the duffel bag he’s got hanging from his shoulder, “Dinner’s on me, but in your kitchen.” 

“You’re cooking for me?” you ask and he nods. 

“Seems only fair, you’re making dessert, so I do the rest….well…” he gives a little embarrassed shrug, “with a little bit of help from my favorite restaurant.” 

“Sounds like a nice plan,” you say, putting your hand on his arm and his smile brightens again, “come, let me show you the kitchen then.” 

You lead him past the counter and into the back room, the kitchen clean and ready for tomorrow, except the dessert for Marcus. “What do you need?” you ask, “Help yourself to anything.” 

“First of all, I need you to sit down,” he says with a smile, looking around the kitchen for a chair and spotting only the stool with wheels on, “Not many places to sit in here, huh?” 

“When would I have time to just sit around?,” you laugh, taking your apron off and throwing it in the dirty laundry basket in the back room, “I usually just sit on the counter.” You heave yourself up onto the large workbench as Marcus starts unpacking his duffel bag. He’s hung his jacket on the hook by the door and now he’s crouched down, digging through the content at his feet. The gray t-shirt hugs his shoulders, stretching tight over his back and riding up, exposing a strip of bare skin just above his jeans. It’s so far from the man in the well fitted business suits you’ve been seeing every morning for the past few weeks, a much more relaxed Marcus. 

“Do you wear the suits every day because your job requires you too?” you ask, taking the opportunity to stretch your tired back as you get settled on the counter, baking all day takes a toll on your body. 

“Yeah, I don’t mind them but I prefer the days when I don’t have to wear them,” he answers, standing up and placing a stack of boxes next to you on the counter. “No peeking,” he says in a stern voice, smirking at you and you hold up your hands. 

“I’m not touching anything,” you reply, “But I never asked what you work with?” 

“I work at the FBI, with art theft,” he says and you widen your eyes. 

“Don’t tell me you’re an FBI agent?”

“Yeah,” he furrows his brow as he looks over at you, “do you..is- is that a problem?” 

“No, no, not at all, I’ve just never met an FBI agent. It makes being a baker seem very tame is all.” 

“Maybe tame is good sometimes,” he chuckles and looks around the kitchen and his brow furrows again, “Hhmm…hang on, I’ll be right back,” he says, grabbing the bag and going out into the shop again, “No peeking!”. 

“What are you doing?” you call out to him as you hear tables and chairs being moved around. 

“Nothing, just setting things up, just wait there,” he calls back and a few minutes later he comes back to the kitchen. 

“Now, let’s get dinner ready,” he smiles, “Plates and a small saucepan?” 

You direct him to them and soon he’s arranging food on two smaller plates. 

“Miss,” he says, winking at you and holding out his arm, “Let me show you to your table.” 

“How nice, please lead the way,” you smile at him and slip off the counter, taking his arm. He brings you out into the café part of the bakery and leads you to one of the small round tables by the window. He’s put a white table cloth on it and set two candles in the middle, another few candles arranged around the shop. The sun is setting outside and in the dim light of the shop the candles spread a golden glow, giving it an atmosphere you’ve never seen before. 

“Marcus…this is lovely, I’ve never had my shop look so nice before,” you say, sitting down as he pulls out the chair for you, “It’s so…romantic,” you let it slip out without thinking but Marcus puffs up a little and beams down at you.  

“I’m glad you like it, I really like your shop,” he smiles, “and I really like the shop owner, I wanted to make it special for you.”  

“You might be my very favorite customer, Marcus,” you smile back up at him, your cheeks heating up and he grins. 

“First course is coming right up,” he says with a smile and disappears into the kitchen. 

“You should give food walking tours of the city,” you joke as Marcus smiles at you from across the table. “I’m so full but I still want to go and eat at all your favorite places right now.” 

“I’d take them here first,” he says, “and make sure everyone knows where the best bakery in town is, but…” he leans forwards and grins at you, “Speaking of baking, I want to know if you’ve guessed my favorite dessert yet.” 

You give him a soft laugh and mimic his movement, leaning forward to meet him across the table, “I think I might have, I just need to go and turn on the oven and then they’ll be ready in a few minutes. But I just realized, you never said what my reward would be for guessing correctly.” 

Marcus hums, tapping his long fingers on his chin as he looks at you, a mischievous smile making the corner of his mouth curl up. 

“I don’t think we agreed on anything, but if you go turn on the oven and I’ll come up with something good,” he says, his smile widening, making your skin heat up as his eyes seem to suggest something enticing. 

Thank god for your industrial oven, it turns on and heats up to the right temperature in no time. While you pull out the dessert plates and take the ice cream out to soften, it hums to life and pings. The dessert goes in and you set a timer and go back out to Marcus, sitting down at the table again. 

“It just needs a few minutes,” you tell him, “did you come up with a reward?” 

“Yeah, I did, but what if you guess wrong?” he asks, “I need a reward too.” 

“If I’m wrong…” you say, thinking out loud, “you tell me your favorite, and no matter what it is, I’ll make it for you.” 

“That’s a nice idea,” Marcus smiles, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms, the t-shirt stretching tight over his biceps, you swear you can hear a seam ripping behind him, “but I like my idea better.” 

“What’s your idea then?” you ask, giving him a suspicious look, he’s got a very happy grin as he looks at you. 

“If you guess wrong, I can take you on a second date,” he says and you laugh, that’s probably the easiest reward he could’ve asked for and you see the corners of his eyes crinkle as he sees your laughter.

“Hardly a difficult reward, Marcus,” you smile at him and he gives you a warm smile back, “But what if I guess right, what’s my reward then?” 

“If you guess right, you get to take me on a second date,” he grins and you feel little happy bubbles in your chest as his soft eyes stay locked with yours, you can’t help but smile widely back at him. 

“Deal, Marcus,” you say, holding out your hand to him. He leans forward and takes it, his large hand enveloping yours, thick fingers gently closing around yours as you both shake on it. 

“I can smell chocolate,” he grins, glancing at the kitchen, “I think you’re on the right track.” 

“I know you, Marcus,” you laugh, “all serious business suits on the outside, but a wild child on the inside, bass player and all.” 

“Hardly the definition of a ‘wild child’,” Marcus chuckles, “now, if I’d been lead singer or lead guitar, then maybe.” 

“Well, the dessert is only a little bit of a wild child, the defining factor is that at its heart, it’s very romantic, just like you.” 

Marcus gives you a slightly embarrassed smile, “It’s that obvious, huh?” 

“That you’re a romantic? Of course, but I like it,” you smile softly back at him, turning off the timer that’s just gone off, “Moment of truth. Did I guess right or not?” 

“Doesn’t matter, I’m getting a second date either way,” he says, winking at you as you stand up and head to the kitchen. 

Pulling them out of the oven you quickly plate the dessert and scoop up the vanilla ice cream, finishing with a light dusting of cocoa. Your hip bumps open the door to the shop and Marcus watches you eagerly as you bring the plates over and set them down on the table. 

“If this is what I think it is, you’ve got yourself a second date,” he jokes and grins up at you. 

“That’s not helpful, Marcus,” you laugh, “either way, you’ve got yourself a second date.” 

“I know, that’s the beauty of this deal,” he chuckles, picking up his dessert spoon and looking at you expectantly, “Can I guess?” 

“Sure, go ahead,” you smile and he pokes the dessert lightly. 

“Chocolate fondant?” he asks, looking up at you, raising his eyebrows, before he digs the spoon in and cuts it open. The soft chocolate cake exterior gives way to a thick river of chocolate that pours out of the interior of the little cake. Marcus giggles and scoops up a bite of both cake and sauce and puts the spoon in his mouth, humming at the flavor and closing his eyes. You watch with pride as he tips his head back and moans, the spoon still in his mouth as he sucks it clean. 

“How did you know?” he asks, a bright smile on his face when he’s finally done with his first bite. 

You shrug and smile back at him, “You’re not a health freak, you didn’t recognise the more complicated French pastry, you like gooey brownies and you’re a romantic. Chocolate fondant seemed like the obvious choice. Decadent, sweet and just the right amount of fancy,” you grin at him. 

You take a spoonful from your own fondant and put it in your mouth, watching the chocolate flow out from the inside, just the right amount of undercooked to keep the inside flowing and warm. The chocolate flavor spreads across your tongue, paired with a hint of vanilla and salt, rich and warm and you let an involuntary moan escape. When you glance up you don’t miss the dark look Marcus gives you, his eyes fixed on your mouth as he takes another spoonful. 

“You really guessed right, I love chocolate fondant, but I’ve never had one this good before,” he says, humming around the big piece in his mouth. “How come you don’t have them in the shop? Actually, don’t have them in the shop, I’d buy them all every week.” 

You giggle at his blissed out face as he takes another big bite, dropping his head into the palm of his hand as he sucks the spoon clean, “It’s like hot chocolate, brownie and chocolate sauce all in one fluffy soft shell of cake.” 

“I’m glad I guessed right, seeing your happy face makes me happy,” you smile at him and the tips of his ears go a pink in the dim light as he clears his throat and chuckles. 

“Coming to your bakery makes me happy,” he smiles, scraping the last bit of fondant from the plate while he looks up at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners and it’s your time to feel the heat rise in your face, his grin widens as he sees you shift awkwardly in your chair and glance at him with a smile.  

“Really, getting my morning coffee has become the highlight of my day,” Marcus says, “How sad isn’t that?” 

“Not sad, you coming into the bakery every morning has been the highlight of my day,” you say, finishing off the fondant and putting the spoon down while Marcus watches you with a smile. He suddenly pushes his chair back and stands up, holding his hand out to you. 

“Dance with me,” he says, the warmth of his hand spreading across your palm and down your arm as he pulls you to your feet. 

“There’s no music, Marcus,” you laugh but he just grins and spins you around before catching you in his arms, one around your waist, the other still holding on to your hand as you put your own hand on his shoulder. 

“Who cares about the music,” he says, gently swaying you back and forth while he gives you a soft smile, “it was just a clever ruse to get to hold you.” His hand on the small of your back is lightly stroking the fabric of your shirt and you’re very close to him, pressed up against his chest as he holds you near, moving slowly in a circle. You can smell his aftershave, mixed in with the dark chocolate of the dessert and without thinking, your hand slips into the soft looking curls at the back of his neck. Marcus tilts his head as your fingers play with the silky strands, letting go of your hand and moving it slowly to cup your face, his thumb stroking the soft skin on your cheek as he seems to inhale slightly and dip his head to yours.  

His lips are just as soft as you’ve imagined them, warm, gentle, as he parts them and tastes you. His steady hand holds you close, the curve of his strong nose brushing up against your cheek as he angles his head to better kiss you. You feel your fingers gripping his hair, willing him to press you even closer to him. All of his warm, solid body is pressed up against yours, his hand at the small of your back sliding up to hold you closer to him, your own hand gripping his shoulder, steadying yourself as you feel like melting into his touch.  

He’s still swaying the two of you gently, your lips moving slowly together, tasting the chocolate on each other's tongues. Heat is creeping through your body, wrapping around you, as you feel him tighten his hold on you, his breath skating over your lips as he exhales, a quiet groan leaving his throat. 

“You taste so sweet, even sweeter than the dessert,” he mumbles, his mouth close to yours, “I never want to stop kissing you.” 

You stand on your tiptoes to reach more of him, your hand around his neck, and part your lips for him, letting his tongue lick into your mouth with more fervor. He also tastes sweet and the way he pulls you closer as you steady yourself against his chest makes you moan under his increasingly heated kisses. He’s not swaying you anymore, instead he lets you melt into his body, his arm holding you up, as he bends his head, another groan slipping from him as he feels your tongue slip around his own. 

Marcus’s kisses make you forget the time, where you are, and not until he pulls away with a sigh, do you open your eyes and look up at him. His eyes are dark, filled with lust, and it’s mirrored in the way his body feels against yours, his arousal a clear presence between you. And you can feel your own fill your core with heat, a slow shiver as you touch upon the thought of having him even closer. 

Marcus keeps his eyes locked on you, his warm hand gently stroking your cheek as he seems to take a deep breath, composing himself. Your fingers are still toying with the impossibly soft curls at the back of his neck, letting them slip through your fingers, and you feel like you might drown in his dark brown eyes if he doesn’t release you soon. 

“Is it too soon to ask for a second date tomorrow?” he whispers, his eyes dropping down to your lips again, and then back to your eyes as you shake your head. 

“No, tomorrow sounds like a very good idea,” you mumble, slightly hazy from the way his hands never stop touching you, warming your body and sending shivers to your core. 

“Ok,” he mumbles back, “can I kiss you again?” 

“If you do, we might not get out of here tonight, Marcus,” you smile at him and he chuckles, nodding and pulling back a little. 

“You’re very right, maybe it’s best to save more kisses for tomorrow.” 

“I look forward to them though,” you say, letting your fingers slip from his hair and down over his shoulder, caressing his arm, his wrist, and finally his hand. He takes your hand then, enveloping it in his larger one,  and brings it to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to it. 

“Tomorrow then,” he smiles. 

Part Eight

@harriedandharassed @inept-the-magnificent @sheepdogchick3  @readingiskeepingmegoing @noisynightmarepoetry @survivingandenduring @vabeachazn @amyispxnk @oberynslady @vabeachazn @amyispxnk @thewiigers

[milawritesstuff]

I’m sure we all saw those pics of Pedri & the boys are the NBA game for warriors & lakers. He looked so cute & huggable & so boyfriend material ugh anyways can you do a pedri x gf reader where she joins him for the game & their like not public but not private either but they officially are exposed on the kiss cam. If you can make her like a Latina American (just basing her off myself, if not that’s totally fine) & obvi just super cute & bf material pedri 🥰

A/N: Ugh that video of him at the match last night he’s so damn soft. I feel like I can touch that video and ughhhh I’m going crazy for this man lol.

Anyways hope you guys like this. Also, I wanted to make it part of this other one that I wrote … so it’s going to be the same Y/N from THIS story.

I hope you guys like it, I just wrote is super quick.

•••

He stared into the phone screen. Even though you were almost 6,000 miles away whenever he looked at the screen when you were on video call you couldn’t help but blush. His brown eyes shined as he looked into the screen with a sense of hope. He stayed quiet for a few seconds.

-I have to tell you something but don’t get mad.-

You felt your heart fall to the pit of your stomach when he said those words. The last few months hadn’t been easy. After spending a few months together and you deciding to return to the states you had only seen each other less than a handful of times. These daily video calls were the only thing that kept you going. You tried not to pay attention to all of the rumors surrounding him because you knew you were the one he woke up at the crack of dawn to talk to or would stay up late for due to the time difference. But you still knew a long distance relationship was difficult.

-What?- You answer.

-Xavi is giving us a few days off after the Osasuna match and well …-

-Pedri you’re making me nervous, just spit it out.-

He flung his arms in the air.

-Joder, Eric, Fer, and I were thinking of going to the NBA playoffs but I don’t want you to get mad because I should actually be going to visit you instead and…- You cut him off.

-Babe, it’s okay. I know it’s something you’ve always wanted to do so please go. Besides in a few months I’ll be in Barcelona.-

-Are you sure?- He asks. -It’s going to be a quick trip, maybe two days so we can get back on time.-

You shake your head and giggle. -Vamos amor, it’s okay. I’m not mad. I promise.-

The two of you stayed on the phone for a few more minutes before it was time to say goodbye. As soon as you ended the call with Pedri you messaged his brother.

Y/N: Fer, please ask Eric if he can get a ticket to the game for me without Pedri knowing, I want to surprise him.

Fer: On it

Y/N: And ask if you can stay in his room 😉

Fer: 🫡🫡

You knew Pedri would be flying out Wednesday night after the team’s practice and would be arriving late Wednesday in San Francisco. You booked a flight out of Los Angeles early Thursday morning.

You knocked twice on the hotel room door.

-Did you order room service?- You heard Pedri ask his brother in the room.

Fernando laughed. -No, but open it, it’s a surprise.-

Your heart began to beat faster as you heard Pedri’s steps get closer to the door. You felt like throwing up when you saw the handle turn. His face lit up as soon as he saw you and dashed over to take you in his arms. He lifted you in a hug.

-I know you would have preferred Steph Curry but … surprise!- You said as he placed a soft kiss on your lips. He let out a laugh. -Tonta, you’re better than Steph Curry any day.-

You spent the day with Pedri, going out to eat with Eric and Ferran and doing a bit of sightseeing. You had been to San Francisco a million times but seeing it through Pedri’s eyes was magical. It reminded you of how your parents would act when you went to new places. Being immigrants from Latin America, to them being able to take you on trips to see new places was living the American dream. And you couldn’t believe in just a few months you were giving up the American dream for this beautiful Spanish boy.

The night was going to end with the main reason the boys had traveled for, the NBA playoffs. Pedri smiled at you as your group walked to the entrance of the Chase Center. You thought about how nice the day had been because nobody had recognized him. You were able to walk around the city and even on the Golden Gate Bridge holding hands without anyone taking pictures or asking him for anything. A few pictures of the two of you had came out when you were in Barcelona but for almost a year now you had managed to keep your relationship quiet. You preferred it that way, knowing and mentally preparing yourself for what would ensue once the fans found out you had moved in with him in a few months.

As you walked into the Chase Center you let go of Pedri’s hand. Something telling you that there would be cameras and more people who could recognize him and you wanted him to avoid more rumors. Pedri looked back at you and furrowed his brows. You smiled back at him hoping he wouldn’t ask why you had let go of his hand. Luckily Eric dragged him and took the attention away from you. You and Fer stayed behind as Fer took video of everything going on.

Eventually you found your seats. Eric went first followed by Pedri and you decided to let Fernando go after him so that you would be at the end. Once Pedri sat down and he realized his brother was next to him instead of you he turned to look over at you. -Babe!- He called for your attention.

-Que pasa, Pedri?-

He reached his hand out over Fer and grabbed yours. -You belong next to me. Why are you sitting all the way over there?-

You shrugged your shoulders. -There’s cameras everywhere and you know …-

Pedri shook his head. -Come here. Fer move over.-

You did as he asked and sat down next to him. Your hand in his. He leaned over to look at you. -Is that why you let go of my hand when we walked in?-

-Yeah.-

-Amor, they’re going to find out sooner or later and honestly I don’t care anymore. You sit next to me so everyone can see I have the most beautiful girl here.-

You smiled and gave him a quick kiss. He turned around to talk to Eric while his hand continued to hold yours. You stared stupidly at him wondering how in the world you had gotten so lucky to find him and for him to love you the way he did.

A few people came over to take pictures of Pedri and Eric and even one person did a short interview. You managed to stay out of the limelight until the kiss cam came on. You and Pedri stared at the Jumbotron as people laughed.

-Sometimes they chose siblings and it’s super awkward.- You whisper into Pedri’s ear who continues to laugh as he claps and looks at the screen.

-See, they would have done that with Fer and I if you hadn’t moved your seats.- He says causing you to laugh. As the two of you are laughing and staring at each other you feel Fer nudge you.

-Vamos, vamos pareja look!-

You look up and see the screen focused on you and Pedri. Your cheeks glowing red from embarrassment. Pedri turns over to look at you and winks. -I said they would find out sooner or later, I guess it’s going to be sooner.- You smile as he leans in and places a kiss on your lips. His soft hand cupping your chin as his soft wet lips take yours in.

The kiss ends and Pedri pulls away as the two of you give the camera a thumbs up.

TAG LIST:

@cinderellawithashoe @httpswiftie @simpingmyassoff @bubblebeep69 @fictional-l0v3r @httpspedri26 @0alanasworld0 @l0verl4ne @gaviypedrisbride @footballerficsposts @fashphotolife @beaschampagneproblems @jvsgnjrtpdar5stkd-tv-m @ikkehehe @jjishotasf @quemirasboboandapaya @maricciardo @gaviswh0re @pedriwifefrfr @dustell @elijahslover @formula1mount

[svntxnc]

A Chance Taken, A Heart Broken

W/C : 1.3k words (I’m proud of this idc!)

Warnings : swearing, mentions of using and cheating

Pairing: Actor!mark x Actor!reader

Summary: giving your bestfriend mark a chance.. BUT THERES MOREEE

[ MONDAY, JUNE 12TH 9:37 PM ]

“take a chance with me. sounds risky, I know but please even consider it.” the words came out of his mouth. seeming hopeful but yet, unsure? you stare at him in shock, just standing there. in some random field that he ’spontaneously’ took you to, the winds were blowing through your hair as he stands there, waiting for a response.

“I like risks.” the words came out of your mouth almost like it was nothing, keyword : ’almost’. that was a lie. you were terrified of giving him a chance. you weren’t sure if you could give him a chance considering that you know how he acted his past relationships. well, you were his best friend for almost what? 7 years? and unluckily enough, you’ve sadly fallen for him for those exact 7 years. sounds stupid to hope and wait for someone for that long but hey, cant blame someone for being In love. even if its ridiculous.

[ TUESDAY, JUNE 20, 8:45 PM ]

It’s been a few days since you’ve given mark a chance. “lets go out tomorrow?” he said while hugging you tightly “alright.” you said confidently. that’s how you got here in the first place, in a Restaurant. waiting for him patiently while knowing deep down. that he wasn’t coming at all.

[ 9:21 PM ]

You got tired of waiting, ’weird considering that you waited 7 years for him and cant spare a few hours to wait for him to arrive’, the voice in your head states. they weren’t wrong. maybe I was just idiotic to give him a chance in the first place? will he change? is he just playing with me? questions of uncertainty filled your head as you left the Restaurant. walking out the doors, you spot a familiar face, it was mark.

“hey.” he says as he slowly approaches you “I know I’m late but. can I make it up to you?” he says as you look at him strangely “for two hours, yeah you were.” you replied as he looks at the ground “I know, and I’m sorry” he replied “what.. took you so long?” you ask, feeling nervous about what his response would be, you had a prediction but you shouldn’t assume things, it’d be rude if you did, right? “uh.. stuff” he replies with guilt and nervousness splattered all over his face. as you nod, feeling assured for a moment, until you notice something on his neck, it was a fucking hickey, you pretend not to notice as you both went on with your ’date’

[ WEDNESDAY, JUNE 28TH, 11:34 AM ]

He was on his phone, laughing while texting someone. ’its just his friends’ you assured yourself, knowing damn well that he couldn’t. you sit next to him, sounds of his phones keyboard, him laughing and the rain outside. you sit there and think ’how did it even last this long?’ as he shortly looks at you and scoffs “I have to go somewhere” he says as he stands up, sounding unsure, you nod quietly as he leaves the room, “happy birthday to me, I guess” you say bitterly as you got your phone out to message your friend about going out today, spoiler alert: they cant.

so as any logical, idiotic person would do, you went out by yourself. I mean, what else could you do? as you were walking around the mall, you spotted a coffee shop that you loved. and with our luck! guess which two bitches are in there together? you looked at them, spending time together, laughing together, genuinely having fun. and if you aren’t caught up yet, it was mark and your best friend. “happy birthday to me” you whisper bitterly as you move and leave the front of the coffee shop and pretend nothing happened, you wouldn’t wanna ruin anything right? you were dating someone that you’ve liked for aged now and she was the bestest friend you could ever ask for. who would wanna ruin that? I mean its just something that may leave a scar on your life but, hey, scars heal. overtime right?

[ THURSDAY, JULY 6TH, 2:24 PM ]

you and mark decided to go back to where you both first met, sounds cheesy, I’m aware. but there’s nothing wrong with looking back at the past every now and then right?.. right?

“tada!” he says as he removes the blindfold on your eyes, feeling very proud of what he thought of for a date, “this place hasn’t changed a bit” you mumble as you look around “right? it’s great! everything’s still as it was” he says enthusiastically as you nod, you enjoyed walking around, playing around and visiting old friends but.. looking back made you think that, was it really for the best that you both got together? yes you’ve liked him for.. a long amount of time but, was risking your friendship really worth it? you knew that things wouldn’t be the same but, it was a pretty drastic change, a million thoughts went over your mind as he taps your shoulder “you okay?” he asks as he kisses your cheek and gives you an ice cream as you nod, that’s when you decided, you would never step a foot in this place again.

[ FRIDAY, JULY 14TH, 10:45 PM ]

It’s been a whole month and one 2 days 1 hour and 8 minutes but, whose counting? you walk into his apartment silently, not making any noise cause you wanted to suprise him! you walk in as he’s gaming with friends, not noticing your arrival. “her? what about her?” he says as your curiosity grows “oh uh, I’m kinda just using her to get her bestfriend? its been working, she’s clueless.” he says as he scoffs, your heart shatters in pieces. as you pretend not to hear and re enter the room and call him, his blood turns cold as he looks at you panicked, “hey! just a question? did you hear what I said?” he asks nervously “no, what was it?” you say, pretending not to know cause again, why would you wanna ruin this? “ah, it was nothing. wanna come play?” he says as he changes the subject and gives you a controller, you grab the controller and begin to play and look at him shortly, “mark lee, you’re losing me” you mumble under your breath and luckily enough he didn’t hear you.

[ SATURDAY, JULY 22ND, 2:22 AM ]

“lets just call it quits then, I was only using you anyways.” he snaps as you look at him “didn’t expect it from me huh?” mark says as he scoffs. “I knew mark I’ve known” you snap back, “why didn’t you..” he says confused, “cause I had everything that I wanted, I had you, I had my best friend, I had everything that I wanted.” “I’ve wanted you for the past 7 years.” you say. and what other than rain could’ve suited the situation more? he looks at you in shock as it starts pouring “I..I’m sorry” he says as the rain slowly grows. “I’m sure you are” you say back as you walk away from him, whose slowly regretting everything he’d done to you.

“.. and that’s a wrap!” the director praises you both as the movie that you and your co-star, lee minhyung has been acting in they stop recording and you and him are thanking everyone.

as you were about to leave the set, he follows after you and yells your name “hey!” he says as you stop in your tracks and look at him as he finally catches up to you “what’s up?” you ask him as you pat his back “thanks for stopping” he says awkwardly as he catches his breath as he stands next to you, “can we talk? like remain friends even after the movie is done and hear me out-” he says as you cut him off “of course we can! I would say that we’re close friends already” you reply as you smile at him “not like that” he says as he chuckles and pulls you closer as you look at him shocked, “think we could give mark and her the ending they should’ve got?” he says as he smiles at you.

[ace-turned-confused]

wip wednesday thursday

ty @604to647 @sizzlingcloudmentality & @milla-frenchy for tagging me today, and everyone for the tags the past three weeks ❤️

remember when i said this fic was almost done… yeah. see it’s done in my mind, and rn my mind doesn’t wanna put it into words, so… that’s great.

Joel unpacks when you arrive home and leaves Whiskey to rest, heading back into town on foot to catch up on missed work. You figure Mrs. Wilson can make do without you for one more day, so you spend the afternoon stewing, pacing around the house then flopping down on the couch when your legs get tired.

Joel still doesn’t talk about much when he returns in the evening. He stares at his glass, then out the window — it’s too cloudy to stargaze tonight, so he heads off to bed with a sigh. No goodnight sweetheart, no sleep well, no join me in my bed.

Maybe that last one is a stretch, but it would still be a nice gesture. And, naturally, you wouldn’t say no.

You toss and turn that night, confused by Joel’s feelings and your future here, hoping that after a few hours of sleep you’ll wake up with a clearer mind — only you don’t.

npt bc i’m late and been MIA: @sixhours @evolnoomym @almostempty @whocaresstillthelouvre @bitchesuntitled

@clawdee @luxurychristmaspudding @mermaidgirl30 @yxtkiwiyxt @burntheedges & anyone else 💖

[adamprrishcycle]

WIP Wednesday (but it’s Thursday)

I was tagged by @clotpolesonly thank you!!

This is from a fic I’ve been working on for a long time. It’s not close to seeing the light of day and this is definitely not part of any kind of final draft but here you go. Absolutely no context, enemies to lovers girlies win !!!

Parrish was sweating, the front of his shirt visibly damp and sticking to him and Ronan only let himself have the smallest of glances in his direction. The smell in the car was pure gasoline as though Parrish had spilled it all over his hands and something about the whole situation had Ronan shifting uncomfortably in his seat, oddly intrigued and equally repulsed at himself. He was no stranger to shame.

“So, I take it that was the trailer you grew up in?” Ronan said, breaking the silence that had fallen between them, thinking that if he got Parrish talking again, it would break the strange spell that had fallen upon him.

Parrish didn’t say anything.

“Come on, man, you know enough about me.”

“It’s my job to know what I know about you,” Parrish replied finally. “You don’t need to know anything about me.”

“But that’s not how it works,” Ronan protested, “and I’m already working it out in my head. Man returns to hometown and lights family home on fire. Is that why you came back? Shitty childhood? Is that why you lied about where you’re from?”

“Just stop talking,” Parrish snapped and he rubbed at his eyes with a thumb and forefinger, his hand sliding down his face before quickly putting it back on the wheel with a slight shake of his head. Ronan was drawn to those hands, fine and long with delicate fingers that circled the steering wheel in an appealing way.

“Where’s your car?”

“I left it back there,” Ronan admitted, eyes trained on the steering wheel, ignoring the night as it streamed past.

“Well, I’m not taking you back,” Parrish told him but Ronan didn’t care, he hadn’t expected to be given a ride back to his car at the scene of the crime. He only hoped that the BMW was far enough out of the way to not raise any kind of suspicion in his direction. As he considered his fate, they arrived back in town and Parrish parked in the lot of the small hotel he was staying at.

He cut the engine.

“You’re not running, then?” Ronan asked in the darkness. The light from a street lamp slid in at a low angle, lighting up Parrish’s lap where he had placed one hand, twisted but casual, the other higher up, reaching for the key in the ignition. Ronan felt Parrish glance towards him.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” he said seriously and he held the car key in a fist.

“Now why the fuck would you be seeing me ever again?”

Ronan turned in his seat so he could look Parrish straight in the face. The guy was an arsonist and probably having some sort of psychotic episode, and the worst part was that Ronan had sought him out, had followed him this afternoon and sat outside his hotel into the dead of night. He had climbed into Parrish’s car after all of these revelations. The sick reality of it was dawning on him. Maybe Ronan was the one having the psychotic episode.

“I’ve got a job to do,” Parrish responded coolly.

“I could report you for what I’ve just seen and you wouldn’t have a fucking job-to-do anymore,” Ronan told him, mimicking his tone.

“I don’t think you will,” said Parrish, “now get out of my car.”

Ronan would have been irritated if he hadn’t been so interested, if a part of him hadn’t enjoyed the way Parrish put those particular words together, his face a harsh and unreadable mask as he spoke. His shoulders rose and fell and he reached up and hooked one finger into the neckline of his shirt, pulling the damp material away from his chest. The car was stifling.

He climbed out and Ronan mirrored him on the other side and they slammed their doors in near synchronicity. One firm bang in the night air and then the sound of cicadas resumed.

“How’s your back?” Ronan asked over the roof.

Parrish eyed him and shook his head, still unreadable, before turning and walking away towards his room. As he walked, he lifted his arms and pulled his shirt off over his head, balling it in one hand and Ronan watched the movement of his shoulder blades above his slim waist and the dark, ragged lines that ran almost the full length of him until he disappeared into shadow beneath the overhanging balcony.

Ronan relaxed finally, his jaw tight from grinding his teeth together for the whole car ride. He rolled his shoulders, releasing the tension, sniffed, spat out the nervous taste in his mouth, then ran his fingers over the hood of Parrish’s car as he turned to leave.

[theretirementstory]

08/12/2024. Greetings from Bar-sur-Aube. It has been a restful weekend without my grandchildren but I had the most amazing time with them last week and would not have missed it for the world.

Yesterday morning I had a leak again in the dining room ceiling, I have said all along that it only happens when the wind was in a certain direction and it proved this as the wind changed direction only slightly but the water stopped coming in.

Tuesday saw me on my way to Hospital Tenon (pictured above) in Paris. The photo shows the gorgeous garden and architecture of the hospital. The drive made me think of the children on their way here and back on Monday. I was uncomfortable and nodded off a few times I hope they slept too as it was tiring. I didn’t get home until 20:30 and I was bushed.

Then I was up early on Wednesday waiting for the nurse to arrive to give me jabs, take blood, clean and dress my PICC line. In the afternoon the cleaner came and I popped back to bed to read and have a snooze.

Thursday was transfusion afternoon and I did a few jobs on the morning. My favourite doctor wasn’t there so I couldn’t ask him questions. Anyway I did get some sense out of the doctor that popped in to see me.

Then the weekend was heading my way faster than I had expected . Anie came to see me and I asked if she would make me a pain d’épice for Christmas. She arrived on Saturday afternoon bringing the cake with her.

As much as I could do without it, I am having two visitors. One is the long awaited chiropodist she will come around 11 (guess she will arrive around lunchtime), the second is Monique who is coming around 2:30 (that could be any time up to 3:30) however it is good to have them come today as I have a pretty busy agenda for next week.

It is the Xmas party for the refugees on 11 December, not that I will be attending, I haven’t been for a few years now. I still think of all my refugee friends.

So after a busy weekend last weekend for “The Solicitor” and “The Recovery Coordinator” this weekend was to be fairly relaxing. It was the work Xmas party last night for “The Recovery Coordinator” and “The Solicitor” was the chauffeur. Hopefully, it is just one person who has “mal à la tête” this morning.

“The Photographer” and the “The Jetsetter” viewed a rental property yesterday and liked it a lot. It is in an area that is close to “The Photographers” work, also close to my old school, where I learned a smattering of French which was the first part of my French vocabulary. The house looked lovely and they have applied for it, although there are a lot of people viewing so it may be a while until they hear anything. “The Photographer” seemed to have got over his busy weekend last weekend and embarked on another this weekend. Apart from viewing the rental property, he had been to his current work Xmas party on Friday night, Saturday night it was up to Scarborough for a party with ex work colleagues. So another busy weekend.

The music section this week maybe a bit “odd” for me but I do like them. The first is from 1996, it is Gabrielle with “Give Me A Little More Time”. Of course it would’nt be my music section if it didn’t contain a bit of an older song, this is from 1982, it’s Simple Minds with “Promised you a Miracle”.

Well another week has flown by, not quite as quickly as Santa on his sleigh, but still very quick.

This photo is of a beautiful band stand in a park facing onto Hôpital Tenon.

Catch you all next week!

[very-bad-poetry-captain]

WIP Wednesday! (though it's Thursday... anyway)

Tagged by @appleofmyonlyeye and @ncc1701ohno thank you both💕

I'm not counting my ongoing wip Headspace in this and also I can't reveal the plot for the McSpirk Big Bang fic I'll write, but these are the star trek fics I've started typing!!

Untitled - "love is blind TV show" AU mcspirk

McCoy arrives at a nice resort on an alien planet for some much needed rest after his messy divorce, and accidentally ends up double booked with the filming of the interplanetary version of dating show "Love is blind". The contestants are all split in two by a mysterious alien and Jim, who produces the show, is more than happy to convince McCoy to join the show. There, he meets Spock while talking in the pods... spones with endgame mcspirk!

Clearing his throat, Jim shifts a bit in his seat. They’re in matching seats, something like a mix of a beanbag and an armchair. Threatening to swallow you whole. “Well, the participants aren’t split up in any traditional way, like gender or sexual orientation or anything like that. Instead we’ve got a couple of Minirians dividing everyone.” He waits for the rest of the explanation, but Jim looks finished. “And these Minirians… How are they dividing people?” Surprise colors Jim’s expression. It makes him look younger. “Interested?” He grins, leaning forwards, elbows resting on his knees. “They refuse to explain it. One half is kanschtaar and the other half is tsiirm. I’ve been trying to figure it out but I gave up, so… It’s a blind date show, you know? Like you get to talk to the other half of participants but not see them or describe appearances. So I’m assuming the Minirians can tell somehow that each half won’t be attracted to their own group.” Maybe it’s the stress of a long space flight, or the weirdness of the whole situation, but McCoy is intrigued. A dating show across species? Then he remembers. His divorce was only months ago. He’s possibly hurtling down the path of alcoholism, is already a workaholic, can’t stop twisting and turning his dad’s death in his mind and… He feels, honestly, like a failure of a person. “I don’t think I’m date material,” he mutters, sinking lower into the baggy chair. “Whatever they base it on, it can’t be that at least.” Jim rolls his eyes. “It’s a TV show,” he says. “I mean, not to dismiss anyone’s hopes of finding true love, but… You’re good-looking enough for TV if you’re worried about that.”

2. Untitled - aos x tos crossover mckirk

This is inspired by gunstreet's tos Kirk x aos McCoy (endgame tos spirk) fic called Looking for an interruption which I am only slightly obsessed with and I needed to write an aos Jim x tos McCoy version... with endgame aos mckirk

Jim returns to the mess hall to find Leonard still on his own, though he’s smiling and humming to himself. There are several people watching him warily, and Jim can’t blame them. It’s not that Bones is never happy – it’s just rare to see him looking so pleased. “How’s your coffee?” Jim asks as he sits down opposite him. “Not too bad,” he smiles, taking a small sip. “Good to know my taste buds are the same in this universe, at least.” Blinking in confusion, it takes Jim a moment to realize he’d just punched in Bones’ usual order without even asking. Leonard’s smile takes on a teasing note, and Jim’s cheeks redden at the sight. “Well,” he mumbles, coughing a little. “I should have asked.” “Old habits die hard, as they say,” Leonard waves him off with. He eyes Jim like he wants to say more, but ultimately decides against it. The teasing smile remains, though, visible around the edges of the mug. Jim’s heart beats a little too hard in his chest, and he can’t figure out why. Is he nervous? It’s just Bones. Sure, a slightly older, smiley version of him, but still. He usually has to keep careful count of Bones’ smiles, a rare treasure to be memorized. He’s irrationally jealous of his counterpart for having such easy access to them.

3. mcspirk month

So far I have four oneshots started for mcspirk month but they're all untitled so... here are two (slightly nsfw) snippets (the other two are a bit too short yet to add)

Spock and McCoy get trapped together in a shuttle for several days (they are both dating Jim)

A small voice in the back of his head reminds him that he more than tolerates Spock, but that’s on a good day. He’s having a bad day, currently, and so is Spock. Though he’d never admit it, of course. It’s probably logical to stay calm and wait for rescue, and keep your mood bright while you’re at it. If it weren’t for the clipped tone and occasional dark look, and the way he talks back rather than tell McCoy to relax, he’d believe Spock was unaffected. “We should have made Jim go down with us,” he sighs, rubbing at his cheek with a palm. “He’d make the time pass faster, if nothing else.” “It would have been against protocol to send three of the ship’s most senior officers to a planet prone to unpredictable weather, when only two were needed.” “I’m bored, Spock. To hell with protocol!” Spock turns, then, to face him properly. The shuttle doesn’t have beds installed, only emergency sleeping bags, and so they spend most of their time in the pilot and co-pilot’s seats for comfort. The view outside the windscreen is blocked by heavy rain pelting against it, the sound of it an ominous backdrop to the muted lighting from the emergency light strips just barely allowing them to see each other. In profile, Spock had appeared stoic. Now, his face bathed in shadows, he looks more thoughtful, considering. “May I assume, then, that had Jim been present, you would have spent some time engaged in sexual intercourse?” “You bet your pointed ears we would have,” McCoy grumbles back.

Jim, Spock and McCoy have to dress up according to alien culture for diplomacy reasons...

Spock, of course, takes great care with him, easily slipping the gloves on. When he lifts his gaze to Kirk, there’s something heated in them. Oh. Maybe it’s highly intimate for a half-Vulcan, too. He licks his lips, considering him. “You know, I think Bones could use some help with his, too.” “What? I know how to put on a pair of gloves, Jim.” “I believe Jim knows that, Doctor. I also believe that he wishes to see us both engage in an intimate act under Voresebian culture.” Kirk can’t help but chuckle a bit at being caught out. “Alright, you’ve seen through me. I think we can spare a moment for some fun, can’t we?”

[fuck-customers]

Yesterday (2/7) I submitted something about my paycheck being late. Well, update: It is now 2/8 and I have not been paid. Usually what happens is I get my pay stub emailed to me on Monday (I get paid every other week), and my paycheck is directly deposited into my bank account by Tuesday morning.

This week, however, my pay stub did not arrive on Monday, and I kind of had a bad feeling about things already but I figured maybe my paycheck would still hit on time. Nope! Tuesday dawned and no paycheck. Which was frustrating because I had plans to go grocery shopping and get a haircut, and I couldn't do those things without my paycheck, but as I mentioned in my other ask, my paycheck is sometimes delayed by a day if the banks are closed on Monday for some kind of holiday (not that there was one this week, but I was still hopeful).

Today, Wednesday, was my anniversary with my partner, and we had plans to go shopping together, but when I woke up and checked my bank account, no paycheck. I did, however, finally have my pay stub in my email. I messaged my managers to (politely) ask what the fuck was going on, and the owner replied "There was a delay. It was my fault. It should be deposited tomorrow. I’m very sorry."

Like, it's nice that you're sorry, I guess, but a heads-up would have been appreciated! One of the other managers mentioned that she also had a delayed paycheck, so I know I'm not the only one, but no one bothered to send out any kind of text/email/message to give us a warning about the problem. 😡

This isn't the first time I've had issues getting my paycheck, which I've complained about on this blog before, and honestly if I thought I had any better job prospects I would have left ages ago. I wish I was close enough with my coworkers to start talks about unionizing, but given that I'm literally always scheduled alone (I work in a small store so one person can technically run it by themselves but imho it would be better with two) and I'm not very good at socializing to begin with, I don't see that happening anytime soon. Fuck managers, get your shit together or at least give us some warning when you fuck up.

My company did that to us a few times in the mid 90′s. And that was when they still had stores in 14 states and just bought another chain and gained 3 more states. And not one word was said. All of us just kept harassing the manager to get paid. The longest was a week and we got two checks at once. Then they pulled the BS of changing payday from Tuesday to Thursday without a word. Then Tues again then Thurs. Then Tues again and it’s been that for about 25 years solid now. But I really don’t put it past them to pull this BS again. This is the company that remodeled about 1/3 of the stores then declared bankruptcy so they didn’t have to pay for it and closed the stores that didn’t get the remodel.  

-Rodney

[loverontheleft]

Symphony (Revised)

Original Request: Could you maybe make a one shot and have Brendon be on tour and the reader visits and they sneak off somewhere on the bus to fuck and have to try and be quiet? Then maybe someone from the band catches them?

Brendon x Reader

Warnings: fingering, sex without a condom (that's not advice; be safe and make good choices), voyeurism.

Word count: 3.1k ➡️ 4.5k

-||-

“Maybe if you shift to your left a little? No, come back a bit. Okay, now,” Brendon instructs you, “lift your left leg up and—okay, yes, higher—”

“Brendon, I will fall over if I have to stand like this for more than thirty seconds. And I know we joke that you’re ‘one and done,’ but your one isn’t that quick.”

He kisses you deeply to smother the sound of you both laughing; you’ve been whispering this whole time to avoid getting caught in a what-you-hoped-would-be compromising situation in the bathroom of his band’s tour bus. Instead, you’ve spent the past five minutes each trying to figure out how to position yourself for maximum pleasure but minimal sound.

It hasn’t been going well sexually, but the two of you have been having a blast just trying to have sex. “I need to re-evaluate some of my choices,” you mumble against his lips. He shushes you playfully and you giggle, clutching him and recalling what got you here in the first place.

-||-

Brendon answered your FaceTime request on the first ring. “Hey, darlin!” Your whole heart melted and you smiled wide at the absolute joy on his face. “Damn, you look good.” He eyed you on screen appreciatively, and you laughed, shaking your head.

“Shut up, I do not. I look exhausted.” He made a thinking noise, really hamming it up, before grinning.

“Well that’s why I think you look good. I only see you exhausted after sex. Positive association and whatnot.”

Well, you think to yourself. You couldn’t ask for a better opportunity. “Speaking of sex,” and you let your voice drop suggestively. “I have next Thursday and Friday off. Thought maybe I could come see you? Have a long weekend with my man?”

Brendon’s face lit up. “Hell yes!” You both smiled at his enthusiasm, and then it hit him. He groaned, closing his eyes. “Those aren’t hotel nights.” Your face fell a little, but you smiled again.

“That’s okay, B. I just wanna see you in person and not on my screen. Miss your face.” You pressed your lips towards the camera and he did the same. You both laughed at the cheesiness of your FaceTime kiss and fell into conversation about the logistics of your arrival and both of your days so far until he had to go for sound check.

When your work day ended Wednesday, you headed right to the airport. You showed up at the airport three hours early, but you didn’t care—you were so excited. You’d been texting back and forth all day, and you were glad you decided to take some photos for him early this morning. You took a photo after putting on each piece of clothing, so all you had to do was send them in the reverse order to give him a long distance strip tease.

You’d been sending them throughout the day without any warning, and so far he’d gotten you digitally undressed to your bra and underwear: a matching, lacy turquoise set.

You knew it wasn’t fair; the poor boy wasn’t exactly sitting around just waiting for photos. He had responsibilities, interviews with radio stations, meetings with the GSAs at the high schools in the area, and news stations would be coming by all day to get footage for their evening news shows.

You shouldn’t have teased him. And yet, you sent the photo featuring the straps of your bra dangling off your shoulders, the cleavage a little deeper. His reply came through a minute later, this time as an audio message. You slipped your headphones from your purse to listen. His message started with a soft groan, and your toes curled a little. God, you loved that sound in your ear, and the way his smooth voice consumed your entire mind. “Jesus, honey, you’re just asking for it, aren’t you? Can’t wait to get my hands on those perfect tits once I’ve got my cock in you.”

You didn’t even hesitate in your response; you fired back with the photos of the bra on the floor and the full body shot, sans bra.

Brendon’s next audio message was one choked word: ‘Fuck.’

When you’d finally boarded, you sent him the last four photos in the series: the first with your thumb hooked into the waistband of your panties, the second showing them around your thighs, the third with them pooled by your ankles, and the fourth was another full body shot, this time nude.

Once all four were sent, you turned your phone off. You knew his reply would be filthy and might even contain pictures of his own. You couldn’t handle that on a plane; you weren’t even sure you could handle it once you were safely in your rental car. He didn’t send photos often, but the ones you’d received in your time together were explicit, and they never failed to push you over the edge when you were touching yourself. If he was ever going to send them, it would be now, in response to your teasing.

You also rarely sent suggestive photos; he was always so protective of you and your relationship. It would only take one mistake for a photo to go public, and he didn’t want to subject you to that. And, he’d point out, he had plenty of mental images of you to use in case he needed any ‘visual assistance.’  As wonderful as the few photos you’d sent previously were, he valued your privacy and safety more.

Even so, Brendon seemed happy to be receiving the photos now; all of his replies pointed to him deeply appreciating and enjoying the photos. He hadn’t sent any photos yet, but you had a voicemail waiting for you when you landed, and you felt safe enough listening to it as you walked to the rental car.

You shouldn’t have listened to it. The sound of his hand moving urgently over his lubed cock was audible in the background, and he was telling you all of the dirty things he wanted to do to you once you were in his arms.

Your breath caught in your throat when he started describing how he was going to get you undressed, onto your hands and knees in his bed, and then hold your hips firmly as he filled you over and over again; you braced yourself against the rental car’s door with one hand and reminded yourself to breathe normally. He was describing the various ways he was going to get you to come for him, and you closed your eyes, willing yourself to maintain a sense of composure until you could be alone with him.

The drive was a long one. You were anxious. You definitely weren’t nervous—you’d been together long enough to not be nervous—but anxious, yes. You’d been practically quivering with anticipation; you’d been avoiding Instagram and Twitter and anywhere people might be posting images of him. You wanted to be overwhelmed when you finally saw him. You were already overwhelmed just hearing him get off to your photos, so getting to see him would just add fuel to the fire.

You followed the GPS as you sang along to an older album of his, eyes scanning the road for the giant water tower he’d texted you to use as a landmark. He had a show tonight, so you’d probably make it to the bus a bit before he and the band finished on stage, depending on traffic and timing.

Finally, finally, finally. The water tower loomed off to the right, and you made the turn. After getting through the security gate with the emailed pass from management, you parked next to the bus and flung open your car door. You didn’t even pause to take stock of your appearance; you just wanted to get on the bus and wait for him.

You didn’t have to wait long; moments after the bus doors closed behind you, the echoing roar of the crowd swelled through the night. You guessed he’d be on the bus within ten minutes.

When the bus doors opened and he climbed the stairs, you flung yourself at him. He held you tightly, burying his face in your hair. You both lingered for a moment, just clinging to each other, breathing it in, your chest pressed to his and your heartbeats palpable. “Finally.” His voice was quiet, and he hugged you tightly.

“Finally,” you agreed, your voice breaking a little with emotion. You both knew how much you missed each other, but the reality of holding each other brought the weeks of longing into sharp focus.

You pulled away after a long moment, and stared at him in the leather pants that drove you wild and a button-down shirt you were just itching to tear off of him. “Fuck, you look good.”

He laughed and grabbed your ass, pulling you into him for another kiss. “Don’t use such filthy language,” he teased against your mouth. “It’ll just earn you a spanking.”

You looked at him and raised one eyebrow, pressing your hips forward. “Promise?”

“Fucking love you,” Brendon declared. He deepened the kiss, and you whimpered, starting on the buttons of his shirt.

At that point, the rest of the band piled onto the bus, greeting you enthusiastically and sprawling on the couches. They were talking eagerly about the venue, the crowd’s reaction to certain songs, and the various twists and turns the conversation took as it always did with a collection of creative, high-energy people.

Brendon had pulled you down onto a couch, and you were snuggled against him. His fingers were running up and down your arm lightly, and he nudged you affectionately. “You okay?” He brushed a hand over your hair and you nodded happily. “You’re just being quiet.”

You shrugged, pressing back against him more. “I just like being here. Listening to all of you, the things you think about, the things you say.”

Nicole laughed. “We don’t all need to hear the things Brendon thinks about, because they’re almost always about you and a distinct lack of clothes,” and you groaned, blushing faintly when Mike and Zack joined in on the lighthearted teasing.

Dan and Jake came back from the mini-kitchen in the front, each holding a sandwich. “What’d we miss?” Dan looked around curiously and Nicole giggled, ducking when you tossed a pillow at her playfully.

“Y/n said she liked hearing what we think about and I just made the simple comment that—”

“We don’t all need to hear the porn that makes up Brendon’s thinking?” Dan interrupted her, and she nodded. Dan turned toward the two of you. “Brendon, I notice you’ve been quiet during all of this.”

You could hear the smirk in your boyfriend’s voice. “That would be because I’m busy thinking.” His fingers were moving slower now, and there was something sexier, more sensual about his touch—or maybe you were just thinking dirty thoughts too.

The others groaned at his words and Nicole threw the pillow back. He shifted to roll over you and stood. “I’m gonna go take a shower before I head to bed.” He ignored the comments about cold showers and bent over to kiss you softly. “Come to bed when you’re ready, baby,” he murmured just loud enough for them to hear, and they all groaned as he walked away.

You heard the shower start and shortly after, your phone lit up. He’d texted you, “come back here.” As naturally as you could, you stood and stretched.

“I think I’m gonna head to bed now. Long flight; I’m exhausted,” you told them and headed back to the bunks. You paused by his bunk, where your bag rested, and you loudly scrambled up into it before slipping back out as quietly as you could. Whether or not they fell for it, you weren’t sure, but you’d made an effort at least.

You snuck into the bathroom, and Brendon pulled you in for a heated embrace.

“First, I want to apologize for trading the master bedroom in the back for a recording studio; that was fucking stupid of me. I should have you sprawled on a king-size bed, naked with your ankles on my shoulders and my cock deep in you right now; instead, we’re in this tiny—”

You pressed your lips to his to silence him, and when you pulled back, you were both smiling. “It’s okay, B. We’ll just have to be creative.” You both looked around the tiny bathroom; it was hardly more than the square shower stall, a toilet, and a sink with a medicine cabinet mirror. “Really creative.”

-||-

You look hesitantly at the sink. “Think it can hold me?” He nods without hesitation and you laugh a little. “Thanks, Bren. Let me be more specific. Think it can hold me when I’m getting fucked by you?” You both consider the force and combined weight and thrusting velocity. “I wasn’t good at physics,” you admit, and he laughs quietly.

“Is that physics? Can this sink hold our combined weight while fucking?” You shrug, giggling too. “I mean, it probably can,” Brendon muses. “It is a rockstar’s tour bus after all.”

You laugh and cover your mouth as you settle onto the edge of the sink. “I know you didn’t just call yourself a rockstar.”

He looks playfully offended. “Uh, rude. I’ll remind you that I’ve sold out Madison Square Garden. Women throw their bras at me. I wear leather pants. I’m a rockstar.” You’re both laughing now, but trying to muffle yourselves.

You grin, curl your fingers into the waistband of his pants, and jerk him closer, so he’s between your legs. “You can be a rockstar on stage. Right now though, you’re here, and you’re my boyfriend. Kiss me, Urie.”

“I’m always your boyfriend,” Brendon corrects you. “No matter where I am.”

“Damn right,” you tell him with a laugh. Your mouths meet, and you both have to stifle your groans of satisfaction. His fingers grip your thighs as he presses closer, and you can feel him hard against you even through the leather. His hands inch up until he’s got your leggings in his grasp, and you arch your hips so he can pull them down.

With your leggings and underwear now around your ankles, he tugs your shirt off over your head. He’s unclasping your bra as you work on unbuttoning his shirt. You’ve just finished the last one and are about to push it off his shoulders when he grabs your wrists.

“I’m already naked; you better not be changing your mind about this,” you threaten, and he quickly shakes his head.

“No, I’m definitely not. I promise. Our time is limited though; others are going to want a shower. We should limit the clothing we take off.”

You consider this, tilting your head to the side. “Fair enough. Pants down, cock out.”

“You’re lucky you’re so cute,” Brendon teases, grinning. “I normally expect a bit more romance.” His hands cover the swell of your breasts roughly before moving down so he can rub his fingers against you with one hand while the other works at his pants.

“In,” you insist and you both laugh at your needy tone. He obliges, curling two fingers, and you kiss him to smother your moan. “Harder.” He gives you a dubious look and you feel like you can read his mind. “I won’t be loud, I promise.” He raises an eyebrow and you take one of his hands and press it over your mouth, not restricting your breathing but blocking the sound. “See?” Your voice is muffled against his palm and he shakes his head, eyes sparkling in amusement.

“You’re bad,” he tells you with a grin, but he gives you what you want, fingers going deeper, harder, and slower. You squeeze around his fingers, and he groans, louder than intended. You bring your own hand up to his mouth, and he captures two of your two fingers, sucking hard.

You let your head fall back against the mirror and you tentatively roll your hips into his palm, relishing how his index and middle fingers curl inside you while his thumb plays with your clit. You’re clenching around him, and you’re both moaning, both grateful for the other’s hand.

The shower has been going this whole time, and the small room is steamy, giving everything a dream-like quality; that’s certainly how you’d describe his fingers stroking you. His tongue teases your fingers and you’re pretty sure your eyes just rolled back in your head. In your quick examination of the space, you both ruled out oral, and you’re definitely feeling the loss. His tongue, lips, mouth—the man knows how to work your body, especially when his head is between your legs.

Just the thought of him lapping at your clit pushes you over the edge, and you bite lightly at his palm.

Brendon pulls his fingers out of you, and you remove yours from his mouth so he can replace them with his and taste you. He’s moaning around his fingers and licking with meticulous care, staring at you hungrily. “Tastes so good, baby. Can I make you feel even better?” He brings your fingers back to his mouth and the wet heat of his mouth over your two fingers has your stomach twisting as you nod eagerly.

His hand moves from your mouth and he shoves his pants further down his thighs. Your eyes find his thigh and you whimper, proud of yourself for managing to do so quietly. At home, when you’ve got time and space and privacy, you’ll spend up to an hour grinding on his thigh, sometimes with him clad in his leather pants, other times naked, just really teasing both of you and getting closer and closer to climax until he tells you to come all over him. Even under oath, you don’t think you could give an accurate number as to how many times you’ve brought yourself to a shaking, swear-laden orgasm on his thigh while stroking his cock.

You refocus when you feel the head of his cock pressing against you, and you nod, guiding his hand back over your mouth. “Please,” you say, and you kiss his palm, your way of begging at this point. He thrusts against you, and you both let out soft, broken sighs of pleasure when he goes deep, rocking slowly. His fingers dig into your thigh again, and you can feel the bruises forming; you fucking love it. Your eyes find his; you feel every inch of him, and even as unconventional as this moment is, you want to remember everything about how good he feels inside you right now. Your eyes stay locked on each other; you’re both laser-focused, just feeling.

With you slightly elevated on the sink, his dick is entering from a lower point and a different angle; he’s hitting your G-spot perfectly with each thrust, and you can’t catch your breath from how good it feels. He knows what he’s doing too; his mouth is a vice grip around your fingers and his palm is pressing against your lips a little more firmly.

That’s probably for the best; you’re not able to be as quiet as the moment requires. He presses closer, his torso almost curved over yours, his open shirt hanging on either side of you.

Besides being totally enraptured with each other, the shower spray muffles some sound too, which is probably why neither of you hear the bathroom door slip open or the camera shutter.

It’s all too much, his mouth on your fingers, his hand on your mouth and thigh, his dick rubbing perfectly, right where you need him. “Gonna come,” you tell him, still muffled by his hand, your eyes slipping shut.

Brendon leans forward to kiss you, moving his hand and releasing your fingers from his mouth. The new angle, from his leaning forward, has you shrieking as you feel the sparks go off and radiate through your entire body. His tongue is in your mouth, he’s coming too, and the sensation makes you wild; it feels like it’s been so long since you’ve had him in you like this, had his hips bucking against yours to get deeper and give you everything he’s got. You’re moaning, and you fling a hand across his back, grabbing at his shirt to keep him pressed against you. Everything is heat and fire and trembling, blinding pleasure. Between your orgasm reducing you to a thrashing mess and his cock pulsing into you, you’re completely blissed out.

You’ve never come like this before, even with him— you open your eyes to tell him this, which is when you see it. The glint of the camera lens catches your attention and you scream; not even his hand could’ve muffled that.

Brendon’s head snaps toward the door as he follows your gaze, and you think you’re going to vomit. He’s pulling out of you, and you whine unintentionally; you hate how empty you always feel after he fucks you. But more than the emptiness is your confusion and distraction. Jake and Nicole are in the doorway, and you can see the camera in Jake’s hands. There’s only one explanation here, but you cannot process it. Brendon finds the words though.

“Jesus, Jake, what the fuck?!” Brendon is pissed—no, he’s furious—you can tell. He’s jerked his pants up, and you tug your leggings back into place and grab for your shirt; he shifts to stand in front of you protectively even once you’re dressed. He’s shaking with anger, and you place a hand on his back to sooth him. This is bad.

Nicole peers from under Jake’s arm. “We could hear you fucking from the living room. We flipped a coin to see who got to barge in. If I won, I was gonna ask to join you,” she says with a flirtatious smile and it’s enough to break the tension—almost. You laugh a little, at least. “But,” she continues, “Jake won. We all agreed he should take photos.”

“Then you’re all lucky that we have a show tomorrow and it’s too late to get replacements, because otherwise, you’d all be fucking fired,” Brendon snarls, and you squeeze his shoulder. He’s trembling with rage, but at your touch, you feel his tension ease a bit.

Jake looks like he feels terrible—he holds the camera out to Brendon, clearly a peace offering. Brendon snatches it, fingers already working to delete the images, fury radiating through him. You peek over his shoulder, and you see the photo on the display.

You stop him, your eyes on the screen. “Wait, Brendon, it’s good.” You’re in awe of the shot. It’s the two of you, hands muffling each other, and the way his shirt falls, nothing is visible while plenty is implied. Jake took it right after your eyes slipped shut mid-orgasm, while Brendon’s head was tossed back in bliss. It’s in black and white, and it’s a really great photo.

The next image is almost the same, except Brendon is kissing you deeply, and the way your back arches into him and your hand clutches him says you’re definitely coming hard. However, his shirt once again plays the role of censor and, together with the steam filling the room, it keeps the capture from being explicit. It’s gorgeous, it’s sensual, it’s dreamy, it’s perfect.

You want it. You whisper this to Brendon, your fingers dancing across his back where he’s kept you, shielding you. He turns to look at you now, and his eyes soften. You repeat the request, going on tiptoe to press a kiss to his lips. You can feel him relax a bit more, and he caresses your face as he returns the kiss. When you part, he searches your face to be sure you’re actually comfortable with this, and you watch him accept it. He passes the camera back to Jake.

“Two things. One, I will fucking fire and then kill you if you ever take photos of Y/n again without her permission.” Brendon’s tone is deceptively light, and the four of you know how serious he is. “Two, I want both of these sent to me in a password-protected zip file as high resolution files, and I want to watch you delete them from your camera and computer after I have them.” He turns to you, eyebrow raised. “Anything else you want, baby?” His voice is soft, indulgent, and sweet; you wrap your arms around him from behind while resting your chin on his shoulder.

You meet Jake’s eyes, and you grin, knowing you’re about to save him. “I want Jake to take still shots when we finally film our sex tape. These are stunning.”

Brendon laughs, and all the tension finally dissolves. You feel his body relax in your grasp, and you snuggle into him. Jake looks much more relieved, and Nicole elbows him. “Dude,” she tells him, “I think you’re gonna live. Let me know if you need an assistant for lighting and shit.” She grins, but Jake still looks pale. Brendon punches him lightly on the shoulder.

“They are great shots. But I will fucking kill you,” he repeats with a smile, leaving the bathroom with his arm around you. He pulls back the curtain of his bunk and helps you up, climbing in after you. Once the divider is closed, you begin the process of stripping; this is the biggest con to bus nights. Getting undressed in bed is near impossible. Normally, you would’ve both changed into pajamas after actually showering, and those would’ve been far easier to tear off of each other. However, given the interruption, the night isn’t proceeding as it normally would.

Once you’re both naked, you collapse beside him, breathing hard. “That was a workout on its own,” you mumble, whimpering happily when Brendon tugs you closer. You throw a leg up over his waist, snuggling close and running a hand over his chest affectionately. “B, those pictures…” and you can feel him tense next to you. “No, nothing’s wrong. I was just going to say, I want them printed on giant canvases for our bedroom.”

He laughs a little, and you think he’s finally relaxing. “Whatever you want, baby. Your body is always a fucking masterpiece, but especially in those photos. You’re fucking incredible. God, you look so good, and you sound so good. I wish you could hear your moans the way I do; they’re like goddamn music. Most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard. An absolute symphony of bliss and euphoria and passion.”

You blush, smiling up at him. “Well, you get some credit there too, B. The masterpiece and music wouldn’t be half as good without you running the show. ”

He kisses the top of your head, hand stroking over your bare back. “Darlin, trust me. I’ll conduct that symphony any time.”

[thedaveandkimmershow]

Well.

That was one helluva last week.

Mostly it was the wind storm that dropped on us Tuesday evening. 

I actually caught a prediction of the storm ("Bomb Cyclone" as the news called it) by UW Atmospheric Scientist, Cliff Mass, a few days earlier... but my read of his prediction put the worst of the storm along the coast and all over the Cascade foothills.

Sucks for them.

Of course I never considered how bad the "normal" part of the storm would be and I got my first taste of it walking across UW's Red Square after dark starting my way home. A bit of rain... but a lot of wind that was starting to push against me in a meaningful way. Then later I'm on 196th in Lynnwood waiting for the crosswalk light when an east to west gust of wind forces me to lean into that wind because I wasn't sure if it would knock me over. Seriously. 

Of course by that time Kimmer'd already told me our neighborhood was without power. Driving home, though, I got a pretty good look at how far beyond our neighborhood the loss of power extended.

I arrived home to a neighborhood cloaked in darkness but with Kimmer already having set up candles all over the house. Every room. It was a very sweet look and I took a bunch o'pictures. ☺️

Thus was our home life transformed.

For example, with no power to the oven it's... salad time.

With no light or heat, the best play seems to be diving under the covers as quickly as possible and waking up the following morning with power restored.

That was the plan.

Unfortunately the next morning did not bring electricity with it so we drove to work an hour and a half maybe two hours early and scored breakfast sandwiches at a nearby Starbucks in town.

On the other end of the day, we delayed leaving town for as long as possible, hoping the power'd be back late in the evening but before we rolled into our driveway.

Nope.

That didn't work either.

This is Wednesday night, now, and since it's around 11 anyway, we go to bed after a little Resident Alien on my laptop, with my Bluetooth speaker, through Kimmer's WiFi hotspot named "Franklin".

Next morning, Thursday morning, there's still no power so we get outta bed, throw on some cold clothes then head out to Fred Meyer real quick for some light shopping then breakfast sandwiches in the Starbucks that's just inside the southwest entrance.

After shopping and breakfast, we head back home where, Hallelujah!, the power's back on.

Did I say Hallelujah?

Now Kimmer, especially, is back in business for online work from home. Unfortunately for me, the power back on doesn't mean instant hot water again. So I head out, second consecutive morning without a shower of any kind.

Returning home that evening, we're back to normal with a cherry on top, the cherry being the nut-free, made in a nut-free facility, deeply chocolate frosted cupcakes that're also injected with chocolate frosting.

Cuz I'm a great husband like that. 🥳

So then Friday's a regular day only it's not a regular day because it's Linzy's birthday! 

First thing in the morning, though, we look up and out the french doors to our bedroom when we spy Dinker the cat outside in front of the doors. Not a super unusual occurrence... only he's been gone missing a coupla weeks and we presumed him dead on account of raccoons.

So this is our cat. Back from the dead.

By the way, he's chunkier than when we saw him last two weeks before... and he smells of cigarette smoke. So either he took up smoking and then binge-eating mice and birds or...

Someone's been keeping our cat locked up in their home for the past two weeks.

Insane.

Pretty sure we know who it is 'cause, sadly, they're in a late stage of life with an ever looser hold on reality. 🤨🤔

Anyway, Dinker The Cat came home. 🥳

Back to Linzy's birthday, though, because early that afternoon we picked her up at her place and jetted off to Pacific Place in downtown to catch the newly-released "Wicked". Later, my second-cousin texts me 

"Did you like it ??"

And I say

Absolutely. But the experience for me went like this: They coulda lopped off the first five to ten minutes and started with Galinda arriving at school. I spent the first half of the movie HATING. GALINDA'S. GUTS. The middle of the movie was the most compelling, powerful part. Then fun until they meet oz. Then the end gets super intense until both linzy and I discovered this was part one of two movies and the second doesn't come out until this time next year. WHAAAAAAAAAAT???!!! 😡 But yeah. Great movie! ☺️

Yeah.

That was not. A fun surprise.

So now we're into the weekend and we're looking ahead at this coming Thursday: Thanksgiving.

Kimmer's doing a cooked potato trial run, testing out her recipe and cooking instructions for what will be, essentially, today's breakfast. Then she's on the phone with a dear friend whose family's joining us and the discussion gets well into the tall grass of food, drinks, desserts, and seating arrangement.

The missus 'n I talk about these things as well, trying to determine next steps so that the week goes smoothly.

Which is all.

We really.

Want.

🙂

[hospitalterrorizer]

diary390

10/16-17/24

wednesday - thursday

sushi was postponed...

sad because today i was going crazy how hungry i was, my gf had to order food and i had to eat leftovers... maybe i'm screwed up if a lot of my calories seem to come from snacking on carbs... if that's the only thing like holding me over... idk... whatever though, it does kind of feel good to not eat a lot i guess, or, eat less, since i already didn't eat a lot. is that messed up, sorry, i guess the being hungry is leaving me scattered. or maybe i'm just deprived of sugar and that's also good for me...my brain is adjusting... guess i am a freak fiend for sugar.

anyway, got ending a of fear and hunger termina... a lot to say and i'm sleepy. i learned to get ending b, at the tower, i need to kill everybody and that made me cry a little, honestly, it made me so sad! i can't hurt them, or i can, i guess i will... to see... because it seems like a happy ending for the character you put through there and everyone kind of deserves that happy ending. but gosh. i don't want to hurt them, i like them too much. ending a was shockingly easy, or, i guess i got lucky, apparently miro is gonna be nerfing damage over time and the blade weapon, the meat grinder thingy, i don't think it's thingy, it's just meat grinder, but i got the final boss with damage over time from poison, bleeding, and burning i think. i'm glad i did, but i guess if i'm any good, i'll be able to figure out a good strategy by the time the update arrives and i'll be able to do that route without being too cheap... but it feels like being cheap with the enemies is intended, because they can mess you up bad. so i think some of that will remain. i hope miro keeps it playable for people like me who really really suck at games, is all. i guess i have easy mode though. i don't mind doing that. what else...

well, thinking more on the meaning of the game, it's still difficult to put anything together entirely about that, there's a lot of stuff i looked at in the dialogue though, between certain characters, that makes them more affecting to me, the game gets more emotional as i think about it more. very odd, or not odd really, that's how lots of things are, the emotional experience eventually crystalizes into something more easy to articulate, and you don't necessarily give anything away when you do. i remember being scared of that as a kid, and early adult, that telling people these thoughts made them less important inside you, that was just clinginess, our private experiences remain such, heavy as always, it is a curse really that you can never be rid of them, an inkiness always following you. anyhow, reading marina's dialogue when she's in your party rather than play her, it reminded me of when i've had people in vegas and shown them around, pointing at how awful things are, hating the place in front of them, stuff like that. and then things like referring to herself as her father's "crossdressing son." i'm sure all of this is very general (every character just about has a twinge of that (it's good, though)), but it also feels easy to make it particular, or, there's a particularity to her that reaches me, and others, showing people around the evil places we grew up, or places we've come to see evil in, and the nostalgia for earlier times. in a way, looking at prehevil through her and levi's dialogue, there's something expressed about seeing a place you hated get worse, fall further into reaction and 'tradition' which seeks to snuff out all difference, for the two of them it can be / will be fatal, especially at that point, a material situation built on creating more desperation.

the other thing, is learning that rher's traces are simply being manipulated by the sulfur cultists is crazy, as is the rather poetic fact that the moon is only reflecting the sun, making it feel very crazy and obvious. so i suppose this make's rher's dimension the sulfur god's, meaning the production present, the strange factory putting...i'm not sure, you find lots of food, it seems like it's an extension of the god of fear and hunger maybe? as if he is some kind of god of labor? the flesh monstrosities stitches makes being a hyper-efficient and tortured labor force for one particular thing? very weird. it's also crazy that le'garde is the kaiser... and then logic, being olivia's sister, karin died in the fight with her... which was sad but then we won, i felt a huge weight off my shoulders, that twist is almost too much, the two reunited but in some... end of eva goo world where everybody is one...that kind of vision always makes me so sad, not that i think miro likes it, but that this is the "happiest" ending possible for the others... but i suppose as well... this could be a force which is genuinely kinder to people? it seems possible. it also seems possible to be, and it seems explicit in its ties to the fascist kaiser populist army, or co-option by them, that it could also, by the fact that desires and wishes of each shape the world inside the simulation, the wish granting, it would only turn to some sort of echo chamber (from the start it's an obvious analog to the internet, i wonder where miro will take it).

i'm just kind of devastated to have beaten it... these games now mean a lot to me, so suddenly. it feels really good to have new favorites, in games. with books, not to devalue their meaning to me as they always mean so much, but that is the thing, they always mean so much (i also always need to read more (i am stupidd...)), and music, i just love a lot of it, and spend a lot of time with it, movies... it's rare with movies too i suppose, but games idk, they are special to me, i grew up with them, books, music... and out of the three there, they are honestly rather...not good a lot of the time. stupid, aimlessly violent, whatever... halo is fun but what does it mean to me, the time i spent, it feels like, wasted youth almost. this didn't feel like a waste of time, i guess when games make you feel pain, like actual pain, like, i wish i were dreaming pain, and panic, it forms a connection in your body, they are extremely about embodiment, good arcade games are always like that, home gaming, it seems as if it's been harder for people to get there. but horror games, and games like this especially, they bridge that gap to the body, the speak to it by making your heart race, and then, speak to your heart with the characters, and then suddenly, your body feels its particular sorrow for a dead friend, as if a real body has lost life and fallen near you. it's not even 1/10th of real loss, but, maybe 1/100th? i'm not sure. i'm very emotional, and i care too much about very stupid things, i will get to something related to that in a bit, from today. but god, i dunno, the way it works, its movement, it is special for that alone. and then... the art... the characters, the fact that the lore is less lore and more a bunch of odd poetic associations between images and miserable sensations, failures of knowledge, in fact, that's something interesting the game's lore about gods contradicts and fights itself, the skin bibles vs. that donovan guy's book, who says enki is effete, the fact that miro weaves in this reactionary perspective into the production of some knowledge, it points to something much more interesting happening in the text, or via the text something we can recognize appears.

so, uhm, i made my phone lock screen this:

i found it on...pinterest...so... you know... hard to know who made it... oh i just found it, luo qiangwei, idk where their links are at... but i like how she looks a little alien in this one. the long neck is cute. anyway, i dunno... i'm just dumb and feel like she is #way #relatable but that's not a great way to look at things, i feel some shame about it i guess, because maybe it's obvious or something, i dunno, that's dumb, i just feel it. she's like sad and strange, i am also sad and strange, that's what people seem to say, or one kid years ago said i'm weird, and most people say i'm kind of sad.

i also made a drawing today, because i was so sleepy i napped, which is now proving to be stupid, since it's 1:35 am right now (whoa... 13:35, like that one puzzle (my mind is ppsycho). i kept having this vision as i was in and out of sleep, it was this:

i don't know what to make of it, the penis woman, or the prawn baby. the entire vision was continuously, the penis woman reaching toward the baby, the other woman scared, watching, it was only ever getting nearer and nearer to happening, the sense was that it was some terrible inevitable ritual, but it was so distant from me, and the woman seeing, she was trying to protect the baby at the start but eventually seemed to stop, i dunno. clearly part of this is too many video games... but also i'm ddisturbed anyways. i always like hands that look like that, drawing things of that nature, it's cuz i liked vatiel's hands, the creature from sh3.

i should go to bed now,

so,

byebye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[starlight-time-machine]

Week in Review

08/18/2024 – 08/24/2024

Sunday

Week 28 of missing Cipher Academy

UNDEAD UNLUCK PEAKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK Ruin coming back to ruin the day is another callback moment, but it’s so gratifying to see Fuuko react entirely different this time around – it really shows just how much she’s grown. In general, Fuuko’s just so kickass in this chapter…AND THE TITLE DROP WITH ANDY COMING BACK AHHHHHHHHHHH

SpyFam was literally a nothing chapter lol not to be a slice of life complainer but. Even the slice of life elements of it weren’t interesting to read.

Nui ni Koishite ii Desu ka?: I haven’t read a lot of straight romance manga…I’m just not big into the genre, I think… But I felt strangely compelled by this one when I saw a plot description on Twitter, and I surprisingly really enjoyed reading it. I think I just like romances where the main leads are forced into a situation where they have to help each other out/keep a mutual secret (such as Fruits Basket). I like the comedy that arises from their absurd situation, I like that the girl is a little unsettling about her love of plushies, and I like that due to the nature of the curse, the guy has to be invested in making the girl happy. God, if this manga had come out like ten years ago, it would’ve gotten the 60 chapter run it deserved rather than the rushed 2 volume run we got here… The romance progressed quickly, which was nice, but I would’ve really loved to see them either develop the romantic build up more or explore their life as a couple afterwards, especially in regards to each other’s families (we haven’t seen the girl’s family at all)… I haven’t read the ending yet so there’s still a bit to go, but I mourn for what could have been. Now I’m gonna have to be the weirdo championing for this shoujo manga that literally like only ten people outside of Japan have read…

Monday

Umm

Tuesday

REVUE STARLIGHT EL DORADO HAS FINALLY ARRIVED I have work to do but I couldn’t help myself and played through a route…the Kaoruko and Maya route is sooo funny and cute, and seeing Ayasa reach new heights in her voice acting as Salvatore was a real highlight. I was, admittedly, a little disappointed in the overarching story: I was hoping Judy would be more of a menace like they were priming her to be, and I can’t believe they didn’t even show us the KaoMaya corporate bonding retreat… The most this route did was give Class B more of a spotlight, but even then they were kind of just reaffirming their intentions without going through much of a real arc. El Dorado was fun, and the music was great, but it being truncated also left me wanting more. (And this is unfair to El Dorado, but Salvatore’s backstory was so similar to Ouyang’s from She Who Became the Sun that I was expecting a similar arc trajectory, only to be somewhat let down when it wasn’t as brutal as SWBTS lol. But maybe that’ll be different in the full version of El Dorado.)

Watched the Make Some Noise episode with Brennan, Jacob, and Lou and goddd it was so funny. The three of them have great energy together.

Wednesday

Umm

Thursday

Read through both volumes of Until I Love Myself, and it was a pretty well told and moving memoir. I appreciated the care that the mangaka put towards depicting the differences in other people’s experiences and how they may have gaps in their own knowledge, but their commitment to connecting with others is inspiring to see. I would give it a 7/10 overall.

Friday

I picked up Potion Permit again. I had bought it in like 2023 and played the shit out of it, but seeing that the dev team was still constantly pushing out pretty major updates, I wanted to wait until it was more complete to play it again. Fast forward to now, where my friend got Fields of Mistria on early access and streamed it to me because I was also interested in the game…it’s cute looking, but I think the issue with a lot of indie games is that their art direction is gorgeous but their writing suffers. And considering how I only play farming sims if there’s a Love Interest I want to date, and how none of Mistria’s options really interest me right now (and the lack of multiplayer)…I probably won’t pick it up in the future. But seeing the various items you can collect and running around doing tasks made me nostalgic for Potion Permit, hence the return of my potion madness. More on it when this gaming binge session ends.

Saturday

Potion Permit’s got me in a vice grip. It’s undeniably a mediocre game, but there’s something about it that really compels me. People have called it grindy and unfinished, and that much is true, but I love grinding the resources and fighting the creatures and doing my little tasks around town in the most efficient way possible and levelling up my bonds with the villagers. I think I just like the conceit of being an apothecary more than being a farmer – I love making potions and supplying them and doing little puzzles as a break away from the regular gameplay. Writing wise it definitely struggles a little, as most of the bond stories aren’t that deep or engaging (Matheo’s romance path is like the only one that has any real chemistry). I feel like there’s an outline of a personality for each character, but their dialogue writing just doesn’t do those personalities justice (the writing voices aren’t strong, and sometimes there are grammatical oddities that make things sound off). Also there’s just way too many characters. Did we really need two sets of “doubles”? And have all four of their names start with D??? Despite of all my gripes, however, I can get sucked into playing this game for hours on end…I’m probably going to go until I max rank everyone’s bond levels and then consider the game complete lol. 7/10.

[thequiver]

Hey remember several months ago when I was like "hey, WIP Wednesday?" and you all said yes? Well it's a Thursday, but here's a VERY late WIP Wednesday with my current WIP and hopefully it'll get me to actually finish it soon!

--------

Lorna finds her on top of the cliff in the dark. There’s a small fire lit, providing both guiding light and ominous shadows as Lorna lands, a quiet rustle of the grass signifying her arrival. “I’m not letting you jump again,” she says, taking a seat next to the other woman.  “I’m not going to.” Terry replies, but instead of her usual temper she just sounds tired. “Just needed t’ think is all.” Lorna nods slowly, looking out at the ocean that stretches on for miles before leaning against her friend and resting her head on her shoulder. “Do you….do you miss her?” Terry shakes her head and some of her hair falls in Lorna’s face, it smells of sea salt and grapefruit and home- she can’t bring herself to mind.  “I was her Lorna.” Terry says softly. “It’s not- it was always me. That’s how it works.” “Then why-“ - why did you keep trying to kill yourself? She wants to ask. She wants to scream. She wants to grab Terry by the shoulders and shake her, demanding answers.  “I missed Sean.” Comes the whispered response.  Lorna knows better than to ask which one.  “Why…..why did you do it? She said…something about me shaking apart the earth?” Terry breathes deeply, holding her breath until she can’t anymore and then exhaling with a sigh. “The world was breaking down.” “What’s the difference?” Lorna asks, finally turning to look at her.  Terry won’t meet her eye. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want to know, Lorna. Not right before you leave for New York.”  “Terry-“ “Just don’t worry about it. It’s over, you’re fine now.” “Yeah the world’s real safe,” Lorna grouses, rolling her eyes.  Terry ducks her head down, inspecting the pebbles in front of her. “It’s not,” she whispers, “you’re not safe.” “This isn’t about me.” Lorna says, fighting the urge to get up and pace. It can’t be. Terry doesn’t say anything, merely worries a piece of granular limestone between her fingers.  Lorna stares at her, almost daring her to meet her eye. “Oh come on Terry, this isn’t about me.” “Of course it is.” She snaps back. “Who else would it be about?”

and then from later on in the fic

“Maybe we should make use of a bed this time.” Lorna whispers. “And then some other time we can see if that fancy magic rock you told me about really does scream or if it’ll just be you.”  Terry’s face goes bright red, and she takes a moment to compose herself. “Your room at the Boneyard’s closest.”  “Let me fly us.” Lorna mumbles, leaning up for a soft kiss. “I think JP’s watching something in the living room and I don’t want questions…just yet.”  Terry nods and lets Lorna float them into the air, holding onto her tighter. “You sure know how to sweep a girl off her feet.”  Lorna huffs a laugh through her nose as she flies them towards her room. “Are you going to be like this the whole time?”  “Until I find a better use for my mouth.” Terry says with a wink.  Lorna hopes her face doesn’t look too panicked as she gently sets Terry down on the balcony, using her free hand to push the doors open. “Behave yourself.”  “Yes yes, not touching the rock samples. I’m not interested in those right now.” Terry said, crowding Lorna towards the bed. “Come to bed with me Lorna.” Lorna snorts. “It’s my bed you weirdo.”  “Mhmmm.” Terry hums, sending vibrations running pleasantly down Lorna’s spine. “And come to bed with me in it.”  Lorna laughs through her nose, but goes where Terry guides her, falling onto her bed with a soft sound of surprise. “I’ve never…with a woman before.” “That’s okay,” Terry murmurs, kissing her again. “I’ve got you.”  “You always do.” Lorna replies breathlessly as Terry starts kissing her neck again.

[enhypia]

° 𐐪𐑂 ₒ ˚ JW ; if you need a lover, let me know

pairing: yang jungwon x fem!reader

genre: fluff

word count: roughly 1.8k

⊱ ── {⋅. ♪ .⋅rose⋅. ♪ .⋅ } ── ⊰

series masterlist ⸺ enhypen masterlist

monday

“jungwon, for the last time, nobody came to the shop to buy white camellias” you say to boy beside you.

he groaned and toyed with the said flower in his hand. “where do they get this though? you guys are literally the only flower shop in this town”

“maybe they grow them” you suggested and it’s like a lightbulb went on in his head.

“you’re right, i’ll start looking for that” he said making you roll your eyes

“why are you so hung up about this?” you asked and he gave you a “really?” look

“i’ve been receiving flowers on my stuff for a week straight every day, and no matter how early i come to school, i can’t catch whoever is leaving them. of course i’d be hung up about this, i want to know who they are” he answered, frustration laced in his voice.

“and you’re not helping because you won’t even tell me what the flowers are and what they mean” he complained pouting.

you laughed at his accusing look, “i like seeing you suffer, find it out on your own” he rolled his eyes at you

“also, don’t you think they don’t want you to find out who they are? no clues or anything, just flowers” he groaned at your statement

“i know but ?? i just want to know who they are and find out why they’re doing this, and also thank them” jungwon sighed, feeling his head ache from the situation

“sorry buddy, you know i’d tell you if anyone bought any of the flowers you received” he waved off your apology since you didn’t do anything wrong anyway

he received a total of 6 flowers now

monday - gardenias (secret love)

tuesday - pink hydrangeas (feelings of love and sincerity)

wednesday - sunflowers (admiration)

thursday - tulips (love)

friday - daisies (innocence and sweet attributes)

and today, white camellias (adoration). since you walk with him to school every day, you always get to witness his reaction, and yes that also means he forces you to go to school earlier than usual just to catch whoever leaves the flowers for him.

and it's funny because the flowers are never put in one place, like the first flower was on his desk, the second was taped to his locker. this of course, leaves jungwon more frustrated much to your amusement.

tuesday

"how did they even do this without me knowing?!" jungwon exclaimed in disbelief after seeing, you guessed it, a flower specifically geraniums, on his bag.

you couldn't help the laugh that escaped your mouth once you saw it was geraniums "this has got to be my favorite out of all the flowers they gave you"

"please do not laugh at my misery" he says glaring at you, but it just made you laugh harder.

"i'm laughing because of the flower" you reply after calming down, he gives you a quizzical look

"it's a geranium, it means stupidity and foolishness" you stifle a laugh.

"i think they're basically saying you’re stupid for either not knowing who they are or not noticing them" the glare he gave you sent you to another round of laughter.

"if it makes you feel any better, someone bought geraniums yesterday" his eyes widened immediately

"who? do you know them? do i know them?" he asked rapidly.

"chill won" you chuckled. "like i said, someone bought geraniums but mom was the one who attended to them"

"but did you see who bought the flowers?"

"i was in the garden tending to the flowers, i just know about it since mom asked me to get the flowers, sorry won" you say, feeling guilty.

he sighs and nods understandingly, "it's okay, how would you have known anyways"

wednesday

"oh jungwon, where's (y/n)?" a classmate asked upon noticing the usual girl was not with him arriving to school.

"she's sick, flu from what she told me" he answered, setting his bag down.

"that sucks, i hope she gets well soon" jungwon nods in agreement, the day isn't the same without your usual bantering.

the day went on with jungwon volunteering to be the one to give you all activities you missed, but what bothered him was the lack of flowers.

'maybe they stopped?' he thinks, and tries to ignore the disappointment when he still finds no flower, not even a petal on his stuff by the time the day ends.

thursday

"(y/n)'s still sick?"

"yeah, but she told me she's getting better so she might be able to attend school tomorrow" jungwon answered walking to his locker, sue him if he was hoping he'd see a flower, but just like yesterday, there was none.

"no flowers today?" his friend asked when they entered the classroom.

"i guess not" jungwon shrugged, mentally scolding himself for expecting to find a flower, thinking that the sender may have just forgotten yesterday.

"you think it's actually (y/n) who leaves them?" they suggested.

"not really, she's always with me on the way to school so i don't think it's possible for it to be her" he explained. "why'd you think so anyway?"

"it's just because you didn't receive any the same time (y/n)'s been absent, but you do have a point so"

and jungwon was left in his thoughts. 'it's just a coincidence' he tries to convince himself. but would it be wrong for him to hope that it really is you leaving the flowers?

friday

"don't tend the garden while it's raining, that's stupid" jungwon scolds you.

you rolled your eyes and stuck your tongue out at him "i'm better now, that's what matters" you reply

"but if you didn't do that, you wouldn't have gotten sick" he states making you groan.

your eyebrows raise upon seeing jungwon's empty desk, "no flowers?"

"nope, i think they stopped, haven't received one since wednesday"

"damn, so their last flower to you was the germanium? they really went, 'you're stupid' and left" you joked.

this time it's jungwon rolling his eyes.

--

"do you want to do something after school? my mom banned me from gardenwork for the rest of the week"

you asked after the teacher finally dismissed the class. receiving no reply, you turned to look at jungwon to see him staring at something inside his bag. peeking in, you see a purple hyacinth.

while jungwon was happy to see flowers again, he couldn't ignore the disappointment upon realizing that the flowers are not from you.

“purple hyacinth, huh?” you whispered to yourself, but jungwon still heard you

“what does it mean?”

“it’s a flower usually given when someone’s asking for forgiveness” his eyebrows furrowed.

“why would they be apologizing” you shrugged following with an “i don’t know”

saturday

it is absolutely illegal to have to go to school on weekends, i should report this, jungwon thought

he had to go to school for the meeting of class representatives. now he’s rethinking his choices in life for accepting the rep role. but it was a good thing that the meeting went by quickly, it only took 2 hours instead of the usual 3 hours.

“where did you get the flowers last week ms. may?” jungwon heard while walking down the stairs making him halt in his steps.

“they were actually given to me by a student” the cleaning staff answered.

“oh really? why?”

“they asked me to leave it on mr. yang jungwon’s stuff so they wouldn’t get caught” she chuckled

wHO??? at this rate jungwon was itching to just butt in the conversation

“let me guess, is it ms. (y/n) who asked you?”

“mhmm, who else would it be?” they laugh and went on with their way.

and jungwon, jungwon was rooted on his place. nothing was registering in his head after what he heard. he fell to sit on the steps with his hands in his head trying to keep himself calm.

he was clearly failing considering the bright redness of his cheeks and the wide smile on his face that he’s oh so trying to stop.

he let out a disbelief laugh and steadied his rapidly beating heart. jungwon walked out of school with a skip in his step.

upon arriving home, he quickly gathered the flowers he got, that he preserved and went to the town’s only flower shop.

—

peeking in, jungwon saw your mom and no signs of you.

“oh jungwon? (y/n)’s at the house” she said, jungwon shook his head.

“that’s better for me honestly since i don’t want her to find out about this” she looked at him confused until he brought out the flowers.

“can you tell me what the flowers are and their meanings? (y/n) won’t tell me about it” he pouted slightly. your mom let out a laugh and gladly explained to jungwon each flower he received.

and with every explanation, he couldn’t contain the deepening blush and smile on his face, as well as the overwhelming joy building up in his heart.

“so this is why i’ve been missing some flowers, huh?” your mom teased, jungwon flusters and raises his hands up in defense

“your daughter was the one stealing ma'am, i’m innocent” he jokes.

your mom couldn’t help but smile, she was filled with relief knowing that your feelings were requited.

“is the shop close tomorrow? i wanted to buy roses but they might not be fresh tomorrow if i buy them today” he asks.

“don’t worry, leave it to me” jungwon starts to protest but stops at the playful glare your mom sent him.

“it’s for my daughter anyways, now, tell me what you’re going to do” jungwon grins and shares his plan.

sunday

"(y/n)! something arrived for you!" you heard your mom call.

"eh? i didn't order anything?" you asked confused. you walk to the door to see a bouquet of red roses on the console table, you look at your mother and all she did was shrug.

seeing that there was a note, you cautiously grabbed it and read.

"i'm sorry, the only flower that i know the meaning of are roses. so here you go, roses for the only woman i want to say its meaning too <3"

red roses, love, i love you? a blush forms on your cheeks, "the sender is outside" you hear your mother say.

opening the door quickly, there stood the one and only, yang jungwon.

"so uhm, if you need a lover, let me know" he says, holding out the single piece of rose in his hands to you.

you chuckled and quickly engulfed him in a hug, which he gladly returned.

"that was cheesy" you commented, still not letting go of him, hiding your face in his chest.

his heart's beating so fast, cute.

"giving me flowers anonymously is cheesier" he retorted.

"how did you even find out?" you ask finally raising your head to look at him, glad to know you're not the only one who's a blushing mess.

"i have my ways" he replied smirking, making you roll your eyes.

"will you tell me the meaning of the flowers now?" jungwon teased. you shook your head and broke free from the hug

"nope, i believe they're irrelevant now"

"good thing your mom already told me then"

"MOM?!"

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

series masterlist ⸺ enhypen masterlist

a/n: here's the first work for the now playing collection !! i love writing stuff inspired by music that's why i started this series/collection type of thing. the col. will feature various types of media so please look forward to it~ i hope you like it !! heeseung's will be posted next !! thank you btw for 100+ followers huhu icb it aak im so happy <3

ALSO !! enhypen's comeback on october 12 and hoon mc starts on the 8th !! let's all look forward to it and support our boys ~~