#wine bottle totes

[ecosixpackrings]

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[julieschulerart]

Wine Bottle Tote Bag.

[rebeccccccaaa]

Poker Face!

_______________

Spencer Reid x Reader

:: It’s game night at Rossi’s, a little pasta al dente, poker chips from Emily’s place, and a little too much Italian red wine. Poker after hours becomes a new playing field when you and Spencer decide to finish your game of blackjack back in his place. ::

:: warnings :: smuttt! and super mushy gushy fluff, sex under the influence (both parties drank alcohol), strip poker (kinda you’re playing blackjack), afab!reader, no mention of contraceptives oops...

:: authors’ notes :: i didn’t realize until i finished the story that spencer probably has his own poker set, he’s literally from vegas; anyway thanks for all the love on my last fic too sweet, hope you guys enjoy this one just as much <3

WC~ 3.1 k

________________

“Ok, ok! That’s enough!” Emily shouted, swinging her glass around. 

“Careful, Prentiss. This carpet is fine Italian wool. Gifted from my first mother-in-law,” Rossi scolded, Hotch chuckling beside him. 

“You guys are relentless,” she continued.

“I can beat him, I know it!” you shouted, your eyes comically wide. 

“No shot, sweetheart. Reid is literally banned from every casino in Vegas, you think you can really beat him?” Derek commented.

“I may not be banned from Vegas casinos, but I never lose Blackjack,” you argued.

“Honey, you’ve lost eight games in a row!” JJ shouted, laughing and holding her stomach. 

“Nevermind that! I’m gonna beat you Reid, if it's the last thing I do,” you narrowed your eyes playfully at Spencer, who sat as dealer with a giant grin on his face.

“I hate to interrupt this incredibly captivating game of Blackjack, but I’m kicking you out. It's late and an old man’s got to get some rest,” Rossi interrupted, erupting a series of ‘Boo’s’ and groans. 

“Come on, come on. Call your DD’s, call your taxi cabs. Or if you want to stay, you can start washing the dishes,” he bargained. 

Suddenly, all at once, everyone stood up practically scrambling and giggling like kids to avoid cleaning up. Penelope, Emily, and Derek hopped into a cab and Hotch drove JJ home then himself considering he hadn't anything to drink that night. That left you and Spencer, lingering on the sidewalk nudging each other in a fit of giggles. 

“I assume you’re gonna take a cab?” he asked you.

“That’s the plan.”

“So we can share since I don’t live far from you. I’ll walk from your place,” he suggested. 

“Oh no, no. Look what I snatched when everyone started leaving,” you pulled out the briefcase of poker chips that Emily had brought for that night out of your tote, “We’re going to your place and finishing what we started.” 

“Oh boy, you have no idea how long it's gonna take. We’re gonna be up all night!” Spencer laughed, and you gasped. 

“You’re an asshole,” you shoved him, before calling a taxi.

You squeezed in the back of the cab, legs bumping against each other. You felt your skin light up, you’ve always felt a certain way about Spencer. I mean who wouldn’t? Well actually, not a lot of people. You always tried to hide the pangs of jealousy or your faces of reluctance whenever the women you were working with or interviewed on cases would flirt with him, unnecessarily albeit. This happened more often than you care to admit or notice. 

You walked into Spencer’s apartment, tossing your bag on the couch before falling to your knees and putting the briefcase on his coffee table. You opened it up and began shuffling the cards, quite intensely to make sure Spencer wasn’t going to cheat. You knew he wasn’t, his brain was too smart, but you did it for confidence instead. 

“Do you want anything to drink?” he asked from the kitchen.

“Whatcha you got?” you asked.

“I’ve got a couple of beers, probably a little old. Oh, I still have the bottle of wine that Rossi gave to us for the new year,” he told you.

“Oh! Bring the wine! We’ll drink the beers later,” you winked at him, “Let’s get the fucking party started.”

It was late into the night now. You lost count how many times you’d lost to Spencer already. Just a couple of hours passed, and the wine was almost finished. You and Spencer couldn’t stop laughing and wiggling around. As Spencer shuffled the deck, a request you made him do after every turn, you came up with a devilish idea. One that would definitely get you in trouble should the outcome be anything other than what you would hope. 

“Ooh,” you cooed, mischievously.

“What?” Spencer questioned.

“Oh, nothing, just had an idea,” you were smirking, or rather trying really hard not to burst into laughter. 

“This can’t be good,” he mumbled, shaking his head. 

“Why don’t we spice things up, shall we?”

“No, no way,” Spencer already knew what you were going to say. 

“Strip Poker!” 

“No!” he shouted, a big smile on his face contradicting his words.

“What, you scared? Scared that suddenly I’m starting to beat you and you’re gonna have to take all your clothes off?” you teased.

“No, I am a gentleman and I’m not gonna sit through watching you take all your clothes to prove a point,” he argued sassily.

“You are way too confident for your own good, Dr. Spencer Reid. You’re just chicken.”

“Ok, fine then. You dealer, or am I?” he asked, pouring the last bit of wine into your cup. 

“Why don’t you hit me this time,” you said. 

“You got it,” he responded, “Care to shuffle while I grab the beers?”

“Of course. About time we crack those open,” you smiled widely. 

Now sitting down, face to face. Staring intensely at each other for a moment, hints of mischief and amusement in both your eyes. As you shuffled the cards well, Spencer couldn’t help notice the way your eyes were practically sparkling in the warm light of his apartment. How soft your skin looked in the light too. He doesn’t know when it happened. If it happened just now, or maybe he’s always felt this way about you. 

Maybe it was those times where he felt a little more protective over you than the others on more brutal cases. The feeling of responsibility for you, to guide you, when you first join the team since you were the same age. Or maybe it was when you let him practically talk your ear off about peculiar facts regarding the case you had wrapped up. The small smile of your face knowing he thrived in these moments. The sweet giggle you let out when Morgan and Prentiss groaned knowing he would begin yet another tangent. 

Yeah, it was definitely then he realized how special you were and how much he wanted to keep you in his life; in more ways than one.

But in this moment, when you handed him the cards with the most devilish smirk on your face, Spencer felt a wave of avidity, longing for you more than he ever has before. He felt so conflicted about the game you were about to play. He respected you so much and yet craved to see you, to have you, in this very way for so long already. He didn’t know what to do. He dealt the cards however, entertaining the idea, and you tapped the table for cards before taking a big swig of your beer.

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, Spencer’s breath hitched. 

You took off your earrings first and Spencer quirked an eyebrow. 

“What? Were you expecting me to take off my shirt right away?”

“No,” he shrugged before giving you the deck to shuffle again. 

“I swear to-” you cursed, pulling off one of your rings this time.

Your shoes came off, then your socks. All your accessories were scattered on the table before you. The last game you stood up unbuttoning your pants. Spencer clenched his jaw, averting his eyes downward as you peeled your pants down your legs. It took quite literally everything in him to not drool over you. You sank back down to the ground, the bottom half of your body shielded by the table and Spencer looked back at you again. He dealt the cards. You asked for a card, and Spencer knew then you would lose. The probability was certain. When he hit Blackjack and you didn’t, Spencer gulped and you sighed in defeat. 

Staring boldly at Spencer, you disrobed your last garment that would give you some kind of modesty. Your bra is on full display with nothing else but your pair of underwear. You had a crucial decision to make if you ended up losing again and you were seriously considering that would be the case, the butterflies erupting violently in your belly. 

“We don’t have to keep going,” Spencer cleared his throat.

“And why would I do that?” Maybe it was the alcohol in your system that gave you this sudden courage, this seduction. You were starting to have fun seeing Spencer squirming on the couch, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple. You suddenly wanted to egg this round on as long as you can. 

“Ok, then,” he muttered, as he dealt the cards, slowly this time.

Spencer had a face down card, assuming it was a value of ten like always, and an eight. You had a seven and a three, you were fucked. You needed an ace and you’d hit blackjack, or you could build up; but that’s risky. Maybe Spencer can go over. You had a chance, you know it. Your chest was moving fast and shallow, but your face was stoic and firm. Spencer on the other hand was antsy; his eyes frantic and his leg bouncing. You knew he was staring at your chest. You planned to use it to your advantage. Was it fair game? Yeah, yeah it was. It wasn’t your fault he was distracted.

“Hit me,” you egged.

“You got it,” he responded. 

A five. Fuck. 

Spencer hit himself and he drew a seven. Those are bad cards. He most likely went over and you might actually finally beat him. 

“One more time, boy wonder,” you snapped. A six. A beautiful six of hearts. 

“I stand,” he mutters, probably knowing he lost. 

“Let’s see those cards, baby,” you teased.

“You first,” he told you, and placed your cards. 

“Blackjack, baby!” 

Spencer laid his cards revealing his seven and eight and underneath a nine, he busted; the cards of course. You won, you finally won. You jumped up in celebration, prancing in your undergarments around the room giggling and cheering. 

“I did it! I fucking did it! I beat the boy genius, fair and fucking square! You lose Spencer, loser!” you shouted taunting him and he couldn’t help the smile painted in his blushing face; he almost forgot you were prancing around almost naked in the middle of his apartment. 

“I- I was distracted,” he shuttered. 

“Damn right you were,” you joked, squeezing your breasts to flaunt them in his face. 

“It wasn’t fair game,” he bantered.

“It wasn’t fair game, my ass. I won and you lost, and you’re being a sore loser,” you mocked as you walked towards him like a panther, playfulness and seduction dripping from your tongue. 

Spencer took the moment you walked near and grabbed your wrist yanking you to stumble into his lap. You were shocked, surprised, a little turned on. You held onto his shoulders, your breathing a little quicker than before. You tried to convince yourself it was from the celebratory dance and not the growing bulge from Spencer that poked you from beneath. 

“I told you, I was distracted,” he told you, his hands finding a place at their hips. Fingers caressing delicately the hem of your underwear. 

“Blah, blah,” you whispered.

“Don’t give me that.”

“Now, Spence, I believe there is something you have to do, is there not?” you whispered.

“What’s that?” he bantered.

“You lost.”

“Right, unfairly I might add,” he joked.

“If all you’re gonna do is talk, then let me do the honors,” you told him. 

“Be my guest.”

Your fingers pulled gently at his tie he wore, pulling over his head and tossing it to the side on the floor. You started unbuttoning his shirt, Spencer staring with heavy eyes at you as you did so.

“I thought we were only taking off one item. We should play another round then if you want my shirt off,” he teased you, bringing his hands to gently hold your wrists.

“Like that’s gonna happen,” you rolled your eyes playfully. 

Spencer relaxed against the back of the couch as you unbutton his shirt all the way. You brought your lips down to kiss softly at his collarbones and his shoulder. Moving along his chest to kiss the other side. His hands moved slowly against your hips, fingers sliding between the fabric of your underwear and your skin. Your skin erupted in chills, a tingle running through your spine making your ears feel hot. You dragged your nose along his strong jawline before nipping your teeth playfully against his cheek. 

He brought his hands up, fingertips tracing your spine until he reached your bra. He skillfully unhooked it leaving you a bit breathless for just a second but a second too long. You could feel it, without even needing to look at him, to know he had such a teasing smile on his gorgeous face. You wanted nothing more than to kiss it off him. 

You shrugged your bra off, tossing behind him giving him a playful wink which made him chuckle. You brought his hands to your breasts as you pulled his head towards you by the back of his neck to kiss him feverishly. Something you both had wanted to do for quite some time now. You wiggled your hips a bit, feeling the prodding against your center, which made Spencer groan lowly in the kiss; his hands squeezing your breasts hard in discomfort. 

“Fuck, you’re gonna drive me insane,” he told you.

“Let me say hi to your little friend, Spence. Or do you want to play for that too?” you taunted him.

“God, no. I couldn’t wait a whole other hour for you to beat me again,” he bantered making you scoff and roll your eyes; his hands shot straight to his zipper to pull his pants down just enough for the both of you. 

You were practically itching to get your panties off. Standing up suddenly, both you and Spencer reached instinctively to pull them off you, his lips attaching themselves to your soft belly and hips. He freed himself from the constricting fabric of his pants and pulled you down, or rather yanked you to him. You couldn’t help the bubbly laugh that came from you making Spencer smile blissfully. 

You bite your lip as you reach between your bodies, lining Spencer up against you perfectly. The warmth radiating from you was driving him crazy. It took everything in him to not suddenly take control and rut his hips against you. You sank slowly down on his length, not so little, you thought yourself.

“Oh jeez, I feel like I could come already,” you gasped, the pressure building in the pit of your stomach felt already overwhelming. Maybe it was the fact you hadn’t had sex in years. You felt starved of this kind of touch, this kind of intimacy. The kind of feeling of Spencer’s cold fingertips touching and gliding across your skin like you were glass. Yeah, that was the feeling you didn’t know you needed, you didn’t realize you craved so much until this very moment. 

“I’m a bit embarrassed to admit the same,” he chuckled breathlessly, “If you don’t start moving, I’m not gonna be able to hold myself back any longer.”

You took this as the green light to start rocking your hips back and forth. One hand resting against his cheek and the other stabilizing yourself against the frame of the couch. Spencer’s hands rocked with you, his way of helping and understanding the rhythm you were going. He started, with gaining confidence, to buck his hips into you and that’s when the pleasure began to build. You panted heavily above him, moans every now and then escaping your mouth to echo against the walls of Spencer’s small apartment. 

“Shit. You feel so good,” he breathed out, “I thought I’d last longer.”

“Please, please don’t come yet,” you begged; bringing your forehead to his. You could see his skin becoming shiny with sweat, his cheeks flush with redness. Spencer, determined to make you come before him, or at the very least with him, reached between your thighs rubbing fast and swift circles against your clit. Your hips jerked with pleasure and Spencer’s name dripped from your lips like honey. 

“Oh, that’s it,” Spencer whispered. His free hand came up and pulled you in a passionate and sloppy kiss. His tongue entwined with your and you moaned wildly as did he. His brain was fuzzy, not that your’s wasn’t also, with the sounds of sex, the rhythm of your hips, the warmth of your slick soaking his fingers. 

“I’m close, fuck I’m so close, Spence,” you whined.

“Let go, sweetheart.”

“Ngh!” you moaned loudly. You dipped your head forward resting your forehead in the crook of his neck. Your bodies were so close, your bare chests pressed against each other. You both could feel the other’s breath and slowly you began to match each other’s erratic rhythm the closer you got to your climaxes. You messily pressed your lips against Spencer’s one last time before the wave of electrifying pleasure overcame you. 

When you came down from your high, all you could feel and hear in that moment was Spencer. His soft pants brushing your ear, his arms cradling you close, his subtle leg shaking from what you assume was him also coming with you. 

“That was really good,” you giggled.

“It really was,” he agreed.

“I’m gonna tell everyone about this,” you whispered wickedly. 

“What?” Spencer questioned fearfully. 

“I beat you in Blackjack,” you reminded him, making him laugh loudly. 

“Give it a rest you would?” he sighed. 

“No way. I’m gonna tell everyone. And everyone’s gonna tease you because I beat you fair and square. Unless, you wanna admit that my boobs were distracting you from your card counting tricks,” you teased.

“Alright, you won fair and square,” he smiled blissfully at you, his eyes soft and gentle in the warm light.

You giggled sweetly bringing him in a tender kiss, definitely not for the last time that night. Your bodies were entwined for the rest of the night until the tepid sunrays peaked meekly through the curtains of Spencer’s bedroom window. The two of you sharing giggles between the sheets with his arms embracing you the way they had been all night. Needless to say, blackjack continues to be your favorite poker game. Especially now more than ever. 

[scealaiscoite]

⋆˚࿔ one hundred paired prompts 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

¹⁾ a pot of fresh coffee and split knuckles

²⁾ orange peels and a car battery

³⁾ sand dunes and leather boots

⁴⁾ a printer and a knife

⁵⁾ incense and handcuffs

⁶⁾ a crushed velvet sofa and a video camera

⁷⁾ stale cigarettes and cotton candy

⁸⁾ loose change and headlights

⁹⁾ grey hairs and a gold belt buckle

¹⁰⁾ burnt coffee and grass stains

¹¹⁾ cherry cola and blue jeans

¹²⁾ chipped green nail polish and an empty dinner table

¹³⁾ a stack of paperwork and metal music

¹⁴⁾ a patchwork quilt and sweet tea

¹⁵⁾ a hockey sweater and a two-seater sofa

¹⁶⁾ perfume oil and rolled up shirtsleeves

¹⁷⁾ fallen leaves and guilt

¹⁸⁾ radio channels and a birthday card

¹⁹⁾ ravens and meadowsweet

²⁰⁾ apologies and bitter red wine

²¹⁾ library books and pouring rain

²²⁾ a breathalyser and popcorn

²³⁾ princess plasters and iodine

²⁴⁾ a tote bag with one broken strap and a winding staircase

²⁵⁾ a parasol and a tumbler of straight whiskey

²⁶⁾ fresh honey and a cult

²⁷⁾ wisdom teeth and blue eyes

²⁸⁾ sour cherries and a stolen hoodie

²⁹⁾ the flu and a heatwave

³⁰⁾ a boonie hat and a sunset

³¹⁾ vanilla perfume and a kitchen counter

³²⁾ a buffalo skull and a leather armchair

³³⁾ a throw pillow and a doorway

³⁴⁾ pink fluffy handcuffs and an unexpected guest

³⁶⁾ a package and a divorce

³⁷⁾ a stripper pole and a hangover

³⁸⁾ familiar cologne and a black eye

³⁹⁾ a lit candle and a snowstorm

⁴⁰⁾ an unsealed letter and a fallen pine tree

⁴¹⁾ headlights and footprints

⁴²⁾ a blocked number and traffic lights

⁴³⁾ a racesuit and a countdown

⁴⁴⁾ a butcher’s apron and a phonecall

⁴⁵⁾ battered comic books and a broken window

⁴⁶⁾ cold floorboards and a roommate

⁴⁷⁾ smooth vermouth and gold rings

⁴⁸⁾ a lip piercing and a rough hand

⁴⁹⁾ someone’s spare room and an eclipse

⁵⁰⁾ a game of mahjong and bad jazz music

⁵¹⁾ a jigsaw puzzle and a mortuary

⁵²⁾ a broke-up sidewalk and a knitted scarf

⁵³⁾ a poundshop wig and broken glass

⁵⁴⁾ a bunk bed and a crush

⁵⁵⁾ a red ink tattoo and a dinner gone cold

⁵⁶⁾ a warm palm and a flannel shirt

⁵⁷⁾ fresh basil and a half-empty bottle of arrack

⁵⁸⁾ a nightclub bathroom and smeared eyeliner

⁵⁹⁾ a busted lip and strawberry icecream

⁶⁰⁾ a floral-patterned dress and a looming balcony

⁶¹⁾ peach pits and a pressed shirt collar

⁶²⁾ a white mercedes and cheap perfume

⁶³⁾ a fwb and a housekey

⁶⁴⁾ a blue sarong and a fingertip tracing over a scar

⁶⁵⁾ a sauna room and a terse exchange

⁶⁶⁾ fried plantains and a briefcase

⁶⁷⁾ dried lavender and a tiled bathtub

⁶⁸⁾ a hotel room and a bouquet of lilies

⁶⁹⁾ sweet mango lassi and a suitcase

⁷⁰⁾ orange streetlights and a nightmare

⁷¹⁾ a crucifix and a thigh tattoo

⁷²⁾ a palm tattoo and the thrum of a heartbeat

⁷³⁾ a champagne room and a police siren

⁷⁴⁾ blue nitrile gloves and a hickey

⁷⁵⁾ a double-wide trailer and shotgun shells

⁷⁶⁾ stitches and pyjama shorts

⁷⁷⁾ karaoke and a snowdrift

⁷⁸⁾ an older man and a twin bed

⁷⁹⁾ chinese takeout and a graveyard

⁸⁰⁾ wet clothes and ambulance sirens

⁸¹⁾ carbolic soap and a creaking staircase

⁸²⁾ an undercover assignment and wrung hands

⁸³⁾ the back seat of a limousine and bustling night streets

⁸⁴⁾ a steamed-up bathroom and cold floorboards

⁸⁵⁾ a grand prix and a breakup

⁸⁶⁾ a third place trophy and a picture frame

⁸⁷⁾ the last slice of birthday cake and crossed legs

⁸⁸⁾ squashed raspberries and heated cheeks

⁸⁹⁾ pink lipgloss and brass knuckles

⁹⁰⁾ a ghost mask and a late visit

⁹¹⁾ loose bullets and slashed tires

⁹²⁾ a tactical belt and patterned bedsheets

⁹³⁾ a goaltender’s stick and a lonely walk home

⁹⁴⁾ a dog bed and a migraine

⁹⁵⁾ lit billboards and a floor-length gown

⁹⁶⁾ a divebar negroni and a game of pool

⁹⁷⁾ olive trees at harvest time and divorce papers

⁹⁸⁾ a caviar bump and vanilla coke

⁹⁹⁾ a whale tail and pantsuit

¹⁰⁰⁾ legs thrown into a lap and calloused hands

[meazalykov]

sickness

kika nazareth x reader

summary: embarrassing yourself in front of your lover is not how you pictured your first night-in

warnings: food poisoning, vomit!!, possible emetophobia trigger, comfort

you’re in your apartment, setting up for movie night. 

the living room is cozy, and the soft glow of string lights hung across the walls creates a warm, intimate space. the midcentury modern style of your place makes everything feel neat for tonight. 

kika is coming over soon, and it’s only been two weeks since you both became official. you can’t help but feel a flutter of excitement mixed with nerves every time you think about her. 

the both of you have been playing together at barcelona for a while now, but this new chapter between the two of you still feels so fresh.

you’ve just finished arranging the sushi you ordered—a spread of different rolls and sashimi, all kika’s favorites—on the coffee table in front of the couch. 

you’re not the biggest fan of sushi, but you got yourself some california rolls, figuring it was the safest choice. you’re not too worried about it. tonight is about making kika happy, and you’re more than okay with that.

just as you lay the blankets on the couch, there’s a knock at the door. your heart skips a beat. it’s her.

you open the door to see kika standing there in her pajamas, a filled tote bag, a pair of loose sweatpants and a comfy t-shirt, hair slightly tousled as if she’s just rolled out of bed. 

she’s got a shy but warm smile on her face as she holds up a bottle of wine.

“thought this might be nice with the sushi,” she says, stepping inside. the moment she’s through the door, she wraps her arms around you, pulling you into a hug that instantly makes you feel like you’re home.

you laugh softly, squeezing her back. “you read my mind.”

kika pulls away just enough to look at you, her eyes twinkling. “i missed this. missed you.”

you smile, your heart swelling. “i missed you too. it's nice to finally get some time alone. between training and games, it’s like we never have a moment by ourselves.”

“well, we do now,” she says, her voice soft but filled with affection. she glances over at the coffee table and her eyes light up when she sees the sushi. 

“oh my– y/n…this is a lot don’t you think?”

you nod, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious. “it is, but i know it’s your favorite.”

kika’s smile falters slightly as she looks back at you. “but you don’t really like sushi, do you? i don’t want you to feel like you have to eat it just for me.”

you shrug, trying to brush it off. “it’s fine, really. i got california rolls. i can handle those.”

she hesitates, her brows furrowing with concern, but eventually she lets it go, her smile returning. “okay, if you’re sure.”

you both settle on the couch, the sushi laid out in front of you, and kika picks the movie. it’s halloween season, so you go for something on-theme but not too scary—something you can both enjoy without losing sleep later. 

as the movie starts, you curl up into kika’s side, her arm around your shoulders, and everything feels perfect. the ambient lighting sets the mood, and you’re grateful that there’s no training tomorrow. it means you can fully enjoy this time with her, no interruptions, no alarms to wake up early.

you both dig into the sushi, kika happily eating her favorites while you cautiously nibble on your california rolls. 

for a while, everything feels great. you’re laughing together, making playful comments about the movie, and you can’t help but feel how easy it all is with her. how natural.

but then, as the movie goes on, you start to feel…off.

you’re nestled into kika’s side, the movie playing softly in the background. her arm is draped around you, fingers absentmindedly tracing small patterns on your arm. the ambiance in the room feels perfect—the dim lighting, the cozy couch, the quiet intimacy of just being together. everything feels right.

but then, a subtle discomfort blooms in your stomach. it’s nothing major at first, just a slight unease, like maybe you ate too fast or didn’t drink enough water. 

you shift in your seat, trying to adjust, hoping the feeling will pass. kika’s fingers keep moving on your arm, her body warm and relaxed next to yours, and you try to focus on that, on the ease of being with her.

still, the discomfort doesn’t go away.

instead, it grows. your stomach feels heavier, the sushi you ate sitting like a rock. you swallow hard, hoping it’s just a passing sensation, but each passing second makes the nausea more real, more pressing. your heart starts to race, the panic creeping in faster than you can control it.

you’re not just uncomfortable now—you’re scared.

it’s sudden, like a switch flipping inside of you. the fear of being sick, of throwing up right here, in front of kika, crashes over you. you can feel your chest tighten, your breath quicken. the last thing you want to do is throw up. 

the memories from when you were a kid flash in your mind—how helpless you felt, how terrified you were every time it happened. that fear has never left you, and now it’s rising like a tidal wave.

your muscles tense involuntarily, and you can feel your body starting to revolt. the room feels too warm, your skin prickling with anxiety, and all you can think about is the inevitable. 

your throat tightens, a warning. it’s coming, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.

you glance at kika out of the corner of your eye. she’s so calm, so content, her attention still on the movie. she’s enjoying this—enjoying being with you—and the last thing you want to do is ruin that. you don’t want to alarm her, don’t want to spoil the rare moment of peace you have together. 

the nausea is growing unbearable, and you know you can’t stay here. not like this.

you shift again, trying to find a position that might ease the discomfort, but it only makes things worse. your stomach lurches violently, and a cold sweat breaks out across your skin. the fear hits you hard, your mind racing with thoughts of what’s about to happen. 

the thought of throwing up makes your heart pound in your chest, your body trembling with dread.

"shit," you whisper under your breath, a faint, desperate sound that kika doesn’t hear.

you can feel the bile rising, and suddenly, you know you can’t hold it back any longer. you shoot up from the couch, your hand instinctively covering your mouth as if that will somehow stop what’s coming.

“y/n?” kika’s voice is full of concern, but you don’t have time to explain. you’re already halfway down the hall, panic driving your feet as you run toward your bedroom and into the bathroom.

the entire time, your mind is spinning, fear gripping you like a vice. what if this ruins everything? what if kika is grossed out by this, by you? what if she doesn’t want to be with someone who gets like this?

however, the nausea is too overwhelming, drowning out all other thoughts. your only focus now is making it to the bathroom before it’s too late. you stumble through the doorway, collapsing to your knees in front of the toilet just as your body gives in.

you retch, your body convulsing as the sushi comes back up, and with it, all the panic you’ve been trying to suppress. tears blur your vision, and the fear of being sick, of throwing up, grips you so tightly it feels like you’re suffocating. 

the taste, the sound, the feeling of your stomach turning inside out—it’s everything you dreaded, and it’s happening now.

throwback to when you were a kid, how you’d cry for hours every time you got sick. the fear, the helplessness—it’s all flooding back now, and you’re doing your best to keep it together but your body has other plans.

your breath hitches, and panic sets in as you realize this isn’t something you can just ride out. the nausea is overwhelming now.

“y/n, are you okay?” kika’s panicked voice cuts as she reaches you in the bathroom. 

you gag, your body trembling as you cry– tears streaming down your face as you clutch the toilet bowl, feeling like your entire body is betraying you. 

your chest heaves, your throat burns, and the panic sets in deeper, choking you with fear.

kika is right behind you in an instant. she kneels down next to you, gently pulling your hair back and out of your face. her soft hand rubs soothing circles on your back, and even though you’re in the middle of a full-blown panic, you can hear her soft voice.

“shh, it’s okay, i’ve got you. just breathe, y/n. it’s going to be okay.”

you shake your head, your body still convulsing as more of the sushi comes up. it feels like your entire body is revolting, and the more you throw up, the more you panic. 

you hate this. you hate feeling like this. it’s all too much, and you’re scared, so scared.

“i’m so sorry,” you manage to choke out between sobs, your voice trembling with fear and exhaustion. “i didn’t want this to happen, i should’ve—”

“y/n, don’t,” kika interrupts gently, her voice firm but kind. 

“you don’t need to apologize. i’m here, okay? i’m not going anywhere.”

you continue to cry, your body spent and weak as you finish throwing up. all you can do is collapse onto the cool tile of the bathroom floor, your head resting on the soft bathroom mat. 

kika stays with you the entire time, never leaving your side. she’s calm, collected, even though you feel like a complete mess.

after a moment, she stands up. “i’ll be right back,” she says softly, and before you can protest, she’s out the door.

you’re left alone for a few moments, the silence of the bathroom settling around you. your body is trembling, your head spinning with the aftershocks of panic, and all you can think about is how humiliating this must be. 

kika had to see all of that. you just threw up in front of her, cried like a child, and now you’re lying on the bathroom floor because you don’t even have the energy to move.

what if this is too much for her? what if she’s grossed out? it’s so early in your relationship, and already she’s seeing you at your worst. is this going to be the thing that pushes her away? you start to spiral again, your mind racing with insecurities. 

before you can dwell too much on it, kika returns. she has a small pile of things in her arms—a bottle of water, some medicine, a warm rag, and a banana. she kneels back down beside you, her eyes filled with nothing but concern.

“here,” she says gently, placing the rag on your forehead and offering you the water. 

“small sips, okay? you need to rehydrate.”

you take the water gratefully, your hands still shaky as you bring it to your lips. kika watches you closely, her expression soft and caring.

“i’m so sorry,” you mumble again, your voice hoarse from the vomiting and crying. 

“i didn’t mean to ruin the night.”

kika shakes her head firmly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. 

“you didn’t ruin anything, y/n. don’t even think that.”

you take another sip of water, your eyes avoiding hers. “but i should’ve known. i shouldn’t have eaten the sushi. i just wanted to—”

“y/n,” she cuts you off again, her voice gentle but insistent. “it’s not your fault. we can always get something else next time, okay? it doesn’t matter. what matters is that you’re feeling better.”

you glance up at her as your head lays on her thigh, your eyes wide with worry. 

“are you grossed out?”

kika pauses for a moment, then gives you a small, reassuring smile. “no, i’m not grossed out. honestly, i was more scared than anything.”

you blink, surprised. “scared?”

she nods, her hand resting on your arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. “yeah. i hate seeing you like that. i just wanted to help.”

you feel a wave of relief wash over you, though the embarrassment still lingers. 

kika smiles softly, leaning in to kiss your forehead. you didn’t respond to her due to your lack of energy, but its like she knows what you’re thinking. 

“y/n, it doesn’t matter if we’ve been together for two weeks or two years. if you’re not feeling well, i’m going to take care of you. that’s what this is, right? being there for each other. you’d do the same for me.”

you nod slowly, the weight of her words sinking in. she’s right. you would do the same for her without hesitation.

kika adjusts herself so that you can lay your head on her thigh more comfortably. she strokes your hair softly, her fingers running through the strands in a soothing rhythm. 

“just relax, okay? you’re going to be fine.”

you close your eyes, focusing on the warmth of her touch, the gentle way she’s taking care of you. it helps calm the lingering panic, helps you feel grounded again. 

you don’t have the energy to move to the bed, and honestly, you’re too comfortable here, with kika by your side.

she hands you the banana, breaking off small pieces and encouraging you to eat. “just a little bit,” she says, her tone light and encouraging. “it’ll help settle your stomach.”

you take a few bites, slowly, and she makes sure you take your medicine too, watching over you like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“thank you,” you whisper, feeling a mixture of exhaustion and gratitude. “i’m sorry this happened.”

kika shakes her head again, her thumb brushing against your cheek. “stop apologizing, y/n. i’m glad i’m here with you, okay? we’ll have plenty of other movie nights. i just want you to feel better.”

you nod, feeling a bit more at ease now, though the embarrassment still lingers at the edges of your mind.

the night didn’t go how you planned, but somehow, it feels like it brought you both closer. there’s a kind of intimacy in this moment, in the vulnerability, and you can feel how much she cares about you.

masterlist

[vividxpages]

7 and fluff pls!!! Love ur blog <3

a/n: love youu, hope you enjoy :* !

vivid's little autumn writing: If you want, you can now send me a number (or two combined!) from this list of visual prompts and I'll write a little drabble (fluffy and/or smutty, you decide) for it.🧸 you can suggest them until the end of October!

🍂

You watched your boyfriend with a grin as he juggled two full tote bags hanging over his shoulder, one paper bag in his hand and searched for the keys somewhere buried in the back pockets of his jeans.

“Jace, let me at least take one bag, okay?” You laughed as he danced just out of your reach, but not fast enough for you to not fish the keys out of his pocket and victoriously jam them into the lock to your little apartment.

“There’s three bottles of wine in there, I don’t want your shoulder to hurt later.” Jace said self-explanatory and held the door open for you, the leaves of the leek peeking out from the bag tickling his chin.

Ever since you had moved into your own little apartment with Jacaerys, the two of you had become obsessed with the weekly farmer’s market happening just outside of your door. You now frequently went there on the weekends, walking arm in arm past the little booths offering fresh goods and little snacks to buy. In a way, it felt like the two of you already were married and so far, the thought that this was now your life with your love by your side, had not really sunken in yet.

Since the two of you liked to cook together, a hobby now having become particularly cozy in the cold season, you often picked out fresh vegetables for a soup or sauce, creating your own little menu you would later relish together on the couch while a movie played.

But this weekend, it was Jace’s turn to host the weekly family dinner and the two of you were certainly eager – and rather nervous -  to cook for his parents and brothers, for the first time since you had moved together and made a home.

You followed him into the kitchen, casually kissing the back of his neck as he unpacked your groceries and laid them out on the kitchen counter in front of you. There were big and round oxheart tomatoes, a net of golden potatoes and various colorful paprikas, accompanied by a fresh baguette and a few boxes of herbs and spices. Over the food, the bottles of wine towered, making you smile.

“I still think two would’ve been enough.” You said teasingly and leaned your head on his shoulder, Jace’s arm naturally sneaking around your waist and pulling you closer.

“I know, but mom drinks white and dad drinks red, so…” He smiled at you, good-heartedly. “I’m not taking any chances tonight.”

You frowned at him. “And the third one?”

“That’s for us later when everyone is gone.” He mumbled promisingly and pecked your temple, his hand briefly sliding lower and over your bum as a pleasant tingle went through you. You looked at him lovingly, your heart melting at your loving boyfriend as if it was the first day…

“Should we start cutting the vegetables and heat the pot and the pan?” You asked him under your breath, your hand running through his hair as he leaned into your touch.

He hummed in agreement, chasing your lips with his own before you organized your purchases and got to work together. The kitchen, unlike the rest of the apartment, was rather tiny, but you liked being close to Jace like this. You never had trouble navigating where the other was, effortlessly falling into a familiar rhythm with each other as you washed the veggies and cut little pieces for the other one to enjoy in between.

When everything was done for now and you still had a little time before Jace’s family would arrive, he cut a few pieces of the baguette for you and sprinkled a couple of roasted tomatoes and herbs over it as a final touch. You hummed happily as you munched on the fresh bruschetta, sitting on the countertop while Jace stood between your thighs and ate his own.

Later this evening, Jace and you sat side by side at the head of the table, surrounded by his siblings and parents. You could not hide your proud blush as everyone enjoyed the hearty stew you had made, Rhaenyra and Harwin having spoken a toast to their son and his lovely girlfriend and the future you built together in your new home.

You gladly refilled their bowls and nearly suffocated at the happiness you felt rushing through you when Jace pulled you to sit on his knees and wound his arms around you, a content smile on his face as his family chatted with each other around him.

“I think we’re good hosts, wouldn’t you agree?” You whispered underneath your breath, your belly warm from the meal you had cooked together.

Jace kissed your cheek, in love and happy and so, so glad to have you by his side. “The best.”

[iwas-princess]

hihihi can I plzpkzplzpkz have iwaizumi hajime w a oikawas little sister!reader

iwaizumi hajime • my pride and joy

genre: fluff/suggestive

“babe, should we bring the watermelon or beer?” hajime called from the kitchen. his eyes were fixated on the brand new bottle of wine in his hands as he read the label curiously, a crease forming between his brows and a frown on his lips giving away his current emotion.

“um, i think kawa is going to bring the watermelons.” you answered as you entered the room after getting ready in the bedroom. “wait, no- matsukawa is.”

“so beer it is.” he sighed before settling the bottle into the open tote bag on the counter, his attention having yet to travel on you ever since you walked in.

“sorry.” you apologetically mumbled, watching his back muscles contort briefly when he set the wine down.

your prideful older brother, toru, was hosting a celebratory cookout in honor of his departure to argentina next week, gathering everyone he had ever met in his luxurious backyard this evening.

you were already practically sick that he would be so far away from you for a pretty large period of time, and this crowded get together didn’t help calm your nerves. if you weren’t dating his best friend, you easily could have gotten away with not attending and rescheduling with him in the morning to go out for lunch instead. but, iwaizumi persisted that you both go, reasoning that it would ‘matter more in the future’ and ‘you’re his favorite person, you have to go’. it was pathetic how well you listened to him, you decided.

his breath hitched as he turned around and caught sight of you, suddenly feeling anxious for the following few hours with you and two hundred other people. hajime always knew you were gorgeous, even as a child, but it never failed to take his breath away at how well you cleaned up.

“hey, sexy.” he mumbled under his breath before cockily leaning against the marble counter and shamelessly checking you out.

your cheeks heated at his attention, his predatory gaze and sly smirk making your sundress feel suddenly tight. you knew it was one of his favorites, but had faith that he would try to keep it together just for today— even at home. but, obviously you were too hopeful because now he’s practically drooling on his shirt.

“haji, wait until we get home before you start flirting. you’re only going to work yourself up with no relief.”

he groaned like a angsty teenager, throwing his head back dramatically at your denial. he understood why, of course, given that you both were staying at oikawa’s until the later when party had ended, but he still found himself slightly disappointed. it would be hours until you arrived home, hours of other people gawking at you while trying to hide from hajime’s view to avoid getting killed and he really wasn’t in the mood to watch you cry as he and toru argued over a ruined party.

since childhood, iwaizumi had been scarily protective of you, even more so than your own brother. everyone was terrified of him when it came to you, and even though you were hot, they all knew better than to pay you any mind. any more than a quick ‘hi’ would send them home battered and sulking, and absolutely no one planned on that fate tonight.

but, he was sure someone would try to tempt him with the way that dress hugged your curves.

“oh, stop acting like a child. you’ll get your fix on the car ride home— if you’re good.” you placed a quick kiss to his jaw for reassurance as you left the room once more, heading to the bathroom to finish your makeup.

good, he’ll be indeed.

—

the party was chaotic, just as you and hajime had suspected. your brother’s two acer backyard was filled with far more people than he had claimed he invited, and the many conversations overlapped each other loudly.

it was gorgeous though, the decorators sure outdid themselves with the many yards of fairy lights that hung over everyone’s heads and the floral arrangements took all of the guest’s breath away as they entered. drinks were in each hand, the variety being either a wine glass or a beer bottle, most picking the former.

tonight, you and iwaizumi chose to stay near the gazebo where oikawa and his fiancé stood as they greeted all of the guests and old friends of his with large smiles on their faces. most old high school teammates would make their way over to you two next, itching to catch up with the former ace and his girlfriend— his captain’s baby sister.

all of sejioh remembers the infamous oikawa y/n, the girl who was very off limits but everyone wanted, especially her brother’s teammates. it had been a common locker room joke that she would marry one of them someday, and they would gush about how great of a wife she’d be. iwaizumi would often find himself in a good amount of trouble afterward for getting physical with whoever would bring it up, or take of too far, and you had never loved him more than when you heard all of those stories.

“i just can’t believe that you were her pick.” an old teammate shook his head in disbelief as he downed his wine. “i mean, don’t get me wrong, iwa, i’m not surprised you were in love with her, especially after all of those punches i got back then, but wow. i’m just shocked she chose you and not hanamakki. they were good friends there for a while, y’know?”

you could practically feeling the anger fuming off of your boyfriend as your arms linked with him, his tan skin feeling clammy and heated against yours. his face was slightly red, tinted with light frustration from his old friend’s tipsy ramble. it was his second glass, and he had been talking both of your ears off for an hour now about ‘the good old days’. you wouldn’t have minded if hajime hadn’t felt so stiff and hot with each word the man spoke.

“yeah, well, i guess i was more her type than makki.” he shrugged, trying his best to come off as unbothered. “right, babe?”

you nodded, flashing a tight smile at his forced tone.

the flex of his arm as it suddenly tucked you closer to him caused a wave of need to flash through you, his possessiveness and strength making him even more attractive tonight.

you glanced at his face, but soon regretted it once you found that you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. he was a hunk, his face flushed slightly out of aggravation and lips in a very forced smile, as if he was trying his best not to frown angrily. you’ve always thought his hotheaded nature was attractive but tonight, it had done something entirely different to you.

you didn’t feel the insatiable need to tear his clothes off, or makeout with him in the bathroom until you both got caught— you felt proud.

proud that you had been lucky enough to find someone so obsessed with you that the mention of your ‘choice’ had him fuming and tightly trapping your arm in his.

also, so very proud that he was trying his best to appear far more positive than he actually felt, an accomplishment that he had never been able to achieve. but for you, he did.

and you had never felt so perfect for him than now.

“yep, definitely my type.”

[harrywavycurly]

Where We Started Part 15: Red or White?

Masterlist: Here

CW: None

Tag List: @fairytale07 @blckburd @indierockgirrl @styleswithaseaview

A/N: Harry is nervous and so are you but then it all goes pretty smoothly after Harry gets out his index card, this series has been so fun and dramatic so thanks for sticking around and also hope you enjoyed finally learning how y’all met! ✨

Harry makes it to your house in record time, he usually takes a good fifteen minutes to walk from his front gate to your front door but today he was using his key to unlock your door in less than ten. He used his time in the fresh air to clear his mind and help him relax a bit, it helped a little but the moment he walked into your house and slipped off his shoes he felt the nerves begin to make a reappearance in his tummy because he knows the next time he’s at this front door things will be different he’s just not sure how.

“Why are you just standing by my front door like a dead plant?” Your voice snaps him from his thoughts as he turns and looks at you. You have a teasing smirk on your face and your arms are crossed over your chest as you stare at him. Harry turns his head to look at the spot where you previously had the plant Ryan gifted you sitting by your front door, and he raises an eyebrow when he sees the spot is now empty not even the obnoxiously fake looking plant there anymore.

“Speaking of dead plants where is the fake one?” He asks as you turn and head towards your kitchen, he follows you with the tote bag in hand that has the two bottles of wine he brought from his house.

“I got rid of it.” Is all you say as you lean against the counter that’s furthest away from where Harry is standing in your kitchen, Harry just nods as he places his bag down and grabs the red wine out of the tote.

“Red or white first?” He holds the bottle of red wine up and then fishes out the white wine from his tote and holds it in his other hand. He notices how nervous you look as you mess with your hands and chew on your bottom lip all while your eyes bounce from bottle to bottle a few times before finally looking him in the eyes.

“I told Ryan I couldn’t be his girlfriend.” Harry nearly drops both bottles of wine at your sudden confession. He feels his mouth go dry and his hands become sweaty, he slowly places the bottles on your counter and swallows thickly before he motions towards the red wine.

“Red it is then.” You just nod as Harry turns on his heels to head towards the drawer you keep your wine opener in while you grab two glasses from your cabinet and place them next to the bottle. The two of you remain silent as Harry opens the bottle and pours you each a glass, you give him a small smile when he hands you your glass before heading into your living room.

“So-”

“Can you sit down please?” Harry stops you from saying anything else as he places his wine glass on your coffee table so he can stay standing in front of the couch. You just do as he asks and sit down on your couch and get comfortable as you watch him take an index card out of the back pocket of his jeans.

“What’s that?” He looks from the card to you and he just clears his throat and stands up a little straighter ignoring your question. “Harry what is that?” You ask again as you lean over and place your glass on the coffee table.

“It’s to help me with my thoughts.” He explains as he looks down at the card in his hands, the first thing he sees written down makes the corners of his mouth twitch upwards. “You remember when we met?” You smile and nod at his question as you lean back into the cushion of your couch to get comfortable and place your hands in your lap.

“Yes it was 2016 and you tried to steal my luggage at LAX.” Harry rolls his eyes at your answer because it’s only partially true. “And before you try to deny it let me remind you that you literally walked off with my duffle bag in your hands.” You add making Harry just shake his head as a small grin takes over his face.

“That doesn’t mean I wanted to steal it that just means we have the same taste in luggage.” He argues making you just playfully glare at him. “Besides as soon as you said it was yours and opened it up and I saw it was filled with books and sweatshirts I knew it wasn’t mine so I gave it back.” You laugh as the memory replays in your head, Harry’s face was priceless in that moment with his wide eyes and reddened cheeks because he was truly embarrassed that he grabbed the wrong duffle bag and here you were opening it up for him to see inside of it as if the two of you weren’t standing in the middle of a busy airport with the added stress of a few people stopping to take his photo.

“Thank god I didn’t open yours up since we both know you carry weird things with you when you’re traveling.” You tease making Harry’s face get warm as he looks away from you so he can glance down at the card still in his hands. The next thing he reads makes his heart feel like it’s going to beat out of his chest as he takes a deep breath and slowly releases it in an attempt to calm his nerves before his eyes go from the card back to you.

“I called Shawn to tell him he can’t marry you when you’re fifty and that if he tries to he will have to deal with me.” Harry watches your mouth slightly drop and your eyes go a bit wide. “I mean really if you want the whole truth of it I told him he can’t marry you at any age because honestly you wouldn’t do well in Canada it gets cold there and you hate the feeling of snow when it makes your mittens all wet and you wouldn’t know anyone there besides him and that would make you miserable because you enjoy being social and I know he’s a nice guy but how well do you really know him? He could be a secret serial killer for all we know like one of those that they end up making a Netflix documentary about and I just can’t have you all the way in Canada married to Shawn Mendes while I’m all the way over here in California madly in love with you and stuck being married to Niall Horan of all people.” Harry knows he went off script the moment he brought up your hatred for the feeling of snow on your mittens and he knows he sort of went on a rambling spree but the point is he got it all off his chest and by the time he’s done speaking he feels lighter.

“You say stuck being married to Niall as if that would be such a bad thing?” Harry raises an eyebrow at you as you stand up from your spot on the couch and place your hands on your hips, a feeling of confusion overtakes him as he thinks maybe you didn’t catch his admission of love. “You’d be lucky to have him.” The way your mouth fights to hide the playful smile that slowly forms on your face tells him you’re messing with him making him let out a huff and roll his eyes at your statement.

“You have been hanging out with him too much it’s starting to rot your brain.” He mumbles as he watches you step around your coffee table so you’re now standing just a few feet from him. “Did you uh hear me say I’m madly in love with you? Or are you just wanting to ignore it? Because it’s fine if you want to act like I never said it-"

“I know you love me Harry you’ve actually told me once already.” Harry’s mouth drops open and the index card falls from his hand as his arms slowly drop down to his sides. “Remember that night a few months ago when you called me for a scary movie marathon and you got too spooked after watching when a stranger calls that you made us switch to Disney movies and you drank about half a bottle of tequila because you kept trying to make margaritas without looking up a recipe?” Harry’s mind flips through memories as you’re talking trying his hardest to find any scraps of evidence from that night and he feels the color drain from his face when all he can remember is falling asleep on his couch and waking up the next day.

“I just remember falling asleep on the couch and then waking up in bed but with my feet on my pillow and my head hanging off the end.” You just laugh and nod your head because yeah that’s exactly how he ended up after you finally were able to pry him off the couch and help him get down the hall into his bedroom.

“Well before you fell asleep on the couch you kinda told me that you were in love with me and that I just had no idea and I didn’t think too much of it at first but the way you were looking at me was different than all the other times you’ve told me you love me and I just knew you meant it.” Harry looks down at his feet as he brings a hand up to rub at the back of his neck, he lets out a deep sigh before he looks up at you just to find you’re already looking at him with a reassuring smile on your face. “I don’t know how long you’ve felt this way about me but at least from this moment on you won’t have to worry if I feel the same or not.” You reach out and grab Harry’s hand and give it a squeeze making the hand he had on the back of his neck fall to his side.

“Because I’m in love with you too.” You admit with a smile and before he can stop himself Harry has his free hand cupping the side of your face as he takes a small step closer to you closing the gap between the two of you. His eyes are staring into yours and the slight nod of your head gives him the go ahead he was looking for, you close your eyes as Harry leans in and places a kiss to your lips that feels as if it was years in the making. You drop his hand so you can place it at the back of his neck pulling him in closer to you as his free hand lands on your hip, a grin takes over Harry’s face as he pulls away and rests his forehead against yours.

“So you’re not marrying Shawn when you’re fifty?” He asks making you laugh as you mess with the hair at the back of his neck while he runs his thumb over your cheek.

“I actually never asked Shawn to be in a marriage pact.” Harry leans back and raises an eyebrow at you making you let out a sigh as your hand goes from his neck to his shoulder so you can give it a little squeeze. “I uh well I used him as a last ditch effort to make you tell me how you felt because I’ve been just trying to see if you remembered telling me you loved me and the Ryan thing backfired because you turned into an-”

“The Ryan thing? So you just dated him to try and what? Make me jealous?” You roll your eyes at the smirk that takes over Harry’s face as the hand on your hip gives you a little playful pinch.

“I did like him he was a nice guy but yeah I kinda hoped me taking someone seriously would make you want to tell me you loved me or at least bring it up but then you turned into an asshole and it just didn’t go well so I had to bring out the big guns.” You explain making Harry laugh and shake his head, he can’t believe that this whole time he’s been worried about you not wanting to even be friends with him because of Ryan, while you’ve really just been trying to get him to say he loves you so you could tell him you felt the same.

“The big guns? You mean Shawn?” You just nod and Harry can’t help but feel slightly bad for his phone call he made earlier in the week to the Canadian, he’s going to have to apologize to him eventually.

“Yes because I know how you feel about him so I just knew me telling you there was even a chance of him marrying me that you’d tell me how you felt but nope. So then I had to call Niall and tell him everything and ask for advice on what to do.” Harry shouldn’t be surprised you told Niall but he can’t help but roll his eyes at the mention of his bestfriend’s name.

“If he had gotten you a ring I would’ve dropped to my knees in that closet and begged you not to marry him at fifty and just marry me now instead.” You chuckle at how serious you know he’s being. You just smile and lean into Harry’s hand that’s still on your face.

“You’re so dramatic.” You tease making Harry just shrug because it’s true, but both of you already know that.

“Yeah but that’s why you love me.” He states mater-of factly as he leans down so he can brush his nose against yours. “Can you say it again? Please?” He whispers making you smile as his hold on your hip tightens.

“I love you.” You feel him smile against your lips before he presses a soft kiss to them.

“I love you too.” His eyes are glossy when he pulls away from you. “I can’t believe we are standing here kissing in the middle of your living room.” He drops his hand from your face so he can grab your hand and interlock his fingers with yours.

“We’ve come such a long way haven’t we?” You ask as Harry brings your hand up to his lips so he can place a kiss to your knuckles. Harry just nods because it’s true, the two of you have come a long way from where you started as two strangers in the middle of LAX all those years ago to standing in your living room as two bestfriends who have just admitted to being in love with each other.

[imaginesandbandfiction]

Attention

An Outer Banks Imagine

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Reader

Masterlist

A/N: Based on this ask. It's short but I'm working on a smutty part 2 if anyone is interested ;)

“C’mon, Y/N, please?” Your best friend Sarah begs, pouting at you from across your bedroom.

“A Pogue party, though? Really?” You wrinkle your nose. Neutral territory boneyard parties were one thing, but the thought of crossing over to the other side of the island to drink shitty beer gave you the ick. Sarah widens her brown, puppy-dog eyes and gets up from your vanity to flop down on your bed next to you.

“Pretty please? Just this once, and if you hate it I’ll never bother you again.” You knew that was a lie, but you also didn’t have anything better to do, so you shrugged and sighed.

“Fine. But we’re bringing our own booze.” Sarah drowns you in squeals and flailing limbs, and you shove her off, giggling.

An hour later, you’re dressed and ready; properly fizzed up thanks to the bottle of Moet and Chandon you grabbed from the wine cellar in the basement.

When Sarah’s boyfriend pulls into the driveway, you put a stopper in the bottle and tuck it into your tote bag.

John B’s nice; you’ve met him a few times through Sarah, and you have to admit that he’s one charming motherfucker. He keeps you entertained with stories of his friends’ antics on the drive back to his house. You’ve heard about them from Sarah, but you don’t know much about them save for Kiara, who you used to go to school with, so it helps to give you an idea of what to expect from the night.

“Aaaaand this is JJ,” Sarah says, gesturing to the tall blonde boy on the right with a red solo cup in one hand and a lit joint in the other.

“Wassup, baby?” He says, slurring his words together a little bit. Sarah winces and turns to you. Her frown contains a thousand apologies.

“No, sorry, apparently, this is drunk, horny JJ.”

You feel your cheeks heat up—from embarrassment, yes. But also? He’s so fucking hot with that lazy, half-up-half-down grin. His lips are plush and pink except for the purple-black bruising tucked into the corner of his mouth, like he’d dodged a punch and almost got away with it.

“Drunk, horny JJ at your service.” JJ sticks the joint into his smirk and holds his now free hand out to you for a shake. You roll your eyes but take it anyway. He tightens his hand around yours, blue eyes glinting in the flickering firelight for one, two, three seconds before he ducks his head and brings your knuckles to his lips. “If there’s anything I can help you with, please let me know.”

“Ohhhkay, and Drunk, Horny JJ needs water. John B, will you take JJ inside and get him a glass?” Sarah turns her boyfriend and JJ lets your arm drop to your side, winking at you before he turns around to follow his friend.

Sarah’s apologies are wasted on you because the heat from your cheeks has migrated south and you’re too busy thinking about swallowing that smug smile to process what she’s saying.

[ecosixpackrings]

Wine Bottle Gift Bags: From Simple to Luxurious Options – Everything You Need to Know

When it comes to gifting wine, the presentation can be just as important as the bottle. Wine bottle gift bags are a perfect way to elevate your gift, adding a touch of elegance and thoughtfulness. From simple to luxurious options, here’s everything you need to know about picking the right wine bottle gift bag.

Simple and Elegant

For those who prefer a minimalist approach, simple wine bottle gift bags are an excellent choice. These bags are usually made from materials like kraft paper or lightweight fabric. They are easy to use, affordable, and add a touch of elegance without being overly flashy.

Reusable and Eco-Friendly

Eco-conscious givers can opt for reusable wine bottle gift bags. Made from materials like jute, or recycled fabric, these bags not only look great but also promote sustainability. Reusable bags can be used multiple times, reducing waste and offering eco-friendly gifting solutions.

Personalized Touches

Personalized wine bottle gift bags take gifting to the next level. These bags can be customized with names, dates, or special messages, adding a unique and thoughtful touch to your gift. Whether you are celebrating a birthday, wedding, anniversary, or any special day, a personalized gift bag shows that you’ve put extra thought into your present, making it even more meaningful.

Luxurious Options

For those special occasions when you want to make a statement, luxurious wine bottle gift bags are the way to go. Usually, these bags come in materials like velvet, patterned paper, cardboard, or leather, offering an elegant & sophisticated touch to your gift presentation. They are ideal for weddings, corporate gifts, or any event where you want to impress.

Features

When choosing wine bottle gift bags, consider practical features like handles, drawstrings, or padding. Handles make it easier to carry the wine, while drawstrings provide a secure closure. Padded bags provide extra protection to the bottle, ensuring it reaches safely at its destination. These practical features enhance the functionality of the gift bag, making it more convenient for both the giver & the recipient.

Whether you are opting for a simple bag or a luxurious option, wine bottle gift bags enhance the gifting experience. They protect your bottle, improve its presentation, and offer convenience. With so many options available, you can find the perfect wine bottle gift bag for any occasion.

[khaleesiofalicante]

“I took the liberty of preparing some questions for us to discuss,” Alec informs the other man. “To make this conversation easier.”

“And I brought wine,” Magnus summons a bottle of Pinot Grigio from his tote bag. “Two kinds of people in the world, huh?”

“We don’t have to use it,” Alec points out, looking at some of the things he wrote down earlier. Jesus, what was he thinking? “I don’t want this to get too clinical.”

“I don’t mind,” Magnus shrugs as he pours the wine into two glasses. "Go ahead."

“Okay,” Alec nods a little uncertainly and looks at his questions again. “Do you wanna start with the hard ones or the easy ones?”

Magnus looks up at that, his lips curling into an amused smile, as he hands Alec his glass. “Did you categorize them, Alexander?”

“No,” Alec is quick to defy him, carefully hiding the colour-coded sections on the piece of paper. “Answer my question, please.”

“Hard ones,” Magnus replies, settling on the settee, his legs crossing gracefully, as he takes a sip from his glass. “Might as well get those over with.”

“Right,” Alec clears his throat, putting the glass away, and decides to get to it. “What happens to our marriage when your father dies?”

“Good lord,” Magnus laughs in surprise. 

“I mean, if you’re getting married to appease your father, then what happens he, erm, you know?” Alec makes a vague gesture with his tongue. 

“He is not that old, you know,” Magnus hums into his glass. “It’s not as if he is going to drop dead a week after we're married.”

“God, I hope not,” Alec groans. “A wedding and a funeral? I don’t have the energy for that.”

Magnus smiles at that, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He simply takes another sip of his wine, a longer one this time. “Do you mind if we circle back to this one later?”

“Oh, okay,” Alec says a little dumbly. Maybe this wasn’t a great first question. “Should I ask an easy one?”

“How about a medium one?” Magnus suggests. “The ones you seem to have highlighted in…yellow, I presume?”

Alec tries not to scowl at that and looks at his questions. The ones that are indeed highlighted in yellow. “Whose place will we be staying at after we get married?”

“Mine. Next question.”

“What, we’re not even gonna discuss that one?” Alec frowns. 

“Should we?”

“I mean, you haven’t even seen my apartment,” Alec points out, a little offended on behalf of his half-decent living space. 

“I don’t need to,” Magnus shrugs. “I’ve seen mine.”

“Mine is closer to work, you know,” Alec grumbles. 

“And mine has a clawfoot bathtub,” Magnus notes. “Next question.”

“Fine,” Alec replies, even though he feels the need to argue.

He doesn’t know why. Magnus’ apartment is objectively better than his own.

His eyes fall on one of the red questions, one that he underlined a couple of times. He wonders if he should ask it now or save it for later.

He looks up to see Magnus refilling his glass. Never mind, he should probably ask it while the other man is still sober. “I’ve got another hard one.”

“Hit me,” Magnus nods. 

“What about sex?” Alec asks. 

Only Fools Rush In: Tuesdays are for Teasing

[julieschulerart]

Wine/water bottle tote bag. https://jschulerart.etsy.com/listing/1517039160

[afoggymirror]

반짝반짝 너와 함께 있을 때

‧ ₊ ˚ * ๋࣭ ⭑ ⚝ twinkle twinkle when i’m with you ༘ 𖤐⭒๋࣭⭑

broke!annyeongz | smut; fluff; puppygirl!Yujin; petplay; shock collar; drunk sex; heavy foot stuff; light hypno; light overstimulation word count | 8000 ao3

Buried several pages deep into a small newspaper, back in her old home town, she’d once read a completely inane story that, God knows why, lodged itself in her brain. It was about a local woman who, due to health complications, had lost the use of her legs, and so she trained her dog – a very pretty Border Collie mix – to fetch the groceries from the local store. Why this story just so happened to pop into her head again at that very moment, Yujin could only guess.

In total, she was carrying five bags: her purse from work balanced precariously on one shoulder, a large tote bag filled to the brim with stuff from the supermarket, and three plastic bags full of whatever couldn’t fit in the second bag. Really, Yujin wouldn’t mind carrying all this junk if it weren’t so fucking cold that day. She’d walked all from the office to the store with her hands awkwardly buried into her armpits for warmth.

She shitstepped around a corner and away from the wind. Her head sunk into her scarf and all the hair she had wrapped it around. Her breath condensed in the air, painting the view of the city around her a paler shade of gray. For a moment, something changed she felt lighter, like a weight had been lifted from her. The next moment she realized one of her bags had just ripped.

“Ah, shit,” she heard a loud, glassy thoonk against the pavement below, “fuck.” Yujin craned her neck, just fast enough to see the bottle of wine bounce a few times, before rolling to a lazy stop against a concrete bench nearby.

Waddling as fast as she could between the bags and her long fuzzy trench coat – its bottom now certainly coated in gunk from brushing against the ground – she squatted awkwardly to pick up the wine. A light pink rosé, one that they’d never tried before, but which seemed like something they would enjoy, soft and smooth, tending towards a dry. The bottle had some scratches where it hit the ground, but it looked to be intact otherwise. Thank God, who knows what Wony would have her do if she knew she’d wasted nice booze.

Maybe it was her mind conjuring Wony, maybe it was the Sun hitting the bottle and projecting pastel pink swirls onto the pavement, but the city suddenly seemed a lot less gray. Yujin saw in color. It was a Friday, and she was about spend three days with the love of her life. She wanted to hold the feeling in her hand, but instead she held the bottle tight and continued to waddle home, newly oblivious to the strain on her wrists, from where all the groceries now bounced.

Yujin arrived at their apartment building – a discreet little place, not far from the heart of the city – and fumbled taking the keys from her purse, fumbling through the front door and fumbling with the elevator button. She stood in front of the metal doors for a little while before remembering that the elevator broke that week. She took the stairs.

Entering the studio apartment, Yujin took off her shoes and her coat, before dumping all the groceries on the kitchen counter and diving onto bed. The kitchen counter and the bed were, of course, a few feet apart. Their apartment was very small.

She let herself relax, but not for long. Wonyoung wouldn’t be back for a little while, but she still had a lot to prepare before then.

Before the tiredness could get to her, she got up and got to work putting away the groceries. Her mind wandered through the minutes, taking salmon fillets from their package, laying them on a pan with oil (just a little oil, Wony was sensitive about that), setting the water to boil for the pasta…

A nice smell began to drift from the fish on the stove, and she opened the large window at the end of the studio apartment, so it wouldn’t be overbearing later. Wony was also sensitive about that. Speaking of which, was she supposed to leave the wine in the fridge? They’re meant to be in room temperature but Yujin remembered hearing it might be different for rosés?

Her mind busied itself as the Sun lowered in the sky. This evening must have cost most of her paycheck that month, and preparing it was becoming exhausting very quickly, but it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was that Wonyoung had a really bad week at work, and if Yujin could do anything to make it better, she would, regardless of price.

Often, she would catch herself fantasizing her words, once Wony got home. Hey baby! she would say, romantic, I know these weeks have been rough for you, I hope I can help get your mind off things for the weekend. Are you hungry? The dinner in her mind tasted amazing, they ate and then went out and then danced through the night, and when they came back their shitty studio had become a beautiful refuge, shielded from the world, lit by stars and candles and fairy lights- oh yeah, shit, the fairy lights!

She plugged in the lights that hung around the far window, framing the darkening sky in a homely orange glow. The dinner was ready by then: salmon and small farfalle with a light lemon and garlic cream, which she plated all fancy, just like they’d seen that guy do in Masterchef. Wony had to have gotten off work about now and Yujin was a little behind getting everything ready – one thing, she really needed a shower.

Yujin covered their shitty, repurposed garden table in a big, Lady and the Tramp-type cloth, magically converting it into the scene of a beautiful dinner, and was halfway turning to find a candle, when she caught sight of something weird, a really ugly orange stain on the floor tiles. Oh, absolutely not, what the fuck was that? She grabbed the rubbing alcohol and some towels and scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed, but the damn thing wouldn’t come off.

And so, when Wonyoung first saw her that evening, Yujin was on her knees, messy hair and work clothes, swiping at some unknown goo on the floor.

“Oh hey, the maid is here!” Wony joked, taking off her shoes at the door.

Yujin’s heart jumped. She turned around to see her girlfriend, an apparition framed in the light of the door way, long hair and winter coat trailing behind her in the air, her beauty gleaming even through the tired face of someone who’d just left a full work week.

All Yujin’s preparation faded from her mind. Through all these years, she could never get used to seeing Wonyoung. She wanted to say she loved her. She wanted to recite all the sweet nothings she’d practiced, to tell her how glad she was to see her and how lucky she was to be with her and that she gave her life meaning.

Instead, the stunned lump in her throat won, and what she said was,

“Did you like, puke on the floor here? What the fuck is this stain?”

“Language!” Wonyoung half-laughed, leaving her purse and coat on the counter and climbing straight into bed, “it’s probably something your clumsy ass spilled.”

Yujin rolled her eyes,

“My clumsy a- hey, don’t go on the bed with outside clothes!”

“You do it too!”

She literally did earlier. Whatever. Yujin turned and kept wiping at this cum stain or whatever this was. Oh yeah wait, she didn’t even say hi to the love of her life.

“Stop cleaning,” Wonyoung said in a whine, and Yujin stopped.

She looked back up at Wonyoung, puppy eyes failing to mask the expectant adoration they always held.

Wony laid back on the comfy bunch of plushies and pillows they kept propped against the the wall and, pouting, opened her arms wide, “hug.”

The word was a higher force moving her, Yujin dropped everything and jumped onto bed, scaling the pillows to lay her head on Wony’s shoulder. Wonyoung wrapped her arms around Yujin like she would any other plushie. Half her head was covered by a forearm and it was a little hard to breathe. She was in heaven.

“Good girl…”

Yujin’s cheeks turned red under Wony’s arms. She couldn’t help but smile her wide, dimply smile, before burrowing deeper into her love’s shoulder. There it was. That weird burning pride that made her want to hide her face. “Good girl,” why did she like saying that? Yujin was literally older than her.

They were both very young when they moved in together, and it had been scary for both. They’d been dating for a few years, and friends long before that, so they knew they’d always have each other. Still, things changed fast, money was tight, and work was insufferable. Since Yujin arrived in town, they’d jumped from shitty studio apartment to shitty studio apartment, frail ships braving the blinding city lights.

When everything else was uncertain, some things had to stay constant: their kiss, their arms, their love.

Wonyoung was warm. Yujin assumed she was, too. Neither had really rested all day. Wony’s wispy, flowery perfume hung now low and scarce around her slender neck. Yujin reached her head to kiss it, kissed down to her shoulders. Her eyes focused on Wony’s delicate collar bones, gentle beneath the wide neck of her blouse. Yujin traced them lightly with her fingers,

“Oh yeah I uh… I made you dinner.”

“Yeah, I can smell it.”

“Do you want some?”

“Later.”

“…”

“…”

“…it’s gonna get cold.”

“We can eat it cold.”

“…”

“…”

C… can we? Yujin hesitated, is salmon ok cold?

Wony’s remained stoic in her poutyness, though Yujin could see her fighting her cheek from forming a smile. Clearly she picked up on Yujin’s worries, and found them cute.

I guess salmon can go on sushi…

“Is… is the smell too strong, do you want me to go open another window?”

“Stay,” she squeezed Yujin tighter.

She stayed.

Wonyoung pet her hair. She got chills. Wony was right, they didn’t need to get up to eat right now. Or get up for any reason, really.

“Actually, go get the remote.”

Yujin got up and crawled to the corner of the bed where the remote had fallen and fetched it, immediately coming back to the pillows. Wonyoung set the TV to the most vapid thing she could find, at a volume just loud enough that they could hear the voices but not distinguish the words.

Hands weaved through Yujin’s hair, scratching lightly, drawing slow paths from the top of her head, ending behind her ear. Shivers followed where the finger tips passed. Yujin felt herself sink deeper into the crook of Wony’s neck, felt a sleepy whimper push through the lump on her throat, felt her vision blur just a little. She hadn’t noticed, but she really was tired.

Her bangs were scratching her eyes a little. Yujin liked her hair short, but these days she hadn’t had the time to have it cut, it grew to her shoulders. Moving a hand up to adjust, pushing off the weight of sleep, took considerable effort. She eyed the TV, but couldn’t make out much. Muffled sounds meshed together in a lullaby, frames blended in impressions of waves, the rhythm of Wony’s breath and the beating of Wony’s heart swayed her as the tides.

With the way things had been at Wony’s work, Yujin knew better than to ask about her day. She was somebody who knew what she wanted, so if she said she just wanted to snuggle and fall asleep to the TV, that’s what Yujin would give her.

It killed her to see Wonyoung this tired. Yujin’s mind had run in circles all day, and even now it jumped from the food which was getting cold, to the bugs coming in from the open window, to how she should clean the floor later… but she knew none of these things mattered. Meaningless gestures to distract from what really troubled her: Wony’s life wasn’t perfect, she couldn’t make it perfect, and it wasn’t fair.

Wony was radiant, blinding, the light from which all else emanated. Yujin couldn’t find the words to express her adoration. It twisted her throat into knots, filled her mind with useless concerns, filled her mouth with stupid irony. When they were younger, first falling for each other, Yujin was nervous, a giddy mess of jumbled feelings, but she somehow felt more at ease expressing herself. Now that they had set into domestic life, that habit gripped them in its jaws, she often felt that her words had dried.

Not a moment passed when she didn’t have something on her chest. She wanted to tell her all she felt, give her everything she had. She wanted to change it all, make this broken world right, make it so Wonyoung never had to work another day in her life, so she’d live life as a princess in a soft, cotton-candy cloud far above it all, away from any sorrows or worries.

And in that moment, Wonyoung twitched a little. She was falling asleep, deep amid the pile of soft pink pillows. She did not seem worried in the slightest.

Before long the arms that squeezed Yujin tight relaxed, the hand waving through her hair came to a stop. She felt the sway of Wonyoung’s breath slow further, her chest rising and falling at a measured pace. Yujin blinked lazily to focus her clouded gaze, chancing a glimpse up towards Wony’s face, and saw it still, doll-like, eyes peacefully shut and lips just a little parted, lit by fairy lights and the flickering ghosts of the TV screen.

Wony was ok. And Yujin was ok, because she was in Wony’s arms.

After chasing her tail all day, Yujin felt the exhaustion truly creep in.

She settled her arms around Wony’s stomach in a way that wouldn’t trouble her love’s breathing, and allowed sleep to take her over.

A faint, compressed gun shot rang out from the low-quality speakers, just loud enough to rouse Yujin. Instantly she noticed something missing. Her body was submerged in pillows, but the comforting arms that held her were gone.

Sleep covered her eyes, her vision was a few large orange blots of light and the vague, blinding rectangle of whatever drama was on TV.

“This is really nice,” Wonyoung’s voice was inviting, accompanied by a slow harmony of metal cutlery on porcelain, somewhere off to her left.

Of course, looking there showed only an array of strange halos, scintillating stars that, really, probably didn’t amount to more than fairy lights hung onto the curtains. A slender shadow amid the dazzling glow sat looking back at her.

“It would be nicer if we’d eaten it warm,” Yujin’s irony woke up before she did.

“You feel asleep too!” she didn’t need to see Wony clearly to sense the laugh in her voice, “you were snoring, did you know that? You snored really loud just now, it’s probably what woke you up.”

“I woke up because you left the TV on too loud!”

“Well then turn it off and go back to sleep!”

Yujin stretched before palming around the pillows, finding the remote and turning off the TV, suddenly noticing she didn’t want to go back to sleep. She looked back at Wonyoung, still blinking mist from her eyes, as if to ask if she really had to.

“I was joking, come eat.”

She went.

Yujin didn’t know why Wonyoung’s words had this effect on her. It was Pavlovian. Her reflex was to please.

Wony’s glass was empty so Yujin filled it again.

“Is the wine good? I was a little worried it wouldn’t pair well with the fish.”

Wonyoung looked at her and smiled,

“You’re so cute,” she picked up the glass and swirled it absentmindedly, “the wine is wonderful.”

Heat creeped to Yujin’s cheeks. She sat, averted her eyes, still hazy from sleep, and began stuffing her mouth with food.

“So my day was awful, but how was yours?” Wonyoung asked, reaching out across the table and stroking Yujin’s wrist.

“I, uh…” frankly, she was drawing a blank. All memories from the previous hours were of worrying about Wonyoung. She knew she’d been neglecting her own things to care for Wony. She couldn’t just admit that, though, “I sure cleaned the house a lot for your ass.”

Wind passed through Wony’s nose faster than usual, in what could, generously, be called a laugh. A laugh, however, which clearly held less patience than it did even a few minutes ago. Sometimes Wonyoung seemed as frustrated with Yujin as Yujin was with herself.

Still, if they weren’t done teasing, Wonyoung would make the most of it.

“Oh yeah? What a good little girl…”

Yujin’s face was on fire.

“Stop calling me that, I am literally older than you.”

Wony leaned forward to rest her cheek on one hand, eyes locked to Yujin’s.

“You know, you’ve been such a good girl today, I’m thinking I might even indulge your weird foot thing.”

“I do not have a foot thi-!” Yujin felt a sock crawl playfully up her calf, coming to a stop between her thighs.

A giggle lost itself between Wonyoung’s lips,

“I’m not judging!” Satisfied with Yujin’s discomfort, she changed the subject, “anyway, you were saying about your day?”

Wonyoung pushed her heel slowly into her. Yujin made a fist, held her knuckles to her mouth, chanced a glimpse up at Wony through her bangs. She couldn’t meet her smiling face for long, her eyes closed before gluing themselves to her plate again.

She scrambled for words to say. Of course she could speak like normal, this wasn’t distracting. She didn’t even know where Wony got the idea she liked foot stuff. She began a story about someone from work who ate at their desk yesterday and so today they had ants inside their laptop or whatever.

Wonyoung pushed firmly against her. Yujin pushed her hips back against her foot. Shit. Maybe Wony didn’t notice her sudden eagerness, maybe she still had plausible deniability. Wony noticed,

“Oh you love this,” she laughed, rocking her slender leg into Yujin at a quick rhythm, “gross baby.”

“Stop…” Yujin angled herself so Wony would be pressing at the right spot.

“Do you want me to stop?” She leaned further, chin resting on both hands, her voice affecting the tone of someone being nice, “I’ll stop if you want.”

Yujin still wore work pants, but the pressure was having its effect, even through the fabric and the shame. Maybe because of them.

“Mm… mm-mmm…” she shook her head no.

She was warm. Not just her cheeks, though those burned with the fires of Hell. All of her. She was a gradient from the heat building in her core to the shame blazing across her face. The fairy lights shone on Wonyoung’s pale skin, a spotlight beaming straight at her,

“Say it with your words, baby.”

A weak moan broke through Yujin’s lips. She wasn’t even entirely sure why. Maybe Wonyoung’s taunts, maybe the fabric rubbing against her skin, beginning to make her sensitive, beginning to hurt. Maybe the confusion itself, the sleepy, shameful heat. Wony knew how to play her, make her confused, and she loved doing it. Wony loved to cause an impression.

“You don’t have… to stop…”

“Stop what?”

Yujin looked back up, a little dumbfounded. What did she want from her now?

“‘Please don’t stop fucking me with your foot, miss Wonyoung. I love this,’” she tilted her head to the side, a cat playing with its food. “Say it.”

Her obedient reflex finally found resistance. Yujin looked mortified. She had a hard time talking about her day, let alone whatever this was.

“Ah,” Wonyoung sighed, performing great impatience, crossing her arms, “I knew you wouldn’t say it,” she pulled her foot from Yujin’s thighs. There was peace under the table.

Sometimes – and for reasons Yujin found easy to ascertain after the fact, but nearly impossible to predict – Wonyoung would simply turn a key. The playful tone that lately permeated their every conversation would feel heavy, trite compared to what they could be saying, those words they both knew were stuck in Yujin’s throat. And so, to entertain themselves, Wonyoung would stop playing, and begin toying with her. Yujin was hers for the night.

“…why are you like this?” Yujin smiled, finally allowing herself to lift her eyes, half shaded by her bangs, and meet Wonyoung’s again.

“You know, I actually bought you something too,” she crossed her legs, and pointed theatrically across the apartment to the kitchen counter, deep into the recesses where the fairy lights could barely light the orange walls. “Go get it from my purse.”

Before Yujin knew it she was in the kitchen, half engulfed by darkness, fumbling through Wony’s purse. It didn’t take long to find what she needed. She pulled out the strange object, squinting to identify it in the dim light. It resembled a thin but sturdy choker, except for a large, black, plastic cube poking from one side.

“Come,” Wony waved, struggling to hide a smile.

“You’re evil,” Yujin went.

“And you’re cute.” Wonyoung pulled Yujin’s chair with two fingers so it faced the window, “sit.”

She sat.

Her heart thumped.

Wonyoung leaned in behind her, held her neck soft with one hand, moved her hair aside with the other, breathed into her shoulder. The warmth of her engulfed Yujin, scarce, stuffy perfume from yesterday intoxicating.

She tried to adjust her posture, arch her back just a little, act like she was comfortable, fully awake and present of body and mind. Like her sleep-deprived eyes weren’t blending the little fairy lights in front of her with the city lights beyond. Like Wonyoung’s fingers didn’t feel like feather pillows, tracing their way from behind her neck around the collar of her shirt, like she didn’t feel herself sinking into them just a little.

She wasn’t fooling anyone. Wonyoung knew she couldn’t think straight. That’s how she wanted her.

“You’ve been thinking too much these days, baby girl.” Oh my God I am older than you, Yujin still considered saying. “And saying too much nonsense.” She was glad not to have said anything. “Why don’t we shut you up for the night, and help you relax a little?”

Now that threw her for a loop. Wony seemed tired these days, that was evident. But did Yujin look like she needed a break too…?

Wonyoung’s breath hitched against the back of Yujin’s neck as she reached to take the collar from her hands. Wony might have been perfect, but even her poker face could slip sometimes. For a second her breathing skipped, it lacked the regal, gracious rhythm she usually projected, for just a second she exhaled too heavy and too fast, betrayed the excitement she felt having Yujin in her hands.

She snaked the collar underneath Yujin’s hair, shoulder length and airy, it moved with Wony’s fingers, reeds on a warm breeze. It tickled, Yujin shivered. She felt the collar clasp behind her, her breathing restrict just a little in its tight hold, and in a second the apprehension hit. How strong would the shock be? She’d find out soon, she guessed. The next time she made a noise. Did Wony even test this?

For what it was worth, Wony didn’t seem concerned. Petting her hair before circling around Yujin, a satisfied “ah” left her lips. An expression like she had something to share, she half turned to one side, to the other, looking for the handle on the window. She slid it half way closed, just enough for Yujin to see herself, reflection vivid against the backdrop of the dark city, framed by the tiny orange lights. She hadn’t seen clearly in what felt like hours, from sleep, from shame, apprehension. Nothing that night felt real, Wonyoung had created a dream for her. But there in front of her, her reflection was crystal clear.

Yujin looked beautiful. She would never have guessed it, the way her work shirt still clung to her with yesterday’s effort, the way her thoughts drifted directionless through the fog of sleep. But she did, she looked beautiful. Her hair, some locks stuck under the choker, bubbled in a messy volume, made her collar bones, her half visible shoulders under the crumpled shirt, glow against the night. Framed her face to accentuate the giddy loyalty she felt with Wony next to her. That Wony brought out of her.

For a moment she couldn’t tell the gleam in her eyes from the stars beyond the window. She looked to her love, golden in the half-light, convinced that the Sun herself was beside her.

“You’re so pretty,” Wony complained, eyes burning into Yujin,

“Ah-” bzzt. Dozens of pins pricked the side of her neck.

A triumphant smile spread through Wony’s face. She had made Yujin forget about the collar entirely.

“Great, it works,” still smiling, she brushed Yujin’s hair into place, delicate, “is it too strong, baby?”

Yujin gave it some thought. The shock had been a little too strong, she did feel a lot of pain, but it made Wony smile, and so she could endure a million shocks just like it. She shook her head “no.”

Wonyoung’s eyes pierced hers,

“Say it.”

Wony’s smile spread to Yujin. She pursed her lips, then, resigned, enounced,

“It’s not-” bzzt.

Seeing Yujin jump, Wonyoung’s smile widened. She moved her legs, tossed her long hair over one shoulder, straddled Yujin’s lap, sent her arms loose over Yujin’s shoulders and the back of the chair, an angel descending upon Yujin.

Yujin held her slim frame, one hand resting on her stomach, another exploring her shoulder blades, pulling her close. She caught a scent, one more personal than the flowered perfume hanging low from Wony’s neck, one just a little savory, sneaking into her with a kiss. The soft lips she loved so much embraced her senses, pulling her deeper into a dream.

Her love was weightless over her, a warm cloud, a rising air current to make her soar. Wonyoung’s kisses moved along her jaw, her head fell further to the side, allowing passage. She felt her hair be brushed back, a soft teasing bite on her ear lobe. She shuddered into Wonyoung’s shoulder, heat building up in her again. Wony’s hair brushed her cheek as she kissed her way down her neck.

Yujin opened her eyes to see herself, pretty reflection bright against the city night, eclipsed by the flowing white blouse and the flowing black hair of the girl she loved, falling over her. Just then, Wony opened the first button of her shirt, pulling it aside to expose her shoulder, before biting down. Yujin moaned, loud.

Bzzt.

Needles traipsed around her neck. She jumped again. The sudden pain brought a spasm from her, sent her arm twitching, her hand made to wrap around Wony’s fore arm. A smile formed on Wonyoung’s face again, Yujin could feel it buried on her shoulder. Wony loved making her feel like this, confused and hazy under her, incapable of thinking straight even for self-preservation, a lucid dream Wony could turn from joyous to apprehensive to painful and back again at will.

She lifted her head, looked down at Yujin. Her smile settled into a smirk, knowing, like she had just divined a way to extend Yujin’s bliss. Tossing her hair over her shoulders, Wony stretched to reach aside, to the table next to them, and when her hand came back into Yujin’s view, it carried with it the rosé. She took a long, comfortable swig, stopping to move the wine around in her mouth a little, breathe in the after taste,

“You should try the wine, baby.”

One hand moving behind Yujin’s neck, she positioned the bottle to pour into her mouth. The wine came slow. It was nice, clearly not the most expensive, not the most complex taste or whatever, but for their standards it was nice. Yujin swallowed, a little rushed as Wony didn’t stop pouring. In fact she seemed to be pouring faster.

Wonyoung’s eyes became sharper, her smile more intent, the more uncomfortable Yujin became. Wine invaded her, she didn’t want to move her head and make a mess – really she didn’t want to deny Wony whatever she wanted with this – but it was becoming harder and harder to gulp down what she was given.

It filled her mouth, her throat already felt a little restricted from the choker, she swallowed, and swallowed, until her muscles sent a spout from the corner of her lips. She shut her eyes, shaking her head reflexively though never daring take her mouth from the bottle, and a loud whimper left her. Bzzt.

The pain contracted her throat, sent spurts of wine down her chin. Wonyoung laughed. She might have hated wasting booze, but this wasn’t wasting, she seemed very entertained. She pulled the bottle from Yujin’s mouth and took it back to her own. Yujin’s throat burned, some wine had gone down the wrong hole and she had to fight the urge to cough loudly. She felt her chin drip, liquid begin to soak her chest,

“My shir-!” Bzzt.

“That shirt was thrifted baby, it’s not the end of the world.”

I might have to buy a new one next week for work, the worry crossed her mind, before she distracted herself with an attempt to cough quietly enough that it wouldn’t trigger the collar, before her eyes lost themselves again on Wony. If she wanted Yujin to stop worrying, it was working. In her confusion, she could focus on nothing else but her.

Wony stretched to put the bottle back on the table before leaning over Yujin, half-open eyes possessive.

“My messy little girl,” Yujin’s cheeks were red for so many different reasons at this point, hearing her say that barely made a difference. She climbed off Yujin, “wait here, I’ll get something to help you clean up.”

Sounds of drawers and kitchen utensils echoed for longer than expected. Bzzt, Yujin’s neck contracted in pain despite not having said anything. She turned to look at Wony,

“Ow-!” bzzt again.

“Hey, it works!” Wonyoung beamed from behind her, pocketing a little remote. She ran a hand through Yujin’s hair, looking down in greed. She pulled slowly on Yujin’s hair, leaning her head back, pulling a handkerchief to wipe carefully at her chin. Yujin reached with one hand, grasping blind at her love’s thigh, eager to pull her closer. Wony acquiesced, grinning, coming closer to tower over Yujin, pulling her hair further back, so she’d see it fully as she reached an arm behind herself, and grabbed a chain she carried over her shoulders.

Wony leaned in to kiss her again, the side angle a little awkward, her hands wrapping soft around Yujin’s neck, a touch of the chain cold against her skin. The metal ran down her chest, crawled over her as Wony moved to attach it to her collar.

She broke the kiss a little too soon, leaned back, one hand cupping Yujin’s cheek, the other wrapping itself in other end of the chain,

“Well… this is great, but I actually want to finish my dinner.”

Um…

“Wony what the fu-” bzzt.

Wony what the fuck are you talking about, she thought, with her inside voice.

Wonyoung pulled away, walked around her toward the table, lips twisted into a smile, chain growing taut between them. She stopped, brought a finger to her lips, affecting like she was really considering what to do next, then pulled strong on the chain.

The tug on Yujin’s neck – the alcohol might have begun to set in – sent her off balance, tumbling. The little lights next to her darted fast past her vision. The floor welcomed her with open arms. Before even fully regaining her senses, her eyes followed, incredulous, the chain up to where Wonyoung stood, a satisfied smirk on her face,

“Come on, girl,” she said, tone half baby talk, “let’s eat.”

Something told Yujin she wasn’t supposed to get up again. Wony continued pulling on the leash, walking carefree to her seat at the table, it was all Yujin could do to follow on all fours.

Wony sat, legs crossed, Yujin knelt. She looked up, expectant, eyes big under her bangs, afraid of what her love had in mind. Wonyoung ate a piece of salmon, some noodles, absentminded, like she’d forgotten Yujin was there.

“Oh, why don’t you entertain yourself while we’re here?” Wony, suppressing a smirk, pushed one foot forward, as if offering it to Yujin.

Frustrated, she blinked, eyeing Wony through messy bangs, furrowed brow and pursed lips. The heat in her cheeks grew insufferable again.

“Come on,” Wonyoung mocked, pulling Yujin by the chain, bending her closer, “don’t be shy.”

Yujin sighed, thankfully too quiet to trigger the collar, laughing a little to the side so Wony wouldn’t see. The window next to them was harder to see through the lights, but the glimpse she caught was beautiful. Wonyoung, long flowing hair, pretty with her posture perfect, enjoying dinner and a nice wine, her in disheveled formal wear, bent before her in chains. This was fine.

She leaned forward, Wonyoung’s foot bobbing close to her, black sock worn with its seam a little off-center. Reaching under her sole and around her ankle for support, she leaned forward and kissed it. Wonyoung chuckled above the table, she did too. She leaned again, kissed down the bridge of her foot,

She was serious. She actually didn’t like feet – she did not! – there was just something comforting about this. Embarrassing herself in front of Wony, expressing her adoration in such a direct, if gross, way.

And adore she did, compelled, by whatever force, to pull off Wony’s sock. She heard more quiet giggling from above the table, Wony crossed her legs in the opposite direction, allowed her to pull off the other. Her feet were long, slim, her skin soft and pristine save for a vein visible when she moved, bones gentle around her slender ankles. They were pretty, she concluded – like how she would comment on a friend���s hair style, not like she would say if she was into feet, which she was not.

When Wony lowered her eyes again, Yujin was deep into a kiss, lost in the skin between two knuckles.

“Here, get the bottom, too,” she flexed her ankle, mocking, pushing her sole to Yujin, before tugging on the leash. It was all Yujin could do to keep herself from smashing face first. She wanted to pull away, take a moment to even process Wony’s words, but her neck was pulled back into place. It was alright, her soles were pretty as well.

She leaned in to kiss her heel, her arches. Her hands held up Wony’s ankle like a relic, a work of art she wouldn’t dare damage by letting go, she wouldn’t dishonor in that way. Her skin was so soft, Yujin had always wondered how Wony kept her skin, her hair, her figure, despite her hectic work hours, and, she couldn’t deny, she loved being able to enjoy it, even if it made her cheeks burn with shame sometimes.

Her kisses climbed to Wony’s toes, before her love began to pull her foot away. It rested on Yujin’s shoulder, and began to push her down. She looked up at Wonyoung, smiling down entertained as ever. Yujin had no mind to resist, wouldn’t know how to anymore, she was gone. Her body leaned forward, as if pulled by gravity, Wonyoung’s gravity. The burn in her cheeks felt nicer now. The wine must have been getting to her.

Wonyoung stepped on Yujin’s chain, pulled her down until her head was level with the ground. Yujin, fully bowed, hair falling around her and spreading on the floor, cared less about her embarrassment by the second. When it rained… Kissing one foot, the other moved to pin her head in place, her whole world was down there, the task at hand engulfed her. Wony wanted her degraded, so that’s what she would be.

Her kissing grew louder, more focused. A moan left her, met promptly by a bzzt. From above, Wony sat back, the melody of her cutlery changed tempo, slowing as if satisfied with Yujin’s eagerness. She took her time to enjoy the humiliation she’d brought out of Yujin, before moving to bring out the next,

“Hey puppy, you must be hungry,” she disentangled Yujin from her legs, leaned over holding her plate, dumped some noodles and some salmon on the ground, scraps thrown under the table.

Yujin looked up, looked at the food. She was well past shame at this point, the desire to please was the first thing on her mind. She lowered her head to the food, took it in, getting sauce on her nose, fish grease on her chin, surely draping her hair on something horrible down there. Whatever. Wony would probably find it funnier if she was messy anyway. The salmon was nice, they really should’ve eaten it warm though.

Bzzt, Yujin jumped, a bit of fish still left on the floor. Wony had the little remote in her hand, and a mocking smile on her face.

“You’re so gross,” Wony laughed lovingly. She patted her own lap, “sit, let’s wash that down.”

She began pouring another glass as Yujin got up, knees sore from being on the ground too long. Standing again felt wrong, like she’d lost the right to be a biped after the previous minutes. Thankfully, Wonyoung, sitting wide and relaxed, offered a leg for her to straddle, a safe haven to keep herself degraded.

One leg on either side of Wonyoung’s thigh, she lowered herself, her movements nearly escaping her, all just a little too long, eyes just a little too heavy. She let her head fall on Wony’s shoulder, one hand holding the other shoulder, a quiet, tired moan running through her.

“You good, baby?”

“Yeah-” bzzt. Wonyoung laughed.

Feeling Yujin’s shirt, still wet from wine, cling onto her, Wony stopped pouring the second glass, pushed her back just a little and began undoing her buttons. Her moves were utilitarian, like it had to be done and Yujin was incapable of doing it herself. Be it some leftover claim to human dignity still in her, feeling patronized by Wony’s tone, be it simple dumb desire from a dumb baby who couldn’t think straight, Yujin just had to interject.

A dimply smirk forming, she reached out her hands to cup Wonyoung’s face – so small, so pretty – and fell, dazzled, into a kiss. Her movements were, by then, noticeably sloppy. Their faces slammed together, Wony smiled, Yujin giggled, a bzzt made her jump, they smiled more.

Wonyoung allowed herself to be pulled closer. Her fingers changed pace on Yujin’s buttons, dancing with revived hunger. When Yujin’s shirt fell open, she tugged on its collar, grasping her in their kiss. Even despite the sorry state of Yujin’s mind, it was clear that behind Wony’s formality, she too wanted more with every moment. She wanted Yujin deeper and deeper under her spell.

Led by bewitched strings, Yujin’s muscles flowed heavy. Her head fell back, hair tickling shoulders as Wonyoung slipped the shirt from her arms. She felt herself move back, her whole body pushing down against the thigh she sat on. As Wony pulled her in, her hips rolled closer, then rolled away, closer, away again. Her weight drove her into a lazy rhythm.

Hands wandered her shoulders, her waist, the small of her back. Cold flowed from the half-open window and harassed her skin, a refreshing contrast to the all-encompassing warmth she’d been feeling all night. She huddled closer to Wony, riding her core higher against her thigh, lost her hands amid the folds of her clothes, hid kisses into her neck and her hair and scent.

Wonyoung held Yujin’s waist with one hand, reached past her with the other to finish pouring those glasses. She brought Yujin’s body back, brought a glass to her lips, before Yujin’s fingers wrapped around it and chugged down the wine, no mind to savor what she tasted. She wanted more of what Wony gave her, more of Wony, more of her magic.

She half-flopped backwards to leave the glass on the table, movements as careful as she could muster, before falling back into Wonyoung. Kissing her cheek, her jaw, her pretty pouty lips, waves crashing faster upon her with drunken euphoria, humping her leg like a bitch in heat.

“I lov-” bzzt. She jumped, but the pain didn’t feel bad anymore. The jolt was a discordant tone complementing the harmony Wonyoung crafted. “-e you,” bzzt.

Wony chuckled, drank a little of her own wine, pulled her back into a kiss,

“Get up,” she did, slow and awkward, hands still resting on Wony’s shoulders. Her love’s eyes burned, keeping her warm through the cold breeze. Wony reached behind her, unclasped her bra, kissed her stomach, her ribs, her chest. Yujin felt herself shake, maybe from cold, maybe from giddiness. She couldn’t stay still, she missed the thigh between her legs, she felt her hands move down by themselves. Wony caught the movement and pulled on Yujin’s pants, “off.”

Yujin moved with the finesse of a dying fish, fingers fumbling around the button until it opened, tugging it down blindly. Hands held hers, Wony looked up into her eyes, amused with her state,

“Slow.”

She did what she could, sluggish movements charged with all the energy of the Sun, hands vibrating in nervous joy, a phantom tail wagging wildly.

With much difficulty, she shrugged off the rest of her clothes. Standing there, in Wonyoung’s hands, lips pulling light on her nipples, barely able to muster a coherent thought, night breeze cutting through her, she felt exposed, she could almost feel embarrassed again. She did not. It didn’t matter, she was not herself anymore, she was simply Wonyoung’s.

She was guided back down. Before she saw them, she felt Wony’s fingers, held up from her thigh,

“Fuck yourself on me,” Wonyoung whispered as Yujin eased down, shaking, over her. She didn’t have to ask twice – not that she ever did. Yujin gasped as Wonyoung entered her, body welcoming her, rhythm building again.

Wony leaned back, reached with her other hand to take another sip of wine, let her lips twist slightly with that perfectly crafted, immaculate arrogance, at the girl falling apart on her.

Grabbing at her blouse, Yujin let her head fall again. She couldn’t bear it. She wanted more. More of Wonyoung’s long fingers in her, more of her scent, more of the exposure, more of the state she left her in, she wanted to throw herself to Wonyoung, live and breathe for her,

“More-” bzzt. She wanted more of the pain, too, “more-” bzzt. “Pleas-” bzzt.

Another chuckle bringing out a fruity after taste in Wony’s mouth, she finished her wine. She reached behind the back of Yujin’s neck, fingers intertwining with the base of her hair. Leaning in, she worked a third finger into her.

Yujin whimpered into her mouth. She was pulled closer by the hair. The taste of wine swallowed her whole. When she couldn’t pull away anymore – when she didn’t have it in her to break their kiss – Wonyoung released her hair. Her hand crawled slow down Yujin’s skin, tracing her neck, her ribs, her waist, her thigh, leading Yujin’s pace while she clutched disoriented at Wony’s blouse.

She held on for dear life. Her mouth was lost in Wony’s. At times her tongue poked shyly inside, but her attention was elsewhere. It flowed blurry, drunk on the scent, always slurring back down her body. Wony used one hand to lead her, grinding, into the other’s fingers. Yujin’s pace was desperate now. She felt her leg twitch, her sides. She arched her back into Wony just a little, the twitch climbed all the way to her shoulders. Their kiss was interrupted by a whimper. It was all so much… Another whimper, then another, then more. Wonyoung smiled against her, curled her fingers in her,

“My good girl…” her face was so close, so pretty, her tone so encouraging, “let go for me.”

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzt… Yujin jumped, grasped at Wonyoung’s shoulders, shook her head like that would shake the pins and needles from her neck. Wony pulled her back down, fist wrapped around the little remote. Her fingers pushed deep in her. Wony wanted her to cum in pain, and so the pain felt sweet.

Yujin lost herself. She hugged Wony close, felt her shoulders, her delicate skin, bones, hair, clawed at them for a second, before she stopped herself, she didn’t want to hurt her. She just held her while enjoying her own pain buzzing down her back, her own pleasure crashing from her core.

For a second, her mind was completely empty. No words, no worries, just the feeling of pain and relief and the smell of Wony. The feeling of a job well done – Wony wanted her to be a good girl, and she was. The feeling of being well taken care of.

When Wony let go of the remote, Yujin was light headed, barely able to keep her rhythm. She slowed, grinding still, she wanted to keep this forever. Wonyoung ran a hand through her hair, petting her slowly, scratching behind the ear.

Wony left the remote on the counter, jumping onto bed where Yujin lay exhausted. She went to unlock the clasp on Yujin’s collar, before stopping herself,

“Hmm… one last thing…” a final flash of malice crossed her face, “thank me.”

Yujin looked up, big smiling puppy dog eyes meeting hers, dimples forming deep,

“Tha-” bzzt. “-ank-” bzzt. “-yo-” bzzt. “-u,” bzzt. She could’ve said it in maybe two shocks, but she really had started to like them by now. Her head fell back on the stack of pillows, her brain really was fried.

Wony pursed her lips into a smile,

“Cutie,” she unclasped the collar, and threw it overboard off the bed. Their ship now held just Wony, her pet and their plushies.

“You don’t… want me to…?” Yujin brushed a hand on Wony’s hips.

“Later baby, after you brush your teeth.”

“Ah shit, I must have ruined your pants…” she noticed the spot where she’d sat on Wony’s thigh, still humid.

“Language!” Wony bonked her light on the head, before slipping off her pants and throwing them toward the stars. She jumped into the plush pile, “so anyway, how was your day?”

Wony, long legs bare, pulling the covers to nuzzle against her, threatened to freeze the words in her throat all over again, but she pushed past it. They were past it.

“Honestly, Wony, I don’t know what to say. All I’ve thought about these days was whether you were alright… sometimes you seem so beaten down…” she brushed her bangs from her face, before reaching under the covers to join her hands. “You’re too good to be having these problems, to be this stressed.”

“We’re too good,” she hit Yujin on the shoulder, “but we can handle it.”

It was true. With Wony, she could handle anything.

“If I could tell you how much I love you…”

“You don’t need to,” Wony touched Yujin’s head with hers, “I see it everyday.”

They lay there, enjoying soft pillows and soft covers and their soft love.

“My good girl.”

“No, really, why do you like saying that? I am literally older than you.”

“Because you like to hear it…” Wony opened her eyes quick to plant a kiss on Yujin’s forehead, “dumb ass.”

They fell asleep, aboard their soft ship, cruising through the fairies and the city and the stars.

[starsandsugars]

You roll like thunder

PAIRING: shiv roy x reader

SUMMARY: after the gala ends, shiv needs somewhere to let our her frustration. she knows just who to call to get her sense of control back. (NSFW - 18+)

TAGS: friends to lovers, friends with benefits, dom/sub undertones, degradation + praise

Notes: I want shiv to be mean to me <3 enjoy and please send in requests!

-

Shiv Roy walked into your life like a storm rolling through in the middle of a drought. She was dangerous and every breath felt like a promise that she was going to come through your life and change everything.

She knew it too, she must. No woman walks with that level of confidence or speaks with that level of ease if she doesn't know just how powerful she is.

That's what everything is about for Shiv- power.

Maybe that's why you let her come over when she calls you in the middle of the night after the stupid Waystar Gala.

She always goes to these events and comes crawling to you once they rattle her sense of control. She gets around her family for too long and they always find a way to take that spark away from her, stomping it out with a fierceness that manages to shock you no matter how many times it happens.

It's been true since you met Shiv her first year as a political consultant on the hill. You were working in a nonprofit nearby at the time, and your paths crossed on many occasions. At first you just nodded politely at each other but as the years went by and you both climbed the ranks you became more friendly to each other.

You met for lunch to discuss business and eventually that morphed into talking about your personal lives. You knew she was dating a man named Tom who she loved, but worried wanted her to settle down to quickly. You told her about your then recent breakup with your ex girlfriend that caused you to have to move all your stuff into a new apartment.

That somehow turned into you showing her your apartment. During your tour one of you seems to have let your resolve slip because before you know if her hands around your throat and your neighbors are banging against the wall for you two to shut up causing you both to dissolve in breathless laughter.

You agreed it was a one time thing.. then a two time thing, then a three time thing until you both stopped deluding yourself by trying to label it.

Shiv was your friend and you had sex from time to time when she wanted to blow off steam without scaring away her boyfriend. It was perfectly normal and for that point in your life it was good. You were too busy for attachments and even your best solo efforts don't come close to make you feel as good at Shiv does.

As long as you didn't think about the fact that she was technically cheating or that you were maybe definitely beginning to get real feelings for her it was perfect.

When you moved to New York for work it stopped being an after work drink and a hookup and turned into butterfly inducing texts telling you she wanted to come over while she was in town.

You knew it was wrong but you opened the door with a smile and your best underwear on every time anyway.

When she moved to New York it stayed relatively the same. You thought they would get more frequent but it seemed being a newlywed kept her more occupied than you had imagined. You can pretend it doesn't bother you as long as you don't look at the ring.

But no matter how busy she seemed to be with work or her husband or whatever new trainwreck her family had caused- she always came crawling back in times like these.

Maybe crawling is the wrong word. Prowling seems like a better descriptor.

She shows up at your door with that cocky grin, usually toting some little gift or a bottle of wine. She walks in, acting entirely innocent as she tells you to get glasses or meet her in your living room. From the moment she enters it's about making sure you both know she's in charge.

Tonight when you open the door, your eyes widen. You knew it was a gala but you hadn't been prepared for just how good Shiv would look in the gown. It hugs her curves just right, her updo bringing out the shape of her face and the glimmer in her eyes. Your voice catches in her throat as she walks past you effortlessly.

"It's late." You comment, trying to pretend like you wouldn't let her come over at any time for any reason. It's bullshit and you both know it, but she humors you anyway.

"And yet you let me in." She says, grinning at you as she slides her eyes over your pajama clad figure. You felt a little underdressed even though you knew that was silly. She has a way of doing that, of entering a room and setting the new norm.

"What, did you have plans?" Her voice lilts as she talks, almost like she's mocking you. "Don't tell me I'm interrupting a very important booty call."

She walks into your living room, leaving you no choice but to follow her as she settles comfortably on your couch. She crosses her legs as you sit across from her.

You raise an eyebrow at her, not surprised anymore by this kind of game and instead all too happy to play back.

"Why, are you jealous?."

She laughs at that, seemingly delighted by your testing her.

"Jealous?" She repeats, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees. "Please. Can you even cum without me there to help you?"

She's trying to rile you up, reminding you of the time you confessed your then boyfriend couldn't make you cum and neither could your vibrator. She had taken all too much pride in that and you're pretty sure you climaxed five different times that night.

You just shake your head at her affectionately. She's trying to get a rise out of you and you enjoy making her work for it.

"I take it the gala went well then?" You say after a moment hoping she will admit her reasons for coming over.

You stand and approach your bar cart in the corner of the room. As you pour each of you a glass of red wine she sighs.

"They're idiots, all of them." She grumbled, watching you as you approached her once more. She looked at you with that expression that told you she was getting impatient, her fingers tracing over her lips in a clear effort to rile you up.

It works, and your stomach clenched at the sight.

You sat beside her, handing her the glass of wine which she takes with a smile.

"Thanks, sweetheart." She says, swirling it around before taking a sip. "You always know just what I need, huh?"

"I try." You respond, leaning in until your thighs are touching. "I like to make you feel good."

She raises a hand to gently card through your hair, brushing the hair back away from your face from a moment. She seems to be almost admiring you, and she leans forward to press a kiss to your cheek.

When she pulls back her grip in your hair tightens minutely.

"How about you get on your knees for me then, pretty girl?" She releases you and leans back against the couch, legs spreading wider.

Your heart speeds up in your chest as you nod, placing your glass on the table before sinking to your knees in front of her.

You slide your hands up under her dress, resting on her thighs as you look obediently up at her. She looks like a goddess from this angle, already beautiful face shining with a kind of power that made your stomach turn.

You knew the two of you were equals where it mattered but in the twilight hours when she spoke to you in that commandeering tone all you could think to do was obey.

"Good." She says, reaching down to pull the plush fabric of her dress up until it's resting around her hips. It's not lost on you that she's still got her high heels and gown on while you're sporting your pajamas. It's also not lost on you that she's wearing simple, lacy panties that match her dress.

"You wear these for me?" You tease as you slide your thumb under the waist band of them, watching the way the touch makes her flush just slightly.

"No. But you're going to take them off anyway." She says, taking a sip of her wine as she watches you easily.

You comply immediately, tugging them down her legs and draping them on the rug before running your hands back up her legs.

You begin to press kisses up the sensitive skin on the inside of her leg, feeling her shudder as you finally reach where she wants you. She wastes no time, putting her hand in your hair once more and pressing your forward.

You don't hesitate to give in, greedily licking at her clit until you feel the slight quiver in her legs. That's your queue to double down, urging her closer to that sweet spot. You move your fingers up, teasing along her folds until you can press one of your fingers in just as you flatten your tongue against her sensitive button.

She groans at that, the noise sounding like a siren song to your ears.

"Yes, just like that." She purrs, twisting her hand further in your hair while her other hand moves to pull your shirt down so your breasts are exposed.

You continue your ministrations, speeding up your tongue as you add another finger. You speed up and it begins to pull those high pitched noises from her as expletives stream from her mouth.

"Right there. Don't stop." She says, hips beginning to react in time with your movements.

When she cums it's like your world stops rotating. The sounds she only makes when she's truly vulnerable like this, the whimpers and moans and the way your name rolls off her tongue like a prayer- that's what you live for. You help her ride through it, feeling the same pride you always do at having made her feel good.

Once she's satisfied she pulls you away by your hair and just looks down at you. You can't do anything but look up at her with big eyes and a rapidly beating heart. She seems to find solace in whatever she sees in your expression.

"Come here." She says, pulling you up until you're straddling her lap. She takes your chin in her hands, turning your face side to side so she can see the way her slick glistens on your face. She hums, satisfied, and you get a little satisfaction from seeing she is still struggling to catch her breath.

"You look so pretty like this." She says, stroking her thumb over your lips and slowly pressing into your mouth as a show of dominance. "Bet you'll look even better when it's your turn to cum, huh?" She asks, free hand trailing down to grab at your ass. She pulls the fabric of your shorts down roughly, sliding her hand over your panties to tease you.

"Do you think you can handle that?" She prods.

"Yes." You respond immediately, much less concerned with your pride than you are getting rid of the desperation between your legs. "Yes, Shiv."

She grins at you, slipping her finger under the fabric to just barely brush at your clit.

"Beg for it then." She says, as dominant and demanding as always. You knew she wasn't going to make it easy, but you couldn't help but whimper anyway.

"Please. Please, I need you."

She seems satisfied with this, and pressing a finger into you. You moan immediately, starting to move your hips against her. She wastes no time in picking up the pace, adding another finger and fucking you quickly before you can even adjust.

Before you know it you're a shaking, whining mess on her lap. Her mouth moves from your neck to your nipples, giving you the attention you always crave from her. You know you're just a pawn in her life but when she touches you like this you feel like the center of her world. By the time she's worked you up to an orgasm, you feel like the center of the universe.

"You're so wet." She laughs against your skin. "Bet you've been dripping since I texted you. Even though it was the middle of the night bet you were practically shaking with how bad you wanted me. God, you act like you're so innocent but really you're the biggest slut I've ever met."

She says, dropping her other hand to circle your clit as she curls her fingers in you. She must feel you tighten or maybe she just sees the look on your face but she begins to try to talk you over the edge.

"Come on, cum. I know you can. I want you to, be good and do it for me." She urges and with a bite at your neck you do, spilling over the edge and into the hazy area where you feel like you can hardly steady yourself. You pant and shake as she finishes plastering kisses all over you, pulling down to look at you. She slips her fingers in your mouth so you can lick the cum off before pulling away and smiling at you.

"This was fun." She says, quickly downing the rest of her wine and standing up to readjust herself. You can hardly think straight but you stand on wobbly legs anyway, attempting to right you're close enough that you have some semblance of self respect.

"Leaving so soon?" You ask, even though you know this is her way. She gives you everything you could possibly want except even a sliver of real intimacy. She must see the disappointment in your eyes as she returns and runs her hands over her arms.

"You know I'm busy, dove." She says, using the pet name she only ever uses when she knows she's getting away with something. As if to distract her from this she presses a searing kiss to your lips before stepping back.

"I'll see you around, okay?" She said, and then as soon as she came she's gone with the door shutting solidly behind her.

You sigh as you sink back onto the couch, enjoying the feeling of warmth from where she was sitting. It's not her, but it's close enough.

Shiv Roy rolls like thunder. If you want to be with her, you have to accept that the storm leaves just as suddenly as it rolls in. It moves on from town to town while you're left trying to soak in what's left of the rain.

[heyidkyay]

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Four

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way? 

Authors Note: IT'S TAKEN A WHILE BUT IT'S HAPPENING, MATTY AND MOUSE ARE SO CLOSE. Hi:) Hope you enjoy this part, finally throwing them into the same building!! Lot's happening in this one!

Warnings: Mentions of rehab, struggles around body image

Masterlist

🐭 @/petitesouris 13m Early start, hoping it's a good session today!

The next week rolled around slowly and it had been one of the most agonising waits of my life. 

I’d constantly been emailing with the Primary Talent Team for the last few days, back and forth, just trying to work out which date and time would best fit both our schedules. It’d been gruelling. And the entire exchange would have gone a whole lot easier if it hadn't been for the fact that it had all been centred around them and based on their terms and conditions. Not forgetting the mile long list of Do’s and Don'ts they had also attached to their most recent email, which had been oh so fucking thrilling.

To be honest, I might not have minded it if my whole life had only revolved around the radio show. But as proud of it as I was, and as incredibly hard as both Adi and I constantly worked, I had other priorities that took precedence. I loved the show with all my heart but it could never be my entire life. Not with Teddy waiting for me back home at the end of each day, relying on me alone to raise and feed and clothe him.

Not that Healy’s management could comprehend that, or the fact that I had a schedule and a set routine. They didn't know when to stop and pushed and pushed to get what they wanted. And I could only fight back so much. Which meant that I’d ended up dropping Teddy off at Finn’s place a whole two hours earlier than usual just so that Adi and I could prep for the dated interview.

So, with that in mind, it was safe to say that I wasn't in the perkiest of moods when Adi bounded breathlessly into the studio that morning, a lot later than expected.

"I know, I know, I'm late!" Adi immediately squawked as she hurried on over, the door behind her slamming shut in her wake. "But I have good reason! I hardly slept last night, too excited for all of this!" She added as she threw her knitted tote bag down in its customary corner, the one I’d brought her the birthday last, and tossed her phone and throng of keys down with a clatter onto her paper-filled desk.

I rolled my eyes, but was unable to negotiate with the amused smile that pulled at the corners of my mouth. “Still had time to post a quick photo though. Don't think I didn't see it, Adeline- you tagged the show."

Adi’s smile was blinding when she spun around to meet me, brown eyes wild and full of mirth.

“Figured since you still haven't a clue about how Instagram works that you just wouldn't see it, my love!" She retorted whilst throwing herself down into my desk chair and kicking her Doc clad feet up onto the table. She shot me a smug smirk. 

“Cow. And oi, I’ll have you know I’ve caught on since Circa ‘18!” I defended, but relented upon seeing Adi’s arched brow. “Fine, I had Finn explain it all to me one night after a bottle of wine. But the point still stands.”

Adi’s raucous laughter bounced around the loft and I could only roll my eyes once more before huffing. 2018 had been a rough year for many, but mostly me, seeing as I’d accidentally posted a quick shot of me in the tub for the group chat to my story, exposing a little more than I’d like to our show’s following.

Adi stared back at me in disbelief, loosening the bun of unruly curls that had been strung together by a silk bandana, which also seemed to match the colour of the very short shorts she was wearing.

"He'd had to have been a saint in another life to have dealt with an indisposed you for that long."

I scoffed at that, but couldn't help my own trickle of laughter. “I sent Teddy round to his the next day with a box of chocolates- you know, those fancy ones he’s always banging on about?” Adi hummed her assent. “Felt proper bad about it all. Took him ages to teach me how to stop going Live.”

We both laughed.

“Waste of time that was, should’ve just brought the chocolates here! Knowing Finn, he only helped ‘cause he found the entire sodding thing hilarious.” Adi supplied, pulling a pack of chewing gum free from her jacket pocket.

Snorting faintly, I denied her offering of a piece with a wave of my hand, and went back to fidgeting with my phone, distracting myself again from my plume of thoughts. I spun the device round and round, slowly enough so that each edge made contact with the wooden desktop. 

“You alright there, babe?” Adi queried after a while, and I glanced over to see her eyes now trailing the movement. “Ted doing alright?” 

I stilled and then hummed, watching as she turned and went about fumbling her way through an array of wires that sat on my desk, most of which were already hooked up to the monitors. It was a task Adi did most mornings, even when I’d already ticked it off the list, ever the perfectionist, wanting to double check that nothing would go wrong with the day's show.

“Oh yeah, all’s fine. Teds is already obsessing over Halloween, ranting about what costume he wants to get this year. But August has only just passed, Ads.” I groaned, thinking back to the previous evening when Teddy had spent a good portion of his bath time rambling on about what every other kid in his class was going to be.

Adi peered back at me, the extremity of the grin she wore wrinkling the corners of her eyes. “Just kids, ain't it? We were the same, you'll miss it in a couple of years.”

I supposed she was right, but only because I didn’t have much of an experience to look back on. Halloween had just been me and mum in the woods up by the creek, collecting flowers and eucalyptus for the wreaths we’d make, then reading old stories by the fire.

“Don't remind me, please. I don't want him getting any bigger!” I sighed all too dramatically before standing to head on over towards the printer, picking up everything I’d sent off earlier from out the tray.

“It's the way of life, babe. So, when do you reckon Teds will end up towering over you?”

Adi simply chuckled when I stuck a finger up at her from over my shoulder, not even wanting to pay that idea any thought at all. Teddy was my baby, I couldn’t picture him all grown up.

“I should mention that I saw your tweet, by the way. Guessing you're nervous for today?” Adi added after, her tone a little softer than normal, catching me off guard enough that I actually stilled in place before I turned to face her.

“And you’re not?"

Adi’s mouth quirked upwards when she shook her head, dark ringlets moving with it.

“Why would I be? This is fucking huge for us, M! The exposure that we'll receive alone could really give us the big break we've been searching for- I honestly can't even begin to believe it.”

I gnawed on my bottom lip as I lingered over her words, then pushed back the thought of me having been the one to deal with the stress that was Healy’s management team to the back of my mind. Adi didn’t deserve that, I’d always been the one to deal with all the crap happening behind the scenes, and besides, Adi had a right to be excited. I only wished that I had the ability to join in on it.

“I just don't want to start up any more unnecessary drama, Ads.”

Drama was the very last thing I wanted, knowing that this whole thing with Healy could easily blow up in our faces if we didn’t go about it the right way. And if shit actually does end up hitting the metaphorical fan, then… I wasn't sure I'd be fit enough to handle it. Handle the backlash that would surely follow and affect the show, the only source of income I had. And without it, both Teddy and I would be royally fucked.

Apparently my lack of response had Adi rolling her eyes, adding an extra flare of dramatics to it by flicking my ear as she passed me by. “Don’t be such a worrier, babe. It’ll all work out, always does with us, don’t it? Besides, how can it not when I have a face as gorgeous as this?”

She winked, flashing me her famous grin.

“Tart.”

“Slag.” Adi easily countered.

A breathy chuckle escaped me and I shook my head before returning to the wad of papers I’d been rifling through. “Sorry to disappoint, but it’s the radio, babe. No one will be seeing that gorgeous face of yours, or the way your arse is currently hanging out of those shorts.”

Adi cut her eyes at me from across the room, but they gleamed under the studio’s lights. “Don’t be jealous. We both know you love it.”

“Jealous? I’m a mum!”

“A fit one.”

A laugh bubbled up out of my throat at that and I couldn't find the energy to deny it, so I just shook my head.

“Anyway, you’re wrong.” And at my confused look, Adi continued on, grinning wickedly as she waved around one of the large devices she’d since picked up and cradled in her hand. “We are working with the camera’s today. Sort of why I'm here setting them all up. See?”

“Wait, we’re filming?” I gawked, and my eyes felt like they were just about ready to bulge out of my head as I sat up further to shake my head at her. Mouth already dry. “Non. No, Adi. No one ever mentioned that! I can’t.”

“They called yesterday demanding it. Just as you left to pick up Teds- it must've slipped my mind. I'm so sorry, hun.” Adi revealed sheepishly, her face scrunched up in an apologetic wince as the camera rig dropped to her hip. “But don't worry, yeah? I promise it'll all be sound and then we'll be well on our way to becoming the UK's biggest radio show!”

I reverted back to worrying at my bottom lip, chewing on it as though I hadn't eaten for days whilst I tapped an anxious rhythm into the arm of my chair. I couldn’t do the cameras, not today at least.

“Trust me, Mouse. It’ll be alright. You’ve done it before and you can do it again. No one will say a thing.”

I wished I could fucking believe her.

***

The Sun @/Thesun 16m Matty Healy spotted out in London today! The singer has been relatively quiet for the past few days- somewhat strange for the wayward frontman- but will this all change now that he's been seen? (Link) H @/user1 18m um, what? he’s where?? Adi @/AdelineWells_ 19m Long day ahead but we're very excited for today's show! Big surprises in store for you lot, so who's looking forward to it?? @/petitesouris @/Mouseonamic Indie @/user2 21m @/AdelineWells_ AHHH hope it's another Adi's All-Knowing segment!! Urmymedicine @/user3 23m Did anyone else see Jamie’s ig post?? He says to keep an eye out- AN EYE OUT FOR WHAT?? Talk! @/user4 11m I feel like I've been hit by an unnecessary amount of information

***

Matty’s bleary stare made an attempt to focus on the blurring buildings that passed them by as the car cut through the paved streets of London. Grey just melting into another varied shade of grey.

It was still far too bright for the beginning of September, the remaining weeks of summer only just tittering away now, and Matty couldn't help the scowl that had long since settled into his hollow features. 

One of the very few things he liked about the city was the fact that it was almost sure to be gloomy during the colder months. But it seemed as though the sun was shining a little brighter today, much to his chagrin.

A dull pain throbbed at either side of his temples, it’d been there since he’d been forced awake, and so he'd had to wind the window all the way down as soon as they'd set off to keep the nausea at bay. He silently regretted not turning in early last night, but it couldn't have been helped. It was hard to stay asleep without his usual nightcap, and even then, it was harder to dismiss the memories that plagued his mind without downing half a bottle of something or other.

A frigid wash of air wound its way down his throat as he took a long breath, his mind slowing a tad as the afternoon breeze trickled across his skin. But soon enough Matty’s calm was broken and his attention was then caught by Jamie, who sounded just as thwart as he felt.

“You even listening to me, mate?”

Jamie’s undeterred voice filtered through the back of the car, a short lived sigh following in its wake.

Matty merely rolled his eyes from behind his darkened sunglasses and proceeded to slump further in his seat, lolling his head to the side so that his focus was now within the car instead of on the distractions of the outside world.

His gaze trailed its way across the dark leather seats and blacked out windows before it finally ended up landing on his manager, who was kitted up in one of his many sharp shirts and a pair of formal fitting trousers. A right snazzy twat.

Matty could appreciate their pattern though, Jamie hardly ever ventured too far into the world of fashion, so the burgundy tartan was a sight to behold.

He soon fixed Jamie with an apathetic stare from across the backseat, fingers already itching for a fag, or maybe something stronger. He couldn’t be arsed with the mindless bother he’d been sent to complete today, really didn’t want to be dealing with a roomful of people that were there to assault him with an extensive range of hard-hitting questions, or have any more unwanted cameras shoved in his face in truth. 

But here he was, doing it.

Following orders because that was what it took to be a puppet. He was too tired to be tugging on any strings today though, simply wanted to get the afternoon over and done with, hopefully without any repercussions, so that he could fall back into bed.

“Matty, mate.” Jamie huffed, his face having fallen into a pitiful expression that Matty didn’t quite like looking at, but couldn’t seem to look away from. 

For a while, he'd been fearful that he'd pushed his luck all too far with Jamie, as well as the rest of the band too he supposed. But it seemed as though the guy had a thing for redemption, because he was trying his fucking hardest to annoy Matty into growing the fuck up.

“Look. I know you don't like this anymore than I do, but it's your job, mate. You ain’t got much of a choice here. But think of it this way, right. It's better you being here, doing this, than drowning away in your own fucking sorrows- thought you'd given up drinking since rehab, anyway.”

Matty’s jaw clenched involuntarily at the reminder. Rehab. What was it with everyone and always bringing it up? He’d been too fucking gone on painkillers to have given a second thought to the little amount of alcohol that particular shit show had provided. Could hardly call it a rehabilitation centre either, not when you were constantly surrounded by other abusers who were practically there on a getaway, just finding other means to entertain themselves with.

Jamie broke the silence just as Matty’s mind began to spiral, and Matty couldn’t help but be rather thankful for it.

“You just gonna sit there then?” Jamie snorted, obviously trying to fill the tense quiet now, “Normally you’d have told me to piss off by now.”

“Piss off.” Matty murmured, turning his focus back to the window.

The car seemed to be slowing down now and Matty furrowed his brow when they came to a gentle halt outside a block of buildings.

“Where are we?”

“Outskirts of Islington, I think. Not too far from the studio.”

Matty didn't get much of a chance to reply- not that he'd had one, Islington never did manage to bring up the most fondest of memories with him- because Jamie had all but jumped at the chance to exit the vehicle, opening up the sliding backdoor to escape into the stream of daylight.

With a tired sigh, Matty ran a hand through his mussed hair before he made a move to join his manager, clicking his neck slightly as the bottoms of his leather, heeled boots clacked against the cobbled pavement.

There was the usual musty scent that lingered throughout the city as he took a breath, but the smell of petrol was somewhat stronger here. Hardly anyone was wandering down the backstreet they had pulled into though, and those that did didn't linger too long on either him or the extravagant hired car that he'd been sanctioned with since having been struck with yet another driving ban.

Craning his head up, Matty could tell that there wasn't much to the building they were standing outside of. A commercial unit, three stories or so. Its brick exterior worn and dotted with timber sash windows. It was quaint enough, but not what he was used to when it came to things like this.

"Alright. A quick debrief before we go in." Jamie started, already fixing the faint creases in his otherwise pristine shirt, caused from where he’d been sat working in the backseat. “This is the same show that you had a bit of a spat with earlier this week, alright? So you'll be meeting the same girl that spoke out about your, um… Well, your image and publicity, and all that crap, generally speaking."

Jamie’s eyes flitted around them before he was back to typing away on his phone again. Fucking thing was practically attached to his hand, made Matty wonder how the hell he managed a wank.

But then he caught onto that last bit of his sentence and furrowed his brows, throwing Jamie another quick glance, not quite comprehending.

“Why we even here then? Thought your lot had a right mare dealing with all that.”

Jamie had the decency to look a tad bit sheepish as he started to lead them over towards one of the heavy-duty doors that adorned each of the surrounding units.

“They think that by doing this, it will clear up any allegations. They just want you to right your wrongs, I ‘spose. Make it known that what went down was just a 'misunderstanding' of sorts.”

“Right my? For fucks sake, Jamie! I was shitfaced! And if I remember fucking rightly, this supposed presenter spoke some actual truth. How the fuck am I meant to deny that and clear this whole fucking mess up?"

Matty was quite close to fuming now. It was always the same thing, again and again. The lies were never ending. So much so that he could hardly even recognise them from the truth anymore, everything had seemed to mould into one.

Jamie had since paused, his hand resting on the door's brass handle whilst he gave Matty the best smile he could possibly muster up. "Matty, mate, I'm sorry. Listen, I thought I could-"

Matty cut him off with a throaty scoff.

"Don't make out you're sorry. Not when you're just here ‘to do your job’. The only thing you're sorry for is the fact that you've got to be here at all, to suffer through all this shit with me and put up with the added drama. Just do me a fucking favour and keep your half-arsed apologies to yourself, mate."

Jamie looked genuinely taken back by his vicious rant for once, and somewhat hurt too, but Matty paid it no mind. He knew where to hit where it hurt, and he often didn’t stop until he tasted blood. The band knew that better than most.

"You act like you're here for me, when all you really care about is goin’ by the book and following the rules. Fucking grow a pair and apologise to me when there's an actual ounce of sympathy behind it." He spat back, teeth grinding as he clenched his jaw, glowering at the man standing before him. 

Matty shoved past his startled manager before he could linger on his words and pushed his way through the door. Fisted hands already making their way into his pockets as his nails dug crescent shaped moons into his palms in a desperate attempt to take the edge off of his vibrating anger.

"Ah, good, you're already here then! Thought we'd heard voices!" A cheerful lilt called out just as Matty rounded the short hallway, Jamie hot on his tail, and came face to face with a girl, who was leaning heavily against the metal rail lining the steep stairwell. 

Matty winced at the brashness of her greeting, eyes narrowing behind his sunglasses at the very force of her presence. She had a mane of thick curls bundled atop her head, lips lined red and lashes winged with a heavy liner. She was definitely younger than him, but not by much, and he could only guess as he approached her, that she stood at a similar height to him too when she wasn't prancing about on metal staircases. 

His fingertips trailed across the paperboard carton he had stowed away in his jacket pocket as Jamie hurried on over to meet the woman- a beaming smile now replacing his previously dejected look. Matty bit into his cheek at the sight of it.

"Yeah, sorry if we're late! Hey, it's great to meet you, I'm Jamie and this is obviously Matty." Jamie greeted with an incessant smile Matty couldn't bring himself to look at, before his manager was gesturing towards him- the disgruntled singer he was always stuck babysitting- and then reaching out a hand.

"Adeline, but my mates call me Adi." The girl, Adi, chirped as she took Jamie’s palm in her own, her eyes flitting towards Matty long enough to get a good once over. A gesture Matty returned. "It's great to have you both here."

She wore a grin so large it practically surpassed the honey brown eyes that brightened her face. Her teeth were white, if not a little crooked, and the force of her smile showed off the metal piercing that sat against her front teeth.

"We're honestly really excited to have you on the show! We'll have a proper laugh and just chill, so there's no pressure or anything. Mouse is upstairs, by the way. Still have to set up the final bits and bobs." Adi added, her enthusiasm somehow never faltering. "You'll love her! She's the main man round here, the one who started up the show and all that. You'll be speaking to her once we begin, but depending on how everything goes I'm hoping to join the two of you at some point."

Matty merely hummed in reply, which earned him a slight jab to the ribs from Jamie, one he tried not to lash out at. And Adi’s eyes slitted a tad as she followed the gesture, though Matty noted she gathered herself rather quickly.

"So, is that all of you then? No one else to meet?" Jamie wondered politely and Adi chuckled in retort as she began to lead them up the shifting staircase, giving them both an eyeful of her long legs.

"Nah, you're in the clear. It's just the two of us running things around here."

Matty worked his jaw at her response, whilst the sound of his boots hitting each metal stair reverberated around them.

"And that works?" He couldn't stop himself from asking.

Adi's head snapped back to find him, eyes peering over her shoulder as she rounded the first small landing and started on the next set of stairs.

"Mouse was on her own for a long while before I came along. We cope fine on our own though. We might not be as big as some other radio shows at the moment, but we've got a good relationship that works well within this industry. She can be stubborn, whilst I can be pushy, and even when we butt heads over things, we're able to make up in the end for the sake of the show. I don't know how it would work, throwing someone else into the mix."

Matty gave her a curt nod.

"So, Mouse?" Jamie questioned just as they bypassed the second floor, continuing up the staircase. Matty could hear the curiosity that lined his voice.

Adi flashed them another grin. "Mouse. It's what she goes by."

"Oh?" Jamie prodded, prompting her even further. He had a right thing for nicknames, loved hearing the stories behind them or something. 

"Don't know how it came about, in all honesty. You'll have to ask. But it's been her pseudonym ever since she started as a kid."

Matty’s ears perked up upon hearing that, but it was Jamie who quizzed her.

"She's been doing this since she was a kid?"

"Technically. But no, it started out as a Twitter account, just her venting her thoughts and opinions on the music she loved. And trust me, teenage Mouse was just as cut throat and sarcastic as she is now- maybe even more so- but people loved it, still do. The idea for the radio show came about a couple years later, and that was that."

Adi stopped talking just as they reached the very top. The staircase had led them straight into an open plan room, where a large leather sofa separated the sitting area from the tiny kitchenette in the far back corner, and where half of the living space had been overtaken by a recording booth.

Matty blinked. It wasn't at all what he had been expecting.

"God, this is insane." Jamie suddenly crowed from beside him and Matty followed his manager’s wide eyed gaze to where a skylight had been fitted overhead, giving them a clear view of the bright blue skies they'd just escaped from.

"I know." Adi spoke through a breathy exhale, her eyes twinkling as she grinned up at the oversized window. "It was what sold us on the place, honestly. That, and the access we have to the roof."

She gestured over towards the closest window to the stairs then and Matty found a fire exit hatch sat just on the outside of it.

"Don't think the other tenants renting out the spaces below even know about it. Well that, or we've just been lucky enough to never to catch one another up there." She chuckled and Jamie joined her. 

Matty’s hand tightened around his pack of cigarettes, eyes lingering on the hatch. But before he could ask if he could get a quick look at it, Adi was waltzing her way across the room and over towards the kitchen. 

She waved them closer and gestured towards two sofas and a vintage looking armchair that should have looked somewhat out of place, if it hadn't been for the rest of the mismatched furniture that littered the space. From the mint green fridge shelving a chaotic range of mugs, to the wearing Victorian coffee table, which was hilariously similar to the one Matty’s grandmother had preened over whenever guests had gone to visit.

"Tea, coffee?" Adi asked and Matty dipped his head as he took a perch on the edge of an armchair facing the tele box. It looked well over two decades old and he questioned the last time he'd seen one that'd had a DVD player built into it.

"Coffee. Black."

Adi raised an amused brow but didn't comment, looking towards Jamie. "And you, Glasses?"

Jamie only chuckled at the name referring to the thick rimmed frames he often wore. "Tea, please. Milk, two sugars."

"Be with you in just a sec!" Adi winked in reply and pulled four mugs down from the fridge.

"Cheers." Jamie thanked her, smiling all the while, before a look of remembrance crossed his face. "So where's this famous Mouse of yours then?"

And as though someone had answered him, Matty looked up to find the door to the recording booth opening and watched as someone stepped out to join them.

[chvoswxtch]

court my luv. i’m trying to think of something, anything but all i can think that my goddess Dinah is looking at me with those beautiful brown eyes and my mind is just blank…(also i am the most non-creative person in the world)

so yeah, i’m just saying ✨Dinah Madani✨ and leaving the rest to you, darlin 💘💘

you had me at dinah

I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it, and know it was a struggle to not make this thirty pages 🙃

happy pride my love!!! 🏳️‍🌈 🖤

warning: dinah madani's fine ass, swearing, mentions of alcohol, allusions to spiciness word count: 1k

stood up.

The hallways of the Homeland Security headquarters were silent as you walked through them. It was late on a Thursday, already half past nine, and almost everyone had gone home hours ago except for the security guards at the front desk in the lobby. Everyone except your girlfriend, Dinah. 

It was the third time this month that she’d stood you up for your dinner plans. You knew when you first met her how dedicated she was to her job, and while you admired her passion and tenacity, it also frustrated the hell out of you sometimes, especially when you’d spent over an hour getting ready. You hadn’t shaved for nothing. But, instead of starting a fight over it, you decided to compromise. 

As you walked down the hallway from the elevators, you caught a clear view of a familiar head of dark brown curls. Dinah was hunched over her desk, her perfectly shaped dark brows pinched in pure concentration. She was so focused she didn’t even hear you approach. Standing in the doorway of her office, you took a moment just to take her in. She’d abandoned her blazer over the back of her chair most likely hours ago, leaving her in a sleeveless black blouse with a v-cut neckline, giving you a tantalizing view of her gorgeous skin, the gold pendant necklace she always wore dangling around her neck. It often annoyed you how effortlessly good she always looked.

Deciding to finally announce your presence, you lightly knocked on her open door, and Dinah’s head shot right up. Her laser focus melted into pure surprise, but there were a few hints of confusion etched onto her features.

“Hey, what are you doing here?”

“You missed dinner.”

Shooting you a puzzled look, her attention shifted to her phone lingering on her desk, and as she reached for it, Dinah clicked the side button and the screen lit up showcasing the time. She muttered a ‘shit’ under her breath, also noticing a few mixed calls and texts from you. Glancing up at you with guilt shining in her espresso tinted eyes, her face fell in pure remorse.

“Baby, I’m sorry-”

“Can you put those away?”

Dinah’s dark brows furrowed slightly in perplexity as she slightly tilted her head to the side. You motioned towards the grisly crime scene photos spread across her desk with your index finger before reaching into the tote bag you were carrying to pull out a large bag of takeout you’d brought.

“Murder kind of ruins my appetite.”

Dinah’s expression shifted to one of barely concealed bewilderment when you set the takeout bag down on the edge of her desk. Her eyes shifted between the large brown paper bag and your face, staring at you silently for a moment before a faint playful smile stretched over her lips. Leaning back in her chair, she looked up at you and lifted one of her perfectly arched brows.

“I stood you up, and you brought me dinner?”

There was a hint of amusement in her alluring voice, but also an undertone of lingering guilt. Shaking your head, you pulled out a bottle of red wine and two glasses, setting them next to the takeout bag before reaching into the tote again to retrieve a candle.

“Can’t stand me up if I’m bringing the date to you. Murder, away.”

Dinah let out a genuine laugh when you made a shooing motion with your hand towards the crime scene photos on her desk. Shifting them into a single pile, she collected them and slipped them into a file, tucking it into a drawer on the left side of her desk. She gazed up at you adoringly as you turned her desk into a makeshift dinner table, taking the food dishes out of the bag and spreading them out, uncorking the wine bottle to pour each of you a generous glass, and lighting the candle you’d brought and placed in the middle of her desk. 

She reached for your arm and pulled you down to sit sideways on her lap, wrapping her arms around your waist while she leaned in to press a soft kiss to your neck, whispering into your ear.

“You’re too good to me, you know that?”

Tilting your head to the side a little to grant her more access to your sensitive skin, a faint smirk curled at the edge of your mouth.

“Oh don’t think I’m not making you earn your forgiveness later.”

You could feel Dinah grinning against your skin, nuzzling her nose along the underside of your jaw, one of her hands inching up your thigh towards the hem of your skirt.

“Why don’t you let me earn it now? I’m in the mood for dessert.”

Reaching down, you grabbed her wrist and halted her hand’s path, turning to look at her with an arched brow.

“Because dinner was at seven, and it’s now nine-thirty. You have about twenty minutes before I become a complete nightmare.”

Dinah let out a loud laugh at that, faintly shaking her head as she reached for one of the wine glasses and handed it to you.

“Alright baby girl, let’s get you fed. I’ll spread you out on my desk after.”

You nearly choked on your wine as your eyes widened, struggling to swallow before laughing.

“Dinah!”

“What?”

“No.”

“What do you mean ‘no’?”

“Di, your office is see-through.”

Dinah glanced between you and the glass windows of her office, taking a large sip of her wine before casually shrugging her shoulders and looking at you again.

“So?”

“Di-”

“No one’s here.”

“There are security guards-”

“In the lobby, downstairs.”

“And if someone decides to show up to get some late night work done?”

You gestured towards the elevators at the opposite end of the hallway that Dinah’s office had a straight and clear view of. She stared through the windows of her office towards the elevators, pursing her lips with a faint shrug of her shoulders.

“Then they’ll find out how much I love my girlfriend’s pussy.”

tags: @cheshirecat484 @viennangel @ameliaswife