#The past 3 packages I had to get someone from the front office to dig in the guts of the who package system to free my boxes

[samahlen]

Hell yeah!!! My third scroll frame is being delivered soon! You know what that means!!!!

Time to have 3 WIPs at the same time and finish none of them!!!!!!!!! 🥳🥳🥳

[percywinchester27]

La Petite Mort

Word count: 2.1K

Pairing: Dean X Reader AU

Warnings: None, just fluff, humour and implied sex ;)

Series Summary: The reader has just shifted to a new flat and boy, someone on the floor has a really banging sex life! The passionate moans have been keeping her up for several nights in row and enough is enough! Reader has her suspicions, but is it really the green-eyed hottie from room no. 307?  

A/N: It’s a neighbours!AU. I’m finally writing one. So excited to share it with you guys. Hope y’all like it! <3

Beta: The best babe, @deanssweetheart23​​​​​

Everything was fine till the banging started. Pun very much intended.

The shift had been smooth, the job was going great and life was finally on track. You had slid under the covers with the most satisfied smile in years only to be woken up to a lady very, very, very happy with her life.

Oh yeah… oh yeah… ahhh right there… oh fuck yeah…

You sat up right in your bed, eyes wide, face hot.

Third night in a row. Third fucking night. Literally.

What in the good heavens? The landlady might have mentioned this while renting out the flat!

Shoving the pillow over your ears, you fell back onto the mattress, closing your eyes shut very tightly. Eventually sleep overtook you and you lapsed into lousy dreams of trying to catch the taxi which kept evading you. Not a metaphor for your sex life at all. Nope.

The disturbed sleep didn’t help your mood the following day. Everyone at the office thought of you as a happy-go lucky person. Lately, they were seeing this whole new dark side of you. Sleep was essential to your functioning. 

In the evening, on your way back, you stopped by the coffee shop downstairs to pick up a brownie. It was a little place; busy yet quaint. The barista, Charlie, made two hearts in your coffee instead of one. That put the biggest smile on your face. 

At least, the day was ending on a high note.

Your newly rented flat was on the third floor of a very complicated building. One staircase did not directly lead into another. An entire hallway had to be crossed to get to it. The design probably broke a hundred different by laws and someone was definitely paid off in the city civil office to get a construction permit. You did not want to imagine how the people would fare in case of a fire emergency. Learning the escape plan was like memorising the map of a treasure hunt. You escape, you win. You lose… whoops! Better luck in next life. But the rent was cheap and you were already living all the clichés of a struggling writer- one incomplete book, a job at a publishing house and addiction to coffee. So, yes, you would brave fire when it came to being able to afford a living.

Struggling with the brownie package and the coffee in your hand you jammed the key into the door. It didn’t go in. 

What the hell?

You tried again, and once more the key got jammed. On a closer look, you realised that the lock didn’t resemble yours at all. Stepping back, you peered at the door. 307. Not 306- which was yours.

The floor design was insane and instead of the flats being lined up next to each other, they were all fronting one another in a haphazard fashion. Shaking your head, you took a step back and jammed the key into the lock of your own flat.

Jesus! You’re losing it, Y/N.

Shirking off the mild irritation, you cooked yourself a hot cup of instant noodles, put on your favourite TV show and slinked into your couch. Tonight’s episode was going to reveal who the murderer was and you had been dying for the suspense to finally end. 

Just when the protagonist was about to point a gun at the killer in the shadows…

Oh my God... you’re incredible… aahhhh… ahhhh… ahhh…

You completely abandoned the TV and jumped up from the sofa. The fire hazard might still be worth it, but the thin walls so weren’t.

On tiptoes, you made your way to the east side wall, putting your ear against it. The noise wasn’t coming from upstairs. That was the only sure thing. But it was impossible to pinpoint the direction. The moans were reverberating through the walls. So loudly that there was no escaping it. Not in the bedroom, the kitchen or the living room sofa. 

Of all of them, the east wall seemed like the culprit. 

Right there… yeah…

307. Whoever it was in that room needed to calm the FUCK down. You grabbed your blanket and dragged it to the end of the living room, fuming. What ticked you off was how much this was ticking you off.

It’s sleep you told yourself. The lack of sleep was the only thing making you mad. The sex noises couldn’t be it. Because there were other noises- a dog barked somewhere occasionally, one of the rooms had a very loud stereo and someone was too much into baking- the beater was ceaseless. No, it had to be the timing and your wrecked sleep schedule.

Just like the nights before, you covered your ears and started reciting the story of the manuscript you had been reading at work. Eventually, sleep overtook you again.

The next morning you woke up in a crappier mood. If that was even possible.

Breathing down on anything and everything, you locked the door on your way out for work. Turning into the corridor, you ran into a wall of solid flesh. 

In your groggy, sleep deprived state, the first thing you noticed was the way he smelled- leather and whiskey and something headier than that. It was divine. Next, you looked up into those eyes- stunning green, like sparkling water running over jade.

“Easy there, sweetheart!” The guy smirked. 

You straightened yourself and took a step back. In front of you stood the most handsome guy you had ever seen. He was tall, with dirty blond hair, almost brown, and those stunning eyes. 

“I’m so sorry,” you muttered, trying to collect your scattered thoughts. You had one of those dumb faces that gave away every damn thought crossing through your brain, so obviously you tried your best not to meet his gaze. Which was a shame really. That face demanded to be ogled at. Let alone the body that followed.

“No, no… I didn’t mind at all.” 

You saw him reach out to the door of 307.

“You’re the one who lives there?” You asked through gritted teeth. 

He raised an eyebrow. “Sure. You want a tour?”

Uhgg the best looking guy and he has to be such a douche!

Slipping past him, you stomped off towards the stairs. This too-good-looking-for-the-world asshat had been ruining your nights and in turn your life. 

You knew it was wrong to be mad at him without, at least, talking about the issue first. A polite conversation explaining your situation wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world now, would it? But how does one start a conversation pertaining to that? After all, he wasn’t exactly the one making the noise. What would you say?

So, hey would you mind pleasuring your girlfriend a little less? 

Or better. Ever heard of a ball gag?

Mere thought of it made you shudder.

The work day was spent trying to shove your neighbour's stupidly handsome face out of your mind. It didn’t help that your mother kept calling, repeatedly. You knew what she had to say. How you should have taken that bigger job at Royal’s publishing. How the writing career might never take off. How you really should get a boyfriend now, or you’ll be the only unmarried cousin in the family.

Usually you could entertain your mother with well-timed hmms and ahhs. Today wasn’t that day.

Bone-tired and absentminded, you jammed the key in the keyhole in the evening, only for it to get stuck again. You looked up at the door. 307.

Well, shit!

Putting both your hands into it, you yanked the key with all your might, just as the door opened. There he stood, with his crooked smirk, dimples digging in, wearing nothing but a thin cotton t-shirt and sweatpants that hung all too low on those hips.

“You don’t need to break into my house. I already offered a tour.” Of course, god gave him an irresistible voice. Cause at this point, why not?

“Sorry,” you muttered, looking anywhere but at him. “I keep getting the wrong door. This one’s mine.”

“Oh, so you’re the one in 306!” You could feel his smirk more than see it. “Looks like you’re having a good ol’ time in there.”

“Excuse me?”

The guy raised scratched the back of his neck, face apologetic. “You might… ya know… just keep the voice down in there?”

The audacity of this guy!

“Rich of you to ask anyone to keep it down!” You hissed. “Why don’t you tell your girlfriend to keep it low?” 

With that, you shut your door in his surprised face. The worst part was, after bumping into him in the morning, your mind was producing distinct images of him in the bed, doing things to a woman. You had tried your best not to let them make a home in your head. But like a stickly tenant, they refused to evacuate. No wonder it was hard to look him in those brilliant, brilliant green eyes. The guy was hot! There was no denying that. You weren’t even willing to accept to yourself just how much time you had put into imagining him naked.

If anything, the denial mixed with your pre-existing irritation and sleep deprivation had you ready tonight. 

So the moment the enamoured voice started begging, you hopped out of your chair. You had every intention of yelling yourself hoarse at the delectable resident next door, but the moment you stepped into the corridor, you came face to face with the very man. 

He was- thankfully, completely clothed- looking a bit harassed, himself.

aahhhh… ahhhh… ahhh… right there...

Your head whipped up to the suspected direction of the voice, and back at him. “Wait, you aren’t… it’s not...?”

His face mirrored your expression of surprise and then he burst out laughing. “Looks like we’ve both been played.”

“Not intentionally,” you said, peering at the adjacent doors, mostly to not look at him. “Where do you think it’s coming from?”

He shot a glance at the door opposite to his. “If it’s not you, my best guess is that guy over there. I mean, if you ask me, Nick over there doesn’t look the type to make a woman that happy… but what do I know?”

“You shouldn’t make assumptions about people,” you said, taking a tentative step towards the said door.

Mr. hot guy smartpants laughed. “Oh, trust me. He’s the douchiest douche you’ll ever meet. Guy like that? Definitely selfish in bed.”

You frowned at him.

“He asks women in the street to smile more,” hot guy explained.

“Uhhgg… yeah you’re right. It’s definitely not him.”

Hot guy pointed his fingers at the rest of the doors. “That one’s rented by three guys. I don’t think it’s them. Mrs. Hendrickson over there works night shifts. I have no clue who lives in there,” he pointed to the last door, directly in front of you.

Goodness you’re amazing...

“Yes, lady, we already know!” He called out.

You couldn’t help the giggle that burst through your lips.

His eyes softened. “Dean Winchester,” he said, offering his hand.

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N,” you said, taking his. He had a firm grip. A very funny sensation gripped your stomach. Like a flutter. Nervousness? 

“It’s great to meet you, Y/N.” He smirked. “I sure wish the circumstances were better.”

You bit your lip. “Listen, I’m sorry for the comment about your girlfriend. I was just mad about, you know... “

“Don’t worry about it. My non-existent girlfriend is very cool. She took no offense.”

You snorted.

“I was dead serious about the house tour,” He winked. “I can promise great coffee.”

“Sure, sometime soon.”

He shot a look at the door with the unknown occupants again. “I hate to leave this here, but I think we should get whatever kind of shuteye we can while they’re quiet over there, huh?”

“Oh, yeah!” You hurried back to your flat. “Night, Dean.”

He gave you his crooked grin again, just a hint of mischief. “Night, Y/N.”

You knew it wasn’t him now, and he was right about making the most of the quiet and fucking off to sleep, and yet, each time you closed your eyes, your mind decided to replay your imaginations for you. With a start, you sat up in your bed, a thought occurring to you like a hit on the head- If you had been thinking about him that way? Had he been imagining you as well?

Blood rushed to your face at the very idea. Though a tiny part of you begged for the answer- would it be such a bad thing if he had?

*********************

A/N 2: So? So? SO??? What do you think?

I value each and every reblog more than I can tell you! Thank you! Feedback is love and life!

This series will have a total of 5 or 6 parts max.

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La Petite Mort Taglist:

@deanssweetheart23   @cosicas-cuquis​   @like-a-bag-of-potatoes​   @mlovesstories​   @feelmyroarrrr​   @thefridgeismybestie​   @gabavaldman​   @akshi8278​   @michellethetvaddict  @fandomoverdose666​   @badlittlehabit99​   @lastcallatrockysbar​   @mrswhozeewhatsis​   @thestralsaregood​   @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou​   @notan-applepielife​   @stoneyggirl​   @tricksterdean​   @sea040561​   @i-is-for-inspiring​   @torn-and-frayed​   @flamencodiva​   @sunflowers-n-rocknroll​   @binxy   @sdavid09​   @sherala007​   @ohgodwhybloggg​   @mogaruke​   @seekingkairos​   @tootsie562   @pansexualgrapes​   @soitiswritten05  @shesnotmaria​   @miss-nerd95​   @thing-you-do-with-that-thing​   @atc74​   @onethirstyunicorn​   @thoughts-and-funnies​   @deandreamernp​   @deanwinchesterinthedarktower​   @outofnowhere82​   @traceyaudette​

[sunflowerstache]

Not So Bad In L.A

A/N: It’s finally posted y’all! I’m so sorry it’s been so long since I last updated, life has kind of just been a bit busy and I was definitely in a writing jam/had some major writer’s block! But I got past it and I hope this was worth the wait! Love you all, and as always, if you have any questions/concerns/suggestions/want to get tagged/all of the above, please let me know! I love hearing from you beautiful people!

Chapter 5: The Light Is Coming

           February 3, 2017

Word Count: 3.9k

Masterlist      Fic Masterlist

Previous Chapter        

“Excuse me, you’re doing what with who?!”

You and the girls were all sitting together in your living room, nursing a bottle of Moscato. It was the afternoon after Harry’s birthday party, and Nick had texted you early this morning, undoubtedly dragging his hungover feet on the way to the breakfast Harry had mentioned. Not only did he want to make sure you got home alright the night before, but being the nosy man that he is, felt the need to ask what went on with you and Harry while he was ‘knocking back countless tequila shots’.

“Don’t make it a bigger deal than it is, Sav. It’s lunch with a new friend.”

“Sure... lunch with a new friend who happens to be Harry fucking Styles.” Bri laughed, going to answer the door as the doorbell just sounded through your apartment.

Bella chuckled, picking up the now empty bottle of wine and frowning, “How are we out already?” she got up and walked into the kitchen, yelling; “Have you told Morgan about your new friend yet?”

“Not yet, no. She wants to take the USMLE soon so I don’t wanna bother her.” The USMLE is a 3-step test a hopeful doctor has to take in order to be eligible to get their medical license. She was trying to take it as early as possible, and you had to constantly remind her that she was definitely going to ace it since she was the smartest girl you’d ever met.

“Better tell her now before she sees you on some twitter account or some shit.” Sav laughed, “Also, I don’t want to be like a downer, but you know Harry might ask about your family, right? Are you – are you like, prepared for all that?”

The room got quiet and all eyes fell on you. You fiddled with the blanket resting on your lap and felt your chest grow a bit tighter. Bri and Bella had both re-entered the living room; Bri resting against the door frame and Bella taking her place back next to you on the couch.

“I um, I haven’t really thought about it.” You shrugged. You absolutely adored your family. When you lived at home, you valued nothing more than spending time with the people you love. And deciding to leave them was the hardest thing you ever done. But like most families, there were some things you just didn’t talk about. Some things you just didn’t want to even think about.

“Alright, how about we don’t be debby downers right now, and instead, we talk about this package that just came for Y/N.” Bri smiled, walking over to sit on the hardwood floor in front of you, handing you your package

“Ooooh, did your new boyfran send you something already?”

“Honestly, it was probably Ronnie. You know Y/N’s mom loves sending mail.”

“It’s from Youtube.” You smiled, opening the large box, “It’s um – it’s my plaque for reaching 100,000 subscribers.” YouTube was something that you never really talked about. It was something you did on the side after each one of your trips and people seemed to enjoy it. You loved creating a video where people could really capture the feel of a location before getting the chance to go, or even just watch the video for fun. You had somehow conned 100,000 very dedicated people into watching your videos and you couldn’t be more thankful for them.  

“YES BITCH!”

“I know I’m speaking for all of us when I say you really deserve this. Seriously, you work your ass off for the magazine and then come home and work on your videos and I’m just really proud of you.” Bella smiled, raising her glass. Having your best girlfriends around you and supporting you during a journey that you didn’t know you would ever embark on was more important than any sort of award you could receive.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry texted you early the next morning. You were sitting at your kitchen island, basking in the early morning sunlight that was shining through your windows and enjoying a bowl of Cheerios, when your phone dinged. You knew it wasn’t Nick, as he was still passed out on your couch. And it wasn’t any of the girls, as they were all getting ready for work. The five of you had a riveting night of watching The Office (Nick of course butting in and making comments about the original UK version) while playing a drinking game: take a shot whenever anyone makes eye contact with the camera. It was a quick way to ensure getting drunk, albeit not a great idea for the 3 of 5 of you who had work that morning. Nick was leaving to go home later tonight, after spending nearly a week showing you his favorite spots around LA, encouraging you all to drink more in those 3 weeks than you had since moving, and spending some days just cuddled on the couch watching movies. It was nice having him there. Granted, he had spent a day or two with other LA based friends of his, but waking up to him in your living room was nice, because you knew you most likely wouldn’t be seeing him again for some time. Glancing down at your phone, you smiled at the incoming message.

“Still willing to have lunch with me? Around 11?”

Part of you had thought he’d forgotten about his proposition. That maybe he was more drunk than he lead on that night and had just forgotten about you. Before his party, the two of you had been texting for almost three days straight, so it was odd when you didn’t hear from him the last day and half. You shook your head and thought the same thing you had been telling yourself; “He’s a superstar Y/N, he’s busy.”

“I think the real question is do you still want to have lunch with me?”

You sat and continued your chat with Harry for quite some time, deciding what kind of food you were in the mood for and a central location for you both (which according to Harry wasn’t a necessity on his end). But to your surprise, he continued the conversation. You felt like you had known him forever, but after thinking about it, you really didn’t know much about him… Other than what you learned by being a fan, and so you decided if you were going to be friends with the infamous Harry Styles, you were going to get to know the real Harry Styles.

“What the fuck are you smiling at, at 7am. There’s literally nothing to be happy about this early.”

“Nick, you wake up at like 4am for work, this should be nothing for you.” You chuckled, finishing your cereal and reaching to place your bowl in the sink across from your seat at the island.

“I’m generally not this hungover when going to work.” You opened your mouth to argue that statement, but he beat you too it and held up a finger, “I said generally.”

Not bothering to stifle a yawn, he reached into the cabinet to grab a mug and made himself busy making his morning coffee. Having him in the house was nice. Living with three other girls could get a bit hectic sometimes. There was usually lots of whining and yelling to be heard echoing through the house at all hours of the day, heels left all over the living room after long days of work, and you don’t remember the last time you were able to wake up and not find someone digging through your closet. It had been so long since you lived with a guy and it was nice being reminded of how simple it was.

“Alright look.” Nick mumbled as he turned around and leaned on the opposite counter to face you, “I’m leaving tonight, so you know I have to part with some brotherly advice.”

You sighed.

“Sorry.” he rubbed his eyes, “Anyways, I’m aware you’re talking to Harold and-“

“Grimmy no! I’m stopping you right there. We are not talking. We literally just met and are friends. I don’t even know if you can call us friends.” You knew this would be coming at some point before his departure. Nick always had a way to sneak in some weird form of protectiveness over you anytime he was around.

“You’re texting and meeting up. Call it what you will, but listen to me. Just be careful alright? I love the lad like he’s family, but when you’re with Harry, you’re not just with Harry. There’re always people watching and always something to be said about it. I just don’t want you surprised by anything.”

The ding of another incoming text message made you both look at your phone, smiling softly at Harry’s unknown perfect timing.

“Thanks Grim, I appreciate it. But I’m a big girl.”

“Look, I’m just trying to make sure your ass doesn’t get posted all over social media. If anyone’s gonna do it, it’s going to be me.”

“No one’s posting my ass anywhere. I’d have to have one in order for that to even happen.” The two of you broke out into a fit of giggles, eventually shushing each other in fear of waking up the rest of the house.

“Thanks for letting me crash with you these last couple days.” He smiled as you got up off your stool to make your way to stand in front of him.

“Thank you for coming to see me. I missed you.” You replied and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, “Now, I’m gonna go take a shower and get ready for my lunch plans with Harry and evidently the rest of the world.”

It was approaching 7:30am when you made your way into your room, watching Bri as she left your closet, holding a pair of black booties and uttering a sleepy “Morning.” You had about three hours before you had to meet up with Harry, realistically only two with getting ready and LA traffic. Your only dilemma was what to wear. You’ve seen how Harry dresses and can only assume what his standards are. Only problem was you didn’t own anything quite so designer. Shaking your head, you walked into your closet. After all, it was only lunch with a new friend.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Upon arriving, you immediately knew that you and Harry had very different ideas of a causal lunch. Soft music and the murmur of conversations being held filled the air and you could faintly hear the sound of water in the distance.

“Hello. How may I help you today?”

You turned to see a young girl, most likely no older than 18, standing behind the podium and looking at you expectantly.

“I um, I think I have a reservation?” you then realized that you never talked to Harry about how this was going to work. Did you give the girl his name? What if someone heard and freaked out? Did he put it under an alias, and if so what was it? You probably looked like a crazy person standing there just starring at her blankly, “I’m meeting a friend, but I don’t know what the reservation is under.”

The young man standing next to her turned and interjected, “Mr. Einstein at table W12. I can escort her.” He made his way around the podium and pointed towards the back doors that led outside, “If you’ll follow me.” The restaurant was filled with predominantly middle-aged couples, which made sense considering it was a Friday at 11am. As the hostess in front of you opened the back doors, a small breeze blew through and your flowy white pants swayed with it. You had decided on pairing those pants with a green camisole top and a pair of small nude heels, figuring that if you were to somewhat dress up for any lunch, it would be this one. It crossed your mind for a brief moment that whoever this man was leading you to could in fact, not be Harry, but someone else waiting for someone to arrive, however, you then caught sight of his curls. Harry was seated in the far corner, head down looking at his phone, while one hand scratched the back of his neck. You could see his knee bobbing up and down and he was steadily chewing on his bottom lip, like whatever he was doing on his phone was causing him duress. But as soon as he heard your footsteps approaching, his head popped up and looked directly at you.

“Y/N. Hi.” He smiled as he stood up, opening his arms for a quick hug before the hostess led you right to an open chair at the tabl, ”Thank you Danny.” He nodded to the young boy.

“It’s good to see you again! Sorry I didn’t text you earlier, I was doing work stuff and Grimmy was over most of the day yesterday and you know how he gets.” He laughed

“No, don’t worry about it! Thanks for the invite…… Mr. Einstein.”

“I try not to give my real name when going out. Kind of causes a big thing that I just want to avoid, you know? Thought Einstein would be a good enough give away, considering you did call yourself that you when we met.” He chuckled

The two of you chatted for a bit, not really about much, mostly you telling him about a new piece you were working on for the magazine. He was very intent on just listening to you talk, which was something you hadn’t really experienced before. Growing up, you were always fighting for attention between your friends and family members, since there are so many of you. Not that how you grew up was a bad thing, just having someone who was genuinely interested in what you had to say was a nice change of pace. But you had made a promise to yourself this morning, you were going to get to know Harry, so you finally decided to take the topic off of yourself.

“Alright well, if we’re going to be friends, I can’t be the only one who talks. I happen think you quiet enjoy talking about yourself.” You surprised yourself being so up front with him, but like you’d been thinking since you first met, you felt very comfortable around Harry.

“Oh, do you now? What else do you think you know about me?” he smirked, leaning forward and folding his hands on the table.

And that’s how it started. Instead of playing the typical 20 questions game to learn about each other, you just spewed out different assumptions you had about the other. It ranged anything from where you’re from to your favorite animal to what your favorite kind of cake was.

“Okay, okay. You’re a One Direction fan.” he guessed. At this, you could feel your ears perking up and warmth in your cheeks. Averting your eyes, you glanced to your side at the water.

“What lead you to that assumption?”

“I may have made a few inquiries before lunch today.” he shrugged, “Am I correct?”

“Hmmm yeah, I guess you could say that. I um – my best friends - Bella, Sav and I have been fans since you guys finished X Factor. And it just kind of snowballed from there. We had been to like five shows. Were looking forward to hearing album number five live, but there was a hiatus announced before that could happen.”

“Yeah, well I hear they wanted to try the whole ‘Solo’ thing.”

“Yet, only one has released music.” you pondered, jokingly.

He smiled, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms, “I happen to have it on good authority that the devishly handsome one is working on his music.”

“Devishly handsome? Niall really does have something special about him, huh.” You joked, sipping your water and staring at him over the glass, “Joking. I look forward to hearing it one day.”

The two of you quickly fell back into your game of information and bouncing assumptions off one another, laughing when someone got one correct and correcting them when it was wrong. He raised his eyebrows when you corrected him on your favorite song – his guess being Waste a Night by Kings of Leon “simply based on your reaction to it at the concert.”

“It’s actually Girl Crush by Little Big Town.” You nodded,l to yourself, waiting for a laugh or even an unenthused ‘really?” but it never came.

“Great song.” He nodded, like he was making a mental note of the song

“I’m confident in this one.” You smiled smugly, “Your favorite band is Fleetwood Mac.”

“One of them, definitely. Huge influence growing up and getting into music. Good thing we aren’t keeping score, ‘cause I’d be out for the count.”

“All those years being a fan are finally paying off. But, because I’m off the record winning and feeling very generous, I’ll give you give three extra assumptions – uninterrupted. Go.”

“You can’t put me on the spot like that! Okay, um your favorite food is rice?”

You looked at him quizzically, “How-“

“You ordered extra rice with dinner. Educated guess.” He shrugged before moving onto his next one, scrunching up his nose like he knew this one would be wrong “You have a dog?”

“Wrong. No dogs allowed in the apartment. Bri’s allergic. Leaning towards getting a kitten soon tho!” you grinned, excited by the thought of having a sweet lil bub prancing around your apartment.

“A cat person, duly noted.” Smiling, he tucked some hair, that had been blown into his face by the increasing wind, back behind his ear, ““Alright.” he sat quiet for a moment, thinking of his next comment, “You’re an only child.”

There it was. The question that you dreaded but always gets asked. You should have known it was coming at some point soon, considering you had been talking to each other about your personal lives, including families, for almost an hour. It was normal; the person you were making friends with wanting to know about your family. But it made the knot in your stomach zoom up into your throat. You could go one of two ways, give Harry the full truth like you know he would want, or the less painful way and tell a white lie. He wouldn’t even know if it was a lie, right? I mean, it’s not like he would dig into your family history. Mentally you sighed, deciding that telling the truth was the only option. It wasn’t something you wanted to hide. It didn’t seem fair.

“False. I um, I have a brother and a sister.”

“Really? What are they like?”

“Well, my sister Morgan is 20 and she goes to school at The Medical University of South Carolina. She wants to be a pediatrician.” you grinned, thinking about her in the Winnie the Pooh scrubs she showed you last night.

“And your brother?” Your smile slowly faded and suddenly the body of water next to you was the most interesting thing you’ve ever seen. Did you want to do this? Share this with someone you really barely knew? Hell, you didn’t even like talking about this with Grimmy or the girls. Licking your lips and taking a deep breath, you decided what to do.

“Brandon’s my older brother. He’s honestly the best person I’ve ever known. He went to The School of Visual Arts in New York. He wanted to be a videographer. He was amazing.” you paused, glancing over at Harry, who was intently waiting for you to finish talking. The gleam in his eyes was present when he noticed your use of the past tense, silently understanding what that meant. “He was the kind of guy you just wanted to be friends with, ya know?” you continued, “Like he could talk about sports with you for hours, but you wanted to talk about music? He knew that too. Art? Cars? He was your guy. He just got along with everyone.”

“Well, he sounds fantastic.” Harry nodded, reaching across the table to grab your hands

“He is - was.” you gently shook your head, “He um, he passed away almost 3 years ago. I think everything just got to be too much for him? I’m still not entirely sure.”

The waves softly crashed to your left and you could hear the hustle and faint bustle of the street to your right, but the two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a moment. “I’m sorry. This isn’t a very fun conversation to be having on a lunch date.” you let out a small fake laugh but he shook his head

“No, it’s alright. I’m glad you felt comfortable enough to tell me. Means a lot.” he smiled, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand.

The two of you sat quietly for a moment, enjoying each other’s company, and you noticed Harry’s hand still resting on yours. It was big enough to almost engulf yours entirely, and it gave off a nice wave of heat. Just enough to make you forget about the chilling wind that blew past the two of you. Your waitress had come to drop of your bill and much to your protest, Harry had insisted that he pay. Something you knew he would try to do from the moment he asked you to lunch. So, you didn’t let him push you. Before he handed his card to the waiter, you slipped your card into the small black folder and insisted that the bill be split in two. He gave you a pointed glance and shook his head, but you knew he wasn’t too upset. After all, his hand never faltered.

“Thank you for coming today. I know you were probably pretty weirded out being asked to lunch with some guy you barely knew. But I really enjoyed it.”

“Oh, it was super weird. Considering the guy in question was someone I’ve looked up to for like 7 years.” you giggled, slightly embarrassed, “But I’m glad you did. It was fun. Plus, now Nick can stop making fun of me for not having any friends in LA.”

He shook his head, pushing his chair out so he could stand, “God, Nick, ever the passionate one.” He moved behind you quickly so that he could pull your chair out.

“Did I tell you he tried to give me a speech about you this morning? How you’re famous and always have people watching.”

Harry gaped at you, “You taking the piss? He sat me down in the kitchen yesterday. Told me I had to remember you ‘aren’t used to the limelight, so be careful’. Like I was planning on taking you to a red carpet or something.” He chuckled, “I had to remind him it was just lunch.”

“He just tries to go all brotherly on me since – “ you paused, talking a deep breath, “Since Brandon’s not around to do it. At least that’s his reasoning. He may be a pain sometimes, but he means well.”

Coming to the front doors of the restaurant, a sad feeling radiated over your body. You lunch with Harry was coming to a close, and he had said he was going back to London next week, so you didn’t know if this was the last time you’d be seeing him for some time. And you quiet enjoyed your time together today. He cleared his throat and chuckled beside you before opening the front door,

“So… a lunch date huh?”

Tag List: @emotionally-imbruised @theasstour @swayingnoodlelove @movingalong3 @staceystoleyourheart @north1692 and the lovely @isitstraightvodka @isitjamiemoriarty @meet-me-in-the-kitchen @meetyourmouths for always being so wonderful and supportive and just great pals💛

[eyesofsteelandsky]

FFxivWrite2018: Prompt 3

A rattle through the floating wagon brought on by a startled chocobo nearly knocked the cigar from Brem’s lips, earning a slam of her fist against the wood of the bench next to her. “Keep that moronic bird under control! I’m payin’ you to transport this, not bloody scramble it!” The woman’s mixed visage set back to the crate at the center of the wagon, unmarked and large enough to fit a full grown roe inside. There were a few other bits of cargo scattered through the wagon, but it was all mostly to serve as a distraction from the primary cargo. Various goods that Blast Lambda Holdings nominally dealt in, least as far as the tax collectors were concerned. Getting that crate delivered would maybe let her finally relax, getting caught out in the open with it was an absolute nightmare scenario.

“Sorry boss! Cactaur spooked it! We’ll be up at the bridge checkpoint soon, guards should be keeping things in check!”

Any consideration of relaxing is pushed aside on that note. They were likely to get flagged for inspection. Quotas to meet and they were traveling on a normally light day for it. Her gut’s rewarded for it’s guess by the wagon stopping not long after the sand gave way to stone, and the tiny tanned face of a lalafell hopped up into the back of the carriage. “Flame corporal Lulutegi, you’ve been randomly selected for a checkpoint inspection. Let’s make this quick and painless.”

The roe shoots a smile out to the dutiful lalafell standing in front of her, thankful that a half metal face made for less real estate she had to keep from radiating withering death out the the lawman. “Evenin’ officer. Ain’t haulin’ anything too fancy, and we got our papers in order.” Even as she spoke, a gloved hand dipped into the giant’s jacket to pull out a few signed and stamped scrolls bound in leather. “Cactus apples, some spirits, and a box of jewelry on their way up to Ishgard. A rush order for some party a noble’s throwin’ on a whim. You know how the rich folk get..” A massive leather boot comes to brace down against an edge of the largest crate, throwing a silent barrier to that particular inspection.

The dunesfolk man flips through her documents, everything was done up properly, which was in itself a little suspect for cargo coming out of Ul’dah. “Seems like you got your dodos in a row, miss. It’s customary for us to pop open and have a peek when it comes to foodstuffs though. Can’t have someone trying to sneak around a tariff, right?” He pats a small crowbar hanging from his belt as he finishes speaking, an imp-like grin stretching over his features.

There’s one last slow draw on her cigar before she tosses it over the wall of the wagon and on off the edge of the bridge. A couple of loosened buttons later and the long red duster the sea wolf had been traveling in fell open, letting one hand draw past the grip of an utterly absurdly sized revolver and sets upon a sack of coins clipped just beyond it. “It’s a good custom, I’m sure. Everyone pays their dues one way or another in Thanalan. On that point, I suspect there’s some more productive things for a man of your office to be doing than digging through prickly fruit. Perhaps I could leave a.. deposit for those tariffs, and if I don’t make it back I’m sure you can make sure it ends up in the right hands.” A sharp tug snaps the bag from her belt, and she tosses it forward onto a barrel between her and the tiny lawman. “Wouldn’t want to keep my noble friends waiting on something so.. customary.” Her gloved palm comes back to rest on her hip, a few ilms shy of that revolver.

Lulutegi waddles his way up to that sack of gil, weighing it while his eye plays out over the roe’s weapon. “You know, I think this should cover any.. potential violations. The Sultanate appreciates you making this a swift matter. Safe travels to Ishgard, miss!” He manages to not let a greedy giggle slip out until he’s hopped out of that wagon and started speeding off back to his office. After a quiet prayer to the predictable greed of Ul’dah, the roe hammers her fist on the bench a couple more times. “Get moving before someone sprouts morals.”

It’d been the better part of a bell since the roe and her crate had hopped off wagon and she’d started dragging it through the Shroud. Rope had put fresh roughness on her well-worked palms by the time she was forcing up the front door to the hovel she’d been heading to the whole time. Roughly half an airship hull reworked into something akin to a house, though a particularly small one. A couple more doors and a fight with a corner and she hauled her charge into the deepest part of that ramshackle building, into a room that once was a captain’s cabin. Much of that home to that point had been functional; objects to barricade doors, food and drink, some basic furniture and a pile of clothing. The final room though was a whole other matter.

Pink shelves, pink nightstands, a pink dresser, a pink spread over a bed finished with pillows of one of the other great themes of the room. Two fluffy moogle heads sit at the top, matching the rug through most of the free space in the room and the large seat in the corner of the room. A larger than life statue of a moogle is set nearby, and there’s many a moogle in the army of plushies throughout. On shelves, scattered over the bed, hanging off the sides of it, even a few setting over on that novelty couch and various others sitting on the floor when there was no room left. From magical and mythical beasts to everyday critters, even a few of famous souls within the land of Eorzea and beyond. It’s beyond dozens, likely closer to hundreds, ranging from pristine and set high on display shelves to some that look almost more patch than plush from years of service.

Ignoring it all though was the towering air pirate and hardened criminal ex-con, furiously working through getting that crate ripped open just on raw brawn. A satisfying crack and a creak of wood get the top of the packaging removed and tossed aside, letting her brightly smiling visage look down at her smuggled goods. Bending down she wraps both arms around a titanic moogle, nearly as tall as the roe herself when counting the wobbling pom. 

There’s a moment spared for a squeezing hug, thinking back to the moment she’d received that gift at the home she had taken too most nights, and the two faces there to share it. She could have left the giant toy there, claimed it was Sana’s if anyone asked. She was certain the miqo’te would have been fine with it, and she’d get to enjoy it more often. The two of them hadn’t passed judgement when they saw this wonderland of a bedroom, her best hidden secret, and probably would be happier if she didn’t feel the need to run off to visit it. But there was something special about this tiny realm she’s built for herself, a portal away from the rest of life to just indulge in one of the few things she didn’t allow herself elsewhere.

The release of that hug was her setting her roe-sized moogle down into one of the few empty stretches of floor she had left, and immediately gave a squeeze at it’s ear to start the aetheric light show of dancing moogles around it. The sea wolf flops down onto the floor in front of it, watching the display with that same wide, goofy smile, letting names for the addition to her mog family play through her head.

[weirdfetishes123]

Wonka's New Hires - deviantart

Jake had been getting bored at his office and decided he needed to start searching for a new job. He was 25, a few years out of college and felt his career was going nowhere. His buddies Connor and Deke were eager for a change of scene too, and wanted to work somewhere exciting. They had heard that the Wonka Corporation was having a jobs fair and there would be a big information session about special new job opportunities within the company. Wonka Corp. specialized in new nutritional biotech science and had a sprawling campus where they conducted research, development, and production. It was a place many people wanted to work at, but always had very few job openings. “Dude, Wonka is one of the coolest biotech firms out there!” Deke had excitedly told his friends. “I bet there will be hundreds of guys there, so many people would kill to work for Wonka Corp.” replied Connor. “Ok cool! We should go check it out,” said Jake, knowing that a position there would be the job opportunity of a lifetime. That morning of the job fair Jake trimmed his dark brown beard, combed his hair and put on his nicest dress shirt, tie, and khakis. He had to suck in his tummy as he buttoned his too-tight pants, but it was important to look professional. He actually thought he looked pretty cute all dressed up. Soon the three guys were on their way to the Wonka Corp. campus. The campus was like a Silicon Valley fantasia, full of gleaming stainless steel buildings, each more bizaire and beautiful than the last. “Imagine what it must be like to work here!” Said Jake, imagining all the futuristic tech inside the Wonka Corp. buildings. They drove past several checkpoints and many security cameras before finally parking at the venue for the job fair. They were shown into a great glass auditorium by a series of men in matching uniforms who took their names and fingerprints. “These are some weird workers,” whispered Connor. Each of them was just barely 5’ tall, and had orange-hued skin and green-tinged hair cropped into a crew cut. Their uniforms were dark green skin-tight spandex bodysuits, with “WONKA CORP.” written on the front and O.L. on the back. The short men were also surprisingly muscular, with thick biceps and pecs that pushed against their tight uniforms. “Pretty eccentric workers,” added Deke. The glass auditorium was full of Wonka Corp shareholders, company staff, and potential new hires. Lots of people in the audience looked tense and excited. They were hoping maybe to get hired but also were excited to see the CEO himself. As the three guys sat down Jake felt his belt dig into his sides and belly. He had always been a skinny boy, but recently he had begun to gain a bit of weight. He was up to 230 pounds which made his 5’ 10” frame appear rather chunky, however he wore the weight well. Getting a bit fatter had even made Jake feel a bit more masculine. Suddenly a booming voice announced, “Presenting the C.E.O. of the Wonka Corporation, Doctor W. E. Wonka!” Jake and everyone rose and applauded as Doctor Wonka himself strode out onto the huge central stage. He wore a sharp purple three piece suit, and was accompanied by several of the short orange men in green suits. “Thank you everyone, and Welcome!” Wonka began, “Today is a very exciting day here at Wonka Corp. We are about to begin an entirely new business model and release an entirely new product line! This is not only a great investment opportunity for current and future shareholders, but we have three new long-term career positions available as well.” A hush went through the crowd. Only three new positions, the competition would be fierce.

Wonka went on, “We rarely hire new outside talent because of our own in-house workers,” he said gesturing to the short muscular men with orange skin, “Their DNA was actually developed by this corporation and their biology is one of our most important patents. Officially they are known as out Omnigenetic-Male-Polychromosomal-Active-Lescorporal-Agents, but I prefer the abbreviation Oompa-Loompa,” he added, winking at his patented workers, who laughed and smiled back. “Now to our hiring process. You may not realize this, but we have been profiling you all since you entered this facility. We can quickly research your background, history, health, age, and even waistline,” he added laughing. “As a matter of fact the selection process has already completed.” Everyone in the room gasped, shareholders and applicants alike. “You three!” Suddenly huge spotlights shinned down on Jake, Connor, and Deke. They were all stunned, this couldn’t be real. They hadn’t even submitted a resume and here Wonka had already hired them. “Come up here boys!” Wonka beckoned from the stage. As Jake and his friends walked up to the stage there was tense applause from the room. People were surprised, disappointed, but also intrigued. The Wonka Corporation always had surprises in store. As he walked up onto the stage Jake felt like he was in a dream. Wonka was impressive up close. He stood at least 6’4” tall, his purple suit was cut perfectly on his muscular body, and his chestnut hair was shaped perfectly without a strand out of place. He was flanked by Oompa Loompas who were starring at the three guys with huge grins. “Well first of all congrats boys!” Said Wonka, “Your profiles almost perfectly matched what we’re looking for, and we believe it’s important to hire guys who already are friends. We are prepared to offer you employment for as long as possible, compensation at the top of our pay scale, and all personal expenses covered. Do you think you’ll accept our offer?” There was a pause for a brief moment before Jake, Connor, and Deke, all yelled, “Yes!” “Excellent!” Said Wonka, just sign these formal contract that the Oompa Loompas are presenting. All three boys quickly signed their contracts, and shook Wonka’s hand. Cameras focused in on the chosen 3 boys. “Now your new positions will require you to undergo some simple physical procedures.” Continued Wonka, “These procedures will be necessary for you in your new positions at Wonka Corp.” Jake was confused. Physical procedures? Did he want them to lose weight or shave their heads? It seemed a strange job requirement. “Okay you first!” Said Wonka, beckoning Jake to the front of the stage. “You’re already a hefty dude aren’t you?” teased Wonka, poking Jake’s love handle. Jake laughed awkwardly, embarrassed that Wonka poked fun at his weight in front of all these people. “Now to get you ready for your new career!” said Wonka. An Oompa Loompa then handed him a gas mask attached to a small air canister. The canister said Wonka Bio-Conversion Gas. Jake had no clue what that meant. Wonka then placed the mask over the young man’s nose and mouth and flipped a switch on the canister. A bright blue and sweet-smelling gas began flowing into the mask. “Okay pal, just breathe deep” Wonka said. Jake had no idea what Wonk was doing, but he inhaled, and felt the blue gas fill his lungs. Then another breath. Then another. After thirty seconds of Jake inhaling the sweet blue gas Wonka removed the mask. Jake hadn’t noticed the change in his complexion that had taken place while he inhaled the gas, but everyone else in the room did. “Holy Shit. He’s turning blue.” “This is all supposed to happen” said Wonka patting Jake on the shoulder, “Don’t be nervous, just relax and enjoy this feeling.”

Jake suddenly felt a wave of arousal pass through his chubby blue body. His skin tingled all over, but he began to feel a strange and pleasurable sensation in his crotch. It was as if electricity was passing through his balls. Beads of sweat formed on his blue forehead, he found he was becoming hard and felt his dick swell up to full mast. “How are you feeling?” grinned Wonka. “I… I….” Jake didn’t want the crowd of people to notice the bulge in his khakis, but Wonka was staring at it. The tightness in his crotch was becoming uncomfortable, and Jake instinctively reached down to adjust himself. His hand touched his crotch looked down and he gasped. His package was huge. Jake’s average cock was now at least 10 inches long, twice as thick as it had been a few minutes earlier, and was straining the fabric of his pants. His balls were even more alarming. They had swollen up to the size of oranges and even as Jake looked down he could see them enlarging as big as grapefruits. The zipper on his pants snapped and the straining bulge of Jake’s briefs burst through his khakis. “Looks like you’re enjoying yourself” Taunted Wonka. “What the fuck man.” Said Connor, as he watched his buddy’s new enormous blue cock burst out of his pants. Then Jake felt his enormous balls begin to pulse. They pulsed more and more and as they did a strange pressure began to spread out through his body. “Oh no not more” pleaded Jake, “This is too weird,” “Just relax” commanded Wonka. Jake felt the pressure increasing throughout his body as his balls continued to churn. He looked down at his body and realized his belly was suddenly significantly bigger than it had been moments earlier. His body gurgled loudly and bulged out like rising bread dough. “Oh my god Jake! He’s blowing up!” yelled Deke One by one the buttons on Jake’s dress shirt burst off, exposing more and more of his swelling torso. “What’s happening to me???” cried Jake as his belt buckle snapped off and flew across the stage. Wonka just smiled as Jake’s body expanded faster and faster. It was really starting to look as if the young man had been hooked up to a powerful pump. His belly was inflating like a weather balloon and within a few moments Jake’s shirt had totally burst off his juggling blue form. His ass billowed out like two over pressurized exercise balls, his pecs blew up into fat man boobs. Looking down at his body inflating around him made Jake want to scream. He couldn’t become a blue fatass. “Someone help me!!!” Jake yelled out at the crowd, but everyone was too shocked by the spectacle of the ballooning blue boy to do anything. No one even tried to help him. Even Jake’s friends couldn’t take their eyes off their pal who was now bloating up almost as fat as a world champion Sumo wrestler. “How big is he going to get?!” Yelled Connor while Jake’s khakis began disintegrating as his thighs plumped up like fat sausages “This boy has a lot of growing yet to do,” Wonka winked, rubbing Jake’s ballooning belly and looking right in the panicked boy’s eyes. Jake’s eye color had now changed from dark brown to deep blue. By now Jake had a ninety inch waist and the pressure was unrelenting. He felt his watermelon sized nuts pulse harder and harder as the last of his clothing tore and fell away. Deke walked over to his helplessly inflating friend and gave Jake a reassuring pat on his back, “Don’t worry man, we’ll fix you,” Deke smiled. Jake just groaned as his rotund limbs were pushed up higher and higher by his bloating middle. “Actually man, you smell like blueberries.”

Wonka finally couldn’t contain his excitement. “You see!” Said Wonka to the stunned crowd, “Our patented Bio-Conversion-Gas has altered this young man’s genetics. We’ve introduced blueberry DNA into him and now his testes are producing blueberry juice hormones at an astounding rate! His balls will continue to pump his body full of delicious berry juice until he reaches capacity. Then we can harvest it and sell it. His body will swell right back up to replace whatever juice we extract, so this boy is now blowing up into a juice producing powerhouse!” Jake couldn’t believe it. The gas he inhaled had actually caused his balls to blow his body up like a juicy balloon. He was inflating with his own berry cum. At least it actually felt pretty good. The cameras focused in on Jake as he continued to expand. He was now totally naked and taller than even Wonka. His fat blue cock pointed blatantly out from his round body as the juice pumped it bigger and bigger. Already it was 4’ long and 2’ thick and showed no signs of slowing down. Earlier in his inflation his blue flesh had been soft and jiggly like a fat man. Now it was becoming tighter and tighter as the pressure of the juice inside him increased. “I’m getting too biiigggg,” Muttered Jake, now totally immobilized by his swelling blue flesh. Gradually the fat mounds of Jake’s moobs, belly, and ass, began to merge into a single round ball. As Jake passed 8’ tall any sign of his limbs disappeared and he became a turgid blue sphere with a head, feet and monstrously huge cock and balls. He moaned as he felt his feet leave the ground as his distended taint joined the curve of his body. He had bloated up so big he was totally helpless, completely at the mercy of the juice that was pumping into his straining body. A couple of the Oompa Loompas then rolled him forward onto his swollen belly. “Nooooo, help meeeee,” cried Jake as he was rolled like an actual ball. The Oompa Loompas then laughed rolling the helpless inflated boy back and forth around the stage while Wonka clapped. The muscular orange men in green spandex then began to sing among themselves. Oompa Loompa doompadee doo We've got a great big treat for you Oompa Loompa doompadah dee Now you’re a fat blimp you'll listen to me, What do you get when you swell so damn wide, Looks like your body could split down the sides, But we think you’ll like being a juicy balloon, And we’ll blow you up some more real soon. They continued to roll Jake as the room watched transfixed as the boy kept expanding. The pressure inside Jake was so intense he was becoming delirious. His blue skin was so sensitive as all the little hands groped and pushed him, especially his engorged cock and pulsing balls. “He’s gonna explode! Holy shit!” Yelled Deke as Jake grew beyond 10 ft tall and wide. “Oh hush,” Said Wonka, “What a needless waste of a productive juice balloon that would be. He grinned up at the tight and pulsing sphere that Jake had become, “Any second now…” Then like clockwork Jake’s balls pulsed one last time, and he stopped growing. He was inhumanly massive, over 12 ft tall and wide. He had woken up today with a 38 inch waist, now his waist was over 38 feet around. His cock was larger than an obese man and his bloated balls were almost the size of small cars. “Presenting our new blueberry boy!” Yelled Wonka, “He’s going to stay with our company for the rest of his life, we’ll keep him all nice and blown up, and harvest his juice to sell for a mere fraction of what conventional blueberry juice costs to produce. Wonka then ran his hand along Jake’s massively engorged dick. The blueberry shuddered and that was all it took. A firehose of blueberry juice shot out of Jake into the audience. His body shook and tingled as he had the most incredible orgasm in his life. It was a feeling so pleasurable he never could have even imagined it. The crowd was shocked. They were covered in sticky blue cum. But it tasted like heaven.

The crowd leapt to their feet in applause. Not only was the juice delicious but they realized what a scientific miracle this was, Wonka could make farming obsolete. Wonka Corp. Stock would be more valuable than gold. The fountain of juice slowed down and Jake moaned in pleasure and sensory overload. He was still an enormous blueberry, but he no longer felt like was about to burst. A couple Oompa Loompas rolled him backwards and vaulted up onto his enormous round tummy. They then laughed and bounced on the inflated boy as if he was a trampoline. Jake just watched them, unable to turn his head. So this would be his life now. Being a helpless balloon full of juice to be squeezed, teased, and jacked off. He zoned out, trying to get used to the feeling of being a massive ball. Moments later a scream brought Jake back to reality. Connor was screaming, “No don’t! No don’t!”. Jake couldn’t see them, but the Oompa Loompas rolled his body forward so he could look. Connor was being held in place by two muscular Oompa Loompas while Wonka placed the gas mask over the panicked boy’s face. A white gas then began to flow from the canister, and Connor was breathing so heavily he was forced to inhale it. “Just relax pal,” said Wonka, rubbing Connor’s shoulder as the boy gulped the gas into his lungs. After a minute Wonka took the mask off Connor. He moaned. “What the hell have you done to me?!” Wonka just smiled. Connor’s face became slightly paler, his olive skin becoming a bit more white and pasty. The frightened boy looked at his pale hands and breathed a sigh of relief, “I’m not turning blue!” he exclaimed. “Of course not,” Wonka said, “One blueberry is plenty.” Suddenly Connor moaned, and his cock and balls burst out of his pants. His dick was already over a foot long, and his balls were as big as grapefruits. And they were almost white. Then his belly began to bloat up. “Oh no oh no oh no!” yelled Connor, “I’m blowing up too! Help me someone!” But no one did, even Jake just watched in silent wonder as Connor’s swelling body burst out of his clothes. Within another minute the pale man was totally naked and almost totally round. “That’s it,” murmured Wonka rubbing Connors expanding tummy, “You’re a good blimp, you’re going to blow up nice and big for us.” Soon it just looked like he was a massive weather balloon being pumped full of air by a powerful compressor. Just his head, hands, feet, cock, and balls, stuck out from the enormous white sphere. Connor finally stopped swelling when he was almost as big as Jake, totally round and barely even recognizable as human. Then two grinning Oompa Loompas walked up and began to stroke Connor’s inflated cock. Within seconds a massive stream of white foam began streaming out of him, it landed on the stage and on the audience forming big fluffy piles. “This is the best whipped cream anyone will ever taste!” exclaimed Wonka as he licked his hand. “Our boys here are now blueberries and cream! The perfect combination!” The audience members began tasting Connor’s whipped cream as well, and they were amazed at how impossibly delicious it was. “Dude,” moaned the white balloon, “I’m so huge. This… this can’t be real. My body is literally full of pressurized cream.” “Don’t worry Connor,” smiled the blueberry boy at his friend, “This will be okay.” “How is this okay?” muttered the cream blimp, “They’ve blown us up into freaks. We’re not even men anymore, we’re desserts.” “At least it feels kind of nice,” The berry replied. Connor didn’t say anything, but it was true he had just had the most amazing orgasm of his life, and the sensation of his balls pumping his body full of whipped cream was truly incredible. The crowd was ecstatic from the showers of blueberry juice and whipped cream. However, the third man was still awaiting his fate, and Deke had been panicking as he had watched his friends get transformed into balloons before his eyes. “And lastly we have a very special plan for you too.” Wonka said, leering at Deke.

“No..No…No! Let me go! I’m a man! I’m a human! Please don’t blow me up like a fat freak!” Deke pleaded and struggled But the muscular Oompa Loompa held him tight. “You signed the contract” Taunted Wonka, and placed the gas mask over Deke’s crying face. A few deep breaths and his fate was sealed. Within a few seconds Deke’s package was bursting out of his pants and within a minute his entire body was blowing up as if there was an air hose in him. He inflated fat and round like the other two boys, but his skin stayed the same color. But then Deke floated off the ground. While Jake and Connor had been pumped full of heavy juice and cream and now each weighed thousands of pounds, Deke had become lighter than air. “Is he full of helium?” Shouted a man from the audience. “Have you turned this man into a literal balloon?” “Nope! Something even better!” Exclaimed Wonka. “Let me demonstrate.” Wonka walked over to the balloon that Deke had become. His inflated body was being held down by two Oompa Loompas who each held one of the balloon’s feet. A third assistant then came over to Wonka, and handed him a bucket. Wonka began to stroke Deke’s massively ballooned cock which bloated even bigger as waves of pleasure coursed trough the balloon boy. Within a minute the enormous cock sprayed a volley of clear bubbly liquid that fizzed like seltzer as it hit the ground. Wonka caught some of the frothy liquid in his bucket and handed it to the third Oompa Loompa. “You know what to do,” he winked. The Oompa Loompa drank the liquid down and threw the bucket on the floor. He was breathing hard. Suddenly he began to puff up. His belly rounded out into a smooth dome, his ample pecs and biceps swelled up like melons, and his ass expanded as if it were two balloons. But he didn’t totally inflate like Jake and his friends, the assistant’s body just puffed up like a powerlifter with an extreme gym bloat. “I can feel it coming!” He gasped. Then his body began to lift off the ground. The bloated Oompa Loompa laughed as he floated weightlessly over the crowd, gradually finding a balance and burping to stop rising too high. “It’s our newest miracle!” Wonka exclaimed, “This boy here now produces our wondrous Fizzy Lifting Drinks! Now anyone can buy a bottle and experience flying!” The crowd was ecstatic. Deke’s ballooned-up body was actually producing this miracle soda. “Now our Fizzy Lifting Drinks will bloat you up a little bit, but that will wear right off when they wear off within an hour. I don’t think anyone will mind getting a bit puffy for a few minutes if it means a chance to fly!” The bloated Oompa Loompa floating over the crowd was clearly having the time of his life “Now let’s show our boys off!” Exclaimed Wonka. The Oompa Loompas then pulled the floating soda balloon over to Jake. The berry was rolled forward so that his Jake’s face was right in front of Deke’s crotch. “No! No! No!” moaned Jake as Deke’s ballooned dick was forced towards his face. He had been blown up and humiliated enough, he didn’t even know if he was still human, but he knew he didn’t want to be forced to drink from his inflated buddy’s cock. That was just too much. The Oompa Loompas just laughed, Jake was a helpless blue ball and they could roll him around and play with him however they pleased.

“I’m sorry man! I can’t help this!” Yelled the helpless soda balloon as the tip of Deke’s cock was forced into Jake’s mouth. An Oompa Loompa stood on Jake and then rubbed Deke’s engorged dick. Immediately a torrent of Fizzy Lifting Drink was blasted into Jake. The blueberry groaned as he felt himself begin to expand once again. The soda mixing with his juice to froth and bubble and expand. The intense pressure returned and Jake felt himself blowing up even faster than when he was first inflated. The Oompa Loompas bounced up and down on the blue sphere as Wonka rubbed a hand along his inflating side. He realized again how helpless he was. They had transformed him from a handsome young man into an inflated freak of nature. He looked up in wonder at the swell of Deke’s body as the soda balloon continued to pump into him. Then the singing began again. Oompa Loompa doompadee doo We've got another surprise for you Oompa Loompa doompadah dee You’re our new toy so listen to me Hope that you like soaring up in the air Now we can take our big blimp anywhere Soon you’ll be almost as wide as the moon But we’ll bring you down and juice you soon. As they finished the torrent of Fizzy Lifting Drinks pouring into Jake slowed, and they pulled Deke’s inflated body away. Jake realized how much he had grown, he had to be over 20ft now, towering over the Connor cream blimp. Then suddenly he felt himself become weightless and his blueberry body lifted off the stage. The crowd went wild. This was truly incredible, the multi-ton blueberry boy was floating as if he was a parade balloon. The feeling was incredible. It was as if he was a heavy water balloon full of juice and a light helium balloon at the same time. His body was full of frothy and delicious blueberry soda foam. He couldn’t help but smile, he was flying without a care in the world, and the crowd loved him. Suddenly he saw a flash of white to his left and Connor floated up alongside him. The whipped cream balloon had also been pumped full of fizzy lifting drinks, and was grinning ear to ear. “Dude,” Jake said, “You look good. Lose some weight?” Connor laughed, “Yeah, never been lighter.” Then Deke floated up to join them, “Hey fellas, looking pretty swell.” They all laughed, “Thanks for the lift man,” Jake said to Deke. The three ballooned-up boys kept floating above the audience as Wonka addressed the crowd. “Thank you all for attending this very special moment for Wonka Corp. and we’re looking forward to lots of growth opportunities in the future!” The crowd applauded. “Our boys here will have fun floating until the soda wears off in a few hours. They’ll then be taken to their new facilities where they will be put to use producing our wonderful new products. But don’t worry, you’ll still see them! We’ll pump our boys up with Fizzy Lifting Drinks and parade them on tour frequently!” As the audience began to file out Jake thought about his new life. His inflated body was going to be juiced and pumped continuously, but he didn’t have to worry about anything except swelling and cumming. He looked over at his blown up friends floating and laughing and he smiled .It was going to be a lot of fun living life as an inflated berry boy.

[thatrangabirdlife]

Part 36: Rude Bird Guy

The best advice I ever received about how to handle the egotism & narcissism of these people, was from a sweet, lovely woman named Susan. She was the convenor for medical conference we ran on Women's Health. She had been head of the conference committee for years, involved in almost every sister event related to her field - and she was in the most difficult field of all. Medical.

I confided in her one evening post Welcome Function at the Pullman Albert Park, we were sitting outside in the smokers area when we were finishing off a bottle of the house white (the house white & red; that drinks that discussed over 2 conference calls and 6 emails debating ‘which beverage package will be used for the welcome function’ - one of the arduous undertakings when organising conference catering). I asked her “How have you been doing this for so many years? The annoying questions, the lack of common sense, the rudeness, the entitlement, the pretension, the ass-kissing. I don’t just don’t think I have it in me to keep doing this sort of work.” I admitted. “Emily, all you have to remember is…” She said and paused while she took a drag of her cigarette “... these guys were nerds in high school. They don’t have people skills.” She finished and blew the smoke out of the corner of her mouth. “And…” she said with pause as she took another drag, “Don’t take anything personally.”

She was right, they were nerds and they don’t have people skills. But the not taking anything personal part, I’ve got difficulties with. I mean, I understood what she was saying of course, I mean “don’t take it personally” is as clear as it gets. They say ‘do what you love and you’ll never work a day in your life’ They also say ‘don’t get emotionally invested in your job.’

In order to enjoy your job or chosen career, don’t you have to love it just a little bit? Doesn’t that then entail some form of emotional investment?

For example, say you’ve been worked tirelessly on the most tedious conference program of your career because despite your professional advice the convenors decided (and ofcourse later regretted) to allow the delegates who submitted an abstract and that were accepted into the conference program, that they could choose the day AND time that they would like to present. (This wasn’t nearly as bad as the other time that my advice was ignored, when the convenors decided to make all the people who submitted an abstract - all 786 of them - to review someone else’s paper; in other words, a shit show).

So you’re standing at your desk with 2 other colleagues, handing out individual name tags for the 200+ delegates who are lined up out the door & up comes a disgruntled, 40 something, ginger but balding man cutting in front of everyone, standing to the side of the desk and asks to speak to ‘someone in charge here.’ “In charge of the venue, or in charge of this conference?” I asked, fully knowing that he meant the conference, but when I’m approach liked that, I try and take the person down a peg or two first. (Not healthy, I know - but I seriously can’t stand rude people.) “This conference.” He said, realising that he wasn’t quite clear and may have been directing his rudeness to someone completely unrelated to his problem. Just for those seconds that you reply, their tone can completely change.” “Oh, to the conference” he clarified, with a smile.

“Oh, well in that case, I can help you.” I replied politely, trying to keep a more positive tone. “Oh. Well, I’ve got several abstracts in this conference…” he bragged (and I did an internal eye roll and sarcastic slow hand clap) “but not all of them are showing up in the app and I’d like it fixed immediately.” he said, rudely. His abrasive tone was like an ice pick, chipping away at the glacier that absorbed and frozen my heart and soul when I said yes to this job on the evening of the 7th of April 2012 sitting at a table at the The Boat Builders Yard, South Wharf where I was celebrating my 24th birthday.

Don’t take it personally, Emily. He’s just a nerd, Emily. He’s got no people skills, Emily. Don’t take it personally. “Oh, that’s no good” I said back to him, with a forced concerned look. The kind you give a child when they’ve misplaced something. “No, its not” he scoffed, with this side smirk that I really just wanted to dig a fisherman's hook into and pull it all the way to his ear. “I’ll be able to have a look at that for you. We are all a little tied up with registering all these people at the moment” I said with my customer service smile and gestured to the growing line of people out the doors. “If you wouldn’t mind coming back in 20 minutes just so I can give everyone their name badges they don’t miss out on….” “Now!” he demanded. (His demanding tone now a chainsaw hacking through the glacier surrounding my heart and soul; the fibre of my very being.) I knew exactly what I needed to check in the online system but I also knew how long that it would take to fix his problem & right now, my job was to give these people their name tags so they could have get access to the welcome function.

“Sir, I understand that…” “No, you don’t understand” cutting me off mid sentence with a his voice so loud that the people in the front of the line stopped talking, and even got my boss's attention from in the back office. “If you understood then you’d be doing it. If people search for my papers, they aren’t going to see all of them. Do you understand that?”

I stood there, feeling the blood rush to my cheeks as everyone started staring at me and egotistical verbal aggressor. I looked over to my right and saw my boss making his way over. “All right, what’s going on here” he said in a jovial tone to calm things down, he was truly great at doing that. “Not all of this gentleman’s papers are showing on the conference app.” I explained “And all the other papers are there, but they aren’t showing up on my profile.” He added, shedding some light on what the problem might be. “Hmm, well that’s not what you want, is it?” My boss said, jokingly. “See, he gets it.” Said the guy. I was fuming. He gets it? What the fuck don’t I get exactly, you condescending dickhead. I thought. My thoughts seriously get out of control when I’m raging internally and by out of control I mean, I pictured interlocking my fingers and wrapping my hands around the back of his head then pulling him down and smashing his face onto the desk so hard that his nose gets pushed into his face. While he’s still dazed and suffering,  I walk back a couple of meters to pick up our portable printer, the cord ripping out of the wall and flailing like a snake in the air behind me as he watches me walk back towards him. I swing the printer back behind me and clock him over the head with it, repeatedly. Think, the scene from Inglorious Bastards when you’re first introduced to The Bear Jew. I’m sick. I know.

“Hmm, we’d have to have a look in our online system what has happened exactly...hmm..” Said my boss, tapping his top lip as if giving the impression that he was pondering what the problem could be, while looking at me with the knowing glance that we both know that he doesn’t know how to use that part of the online system and that I would have to do it. “Hmm.. I’m just in the middle of something at the moment, sir” he said “why don’t you go into the welcome function and grab a drink, I’ll have a chat with Emily about what we need to do.” “Oh, I guess I can go and drink.” He said in a happy, joking tone, as if it were a chore. Like a ‘If I must..’ meaning and that pissed me off even more.

Oh everything’s now fucking hunky dory is it? You fucking pricckkk! I thought.

“I guess I’ll grab my name badge while I’m here then.” I thought, Oh now you want you’re fucking name badge? Cutting infront of all these people. Being a fucking asshole and now you want to get your namebadge before all these people that were waiting in line!? You’re a real piece of work, you know that! *I stand up on the desk, grabbing the P.A microphone, tapping on it, *tap tap tap*  HEY EVERYONE CAN I GET YOUR ATTENTION REAL QUICK, THERE’S AN IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT - THIS GUY RIGHT HERE WANTS TO LET YOU ALL KNOW THAT HIS TIME IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN YOURS AND THAT HE IS BETTER THAN ALL OF YOU. LET’S ALL PUT OUR HANDS TOGETHER, FOR THIS REAL PIECE OF WORK HERE!! LET’S GIVE IT UP FOR MR. BIG SHOT WOOOOO! *Applause*

“I said to him that I would fix it, but asked him to come back after registration just like you did!” I asked my boss. “Sometimes Red, people just need to feel like they are talking to the person that is running the show… but in this misogynistic jerk’s case, he needed to hear it from another man.” he said. “What an absolute tosser” he said, as he walked back into the office to continue whatever he was doing.

The guy didn’t come back until the next day. I was alone, working at the registration desk. “So have you fixed it yet?” I heard his voice, and closed my eyes and breathed through my mantra ‘Don’t take it personally, Emily, he’s just a nerd, Emily, he doesn’t have people skills, Emily.

“Not quite, but I’m glad you’re here. I’ve found the problem. You said you have several papers, correct?” I asked. “Yes, 7 to be exact.” I said. “Ok, well I can only see 3 here under your name…” I said and turned the screen of my laptop around so he could view what I had found” “JESUS CHRIST” he scoffed “Didn’t you hear me? I just said I have 7 papers!”

I’m raging again. Picturing a scene, like a 300 fighting scene style, where it’s normal speed reaching for my fresh black coffee, then it’ slow motion as the scolding hot liquid burns his eyeballs. Back to normal speed while he is screaming and clawing at his burning eyes, as I reach my hand to the back of my head and grab the freshly sharpened staedtler HB pencil that’s holding my hair bun in place & pull it out. I swing my arm out, then its back to slow motion, my hair unravelling past my shoulders, down my back. Blood is squirting out onto my face from the multiple stab wounds from the pencil to his jugular.

“Sir, I’m here to help you.” I said back bluntly. “Then help me.” He replied with a cocky tone. *Just breathe Emily. Don’t take it personally, Emily. He’s just a nerd, Emily. He doesn’t have people skills, Emily. Just breathe*

“It shows here, that you have uploaded 3 papers.” “But there is suppo….” He said with an upward inflection. “Let me finish” I said, cutting him off this time.

“You are the leading author on these papers. I’ve searched the other paper titles you gave, and you are listed as the CO-Author.” I said, strongly emphasising the ‘co’ part. “Is that correct? That you are not the lead author on these other 4 papers?”

“Well, that shouldn’t matter. They should be all be showing on my profile.” he admitted.

“You’re absolutely right, they should all be showing on your profile. I just need you to confirm that you aren’t the lead author on these others papers. Is that correct? “They are my students” he replied. “Well, that makes sense.” I said. “When your students uploaded their papers, each one of them listed your name differently.” I explained, pointing to the screen. “This one entered your name as your Initials & Surname, this one here entered your Full name, this one here misspelled your surname and finally, this one entered your surname where your first name should be and your first name where your surname should be.” He let out a loud sighed and shook his head in disbelief. “Did you tell them that they needed to use the email address that you used for your registration and abstract submissions?” I asked in my customer service tone. Before he could answer, I said “because that’s how they system is able to link them all together - by all the basic information being correct.” “I told them to do that.” He said, still shaking his head.

“No reason for blame, it was a simple mistake and it's a simple fix. Moving forward, you can ask your students to adjust this in their profiles, or I can fix this for you right now. Would you like me to fix this for you?” I said in my customer service tone.   “Yes. Please.” He mumbled in shame.

I turned the computer screen back to face me and fixed the submission error within a couple of clicks. “Here we go.” I said, turning the screen back so he could see his online profile. “There are your t-h-r-e-e papers, and here are your other four CO authored papers. Okay?” I said, with him seeing right through my customer service tone, hearing my ‘eat shit, you prick’ tone. “Great.” He said and knocked on the bench with his knuckles as if they were a gavel and he was saying ‘case closed.’

One last thing on this guy to wrap this story up. A couple of days later, my boss ran into him waiting in line for the men's room at the conference dinner that was held at the Cairns Cruiseliner Terminal.

I saw my boss walking out of the mens room with him, they were a both a couple of drinks down. They were both laughing as they parted, but my boss expression turned sour as soon as the guy had walked out of site. “Ran into your mate in the toilet” He said.

“Ha, oh yeah - what’dee have to say?” I asked. “He goes, ‘Gee, that red head at the front desk sure has a problem with apologising doesn’t she?”

“You’re kidding me” I laughed “Seriously.” He laughed back

We were both looking the guy when he looked over to us. We raised our glasses to him, as if to say cheers, then we disguise our mouths with our glasses as we took a sip. “Absolute dickhead” said my boss “Total wanker” I said.

The next day at the rego desk I fired up my laptop and sussed out this bloke and what he actually did. He studies bird mating behaviour. This guy, this big shot ordering me around and talking to me like I’m a piece of shit has literally spent his career watching, learning, writing and talking about birds fucking. I mean, imagine telling your parents that you’re writing a thesis on birds fucking. Perhaps they didn’t take it so well. Perhaps his mum laughed at him? Maybe his dad didn’t take him seriously -  perhaps that’s why he’s so angry.

Either way, Mr. Big shot spent his career studying birds fucking. I found solace in that.

[percywinchester27]

Tic Tac Toe (Part-31)

Word count: 4.6k

Pairing: Sam X Reader

Warnings: Angst, Kidnapping, Graphic violence, blood and injury.

Series Summary: The reader shifts into a new city after being offered a dream job by a big firm. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect after an ugly break-up with a douche-bag Ex. But things turn out not as dreamy as she’d want them to be and the only thing that keeps her smiling is a totally coincidental game of Tic Tac Toe.

A/N: It’s taken a lot of effort to both write this chapter and post it. And not just by me, but by both my betas too <3

Beta: @sdavid09 and @deanssweetheart23. You girls are a blessing. Despite being so busy, thank you for reading this at the last minute, Shanna. And Athina, I just hope you get better soon, thank you for reading this despite being unwell. This one is for you girls <3

Please consider leaving some feedback! Pretty PLEASE?

Catch up: Part 1, Tic Tac Toe Masterlist

Sam’s POV:

Sam was sitting on the couch, elbows resting on his knees and hands clasped in front his face. His lips rested on his intertwined fingers, a silent, desperate prayer continuously leaving from them.

The moment Sam had asked Phil to call Jody, Phil's training as a skilled bodyguard had overtook him. He'd scanned the whole house up and down, ripped curtains and moved furniture.

But Sam? He'd known something was wrong the minute he'd seen that game. The phone conversation hadn't made anything better.

"Sam?" Jody asked genially. "How are you?"

"It's Y/N," he croaked. "She's missing. Someone took her."

"Missing?" Her voice had immediately taken a professional edge. "When was the last she had been seen?"

"Uh… I don't know," he ran his fingers through his hair. "Around lunch time she had picked the keys from my neighbor's house. She and my dog have been missing since."

"What was she wearing?" Jody asked.

"Hang on," Sam put the phone on speaker and repeated the question to Steve who promptly launched in a description of what Y/N was looking like that day. Black skirt and white flowing blouse. Steve also described what Sophie looked like which was well, because Sam wasn't sure he could speak anymore.

"What makes you think someone kidnapped her?" Jody's voice was sharp.

He couldn't explain about the game or even the necklace. "I just know," he all but sobbed. "Just find her."

"Okay. I'll put an APB out on her, and I'm coming over right now to see if there's any evidence or signs of struggle in your apartment."

"Okay."

Jody had arrived a short time later with an entire team, and mechanically Sam had repeated the story behind the games and the locket. Jody hadn't looked entirely convinced but Phil had ushered her inside the house, whispering something urgently.

Sam couldn't bring himself to care where he was taking her. He couldn't bring himself to even breathe.

"Sammy!"

Sam looked up to see Dean rushing past the officers towards him, his face chalk white.

Suddenly Sam felt like an 8 year old. Jacob from the 6th grade had stolen his bicycle and pushed him into the ditch. Sam had ran all the way home and hugged Dean tight, sobbing hard. His cycle was all he'd had and someone had yanked it away. Dean had soothed Sam, telling him it was okay to cry as long as he found it in himself to fight for what was his. The next day the two of them had walked to Jacob's house and, with a little encouragement from Dean, he had taken back what was rightfully his.

Sam wanted to go hug his brother, and ask him to fix everything for him like he always did. But Sam couldn't even stand without his legs giving away. This wasn't 4th grade and it wasn't about a piece of metal. Y/N was his life.

Dean crouched down before Sam. "Hey, look up."

Sam didn't.

"Sammy, we're going to find her, man." Sam knew his brother too well to know every inflection in his voice. Dean was trying to reassure himself as much as he was trying to assure Sam.

Before Sam could respond, Jody came out, her face somber.

"You think someone else might have a bone to pick with her?" She asked.

"So, you believe me? You didn't look convinced a minute ago."

She gave Phil a hard look, and he turned his eyes away from Sam. "You didn't tell him?" She asked Phil.

"Tell him what?" Dean questioned, standing up to face Jody.

She sighed. "There's a huge blood stain on the carpet around the corner to the library. It isn't exactly fresh, but it's definitely less than half a day old. Someone had moved a piece of furniture to cover it."

"Blood? Whose blood?" Dean's voice was an octave higher, from both fear and anger.

"I can't say for sure. There was a lot of blood there, and some stains behind the wall, along with dark animal hair. Could have been anyone, really."

Sam heard the conversation, but the words seemed to be coming from another reality. This whole scene seemed to be straight out of a horror show.

Then it struck him.

"Wait…" He rasped. "You said, 'else.' You said 'who else do you suspect?' What did you mean by that?"

She looked at him like it was the most obvious thing. "Walker, of course."

"Walk- what?" Sam stuttered. "Isn't he in the prison?"

"No. He was bailed out a month ago."

What the hell? "Weren't you supposed to tell me that?" Sam said, his tone angry.

"You think I didn't try, boy?" She shot back. "I called you so many times, I lost count. And I left messages on your phone, too. I thought you'd have bothered to check them by now."

Sam's face crumpled. Of course she had tried. He'd been so busy with work that he'd barely checked his phone.

She sensed his pain, and softened her voice. "I'm sorry, Sam. I really am. But I'm doing everything I can to find her. I have the entire police department looking for Gordon Walker right now."

"What about that Bela?" Dean interrupted. "She had a bone to pick with Y/N. She could have been involved."

"I'll need to know more about her, too, then." She turned towards Sam. "We'll find your girl, Sam. We will." She clapped his back once and then she was out.

"I'm going to go with her, and keep you guys updated about what happens, okay?" Phil reassured, clasping his shoulders and following Jody.

Sam sank back into the sofa, the little package in his pant pocket, digging in painfully. Dread was overcoming him in new bouts.

Blood?

What had happened to his perfect life?

"Sam? SAM!"

Blinking, he looked up to see Dean calling his name, looking scared.

How long had he been calling him? How long had it been since Jody had left?

"Sam," A new, soft voice called, and through the unshed tears, he recognized the familiar face of his red headed friend. Charlie was crying too and she looked ready to go into shock any minute now.

Sam had no idea when she had come in. Before he knew it, her small arms were wrapped around his shoulder, offering comfort, maybe expecting some in return. But there was nothing he could do except feel numb.

"I'm so sorry," Charlie was whispering. "But we're going to find her. They're going to be okay. Y/N is stubborn. She's a fighter, if I ever knew one. You know that."

Charlie wiped her tears, trying to put on a brave smile. "And you know how Sophie is. She always comes back. The sheer number of times that we've lost her. Remember two years ago we were in a park and she disapp-" Abruptly Charlie stopped, then gasped.

"Sam!" She shook him violently. "Remember that time we lost Sophie? You went so berserk that we went and got that tracker chip installed in her collar."

Sam's head whipped around, the sudden jolt in his stomach sparking some emotion.

Charlie jumped to her feet, looking from one side to another. "Where the hell is your computer?"

For a second Sam couldn't gather his wits. "I- It's in my bag. But the battery is dead." Both of them knew that it took ages to charge.

"I have one running next door," Steve said quickly. "C'mon."

Charlie followed him out of the door and so did Sam and everyone else, thoughtlessly.

Sam watched with bated breath as they worked their magic, both taking two different computers and hacking into Sam's history through his IP to find the tracking program that had been buried deep, because it had been over a year since Sam had to look at it.

"There!" Charlie pointed to a blinking point on the map. "That's where Sophie is."

"Where is it?" Sam asked, letting some hope seep into his chest.

She tapped the spot on the screen once more. "An hour out of town, towards north. It's that debunked industrial zone full of warehouses."

"What are we waiting for?" Sam shouted. "Let's go."

Charlie hesitated. "Uhh… Sam. The dot is not moving."

It took a minute before the implication behind her words struck him. It felt as if a stone had dropped through his stomach. Sam gulped harshly, and then said again. "Let's go. NOW."

************************************

The car was moving too slowly. Dean was pushing the Impala to its limits but it wasn't fast enough.

Charlie was muttering directions from the backseat as she kept a constant watch on the blinking, unmoving dot when it got closer and closer, while Dean ripped the car through the night road, a furious expression on his face.

Sam didn't know what expression his face held, but his grip on the window frame never loosened, even if the glass edges were beginning to make painful dents in his skin now.

"You know what, Sam?" She asked, smiling softly

"Yeah?" He glanced at her from the passenger's seat.

"I've always wanted to do this."

"Do what? Drive a jaguar?"

"No. Have hot illegal sex in the backseat of the car," she smirked.

Sam could feel blood rushing to his cheeks. "W-we haven't done that," he stuttered and her grin grew more pronounced.

"Yet!" She cocked an eyebrow. "We are heading into the garage now, you know!"

Sam just couldn't look away. The way her smile had the ability to make him forget every problem was nothing short of magical.

"I was actually talking about this," she gestured around him with one hand as they eased to a stop in the traffic. Phil had taken a day off and Sam had suggested that Y/N drive them back home. The way her eyes had lit up at that had been a sight to behold and Sam wanted to congratulate himself on getting one thing right.

It had taken a little explaining with all the gears and how the key slot was in a different place, but she drove the thing like a pro. The excited smile seemed permanently plastered on her face.

"This?" Sam asked again, expecting another smartass response. Instead, her eyes glazed over.

"I meant having you in my life. You must have noticed by now that I'm a very steady person, and for a long time, I used to think that it makes me boring, you know? And I hate to admit it now, but there was a part of me that thought Michael cheated on me because he found me uninteresting. After that, I never thought I'd have something so beautiful in my life."

She was looking straight ahead, but Sam could hear the waver in her voice. She was fighting to keep it steady. Either she still believed that she was boring, or that she didn’t deserve living like this, and neither of those was acceptable.

"Hey, look at me," Sam said, "You're the light of my life. It's okay to be steady, and there's nothing I would want to change about you."

Y/N nodded, still looking straight ahead.

Sam put a hand on one of hers, where it rested on the gear stick. "I love every little thing about you. You are beautiful just the way you are, Y/N. I can't imagine living without you."

The truth of his own admission caught him by surprise. She had dissolved herself in his life so bindingly, there was no separating them now. His life would lose its essence without her. It wouldn't even be life anymore.

She looked at him then, eyes watery. "I'm just scared this is too good for me," she whispered.

She had that backwards.

The car cruised into the garage slowly and she parked it in the slot perfectly. Sam reached out and pulled her into his lap, finding her lips in a desperate kiss. Desperate because he wanted to somehow convey just how good she was. It was easy to be smart, easy to be beautiful. What set her apart was how good she was in her heart. Kind and loving.

Just because she had had the bad luck of meeting that dick, who didn't treat her right, she shouldn't be feeling this way.

And then, she kissed back, challenging him to prove it, challenging him to make her see she was worth it.

Sam's hand fisted in her hair and he pulled her impossibly close in the cramped space. The other hand dug into the skin of her lower back through the fabric. This was different than every other kiss. It was frantic, like she wanted him to remember, and messy like it was a first time. They were both hot and sweaty within minutes, but neither wanted to back down.

"I love you," Sam repeated urgently. "I need you to believe that you're it for me, Y/N."

She never let her guard down like that with him. Whenever he'd needed, she had been his strength, standing right next to him. To think that even a little part of her doubted if she was enough for him was blasphemous.

"You believe me, don't you?"

She just kissed him harder, and he had to push her back a little. "I need you to believe me."

Sam lowered his head to meet her gaze. Her eyes seemed like watery crystal, a little scared but brimming with love. While he was searching for his answers there, she seemed to find hers in his.

At long last she nodded, and threw her arms around his waist.

"I never wanna be away from you," she mumbled.

Sam knew she was just as worried about the presentation on Monday, and a part of her still wasn't convinced that his decision to give up the CEO's position wasn't because of her.

He kissed her hair, wrapping his arms around her. One of his hands slipped under her blouse, and unclasped her bra, rubbing circles into the skin of her back. He knew that it always calmed her down. "You won't have to be."

Sam held her like that till her breathing eased, till her shoulders relaxed. Till she stirred against him.

"We should go up," she sighed. She seemed just as unwilling to let go of him.

Sam smirked, knowing exactly how to get her to smile. "Hey, what about the hot illegal car sex you promised?"

She looked up and Sam noticed with a smug satisfaction that there was shock all over her face.

"You're kidding. The security is like 50 feet away. You wouldn't dare." Y/N raised an eyebrow, trying to call out his bluff.

Sam shrugged slyly. "They don't have to know." With one quick motion, he tugged at the knot of her blouse, making it fall apart from her shoulders, then drew her closer, his lips grazing her ear. "Just don't make a single sound."

The blaring noise of sirens pulled Sam back to reality, jerking him. That was the sound of his nightmares, the fire brigade siren.

His hands instinctively shut his ears, and he realized that Dean was maneuvering the car towards the sirens. Why would he? Dean of all people knew what that sound did to him. It rendered Sam helpless.

Sam turned to look at his brother, to ask him why they were heading that way, but the look on Dean's face silenced him. Behind him Charlie seemed to be drawing shaky, muffled breaths too. They weren't passing by the fire sirens, they were heading towards it.

Sophie.

Up ahead, the building was up in flames. An orange, fiery, red blaze was consuming the northern facade. Sam flattened back against his seat, his heart accelerating to double its speed.

"Sam," Dean shook him by his sides. "The tracker ends here." He let Dean drag him out of the car. Every nerve of his body was fired up, telling him to run in the opposite direction, away from the prickling heat, but he knew he had to do the right thing.

The logical part of his brain was analyzing the situation, noting that the ladders were just being drawn out, the men were still unrolling the hoses. It couldn't have been more than a few minutes since their arrival. Either the fire had just erupted or they had been notified late. Either way, Sam averted his gaze from the building, looking around for his dog. She had to be somewhere close.

She couldn't have been inside, right? The sensors on the tracker would have melted if Sophie had been anywhere close to the fi- … No, he mustn't think this way. Sophie had to be out somewhere. He stumbled along with Dean and Charlie, looking around, trying his best to not look at the roaring fire.

In his peripheral vision, he saw a fireman accost Dean. His brother was quick to explain what had happened and they were following the dog's tracker. Before the man could object to their presence, Charlie smoothly followed Dean by bullshitting about how Jody was family and they had been allowed here.

Sam didn't pause to give explanations.

There was no point in calling out loud over the roar of fire, or the noise of the sirens. Even if it could help, Sam was sure no voice would leave his throat.

The razing building seemed to be a warehouse, and all around it tall, wild grass covered the land for acres at a stretch till the highway. Sam's breath was coming out in bursts now, as he looked around, running away from the north side, the fire, everything.

"Sam!" Charlie called, coming up from behind him. "Look there!"

Along the southern edge of the concrete monolith, huddled by the sides of a faded blue car was a dark form, darker even than the darkness shrouding this side.

Without thinking, Sam's feet rushed towards it and sure enough it was his beloved German Shepherd, lying on the dusty floor, eyes closed.

"No… no…." Sam pleaded lowly, coming to crouch next to her. "Sophie!" He shook her lightly, noting with some relief that she was still breathing. A ragged cloth was wrapped around her flak that seemed to be caked with dried blood. "Is she gonna be okay?" Sam asked Charlie desperately, knowing deep within that she didn't have answers for him.

Charlie let out a quiet sob, but she pulled out her phone and turned the flashlight on, holding it towards the wound. Sam was scared of unraveling the cloth, scared of knowing how deeply Sophie was hurt underneath. But he also knew that removing the cloth might be the opposite of helpful because it might cause the stopped blood to flow again.

He felt a heavy hand rest on his shoulder and with blurred eyes Sam saw his brother's silhouette against the blood tinted night sky.

"Jody is on her way. She should be here any minute now."

Sam was still running his fingers through Sophie's matted hair, holding her against his chest. Tears streamed down his face now, the despair so overbearing that hope seemed like possibility only in another life.

Where are you, Y/N?

"Sam, we need to get her to a vet," Dean reminded him gently.

Sam sniffed. "Right," he cleared his throat, then awkwardly reached out for his phone from the back pocket without letting go of Sophie. He tossed the phone to Charlie. "The number is saved under 'Dr. Pamela Barnes."

Charlie nodded, tapping at the phone.

Sam hugged Sophie a little tighter, thinking about how she got there. There was a car around, with the trunk popped up. So, Sophie was in there? And someone pulled her out. The car itself seemed to have been handled roughly. The front door was propped open and the glass had been shattered.

His eyes followed the pattern of the glass crystals scattered on the floor, something had been dragged out of it, something that left a wet, bloody trail.

A sharp intake of breath and then Sam's eyes snapped to find his brother. Dean seemed to be following the track too, immobile and scared, till its end leading inside the building.

"No."

It wasn't a prayer this time. It wasn't a lament either.

It was a statement. One that dictated the decision of Sam's existence now.

No. It couldn't be.

Thoughtlessly, Sam was back on his feet, his eyes finally meeting the sky high flames. Frozen now.

Sam was pushing, Sam was pushing hard. The hands restraining him were digging into his body painfully now, doing everything to keep him from propelling inside. The voices around him were painfully confident about the outcome. Instead of consoling, they were grieving, urging him to believe that all was gone. That she was gone.

"But she's in there," he kept crying, between the lamenting shouts of her name. "She said she would bake cookies for me. I need to get her out!"

But the hands wouldn't yield. They wouldn't let go of him.

"Listen to me, son," A quiet, gruff voice whispered from somewhere behind, "She's gone. The fire has been raging for a few hours now."

"No," Sam yelled. Dad was wrong. This couldn't be happening. It had to be a nightmare. Any minute now he would wake up and it would all be gone.

Amongst all the hands, he felt another land on his shoulder. A touch so comforting, so reassuring that Sam would identify it anywhere, even in the middle of this hell. Because this touch meant safety. It meant everything was going to be okay.

Sam turned towards his brother, somehow wrenching all those hands away.

"She's in there, Dean. Jess. She's still in there. I have to go in." He pleaded with his brother. Dean would understand. He had to understand.

But Dean's eyes were fraught with anguish, tears shining through the green.  

It seemed to ache him from the insides as he said, "Sammy, you need to listen to me."

Sam heard the next words even before Dean said them.

"She's gone, Sammy, there's nothing you can do."

*snip* *snip*

Sam fell to the ground, a marionette whose strings had been cut.

This was it, this is how it ended. But it hadn't quite. That one last blood curdling scream was still remaining.

This time, Sam did not wait. Through the tears, burning anger and the absolute soul crushing fear, he did not wait. He was already running now, hurtling as fast as he could towards the southern exit, like his life depended on it. It did.

A hard grip landing on his shoulder brought him to a halt, to a twisted Déjà vu so cruel that it left him reeling, out of balance.

"No," Sam spoke, his voice dead. "I'm going in. I-I have to…. You can't stop me today."

Dean's grip tightened on his arm, but instead of pulling him back, he jerked Sam forward. "I wasn't stopping you. But you're not going in there alone, I'm coming with you."

For a second Sam faltered. As much as the mere thought seemed to sear Sam from inside out, the idea of Dean being in there somehow, impossibly added to the terror.

Dean sensed his thoughts without words. "I am coming. You're not stopping me."

The determination in his voice was so strong, Sam knew there was no wavering it.

Sam turned around, gulped every instinctual shred of the irrational dread that the engulfing fire seemed to instill in him, and flung himself in through the exit.

This side of the structure wasn't ablaze, but it was still sweltering hot. Hot enough to make Sam's eyes water and his skin swelter. The further in they went, the harder it became to breath.

"Y/N-!" Sam tried to call fruitlessly, instead, a coughing fit overcame him because of the smoke.

It was dark, hazy and suffocating. Sam could barely put one foot before another through the crippling fear, but he had to find Y/N. If he couldn't find her, what was the point of even getting out of this inferno?

"That way," Dean pointed through his own wheezing. "I- think it's that way."

Sam followed blindly, not giving himself the time to consider that he was heading towards the heart of the fire, checking every corner. The place was huge and confusing, adding to the pure panic he was feeling, but it also made his mind detach from the body, mechanically go through the motions that were expected of his limbs. Head in, look around, find her. His mind however was trapped in a limbo of constant chaos and unbelievable pain.

In a brief second of utter desperation, Sam turned a corner and there she was, lying on the floor, unconscious and broken. Her leg was bent at an odd, painful angle and her white blouse was covered in red. Blood matted the hair on the back of her head and tricked down from the side of her mouth and nose. In fact, every exposed part of her body seemed to be covered in some kind of bruise or burn.

"Fuck!" Dean exclaimed behind him, rushing forwards to the girl who meant more than the world to Sam.

"Y/N?" Dean crouched by her side, straightening her head. "C'mon… c'mon… c'mon," Dean muttered under his, placing two shaking fingers against her throat. 3 heartbeats, then his brother sagged to the ground, and Sam's heart stopped.

Dean looked up, eyes wide. "She's breathing, Sam. She's alive."

Sam felt himself collapse against the wall behind him.

She's alive.

"What're you looking at? Help me!" Dean yelled urgently. "We have to get her out of here."

When Sam did not move, Dean pleaded, "Sam! Snap out of it. She's not going to make it if you don't move."

His legs gave out beneath him and Sam fell on his knees, right in front of her.

"Here," Dean lifted her torso up. "I think her leg is broken. Hold her up."

Gingerly, Sam placed a hand behind her back, pulling her into his lap. Before he could hold up her broken knee, the staircase behind them cracked and with a deafening thud came crashing down.

Instinctively Sam threw his body against hers, shielding her from the chunks. The shrapnel embedding in his back didn't even register.

"Get her out of here," Dean shouted from behind him. Sam turned to see his brother shifting the broken joists and stringers that were blocking the door.

"Damn it, Sam! fucking MOVE! Get her out," he said, face furious now.

Finally, Sam moved, tucking her into his chest and walking away towards the staircase. Dean was still holding the hot wooden beam away from the door, so, Sam ducked through it, pulling her out.

This time Dean took the lead, guiding Sam through the winding passageways, and finally out of the building before coming to a halt outside.

The sirens behind them were blaring louder now, the voices shriller, Sam's hand resting on Y/N's chest however faltered.

"She's gonna be okay," Dean huffed.

But Sam refused to meet his brother's eyes, hugging Y/N tighter against him, as his voice cracked. "The- then why isn't she breathing?"

*********************

A/N 2: Okay, as a writer, I had no option but to end it there. But, as a reader, I don’t think I could have tolerated another cliffhanger. If you’re ANYTHING like me, and don’t mind it, I’ve added the spoiler about what happens to the reader in the tags. Help yourself if you want ;) 

A/N 3: THANK YOU TO ALL YOU GUYS WHO ALWAYS REBLOG AND COMMENT! I FUCKING OWE YOU GUYS!! The fact that y’all think my work is worth spreading and sharing makes me cry happy tears tbh <3

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