#and id ignored my love of women because id felt it made me some kind of pervert. fuck that noise

[prettiestcowgirl]

i rarely get the day off anymore, so today i decided to take some time to write on the porch after waking up an hour before noon. my body needed it. On friday night I was up until 4 am with my best friend. I am feeling the residuals of it now. we had drove around in circles and just talked. i was exhausted from working that morning, meeting my new roommates, and staying out the night before. I laid in the lowered passenger seat with my head lulled to the side and one of his button ups covering me like a blanket. he had thrown it over my head earlier in the day to shield me from downpour before we made it into the city. thankfully, it was dry by 2 am. 

“maybe not from the sources you have poured yours, maybe not from the direction you are staring at, twist your head around, it’s all around, all is full of love.” 

I have been feeling that ever present love as of recent. Every night and day I am preoccupied with people who make my existence a little softer. I was in pain so recently. it seems like family and committed relationships (i use this term in lieu of intimate because i think I have felt true intimacy in my considerable lesser relationships) have only ever raised a pickaxe to my creation of self. there are these little connections out there that i have been ignoring; these tethers that are ultimately pathways to myself. 

for example: i have decided to keep my job at the salon and work on weekends. the extra money is nice now that i’ll be living on my own, but i honestly do it out of enjoyment. the salon itself works us like serfs, but i have been there long enough to begin mentoring the young girls that pass through. it is something i just gravitate towards; i have such an urge to guide and protect their innocence. not in the way of sexuality or naivety, but in the way their spirit is still so intact. they come to me about boyfriend’s, their overbearing mothers, their ignorant fathers, their college applications, their futures, and occasionally, they ask how to rinse out a highlight. they claim i am approachable and kind, and even though these qualities have made me prey my entire life, they are also the qualities that keep my borders open to those who want to cross to safety. i’ll be a human doormat my entire life if it means i am the soft blanket over someone who has a chance. 

the love i feel towards these girls is similar to the love i felt towards my kids when i worked in schools. i just wanted them to be happy at no benefit of my own. i cried the entire day i quit. i still remember them by name. these connections have been more gratifying than any romantic ones i have had. they light a candle to the one quality of myself that i can recognize as good: i am loving if nothing else. i remember when i told my girls that i originally went to school for education and they all sang in a choir of “ohs”, told me that they could see it and that i was a good teacher.

this realization has helped me decide to keep walking my path towards being a human lighthouse. i think all i want to do in this life is help someone walk home. ive been considering a degree in HR, continuing further to an educational and instructional design masters, and then pursuing a PhD in educational psychology. My company has a position for corporate trainers which i am interested in. The current corporate trainers reached their position in a year which means I could be in their shoes a year from now. id only be twenty-five. 

i’ve also been toying with the idea of taking all of my knowledge and eventually starting a non-profit. i have been watching the maid, and i know it seems silly to draw inspiration from a piece of media, but i think there should be some kind of organization that helps women in domestic abuse shelters earn a license in cosmetology so they can support themselves and their children. i would love to volunteer my skills eventually. maybe i can combine this niche set of skills ive acquired over time and use it to help someone else. i have struggled under poverty my entire life, and I have been stuck in abusive situations simply because i could not afford to be free of them, i dont want that to be someone else’s reality. 

though my heart has been so rotten as of recent, i look to this love i have for people i have never met, people that just pass through the stream of my life, and it breathes air back into me. i dont know where it comes from, but it is the strongest feeling i hold. it is the only one i am sure of. it may not be the love i envisioned as a little girl, the love i burn for, but it is the only kind of love that makes sense to me. it’s the only love that is always ever-present and available for the taking. 

[promised-meadow]

I didnt participate in lesbian week a bit ago bc I didn't feel I was allowed to. Fuck that noise. I'm a proud lesbian and I'll be as gay as I want. Happy pride, everyone

[bedbellyandbeyond]

Librarians

(Story Post)

After spending another night with Diederich, Nari was back at the library. There was a different guard at the front desk time which meant another hassle to get back in. She asked for both his patron card and ID and things seemed to be going well until she tried to have him leave his phone because ‘smartphones contain silver'. When he argued that there wasn't even half a gram of silver in the average smartphone, she then said it was to enforce their ‘no photography’ policy, something that was never even brought up the last time he entered. At that point, Nari asked for Kobann and had to be escorted inside again. Looking up at all the seemingly infinite rows of bookshelves, Nari sighed and tried to remember where he left off. He decided it might just be better to start with a whole new section and see what he could find. Like before, he'd started around noon, but he figured the sun was going down when he noticed more and more perusers passing by. Some of the vampires climbed the ladders like him but he noticed more and more were able to float from floor to floor, a vampiric ability he wasn't even aware of. It was the floaters that made him most uncomfortable because they made no sound as the went by, eyeing him with curiosity and disapproval, he bet. So, when one vampire floated up next to him on the fourth floor and placed a hand on his shoulder, he was caught completely by surprise. Instinctively, he spun around and went for a neck grab, but the other vampire was quicker and caught his wrist.

“Whoa! Sorry if I scared you,” the stranger said grinning. He was tall, he had dark hair like Diederich's, and he looked rather smug with his uncomfortably intense eyes. “What do you want?” Nari growled, yanking his arm back. “I don't like to be disturbed.” “I just noticed you're new around here, that's all,” the stranger said. He had some kind of British accent. “Maybe, I could help you out.” “I'm not looking for help,” Nari said. The strange vampire tilted his head. “Oh? Most vampires come to the library because they're looking for help with something. Whether it's learning about their own immortality, or discovering new powers, or…” He glanced at the book in Nari's hand. “…starting a family?” Nari blinked and closed his book. “Who are you? Do you work here?” “Ooh, I got it right, didn't I?” The stranger was quite pleased with himself. “No, I don't work here, but I might as well with how long I've been here.” He offered a hand. “Everett.” “Nari.” He took the hand to shake it but was quickly pulled close to the stranger's chest. “H-Hey!” “I could help you, you know,” Everett said, smiling down at him. “With the whole baby thing.” Nari curled his lip in a sneer. “Let go of me. I have a partner.” Everett let go and grinned as he pat Nari on the head. “Don't get so worked up, I'm only joking! I too am taken.” He leaned back, looking up towards the upper levels of the bookshelf they were currently standing on. “Wes! Come down here for a moment!” Another vampire floated down, this time with sandy curls and bushy brows, and he held a finger to his mouth. “Shhhh! We're in a library, remember?” “Wes, my dearest!” Everett went in for a kiss, but the other vamp blocked him with his hand. “Who are you harassing today?” he asked. Nari noticed this new vampire preferred to remain afloat whereas Everett had alighted on the floor beside him. “Ah, this is…Norris?” Everett guessed, patting Nari's back a bit roughly. “Nari,” Nari correctly, glaring at him. “Stop touching me!” “Nari, I'm Wesley,” the other vampire said, offering his hand. “I'm really sorry about my partner. He's a menace to society.” Nari just looked at the hand and wrinkled his nose. Wesley sighed and grabbed Everett by the ear. “What did you do? He won't even shake my hand!” “Isn't that a thing in their culture?” Everett asked. Nari just put his book back and started climbing down the ladder. “I'm done… I give up.” Wesley gave Everett's ear a good yank. “You racist shit, look what you've done! Apologise!” “Shh, we're in a library, my love!” “Apologise.” Everett dove down to meet Nari on the next level upside down. “Nari, I'm sorry if I offended you. I was just trying to make friends.” “I was not.” Nari got off the ladder and prodded Everett in the forehead. “Just leave me alone.” “Hold on, hear me out for a moment,” Everett said righting himself so he could stand with Nari. “I really could help you find whatever you're looking for with this baby business. Wes and I have been coming to the library almost every day for decades. We know the books. The one you had out was not going to help you, but I could tell why you might think it would.” Nari frowned. “You've read all the books?” “Oh no, it would take a millennium to read everything in here,” Everett said. “I'm only just hitting my 180s. But I have read my fair share and more. I know the system they've got here. I know what books are practical and which are just hogwash.” Nari exhaled through his nose. “…So, since you seem to know everything, what do you think I'm looking for?” Everett smiled. “You want to know how to increase your chances of having a viable pregnancy with your partner.” Nari blinked. “How did you figure that?” “The book you had out,” Everett said. “It was about some Russian vampire queen with fifty children; it's a go to for a lot of vamps like you. But it's completely fabricated.” “And you know that how?” Nari asked. Everett shrugged. “It was just classic sexism. They thought she was a vampire because she appeared youthful for many years and was able to produce children well into her fifties. Men just like to call women monsters when they do anything they thinking isn't normal for a woman. That's all.” Nari put his hands on his hips. “So, what do you actually know about vampire pregnancy?” “One moment.” Everett held up a finger and then floated away to a far-off shelf several rows down and several levels up. Nari just opted to climb back up to look for a different book. He forgot however that the other vampire was still there. Wesley smiled sheepishly. “You really do have to forgive Everett; he can be an asshole sometimes. But he means well.” Nari sort of ignored him because he was trying to pinpoint what was giving him a vibe that this vampire was different. Then it clicked. “You're American.” “That's right, pardon my accent,” Wesley said, bashfully rubbing his neck. “I'm surprised I still got it with how long I've lived with Evie.” “I've never met an American vampire,” Nari said, although he hadn't met a lot of vampires in general. Wesley nodded. “Yep, they really like to keep it in and among the Europeans, I've found out. I got lucky, I guess.” Nari wrinkled his nose. “Lucky? This is a curse.” Wesley continued nodding. “Yeah, I felt that way for a long time… But, Everett saved my life.” “…He turned you?” Nari asked. Wesley put his hands in his pockets. “Yep. WWII, nazi I thought was down picked up his gun, shot me right in the back. I would've died that day if Evie didn't turn me.” Everett came back with a couple books in hand. “He still blames me for robbing him of his hero’s death, though.” Wesley grinned and wrapped an arm around Everett's neck. “Yeah! You just had to be the hero in that situation, huh? Bitey bastard…” “I thought only ancient vampires could turn people,” Nari said. “Really, really old ones.” “The natural ability to do it did peter out a few hundred years ago,” Everett said. “But like a lot of vampiric abilities, turning can be learned by any vampire. I frequented the library many years before joining the military. I'd never turned anyone before though.” “Why'd you learn it then?” Nari asked. “It's a bit embarrassing…” Everett admitted. “He had a wife before,” Wesley said. “He wanted to turn her so they could be together forever. But she got pregnant while he was in basic training. Postman. You know, the classics.” “Ah…” Nari eyed the books Everett had. “So, these are supposed to help me?” “Yes, I can't remember which, but one or more of these talks about birth chance I think,” Everett said. “What do you think, Wes? Take ‘em back to the house for a study session?” “Yeah… We've only been here a bit, but I'm already getting tired,” Wesley said. “I found what I needed.” “You can't take the books out of the library,” Nari said. “Not with that attitude,” Everett said. “Come. Follow us.” “What?” They both started to float down to the main floor. Nari tried to climb down after them, but it took him a lot more time. Everett came back and met him halfway up. “I could carry you down.” “No, thank you,” Nari huffed. “Are you sure? I've got strong arms. I've carried Wesley around quite a bit.” “I'm perfectly capable of climbing down on my own,” Nari said. “I don't even know why I'm following you…thieves.” “We're borrowers, not thieves,” Everett said, setting foot down on the ground just as Nari made it to the first floor. “We’re strong believers that library books are meant to be borrowed. Come on, Wes can't hold out much longer.” “Don't rush me,” Nari said. They led him through the labyrinth of shelves all the way to a little fire exit guarded by what looked to be another familiar. “The library had to put in a fire escape a couple years back to bring the building up to code,” Wesley said. “But it's clearly guarded,” Nari complained. “Hey, Ozren!” Everett went up and patted the guard on the chest and Nari noticed him slip something into his chest pocket. “You have a good shift, buddy!” The guard just acted like he didn't see them at all as they slipped past and through door. Despite a warning on display saying an alarm would sound, everything remained silent. Once they were in the hall beyond the door, they stopped for a moment. It was a narrow passage leading to another exit door, but Nari noticed there was also a wheelchair folded up against the wall. Wesley floated to it eagerly and unfolded it, before taking a seat. He sighed happily and hung back his head. “Oh my god, floating is so exhausting!” Nari stared at him for a moment. “…Can you not walk?” “Nope.” Wesley used his hands to pull his legs up onto the footrests of his wheelchair. “Already told you, I was shot in the back. Hit my spine.” Nari blinked. “But you can float. Why don't you do that all the time?” Wesley frowned and tilted his head. “Did you not just hear me say how exhausting that is? I only learned it so I could use the library. I much prefer my chair. This place has zero accessibility. It's a nightmare.” “Oh.” Nari blinked some more. “I'm sorry, I didn't realise…” Wesley rolled over to him and patted his back. “Don't worry about it. Let's just get out of here.” “Right.” Nari looked at Everett. “What'd you give that guard?” “Cash, obviously,” Everett answered. “He’s a familiar. They don't pay him anything. It's so easy to bribe a familiar.” “Got it...” Nari said. “I still don't know where you're taking me...” “Just to our house,” Everett said going down the hall and opening the door for them. “You can meet the others!” Wesley said excitedly as he went outside. Nari followed them out nervously. “Others?” “You’ll see.” “You’ll like them.”

[wrienne]

My Cheating Amnesic Fiancé

Chapter 2: Confrontation

Okay, you took that back. His mother was actually a nice lady. It was his father that was the problem.

Still, it didn’t change the fact that Jeon Jungkook, your fiancé, had a girlfriend.

Park Yi-Jae approached the sink next to yours and began washing her hands gingerly. Her pale skin looked even whiter than it did on the advertisements, though you couldn’t judge if it was due to good genes, make-up or the pallid glow from the ceiling lights. Public bathrooms always had horrible lighting.

You had to admit, however, that she was still pretty.

In fact, she was prettier in real life. Advertisements peeled off a sliver of humanity from the people starring in them and even dramas had managed to dull a bit of her glow. Or it was perhaps her “imperfections” that enhanced her beauty. The slight crook of her nose, the slight droopiness of her ears, the slight imbalance between her upper and lower lip - every slightness.

Jungkook’s jacket was a thick denim jacket but with sleeves and a hoodie made of that typical cozy, oversized gray sweatshirt material. You remembered that it had been fitted on Jungkook, but on Park Yi-Jae, it was several sizes too large. She had even folded up the sleeves, revealing thin wrists and fingers. She had a slender, graceful neck - like a swan’s - and around that neck, curving after the shape of her clearly visible collarbone rested the thin golden chain necklace you had bought Jungkook. You were absolutely certain, for you had spent hours upon hours contemplating its unique design, and stared at it for even longer after you had had it forged to make sure it was according to your liking. It had been the first present you had given him after your engagement, and you had wanted it to be special. Something he would remember.

And here it was, in the possession of another girl.

Jealousy raised its ugly head and told you to snap. You managed to ignore it. Honestly, you weren’t exactly in love with Jungkook or anything. You rather despised him. But you were not going to stand him cheating on you. Not when you two would eventually have to get married.

Though, was that even an option any longer? If your parents found out about this, the engagement would definitely be canceled. Was this, in a way, your ticket out of soon-to-be-horrible-marriage town? Was this good for you?

Noticing you staring at her, stuck in your swirling thoughts, Yi-Jae glanced at you and smiled politely. “Finally finished for the day?” she asked in a light, fluttery voice. “You and the rest of the coordi-unnies have all worked very hard and deserve at least a week of rest.”

This caught you off guard for a moment, and you were just about to open your mouth and tell the “truth” - that you were simply there to grab your keys - when an idea popped into your head. “Yeah,” you replied quickly, mustering up your friendliest smile. Surprisingly, it hurt to smile at her. “I’ve been here since early morning with a few others. I’m exhausted.”

Your smile must have looked as painful on your face as it had inside your chest, because she gave you a sympathetic look. “I bet. The boys are lucky to have you. At least you’ll get some rest on your flight overseas.”

“Yeah,” you repeated, not knowing anything about a journey overseas.

You continued to wash your hands, rubbing and scrubbing them in a way that falsely indicated that you had gotten something sticky on them. You waited until Yi-Jae was done washing her own hands before you followed her toward the hand-drying air machines. When she was content, you remained at the machines, praying fervently that the plan would work.

“Want to head back together?” she finally asked, raising her voice over the violent whooshing of the machine.

You nodded and then followed her toward the door when you remembered the security guard that had escorted you around. He would probably not be fine with you following her, since he knew you weren’t a… had she meant a coordinator? What even was that?

“Wait,” you blurted as you halted.

“What is it?” she asked, turning around with her eyebrows raised in surprise.

“There’s this guy,” you began, hoping your lie wouldn’t sound as outrageous out loud as it did in your mind. “He’s in security and he has been harassing me for my number all day. He’s waiting just outside the bathroom right now. I’m kind of scared he’ll follow me on my way home or something. If you could just do something to help me get away from him, I’d be really grateful.”

Yi-Jae’s eyes widened in dismay. “You sure you shouldn’t just report this to the manager?”

You shook your head. “I’ve only just begun working for him, I don’t even have the ID card yet.” Inwardly, you made a fist-pump at the brilliant idea of mentioning your obvious lack of identification. Outwardly, you were trying your best to portray the young, timid intern. “I don’t want to get in trouble already.”

“It’s not being trouble, you should know,” she said softly. “But I understand the need to prove oneself, and girls need to stick together.” She gave you a wide smile. “What will you have me do?”

She was really sweet. You almost felt bad for her. Almost.

“If you could perhaps tell him that you would like to talk to me backstage or something,” you answered, “I can take that chance to slip out of here through one of the back entrances. Make it sound like you’re really angry at me or something, like I’ve misbehaved or insulted you. He’ll probably stay away from Park Yi-Jae. You’re kind of famous, you know.”

She giggled. “Sounds like I’m some kind of mafia boss.” She quickly gathered herself into a sober expression. “But if he tries to bother you again in the future, you need to seek out the manager. Promise me?”

Okay, you were kind of getting a bad conscience. In another universe or timeline, you two might have made good friends. Fortunately, with a single glance at the necklace on her skin and his jacket on her torso, your determination was renewed.

“I will,” you said, managing what you hoped looked like an anxious or at least shy smile. It wasn’t really difficult to muster, since what you were doing practically was trespassing, and that, under the cover of false employment. This was probably illegal. You could already imagine the media slaughtering your family’s name and the brand that had made your late grandfather so very affluent, should you be caught.

“Come on,” Yi-Jae said as she pushed the bathroom door open.

With a nod, you followed her out. The security guard, who thus far had deadpanned you, wore a confused expression when Park Yi-Jae hooked her arm around yours and began dragging you in the same direction you had come.

“I need to speak with her,” she told him coolly. “If you would be so nice as to return to your post.”

He opened his mouth to say something but Yi-Jae interjected. “No protests. She’s mine for the moment.”

“If you’re sure,” he said hesitantly, not really relenting.

“I am.” She strode away from him. When you two were far enough away that it was safe to speak, she muttered: “Creep.”

“Thank you,” you blurted, feeling genuine relief washing over you.

"But of course,” she said cheerily, letting go of your arm. She continued down the hallways, surprisingly quickly considering her short stature, and you had to strain in order to keep up with her. “Do you have a ride? It’s kind of late for a girl to walk home all alone.”

“Actually, I don’t,” you lied with artificial sheepishness. “Would you mind…?”

“Not at all!” She smiled. “I need to take good care of the coordi-unnies, since they take care of my honey and his group members. Ultimately, I take care of him.”

“Oh?” you managed.

“You’re new, I forgot,” she said, before lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Everyone’s been really good at keeping it hidden and private, which I thank them for. But inevitably, the media is probably going to get a hold of it sooner or later, and our managers have agreed that those working close to them might just as well know.”

“Know what?” you asked stiffly.

“I… am in a relationship with one of the members,” she said, and blushed.

You felt your heart grow cold. You had known it almost as soon as you had spotted her, yet it felt worse hearing it somehow. You managed a singular nod. “And who would that be?” you asked, trying to sound curious but not like you were trying to pry.

“Well...”

By then, you two had rounded a corner leading into a thin hallway with a pair of double metal doors - not unlike the ones at the women’s bathroom - at the end and on the western wall halfway across it. It said backstage above the doors at the end of the hall, but the fact that you had somehow reached your original destination wasn’t what caught your attention.

It was the train of people that was exiting those doors - in particular, the seven people you just recently had watched perform on stage that were walking in the front.

They had changed into more casual clothes, and wore jackets or coats with various caps and masks covering their mouth and nose. But even in an opaque, full-coverage bodysuit, you would discern Jeon Jungkook as long as he was able to speak. Frankly, even if he couldn’t, you would probably have a better chance than most of spotting him. You had known him for so long, you even recognized him in the way he walked and moved. He would need more than a white mouth mask and a black Puma cap to hide from you and your furious gaze.

Perhaps he felt it, too. For as soon as your gaze landed on him, he glanced toward you and Yi-Jae. His brown, familiar eyes widened in shock and you could see movement underneath his mask indicating that he had, in fact, opened his mouth in surprise. He had even stopped so abruptly the guy behind him had bumped into him, causing him to stumble slightly. Had the day been a different one, you might have felt joy at this display of bewilderment from one of the most infuriatingly perfect people in the world.

But you were pissed, and had every right to be.

“Jungkook!” Yi-Jae called in an overly sweet sing-song. “Why, were you boys all trying to leave without saying goodbye? I was just at the bathrooms with...” She looked at you. “Er, what was your name again?”

You had forgotten her presence and reflexively shifted your focus to her. You noticed a glimmer of something in her eyes, but it disappeared before you could ascertain its nature. Instead, you did your very best to stay exactly where you stood and continue your charade of being a shy intern. Perhaps Jungkook would do the same and pretend like he didn’t know you. He was clever, he caught up on things very quickly. He would play it smooth and remain calm, and you would, too.

To your amazement, however, and admittedly in a morbid mixture of satisfaction and fear, Jeon Jungkook reacted in a completely different manner.

Drilling his eyes into yours, he tore off his mouth mask and cursed loudly. Before anyone in the hallway, including you, could speak or react, he snarled his next few words in the same cold voice you had heard countless times before.

“What the hell are you doing here, (Y/N)?”

[thai-with-booty]

The mall - Part I

This is a story I wrote a while back, but wasn’t ready to share and kept coming back to rather than writing all in one go. It was based around a few years ago when I and my husband were very new to the idea or being more open as we are now.

I can't believe that I am really doing this. Walking in the mall, wearing slutty black high heels (Id never normally wear high heels to a mall), a black silk mini-skirt with a tiny lace thong underneath and a flimsy white silk blouse with just a thin lace bra underneath. My nervousness is causing tiny beads of sweat to form and trickle down my blouse. I had a bet with my husband, over a stupid game, I don’t even remember now what it was, but I remember it being something so small and insignificant, with the loser having to do whatever the other wanted for a full day. I had his day all planned out: fixing my dresser and doing all kinds of stuff around the house. I was sure that I was going to win, but here I am in the mall looking like when I was 22 and working in a bar. If I had known what he wanted me to do, I never would have made the bet.

I feel like a slut and I know that I look like one, too, but somehow a part of me is enjoying this. All of the men staring at me is really doing something to me. I can feel the moistness between my legs and an urge to show off more of myself.

When I first started out today, I was very self-conscious and kept my arms crossed in front of my chest, but realizing that this just brought more attention to myself, I forced myself to act naturally; and soon I realized that I enjoyed having their eyes undress me. I have even found myself trying to catch men looking at me, watching their faces as their eyes wander all over my over-exposed body. Earlier, I spied a guy staring at me, and without even realizing what I was doing, I stretched my arms up, pressing my breasts against the blouse enjoying the look on his face as he stared at my breasts straining the fabric of my blouse. I am supposed to meet my husband in the food court for some new instructions and I can only imagine what he has planned for me next.

I think those three guys are following me. As I stop and pretend to be interested in a window display, I notice that they stopped also. As I continue on, I see that they are right behind me. I have to admit that, as nervous as I am, I am also very turned-on by this.

Oops, I just dropped my purse. As I bend over to pick it up, I can feel this tiny silk skirt ride up my behind, as my nearly naked booty is exposed to them and whoever else is looking in my direction. Knowing that these men can see so much of me, is making me even hotter. I can't believe how turned-on I am! I never realized that acting like a slut would feel so sexy, so confident, so powerful. I am not sure anymore if the reason that I am sweating is nervousness or lust. Stealing a glance at my followers, I see that they are stopped, and if I wasn't so turned-on I would have to laugh. They are staring at me with their mouths wide open. I give them a quick smile and I continue walking knowing that they are watching my butt as I wiggle away.

I notice that they are getting closer and not trying to hide themselves anymore. I am almost to the food court and my appointment with my husband. I step onto the escalator with my little following right behind me, and I know that they can look right up my skirt. Knowing that they can probably see how wet my panties are makes me even hotter. I am tempted to really give them a show by putting my hand inside my panties and my finger inside my dripping slit, but I fight off that temptation. I am on the verge of an orgasm, and I feel my legs wobble as I reach the top of the escalator and step off.

Seeing my husband, he was at the table near the som tam which is my favourite food, he smiles at me and walks away as I start to walk toward him. I see an envelope on the table, and I take his place. I see my husbands writing and his instructions for me to go to the ladies room and open the envelope. I know that he is watching me, and I remember our deal: if I didn't follow his instructions, no matter how stupid, exactly as I was told, we would repeat the whole day next weekend. I hastily grab the envelope and just as I start to stand the three strangers walk by. One of them starts to say something to me, but I just ignore him as I make my way to the ladies room.

Sitting here in the empty lounge, I open the envelope, and I almost gasp as I comprehend the next part of my day. I am to remove my bra and my panties, put them in my purse, and continue to walk until I get to a bench in front of a lingerie store on the other side of the mall. I sit and decide that I am not going to do this. I'll walk out of this mall right now. Not only is the bet off but that my husband is really going to hear it from me about this!

Standing, instead of leaving, I find myself entering an empty stall. After closing the door, I quickly remove my blouse and my bra. While putting the blouse back on, I can't help but see how my large, dark nipples poke holes in this flimsy little silk blouse. As I remove my panties, I am surprised by how moist and warm they are.

I put everything inside my purse but I am so horny that I have to touch myself for just a second. I sit, pull up my skirt, close my eyes, and start to play with myself. Rubbing my clit feels so good! I imagine that I am doing this in front of a crowd, with everybody urging me on. I am surprised again by how quickly, how powerfully I am overcome by pure lust.

Oh my God, I didn't mean to actually go this far but here it comes... Ohhh My God! As I am overcome by my orgasm, I hear myself moan. I try to stay silent but I know that some sounds have escaped my lips.

Now that I have my composure back, I realize just how turned-on I am by showing off my body to total strangers. I straighten out my clothes and as I walk by the mirror, I can see exactly what I look like. As I walk, I can feel how my tits are bouncing around. I look at my skirt and see that the bottom is just below my butt. Just the slightest breeze will let everybody see how naked I am under this tiny skirt. Since nobody is in here, I bend over to see how much of me shows when I do it.

Oh, this skirt rides up so high, I better not if I don't want to get arrested for indecent exposure. As I pull down my skirt, I hear a sound from one of the other stalls. I glance around quickly and notice that one of the other stalls is occupied, with the door still open a crack. I can hear someone in there. It sounds like she is masturbating!

My curiosity gets the best of me, so I move closer and ask, "Are you okay?"

I hear her say yes but it comes out almost as a moan.

I fight off the urge to open the door, but my curiosity gets the best of me and I decide to wait and see this woman. I stall for time freshening up my makeup, and after a short while, she leaves the stall. I realize that she has been sweating, but has a look of total satisfaction on her face. I guess that she is about my age — late twenties/ early thirties — with long black hair similar to mine. I look her in the eye and she greets me with a playful smile as I notice her beautiful brown eyes.

She quickly explains to me that she has been following me, because...

I ask her to repeat the last part because I didn't quite hear it.

I can't believe it! She just told me that she was following me because she wants to make love to me. When I stopped to pick up my purse earlier, she decided that she had to have me, and has been following me ever since. Somehow I didn't notice her.

I don't know what to say. As I stand in front of her, open mouthed, she quickly explains to me that she is bisexual, and often comes to the mall to pick up bored housewives. When she walked into the ladies room after me, she heard me moaning and had to go and play herself, too, but when I was looking at myself in front of the mirror, that brought her over the edge.

Now this beautiful woman is trying to pick me up, and I have no idea how to react!

She explains that many women come to the mall looking for a lover, and she can tell when a women wants another woman without the woman even realizing it herself. She continues, saying that although I may not realize it, I would enjoy myself so much if I came with her.

I start to protest, but she quiets me with a too-passionate kiss that I can't help but return. She somehow can see the nervous and confused state that I am in. She reaches in her purse and pulls out a business card, writes on it, and tells me to call her soon. I watch her leave, then look down at the card and see her name and number.

I better get going. My husband is going to be waiting for me. Leaving the ladies room, I look around for my little group of followers, but they are nowhere to be seen. Suddenly I feel self-conscious and lost. I am in the middle of a huge mall, practically naked. As hot as I felt before, suddenly all of that sexual arousal that I had felt before is gone, replaced by embarrassment and humiliation. I better get going and get this over with before I get arrested for solicitation.

I am almost to my next rendezvous with my husband when I notice that I have regained my group of admirers. I'm feeling more confident and at ease as I find myself with somebody familiar, even if they are strangers. Feeling daring again, I stop at the fountain, open my purse for some change and throw a few baht into the fountain. I can't see them, but I can somehow feel their eyes run up and down my body, but I can sense somebody coming closer to me. A part of me wants to escape and get out of here, and I actually decide to continue on, but just as I turn around, I see one of the trio standing next to me. As I look over at him, he gives me a sexy little smile.

[smol-and-grumpy]

EUPHORIA - Chapter 26

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: He’s Dean Winchester, owner of a shady night club. She’s a journalist who has been asked to write an article to expose the indecency and debauchery that’s going on behind closed doors. But he’s also Dean Winchester, the boy who sat next to her in class. The boy who was too cocky for his own good.

Chapter Warning: Flangst

WC: 2858

Beta’d by @deanwanddamons <3

This series is complete on Patreon!

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Dean left her all flustered and oh god, he accepted and didn't object when she introduced him as her boyfriend. 

Her fucking boyfriend! 

Her friend, who is a boy and who she’s fucking!

The first one after Cole. The second one ever.

Charlie winked when she walked into the room light headed and Y/N could not hide her stupid grin even if she would have tried.

Y/N sighs and rolls her eyes at her friend before she makes her way over to her. 

Charlie’s actually a very good friend, if not one of her best friends. They met in college where they both pursued the same dream. Charlie moved away though, leaving her alone in the city and just yesterday morning  she got a text from Charlie while she was on the train saying that Charlie was attending the workshop too. 

Immediately, Charlie is all over her when Y/N sits down but at least Charlie was considerate enough and went to grab coffee for the both of them from the back of the room, where the organizers have a little breakfast table set up. 

“So,” Charlie’s still grinning stupidly, “Your boyfriend, huh?”

“God, can we not talk about that, Charlie?” 

“What do you mean?” The woman sounds offended, “When do you wanna talk about it? When we’re on the fucking phone?”

Well, Charlie’s not wrong. They rarely see each other anymore apart from from the weekly phone calls and she hasn’t had the time nor the feeling that she should update Charlie about her relationship status yet. Dean was kind of a secret because she’s not sure where what ever they have would lead to and she’s not the one who jumps the gun.

Y/N takes a look around them. People are still mingling together and the host hasn’t started with the morning briefing of the workshop yet. In fact, the desk in the front isn’t set up at all. 

Turning back to Charlie, she’s met by the woman’s pout. She groans and sighs, “Well, he’s Dean.”

“Duh,”

“Winchester.” She adds.

Charlie’s eyes widen, “The same Dean Winchester you went to high school with?”

“Ya!” 

“What are the fucking chances?” Charlie laughs.

“I know!” She couldn’t help but laugh with her friend.

“The Winchester boy who I caught you during lecture writing a story about?” Charlie squints her eyes, but the smile’s still there. 

She cringes at the memory, because she doesn't like to think back to college. It brings back memories of Cole and she doesn’t like that thought, at all. And oh god, she was daydreaming a lot during their lectures, and yeah, Charlie’s not wrong. She once started to write a short story about a boy who was too cocky for his own good . She even gave the story that title, if she remembers rightly.

Y/N nods her head. There’s not a chance she can hide the flush of her face from Charlie. The woman always knows it. 

Charlie lets out a squeal and wraps her arms around Y/N, nearly sending her coffee spilling onto both of them. When Charlie parts, she looks at Y/N, and she can detect a hint of concern on her friend’s face, “Does he treat you right? Please tell me he does.”

“Don’t worry Charlie, I’m not rushing into anything, I’ve learned my lessons.” 

They both know what she’s talking about. Charlie was right the fuck there when it started with Cole. It was in their last year of college. Cole was working at the bar  they frequented and she really didn’t know what he saw in her, but she was so head over heels in whatever the feeling was , because it sure as hell wasn’t love. It was kind of a new feeling to be wanted by someone, so new that she ignored all the fucking red flags Cole waved in front of her. It was a whirlwind romance. She moved in with him as soon as she finished college and Cole had her cut all ties to Charlie. Behind his back, she managed to keep her contact with Charlie though. Charlie was so mad at her, but still she remained in her life because Charlie knew that without her, Y/N would have nobody. 

After Charlie spent years persuading her that Cole wasn’t good for her, she finally caved. It was a long process of understanding that what she had was not healthy. That the one person she trusted the most was misusing her trust. It was a long way to realize Cole’s toxic behaviour, but she was glad that she finally got it in her head. 

The last straw was actually, when Cole promised her to finally find a decent job but instead of going out and doing some job hunting, she found him in their fucking bed with another woman. Apparently it wasn’t the first either. She felt so fucking dirty afterwards and ran to Charlie. Her friend helped her leave him for good, but Cole began to hunt her down and pretended that he wanted her back, stalking her wherever she went. It was again Charlie who went to the police with her to file a restraining order. 

So, yeah, Y/N gets that Charlie is overprotective when it comes to her, and her friend is just afraid that Y/N will make the same mistake again.

“You deserve a good guy, you know?” Charlie says and it’s sincere. 

“I know. I think Dean’s alright in that department.” She grins when she thinks of him, how can she not, “He had a crush on me in high school.”

“He did not.”

“Did, too!”

“You had one on him, too, didn’t you?” Charlie asks.

“I mean, who didn’t? He was Dean Winchester. The bad boy everyone was gushing over.”

*

Her and Charlie continued to talk until the workshop started. They talked again at lunch. She told her friend everything. How Dean earns his money, how he took care of her when she was sick, how she’s so insecure that she gets jealous of other women and thinks that Dean only plays with her feelings. That is apparently normal, Charlie said, and she begged for Y/N to let her come see the club and she promised to ask Dean about it.

They went to dinner together in the evening and Charlie made the drive home because she had work the next morning and Charlie doesn’t live too far away from here, unlike her. She has to stay another night and take the train home in the morning. 

Y/N keys in her card, debates on taking the DO NOT DISTURB sign back in but decides to leave it on the door. Once inside she can still smell Dean’s cologne. She walks to the unmade bed and dives face first into it and buries her face into the covers and pillow where he was sleeping last night. The smell of his skin still lingers in the sheets and she breathes it in.

They texted today while she had lunch and some more during dinner, but that’s about it. It’s almost 10pm. Dean’s working right now, and even though she would love to hear his voice, she decides not to call. She’ll see him tomorrow. It’s not that far away when she thinks about it. Still… it’s so close, yet so far. 

She closes her eyes, breathing in his scent some more even though she knows that she should pack her things to be ready to leave before 6am but dragging herself away just seems impossible right now. She also knows that if she’d hurry, she can be back in bed sooner and buries her face back in here, but still, she’s just too fucking weak right now. 

There’s a vibration at the end of the bed, where she left her purse. Yanking her eyes open, she heaves herself up and crawls towards the source. She takes it out and scans the caller ID, smiling as she goes. 

Quickly, she swipes her thumb over the button, “Hey,” Her heart flutters.

“Hey,” Dean replies with a chuckle.

The background sound is muffled. She takes it he’s in his office. 

“How are you?” Dean asks, and Y/N hears the sound of him reclining into his chair, hears the creaking of the leather. 

“Good,” She answers, “‘M so tired.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t make it out tonight.”

Yeah, he’s told her that already and she was okay with it. It would have been exhausting for him to drive here two nights in a row and she gets it, there’s really nothing that he has to be sorry for.

“Don’t be, that’s okay. I wasn’t expecting you to. And I didn’t even expect you to come here the first night either.”

“I would have,”

“I know.”

“So,” He chuckles, tries to lighten up the mood, “What are you wearing?”

It works, because Y/N’s smiling. She scrambles off the bed, and jams the phone between her cheek and shoulder to pull the zipper down at the back of her skirt, “I’m just getting out of my clothes now.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” She tugs at her bottom lip with her teeth, as she lets the skirt slide down her thighs before her hands work on her shirt, “I’m in my underwear.”

“Take it off,” Dean mumbles.

She has to grin at that, “Why?”

“It’s just,” He starts and pauses to think before he adds, “I love it when you wear nothing but a smile on your face.”

“You do?” 

“Yeah, don’t get me wrong. I love it when you wear clothes, especially when you’re wearing my shirts, but I love it when you’re naked, too.” Dean breathes out, “Jesus, I’m getting hard just thinking about it.”

She chuckles.

Just when she’s about to say more, she hears an opening of a door, hears music spilling in and then Dean takes the phone away from his face, hears a muffled ‘ Yeah, I’ll be right down ’.

“Yeah, uh,” He starts, when he’s back on the phone with her, “I’m needed down stairs and now I have a boner. Great. Well, I just wanted to call to say good night. I was hoping to catch you before you went to sleep and now I got more than I bargained for.”

She smiles, “No worries, Dean. I should probably go to sleep soon if I wanna catch the train on time.”

Dean sighs, “I miss you.”

Y/N smiles as she feels her heart clenching. She chuckles, “I miss you too.”

“Text me what time you arrive, okay? I’ll pick you up.”

She grins, “You know that you don’t have to, right?”

“I know, but I want to.”

“‘K,” She tugs her bottom lip between her teeth, tries not to squeal because she’s happy.

“Good night, baby.” Dean says and she can hear him smile. 

“Night, Dean.”

*

The train ride was uneventful and as soon as the train arrived at the platform, her heart started to race. Y/N wonders if Dean’s going to be here like he promised. He’d texted her before he left and honestly, she actually felt bad because he’s probably so tired from working and it’s still too early in the morning for him. She wonders if he had slept at all and she doesn’t really want to be the cause if he hadn’t.

Even before the train comes to a halt, Y/N grabs her bag and walks past the other passengers, in order to be the first one to get out. 

She looks around before she descends the steps but there’s no Dean in sight. She continues to walk towards the exit and there’s someone she recognizes but it’s not Dean. 

Cas’ waves at her and walks towards her, but his face is blank. He looks concerned and already her heart starts to thumb faster.

“Hi Y/N,” Cas greets her with a shy hug and takes the bag from her hand. 

“Hi,” She replies, and she really wants to ask him where Dean is, but thinks it would be rude for it to be the first question, wouldn’t it? Fuck it, she decides, she needs to know, “Where’s Dean?”

“Yeah, about that,” Cas starts and starts to walk ahead, leaving her to catch up on him, he places a hand around her shoulder to keep her walking, “I’ll tell you in the car.”

“Cas,” She breathes out and tries to keep up with him without him having to drag her along too much. God, why do they all have to have such fucking long legs! “What’s wrong?”

Cas doesn’t say anything though, he just keeps walking until they arrive at his car and only after he stows away her bag and gets her inside he looks over to her, “Dean’s been in an accident.”

“What?” 

“Yeah, just moments ago. He wanted to pick you up and as soon as he drove into the intersection around the club, a car t-boned his Impala.” Cas tries to explain.

Her hands start to tremble, and she feels nauseous, “I— is he okay?” 

Oh god, please let him be okay.

“Yeah,” Cas breathes out, “Yeah, he is.”

“Oh thank god,” She doesn’t know why she’s crying, but the tears are running down freely.

“The impact wasn’t strong enough. As of now, I know that he has bruised his ribcage. They are checking if anything’s broken and they wouldn’t let him leave the hospital until the cops arrive to take down his statement.”

Oh. Thank fucking god.

“And he sent you.” She says calmly as she brushes at her cheeks. 

Cas smiles weaky, “Yeah, you were his only concern, he didn’t even care about his car. He wanted to make sure that you get home okay.”

Dean didn’t care about his car? That is really new to her. He was so proud since he got it as a hand me down from his dad. She remembers him driving to school with Sam every day and she was actually surprised that he still has it when he took her on their first date with it.

“And the other driver? Are they alright?”

“That’s the thing, we don’t who did it because they fled the scene. We think it has to do with the threats. Now they’re really trying to get Dean, apparently.”

“Shit,” She mutters under her breaths.

“Exactly,” Cas nods, “Anyway, Dean called me to pick you up, said you’d be worried if he didn’t show and he’s really adamant that you’ll get home alright.”

“Can I go see him?”

“That’s my first stop with the Cas-mobile,” Cas winks before he turns on the ignition. 

*

Castiel drove her to the hospital in silence and they had to wait until Dean came back from another x-ray until they were allowed to see him. 

When it was time, Cas said that he’ll wait, and she knows it’s because he wants to give them privacy. 

Y/N walks to Dean’s room on shaky legs, and it’s mainly because she doesn’t know what to expect.

Knocking once, she turns the door knob and peeks her head through. 

Dean’s sitting on the edge of his bed and he’s in a hospital gown but he’s smiling as he greets her, “Hey, I’m sorry I couldn’t mak—”

She’s on him before he could finish the sentence, kisses him hard and soft at the same time, and Dean’s hand goes around her waist, holds her steady and keeps her a safe distance away from his bruised ribs. 

“Don’t be sorry,” She whispers when she breaks the kiss to hold his head between her hands. She looks him in the eyes that are a little weary, but the crinkles are showing around them.

“Jesus, I missed you,” He whispers and pulls her in, grunting when it hurts him and she wants to pull away, wants to take a step back, but Dean wouldn’t let her. Instead he draws her closer to him, grunting and chuckling at the same time as he does. He kisses her again, all soft and tender.

“I was worried,” She says and she leaves her forehead on his. 

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“Is anything broken?”

Dean shakes his head, “No, just little bruises here and there.”

“Good,” She says and she just can’t not kiss him again. 

Dean’s arms wrap tightly around her, his hands span over her back, fingers digging into her flesh. 

“I’ve got to wait for the police to arrive. Cas can drive you home and I’ll see you later.”

“No,”

“Baby, I—”

“No, I wanna wait, okay?”

“Okay,” Dean smiles, “Then you should go get something to eat with Cas? I’ll call you when I’m finished.”

She nods and leaves Dean with a bruising kiss, strokes her hand over his scruff and lets her fingertips trace along his face. Y/N hasn’t seen him for a night but it feels like it has been a lifetime and she’s so glad that nothing happened to him. How cruel would it have been, though. She’s only just met him. She doesn’t want anything to take him away from her just yet.

Chapter 27

Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

[skylarmoon71]

Harry Wells x Witch Reader (Flash) Short Story: Chapter 1

“Harry get down!” The male ducked at Iris’s words, and Iris flinched, barely dodging the blaze of fire that blasted in her direction.

“Whooo! Next time make sure those cuffs are on!!” Their present metahuman had not very safe fire wielding powers. After just barely stopping him from blowing up his old job building, they were now struggling to contain him. Barry was dealing with another situation, so they were fighting to hold their own.

“Killer frost would come in handy right about now.” Iris squealed, ducking behind an overturned table, and Harry frowned, jumping to the same location. Without his gun he was a sitting duck.

“What’s the plan?” Harry asked.

“Wait it out.” she advised. They couldn’t exactly face him off. Harry raised his head to glimpse the spot of his weapon. It was on the other side of the room. If he was fast enough, he could make a break for it. Iris followed his gaze. “Harry no, we wait for Barry and the others. I don’t want to explain why you got barbecued!!”

The laughter of their assailant wasn’t very comforting.

“Come on old man, let’s see if you can outrun my flames.” He challenged. Harry’s mood was quickly depleting.

“Ready or no-” The bright flash of a light temporarily blinded the meta, and both Harry and Iris turned in the direction. She sighed in relief, assuming it was Cisco vibing in, but was surprised when a young woman jumped through the circular portal. Sporting a duffle bag too. It disappeared almost as quick as it appeared, and now all the attention shifted.

“What do we have here?” the male snickered, raising his hands as flames erupted.

“W-Watch out!” Iris yelled.

Your eyes shifted between the man standing in front of you and the two people hiding behind a desk.

“You’re kinda cute, might not set you on fire.” He spoke. Harry thought for sure you would at least react to the man that was holding fire in his palms, then again, you’d just jumped through a portal from who knows where.

“Damn it, so much for a vacation, I was so ready to kick back and relax, now I gotta deal with this.” you dropped the bag, stretching your limbs. The meta raised an eyebrow, a bit annoyed at your reaction.

“Hey! Don’t you realize you’re in some real danger. Don’t ignore me you bi-”

“Somnum.” As soon as the words left your lips his eyes shined blue, and he fell to the ground, unmoving. Iris and Harry released a breath, now they were facing an entirely different problem. When you saw the guarded way they were looking at you, you waved your hands around.

“O-Oh shit no I didn’t kill him or anything, he’s just asleep!” you said hurriedly, running over and flipping him unto his back. Iris felt a bit more reassured when she saw the steady rise and fall of his chest. “See, completely fine. Maybe a moron but fine.” you grinned, and Iris picked herself from behind the desk. Harry wasn’t as welcoming. He squinted, taking slow steps to his gun, just in case.

“You really saved us there. Thank you.” Iris moved closer with a friendly smile which you returned. “Of course, fighting demons is sort of my thing.” Iris’s brows furrowed. “Demons?” you nod. “Yeah, what else could he be. Humans don’t exactly have magic powers am I right?” you laughed at your own joke, and Iris realized at that moment that maybe she didn’t really understand this. She thought for sure you were a meta. “He..he wasn’t a demon, he’s a meta.”

“A what now? “

You had no idea what metahumans were, so the theory of you being one was completely off.

Harry grabbed his gun, charging it up and pointing it at you.

“Who are and what do you want!”

“Harry!” Iris scolded.

“What, she just pops up from a circle light and knocks that meta out without so much as a flinch. I think we should be a little more cautious. “

You were still smiling widely at Harry. He didn’t know what was more unsettling, the fact that you didn’t look the least bit intimidated, or the way your smile directed at him was giving him weirdly calming vibes.

“I’m a witch!” you chirped.

“Come again?” Harry spoke.

“Witch, you know, magical powers, fighting demons and other evil magical creatures. I know what you’re thinking, brooms and pointing hats which personally I’d like to say is a bit offensive if you really think about it and-” The whiplash of wind smacked into your face and your eyes widen at the man now standing at the dark skinned women’s side. He was wearing a suit and all.

“Woah, that’s a lot of red..”

“Iris are you okay, what happened? I got a notification that the lab was under attack. “ He seemed distracted with his worry for the woman, and she quickly reassured him.

“I’m good Barry, after you guys dropped that meta off he kind of went on a rampage. The cuffs got loose.” Barry looked over, now noticing the way Harry was still holding a gun, when he followed he saw the very unconscious male, and an unfamiliar woman.

“Uh, hi.” he said a bit awkwardly.

“Sup.” you greeted.

“Who umm, who is this?” he inquired.

“(Y/N), (L/N) at your service. Full fledged witch.”

“A...witch?”

“Yep! So you guys get any food around here. Been travelling for a while. “ you just started walking around, in search of a fridge it would seem. Barry’s brows knitted and Iris sighed.

“Interesting...”

That was an understatement.

~~~~

“So while we were out superheroing, you guys found a wizard?” Cisco voiced.

“Witch.” you corrected, munching on your fries.

“Well, I’m just glad you came in when you did, you really saved us.” Iris thanked.

“We had it handled.” Harry groused from his side. He was messing with some type of machine, and you just scrunched your nose at him. In which he blinked in confusion. “Please tell me why again we’re entertaining this kid.”

“Excuse me I’m thirty-five! Although I’m flattered by your compliment.”

“You’re older than me?” Barry asked in confusion. You nod. “What, do I really not look like it.” It did make sense why those bouncers always asked you for ID before entering.

“What can I say, got good genes.”

Iris was still watching you with a little smile. You smiled back of course, a bit confused, but still happy that she wasn’t as mean as Harry. Barry noticed, and he had a feeling he knew why his wife was looking at you so fondly. He reached over, giving her arm a squeeze, and she looked up at him, glowing. There was a secret exchange between the both of them.

“Can I just comment that you guys are so cute, kind of remind me of Harry and Macy, if they ever stop avoiding the obvious that is.”

“Wait, there’s a Harry in your world too?”

“Well yeah, but he isn’t like Mr. Grumpy over there. Plus he british. He’s a whitelighter.”

“What’s that?” Cisco was as expected curious about all you had to offer. He’d been quizzing you since he got back from as he phrased ‘superheroing.’

“They're like guardians, they protect witches like me. Macy and her sisters, their witches like me. I needed to take a break from the whole helping save the world thing. It seemed safe now so I thought I’d do a little universe jumping. My day job was getting a little stressful too. My brother thought I could use the relaxation so he’s running our business right now. I wonder sometimes if we’re even related because the guy loves working. Guess you get that way when you work long enough and I feel like I’m rambling, am I rambling?”

“Annoyingly.” came Harry’s flat response.

“Kay..so do you guys mind if I stick around town for a while. I can even help with your little meta problem which is even crazier than fighting demons every once in a while. “

You were grinning so widely, Barry didn’t really have the will to turn you down.

“S-Sure why not.”

“Are you serious Allen, for all we know this whole story could be made up. Witches, really? What if she’s just some psychopathic meta.”

“First of all, ouch, I’m not some psycho.” he looked utterly unimpressed.

“Is it really that hard for you to believe in magic, you fight superhuman people on the daily. “

“They were brought about by science, logical explanation. Magic isn’t real. No proof, no logic.”

You shifted from your seat, dusting your hands. Stepping closer, you stopped when you were face to face with him. He was pretty tall now that you were closer.

“Handsome.”

He was still somewhat glaring at you, and the others in the room were watching in anticipation.

“Let our eyes reveal what cannot be seen, and show those what seems make believe.” you turned your palm, and Harry’s gaze shifted to the pink light now emitting from your hand.

“Terra, ventus, ignis, aqua.” 

Right before his eyes, he could see the elements swerving in your hand. The four major elements connected, right before they rose, in seconds the light from you dissipated, flashing quick and evaporating, leaving nothing but bright specs of what appeared to be crystals. Harry gaped.

“Awesome…” Cisco muttered.

“Somethings in life aren’t logical Harrison, doesn’t mean they don’t exist. Love, fear, hope...these are all things that exist, but we can’t see it, touch it, does that deter the belief in its existence?”

Harry was speechless. This time when you watched him, you were just beaming, and he couldn’t comprehend why it erupted a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. You just stared at each other, after a few silent moments, Harry moved his gaze to the floor, clearing his throat and adjusting his glasses. Without another word he was walking off. You watched him until he made it around the counter.

“I think he likes me.”

Cisco laughed, and so did everyone else in the room.

[shaekingshitup]

MIRACLES HAPPEN

DAY ONE: TANGERINE

A/N: Y’ALL! I WAS DUPED! @teakturn puts out a 25 Days of Christmas every year and my dumbass said I would do it too. But I decided to add a little diversity to the culture and we’re doing a Chrismukkah adventure this year on this blog! This is picking up after this request that I got earlier this year. None of this shit is proofread because I am literally just writing by the seat of my pants so read at your own discretion. I will probably end up rewriting this entire mini series in the future. But enjoy it now. If you wanna be tagged, lmk! Also, I know that in In Sight I said there was a cure for COVID. Swap that out for a vaccine y’all. Viruses can’t be cured. 

Word Count: 2300 

DAY ONE: TANGERINE

December 18, 2022

“Baby you ready?!” Tre called into the house as reached into the basket on his way to the garage. He came up empty handed for the keys to his Lexus. Opening the door to the garage, he saw Sol sitting in the passenger seat of the running car. 

Tre walked over to his baby as Sol smirked at him. 

“You late again,” she said. 

“I’m never late,” Tre said opening the door and climbing in,  “You just early as always,” he shot back as he put the car in reverse. Sol playfully rolled her eyes. After two years of being together, this was always their running joke. The first time they’d met, she’d been pacing back and forth awaiting his arrival. Even after finding their own groove, she still found herself being the one waiting for him- but, he always made it worth it so it was hard for her to complain.

Tre pulled out of the driveway and clicked the remote to shut the door. Out of instinct, his hand went to Sol’s thigh when he put it in drive. “Did you grab my yarmulke?” Tre asked as he threw her a glance. 

“Please don’t insult me. This ain’t my first feast Nemo.” the indignant manner which she spoke had her and Tre struggling to keep in their bouts of laughter. “Yes, baby. They’re in the backseat.” 

“Good. Good. What’s the other name for them again?” Tre asked as he merged onto the nearly empty highway. A five a.m call time could be a blessing and a curse. 

“Kippah” is the Hebrew word for the male cap and “kippot” is the Hebrew word for the female cap.” Sol answered on autopilot as she mused on their situation. She was still taken aback that they’d been contacted by Black Juice to begin with. She’d been following them ever since they’d done that feature with Drake talking about how his own Jewish faith influenced his career path. Although she wasn’t as active in her Jewish faith as she’d wished she’d been in recent years it was still a huge victory to be acknowledged by the leading Black Jewish media network. Okay so maybe they were the only Black Jewish media network. But that definitely meant they were in the lead! She wasn’t stupid to think that this kind of opportunity would have come without Trevante in her life. But, she wasn’t gonna knock it either. 

This 8 Days of Miracles was the perfect task she needed as she figured out what the next step was for her career. Now that she’d finally finished her academic portion of her career she wasn’t sure how to proceed. So throwing herself into this project and hosting both her family and Tre’s for the holidays was the best distraction she could ask for. This time always gave her hope and made her realize that any kind of bullshit she’d put up with wasn’t in vain. It was her annual reset. New Year’s be damned. It also made her feel closer to her father and there wasn’t anyone in this world she’d loved more. At least that’s what she’d thought. She felt pressure on her thigh from the number one contender for her heart as Tre gave her a slight squeeze. 

“What’s on ya mind Sunshine?” Sol looked down at his hand and couldn’t help but cheese. She still beamed every time he called her by that nickname. 

“I was thinking about my dad and how proud he’d be to see me reppin his faith,” Sol said absentmindedly touching her necklace. Tre listened attentively as he grazed his thumb against her thigh in a gentle motion. “ I mean, I don’t know if he could have known that all of the years he instilled in us the value of miracles when we were children we’d still be celebrating Hanukkah after he was gone.” 

“I’m sure he didn’t know.” Tre started out slowly. He honestly wasn’t even sure if she’d finished her thoughts, “But, he probably hoped you would.” The phone rang as they turned off the street and into the lot. “STEPH 👷🏿‍♀️💪🏿” flashed across the Caller ID on his dashboard. Tre clicked the answer button on his steering wheel as Sol handed him his badge to show to Nico, the Security Attendant. 

“We’re at Security Steph,” Tre answered as he nodded at Nico. 

“Okay good. I just wanted to make sure we were starting the day off on time.” Tre and Sol shared a glance. 

“Woman don’t start with me. Call time is 5 and it’s 4:39. We don’t play that late shit over here and you know it.

“Well,  I also grabbed your favorite donuts from Craft Services so no one else would steal them and I wanted to know how long I had to hoard them for your ungrateful self. I can put them back if you’d like sir,” 

“Steph. You can ignore Tre.” Sol chimed in. “We appreciate you and will be walking in the door in exactly 2 minutes. Tre is parking as we speak. We’ll see you soon.”

“Tre, you lucky you have her. Keep her if you want to keep the best managent in town. Bye y’all!!” Steph sang as she hung up. Sol let out a cackle because Steph refused to be referred as anything other than a managent as Tre stood there dumbfounded at how he was being left out to dry. But he knew better than to go against two black women before he’d even finished his morning coffee. He just hopped out the whip and opened Sol’s door so she could do the same. 

Once they’d gotten their morsels of food, gone through hair and makeup and snapped a few photos for Black Juice and their own social media accounts, they were back on the road headed deeper into LA. They had a cameraman in the backseat filming their every move, one car guided them to their location and another followed them as they maneuvered through the cars that were poppin up for their morning commutes. Sol was on her IG live and answering any questions that popped up about where they were headed and her Hanukkah festivities. She watched as the number quickly jumped from 5,000 viewers to 13,000 and counting. She wasn’t sure what this many people were doing up at this hour but she wasn’t complaining. Tre’s mama was of course one of them. He was a mama’s boy through and through and she was always there to support him at any opportunity she could. Sol made sure to greet her specifically. Tre bopped his head to some Jill Scott- being careful not to let his yarmulke fall. Sol sipped some hot cocoa from her thermos and sang off key with him. As soon as they turned on a residential street, she felt awash in a new warmth that the hot chocolate couldn’t touch. She shook Tre’s arm enthusiastically. 

“It’s time!!” she beamed, “Are you ready?!” Tre chuckled at her immediate change in attitude. The car in front was already parked and the camera crew was out on the sidewalk. 

“Yes Sol. I’m ready to spread some holiday cheer. Let’s go make somebody’s day he said. Before Tre could even put the car in park, she was reaching for the handle” 

“AHT AHT AHT” Tre barked out loud causing the cameraman man in the backseat to jump,“ Tre was already exiting the driver’s side and pointed his finger at her as he crossed in front of the car “Don’t even try it.” Sol rolled her eyes and pouted as she waited the few seconds for him to open her door. 

“Thanks Tre,” she stuck out her tongue. She was like a kid in a candy store and was ready to full out sprint to the front door. The IG live comments were flying. 

Okay Daddy Tre! I need a mans to talk to me like that. 🥵🥵

Did this man just bark at her? 🐶

Loook so long as he handles this backdoor he can open any other door that he pleases sis!

Y’all females is wylin as usual. 

Sol glanced at them. “Imma need y’all to stay out of grown folks’ business and just enjoy this holiday work we are puttin in okay” She handed her phone to another crew member and grabbed Tre’s hand to drag him to the front door. 

She pushed the button for the doorbell but no sound rang out. Tre gave three succinct raps on the door and heard someone rushing down the stairs. The door was flung open by a woman in black slacks and a blinding blue polo emblazoned with a nametag that ironically labeled this young woman as “Tangerine”. She couldn’t be more than 25 years old and the toddler saddled on her hip only added to her youthful appearance. 

“Hi Tangerine,” Tre began, “My name’s Trevante and this is Sol,” he gestured to Sol at his side. 

“Hi?” Tangerine answered confused at this couple and the cameras that followed them. 

“We’re here today with Black Juice, a local Black organization that highlights the experience of the Black Jewish community and we’re doing 8 Days of Miracles,” 

“Okay..” Tangerine said not sounding any less confused. “ I’m not Jewish.”  Sol took over as she could tell that Tre’s efforts weren’t getting them anywhere.

“We’re here because your friend Kira sent in a letter telling us about  how great of a mother you are. She said that you’ve been working two jobs here to support you and your daughter.” At this, Sol smiled at the baby, “She told us that the second job you have is for daycare expenses alone.  We wanted to come out here today and let you know that we see what you do and how hard you go to make sure you give your daughter the best. So, we wanted to help you out and give you this. “ Tre gave her the envelope he had in his hand. It read “Day 1: Tangerine”

Tangerine took the envelope as Tre explained. “We’ve paid for your daughter’s child care for the next two years so you can give yourself a break.” She opened the envelope to see the receipt from Tiny Tots Kindercare and didn’t even know what to do. 

“I don’t know what to say.” She paused for a moment as what this truly meant registered in her mind. “I can quit this job and actually spend more time with my baby and focus on my candles.” 

“Your candles?” Sol asked. 

“Yeah. I make candles by hand. I took a few classes and have played with a few scents. Some friends have asked me to make them some and I’ve been waitin to be a little more secure with my money before I start at it.” she answered exhaling deeply. 

“Do you have any candles right now?” Tre asked peeking a little further in her apartment. Sol slapped his arm. 

“Could you be any nosier?” she chastised with love. 

“Yeah I have some. Do you mind holding Layla?” she asked but she practically threw the child into Sol’s arms as she ran to grab her stash of candles. Sol put on her sweetest voice and spoke to Layla about how old she was and if she liked her friends at daycare. When her mom came back Sol could see the sheer joy that she had when showing off her handiwork. 

Tangerine went through all six of her candles and their various scents with them and by the end Tre had bought each one. She was floored and couldn’t do anything but cry at the way her morning was turning around. It wasn’t even 7:30 and she’d already gotten 2 years of childcare, a reason to quit her grocery store job and someone who actually wanted to buy her candles. 

Before they left, Tre made her promise to hit him up when her site and IG were live so he could get more candles and share it with all of his friends. Sol returned Layla to her mother saying her goodbyes and grabbed Tre’s hand to head back to car. She leaned on his shoulder and he could see the contentment in her eyes. Sol almost forgot her phone before a crewmember handed it back. 

She came back to the IG Live trying not to get too emotional. “Look at that y’all! Day one of Hanukkah is off to a start and we’ve already proved that miracles happen! Y’all better stay tuned in over the next week so you can see who we pop in on next. You never know if it could be you! Thanks to Black Juice for giving us this opportunity to turn someone’s ordinary day into something smile about. Y’all betta check them out so you can see the full footage of what we’ve got goin on! Bye y’all!

“Bye y’all!” Tre called out. They answered a few more questions with Black Juice, said their goodbyes and climbed back into their car. 

“Can we go back to bed now?” Tre asked as he pulled back onto the main road and his hand founds Sol’s thigh again. Sol laughed. 

“I mean if that’s what you prefer we can. I had some other things in mind.” she suggested. 

Tre raised his eyebrow. “I swear you see one baby and you always go 0 to 100”

“Look, I just believe in practicing all aspects of having a child! Even the making part.” 

Tre threw his head back laughing. “I’m wit it babygirl”

DING! 

“That’s me” Sol said. She looked at her phone screen. A text from “Mama Rhodes” popped up.  She’d sent some Pinterest looking bible verse again. 

This was the third one this week. It dampened her mood immediately and caused her to groan. The text read: 

Seeing you with that little girl made me so happy for the good Christian grandbabies that you and Tre will be blessing me with in the future. I thank Jesus for the miracle of you and my baby everyday XO. 

“Tre, I got another one from your mom. When are you gonna talk to her?” 

Tre sighed. “I promise. I’ll talk to her soon and it will definitely be before your Chrismukkah Extravaganza. Don’t sweat it baby.” 

Sol did her best not to think about how pushy his mother was being about this raising Christan grandbabies nonsense ever since they announced they’d be partnering with Black Juice. All she could do is trust Tre and do what she was best at: wait. 

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

@ghostfacekill-monger @thadelightfulone

[nervousndepressd]

damn im kinda happy for once, but its been a week

n idk why im expecting u to act text me back, ik i said i needed space and i do that wasnt a lie but you said u had stuff to say, said u couldnt say it then but u were going to text me and now im waiting

its like i try to get closure yet somehow u leave it open ended and leave me wanting more

told myself a few days ago id just have to get through a week or so but honestly i just want to text you again

i want you back in my life again even if it means pain, i dont care about the yelling or the lying and the awful things

i want love like we had, i want security like we had, but i cant have those with anyone else because im recovering from being with this kinda assholey dude since i was a kid

you fucking charmed me so bad in eighth grade, i felt like i was the most special girl in the world and i didnt even know it, fucking no one since has topped how u made me feel then, and we barely knew eachother

i miss when it was like that, i dont miss senior year, i dont miss you ignoring all my concerns and wanting to just focus on the future, not what needed to be fixed

i dont miss worrying you loved other people, or that you kissed or fucked other people, i dont miss worrying that someone else out there was getting that charm that i got and i just had to be your thing at home

i dont miss being told i was abusive for having breakdowns and hurting myself, or screaming when all you did was yell at me about the little things

but i miss who you were, i miss who you were in my head for so long, this sweet loving kind person who just wanted to make me laugh and love me, someone who made me feel less crazy for loving so hard and not caring about much else

but you never really were that person, you always wanted something from me i could never give you, something that you maybe still dont know what you want

and im still chasing that person you were, maybe in others, and in you

i secretly hope every time i say enough, or everytime i text or call, you'll put your foot down, youll tell me what you really want and that itll be me

i felt so inlove for a minute when you ran outside your work when i walked past, like maybe this was it

maybe he'll ask me to go get dinner, or actually set some time aside just for me again, he can make me feel smart and loved

hell make me laugh and charm me again like he did all those year ago

but he didnt, he let me down and just didnt get to any of it

hes been so lost for too long, he doesnt know what or who he wants, deep down i wosh it was me but its not

im just not who he loves, not like that

maybe it was about possession, or nostalgia

i know he loves me, like really loves me

but its how a young boy loves his first crush on an older woman

i was infatuation, i was pretty tall and strange

i was those women he saw in movies next to the men he related to

and i saw myself in those women and i saw him in those movies but i knew they were tropes, i knew that most of the time those women ended up dead or cast aside as well

that most plots would make those men leave the gurls like me for the sweeter, the more normal, the right option

i was always just a memory, a really good time, good in bed or good to make him think about himself

just not good enough for a wife, or mother

not enough to be a step daughter, not enough to introduce to friends because they never liked me

he would always say i never liked them, that i didnt enjoy his companies

but they, everytime, disrespected me, or our love, they would tear me down infront of u and youd watch

i wouldnt have been surprised if one day one of your friends tore of my shorts and started fucking me over a countertop and you either joined in or laughed

what really was i to you?

your not blocked, your still on tumblr so i wonder if your reading this

i hope you do

so what is it?

do you just want to fuck me? fine i dont care you can, my body means nothing to me. you can just use me, you and your friends to just gag me so i dont say a thing and use my in your big fancy fucking house that you seem to love so much

or do you want to marry me? do you want to charm me, be mine, respect yourself more and respect me. stand up for us both and not back down when your roommate slaps my ass infront of u

whats it really matter i dont think youll see this, you dont seem to care how im doing anymore

i feel like youd just rather the first option, maybe i would too

its easier, easier if im bent over in your living room to just let it all out

[leapyearkisses]

For the director’s cut: Orbs Are Bad News, please? Part 2 (or both, if you’re willing!) It’s one of my favorites 💗

One of my favorites, too! Thanks for the ask! :D I'll do both parts, with Part 2 to follow this a bit later.

Director's cut comments in bold below the cut! MESS, m/m, holding a handkerchief, etc.

This story came from a prompt on a writing meme about a character losing the use of their hands while having to deal with snz. I can't remember at the moment if the prompt was D&D-flavored or if I just picked that setting myself because I was really into playing the game at the time (still am!). Also I'm incredibly sleep-deprived, so I hope these comments don't ramble overmuch.

"Okay, we don't know what we're dealing with here, so let's be careful." Gerrit pushed open the heavy wooden door and lifted his torch to illuminate the room inside. The firelight played over several tables covered in intriguing objects and glinted teasingly off of more than one hint of gold. Gerrit himself spotted a stolid wooden chest in the corner and his heart rate quickened.

When I was a kid, my mom gave me the Dragonlance books and I fell in love with them, although it was a long time before I was able to play D&D myself. I attribute my love of the very traditional fantasy realm to these books and my enduring love of sickly mages to Raistlin (Soulforge was like an EXPERIENCE for me). Gerrit has his origins in Tanis Half-Elven - he's a good guy, kind of a normal/default fighter build. "Jackpot," breathed Remembrance, the party's resident ne'er-do-well. She rubbed her hands together, sharp nails clicking. Gerrit was sure she was assigning price tags to the lot of it, except for whatever she hid in her bags for herself, of course. "I know a guy in the capitol who'll pay through the nose for that pervy little statue there." "That is a religious object," chastised Cordes with a haughty tsk. "It's used in rituals of worship for the goddess Fortuna." "Oh, I'm sure he'll be worshipping," cackled Remembrance, and she slipped past Gerrit into the vault. "Few hundred gold and he'll be rubbing out a grand ol' prayer." Her pointed tail waved with greedy delight. "Hey! The proper course of action would be to bring it back to a temple!" Cordes went after her, pushing Gerrit aside.

Remembrance and Cordes are here to be the beta couple and provide background color. Their development was based on a few factors: A) a D&D party should have ~4 people with different abilities (fighter, sorcerer, cleric, rogue), B) a priest and a devil is never not a fun/ny dynamic, C) I'm not into F snz but I feel bad that most of my OCs are not women, and D) given that Gerrit is a "default" archetype, there needed to be differing characters to contrast his personality with (or he would seem to have none). Also I like dirty jokes, so Remembrance can be my humorous id for this purpose lol The half-elf grumbled but wasn't surprised. "At least TRY not to touch anything cursed," he called. He'd been the one to organize this little band, but although he was the one who reported to their patron, he had precious little influence over what they did. They were happy to point to him when some upstart had a problem with the party, though. Ingrates. He turned to the last member of the group. "What about you, Llewellyn? I thought I saw some books on the far table." "Lead the way," replied the sorcerer, and his usually mellifluous voice sounded strained. Purple shadowed the hollows under his faintly luminous silver eyes, and he had his nose tucked into his handkerchief again. Gerrit hadn't spent much time around full elves, but he'd always believed they couldn't get sick, at least not like a human or dwarf. Llewellyn had been dragging since Saints' Day, though, and seemed to have come down with a flu. His skin, where visible under his fitted robes, was wan.

Fuck up that slender, haughty elf man is an endlessly running subroutine in my head. "Sure," said Gerrit, and he stepped into the room, holding the door out so that Llewellyn could join him. "You, uh, you don't look like you're feeling any better." "Oh," said the sorcerer, "I'm not. I ran out of tonics." He entered the vault and walked over to one of the tables, investigating a strangely shaped glass bowl. "But as we were already down here, I'm not sure what you want me to say. There's no inn at which I might rest my weary bones." "Cordes could make you an herbal remedy," Gerrit grumped. He went over to the chest he'd seen earlier and smashed the lock off with the pommel of his dagger. He didn't need any fancy lockpicking tools like Remembrance's. And hitting something felt good when his companions were all intent to be annoying, acerbic, or both. "I suppose," Llewellyn replied, sounding uncertain as his voice wavered. Gerrit tried to ignore the way his ears heated at that. That was the tone that overtook the elf when he was preparing to sneeze. It wasn't any of Gerrit's concern. His occasional roll in the hay (literal and figurative) with Llewellyn did not make it easier or more appropriate to acknowledge his odd attractions, especially since they were currently ransacking a dungeon with a priest and a psychopath. He focused his attention on searching the chest, and he was rewarded with a heavy coin purse, a stack of calfskin-bound journals, and a ruby the size of a robin's egg. He whistled.

Gerrit and Llewellyn are the dynamic opposite of Eliseo and Padgett. Gerrit is the less-privileged, more personable, "low class" character and Llewellyn is the high-born, fussier, sarcastic noble; however, in this story Gerrit is the voyeur character with the fetish and the POV window while Llewellyn is tortured for everyone's amusement. Narratively it's more fun and easier for me to describe the non-fetish-having character because I also like the power of the narrator to be that voyeuristic eye. Llewellyn gasped. "Hah- hahttsch-ow!"

I made myself laugh while writing this hahah "'Ow'?" Cordes appeared from behind a bookshelf, one arm wrapped tightly around a thick rug, the other reaching for his pack of salves. "What is it? Cut? Burn?" When Gerrit looked, their sorcerer was rubbing his nose with his left hand. "Bruise," Llewellyn said. He lifted his right hand, in which he held a blue crystal orb that was knotted inside a thin lattice of gold chain. "I got my hand caught." He'd apparently run the thing into his nose when trying to cover his sneeze. Llewellyn's thin face was already dusted pink from the embarrassment. Gerrit couldn't help but laugh. "Very graceful," he chuckled. "I will thank you for keeping it to yourself," Llewellyn replied, and that was elvish dialect for "fuck you." Gerrit laughed again.

Embarrassment is a huge part of my enjoyment of this kink because of the ensuing power dynamics. The victim is thrown into disequilibrium by something (snz) that is inherently seen as socially inappropriate, disgusting, or at least uncomfortable. Almost always their reaction is outsized to what it would probably be outside of a fet context (most people can sneeze in public without feeling shame - which is the typical mode, lol. It's a normal bodily function). However, then the other character, motivated by their BF's anxiety and potential humiliation is prompted to caretake and comfort them, "approve" of the "shameful" act, and deepen the intimacy of the couple. They can also enjoy the embarrassment and the act voyeuristically while feeling their own discomfort about watching, then deal with either having to divulge the kink or be found out by their partner later (because consent is the sexiest thing, really). But I love my characters and I'm not into hardcore stuff so much, so there are almost never any consequences of the "humiliation" - the characters do not get caught out, they do not get shamed by society, they do not actually lose face or have to explain their sexual preferences to anyone who should not know them.

Now you know way too much about my psychology but also the basic formula for any kink story I have written or will write in my entire life. Yay! Cordes had leaned over to see the orb better in the firelight. He was the only one among them whose vision was hindered by the dim light. "What kind of artifact is this?" he asked. "It doesn't resemble anything I've studied."

Lol humans don't have darkvision. "I'm not sure." Llewellyn held it up to the torch. The orb lit up like a lamp, but otherwise nothing happened. "Whatever this chain is, though, it's very prone to tangling." He tried to shake it off his wrist and failed. This was a task for both hands, and he set to freeing himself. And kept trying. And trying. Gerrit frowned. "What are you doing? Cordes, would you get that off of him?" "Sure." The priest reached out to help, but Llewellyn suddenly backed away out of reach. "Uh... I'm not trying to steal it, elf." "Oh, I would let you take it," Llewellyn said, scowling. "But I have a feeling we would be in for some trouble if you touch it now." He held up both hands. His palms were wrapped around the crystal and bound with the ball in that thin gold chain. "I am... I'm stuck."

---

"STUCK," hooted Remembrance again. She was crouched at the entrance to the dungeon - a root-cellar-like set of doors they'd found in a small bandit settlement - and hauling out a heavy pack stuffed with loot. In the daylight, she looked menacing and out of place, her horns, dusky maroon skin tone, and black eyes setting her apart from this land's primarily human residents. "And you even said not to touch any curses!"

Jump cuts are funny! I love this kind of thing, honestly. It's some of my favorite humor - that and dramatic irony, which is also often depicted in visual media with a funny jump cut. "I recall you said so as well," said Cordes, who looked exactly like a run-of-the-mill human resident except for the star-like scar on his left temple. He reached down and grabbed Gerrit's hand, steadying the half-elf as he climbed out of the hole. Llewellyn was hanging uncomfortably on Gerrit's back, arms looped around the other man's neck. They'd tried to find a more dignified way to get him out of the dungeon, but he couldn't manage the ladder well enough without the use of his hands. "The artifact didn't react to my detection spell," sniffed Llewellyn disdainfully, and Gerrit was quick to set him down before that sniffing could become another sneeze. He didn't want to blush in front of the others.

Blushing is very appealing to me, so everyone blushes all of the time. "There must be someone in Veigh who can help you," Gerrit said. "We'll just swing by on our way to the capitol." The city was three days out of their way, but they couldn't have Llewellyn stuck this way for the two week trip back to their patron. With his hands bound, he couldn't cast any spells that required him to gesture, and that was almost all of them. He'd effectively rendered himself completely useless in combat. Veigh had a chapter of the Mages Guild in residence, though, and if no one there could help, they might at least be able to send Llewellyn on ahead via a transportation spell.

Let's go on a short tangent about names. Usually I name my characters using Babynames.com or similar sites and I pick based on the look, sound, and meaning of the names. For this little group, things were slightly more haphazard. Llewellyn is a Welsh name meaning "leader." I just happen to like this name already, but it also has a visual beauty and difficulty to pronounce on sight that lent it well to an elf character without me having to look up specifically elven names. When I make elf characters in D&D, I tend to give them a nickname or alias that is easy to remember and pronounce so that the name isn't a hindrance while playing the game.

Gerrit's name was picked based on sound. It is similar to the Welsh name Gareth ("spear ruler"), which is on purpose, but it was altered to make it a bit more fantastical/removed. It's appropriate for a fighter in meaning but also suits his more familiar/pedestrian half-elven experience vs. that of a noble elf.

Cordes was given a short name because he is a no-nonsense human, but I chose it to resemble that of conquistador Hernan Cortes because of the "holy invasion" and "treasure hunter" associations. Remembrance is named using the PHB's suggestion that tieflings often pick "ideal" names for themselves, and she has a complicated past (like most tieflings). "I will hope there is." Llewellyn looked pale and worn, though his fine features still exuded the otherworldly beauty of the high elves. His hair was a silky black, although mostly covered by his hood, and the contrast made his silver eyes look even more curious. He fumbled for a minute at his waist before scowling heavily. "I can't get into any of my bags, of course..." "What do you need?" asked Gerrit. Remembrance had started off through the trees, humming, her bulging pack swaying with her sinuous movements. Gerrit really didn't want to let her get too far ahead, not least because she was scary good at concealing herself in the foliage and might slip the party completely. However, Cordes was with her, and Llewellyn couldn't exactly fend for himself right now. "My handkerchief..." The elf's voice had gone wavery again, and Gerrit watched as his nostrils flared. Fuck.

Oho! Here is the plot and the kink conceit. Gerrit hurriedly patted his pockets until he produced his own handkerchief, or what he bothered with when necessary. It was a large square of flannel, rough around the edges. It wasn't embroidered or monogrammed like Llewellyn's, but he figured by now the flannel was a hell of a lot cleaner, and it was soft for an irritated nose. "Here, take mine."

Characters' belongings are also a good way to contrast their situations and personalities. I don't consider handkerchiefs particularly vital to my enjoyment of this kink, but they are a useful visual and I like to describe things. Small details like this are how you can worldbuild without having to do too much extra research. Llewellyn held out his hands plus the orb for it, breath hitching, but no matter how Gerrit tried to drape the cloth, it kept slipping off of the artifact. He supposed he could try to tie it around the-

This is just so funny to me XD Llewellyn made a desperate sound and tipped his head back, exposing the long line of his throat. His breath was coming in soft pants now. And he was raising the orb reflexively. Gerrit couldn't let him whack himself in the face again, so he did the only other thing he could think of. With one hand he reached out and took Llewellyn by the shoulder. With the other, he lifted the handkerchief and pressed it over the elf's nose. His fingers settled firmly on either side of Llewellyn's nostrils, and none too soon. After another half-hitch, Llewellyn ducked forward again with a quiet but insistent sneeze. "Happtsch!

One of the most pleasing sneeze sounds, tbh. Gerrit was sure he was beet red. “Bless you,” he mumbled. Through the cloth, Llewelyn’s nose felt hot, and any gentle pressure resulted in a bit of a squish. “Let me just…” "Whh- wait-" Llewellyn leaned into the handkerchief. "I'm nh- I'm not done hhH-" His eyes slipped shut and he gasped again. Gerrit swallowed and tried to ignore the tenting of his breeches. "R-roger that." He could feel Llewellyn's nostrils twitching against his fingers. "Hh...Haah- Hapttschuh! Snrk... Aptschiu!" His body rocked, and he took a half-step forward. Gerrit could hear the thick sound of congestion in the elf's nose as he tried to stave off another sneeze.

The desperation, talking through the sneezing, and congestion are all vital parts of this scenario. Unavoidable embarrassment + disgust factor + need for caretaking/mitigation. "Blow your nose," he said. "It will help." Llewellyn hesitated, but in the end, he had to comply. There was nowhere for the mucus to go except out. He started to blow with a gurgle.

I used to be really against mess, but the taboo/disgust part of the brain turns off psychologically a LOT during arousal and now I really do not find snz interesting without it. Snz without mess isn't embarrassing enough or visually exciting. Gerrit moved the hand from his shoulder to start rubbing Llewellyn's back. The handkerchief and his fingers were rapidly growing damp, but he really didn't mind. "There you go." He held the handkerchief to Llewellyn's nose until the elf moved back on his own. His nose was red and tender looking, and his cheeks were flushed rosy. He didn't seem to want to meet Gerrit's eyes. Gerrit didn't mention it. He didn't really want to look at Llewellyn either right now. It had been a while since the elf had looked so very fuckable.

Potentially due to my propensity to write fanfic about established ships, all of my OCs apparently have a history or mutual attraction out of the gate. On one hand, it's difficult just mechanically to write a scenario about a romantic or sexual encounter without there being chemistry and an excuse for them to already want to rub bits (obviously), especially in short stories, but I also cannot stand the thin veneer of situational causality that underlies porn (to borrow from Cards Against Humanity). If I can't care about my characters' lives outside of the one random fetish scenario, I can't care enough to write about them at all. He put the handkerchief in an easily-accessible outside pocket of his vest. "Ready to go?" Llewellyn coughed lightly. "Yes." "Excellent." Gerrit gestured for Llewellyn to precede him, and the two of them headed out through the trees, following the sounds of Cordes negotiating the underbrush and swearing about it. --- Travel proved easy enough once they made it to the road. They were fortunate not to meet anyone else along the way. The party could handle a group of bandits without their sorcerer, but they had their treasure to worry about, and Remembrance always drew stares, and sometimes aggression, even from normal travelers. Gerrit thought her skills more than made up for the extra negative attention they drew. And anyway, Remembrance was crazy but she wasn't evil. She did better out on the road than in town, but that was probably true of all of them. Llewellyn kept up with her pace, but it was clearly a struggle. He was usually fairly quiet, but he didn't speak at all as they walked, focusing on breathing and not devolving into coughing or more sneezing. There were a few times when Gerrit hastily reached into his pocket, at the ready, but Llewellyn fought back the itch with admirable determination. He kept his nose from running by sniffling heavily, which sounded somewhere between awful and revolting. Cordes commented on it multiple times with disgust, but nothing could be done. Llewellyn held his tongue, and Gerrit was reluctant in this case to offer the handkerchief without being asked.

Cordes is here providing the societal reaction and voice of reason lol, but there still aren't any consequences or shaming from them. I just imagine how fricking uncomfortable it would be if people acknowledged this porn scenario happening in-world and so that is never part of the story development. They found a place to camp about half an hour outside the small village of Tewks. Remembrance cleared out some brush to make a flat area for the bedrolls and then promptly decided she'd rather sleep in a tree with everything she owned. She found a good, solid oak a few yards from the camp and ensconced herself in the crux of its branches. She had a good view of the road in either direction and volunteered to take the second watch in the middle of the night, which was her favorite time. Gerrit agreed to take the first watch as Cordes started to set up his tent. The priest refused to sleep on the ground and always took an extra fifteen minutes to erect a curious one-person canvas canopy. It wasn't even large enough to sit up inside, but whatever. The priest never asked anyone else to haul it along, so Gerrit wouldn't complain.

Remembrance and Cordes are thus handwaved away from the sexual center of the plot and they will neither see nor hear anything they aren't invited to. These arrangements left him and Llewellyn alone together on one side of the fire, and he supposed that was preferable during the orb situation anyway. Llewellyn couldn't handle his own bedroll, help with the fire, or unpack any of their supplies. Gerrit realized he would probably have to help the elf eat, too. And... Well, when he noticed Llewellyn fidgeting uncomfortably, Gerrit took him out into a thicker copse to see to his other needs. They didn't talk about it... Llewellyn could hardly undo his own buttons, though, and it wasn't the first time Gerrit had taken over.

I am very into watersports, so it creeps in, although I don't think there's a friendly community out there for that like there is for snz, so I haven't developed any kind of presence for it. It appeals to me for pretty much all of the same reasons as described above. Maybe someday I will start writing those kinds of stories on this account as well, but I don't know if they would find an audience, so maybe not. By the time the fire was hot enough to cook over, Llewellyn had tucked himself up to sit on a tree stump, exuding an aura of furious self-reproach. Cordes took some jerky into his tiny tent with him - for some reason. Gerrit made up two bowls of pottage and sat himself on the ground at the roots of the stump. He put one bowl on the ground for himself and then held up the other. "Hungry?" "Not particularly," Llewellyn replied, voice blunted with congestion. He coughed. "But you're going to make me eat something, aren't you." "I'd prefer you do it willingly." Gerrit tapped the spoon on the side of the bowl. "Come on. It's hot. You'll feel better." Llewellyn growled in a manner more suited to orcs than elves. "I feel like an invalid." Gerrit sighed. "Well, if it makes you feel better, we can pretend you lost your arms in an owlbear attack very tragically." He could feel Llewellyn's fiery glare on him and smiled a little. "Look, we've all done stupid things while adventuring. I'm sure you remember when I tripped and knocked myself out on that knight's shield during the tournament." "I remember," replied the elf, begrudgingly. "Besides, you're sick on top of the whole orb thing. Maybe your detection spell wasn't sensitive enough. Maybe the thing's not even cursed! Maybe it's supposed to do this, and we just don't know why." "I have a hard time believing that. What possible purpose could this serve?"

Porn! Gerrit shrugged. "Don't ask me. Dad says my mother was a druid, but I haven't got a magical bone in my body." He tilted his head. "We could always try smashing it?" Llewellyn's rejection was forceful. "Do you want to explode?!" Gerrit chuckled. "Not really." Llewellyn sighed. Gerrit held out a spoonful of pottage. Feeding both Llewellyn and himself was a bit difficult, but Gerrit did well enough when he could alternate. It would be better if he could use both hands equally like Cordes, but he couldn't, and so he didn't. He just thought about it wistfully as he worked. Llewellyn ended up eating most of his bowl, then went back to sitting quietly and sniffling. Gerrit finished the rest and put the utensils aside to deal with later. And... Even though Llewellyn hadn't asked, he drew out his handkerchief again.

More caretaking, more intimacy. Gerrit is a kind and loving person even though he's a fighter by trade. "Hey," he began, trying not to sound awkward. "You wanna blow your nose?" No one else was paying attention and Llewellyn didn't need to inhale any more of that crap. The elf gave him a shitty side-eye. "Come on," said Gerrit. "Don't be like this." He patted the ground in front of him encouragingly as if Llewellyn was a recalcitrant cat. "I'm fine," said Llewellyn, and then betrayed himself with a quick breath. "Hah--" "Come on," Gerrit repeated, "before you make a mess."

He is also pretty comfortable talking about a lot of things that people with the fetish have generally admitted difficulty acknowledging. This is because even though he's the one with the fetish in this, he is also the "Padgett" character and practical and not caught up in the anxiety prison. Llewellyn came down off the stump to sit in front of him, legs tucked underneath, and rested the orb on Gerrit's thigh to balance himself. His eyes were pinched with reluctance, but Gerrit could see that the elf's nostrils were already damp. "Hah- hh- hurry," Llewellyn gasped.

People should sit in each other's laps. It's good. Again, Gerrit reached out with the handkerchief, enfolding his companion's nose. He could feel Llewellyn's breath fluttering against his hand through the fabric and hear quite clearly how it kept catching on congestion. "Hah-hngk- Hahgkttscht!" Llewellyn ducked forward with the force of it and Gerrit steadied him with a hand on his hip. "Ngkttsch! Hnggktxch!!"

The sneezes now involve nasal consonants because of congestion. Sometimes people tend to have a certain way their sneezes always sound, and I try to maintain that, but these details are important to show a change in the severity of the cold (and evidence of sniffling for hours). Gerrit bit his lip sharply to keep from saying anything, but his body was singing with arousal. Llewellyn hiccupped a short gasp and Gerrit pulled the handkerchief away to present a clean corner. The current spot had become soaked and silvery. "Bless," he managed after a moment, and he carefully readjusted the cloth. "Are you going to sneeze again?"

Hiccupping is also sexy and cute. Also I spelled that wrong in the original, gdi... Llewellyn nodded, eyes teary with the effort of the first bunch. Gerrit wasn't surprised; the elf had been holding back since they left the dungeon. He couldn't imagine it had been comfortable, but Llewellyn had his pride. He never would let Gerrit give him love bites either. Annnd Gerrit was going to have to stop thinking about that. "Haptsch!" Easier said than done. Really. But Llewellyn's comfort came first.

Voyeur with a heart of gold. "Hahkptsch!" The sorcerer groaned softly. "Hah- hh- Hgnaptscxhx!" Gerrit did his best to assist Llewellyn through the fit. He kept the handkerchief secure, moving it when necessary to keep it dry enough. He steadied the elf when the sneezes bent his body or when he felt faint from lack of breath. He even massaged Llewellyn's nose for him when he was trying to blow it and the congestion was stubbornly refusing to move. By the time he felt finished enough to lean back, Llewellyn was flushed and light-headed, swaying where he sat. Gerrit was sweating and needed a towel. "........Thanks," murmured Llewellyn, eventually.

Sometimes kink authors tend to just write out like twenty sneezes in a row and I hate that, honestly. (No shade - I don't even have an example in mind because I don't read a lot of stories anymore and everyone has their preferences.) I just think that the kink should support the storyline and not the other way around. The story should be enjoyable and sexy but have a narrative structure and coherent rising and falling action. Even if a fit is a sexy scenario (it is), trying to make your eyeballs power through a repetitive series of nonsense syllables is counterproductive and takes the reader out of the story and into the realm of annoyance, which disrupts arousal as well. "Yeah," said Gerrit. "Sure." He swallowed. "Let's wash up." He helped Llewellyn to his feet and they went a little way to a creek (generously; it was little more than a ditch through the woods). Gerrit gently washed Llewellyn's face, careful of his tender eyes and nose, and sent him back to camp to lay down for the night. He lingered at the water's edge to wash the handkerchief and, well, to take other matters in hand.

If ya know what I mean. Llewellyn was completely out when he returned, and Gerrit was grateful. He smoothed the elf's bangs back and then settled beside the fire to take watch. The woods in the dark were full of the sounds of insects and small animals moving in the undergrowth. And Llewellyn snoring and sniffling in his sleep. Safe sounds. Gerrit rested his chin on his hand and looked toward the road. Damn orb. It was going to be a long way to Veigh.

And this was getting long, so this is where I cut it to make part 2, which I will also commentate in a bit (hopefully after a nap =___=). Thanks!

[anika-ann]

Errare Humanum Est - Pt.7

Of Monsters and Men

Type: series, soulmate AU series  (part 1, part 2)      x Supernatural

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader (past?)    Word count: 2490

Summary: ‘Nat’ and the boys are still on the road and to kill the time more than anything, they talk monsters and most importantly, witches. 

You know what they say: speak of the devil and he shall appear.

Warnings: mentions of violence, monsters, supernatural elements, mentions of amnesia and interesting dreams and swearing (always)

Story masterlist

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“Hold onto me tight. Can’t have you falling off, doll…”

“You’re such a troublemaker-“

“I want to see you come undone first. Can I, doll?”

“Do I look unwilling, doll? I’m actually pretty eager to find out how long do you need to recover…”

“Eyes on me, darling-”

You jolted awake with a gasp for air, your eyes snapping open into sharp midday sun. It took you a second to realize where you were, what the low purr under your body meant, music on low volume and a male voice softly humming along.

You blinked, meeting Sam’s gaze as he turned his head to face you.

“Hey. You alright?” he asked, concern furrowing his features.

You took a deep breath, trying to ignore the blood rushing to your cheeks at the memory of the dream. They were bits and pieces, sweet and hot, yet leaving dull ache in your chest in their wake. You were absolutely sure this was your consciousness recalling moments with your soulmate, but you were unable to make anything useful of them. It was like chasing ghosts – eh, actually, did ghosts exist? What was it like, chasing them? Never mind-

You were supposed to be a ghost, because apparently you had died.

Alright. Shake it. Snap out of those messy thoughts.

The more awake your body got, the more you realized your chest wasn’t the only thing that was tense and it wasn’t only your neck that nearly cramped.

“Yeah,” you muttered finally, while Sam’s eyes managed to get really worried, still on you. “Just… call of nature.”

In more than one ways. Your bladder might actually burst soon, but you couldn’t deny your arousal either. Gee. Why did it have to be that kind of dream you had? Why couldn’t you see your soulmate’s face clearly instead? Nope scratch that, his ID would be better, complete with his freaking address.

“Hold on for about half an hour, Nat. I’d like to stretch my legs anyway and Garth should be waiting for us.”

You smiled at Dean despite him being unable to see it, his eyes focused on the road. It was sweet of him. You might as well be sweet back.

“Thanks, Dean. And you can turn the volume up, if it was low just because of me,” you hummed, holding back a chuckle when his hand immediately moved to the radio.

“Thanks, Nat. Wanna tell us what that dream of yours was about? You seem a bit shaky,” he nudged, surprisingly gentle. You would expect such approach from Sam, but he only glanced at you, apparently wanting to know as well.

You sighed, wondering how to put it without sounding like a horny teenager.

“It’s… I think they’re like memories? But they don’t make any sense,” you said in the end, casting your glance down, fiddling with the hem of your shirt, fingers interlacing and disjointing again. “It’s my soulmate, I know as much. Or, you know, I’m pretty sure. It’s nothing useful though.”

“I’m sorry,” Sam soothed, his voice genuinely regretful. You just shook your head, sending a sad smile his way.

“The only pattern is a… a pet-name, I guess.” Well, until now, it was just one. ‘Darling’ was new. “He keeps calling me ‘doll’.”

You didn’t know why you told them, you weren’t planning on it. Except they were so genuinely nice to you it hurt and you felt like honesty was the least you could give in return. Now, you could practically touch their surprise.

It was Dean who commented on it, but not in a malicious way, which you were eternally grateful for.  

“Doll, huh? Maybe he’s a mafioso. Sounds like something from an old movie. Heh, maybe you time-travelled too!” he speculated out loud and you only gulped, not as amused as you should be. Was that a thing? Time-travel?

“God, I hope not,” Sam whined, effectively startling you. So it was possible?

“Nah, I bet it’s just him being a gentleman, ya know, the old-fashioned kind of guy. After all, how could he not, having such a… swell dame for a soulmate?”

Both you and Sam eyes Dean with wary and confusion.

“Since when you’re an expert on war era slang?” Sam demanded, amused surprise lacing his voice.

“Simpler times, Sam. Simpler times. You’ll understand when you’re older.”

Sam just chuckled, shaking his head. You laughed as well despite not quite understanding what it meant. You simply enjoyed the banter and teasing that was strengthening their brotherly love; you already caught up that much, that they loved each other greatly. How could they not? They were both absolutely amazing despite their differences.

People might find it strange for them to be so close at their age – not that you knew theirs precisely, or yours for that matter – but you thought it was endearing. If they killed monsters for living, their lives couldn’t be normal and conventional, could they? It spiked your interest once more.

“Alright. What can you tell me about what you do and how you get your money?”

“Not sure you wanna hear that, d-- now I have the nickname stuck in my head, dammit. It’s not a pretty chat, Nat. You sure?”

You nodded, but agreed out loud for the god measure. After all, Dean was still driving.

“Your choice. We hunt monsters. But let me tell you, humans are actually the worst… well, humans and witches…”

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Dean and Sam hadn’t even told half about the monsters that lurked in the shadows and you already felt overwhelmed, grateful when you reached Bedford and the older brother called his ID maker.

Garth was a nice guy, if a little overexcited and goofy.

He called you a madam, gave Sam a newest book by George R. R. Martin (who?), which seemed to excite the hunter greatly and Dean received a piece of apple pie. You couldn’t remember your life, but if you had, you were sure it still would have been Dean’s smile that was the brightest you had ever seen. Note to yourself; when repaying Sam and Dean, a pie and a book were necessities.

Your trio didn’t stop to chat with the man for long though – you needed to be on your way. Garth was apparently in the business of hunting, because he made a face way too similar to Sam’s at a mention of witches. You weren’t sure if you looked forward hearing about those; you guessed they weren’t wearing pointy hats and befriending cats.

The remaining hours to your destination flied; the brothers continued to educate you in monster food chain (people were usually the food, which you did not enjoy learning), briefing you on existence of things you could barely imagine. Also, they weren’t only friends with an angel, apparently – they were also on rather good terms with king of Hell.

“King of Hell?” you parroted, bewildered. What the h— heaven?!

“Yeah. Dean used to be bestie with him, too,” Sam quipped, half delighted at his brother’s annoyed face when sharing this fact, half bitter for pretty obvious reasons.

“Dude.”

“You keep the weirdest company,” you stated, your head buzzing with all the info you got. You grimaced when you realized that the company included you.

“We know,” Sam sighed, turning his tablet on. “But it’s not all bad. I mean, Garth, the guy you just met… he’s a werewolf and-“

“He’s a WEREWOLF?!” you yelped, causing the brothers jump in their seats and Dean jerk the steering wheel aside, throwing you all of balance.

“Christ, woman! Keep the volume low!” the driver spitted out as he returned to the correct lane, ignoring the honks of other cars. “I know, I know, shut up, I’m not drunk…”

“Sorry,” you blurted out on autopilot, your mind pre-occupied with the fact that the sweet dorky guy you had just met was a fucking werewolf.

It was Sam’s turn to apologize or he thought so. “My bad. I shouldn’t have just dropped that on you.”

“But he was so nice!”

“If you say so,” Dean assented reluctantly, voice dripping with doubt. You weren’t trying to figure out why he questioned such an obvious thing. It wasn’t your place. Not to mention you were still too astonished by the announcement.

Sam cleared his throat. “Anyway. We have two victims so far. Both are young women, Alicia Peters, 16 years old and Helen Sanders, 16 as well. They were apparently classmates, rather good students, but not friends. One of them was found three days ago, the other yesterday. They both sneaked away in secret, some other classmates claimed to them being… eh, giggly. They thought they had new boyfriends,” Sam summed up, while Dean nodded every now and then. “Why do you think witches? Could be dragons… which would be probably even worse.”

“…dragons? You’re joking.”

Dragons were real now?!

Dean ignored your incredulous remark. “Virgins, right? That’s what I thought. But check this out – according to the coroner, they had a puncture wound over their heart like from some very thin needle – or, more likely, a very thin straw, because their hearts were completely drained of blood.”

Your head was definitely spinning now, your stomach flipping over. You had been getting hungry before, but not so much anymore. You wanted to tune the conversation out, but it was inevitable to hear it. Your ears wouldn’t listen; it was like watching a train-wreck happen and being unable to draw your gaze away. Morbid curiosity played a part too.

God, you really were weird company.

“That’s disgusting,” Sam stated, his fingers moving swiftly over the screen.

You only hummed in agreement, trying to get the visual from your brain. Soulmate. Think of your soulmate and his sultry voice calling you doll. You took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, shocked that it actually worked. His voice washed over you, cocooning you in a soft blanket.

“Tell me about it,” Dean agreed darkly, but Sam held out his hand all of sudden, causing both you and Dean freeze.

“What?”

“They found two young men this morning. John Doe One and Two for now. They were…” Sam wavered, eyeing you in the rear-view mirror. Now he was checking with you? You guessed your face was pale as a sheet of paper, but hey, it wasn’t like you couldn’t just try and cover your ears. You nodded at him encouragingly and he shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “…found in one bed, stabbed in the heart and… ugh, with their… tools ripped off.”

Dean winced, while you just blinked. Did he mean like… wow. Oh, wow. You weren’t sure how to react to that.

“There was a note. We apologize for ruining such pure lives of the sweetest kind and as a prove of our remorse, we present their families with-“ Sam faltered in his speech, gagging. “Yeah, alright. Apparently, the missing part of their bodies was found with the… note. No need to go into details.”

“Yeah, Sammy, I’d be pretty grateful if we stopped talking about that. What now, though? Do we believe this crap?”

“You could have an ally,” you quipped shyly, receiving Sam’s sigh in reply.

“Brutal one, but yes. We need to at least check it out.”

“Yeah, but we get a lunch before that. I need something to comfort me. You traumatized my love muscle, Sam. Do you have any-“

“Yeah, alright, just… stop right there,” Sam stopped his brother, as if shielding himself from TMI by holding out his palm against Dean. “Got it. We need to stop for a bite.”

You giggled, the sound interrupted by your stomach growling. When had you got your appetite back?

“I guess lady in the back agrees,” Dean hummed, grinning in Sam’s direction. You laughed when you came to conclusion that he enjoyed making his younger brother uncomfortable, Sam making a face back at him as he realized the same.

They seemed like a greater pair of siblings the longer you spent with them.

It only took several minutes to get to the town and find a place to eat; Dean seemed to have a talent for finding food, which you appreciated immensely. You hadn’t been eating much, ashamed of using the brothers like that, so you were hungrier than you would be willing to admit. You had a sneaking suspicion that Sam was beginning to notice, because his eyes were narrowed as you picked the cheapest thing on the menu that appeared edible.

“You’re not eating,” he pointed out bluntly the moment the waitress left.

You just gaped at being caught and so shamelessly called out. Dean’s gaze shifted to you and now you had two men glaring at you keeping you company in the boot.

“I’m… not hungry.”

“Your stomach said differently,” Dean reminded you with his eyebrow arched in challenge. You opened your mouth uselessly, the protest dying in your throat at the intensity of his bright green eyes. “If this is about money, get your head out of your ass, Nat. You need to eat.”

“But-“

“But nothing. We’re having a desert,” he shut you up effectively, not permitting any objections.

You sighed, guiltily merging with your seat. A menu was placed in front of you, Dean’s fingers pointing at it.

“Actually, you’re picking one right now.”

You wordlessly obeyed, defeated. “I don’t mean to be difficult,” you whispered apologetically and Sam just shook his head with a smile.

“We know. And I get it, you don’t want to impose and use us, but… we chose to help you. Try to accept it, alright?”

You only nodded, determined to at least find the best dessert. The corners of your lips quirked when you found it.

“Looks like we’re in for an apple pie,” you decided, smirking in Dean’s direction. His eyes lit up and you couldn’t but feel the warmth around your heart at that. You actually did that, made him smile. Maybe you weren’t the worst company in the world after all. “Unless you’re sick of it after-“

Dean’s hand snatched the menu away, shutting it close. “Shut you piehole, Nat.”

Sam laughed as they brought your food.

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You were just finishing your infamous dessert, when the brothers stiffened at the voice coming from behind their back, the other side of the boot.

You frowned, not finding anything strange about the female voice with British accent.

“Thank you, darling. It will be all,” the woman said politely.

The moment the waitress left, Sam and Dean stumbled from their seats and towards the other boot. The tension in their shoulders only grew and they let out a ridiculously synched irritated sigh, multiple emotions playing on their face; you caught annoyance and a bit of anger for sure.

“Rowena,” Sam greeted her in pretended politeness and you couldn’t but check the situation out. They didn’t seem to be happy about running into their acquaintance.

You got a glimpse of a redhead sipping at her tea delicately, her pinkie raised as she held her cup.

“Hello, boys.”

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Part 8

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I adore that woman, I swear. She’s so classy and sassy. 

Also, for those who haven’t seen SPN, I extended the guide at the end of chapter one - you’ll find ‘Chuck’ and ‘Rowena’ there ;)

Thank you for reading!

[brockboser]

Prince Charming and the pauper PT #1

AN: this is my first fan fic so let me know what you think and if you want another part! Suggestions are always welcome

Words: 2,400

About: Brock Boeser finds an unexpected love intrest....

YOUR POV

It was a pretty normal December night in Vancouver, Cold and snowy and all I wanted was to be hanging out with my friends around a fire drinking hot chocolate but of course I was stuck at work.. My name is Y/N I’m 22 years old and I work full time as a waitress at the Parlour in Yaletown. Now normally my shifts went by slowly and painfully, each day an exact copy of the day before with the occasional cute boy or maybe even a celebrity but for the most part my days blurred together as one. Work all day, sleep, repeat just so I could afford to live in one of the most expensive cities in the world, part of me didn’t mind, Vancouver really was an amazing place to live.

Today however was different. Every year the Vancouver Canucks hold their end of year dinner party here at the Parlour, I’ve been lucky enough to avoid it at all cost. Unfortunatly for me my luck has run out and I was scheduled to be one of 3 waitresses serving their party. Some girls would kill for this opportunity, serving rich professional athletes, but not me. I’ve served my fair share of hockey players and they all turn out to be assholes who don’t know how to leave a tip.

BROCK’S POV

I couldn’t really believe that this was my third end of year dinner as a Canuck, time has gone by way too fast. It was almost 6PM, I was waiting for Quinn to pick me up, he said he would be here by now and If we’re late I will beat his ass. He knows how much I hate being late. As if on que I felt my cell phone vibrate in my pocket. The Screen read “Huggy Bear” I chuckled to myself as I am still thankful that isn’t my nickname and I answered the phone. “hey you here?”. “Yeah hurry up, Green will kill us if were late” Quinn said so fast I barely caught what he said and the line went dead. I said goodbye to Coolie and Milo and I made my way to Quinn’s car.

Once I got into Quinn’s car it was only a 5-minute drive to the restaurant. Yaletown was our favourite place to get food, they have way too many places to choose from but the Parlour was one of the best. We walk up to the host and let her know we’re here for the dinner, she escorts us to the back room where the rest of the team was already seated. You could hear the boy’s voices echo through the whole restaurant. Guess that’s what you get with 20+ drunk men at one table. “yo that host was smoking, I’ve seen her here before and she was definitely interested in you” Quinn teases me but I do my best to ignore. Not to be cocky but girls tend to flirt with me all the time but on the contrary to what people think I’m not a player. I don’t flirt unless I’m interested which I never really am because it’s hard to know people’s real intentions when you’re a professional athlete, besides I’m not really looking for anything right now. I leave the flirting up to Jake.

5 minutes go by and we all finish looking at the menu, I always get the same thing a BBQ burger with a hey y’all as my drink but doesn’t hurt to look. As I put the menu down I notice three women walk into the room, we all drop our tones so we can tell the waitresses our orders. Two of them are the same as last year but one I did not recognize but wow she was beautiful and I don’t say that lightly.

YOUR POV

6PM rolled around quicker than I would’ve liked but I just wanted to get this dinner over with. Once we knew all the boys were seated and ready to order we went into the room, notepads in hand. We decided we would split the table in three and make it easier for ourselves that way. I’m not a hockey fan but I don’t live under a rock and I do recognize most of the boy’s I’m serving. I go from left to right, and to my surprise the orders are basic and the drinks are all beer which makes my life a lot easier and on top of that they all seem to be pretty nice. I finally reach the last two boys in my section of the table. Both look somewhat younger. One has dark brown curly hair with dark circles under his eyes, I don’t recognize him, he orders a burger as well as a beer, I furrow my eyebrows debating whether or not to ID this boy as he barely looks 17 but I decide against it as I know it would embarrass him and probably cost me a good tip. As I’m writing down his order I notice the boy sitting next to him eyeing me. I look up and make direct eye contact with two very blue eyes staring at me. I shift my feet and he look away. That’s Brock Boeser I recognize him from my friends fangirling over him last time we went to watch the hockey game. My stomach twists and I suddenly got nervous. He was kind of hot. I take a step away from the tired looking boy closer to Brock to take his order. “W-What can I get for you” I stuttered slightly, and I NEVER stutter when taking orders. What was wrong with me this boy isn’t anything that special, although his hair does flow kind of nicely. “Um can I please get the BBQ burger and a Hey y’all” he said softly. “yeah good choice, can I please see your ID?.” As soon as those words left my mouth I instantly regretted them and I felt my cheeks get hot “my bad umm don’t need to see your ID never mind  I’m just going to go put these orders through” I said before I practically ran out of the room more embarrassed then I have ever been. I just asked BROCK BOESER for ID and not the 17-year-old looking kid sitting right beside him, I am such an idiot. I walked to the kitchen and put in the orders and just prayed he would still tip me. As I waited, I felt my mind drifting to him I had to shake it off as 1) I was at work, I have to be professional and 2) hockey players are bad news.

BROCK’S POV

The whole room went silent, and then everyone erupted into laughter and proceeded to tease me about what had just happened. “Mr. Sensitive getting ID’d sitting next to Quinner that’s classic” Taney shouted across the table. I felt myself smile as I thought about what had just happened, I could tell she was flustered and it was standard practice to ask for ID although I do look about 30. She ran away with the orders before I could even ask for her name. she was beautiful, long blonde hair, blue eyes and a lot shorter than me I’d say about 5’4 I couldn’t stop smiling and the boys started to notice. “ouu Boes is day dreaming” Petey joked “at least ask for her name” he said while giving me a nudge “yeah yeah I will” I replied

About 25 minutes went by and we were all a few drinks in, the girl still hadn’t returned I assumed she was avoiding me. Next thing I know the food starts to get brought in.  A part of me really hopped she would come back just so I could admire her again and maybe ask for her name. Moments later I see her long blonde hair turn the corner. She’s looking at her feet avoiding all eye contact. She approaches me and places the plate down in front of me and starts to walk away. All the boys were looking at me, waiting for me to make a move and ask for her name but I couldn’t seem to speak. “Hey miss!” I heard Petey yell. She turned around and looked at me and just as fast looked away and towards Petey. “Brock over here wants to know your name” he smirked and I felt my heart sink and bile rise to my throat, did he seriously just throw me under the bus like that. I was pissed. At first she didn’t say anything, she just stood there like she didn’t know what to do but her eyes shifted to mine as she said “ Y/N, my name is Y/N” and just like that she was out of the room before I could even ask her anything else. My emotion soon turned from happy to pissed off really quick. “Way to throw me under the bus Petey, she probably thinks I was talking about her now or something” I scoffed and sank into my chair like a child. “you should be saying you’re welcome, if I hadn’t said something you never would have”. Part of me knew he was right. I’m pretty shy and reserved and I like to keep to myself unless I know you.

YOUR POV

Did that really just happen. Did Brock Boeser really want to know my name or were his teammates just messing with me? Either way I can’t seem to stop smiling. I came into this night wanting nothing to do with it or these boys and all of a sudden the one boy I find attractive in there wants to know my name?.

The night is coming to an end, I’ve avoided the room as much as possible, I’ve been in and out grabbing plates and refilling drinks, no more comments have been made just many stares. We’ve made eye contact once or twice a small smile included but my time is up and it’s time for the bills. I go around my side of the table one by one receiving a very drunk thank you from each of them until I get to Brock. Apart of me wants to say something but knows its unprofessional. I hand him the card machine, brushing hands as he takes it from me and we both look at each other. Het lets out a small laugh, I could tell he’d had some drinks but not nearly as many as the rest of the boys which weirdly made me feel relieved. He puts his passcode in and hands me back the machine, I take out the receipt and notice he tipped me 200$. As he stands up to put his coat on I say to him “You must’ve made a mistake, it says you tipped 200$ maybe you mean 20$?” he turns to me a flashes a smile “No mistake you deserve It” I almost felt like crying of happiness as 200$ to me means a lot more then to him. “oh, wow um thanks you so much, I hope you have a good rest of your night” I say barely being able to suppress a smile.

“yeah about the rest of the night, I’m having some friends over and I wanted to know if you wanted to umm maybe join?’ he said somewhat hesitantly. Almost as if he was nervous.

“I finish shift in an hour” I replied more confidently then id expected. “oh, great okay here’s my number text me after for the address” he replied almost surprised I had said yes. I tried to keep my cool but inside my stomach was doing flips. Brock Boeser what are you doing to me…..

[sammysnaughtygirl]

FANFIC 'We meet again CHARACTERS:SOULLESS Sam & Grace with HALEY summary:grace and soulless sam meet a second time WARNING;; anger,violence,sex,adult language

Soulless sam was up to his usual thing hanging out at the bar looking for single women to hook up with he wasnt picky he would he just take any woman home at this point,he was just looking for a good time and some hot sex,he had been hunting all night and t was his time to have have some fun he thought.he skimmed the room searching or his prey there were plenty of beautiful ladies just waiting to be groped' but Sam wasnt satisfied until he heard her laughter coming from the entrance he turned just as she walked into the bar, she was wearing a dress that flung to her body and traced the outine .her long brownish red hair flowing behind her, as if she had won a contest Sam stood there in aw as she took notice of him watching her,she reached for her friends arm and whispered something into her ear as they both giggled,they continued to thier table, all the while not letting anyone intervine with them ,as Sam approached them thier glare outshined his glory,he didnt even stop to notice that Grace wasnt about to invite him to thier party!Sam started to speak when Grace tuned him out ,her friend haley wasnt about to go against her friend,so she too ignored him ,which made Soulless Sam fruious.his anger begin to boil as he tried to speak again,Grace spune around to face him why you just buzz off she snigered? i know your kind she told Sam, i know excactly what you want and you wont find it here so just beat it ,haley slide closer to Grace ,dont even think about touching her haley spoke she,s mine and only mine get it?Sam wasnt giving up so fast,so its like that Sam replied' yeah, thats right haley snatched his shirt collar dont you get that your not wanted here.dont do that Sam asked her nicely dont touch me. so get lost and dont think that your gonna touch something thats mine haley shouted to Sam.Grace was getting angry by this time with them both,stop Grace angrily shouted at them,im nobodys property, so just stop it .Haley apologized to Grace and suddenly left the room.Sam on the other hand wasnt about to leave without rising to the accoustion and earning what he had come for,so where,s your girlfriend going he asked Grace,she,s going to get our baby Grace replied to him,you ladies have a baby?yeah,we do its not your everyday normal baby ,but he,s ours.Sam was amazed at how calm Grace had grown,so this baby is it a boy or girl?well,id like to call him a boy but sometimes it seems we have a girl,Sam was confused,he shook his head your foolin .No i am not,Grace pointed to the door haley will be back and she will be bringing our baby when she comes,so i suggest you move it along sam', I knew we had meet before your voice, i reconized it the minute i heard you laugh well you need to forget it and me because my girlfriend and i dont want any trouble.oh, and thats what i am is trouble right? Im not afraid of you nor your girlfriend ,and what i want is you ,Sam stood staring at her with his eyes glued to hers ,just tell your girlfriend to back off,and we wont have any trouble ,cant you give her the night off or something? Grace thought for a minute and then she rembered something,that haley had brought to her earlier ,sure we can have one night but thats it ,it cant be anything more 'fine by me Sam shrugged as he agreed. give me some time,ill be back she assured Sam,Grace rushed over to the bar hand me the phone she instructed the server,as he girl behind the bar held out the reciever for Grace to take ,she dialed the number while waiting for an answer she imagined what was in store for the night a head of them ,she knew haley would understand why she had to agree to be with sam even for just one night the line stared to ring ,hello' haley calls out hi" haley please understand what im about to tell u ,but i need to end this thing with him right now,i totally get it haley nodded,but just rember ,i am here for you ,i love you no matter what ,i know you are Grace leaned in and hugged her girlfriend dont worry im gonna be fine. Haley knew how strong Grace was but that didnt take away her concern .Grace

turned to face Sam ,ok im ready ,while wrestling with what she knew she had to do and knowing what was in her heart,Sam brushed up against her to make it known what he was exspecting,sliding his hand down her backside ,lets go to my place Sam instisted,so the jumped on Sams harlely and rode off.when they reached his cabin Grace started to almost regert her decision until it happened. Sam wasnt acting like sam anymore,he was almost nice even,Grace didnt want to drop her gaurd because her heart was fragile and she wasnt about to give into Sam.as the two entered his cabin Sam couldnt take his eyes off Grace, what is going on she asked him with a low voice,what do you mean sam replied? you know what i mean Grace said,im sorry i dont,but why dont you enlighten me,your being all sweet ans stuff thats not you at all,Grace reminded him,oh well forgive me ill do better ,Sam replied" as he ripped her dress right off her and slung it to the floor ,he slowly removed his own clothing as Grace watched ,Sam then motioned for Grace to come to him,she walked to him with her head held low as not to look directly at him,Sam took Grace,s face in his hands and stroked her cheeks ,he rubbed her pinkful lips with his fingertips ,Sam then scooped her up and threw her on top on the bed ,which only had a sheet and one pillow,he hoovered over the top of her looking down at her with sparkles in his eyes,he leaned in and kissed her with such force she gasped,trying to catch her breath.Sam continued his quest ,he ran his large fingers over her breast make her tingle in everyway,Grace found she couldnt move,nor did she want to,Sam gathered her long brown hair and sniffed it ,as he once again shooved his tongue into Grace,s mouth he took all of her in that he possibly could at one time.Sam pushed Grace over onto her backside as he licked her bottom,he took his penis in hand and enterd Grace with one stroke Sam was moving his butt up & down side to side with such emotion and force he could fill the tention between them as he also could fill the sexual pull.ooww Grace let out a moan ,that made Sam smile the excitement was building and he felt it coming.Sam begin slapping Grace,s butt as she let out serval gasp and moans,Sam softly stroked her nipples ,as the two ,togather exclimbed and dropped onto the bed out of breath and exhausted.after they had finished Grace moved toward the door im ready to go now she implied,but the night isnt over Sam told her,yes i know but we cant do that again, i cant Grace informed him. but you agreed Sam replied,yes i know i did ,but things change Grace answered'you have no idea what will happen if we let this conitnue .Sam was confused its just sex ,no its not just sex and its not just me and you ,i have to think about haley here. right Sam replied,but no butts i have to go,and i have to go now. Grace started toward the door but Sam reached out and took her hand ,please dont go.

[asphalt-cocktail]

For the Sake of Content- Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Live Music is Boring

Summary: After walking in on your long-term boyfriend, Harrison, cheating on you and then losing your job the following day; your find yourself broke, jobless, and single for the first time in a long while. In order to make ends meet, your best friend since college, Freddie, suggests you start soliciting explicit photos of yourself, not only to help boost your confidence but to help pay the rent for his band mate’s apartment you just moved into.

A/N: Hi lil cuties! Back at it again with a new chapter for FSC. I know I said a new chapter was coming tomorrow, but I wanted to post it tonight because I can. Anyways, it’s starting to pick up from here on out! I’m hoping to build a lot of sexual tension over the next few chapters for what I have planned. Like always I really appreciate all of your lovely comments, likes, and reblogs! Seeing your interest is what helps motivate me to write! Also if you would like to be tagged please send me an ask, the comments get lost and then I feel bad when i cant find everyone :/

Pairing: Roger Taylor x F!Reader

Warnings: Language, mentions of sex work, masturbation, sexual tension, some friendly banter between roger and reader, really corny dirty talk, it makes sense when you read it, not proof read, short chapter but don’t worry it gets better.

Word Count: 1.9k

18+ if you are a minor do NOT interact with this post. This is fictitious content and I own nothing.

Roger sat in the kitchen eating a bowl of cereal, dressed only in a tasseled vest and leather straight legged pants while you shuffled out in your old worn college sweatshirt and a pair of sleep shorts, “Are those my Golden Grahams?” You asked, stopping at the entrance of the kitchen.

Roger glanced up at you, his under eyes were always slightly droopy and puffy, a stark contrast to his surprisingly wide blue eyes that glared up at you, “Yeah, what about it.” He answered confidently.

“Stop eating my shit, I barely have enough money to support myself let alone you.” You said grabbing the box from the counter and shoving it into the cupboard that held your food.

Roger shrugged, loudly slurping up his spoonful of milk, “Maybe you should get a job then.” He leaned back in his chair “How do you even afford rent anyways?”

You froze, your back still facing Roger. For the last few weeks you had made a decent sum of money camming and selling photos, not that you would tell Roger of all people. “It’s none of your business.” You reminded him while you walked over and pulled out your leftovers from your dinner with Freddie and popped them into the microwave.

“How did you even meet Fred,” He asked suspicious that his friend, Freddie, would dare to have other friends.

You turned towards Roger and leaned against the counter, “College,” you answered pointedly, “We had a digital design class together and he liked the shirt I was wearing.” You answered, you might still have that shirt buried in your closet somewhere, “Where did you meet him?”

Roger continued eating your cereal, “We used to live together, went to different universities, but he needed a roommate.” You had been to Freddie’s home during college, but never met Roger. It was a nice place, but always a cluttered mess, “Now we run the shop and play together.” That’s right, Roger helped sell clothes at the second-hand store.

“What do you play? The guitar?” You scoffed momentarily, “God, I hope you can play something other than Wonderwall.” You joked.

A small smile graced Roger’s features, if you hadn’t had been looking you wouldn’t have seen it, “No, I’m a drummer.” He gave you a confident smirk, the kind that would have caused a girl’s knees to go weak, “But I do play guitar,” He quickly followed with.

You nodded your head, “Ah, a drummer,” You said pulling your food out from the microwave and stabbed your fork into the left-over chicken breast.

“You’ve never been to any of our shows, have you?” Roger pressed.

You shrugged your shoulders, “Nope,” you answered, popping the ‘p’ at the end of your short statement.

“Why not?”

“I don’t know, I don’t really like bar concerts I guess.”

Roger scoffed and made a skeptic face, “Where do you see concerts then? The back room of a coffee shop? Some of the best concerts I’ve been to have been in the back of shoddy bars.” He sounded defensive now.

“I just don’t get the point of concerts, I can listen to music on vinyl or Spotify so why should I go to a concert!” You answered back, just as defensive.

“I’m going to call Fred and tell him that you think our music is too boring to see live.” He said reaching for his phone.

You felt your blood run cold, Christ Fred would have your head on a stick if he heard you said that; which you didn’t. You lurched forward, gripping Roger’s wrist, “No!” You shouted, “Don’t call, Fred.” You struggled against his grip

Roger used his free hand to jab his finger into your side, causing you to squeal with laughter and jerk against him “Let go!” He couldn’t hide his own laughter.

You clutched his hand against your chest with your back to him “Promise you won’t tell Fred?” You said, not aware that your shorts had been pulled taut against you and hugged your skin while the crease between your ass and thigh threatened to pop from underneath them.

Roger swallowed thickly, maintaining eye contact with your upper thighs, “Promise you’ll come to our show tonight?” He asked, his voice sounded husky and sent an involuntary shudder through your body.

“Fine, I promise.” You said frowning and feeling your stomach clench at his tone. You quickly released his hand and turned to face him.

Roger’s pouty lips hung slightly ajar and his face was lightly dusted pink, you assumed it was from the struggle prior. “Promise.” He agreed, “But I’m going to tell Fred you’re going.” You groaned knowing Fred would want to doll you up for the occasion.

Thankfully you still had several hours before their 10pm show, so with plenty of time to kill you found yourself seated in front of your computer starting your live stream for the day.

You were dressed in a blue baby doll lingerie that had black lace trim, it was simple and not too revealing; just what you liked. Your colored lights lit up your room and the backdrop you had hung up disguised it for the sake of safety and the camera was perfectly positioned to only show your chest on down. By now you were regular professional.

The red light of your camera blinked and your computer screen loaded before you finally went live. Your regulars were alerted of your stream and soon people began to trickle in and soon your room was filled with a generous number of people. The tips flowed as you interacted with your regulars,

Tank3939 tipped you 50 tokens!

You smiled a sickeningly sweet smile “Thank you tank, you know these tips get me nice and wet.” You sensually said, rubbing your breasts and pushing them together. Tank was a regular, often generously tipping you, “If we reach 1,000 tokens in the next hour, I’ll let you watch me fuck myself on this fat cock.” You said holding up a decently sized dildo, you tried to ignore how much the fake sensuality in your tone caused you to cringe. The way you had to act in order to score tips was perhaps the most annoying part of the gig.

Bigboy64: shit baby how much I got to tip u to do that to me

Tank3939: beautiful sugar

Mojo_Man tipped you 1,000 tokens!

You stopped, doing a double take on at the little red mark on the screen, “Th… thank you, Mojo. I don’t think I’ve seen you in here before.” You gave the camera a wink, “Always nice to see that men know what women want.” You said leaning back and spreading your legs, quickly swiping your fingers through your wet folds and letting out a breathy moan.

The tip bell continued to ring, and your moans threatened to get louder before you stopped, a sultry laugh left your lips “I got to be careful guys, my roommate is in the room next door… wouldn’t want him to hear me,” You gave a naughty giggle, “Or would I?”

Mojo_Man tipped you 500 tokens!

Bigboy64: u ever fuck ur roommate?

Bigboy64: Id fuck u if u were mine

You couldn’t help but grin at the comment, “No, I couldn’t do it, don’t think he likes me very much.” You answered honestly. “Thank you again Mojo, I guess I better get started now that you’ve got me all warmed up. I’ll be right back.” You said, blocking the screen so you could get set up, suctioning the dildo onto the hardwood floor beneath you. You turned around, exposing your ass to the camera and twisted to take the little post-it-note off the camera, “Remember, that little bell makes my tight little pussy wet.” You said once your screen came back into focus.

You sighed, lowering yourself onto the thick cock and sat for a moment allowing it to generously stretch your walls. God, even this fake dick filled you better than Harrison ever could. You leaned forward, sticking your ass out and arching your back and rotated your hips around the dildo, whimpering as you did so.

You readjusted your legs, spreading wider and leaning further forward. Your cheeks spread and put your pussy on display for all 523 people in your live stream. You moaned, pistoning your hips on the plastic cock. Your wet pussy easily glided up and down while your hands reached forward, gripping onto your bed in front of you for balance. Your hips burned while pornographic moans left your lips and your ass bounced with your thrusts. The tip bell rang, one after another, ensuring that you would be able to not only pay rent, but also buy another box of golden grahams for yourself.

Once you finished you gave your signing of speech, “Thank you so much my lovelies!” You said slightly out of breath, “I had so much fun with you all tonight especially my biggest donor for the might Mojo_Man,” you moaned his username out and for good measure kneaded your breasts in your hand before you continued, “Remember to subscribe to my OnlyFans and Snapchat for more content on days I don’t stream! I’ll see you again next Sin Saturday!”

You leaned back against your bed after you sighed off and looked through your stats for the night, 2500 tokens tipped by this Mojo_man, wow he must have really liked your work. You scoffed a bit, poor sap, you thought before you dressed yourself in normal clothes and left to shower and clean yourself off.

A knock on the door alerted you from your shower, your peaceful alone time, “What!” You shouted over the white noise the running water provided.

Without warning, the door opened,“Fred’s going to be over with an outfit for you!” It was Roger.

You rolled your eyes and slicked your hair back and out of your face “Couldn’t you tell me once I got out?” You frowned.

The door quickly shut, “No!” You could hear Roger’s voice growing more distant as he walked further away from the door and sure enough within minutes of your shower ending Freddie was knocking at your bedroom door and soon letting himself in.

“Fred,” You whined, “I look like a slut in this!” You shouted.

“I know!” He countered, “It’s my favorite look on you, you know that!” He straightened out the fabric of your shirt and skirt he had picked out for you.

You looked in the mirror, feeling stupid, “It’s just a bar, Fred. I don’t know why I can’t just go in some jeans!” you protested looking in the mirror.

You could see Roger’s reflection in the mirror, he once again changed his outfit. This time he was wearing an open floral print button down and tight black pants with flared legs, “I think it’s a nice change from that old jumper.” Roger always had to add his own two cents in.

You rolled your eyes, “Why’d you change again? Was your ‘lounge around’ tassel vest not sufficient enough for the show?”

Roger looked at you through narrow eyes, “’Course not, unlike you I care how people see me.”

“All right you two, that’s enough. We have to go over to John’s for the pregame.”

“Wait-” you protested, “You didn’t tell me I was going to meet everyone.”

Freddie scoffed at you, “Of course you have to, you’re a regular Queen groupie now!”

You groaned as Freddie wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you through the apartment, “Why can’t I be a roadie? I can lift stuff.”

“Not dressed like this!” Fred countered, “Enough, come on now we have to get dinner. It’s the most important meal before we go out!”

You tugged the leather miniskirt Freddie had dressed you in down and frowned, reminding yourself that you were only doing this to get a break from your mundane routine.

[mor-beck-more-problems]

No Good Time || Morgan & Winston

Timing: Current

Parties: @danetobelieve & @mor-beck-more-problems

Summary: Morgan and Winston break the news to Coraline Adams’ family about her untimely death. Winston tries out a hunch.

Contains: discussions of death and grief

There was absolutely nothing weird about going over to visit the stranger whose contact info had been dug up from a phone. Morgan and Winston were trying to reunite a family, step in where structures failed, ignored, and forgot. They were, maybe not heroes, but do-gooders. Not stalkers. And yet, dropping by the food court on campus where Marina Adams had checked in on social media felt distinctly stalker-y. Morgan gave Winston a sidelong glance. She was putting up ‘have you seen me’ flyers with her younger sister’s face smiling for the world in the middle. Marina maneuvered her push pins along the bulletin boards with obsessive care. Each flyer lined up perfectly next to the one before, making an even wallpaper along the board, end to end. There was an older woman with her, someone Coraline called her Aunt Jo in an Instagram post, though there wasn’t any sign of relation they’d managed to dig up. Fae were clever though, and in a world where something like this could happen to a girl barely past eighteen, it made sense to cover tracks. Aunt Jo held the stack of flyers, still gleaming fresh from the print store, and scoped around the eating area with steely eyes, as if the killer might be hiding in plain sight like Waldo. “This is...gonna be interesting,” Morgan muttered under her breath. “You wouldn’t happen to magically recognize either of them from campus, would you?”

Raising an eyebrow gently, Winston looked over at Morgan and swallowed before shaking their head. “No, I’m afraid that we never had any classes or anything together and I don’t recognise them,” that would have been a real stroke of luck. At least this would feel less weird. Gaining access to the phone hadn’t been hard. The skeleton key spell had worked almost perfectly, it had required a few modifications true, but once Winston had gotten the wording down it hadn’t been that hard. It was nice designing your own spells, the semantic component actually being in English was great. Not to mention using memes to create your own magic spells was pretty great. “I can throw around the forensics stuff if you really want, technically this isn’t police business but I don’t know if it would really help at all….” Swallowing again, Winston steeled themselves. This was absolutely the right thing to do, even if it was difficult.

“No,” Morgan said softly. “Not that. Or not the police part. If they’re fae-fae, they’re not going to like the idea of humans touching her body or keeping hold of it. But the magic part, and maybe about holding onto her phone a little longer so we can see if whoever killed her was messaging her, if they left some kind of digital trail...that will be good. Magic stuff will be good. Maybe.” Or not, if the alchemy thing went down poorly. “We should just...be honest. Mostly honest. The kind of honest where we’ll stick to the point and only mention the terrible and/or awkward details if they ask.” That said, she ripped off one of the fliers pinned nearby and came up to the pair, holding it out. “Hey, you’re, um, you’re Coraline’s sister, right?” The two women went stiff with alarm, but Morgan pressed on. “I saw your thing. And...well, my friend and I have some answers for you.”

“Where is she?” Marina asked.

Morgan nodded, the truth stuck in her throat. “Maybe we can take this outside the student common. I don’t um...I don’t think this is the sort of discussion to have near so quite so many humans.”

She could see both women looking them over, puzzling over the tremendous lack of fae within them. Whatever trace of herself Deirdre left on her body, it wasn’t enough to broadcast ‘fae ally’. And there was no ubiquitous signal to indicate where she stood. Morgan could see the ‘but aren’t you human’ written on their faces. “I’m sure we can find an empty classroom--”

“I don’t think we’ll be following strangers into any isolated rooms, thank you,” Jo said.

“Or outside, if you prefer. We should, um, we should go do that?” She looked over at Winston, anxious behind her stiff smile.

If they were fae, then promise binding would work and would be enough to prove that neither Morgan nor Winston had any harmful intent for either of the ladies. “Just be honest, fuck okay I can just be honest,” Winston replied with a deep breath. This was never ever their favourite part of anything fae-related but sometimes you had to do things you didn’t love to help people who really needed it. As Morgan and Marina spoke, Winston swallowed nervously, steeling themselves for what they were certain they would need to do. “Listen, ultimately where we meet is not a big deal for us, I promise you that all we’re trying to do in this moment is help you and we simply thought that you’d prefer some privacy to have what is a difficult conversation, we’re happy to work to your preferences, but ultimately the choice is yours.”

The fae didn’t look convinced, but now was not the time for hesitation. Confidence (even when you weren’t feeling confident) and action were what were important.

Winston strode away, hoping that they were following. “Let’s hope that this works, because I hate promise binding myself for literally no reason.” Winston whispered to Morgan, it didn’t really matter if they heard, but privacy was always nice.

Morgan watched the shift in Marina and Jo’s expression. She couldn’t sense whether either of them had taken Winston’s words or not for certain, but the look they exchanged with one another seemed to indicate that someone had. “Very well,” Jo said after a moment. “We will find out if you’re lying, though.”

“It’s a promise given willingly,” Morgan assured.

Jo remained unimpressed, but lead them out of the student common and onto the quad. She lead them to the middle of a grassy area, far enough away from everyone that Morgan searched the ground for traces of mushrooms just in case this was going to be some obnoxious fae trial. So far, so good though. Morgan held her hands in front of her, looking first at Marina, and then at Jo. “So, the thing is...I found Coraline a few days ago. Well, I found um…” Stars why was this so hard? “I was able to identify her through her Student ID…”

“What do you mean, ‘identify her’?” Jo snapped.

“I mean she’s dead!” The words were out before Morgan could think of anything better or gentler to say. She balled her hands into fists, fighting for control of herself and dropped her gaze from the two women.

This was going very well, Winston wasn’t sure that they would’ve used the tact that Morgan had thought appropriate. But then again hindsight was twenty twenty and maybe Morgan wouldn’t have done that either. Eitherway, they were here now and this was going to be hard. A thick lump had grown in Winston’s throat and they couldn’t help but try and swallow it away, not with great success, but still.

“Listen, unfortunately we found her body and …” Winston swallowed again they hadn’t any idea how the officers in the station did stuff like this on a daily basis, “... there was significant damage to Coraline which made it hard to identify her, which is why we had to use her student ID.”

A second later and Winston was taking a further deep breath. “We wanted to let you guys know and we’ve got some questions that we were hoping you might be able to help us with, I don’t know if you can but yeah, we wanted to check and see if you did have answers so that we could rule things out.”

Marina Adams had been raised to fear humans and what they would do if they ever discovered what she and her sister were. They were animals, but worse for their capacity to be cruel with intent. They had no right to touch her sister, to hurt her. She stared into the faces opposite her, face slack with disbelief as she cried. “I don’t understand…” she whispered.

Jo, on the other hand, had seen enough of the world in her forty-odd years to know what to expect from strangers with guilty faces and bad news. “Damage? What kind of damage? You don’t know the first thing about what ‘damage’ means to a girl like Coraline. I think we’re the ones with questions here, such as who are you to be meddling with her body and what help you think you can possibly offer us.” She fidgeted with the sleeves on her cardigan and put an arm around Marina.

“We know enough to promise-bind our intentions willingly,” Morgan replied. “And we have resources you probably aren’t used to seeing from people who aren’t fae.”

Winston was glad that they weren’t having to do this on their own because honestly this was really hard shit. Maybe that was why police officers always or usually worked with a partner. It definitely helped having someone else to bounce everything off of. “We came here to help you and we’re doing everything that we can to help you, honestly, we’ve kind of put ourselves in a precarious position by promise binding ourselves at all,” Winston thought that would have earned them more trust but obviously not.

“We’ve been looking into the death, because unfortunately that is what we have to call it,” Winston bit their lip hesitantly, “there are lots of things that don’t add up.” But Winston had their own theory that they had already shared with Morgan.

“We were able to gain access to her phone,” Winston remembered the spell they had performed, it hadn’t been that hard to work out the way that things had gone from her phone records, not to mention the GPS trail that it left, “it was very illuminating.”

Marina continued to cry. Nothing these humans said would make a difference. She had told Coraline a thousand times that college was a waste, that she didn’t need to blend in this far, that the kids at the lake back home would drown just as well as the swim team and the partiers. But Coraline was the baby and the baby got her way. And now this. But Jo kept her head. Jo lived in the human world more than anyone else the Adams family let into their tight little circle. And she could be brave enough for all of them. “Phone? What phone? How can we trust whatever it is you find. If you know so much about our world, you should know you can make an illusion charm for almost anything these days.”

“Not for the kind of trail my friend is tracking,” Morgan said, her voice tired, but patient. “And not with the methods they employed. I can assure as someone who knows their Agrippa from their Atkinson that this is no false signal.” She nodded at Winston encouragingly. None of this felt like a good idea anymore, but sitting back and letting them look and wonder had seemed so much worse.

“Tell me what you found and give me the phone,” Jo said.

Things seemed to be breaking bad quickly. Winston couldn’t help but feel their heart surge with pity for Marina as she sobbed. “I promise you that this phone is not an illusion, I’m in the know enough about your world to know that this isn’t a glamour or some piece of magical trickery, however I don’t have the phone with me currently.” Even if they did there was no way that Winston was going to give it over to the person that they were pretty sure was responsible in some part for Coraline’s death. They’d said as much to Morgan already, it didn’t make sense for it to be anyone else. Aunt Jo appeared to be the most obvious culprit. “We found a number of messages, facetime calls and a GPS signal, they all paint a picture of Coraline’s movements.” Maybe they’d trip up. The criminals often did. Winston wished that the Sarge was here to see this. Winston hoped he’d be proud.

“Tell me what you found!” Jo snapped. Her rage was loud enough to echo over the lawn and sent Marina whimpering. The woman was angry; of course she was. The floor was being ripped out from under her. Her family, related or not, was in pieces.

Morgan wasn’t sure how much she agreed with Winston about the probability of her hurting Coraline. There was nothing that looked wrong in the pictures they’d examined and even if there was a spike in correspondence before Coraline died, there was nothing to show that she hadn’t simply been attacked after. They didn’t even have proof Jo was a witch, much less an alchemist. She looked uneasily between everyone gathered and put out a gentle hand toward the woman. “We have some solid ideas and we’re following up on them.” she said. We’re following up on you, for one, she added silently. “We were able to identify how Coraline was killed. We know there’s only so many people with the kinds of capabilities her killer exhibited, and we’re confident we can track them down. I know this is a terrible moment, but  finding out who did this is very important to us.”

Jo withdrew from Morgan, pulling Marina with her. “Oh, well as long as it’s very important, why should we worry? I think this family has had enough ‘help’ from humans at this point. We will handle the casters--the wardens, whoever else did this ourselves, thank you.” She tucked Marina close against her side and marched them away.

Morgan deflated as they retreated. “Shit…” she sighed.

There was something in Winston’s stomach. A feeling.  A conviction. A certainty that this was the aunt. Her reaction to their unwillingness to completely take their point of view into account all but convinced them but WInston was hesitant to allow this Jo to just leave, especially with Marina in tow. “If you change your mind please don’t hesitate to contact us,” they managed to say before the other pair were gone, “fuck, I’m sorry I can go after them and try and convince them to talk to us more…?” Winston already knew that it was pretty much useless. She had made it very clear that she wasn’t looking to have a discussion about this, not now and not anytime soon. As they gained distance on them, Winston chewed their lip. “That was a big reaction for an innocent person, I guess she could just be distressed but I don’t know … there’s something off.”

“She’s probably having the worst day of her life, Winston,” Morgan said, grimacing as she watched them walk away. “And grief doesn’t always look like collapsing in tears. Who knows what the rest of this family’s life is like. If they’ve bonded with the water here or if this was supposed to be a fresh start or--anything.” She held herself tight, wondering how the universe expected any of this to turn out balanced or fair. Two lives had been taken, that she knew of, and at least two more were wrecked because of it. “If you’re right and Jo isn’t fae, she probably just feels guilty for her species. I...I just don’t see how she can be that close to those girls and not feel for how fucked their situation is. You can try as hard as you want, but it’s impossible to keep yourself or anyone else safe all the time.” Morgan gave Winston’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Thank you, for doing this with me. You were pretty darn brave there.” Glad as she felt to have the technomancer in her corner, though, Morgan didn’t feel any closer to piecing together the murders. Until she could work up the nerve to confront the body again, it was back to the drawing board.

[punkpoemprose]

December 16th- Bias and Bikinis

Universe: 1950′s AU/ Country Club AU

Rating: T (Teen & Up, Anna flirting in a bikini, swearing like once)

Length: 2015 Words

A/N: Oh you know I had to write Anna into one of these slamming 50′s bikinis. I apologize for nothing, except not showing you more! So here’s Rich Girl! Anna flirting with Pool Boy! Kristoff! Inspired in part by a post (that I can’t find) where @awesomemaple and I talked about Anna showing up around Kristoff in something both sweet and appropriate and simultaneously excessively suggestive, just to see him sweat. I will absolutely write that specific fic sometime very soon (once I find the post, I’m so sorry) but until then, here’s a taste of what that’s going to look like.

Anna was not flirting with the pool boy, that would be against club policy and she was a respectable young lady. No, she wasn’t flirting with the pool boy. She was torturing him.

She had, however, been flirting with him the first week the pool opened for the summer. She’d bought herself drink after drink after drink because he was cute, and it meant that she could shown him her ID. She thought that maybe a wink and the proof that she was 18, old enough to drink, old enough to do… other things… might be enough for him to catch her drift, but for a while it didn’t really seem to get her anywhere with him. Either he didn’t notice, or he wasn’t sure of what to make of her, and she wanted to, at least, interest him enough to get him to talk to her.

She upped her game after that, finding the courage to just come out and ask him if he was doing anything after work. She’d put her best charm into it, smiling and fluttering her eyelashes. He, in return, had rather gruffly told her that he didn’t want to be “a rich girl’s summer romance”.

It had hurt her in the moment. She was certain that he hadn’t meant for it to hurt her thought, He’d given her an apologetic look that almost made up for her discomfort and embarrassment, but the assumptions he’d already made about her with those words cut deep. Was she a rich girl? Yes. Was she looking for a summer romance? Also, yes. But, also no.

He was attractive and she di want to go on a date with him, but she wasn’t looking for some kind of whirlwind kiss and tell summer romance to tell girls about in the dorms, she wanted something serious. Whether that was love or friendship or neither was based on compatibility. She’d ended a romance before because of a “whirlwind” and she certainly wasn’t looking for another.

She was torturing him, and she did feel a little guilty about it, but not enough to stop. She came to the pool everyday she could, lips red, hair pinned perfectly and laid herself out on a deck chair under a shady umbrella. She’d read books in her bikini, ordering cokes and otherwise ignoring Kristoff Bjorgman’s general existence, even when she took her drink from him and slid him a tip like he was just anyone else.

It was a win-win. She had plenty of reading she wanted to get done before starting college in the fall, and she could watch him watching her from behind her dark sunglasses without giving him even the slightest bit of satisfaction. She wore two-pieces she’d seen described in magazines as “sweet” and “flattering” or “curve-enhancing”. She put a great level of effort into selecting the styles and patterns that perfectly walked the line of tasteful and utterly devastating for any man looking at her. She’d had her sister help her in the decision-making process and she couldn’t deny the results.

Sometimes when she knew his eyes were on her, she’d casually reposition herself, arch her back, shift her hips, angle herself so he got a better look at the strip of bare skin between her top and bottoms, just below the curve of her breasts.

She would never admit it out loud, but every time she did so, a little voice in the back of her head would tell him to suffer. And suffer he did. She enjoyed watching him sweat, and tug at his collar, knowing that it was her and not the sun making him uncomfortable. It was almost the end of the summer when he’d finally had enough to pull her aside.

“You’re doing this on purpose,” he muttered under his breath. Anna had to do all she could to hide a pleased smile from her face.

“What’s that?” she asked, feigning innocence and tucking her sunglasses into her bag. She’d just been planning to change and head out for the evening when he’d approached her. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He shook his head and she took great pride in how red he got when he gestured to her and waved his hands a bit. That he found her so attractive that he assumed she needed no other explanation was flattering to say the least. It also spoke to her ability to see a plan through, and she almost giggled about that particular element.

“Oh! My bathing suit?” she asked, “I’m sorry if you find this one makes you uncomfortable. I’ve worn several others this summer. Is there one you prefer I switch it out with? Maybe the blue one with the little bow between my…”

He turned eve redder, and she thought perhaps it was unwise to make advances while half-naked to a man well over twice her size, but if the way he’d spent the whole summer looking at her like a man starved and then immediately averting his eyes was any indication of character, he was a gentleman, not a player. She knew as much to begin with, of course. She’d done her research before she’d started being interested in him in the first place, and she’d heard from several very reliable sources that he was going into his senior year of college and had a sparkling reputation. Knowing that, and seeing the way he was looking at her like he was about to burst, was what drove her to add, “You did seem to like that one.”

His eyes went wide, and she was certain with the way he was swallowing and fidgeting that the cat well and truly had his tongue. Oh how she’d like to be that cat. For all her “payback” she was still interested in him. She suspected that she wouldn’t have tried even half as hard to befuddle him all summer long had she not been interested, but he was cute and respectful when she wasn’t making it hard for him to be so, and underneath it all, she was hoping that he’d start flirting back. She’d spent just as many hours over the summer fantasizing about him walking over and kissing her as he’d spent enjoying the view of her in her blue bikini.

“You were doing it on purpose,” he said, deflating a bit, and frowning which was what upset her far more than admitting that she had been teasing him, encouraging and enticing him.

“Guilty,” she said, and flushed a bit herself, giving him a sheepish smile. She couldn’t take it back now, and she didn’t want to. She was interested in seeing where this would take them, and she could only hope that he would understand that her interest in him had been genuine.

“So what was it all? Just a way to make fun and watch me panic from behind those shades of yours, or…?”

She sighed, feeling less confident about the whole thing and a lot more guilty. It had never really been about making fun of him, so much as it had been meant to be a tease. She’d just wanted to show him what he was missing out on, to give him a little taste of his own medicine, making him want what he can’t have, even though she’d really have him in a minute if he wanted her too.

“No. Well, I mean it was intentional and I was watching you sometimes through my shades, but I never intended to poke fun. Just… I just wanted you to know what it felt like for me to be there with you looking so nice every day. I just wanted…” she trailed off, leaving it there and hoping that she hadn’t just upset him terribly.

“Me?” he asked, sounding a bit incredulous, “In this getup?”

Truly she did imagine he’d look better out of the club’s uniform shirt and trousers, but even in them he was quite handsome. She particularly liked his eyes, soft and earthy and expressive in a way that when he looked at her, she felt warm, and it was, once again, no fault of the sun’s. When he smiled it brightened her mood immensely. He flushed a bit, like her compliment had caught him off-guard, like he wasn’t used to someone thinking he was handsome.

She nodded, “Yes! I didn’t ask you out because I thought you were unattractive. I’ve been told I’m a fool, but I don’t think I’m that bad.”

He seemed taken aback by that, but she didn’t worry so much about it because his expression went soft.

“Aw hell, you mean that… all that… what you said before…” he trailed off and slouched a bit, making himself seem smaller in the space as he realized the situation they’d been in a bit more clearly. Anna found it rather endearing when he gave her a nervous smile.

“I’m sorry! It’s just… I was a goof. Look usually when someone seems interested in me, it’s just an act. I know I’m a big guy, I’m clumsy sometimes, I don’t really know how to talk to… Anyway, I know the way I am, so I just… I’ve been made the fool once or twice so I’m a little defensive. I didn’t realize you meant it when you wanted to meet me after work, so I just went for the best answer I could think of.”

He seemed nervous and more than a bit shy, so instead of pushing even harder than she already was, particularly given she was still in her bathing suit, she reached into her bag for a pen. Even though she’d just spent the entirety of the summer teasing him, his admission of fear stemming from the ways other women had treated him broke her heart. She understood a bit more about why he’d been so quick to deny her without any real knowledge of her intentions.

She reached out and touched his hand gently once she found her pen. His hand, that had been balled up at his side, tentatively relaxed at her touch. She smiled at that and gently pressed his hand open with her fingers. There was an intimacy in the act, one different than the one she’d experienced over the summer when he’d been watching her, and it made her heart race. When his palm was open he gave her a look that was something between nervous and curious.

She flushed under the scrutiny of his gaze as she removed the cap from her felt-tipped pen and jotted down her home phone number, her name, and the hours between which he could call her. She blew on his hand, getting so close that she almost smudged her lipstick against his hand as she dried the ink. It was another strangely intimate action, and she felt his hand shake slightly under her attention.

“Give me a ring?” she asked curiously, releasing his hand to allow it to once more fall at his side. That he didn’t ball it up again was something that she counted as a win.

She saw the corner of his mouth turn up as she tossed the pen back into her bag, preparing to leave finally, for the day.

“I will. Right after I get out, if that’s alright?”

She liked that answer well and truly and gave him a last nod and smile before stepping away to go and change into her dress and head home for the day.  

If the smile she caught sight of as she walked away was any indication, he’d decided better of his opinion on summer romances with rich girls. Whether it be because the fact that she was the right girl in question, or whether it be because the summer was almost over, Anna didn’t know. She did, however, like to think that it was the former.

She touched her fingers lightly to her lips, where they’d almost pressed into his palm, and hurried herself off to home, where she’d wait anxiously by the phone for his call.