#and today is when i realized that i need to forgive myself and my clients and move on

[unforseenkiss]

having this weird emotional breakdown where I'm bawling and laughing at same time and I have no idea why ?? like it just feels so ridiculous to be sitting here fucking sobbing for absolutely no reason out of the blue that I have to laugh about it cause wtf ???

[4joonkookie]

Gravity

(Mirror, Mirror part #2, [or not])

⚘ Paring: Jungkook x Reader

⚘Words: 3.8K

⚘Summary:

Part 2 of the Mirror, Mirror series. All parts can be read as a series or standalone. (Standalone) - You strike a lusty connection with a sexy stranger at a concert venue. OR (Series) - Unsure about the future of your relationship, you recall the first time you meet and fuck JK.

⚘Tags/Warnings:

SMUT, flirting, public foreplay, infatuation, established relationship, non-disclosure agreement, angst, rough sex, putting on a condom is sexy?, waxing nostalgic, noona!kink, destiny, series, career woman, Jungkook takes long showers, oops there's a plot, lots of research on that 'Euphoria' harness, Seokjin cameo, commitment issues, avoidant behavior, unresolved ending, ending up to reader interpretation, just wanted to write a sex scene in the mirror and it's manifested into 4 parts.

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

You stand frozen in the mirror, looking at your reflection until it fortunately steams away from Jungkook’s hot shower.

Quit your stupid job. Please. Stay with me. And you don’t need to have an answer. But we have to talk about it.

You could be predictable and do exactly what Jungkook thinks. You can leave.

Or. You could head to the kitchen, start a pot of coffee and unpack your bags.

Memories flood your mind, keeping you still.

-----

The thousands of seats in the stadium are empty but ample employees work through set-up and dress rehearsal for the concert happening tonight.

You stand on the stage watching the staff secure a performer to the platform harness, tightening a cable around his waist. They shuffle to finish and take steps back to watch the man be lifted, hung and swayed above the stadium seats.

This is the last item on your agenda today before you can head back to the hotel and rest for an early flight tomorrow.

The performer is slowly lowered down to the stage.

Working for these large venues means traveling, living in hotel rooms and keeping you too busy to take advantage of endless complimentary show tickets. Most of them go to waste or are given away . A “friend” (one of the many that come out of the woodwork depending on what show is in their city) casually asked about tickets to this particular concert. You told her the stadium is sold out but you had 2 tickets and weren’t planning on using them.

Your ears still ring with the high-pitched shriek she wailed into the receiver.

When the man lands safely back on the stage, you approach him. “How is it? Does it feel okay?” you say, in your best client - friendly voice as he steps off the device.

“Do I have to wear the wrist harness?” He rubs where the looped fabric has reddened his skin.

“It kind of burns.”

You scrunch your face before replying. “Yes, you have to wear the harness. It’s a liability if you don’t.” you say, matter-of-factly.

“A liability.” It’s not clear if he’s parroting you or asking a question.

“Right,” you nod. You signed a contract.”

“I did?” his hand on his chest, genuinely surprised.

“Well, someone did,” gesturing to the plentiful staff of his company.

“What does it say?”

“It says the stadium isn’t responsible for anything that happens to you if you don’t use the moving platform as recommended, I.E. with the wrist harness.”

He doesn’t reply. “Sorry.”, you add. Just trying to keep you and your 5 friends safe.”

“6,” he corrects you.

“6 What?”

“There’s seven of us. Me and 6 friends.”

You quickly apologize, realizing you may have come off rude and too eager to leave. You have no idea who he is but he’s not the first diva you’ve dealt with. You turn on the charm and start sucking up to the talent, as your job often requires.

“But if the fabric of this one is too rough on you...,” you briefly rub your hand over the reddening skin on his hand. “I think I have one in a different material that’ll be gentler on your skin.”

He laughs shyly and smiles. It wasn’t your intention to flirt but his reaction made it feel like you were. It makes him seem a little young.

“It’s ok.” He laughs again, containing a smile. “It’s not too rough,” eyes glancing at your lips and moving to your eyes. The wind blows his dark hair over his face but you can still see his eyes. His near smolder throws you off, causing you to dart your own eyes down.

“Are you sure?” feeling blood rush to your chest and face as the distance between your bodies begins to close.

“Yes.” He thanks you by name after quickly getting a glimpse at your name badge. “Is that your job? Making sure everyone is safe?” Embarrassed by your initial touch, he seems more confident now.

“Sort of,” you reply shortly.

Really, your job is to prevent the venues from being sued. Charming (and albeit, sometimes flirting) with talent is part of the job, so, you’re not sure why this random has such a pull on you. Or why your palms are sweating and your mind is going foggy.

“Wait here,” you instruct.

He nods and you jog to an equipment room backstage to retrieve another wrist harness. This one is made of silicone instead of fabric. You hurry back to him and worry you’re out of breath when you return.

“Here.” You pull the moving platform to you, stepping on your tiptoes to unhook the fabric loop. He holds out his hand to take the new one from you. You offer it and he easily reaches to hook it on, making you feel small as you return back to your flat feet.

“Hopefully, it’s a bit gentler for you,” you tease, taking some advantage of his bashfulness.

“Thank You.” He smiles. Your bodies are closer now and you can feel his breath.

Swallowing, “Do you want to try it.?” Soap and cologne fill your nostrils.

“Try what?” keeping his lips parted, eyes searching your face.

“The harness.” You pull the still-hanging platform and hold your foot down on the device so he can step easily onto it again. He raises his arm above his head and you loop his hand through the strap. You pull the belted cables and secure them tightly around his waist, feeling rigid muscles under his oversized t-shirt. He winces when you snap the belt closed.

“Speaking of rough,” he scolds, looking down at you, the world closing in quickly on you both.

“Safety first.” One of your feet between his, holding him down to the stage on the small platform. You could’ve had staff do it but eliminating this closeness seems wrong. “Ready?” you say, hands hanging from his belt.

His eyes peek down at your lips again. “Ready.” You step off the platform and give a thumbs up to staff working the cables above the stadium. They pull him for a few laps, flying around, giving you a moment to compose yourself.

When he lands, you replace your foot between his. “Better?” you ask, rising to your tippy-toes to unloop his wrist, letting your fingertips graze on the top of his hand.

“Better,” he replies, smiling ear-to-ear now. You wrap your arms around his waist again to remove the cables.

Behind him, a group of men huddle together at the end of the stage, conspicuously giggling and immediately stopping when your eyes find them.

“Are those your 6 friends?” you question, as you unhook the belt, embarrassed that you acted as if you were alone.

He steps off and rolls his eyes, endeared. “That’s them.”

“Ok.” You rub your face, trying to coax yourself back into reality. “You’ll let me know if you or your friends need anything?”.

He nods respectfully and thanks you by name again.

“You’re welcome.” You offer a wave and turn to slink away. You cringe when he calls you again. You turn to find a sheepish grin on his face.

“Do you know my name?” he asks with a knowing look.

You try to be casual. “No, I don't. You don’t have a name badge like me.” You take another step forward, being pulled in like a magnet again, onlookers be damned. “I’m sorry. I don’t know who you or your friends are. Will you forgive me?” looking up, controlling the urge to pout at him.

He scrunches his nose. “It’s ok. Kind of makes me feel normal.”

Funny, he seems normal to you. Your faces are too close to call this any kind of “schmoozing” or “sucking up” but you can’t drag yourself away.

“Your name?” scanning him from head to toe.

He crooks his mouth and inhales sharply. “I don’t know, I kind of like it this way.” He leans in closer, voice getting lower. “Is there somewhere we can go?” tongue running over his cotton-candy lips. “I promise to introduce myself.” He's painstakingly bold now and not a second too soon because you’re practically putting on a show, center stage. “Or is that a liability too?” he teases.

“I guess that depends on how rough you plan on being,” you taunt back and he exhales a breathy moan. “Follow me.” He takes your hand and you lead him to the office buildings in the stadium, empty on a Saturday.

“Is this part of your job too? Seducing singers?” he asks, as you approach the glass doors. You stop in your tracks before inserting a key into the lock of the building.

“I am NOT seducing you.” Reflecting on the last few minutes, you hardly believe it yourself.

He raises an eyebrow at you. “And no,” you continue. “I’ve never done this before.” You insert a key in the lock and turn your wrist.

“So, why me?” a hand still clasped with yours.

“Still figuring that out,” you reply, opening the door. “I’d hate for you to feel like I'm taking advantage of you, do you want to stop?”

He pulls the door open. “No.” gesturing for you to walk inside. You hardly make it in before he pins you to the wall right away, hooking his index fingers in your belt loops.

You look at him closely. “How old are you?”

“You first,” he says with a sly smile.

“Old enough.” You give him a playful shove.

Looking at him long again, “20.” you guess, sounding confident.

He grips around your waist. “How do you know that?”

You look up at him, thoughtfully. His lips are millimeters from yours. “Just a feeling,” you whisper. His lips finally press against yours, soft pecks at first. You breathe each other in and your mouth opens to him when he lifts a hand to the back of your neck.

He slots his legs between yours, heatedly pushing you harder against the wall. His lips move to your neck and both pairs of greedy hands squeeze and tug at each other's bodies.

Unfazed by still being visible through glass doors, you slip your hands under the belt of his pants to give his ass a squeeze and push his groin more roughly against you.

It gets more desperate, both of you panting and sweating through your clothes, still against the wall. He lifts up your shirt to grope at your breasts when you hear the speakers.

“Jungguuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuk, let’s goooooooo! We need to get ready!”

You peek out of the glass to see two other members shouting for Jungkook into hot microphones. He lets out a heavy sigh and kisses you hard again.

“Jungkook ,” you whisper. Like a prayer falling from your lips, naming the pull of his gravity.

He looks at his watch which prompts you to look at yours. 5 o’clock.

“I have to go. Can I see you later? Are you busy?” still panting and pressed against you.

“Aren’t you?” running fingers through strands of his chocolate hair.

“Later, later. After the concert, 10 or 11. “You’re staying for the concert?”

“Yeah,” you lie.

His name still blares over stadium speakers. He groans and pushes his forehead to yours. It’s a relief that he feels stuck to you too.

You begin to offer, “I have a hotel nearby, you can…”

He laughs. “Sorry, I can’t really do that. Can I have your number? I’ll have my lawyer find you tonight.”

“What?” you ask, confused.

“You know… liability and legal stuff.” A hundred voices tell you to end this right now. And one voice has you unhooking a pen hanging from your name badge and listing digits on his hand.

He plants one more kiss on you and just like that, he’s gone. You let your back slide down the wall until you’re sitting on the floor, taking a moment before you head back to the hotel to change clothes, put on your staff badge to blatantly take advantage of your job and enter a concert you don’t have tickets for.

You re-enter the stadium without suspicion and blend into the standing room. Any sense of nervousness disappears. You lose yourself in the magic of the show and his talent on stage, now done up and dressed in almost a costume. Still beautiful.

At intermission, a stranger in a suit calls you by name and introduces himself as the lawyer. You walk into an empty office as the stadium still buzzes. He talks and talks and talks. Then, he takes out a stack of paperwork, a non-disclosure contract.

You sign in about a hundred places. You know better, you should be taking time to read and sign carefully but your mind is fogged with the idea of getting your hands back on him, whoever he is.

“Ok. You’re all set,” the lawyer says, after a final signature.

“What happens next?” wondering when you reap the benefits of signing your life away.

“He’ll be in touch, I guess.” The lawyer shrugs and you walk him to the arena exit.

The concert ends and you head to an office to wait, unsure if you should leave the stadium.

Finally, a message from an unknown phone number with an address and hotel room appears on your phone screen. A knot forms in the pit of your stomach. You feel compelled to tell someone where you’ll be going only to remember that you signed an NDA that forbids just that.

You try to reply to the number and an error message immediately returns. “Sender not available”.

What the fuck. You stop and take a deep breath. This could be dangerous and now it’s going beyond “sexy” danger. You try unsuccessfully to convince yourself to stop thinking with your genitals and about the sexy stranger you needed to finish that kiss with.

It doesn’t feel real. You open an internet tab and search his name.

What a mistake. All the blood in your body floods to your core, knowing this man was potentially waiting in a bed for you makes your mind even hazier. Before you can catch up to your thoughts, you rush to your car to drive the short distance to the hotel.

Silent security guards escort you through the lobby and up the elevator. When the doors reopen, Jungkook has his back propped against a wall, expecting you. His hands are in the pockets of sweatpants. He doesn’t look like he did on stage anymore. Not like the pictures. His freshly showered and bare-faced appearance disarms your anxious mind.

“I’ve narrowed down who you are,” you start. “You’re either a big deal or an axe murderer.”

He laughs. “What if I told you neither is true?” He pulls you close by your waist and places a quick kiss on your lips. It’s too casual, like some muscle memory you never knew you had.

“The paperwork? The spoofed phone number?” you gently scold, as he leads you to a door in the hallway.

“You still came,” he says, opening the room door.

“Yeah, what does that say about me?” walking in ahead of him and taking a moment in self-deprecation.

“That you want to finish that kiss as much as I do,” door closing behind him.

You smile to yourself as you face away, heart fluttering at the notion that his idea mirrored yours. You turn to approach him.

“It was a little more than a kiss,” you flirt, placing your arms around his neck.

“Yeah…” his hands wrap around your waist again and his lips hungrily find yours. He bites gently on your bottom lip, eliciting a whimper from you.

“Sorry if that’s a little rough,” he teases, taking his mouth to yours again letting his hands roam. He adds: “I promise i’m not ‘axe-murderer’ rough,” he chides, and you both giggle between kisses. You sink into the familiar and comfortable space, regardless of being actual strangers . You lift off his shirt, eager for what you felt earlier, running hands gratuitously over his chiseled chest and abs.

“Do you want a drink or…” he’s graciously offering between kisses.

“No,” breaking your lips just long enough to reply, knowing he’s got exactly what you need right now.

Clothes are tossed in the air and landing on the floor before he lays you on the bed and the heated pace slows. He mounts on top of you and places slow kisses down your neck and chest while lowering the straps of your bra and kneading your breasts beneath the fabric. He takes nipples into his mouth, warm tongue circling, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. Your encouraging hands, tangled in his hair.

He moves to your mouth again, offering his tongue, slow but deep. He pulls your panties around your ankles and allows the palm of his hand to slide against your thigh before he can reach his thumb to stroke between your folds, causing you to shudder. He sucks at the tip of his thumb and moves his hips to push his still clothed cock against your center. You wrap your legs around him, urging him closer, needy for his friction.

“Be back,” he says, leaving a peck on your cheek. He walks to a bag on a nearby table, rustles through and retrieves a condom. You sit up on the edge of the bed as he struts back to you. He presents the foil square between 2 fingers. You peel it open, looking up at him. The back of one of his hands strokes your cheek while his other lowers the waistband of his boxer briefs, revealing himself. You instinctively grip his shaft to plam slow strokes along his length and take pleasure in watching his eyes roll back.

You release your hand to pull the condom from it’s open wrapper, place it on the tip and use 2 hands to roll it down to the base before discarding the wrapper on the nightstand and pulling his underwear to the floor.

Leaning down to kiss you, he asks, “What do you want?”

You search for the words but opt to stand and silently guide him to sit back on the bed. He’s satisfied to follow your action as you straddle his lap and use your hand to brace his hard cock on your swollen center, rubbing up and down, slicking the rubber further. You guide yourself onto him, digging your nails into his shoulders slightly when you feel how he spreads you open, stretching and adjusting.

He groans when you reach the base, pushing down on your hips and shifting beneath you, getting deeper and widening your stretch. You whimper and squirm as you adjust.

“Too rough?” he teases.

“Not at all, '' you say, lifting your hips again and meeting the base faster. He pushes you down again, lifting his lap up.

“Good,” he breathes out, shakily.

You create a rhythm with your legs lewdly spread and circle your lower body, his shaft grinding against your sensitive walls, encouraged by his quickening breath.

His eyes are glued to your hips, watching them move. He slams you down a little harder, testing you. You both grunt when he meets the hilt.

You encourage his hand on your center, placing his hand on yours and setting the speed for him. He takes the cue and continues on his own, watching your face. You drop your head to his neck. He lifts you by your chin. “Let me see you.” The sensation is too much, and you're embarrassingly close. He quickens his pace below you, your own hips hardly moving anymore. You look down, entranced by his fingers. He uses his free hand to tug back on your hair.

“I said let me see,” you pulse around him at the words, a delighted smile on his face as he watches.

Still inside, he flips you on your back and buries himself balls deep inside you with an audible slap, bed rocking at the motion.

“Too much?” he sounds sincere.

“More,” you reply, challenging him anyway. He thrusts hard into you again with a sinister grin and keeps his pace, watching diligently as you take all of him. You whine at his deep strokes and he pins your wrists above your head, rendering you helpless as the pressure coils again at your center.

His grunts get lighter, whinier as he grips your wrists tighter.

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you curse, and grope at his tensing ass cheeks when he comes. His thrusts become slow and shallow before sliding out of you. He takes a moment to lay his head on your chest before pulling and tying the condom off, tossing it.

He collapses beside you so you’re shoulder to shoulder and you fall into conversation, for too long and too late but you both delight in it, taking in more of each other.

“When can I see you again?” he asks as you prepare to leave, sunrise peeking through the curtains.

You’re a little surprised. The circumstances had you assuming this as a one-night thing.

“What do you mean?” you ask, unsure.

He gives you a suspicious side-eye. “Can I see you again?”

You attempt to shake down the guard you have up and smile at him.

“When?” you question, as his gravity pulls you back to the bed where he lies.

You lie side by side and compare schedules. It would be the first of hundreds of times you do this, comparing calendars and forcing your lives together.

You’re not sure when you stop forcing it but it’s happened. Now, 3 years later, you’re frozen at a fork in the road, torn to make a decision, knowing you can’t continue to drag him through your hesitation. You pick up your bag and head to the front door.

This first memory and a million others flood your thoughts.

When you saw him for the second time, weeks later, your hands wouldn’t stop shaking. You remember his flattered, cheeky smile.

The time you both got food poisoning and shared the bathroom floor for 3 days.

Surprising him backstage one night and sucking him off before a performance. His face was priceless.

The time he was so exhausted from touring he just slept for the 15 hours you were together. And you contentedly watched until you had to part again.

Taking a spontaneous flight just to get tattoos.

When you told him you loved him on the plane. “I love you.” The words slip out effortlessly, you don’t even remember what you were talking about. He’s pleasantly surprised and almost proud that you say it first. He reciprocates your words and seals it with a kiss on your forehead. “I love you too.”

Playing domestic during quarantine and settling into a chosen family when the world comes to a screeching halt.

The look on his face when he fucked you in the mirror last night.

His disappointed face before he got in the shower today.

You don’t notice Seokjin until he speaks, passing by you on his way to the kitchen.

“Leaving, noona?”

You don’t respond, still facing the closed door.

“Do you need help with your bag?” he’s walking up to you now.

“Noona,” he places a hand on your shoulder. “Are you going?”

Part 3/4 HERE

[hrtiu]

Bobannec fluff? Maybe patching up wounds post battle? :>

Thank you for the ask! And sorry to the other asks in my inbox that I haven’t gotten to yet 😅. Anyway here’s a quick bit of fluff, I hope you like it! Also @luoiae this could be a response to your prompt about food the other day :)

“You shot me,” Fennec said, shoving past Boba to get to the mess. 

Boba shut and sealed the entry hatch and trailed in after her. “I wasn’t aiming for you.”

“Is the fact that you’re a shit shot supposed to make me feel better?”

Boba narrowed his eyes at her. “His armor deflected the shot. I won’t apologize for being unable to calculate ricochet vectors off the top of my head.”

Fennec let out a noise of disgust, then pulled off her jacket, her face contorting with pain. Her nose crinkled as she twisted to get a look at the charred blaster shot just below her bicep. Boba’s harsh brow softened.

“Fen,” he said, stepping to her and placing a hand gently on her arm. “Let me-”

“I’m fine,” Fennec snapped. “The job got done. I can take care of myself. Let’s just get out of here.”

Boba drew his mouth to a line, but let her go. She retreated to the bunk they shared above the cockpit and Boba set their course. He considered joining her for the hyperspace travel, but decided against it when he found her curled up in their bunk like a wounded tooka, on the defensive and body primed for counterattack. Her pride wounded as much as her arm.

He slept on a pull-out in the mess.

Slave I’s insistent beeping bulled Boba from his dream and he dragged himself from bed to start the landing sequence. They were on Canto Bight, here to meet with their client and collect the rest of their payment. Boba leaned back in his seat and looked out the cockpit at the glittering city. They still had a full day cycle before they were scheduled to meet with the client, but he’d probably just spend it aboard the ship. Canto Bight wasn’t really his scene.

The ladder to their bunk thunked with heavy, awkward steps and Fennec stalked her way into the cockpit. 

“Are you feeling better?” Boba asked.

She said nothing, though the hand clutched tightly around her arm was answer enough. She reached the copilot’s seat and for a moment Boba hoped he might join her, but she just rummaged around in the chair's side console until she located her favorite canteen. She tucked the canteen under her good arm, then headed back towards the ladder up to the bunk.

“I’ll be in my bunk,” she called over her shoulder.

“Our bunk,” Boba muttered under his breath.

“It’ll be our bunk once I’ve regained full use of my arm.”

Boba sank further into the pilot’s seat. He hadn’t meant for her to hear that, but Fennec always seemed to hear everything. It was like she had ears in the back of her head in addition to the extra eyes.

The automated part of the landing sequence ended, and Boba guided the Slave I to an upscale, high-security docking bay on the outskirts of the city. Boba didn’t think he needed that sort of thing, but everything on Canto Bight was upscale. There were no budget options.

Boba let his head fall back on the headrest and looked up at the durasteel ceiling that separated him from Fennec. He could offer to patch her arm again, now that she’d cooled off, but he doubted her response would be any different. He could bring her some pain meds, but if she wanted some she’d already gotten them for herself. Fennec was… self-sufficient. Independent. It was one of the things he lov- liked about her. But sometimes it could be a real pain in the ass.

Boba crossed his arms and puffed out his cheeks, considering for a moment a venture out into the city to kill time if nothing else. Canto Bight was a den of mynocks, parasites eager to make a credit but too delicate to get their own hands dirty. But it did have some good food.

Boba blinked. That was it. That was the solution to his problem.

He hopped to his feet and opened the entry hatch, locking the ship tight behind him. He had no doubt Fennec could hold her own against any intruders, but he didn’t want her to have to do so injured. The neon glow of the casino town swallowed him whole, the insistent beat of music pumped throughout the city dulling his senses. He fought against the haze and forged onwards, to a boutique bakery near the racetracks he’d heard of but never visited himself. 

A quaint bell jangled as he stepped through the door, and a kindly Twi’lek woman looked up from the counter.

“Welcome!” she said, then her warmth diminished as she took in Boba’s scars and worn clothing.

“You specialize in Chandrilan sweets?” Boba asked.

The woman’s features brightened again. “Why, yes we do! What are you looking for today?”

“Got any bliss fruit tarts?”

A half hour later Boba slipped back onto the Slave I, a bright pink box wrapped in white ribbon clutched in his hands. He approached the ladder to their bunk cautiously, then climbed up just far enough to set the pink box on the lip of the bunk space. He slid it forward enough to ensure it wouldn’t get knocked down, then retreated silently to the mess.

It took her some time, but he’d expected that. He went through their transmissions while he waited, measuring prospective clients and ordering them by priority and preference. Then her soft footsteps sounded against the durasteel floor. He smiled.

Fennec slid her hands around his shoulders and leaned in close, the sugar sweet on her breath.

“I forgive you.”

A tension Boba hadn’t even realized was there seeped from his bones, and he relaxed into her touch. “Enough to give me one?”

She pivoted around and sat herself in his lap, one arm slung around his shoulder while her other hand held the purple pastry to her lips. She bit into it, her eyes closing in appreciation as she chewed and languidly swallowed. Then she kissed him, soft and tempting. A bit of flaky pastry stuck to his lip, and the decadent scent of the bliss fruit filled his nostrils.

Fennec pulled away and looked him straight in the eye, a wicked smirk to her lips. “That’s as close as you’re going to get.”

Boba found he was ok with that.

[recurring-polynya]

i’m gonna try out my luck for the renji bday thing😭

- renji being a mediator between rukia and ichika(idk why i feel like rukia and ichika would get into rly dumb arguments and just fight like they’re the same age)

- renji and ichika get a tattoo

- jealous rukia(of course)

- anything that takes place in inuzuri, i loved your ‘dumb teens stealing kisses’ snippet so much 😭

- more of the tattoo artist renji falls for a client AU

I hope you’ll forgive me for cheating a bit, but when I saw this, I said, “what if I just gave you more of the dumb teens stealing kisses” fic? because honestly, it’s just sitting here.

For people who don’t obsessively follow my incoherent ramblings about my own WIPs, this is an excerpt for i can’t believe i found you in that town, a story that takes place during Renji and Rukia’s last year in Inuzuri. Two out of their three friends have passed away, their powers are growing steadily stronger, and they are starting to face the fact that they aren’t children anymore. I have two more parts of Heart is a Muscle to get through first, so I never work on it, but it is very close to my heart.

PS: This is not going on ao3 at this time, because I really do intend to finish it eventually, so consider this a Tumblr exclusive.

❄    ❄     ❄

In a strange confluence, all three of them have found gainful employment at the same time.

Renji is guarding crates. He does not ask what is in the crates. He does not want to know what is in the crates. He stands next to the crates and his size deters most people. Occasionally, he is called upon to punch someone in the face. It’s good work.

Fujimaru got him this gig, actually. Mameji was good with numbers and he taught Fujimaru a lot, and now Fujimaru has a gig keeping the books for the guys who own the crates. That seems like pretty good work to Renji, too. Fujimaru says he wishes it involved more punching people. Renji wishes his job involved punching fewer people. Everyone’s got complaints.

Rukia has found work in a shop. This is charming and hilarious to both boys. It’s a pawn shop that paradoxically seems to buy about three times as much junk as it sells. It’s obvious that the only reason the owner hired Rukia is because the clientele likes to come in and look at her, but the fact is, she’s an amazing bargainer, and she’s making him a ton of change.

Renji stops in one late afternoon when his own shift is over, and watches her sell a man a knife that looks like it will break if he looks at it funny. She offers to throw in a shitty ball of twine and the man agrees to pay what is easily four times what the knife is worth, and leaves smiling. Amazing.

The shop owner eyes Renji warily. Renji never starts trouble, and he’s even stopped it once or twice, but at the same time, his presence is cramping the appeal of the pretty shopgirl.

“I’m off,” Rukia tells her boss.

“See y’tomorrow,” the seedy man grumbles.

“You don’t get paid every day?” Renji asks Rukia loudly. “I get paid at the end of every shift.”

“She gets paid at the end of the week,” the shopkeeper grouses.

Renji flexes one arm experimentally, admiring his own bicep. “It’s nice getting paid every day. Makes you want to come back the next day, y’know.”

“She comes back every day so she can get paid at the end of the week.”

Rukia’s eyes dart between them.

“Ah, you must be a great boss, very trustworthy,” Renji comments, stretching his back. “Although gettin’ paid every day is a nice way to show trust, too. Hey, Ru, you wanna stop at Takahashi’s on the way home? I heard they got in some dried mackerel and I,” he winks at Rukia’s boss, “got paid today.”

“Pfft,” Rukia huffs, wrapping her shawl around her shoulders. “I’m sure it’s a scam. We need rice, though, and more water.”

“Hey, girl,” Rukia’s boss spits out. “You had a good shift! Here’s your pay for today, as a reward for doing so well. Come back tomorrow, okay?”

“Of course,” Rukia agrees, taking the coins with a sly smile.

As they head out of town, she jabs him in the ribs with her elbows. “You’re so obvious.”

“Got you paid, didn’t I?”

“You did, thank you. He hates you, you know.”

Renji sighs dramatically. “How can I live with myself?”

Rukia snorts. “He’s gross, I hate him. I hate that whole job. Smiling at people. Acting kind to horrible people. It’s so fake. I don’t know why you like working so much, I’d rather just steal.”

“I’ve seen you working, what you do is not much different from stealing.” Renji rubs his hands together. It’s getting cold, especially with the sun setting. “I appreciate the effort, though. I mean, we do. Me and Fujimaru. I like this. Having money, that is. It’s nice.”

Rukia regards him out of the corner of her eye.

“Do you? Do you appreciate it?”

Renji frowns. “Yeah, of course I do. I know you don’t like it.”

Rukia stops walking and turns to him. “C’mere.” She gestures toward herself and makes the pointing motion she does when she wants him to bend down to her level. Even though this results in a cuff to the back of his head more often than not, Renji obeys. “If you really appreciate it, I think you should do something nice for me.”

Renji should know by now to be wary of such an ominous statement, but he falls for it anyway. “Sure. Name it.”

“I want to kiss you again.”

Renji tugs at his ponytail. “Again? Really?”

It was probably six years between the first and second time she had wanted to kiss him, but the second time had only been a few months ago, last spring, after he broke his arm saving her from a large, angry man she had attempted to pickpocket.

“You said you were open to the idea,” Rukia scowled.

“I...did,” Renji stammered. To be fair, he had been in immense pain at the time and probably would have agreed to just about anything. He could have used that as an excuse. It seemed like Rukia was thinking the same, he could tell she was already getting herself wound up to be hurt at his rejection. That stung a little, the idea that she expected so little of him. “No problem. Anything for you. Go for it.” He bent his knees a little deeper and squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for impact.

“You gotta relax a little, man, it’s not a punch in the nards,” Rukia scolded, grabbing ahold of his ears and laying one on him.

Renji didn’t fantasize about kissing girls. He liked girls well enough, but he liked guys more. There was one exception to that rule, and that was Rukia. He liked her more than anyone. It wasn’t right to fantasize about Rukia, though, in his opinion, because he lived with her and it wasn’t respectful and also… also, if he spent too much time thinking about things like kissing her, he might want to do it. So, he avoided the slippery slope of girls in general, and restricted his spicy kissing fantasies to the lean, knife-eyed Rukongai punks that hung out on street corners and had really sexy ways of saying “heeeeeey.” Renji was perpetually working on his “heeeeeeys.”

But Rukia was kissing him now, and it seemed equally disrespectful to pretend she wasn’t. Her lips were soft against his, and curious. Her fingers relaxed their painful grip on his ears and snuck around to rest on the back of his neck. She must have been keeping her hands in her sleeves, because they were warm, and they felt so good and this was good, this was so, so good and it occurred to Renji that maybe he was meant to kiss her back, she had never mentioned anything about--

“There, that wasn’t so bad, was it, Abarai?” Rukia was saying.

It was over.

Renji blew air out his cheeks. “Naw, it was fine. Ah, did you, uh… was it everything you hoped and dreamed?”

“It was okay,” she shrugged, but her eyes twinkled. She started walking again and Renji had to do a little skip and a jump to catch up. “Fujimaru’s probably home already. How come he didn’t come with you to pick me up?”

“Oh, there were extra crates today, so he’s working late. But we can have the rice ready and surprise him!”

“Mm, yes, that sounds nice,” Rukia agreed. She hummed a little as she walked. “Hey, Renji?”

“Yeah?”

“Back at the shop-- did you call me Ru? What was that?”

Renji made a face. “I dunno. I thought it was cute.” You’re cute, his brain added, and suddenly, he couldn’t unsee it. She was unbearably cute, wrapped up in her shawl, that little piece of hair hanging between her eyes, those beautiful eyes. “If you don’t like it, I’ll--”

“You’ve known me for nine years and you decide, just now, to give me a nickname?”

He shrugged. “Things can change, right? Even out here in the ass end of Rukongai?”

She regarded him for a moment. “It is cute. I will allow it, but only from you, and don’t do it around gross people like my greasy boss.”

“Yeah, no prob,” he agreed, squeezing his hands under his armpits. He had a bad feeling that they were in for a brutal winter this year.

“Hey!” Rukia said, and he realized she was holding out his hand to him. Gingerly, he took it, hoping she wouldn’t mind his own cold fingers. She didn’t seem to.

[little-writings]

can i request a fanfic where mc is a veterinarian with her own clinic and the reason she meets jumin is because of elizabeth needing a checkup!

Oh my goodness absolutely! This was actually so fun to write! 

Anyhow, I hope you have an amazing day and enjoy!

———————————————————————————————————–

“How long has it been since Elizabeth 3rd has been to the vet?” V asked, grinning fondly as the snowy-white cat pressed against his legs, a purr beginning to rumble in her throat.  

“She doesn’t need to see a vet. She’s in perfect health.” Jumin remarked, fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves absentmindedly. “I have a chef prepare her a perfectly figured diet, one of the most  accalimed groomers brush her coat once a week, and-”  

“They’re supposed to get examined yearly.”  

“Who are?”  

V scoffed. “Cats, dogs, and any other animal you could call a pet.”  

“I’ll see about having a house veterinarian come by.”  

“Well, I’ve actually been hearing quite a bit about a certain veterinarian. I think you’d like them.”  

“Are they on call?”  

“No, they have a well-established practice downtown.”  

“Then I’m not interested.” Jumin stated matter-of-factly. “Taking Elizabeth 3rd outside presents too many risks. She could get hurt, lost or both – or even worse. I would never forgive myself if that were to happen.”  

V’s brows furrowed behind his tinted frames. “They’re apparently one of the best in the country. I hear there’s not a pet they don’t get along with.”  

“I would hope so, being a professional. That doesn’t change the fact that it’s an on-site practice. Any potential danger to Elizabeth 3rd isn’t worth it.”  

“Do you really think I’d recommend something that could hurt Elizabeth 3rd?”  

Jumin jerked his head to V and found himself stumbling over his words, cornered by his own stubborn mind. “What? No, I ah – no of course not.”  

The ends of V’s lips curled up and he knelt down to scratch Elizabeth behind the ears, her quiet purring volume erupting to that of a lawnmower.  

“Then give them a try.”  

Jumin wrinkled his nose. “Why are you so adamant?”  

“Because,” V simpered. “I think you’d like them.”  

Jumin didn’t have to ask the next question for V to know what he was wondering.  

“They’re professional and very devoted to their work,” He rose to his feet and rummaged through his jacket, snagging a crisp, clean card from his pocket. He gave it to Jumin who eyed it curiously.  

“In fact, they remind me of you.”  

Jumin paused. Pawprints bordered the card alongside hearts and a phone number he supposed he had no choice but to call at this point. He hardly saw V enough these days, the last thing he wanted to do was disappoint him.  

“I’ll… I’ll think about it.”  

And so, later that evening, he found himself calling.  

“Loving Paws Animal Hospital, how can I help you?” The voice on the other line was sickeningly sweet and welcoming, as though dipped in honey and soaked in sugar.  

Jumin paused and bit the inside of his cheek, swallowing his pride. ”Yes, I’d like to speak to your lead veterinarian?”  

“MC? They’re currently with a client at the moment, but I’d be more than happy to transfer you to their voicemail. Have we seen the pet before?”  

“No. No one has.”  

The secretary must’ve been left at a loss at the stern tone and proclamation, but she did her best regardless against the statue that was Jumin Han.

“So, it’s a new pet?”  

“No.”

“Then… you’re a new client?”  

“Yes. Potentially.”  

Jumin heard an attempt at a stifled snicker and the hospital gained a mental strike in his mind.  

“Okay well, I’ll just go ahead and transfer you to MC’s voicemail. You have a wonderful day, sir!”

That sugary sweetness returned once more, perhaps even more high-pitched than it had been. There was a pause on the other line before your voicemail began. Your voice, in comparison, was light, airy. Jumin could only think of a pleasant song when listening to it – something he found himself falling into.

“Hi this is MC, I can’t get to the phone right now but if you’ll leave a message I’ll do my best to get back to you as soon as I can!”

Despite all the preparedness Jumin thought he might’ve had, he still managed to stumble the second that alerting sound went off.

“I-I ah yes – my name is Jumin Han, and I was considering setting up an appointment for my cat, Elizbeth 3rd. It’s just for an annual exam, though I don’t even think she really needs it she’s in pristine-”

Jumin realized he was rambling and cleared his throat sheepishly.

“Anyways, I was hoping I could ask you some questions before making a final decision. If you would call me back, it’d be appreciated. Thank you.”

Jumin let out a deep sigh and relented to the horrible process of waiting.

You returned the phone call in the evening when the warm oranges, purples, and slightest hues of a deep, murky blue were settling in and spreading overhead. Jumin answered in an instant.

“Hi! Is this Mr. Han?” Your voice was even softer beyond a recorded message. You sounded sweet, but just the tiniest bit tired.

“Yes. MC, isn’t it? I’ve heard many things about you.”

You chuckled. “Good things I hope.”

A smile tugged at Jumin’s face. “Good things only. It has set my expectations high.”

“Well, I’d be delighted to meet those expectations, Mr. Han. Now, what can I do for your Elizabeth 3rd?”

“Technically speaking, there is nothing that’s necessary. Elizabeth 3rd is perfectly taken care of. I simply can’t imagine any problems arising for such a creature.”

“And what kind of perfect creature is she?”

“She is a Persian.”

You thought for a moment, and Jumin could hear a pen tapping against a desk. “Persian cats can have some complications, even if they’re in otherwise perfect living conditions. Unfortunately, it just comes with the breed.”

A sudden twisting of knots appeared in Jumin’s stomach. He tensed. “Such as…?”

“Well, you know their cute little smushed faces? Like pugs their nasal passages are shorter and more susceptible to their environments.”

Jumin opened his mouth to speak, but you continued on like a textbook’s worth of knowledge had just been released.

“And Persians specifically are prone to polycystic kidney disease, and you have to watch out for that because if ignored when they reach eight or nine years old they could suddenly collapse and die-”

You stopped yourself. You might’ve not needed to jump to that immediate conclusion.

“But I uh – it is also perfectly possible that Elizabeth 3rd is in a completely healthy state!”

Jumin was now staring wide-eyed at Elizabeth 3rd who sat uncaringly in the center of the living room. She was grooming herself and only her tail was lightly swaying from side to side across the carpet. She appeared almost serene.

‘They could suddenly collapse and die.”

A pit crumpled in Jumin’s insides.

“When’s the soonest I can come in?”

You laughed nervously. There was a clicking of a computer mouse and a brief moment of silence where you glanced through the schedule. “I can squeeze you in tomorrow afternoon?”

“I’ll be there.”

“Mr. Han… are you okay?”

Jumin looked once more at Elizabeth 3rd who now raised her head to meet him. She closed and opened her eyes slowly, mewing.

“I will be when I know Elizabeth 3rd is okay.”

You sighed. “It sounds like Elizabeth 3rd has a very devoted pet parent. She is lucky to have you Mr. Han.”

“I am lucky to have her.”

The call ended soon after with you meekly attempting to assuage his fears, and Jumin beginning to pace about Elizabeth like any cause for concern he’d already miss would simply leap out for a dramatic entrance.

Jumin could now hardly wait for the appointment he considered pointless just hours ago.

V may or may not have received multiple texts of concerns throughout the night. The internet truly did not help the situation.

‘I read online that Persians with blue eyes can have something called Congenital ankyloblepharon. While the website says it’s not deadly, another said it’s linked to a fatal disease.’

‘Because of Elizabeth’s small nasal passage, a website is now telling me Elizabeth will more than likely develop a heart condition. Elizabeth 3rd does not deserve this.’

V had begged him to just wait until tomorrow and Jumin reluctantly agreed.

When the appointment finally arrived, Jumin had made sure Elizabeth would only travel in the best his wealth could provide. However, diamond-encrusted cat carriers apparently took a great deal of time to create, so a polyester and mesh carrier would have to do – lined with sherpa, of course, and filled with her favorite toys.

While Jumin had been anxious and fidgety the entire drive, Elizabeth 3rd was curious, excited even. When Elizabeth was pawing at the mesh lining to peek closer at the car window Jumin was tugging at his sleeves and holding his breath. Even Driver Kim took notice, though his support did little to ease his worries.

He only felt a little ease when he finally arrived at the clinic. The secretary had been stunned at the famous heir’s arrival, but quickly recognized his voice. Her surprise then shifted to amusement, a sly smile stretched across her face.

“Hello Mr. Han! How’re you doing today?”

Jumin furrowed his brow, glancing away. “I am… anticipating my meeting with MC.”

“Stressed for the little lady?” The secretary pointed with her pen to Elizabeth 3rd, now rolled over on her back and playing with one of her toys. This was easily one of her favorite days already.

“Very much so.” Jumin answered.

“We’ll be sure to get you in quick then.”

Jumin nodded hurriedly, and sat down. When his name was called he nearly tripped from how quickly he shot up. It was a… difficult day for maintaining composure.

He ran his fingers through his hair, took a deep breath, and then proceeded on through the hall where you waited in the consulting room.

He hadn’t quite known what he’d expected when he saw you, but he still found himself without words, if only for a second. Your face was kind, far more than the ones he’d known throughout his life with eyes that offered a sense of comfort to soften the stress so clearly brimming at the surface.

“Hi Mr. Han.” You set a ginger hand on Jumin’s shoulder, offering a warm smile. “I heard you’re feeling a little concerned for Elizabeth 3rd?”

“That is an understatement.”

You folded your lips in thought, drawing your hand away only to lightly clap, determined. “Well I’ve never met an animal I can’t help, and I don’t intend to stop now.”

A bit of the weight dropped from Jumin’s chest. You tapped against the examination table – a heavy counter in the center of the room with a smooth, thick surface.

The room itself was decorated with pictures of animals surrounded by varying degrees of puns. The one the most caught Jumin’s eye was a photo of a cat, tail tucked just over its paws and a sweet expression beneath the words, ‘you’re purrfect.’

He wondered if you chose that one personally. He hoped so.

Jumin unzipped the carrier atop the counter for Elizabeth 3rd to poke out. She only hesitated for a moment before stepping out to greet your hand, fingers outstretched for her to curiously sniff. You beamed at the very sight of her, leaning down as she dipped her head against your hand, eager to be pet.

“Hello, Ms. Elizabeth! Aren’t you beautiful?” You scratched her cheek and her purring began, akin to a lawnmower. “She’s so sweet!”

Jumin watched as you examined her, flashing a light in her eyes and ears, squeezing her tummy for any masses, and flexing her legs for achy joints. Her temperature was normal, not even a rapid heart rate.

“Now I don’t want to stress her out on her first visit but I recommend we do an ultrasound,” You had remarked, rubbing her belly in one of the rare opportunities that a cat not only tolerated such an action but enjoyed it. Elizabeth 3rd was a rare creature indeed. “It’s just to make sure she doesn’t have anything bad developing in her kidneys.” 

“Do you expect there to be anything?” 

Elizabeth pawed playfully at your fingers, pulling them close to rub her cheeks against them when you relented. You had to draw your gaze back to Jumin to keep yourself from becoming distracted. It was rare to see Elizabeth 3rd warming up to someone so quickly. “Do I?” 

You paused, and then laughed. “Of course you’re asking me, I’m sorry! I don’t know what got into me – she’s just such a cutie! But ah – no I don’t. Elizabeth 3rd is as close to perfect as it gets. You weren’t kidding when you said how well she’s taken care of.” 

“She means the world to me.” Jumin hummed, Elizabeth tipping her head to see him and meowing. She almost appeared to smile when he scratched just beneath her chin. 

“May I ask how you found her?” 

Jumin hesitated, remembering the golden hair and slender hands that once held Elizabeth. It brought a pang. 

“She was a gift from someone dear.” 

You could see Jumin’s sadness so easily. You could only make your best effort to soften the hurt. “They must’ve known you two would be perfect for each other.” 

Jumin lifted his head to look up at you, and you smiled. It was gentle, and at that moment, brighter than the very sun. You wore your heart on your sleeve, and it was beautiful. He grinned, if only gently. “Thank you.” 

“Just being honest.” 

The ultrasound was an experience. Jumin thought you had to be lying or attempting a cruel joke when you brought the clippers. There was simply no way you truly could want to ruin Elizabeth’s coat! 

You had promised only the ‘teeny-tiniest’ area would be shaved, but you also promised it’d be cute. Jumin couldn’t completely disagree. 

You had him hold her still during the ordeal, his hands folded over her front legs and keeping her close as you carefully ran the clippers over her stomach. Elizabeth simply rubbed her head against Jumin’s suit. 

“See! Look at that little pink tummy!” You pointed to the now thin white hairs where just between the faintest hints of skin could be spotted. You encouraged Jumin to run his hand over and it was… oddly soft if admittedly strange. 

“There’s no way you don’t think that’s adorable.” You exclaimed. 

“It’s not not adorable. 

That made you laugh. 

The procedure itself was quick and easy. The probe found no problems within Elizabeth’s kidneys and the only issue that arose was Elizabeth 3rd squeaking in surprise at the cold gel spread over her stomach. 

“I’m sorry sweetie, I’ll get this chilly stuff off you quick, okay?” 

You made plenty of little comments like those to Elizabeth 3rd. While many others would hardly regard something as minuscule you took every effort to make Elizabeth 3rd comfortable. Jumin noticed each and every time. You were doting. 

Just as you said, you wiped her clean, only peppering her in pets all over her belly and sides as she could rollover. 

“She is the picture of health, Mr. Han. The only thing I’d recommend is we make these ultrasounds yearly to keep an eye on her – and so I can see her again.” 

Jumin chuckled. “I take it she’s swept you off your feet?” 

“Like she’s my prince charming.” You snickered. “I’m a sucker for pretty kitties.” 

“I’m glad someone else can appreciate Elizabeth 3rd for her perfection.” 

You nodded. “I also appreciate the owner that’s given her the chance to flourish so much.” 

There was a different type of pang in his chest and the tiniest bit of red flickered upon Jumin’s cheeks. Either you didn’t notice, or you didn’t say anything. 

But you smiled. 

“I ah – I might need to bring her in again sooner than her next yearly. I’ve been researching and read of other conditions in her breed that I’d like to look into.” 

You caught on quick. “Right, and we wouldn’t want to overwhelm Elizabeth 3rd with so much on her first visit! It might be best to stretch these concerns over multiple appointments just so we can do the best job possible for her.” 

“And you can teach me what to look out for and how to find them.” Jumin settled Elizabeth 3rd back in her carrier, pawing at you through the mesh, pink pads just barely peeking through. 

“Of course! And you are more than welcome to call! In fact…” 

You tore off a piece of paper from your notes, scribbling quickly before giving it to him. “Here is my personal phone number, for any questions you may have.” 

Jumin smirked and tucked it away in his pocket. “I expect I could find quite a few until our next appointment.” 

You clicked your pen, simpering. “I’ll be patiently waiting, Mr. Han.” 

“Jumin is fine.” He stretched out his hand, palm open. “In fact, allow me to properly introduce myself – we weren’t given the proper chance. I’m Jumin Han. It is a pleasure to meet you.” 

Warmth reached your cheeks, but you didn’t object, returning the gesture with a firm grip. “MC. The pleasure is all mine. I really do look forward to seeing you again, Jumin.” 

It was rare Jumin could say the same, but for once he did, he truly, truly did. 

“As do I.” 

[adventuresinwonderlust]

Title: Serious Inquiries Only: PART 5

*FOR PART 1 CLICK HERE, FOR PART 2 CLICK HERE, FOR PART 3 CLICK HERE, For PART 4 CLICK HERE or SEE MASTERLIST*

Pairing: dom! yoongi x reader ft. Hobi

Warnings: Talk of sexual favors, flirting, crack, humor, Slight angst, Dry Humping (M) (F), Daddy Kink, Glory Hole (M) Receiving.

Rating: 18 and over

Tag list: @mochilicious-yoongi​

Hobi:

“Let me get this straight, you applied for a VIP invite for Y/N to go to the SIO Annual Meet and Greet because you want to reveal yourself as Gloss to her?” Hobi angrily whispers to Yoongi across the table at the quaint diner on campus. “Yes, that’s exactly right.” Yoongi says with confidence, sipping his Iced Americano. “Can I give advice here?” Hobi lifts a finger in the air for permission. “No,” Yoongi clips, “Your advice is the reason I’m stuck in this shitty predicament. I want her Hobi, and I don’t want to wait anymore. I won’t compete with anyone and that includes myself.” “Ah Hyung. I just don’t want to upset her. She can really be, sensitive, you know. I don’t want this to trigger her to close off again like she did with Trevor.” “I’m not Trevor.” Yoongi states. “I know, I know but still. If she freaks out, she will just retreat into her own head and who knows when any of us will see her again.” Yoongi throws himself back, sighing in frustration. Hobi eyes him carefully, trying to gauge whether he is angry. “I’m sorry Hobi. I’m doing this. I sent the invitation already. Enough is enough. She deserves to know, and I deserve an end to this vicious cycle.” “I understand that but Hyung…” “Enough Hobi! I don’t care ok. I’m doing this,” Yoongi shouts, getting up now, pulling his wallet out, and placing money on the table, “I’m sorry to shout. I know you mean well. Breakfast on me. Talk later.”

Hobi enters the apartment he shares with Y/N, trying desperately to avoid her and/or a conversation with her. He shuts the door softly, locking it slowly, and hurrying towards his room. He sighs once he makes it safely, dropping his pouch on his bed and pulling off his jacket. He turns to flick the light on, yelling bloody murder at the sight of Y/N sitting at his computer desk. “What are doing in here?” He shouts. “I was lonely.” She shrugs. He pants, desperately, mumbling under his breath angrily. “I have request to fill today Y/N, so um, please, I need my desk.” He waves for her to move out of his seat. “Sitting in the dark like a creep.” He grumbles, starting his computer. “Did you see Yoongi today?” She inquires, hanging Hobi’s jacket in the closet for him. “Yeah, I did. We had breakfast.” “How is he?” “Good.” Hobi clips, trying to keep things short. “Did he mention me?” “Nope. We talked shop, normal stuff.” “Oh, I guess he’s still mad at me.” Hobi shrugs, “He didn’t mention it.” “Maybe I should go see him.” “Uh, no, he’s working now so, best leave it be.” She nods in response, fiddling with the items on Hobi’s desk. “I really like him Hobi, I just can’t get Gloss out of my head, like I felt a connection with him. I know it sounds dumb but it's true. I wish I was better at this relationship shit.” She sighs. Hobi looks at her as she aimlessly moves about his bedroom. “You know, I think the first step in all this would be to let go of all the shit that happened with Trevor. I feel like you never got over that and it's controlled your every decision since the two of you broke up. Forgive him, not because he deserves it but because you do.” Her eyes light up and she walks over to Hobi and hugs him. “You’re so smart Hobi and right. What would I do without you?” Hobi chuckles, pushing her away jokingly, “Alright, Alright, I’m still traumatized from Yoongi’s birthday. I don’t feel comfortable being this close to you yet.” She laughs, slapping Hobi’s arm and walking out of his room. Hobi throws his head back, groaning loudly, trying to relieve the stress accumulated at his shoulders.

Y/N:

You walk tall, confidence and anxiety fueling your every step. “I got this.” You continue to say over and over, finally arriving at your destination. You yank the door open, the bells chiming loudly as you enter. You walk to the counter and wait. In no time, a person emerges from the back, “Welcome to Iron Ink, how can I help…. Holy Shit. Y/N, hi. What are you doing here?” “Trevor, hi. I think it’s time we talked.”

Yoongi:

“I’ll take the thigh restraints.” Yoongi points at the leather thigh cuffs lined in fur. The employee behind the counter nods, handing him the box. Yoongi takes to reading the back, “Does this come with the wrist restraints?” He inquires. “Nah, but we have the matching ones in the back stock if you want them.” Yoongi nods. “You want the locks as well.” The employee asks. “Yeah, everything.” “You got it Gloss.” The employee says, heading to the back stock room. Yoongi takes to browsing the small shop, his eyes settling on a set of sterling silver nipple clamps. He takes the box off the shelf and reads the back. The employee emerges from the back. “Ah, those are a best seller.” He explains to Yoongi. “Do you have them in gold?” “I do actually.” Yoongi nods. “Excellent. I’ll take them in gold and get me rubber covers for them just in case, oh and more lube.” “You are going all out today. She must be special huh?” The employee smiles. “Very.” Yoongi mumbles, pulling out his credit card and handing it to the employee.

Y/N:

“I must admit, it’s a shock to see you after all this time. I mean, we didn’t end things well.” Trevor explains, pulling a chair out for you to sit in. You look around the back room, remembering all the times the two of you had fooled around back here when suddenly your heart drops and you imagine all the other women he must have fooled around with as well. “We didn’t, did we?” You turn to face him now. “No. I mean things were not good towards the end.” He chuckles. You eye him angrily. “What’s funny?” “Nothing. I mean you were kind of going crazy back then. Showing up unannounced and the arguing was just, well you remember.” “Maybe because my boyfriend was handing out free tattoos with every blowjob.” You snip. He sucks his teeth, sitting up straight. “You know I wasn’t doing that. I’m not going to say I was a saint cause I wasn’t but I wasn’t sleeping with clients.” “Bullshit,” You hiss, “Just be honest Trevor.” He shrugs. “So, you came here to hash things up again? I'm not really interested in doing that honestly. Like if you wanted to catch up and I don’t know, check in, then cool but I don’t want to talk about the past.” “Check in? You mean fuck? Not on your death bed would I bless you with this cunt again.” Trevor laughs out loud at your brazenness. “I know how wild you can get baby girl. Who's taking care of you now a days?” You roll your eyes at his pig-headed question but decide to give him what he wants. “Actually, Yoongi. You remember him, don’t you?” You lean back in the chair you're sitting in and cross your legs, resting your hands in your lap. Trevor tilts his head in confusion, and you watch in amusement as the wheels spin. “Wait a minute. That quiet dude that used to chill with Hobi? Get the fuck outta here. I always knew he had a crush on you. That’s interesting because you were always accusing me of cheating and here you are fooling around with the kid that drooled every time you walked by. Who's the pot and who's the kettle in this equation Y/N?”

You laugh out loud. “You are both pot and kettle. Had I just gotten with Yoongi and ignored you from the beginning I wouldn’t be sitting here looking for closure now.” “Oh, I see, you want closure. Well, here it is for you. You were hot, I knew that Yoongi kid wanted you but he’s an arrogant fuck and I wanted to one up him and guess what, I did. Tell him to enjoy my sloppy seconds.” You gasp, jumping from your seat and slapping Trevor across the face. “Fuck you Trevor! You’re trash. I can't believe it took me so long to realize it.” You say simply, heading out of the tattoo shop. “Hey, Y/N,” Trevor calls out to you, curiosity fueling you to spin and face him. “You said you wanted closure, well, here it is for you. I’m an asshole who played at being a decent guy to get you in my bed. Once I used you up, I went back to what I did best and that’s fuck around. We all have a cross to bear baby girl. I’m not ashamed of who I am. The question here is after all this time, have you figured out who you are without me?” You scoff at his statement, shaking your head, and releasing a huge sigh. “Yeah, I did Trevor, and I couldn’t have done it without you showing me exactly who you are, so thank you and I forgive you. Take care.” You pull the door open, the fresh air from outside blowing your hair back. You close your eyes and let it wash over you when you smile, feeling free finally, of Trevor, of the past.

Yoongi:

Yoongi arrives to his apartment, setting his goodie bags on the ground next to him and digging his keys out of his pocket to unlock the door. He grabs his bags once again and grips the knob, turning it and walking into the now locked door. “What the fuck?” He huffs, setting the bags down again and digging his keys out. He shoves them into their respective locks and turns the knob, throwing the door open. “Huh.” He whispers, wondering if he could’ve left this morning without locking the apartment. He grabs his bags and walks into the apartment carefully. He shuts the door quietly, reaching into the umbrella holder by the door for the bat he keeps there. He pulls it out gently and moves throughout his apartment. He notices his bedroom door open and lifts the bat up as he makes his way to his room. He shoves the door open quickly, shouting into the room, “Hands up!” “Well at least you practice safe sex.” His mother drawls, turning around from his bed with his box of condoms and silk ties in her hands.

Yoongi sighs in relief, “Eomma, what are doing in my things?” “I was straightening up this place. It needs a woman’s touch in here. Tell me what are these for? Do you tie women up for sexual pleasure? Are you a deviant?” Yoongi pinches at the bridge of his nose in frustration. “I am not a deviant no, please put those things back and next time don’t go through my things.” She turns around with a grunt, placing the items in the secret drawer she found them in. Yoongi spins and leaves the room, grabbing his bags from the adult store and hiding them in the hall closet. “Why didn’t you call?” He asks, his mother emerging from his room. “Can’t a mother surprise her son for his birthday?” She mumbles, moving around with purpose, inspecting his apartment. “My birthday passed already Eomma. You could’ve just called.” “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you in person. You’re always so busy now. I had to pop up.” “About that, that key I gave you, it’s for emergencies only.” “Today was an emergency. Motherly emergency. I haven’t heard from you in a while. How’s work?” She shuffles towards Yoongi’s office causing Yoongi’s heart to jump. “Uh, Eomma, come, let me make you tea. I’ll tell you all about work and show you some sheet music.” She stops, smiling at him with a nod. Yoongi turns and begins for the kitchen. “Oh,” He hears her yelp, “Tell me, is this used for piano lessons?” She comes from the hall, holding one of Yoongi’s goodie bags in one hand and the box of thigh restraints in the other.

Y/N:

“Ahhh, fuck, yeah, fuck! I'm cumming.” You cringe, hearing Hobi shout from his bedroom as you enter your apartment. You drop your keys on the counter, a shimmering silver envelope catching your eye. You grab it off the counter and are immediately surprised to see it’s addressed to you. You flip the envelope over and tear it open to reveal an invitation:

Dear WildGoddess11:

You have been exclusively invited to attend Serious Inquiries Only Annual Meet and Greet Event by one our top content creators Gloss93.

Our event will be held Saturday XX-XX-XXXX at 10pm. Please be sure to sign in at our VIP table to receive your exclusive VIP bracelet that will allow you access to some of our latest and greatest products and features, as well as mingle with some of the best content creators across our platform.

We look forward to meeting you.

Remember,

Serious Inquiries Only

Your jaw drops and your heart races as your eyes scan the invite over and over. You haven’t spoken to Gloss in a week and Hobi says he never attends the meet and greet. You needed to talk to Hobi, but you knew he'd kill you if you walked in while he was filming.

You pull your phone out of your pocket and text Hobi. ‘I need to talk to you ASAP, 911!’. In a frantic flash, Hobi emerges from his bedroom, throwing a shirt on over his head. “What's going on?” He pants. You simply lift the invite up in the air and allow him to take it from you. “Shit.” He whispers, reading the invite quickly, and slapping it in his palm nervously. “What should I do?” You ask, scanning his puzzled face.

“Hey, I’m going to head out. Thanks for the lunch break. Call me later?” A random female waves at you, having popped out of Hobi's room. Your gaze widens watching Hobi walk over and smooch the unknown female. “Sure thing beautiful. Talk soon.” He walks her out and closes the door, heading to the kitchen for a Gatorade. “What?” He asks, plopping down on the couch. “Who was that?” “Later for that. We have more pressing matters at hand.” He clips, raising the invite in the air. “Ok, so, do I accept the invite?” You shrug. Hobi drops his head back, grunting in frustration. “What?” You whine. “Nothing, it’s nothing. I guess I feel bad. This is all my fault. If I hadn't given you Gloss’ code, you wouldn’t be so confused about everything.” Hobi explains, running his fingers through his hair. “No, stop it. I am ok Hoseok, really. I am happy you gave me his code. You pushed me out of my shell and challenged me to get back out into the world. I love you. I mean, I couldn’t do any of this without you!” You walk over to Hobi now and drop down into his lap hugging him. “I love you too Y/N, even if you are a nasty freaking psycho sometimes.” You both burst into laughter, breaking the hug. “Hey, don’t think we aren’t going to address the random girl that just walked out of here. Spill it Hobi!!” You scold, smiling once you see the large grin spread across his face.

Yoongi:

Yoongi sighs deeply, exhausted from having dealt with his mother the night before. He always hated when she popped up on him unannounced, sneaking around his life, searching for some deep dark secret. Yoongi is thankful for his quick wit and being able to convince his mother that the items she found were for a gift for Hobi, whom she’s never met and now never wanted to. He spent the rest of the night, showing her his sheet music and lesson plans for his students, pulling out his old keyboard from his closet and playing for her until she was satisfied enough to leave. What should’ve been a quiet birthday dinner between mother and son, like normal people, turned into a night of mental tug of war. Yoongi drank back his Americano quickly, kicking himself for not getting a larger size, when his phone buzzed.

Goddess: I got your invitation to the meet and greet. I have to say I’m a little confused, why would you invite me to that? I’ve heard through the grapevine that you’ve never attended. Any reason for the change up?

Me: Yeah… you.

Goddess: I don’t understand.

Me: Promise you will.

Goddess: Well, in that case, I accept. You are officially unblocked. How will I recognize you?

Me: I’ll be wearing a white and gold mask. Text me when you arrive, and I’ll tell you where I am.

Goddess: I am so excited to finally see your face.

Me: I am excited to finally shed this mask.

Goddess: What does that mean?

“Hey.” Yoongi hears, his head popping up from his phone. He smirks catching Y/N put her phone in her pocket. Yoongi pulls in a deep breath. “So, why on earth are we meeting in the student library. It’s a bit, high school romance, no?” Y/N scoffs at Yoongi’s comment. “Actually, I felt like it’s a better option for us. Lots of people around. No funny business, just schoolwork.” Yoongi nods, grinning at her ridiculous assumption. “And using Hobi to get in contact with me, I mean, we aren’t kids.” “It just worked out that way Yoongi. Besides, you were a bit pissed at me last time we saw each other.” “Can you blame me?” “No, that’s why I chose the library. No temptation, out in the open.” She waves her arms around at the space and Yoongi chuckles at the empty space. “There’s no one here because its 9am. The library isn’t crowded until lunch time and I promise you there isn’t a surface in this place that doesn’t have some sticky substance on it.” Yoongi says with raised brows, shaking his head when her eyes pop open.

“Well, anyway I wanted to get started on our project now, so we have less to do later.” “Think you can focus long enough naughty girl?” Yoongi teases, leaning forward to brush his arm against hers. She slides over a bit, clearing her throat and pulling a notebook from her bag. “Did you have a topic in mind?” She asks, opening the notebook looking at Yoongi. “No, I actually haven’t really thought about it.” “Well, I was thinking of doing an expose on social media and the evolution of platforms like SIO.” She suggests causing Yoongi’s brows to fly upwards. “Uh, yeah, no. I’m not really interested in that. We should pick a subject that matters and that we know a lot about.” “Oh, come on, we can interview Hobi. I think it’ll be fun and outside the box.” Yoongi shakes his head, eyeing Y/N suspiciously. “So suddenly you’re the expert on SIO? Why the sudden interest?” He questions. “No reason other than the students at this school really love it and it’s a huge money-making platform.” She shrugs. “Bullshit. Give me your username and I’ll subscribe to your content.” Yoongi teases, trying to see if she’ll open the door for him to confess. She laughs out loud. “You’re adorable. I don’t have an SIO and if I did, you wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

Yoongi breaths in deeply, eyeing their surroundings to be sure it's still empty before leaning in to whisper in her ear. “You sure about that naughty girl? I seem to be handling you pretty well don’t you think?” “Uh, Yoongi, stop. We need to focus.” She whispers, tucking her hair behind her ear. Yoongi leans in closer, smelling her sweet perfume, his erection growing as his need flows throughout his body. “Do you really want me to stop? Because if you do, I’m going to need you to stop biting on your lip.” He whispers to her, lifting his hand to pull her bottom lip from her teeth. She groans at his touch, slamming her mouth into his. Yoongi takes a deep breath through his nose, raptured by her aggressive attack on his mouth. He moans as she shoves her tongue in his mouth, swirling hers around his until she can grasp his tongue with her lips and suckle on it. His cock strains in his jeans and he is grateful when she straddles him, driving her sex across his jailed member. “So much for focusing on schoolwork.” Yoongi groans between kisses. “Shut up before I change my mind.” She pants, grinding down harder into his lap. “Fuck.” Yoongi grunts, lifting her up and sitting her onto the desk in front of him. He takes her mouth into another lustful kiss, making his way down her neck, nipping at the soft flesh.

He stands up straight, making himself comfortable between her legs. “Yoongi…” She whines. “Shh. You wouldn’t want anyone to hears us would you,” He warns, gripping her by hips and pulling her forward until her sex is pressed firmly against his massive hard on, “Now, do daddy a favor and let him watch you fuck yourself against his cock. Quickly naughty girl, it seems like there’s a crowd building in here.” He teases, hitching his hips forward to run across her clit. She gasps at the feeling, taking no time in grinding against him again. He takes her hips and pulls her closer against him, the feeling of her trembling walls teasing his cock in the most amazing way. Her head falls back and Yoongi drinks in the sight of her panting and moaning softly, her wetness beginning to soak into the front of his jeans. “That’s it naughty girl. Just like that.” He encourages, moaning softly when she picks up her speed, her cunt flicking across his clothed tip. “Shit. You keep that up and you just might make me cum in my jeans. Would you like that naughty girl?” “Yes.” She whimpers, hooking one of her legs around his waist and pulling Yoongi closer to her core. She grips the back of his shirt tightly, moaning softly. “Please, daddy, suck my tits.” She begs, yanking down her top now, to expose one of her perky nipples. Yoongi growls, leaning his head down to wrap his pout around the pert bud, rolling his tongue along her piercing, a loud moan escaping her throat but Yoongi could care less if they are caught now.

His cock is too hard, and her cunt too soaked for him to ever stop now. He hums around her nipple, releasing it quickly and taking over the situation, feeling his climax building with every flick across his sensitive tip. He yanks her closer, wrapping both her legs around his waist and begins to hitch his hips upwards, gliding his needy erection across her sex, wondering when the last time he dry humped anyone was. She moans wildly causing Yoongi to cover her mouth as he wraps his arm around her waist, humping her faster and faster. Her breath quickens and thighs begin to shake. “Hold on for me naughty girl. I’m so close.” He grunts, his body burning, balls tightening, and stomach clenching. He grips her mouth tightly, panting into her ear, “I’m going to cum.” She nods her head, reaching up to pull his hand from her lips. “Me too, me too.” She moans. Yoongi groans as quietly as he can, his hot seed spurting out onto his balls and dripping down his jeans to his thigh. Y/N on the other hand, cries out loudly, biting onto Yoongi’s neck to hush herself before he can cover her mouth. “Fuck!” Yoongi hisses as Y/N clenches down harder on his neck, slowly releasing him when she comes down from her high. They are both panting messes when Yoongi takes a step back. She doesn’t say anything for a while, she just slides off the desk, gathering her things. “Yoongi, I…”  He looks her over and scoffs. “Yeah, yeah. I know how this goes. You gotta go right? This was wrong and what not. It's cool. I have to go home and shower anyway. I like the SIO idea.” He clips, trying to keep his composure. “Really? So, we’re good?” She inquires. He nods, not having a care in the world, safe in the knowledge that all will be revealed at the meet and greet.

HOBI:

“You look amazing Y/N.” Hobi smiles at his friend in her Rose pink skintight mini dress. “Do you think Gloss will like it?” She twirls. “I think he’s going to love it.” “I think it suits being a VIP at a fancy meet and greet event.” She giggles. “It definitely does, well, I'm gonna go ahead if you’re ok. The content creators are always asked to arrive before the event starts.” “I'm good. Go have fun and I'll see you there.” She waves him off. He takes her in one more time, feeling warm at how bright and happy she looks. “You really look great Y/N.” “Thanks Hobi.” He nods and head out the door.

He arrives at the event, smiling wide when he sees Yoongi clad in an all-black suit, clutching a white and gold full face mask. “How phantom of the opera of you.” He notes. Yoongi chuckles, scratching the back of his neck nervously. “I don’t know Hoseok, maybe this was a bad idea.” “No, no, no. Hey come on, Fighting! You got this! She looks amazing tonight by the way. You’re gonna drop dead. She’s just glowing, really.” Hobi can't help but gloat, leading Yoongi into the event. Yoongi slides his mask on, following closely behind Hobi. “Really? I can't wait to see her and get this charade over with.” “I just hope she remembers that we are friends and I have loved and supported her all these years, you know for when she goes to kill us.” Hobi laughs loudly. They approach the sign in table for content creators and check in, walking about the event. “Shit, look at this place.” Yoongi notes, looking around the space in amazement. “Yeah, last year they had GO-GO dancers, a motorcycle show, the works. This year I hear they have a lot of high-tech sex toys.” Hobi watches as Yoongi just nods, still looking about. “Hey, listen, I wanted to tell you something.” Hobi cuts in, drawing Yoongi’s attention. “What’s up?” Yoongi asks. “I asked Hannah to be my girlfriend.” Yoongi stops, turning to Hobi. “Shit. You really like her huh? Well, I called it. I'm happy for you Hoseok. Maybe after Y/N kills us we can all double date.” Hobi laughs loudly, patting Yoongi on the back. “For sure and you really did call it didn’t you. Great intuition I’m telling you.” Hobi praises, pushing Yoongi further into the event.

Y/N:

You arrive at the event on time, making your way over to the VIP table to check in. You take a deep breath, trying to calm the nerves you can't seem to shake. “Your name.” The check in clerk asks and you lean in close to give it to her. She smiles widely, handing you a VIP lanyard. “Enjoy the event. You’re super lucky, this is the first time that this content creator has ever attended an event.” You smile and nod, cringing when you walk away at the added nerves from the clerk's comment.

Me: I’m here.

Gloss: I’m in the VIP showroom.

Me: Ok, I am going to come find you.

Gloss: I'll be waiting.

You move through the event with ease, stopping every so often to check out some of the vendors and even chat with other content creators, buying time before you have to meet with Gloss, your nerves at an all-time high. You walk through the curtain to the VIP showroom, flashing your VIP tag to the security guard as you enter. You check out some of the vendor tables as you pass by, eyes widening at all the amazing new tech they offer. You stop at a table, checking out the toys at the table, your eyes scanning a vibrating anal plug. “40 percent off for VIPs.” The vendor says out loud to you. “Uh, that’s ok. I was just looking.” “Sure thing. It has 4 different speeds plus it heats up when the speeds increase.” “Wow.” You giggle. “Yeah, it’s a best seller on our website. Take my card.” He hands it to you and you nod, putting it in your clutch and walking off.

You make your way towards the back of the showroom and stop again at these two huge connected pods. “What on earth is this?” You mumble. “Ah, I’m glad you asked,” A very enthusiastic vendor boasts, “This here is a state of the art, never before seen, Glory Hole.” “Like a bathroom glory hole.” He laughs at your statement. “Essentially yes but this one is much cleaner and more intimate. It has a larger more comfortable, adjustable hole for the gentlemen as well as a vibrating saddle for the ladies to sit comfortably and get her own pleasure. Our technology is state of the art, the walls are full on touch sensitive and ignite with bursting colors when you or your partner touch or glide your hands against them. There is also a panel on the wall that allows for complete communication between the two pods, you can switch between three modes. First mode disguises the voice if you want to keep things nice and discreet, Second Mode allows you to talk naturally with your normal speaking voice if that’s what you prefer, and Mode Three shuts the coms off so your partner won’t be able to hear you. The panel also controls the lights in the room and the colors of the walls. So, what do you think? You wanna give it a go?” Your eyes pop open. “Excuse me?” You snap. The vendor laughs, “Not with me. Uh, whomever you’re here with, a content creator or boyfriend. We are offering testing for 60 percent off when you leave a review and refer a friend. We completely sanitize the room after every use, although you’d be the first using it tonight if you sign up and there are also UV lights in the room, constantly killing germs. We are quite popular at parties. I can always give you my card if you aren’t interested now. I know it’s a lot of information.”

Gloss: Where are you? Please don’t tell me you got cold feet.

You look down at the message, your heart fluttering, hearing Hobi’s voice in your head, ‘Be brave.’ “You know what, I think I am interested in trying it now.” “Great!” The vendor smiles, leading you over to the table to set up your payment. You swipe your card and send Gloss a text.

Yoongi:

Goddess: Meet me by the Giant Blue Pods, ask for Marcus.

Yoongi sighs, walking quickly towards the back of the showroom. He soon sees the giant blue pods and begins to look around for Y/N. “Are you Gloss?” A man approaches. “Uh, Yeah. Are you Marcus?” “Yeah,” The man sticks his hand out for Yoongi to shake. Yoongi shakes it, puzzled when Marcus turns his hand over to admire it. Yoongi’s brow furrows and he pulls his hand back. “Sorry man, I heard a lot about your hands.” “Uh, ok. Thanks, I think.” “Definitely a compliment. Anyway, you aren’t here for me. Right this way.” Marcus states, leading Yoongi towards the door on the left. “I don’t understand. I am supposed to be meeting someone.” Yoongi explains. “I know. Panel on the wall controls the coms. First mode is to disguise your voice, second comp is to speak naturally, Third shuts coms off completely. Otherwise, just have fun.” Marcus opens the door and Yoongi enters it, hearing the lock click once inside. “Welcome Gloss.” The Pod speaks causing Yoongi to jump back. “It’s me, Goddess.” Yoongi removes his mask, walking toward the panel on the wall and clicking on the first mode to disguise his voice. “What’s all this about?” He asks. Looking around at how the room lights up pink and blue when she giggles. “I was nervous to see you face to face so I figured this was easier.” He nods, running his fingers along the wall, jumping back when he sees it light up red. “Cool right?” She laughs. “What is this thing? A confessional?” He moves about the empty room. “It’s a modern-day Glory Hole.” She giggles, Yoongi smiling when the room lights up with her laugh.

“Are you serious?” “Sure am.” “And what exactly are we doing in a Glory Hole?” She giggles again. “I wanted to be able to speak freely but I was super nervous for some reason, silly I know, and since I know how much your anonymity means to you, I figure this was the best option. Besides, you never did show me your cock.” Yoongi laughs now, the room lighting up orange and red. “Did you set these lights up?” “I did, do you like it? I can change it or you can with the panel on the wall. I was waiting for you so I had to time to play with the settings.” “And the wall, it lights up too.” He inquires, moving towards the wall and placing his palm against it, a ring of red burst from beneath it. “Yeah, every time we touch it.” She explains, a burst of pink light emerging from beneath Yoongi’s palm which leads him to believe she is pressing her palm against his. “I want to see you. I have to talk to you face to face.” Yoongi swallows, dropping his hand. “We aren’t face to face but feel free to talk.” “Its better if we are face to face.” “I want you Gloss.” Yoongi scoffs. “You don’t even know me.” “Of course, I do and I’ve never been more attracted to someone in my life.” Yoongi scoffs at her comment, his heart nearly breaking at the thought that he’s lost Y/N to Gloss, an alter ego. “You really don’t.” “Don’t you want me?” She practically moans, causing Yoongi’s cock to twitch. “Of course I do.” He whispers, pressing his hands against the wall, smirking when the red bursts of light shoot out.

The machine makes a sudden whirring sound and Yoongi gasps at the sudden feeling of a hand on his crotch. He looks down to see a square opening in the wall, Y/N’s hand poked through rubbing at his growing erection. “Fuck.” He moans, pressing his crotch into her palm. “Let me suck your cock, please Gloss. I want you so bad.” She moans. The lights in the room suddenly dim and Yoongi moves towards the panel to try to turn them back on, not sure what he’s clicked on. He sucks his teeth, fiddling with his belt buckle, pouting when he sees her hand disappear through the hole. He frees his cock from its confines and begins to stroke it, his head falling back. “How do we do this?” He asks but she doesn’t respond. “You still there?” Her voice comes through. “Yeah.” He grunts, slowing his strokes down. She doesn’t respond and he realizes he’s turned his coms off. “Shit, hold on.” He says, moving towards the panel. “I don’t know what happened but put your cock through the hole baby.” She says in the neediest voice and Yoongi clicks on the panel button quickly, moving towards the hole and sticking his cock through. He immediately feels her hot wet tongue glide across his slit and he moans out, pressing his body firmly against the wall, biting down on his lip as the room cascades blue. She swirls her tongue gently around his tip, teasingly taking him inch by inch into her warm mouth. Yoongi bites down harder on his lip, stifling back the moan in his throat.

She soon moans around his cock, sending shockwaves through out his core, a soft vibrating sound filling his pod. Yoongi can’t hold back anymore, a loud groan escaping when she begins to bob back forth across his full length. “Shit.” He cries out when she takes him to the back of her throat, the sounds of her gagging filling his pod. He reaches down and cups his balls, tugging on them as she begins to bob on his cock again, pull back to his tip, suckling at the sensitive head, eliciting an animal like sound from him. He slams his fist against the wall, a red flash bursting throughout the room. She removes her mouth from his length, gasping and moaning out loud, sending chills down his spine. “Fuck Goddess. You sound so fucking sexy.” “I don’t know if you can hear me,” She begins, “But I’m so fucking wet, gliding my pussy across this vibrating saddle. I wish I was wrapped around your cock.” “Fuck.” He groans, stretching his arm out to try and reach the coms panel to turn it back on first mode. He strains, unable to keep his cock in the hole and reach the panel. He contemplates removing his member from the hole to turn on the coms when Y/N takes his cock back in her mouth.

“Fucking shit.” He cries out, the feeling of her running her tongue along the sensitive skin beneath his tip. He strains once again to reach the panel, his middle finger tapping the panel, her groan filling his pod when his cock slides from her lips. “Sorry baby.” He pants, standing tall now. “Can you hear me now?” He asks but Y/N just slurps his cock back into her mouth, using nothing but her tongue and hollowed mouth to yank him back towards her, his body hitting the wall. “Shit, you take my cock so well. Such a good girl for me.” She begins to bob faster, the walls lighting up pink at what Yoongi assumes are her hands against the wall. She moans frantically against his cock, her pace only quickening and Yoongi wonders if she’s close to cumming. He closes his eyes, imaging what she looks like right now, gliding her sopping cunt across that saddle, his cock hitting her throat. He moans freely now, hitching his hips forward uncontrollably as he keeps pace with her. He bends his knees a bit when she begins to gag and swallow his cock down her throat. The sweet sensation of her soft palate rubbing against his tip. She moans harder, swallowing more and more of him, his legs begin to shake as his balls tighten into his body. “Fuck baby, you’re so fucking amazing. I’m going to fucking cum. Shit.” He moans unabashedly, slamming his fist hard against the wall to warn her, since he knows she can’t hear him.

Her moans are louder now and desperate, and Yoongi just knows she cumming, the feeling of her throat vibrating around his cock sending him over the edge. “Oh. My. Fucking. God. Y/N, fuck, I’m fucking cumming baby.” He cries out, slamming his hip against the wall, his cock nestled firmly in her throat as his orgasm shoots out from his tip, coating her throat. She swallows him back with ease, sucking him through his high, pulling away and lapping the last bits of his arousal off his tip. He presses his forehead against the wall, laughing when it lights up the room pink. He moves towards the coms to turn them back on as he tucks himself away. He squints at the panel, his heart dropping when he sees its on the Second Mode. “FUCK! Y/N!” He shouts, looking down to be sure his cock is away and yanking on the booth door until it clicks open. He moves towards the door where Y/N should be and yanks it open…. EMPTY. “FUCK!” Yoongi yells. Marcus approaching him. “Hey man, she ran out. Everything ok?” “Yeah,” Yoongi pants, “Did you see which way she went?” Marcus points towards the exit of the VIP showroom and Yoongi goes running after her. He sprints towards the exit, slamming into Hobi. “Hyung, what the fuck is going on?” Yoongi is panting, desperately trying to catch his breath. “I fucked up Hobi, she left. I fucked it all up, I’m so fucking stupid!” He yells. “Hey, hey. Calm down. Put your mask on, people are looking at us.” Hobi warns. Yoongi puts his mask on happily, warm tears streaming down his face. “I fucked it all up.” He whispers. “Calm down Hyung. Let me call her ok. See where she is.” Yoongi shakes his head trying to stop Hobi from making the call. “Hey where are you?” Hobi asks on speaker phone. “Of all the men who would break my heart Hoseok, I never thought it’d be you.” She says with briefly, hanging up the phone. “What the fuck did you do?” Hobi turns to Yoongi, his face flushed red, an anger Yoongi has yet to see.

[floralguccistyles]

Long time no post! Things in my life have been crazy, from health problems with both myself and family members, to the deaths of both my grandpa and my cat, and work/school has been insane. I hope y’all forgive me and I hope this makes up for it. Let me know what you think!

wildflower :: chapter three

...and brings you flowers

Considering my morning started with having to deal with a customer whose key card didn’t work to get into their room, I could assume today was going to be a rough day. 

Things only continued to spiral downhill when I had finished getting the key card situation handled only to walk into the kitchen and find the coffee machine was broken. One of the chefs jokingly told me to make myself a cup of tea, but I think he got a little scared when my lower lip jutted out and started wobbling in frustration. I wasn’t going to cry, but that didn’t mean the tears wouldn’t stubbornly well up behind my eyes. 

If that wasn’t enough, on my break I had stubbed my toe on the corner coming around from checking up on one of the rooms. I had sworn very, very loudly in front of a family of four with two kids under twelve and the parents had glared at me. I hoped they had the decency to see that I was having a bad day and wouldn’t tell my supervisor. 

All I wanted to do was curl up in bed with a good book, a rom-com playing in the background, and maybe some soup. 

My day was only made worse when I saw Violet walking through the lobby doors as I was leaving. 

“Great,” I muttered under my breath, letting out a huff of irritated breath. She had her book bag thrown over her shoulder, holding onto the strap on her shoulder so tightly it was a wonder it didn’t break. “What’re you doing here?” I asked in a whisper, not wanting my boss to hear me talking to anyone the way I was talking to Violet. Unfortunately, my boss Clara was an only child and wouldn’t understand the sister love-hate bond Violet and I had. 

“Nice to see you too.” Violet looked frustratingly put together, as she always did. She had definitely sucked up the good looks that had obviously skipped the poor middle child (me). Her long hair was curled delicately and though she didn’t wear much makeup, she had never needed it. She had eyelashes models would kill for. “I was wondering if we could go get coffee or something.”

“Coffee? We don’t do coffee.”

“Christ, Rose, is it really that much of an inconvenience to hang out with your sister?” she asked incredulously, rolling her eyes at my reluctance. “I thought we could talk, hang out, get some coffee out of it. It’s not the end of the world.”

I had obviously done something to piss off whatever higher being existed because the icing on the cake to my terrible day was dealing with Violet’s snark. To simply stop her from complaining (because she was world-class at it), I sighed. “Fine. But you’re buying.”

“You’re the one with the full-time job!”

“Do you want to get coffee or not?”

“I’m regretting my choice now,” Violet said simply, but gestured towards the door of the building. She had an old car Niall had actually helped her find when she had started college, so we piled into it. I didn’t know what coffee place she was taking us to, but I decided I didn’t care. I hadn’t had any coffee this morning, and I was in desperate need. Plus, if Violet had a hundred dollars to make on the bet with Lily and Niall, she had enough money to buy me a four dollar cup of coffee.

She pulled into a little coffee house that was close to the campus Niall worked at. I wondered briefly if he frequented it when he worked. When we walked in, the smell of coffee beans hit my nose and gave me a small reprieve from the terrible day. “What do you want? Their caramel stuff is really good.”

“Whatever you get is fine.” Though Violet had questionable taste in most things, her taste in coffee was impeccable. She nodded and walked to the bar to order while I found us a place to sit, close to the window in case I needed to zone out and have something pretty to look at if Violet got too annoying. When she returned, she set my coffee in front of me and took a seat, her chair scraping loudly against the floor and making the both of us wince. I took a small sip of the coffee (something caramel, as she had suggested) and instantly felt ten times better. “This is the only good thing to happen to me all day.”

Violet rolled her eyes, mumbled something about me being overdramatic underneath her breath. “Lily thinks I need to apologize.”

“I think so too.”

“I don’t.”

I gestured to the coffee shop. “Then what’s the point of this?”

“You bit my head off when I was trying to explain last time. I was hoping you’d sit and actually have a civil conversation with me about things.” When I didn’t respond, just gestured for her to continue, she did. “I didn’t get you the psychologist’s number because I think you’re pathetic or that you can’t handle shit. I got it for you because no woman should ever be propositioned for sex and it’s absolutely disgusting that the prick tried to do some sort of quid-pro-quo and got nothing more than a slap on the wrist. And if I’m feeling that, as a third party, I can’t imagine how you’re feeling about it. So I got you her number in case you wanted to talk.”

“But you didn’t ask me beforehand. You went behind my back.”

“Because that’s what people do when they care about you, Rose!” Violet exclaimed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Christ, if I thought it would be this much work, I would have just saved myself the trouble. I just think it’s shitty he’s getting away with it, so I thought maybe you’d want to talk to someone. It’s not a problem that you can’t sleep without someone there, but don’t you think you need to analyze why? Especially because you never had a problem with it before. And you’re still paying too much money for rent in a flat you don’t even live in anymore.”

There was no point in arguing with her because she, frustratingly, wasn’t wrong. It was shitty that Kent was getting away with it and I probably was stupid for paying money for an apartment I wasn’t staying in. But I had gotten that trademark Fairbrough stubbornness, and I wanted to handle things my own way, as I had always done in my life.

“I appreciate it and can understand where you were coming from.” The words felt like lead on my tongue because I was a prideful person. “But I honestly don’t think I need to talk to someone. If I do think I need help, you’ll be the first person I’ll call.”

“We both know that’s a lie. You’d sooner call Lily or Niall before you’d call me,” she replied in a snarky voice, taking a sip of her latte and staring out the window.

I didn’t bother correcting her. 

“Look,” she said after a couple of moments, all of which were spent sipping at our drinks and not talking to one another, “will you just take the card? You don’t have to do anything with it, but it’ll make me feel better if you just take it.”

“Fine. But only because you bought me coffee.”

When I returned home to Lily’s flat, the psychologist’s number in my bag, I toed off my shoes and flung myself onto the couch. I wouldn’t nap because then sleeping tonight would be even more difficult, but I did just close my eyes and rest there for several moments while the bad day crashed over me. Distantly, I heard the sound of Lily’s front door swinging open and groaned out to her, letting her know I was on the couch.

“Rosebud, you okay?”

I turned my body around at Niall’s voice, nodding my head slightly. “Hi, Niall. Where’s Lily?”

“One of her clients called. They’ve got to meet her at the prison.” He moved my feet, sliding his body underneath before he deposited them back on his lap. 

“I had the worst day,” I answered his question a little late, sighing out as he gave me sympathetic eyes. “I think I might meet with my landlord next week. My lease is up next month and...I mean, I’m basically living here. I just don’t know if I want to let it go yet. It was the first apartment I rented on my own. And I don’t know if Lily wants me around forever…”

“Lily will let you stay with her as long as you need, you know that.” He reached forward and started massaging my calf, causing me to close my eyes sleepily underneath his touch. “Why was your day bad?”

“People at work. Then the coffee machine was broken. Then Violet came in.”

He laughed, but it was faraway. I was slipping into unconsciousness, and I knew if Niall didn’t stop massaging my leg, I was going to drift off. “You’ve got to stop,” I told him, pulling one of my legs away to poke him with my toe.

His hands hesitantly left my other leg. “Why? Uncomfortable?”

“Too comfortable,” I corrected, shaking my head. “I don’t want to nap and have a shitty night of sleep tonight.

“Just nap, Rosebud. You look like you need it. Do you work tomorrow?”

I shook my head, because thankfully I had tomorrow off. 

“Then, c’mon.” He moved my feet again and stood up, holding out a hand for me to take. I groggily grabbed it in my own, allowing him to pull me to my feet and lead me to my room. I flopped myself onto my bed and smiled as he tucked me in, patting down the blankets so they would stay put. It was only when I was underneath my covers that I realized how much the day had taken out of me. Any morning without coffee always exhausted me, but meeting with Violet had just done me in.

“How was your day?” I asked sleepily, reaching out and lacing our fingers together. He squeezed my fingers. “Are you feeling a little better from the sexual assault situation?”

He sighed. “I’m never going to feel good about it, Rosebud. The fact that any of my athletes could do that to someone...it tore me up inside.”

I decided Niall needed a nap almost as much as I did. I patted the spot next to me, inviting him to rest with me on the other side of my bed. He sent me a small smile, pushing off his shoes from his feet and lowering himself onto my bed, over the covers since he didn’t get nearly as cold as I did. 

“Rest with me,” I requested softly. “We could both use the sleep.”

He stared at me for a few seconds. “You’re one of a kind, Rosebud.”

I smiled, snuggling closer to him. His arm came around to rest on my waist, pulling me closer to him until my skin was pressed against his skin.

We must have only napped for an hour or so, but I woke up before Niall did. He was knocked out onto my lavender pillow, a tiny bit of drool sneaking out of his open mouth. At least he didn’t snore as much as I apparently did. His entire body was curled, crunched up like even in sleep, his tension wouldn’t leave him. I realized when I stretched that our legs were slightly tangled together, his hand still on my waist. My skin was warm where his fingers touched.

Niall was truly, unfairly attractive. Now that I could look at him without the awkwardness of him realizing I was staring, I could easily admit that to myself. I had always known Niall was a handsome guy, but he was always unattainable. He was Lily’s. I had no business thinking he was attractive.

But his brown hair was fluffed on the right side where it pressed against my pillow, and he had an adorable sleeping face and I admitted to myself right then and there that Niall Horan was beautiful. The fact that he basically belonged to Lily didn’t change that, and it probably never would. 

“Stop staring at me,” he said softly, his lips curling up at the corners.

I jumped, not expecting his voice since I still believed he was in the middle of sleeping. “Jesus, don’t scare me like that. How’d you know I was staring?”

“I felt in my soul that there was a pair of beautiful big brown eyes on me, and look at that,” he said, opening his own beautiful big eyes and grinning, “I was right.”

“You’re full of shit, is what you are.” But I found myself leaning back down on my bed and quietly taking in the silence with him. Silence was never uncomfortable with Niall like it was with other people. “Thanks for napping with me.”

“Hopefully it made your bad day a little better.”

“It did.”

My phone buzzed on the nightstand and I sleepily reached for it, reading the text from Lily.

Getting dinner with Carmen. We’ve both had a shitty day and have to discuss some things about the case. Feel free to use anything in the fridge for dinner tonight!

“Want to go get some food?” I asked Niall, showing him the text from Lily. 

“Sure. I can go pick up some Nando’s, if you want.”

I groaned, leaning my head into his shoulder. “You are my knight in shining armor. The wind beneath my wings. An angel among us mere mortals.”

“You’re more dramatic than usual today. The chicken pita like usual?” He stood from the bed, readjusting his shirt that had been slightly wrinkled in our nap. As he ran his hands through his hair, I found myself distracted by his forearms, which were showcased by the rolled-up sleeves he was sporting. I’d never really noticed Niall’s arms before, but they were as gorgeous as the rest of him.

Had I mentioned how unfairly beautiful he was?

“Yes, please. I think I have some soda and ice cream. I can make us some floats?”

“You’ve got root beer?”

I wrinkled my nose. “I think so?”

He laughed at my uncertainty, leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to the top of my head. “Alright. I’ll call in and go grab it really quick. See you in about thirty.”

“Thanks, Niall!”

“Anything for my Rosebud.”

I took the time he was gone to tidy up around the apartment a little. I wasn’t a messy person by any means, but with my bad day, I had left a little trail of Rose-messes on the couch and in the foyer, where I had deposited my shoes without a care in the world. The last thing I wanted was for Lily to come home and see my mess and decide she didn’t want me living with her. It was bad enough I still hadn’t found the necklace she had given me. Niall had scoured his place trying to find it, so I wondered if I had drunkenly taken it off at the bar that night with Niamh and Pat. Leaving her apartment a mess just felt like another strike against me. 

Niall returned about forty minutes later, ringing the doorbell because his hands were full of food. He grinned as I opened the door, reaching out his arm to hand me the food in the Nando’s bags. It was only after I had the food in my arms that I realized he was carrying another bag.

“What’d you get?” I asked, kicking the door shut with my foot as soon as he walked into the apartment. I set the food on the counter and got my phone out. “How much do I owe you? I can Venmo.”

“Put your fucking phone away,” he said, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. “I got you something.”

His hand dipped into the bag at his side and pulled out something green and leafy. It looked like flowers, but I couldn’t see any blooms. However, when he handed them to me, I could suddenly see the tiny little buds at the end of some of the stems. “Rose buds for my Rosebud!” he exclaimed happily. “I know you were having a bad day, so I thought—oof!”

His breath left his body when I crashed into him, hugging him around the waist so tightly I thought I might pop him like a balloon. I was embarrassed to feel tears well up in my eyes at the sweet gesture, but the truth was, he had already made my day ten times better just by hanging around. And no boy had ever bought me flowers before. 

“Don’t cry,” he said when he pulled away, giving me a smile and wiping underneath my eye with his thumb. “They were supposed to make you smile.”

“You’re just…” I trailed off, unable to find the words to perfectly describe the boy in front of me. “You are everything,” I decided, pulling him back into my arms, content to just hold him there for a little longer.

He chuckled, his breath stirring the hairs on my head. I felt him squeeze my shoulders, reminding me that this was real and he was here. “Not everything,” he argued softly, “just someone who cares about you.”

~

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

I nodded towards Niamh, who was currently freezing her ass off outside of my apartment. We had met up with my landlord to discuss me not living there when my lease was up. However, every time I thought about giving up my own little apartment, the first big purchase I had made as a working adult...it filled me with dread.

“You know you’re welcome to stay with me for free, Rose,” Lily added. She had found out Niamh planned to accompany me and had invited herself. It wasn’t a problem, since Niamh and Lily got along fairly well, but after Lily’s recent schemes with Violet to get me in to see a counselor, I was a little wary of going through with this while Lily was here. Mostly, I didn’t want her to see me burst into tears and then turn around and make a plan with Violet to kidnap me and take me to the therapist. “You don’t have to give up your place.”

But I did. I hated staying there at night, because I felt an uncomfortable crawling on my skin, like Kent was watching me somewhere. It was irrational of me to feel that way, but it didn’t stop the fear when I was alone at night. “It’s a waste of money,” I replied, and wondered if Lily and Niamh could hear the reluctance in my voice. “Giving it up is smart.”

“You want to at least go inside and start packing some things up?” Niamh asked. I could hear her teeth chattering. It wasn’t particularly cold outside, but Niamh always ran a little chillier than the average person. 

I probably should. While most of my stuff was at Lily’s now, it would still be nice to go in and see what things I still had in my apartment. The pretty jewelry holder my grandmother had given me was there, along with some shoes that I didn’t wear everyday. The orange lamp my mom had given me for my college dorm was sitting on my nightstand, with the cute little pink mosaics on it that I loved. But seeing that stuff would make me sad, especially because I didn’t want to give up that little space yet. 

Just because something was smart and right didn’t mean it was easy.

“No, I’m fine. Let’s just go to lunch.”

They shared a look with each other, but luckily didn’t push. Niamh because she wasn’t that kind of person, and Lily because she still felt bad about the whole Violet thing. 

Niall and Pat were meeting us for lunch, effectively making me the fifth wheel. However, if it meant I got my money, Niall could join us for every meal he wanted to; Pat was fun to have around. Niamh called an Uber to the little deli she often frequented when she was done with work and when the driver pulled up to the restaurant, Niall and Pat were already sitting outside.

“Morning ladies,” Pat said happily, pulling out the chair next to him for Niamh to sit. She leaned over and gave him a quick kiss. Niall had two open seats on either side of him, so I slid into one. “We already ordered your food.”

“You know my order?” I asked Pat, raising my brow. 

“No, but Niall does.”

I gave Niall a surprised look. Sure, he knew my Nando’s order because he usually picked it up for Lily and I, but I assumed he had only committed Lily’s order for the deli to memory. “Thanks, Ni. Did you get your usual roast beef?”

“You know me well,” he said, smiling. “I also got you some orange juice.”

Orange juice was my comfort drink. I liked having it when I was sad or nostalgic. When I gave him another surprised look, he shrugged.

“I know seeing your flat probably made you upset, so I figured you’d want some orange juice.”

Smiling softly, I reached over to give him a one-armed hug. I caught the tail end of a look that Niamh and Pat gave one another, their eyebrows furrowed as if they were trying to figure something out. They did this often; I joked that they were so in-tune with one another that they were of one mind. Before I could ask them what their looks meant, however, the server was setting down our drinks and food. Niall had been correct in my favorite sandwich, a turkey with Swiss cheese and extra oil and vinegar. He had also switched out my fries (or as he called them “chips” and playfully rolled his eyes when I said it wrong) for sweet potato fries, which were another weakness.

“Thanks, Ni,” Lily said when her own food arrived. She gave him a small peck on the cheek and I swore I saw dollar signs flash before my eyes.

There was something else, though. Something ugly that clawed at the front of my chest. I didn’t know what it was, but I’d never felt that way before, especially around Lily and Niall. I took a bite of my sandwich to distract me from it.

“How was the flat?” Niall asked.

I tried not to flinch at the thought of it, but a sour expression must have taken over my face. “It’s fine.”

“Sorry, Rosebud. I know you’re sad about leaving it.”

It was stupid to be getting so worked up over nothing but brick and wood, but I had put my all into making that little apartment feel like home. The canvas art that I had purchased at a little family-owned gallery hung perfectly above the tiny little fire place. Lily’s apartment didn’t have a fireplace for me to hang them over. Then there was the macrame plant holder that I had bought on Etsy that made me smile whenever I woke up to it because the sun from my window was always shining on it when my alarm went off. 

It was the first place that had been all mine. I didn’t mind sharing things with Lily, and I didn’t even mind sharing places with Violet. But that apartment had been Rose Fairbrough’s and no one else’s. 

It felt like I was losing a part of myself. 

Niamh seemed to notice the expression on my face and quickly changed the subject, prattling on about something else to keep the group occupied. I shot her a grateful smile. Freshman-year-me sure got lucky with Niamh as a roommate, and twenty-four-year-old-me was lucky that Niamh still wanted to be my friend. And through Niamh, I had met Pat, who never made me feel like a third-wheel when we all hung out. Though Niall and Lily were my people, Lily was my sister and Niall had been Lily’s best friend first. Niamh and Pat were, like my apartment, my own friends that I had made myself.

“I promised Violet I’d take her home from school and go shopping with her,” Lily said, looking at her phone after we had all finished eating. Her eyes caught mine. “I’m assuming you don’t want to come.”

I think I would rather have thrown myself off a bridge, but I didn’t tell Lily that. “I actually went to coffee with Violet earlier this week, so I’ve filled my quota.”

I felt better about denying this outing with them when Lily’s eyes lit up. “You guys got coffee this week? That’s wonderful!”

“It was fine. No big deal.” I had gotten free coffee out of it and Violet had only talked about the therapist for the first five minutes, so the trip actually hadn’t been as terrible as I had expected. 

“That’s a huge deal,” Lily said, smiling widely. “We’ll have to do another sister night soon.”

Niall covered his laugh with a cough when he caught the look on my face.

Lily said her goodbyes, kissing both mine and Niall’s cheeks before she was off. Niamh and Pat only stayed a couple more minutes before they followed behind Lily. That left Niall and I at the table by ourselves, finishing up our lunches.

“What’s on your agenda for the rest of the day?” he asked, giving me a charming smile. He collected our trash and deposited them into the bin, and I strangely watched his legs move as he did so. 

“Just hanging at the house. You?”

“Meeting with one of my athletes. He’s got an idea for eco-friendly sport equipment and he wants to run it by me.”

My eyebrows raised. “Wow. That’s incredible.”

“Yeah, I’m excited to hear about it. You need a ride home?”

I nodded and he led me to his car, a modest Toyota that he had bought as soon as he got the job at the college. When I slid into the passenger seat, I noticed something hanging from his rearview mirror.

“Hey! You found it!” I said excitedly, leaning forward and touching the tiny butterfly charm.

“Oh yeah, I did. I put it up there this morning to remind me to give it back to you. I like having it there. Makes me feel like you’re watching out for me when I’m driving.” He gently removed it from his rearview and handed it to me with a smile. 

“Thanks. Help me put it on?” I unhooked the clasp and wrapped the two sides around my neck. His fingers on my skin made me shiver, but I filed the reaction away for a time where I could dissect it later. 

He didn’t pull his hands away for several moments. I felt his breath on the back of my neck as one of his fingers softly poked at a spot on my flesh. “Hey,” he said softly, “you have a birthmark here. It’s shaped like a tree.”

“You’ve never noticed?” I asked, trying my best to clear my throat. My voice sounded suddenly throaty, like I had something caught in it. 

He chuckled, pulling away enough to have me feeling like I could breathe again. “I think I learn something new about you every time I see you, Rosebud. It’s impossible to know all of you.” I felt the car engine rumble as he started the car and pulled away from the curb.

“You know me better than most people do.”

“Yeah?” he asked, reaching out and tapping my knee. I found myself smiling at the gesture. It was so...Niall. 

“Yeah.”

And it was true. Niall knew me better than nearly everyone in my life, except Lily. The fact that he knew me better than Violet and my parents was something I held dear to my heart. It was just impossible to not unveil your soul to Niall. He was open and honest and caring. The world needed more people like him.

Too quickly, we were pulling up to the apartment. I wasn’t quite ready to leave, but I knew he had the meeting with his athlete and probably had to get going. “Thanks for finding my necklace.”

“Of course, Rosebud. I know how much it means to you.”

I thought about what he said, about feeling like I was with him when he was driving. Without another second to think about it, I unhooked the rose necklace I had worn to lunch today in my other necklace’s absence. “Here,” I said softly, leaning forward and wrapping it around his rearview mirror. “So I’ll always be with you when you’re driving.”

His finger gently touched the charm, and a slow smile spread across his face. “A rose to help me think of my Rosebud?”

“Always.”

He chuckled, and in a move that surprised me, pulled me over towards him so he could press a kiss to my forehead. “One problem, Rose. I’m always thinking about you. A necklace doesn’t change that.”

[freddiesaysalright]

Just Like a Woman - Part 10

A Roger Taylor x Reader Story

Summary: You and Roger were once in love when you were young. Only, he went on to be a rock star, and you went on to be a lawyer. Now, quite against your will, you’re representing him in his divorce.

Word Count: 4.3k

Tag List:  @psychosupernatural, @someone-get-a-medic, @bensrhapsody, @deakyclicks, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession, @minigranger, @crazyweirdocalledfriday, @the-moving-finger-writes, @assembledherethevolunteers, @rose-writes-prose, @queenlover05, @26-7-49, @drowsebaby, @moon-stars-soul, @im-an-adult-ish, @ixchel-9275, @jennyggggrrr, @zyanmaik, @mypassionfortrash, @a19103, @madeinheavxn, @beepbeephardy, @rrogerchxrm, @qweenly, @blisshemmings, @seasidecrowbar, @internationalkpoplova, @ellystone, @takemetoneverland420, @coffeexcigarette, @lookuptotheskiesandsee, @thatpunkmaximoff, @angelkissys, @rocknroll-stolemyass, @simonedk, @anotheronewritesthedust1, @peterquillzblog, @mrfahrenhcit, @joseph-mozzerella, @theprettyandthereckless, @flick-ofthe-wrist, @johndeaconshands, @rogerandhiscar, @queenmaracasandlove, @sunflower-ben, @cubetriangle, @amy-brooklyn99, @scorpiogemini, @kiainspace, @itsabenthing, @bookandband, @makemeyourwife-loveofmylife, @grazessa, @borhapqueen92, @theonsasheart, @vektorivittu, @chanti-frn, @brianssixpence, @dancingcoolcat, @xviiarez, @irepookie, @lnnuend0, @rogerxmeddows If you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: Okay so I didn’t proofread the smutty part of this I’m sorry but I get lazy, y’know? I hope you still enjoy. Just ignore any typos lol

Warning(s): Smut in this chapter! It’s romantic and stuff ;)

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9

Part 10 here we go!!!

Your jaw dropped as you watched Roger walk up to the stand and take his oath. When had he agreed to testify? And for the defense? Was he really so desperate to have his say that he would undermine the whole case? You shot daggers at him with your eyes.

“Mr. Taylor,” Glen began. “Can you tell us a bit about what your father was like?”

“Objection!” you interjected. “Relevance.”

Judge Walsh gave Glen an annoyed look.

“You’ll see what I’m getting at, your honor,” he said. 

“Speed it up,” Judge Walsh instructed. “Or I will hold that objection sustained.”

Glen looked back at Roger.

“Mr. Taylor, your father was an abusive man, was he not?” Glen asked.

“Yeah, but I don’t see what that has to do with Dominique’s case,” Roger returned, frowning.

“I think it could have everything to do with her case,” Glen retorted. “You and your ex-wife, did you ever fight?”

“Sure we did,” Roger said. “Like any other couple, we had our moments.”

“Ever get physical?” Glen asked.

“What?!” Roger cried.

At the same time you stood up and repeated, “Objection! Move to strike!”

“Overruled,” Judge Walsh said emphatically. “Counsel, you can’t object to questions only because you don’t like them!”

“Your honor, I want it on record that I object to this witness, I object to this line of questioning, and I object to opposing counsel’s being a complete and unmitigated ass!”

“Counsel!” he scolded, banging his gavel. “Sit down and let Mr. Harrington finish! If you raise one more objection today I will hold you in contempt, do you understand me?”

Cheeks red with anger and hatred, you scowled at him. Bill forced you back to your seat. You folded your arms across your chest and once again glared at Roger, hoping he could feel the heat of your rage.

“To answer your question,” Roger began again. “No, any disagreements between Dominique and myself have always been resolved with words.”

“Until you had to bring lawyers in,” Glen remarked.

“That’s not fair,” Roger said. “When it comes to issues of money -”

“And the cheating?” Glen pointed out.

“I cheated,” Roger admitted. “Dominique was faithful until that day she went on this date. But at that point, our marriage was effectively over.”

“You didn’t like that, did you?” Glen asked. “The fact that she had a date?”

“Who would?” Roger replied. “It was a pretty harsh reminder that my marriage was done.”

“Did it make you angry?” Glen pressed.

“Yeah, a bit,” Roger said, rolling his eyes.

You squeezed yours shut. If the jury didn’t think Roger was taking this seriously, it would look bad. You saw where this was going, and you knew it would only make him angrier.

“Angry enough to behave like the late Mr. Taylor?” Glen asked.

Roger stiffened. His jaw clenched. You could hardly look at him. You saw the hurt and fury slowly overtake his body. But he was remaining impressively calm. He took a deep breath and then looked icily at Glen.

“No,” he said.

You could tell how much will power it was taking for him not to spit at Glen in that moment. You felt the same. Angry as you were with Roger for doing this, you hated Glen right now more than his client. He turned and looked at you, a slimy smile on his face.

“Your witness,” he said.

Bill looked at  you questioningly. You composed yourself and nodded, letting him know you had this. You stood up.

“Mr. Taylor, have you ever once put your hands on your wife or any woman?”

“Never,” he said.

“No further questions.”

You sat back down. 

After Roger’s testimony, you were released for lunch. The trial would continue the following day. You and Bill stormed out of the courtroom, each on one side of Dominique. You didn’t bother to wait for Roger, but he jogged up to you anyway. You retreated into a chamber down the corridor.

“I can’t believe you!” you shouted at Roger as you slammed the door behind the group. “I told you yesterday that you aren’t a relevant witness! Why would you agree to testify for the opposing side?!”

“I wanted an opportunity to stand up for Dom, I didn’t know he was going to ask me all that!” Roger shot back.

“Do you realize what you’ve done?!” you cried. “All the jury needs is a little bit of doubt to find him not guilty, and you’ve just given it to them!”

“Oh, please, my alibi is totally secure,” he returned.

“We wouldn’t have to even worry about it if you didn’t get your dumbass on that stand in the first place!” you almost shrieked, completely exasperated. “You’ve hurt us, Roger, you could at least be sorry for it!”

“You’re the one who wouldn’t let me testify on our side!” he yelled. 

“Because I was doing my job, you daft -”

“HEEEEEEY!” Bill bellowed, banging his fist on the table.

You and Roger looked at him.

“Everybody calm the fuck down,” Bill said. “This was a setback, but we still have a strong case. What Glen did in there was a desperate, Hail Mary attempt to throw us off. We still have Dominique’s amazing testimony, Miss Thomas’s, and all the forensics. So both of you just relax, alright?”

You shot another harsh glare toward Roger and then took a seat. The shock of Roger’s testimony left you winded, but you were also terrified. If the jury now had a doubt that Nick was the culprit behind the attack on Dominique, you knew Roger would never forgive himself.

Just then, Glen burst into the room.

“What the fuck was with that witness?” he demanded. “Calling me ugly? Are you just trying to make me look stupid?”

“Hey, don’t you come in here making demands like that after what you did!” you retorted, jumping to your feet again. “You called Roger up just to try and frame him when you know that was rubbish!”

“God, you’re sexy when you’re angry,” he replied, tone softening. “Sure I can’t convince you to ditch blondie and grab a drink with me?”

“Alright!” Roger intervened, stepping closer.

“We are in the middle of a trial,” you said to Glen. “Could you act like a grown up?”

“Believe me, after seeing your legs in that skirt, my thoughts are entirely adult,” he said. “I actually started to get jealous of blondie since he gets to put his face between those gorgeous thighs every night.”

You opened your mouth to tell him that he’d gone too far, but Roger lunged past you, going for Glen. You and Bill each grabbed one of Roger’s arms, yanking him back. 

“Roger!” you cried, incredulous. 

“He crossed a line!” Roger bellowed. He glared fiercely at Glen. “Don’t you EVER talk about her like that!”

“HEY!” Bill interjected again. “Roger, settle down. Glen, get the fuck out.” 

“I still want to know about that witness,” Glen said. 

“She was the one who found Dominique, how could we not call her to the stand?” Bill argued. “Lucy Thomas is just a cold bitch by nature, we can’t help that.”

Roger was still glowering, breath heavy and chest heaving. 

“Alright, I’ll go,” Glen. “But I’m not going to take any more of that nonsense.”

“Oh, but you expect us to tolerate yours?” you retorted. 

“Y/N, that’s enough, we’re not doing this,” Bill said. 

“Bloody ridiculous,” Glen muttered as he swept out of the room. 

The door swung shut behind him. You rounded on Roger. 

“What’s got into you?” you cried. “Are you trying to make this worse?”

“I was defending you!” he argued. 

“OH MY GOD BOTH OF YOU SHUT IT!” Bill interrupted once again. 

All eyes were on him. 

“Emotions are running high right now,” he continued. “I’m going to get some lunch. Y/N, you’ve got the rest of the day off. Roger, do whatever the hell you want.” 

You blinked. “You’re sending me home?”

“Yes,” he said. “You’re riled up and snappish and frankly, I don’t want to talk to you for the rest of the day.”

You flared up, offended, but he stopped you from speaking with a look. Then he turned to Dominique. 

“Dom, can I get you some lunch?” he offered. 

“Throw in a drink, and I’m there,” she said.

She took his arm and they left together. The door snapped closed once again and you looked at Roger. 

“I appreciate you defending me, but after the argument he made in there, you can’t act like that, Rog,” you said, as calmly as you could. Inside, your emotions were swirling around like a hurricane. 

“What I did was human,” Roger replied, voice also steadying. “All I want to do is defend the people I love.”

“Well, don’t,” you said sharply. 

“Fine,” he snapped. “I won’t, then.”

From the look on his face, you knew you’d struck a nerve. Roger had never looked at you with so much disappointment and anger in his eyes. Not even during your worst fights. This was a new level. It made your heart sink. But when he went for the door, you didn’t try to stop him. You watched him go, feeling like a bad lawyer and an even worse girlfriend. 

You walked home from the courthouse. All your frustration was gone by the time you opened the door. You half hoped that Roger would be there and you could both apologize and make up. But he wasn’t. Your flat was as empty as you felt. With a heavy sigh, you set down your work things and went to go change. Only, when you got to your bedroom, you had no energy to do so. You kicked off your shoes, flopped face down on your bed, and let out a sob. You cried yourself into a deep sleep. 

You woke a couple hours later to a knock on your door. Brushing your fingers through your surely mussed up hair, you forced yourself from the bed and went to answer it. You knew who you hoped it was, but you couldn’t be sure Roger would be standing there. You left things so tense. 

To your shock and pleasure, it was him. He looked rather like a dog with his tail between his legs as you opened the door. You felt the same. You had behaved no better, in your opinion. 

“Hey,” he said awkwardly. 

“Hey,” you returned. 

A beat passed. 

“I’m so sorry,” you said in unison, and you both chuckled a little bit. 

“Come inside,” you offered. “We should talk.”

“Definitely,” he agreed. 

He came in and you went to the kitchen. You made some tea and handed it him a cup before sitting down across from him. 

“I’m sorry I testified for them,” he said. “Glen called me and asked me if I’d be willing to tell my side of the story. I had no idea he would go that direction.” 

“You can’t trust opposing counsel,” you said. “Especially the likes of him.”

“Believe me, I’ve learned my lesson,” he conceded. “The last thing I want to do is hurt Dominique’s case, I just…”

“I know you want to protect people, Rog,” you said, reaching over to take his hand. “That’s your natural instinct. And I admire that about you. Few people are as selfless as you are. But you can’t always be the one in the ring, okay?”

“I know,” he said. “And again, I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you,” you returned. “And I’m sorry too. I just got scared because Dom means a lot to me too and I don’t want her to go through all this only to lose.”

“I get it, I feel the same way,” he said. “I think we both forgot ourselves today because we care so much.”

“I told you having me might backfire,” you joked. 

He smiled. Another pause passed between you. 

“About Glen,” he said. “I’m also sorry I exploded like that. But I won’t apologize for defending you, he -”

“No, I agree he crossed a line today,” you cut across him. “That was way too far. Especially since we haven’t….y’know…”

“I know,” he said. “And when he said that today...just talking about you like that - even him thinking of touching you - it made me absolutely mad with rage. Because that connection we had...even back in the day...it was practically sacred to me, Y/N. To hear him say that, and make a mockery of it….I just couldn’t take it.”

You looked down to hide your blush. The sex was that meaningful to you as well, but you never thought he was so sentimental about it. 

“D’you remember when we used to?” he asked. “How you’d look me in the eyes?”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. The memory made heat stir in the pit of your belly. 

“Yeah,” you said, finding the courage at last to look at him. “Of course I do.”

“No one else has ever looked in my eyes, y’know, during,” he said. “I felt like I could….I dunno, see your soul or something. I’ve had sex with plenty of women. But I’ve only really made love to one.”

You were certain your cheeks were redder than cherries at this point.

“Roger, I….” you trailed off. “I don’t know what to say. I had no idea it all meant so much to you. Especially with the way you left.”

He hung his head. “I know. But I hope you believe me.”

“I do,” you assured him. “I just wonder what made you think of all that?”

“Glen’s comments today were a part of it,” he said. “But also, a few weeks ago, you said we couldn’t because my divorce wasn’t final. But, it’s final now, and I’ve been thinking about being with you ever since I signed that paper.”

Your blush impossibly deepened. 

“Plus, seeing you in that courtroom is incredibly sexy,” he added with a laugh. 

You laughed too, relaxing you a bit. 

“I’ve been thinking about it too,” you admitted. “I’m just nervous.”

“Why?” he wondered. “By my memory, we were very good.”

You smiled. “I think I’m just afraid that if we try, then what we had before might not be there. And then what?”

“Y/N, it’s gonna be there,” he said, squeezing your hand. “I love you and you love me. That passion is there. Which is especially clear after today.” He took a deep breath. “But if you’re not ready, we can wait.”

You didn’t reply right away. Honestly, seeing him leap to your defense the way he did had turned you on, though you didn’t want to admit it. And every time he kissed you, you remembered how good it felt to go further with him. But your fear was real. What if it wasn’t the same as it used to be? There was only one way to find out. 

“Roger?”

“Yes, love?”

“Kiss me.”

He almost jumped out of his chair to come around the table to take you up in his arms. He lifted you to your feet and claimed your lips in a tender embrace. He moved slowly, giving you the opportunity to stop him if you wanted. But you wanted the opposite. 

You opened your mouth against his, and he reacted immediately, slipping his tongue between your lips. The kiss was heavy with the pent up desire you had both been feeling. Your mind was fuzzy, like getting drunk, but you were acutely aware of his hands sliding up your sides. His thumbs brushed your ribcage, just barely touching the underside of your breasts. 

You whimpered into his mouth and reached for the buttons of your blazer. He helped you shrug it off your shoulders and it fell to the floor. Beneath, you had just your plain white tank top and pencil skirt. He stopped kissing you to look over your body in the form fitting clothes. You saw the hungry look in his eyes and bit your lip.

Your lips already itched to feel his again. All of your skin was tingling with the desire for his touch. You watched him observe you, chest rising and falling with your deep, desperate breaths. 

When he met your gaze again, you couldn’t contain it anymore. You crashed upon him. Pressing into him to be as close as possible. His arms snaked around your waist to hold you there, his eagerness to be close as evident as yours. Then his hands made their way south and he gripped handfuls of your ass. 

You gasped and let out a husky breath, pushing even further into him. He groaned and you felt his hardness pressing into your lower stomach. You stopped kissing him to catch your breath and reach for the buttons of his shirt. 

“Fuck that,” he panted, and he pulled it over his head while you giggled. 

When his shirt had joined your jacket, you had your turn to admire him. You ran your fingers delicately down his torso. His skin was warm. 

“I guess we should be matching,” you teased, and you tugged your tank top off as well. 

Roger’s eyes on you as you reached back and unclasped your bra had you reeling. That was what you missed about making love to him. No one else had ever desired you so passionately.

With your breasts free, he took direct action. He cupped one in each hand and squeezed gently, massaging them before tweaking each nipple between his fingers. Your head fell back with a groan as the sensation sent more heat straight to your core. He attached his lips to your neck, whispering into your skin.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous, love. God, I’ve missed you.”

You whined in returned, arching your back toward him. He pulled you close again. The heat of his body sent a chill up your spine.

“Wanna move to the bedroom, love?” he asked.

You nodded. He scooped you up and carried you in there as you giggled. You yelped with surprise when he tossed you on the bed and crawled up to join you. The next kisses were fervent and needy. You moaned again.

Roger’s fingers moved down your front and nimbly popped the buttons of your skirt before tugging the zipper down. You did not wear panty hose. You liked the way your legs looked without them, and you knew you could distract an opposing male lawyer if need be. You played dirty too sometimes.

You pushed your thong down your legs as Roger worked off his jeans. He groaned at the sight of you bare before him, sprawled out and breathless from his kisses. You smirked at him with cat like playfulness as you sat up. You gently pulled the waistband of his boxers down, slowly, watching his face as you went. Beads of sweat formed at his hairline from your torturous pace.

“Fuck, baby, I need you,” he sighed.

With a grin, you swiftly removed his boxers, and he kicked them off the bed. Then, you took hold of his hips, rubbing soft little circles into the slightly protruding bones. He hissed with anticipation.

Then, you gave him what he wanted. You licked a stripe up his cock. A loud groan came from his throat. You swirled your tongue around his tip before wrapping your lips around him and taking him down. He let out such a delicious moan your mouth watered around him.

You began with a slow pace. Dragging your mouth forward and back, teasing him. His short, eager breaths egged you on. You saw him trembling trying to maintain control, but after you hollowed out your cheeks and really sucked, his hips jerked forward. You almost gagged, but held back.

“Sorry,” he choked out. “God, it feels so good.”

He buried his fingers in your hair and pulled you off of him. That was typical. Roger preferred not to cum in your mouth, and he refused to finish before you had gotten one or two orgasms of your own. Usually more.

You licked your lips and looked expectantly at him. He took your shoulders and lay you back. Your legs fell open for him. He got onto his knees there, but didn’t settle on top of you. Instead, he kissed you again. He teased your lips with his tongue, and you opened up. He explored your mouth, getting you all hot again, before pulling away. 

He nipped and sucked along your jawbone and down the soft skin of your neck. He trailed across your collarbones, down your chest - briefly stopping to suck on each of your nipples - and then made his way down your stomach. He slowed down the closer he got to your pelvis. Roger was not an explorer trekking out into new territory. He was coming home. He recalled every sensitive spot on your body. What made you moan, sigh, and giggle. He exploited this knowledge to the full extent as he made his way down. It made your whole body light up with excitement and need. Finally, you whined impatiently and pushed your hips up. 

With a cocky chuckle, he took his tongue to your folds. You gasped sharply as your back arched. He wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked lightly, just how you liked it.

“Oh! Roger!” you cried, heels digging into the mattress.

He moaned into you, the vibrations sending an extra thrill all the way up your body. You’d almost forgotten how extraordinarily well he used his tongue and mouth. He was zeroed in on your clit, making you writhe around as you released pathetic whimpers and soft cries of his name.

The pressure was building inside you as he worked your core with his mouth. Your voice raised several octaves and your legs quivered as you hurtled toward the sweet release. When you were on the cusp, he sank a finger into you. You groaned so deeply you felt him smile against you. He curled his finger toward himself, pushing on your g-spot with expert precision. 

“Rog - oh fuck!” you nearly sobbed.

He added a second finger, stretching you just slightly. Your walls clamped down around him as he drove you further toward the edge.

“Please, please,” you begged, panting.

He sped up, knowing just what you needed. Between the flicks of his tongue and the thrusts of his fingers, you were there. Your legs stiffened, your back arched high off the bed, a scream tore from your throat as it hit you. The wave of pleasure crashed over you, and Roger did not relent as you began to come down, shaking with the sensation of it all.

He eased you down, slowing his pace before removing the contact. Your body quivered. He smiled, pleased with himself, and he crawled back over you again to help with the shivering. Hot as you were during, you were always cold after an orgasm, so he held you a moment.

You were panting too hard for him to kiss you properly, so he peppered your face and neck with pecks. When you giggled, he knew you were okay.

His hips settled between your thighs, and you gasped as his cock brushed your entrance. Then you moaned.

“Ready for more, sweetheart?” he asked, running his finger along your jaw.

You nodded. “Please, more.”

You didn’t even worry about sounding pathetic. You could be anything with Roger - strong, weak, pathetic, needy, vulnerable, bitchy, sweet, sexy - all of it. Any side of yourself was accepted and loved by him. 

He rested on his forearms, cupping your face between his hands, and he slid into you. It was like magic. He fit so perfectly inside you - with just enough stretch to make you whimper with need. You both took a moment to revel in being together again. Being completely united. 

You locked eyes. You understood what he meant earlier. Your souls met behind your irises. You had never felt more connected to him. And from the soft look in his eyes, you knew he felt the same.

“I love you so much,” he sighed.

“I love you too,” you returned.

You turned your face and took his finger into your mouth, a weakness of his. His eyes fell closed and his hips rutted forward, deeper into you. You squeaked with surprise and then chuckled, moving to match him.

You fell easily into a rhythm together. It flowed as naturally as the tides. Roger filled you with each thrust, and you climbed slowly together back up to the edge. His name escaped your lips as he rocked into you. Delicate declarations of his love and your beauty swept off his breath. You didn’t hear them, but you felt them.

He sped up and it was like coming out of a fog. Each snap of his hips shook you and you clutched onto his shoulders for dear life. Your moans rose in volume and octave as you found yourself clenching around him again. 

“Oh - Roger - Oh God -”

“I’m so close, baby,” he grunted. “Please, one more for me.”

He removed his hand from its proximity to your face and slid it between your bodies, finding your clit as if it were magnetized. He rubbed tight, fast circles on it, and your vision began to blur. 

The second one hit you harder and more suddenly. White exploded behind your eyes as your walls fluttered around his cock. Roger cried your name once more and spilled into you, slowing down his thrusts as you peaked together. You twitched against him as he guided you back down steadily. He slowed to a stop and watched you panting beneath him.

He inched himself out of you. You still winced at the feeling. Once he was able, he rolled off you and you crawled into his arms. You needed his warmth.

“Mmm, Rog,” you hummed, pulling him closer.

“Good?” he asked.

“Incredible,” you replied.

“I don’t wanna speak too soon, but I think we’ve still got it,” he teased.

You smiled lazily. “We do.”

“What do you need now, love?”

“Sleep,” you said through a yawn.

He chuckled. “Of course you do.”

He kissed your forehead and you both drifted off. All worries about your relationship and the trial were forgotten. For now, you could just be.

[simpingforthisonedeer]

Chapter 9: Tempestuous II

Summary: Julius finds Aika in the Wizard King's study; One of the important reasons for Aika's hesitance is discovered; And there's a five-leaf grimoire👀👀

Notes: 

- completely SFW

- 4k words, a relatively short read compared to my other chapters agfdsghfjhl. - There are also more clues as to what Julius is and I give you one letter. If you figure it out from just that, I will legitimately shit myself. - I introduce an original character who is Marx's older brother and like all side characters, he is important.

- Be sure to check the notes at the end and enjoy (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

Aika sat down on her most favourite sofa in the Wizard King’s study with a sigh and a cup of tea. She had just finished tearing down all the talisman stuck to the shelves and walls that prevented anyone from detecting the room and noticing the door from the actual office which was also covered by a painting. She had her personal books in a few dozen stacks around her, ready to be shoved into her backpack but she decided to take a small break.

She could faintly hear the muffled discussion on the other side of the wall of Julius apologizing profusely to someone named “Marx.” Aika had recently confirmed it was Marx Francois, Julius’ advisor and attendant. He may not know her, but Aika knew him well enough. His older brother, Karl Francois, is the president of her company and a close friend of hers and he would sometimes tell her about his brother.

Aika sighed contentedly into her cup. She should have tea with him sometime, especially since she doesn't have her amulet to walk around the castle without scrutiny. She did vaguely remember Karl mentioning that Marx liked black tea.

She turned to the door leading to the office curiously when all became quiet. She heard a door swing shut and some sound of shuffling on the other side of the wall and the door in front of her slammed open.

“Aika!” The invader exclaimed. Her heart jumped when she realized owner of the voice.

“Julius,” she greeted cordially. “I suppose Master Raymond told you about the hidden study?”

He rubbed the back of his head.

“Well, not really. I asked him where I could find you. That’s when he told me about the study.”

She hummed in response. So, he was thinking about her.

“Good. Would you like a cup of tea while you tell me how the banquet went?” She asked politely as she patted the sofa next to her.

“No, no, no,” he shook his head as he strode to where she sat. “You are going to answer my questions.” He plopped down next to her a respectable distance away but still too close. She expected him to sit on the other end of the sofa, not directly next to her. She calmed herself as she served him tea.

“First of all, why are you wearing that?” Julius asked, pointing in the general direction of her face. Aika turned to him curiously as she handed him the tea.

“The wha—Oh.” Right, she was wearing a silk blindfold. Sometimes her eyes hurt and become sensitive to light because she had them open for too long. She used Mana Zone often and completely forgot. She couldn’t properly work in this state but it did allow her to organize her thoughts and meditate.

“My eyes hurt,” she answered simply. 

“But you are moving like you can see…” he murmured to himself. “Are you using Mana Zone? I heard that most blind people are quite adept at using it to do their day-to-day tasks.”

Oh, Aika knew that very well. She was blind for a year when she was around 20 and had practically used Mana Zone every waking moment. Due to the ritual she did that made her blind, she had also gained a weak form of clairvoyance, so she could still perceive things around her as if it were normal when she combined it with Mana Zone. The only downsides were that she couldn’t see color.

“Yes,” she answered, wincing internally at the cold tone. While she wanted to keep him at an arm’s length, she didn’t want to seem rude.

“I see, I see,” he nodded to himself, thankfully unfazed. “Tell me more about your company!”

“Well,” she began as she crossed her legs and slipped off her blindfold.

When Aika turned to him, his breath caught. In the dim firelight of the study, her eyes still seemed to glow on their own. His vision seemed to grow sharper and he could count every speck in her eye. He felt his mouth go dry. Oh, there was nothing Julius wanted more than to be held by her again.

She regarded him with a puzzled expression.

“Are you alright?”

“Y-Yes, Aika. I’m fine.” He looked away as he took a rejuvenating sip of tea.

“Okay, so, I started my company as a means to gather intelligence and sell it. We have agents called Eyes & Ears and they basically gather vital information about any and everything and a lot of times it includes spy work. So we also do private investigations and some mercenary work. But that seemed too limiting, so I expanded my horizons into research and education. My R&D department creates magic items and medical practices that would support their local communities and every few years, they collaborate on department-wide projects that are for the benefit of all.” Aika smiled, amused at the way he hung on to her every word.

“We have intensive job training programs of all kinds and we even started a healthcare program a few years ago for our employees but my biggest project right now is to actually make that sort of healthcare public because it's very affordable and our employees have been a big fan of it. But it’s hard because of different countries' laws so I have to go make a lot of appeals with certain Kings and Queens.”

He leaned forward, genuinely interested.

“How do you keep it affordable? Is there a way you could implement that kind of healthcare here in the forsaken realm?”

“Well, we have an exploration department that has multiple guilds across the world in countries where dungeon-diving by private citizens is allowed and taxes are relatively forgiving. This is where we sometimes get most of our revenue. But of course, we also have investors—Arthur is one—and so we try to provide the best services to both our employees and clients.” She touched her chin thoughtfully. “Well, we could institute our kind of hospitals but Clover Kingdom isn’t lacking in healing mages. We mainly use medical practices and technology because the areas we are targeting are places with weak or no magic and have no way to afford or access.”

“So, perhaps we should rearrange the concentration of healing mages in the common and noble realm then.”

“Yeah, well, healing mages are quite rare even in a magic-rich country like Clover Kingdom. It’s also a big problem that everyone here are magic dependent. This kingdom is quite behind on technology, innovation, medical practices and knowledge compared to the rest of the world. And to top it all off, Clover Kingdom maintains no foreign relations outside of the continent so there is no flow of information in. We would have to educate a lot of people in potion-making and using magical items and mundane tools to heal or treat ailments but like I said, Clover Kingdom is behind on education,” Aika ranted as she frowned. She caught the intrigued look on Julius’s face and pressed a gloved hand to her forehead as she apologized.

“Sorry, I meant no offense—”

“No, no, I’m not offended at all,” He said, waving her off. “I’ve simply never considered that point of view.” He gave her a wry smile. “And what you do seems really cool. Though, it sounds like a lot of work.”

She smiled faintly as she set her cup down and leaned her head back against the sofa. She needed to calm down and stop.

“It is, but I have a lot of time on my hands.”

Julius snorted.

“I’m sure you do,” he retorted softly as mirrored her and rested his head right next to hers.

“It’s fulfilling work too,” she said lowly. He hummed in response.

“Master Raymond told me you used to use this study as your office space but now you’re leaving,” he remarked as he looked around.

“Uncle Ray isn’t the studious type but I could tell you are. You would certainly want to use this space.”

“I would,” he admitted, turning his head to face her. “but you don’t have to leave.”

Aika peered at him from the corner of her eye.

“We could both use this space, Aika.”

“Julius…”

“You have really good advice and a different perspective that could be helpful in the future. I’d like to keep you close.”

“You already have an actual advisor. I’m just a consultant.” 

“Marx? He sees my vision, he understands it but he is a conformist, you are not.”

“Julius,” she began as she sat up. “I’m really flattered but I cannot move as freely around the castle anymore. No one here knows I exist.” And if he insisted on spending some time around her everyday, it could be disastrous.

“What do you mean?”

“My Amulet of Ignorance broke during battle and I like to be private. No one in this castle knows me and even if they did, they forgot.”

“You had an Amulet of Ignorance? Those are pretty rare!” Julius exclaimed, his eyes blown wide. She paused when she caught his gaze. Even though violet was a common color for eyes, she realized that his were the most beautiful ones she had ever seen. She realized she wanted a repeat of earlier today when he leaned into her touch and his lashes fanned his cheeks as he sighed with a serene smile.

“I know, and really expensive too.” Aika stood up abruptly and walked to the long desk facing the windows. She caught the purple light of the Wisteria trees sifting through the window panes and focused on clearing her mind. The more she looked at him, listened to him, the more painful it was. Because she wanted to be near him more than anything, but she couldn’t.

She needed to get out.

“It’s the terrifying ordeal of being known.” He laid an arm on her shoulder and she stiffened instinctively. His touch both burned and soothed her. “I completely understand, but don’t you think it’s time to step into the light and get credit for what you do? Like that spell you did on the battlefield?”

“No,” Aika asserted cooly as she shrugged his hand off. “I’m not looking for credit or glory.” 

Once upon a time, she sought glory, but it only left her shoulders heavy with medals and her chest hollow. She was tempted to let the scars stay too as a reminder that glory is empty but she decided to be kinder on herself so she could move on.

If someone gave her credit, great. If not, that’s also fine.

“But don’t you get tired of hiding?”

Yes, but if she had to deal with people more, that would be dangerous for everyone. It was better to be ignored and forgotten than to turn people into hateful creatures.

“What do you mean ‘turn people into hateful creatures?’” Julius asked curiously, he voice steeped in concern.

Aika whipped around. Did she seriously say that out loud? No. He was using Truth Magic. How dare he?

“You should know better than to use Truth Magic when you are trying to have a genuine conversation, Julius .” She stated deliberately, her mana rising around her.

“It’s hard to have a genuine conversation when the other person insists on hiding,” he retorted swiftly as his face turned to ice, masking his surprise at how she had caught on.

She snapped.

“It’s because I don’t want to publicize the fact that I exude so much negative mana that it turns people evil, okay?!” 

She pushed past him.

“Please.” Julius caught her by her forearms and swiveled her around to face him. The words caught in his throat at the sheer vulnerability on her face. “Please, I don’t want to ruin you,” she breathed, her voice cracking. Aika clenched her jaw as she held her tears at bay. “You are so good,” she lifted her gaze to meet his’. “So pure.”

Her words sent shivers up his spine as he carefully regarded her. Did she somehow know? No, that can't be, or she would have never insisted on maintaining distance.  Weg magic doesn’t affect him. That was the plain and simple truth. It was why he was so curious about it in the first place. He knew why it doesn’t affect him, but the world didn’t need to know.

Julius watched the way her lower lip trembled, eyes glassy with unshed tears and yearning as plain as day.

He needed to reassure her while keeping his secret.

“You think so little of me that I would be affected by it?” He murmured with a light tone.

“You think so little of my knowledge of my own condition that I wouldn’t know who it affects and who it doesn’t?” Aika snapped weakly. “Strength does not matter. It only doesn’t affect other forbidden magic users and certain species of non-humans.”

Non-humans. The words kept ringing in his head. 

Non-human. Non-human. Not-human.

“Your mother died so your half-breed arse could live!” His drunken father screamed as a glass shattered next to his head, shards pricking his scalp and cheek. 

“Don’t ever dare insinuate that your mother never loved you,” his voice came in a dangerous whisper. “You disgusting little N—”

 “Julius?”

He blinked quickly as he sought his bearings. His hands were clenching on her arms so tightly, he was sure Aika was in pain. He could feel sweat rolling down his cheeks. Or was it tears?

“Sorry,” he murmured as he blinked again, this time clearing his head.

No, he was human. And he was going to save all the humans in Clover Kingdom and bring them peace.

He rubbed her arms lightly as he healed her and slid his hands up to her shoulders.

“It won’t affect me,” Julius said plainly as his lips quirked up into a hesitant smile.

She looked at him dubiously. She just said that only— Oh. Is that how it is?  

“Why?” she asked as she sniffled, not expecting the truth.

“It’s simply the nature of my magic,” he answered vaguely. 

That could mean either thing but he could simply be saying that just because. Why does he keep on insisting? She was really not playing hard to get.

“Julius, that isn’t going to convince me. It has real effects. Why are you trying so hard when I am pushing you away?”

His eyes softened as he smiled in amusement.

“Is it so hard to believe that I might like you?”

“Yes?” She asked as if it was obvious. “I was literally rude to you on so many occasions.”

“I’m used to prickly characters.” He rebuffed with a wink.

Her shoulders relaxed slightly as she let out an embarrassing snort. She hung her head to hide the growing smile on her face.

“That doesn’t mean you should tolerate it,” Aika murmured half-heartedly. 

Julius laughed.

“Maybe not,” he murmured as he pulled her into a hug. Her face pressed up against the fur of his cape, tickling her nose as her hands hovered hesitantly around his waist. 

“But I’m very patient.”

After a moment of deliberation, she wrapped her arms around him and nestled into his chest. She will allow herself this one moment. 

Julius made a noise of contentment at the back of his throat as he pressed his cheek to her hair.

“Does this mean you’ll give me a chance?” he asked hopefully.

Aika pulled back and looked up at him with a deadpan look.

“No, there is still a lot you don’t know about me.”

“But, I want to learn—”

She shook her head and looked away.

“You don’t understand. The reason why I’m not convinced is because—” Should she even tell him? It might be a little too much. It was the reason why she was so scared and cautious about the effects her magic has on people.

“Because what?”

Ah, screw it.

“Because after Holly spent a week with me, she clawed Arthur’s face off and tore off my right arm,” she whispered under her breath.

“What? ” So that was the reason why she was so apprehensive. That...was actually understandable.

“She got irritable after 3 days and her behaviour kept escalating until she was outright hostile...She doesn’t remember of course. We had her memory erased after we restrained her,” Aika explained as stepped away from him, exhaustion sufusing through her. But Julius stopped her and took her gloved hands in his.

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” he spoke softly as he squeezed her hand. What happened to her was horrible. “You don’t have to keep away from people, least of all me.” He straightened his shoulders, his eyes determined. “I am telling you with utmost confidence that it won’t affect me.”

One part of her was tempted to refuse anyway but his insistence made her curious. Is it bullheaded confidence or was he truly something else like Arthur pointed out or was his interest in weg magic not so innocent after all?

As she weighed the pros and cons, the more curious she got. Aika really wanted to know what the deal with Julius was, and if worst comes to worst, well, Karl Francois was an expert memory mage. She could erase her existence and it will be like this all never happened.

“Fine.”

Julius lit up at her response.

“I will give you one month time to prove that it truly won’t affect you.”

One month was a reasonable enough time for them to notice any effects. He most likely won’t spend all his time with her like Holly did and he will probably use mana skin to protect himself. And only then will she think about it.

“Thank you!” He exclaimed before he engulfed her into another hug. She could feel the relief coursing through him as he smiled into the crook of her neck. She shivered at the feel of his lips and nose and the way his lashes fluttered against her pulse.

Julius gently cradled her face as he pulled back and Aika melted in his hold despite herself. She could allow herself to be if he truly didn’t turn on her. He brushed her cheek with his thumb, making her look up at him. His eyes were like the darkest part of the sunset where the stars shone and the birds flew. She wanted him to keep looking at her like that. 

He angled his face as he slowly closed his eyes and Aika was mesmerized yet conflicted.

She wouldn’t be able to stop if his lips touched hers.

“Julius, stop,” she wanted to say but the words were stuck in her throat. She could feel herself giving into the feeling, the falling sensation as it swept through her. His touch burned with something she couldn’t describe but it set her free. Clarity flooded her senses, washing away her fatigue. Perhaps it was time to seek the light again.

Aika, no, stop, wait, wait, wait.

“Miss Aika!” Jayce crowed as the double doors from the main hallway to the study flew open. “We found a five-leaf grim—” Ellie, Evan and Jayce took three steps into the room before they halted to a stop at the scene in front of them.

The Wizard King and their boss, pressed up against each other, hair's-breadth away from a kiss.

Jayce slapped a hand over his mouth.

Ellie grabbed onto his and Evan’s collar as they scrambled backwards. She quickly shut the door as she threw an apologetic look at Aika’s burning face who disentangled herself from the king’s arms.

The room echoed with a bang and silence followed. 

Julius burst out laughing as he rubbed the back of his head.

“That was embarrassing!”

“Very,” Aika groaned into her hands. He took her hands once again and pulled her close. “You should go finish your paperwork. I have to talk to them about their mission,” she sighed as Julius placed kisses on her knuckles. She withdrew her hands as she took a step back, her heart twinging at the hurt glimmering in his eyes once again.

“I’d like for us to be friends in the meantime.”

“Do you truly like me?” Julius asked suddenly. Aika was taken aback by that.

“What do you mean? Of course I do.”

“Because, like you said, are you keeping your distance because you are trying to let me down slowly?”

Anger shot up her spine. In a second, she was a hair’s-breadth away once again, face cocked to the side. Julius parted his lips, half-surprised, half-expectant but she only stayed agonizingly close.

“Are you insinuating that I am lying to you about my reasons?” Her voice came lowly.

“No, but—”

“Good, so as long as we can conclusively say that I can’t affect you, I will keep my distance.” He blushed at her heated look. “Because even I cannot resist temptation itself.”

Julius took a stuttered breath as he stepped back this time. Oh, god.

“Understood.” He cleared his throat as Aika suppressed a smile. “I will, ah,” he motioned vaguely at the door behind him. “Go do my paperwork.”

As if.

He walked away to the door and looked back one last time. She had her arms crossed as she worried her lower lip.

“Goodnight.” She waved with a reassuring smile. He echoed her as the corner of his lip quirked up. 

He could be patient.

The door clicked shut and the world grew quiet in Aika's head for one still moment...Before adrenaline rushed through her veins, buckling her knees and knocking the air out of her.

Holy shit.

That interaction had taken more out of her than anything. It’s been years since she had any complex, romantic interactions and god, the yearning was exhausting.

Aika stumbled over to the cold tea on the low table in front of the sofas and picked up the cup as she took deep, slow breaths. She waved her hand over it and rewound time to make it warmer. She took a big sip as her heart finally began to calm down. She silently padded over to the main doors and swiftly pired one open. 

Surprisingly enough, the three were not listening in. They were instead gathered in a small circle, talking in low voices.

“This bird had some nerve yanking my hair,” Ellie growled.

“What’s going on?”

Evan and Jayce moved out of the way when they heard Aika, revealing a little anti-bird with an impossibly bored expression resting on Ellie’s cupped hand. She raised a brow at that. The three of them are fairly powerful mages, with Ellie and Jayce being stage 2 while Evan was an arcane stage. So, why was an anti-bird so comfortable in their presence?

“This anti-bird kept following us from Hage, miss,” Jayce groused as he poked it on its head. She walked closer so she could inspect it. She reached out a hand but it evaded her as it flew up and perched on Evan’s head.

“You are weakened but you still have more mana than us?” Ellie asked incredulously.

Aika shook her head and waved them in. She settled back down on the couch as she crossed her legs imperiously. She watched in mild amusement while they carefully inspected the room like the Wizard King was going to pop out from somewhere. She stared down Jayce as he held back a blush, no doubt about the scene earlier, but he shook his head, reassuring her that he wouldn’t say anything. But, she knew that they would thoroughly interrogate her after they were done.

They soon lined up in front of her, backs straight and eyes sharp as they pressed a hand over their hearts and bowed low in a salute as protocol required before they could report to her. While she understood the need for ceremony, they were personally close to her so she had asked them to skip it in the past, but they insisted anyway, saying that it made them feel more like grown-ups.

Ellie was the first to speak up.

“We spent some time inspecting the abandoned cottage like you asked us to.”

“And we have some good news, strange news, and stranger news,” Jayce continued after her.

Aika threw back the last sip of tea and stared at the tea leaves at the bottom of the cup as she half-heartedly attempted to divine from them.

“What is the good news?”

“The good news is that Master Raymond and Lady Lydia had successfully moved into your home without any issues, though they did talk of maybe doing renovations.”

“Good.” She set her cup down with a ‘clink.’ “The strange news?” She breathed out as she reclined, resting her temple against the palm of her hand while she leaned on her elbow.

“Master Raymond wanted us to give you a letter from one Arian Silva, which is supposedly an invitation to tea tomorrow if your schedule allows it.”

Jayce handed her a wax-sealed letter. She noted that the seal was red, meaning that it was a formal letter, which was just the usual.

Aika flicked the seal open and skimmed the letter. It was indeed an invitation to tea and he simply wanted to speak to her about that day on the battlefield. 

Yes, quite simple. She thought as a headache began to grow.

“And the stranger news?” She asked, her eyes still wearily glued to the paper in her hand. She looked up curiously when no one said anything.

The anti-bird on Evan’s head seemed to glare daggers at her as he sifted through his cloak. He whipped out a small potato sack and emptied out its contents onto the table between them.

It was a musty, decrepit-looking grimoire, dark in color with no discernable symbol on the cover. She picked it up and immediately felt something off about it.

“We investigated the abandoned cottage and we believe it may be at most 5 years since anyone had occupied it and you were right, there were traces of a lot of forbidden magic,” Evan confirmed.

Aika wiped the cover where she knew a symbol would be and her jaw nearly dropped at the abnormal clover formation.

“We believe we found a five-leafed grimoire.”

Notes:  

- Yes, I think I'm funny naming Marx's older brother "Karl" LMAOOOO His name was actually supposed to be "Anwir" so make what you will of it👀 - That lil tidbit of Aika being blind for a year and being sensitive to light is important to remember👀

- That is sweat rolling down his cheeks lmaooo I’m not going to make him cry(yet) - Homegirl manifested a whole intervention LMAOOOOO - Nero doesn't avoid Aika bc she has any mana, no, she's avoiding Aika bc she can feel the forbidden magic coming off of her and knows that Aika will find out Nero is human the moment she touches her.

[purplesurveys]

1125

survey by nadine07

[..Introductions..]

First Name: Robyn.

Middle Name: I don’t think I’ve shared it on here and I doubt I will.

Last Name: Not providing it either but it starts with a C.

Birthdate: April 21st.

[..First Things First..]

What was the first thing you did after you got up? I rushed to the rooftop so that I could see the sunrise. I also got in the random mood to do a time-lapse of it, but the sun took forrrrrrrr-freaking-ever to come up entirely. I was holding up my phone for like 15 minutes and nothing was happening, so I quit halfway through lol.

What was the name of your first pet? Goldie, because it was a goldfish.

Who was your first big crush? Gabie, I would say.

Where was the first place you drove after you got your license? Chelsea’s 18th birthday dinner was scheduled right after I happened to get my license, and the event took place in a small, quaint little restaurant in Marikina. 

There’s a bit of a funny story here, too – Aaron needed a ride to get there and so I offered to drive him. I picked him up and we were having small talk in the car, and he asked me how long I’ve been driving. I told him that moment was my literal first time driving out and that I just got my license the day before, and he is my first-ever passenger (at that point I’ve never even tried driving solo yet). The horror and immediate distrust on his face was something I will never forget HAHAHA. We got to the place unharmed, but it’s still one of my favorite stories to tell.

Who was your very first friend? It was a kind girl named Kaye back in kindergarten. We were always next to each other in our class lists, so it was inevitable for us to befriend one another. She transferred schools in first grade and I have not seen nor heard from her since.

What was the first thing you ate today? I had another bag of salted egg chips. I’m extremely hooked, lmao.

What was your first job? I work as an associate at a PR agency.

[..Colors..]

Name something red in the room you are in: We have an unopened bottle of wine here on the dining table and there’s still a red ribbon wrapped around it.

Is orange one of your school's team colors? No, neither of my schools had orange as one of its colors.

How many yellow shirts do you own? I can think of 5 tops hanging out in my wardrobe at the moment. Two of them are class shirts from high school; the others were tops I bought when I started getting into mustard yellow.

Name someone you know who drives a green car: I believe Angel, a classmate from high school who also studies in UP, also drives a Mitsubishi Mirage, albeit a lime green one.

Is it a blue sky outside right now? Yes for the most part, but the sun is setting soon so the sky is bound to change into many pretty colors as it usually does at this time of the day.

What is the first thing that pops into your head when I say 'purple'? Barney the dinosaur, and ube.

Are the walls in the room you're in white? Yes, all our walls indoors are white.

Does black make you think of depressing things? Not always, but if used specifically in that context, it definitely helps boosts the mood.

Jewelry: gold or silver? Silverrr, always.

[..Phone Stuff..]

Who is your provider? Nothing you would be familiar with, but I use Globe.

How long have you had your current phone? It’ll be three years this year. It would be nice to upgrade, but I’m also still happy with my current phone so it doesn’t really matter to me.

What did your last text say? The last one that came through that didn’t come from my mobile services provider was from someone in the media. It was his birthday last Friday and I messaged him if he’d like to receive a gift from us, on behalf of one of our clients; he just replied with his confirmation and details.

If you woke up naked next to the last person to call, would it be awkward? Yep and I’d feel like throwing up almost immediately.

Was your last missed call male or female? It was from my mom.

Who is your 10th phone contact? It’s from Jum, who I realize is still listed as Ate Jum on my phone. That’s cute hahaha; I must have gotten her number when we weren’t super close yet. Anyway, she’s been super MIA for like the last two years...basically, ever since she graduated. I believe she has also since moved back to Bicol, so it’s become virtually impossible to see her again. Bums me out and I look forward to the day we somehow end up in the same room once again.

How did you meet them? I met her in my very first journalism major class. I had mixed feelings towards her at first since I found her to be super loud in class, and I initially thought she would only be a one-time classmate and nothing more; but I got to know her more and we even ended up as orgmates, and it turns out she is literally the most hilarious person I know.

Are you related to your 17th phone contact? I have absolutely no clue who it is. I no longer remember what led to it, but Gabie and I swapped the SIM cards in our phones at one point, and for some reason it made me have access to her contacts; the 17th contact on my phone is someone from her list. And since I never hang out in my Contacts app, I’ve never gotten around to deleting those extra numbers I received.

How long have you known your 1st phone contact? Around 6th or 7th grade. I can’t remember the exact grade level she transferred to my school as a new student.

When was the last time you saw them? It’s been at least a year. I remember seeing her on campus very briefly when I was on my way to a certain building for class, while she was walking out of it.

Who is your 4th phone contact? LMAO, again, it’s from her contact list. Said person is one of her older cousins, I believe.

Have you ever kissed that person? No, and that is very weird and uncomfortable to think about.

When was the last time someone drunk dialed/texted/left a voicemail? Andi drunk messaged me a few months ago. November, I think.

[..Friends..]

Who is your #1? No Myspace but I’d say my top best friend is Angela.

How long have you known them? It will be 16 years this year.

Have you ever kissed? Oh my gosh, hell no. It would be like kissing a sister haha. She’s super affectionate and will sometimes kiss my shoulder or cheek, though.

Are you dating this person? No, never did and never desired to.

Do you have nicknames for each other? Not really exclusive to each other, but I call her Anj (and only a few people call her so) and she will occasionally call me Reben or Rolayn, both from past inside jokes.

What is your #2's full name? I am not sharing that, but I refer to them as Andi (you may remember them as Andrew from the past times I’ve mentioned them).

Do they live within 20 minutes of you? If there is zero traffic, I can probably make it to their place within that timeframe, yeah. But realistically, no they don’t.

How did you meet? We initially met in an anti-Marcos protest/rally – I approached they first because they had a wrestling shirt on, heheh – and that’s when I learned we were from the same college. But they rubbed me off the wrong way from our first meeting as they were too extroverted for my liking, and I spent a good chunk of time ignoring him whenever we crossed paths, lmfao. Eventually we were put in the same class at some point, and they even joined my org, and an intensely close friendship started from there.

Could you live with this person? Sure. I think they would never be a boring roommate.

Who is your #3? I’m gonna go with Kate for this one.

Where are they right now? I have no idea. We don’t really catch up with each other’s lives on a regular basis; we have a very chill, low-maintenance friendship.

When is this person's birthday? January 1st.

Has this person ever seen you naked? I don’t think so.

What is your #4's full name? I don’t think I have a 4th-tier best friend haha, but I’m gonna pick Tina.

When did you last see them? Last year, on the last normal day I was able to be on campus. She was set to present one of her projects at a journalism conference that was taking place in campus that day, but I was able to hang out with her for a short time before the event.

Have they ever dated one of your other friends? No. I knew she had a crush on someone from the college, though.

Do you know their favorite movie? I’m not sure about her favorite movie but I do know she loves Adam Sandler. I was never able to figure out if her interest was ironic or genuine but yeah, she enjoys a good number of his works.

[..Randomosity..]

What time is it? 6:20 PM.

Are you supposed to be doing something other than this? I wouldn’t say so. I do have deliverables for work but since it’s the weekend, I’m not thinking about them nor do I have the desire to touch those tasks until Monday.

Do you live on your own or with your parents? I live with my family. Considering my monthly income, it’d be close to impossible to sustain myself in my own place this early in my adult life.

Are you more of a cat or a dog person? Dog, for sure.

Are you allergic to anything? I don’t believe so.

Does your shirt have anything written on it? Yeah, it says “UP Fighting Maroons” styled in a varsity font since that’s the term for our sports team.

Have you ever tie-dyed something? I have, but only back in like Grade 6 when we had to do it for a home ec class. I remember wanting to buy a tie-dye set recently so I could revisit the activity, but I never got around to it.

Who can you always count on to cheer you up? Angela for the most part; but I also don’t want to be too reliant on my friends in this way. Sometimes I simply allow myself to be sad or upset, and sometimes I count on myself to cheer up.

How many places have you been today? I have been nowhere but at home today lol. I’ll be going to BGC tomorrow to have lunch with my godfather and my cousins, though.

Are you a forgiving person? No.

When was the last time you felt let down? Last night when I read the news that the government will be making All Souls’ Day, Christmas Eve, and New Year’s Eve working days this year. I already know I’ll be half-assing my way through those days lmao because whyyyyyyy the fuck would you make people work on family-centric holidays such as those

What is the title of the nearest book to you? There are no books here at the rooftop.

Are you wearing anything that belongs to someone else? Nope.

Can you whistle? Only through my lips. I can’t do the kind of whistle where you put your fingers in your mouth as well.

Do you look more like your mother or your father? My mom.

Are you still in high school? I’m well past that chapter.

Are you the oldest, middle, youngest, or an only child? I’m the eldest.

Has anyone ever told you that you talk in your sleep? No, because I don’t.

How many people have you kissed this year? None.

Is there anyone of the opposite sex you trust fully? Hmm, no one comes to mind.

Are you a night owl or an early bird? More of a night owl.

If you could have an exotic pet, what would it be? No thanks. I’ve never had the desire to have one.

Would you rather go to Brazil for the weekend or Finland for a month? I’d have to go with Finland. I feel like the cultural differences would be a lot more marked, plus the vacation is longer so that is an instant win for me.

[..And Finally..]

Where did you go the last time you drove somewhere? I was driving to the local coffee shop to spend some time with myself, and do a liiiiiiiittle bit of work as well.

Where did you last go out to eat at? Ramen Nagi. I was initially hesitant to show up there and ask for a table for one on a Sunday evening...but it turned out to feel incredibly empowering and freeing. It was definitely awkward at first, but it got a lot easier once I realized literally no one gives a fuck. Or if they did, they didn’t do anything about it and let me mind my own business. That evening was a crucial step in reclaiming my happiness, so I’m glad I made the choice to suck it up and enter the restaurant.

When was the last time you let someone borrow something from you? Last week, when Angela needed our abaca mat as an aesthetic for her grad shoot.

Was your last breakup a bad one? Yes.

What was the last song you listened to? Just checked my Spotify and the current song I have on pause is Descansos by Hayley Williams. 

What was the last movie you watched? Midsommar.

Did your last kiss happen in a public place? Not technically, but it did take place outside of my house so we were outdoors for some neighbors to see.

How did you meet the last person to leave you a comment? It was Andi, and I already explained how we met earlier in this survey.

[alchemabotana]

Shamanic Identity

Today I’m taking the time to write this post about something so personal and dear to my heart: Shamanic Identity.

You’ve probably seen it too: people with no right to the word Shaman using it liberally to describe the work they do. I’ve written several other posts about shamanism, its history, and my personal practice here on this blog, but that’s not exactly what I’m writing about today.

The word “appropriation” doesn’t begin to cover this topic, although it is a word that applies to the concepts I’m addressing. The concept of Shamanic Identity is actually not a complicated one at all: a Shaman is an intermediary between the Spirit World and the Physical World, between the multiverse and dimensional realities that are unseen and the seen world. These people do so by simply existing and taking up space. There are Shamanic Practices, Shamanic Techniques, Shamanic Ceremonies, and Shamanic Rituals, but that’s NOT Shamanic Identity. These things are simply words and labels we’ve developed as Shamans to describe categories of actions that we take in the world, not our Identity.

For example, if I stopped offering healings, making medicine pieces or altars, performing rituals or ceremonies... I would still be a Shaman, because that’s who I was born to be. I know Shamans who drive trucks for a living, are maids, trash collectors, incarcerated, or in a mental hospital: but they’re still Shamans. They don’t need to take a special class, tell you their genetic lineage, or practice a specific modality to be a Shaman.

So what has created the Shamanic Identity crisis that is so widespread in this current age? What it boils down to is The Cultural Iceburg. 

The Cultural Iceburg is the concept that what we see when interacting with an individual is not all there is. When people think of Shamanism they associate it with our Customs, Language, and Music. But they mistakenly ignore Values, Priorities, Assumptions, Body Language, Stories, Manners, and Space/Time Concepts of our LIVED EXPERIENCE.

This is why it’s so easy for someone to put on the headdress, get a rattle or drum, and start claiming that they are a Shaman. Why do these people do this? Primarily to gain a position in some social group or setting they’d like to belong to (usually not the cultural group they are appropriating from, but others in their racial/social/socioeconomic/class structure). These individuals are also highly motivated by FINANCIAL GAIN.

I want to take some time to talk about financial gain and Shamanism. I’ll be frank, I don’t know any rich Shamans. I don’t know any Shamans who feel completely comfortable charging a fair price for their services, and I know a lot of Shamans who have gone hungry and homeless because they don’t feel right about charging money. That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t pay a Shaman the fair price for their work (services or goods). Just as you would pay someone a fair living wage for hours worked, you ought to pay a Shaman for their work. It’s that simple.

But there are many clear examples, unfortunately many of them in my hometown community, of people taking Shaman Schools or Shaman Certifications or Shaman Classes (usually online - not that there aren’t authentic shamanic online courses) in order to claim that they are a Shaman or to show “proof” that they are “qualified” to be a Shaman. I ran into this when a local hospital approached me about coming on board as a Shaman in their clergy. It became very obvious that their department had no real clue what a Shaman does, as they asked for proof of my schooling and accreditation as a Shaman. When I told them I wouldn’t provide those materials because it is not culturally appropriate, they asked me for the names and qualifications of my teachers. My teachers also did not have the qualifications they were looking for, and I REFUSE to play the “show me your identification card” game which is insulting to our elders. 

Are you starting to get the picture?

Shamanism is a complex identity structure. It requires a person to have certain prerequisite gifts. That’s not something you can give a person or teach a person in a course or school. Some will argue that you can transfer gifts, but I will argue that you have to be a Shaman already to receive them. In my experience as a Shaman it has often been necessary to teach other Shamans how to manage their gifts so that they would not be overwhelmed by them. Shamans have to deal with a complex cultural stigma against their very identities: don’t talk to dead people, don’t listen to voices, don’t communicate with spirits, don’t you dare see one or you’ll be labeled insane. If you’re a Shaman of BIPOC origin, just go ahead and layer institutional racism on top of it, and you’re in for a flurry of misunderstanding and bigoted response to your very identity out there in the “real world.” Shamans have to learn to navigate incredible barriers to basic human rights when they take the steps to seek help for mental or physical health issues. Some of those issues have nothing to do with them, except that their care providers are too ignorant on complex cultural matters to be good advocates for their care. This is why the great majority of Shamans that I have taught, studied with, or been in the care of, have tragic stories of healthcare gone wrong & wrongful incarceration/mental institutionalism. I really don’t know a single Shaman who doesn’t struggle with a mental health diagnosis, complex PTSD, or Epigenetic Trauma.

For those of us born of family lineages, we have to navigate Epigenetic Trauma as well. We have to face a healthcare system that was built on experimentation on our ancestors, and overcome major trust issues to receive treatment for conditions that most average citizens of the US suffer from as well: anxiety, depression, PTSD, domestic violence, sexual violence, etc. Except, when a Shaman goes to receive help they have to explain why they see spirits and their whole cosmology before someone takes them seriously around conditions that have nothing to do with their Shamanic Identity. Sometimes Shamans feel they HAVE to be honest about their experiences with these providers, even if it hurts them. They have most likely been abused for their Shamanic Identity, and aren’t so much sharing their experiences to seek help for the woo-woo, but help navigating abuse.

But those without real Shamanic Identities just take off the label Shaman whenever it is convenient. They do not have to bear the burdens of Shamanic Identity, but receive the financial benefits of associating themselves with the term. These are the folks who come to me desperate to associate themselves with me as a student, so they can claim they have met the “requirements” to be a practicing Shaman for their business profile. It’s been incredibly hard for me to navigate this within myself and not respond immediately with rage. Instead, I try to educate people tactfully - some are more responsive than others. For example, I had a student once inquire about my Shamanic Mentorship - a mentorship program I offered pre-pandemic in which I explicitly stated the purpose was to receive mentorship from a Shaman. Nothing more. This particular individual had a yoga studio and wanted to “Add Shamanism” to what they offered. I tried to explain the impossibility of such a venture, especially with me as their token Shaman who would bestow this identity on them, so they could monetize my cultural and identity for their benefit. I never heard from the person again, although they do still own and operate a studio in my hometown, they have taken no actions to support our Shamanic work on any level. My hope is that they realized the futility and ignorance of their request, although I’m certain they had no intention of ever supporting us at all. 

You’ve probably seen this kind of “shamanism” online on instagram posts, influencer pages, and people who are what I call “shamanic curious”. All these individuals have done nothing to truly commit to alleviating the pains and sufferings that they’re causing by appropriating someone’s actual identity. They feel like they have the best intentions: “Omg! No!! ONLY LOVE AND LIGHT SIS!” (eye roll). However, they tend to be completely ignorant to the damage and stress they cause to real Shamans through their selfish actions. “Being curious is ok right? I mean, I have the right to explore my identity through yours and see if it gets me friends, likes, follows, and MONEY, RIGHT?” No. Go home. Think about what you are doing when you try on someone’s identity and put yourself out there as the face of that identity. Would it behoove you to consider that Shamans themselves have had to strenuously defend their identities to others? Would it perhaps be a real act of love and light to give up your curiosities and turn over that experience to an actual Shaman? Have you considered that you cause real physical, spiritual, and mental harm to Shamans, and clients that you take on in your exploration of Shamanic traditions, rituals, and ceremonies?

If you don’t truly have a Shamanic Identity I encourage you to stop what you’ve been practicing right now, sit down, and ask for forgiveness from the Spirits, as well as living Shamans and their Ancestors. I would go to a real Shaman and pay them properly to remove the slew of crazy toxic attachments you’ve definitely been accumulating, and release you from the karmic debt you are certainly incurring. If you can get a job doing anything in the real world sector that doesn’t involve you crawling up into someone’s energy stream, I would suggest you take that job and step out of a sector you know nothing about. It’s amazing to me what people think they can make-up about themselves and others because deep down they also believe that Shamanism is made up. If it’s all made up, then you can do anything you want with no repercussions and still make money off someone else’s identity. And you still think you’re not harming anyone? 

If you’re a Shaman you know that you can’t fake it til you make it. There’s no faking the Spirits, Guides, and Ancestors. There’s no faking a spiritual or psychic attack. There’s no faking the spirit’s communication to you, or their visible presence. And when you go out into the world, no matter what you do, people are going to find you for your Shamanic Identity.

For example, I once worked at a test grading facility one summer marking up EOG exams. While at this job at every break an elderly woman would come up to me and share her stories, always with the caveat “I don’t know why I’m telling you this but...” and then go into a story about how her deceased father was contacting her at her home. He would do so by knocking things off tables and moving things around. I asked her what he thought he was trying to tell her. She eventually concluded that he wanted her to move from her house, but she didn’t feel ready for that. I suggested that she tell him this next time he made his presence known. Next time we talked she shared that she had spoken with him and that the incidents then stopped. After that she didn’t come up to me to talk, and someone new started talking to me. My boss brought me photographs from her time in AZ as a young woman, depicting petroglyphs that matched my shamanic tattoos. She said “you know that means you’re a shaman right?” I laughed and nodded. At one point everyone in my grading group was feeling very ill, one of the proctor overlords had decided to crank up the AC and everyone was freezing cold. I brought everyone blankets and stones. One gentleman later asked me what the stone meant. I told him, “it’s a piece of quartz, it doesn’t have to mean anything, it can just be beautiful”. He said “No, I mean - they mean something. I know this sounds crazy, but some really bad stuff was going on with my family: financial and health problems. But when I brought that stone home, everything changed immediately. I need you to know that.” I acknowledge him and told him yes, this can happen - the stones heal who they want to, that’s just part of our understanding of them, but we don’t expect others to believe the same way. He said “I don’t need convincing, I experienced it myself”.

No one article can even begin to truly communicate the issues surrounding the theft, appropriation, and misrepresentation of Shamanism in our world, let alone the internet. I mean, the Q Anon guy called himself a Shaman too and the media just ate it up. Why? Because it is exotic and ignorance makes for good press, and good press makes for money. 

And I don’t write this to depress or discourage anyone, especially others out there with a Shamanic Identity. Instead, I hope that this encourages you and helps you advocate for yourself in this crazy world. I hope you stand up for yourself to people trying to take advantage of you, especially people in the medical field. I don’t believe that our medical field is based on true healing practices, and I can’t really get into that rant here, but I also don’t believe our doctors mean to be “bad people” or wallow in ignorance: they’re just products of their own cultural issues as well! 

However, if you’re a Shaman struggling to receive mental or physical healthcare because someone in your family or caregiver team is purposefully using your Shamanic Identity to paint you as crazy, please feel free to show them this article and demand that they use DSM-5 to evaluate you. You deserve nothing but the best treatment. You don’t need to feel ashamed for feelings of paranoia, terror, anxiety, depression, or PTSD. People who aren’t Shamans deal with it too, so don’t be afraid of those words. I don’t know many Shamans actually disturbed by their gifts. They aren’t actually suffering mentally from seeing or hearing spirits, but from the reactions of their family, friends, colleagues, and health professionals to their actual identities. These Shamans aren’t afraid of the Spirits or Ancestors, and have had to be put in the position where they rely on those spirits to provide the care and discernment of truth that should be provided by the health and wellness systems. It’s time for the gatekeepers of the medical industry to acknowledge their bias, their systemic failure of these individuals, and the exploitation of in-need Shamans. Once that has happened, real care can be provided for issues not caused by a Shamanic Identity inherently, but by external forces of society that come against a Shaman. 

This article is dedicated to the sweet Shaman who visited my shop today with only $2 to exchange for altar work. She shared her story in great detail of how the medical industry was abusing her in the ways I’ve outlined before. She was discouraged by it, seeking information to provide to herself and her care team so that she could get real care. I was happy to provide her with the shamanic goods she needed and gift it to her as a birthday present. I tried my best to give her free resources to access for her healthcare and talking points to share with her medical team. Sister, this is what I promised you on my blog, and I hope you enjoy it. Also, I wish you the Safe Passage you’re so willing to offer others, as well as the brightness of your spirit back to you. I hope that things resolve quickly and you get the respect you deserve, because I honor your Shamanic Identity, and I appreciate you honoring mine.

[gustafsnightangel]

Shattered Lives Ch 20 Pt 1

She woke with a start to Gustaf’s lips kissing the nape of her neck that hovered between arousal and tickle. His scent wrapping itself around her, that comfort and calm she’d missed. Those strong but gentle hands fanning out over her body, his touch always alluring.

“Time to get up and dress for work love.” He murmured, his lips brushing the shell of her ear, the kiss finding that sport just below it that always had the arousal warm through her. “The kids are up and ready, I let you sleep late.” It was the least he could do after keeping her up well past 1 am.

She turned in his arms and looked at him. “What’s the time?” She asked scrubbing her hand over her face to dislodge the last cobwebs of sleep.

“Seven. You have time for a shower, to dress, eat, and go. The kids are ready and if you want I can take them to school in your car and you can go to work in mine if that works better.” He’d do anything to smooth it all over, to take that pain he’d caused her away.

“You... I... I’ll drop them off.” She said slightly taken back.

“You needed sleep before court and I kept you up late last night.” He shrugged and kissed her sweetly.

“Thank you.” She took his face in her hands and pulled him in further for a blazing lip lock.

“Go shower.” His voice husky as he let her go. “And Sildie?” He said as she sat up.

“Yeah?” She turned to look at him as he sat on the end of the bed, those shoulders slightly slumped.

“I should be on my knees kissing your feet for pulling me back from the brink.” He choked, he should be groveling at her feet begging for forgiveness he thought.

She smiled and leaned back to kiss him. “You are my everything Gustaf.” She whispered. “I’ll pull you back from the brink again and again if that’s what you need.”

He nodded. “Thank you.” He breathed and kissed her with all the love he’d buried deep down inside him. He let it out for her, let her see it, feel it.

“Anytime love, you know that. You’ve done the same for me time and time again.” She whispered and had to pull away or she’d be kissing him on an entirely different level and be very late for court.

“Go shower.” He chuckled at her unsteady breathing.

He sat with Brendan while Sildie got ready. The boy was reserved this morning at seeing him here and Gustaf knew he had to make it right between them. This would only escalate if he didn’t come clean today and he didn’t want to be walking on eggshells around the kids either.

“Brendan can we talk this afternoon?” He asked softly and watched the kid carefully. He didn’t want him imploding right before school. “I need to chat with you about some stuff.”

“Am I in trouble?” Brendan asked and his face fell.

“No, I just need a man to man chat with you about something.” No, the kid wasn’t in trouble, he was. He’d let Brendan down, he’d let Sildie down and put her in the crappy position of lying to the kid to save their bond. Why did he let it get that bad he wondered, why had he let Ana get the upper hand? He couldn’t let that happen again.

Liam crawled into Gustaf’s lap and hugged him tightly as Sildie came out of the bedroom. She took his breath away, in a dark navy suit with pale blue pinstripes, a dusty blue silk shirt that when she moved he could see the black lace under it whisper to him seductively. Her hair up in that blasted clip, light makeup, and a beaming smile as Lily wobbled and walked to her for her morning hug. How could he have been so fucking stupid to shut her out, he thought? Push her so far away she had to verbally beat him over the head to get him to talk, to realize that she was nothing like Ana.

“You ok little man?” He asked quietly as the kid stayed attached to him.

He nodded. “Better now you’re back. Don’t go away like that again.” He said and hugged Gustaf tighter.

“I won’t, I promise.” And he wouldn’t, he couldn’t go through that again, the thought of losing all this was unbearable. “Up you hop and let me get some breakfast for Ama.” The kid jumped down and Gustaf headed to the kitchen to cook the pancakes he’d already got a head start on earlier.

“Already done love.” He chuckled as she went to start making the kids lunches as Gustaf cooked.

“You already made their lunches?” Her hand dropped to the bench as the words sunk in, she wasn’t fully awake yet.

“Yeah.” He smiled at her shocked expression. “Eat.” He said handing her a pancake.

She took it and sniffed it before shooting him a smirk as she bit into it. “Thank you for this morning.”

“You needed your minimum six hours. I think I got you five. I’m sorry.” He brushed a knuckle down her cheek before his kiss stole her breath.

“I’m ok, with the extra sleep in I’ll be ok. It’s a shorter day in court and the first section of this hearing should be done at the end of next week if things go the way they’re going, maybe sooner if we get lucky. I’ll be fine.” She took another bite and watched as he cooked. Her man was still hurting but he seemed more relaxed than the past few weeks, and at least he was here, talking to her, engaged not retreating inward.

“What’s your plan for today?” She asked, taking another pancake from the stack. She was a little apprehensive at leaving him alone today after last nights emotional rollercoaster.

“I am going to make plans for our getaway. Do some stuff around the house and then talk to Brendan after school. I have some shit to sort out with him.” He looked at her and saw the slight smile of approval.

“You’re a good man Gustaf.” She kissed him tenderly. “Don’t forget that love.”

“I’m trying to be better.” He murmured, his kiss lingering softly.

“I just want you love.” She smiled as she sipped the tea that had been cooling on the counter. “Just you, as you are.”

“You deserve me to be better, they deserve me to be better.” He stole another kiss before turning back to the pancakes. “I need to be better for them, for you, for myself.”

“Then you will be love. You’re stronger than your demons.” She kissed him and chuckled as the kids did their usual eww and gross.

“Ok, get your stuff kids.” Sildie called and Gustaf found he suddenly didn’t want her to leave. He couldn’t be clingy or needy, they had lives and she had a career, but he wanted her here with him today. To touch, to hold, to mend the rift.

“See you tonight?” She asked and watched him carefully. She was trying to take it slow, give him breathing room, but in all honesty she just wanted things to go back to normal right this instant. It was like walking on eggshells, the pain still clearly reflected in those ocean blue eyes.

“I’ll be here when you get home. Usual time or you working late?” He asked and could see the dark circles under her eyes regardless of makeup. It made his heart ache knowing he was responsible for them.

“Usual time.” She stood on her threshold and rested her hand on his chest. “Call me, text me if you need to today, ok? I’ll have time at lunch.” She didn’t want to leave him like this. She knew all too well the toll of the emotional upheaval took on body and mind. “I’ll check my phone every chance I get.”

“I’ll be ok.” He kissed her sweetly. “But I’ll text you.” He kissed her hard as the elevator dinged.

“I’d like that.” She kissed him quickly and stepped in the elevator. She gave him a smoldering look from under her lashes, heard the thump of his head against the door as he groaned. The slight bite of her bottom lip earning her a wicked smile and a faint “one day love” as the doors closed. He was coming back to her slowly.

She dropped the kids off and headed to the courthouse, thoughts of the case running through her head. She stopped dead in the office they’d been assigned and smiled at the huge bouquet of yellow gerberas and white daisies. The guy moved fast she thought. She set her bag down and plucked the card stuck to the vase.

You mean the world to me love. I’m sorry.

She choked back a sob, his sweetness undid her at the oddest moments. Maybe things were getting back to normal, time, she thought, time would see their world right itself. She sent him a quick text as her client entered the room. Putting her phone on silent she stuffed it into her bag and got down to the business of the day.

He smiled as her text came in.

You are my everything Gustaf. You are enough.

He spent the day cleaning his apartment, cleaning Sildie’s, grocery shopping, which was expensive with four kids he noted. He needed the physical tasks as well as the mental ones today. He’d not felt this fragile in a long time and he didn’t like it, the vulnerability, the fear of losing her, losing himself. The meltdown with Sildie last night had cleansed him further but he felt shattered with little hope of piecing himself back together.

He would though, he’d pull it all together, for himself, for Sildie, for the kids. She would bend, she would listen, she would support, she would be understanding, but she wouldn’t tolerate shitty behavior. He’d been a prick to her these past few weeks and it had been unnecessary. He should have just talked to her, next time he would. He would be better for all of them.

He texted her so she’d know he was ok, he knew, could see, that she was concerned about him this morning, something else he was kicking himself for. He had no right to worry her like that. Put that god awful fear into her, her grief for her brother was bad enough.

He sat at his desk and started to plan their weekend away. He would mend the rift between them, he would say those three little words and be the man she deserved.

He called Alice and she agreed to watch the kids. The girl was amazing and he would make make sure that her Christmas stocking had a substantial bonus. He’d found a secluded cabin in the mountains. He wanted Sildie alone in the snow, naked in front of a fire. He’d make it up to her, with romance, with love, with everything he was.

With all that out the way he tidied up and went to work the bag. It felt different strapping his hands, pulling on the gloves. He smiled at the memory of making love to her on the mat under his bag last night. That gorgeous woman saving him from himself, again.

Even with his first swing he found his head was clearer. Thoughts of Ana flittered in and out but it wasn’t soul destroying like it had been. He’d moved past it, let it go. As fist met bag thoughts of Sildie and their future drifted into his head and made him smile.

His workout had changed from a desperate search for answers, a purge of the poison that was Ana, to being one of intense reflection. A meditation in its own right. Instead of his emotionally charged sessions that resulted in dealing with trauma it became time to hone skills and focus on his future with four kids and the only woman that had ever made him feel completely at ease, loved, a sense of belonging.

“Time.” He breathed and smiled. “Give it time.” That smiled turned to a grin. “I’m going to marry her one day.” He breathed quietly. “Have kids of our own. Well maybe.” That was a huge maybe and he knew it. His body flexed as he worked the remainder of the past few weeks out of his system.

He finished up sweaty, achy, and happy. After he showered he sat to meditate and checked his phone smiling at her text.

The flowers are beautiful.

And so are you my love.

He texted back. He had enough time for a quick meditation before he had to be back in her apartment, he wanted to be there when they all got home, family, together. He breathed deeply and settled letting the quiet of his apartment clear his mind.

Once his emotions were dampened and under control he let the night with Liam bubble up. “You’re the only dad I’ve got left.” He murmured repeating what the kid had said. In the kids mind he probably was.

He blew out a breath at what that statement actually meant. “I’m not replacing you Quinn. That was all Liam.” He said softly. “I promised you I’d take care of them and I will. I’ll do the best I can. Help Sildie, work with her to be the best parent like person to them as I can. But what Liam said was all him. I’m ok if that’s what he wants but just don’t hate me for ok?”

Liam didn’t worry him as much as Brendan. He knew it was going to hurt the teen when he spoke with him tonight. “I fucked up with Brendan and I’ll set it straight. I broke my promise to him, was responsible for Sildie lying to save my sorry ass. She did that to preserve our relationship and I’m in her debt for that but I need to make it right. I’m sorry Quinn, I fucked up and I’m sorry.” He breathed and let the anxiety bubble up and dissipate, the calm following. He needed that calm to talk to Brendan, he couldn’t have a fucking panic attack while trying to apologize to the kid. He knew he had to straighten out that mess, he just had no clue how to go about it, how much to divulge to him. How did he explain that an ex girlfriend got in his head again and fucked with him?

“Just tell it to him straight.” He muttered. “He’s a straight shooter like Sildie. Talk to him like the man he almost is. He deserves your honesty, your respect.” He breathed out. “He’s going to be so fucking angry and disappointed.” He sighed. “And he has every right to be, you fucked up and it upset him. Coming clean will hurt him.” He sat for another fifteen minutes formulating in his head what he was going to say and how he was going to say it. As his alarm sounded he got to his feet and went to collect some clothes before heading to Sildie’s.

He made a pot of tea, sat at the table, and pulled out the leather bound notebook. He smiled at the photos, the pressed daisy in the back and began to write about the good things in his life. Sildie, the kids, his work, his family, little things that made him smile. The way Sildie made him feel as if he was the only man in the world for her. It was so different, this feeling of belonging, of family, their family, or at least the family they were becoming.

He thought about the Christmas present he had started working on for Sildie and the kids and hoped the plan wouldn’t backfire, especially after the past few weeks. Even with the logical and realistic nature of it he was still concerned she’d balk and run in the opposite direction. And if he was being honest and logical, she’d had a perfect opportunity to run like the wind because of his behavior and yet she stayed. She decided to stay, fight for their relationship, fight for him, and she was right, he’d fight for it too. Deep down he’d fight for it, for her, for the kids, he wanted it all. He was reading through a script when he heard the key in the door and the kids outside it laughing.

They came flooding through the open door and he suddenly felt overwhelmed with the amount of love they all carried with them, for each other, for him. Brendan with the high five, the twins with bear hugs, and little Lily who wobbled as she walked to him with a screeching dad dad.

His heart swelled to bursting at her words, and her tiny face lighting up on seeing him. He pulled the little lady into his arms and kissed her until she was giggling. He looked at Sildie, tired and slightly frazzled, the love of his life, that gorgeous woman standing in the doorway smiling yet weighed down. He’d been too caught up in his own head to see it. Weighed down with her own grief, and now with all his shit he’d just dumped on her without a care for her emotional state. He’d been an asshole to her.

They both needed time, this getaway to relax and reconnect, he’d make sure it was perfect. He went to her and lifted the messenger bag off her shoulder onto his, gripped her behind the neck and kissed her like it was his last.

“Hi.” She said breathlessly, her head was still spinning as he let her up for air. The guy could kiss like no other.

“Hi back.” He growled softly, that low rumble that did things to her.

“That’s some welcome home kiss.” Her voice soft but he could hear the tiredness.

“Want another?” His grin was wicked.

“Wouldn’t say no.” She shrugged and bit her bottom lip. He kissed her again and the usual chorus of thats disgusting drifted around the apartment which had them both grinning. “One day love.” He murmured in that low timbre that made her instantly wet.

“Thank you for the flowers.” She said holding them up. “The note made me cry.” She tweaked his nose playfully. “Right before court.” She chuckled and her smile lit up his world.

“Good day then?” He asked, placing her bag on the table and heading to the kitchen to find a vase for the flowers.

“It was ok. The case will adjourn for discovery Tuesday. Vase? Bottom left cupboard.” She said seeing his silent question. “When we resume is anyone’s guess.”

“Keep the weekend of December 6 through 9 open. We leave Friday, back Monday.” He said as he filled the vase and placed the flowers in it all while trying to keep Lily’s hands out of them. “It’s in a couple of weeks. I’ve put it in our calendar.” He would try to keep that updated. He’d also given Daisy access to it so she could change his work schedule when needed.

“Where are we going?” She asked cheekily knowing full well he wouldn’t tell her. He was trying she thought, he was trying so hard to make it right.

“Away.” He growled and kissed her brow. “And that’s all you need to know for now.” He’d say those three little words, with all the love and romance she deserved from him. “Now, I need you to take Lily for a moment. I have to chat with Brendan after I see how much homework he has before I go ruining his evening.” He was nervous, and the anxiety was starting to surface. He knew this could potentially be worse than last night. Their entire relationship was suddenly very fragile and he needed to remember that.

“It’ll be fine love. Be straight with him, he’ll understand.” She kissed him tenderly. “Come here Lily bear lets get dinner started and make our shopping list.” She bundled Lily to her and Gustaf smirked as he walked to Brendan’s room. She’d realize soon enough he’d already beaten her to the punch with groceries.

He tapped on Brendan’s door and waited for the kid to look at him. “Got a moment or are you neck deep in homework?” He asked gently, those long fingers twitching nervously.

“Kinda neck deep.” Brendan said quietly.

“Talk when you’re done?”

“Sure.” The kid hesitated. “You sure I’m not in trouble?” He asked.

“You’re not, but I maybe. Come get me when you’re done?”

“Yeah sure.” The kid was puzzled now but Gustaf wouldn’t keep him thinking he’d done something wrong.

He came back into the kitchen with Sildie tending to dinner, Lily sitting on the counter beside her helping stir and empty pot.

“Don’t think for a moment I didn’t notice you went grocery shopping.” She said irritably. He knew how she felt about him spending money on them.

He snaked an arm around her and held her close, Lily chattering to him. “I’m eating and sleeping here Sildie my turn for groceries. You’ve spent the past month feeding me.” He kissed the nape of her neck and Lily squealed and clapped her hands together. “Please don’t be mad at me for helping out. I’ll buy food for this month, you can do the next month.”

“Fine.” She conceeded, their agreement was food and presents were off limits but he was meeting her half way and she had to suck that up. “It’s just... you know how I feel about it.”

“I know, and I’m trying not to just pay for it all, but I can’t ask you to feed me on top of everything else you have to take care of.” He could have just bullied her into letting him buy the groceries every month as per their agreement but he knew there was a line and he was wasn’t going to cross it, not after last night. “That smells really good.” He said and kissed the spot below her ear. “You smell better.” He growled. Her chuckle was wicked as she turned to face him.

“You’ll just have to cool your jets there love.” She purred and kissed him sinfully.

“Illegal.” He groaned.

“Still gonna do it.” She quipped and turned back to the pan.

“Fuck I hope so.” His tone equally playful.

“Can you clear and set the table?”

“I can, right after I kiss you some more. I’ve missed you.” He murmured and ghosted the nape of her neck with his lips causing her to shiver. His low throaty chuckle making her pussy tingle.

“Go. Set the table.” She laughed as he pulled his hand away from her waist, touching her seductively along the way.

“Come on Lily, come and help. You need to start pulling your weight around here missy.” He said playfully as Lily squealed at him. He set the table and got Lily in her chair before calling the kids for dinner. They sat and ate as a family unit and it felt right he thought. Something for him had clicked into place. Maybe Sildie unleashing on him last night was what he needed. Maybe he’d needed to almost lose this to realize he needed it so much.

The kids cleared the table and Brendan took care of the dishes as it was his turn this week while Sildie started on her reading. With Lily snuggled in his arms he set the kettle onto boil for tea.

“I’m done with homework so when you’re done with tea we can talk if you still need to.” He said to Gustaf a little hesitantly. The kid looked slightly terrified.

“Cool, I’ll get a tea for Sildie and we can chat.” He said quietly. “You’re not in trouble B.” Gustaf found he was incredibly nervous. Maybe that was because he knew this could blow up in his face and fuck up their entire relationship. And not just Brendan, what would Sildie do if things went to shit with the boy? He couldn’t think on that just now, one clusterfuck at a time.

He made the tea and sat it on the table with two cups. Brushing his finger against her cheek he waited until she came back to him from lawyer land.

“Tea steeping for you. I’ll be back in a little while, I’m going to talk with Brendan.” He murmured and squeezed her shoulder as he kissed her hair breathing in her scent to calm him.

He passed Lily to her and the little lady snuggled into her with a mum mum. “You gonna help me little lady?” He heard her say as they went to Brendan’s room and shut the door. Mainly for privacy but he wanted the kid on his turf where he was in control.

“So I’m really not in trouble?” He asked sitting on the bed while Gustaf sat in his desk chair and leaned forward resting his massive frame on his knees with his elbows.

“No you’re not in any trouble B.” He rubbed his hands together and chose his words carefully. “I need to be honest with you about something and would like you to just hear me out fully before you decide to get angry or be upset with me ok?”

“Ok.” The kid agreed, not really sure what else to do.

“I fucked up yesterday with your hockey game.” He said evenly and looked at the kid, eye contact was important. There was no room for error or bullshit with this. He needed to get it out, come clean, and do it calmly which was a mission because he wanted to throw his dinner up the anxiety was so high. “The past few weeks I’ve been going through some emotional shit. An ex girlfriend of mine messed me up and I’ve been trying, and failing, to get that sorted out and move past it for Sildie, and for all of you. It beat me up pretty good and I completely forgot I had promised you I’d be there at your game and to bring you home. My mind hasn’t really been focused on anything outside of what I’ve been dealing with.”

He breathed out carefully finding the calm and burying the emotion from last night. “I only remembered when Sildie came over to my apartment last night and ripped into me. She told me how you’d called her in tears because you thought something had happened to me and for that I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am that I put you through it. I feel like shit for it B. She also told me that you had a shutout and was devastated I wasn’t there to see it and I’m sorry for that too.”

He paused and chose his next words with care and tact. “Sildie also told me that she lied to you, told you I was in the stands and I’d just forgotten to pick you up. Now before you get angry at her for lying to you please let me explain why.” He said quickly, seeing the flash of anger bristle in the kid. “She lied to protect you and also to protect the bond that you and I are still working on, still forming. She didn’t want to see you hurting and if you want to be angry at her for that it’s misdirected. I’m the one that fucked up Brendan. If you need to be angry at anyone it should be me, I’m the one who put her in that position.”

“I can’t turn back time to make it right. I can only ask that you accept my apology and I’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to you. I broke my promise to you and that was a shitty move on my part. I’m sorry, there aren’t enough words to tell you how sorry I am. I’d really like another chance to try again at being the bigger brother you deserve.” He let out a slow steady breath and waited, he could see the kid was chewing over his words, the anger settling with his explanation. So much like Sildie he thought and probably so much like his father.

“I knew there was something going on with you.” Brendan said softly. “Something had changed, you weren’t your usual goofy self.” His huffed chuckle set Gustaf at ease. “Ama was really mad yesterday.”

“Oh believe me kid, I know exactly how mad. She had every right to say what she said last night and kick my ass to the curb and back again.” He said and looked at the teen. “I hurt her B and I promised I wouldn’t. I’m doing everything I can to make it up to her.”

“Did you sleep with your ex?” The teen asked not really sure if he should be asking but he knew of dads that did and he didn’t like the thought of his aunt being hurt like that.

“No. I haven’t seen my ex in over a year and god willing never will. I would never cheat on Sildie. I’ve been cheated on B, know how that feels and I don’t want to ever do that to someone I love. My actions hurt her enough, I shut her out, didn’t talk to her about what was upsetting me. It all goes back to the emotional crap my ex put me through and that’s no excuse for being a complete prick to her.” He saw the kid nod as if he were connecting the dots.

“I was scared something had happened to you, like mum and dad.” His voice was quiet as a mouse.

“I’m sorry B, I never meant to freak you out like that and I can’t begin to explain how shitty I feel about it.” He did, the kids grief was bad enough he didn’t need that on top of it.

“I’ve lost my dad, I can’t lose you too.” His voice choked but he didn’t break. “You’re the only dad we have now.”

His words hit Gustaf like a brick to the side of the head making a sob catch in his throat. First Liam now Brendan he thought, the kids had been talking. “You know I love you guys like you’re my own.” He smiled and let the tears fall with a huffed laugh. “I’m still learning all this stuff B, I don’t know if I can be half the man your father was.”

“You can’t.” He said simply, shaking his head looking at Gustaf. “Because you’re not him. You’re you.” He smiled. “We love you, just as you are, the goofier the better.” He smirked as Gustaf looked at the kid a little dumbstruck.

“Are you and Ama ok?” He asked as his fingers fidgeted in his lap.

“We will be. I’m not proud of it Brendan, I hurt her and fuck I...” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I never wanted this part of my life to touch her, to touch you guys.”

“You’re not splitting up are you?” The teen held his breath, Gustaf could see it.

“No.” He shook his head and the kid sprung off the bed and hugged him tightly.

“Good.” He sniffed. Gustaf closed his eyes and hugged him. The teen had been worried they would split and he wouldn’t be in their lives anymore. He let the quiet sigh of relief out as the kid let go.

“No were not splitting up. I can’t lose her.” He said as the kid sat back down. “I can’t lose her because I think it would actually kill me. I’m a wreck without her Brendan.”

“She’s been really upset and stressed. Especially when you weren’t sleepinghere. I could hear her crying at night.” He said softly. “Don’t tell her I told you though. She’ll be mad.”

“What we say in here is just between us.” Gustaf said and the teen nodded in understanding. “Are we ok Brendan? You and me?” He asked gently, fully prepared for the kid to tell him to fuck off.

“Yeah we’re ok. On one condition though.” He said and Gustaf could see that same steel that Sildie had in her last night creep into the kid. “Don’t make her cry like that again.”

Gustaf was proud of him. It took balls to say that to an adult in that tone. A tone that clearly said don’t fuck with her.

“I have no intention of making her cry ever again unless it’s happy tears. I really fucked up Brendan and I know my promises don’t mean shit to you right now but I promise you I’ll make it up to her. Let me make it better?” Gustaf held his breath, this would make or break them.

He nodded and seemed to relax. “I just don’t want to see her hurt again.” He said softly.

“Me either B.” Gustaf breathed out gently. “We ok?”

“Yeah.” The kid smiled and Gustaf could feel the tension leave the room. “Can you come next week?” Brendan asked hesitantly.

“I’ll check my calendar but if I’m open, I’m there.” He said gently. “Work trip coming up.”

“Ok.” His smile beamed. “If you can’t I get it.”

“I’ll certainly try though. Thanks for hearing me out.” Gustaf said honestly. He feared there would be more anger and tears from the kid toward him.

“Thanks for being straight with me.” He shot back.

“You are more like Sildie than you think.” He chuckled. “And I would assume more like your dad considering they were twins.”

“I guess.” He shrugged with a smile.

“Homework done?” He asked heading for the door.

“Yeah I’m gonna take a shower and curl up to finish my book.”

“Good plan.” He nodded. “Night B and thanks.”

“Night and no problem.” He grinned.

Gustaf came out to see Sildie busy taking notes and her tea still sitting there, probably stone cold by now, he thought with a smile. He stood behind her, rested his hands on her shoulders gently and kissed her head breathing in that scent that made his world function right side up. He felt the tears prickle his eyes, tears of relief more than anything else.

“You ok love?” She asked as she continued to write.

“You talked to him didn’t you?” He murmured into her hair as he got his emotions under control and massaged the rocks that had taken up residence in her shoulders.

“Yes.” She said gently, as he kissed her head and sat down to look at her. “I didn’t do it for you.” Her eyes came up off her paper to lock onto his over the top of her reading glasses. “I did it for him. He needs you Gustaf and I couldn’t have that fragile bond broken and in turn break that kids heart, again. Breaking it was bad enough the first time around with his parents.” She could see her words had made their point. He’d done the right thing, it was time to move on. “Everything go ok?”

He nodded. “Yeah.” He scrubbed a hand over his face and drank his cold tea. He hadn’t thought about the repercussions of shutting her out, they spread further than he’d realized. “What did you say to him?”

“I told him you were going through some grief of your own, different to ours but grief all the same. I asked him to hear you out and to think about everything you said before getting upset or angry. I basically asked him to keep and open mind and not be judgmental. We all grieve differently, for different things.”

“I guess I owe you for that one too.” He said quietly. How was he ever going to make this right he wondered?

“No, you just paid in full. You righted the wrong and it’s done. We don’t hang past deeds over peoples heads for leverage in this house. Never have and we’re not about to start that bullshit now.” She knew where his mind was going and had read in the few pages of his notebook that Ana had done exactly that. He looked at her and saw the lawyer sitting before him, and she was scary as fuck when she pulled it out.

“Thank you.” He murmured and brushed a knuckle against her hand as she started writing.

She hooked her finger in his. “It’s done now love. We move on, we move forward, we move past this.” She tugged his fingers for him to move closer to her, he was still so fragile. Those fingers gripped his chin gently and his eyes looked into hers. “Together, you and me.” Her voice gentle. She kissed him, that loving kiss that filled his soul.

“I know.” He whispered as she got back to work with a smile. “Can I sit here with you and read?”

“Of course.” She said absently.

“Lily go down ok?” He asked softly.

“She did. A few dad dads later.” She smirked and he smiled to himself as he went to make a fresh pot of tea.

She was stronger than she gave herself credit for and took no shit either, he thought as he watched her from the kitchen. He was grateful that she was a straight shooter, called it how she saw it. It was what captured his mind the first time they really spoke over their Friday tea dates. Maybe it was time they started having those tea dates again he mused. They were the reason they’d become so close in the beginning, it might help to bring them closer together again and heal the wound he’d inflicted on her.

With a fresh, hot, pot of tea he sat with her and read his script. He absently poured her a cup, chewing over the characters and plot line in his head. Brushing a finger against her pen arm she eventually stilled and came up for air.

“Fresh tea, drink love.” He said still reading, a slight smirk tugging those talented lips.

She looked at him, then the tea and smiled. He was so good to her. She would have been in lawyer land until she fell asleep mid sentence had he not pulled her back to reality every now and then. She sipped her tea and watched him over the rim of her teacup.

He was fragile, she could see it just below the surface, a brittleness that’s threatened to shatter him if she pushed. The past few weeks had torn him apart and he was struggling to pick up those pieces. Maybe it was a good thing they were having a few days away together to reconnect. He would heal though, she’d see to it, tend him like he’d done for her. She she would stitch that kind generous heart back together a kiss at a time.

She tidied her work and stacked it at the end of the table for the morning. She really did need an office but Lily needed a bedroom before that. After Christmas she’d have enough saved to section off part of the living area into a small bedroom. Time, she thought, all in good time.

With her tea half finished she got up and took the teapot over to rinse out for the morning. He was still lost in his script when she let her hands rest on his shoulders and drift over his chest. She kissed his temple and waited. That hand soon left the paper and rested over hers.

“I’m done for the night.” She whispered. “My brain is over lawyered and I need sleep.” She kissed him again.

“Go shower I’ll be there in a minute, I want to finish this scene.” His hand snaked around her neck and he craned his head back to kiss her sweetly. “Then I’ll come snuggle with you.”

“See that you do.” She kissed him, that sinful promise on her lips.

“Illegal.” He choked with a grin.

“I think I can swindle a deal to get us out of trouble.” She smirked and headed for a shower. “Or into more depending.” He watched her walk to her room, those hips sashaying, her curves beckoning. He felt his cock twitch and groaned softly.

He finished his scene, made his notes, and tidied his work up at the end of the table with Sildies. He smiled at their bags nestled together and felt his heart flutter, normal, their normal. He checked the front door was locked and turned the lights off before pulling a daisy from the vase and bringing it with him.

He found her naked and barely covered by the bedsheet. Those curves enticing him. He placed the flower on the bed and stripped. Twirling the daisy between his fingers so it spun he grinned and climbed in beside her kissing her shoulder. He trailed the petals down her side and watched as her body shivered.

She was squirming by the time he brushed it over her hip. “That’s tickles.” She giggled quietly.

“Does it now?” He kissed her neck and nipped her jaw as she rolled slightly to look at him.

“Yes.” She breathed out as he gently bit down on the spot below her ear.

He lazily stroked her body with the flower, kissing a trail lightly over spots he knew made her lose control. He left her comfortable on her side as he dipped lower and lower with each pass of the petals over her curves.

Gently he straddled her lower leg and rested the other on his hip. He tormented her inner thighs with flower and finger, and groaned as he brushed her heat finding her soaked for him. He gripped her by the ankle and brought it up to rest on his shoulder opening her wide. His fingers destroyed her system as they caressed the length of her leg, lips kissing her calf.

Her hand gripped his thigh as he took hold of her ass and hip gently pulling her to him. She could feel his cock pressed against her entrance, the hardness and heat causing her to softly whimper for him. She’d never been taken in this position and knew the change in angle would likely send her over the edge quickly.

He toyed with her, brushing his engorged head over her clit, circling it around her entrance. She whimpered into the pillow as he slid his tip in and rested there. No words were needed, the pleasure was written all over her body, hands already fisting in sheet and pillow.

With a slow thrust he inched inside her, his hands pulling her onto his cock until he bottomed out.

“Sildie.” He breathed, as he sheathed himself deeply.

Her fingers dug into his thigh as he found that slow torturous rhythm. He felt like he’d stretched her beyond anything she’d ever felt before, his girth erotically destroying her. That thickness and length caressing every secret spot inside her.

He watched as she fell apart at his touch, gave herself to him, to the pleasure. Her body trembling deliciously as he thrust harder. Her muffled whimper into the pillow made him smile as he slipped a finger over her clit and felt her tense, her fingers digging into his thigh as she fought to control her climax.

With a cry her body spasmed, shaking and writhing as his cock continued it pleasurable assault as she came. Leaning forward slightly on his knees he quickened his pace, hips pistoning.

“Gustaf.” She whimpered as her second orgasm crested so quickly her body shook violently, hands frantic as the euphoria took her. It crashed through her and his groan only made her third build quicker.

He looked down at her as he took her. Curves trembling, hands scrambling for purchase, body writhing. The feel of her tight pussy squeezing him, pulsing around him had his release crest. He felt her tense, the soft cry and whisper as she begged him to tip her over the edge.

“Go over love, take me with you.” He growled gently.

His fingers gripped her and flicked her clit, destroying her system with an overload of stimuli. She screamed into the pillow as she shattered around him. Her pussy clamped down on his cock hard and he erupted. He pounded into her, enjoying her tightness, drawing out their pleasure.

Slowing to a stop, panting hard, his release making him see stars, he pulled out of her gently and eased her leg down massaging her hip. He lay beside her and spooned her as their heart rates came down from the high.

“Now you’ll sleep well.” He snickered playfully.

“No doubt.” Her giggle equally mischievous. She rolled over in his arms and kissed him. “That was some position.”

“You like that one?” He kissed her, tongue teasing, tasting.

“I do. I like all of them but that might be a new favorite.” She grinned.

“I’ll remember that.” He murmured and kissed her sweetly.

“I do have to sleep now though.” Her pout made him groan before he kissed her roughly. She filed that reaction away for later, she was learning what made him tick, what could possibly make him lose control.

“Yes you do. Court tomorrow, you need to be sharp.” He couldn’t keep her up any later tonight, not after yesterday.

“You doing ok?” She asked gently, her finger trailing his scruff as she snuggled against him.

“I’m doing better. Still have some shit to sort out but it’s not as bad.” He kissed her with that love he had buried deep. “You’re the light in my darkness Sildie, you burn so brightly love.”

“And you’re mine.” Her kiss was long and sweet.

“Sleep now. Don’t want my lawyer all grumpy and not at her best.” He curled her in and brushed the flower petals against her cheek which made her laugh softly.

“They smell pretty.” She sighed.

“So do you love.” Kissing her head he lay the flower on the nightstand and breathed her in.

He felt her drift and then plummet into sleep, her entire body going lax almost instantly. He smiled and kissed her head as he lay there thinking. Things were better and would continue to get better, he’d work on it. He would do better for her, for the kids.

“You’re my home.” He whispered.

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

@hausofobsession @ill-skillsgard @grandpa-sweaters @authentic90skidd @tuckersgirl @fairlyfallacy @flowers-in-your-hayr @raewritesfiction @stinkerbelle007 @kamie-b @mrsaugustwalker @skrsgardspam

[thefangirlslair]

Free At Last (A Sasusaku One-Shot Fanfiction) x Purple Love VI

Note: Okay, okay. I know it’s been a while. I’ve been busy not being completely mental because of some stuff, and then this corona virus comes up and just messes up with my head furthermore. Ugh! Well, I hope you’re all safe and doing well. And of course, enjoy Sakura Day! It is our queen’s birthday, and I know i’ll never forgive myself if i don’t participate on her special day. So i hope you appreciate this one because i took a break from angst and tried a light and fluffy one. I am sO NERVOUS OMG thanks so much to everyone who keeps on reading these fics i have. Thank u thank u!!!

PS. This is also up on my ffnet! Let me know your thoughts! Again, Happy Birthday Uchiha Sakura!!!!!!!!!! MY QUEEN I LOB U

-

Excerpt:  This might be her second birthday since he knew her, first as her boyfriend, but he feels like he’s known her for a long time. He wants to be there on her birthday every year, forever, as long as she’ll have him.

--

SasuSaku Pairing (2,578 words)

A Poor Attempt at Writing Fics

Sasusaku Edition XXV

Free At Last

Not even grainy resolutions of webcam cameras and shitty internet connections can ever hide her wide-blown grin. May it be over a monitor, your smartphone or in person, Haruno Sakura’s smile will always be as beautiful as its owner. And it’s even much brighter now that her team is singing her happy birthday through her computer screen.

Boisterous laughter followed after all the singing because was that Lee-san who croaked that last note?

“That was awful, Eyebrows!”, laughed Naruto, some dramatic tears leaking from the corners of his happy blue eyes and his tongue slipping the familiar nickname outside work. “Was that you or you have a pet frog?” The addressed man cannot be seen beyond his webcam because he was busy lying under his desk because Sakura-san! I have failed to sing the best happy birthday song! Shame on me!

Almost choking on her drink, Tenten interrupted, “Hey Naruto, we’re still technically at work even though we’re working from home. Stop with the nicknames until later!”

“C’mon, buns! It’s not as if Boss is here to murder us with his glare! And it’s just another 10 minutes before our shift ends; we need to celebrate Sakura-chan's birthday at least!”, the blond whined as an answer.

“Aww, thanks so much guys!”, Sakura smiled. “Naruto, stop teasing Lee-san. And listen to Tenten, we still need to be professional while we’re still at work. I wish we are together at the office though! I would’ve loved to celebrate with you all, too.”

Another blue-eyed, blonde person answered. “Ugh, tell me about it. I’d rather be at the office right now and listen to Naruto’s obnoxious voice than be with a lazy ass and be bored out of my mind like someone over here..” Ino’s annoyed face and an even more annoyed voice rang through their earphones and speakers, noting the emphasis on some words about her boyfriend who rolled his eyes. In the background, you can hear Tenten’s Language!

They can all see Shikamaru, the boyfriend, who simply smirked, looked sideways at his workmate/girlfriend and lazily drawled, “You love this lazy ass.”

Series of ‘OHHHHHH’ can be heard from Kiba, Tenten and Naruto while Lee choked some more and laid again under his desk. Sakura just laughed at her best friend’s face because Ino was trying so hard not to blush that she covered her almost-red face and slapped Shikamaru’s arm at reach. Sakura even heard the man chuckled under his breath.

“Shika, you smooth fucker,” Kiba teased. “Teach us your ways!”

Tenten growled, “Inuzuka, if you don’t shut the fuck u-”

“Weren’t you the one who said to remain professional and mind our language while at work, Tenten-san?”, Lee’s head came up to peek onto the camera and asked his innocent question. He ducked again when the brunette’s eyes flashed for a second and escaped before she unleashes her rage on him.

Sakura’s laughter was light and happy, her green eyes sparkling with mirth. These people’s faces on her screen belong to not just her team at work but her friends. Her second family. Or maybe third? she thought.

They spend more than 40 hours a week together whether it be stressing over clients at work, drinking coffee at the pantry, pizza parlor visits after shift, and ice creams every payday. And now that she realized that it has been two long months since they worked from home, now at their last day of quarantine, let alone on her birthday, she misses them. Terribly so.

“I miss you guys. Really,” she said, her voice a bit lower than usual, which means she’s serious. Her friends saw it and immediately stopped their bickering. “I didn't have anyone before until Naruto and Ino came along. Then came Tenten, then Shikamaru... until Kiba and then lastly, Lee-san. It’s been 10 years since my first celebration with the blonds, but I feel like I’ve been celebrating it with all 7 of you ever since.” She smiled again, “Thank you for always being with me on my day.”

A few moments passed and finally, a chorus of incomprehensible words were heard through Sakura’s speakers because they all reacted at the same time:

“Sakura-chaaan! Don’t be sad! I’ll be sad too!”

“Cut... hik... cut the drama f-forehead! I d-.. I don’t want it!... hik...”

“Ah... now you want me to fall for you now, huh? Stop, damn it Sakura..”

“Girl, don’t touch my fucking heart like that. You already know we got you always.”

“SAKURA-SAAAAAAAAAN!!!”

Sakura watched it all with glowing eyes and a full heart. She looked one by one on their blurry little faces and she felt love just seep through her pores. She’s finally seeing them next week since the quarantine is finally over and there will be no need to hide from the pandemic that affected the rest of the world.

They’re still busy reeling over Sakura’s mini birthday speech and the rosette is overwhelmed with emotions when they heard Shikamaru asked, “Seven?”

“Huh?”, Sakura confusedly asked back.

“We’re only six here, excluding you, but you said ‘all 7 of you’ earlier.”

All eyes turned to her and she felt nervous. Crap, I slipped!

“Oh,” she started, nervously added an awkward laugh. “I meant six! I might be more tired than usual then. We had to talk to a lot of clients today anyway, right?”

She knew she didn’t convince Shikamaru and the rest of her friends, so she thanked all the deities she knew when her phone rang and Kakashi’s name flashed on her screen. She took it as an opportunity to escape more questions from them and so she said, “I gotta take this call, it’s my old high school teacher.”

She muted their audio of their conference call and opened the window of her emails instead to hide her screen and chat box. Sakura went to the balcony to answer the call.

Little did she know that she forgot to turn off her camera.

--

“Did you notice she was acting weird?”

“She absolutely did, right? She looked nervous earlier. Do you know something about this, Naruto?”

“No! She tells us everything but for the past few months, she’s been a little secretive, I think. It also doesn’t help that we’ve been in quarantine for 2 months! Is she still my best friend, Ino-chan?”

“First of all, I am her best friend and not you. And second, I agree. Ugh, this Forehead is making my head hurt!”

“Don’t judge Sakura-san! She’s a good friend! If she wants to tell us something, she will!”

“I don’t care about her secret or whatever, all I want to know where her house is because look at her room. So fucking huge!”

“That’s not her house, Kiba. Forehead said she’s staying at her mom’s friend because she’s alone at her apartment.”

“Yeah, Sakura-chan's room is much brighter and full of flowers! The room they gave her now is so boring, look! It’s either black or gray!”

“I wouldn’t mind. The size of that room is almost as big as my entire apartment. That bed looks something I want to break with Neji.”

“Tenten-san!! Control yourself!!!”

“Y’all are so noisy even in chat.”

“Shut up, ponytail!”

A movement from Sakura’s camera caught everyone’s attention. Her computer is located at the corner of the room so they could see a part of the queen size bed and has a direct view of the bedroom door. The knob turned and someone entered the room.

“WHO’S THAT?!!!”

“SOMEONE ENTERED SAKURA-SAN'S ROOM!!”

“Is that her mom’s friend?”

“Stop panicking idiots!”

“THEY BETTER LEAVE SAKURA-CHAN ALONE!!!”

“Wait...”

“Is that....?”

“OHMYFGOFDD”

“IS THAT BOSS TEME???!”

“Holy shit..”

“Damn he’s so fucking hot in sweatpants...”

“Why is he there??????”

“UCHIHA-SAN IS IN SAKURA-SAN'S ROOM!!!!!”

“I see... this could be why Sakura said 7.”

“NOOOO! THIS CAN’T BE! SAKURA-CHAN WON’T DATE THAT ASSHOLE! SHE CAN’T!!”

Stood inside the room is no other than their young CEO, Uchiha Sasuke, dressed in casual gray sweatpants and thin white t-shirt. If not because of his wild black hair and intimidating aura, they wouldn’t even know it’s him. They have always seen him in crisp suits and perfect posture, maybe once in a bomber jacket and ripped jeans, but this is the first time they’ve seen him in comfortable clothes with his usual stiff shoulders a bit relaxed and his hands casually tucked in his pockets.

Another movement from the other corner of the room, and Sakura came into view. They didn’t know she was only wearing a big shirt that barely covered her thighs, and the chat room exploded again.

“Sakura’s so hot, damn..”

“HOY DOG-BREATH, LOOK AWAY!!! STOP HOUNDING SAKURA-CHAN!!”

“YAAAS GET THAT ASS GIRL!!”

“I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS! FOREHEAD IS BANGING OUR BOSS! THAT’S SO HOT”

They watched in awe when the two met in the middle of the room and Sakura tiptoed and wrapped her arms around Sasuke’s neck. Their boss leaned down and held her hips, his face hidden within her pink locks.

The scene didn’t have any audio for their mini audience but even without it, they know the two are speaking in whispers, with Sakura’s head nodding and Sasuke’s hands running over her waist and back as indications. They felt like intruders and most of them almost blushed because of the affection and intimacy, excluding one who definitely passed out under his desk, so they decided to leave the two.

“Let’s leave them alone now, things might get pretty hot. I don’t wanna see my best friend shagging my boss, no matter how proud I am of her.”

“INO-CHAN! WE GOTTA HELP SAKURA-CHAN ESCAPE! WHAT IF HE’S HOLDING HER HOSTAGE???”

“Idiot..”

“Sakura can take me hostage any time though..”

“Wait, I just want to see Boss Uchiha topless before we go!”

--

Sasuke pulled away for a bit to look at Sakura, his birthday girl, and poked her forehead with his two fingers. His two arms wrapped around her waist again after the gesture, “Are you done for today?”

She nodded in affirmative as her hands roam around his shoulders and looped around his neck, “I almost slipped earlier though. They almost knew I have a b-..boyf-”

He smirked. They have been secretly dating for almost 4 months now but she still blushes more than usual when she tries to address him as her boyfriend. He remembered the time he introduced her to his parents as his girlfriend and she was redder than his favorite fruit the entire dinner. That was fun.

She’s his employee, he knows. Sakura’s been working for his company for more than a year now and ever since he laid his eyes on her and saw her potential, wit and charm—he knows she’s his endgame.

It’s been a long pursuit for him, being her boss and all, and her righteous perspective about everything. So when she finally gave in to her own feelings and decided to say yes to being his, he decided to never let Haruno Sakura go. Even if she decides to fight tooth and nail for her freedom from him, he will do the same to keep her. Maybe not as an employee, because that would mean he will be free to take her on lunch dates, but as his lover.

I like that, he thought. Lover.

Sasuke peered at her blushing face, her emerald eyes downcast because of embarassment, her enticing full pink lips on display that she keeps on licking and biting. Sasuke’s eyes twitched because of the sight.

“Annoying,” he almost growled under his breath. Is she aware of her effect on him?

Before she could even ask, Sasuke ducked his head down to press his mouth on hers. His hand went to the back of her head to tilt it a little upwards so he could taste deeper and he was rewarded by the opening of her mouth and the quiet moan that he drank greedily from her.

As much as he wants to call it a night and just bury himself with her and in her, she hasn’t eaten yet because his hard-headed and annoying employee still worked at home on her birthday. He baked a strawberry cake downstairs while she thought he’s busy working with investors on his office. He spent the entire day in his kitchen Facetiming with his mother to guide his baking. He’s never seen his mother so ecstatic because of him.

He came back to his senses when he felt slightly cold hands under his shirt and he fought the urge to throw her onto the bed they have been occupying for the past 2 months of quarantine and just ravish her all night. Sasuke moved both his hands and held her face as he savored more of her lips by a few flicks of his tongue before he gently pulled away.

This might be her second birthday since he knew her, first as her boyfriend, but he feels like he’s known her for a long time. He wants to be there on her birthday every year, forever, as long as she’ll have him. “Happy birthday,” he simply said, tenderly looking at her gorgeous face.

Her smile was blinding and her green irises glimmer against the setting sun. “Thank you, Sasuke-kun,” Sakura softly answered. “I love you so much.”

He pecked her lips again, lingering a bit more, and murmured against her mouth. “Love you.” He felt her smile, and he smiled back.

A small blink from the corner of his eyes got his attention and he noticed the tops of her laptop’s screen with a little light, indicating that the camera is on. Sasuke turned to Sakura, “Go downstairs and wait for me. Let’s eat dinner. I’ll just take a shower.”

Sakura nodded and happily skipped across the room and slipped outside the bedroom to wait for him downstairs. Sasuke stood for a moment looking at the door and slowly walked toward his, their, dresser. He took off his t-shirt and tossed it carelessly on the floor. He took a deep breath and finally approached Sakura’s computer on the side.

He clicked the program that runs the conference call and was greeted by her team’s shocked faces. He saw one window where Rock Lee was supposed to be but he didn’t see anyone aside from the crooked angle of the camera and are those his feet under the table? He scoffed inwardly. Guess you’ll give up pursuing her now. She’s mine.

He did a lazy sweep of his dark eyes one by one on their faces and remembered them in the future if they decide to blame Sakura for not telling this secret. Of course, they both wanted to show the world that they’re together but they still need to be a little cautious. Yes, they’re her friends and her team, but he’s not gonna be lenient especially when it comes to Sakura.

Sasuke thought the look in his eyes were effective because they all sat a little straighter. His job is now done, and now it’s time to shower so he could celebrate the entire night with Sakura. His spine tingled in anticipation.

He looked directly at the little camera above and gave his signature smirk before he logged out her account and closed Sakura’s laptop. He stretched like a feline and his grin went wider as he stripped for his shower.

Let’s just say it was an interesting first day back at the office the following Monday.

--

~fin~

[counselingwith]

You thought you knew pain but heartbreak has completely overwhelmed you. You can’t enjoy anything you enjoyed before. You want to start healing but you don’t know where to start and what to do. You just know you never want to get hurt like this again.

Eat, love & numb

Tackling pain is so difficult that most people avoid it by jumping into a hot new romance, or numb themselves with substances, food, work, exercise, or just by keeping busy. While this may blunt the pain, but if you have not taken the time to tackle the pain at its source it is likely that you will end up in a vicious pain cycle where you will date the same type of person with merely different names or date the right person but start seeing the same issues you were trying to avoid.

Paradox of pain

After a heartbreak, your natural defense mechanism builds necessary walls to protect you from getting hurt again. The paradox is that even though pain builds these walls, in order to feel deep love, joy, and fulfilment, in order to get out of the pain cycle, you must learn to drop the walls and try to love and trust again. It is very difficult to be vulnerable if the last time you opened up you had daggers thrown at your heart. However, if you can’t develop enough trust and safety to make this switch, you run the risk of staying in the pain cycle: You can’t succeed at relationships because you are worried about getting hurt, you get hurt because you can’t open up and give it your best shot, you get hurt so your defensive wall gets higher and stronger, perpetuating more pain and taking you away from love, joy, and fulfillment.

Rebuilding

As you pick yourself off the floor and start learning to trust again, this time around you cannot rely on anyone who can hurt you again. The reality of life is that you cannot control anything or anyone but yourself. This means that the only place trust should come from is ‘you’. The minute you start relying on people and things to fill that void and feel safe, you will set them up for failure. For example, if you start relying on other people, your work, or your success for your happiness, these things will determine if you are happy or not. In order to feel safe, you may start controlling others which never works and will only hurt your relationships. This blocks joy, creates confusion and chaos and makes you feel like you are on a perpetual emotional roller coaster. Here is what you can do to stop this craziness and take charge of your healing.

Be kind to yourself

Be honest about your pain. You did get deeply hurt, so have compassion and take care of yourself as you would take care of a young child who is hurt. Ask yourself, ‘what can I do to help you right now?’ and then get up and do it. Treat yourself as you would treat a jilted friend. If you have a good support system, take their help, but be careful of people who start taking over. Don’t depend on anyone. If you want healing and empowerment, the main work has to come from you.

Unsubscribe from perfectionism

Embrace the reality that perfectionism is ‘fake news’. It’s unachievable because it’s not real. It only causes pain and confusion and it prevents you from tapping into your real self where all the guidance and answers lie. Know that you are the only one who can hit the ‘unsubscribe’ button.

Forgive yourself

The first person you have to forgive is yourself. Organize your thoughts by making a list of what you hold yourself responsible for (e.g.: “I can’t believe I didn’t realize she was cheating on me this whole time”). Replace this list with things you would say to a friend who was beating down on himself. Write down statements of forgiveness: “I forgive myself for not knowing she was cheating on me”, “I forgive myself for not being able to protect myself from this pain”.

Let the past go

As you start to head towards healing and start recognizing what you did wrong in the past, don’t sit in anger, shame, or regret. Know that you did the best you could at that time, that those behaviors probably saved you from doing something more harmful. Respectfully let them go by saying, “thank you for helping me, but I don’t need you anymore” and kindly keep them aside. If you don’t do this, the guilt and shame will not let you move on.

Take Out the Head-Trash:

The forgiveness list gave you a pretty good idea of the head trash you carry that keeps you in a negative spiral. Tune into your self-talk. What are you saying to yourself? How can you connect with yourself so that you can take control of your thoughts and feelings rather than the other way around? Louise Hay’s mirror work gets you there faster and deeper, here is how I use it to help my clients:

1. Don’t Should all over yourself

Write down a ‘should’s list’ that has all the little things that gnaw at you as you are going about your day. I should _________ (lose weight, be happier, get over it). Now change word ‘should’ to ‘could’: I could lose weight, I could be happier, I could get over it.

This vocabulary:

Changes the mood of your self-talk.

Takes the meanness of ‘should’ out, it discourages perfectionism and thus allows creative thinking.

Calms you down enough to actually be able to tackle things on the list.

Reminds you that it’s in your hands and there is no need to be mean about it, you’ll get to it when you can.

2. Don’t criticize yourself and accept compliments graciously

After all, how can you respect and trust someone you can’t feel compassion and value. If you find yourself being mean to yourself (“Of course I dropped this coffee on myself, I had to mess things up somehow”), apologize to yourself with the same sincerity that you would apologize to a friend if you said the same statements to her. If someone compliments you and you undermine it or even put yourself down, apologize to yourself the way you would if you interjected with negativity when a friend was getting a compliment.

3. Show up for yourself

You cannot start relying on someone without proof that they’ll be there for you when need them. The next time you feel hurt, instead of calling a friend, reach out to yourself. Go to the mirror and ask yourself ‘what is bothering you’, and talk to yourself as you would talk to a friend.

You will find that ‘you’ are someone you can rely on, because no matter what you’ll find ‘you’ are always there for you. Say things to yourself in the mirror that you would say to a friend “Don’t worry, I’ll be there for you, we’ll do this together”, “I am so proud of you” or “I’m sorry I doubted you”, “I can see that this is hurting you, you are not alone, I’ll always be here for you no matter what”. Statements you always want to hear, but for the first time you can actually count on them.

4. Why the mirror? It’s weird and uncomfortable

Most of us are visual learners. It is much easier for us to tap into our moments of pain, fear, joy, and pride when we have the ability to see our micro expressions in the mirror. It helps us treat ourselves with the same courtesy and compassion we usually reserve for others. This helps us become better friends with ourselves. Once you have done this work in the mirror a few times, you can recall the expressions and the compassion when you don’t have the mirror as well. If you can’t get over using the mirror, for now, just do the rest of the work until you can get to a point where you can face yourself.

Warning

As you take on the task of managing your pain, please remember that this process is not linear. You can have a few perfect, strong days, then have a terrible day where you feel completely broken as if you have not made any progress at all. Expect the bad days so that when one comes you can say ‘I was expecting some bad days and today is one of them’.

One day at time

As you head on your journey, even though the random appearance of the ‘bad day’ doesn’t go away, it’s frequency and intensity lessens.

Get help

The chaos heartbreak leaves behind is very difficult to come out of, and if not done right it can lead to a lifetime of unwanted consequences. Share this article with your therapist and they will be able to guide you out of this turmoil in a relatively short period of time. Don’t let other people’s presumptions about therapy keep you from getting all the help you need as you tackle possibly the biggest pain of your life.

Learn more at https://counselingwithadifference.com

[ladymelissaduthe]

challenge #3.5

aka the animal shelter (jackson #4)

a/n: i must say-- writing has been tough for me the past few weeks what with school but I bring yall this fic before stuff goes down at the ball. enjoy this fic yall, IT’S ADORABLE.  @jackson-graham ;) Bri you know ily, thank you for this RP AS ALWAYS. Doc link is in the title. ENJOY, I also have some a/ns in the notes because Missy is too dumb a bitch to notice certain things and I can’t help but mention them . this is also my longest fic so far LMAO (9346 words)

An independent community engagement proposal.

Oh gosh, it was exciting to really have the chance to try and make a difference. Try to do something big and grand to really help people. It was a way for me to show everyone that maybe I didn’t constantly have weddings and parties on the brain. If I was somehow still here in the palace, even if my disastrous first date with Arin, I guess I needed to show everyone that I had more to offer than just being Missy the Wedding Planner. Something a little more princess material, yesiree!

Still, finding a cause close to my heart was more difficult than I actually planned. ­

I mean… it was difficult… to really figure out a struggle to help with.

One day, it just struck me though, while I was talking to my Grammy on the phone. Reminiscing about the long days we spent together at the Oncology center in Orleans. For all my years, maybe the worst struggle I’ve seen up so close to was having to go see my Grammy go through the Big C.

A part of me wanted to think of a way to help local oncology centers, and I had to think for a couple of good days until I realized something while sitting in the greenhouse. Somehow I was reminded of a previous conversation here.

This is going to sound weird but, what’s working in an animal shelter like?

It’s hard. Lots of animals, easy to love, but not easy to see what’s been done to them. Or witness how plenty of them are looked over for other animals.

A program that helped train shelter animals to be therapy animals for public spaces.

It was perfect, and I got to work with it as soon as I got back to my room.

Maybe I was a little way over my head initially, but after a couple of days, I was able to Joogle and contact who I needed to call, which is something not entirely new to me.

It was like calling a bunch of vendors for a party, except it wasn’t vendors and the party was a community project that wasn’t really a party.

The beneficiary partners of the project were going to be the East Angeles Oncology Center and one of the city’s main social centers. Convincing them was initially tough if it weren’t for the fact that I mentioned that I was a Selected. Talking about the project and how they could benefit from it was pretty easy after that.

The possible animal trainers were a quick reference thanks to a previous client of mine apparently being on its board of directors. No wonder their dog was their ring bearer.

 I needed a couple of them to help make a course that would allow the animals,

I just needed an animal shelter partner. Luckily, I was just waiting for another chance to see the right person to help me with that.

----------

“Jackson! Oh my gosh!” I wave over and try to run over to where he is.

It was a couple days of waiting, sometimes seeing an empty hallway and hoping I would see his face when I would turn a corner. I really just spent most of that time preparing my proposal, writing things down while hoping to get a chance to talk to him and ask for his help. Most days to no success. Today, however, was my lucky day.

Jackson seems to turn when he hears me call his name, stopping in his tracks with a wave back at me. I was careful not to trip in my heels as I ran over to him down the hall.

“Hi Missy.” He greets with a signature warm smile.

I catch up to him, though needing a moment to catch my breath. I raise up my hand for a quick moment. Ooo wait give me a sec to breathe. One Mississippi. Two Mississippi. Three Mississippi. Okay, good.

“I was hoping to see you again around here.” I push some of my hair behind, hoping it would let me catch the air better. “How are you?”

“Not too busy.” His brows raise as he eyes my stance. “You okay?” he gestures to my breathing.

“Oh yeah, I’ve just been… running around doing some errands.” I laugh it off, straightening myself.

Jackson was the person I needed to onboard if I really wanted my independent community engagement proposal to be real. Convince him, and it could all fall into place.

“So I was thinking, um... I’m working on this project. I mean— all the girls are working on individual projects for... community engagement. AND! I— I was thinking of... asking for your help on this one.”

Mayhaps explaining it all in one go was a poor choice. Nonetheless, all Jackson does is blink, his smile not vanishing.

“I’m happy to help, Missy. What’s up?”

I suck in a breath. Mayhaps asking this huge favor was a little too much.

Hmm... nah.

“I was hoping that I could ask you to take me to the animal shelter, the one you’ve told me before.” I look to him, trying to contain my excitement. This was the last piece of the huge puzzle.

Jackson looks pleasantly surprised. “You want to use the animal shelter for your project? Really?”

“I mean, why not use the shelter for my project? It could be the model for what I want to propose.” I feel my smile soften at that thought. I really wanted this to happen. “It could give the critters a second life and purpose beyond just waiting for someone to adopt them.”

That was something I definitely remembered from my last conversation with Jackson. Broke my heart to think about that again. Maybe that’s why I was so determined to get Jackson’s shelter to be the partner for my project rather than any other shelter I could call up in Angeles.

“Yeah. It really could.” His smile softens. After a beat, he shakes his head and looks down. Odd. “Um, are you allowed to leave the palace?” He looks up once more to me.

“Well—” I trail off, my own eyes falling to the ground. “I don’t think it would hurt if I was gone for one afternoon.”

As my Grammy always said, it’s easier to ask for forgiveness than to ask permission.

I tuck my hair behind my ears. Asking for favors was a little more difficult than both of those.

“What do you say Mister Jackson Graham?”

((ALRIGHT A/N: LEAVING HOW BRI PHRASED THE REPLY BECAUSE MISSY CAN’T PICK THIS UP BUT…. *CRIES* I WISH SHE DID

*AH HER SAYING HIS NAME THAT WAY. how could he not agree? finds himself nodding* Yes, of... of course))

Jackson seems to nod, “Yes, of… of course.”

I feel my smile grow at his agreement. It’s all falling into place! It just wasn’t going to be some things I wrote on paper!

“Thank you thank you thank you!” I step a closer to Jackson and—wait.

Okay.

Mayhaps… I shouldn’t give him a hug.  

I quickly tuck my hands behind my back, hoping that I didn’t look as awkward as I already felt. Um, say something Melissa.  

“You have no idea how much this means to me. I promise it’ll be worth your time.”

From the look on his face, he seems to know where I was initially going with my hands, but thankfully, he doesn’t seem to bring it up. All he does is chuckle.

“You don’t have to promise. I know it will be.” He then makes a gesture to a certain direction for us to start walking.

Oh, I didn’t think we were gonna go ASAP… but, the idea of getting to go to the shelter right away was something I wasn’t opposed to.

“Thank you so much again.” I nod a couple of times, smiling as we begin walking. I guess Jackson was wondering why I wanted to go. I should explain myself, or at least try.

“I just... I just want to know, understand, what it’s like.” I start off. Trying to find the right words to put it. Looking back at my life in Orleans, it felt like living in a nice little bubble where everyone seemed to protect me. Mama especially since she never wanted me to even see the hardship she faced when she was still a Six. “It seems easy to just write about a place on paper but, I feel like I should personally know what it’s really like in shelters. You know?”

A part of me knew that I never got to see a part of the world before, but being in the Selection. All those princess lessons. It all really could make a girl wonder about… well the world out there and the not-so pretty fairytale type of situations.

“I think that can apply to most issues like these.” Jackson’s head bobs slightly. “But I do understand. I’m glad you... you want to witness it all.”

I nod again a couple of times, “It’s a place to start, seeing things as they are currently helps you understand what they should be or could be in the future.” I eye him, wanting to tease him. “Lucky for me, I had the right person in mind to help me with that.”

Jackson laughs bashfully, looking down at his feet while we still walked. “Right. I’m just glad I can help.” He smiles in my direction before we take a couple of more steps and opens a nearby door, gesturing for me to go in first. Warms my heart to see that chivalry wasn’t dead, at least not with Jackson.

“Are you sure, it’s not too much trouble on your part? For all I know, you’ve got some important work today at the shelter.” I ask while stepping through the door, waiting for him to step through before we start walking down a narrower and less fancy-looking hallway.

“I have a light load today. And they’re always looking for new people to show around, they think it’s fun.” He sounds amused saying this.

“I hope they wouldn’t mind showing me around,” I say, my eyes scanning the hallway. I don’t think I’ve ever been in this part of the palace. It all looked so ordinary compared to where we were a couple of seconds ago. It still matched some of the accents of the hallway we came from, but it looked more normal, like a nice hotel hallway. I turn my attention back to Jackson. “How long have you been working there again?”

“Four years. Started working after I graduated from high school.” Jackson answers me right before we reach the end of the hallway and Jackson opens another door for us, one that lead directly to what seemed to be the garage.

“Guess you’ve become quite the regular there, huh?” I smile to him as I let him guide me, turning to the garage. Wow.  

It was like seeing the parking lot of some debutante’s 18th  birthday and all her crazy rich relatives were attending. Was that an Audi I saw? Plenty of nice cars lined up, a motorcycle at the end of the line. It was funny how the luxury of living in the palace still amazed me.

“I lucked out in that area. They’re good people too. You’ll like them.” Jackson leads me to where I assume he parked his car. I smile at the sight of him opening the passenger’s door of an ordinary-looking silver sedan. It reminded me of the one we had back home.

“The real question is: will they like me?” I joke before a grateful smile for his gesture, going inside—feeling my head bump against the frame in process. I let out an ow, before letting myself mumble that I was okay.

“Oo.” I see him grimacing, “Sorry, it’s a bit low. Sure you’re alright.”

“Yeah, totally fine.” I give him a quick thumbs up from the inside of his car, laughing to myself at how silly I am. “I’m just prone to accidentally hitting my head in cars.”

“I’ve been prone to much worse.” He flashes a crooked smile as he shuts my door. I laugh as I watch him head to the driver’s side, climb in and buckle up in a steady pace, setting his phone in the cup holder. I remember to buckle up too.

He starts his car, then holds out a cable out to me, “Do you… want to play your music?”

I look at the AUX cord he’s offering, and I offer him a polite smile.

“You don’t want to know the kind of music I like listening to.” I curl my lips in, trying to suppress the awkward smile creeping up my face.

Jackson raises both of his brows, with a chuckle. “You seem awfully sure about that.”

“You’re the first person to offer me the A-U-X cord in the longest time.” I shake my head, though maintaining a smile. “I think that says a lot already.”

Means my friends hate my taste in music, or are just really tired of hearing Show Tunes.

He shakes the cable a bit. With a small smile he says, “The offer is still out there for a few more seconds.”

His friendly smile was enough to convince me. I suppose I can’t quite say no to a friendly gesture like that, especially with someone already doing me a favor.

I let out a light laugh as I take the cord from him and slip my phone out of my dress’ pockets. “Please don’t make fun of me for this.” I give him a word of caution as I hook it up and tap over to my Dotify, picking the first song off of my morning playlist.

I glance up to Jackson, hoping he wasn’t going to groan at my choice.

RENT – RENT Live Cast. 

https://open.spotify.com/track/5ZFx5WIlDGbx2rJ2XZ9dQa?si=ChVHl9ljRUGj-Mi2-In8yw (yes the one Jordan Fisher was in)

The music suddenly fills the car with the loud percussion and electrifying guitar rifts of the show’s opening number, and I look over to Jackson gauging his expression while he starts reversing out of the garage and onto a driveway that probably would lead us out of the palace.

His smile grows the music plays, and I’m slightly relieved that he doesn’t seem to hate what I picked. Relieved enough to let myself take in the view of the coast to our right. I never noticed that the road followed the coastline when I first came here.

There was so much blue, as far as the eye could see. It was a view you could see from the terrace of my room, but seeing it move pass you while you were in a car… it was definitely something else on its own.

“This is Rent, right?” Jackson’s voice steals my attention back, and I find myself nodding enthusiastically.

“Yes! It’s,” my eyes glance down to my phone on my lap, “one of my favorite musicals.”

Probably my third favorite musical, right before Dear Evan Hansen and Waitress.

“I’m a Mamma Mia fan myself.” He half jokes in my direction, though his driving still impeccably smooth.

“Really? You strike me as more of a Hamilton fan.” I return the joke with a teasing look his direction, letting myself lean back and watch us drive more into a small winded hilly area.  

((get it,,, cause Jordan Fisher played Philipp/Laurens in Hamilton BJSNKD))

“Hamilton’s definitely  a close second.” His smile seems to widen at that, and I notice the car finally reaching a highway. That was fast. The car turns right and I find our car starting to merge with a dozen other cars on the highway. “But musicals are more my second choice of music anyhow.”

I turn to him curiously at that, “So what /is/ your first choice in music, Mister Graham?”

Another RENT song is starting to play, and I turn the volume down while we talk, wanting to hear him clearly.  

“More singer/songwriter material. Or the classics. Songs I can learn to play myself.” He glances to me, most of his attention on the road while our car started to merge with more traffic on the freeway.

“Oh,” I reply, not having quite pegged Jackson to be a musician too. A veterinarian/ animal shelter volunteer, and now: a musician. He was full of surprises, huh.“What instruments do you play?”

Jackson’s eyes still stay trained on the road. “Piano and guitar. My mother was a musician and I was the kid that managed to get it to stick.” He says, a half smile on his face.

I keep my head still turned his way, finding myself smiling at his reply. “Did she teach you how to play?”

He nods twice. “In the beginning yes. I progressed by myself throughout the years.” He answers before glancing over to me, “Do you play any instruments?”

I wish.

“Nope, I didn’t have anyone to teach me back in Orleans. No one in my family was interested enough in music for me to pick it up…” I answer, shaking my head with a light laugh. Just one of those things I wished I had picked up when I was younger, instead I had dance classes and competitions, kid pageants, and the occasional tag-along to a wedding.

Still, music was something that I wish I could have picked up if I had someone to teach me since the neighborhood I grew up was filled with little house parties where people would invite each other to listen to a mini concert. I only had a wedding planner, a former seamstress turned wedding planner, and a baker at home with me in the family.  

I laugh at that idea before adding a question for Jackson.

“So is your dad a veterinarian?” It would make sense if Jackson picked up his love of music from his mom and his love for animals from his dad.

“Lawyer, actually. We all went down different routes.” He answers, an amused lilt in his voice. So that makes his mom a musician, his dad a lawyer, his sister was an interior designer if I remember correctly, and Jackson: an aspiring veterinarian. Those were all very different routes indeed.

“Guess catching up with each other during family dinners would never be dull what with everyone doing their own thing.” I remark, imagining what conversations they’d have—definitely different from my own family’s, where Grammy, Mama, and I would be talking about the same things happening at DDW HQ. Not much variety, really.

“Absolutely never.” A short laugh escapes him, “Especially when I used to bring in little animals and hide them in my room as a kid.”

I cover my mouth, trying to stop myself from laughing too much at that mental image.

“Are you serious?” A snicker escapes me, feeling only more laughter bubble up from my stomach to my chest. “You’d try to hide little animals?”

He seems bashful about that admission, “It didn’t work out very well. Animals make noise and I didn’t know how to hide them without being noticed.”

“I’m still trying to imagine it,” A fit of laughter takes over me as I sit up straight in my seat and close my eyes to picture it even more clearly.

The mental image of a younger, much smaller version of Jackson hiding a baby bird in his jacket pops into my head. The bird making way too much noise as he creeps up the stairs, Jackson trying to go unnoticed. 

“You… probably trying to hide a little critter in your jacket.” I say with my eyes still closed, feeling myself smile at that image. I let out another laugh before opening my eyes to catch Jackson looking over to me. “It’s a no brainer you eventually grew up to become a vet.”

Jackson’s attention seems to linger in my direction half a second longer than he should take his eyes off the road before he turns forward again. I should probably stop trying to distract him from driving.

“I ruined plenty of clothes that way, actually.”

“A minor trade off.” I tuck some of my hair behind my ears, having been messed up while I was laughing probably too hard a while ago. “As long as you don’t hide animals in your jacket anymore.” I eye him suspiciously, obviously just joking.

His smile seems to grow, “Can’t show you all my tricks off the bat, now can I?”

“Guess I’ll have to keep an eye out for you in a jacket from now on.” I maintain my suspicious gaze over to him, trying to stay serious for a few seconds… and failing at that when another bubble of snickers escapes me.

“Not afraid of spiders are you?” He pats his pocket, sounding like he was just teasing.

But I could never really be sure if he was…

“You’re not serious…” I look over to his pocket for a second, before my hands instinctively go up and I move away to the edge of my seat close to the window.

Jackson laughs before putting his hand back on the wheel. “No, sorry, bad joke. I’m spider free for now.”

“Okay, great.” I relax before falling back against my seat and let myself laugh it off. “The last time I saw a spider, I shrieked.”

“Fairly standard reaction.” He sounds amused, “Although as a veterinarian, I have to care for and love all creatures.”

“Ehhhh, the shrieking was partially because of the location too.” I chuckle thinking back, shifting to make myself more comfortable in my seat. “Do veterinarians have one of those ‘do no harm’ creeds like doctors do?”

He hums, “You know I think they do. Seems like a necessary standard.”

It does sound like one.

“Where were you that a location made you shriek more than a spider?”

“You’re not gonna believe it but I…” A flashback of me accidentally falling through a bookcase’s earlier during the Selection. Remembering it all, it seemed more funny than scary, so funny that a laugh of disbelief escapes me. “I fell through a secret hallway back in the palace and I didn’t know how to get out.”

Jackson seems bewildered to hear this, “How’d you manage to do that?”

“Alright so,” I toss some of my hair back and get ready to share the experience.  

“I chose this one,” I hold a finger up, wanting to tell this story as animatedly as I can right now, “book on embroidery and I'm reaching for it and leaning against the shelf because it was pretty high up. Then, suddenly the shelf I was leaning against moved and I fell through it into this dark and dusty hallway, obviously home to a couple of spiders and a colony of dust bunnies.”  

A short laugh comes from Jackson. “Those secret passageways will really throw you for a loop if you’re not careful. You survived intact, I’m assuming?”

 “Intact but in a great need of a shower and change of outfit.” I laugh it off, jokingly squirming at the memory of the gross feeling of all that dust sticking onto me. “Arin was the one… who,” I pause, sometimes talking about Arin was more difficult than initially talking to him. “…got me out of there.”

The smile on Jackson’s face seems to falter after I bring up Arin. “Ah. That was… lucky then.” He pauses for a considerable time before asking, “How’ve you been? After everything.”

I try to find the right words to say.

I clear my throat once I think I’ve figured what was the right thing to say.

“Ah, well, definitely less crying.” My left hand seems to fidget with my ring on my right. “We went out on another…date…? I mean if that’s what you can really call it.” I try to laugh.

“Oh? How did that go?” Jackson’s voice sounds hopeful.

It was sort of an apology date in a way, about the last time. But doing things with Arin, well- they didn’t really feel like dates. Maybe I just… need time to get to know him better.

“Oh…” I look to him, hoping that none of my overthinking about it would show up on my face. “He taught me how to swim. I never really knew how to but I guess I can float and tread water like a normal person now.”

It was very kind of Arin to try and help me with that. Safety first.

“Despite anything else, I think you could call that a personal win.”

“I think so too. Anything next to normal is a win compared to last time.” I try to laugh again, this time wishing it would help with my nerves. A thought crosses my mind. The last time Jackson and I saw each other in person, I was crying over my disastrous first date with Arin. Did I ever thank Jackson for being there? Hmmm… I should probably thank him again just in case.

“Listen… thank you again for that night. I know I’ve thanked you before but—” I turn to smile in his direction, truly grateful for having him there. “it meant the world to have someone to talk to.”

Jackson seems to sit up a tad straighter, his attention going from the road to me. He nods once, “I um—well, I offer that as long as you’d like. Friendship I mean.”

He turns his attention forward to the road again, a small smile on his face.

The words Jackson and friendship seems to just make sense. I mean, being friends with the girls was amazing—especially with having girls like Itzel to talk to, but the idea of being friends with someone outside of the Selection was more than easy to agree to.

“Having a friend around is something I’d like very much.”  I smile over to him. “You’re the nicest person I’ve met since I got here.”

It was usually very rare to find the sort of genuine kindness Jackson had these days.

Jackson’s expression seems to become more bashful, “I’ve seen what this royal life can be like when you meet new people. I just… I’m glad I can provide some more normalcy for you.”

“Getting thrown into the royal life can really change a part of you.” A small laugh of agreement escapes me. “It’s good… to have people around to keep your feet on the ground. Maybe that’s why y’all seem to be a close bunch… I mean… your family and Uh… the Schreaves.”

“I don’t know.” Jackson seems to focus more on the road, switching lanes as I see an exit close by. “By now the familiarity has sort of blurred any kind of jarring reality checks.” he chuckles softly.

“I guess the jarring reality check can come along whenever you get out of the palace.” I laugh, looking out to my window. “This still looks so… different compared to what I’ve been seeing for the past two months.”

It was nice to see the city like this instead of just seeing the skyline from the palace rooftop. Angeles was so different compared to Orleans. Even their residential areas looked different compared to what I usually saw back home.

“Compared to the glittering walls and dresses?” Jackson asks in a teasing way.

“Definitely different. I can do away with the glittering walls.” I think, not being too in love with the idea with living in a place as big as the palace. “You can get so scared to walk around in those hallways since every single decoration looks like they’ll cause you an arm and a leg if you break ‘em. But the dresses?” I hum, smoothing the skirt of my yellow mini dress. “I can get use to this.

Not gonna lie, I loved my dresses in the palace the most among the Selected perks.

“They’re quite pretty.” Jackson says so as our car exits off the freeway. I feel myself smile at that comment, not sure why my face feels warm every time I hear something along the lines of that.  

Jackson stops at a red light, waiting if he can make a turn and doing so when the light turns green. I haven’t really noticed it but my playlist was playing another song from a musical, You Will Be Found from Dear Evan Hansen, the song softly playing in the background while we drive. I hum along with it as we drive. In the area that we are going through, it looks like a shopping center was nearby. It was bigger than most malls I’ve usually frequented in Orleans.

Oh gosh, I missed going to malls.

Unfortunately, Jackson drives past it, telling me that it’s not much longer until we reach the shelter.

Maybe another time.

“Anything I should know about the shelter before we get there?” I ask, looking over to him.

A knowing smile tugs at his lips, “I hope you won’t mind getting fur all over that dress.”

I chuckle at his advice, scrunching up my nose with a light nah.

We stop at a nearby intersection, and Jackson makes a right where the shops grow further and further apart the more we went down the road. In fact, there were more trees now. Before I really knew it, Jackson makes a left into a parking lot. Taking in the shelter from my window. It was quite big actually, bigger than I imagined it initially. A light blue sign with a paw print with the name:

Angeles Friends for Life Animal Rescue.

I push my hair out of my face when the car comes to a stop at a spot close to the front of the shelter. My hand finds the release button of my seat belt as I say, “Looks like you guys have a fine operation out here.”

A fine operation seemed like an understatement.

He hums pleasantly at that, “We’re lucky to have wonderful management.”

Jackson looks at me, “Ready to meet everyone?”

I unplug my phone from the AUX cord and hold it in my left hand, before looking back to Jackson with a smile.

“I’m always ready.”

Jackson seems like the sound of that answer, unbuckling himself from his seatbelt. E nods and gets out of the car and waits for me to follow. Once I’m at his side, he leads the way into the building’s main entrance into a lobby area. It was as welcoming as the shelter did look on the outside. There was a blue theme going around the room, matching the sign outside. On the walls of the lobby were pictures of what I assumed to be of owners with pets who I assume were adopted from this shelter. My eyes go back and forth between that wall and the huge fish tank behind to be what seemed to be the front desk.

As Jackson leads me to it, a head pops up from below the desk, one belonging to a young man our age. I almost jump at that.

His dark hair looked like it needed a comb.

He smirks at Jackson, then his eyes shift to me, his expression shifting into a beaming smile.  He stands, looking tall, lean, and well— handsome, but not quite my type.

“Jackson, my wonderful friend, now who would this be?”

My eyes go to look at Jackson, letting him reply first and I’m careful to not talk over them.

Jackson’s brows raise at that question. “Wonderful friend. Milking it, aren’t you?”

The young man clear his throat, “Come on now, I’d hate to be rude to your friend here. She’s—” he blinks and slowly points a finger between Jackson and I. “How.. what?”

Oh he must have…. Right.  

I was kind of famous now, famous by association, I suppose.

The conversation seems to go silent, so I take it as my opportunity to segue and step into the conversation. I’m mindful to make my tone friendly, trying to make sure that this isn’t awkward in the very least.

“Hi there! I’m Missy Duthé.” I extend my right hand out to him over the desk. “I’m interested in workin’ with the shelter for a certain project!”

He shakes my hand, his face still looking dazed. “Missy. It’s… wow. Great to meet you.” His smile seems kinder, but still looking slightly stunned. “I’m Merrick.”

“It’s my pleasure to make your acquaintance Merrick.” I maintain my smile before taking my hand back.

“I’m going to give her a full tour. Is Julianna swamped today?” Jackson asks, and my brows raise at that.

“No no, slow afternoon. There’s a couple looking at the dogs but other than that the place is yours.” Merrick says, his eyes shifting to me, still looking surprised.

I still don’t quite understand the weird fame that being Selected afforded me, but what I do know is that people shouldn’t really be treating me any differently. I try my best to exude a calm energy to put Merrick at ease that I was normal as any Illéan girl could be.

“I was just telling Jackson how you guys have such a fine operation over here.”

“That’s kind of you.” Merrick chuckles. “It’s been years in the making. Family business.”

Jackson gestures to Merrick, “Julianna’s his mom.”

So Miss Julianna, Merrick’s mom, must be the head. I take note of that. I also take note that the shelter is actually a family business, adds to its charm in fact.

“The one and very scary only.” Merrick gives a small glance to the next door, probably scared that Julianna was going to come out.

A chuckle escapes Jackson, “Careful or I might tell her you said that.”

I make sure to nod along their conversation, “So… I suppose Miss Julianna’s the one I’m supposed to talk to about my project?”

“Her or Jackson. He knows how to run the place better than I do and I grew up here.”

Her or Jackson. I smirk over to Jackson at that.

Jackson smiles at the ground before looking to me. “Yes, she is. She can answer anything I can’t.”

I push some of my hair back, still keeping my attention on Jackson. “Well, I didn’t know what my friend was so influential over here.”

“It’s the animals. They outvoted me.” Merrick says, I catch him half-smirking over to us.

Jackson rolls his eyes and mumbles. “Sure, alright.” He clears his throat before turning to me, “We can head back now.”

“I’m sure we can trust the critters’ judgment.” I giggle before nodding to Jackson, feeling my smile grow. “Where to Mister Jackson Graham?”

“We can start with the cat room, then work our way around the building.” Jackson says, and I follow him as he leads the way, clasping my hands in front of me.

“See you later.” He calls back to Merrick.

I hear a beep from the door and see Merrick wave over to us. “Have fun!”

“Nice meetin’ you!” I say turning to Merrick’s direction for a quick second, then turning my full attention to Jackson. “How many rooms are we talkin’ about?”

“We have four.” Jackson’s voice seems to almost be accompanied by the sounds of the barks and scurrying on the ground from the rooms around us. “Two dog rooms and two cat. One’s for the older animals and the other for the younger ones, but there’s a room in between where they can play with another. Outside for the dogs well.” He gestures around the hallway as we walk together.

There’s more pictures of animals on the walls actually, like in the lobby. More stories of adoption. I try to remember the info Jackson is telling me, trying my best to make notes. I find myself getting more distracted by the pictures in the hallway. One of the pictures almost makes me stop for half a second.

A boy my age, with blue eyes hugging a Siberian husky with eyes like his.

He reminded me of Daniel and Jewel.

I wonder if Daniel took Jewel with him to Waverly.

I shouldn’t think about this anymore, letting myself continue walking with Jackson.

“So you guys mostly accept cats and dogs ‘round here?” I ask, trying to push those other thoughts away.

Jackson hums a yes. “We’d like to have more animals, but we’d need a bigger facility. That’s Julianna’s dream.” A small smile appears on his face.

We seem to approach a door with a small window that Jackson peeks inside with.

“Looks like they just finished up their lunch.” Jackson says as I try to peek through the window too, not catching a glimpse as Jackson opens the door for us. I feel myself bouncing on my heels at the sound of all the scampering inside.

The door reveals a small area with a half wall that reached my hips, dividing the room between the small area and a much larger area. We walk over to peek over the wall to see a couple of staff members in the area, more than a dozen of little kittens playing with a few bigger cats, toys scattered around the area.

If there was one thing that could make my heart melt other than weddings, it was a room full of tiny little kittens. I look over the half wall, my eyes shifting from one cat to another cat.

Oh my gosh, there was a kitten rolling a little ball around. Oh my gosh, there were a pair wrestling with each other. I feel my smile only growing as I watch them play with each other.

A thought crosses my mind.

I turn to Jackson, a little shy to ask this.

“Can I pet some of them?”

Jackson smiles back at me. “Absolutely.”

YAY.

He opens a lower door attached to the half wall, telling the other employees that we were coming in. He leads me over to a sink close to the wall, where we wash our hands before we get to hold the cats. I let Jackson go first and follow right after he finishes.

Once we finished washing our hands, Jackson goes over and kneels with two employees and chats with them. I stand close to one of the walls, trying to go unnoticed, letting myself watch Jackson talk from afar.

This was Jackson’s element. It was actually really nice to see him in it. I don’t think there wasn’t a better job for someone as kind as he was.

After a few moments, he picks up a kitten with a grin and brings her over to me. I make sure to receive her and hold her tenderly in my hands, making sure to be gentle as I held her up. My cheeks are already starting to hurt from how much I was already smiling.

“Hewoooo, what’s your name sweetie?” I ask the kitten, before looking up to Jackson and mouthing how can they be this cute?

Jackson seems to laugh at that, “That one’s Ginger.” A couple of kittens purr around Jackson’s feet and he seems to pick one up, pressing a kiss to its head.

“Ginger! Ain’t that a darlin’ name!” My smile can only grow from here, while the kitten seems to purr as I hold her close to my chest and smiling over to Jackson and the kitten he picks up. She was a pretty kitten, with pure white fur. “Jackson, what’s the name of your friend over there?”

“This here is Lucinda. She has quite the spirit.” As if to prove his point, Lucinda opens her mouth to lightly nip at Jackson’s finger.

“Hello Lucinda!” I giggle, smiling down at Ginger trying to move as I held her, making sure to give her feet some needed support. It takes me a moment to remember my purpose for coming here to the shelter. Gotta balance this play with some more work. My hand starts to stroke Ginger’s head.

“So uh… all of these kittens are rescues?”

Jackson nods. “Some have been dropped off by people who can’t find homes for them, others have been found. They usually don’t last very long as people like to adopt younger animals.” My brows raise at that statement, then Jackson gestures to Ginger, “She’s getting picked up tomorrow by a nice family.”

My hand is lightly stroking Ginger as Jackson speaks, and I smile down at Ginger.

“Isn’t that exciting Ginger? You get to have a new family!” I scrunch up my nose when my smile grows, before I look back up at Jackson—still concerned with what Jackson said. “I take it that the next room of cats has a larger population then?”

Jackson bobs his head, “Not much, thankfully. Lately there’s been an uptick in older cat adoptions, to our pleasure.”

His smile at that is different than his usual smile, happier if that was even possible for Jackson.

I like it when he smiles like that, it made his handsome face light up even more. I think I was looking at him without saying anything way longer than I should.. I try to think of something to say. Staring was rude, now just say something. Quick.

“That sounds good!” I smile down onto Ginger, and she looked like she wanted to head over to the other cats. I then place a quick kiss on her head before I set her on the ground watching her scurry to the other kittens.

“Would you like to go see the older cat room? It’s about the same layout, but I don’t mind giving you a peek.”

“Of course!” I stand up and dust some of the fur Ginger had left on my dress. “I wanna see the whole place!” I think I sounded way too excited, laughing to myself to get a hold of myself. “I just... I wanna know what I’m writing about... who I’m writing about better.”

Jackson seems to let my words sink in and his smile changes from that bright smile to something softer, still a nice smile.

“I understand. I’m… I’m glad.” He says and I wait for him to say something else as his gaze seems to linger on me, but he doesn’t. Instead, he guides the two of us out and into the next room.

((One of the things that I can’t add because MISSY IS A DUMB BITCH: The two of them not noticing the employees in the area looking at the two of them like 👀 as they leave))

We spend about an hour going through the other three rooms, mostly me just playing with all the critters and giving them the attention they deserved.

Jackson and I walk down a long corridor, feeling myself smiling as we exit the older dog area.

“I don’t understand how not a lot of people would want to adopt the older dogs!” I laugh, thinking that room probably was my favorite. “Oh Daisy almost tackled me, but gosh! She was so sweet!”

“She really was.” He smiles, “Puppies tend to be popular in this area. Lots of families. We take care of the ones that aren’t adopted anyhow.” He says fondly before his eyes glances to my dress. “You really don’t mind all that?”

I look down and notice the tons of fur sticking to my yellow dress and shake my head as I try to dust myself off.

“Nothing a lint roller couldn’t fix.” I chuckle before running a hand through my hair and noting some pet hair flying away. “Besides, I can’t exactly do the work right without getting a little messy with the critters.”

He nods, “You um..” he gestures to my hair, “have a little clump caught there.”

“Oh?” I turn to Jackson fully, trying to shake it out and comb it out. “Did I get it off?”

Jackson bites his lip and shakes his head with a small smile. He reaches over to me and I stand still, keeping my eyes on him as I feel his hand tug the fur and flick it away. He smiles to me after he does and I can’t help but smile back.

“Thank you very much Mister Jackson Graham.”

From the corner of my eye, I catch some fur sticking to his shirt, on his shoulder to be more specific.

I decide to return the favor, simply brushing it off his shoulder before we start walking again.

“Now where are we headed next?”

Jackson clears his throat, “Well, I was going to take you to Julianna if that’s alright. I figured you might have some more questions.”

“It’s more than alright!” I look over to him as we walk, “There’s the background on the shelter, current problems y’all are facing, current numbers on a lot of things going around here. Of course there’s a lot of things to ask permission about too! I wanna make sure I can let the proposal really help around here... for real.”

“Really?” Jackson asks, looking surprised.

“If there’s one thing I know how to do right, it’s executing a plan.” I smirk to him, though believing with my entire heart that my plan should really be executed. “What’s the point of planning something if you don’t see it through?”

What’s the point of a proposal if you don’t plan on executing it?

What’s the point of a proposal if you don’t plan on marrying the girl? Whoops.

I push that thought away again.

Jackson’s voice helps with that.

“Yeah. You’re right.” He looks, well—it looks more like a stare now, seems hopeful. I hope I could really help with what he’s told me about with this proposal. He seems to really listen to my words, and it’s a comfort to know that he is.

I try to mirror his expression, happy to have Jackson’s attention. “Ya know, there’s more to here,” I tap my temple. “than knowing how to plan weddings and parties.” I chuckle lightheartedly as we reach a door and stop by it.

“Is this Julianna’s office?”

Jackson nods.

“It is.” He pauses, looking like he’s about to knock at the door, but instead he turns to face me.

“I’ve always thought you’re more than planning weddings and parties, Missy. Thought you should know.”

I blink a couple of times, feeling my face warm. Well, not just my face. Everything felt warm as his words echo in my head. I don’t think he knew what those words meant to me. I’m thankful that Jackson had turned his attention away as he knocks on the door. I try to get a hold on myself.  

Julianna calls out at Jackson’s knock and he enters first before I do, the two of them sharing a friendly greeting before Julianna looks over to me. Jackson then introduces me to Julianna.

I snap myself out and hope that the warmth I felt on my face didn’t show in a blush.

I move forward and extend my hand out to Julianna.

“Hi! Um, I’m Missy.” I wince, knowing that Jackson has already said my name but I try to remain calm. “I hope I haven’t come at a bad time.”

Julianna seems quite friendly as she shakes my hand from where she’s standing in front of her desk.

“Not at all. What can I do you for today?”

“Well, Miss Julianna, I’m currently working on a community engagement proposal—it's uh, a project for every Selected girl, you see-- and I was thinking of partnering up with this very shelter to be ground zero for operations.”

I look over to Jackson, silently hoping for him to tell me how I was doing. I don’t know why I’m suddenly tripping over my words.

Jackson nods once in my direction, an encouraging look on his face. I could hear him say you’re doing great with the way his eyes looked at me.

Julianna’s brows raise as she asks, “Really? What would your project entail?”

His reassurance seems to help me try to ground myself and focus on communicating this better, standing up a little straighter as I smile over to Julianna.

“I’m glad you asked.”

I take my phone out of my dress’ pocket and go through my Joogle Drive to open up the presentation deck I prepared, waiting for it to load.

“I call it Operation: Empawthy. It’s a training program for shelter animals to become therapy animals for local hospitals and community centers.” I explain as I hold my phone out for Jackson and Julianna to see. The little logo and everything I made popping up on screen, a little paw with the project title surrounding it in a circle.

“It’s been brought to my attention that... a lot of older animals that call the shelter home, and I was hoping of helping them find a purpose... beyond just waiting for adoption.”

Both Jackson and Julianna lean in to look at the presentation I made. I try to gauge their reactions. Jackson’s face seems to light up as I go through the initial slides.

Julianna seems to instantly smile, asking, “And you’d like to follow through with this? Long term?”

“Of course!” I smile at that question, excited about my plan of execution for this program. “Most of the operations and plan can be executed within the next few months.” I tap the screen and move onto my timeline slide.

I continue, “It could be executed I already have a nearby local oncology center and a social center who are willing to partner too,  and well—” My brows furrow at the next thing I say, “even if I'm no longer a Selected, it's still possible to execute, even without mobilization from the Schreaves.”

Even if I did get eliminated, at least one good thing would come from me being a Selected.

Julianna moves to walk around her desk over to where I am, and I’m surprise to feel her wrap her arms around me in a meaningful hug. I glance over to Jackson while she does, catching an expression I couldn’t quite read.

“You’re the answer to so many of my questions on how to provide for these dogs.” Julianna leans back with her hands on my shoulders, smiling. “We’d be incredibly happy to have you with us.”

I smile back at Julianna, taking both of her hands in mine.

“I'll send you the primers and plans I currently have. I'm more than happy to help in every way I can!”

Julianna’s reaction seems to give me a whole new understanding for generosity and kindness. For the first time in a long time, I feel like I got to plan something meaningful and grounded in something beyond weddings or parties.

I wasn’t going to lie, it felt freaking good.

“You’ll have to thank Jackson too for bringing me all the way here though.” I turn to Jackson as I say that. I definitely wouldn’t have thought of this fully without remembering what he had said to me.

Julianna waves a hand, “Jackson has my eternal thanks. Bringing you here only goes to show his incredible judgement.”

Jackson looks down with a smile at Julianna’s compliment, before looking back up at Julianna with amusement.

“Kiss up.” He says.

She reaches out and gives Jackson a side hug across his shoulders. “And not ashamed of it.”

I don’t get why Merrick would ever call her scary.

I can’t help but laugh at the banter between them, tucking my hair behind both of my ears.

“Incredible judgment indeed!” I nod a couple of times, clasping my hands in front of me. “Thank you for letting me loop the shelter into this. I promise you both this project isn't gonna disappoint. That's a Duthé promise.”

“I have a feeling that’s a promise never broken.” Jackson says softly, his smile very soft.

Julianna seems to pause briefly at that, her smile not faltering.

“Once we receive all your information, I’ll keep close touch with you. Everyone will be so thrilled.”

I turn to Jackson, looking to him with an amused expression.

“You’re right, it’s never broken.” I punctuate that with a wink to him before I nod over to Julianna and quickly slip my calling card out of my phone’s card holder.

I always kept copies of it in case I met a potential wedding client but, it would work for now what with all my contact details on it. Let’s hope Julianna would just ignore all the wedding planner details on it.

“This is my card, I'll be probably contacting you through the email and number here. If there's anything I can do to help, just let me know. We'll definitely keep in touch.”

Julianna takes the card from me and sets it on her desk with a thank you, then mentions to us that she needed to get back to work and Jackson excuses us. He mentions that he’ll be back in the evening as we leave her office before Jackson leads me back into the hallway. I don’t forget to say a quick thank you before we leave.

“That was… wow.” He says once we’re outside of Julianna’s office. I try to eye Jackson’s reaction before I let myself smile and do a little happy dance, unable to control how happy I felt.

“OH MY GOSH!” my voice seems to go up another octave before I reach over and give Jackson a hug. “Thank you so so much for bringing me here and helping me make this happen!”

Jackson seems to laugh as he catches me, and I feel his hand going to my back.

“You were the one with the incredible ideas. It was wonderful, Missy.”

((Another thing I can’t write BUT I SCREECHED: */like you/* he thinks))

I pull away from him, still grinning but feeling a little shy with Jackson’s compliment. My face starts to feel warm again. I try to ignore it this time. I’m probably just too happy with getting the shelter as a partner.

“I’m so happy that you think so. I just thought—” My phone suddenly starts to ring, an alarm going off as I quickly reach into my pocket to snooze it.

5:30. Prepare for Dinner. I see on the screen.

Jackson still watches me as I handle it, “Everything alright?”

I stuff my phone back into my dress’ pocket and nodding, not letting the alarm dampen the mood.

“Yeah! I just... have alarms for whenever I probably should change or get ready for dinner at the palace.” I explain with a little laugh. “As I was saying, uh...” I’m trying to remember what I was going to say a few seconds ago, but I’ve completely lost my train of thought.

“Okay honestly, thank you for the moral support.” I decide to thank Jackson again for being there, then I lower my voice jokingly, “Julianna... kinda did scare me.”

Hmmm, maybe that’s why I was stumbling over my words initially.

Jackson chuckles at that, “She’s a bit intimidating at first, but there’s nothing to be afraid of. She loved you.” I laugh lightly and try to shrug it off.

Then he gestures to the phone in my pocket.

“I guess I should um, be getting you back now?”

I nod slowly, feeling a little sad that I was already leaving the shelter. I think I’ve enjoyed myself here way more than I expected.

“Are you sure it’s too much to ask from you?” I wanted to make sure that he was alright with it, knowing that he was going to come back here anyway. He’s already done so much for me already.

He tilts his head. “Driving you to the palace? No, of course not.” A growing smile appears on his face.

“I’d love to.”

His smile seems to put me at ease, so I loop my arm around his and smile to him.

“Then I guess we better get going, Mister Jackson Graham.”

Jackson doesn’t say anything, only keeping his smile to me and leading the way back. 

[badgirlsinterviews]

The Depth of Humanity | Camila Sosa Villada | TEDxCordoba

Description

This talk was given at a local TEDx event, produced independently of the TED Conferences. Camila Sosa Villada began her career as an actress in 2009, when she was garnered international acclaim for the autobiographical drama Carnes Tolendas, the stage portrayal of a travesti. In this work, she fused acting, the poetry of Federico García Lorca, and her identity as a travesti. In this talk, she speaks of her journey as a young sex worker, and the incredible human beings which accompanied her along the way.

Transcription

You there- you’ve been with a sex worker before, right? I see a few familiar faces out there, but they aren't alone and I feel bad outing them like this. Anyway, you must have been through a red light district before. In your car, on your bike, you must have crossed paths with a couple of travesti sex workers, working on the street corner, or does this concept seem completely unfamiliar to you? Completely unfamiliar?

My father used to say that if you want to be happy you have to be a good person. He said that to be a good person, you must have a family and go to work. When I began to cross-dress when I was a teenager, my father put a curse on me, and told me that one day he'd get a knock on the door and that they'd tell him the news: that I'd been found dead, left in the gutter, because the only job I could hope for as a travesti was having sex with men for money. I'm paraphrasing because they won't let me swear, but he put it a bit more directly that that. He said I would die alone.And so, before the awards, before I became a cult actress, before I travelled around the world and discovered amazing places, before the prestige, and the affection people gave me, I ended up working as a prostitute, like my old man said I would.

I didn't end up left for dead in the gutter after all. The first time I did sex work, I was coming out of my university faculty where I was studying Social Communication. When I came to Córdoba to study I arrived with the personality traits of an Aquarius - highly emotional, very rebellious. I wanted to show my father that he was wrong about what he said. But I failed. Because every time I tried to find a so-called 'decent' job, like working at McDonald's or in a call centre, when they checked my I.D. and then took a look at me they became immediately brain dead, and refused to give me the job. So then one night, when I was leaving the university district a car stopped next to me, and the driver asked me how much I wanted.That was the first time I had to take a path towards my destiny and make a decision, and I got in his car. 

I started going around Barrio Alberdi at around 3 or 4 A.M. knowing that, at that time, my neighbours wouldn't be around to see me. I knew people drove around there, that drunk men would be leaving the bars. But working alone meant that I was exposed to many dangers. If it wasn't the police, it was the crazy people leaving the clubs, if it wasn't them, it was the group of beggars passing by. A travesti sex worker who worked in Dean Fuentes and Corro told me to go to a red light district and there I'd be adopted by other travestis. She said that, since I was a girl, they'd treat me like their daughter.

So I began to go around the red light districts that I knew about back then, which were la Cañada and Rioja, el Mercado de Abastos, and Sarmiento Park. Since I had always had an affinity for the trees which grow all on their own, without the help of others, Sarmiento Park was the option I was left with. Nowadays, people go out running there, they walk their dogs, they go cycling, they go there to make out,to eat sandwiches, but back then, the park was dark and it was used in order to get from one side of the city to the other, and it was where people looked to pay for pleasure. 

The first time I went there, I sat down on a bench close to a group of girls and travesti sex workers who were out working in front of the statue of Dante. I was listening to José Luis Perales on my headphones I saw how they immediately recognised me and they sent over a girl to figure out what I was doing there sat in the park. The truth is, I was very scared: the only thing I knew about red light districts was what was being shown on TV at the time. There was also that whole mess going on in Palermo where the neighbours wanted to get rid of the sex workers, so the images they put on TV were always awful. I basically felt a resounding terror, a huge amount of fear. 

She approached me - as the first girl in the group approached me, I realized that she was pregnant. Her stomach was huge. She had straight, black hair, that came down to her waist. Her hair was full of grass and so were her clothes, because she met with her clients there, inside of the park.I told her, "Hold on a second!" She asked me for a lighter, and asked me what I was doing there. She left, and told the other girls that I was Camila, that I was 18 and that I was trying to work there, the same as them. When I left that night, I was worried that they might to do something to me, that they'd get mad if a girl like me stole one of their clients. 

I went back the next day, and they all came up to me and introduced themselves. There was Gabriela, the pregnant girl; the other Gabriela, another travesti who was working there. She was enormous, almost 6 ft tall, and she spoke like Libertad Lamarque. She had such a womanly voice, like Libertad Lamarque. There was also Angie Desiré, one of the most beautifu travestis that I've ever met - and, by the way, there are some beautiful travestis in Córdoba! There was her cousin, Pilar, who actually identified as male but just dressed as a woman when he went to work in Sarmiento Park. 

And there was Cleopatra, who was like the pharaoh of that land, of that horrific inferno in front of the statue of Dante. She was a 6 and a half foot tall travesti. Her hands were huge, and she made such amazing roasts in her house in Alta Gracia. I mean, my father knows how to make good roasts because he’s spent his whole life making them, but this girl made the most delicious roasts I've ever eaten, and that I probably ever will. With her, I learned how much my body was worth and the price I should put on it.I learned how to defend myself, and to look twice at someone before judging them. I learned how to construct a weapon to fend off a client if things got ugly. It was made of a bar of soap and a razor blade, wrapped together in a hairband. You'd take it out like this and use it like a knife, but you could keep it in your purse or in your sleeves, or anywhere else. I never used it, but there were many times which I could have.

The only time us girls separated from each other was when we were with a client, or when the cops showed up. They're still as ineffective as ever, so just imagine what they were like in 2000 or 2001. We were no saints, so we obviously wouldn't just shut up and take it if the police provoked us when we got caught. We'd come home with broken septums, black eyes, misshapen breasts, so when we'd see the police arriving, we'd start shouting "The police! The police!" And we'd run off like a bunch of cockroaches scuttling away from a light, all of us, sprinting off through the park in our heels, because of how terrified we were of the police. 

I never figured out in which exact moment those girls became my true friends. I don't know exactly when they knew my birthday, nor when they knew if my heart was broken or whole, if I needed money for rent, if I needed money to eat, if I was tired, if I was in class. All my other friends, my uni friends, my friends from high school, my parents - none of them knew that, when class was over, I'd go to Sarmiento Park to work. Those girls did.

In that park, amongst the men who hired us, there were those who were old, young, skinny, fat, poor, rich happy, bitter, married, single, tops, bottoms. We didn't pay attention to the skin colour or the origins of those who sought our affection. And here I am at TEDx, trying, somehow, to put out an encouraging or inspirational message, although I don't believe in self-improvement - far from it. I accepted to do this talk firstly, because I needed to ask for forgiveness, for never trying to find those girls again. 

I never saw them again. And I wanted to tell you all about how Gabriela, the pregnant girl, would cycle to the park every night. She locked her bike up against a tree and did her job there, right next to it. And I thought about this shitty system, the reason for which two unborn children in a girl's belly are forced to attend such a spectacle. I want to ask if any of you have ever thought that there could be anything more concretely poetic than that girl working in Sarmiento Park, getting there and going back home by bike.

Perhaps I wouldn't be here at TEDx today, wouldn't have become the actress, or all of that, because I would have ended up in the gutter, left to die, like my old man said, if Cleopatra hadn't seen those two guys that hired me that one night. They came out of a club in Nueva Córdoba, and picked me up in their car, and when they realised I was travesti they began punching the crap out of me. From inside the car, while I was being beaten I saw Cleopatra coming, in her skinny, high-wasted jeans, a denim jacket which was cut off here, so you could see everything, the underside of her breasts a high ponytail, black hair, and her huge hands. She opened the car door, pulled out the two guys, and beat the crap out of them.

It was the first time in my life that anyone ever defended me. It was her - not my parents, my friends, my siblings, or anyone else, but her, who saved me from death that night. Maybe I wouldn't be here if I hadn't followed my intuition and hadn't arrived at that park by chance, guided only by my affinity for the trees that grow without the help of others. Thank you.