#anyways. it just seems weird how bothered my mom is about it.

[tatoda]

Guitar Pick | college!conrad x fem!reader

request

masterlist

part 2

summary: you go to Brown and maybe you don’t exactly fit in, but one brown haired boy makes you feel as if you do

pairing: college!conrad fisher x fem!reader

warnings: just fluff <3

wc: 800 (sorry it's short im getting back into things)

first con fic since last year :) a little rusty on the writing i apologize. sorry it’s not so long :(

It was the smell in the air that brought you comfort. The casual people-watching you would do as you walked down to the music store closest to campus— it wasn’t the best place to shop but it will do for the times you’re in Providence.

The ding of the door sounded as you walked through the store. The red interior with wood floors reminded you of back home, so that is why you kept coming back to the same spot every weekend. No one tried to bother you when shopping. Of course some boys would walk by and you’d glance their way, but they would never glance back at you the same way.

Picking up a guitar from one of the stands you sat down at the small corner couch. You have always loved playing any instrument, you would run around the house singing and hitting any object around the house to make drums until your aunt got you a ukulele at the age of 6 which took your dreams and desires for music to grow. Being at Brown surprised your family. They really thought you would just go to a music school, but you wanted to explore other career paths. Sometimes your parents weren’t proud of it but they supported your decision.

After a few minutes of strumming the instrument, you stood back up to get a new guitar pick. It was time for a new one— well that’s what you told yourself but you just loved shopping for new things. Reaching for a red and green one, another pair of hands reached for the same one.

“sorry.” glancing up at the voice, you see a boy maybe around your age, with brown eyes and brown hair as his cheeks turned a little red at the intersection

“no that’s my fault sorry, go ahead it’s all yours.” you gestured towards the pick.

“no, my mom raised me to be a gentleman. please take it.”

“i-“ but the tall figure cut you off

“please i was looking at another one anyways.” he looked down at you

“thanks, sorry again.” you softly grabbed it as he smiled gently at you before picking up a solid navy blue one

You didn’t think twice before you went to go pay for it and took off out of the store carrying on with your day.

The next day, you sat under a tree strumming your guitar just letting the nice weather hit for once. The shade of the tree helped you relax not being blinded by the sun. You were so busy strumming the instrument you didn’t realize the figure walking towards you.

“guitar pick girl.” the familiar voice called out making you stop in movement, the boy from yesterday. he was walking towards you wearing a Brown sweatshirt and sweatpants

“hi.” you softly introduced not knowing you would be seeing this boy again

“I’m sorry, i know it’s weird for me just to walk up like that and rude for me to not know your name. you left too quickly yesterday i tried to-to get your name but you were gone.” he played with his fingernails as he spoke

“sorry.” you smiled apologetically not knowing why this boy who you totally thought was cute was suddenly approaching you

“no worries,” he rocked on his feet “i-im Conrad, Conrad Fisher” he stuck his hand out to you and you lifted yours off the guitar

“y/n y/l/n” his eyes seemed to immediately remember the future

“how long have you been playing?”

“my whole life basically. you play?” he nods

“yeah just not too long ago maybe like a summer or 2, my mom wanted me to learn a song for her.”

“that’s sweet of you. you must be a mamas boy for the two times you have mentioned her talking to me.” you grinned at him

“yeah.” he sadly smiled and you didn’t feel like pushing him to ask about what it was all about “do you mind if i sit? you look like you need some company.” he gestured to the grass next to you

“all yours.” conrad then sat down next to you criss-cross

“what year are you?” he played with the grass that was in front of him

“junior, what about you?”

“sophomore.” you nodded and you both went silent but it wasn’t a bad silence, it was comfortable

“could i take you out sometime?” your eyes drifted over to conrad and his eyes went wide “sorry! i didn’t mean to come off so strong, i’d just like to get to know you better.” you looked down at his hands as they played with the grass faster and you put a hand over his to stop his movements

“i’d love that.” his eyes went to your hands and his visible relaxed

“i just thought you were really pretty yesterday.” that sentence made you blush and look down biting your lip

“i thought you were pretty cute too, conrad.”

[nikibogwater]

Everybody sit down and strap in, 'cause I have a doozy of a tale to share.

I've had anxiety for literally as long as I can remember. I've had periods of my life where it was so intense it became legitimately life-threatening (don't worry I promise this is going somewhere funny). And this was really bizarre because I have zero childhood trauma. Like, my family life is so idyllic it's almost comical. Therapists would do abuse screenings on me and look utterly baffled when I told them everything was fine at home. They'd interrogate my parents just to make sure I wasn't lying. I have one friend who I'm fairly sure believed I was just severely gaslighting myself when I said my family was great, school wasn't too stressful, and I've never lived in a dangerous neighborhood or experienced poverty.

Anyways, despite no one being able to figure out where my disorder was coming from, my doctors were able to help me manage the symptoms so that I would like, not die, and actually be able to finish high school. Which was awesome. Now fast forward to late 2021. My big sister (who has also had intense anxiety her whole life which no one could figure out why) is finishing up her doctorate and getting her physical therapist's license. Somehow, during all her studying and schooling, she finds out about this thing called Ehlers Danlos Syndrome, which explains literally everything that was going on with us. EDS is a connective tissue disorder that kinda fudges up your body in a whole bunch of little ways, including dysautonomia (episodes of very fast heart-rate that kick your body into fight-or-flight mode), and hypermobility (unusual flexibility). It's a spectrum disorder, so the severity of symptoms vary from person to person, but we definitely checked almost every box on the diagnostic list. My sister went to see a specialist, and yep, she was diagnosed EDS positive. She immediately calls my mom and goes "I know what's wrong with Niki" (thanks, sis, that's real encouraging lol). Initially we're like "okay Katie, that's nice" because honestly this kind of sounds like jumping at shadows, but I go in to see the specialist anyways just to make sure.

One consultation and diagnosis later, and suddenly my entire life makes perfect sense.

Now we get to the funny part. See, the diagnosis stuff happened in early 2022. So by the time late 2023 comes around and we're looking for a new dog (I promise this is relevant), we've been riding that chronic illness diagnosis for a while. Once again, my sister, ever the proactive one, decides she's going to help us get a new dog. She scours the adoption website, sends us photos of the cutest dogs available, and helps us make a decision. This is how we got Beverly, who has been an unstoppable force of chaos in our lives ever since we signed the papers (but she's also really cute so she can get away with it). Now on top of being a very excitable and anxious pupper, Beverly's got a weird little gimp in her hindquarters, which makes her sit all splayed-out and funny-looking, and while it doesn't seem to be causing her pain, we take her to a vet to get it checked out. Vet finds absolutely nothing. X-rays are taken and examined. Still nothing. At this point, they go "well, we could try a CT scan of her brain, which would run about $5,000, and maybe we could find something--" but my parents are already packing this dog into the car like "well that is a HARD nope." So we decide, look, Beverly seems happy and healthy, and those gimpy legs don't seem to bother her, so we'll just leave it be until it becomes clearer what's wrong with her because we do NOT have a cool $5,000 to throw around here.

Readers more astute than my family and I will likely have already figured out where this is going.

This morning, my mom is looking at Beverly sitting in her funny sprawled-out way, and something in her brain goes "wait...weird physical symptoms with no tracible cause that vets can see..." She does a bit of googling. Can dogs have EDS/Hypermobility? Yes. Yes they can. And the listed symptoms describe Beverly to a T.

So not only is my sister the one to finally figure out what's wrong with me, she also unknowingly got us a dog who has the exact same chronic condition as us. Meanwhile my poor dad, who is the only Normal Person in our house, is coming to terms with the fact that he is apparently just fated to always love chronically ill people and animals, and there's absolutely nothing he can do about it.

[keen-li]

Two liars are about to kiss

F2l

Fake dating?

Warnings: cussing, smut. (I'm too tired to add detailed warningsbut the is the basic)

18+ MDNI

Wc. 4k

A/n: just a quickie, I don't think this is as good as I want it to be so yeah whatever.

....

"Be my girlfriend " jungkook spits out sharply. You snap your head so quick you might've snapped it.

"What the fuck jungkook " you knit your brows so tight they might touch.

" y/n relax" jungkook rolls his eyes at your reaction. "You're being dramatic"

You pull back "dramatic? You literally asked me to be your girlfriend just before going into your parents' house."

"Y/n are you going to be my girlfriend or not" there's no warmth in his words as it should be when you're asking someone to be your partner. 

You lean back against the car seat and think. You know jungkook and he's not asking you you be his girlfriend cause he loves you, he's doing it cause he did something.

"Did you lie to your parents that you have a girlfriend?" You can feel the laugh build up in your throat. And by his embarrassed face you know you're right.

He's face grows even more embarrassed when you laugh.

"Why the fuck would you do that" you say through a laugh and he's not feeling it.

"Y/n stop" the embarrassment embeds itself in his throat.

You shrug your shoulders giving in to his plea for mercy.

"My mom was bugging me about it so I'm just doing this so shut her up" he finally meets your eyes and you can see he's being genuine. You kinda feel bad for laughing now. No you don't.

"It's just for the weekend though. Then later in we can just lie that we broke up and by the next time I see her maybe I'd have a girlfriend " he looks at your face and he can't determine if you're pitying him or feeling sad.

"What's wrong?" He says. You didn't even realise that your face had fallen.

"No. Nothing " you smile. "The thing is will they believe. We've been friends for a long time I doubt they would believe"

"Don't worry about that. My mom has always suspected we liked each other anyways" he mumbles out like it's nothing.

"Ew" you turn to look out the window.

You don't see it but you can feel jungkook stare at you.

"What do you mean ew "

You open the car door. " I mean EW I could never like you" you blunt out. "Now let's go in boyfriend " it feels weird saying that to jungkook, but it doesn't mean anything so it doesn't matter.

You shut the door and jungkook watches you walk to the door to his parent's front door. He snaps out of watching you when you turn to call him over with a face feigning anger.

He smiles before locking the car.

He knows you've agreed to help him but he still doesn't know how you feel about it. Does it bother you?

You flinch when you feel jungkook's hand on your lower.

"Ready babe?"

"Ready" you smile hoping your artificial blush is hiding the real one.

....

"I knew you two would start dating eventually " jungkook's mother says across the dinner table.

Jungkook cringes feeling the awkward conversation coming up. You cringe at the sad fact that all of this is a ruse and she seems so happy about it.

"Keep this between the two of us y/n" she whispers to you but every could hear "I preferred you over all of his other girlfriends. I was just waiting for him to grow a pair and ask you out"

"You're such a beautiful girl y/n, can't wait till you're Mrs Jeon too" she giggles out.

"Mom" jungkook calls out. "Too fast"

"Whatever, just marry her" jungkook groans when she says that.

"Mrs jeon I appreciate the compliment and the wonderful food. But I think I'm going to head to bed now"

She stops you when you try and take the dishes.

"I'll deal with that. you and jungkook should just go settle down in his bedroom"

You feel bad for letting her do the dishes but she insisted. You nod and walk to the bedroom.

Jungkook turns to his mom "please take it easy with y/n"

She looks at him with a smirk as if she doesn't know what he's talking about.

"It's her first relationship" he adds.  He knows it must be weird for you pretending to be in a relationship when you've never been in one.

You've caught yourself in flings and situationships but they've never made the relationship official so you just gave up. You've always wanted to be in a relationship,  be a girlfriend and eventually a wife, but people in this age are never into that. So you've sat waiting to find someone who wants what you want and sometimes you're jealous of how jungkook wants to be in a relationship but he says he hasn't found or can't find the right girl.

So you're both just chilling waiting for your perfect matches.

"You're sleeping on the floor right?" You ask him when he walked into the room.

"Yeah" he says and you immediately through a duvet on the carpet next to the bed.

"Damn. You don't want to share a bed that bad?" He whines.

"We've never shared a bed here. And plus you always say you'd take the floor"

All the times you and jungkook have visited his parents he's always taken the floor and you the bed. It's normal but now it's different cause you're "Dating" so you wonder if it'd be weird to not share a bed. You don't want to ask him though, don't want to seem like you want to share a bed with him.

"Don't you think it'd be weird if we don't share a bed?" Jungkook asks and you're glad it's coming from his mouth.

"I don't know maybe?" You say wanting to be nonchalant.

"I think we should share the bed" he dips the bed multiple time to check if it's still springy, it would've been a normal act if he was doing that without looking at you like a lion about to strike.

His gaze makes you heat up and glance at all things in the room apart form jungkook. But eventually your eyes meet and he's grinning.  He's fucking with you.

"You can just take the bed if you want it so bad" your words come out a little sharp cause of how flustered you are.

You walk over to the little set up on the floor and lay there.

"Yes I want the bed but I want it with you" he rushes out before thinking, he stutters after catching what he's just said.

"I don't mean it like that, I mean I think we should share the bed or my I'm will think something's up"

You get what he's saying but after what he's from blubbering out you're afraid sharing a bed would cross a boundary.

"I think we'll be fine she won't see us. It's not like she'll just walk in" you turn your body to face away from jungkook as you get comfortable on the floor.

"You didn't have to sleep on the floor you know" he says laying on the bed staring  at the ceiling.

"I'm fine like this" you say and the room goes silent.

You almost fall asleep but then you hear the door open and outside light come in. You think it's jungkook until you hear his mother's voice.

"I thought you guys would need some more blanke-"

"Mom!" Jungkook calls out and you sit up.

"Why are you two sleeping separately, the bed is big enough" she asks. "Did what I say offend you y/n"

"No no Mrs jeon, I just-" You're cut off by her angry voice.

"Did jungkook do something? " she shoots daggers at him.

"No, he didn't"

"Cause if he did I'm going to deal with him"

"Mom I didn't do anything " he defends himself.

You chuckle a bit.

"I'm talking to y/n, not you jungkook " your laughter drops to seriousness when she turns to you.

"What did he do?"

"He didn't do anything Mrs jeon, I promise " jungkook can hear the smile in your voice and you can see him roll his eyes.

"If he didn't then why are you sleeping separately"

You and jungkook both stummer with your words not knowing what do tell her.

"Jungkook is too hot" you spit and regret how it sounds. Jungkook looks at you like 'is that the best you could come up with,  but thank you :) "

You roll your eyes.

"He radiates off alot of body heat, I've been telling him to go see a doctor" you lie. Jungkook's mouth hangs open at your ability to lie to his mother face.

She nods.

"I understand.  But you should've let himsleep on the floor instead"

"I know but I just felt bad about keeping him from his childhood bed" you pout.

Jungkook can't fathom how you're able to lie right now.

"Okay then I'll leave these here. Have a good night " she says and walks out. You assume it worked cause she doesn't fuss over it.

The room is silent until jungkook speaks.

"You're such a liar "

"Would  you have preferred me saying the truth?"

He chuckles.

"So we're sharing the bed from now on? "

"Yep" you say and move to the bed where jungkook makes room for you. You're only doing this so you don't let out the secret.

"No touching" you warn him with a finger up.

"Wasn't planning on it"

He sure wasn't planning on it but he never said he didn't think of it.

...

It's 5am and you're awake. Not by your own will but by the fact the you woke up to jungkook's arm around you and you felt so comfortable.  He's hold felt so warm and comfortable, it shouldn't have. You're crossing a boundary and what makes it worse is how comfortable it feels to cross that boundary.

Bymthe time you're done getting ready for the day it's 7 am, jungkook is still asleep and his mom's making breakfast so you go downstairs to help.

You're helping her and chatting when jungkook walks into the kitchen. You don't know where his shirt has disappeared to but its gone. You watch from the corner of your eye as he walks towards,  you think he's going to walk by you until he's by your ear.

"Play along " he whispers and you're taken aback when he kisses your cheek.

"Morning baby" he says and that name numbs your tongue and you can only muster to spit out a whisper

"Morning" your stomach is in shambles. He has his hand on your back.

"Morning mom" he says still rubbing your back and causing you butterflies.

"Goodmorning" she says to him grinning at him. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah but i woke up alllll alone " he glances over to you and you roll your eyes and look away.

"That's a shame" you say sarcastically.

"Yeah it is" he shots back

His mother takes the breakfast to the dining room, leaving you and jungkook.

You think he'd let go of you and move away but he only gets closer.

"Smells good" he mumbles out.

"Oh yeah I think it's the spices " you try and keep your calm and not show him how much he's affecting. You're human and at the end of the day its hard not to react when someone is this close to you, whether it's jungkook or not.

"I wasn't talking about the food " he says by your ear and the chills run across your skin. "I was talking about you." His voice lowered plus the closeness is a killer combo.

"What do you use? I've always wanted to tell you how much I like how you smell"

"Uhhh" you move away pretending to be looking for something. "It's just some cheap perfume"

"Well it smells good" he goes back to his normal tone. He knows he's got you by the tongue so he smiles.

You just awkwardly chuckle.

"Jungkook leave y/n alone for now, she's helping with with breakfast" his mother walks in.

Jungkook raises his hands in surrender. " I'm not doing anything"

"Your father is already in the dining room go join him and have breakfast " she kicks him out. But before he leaves he gives you one last look. A look you can't decipher the meaning,  it almost feels flirtatious. No, you're just in your head. He's just playing a role, jungkook wouldn't flirt with you for real.

While sat next to jungkook when eating breakfast you can barely hear what he's saying cause you're still thinking of what happend in the kitchen,  you still have the butterflies.  And jungkook's hand on your thighs doesn't help settle them.

You feel him squeeze your thighs and it brings you to reality.

"Are you okay?" He whispers for only you and you just hum.

"Yeah I'm fine" you don't seem fine.

"Am I doing too much. Can you not handle me?" He smirks.

You scoff " You're not doing too much and I can handle you"

Jungkoook raises a brow. "can you?"

You nod.

"We'll see about that" he says.

Is that a challenge? You know know jungkook loves those.

He takes his hand off your thighs and your smile drops(unintentionally) from the loss of his touch.  But atleast you can eat without choking with every swallow.

You and jungkook haven't spoken much today, cause you and his mother have been out doing errands. Right now you're at the market picking some vegetables for dinner tonight.

"What made you say yes to jungkook" you almost didn't hear her over how hard you were gawking at the fruits.

"What do you like about him" she repeats noticing your distant gaze.

"Uhh" you find it hard to find your words. As a friend you know why you like jungkook.  He's funny, he's a great listener, he's kind, he knows how to handle you ( you mean your personality)

But as a boyfriend you have no idea what you like about him. He's not even your real boyfriend.

Plus isn't what you like about him as a friend the same thing as a boyfriend.

"He's caring,  he knows how to listen, he understands my humour" you say to and lose yourself in the thought of jungkook and he's mother can see that. It honestly makes her smile to see someone so in love with her son and to see the person her son is in love with.

If only she knew you guys were only friends,  what would she say.

"I also like how we get along and how he makes me laugh and how he handles my personality.  I like that alot" you smile and immediately catch yourself.  You seriously can't be smiling at the thought of jungkook. You've realised you've never actually thought of why jungkook is your closest friend and why you run to him for almost everything that happens in your life.

Anytime someone  breaks your heart you go to jungkook for comfort. Anytime you're stressed, you call jungkook.

You think about maybe that's why he can't find a girlfriend cause you're always calling him. Jungkook is such a good  looking guy you don't think it's that hard for him to find a girl who he can get along with. Maybe you're a pussy blocker. Shit have you been keeping jungkook from finding a girlfriend?

Cause he just says he can't find a girlfriend but you've never seen him actually put in the effort except with one.

You remember one time trying to push him to download a dating app, he did but next time you checked he hadn't even logged in and later he deleted.  You didn't want to ask or bother him about him so you left it.

"I just wanna focus on you right now, you need me and I need to take care of you" is what he told you one night when you came crying cause of your first situationships that had torn you into shreds. You couldn't remember those words after that until now, cause that day you were in shambles and couldn't hear a thing.

"Jungkook told me the same about you " her words break you out of your thoughts. What did jungkook tell her about you. " He also told me how he loves how you complete him. He feels incomplete without you"

Did he really tell her that. If it's true this might get complicated.  Cause you can barely say what you feel. This was a huge mistake, you're fucking things up. If he told her that, does he feel the same or did he just say it to play the role. He was just playing the role, but that wouldn't make you feel any better.

"He really loves you, I can tell" she adds and you sigh.

This is going to be so fuckung awkward when you 'break up'

" I have everything i need, we should head home now." She says and and you just follow her.

In the way home you've just been thinking about whether jungkook could actually like you or this is just an act for him. If it is, he's really good at it. And it's really confusing you.

You settle the bags down onto the counter and as you do you feel arms wrap around you waist.

"How was it" his low voice speaks on your neck

"Huh?" You say barely able to focus on words with the way his hands are rubbing up and down your hips. This feels to natural,  too domestic.

"How was shopping with my mom" he kisses your shoulder and you can't bring yourself to stop him.

"It was fun, I enjoyed going out with her" his nose runs up and down your neck. Jungkook can see your chest rise and fall and it encourages him to continue.

"We talked about you " you tell him.

"Oh? What did you say about me?"

"Jungkook" you gasp when he turns you around to face him.

You look into his eyes and they stare back at you, with desire and  determination to show you you can't handle jungkook.

"I missed you" he spits out and you narrow your eyes. You don't know whether he's saying it as a friend or a fake boyfriend.

"Why you looking at me like that" he moves his face closer to yours. "Can't I miss my friend or girlfriend "

Now it's frustrating you. All the emotions and feelings.

It's whilst you're having your thoughts that jungkook takes you by surprise and kisses you. His lips linger on yours for a few seconds before you pull away. if you were afraid of crossing a boundary you should be petrified by now.

"I need  to get changed" you move away from him and jungkook can feel the shift in the air. He's confused he thought this would work and make you warm up to the idea of actually being with him

But he guesses he came on too strong and now he's pushed you away.

During dinner you were low and didn't speak much, your silence even rendered a concerned look on jungkook's dad's face, who you haven't spoken to much this weekend.

After dinner you went straight to lay in bed and just stared at your phone.  You can barely do anything apart from think about what's going in with you and Jungkook.

"Hey" you hear jungkook's sorrowful voice speak.

"Hey" you reply just as sorrowful and sit up with the blanket over your legs.

Jungkook stands by the door with his hands in his sweats, he contemplates whether he should talk about what's on his mind. But if he wants this weekend to end the way he wants it to then he should talk about it.

"Are you okay?" You ask him watching his far away gaze.

"Y/n what's wrong? " he asks instead of answering your question.

"What do you mean? " You shuffle in your seat.

"You haven't been okay since-" he stares out the hallway for anyone and close the door. "-ever since what happened in the kitchen"

Jungkook slowly walks to the edge of the bed.

"Is it because of this fake dating thing,  did I make you make you uncomfortable? "

You shake your head. "Not it's not that, I fully accepted this fake dating thing "

"Then what's wrong,  I can't take you ignoring me" he says the last part almost pleading.

It's time to get it off your chest then.

"I just can't tell if your doing this, the kisses, the touches , the pet names. For show. It's really confusing and I don't even know why I think otherwise." You sigh "we should've honestly talked about boundaries before we did this."

Jungkook agrees that boundaries should've been talked about,  but he doesn't want boundaries. That wasn't his plan.

"Jungkook can you tell me something?" Jungkook hums to let you know to ask him what's on your mind. "Am I the reason that you haven't gotten a girlfriend, cause I know you and lia would've probably been married now if-" you can't finish your statement but he knows what you're trying to say " Am I a hinder to any your relationships "

You're not a hinder cause he only wants you.

"Y/n don't call yourself that" he moves closer to you. "Lia and I didn't work out and it wasn't your fault." He has his hand rubbing on your knee to comfort you.

You sigh and feel the tears coming.

"No no y/n. Don't" his hand cups your cheek and you start to sob.

"I think I fucked this up. I think I like you more than a friend" You mumble and you're shocked you had the guts to tell him. "I'm sorry I've probably fucked up our friendsh--" your shut up with Jungkook's warm lips on yours.

"You haven't fucked up anything.  I'm the one who did., I  should've just told you that I liked you instead of using lies to swoon you over " his thump wipes away a single tear on you.

"I'm sorry for putting you in this situation, i- " this time it's you who shuts him up with a kiss.

Jungkook relaxes into the kiss.

"Wait" jungkook pulls away "are a okay with th-"

"Jungkook please just kiss me, no more talking" your lips meet again and this time jungkook takes full lead.

Your head lands softly on the pillow as he hovers over you, taking every move to move deeper into the kiss.

Carefully your hand moves to his neck and then into his long hair.

The kiss feels like a long awaited quest that has been completed but that has also began a new quest. It's like something that you've been waiting for and now that you have his lips against yours something in you feels completed. Satisfied.

You feel lost and at peace in this,  his breathy kiss, his body between your thighs, his large left hand under your shirt searching for treasure and right hand stroking the back of your neck. His thump lifts your head up for a better angle to deepen the kiss.

You both can barely breath but jungkook couldn't care less, he wants to feel you, each and every part of you, he wants to find a part of you in this kiss. Jungkook knows you well, you were friends before this after all. But there just some things you can only find out whilst kissing.

Jungkook grunts when he feels you tug at his shirt.

So you're the eager kind, he smiles. He ,over away to take of his shirt and you both take the time to catch your breaths. You admire jungkook's toned torso and his inked arm, you've seen him shirtless before but seeing him under this light feels different,  it feels hot.

"your turn" he says and watches your boobs spills out as you take off your pajama top.

"Fuck. You're so beautiful " your stomach clenches at his words.

He doesn't waste anytime and has his lips around your nipple. You moan at the wetness of his tongue.

While his other hand massage you , he uses the other to move into you panties.

Your breath hitches at the cold sensation of his fingers.

Your hips grind in rhythm with jungkook's fingers. You can barely keep your mind or body straight as the sensations travel through your body, your back arches as you gasp in air.

"You're so pretty baby" he whispers and watches you squirm. "So fucking pretty" he follows your lips until he captures them and has you gasp into his mouth. You take in eachother's breaths. You can feel yourself melting against jungkook's fingers.

He adds pressure and you whimper.

"Jungkook " you whine out and he already knows "fuck I'm  going to..." you trial your sentence off with a moan.

You're almost close when you suddenly lose the sensation.

"What the heck " You're about to cuss him out when he speaks.

" I want you around me first " he leaves a peck on your lips.

Soon the sensation is back as he bucks his hips back and forth.

You can feel yourself getting pushed over the edge with each stroke.

"Please jungkook " you whine and he knows what you're pleading for.

"I got you baby" he whispers by your ear.

Soon you can feel the strong intense pleasure wash over you, you call out jungkook's name at your end.

Soon he follows after you in his release.

Jungkook peppers kisses down your neck, not ready to move away from you.  You keep your hands rubbing his back.

"Can you be my girlfriend.  Like for real this time" he asks against your neck.

" I'd prefer if you asked me when we're not from just having sex" you chuckle and he hums out agreeing.

"Then I'll take you on a date, and swoon you over with my charm."

You laugh at his cockiness.

"What about your parents?" You ask.

Jungkook shoots his head up from you, which takes you by surprise.

"My parents? Do you think they heard us?"

Your jaw drops to the floor.

" We were pretty loud they must've heard us"

"Jungkook oh my gosh,  this is so embarrassing." You cover you face "how am I going going face them tomorrow "

Jungkook watches you blush embarrassed and chuckles.

"Atleast we dont have to lie anymore"

[tomieafterdark]

hate fucking with Eren drabble..18+

want more? I got you<3 here’s my masterlist

pairing: Eren x fem!reader

cw: hate fucking, sex through the prison bars from that one season 4 scene, no prep but reader is wet enough by just seeing Erens drastic glow up, vaginal sex, ass slapping, choking, hair pulling.

a/n: I haven’t watched season 4 properly and that includes this scene so if something is missing you know why😭 anyways enjoy this drabble, I am having a writers block kinda so I am stuck on my requests and longer fics rip.

Hange just came back up from asking Eren some questions, it seems she didn’t have much of a breakthrough though.

“He kept babbling on about fighting…” she said and sat down with the others. She looks disappointed as she continues explaining what else had happened.

You wanted to go down and check on Eren knowing damn well Eren despises you. Ever since you first met, you’ve had this weird energy of constantly competing or tearing each other down. Deep down inside maybe you were just looking for a way to let out your pent up anger and sadness, to tease Eren or full on argue with him. You just needed an outlet for your feelings…

As you get closer to his cell, he is still mumbling to himself about fighting. What a weirdo. And he is shirtless with a freaking manbun, you take a minute to stare at him not knowing he is aware, his body looks like it was carved by the gods themselves. As much as you despised Eren, you couldn’t help but admit he was so attractive right now, he has changed a lot.

“How long are you going to stand there and not talk, you know I am not deaf. I heard you walk down.” He says, his voice is husky and sends chills down your spine. You hadn’t seen Eren for a while, last time you saw him he was annoying and whiny and just cried a lot…this time he is different. You bite your bottom lip. His face was hotter too, that hairstyle looks like it was invented just for him.

“Whatever.” You say in a bratty tone, and walk closer to him.

He doesn’t care, he is just sitting on the edge of the bed now. He looks annoyed, as if he was doing something important earlier and had been interrupted.

You start to bother him on purpose, hoping for a reply. He must be equally desperate to let out his pent up emotions because he argues back. Suddenly you and Eren are full on arguing about god knows what because it doesn’t make sense to anyone but you two. It goes from petty things to you bursting into tears, asking Eren why he has changed so much and why he is hurting everyone he once cared about. Eren doesn’t take kindly to that last part, you don’t know it but you hit a sore spot inside of him.

He grabs you by the collar of your shirt through the bars, eyes full of hatred and rage with a hint of pain and regret if you look deeper. You don’t stop there, you’re so angry and upset you end up bringing his mom into it, and then the real hell breaks loose.

He yells at you to leave her out of it, you scream back about everything that’s wrong with his behaviour and plans and how she would never approve of this. You’re trying to reach the little humanity he had left in him but it’s not working, the tension between you becomes weirdly sexual at some point. He can’t deny the tension and neither can you, he may have neglected his humanity but that doesn’t mean it’s not there deep within him, screaming to be let out, to express its feelings. The very feelings he has been pushing down to work toward his goal, pushing everything else aside. With you being here, and the sexual tension already between you the grief and pain chooses to express itself sexually.

He turns you around, with little care for how it affects you or if it hurt. He is rough with you, even though there’s literal bars between you he doesn’t seem to care. He pulls you in close, you can feel his breath on your neck. You giggle in response to Eren’s rough manhandling. “Geez, I didn’t know you had this side to you. Last time we argued it just ended with you crying like a bitch!” You laugh.

He slaps your face really hard in return, causing you to moan a little. Something about his cold broken energy just made you so attracted to him, and the carelessness and manhandling only made you more weak in the legs. You had not planned for this sexual tension to arise with Eren. Sure, all your arguing earlier helped you release the anger you were wanting to express but the sexual side of you needed release too and Eren’s glow up alone had awakened it. You hadn’t had sex in so long, too much work and too little time for anything else left you neglecting your sexual needs a lot.

You arch your back and push your ass up against Eren, to your surprise you’re met with some hardness. “Arguing makes you hard? You really are a mess Eren Yeager” you say to him in a snarky tone and laugh.

“Shut the fuck up, aren’t you the one pushing your ass all up against me like a bitch in heat?” He says in a husky voice that sends shivers down your spine. You almost accidentally moan yes daddy in reply, this new Eren has your mind racing. You just smirk back at him. “I’ll fuck this sly smirk off your face bitch, when I’m done with your ass you’ll be crying begging me to stop.”

“Ooh I’m so scared. Face it Eren, you couldn’t last a minute.” You brag, hoping to get a rise out of him and get manhandled even more. Oh how you wish those stupid bars weren’t between you, so Eren could have his way with you.

He chokes you in return and pulls your pants and panties down, you’re so wet just from this alone. It’s good you are wet because Eren was so pissed off he would’ve bottomed out in you wether you were wet or not. Your eyes roll back as you’re gasping for air, he is choking a bit too hard. He gets closer to your ear as he continues choking and whispers “spread your legs more bitch.”

You’re so dizzy from being choked you accidentally reply back “yes daddy” out loud instead of in your head and spread them causing Eren to chuckle, he low-key likes it and even more when you said it in the state you were in. He shoves his entire length into you, it’s so big it hurts causing you to wake up from your dizzy state. He knows you’re struggling to take it, from the way your body tensed up to the way you’re almost pushing him out is telling but he keeps pushing it in making you take it all. Your moaning is starting to get a bit to loud, which has him hiss “quiet you whore. Do you really want them to find you like this? All wrapped up around my cock moaning like a slut?” He lets go of your throat and puts it over your mouth, your muffled moans are still loud but it’s better than before. He keeps thrusting at a merciless speed, your body finally stopped resisting his sheer force and you’re taking him. Limp legged, barely able to stand up and he just keeps going, you can feel it reach all the way up in your stomach. He grabs your hand and makes you feel it. “Feel it slut, that’s me re-arranging your tiny little guts.” You cry out in return, it’s making you lose it, it’s just too much. You just want to collapse here and now, but Eren pushes your hand down on the bulge his cock is making on your pretty stomach. Your reaction is gold to him. “What was it about me not lasting huh y/n?” He snarks and starts slapping your ass, not once or twice but so many times your cheeks turn red.

You squirt all over Eren’s cock, orgasming so hard your cunt is once again trying to push him out. Eren just buries himself deeper inside you, feeling every small movement your cunt makes in hopes of pushing him out. Your breathing is getting faster, with legs shaking. “Please Eren, pull out for a second it’s too much” you cry out with tears running down your pretty cheeks.

“Shut the fuck up and take this dick” is all he says and starts fucking you deeper. He puts you on all four, positioning you into a mean painful arch even though there’s bars between you. He somehow reaches deeper into you with the position you’re in and you’re leaking all over the cold cement floor from your eyes and cunt. Eren is brutal, you had enough ages ago but he keeps going. You are so overstimulated you try to crawl away but you’re met with more brutal manhandling, he pulls on your ponytail keeping you in place. “What’s wrong y/n? You can’t last longer?” He mocks.

You end up getting your absolute brains fucked out by Eren, at the same brutal pace for what feels like hours. When he is done, you’re a mess. He didn’t stop until your cunt was overstimulated, bruised and gaping. You hear the others come down to check on Eren, you quickly put your clothes on. You’re struggling to stand as they come over, you’re just standing against the wall with your legs threatening to collapse any minute.

thanks for reading I didn’t proof read so sorry for mistakes 😵‍💫

© 2023 succubisblog | All rights reserved

[scoatneyhall]

WILD. Was anyone else aware that the Ted Lasso team has gone in and made post-production edits on season 3 episodes, sometime in the last year?

I've been rewatching the finale in advance of the one year anniversary of it airing, and straight off, I noticed that the points total on the graphic looked different to how I remembered it - a much closer race. It stuck out because I remembered being annoyed that they didn't celebrate the moment Richmond got confirmed for the Champions League, as the gap was big enough for it to have happened a while ago, offscreen. I still have a screencap from when the episode aired:

However, the current copy on Apple has an updated graphic, making the post-production graphic in line with the numbers on the actual physical whiteboard prop and the script mentioning the win streak. See here:

The corrected copy makes Richmond's points match the whiteboard, but it also puts the teams in 3rd to 5th place much closer to them points-total wise, meaning that now, in the current version of the episode, Richmond only qualified for the UCL in "Mom City," making it make more sense that the start of 3.12 is the first time it gets discussed. Would have been nice to mention that stake in the City match commentary during 3.11, but I genuinely am shocked that they went back in and edited the already-published episodes to clean up the post-production errors. For the record, here's the whiteboard as of 3.08: W10, D9, L6.

Just in case anyone cares, the order of those results was - 1 draw against Chelsea, 6 wins with Zava, 1 loss against West Ham, the rest of the draws and losses occurring between 3.05 and the loss against Arsenal in 3.07, and then the 4 wins mentioned at the start of 3.08. By the start of 3.12, it's mentioned they are on a 16 game win streak, so that's 22 wins overall, 9 draws, 6 losses, going into the final weekend, hence the updated graphic.

I like that they went in and fixed it - no idea when in the past 12 months that occured - but I also kind of can't believe they bothered? Then again, I can't believe the mistake was made in the first place, as they were so specific with details in the prior seasons, so maybe they couldn't live with it being wrong.

I know there were rumours about a ton of issues in terms of getting these episodes posted in time - right down to the wire, still fixing the edit on the airdate - and it's clear that these details were not checked and confirmed by the poor people in post who were not working off the show bible that lives in the writers heads. I don't blame them at all, I blame the people who got the edit to them late, but it did annoy me during the season a LOT. The maths wasn't mathing, and as we know this is a show that has been careful with dates and timelines and stuff like that.

Anyway! The point is, a) this post about my UCL qualification fantasies is now moot, and b) I went back and checked another post production error that had REALLY pissed me off, which was the dates of texts in Ted's phone in 3.04. Phone dates have always given us the timeline quite strictly before - it's how @belmottetower and I started the timeline in our primer, with Ted arriving in London on January 6, 2020 and then following the football seasons from there to place the season 3 finale in May 2022 - but in 3.04, all the cute texts we see to all the characters in his phone were badly misdated, placing the timeline further in the future. This caused arguments or misunderstandings, at the time about the actual timeline of the show, but it seems this was another detail the producers really wanted to fix and tighten up, as they've gone back and had it edited.

It's weird, because the texts Ted was actually going back to - the messages from Doctor Jacob - were dated correctly as late 2019, and there's even a little easter egg in the form of a US rideshare notification picking him up to go to the airport in America, on 5 January 2020. (Even the area code, 316, is apparently correct to Kansas.) That's all correct even in the original version of the episode, but somehow we then skip a year and place his most recent texts, as of 3.04, in late October 2022, when they should only be in late September or early October 2021. (I found this post on Reddit that screenshotted his phone at the time.) Examples:

I had to go back and check this, and sure enough, it's been edited to reflect the established timeline - they didn't just redate the year on each message, they also changed a bunch of the chats to be more recent - so rather than dates, his most recent chats with Henry, the Coaches, etc are from "Yesterday," then the first dated texts are in very late September 2021. This matches up pretty perfectly with where they are in a typical Premier League season - they REALLY cleaned it up. Further back, they do just switch the years on the dates, so he still got a picture from Sassy last Valentines Day, and his last one-on-one contact with Jamie is still set before the events of Wembley in 2.08 (FA Cup semi finals are in April, so a few weeks after the March 2021 date on Jamie's chat.)

My brain is itching because I swear there was a screen of Nate and Ted's text chat at some point too? With Ted reaching out about his new job, on a date that deeply did not work with the timeline? But maybe I imagined it. There's no record of Nate's number in his phone at all now, and the texts date back to before Nate left, so I guess in this version of events, Ted deleted Nate's number and message history.

Anyway, I'm aware that basically no one is going to care about this, but I suspect that the three people who will actually care will REALLY FUCKING CARE. Has anyone else noticed it? Does anyone know when it may have happened? Does anyone know what else might have been changed or fixed? I love details and I love the fact that there is no longer conflicting data about what football seasons the show is covering - it's mid 19/20 to the end of 21/22, end of story - but what a fucking mess the production of season 3 must have been, to end up at this point!

[crybabylulu]

That Night (smut)

(Sugar mama Lin Beifong x sugar baby reader)

Minors go tf away!

Warnings: men being weird, fingering, drinking, degrading, fucking in a closet, fighting, lots of hickeys

Remember that party Asami invited you and Lin to? Yeah it’s party time!

I had a glass of champagne in my hand while I watched people dance around at Asami’s party. The more I drink my champagne the more I realize I should have just gotten a shot. I’m not the biggest champagne person but I try so hard to be it’s stupid. I got this itching feeling that someone was looking at me but before I could look around Mako came up to me. “Hey.” Mako said. “Hey.” I said back and gave him a hug and kiss on the cheek. “Have you seen Bolin?” Mako asked. “No I have not.” I said. “Damn, well you wanna take a shot with me?” He offered me a shot glass. “I’d love to.” I said as I took it.

We clinked glasses then tossed our shots back. The liquid burned for a second then the feeling subsided. “I gotta go find Bolin to make sure he’s not doing anything stupid. I’ll come back to check on you in a bit.” Mako said. “You don’t have to check up on me, I'm a big girl.” I told him. “Tell that to chief.” Mako said as he walked away. I shook my head. When I go out by myself Lin sometimes has Mako follow me around which he rather do then paperwork anyways but it’s not like I can’t take care of myself. I started getting that feeling again of someone watching me and it’s bugging me.

I need another shot. I walked off to the mini bar and ordered a shot of cactus juice and then after I took it I said fuck it and ordered another one. Before I could leave the bar some guy blocked my way. “Excuse me.” I said as I tried to get past him. “Why don’t you come dance with me?” The average height man asked. “Actually she’s my dance partner.” Asami said as she grabbed my hand and dragged me away towards the dance floor. “Thank you.” I said. “No problem now, dance with me.” Asami said. I laughed as she held my hand as we danced around each other and on each other.

“I’m surprised you can dance in this dress.” Asami said to me as I danced on her. “What do you mean?” I asked as I moved my hips. “The slits of your dress goes all the way up your thighs at any minute we could have a flash moment.” Asami teased. “Oh shut up I used the tape you invented to make sure this dress don’t move like that.” I laughed. “I’m glad it’s really working, I’m truly a genius.” Asami said. “Indeed you are.” I said. Once the song was over Asami went to go find Korra. I ran into Mako again. “Still no Bolin?” I asked. “He’s in the pool.” Mako told me.

“Oh also you are doing a shitty job at protecting me.” I teased him. “What happened? Are you ok?” Mako asked frantically and started looking over my body for bruises or scratches. I mean he might find a bruise or two because Lin likes to mark me up. “Did someone do this to you?” Mako asked as he poked at my shoulder blade. “That’s a hickey.” I told him. “Oh.” Mako said as he turned me around to face him. “Yeah me and your mom get frisky.” I said. “I don’t need to know about what you and the chief do.” Mako said and shivered in disgust.

I laughed. “Anyways what happened?” Mako asked. “Some dude blocked me from leaving the bar then Asami came to save me.” I said. “I saw you two on the dance floor, you don’t think chief will get mad?” Mako asked. “Why would she?” I asked. “Since she likes to leave marks on you like that and has me follow you around she seems a little possessive don’t you think?” Mako asked. “I suppose so, yes but I don’t think she’ll get upset over me dancing with Asami.” I said. “Anyways stay with me so you don’t get bothered.” Mako said.

Hmmm how about no. “Mako, look , there's a tall buff smart pretty girl over there.” I said and pointed in the opposite direction. “Where?” Mako asked and I took off. I went back to the dance floor. I’m not afraid to dance alone. Is it more fun to have someone to dance with yes but oh well I have to dance alone. As I was dancing I felt someone grab my waist and I wasn’t alarmed at first my brain thought it was Asami or Lin. “Where’s your dance partner?” The male voice asked. Oh hell no! I quickly moved away and turned around.

“Dude what the fuck?” I asked. “Just dance with me.” He said. “No.” I said and tried to walk away from him but he grabbed my wrist. “Hey! Get off.” I snapped and turned back to face him. “It’s just one dance.” He snapped back. Before I could raise my other hand to punch him I was pulled away and then the guy was put on the ground. “You ok?” Mako asked. “Yeah I’m fine.” I told Mako. “You sure?” Lin asked me. “I’m fine baby.” I said. “I’ll get him out of here.” Mako said and dragged him away. “Come with me.” Lin said and we walked off the dance floor. “Where are we going?” I asked.

“Since people wanna dance with my girl I’ll just have to remind them you belong to me.” Lin said. Oh no. Lin dragged me into a closet. She pushed me against the wall and started a passionate make out. Her coming to save me made me horny but now her shoving me into the closet has me even more excited. Anyone could come in and see us but I don’t care. I want them to know, I want them to see, I need them to know I’m her’s. I pulled away. “You gonna keep making out with me or are you gonna remind everyone who I belong to?” I asked. Lin immediately attacked my neck.

I leaned my head back so she could have more access to my neck. “Lin please more.” I begged her. “Don’t be an impatient brat.” Lin growled. “Please.” I begged. Lin turned me around and lifted up my dress. I wasn’t wearing any shorts, it was just a dark red thong with a heart chain under my long dress. Lin smacked my ass and I let out a moan. “Lin.” I whined. She nibbled on my ear and smacked my ass over and over. God this feels so good. Lin pulled down my panties and started to circle my clit. “You’re wet just from me spanking you?” Lin asked.

“Yes, I love when you spank me.” I whined. Lin turned me to face her and pulled down my dress to pull out my breast. She nipped my left nipple and I gasped. She was gonna leave marks all over my tits. “Lin please more.” I begged. Lin slipped two fingers inside of me stretching me out and my back arched. “Yes, more baby more.” I whined. She curled her fingers and did a come here motion. “Fuck keep doing that.” I moan out. “You’re all mine aren’t you?” Lin whispered in my ear. “Yes I’m all yours!” I cried out. Her fingers feel so good inside of me. “You’re sure?” Lin asked.

“Yes baby I’m yours.” I moaned. “I thought you’d be Asami’s the way you were dancing on her.” Lin growled and rubbed my clit with her other hand. “No Lin. I’m yours all fucking yours! I belong to you!” I cried out. I guess Mako was right. “That’s right you belong to me.” Lin said. My legs were shaking and ready to give out. “Oh god please chief I’m close.” I whined as I felt a familiar tightness building in my belly. “When you cum you better scream my name.” Lin commanded. I nodded my head and the closer I got to tipping over the edge I kept saying her name over and over again.

“Do you think you can take another finger?” Lin asked. My eyes widened. “I c-can try.” I said unsurely. “Good girl.” Lin said and I felt her add a third finger. I gripped Lin’s shoulders. “Fuck chief!” I cried out. “Your tight pussy is swallowing my fingers up so well baby girl.” Lin cooed. We’ve never done this before but it feels so fucking good and I can feel my juices leaking down my thighs. “I’m so close.” I told her. “Cum for me baby you can do it.” Lin said, pumping her fingers faster. “I’m all yours Lin, I belong to you, I’m yours. I don’t want anyone but you,” I grabbed Lin’s face so she could look at me as I declared her ownership over me.

I could tell her eyes were full of lust but there’s something else there but I had no time to decipher what it was because Lin smashed her lips against mine. Lin plunged her tongue in my mouth and I didn’t even put up a fight. I let her do whatever she wanted to me. As Lin slowly pulled away I felt light headed. “You’re right you’re mine, you belong to me, there will be no one that touches you the way I do.” Lin groaned. Her words pushed me over the edge. “Lin!” I cried out as I orgasmed.

Lin fingered me through as my whole body shook. “Fuck Beifong.” I sighed out. “You ok?” Lin asked. I nodded my head. “You sure?” Lin asked. “Yes baby I’m fine.” I said. “Good.” Lin said as she pulled out her fingers and I put them in my mouth. I sucked them clean for her. “Let’s get out of here.” Lin said. “No, I wanna keep dancing.” I whined. “One more dance then we go.” Lin said as she helped me put on my panties. “You fucked up the tape.” I sighed. “What do you mean?” Lin asked. “There was tape that I put on the strings of my panties to help keep my dress from moving all over the place.” I told her.

“You’ll be fine.” Lin said. I nodded and we exited the closet together. Before we made it all the way back to the party Lin stopped me. “What’s wrong?” I asked and turned to look at her. Lin opened her mouth but then stopped. “Where the hell have you two been? Are you ok?” Kya asked coming up to us. “I was a little shaken up about what happened earlier.” I said. “Aww Linny, look at you taking care of your girlfriend. How romantic.” Kya teased. “Kya don’t you have single woman to mingle with?” Lin asked. “No need to be hostile Linny, but are you really ok?” Kya asked me.

“Yes I’m fine.” I said. “Oh and by the way Mako got into a fight with that guy.” Kya said. “Is Mako ok?” I asked. “Of course he’s ok.” Lin said. “Lin knows her precious son can handle himself but yes he’s ok.” Kya said. Lin rolled her eyes. Kya’s eyes widened. “What?” I asked. “Y’all are nasty! All those hickeys.” Kya gasped. “Oh hush Kya.” Lin said. Kya and I laughed. I was happy that the hickeys were seen. This is what we wanted. We walked back to the party and I got to dance with Lin for a little bit. Lin ran her hands over my body as we danced.

[raccoonface]

“Oh god!”

______________————————_____________

Warnings- language, ehhh idk about anything else

Summary-Cairo is in a heated rivalry with Y/n.. or at least she thinks so

————————______________———————-

______________————————_____________

Y/n POV

I have a love-hate relationship with school. I’m good at it but I hate having to spend my entire day at this place where I’m constantly being surrounded by imbeciles.

We are coming back from spring break and we have new classes to attend I have a new class called creative writing I’ve heard people talking about it I just was never interested in writing.

I have about 36 hours before school starts and I’m trying to figure out who’s gonna be in my class I can’t seem to find any of my friends on the list

I’ve been thinking about what new classes my friend CC had gotten, So I called her. It took me about two tries for her to pick up the phone

“Whaaatttt”

“Wooow CC didn’t know you were so bothered to hear from me”

“Yes I am so hurry up before my mom yells at me to take the dog out”

“Ok, ok I just wanted to know what new classes you got”

“Well my mom forced me to do a creative class so I chose either Piano or Creative writing, and I really wanted Piano but apparently not because I got creative writing”

“Phew”

“What are you ‘phew’ing about..?”

“I couldn’t find anyone with the same class as me and I was starting to get worried”

“Wow Y/n I was one of your last go-to’s that’s crazy”

“Shut up CC”

“Anyways I probably have- CC GET OUT HERE AND TAKE OUT THE DOG- ok I really have to go now bye-“

“Bye-“

Anddd, she hung up on me, as usual, but I can’t really blame her for having a mom like hers and I am so glad I finally found someone with the same class as me I was so scared I would have to do it alone.

But before I do anything else I should probably go out to eat before I starve to death, and there’s this new place I’ve been wanting to try for a while now and right now’s the perfect excuse.

I just had to find the place.. I knew it was some sort of bar/restaurant type thing I just couldn’t remember the name.

———————————————————————

I ended up finding a place which I’m sure is the right one but it doesn’t have any sort of sign or name on it.

It’s a little secluded which hopefully means it won’t be as packed, especially around this time of day. I decided to come here for a late lunch or some sort of early dinner.

Their menu was really appealing I had to hold myself back from getting everything but what was really appetizing was probably the good old (whatever food you want cuz I don’t know what to choose).

“Hello there may I take your order?” At least I know now that the people are nice here

“Oh uhm yeah sorry. I’d like the (food)” jeez I’m awkward

“Alright would that be all”

“Yeah thank you”

“No problem ma’am I’m just doing my job” of course like every waitress is supposed to

“Right.”

“I feel like I know you from somewhere” I hope not..

“Maybe..?” I have no idea..

“Holy shit you’re Y/n L/n right?” Surprise? I guess..? I don’t recognize her

“Uhhhh…. Yeah? Do I know you?”

“No but my friend knows of you and she hates your guts. She thinks of you as her school rival or something.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me right…?” There’s no way…

“No ma’am but I should probably get your order to the kitchen”

“Oh… yeah probably”

“Yeah talk to you later”

That was weird… I don’t know how her friend would know me though I would think I’m pretty quiet in school. I don’t even know who I was talking to.

————————______________———————-

Here’s a start to the Cairo series I was talking about.

Sorry for taking an unexpected absence for a month there’s a lot going on with my life rn but I’m getting back into working on my fics.

Expect more soon!

[elcpsstuff]

Pomegranate Margaritas // Conrad Fisher

Synopsis: It’s the Fourth Of July and yn gets a little too drunk on pomegranate margaritas

Warnings: drinking, Nicole being slightly jealous, yn is down bad for conrad ;), slight belly/jeremiah. slowly gets into the story but hang in there!

a/n: hey alll!! It still feels weird that my conrad story is over what??? anyways enjoy this little thing that has been swirling in the drafts :)

—

The fourth of July in Cousins was like no other. Susannah would always deck the house out with decorations and you and Belly would gush about the boys. It was always the same. This summer was different though.

You and your younger sister Belly, had friends. Being in the deb ball had its perks, as the debs would be coming over later in the day and now you finally could shove it in Steven’s face.

Things may be changing, but one thing didn’t. Your love for Conrad Fisher.

Conrad was always an enigma to you. All these years you two had been close but this summer he was different, more closed off. You wondered if you did something but found a little comfort in knowing he was being like this to everyone.

Everybody knew about your little crush on Conrad, (which wasn’t so little anymore) from the time you were kids and you were pretty sure Conrad knew it too. The only person you confided in was Belly like she confided in you about her crush on the youngest Fisher, Jeremiah.

Steven would always make jokes growing up about how Conrad was your Prince Charming and how you were into older guys, even though Conrad was only a year older. It would always bother you but you didn’t say anything.

After all, he didn’t feel the same way, right?

After changing and saying hello to your dad who brought his new young girlfriend, the debs arrived.

Everyone seemed to be doing something except for you. Gigi was warming up to Susannah, Steven was talking to Shayla and your mom and dad, and of course, Conrad was in the pool literally smelling Nicole.

There were moments this summer you thought he could like you back, but it was always swept away when Nicole would come back.

You groaned and grabbed the nearest drink, which was punch that you now wished had alcohol in it. Downing it quick you noticed a figure looming over you. It was Belly.

“Mind if I sit?” You nodded and she quickly took her seat next to you. She looked just as drained and board as you did. “What’s going on with you?”

You shrug, “Don’t know, just.. bored.” Your eyes linger to Conrad again and this time Belly takes note with a small grin appearing on her face.

“You’re staring.”

“Am not.”

“I wouldn’t blame you.” You smack Belly’s shoulder and she winces lightly while laughing.

“Well, Gigi is being productive.” You point to her and Susannah who are mingling about who knows what and you don’t even have to look to see the red on Belly’s face.

“Do you think.. I don’t know Jere would date her?”

You snort, “Gigi? No way. Come on Belly you know this.”

Belly shrugs, leaving you now with a laugh on your lips, “Belly, stop dancing around the premise of you and Jeremiah and go for him, he likes you you know.” A smile takes over Belly’s face.

15 minutes later you and the rest of the group decided to head down to the beach. Victoria had just taught you, Belly and Jere about Pomegranate Margaritas and you were immediately hooked. Conrad had even helped out giving you occasional glances but it stopped when Mr. Fisher walked in.

You and Belly carried two blenders full of the drink, getting a little bit carried away and handing everyone some. When you gave Conrad a cup, his hand brushed yours, making you blush. Nicole took note.

“Here you go.” You said to him, sending him a small smile.

Everybody except for you (and kind of Jeremiah?) had a date because eventually Cam showed up for Belly. You didn’t miss how Belly eyed Jeremiah and Gigi.

“You know what we should do? We should- we should play a drinking game!” The youngest girl Belly said flustered. Jeremiah then leaned over and tucked a hair out of her face, “sounds good to me.”

At least it’s going good for her.

You didn’t miss how Nicole would touch Conrad and your heart ached because you wished it was you. Your whole life you wanted to touch Conrad like that but now that you were older your touching feelings had.. developed to say the least.

You were 7 margaritas and a straight vodka shot in, and you were pretty drunk now. Steven always joked that you were a lightweight but that predicament didn’t matter anymore because you were very drunk. And when you were drunk nobody could stop you from speaking.

“Okay okay! We..” You begin to trail off, but then remember what you were about to say, “We should play truth or dare!”

Everyone agrees and you all begin going around the circle until it’s Nicole’s turn to ask. She turns to face you and you gulp down your last bit of the 8th margarita you were on.

“yn, truth or dare?”

You think for a moment, “Uh.. truth!”

Nicole looks around the group, clearly thinking of a good truth to ask and you hope it’s not something too harsh. You were always way to truthful when drunk.

Nicole then turns to face you, “Who’s hotter, Conrad or Jeremiah?”

Your face goes red. This was the worst question she could’ve asked but you can’t help and feel Conrad’s eyes burn into yours. The answer was obvious, to you at least.

“Uhm, well!” You stand up, remnants of your drink spilling into the sand. “I’ll give you an essay on that.”

“Please don’t.” Steven groans.

“no, no no. I want to!” You look at Jeremiah and smirk, “Listen Jere I um- You’re hot. Like blue eyes hot, holy I could get lost in those.. but,” You turn to look at Conrad who looks like he could break any minute.

“Conrad, I could go on and on about. The way his hair flops in his face, his dark blue eyes.. the way his smile could just.. I don’t know, you know? His.. his ability to be good at literally everything still amazes me, how can you not be in love with that?”

Your met with a angry Nicole who is burning holes through your eyes and that’s when realization seeps in. You just confessed your love for Conrad in front of everyone. You had imagined this many times in your head but never like this.

When you look at Conrad, his face is red. Just red. Guilt fills your lungs and takes you over like a tidal wave.

Shayla stands up and walks over to you, her hand on the small of your back. “Hey, let’s um.. let’s get you some water okay?” She looks at Steven and he nods, signaling to take you to the house. Everybody stands with amused faces and in this moment invisibility is your top choice.

Conrad won’t even look at you.

What the fuck had you just done?

—

It was late now, and according to your dad Belly had tripped on accident and Susannah’s cake stand went flying everywhere.

Laurel had just gotten back from wherever she came from you and were almost positive she got railed but you were silent since you had pushed your luck with the margaritas.

Now, you walked outside and felt the breeze hit your face. Your thoughts swarmed up as you saw the eldest fisher down by the docks.

You decided to walk up to him against all of your better and sound judgment.

“Hey..” You said, leaning against the wooden railing.

A smile pierces Conrads face, “Feeling better?”

“Not really..” You respond brutally. Conrad inches closer to you and then uses his finger to trace shapes on the dock railing. He was nervous.

You decided to break the silence, “Conrad, I’m—”

“It’s okay, yn.”

“No, no it’s not. I said— some stupid things okay? I get it, you, you probably hate me because I embarrassed you back at the beach but.. I can’t take it back now so..” You trail off as words begin to fail you.

Conrad then reaches forward and intertwines your fingers together with his own, making your heart skip a beat. “You never told me that.”

You raise your eyebrows, “What?”

“That you love me.”

“I— Um.. It wasn’t something easy to say..” Conrad rubs your thumb and your breath hitches a little. You need to get it out now.

“I’ve loved you since we were kids, Conrad.”

Conrad stays there, afloat and for a second you thought he was going to pass out.

“Well.. um.. yeah.” You stammer, regretting another decision for the 100th time tonight.

Conrad then leans in, bringing his lips to yours. The kiss is sweet, everything you had envisioned with Conrad. You kiss for a couple more seconds before a firework goes off, surprising you both. Your hands are still intertwined.

Conrad chuckles nervously, “Sorry.. my hands sweating.”

You faintly whisper, “No no.. this is uh.. it’s perfect.”

A grin then encompasses Conrad’s face, “You should drink pomegranate margaritas more often, then.”

—

Hey allll! that was it. I know it’s kinda shitty but there are literally no more new conrad fics coming out and I don’t know if i’ll be able to survive now until s3. Hope u liked it :))

[naughtystiel]

DEANCAS AU FIC REC MASTERPOST

Although I loved all of these fics, the ones with stars next to them are my absolute favourites! Happy reading! ♡

One million fires burning ☆

Dean Winchester teaches three classes a day, tutors after school, and chairs the English Department for Lawrence High School. He does enough.

Unfortunately, his boss doesn't feel the same and informs him that he has a new job: co-coaching the school's trivia team. His co-coach? None other than the school's golden boy, Castiel Milton. Who Dean can't stand, for various reasons, all of which are valid, thank you very much. And the fact that Dean can't stop talking about the stick up Cas's, sorry, Milton's ass?

Completely irrelevant.

Should have just asked ☆

Despite their age gap and differing social circles, Castiel has struck up a warm friendship with Mary Winchester, a wealthy widowed socialite. When Castiel needs a place to stay, Mary invites him into her house, where there’s loads of spare room. Castiel’s aware that they make an odd pair, but he doesn’t fully realize how things look to outsiders, especially to Mary’s eldest son. All Dean Winchester sees is that his mom has apparently hooked up with a hot young guy (who is totally Dean’s type) and that makes things… weird.

Living in agony ☆

Dean Winchester's life is... well, it's not great. He's a gym teacher, he's in his thirties, and he can't seem to keep any part of his life straight. When the aftermath of a one-night stand goes awry, Dean is dragged kicking and screaming out of his cozy little closet and into the harsh light of reality.

Enter: Castiel Novak, the new history teacher, who knows full well that life gets crappy when you don't allow yourself to live it in the way it needs to be lived.

The last great race

There is a race that takes place every year in Alaska called the Iditarod, a thousand mile journey across the Alaskan wilderness by dog sled team that has come to be known as "The Last Great Race on Earth”. It is a test of endurance, of the relationship between dogs and their people, traversing mountain ranges, frozen rivers, forest and tundra.

When writer Castiel Milton is forced to spend two and a half months in Alaska at Winchester Kennels to cover the race preparations and the Iditarod itself, the only person more dismayed than he is Dean Winchester, one of his hosts. Castiel views his assignment as a punishment and is less than impressed by his surly host, and Dean distrusts the sheltered city-born writer who has invaded their home and their lives. But soon, as the Winchesters prepare for their race and Castiel learns about sled dogs and what a musher’s lifestyle is all about, they forget to hate each other and their relationship evolves into something neither of them expected.

Starstruck ☆

From the outside Castiel Novak looks like a regular guy: a good job, two teenage kids, a nice house and a crappy car he’s way too attached to.

But there’s one thing no one knows about him: that, over twenty years ago, he used to live next to none other than Dean Winchester – back then a brash and loud-mouthed boy and nowadays a huge movie star and Hollywood’s sweetheart.

Castiel never bothered to tell anyone about his childhood friend because frankly, who would believe him? Probably even Dean himself already forgot about his former awkward and weird neighbor, so Castiel seriously doesn’t see any point in mentioning the whole thing ever.

But then an interview on national TV happens where Dean reveals way more about his past than ever before … and Castiel - as well as the rest of the world - suddenly realizes that he left a much bigger impact on Dean’s life than he originally thought.

Russian to the altar ☆

“I need you to marry Castiel.”

They weren’t the words Dean expected to hear from his business partner’s mouth before their bakery-slash-chocolate shop opened for the day. He’d been quite happy being single—and who the fuck was Castiel, anyway?

It turned out that Castiel was a Russian erotic novelist in need of a ticket to America, and Dean… well, Dean was a last resort.

I wanna get outside (of me) ☆

Dean is a novice in the dom/sub world asked by his employer as a desperate last resort to be a sub for his recluse of a brother, Castiel. Castiel is a diagnosed OCD suffering from PTSD and agoraphobia, mysophobia, and dystychiphobia. Needless to say—he’s a mess who hasn’t stepped out of his home in literally seven years. The only times Gabriel can see traces of the way his brother used to be is when he feels in control—specifically when he has control over a sub. However, due to his idiosyncrasies and paranoia, keeping a sub around has been impossible. Enter Dean, who’s not a very traditional submissive, to try his hand at subbing for the hermit.

Painted angels ☆

Author Castiel Novak has finally hit the big time, with a book based on his failed college relationship with a brilliant painter. He's put all his pain behind him, but at a book signing, he comes face to face with Dean Winchester for the first time in twelve years, and the reunion doesn't go like Cas hoped. Dean's a broken man, with a lot of scars and secrets, shoulders weighed down by his demons and self loathing.

Cas sees a second chance with the man he's never stopped loving, but Dean's moved on, and is about to get married. Sam launches a "brilliant" plan to reunite his brother and his best friend, but Cas is worried it will all blow up in their faces, and he'll go through the agony of losing Dean a second time.

Texas state of mind

Dean Winchester was once an award winning country music star, but fame came too early. Now, he’s fifteen years sober and owns a ranch in western Texas. He’s happy with his life. He has horses, a nice herd of cattle and so what, if he’s alone. He tells his friends that he’s happily single. Back when he was touring, men and women threw themselves at him – but he knew they only wanted him for his fame.

Cas Novak just won his fifth CMA award. He loves singing, but the touring was getting old. Living in a bus nine months out of the year was slowly destroying his creativity. He hasn’t written anything new in over a year. Then he hears an old song on the radio. He vaguely remembers the handsome singer and wondered whatever happened to him. Before he knew it, he'd written a new song. The only problem was…it was a duet. A duet that could only be sung with a voice like Winchester’s.

After locating the man’s ranch, Cas makes a surprise visit. Will he be able to talk Dean into joining him on stage after all these years? Will the two men find what they’ve been looking for all their lives – someone to share a future with?

If angels were men

Castiel Novak was raised by a hunting father, but he left that life behind for college and a flower shop. When his father is killed by a demon, Cas jumps back in the game and finds himself constantly running in the presence of the Winchester brothers, who are searching for their own father. They seem to be everywhere he turns, and at some point they become friends, then a team, then, maybe, in the case of Dean Winchester, something more.

Vagabonds ☆

Dean is a sheriff in a tiny town in Colorado, restless and unsatisfied with his life. It's not like what he's read about in the dime novels since he was little, capturing dangerous outlaws and being the last word of the law. More like tossing the town drunk in a cell to sober up when they get a little too rowdy.

But Dean's chance comes when a thief rolls through their town. He pursues the thief, which puts him right into the path of Emmanuel, a notorious outlaw. When he is captured by the outlaw and his gang to be held for ransom, Dean starts off on a journey he could have never envisioned, and learns that perhaps there's more to Emmanuel than meets the eye.

Four letter word for intercourse ☆

As a grease monkey turned college freshman, Dean's constantly three seconds away from being stressed out of his mind. It hardly helps that he's finally figuring out his sexuality in his thirties.

What might help with that stress is a little phone number (and a big credit card bill). If he can't figure out how to be bisexual in person, he can at least give it a go over the phone, right?

(It's probably a bad idea, but he really can't help himself.)

Any little heartbreak ☆

Dean Winchester knows everything there is to know about the human heart.

Well.

Anatomically speaking.

Get some

Very slowly, Dean turns. 'How'd you know I was here about a room?'

'Power of deduction,' says Castiel, leaning against the doorway. 'I mean, you're not after pot, and I'm pretty sure we haven't slept together.' He grins wolfishly, gaze sliding over Dean's body. 'You, I'd remember.'

Dean's been hit on by guys before, but never so blatantly, let alone by a semi-naked dude in a kimono. A hot blush warms his cheeks, and he covers his shock with cockiness, tilting his head and grinning. 'Sorry to disappoint you, Cas, but I don't swing that way.'

Castiel throws back his head and laughs. 'And you want to live here? What, did your friends put you up to this?'

'Actually, yeah.' Dean raises an eyebrow. 'Is that a problem for you?'

What i need

A joking phrase commonly heard between a surgeon and his tech is "Give me what I need, not what I ask for." Dr. Novak and his tech Dean will soon learn the impact this phrase has on life outside the operating room.

Mad at your dad? ☆

Dean wasn’t sure why he was even scrolling through Craigslist. Especially not the casual encounters section. It was four days before Thanksgiving. Not like he was gonna try and hook up with someone before that shitstorm. After, sure, but not before.

He kept scrolling, though, not clicking anything until a title caught his eye.

Alone on Thanksgiving? Mad at your dad? I am a 28 year old male felon who has no degree, but has studied enough theologies of the world, behavioral psychology, and philosophy to set your whole family’s teeth on edge—no matter which way they lean, politically, religiously or in terms of neuroses. I drive a van the same age as me that’s got a mural on the side of an angel holding an orgy. I can play between the ages of 20-30 depending on whether I shave. I live off an inheritance, and sell weed on the side. If you’d like to have me as your strictly platonic date for Thanksgiving, but have me pretend to be in a very long or serious relationship (monogamous or polyamorous, whichever sounds most like it would freak out su familia) with you (and/or others), to torment your family, I’m game...

(dis)affection ☆

When Dean and Castiel are tricked to go on a date, neither is happy about this. To get back at their deceitful friends, they hatch the perfect plan: pretend to be dating, and gross out their friends with their over-the-top, disgustingly cute romantic relationship – and then break up in the most despicable manner imaginable. As it turns out, you can learn a lot from someone just by pretending affection.

Ninety one whiskey ☆

In the spring of 1944, the 104th Medical Battalion of the United States Army is disbanded, and its men reassigned to various infantry companies in preparation for their invasion of occupied France. For First Lieutenant Novak, this is less than helpful, as he has so far met his platoon’s designated medic a grand total of twice, and has both times found Sergeant Winchester to be the optimum combination of reckless, arrogant, and downright insufferable so as to make cohesive platoon function near impossible. When the time comes to move out, however, Castiel has to reconcile himself to the fact that men are going to go down and trust that Dean Winchester may well be the only person who can put them back together again. WW2 ETO infantry AU.

The breath of all things

Dean Winchester was twenty-six years old when a car accident killed his father and left him paralysed from the waist down. A year and a half later, Dean is in a wheelchair and lives in a care home in Kansas, where he spends his days waiting to die. It's only when Castiel Novak starts volunteering at the care home that Dean starts to wonder if a changed life always equals a ruined one.

If you'd have been the one

A boy sits on the front steps, his dark hair a wild mess. A gingerbread boy, Dean thinks. Dressed in pressed slacks and a sweater-vest to match his father’s. He looks about Dean’s age; maybe they’ll be in the same class. That wouldn’t be too bad, unless he’s mean. He could be mean; a lot of kids are mean to him, so he has to be mean back.

He hopes this one is nice.

...

In the year 1986, at seven years old, Dean Winchester meets Castiel Novak.

Eleven years go by, then eight, then three.

Somewhere along the way, things start to change.

Spirit of the west ☆

Dean grew up on a horse farm and can't imagine any other life. There are drawbacks to working for his father, but they're worth it if it means remaining with his beloved horses. Besides, between his broken arm and his lack of prospects, he hasn't got much else.

Something of an outsider, Dean always feels like there's something he's missing. But this tense summer brings back a figure from his past: years ago, a teenaged Cas worked for a season at the Winchester ranch. His return could change everything.

If you ever wanted a 90s horse girl book, but starring a young Dean Winchester, this is your fic.

Guns and wings

Dean Winchester is the sheriff in the small town of Sioux Falls, along with his deputy (and brother) Sam. Life there is calm and normal, easy to manage with the occasional problems. That is until the Garrison gang sends an assassin to kill one of their beloved citizens. Dean is ready to hang the man for his crimes, when the outlaw gives him a deal he can't pass up. The whole Garrison gang. Dean and the criminal, Castiel, set off to find the gang; enemies working towards a common goal. Dean is determined to hate Castiel, but the longer they journey together and the more he finds out about the outlaw the harder it becomes to deny the feelings he begins to have for the man. But he's the sheriff and he has a job to do, he can't fall in love with a criminal... Right?

Life was a willow

When Dean’s favorite author becomes a regular at his bar, Dean knows he’s done for. He never could have anticipated the intense feelings that blossomed for the talented Castiel. There’s just one thing standing in his way of being with Castiel the way he truly wants: Castiel is waiting for his soulmate.

Dean has spent his entire life hating the concept of soulmates. He just wants to live his life without the universe intervening. If the only way he can keep Castiel in his life is by swallowing his feelings, then that’s what he’ll do.

300cc ☆

300 Complementary Characters: a forum on Kansas City University’s student website. You can write whatever you want, but it has to be 300 characters or less.

Dean is crushing hard on Sam’s TA, but it feels different than it has before; it feels like he needs to do it properly, to have a grand declaration and to prove that romance isn’t dead. What better way to profess his feelings than posting a poem on 300cc?

Castiel is torn. There’s no mistaking the poem is for him, but who could be posting them? Despite being very tempted by the very attractive new light and sound engineer that will be working on the play he has written, Castiel can’t ignore the feeling that he and the anonymous Poet are meant to be together.

A comedy of errors, mutual pining, and erotic poetry.

Satin and sawdust ☆

When Castiel moves out of Jimmy's house and into his own place for the first time, he saves money on buying a home by investing in a Fixer-Upper. He knows nothing about how to fix the many problems the house has, but he figures he's smart enough to figure it out. Unfortunately it's not too long before he learns that he's way in over his head.

Thankfully his new neighbor Dean is a handyman, and agrees to help him out. He knows Dean has a bit of a crush on him, but he's not taking advantage of it, really. Dean's a great guy, and quickly becomes a good friend.

But a flash of satin under Dean's toolbelt changes everything.

Stay with me, sweetheart ☆

“Alright Cas, here comes the hard part. We’re gonna get you out of here, but we’ve gotta take the roof off and while we do that, we’re gonna have to cover you with a sheet to protect you from the glass. I’ll be right here though. I’m not going anywhere.”

As he starts to drift away, he suddenly feels the press of Dean’s forehead against his own through the rough fabric and hears that warm, sunlit voice murmer quietly in his ear, too low to be overheard by the firefighters currently working to remove the SUV’s roof, “Stay with me, Sweetheart.”

A single moment's distraction ends with a serious car accident that leaves Castiel trapped in his vehicle. Fortunately for him, fire fighter Dean Winchester is there, never leaving Castiel's side as the rest of his company work to free him from the mangled remains of his SUV.

When the two meet again in the ICU, Castiel finds himself just as drawn to and comforted by the handsome fireman as he was during his accident. Dean is certainly attractive, but single father Castiel doesn't have time or space in his life for a romantic relationship.

Then again, there's no harm in making a new friend, is there?

And this, your living kiss

Only a very few people in the world know that the celebrated and reclusive poet Jack Allen is just Kansas mechanic Dean Winchester, a high school dropout with a few bucks to his name. Not that it matters anymore; life has left him so wrung out he never wants to pick up another pen.

Until, that is, a string of coincidences leads Dean to auditing a poetry course with one Dr. Castiel Novak. The professor is wildly intelligent, devastatingly handsome...and just so happens to be academia's foremost expert on the poetry of Jack Allen.

Sometimes you'll find that i'm out of my mind ☆

Castiel returns from the Empty, and Dean worries obsessively. Dean also sleeps on the floor in Cas' room, which he admits is weird, but at least he's sleeping.

[ultimaratiovaccinium]

Obsession

I'm not a complicated woman, I swear.

I'm so boring.

I'm quiet. I live alone. I drink decaf. I file my taxes in January. I majored in art history.

I crochet, goddammit! I crochet cardigans, the most boring kind of sweater! And then I wear them! Like Mister Rogers, aka the plainest person to ever exist.

No one could possibly suspect how deeply weird I am.

I've been perfect. I've never left a browser history. I've never worn blue and red together. I've kept myself as trim as my mom's genes let me. No one's ever caught me watching the movie.

You know... the movie?

You know the movie.

Well, I mean, I guess it's "movies" now, but... I know which one left a violet stain on my soul.

You can't blame me.

Well... you certainly can't, anyway.

If you were me, maxed out on good karma, toeing every line you've ever met, perfectly alone in all the universe... what would you have done differently? What other choice was there?

Never mind how I got the chance. As soon as I found out about it, there was nothing else I could do. Everything I thought I knew about myself fell away. All the safe choices and good behavior just gone, poof, like they never existed. This is my fate, it was made for me.

I was always going to be the one chewing this stick of gum.

In the end, it was like they wanted me to find it.

Dodging through an unlocked door, stealing through low-lit corridors, drawn to it like the heartbeat of the universe.

It's so silly. I know it is. Some stray neutrino passed through my brain as a child, and I watched the wrong movie, and I twisted into whatever it is that I am. All I've wanted is to become something else, and that something is big, and round, and draped in the shreds of the last clothes she'll ever wear.

That last part is really important for reasons I just can't explain. All that matters is that I literally get too big for my britches. I just need to hear that little "pop". That's it.

I can never seem to imagine past that. Regardless, I'm putting the gum to my lips, completely, defiantly unaware of how this will end. It's on my tongue, and the flavor is unreal. I guess they didn't bother with the roast beef or anything. It's just violently fruity. Juicy, and warm, and way too sweet.

A door creaks open. I was so sure I wouldn't be found, but joke's on them. It's too late.

It's a mousy woman woman with huge glasses, wearing a lab coat. She peeks around the door before she enters, like she doesn't want to offend me.

"Oh-" she says.

"Um," I say around a mouthful of juice. "I-"

And then I think, hey, wait, I've made my choice. It doesn't matter how this ends! What's she going to do, save me? I'm in control here! Kind of!

"... um." I say again. Actually, it's hard to talk. I'm swallowing a lot of juice.

She steps all the way into the room.

"Uh, hi," she says, fiddling with her glasses. She looks at me, and then down at her clipboard, and then back to me. "Are you-"

"I'm not spitting it out," I say, before gulping down another burst of juice. I'm starting to feel kinda bloated.

"No, I mean. Um," she says, "sorry, I'm new here, um."

I'm tired of my mouth working so hard, so I make a show of swallowing the gum.

"Oh!" she says, "that was fast," and she makes some sort of mark on her clipboard.

What.

"Um, could you follow me this way, please?" she asks, gesturing toward another door I hadn't noticed. One of those big ones like they have on loading docks that roll upward.

"What?" I ask, reflexively.

She walks over and pushes a big red button on the wall. The door starts lifting.

"Oh, sorry, we can wait if you want," she says, "you'll fit, don't worry."

I start to have a thought, but then my stomach gurgles and I feel like I'm on an elevator going down. I clutch my sides and double over, but... it's getting hard to bend.

"Don't worry," she says again, "it just feels weird, but you'll be okay."

The thought comes back. Someone was expecting this. They're prepared for this.

I look back at the pedestal the gum was resting on. It's already been replaced with another piece.

The worst feeling in the world is thinking you're making a defiant last stand, only to find out that the hill you chose to die on was ready-made for your dramatic exit, and that you'll be asked to leave through the gift shop and pay way too much for the photos they take of you. You know, figuratively.

I have to do something they won't see coming.

I turn around and lunge for the new piece of gum. Or, at least, I try to lunge, but my thighs are filling up and it's getting difficult to move dramatically. Still, I grab it and cram it in my mouth. Might as well be a brat.

"Oh!" she chirps again, and makes another mark on her clipboard. "Wow! So-"

God, I'm feeling so full. I can feel every inch of my clothes pulling taut against my skin. I gave in to temptation and wore a blue top, blue jeans, and a red belt. I couldn't help myself. Now, that belt is starting to dig in, trying to squeeze me in half.

I swallow the new gum, too, and look down at myself. I'm getting pretty big, bulging out around the belt. My shirt is riding up, exposing my swelling blue belly to the cool air. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her make another mark.

I try to touch my growing midsection, but it's getting hard to move my arms. They're filling up too. I feel warm all over now.

"You're blowing up so fast!" she says.

She opens her mouth to say something else, and that's when my belt snaps apart. My equator surges outward, jiggling and sloshing from the violent release.

It feels so, so strange, becoming something completely alien to what you use to be.

That said, it also feels amazing. Swelling bigger and bigger with gushing blueberry juice, bursting out of- wait.

I'm still growing, but besides the belt, everything's still on.

I try to look down again, but all I can see is the blue horizon of my belly. I flap my hands in frustration.

The lady speaks up again. "Since you're likely unable to move by yourself now, may I have your permission to roll you?"

"Um," I say, trying to think. I'm freaking out a little right now. "Uh."

I need this. It's all I've ever really needed. I just need need need to blow up and burst out of my clothes, that's it, and who cares what happens to the blueberry that used to be me.

All I need is to burst one little button and I'm done. I'll have won. Good day, miss.

The problems is, I'm perfectly round now, and my jeans are so, so tight but haven't so much as snapped a stray thread.

"Miss?" she says, "may I roll you away?"

I try to think of something to say, just to stall for a little more time. I'm so close, so so close.

Instead, I break down.

"Please," I beg her, "I'm going to lose my mind if I can't pop this button."

"Hey-" she starts, but I'm in a full-on panic right now.

"I have to, I have to, I don't know if I'll ever get another chance to be a blueberry, and like what if you roll me away and I never get juiced and I'm just stuck like this forever which would be hot but still or like what if this is as big as I can get and it's just impossible like what the fuck who even makes clothes that fit spherical women I knew I should have worn the red ones-"

"-but-"

"And I know what you're thinking! She broke the rules, it doesn't matter what she wants, she's just a blueberry now, blueberries don't want things, they're not even people! She had her chance and she blew it except she couldn't even blow it-"

"Miss! Please," she snaps, and she walks over, reaches up, and pinches my lips closed.

We lock eyes, because where else can I look, and for a moment, I just cry silent blue tears down my puffy cheeks, pouting all the while.

Then she smiles, and says, "I'm a trained professional, Miss. I can help you with that." She lets go, brushes her frizzy hair out of her eyes, and disappears behind me.

I feel her warm little hands on either side of me, like she's trying to give me a weird hug. Then I feel her squeeze into me. It feels startling, she must be way stronger than she looks. The pressure builds more and more, and I can hear her making an adorable little straining noise.

Then, there's a pop, and immediately a sense of relief. I hear a little zipping noise as the fly on my jeans explodes open. I gasp at the sensation.

Finally.

I give a little shudder, releasing the tension I hadn't realized was building the whole time. How Freudian of me, I guess. The oral stage ain't got nothing on this.

"Now then," she says, appearing in front of me again, smiling wider, making yet another mark. "May I please roll you away, Miss?"

[dollywheeler]

October 23th, 1996

Dear diary,

Let’s see - the last few days have kind of been a blur.

I don’t think I did anything particularly interesting, just following my routine - same old same old. I had to spend all of Sunday catching up on my homework, so nothing special happened there. Mike let me take his old guitar home, though, and the reading for English class is going a lot better now I can alternate chapters of Walden with a moment of playing music. My Oasis tape has been running non-stop.

Cheer practice is going fine - the routines are a bit easier now so I’m having less trouble. I try to practice the harder ones as often as possible, but I still haven’t found a solution for practicing the jumps on my own.

Oh! I almost forgot - On Sunday, I watched Dracula! Danny recommended it and I wanted to watch something while finishing my homework. It was too good - I had to pause it and rush to finish my homework so I could watch it properly; This is exactly why I usually play something I’ve already seen.

I wish we could have watched it together though, but we’ve both been so busy we’ve barely had the chance to spend time together. Whenever he doesn’t have basketbal practice, I have cheer or babysitting, or he has to work at the diner. Mrs. Benson is doing a lot better, at least, so I don’t have to go over as often. Danny joins us for lunch most days, though, and I try to come to the diner as much as possible - it’s nice, just being able to talk to him, even if it’s in snippets between him serving the other customers. Christy doesn’t seem to mind it too much, either, as long as Danny doesn’t leave anyone waiting for too long.

Still, I hope we can go on an actual date again soon.

Mom already hinted at having him over for dinner and I’m… Not sure how to feel about that.

I mean, Danny’s great and I’m sure Dad will like him - I already know mom does because she can’t stop raving about our homecoming pictures. She went to pick them up from the developer on Monday and though I do look terrible in a lot of them, there’s some really cool pictures as well - ANYWAY, what I was trying to say (write? Whatever) was that it feels weird to have him over for dinner with the family.

I was too young to remember the first time Jonathan joined us for dinner - if he ever did before they both went off to college - so it’s not like I can look to my older sister for an example.

Lord knows Mike never brought a girl home.

What I’m trying to say is - I have no idea how Mom and Dad are gong to act. Especially dad - there’s a big enough gap between me and Nancy that I’m sure dad is going to have to get used to his daughter dating all over again.

I might call Nancy and ask for advice - if she has the time, of course. She’s so busy lately running all over the place. When I called on Saturday she said they’d be coming back to the US on Tuesday, but it wouldn’t be the first time their stay got extended. I’ll probably just wait on her to call over the weekend, just in case.

I don’t know what else to write about really, but I’m at the diner and a table in the back is staring at me. I don’t know why - I know their faces but not their names. Pretty sure one used to be the school’s librarian before he retired a few years ago. I see him and the woman he’s talking to around town sometimes, walking dogs, or here at the diner drinking coffee and gossiping as they are now. Most residents always follow everything going on around them, and I’m sure they recognise me in turn from seeing me around one too many times, but today I swear they’ve been looking at me specifically for way too long.

So, I took out my diary and started writing so it seems like I’m not bothered and can’t hear what they’re saying.

It’s strangely unsettling. I don’t know - they seem judgemental, and I feel judged, though for the life of me I can’t figure out why. I’m not doing anything different. I don’t look anything different - I’m not wearing anything special. Sure, I’ve been talking to Danny a lot because it’s so calm today, but it’s not like we’re being particularly loud.

Pretty sure I just heard them say “the Byers kid” - which is strange, because a, I’m not a Byers, and b, I’m not my brother - hell, we don’t even look alike.

I didn’t even realise they knew who I was, let alone who my brother’s friends are. Anyway, it’s weird how hung-up they are about Mike and Will’s return to Hawkins - I mean, it’s been more than two months, and they were only gone for - what? Seven? Ish? Years? I don’t even know.

I guess that’s the one downfall from living in a small town.

Most of the time it’s an advantage - like havig to go to the post office during the summer and getting to chat with Dylan while she works, or feeling completely at home in a diner because you know every face there. It’s nice knowing your neighbours and your neighbour’s neighbours in turn.

Like last week, with Mrs. Benson, I heard soooo many stories about the people around town. And sure, it’s gossip which isn’t always nice, but more often than not it’s just keeping everyone updated. It’s how we all show we care - how else would Mom know who’s in desperate need of a casserole or a plate of cookies?

That sounds like a hyperbole or whatever - Mike would probably know the perfect term - but it’s more relevant than one might think.

Plenty people don’t know to ask for help - like Mrs. Benson - and they’re just waiting on people to offer it.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned from mom, is that more often than not overbearing is just bearing enough.

Anyway, Daniel and his mom are new to town too, but no one’s talking about that anymore either. Now I think about it, it is weird that people seem more hung-up about them than Danny. I mean, Danny and his mom are total outsiders - even if they only came from a few towns over - but at least Mike and Will are known strangers. They came back, which isn’t unheard of.

Mr. Howard, our PE teacher, for example, moved back in his thirties to take care of his ailing father. His father is still kicking around, by the by, even though he’s been back for almost twenty years now. Anyway, even though he’d been gone for seventeen years, everyone acted like he’d simply never left.

Max’ mom, on the other hand, still often gets reminded that she’s not from here, though it’s less obvious because the residents of the trailer park are used to people coming and going more than Suburbians, and also because she at least was here for ’86.

Now I think about it, it’s bothering me more and more.

I’ve always felt like I’m missing something - it’s often clear mom and Mike are talking around me - but I always just assumed it’s them being weird about Mike’s degree. That’s the one thing dad brings up sometimes when it’s about Mike, right before mom sends him a warning glare with pointed eyes at me. I don’t know - I get dad wanted us to do something practical, or at least, Mike, because dad has plenty of opinions on Nancy’s career as well. But he’s from a previous time, and honestly why Nancy wants to work so bad, I don’t understand.

Anyway, this took a turn.

I really keep getting carried away with these things.

The people are still there, but they seemed to have moved on conversationally, and it’s about time I head home anyway. I’m just going to say goodbye to Daniel and get going so I’m back in time for dinner.

Love, Holly

[charmedbystars]

you don't get it (e-1610 miles morales)

pairing: e-1610 miles x reader (unrequited)

summary: you try to understand miles, but you cant.

a/n: this is the first time i try writing something so i'm so sorry if it's bad. plz leave suggestions and stuff if ya want! also debating a part 2 but i hate this sooo i don't know yet...

you and miles grew up together. making an oath to stick together for the rest of your lives in the sandbox of a park about two blocks from miles’ apartment. and you guys sure stuck to that oath. from crying about getting sand in each other’s eyes, going through the awkward teenage phase (and miles still going through it), to being accepted into the same school. you guys were inseparable. 

recently, you found out about miles’ secret vigilante identity. you didn’t take it very well and constantly scolded miles about his safety, but you were glad he chose to trust you. 

of course, when it came to trust it came with knowing other stuff too… such as knowing who gwen was. and to make it even better, since you were the only person (other than ganke) that he can go on to talk about her, you became a victim of listening to the constant babble of gwen this and gwen that. you literally didn’t know how much longer you can take it, especially with those feelings of yours bubbling in your stomach. 

of course… how cliché of you to be in love with your best friend of years. plus your best friend being the super oblivious miles did not make it any better. 

anyways going back, you didn’t know how to tell miles that you’re in love with him without ruining your years of friendship or how to just simply ask him to shut the fuck up about gwen without hurting his feelings. you literally didn’t know how he could talk about her for hours without getting tired (although if someone asked you about miles, you would go on for ages, but that’s different) and the number of times you’ve caught him sketching her in his journal has become freaky. 

you love miles but this is just getting tiring. you want things to be how they were. when you guys would sneak up to the roof and talk about the stars or sneak out to do some graffiti. now it’s just cancelled plans, late texts backs, and constant excuses. and that’s how you are now, sitting outside the steps of miles’ apartment waiting for him to arrive with the cakes for his dad’s promotion party. you look down at your phone and open it again to see if he responded.

you: hey miles im outside waiting 4 you

you: dont forget the cakes and stay safe

you: lemme know when you arrive plz

Delivered 

you sighed for the twentieth time, wondering when miles was going to arrive. you just sat outside on the steps to his apartment when about ten minutes later you hear a crash. you stand and squint looking up. 

“y/n! come upstairs so we can enter the rooftop together,” there was miles, head handing outside his window. you nodded your head and headed upstairs to his apartment. you didn’t even bother knocking and simply just barging into his house. walking into his room, you see miles rushing to get his shoes on. 

leaning against the wall, you stared down at miles, “so what was it this time? it better be good enough that you’re late to your own father’s party”

“yes i knowww, i just got caught up doing some stuff. the villian today was super weird though and then i almost lost the cakes, but you know what? none of that matters because i’m here now!” he gave you one of his wide smiles.

you couldn’t stay serious with him when you gave you that smile. you yourself cracked a smile, shaking your head. “okay, noted. crazy day for spiderman, now hurry up and get your shoes on faster because one more minute longer and your mom is gonna freak.”

“well seems like my mom is already freaking,” miles smugly looked at you while standing up, grabbing the cakes and leaving you behind. you grumbled and just followed behind him. 

arriving to the rooftop, you can already see miles’ mom looking around and as if she sensed miles, she quickly walked over to you guys. 

“miles donde estabas? you’re late to your own dad’s party? y/n thank you so much for getting miles here,” miles’ brows furrowed as his mom gave you all the glory for him being there.

“mom what? i got here just fine!” 

“no, thank y/n because i know she’s the responsible one out of the two of you,” you gave miles the same smug look that he gave you earlier and tilted your head a little higher.

“anyways, grab something to eat. miles, ven porque your dad and i want to talk to you for a minute” rio gave her son a look. 

you simply nodded your head and strolled off to make yourself a plate. sitting down on a bench somewhere, you tried to block out and avert your gaze from miles’ parents yelling at him. you felt bad that you couldn’t do anything especially when you know so much about him that others don’t understand. 

about an hour has passed since miles’ scolding and you didn’t want to approach him directly after to save him from embarrassment and allow him to take a few minutes to himself. you assumed that he went to his room and would come back in a couple minutes because you knew he wouldn’t completely miss his dad’s party. 

you engaged in small conversations with miles’ cousins and family members, but after a while they left to go eat or do their own thing. resorting to scrolling through your phone and watching a couple tiktoks when you feel a tap on your shoulder.

“mija, quien es esa que esta arriba con miles?” rio tilted her head in the direction where miles was. surprising you completely, miles was on the water tower with gwen laughing and nudging each other. looking and them and snapping your head back to rio who seemed a but agitated with her eyebrows quirked up. 

“uhh.. i think that’s gwanda? one of miles’ friends but she’s usually out of town. miles’ never mentioned her coming though…” you simply shrugged your shoulders. feeling a heavy weight in your stomach, you tried not to look over at them again. 

approaching behind rio was jeff. he had a similar expression as rio, brows furrowed and scratching his head. 

“she looks old enough to vote… and i bet she doesn’t even speak spanish,” rio kept talking about gwen which didn’t help you trying to block out the sinking feeling. jeff crossed his arms and kept looking over at them. 

somehow, rio convinced you and jeff to go up to the water tower and meet gwen. now, you’ve never met gwen but you sure have heard enough about her to know that she’s not a bad person. 

rio was stumbling to get up the tower and introduce herself to gwen. crashing into miles slightly, not caring a bit if she interrupted anything. “hello! i’m miles’ mom,”

“rio! i’ve heard so much about you!” immediately hearing those words come out of gwen’s mouth, you winced. you knew that rio was not about having first name bases with any one of miles’ friends. you glanced over at miles’ expression who seemed a bit worried. 

looking at the interaction was a bit odd and very awkward, especially with you standing next to miles’ parents doing nothing. you didn’t want to make a move to introduce yourself either, you didn’t know if there was anything for you to say really. honestly rio’s jokes weren’t making it any better either. hearing “don’t take him from me.. oh! you can’t cause he’s grounded haha” and “don’t break his heart” coming from rio’s mouth was just making you want to get bitten by a spider so you can turn invisible in that moment. 

gwen trying to escape the moment made up that she needed to get her steps in and go. turning around to give miles a handshake, she glanced over, noticing you in the corner. not wanting to be rude, you just gave a wave. she gave you a small smile until taking off down the stairs. 

once she left, jeff also left to return to the party leaving miles, rio, and you behind. miles ignored both of your presence and leaned against the railing, shoving his face into his hands. you went up to miles and rubbed his back.

“i’m sorry miles,” he glanced over at you and gave a sigh. you looked over you shoulder and looked at rio. she seemed to be thinking. deciding to give miles and his mom a little time to talk, heart to heart, you descended down the stairs. 

looking down at the city below you, millions of thoughts run through your mind. almost all of them being about miles. you wanted to help him, you wanted to be there for him in every way, but you just don’t seem enough. you didn’t know what to do and you don’t want to try to seem understanding when you have absolutely no idea what he’s going through. you just want him to feel at peace with you. there’s nothing you want more in the world than seeing miles happy. although the feeling in your stomach of knowing that miles’ happiness lies with gwen and not with you just made you nauseous, you knew you had to let him go. but, before you let him go… maybe you’ll try. 

seeing miles and his mom done talking, you see miles about to leave. getting a feel of adrenaline through your veins, you ran after him before he managed to take a step down the stairs. 

“miles! where are you going?” you cocked your head to the side.

“i’m going after gwen. there’s something going on and i’m going to follow after her,” he tapped his feet and glanced around as if he’s if a rush. 

“wait, miles what? you’re leaving? do you even know where you’re going?” 

“no, but i know that i’m needed y/n. i gotta go now like i have this feeling.” 

“wait so you’re skipping out on your dad’s celebration for a girl?”

“n- no! there’s something going on and i need to fix it” miles was starting to squirm eager to put on his suit and swing through the city.

“is there gonna be a day where you live for yourself? i understand that you’re spiderman and you help out the people, but you can’t be doing this constantly miles. you’re a highschool student and have so m-” 

“no, you don’t understand! no one understands! but there are people out there who will-”

“c’mon miles, don’t be like that. i know i don’t exactly understand because i was bitten by a spider or anything, but i’m trying to understand through you and being there for you!” the tone in your voice starts getting a bit higher.

“i just learned that there’s a way for me to see other people who are just like me! i need to go!”

“you know what miles? go. i’m trying so hard to be supportive but-”

“well you’re not. i don’t want to escalate this any farther. i’m going… bye y/n” before you could respond miles ran down the stairs leaving you with a lump in your throat. you didn’t want to start anything, you just wanted miles to try to get a piece of normality within his crazy spider life. 

sighing once more, you decided to sit on the ledge and look off into the distance wondering how you were gonna fix it between you two. 

[therealhousewifeofharrystyles]

Harry’s Home

Part II.

Read Part 1 Here!

Pairing/AU: Roommate!Harry // Roommate!Y/N

Word Count: ~ 8.7k words

⚠️ Content Warnings: Adult Language, Lots of Flirting, Pining, Sexual Desire, References to Body Weight (“Chubby” Reader), Mentions of Body-Type Biases, Fantasies of Rough Sex, Breeding Fantasies, ~Slow Burn~

My mom adores Harry (probably more than me, sometimes) and she’s confident that we’ll fall in love and get married within the next year or so. To Harry’s chagrin, his own mother seems to also be manifesting some sort of whirlwind romance to ignite within this cottage. Not to brag, but Anne Twist has already practically declared me as her daughter-in-law. She mirrors my mother’s doting of Harry, and I don’t mind it one bit. I’ve even heard Anne and Harry talking about me a few times during her brief visits to the states. Always pleasant things, thankfully.

One time, they were chatting in the kitchen while I’d just passed them to continue laundry in the room across the hall. I could hear every word—whilst I’m sure that Harry hoped to God I couldn’t hear any of it…but these walls are just so thin. 

“‘Scuse me, guys…just gotta get these goin’.” I smiled, making my way down the hallway with Harry’s clothes hamper. Before I’d passed by, I made eye contact with Harry for a brief moment. My heart sank as if I was nervous all of a sudden. I didn’t know why, but things felt weird that day. Between Harry and I, I mean. Normally, I wouldn’t even bat an eye whilst giving the man a quick greeting in passing. I lived with him, he was the first and last person I’d see and speak to every day, so I was used to his presence being a constant in my life. But that afternoon, something just seemed off. 

Maybe it had something to do with his mom visiting us—uh, I mean, him. Ugh, I’ve gotta quit making a habit out of grouping Harry and I together as a package deal. We’re not a couple. No matter how much his mom hugged and doted on me like I was her own daughter, the line was already drawn when we signed our lease.

That’s not to say that Anne has ever made me feel uncomfortable. Quite the contrary. It was strange how natural and familiar it felt to be around Harry’s mom. I suppose one thing that bothered me is that she’d tend to assume things about our relationship. And so the unavoidable reality of my roommate’s mother suspecting us to be more than just friends certainly made me a little uncomfortable. Actually, insecure would be a better word for it. I was insecure that I may have been too obvious in the way I care for Harry, and that I was stupid for even having thought he could feel anything similar towards me. 

I teetered between optimism and self-pity constantly. Men could be so complicated. Nay. Harry could be so complicated. But that’s beside the point. The real issue was the growing tension in the air…the flickering flame left unattended, slowly eating away at both Harry and myself for far too long. And Anne, of all people, would be the first one to bring attention to it.

Once I’d made it to the laundry room, I popped open the washing machine and dumped out all of Harry’s dirty clothes. I was truly minding my own business, drifting off in my own little world; but then I was yanked out by Anne and Harry’s restless banter that echoed down the hall and disturbed my relaxed state of autopilot.

“Oh, you’re cheeky, Harry.” Anne hummed. Even though they couldn’t see me anymore, my ears still worked fine from where I was. I don’t think Harry’s mom really intended to be quiet anyway. “What?” Harry asked after sighing. “Oh, don’t act so shy, dear. I’ve seen the way you look at her.” As the last words exited her mouth, it was like a light switched on inside of her. She gasped and swatted at Harry’s shoulder—him instantly reacting with a, “What I do?!” Anne then scoffed, “Why didn’t you tell me the two of you finally got together?!” A kaleidoscope of butterflies danced around the soft curls that cascaded down my shoulders and traveled south to tickle my belly. 

Harry looked at me…like that? In front of his own mother? So he wasn’t just a horny bastard…he was actually attract—

—“What on Earth are you talking about? Me ‘n her?!” Harry gestured towards the hallway. Anne pursed her lips and nodded. “Oi, tha’s ridiculous! Y/N and me?! Tha’s just…that’ll never happen…”

Oh, um…never mind.

“…‘Sides, mum, you’re mad if y’think I’d start somethin’ up' with my housemate. Just be makin’ things weird…She’s not even my type, anyway.”

I silently sighed out a breath and roughly dumped out the rest of Harry’s dirty clothes into the washer, a faint scowl adorning my face.

“Yeah, right. You can’t possibly expect me to believe any of that rubbish. I think you’re just afraid of getting hurt again.” I could tell by the sadness in her voice that she was frowning. “Oh, my poor baby boy. Don’t you think you should put yourself back out there, Lovie?” 

“No, no. It’s not because I’m afraid, mum. I’m just…I’m too busy. Vol. 6 is working on an autumn collection, and I’m in charge of the ad design. I’ve got a lot on my plate, you know?”

To be fair, Harry was actually getting pretty busy at work. He’d told me about the new campaign he’d been working on and how it needed to be approved by corporate by October. That meant he had a couple weeks to complete it. I was excited for him, as he’d become the brand’s lead marketing strategist earlier this year, which had provided him with a lot of decision-making power in his department. Surprisingly, the promotion made him slightly more humble, but in-turn, he was also a bit crankier at home. I think it was because he was overworking himself, honestly.

Anne huffed and said, “Well, not everything in life has convenient timing, dear. Y/N could get scooped up tomorrow and you’d have completely blown it f’yourself!” The front door opened and it sounded to me that they’d slowly made it out onto the front porch. Harry kept the door open, as there was a slight chill in the air and I assumed he was also feeling a bit flushed at the time, so the breeze was welcomed. Since Harry didn’t shut the door, I was still able to listen to their conversation from the laundry room. Though, their voices became less intelligible due to the distance and the outdoor ambiance.

“Oi, mum! Please keep your voice down!” I found it funny how Harry was claiming he had nothing but platonic feelings for me—that he was too busy and we weren’t compatible in that way at all—yet, he sounded so desperate to ensure I wasn’t able to overhear their discussion. If he didn’t care about me romantically, why would he be so adamant about keeping Anne’s volume down? Why would he be so defensive about it? It’s not like he’d be lowballing if he were to go for me. I may not be perfect, but I don’t have to be a skinny little model with legs for days—my body has curves to die for, and no man has to worry that he’ll break me in half. My feelings are fragile, but I can take a good, hard fucking any day of the week. Hell, I’d take it every day of the week if it were up to me. And for his information—I have…it’s just been a while…

“She’s doin’ your laundry, for bloody sake!” That was true, I was doing his laundry. But that was only because Harry’s always insisted that I do it. Ever since this one time when we were sitting on the couch together, and I was falling asleep watching tv. Attempting to get more comfortable, I’d stretched my legs out towards him and laid back against a pillow and the couch arm. Luckily for me, Harry was nice enough that night to let me get away with using him as a leg rest without any complaints. I also remember him starting to doze off. Instead of pushing me out of the way and going up to bed, he squeezed himself to lay behind me and spooned me. He nuzzled his face into my hair and into my neck, and then rested his cheek against my shoulder. I then heard the rumble of his sleepy voice as he said, “Mmh…you smell…s’sweet…kinda like vanilla…I like tha’…wanna smell ya all the time…you should wash my clothes f’me so I can smell you on me wherever I go…”

At the time, as I laid there in a soft daze with Harry’s strong, inked arms wrapped around my middle, his stubble scratching my neck, and something firm rocking back and forth ever-so-gently against my ass…my heart soared at his words, and I couldn’t bear to deny him his request.

Later, standing alone with an alert mind sans sexy, tattooed, British rake pressed tightly against my plush body—I was no longer swooning. Harry was perfectly capable of using the same combination of detergent, softener, and scent beads that I use. If he desired my aroma so badly, the ingredients would’ve been all he needed. I guess he was in charge of cooking and the dishes, so there wasn’t really an imbalance of responsibilities. But, damn. What a doormat I'd been for going through with that. He may be insanely hot, but he’s still just as stinky as the rest of them. Sure, I’ve been more than happy to fold all his clean clothes for him, but only if they’re fresh out of the dryer and smell all light and powdery like Downy.

“No, no, we split the difference! She’s got the laundry, and I’ve got the, uh…kitchen. Cooking and all tha’.” Even though he was responding defensively, he was only digging himself a deeper hole in front of his mother. She saw right through all those excuses, explanations, etc. So did I. However, Anne was approaching her disbelief a lot differently than how I would’ve if it were me who he was blabbing all that nonsense to. Granted, I didn’t raise him from infancy, nor had I even known the man for very long. But the truth was that Harry’s never been great at confrontation—well, when he’s on the opposite end of it, at least. And so he tended to struggle with his words whenever someone caught him at a time when he wasn’t prepared. 

“I know you’ve got feelings f’her, Gemma knows you do…hell, I bet Y/N even knows it! C’mon, Harry. You two are so cute!” Anne sounded absolutely delighted. I didn’t blame her, but I couldn’t share her same excitement.

Instead of stepping in and saving Harry from any further humiliation from his mother, I decided I’d just stay hidden and let him dig himself out on his own. He’s a grown man, he could fight his own battles. Besides, I was too busy doing his fucking laundry.

“I—Gemma’s a right nutcase, and you know tha’, mum!” Harry whispered.

“Oh, nonsense. Gem knows you even better than I do, Harry!”

I have to give credit to Anne for so shamelessly putting him on the spot like that. Typically, I was the one who tripped over the simplest of words and phrases. It’s just in my timid nature. But it was entertaining to hear someone else—someone who’s normally so haughty and snide—experiencing that kind of social mishap. Especially since that same person tended to use my weakness against me. Karma’s a bitch, huh, Harry?

“That pest—!” He seethed before Anne immediately cut him off.

“—Oi, hey! Be nice to your sister, Harry! You know, one day, when I’m all old and sickly…”

Harry furrowed his eyebrows.

“...You’ll want me to live with her! Keep up that attitude, boy, and you’ll be the one changing my diapers!”

Aw, what a Hallmark moment.

I wouldn’t have been surprised if Harry was white-knuckling the doorknob. I could picture it vividly—deep lines between his brows, nostrils flaring, his free hand held up to his bottom lip, whilst his sweet mother grinned ear to ear and pinched at his adorable, pink cheeks. “...Ooh, but Harry, lovie, it’s so exciting to think that once you and Y/N finally get together, I’ll have a second daughter! God, I just can’t wait for the wedding!” Anne squealed. Harry must’ve glared at his mother right then because I couldn’t hear him say anything. “Do you think you’ll have it here, or will we fly you back home? In that case, it’ll probably need to be a smaller ceremony, hm? ‘Could always have the ceremony in Holmes, and then close family can fly out for a reception here. I’ve heard of couples doing things of that sort…No matter—we’ll cross that road when we get to it.” She beamed with a quick laugh.

My cheeks hurt and I didn’t know why until I noticed I’d been fighting a smile. I felt childish. It was silly to consider all of that stuff even remotely possible—I mean, Harry and I being a couple. Thinking about us getting married…no, no…that could never happen. Just as he said.

“My grandchildren are going to be so beautiful!” Suddenly my fantastical mother-in-law sang from the front porch.

G-Grandchildren..? I’d almost dumped the entire jug of detergent into the washing machine at that one. Marriage was one thing. But giving birth to…m-m-multiple children?! 

I didn’t have any intention to have a baby—let alone babies, plural. I might’ve not wanted children at all…well, maybe one…or I could just forget about the classic American Dream and get a cat instead. I had no clue. But now I was thinking about it. 

More than just thinking about it, though. I was fantasizing.

My mind was locked on the specific scenario of Harry impregnating me. Marking me as his own. Sowing his seed deep inside my fertile cervix. Hot waves of liquid heat then soaked into the crotch of my panties. I guess my body was quite fond of that fantasy.

As the damp cotton between my generous thighs uncomfortably clung to my sensitive skin, I thought I’d might as well just add them to the wash. So I pushed them down my legs and stepped out of them before taking a moment to examine the evidence of my obnoxious downpour of arousal. I bit my lip at the sight of the large, sodden stain. How was that arrogant asshole able to do this kind of shit to me? He wasn’t even in the room!

I scoffed, shaking my head at the humiliating outcome of my sexual deprivation and desperation, and flung the soiled panties into the machine. Good thing I was wearing a dress where the skirt was long enough to cover my newly-bare ass and cunt. Well, provided I wouldn’t be standing at the even slightest off-angle. Lord, I was so grateful to have been out of sight as my body was bent over at the waist, reaching out for the fabric softener.

Whilst I kept on loading the washer, I was also daydreaming about my newest fantasy. 

Maybe I wouldn’t mind bearing Harry’s children…one wouldn’t be so bad, would it? I wouldn’t be all that against weaning off my birth control and letting the inevitable happen. You know…once he’d pump all his hot cum inside me…He could give it to me every morning before work…after work…before bed…in the middle of the night…hell, if he called me on a lunch break asking if I could take another load, I know I wouldn’t be able to resist. Standing commando in the laundry room got me wondering what Harry would do if I just started walking around the house with tiny little shorts and dresses and rompers with nothing on underneath (except for a bra, probably. I’d need the support). I was grateful for my large, gap-less thighs at that moment as I could sense that more moisture was threatening to escape down my wobbly legs.

I was trying my best not to peek out from the laundry room to witness the scene unfolding for myself, but I stood still with my back pressed against the washing machine, Anne’s words repeating themselves over and over again in my head. Whether any of that dreamy nonsense was true…that Harry had romantic feelings for me…it just wasn’t realistic. I had to remind myself that it was just a bunch of harmless teasing. That Harry’s mom was exaggerating the truth for a laugh. Making up elaborate future plans to get his goat. Yeah, that’s all it was. I could understand why she’d push Harry into throwing one of his lil’ man-tantrums—he’s awfully adorable when he’s stuttering and all red in the face, having the hardest time letting it go.

Growing curious, and not being able to hear them as clearly anymore, I moved myself out from the laundry room and closer towards them at the entryway. I still kept myself somewhat hidden behind one of the large wooden columns situated between the hallway and the front door, near the kitchen’s island counter. I was right when I assumed they’d already made it outside onto the front porch. Anne was so close to actually leaving, but I guess Anne preferred to do a Minnesota goodbye that afternoon. She proceeded to gush about Harry’s non-existent future with me, adding more details for wedding planning. Meanwhile, Harry was trying to keep her mouth shut in the most patient and polite manner he’d deemed possible. He’d already stayed silent through the comments about providing his mother with grandchildren, but it seemed as though she wasn’t going to end the discussion any time soon. It was time to take more drastic measures. He knew better than to be disrespectful towards his mother, and he never intended to blatantly disrespect her in any way. Except, by this point, Harry was reaching the limit of his patience. If it meant he could keep his personal business from reaching curious ears, he’d be willing to suffer the consequences.

“ALRIGHT! I GET IT! SHHHHH!” Harry was desperate to get her out the door as soon as he could at that moment. He’d never act that way towards his mother, otherwise. Anne, however, was not in the mood to tolerate his behavior. It didn’t matter that Harry was a full-grown, 30-year-old man. A mother will always be a mother. She gasped at the way her son tried to silence her and lightly smacked his shoulder. I saw it coming from a mile away, and I wasn’t even technically there.

“Don’t you shush your mother, Harry Edward.” She tsk-tsked. “But—!” Before he could even defend himself, Anne cut him off. “—Enough! Zip it.” The snap of her fingers made my mind create a hilarious image of Harry standing there at 6-feet tall, but presenting as a tiny toddler on the verge of a tantrum. I had to muffle my giggle with my hand.

Then, I decided to sneak a quick glance from behind the column. From where I was, I could see Harry leant up against our opened front door, his arms crossed over his abdomen, one set of long, ringed digits pulling at his lips. “Oi, and quit picking your lips! She’ll never wanna kiss you if you’re all chapped ‘n bleedin’, lovie!” 

“Oh, f’fuck’s sake!” He whisper-yelled. I heard him smack his palms down at his sides like some crabby 3 year-old having just been told to behave himself. Anne cracked up at her son’s childish display of whiny defiance. “Alright, well, I’ll head out now. Gotta give you two some alone time.” Harry’s mom hummed suggestively. I rolled my lips into my mouth and fought not to laugh out loud.

Then, I had a feeling that, to Harry, I must’ve seemed to be ‘minding my own business’ for a bit too long in the laundry room, and that I should’ve actually been finished with the chore by that time. Except I’d just been eavesdropping like a nosey-Nellie for their entire conversation. Mildly flustered, I bolted back to the laundry room, opened the dryer, and began to hastily pull all the warm towels and linens out from the front of the machine. I was pretty sure my breakaway was ‘smooth’ enough that they had no idea I was snooping. Well, I knew for sure that Harry didn’t…or at least that’s what I thought. 

It was a good thing towels aren’t able to make much of a ruckus when they’re dropped into a plastic basket. I made sure to fuss around—emptying the lint trap, reorganizing the coat-rack, gathering stray hangers, and clicking the ‘start’ button on the washing machine. I was doing all of that just to make up an internal alibi of sorts for having been putzing for so long. Just in case. 

In the midst of my rush to complete miscellaneous tasks, some of the dust from the lint trap puffed out into the air in front of my face as I was dumping it out, and I had to hold a knuckle to my nose in an effort to keep an incoming sneeze at bay. Eventually, the tickle died down and I could carry on dicking around and acting busy. 

“That’s a wonderful plan, Mum. Be seein’ you.” Harry sighed.

“I LOVE YOU, BOTH!” Anne called out with a slight amplification, intending to also inform me of her departure. “Love you, too!” I responded, almost instantaneously, also at the exact same time as Harry. My voice ricocheted against the walls and I knew I’d been much too quick to speak. My hand immediately slapped over my mouth once the words left my lips. There was no way I could’ve convinced Harry anymore that I’d been genuinely oblivious of their back-and-forth, innocently occupied by a pile of towels for the past 5-10 minutes. If he didn’t already know that I was listening in on them, Harry definitely realized it then. But everything just proceeded as usual—Harry grumbling back at his mother, returning her affections with a huff. 

“Um, also, could you let Gemma know that if she keeps running her mouth, she can bloody forget about her early-access to the autumn catalog? Cheers.”

The door closed after one final guffaw from Anne, and Harry hastily turned the lock before eventually releasing a frustrated breath into his hands. I decided it was a good time to get going with my chores.

A basket of warm washcloths, towels, and sheets was held between my plump hip and my soft hands. As I exited the laundry room, the heat radiating off the freshly-tossed cloth caused a flush of pink to wash over my skin. It was a nice contrast to the cool breeze that had entered through our front door. I made eye-contact with Harry who then let his hands drop from his face once he met my eyes looking through his fingers. Warmth radiated off of him like a space heater, his cheeks were flushed red, and it seemed as though he was burning up—unaffected by the bite of the autumn air.

Maybe he’d also been imagining the two of us making babies. Or maybe he was just mortified by the way his mother assumed our relationship to be more intimate than it truly was. It was possible that the idea of marrying me made him nauseous—and not just in an innocent, nervous way, either. Rather, he was disgusted by imagining such intimate things involving me.

Regardless, I found him adorable whenever he blushed like that. To me, his rare displays of bashfulness brought him back down to earth, and they reminded me of the fact that we were similarly human. Similarly sensitive. Similarly deep in our thoughts. I don’t know why he made a point out of telling Anne that I wasn’t “his type.” Obviously, he hadn’t had much lasting success with whoever fits into his “type,” so maybe he could use someone new for a change... 

As I approached him, I gave him a kind smile and greeted him with a simple question.

“So, what’s for dinner?” I beamed at him sweetly.

Right as I was a meter or two away from him, I suddenly needed to sneeze again. That incessant tickle that tortures the nostrils and sinuses before raging out of the body—it came back to sabotage me in that moment. My previous attempt at holding it in was deemed absolutely useless, as this time it felt like the sneeze doubled in magnitude purely out of spite. My body was fighting against me. The universe was laughing, finding my indignity entertaining. I guess that’s what I get for eavesdropping, huh?

I sniffled a few times—my last efforts to prevent the inevitable. But I had failed. I sucked in a deep breath before “achoo”-ing into my elbow. It was a loud, high-pitched sneeze. If I hadn’t known it came from me, I would’ve assumed the television was turned on in the living room, playing a children’s cartoon. At least I didn’t shoot snot onto my pretty, ruffled sleeves. Or worse, failing to cover my nose and mouth and sneezing right onto Harry. Gotta look for the silver linings, you know?

Unfortunately, my sneeze miraculously sent the blushing boy, who felt so close to my level, back up to his normal self—reuniting him with his high-horse, his pedestal, his soapbox, his big head, and everything else that keeps him standing at a mile taller than me. 

“Oh, my goodness…God bless you…” Harry bellowed, his hand pressed to his heart in mock-aghast. Though he was taunting me, I oddly didn’t feel ashamed or embarrassed. He paused and his lips formed the cruelest smirk before he continued, “…my sweet Bunny.” My thighs subconsciously squeezed together at him using his favorite pet-name he has for me. What I’d never let him know was how it was my favorite, too. 

“Humph, thanks.” I sniffled, trying my best to pretend unfazed by the special nickname. His eyes finally drifted down my figure, and it seemed he was parched due to the way he was drinking me in through his pupils. Everything around me, especially Harry, seemed massive compared to my shrinking frame. Perspectives were changing drastically, and I was no longer safe from Harry’s sharp scrutiny. I was aware I’d been the one to place myself under his spotlight—that I had the ability to stay in my lane and keep my nose clean—but I was too weak. I craved his attention. I was starving for it—for every inch of me to be thoroughly inspected and explored by that smug son of a bitch whilst he just stood there and acted like he owned me. 

I wanted him, and I wanted him bad.

My bottom-energy may seem readily accessible to Harry, but that’s only because he’s made it so easy for me to tempt him into his dominance. I just knew he was internally obsessing over how he’d further push me into submission. That’s one of the many reasons why being a sub is so liberating. I’m the motivation. I’m the star of the show. I’m the cum-dump. And God, I’d been wanting for so long to be all of those things and more for Harry. Only Harry.

As I continued walking in his direction, a washcloth accidentally fell onto the floor by his feet. “Ope, sorry…” I squeaked. I stepped up to him so that we were directly in front of one another. I dramatically dropped to a bend at my knees—spreading them widely apart in a bouncy crouch in order to retrieve the rogue towel, giving Harry a nice view of my cleavage as I stretched my arm downwards over my hiked-up skirt, intentionally pressing my breasts together with my straightened elbow. If only he was at a lower angle, then he could’ve seen a different set of drooling lips desperate for his cock…

Christ, alive—I am so glad I wasn’t ballsy enough to accidentally say that out loud.

His eyes followed my movements, but he stood in that same spot unwaveringly, not stepping away even a little bit. My confidence strengthened due to his intense fixation upon me. The basket I was holding at my waist was slightly tipping at the new angle whilst I was reaching for the washcloth. My gaze flickered down to the basket, then back up at Harry. Ambitiously provocative ideas and scenarios flooded my brain. I thought about what would happen if I were to dump the basket onto the floor on purpose just to provoke him. Perhaps he’d tease me for my clumsiness and help me. Or maybe he’d get pissy instead and leave me to my mess. My body reacted out of curiosity and desire before my brain had the chance to refute the idea. Well, you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take, right? 

The towels had poured out onto the floor at Harry’s feet in a massive heap. Letting out a soft gasp, feigning shock, I set the basket aside and knelt all the way down to sit on my knees. I blinked my doll-like lashes back up at Harry, whose stare never left me, and I couldn’t distinguish what he was thinking, let alone feeling. His expression was set in a firm deadpan. He could’ve been on the verge of an outburst, but he also could’ve been plainly unimpressed by my foolish antics. The man was annoyingly skilled at masking when he wanted to be.

I swallowed thickly at the silence. On the inside, I was kicking and screaming with regret. Why did I think he was going to play with me?! Why, after hearing him explicitly tell his mother that he wasn’t interested in me, did I believe it would be a good idea to get on my knees in front of the man?! He obviously didn’t desire me! I was humiliated. Rather than scrambling back onto my feet like a fool, I thought it would be best if I were to just stay in character. Hoe hard or hoe home.

“Oh, no…I’m sorry, Harry.” I managed to peep out without my composure cracking. My voice was small and cute, but it still held enough power to it that I saw Harry’s jaw clench. It worked. I finally saw him narrow his eyes down at me with a tight jaw and flared nostrils. Sure, Sarah warned me that he had a hot temper, but she never told me how sexy he gets when his buttons are pressed. I’d witnessed it myself a few times before this, but my body perceived it differently as I was down on my knees. 

My breathing became harsh, my cleavage rising and falling more noticeably as I anxiously awaited more of a reaction from the man before me. I realistically expected a snarky quip and an eyeroll. Inversely, his face gave the impression that he was frustrated and struggling to keep it together. I was confused as to why he hadn’t raised his voice at me yet. I expected him to be in more of a sensitive mood after his mother embarrassed him just a few minutes prior. I guess all that talk of marriage and babies didn’t have much of a negative effect on him after all. Harry stayed stoic, and his silent glare was locked onto me for a good minute. 60 seconds is dreadfully long when there’s nothing but steamy sexual-tension filling the room. My filthy mind had me imagine he was fighting his urge to throw me down prone onto the cold hardwood, lift my dress up over my ass, and spank me until I was begging him to fuck me. That was certainly my ideal outcome. 

Logically speaking though, I could tell from the speckles of amber in his sage eyes that his emotions were in the red zone—he was angry. It wasn’t because of the mess. No. 

Harry may be a himbo, but he’s not stupid. He knew what I was thinking, he knew why I was acting the way I was, and he definitely wasn’t going to let me get away with any of it.

He was hatching his own plan, and I was convinced a part of it was stretching this out for as long as he could physically restrain his primal instincts. It excited him to play this little game with me. How did I know? Because the bulge in his pants was almost at my exact eye-level, and I had no shame in looking right at it. 

Why wouldn’t I? That was my doing. I deserved to observe my hard work from my delicate little point-of-view.

Feeling a bit more daring after successfully bothering Harry with my suggestive positioning on the floor beneath him, I pouted my bottom lip and grabbed onto the bottom hem of my skirt, dragging it up and down my juicy thighs tauntingly yet sheepishly. The goal was to tease him and guilt him at the same time as if to tip-toe around being blatantly naughty. The breathy moan I’d added on top of it all definitely did him in because I saw his Adam’s apple bob as he gulped at the sound. 

My gaze fell back down to the tightness in the front of his pants for just a second or so, and I couldn’t help the giggles that escaped me. Once the reality of the situation finally set in, I was unable to hide my true intentions.

There I was—on my knees, looking up at him, my tits pushed out, eyes rounded and glossed over, my angelic face adorned with a devil-woman’s lip-biting grin, and the rate at which I was collecting each piece of laundry was just too agonizingly slow to be a legitimate attempt at the task. 

You know what…he could’ve pulled his cock out and fucked my throat right then and there. He could’ve pushed me down onto my back and flipped my skirt up before shoving himself deep inside my needy little cunt. He could’ve demanded me to sit pretty while he jerked off onto my sweet little face. He could have held me down and made me scream so loud that Anne would’ve heard me from her car, which was probably already 10 blocks away and counting at that point.

He had the ability to do whatever he wanted to me; I was physically and mentally incapable of resisting him. And yet, there I sat, my natural essence dripping down the backs of my thighs as Harry had me wrapped around his finger—and he didn’t do a single fucking thing to me. 

And so I huffed, and I repeated what I’d asked him previously before I sneezed, and before he said the one word that tipped me into my subspace.

“Humph…What are we having for dinner?” I asked softly, my voice sultry, yet impatient, and I had my arms crossed over my chest to emphasize my defiance towards him.

Harry took a deep breath and reached out to me. He caressed the side of my face and jaw with his gentle hand. I leaned into his touch as I awaited his answer. I was literally in the palm of his hand—I mean, if he was holding bread crumbs, I’d be licking it all up without a second thought. I would take anything and everything from him. What had this asshole done to me?

I felt his thumb slide up from my chin to fondle my bottom lip. It grazed from side to side for a while before he pulled downwards, tugging my lip down and releasing it. The gesture caused me to keep my lips separated for him. Harry took advantage of the small opening by pushing the same digit through to make contact with my slick tongue, and I instinctually gaped my mouth wider to grant him more access to my drooling entrance. He tapped the pad of his thumb onto my tongue a few times and I moaned at the taste of him—at simply the salt of his skin. My lips wrapped around his thumb and I gently suckled. I can’t even imagine how much of a desperate slut I made myself look like as I slowly nursed on his thumb and hummed against its warm tip with my eyes lazily rolling back. 

He just observed me in my catatonic bimbo state. He stood there and allowed me to put on that pathetic display on the floor at his feet for a few moments longer. I was sure he’d got just as much pleasure out of it as I did, as the sensual act taking place before him had forced a moan out of his throat.

He slowly pulled out of my drooling mouth and rubbed the wetness across my pink lips. 

“D-Did you hear me?” I whispered breathlessly against Harry’s slippery thumb, my lashes fluttering up at him. “Yes, love. Of course I heard you...” He sighed. Then, he bent down to a crouch, lowering himself down to my height so he could speak directly to me. “...But…I don’t think it really matters what we have, hm…?” My brows furrowed in confusion which made him smile. Then he continued, “...You’ll take whatever I choose to give you, won’t you, Bun’...?” 

His fingers raked through my hair lovingly as he said it. His voice was so soft yet the words so deafening at the same time. They pounded against my eardrums and almost knocked me on my ass when they left his lips. 

I just nodded in reply, my eyes and my mouth glistening as rays of the afternoon glow beamed in from the front window and illuminated my irises. Harry’s mouth twitched as if he was fighting a smile. He never once took his eyes off of me. I had all of his attention, and it was addicting.

“...Mmh, sweet girl…never you doubt these ears of mine, either…I can assure you, I hear everything…”

I couldn’t stop the helpless whimper that came out of me. It was like he was speaking to me through code—telling me much more than what his words were able to reveal.

The sun was setting beyond the glass at our home’s entrance. The air around us was almost bitterly chilly. I typically preferred the cold, but it seemed to be much more noticeable at the time. Goosebumps covered my arms, my neck, and my bare knees. I was feeling exposed and naked regardless of my dainty dress providing modesty.

But I could still feel Harry’s hot breath warming the cooled tip of my nose. His closeness cloaked my bare shoulders with security. Even though the wooden floor was bruising me, I felt entirely protected by Harry’s touch. By his presence. By his expressive adoration of me. My heart pulsed so hard against my chest, yet Harry seemed so relaxed. So calm. So strong. I needed him. I could not continue this ridiculous charade of ignoring my natural instincts just so that I can protect my feelings from potential social betrayal. His eyes bore into mine so deeply, so intensely. It was like they held me there, silently commanding me to keep being good for him. I’ve always been such a good girl for him. His best girl. 

Whatever he wanted, I knew at that very second that I’d obey each demand with a goddamn smile on my face. It didn’t matter what he desired to give me. Whatever it was, I would take it, no questions asked. I lived off of his affections, addicted to the attention he provided. Was he as intoxicated by this as I was? Was he holding back? Did he need me, too?

Before I could even stutter out a response, Harry rose back up to his feet—releasing me from his trance and his touch by curling a lock of my hair through his fingers and setting it bouncing free.

“...I’ll let you know when I’m ready for you, a’right?” He assured me kindly. 

I confirmed my understanding with a  subtle nod. My lips rubbed together and I swallowed the abundance of moisture that had threatened to drip down the sides of my mouth.

“Th-thank you.” I just about squeaked out.

With that, he smiled sweetly and backed away into the kitchen.

The next thing I knew, I was still sitting alone near the entryway, my fingers fiddling with the tag of one of the bedsheets from the pile. I was worried I’d made a puddle below me with my arousal, but my legs had been clenched too tightly for any of it to escape past my thighs. My knees were suddenly aching from the stiff support of the hardwood, and the clean linens—of which had been forgotten about since before I’d even taken them out of the dryer—were all cool and wrinkled. I shoved them all back into the basket as quickly as I could and hid in the laundry room until he called out to me that the food was ready. 

Harry was right. I took whatever it was he made for us that night without a second thought. If he hadn’t already served me a plate, I probably would’ve eaten out of his bare hands. My brain had completely shut down for the rest of the evening. I remember I had to take care of the ache between my legs right after our meal, it was so unbearable.  

That reminds me—didn’t he mention something about his ears? 

🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠

I typically get home from work before Harry does, and so my current state of rest and relaxation—coincidentally adjacent to the book I’m holding: My Year of Rest and Relaxation—is an occurrence Harry’s used to coming home to by now. I mean, not that he’s coming home to me. He’s just…coming home, and I also happen to be living here. Speaking of which, I’m situated in my bedroom. I've already slipped into my night clothes—thin, loose pajama pants and an oversized crop tee—laying my back against the cushioned headboard of my bed. 

Suddenly, my ears perk up. The hum and vibration of the garage door opening and closing pulls my attention away from the novel I’d been engrossed in for the past hour towards my empty door frame. Less than a minute later, a door slams, physically startling me, and my posture straightens as if I’m expecting a scolding from an authority figure. I have no reason to react this way, really. It’s not like this is anything out of the ordinary.

Harry’s home.

That’s all. But judging by the door slams, I should prepare myself for the likelihood that Harry’s had a bad day (again). He’s been so overworked lately, but he doesn’t like to talk out his stressors in much detail or duration because it just riles him up more. More accurately, in his own words:

“I appreciate that you care, Bun’. I do…but it’s just too complicated…’s too much to get into right now. Think I’m just gon’ meditate, or whateva’.”

His therapist definitely had more to advise him beyond meditation, but I think that Harry just cherry-picked whatever was closest to what he’s accustomed to…and so he thinks that his isolation method is perfectly justified (as long as he calls it meditation). He’d never admit to that, though; and I’d never call him out on it either. I know better than to poke an angry bear.

Harry believes he can continue living and avoiding the inevitable, but I have a good feeling that he’ll take me up on my offer sometime soon. I just want to help him relax. Help him release some of that built-up tension. However, he prefers to hide himself away whilst simmering in a fuming silence until his primal instincts are numbed away. 

I wished that I could be some sort of Black Widow to his Hulk—although the incredible sulk would be more like it…but he can’t stand being around anyone when he’s angry, not even me—nay—especially not me. 

I can’t help but to feel somewhat unworthy. As if Harry isn’t comfortable enough with me to unpack all of his emotional baggage. Or maybe it’s not that I feel unworthy, per say, but rather that I’m sick and tired of waiting for him to make a fucking move on me already. I’ve been patient for so long. The least he can do is use me as his stress relief…in whatever way he needs to. Honestly, I’m not picky anymore. I’m dying for anything he can give me at this point. 

We've had our arguments as I’ve mentioned. He'll seclude himself in his bedroom for an hour and eventually knock on my door once he’s cooled down to apologize. The vulnerability and innocence he shows me is quite sweet. I appreciate that side of him. And I understand that the man needs his space. It makes sense to me because whenever I’m upset, I’d prefer to be alone as well. So each time Harry taps his rings all melodically against my door after one of his little fits, I always acknowledge him warmly by opening the door and pulling him in for a hug. Emotional compatibility is one of our greatest strengths as…friends. I think he appreciates me in that way, too.

It’s become a thing with us now—ever since the day that I cried. I’ve never shared a closeness like this with another person until I moved in with Harry. We have this mutual understanding that home is a feeling, not a place. And honestly, I’ve internally accepted the fact that it wouldn’t have mattered where we would’ve lived—as long as I was with Harry, I’d be at home. 

To me, Harry’s home.

One time, we brought this topic up…Harry likes to refer to it as the ‘kindness law’ or something like that. Harry began with, “Well, I jus’ wanna treat you the way I wanna be treated—w’kindness.” He sighed, plopping onto his back on his bed and resting his hands behind his head, looking at me. I stood at the foot of his bed with my hands on my hips. He not-so-subtly raked his eyes over my figure and smirked to himself.

“So, you’re gonna be nice to me now that I’m doing your laundry, Styles?”

He chuckled and scooted up the bed until he could rest his back against his headboard. “Mmm, tha’s right. I do have you doin’ my wash. Y’so good to me, Bunny...” I rolled my eyes and turned to walk out, but Harry quickly grabbed my hand in protest. “…Oy, where y’goin’?” I looked back at him over my shoulder and giggled. “What, Harry.” I asked with a bored voice, but a cheeky smile on my face to counteract it. “Wasn’t finisshhhhed-uh!”

I was typically the whiner, so I was immediately cringing at the sound of Harry’s attempt at my art. He playfully tugged on my arm until I clumsily toppled over face-down onto his bed, and he chose my giggle fit as the perfect time to continue his speech about…whatever it was he was talking about.

“Alright, now that the class is all here…let me continue…” He boasted confidently. I slowly calmed down and propped myself up onto my elbows next to his lap, my loose curls messed and my oversized, off-shoulder sweater disheveled enough that he now had an excellent view of what was beneath my sweater: my ample breasts and the plunging push-up bra holding them up. 

I smiled and nodded my head, signaling for him to carry on. He cleared his throat and ran a hand awkwardly through his hair. 

“So…” He hesitated, noticeably struggling to remember what he was saying previously. “Kindness?” I reminded him. “Yes, yes…kindness. Uh…well, uh…Home is where, um, where love’s made, or whateva’, yeah?”

I practically squealed and I added, “Ooh, yeah! Home is where we make all the love, huh, Harry?” Harry just blushed and shook his head. He was trying desperately not to stare at my chest as my lower half sunk down onto the floor and I held my hands and breasts against the edge of his bed whilst I wheezed with laughter. He spent the following 10 minutes with a pillow over his lap and he eventually asked me to leave because he was tired…

The only reason this had been remotely funny beyond our shared childish humor was because neither of us had anything going on in that department for ages. Actually, come to think of it, I don’t think we’ve ever discussed each other’s sex lives. But what I know for certain is that both of us have been extremely horny. It’s been dreadful. According to Mitch, Harry hasn’t had sex in at least a solid year and he can’t even remember who he last slept with. 

Apparently, there’s just this vivid memory Harry has of not being able to stay hard, the other person complaining, and then everything suddenly stopped. Harry quickly grabbed all his clothes and just rushed straight out the door to drive back home to me. The only reason I can attest to this rumor of Mitch’s is that I remember when he came home that night. He reeked of cheap, floral body spray, his eyes were puffy as if he’d been sobbing the whole car ride home, and he burst through the door calling out for me. He apologized if he had woken me up, as it was a bit past midnight. However, I was still up watching reruns of The Nanny and nursing on a pint of ice cream when he came home, so I just laughed at him. He told me to pause the show and hurried to his bedroom to change his clothes. I silently thanked God he did because the second-hand perfume stench was stale and it made me a little nauseous. His natural scent is much more pleasant than whatever that girl was wearing. Not to mention a part of me died inside at the thought of Harry being close enough to another girl for that long to come home smelling so strongly of her.

Once he’d switched into new clothes—a fitted t-shirt and flannel pajama pants—he’d climbed up onto my bed and eventually squirmed his way into laying his head atop my thighs. My hand brushed through his soft curls that had loosened into waves by that time. I think he fell asleep in my lap after one episode. It felt so natural in the moment that I, myself, started to doze off. And so I turned the tv off and pulled the man’s lean body down onto the pillows so I could be the big spoon and I held him. We fell asleep like that.

The next morning, I woke up and he’d already left my bed. It hurt me to see he was gone. But I had no reason to take it personally. He’d just had a rough night and he needed some love. I was happy to have been the one to give it to him—even if it was just some innocent, virtually-platonic cuddling, and nothing more. A part of me still ached a little bit whenever I thought back to how Harry chose to release himself from my arms and abandon the cozy nest we’d unintentionally made together. Maybe that was just the lonely part of me feeling that way. I’m not gonna lie, it’s been a while since I’d been sexually intimate with someone as well. I’ve never brought anyone back to the house (neither has he), but Harry always notices when I get dressed up to go out and then come home late…and he knows I was with someone else because—similar to the way his scent had been overcome by a putrid cloak of trashy body spritz—my signature scent would also be significantly altered. It causes a stir in Harry. He knows how childish it is to huff and puff to himself in his bedroom as he waits for my arrival. He knows he shouldn’t be upset when the two of us aren’t romantically involved. And he knows I‘ll always come trudging my way back home…back to my own bedroom where I end up finishing the job for myself. Regardless of his understanding of the situation, Harry refuses to act upon it. Refuses to take initiative. And I have no fucking idea why.

🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠 🏠

Part 3

Writer's Notes: Hi, everyone! Ok so there will be at least 2 more parts to this baby. Again, I'm sorry I suck at updating regularly. I have a job and stuff lol. Also I'm a compulsive perfectionist when it comes to my writing, and I'll re-read my work and edit it until it's a million pages long...but I hope y'all like what I post and that you wanna read more! Please like, reblog, follow, send me messages/requests/submissions/anons, and let me know if you wanna be on my taglist! And I appreciate any and all feedback you can give me. Truly. Thank you for reading. :) xoxo - Regan <3

@victoria-styles @daphnesutton @pishhhh20989

[hazelnut-u-out]

What would your ideal Morty therapy appointment look like (assuming that he went alone)? 🤔

Going to try to answer this even though my brain feels like mush, lol.

So, there are quite a few things I'd like to see. Obviously, I wouldn't expect a single episode to actually tackle every aspect of what therapy would realistically look like for a character like Morty, but hey-- at this rate, every episode aside from 'Fear No Mort' that's attempted to psychoanalyze him hasn't done the best job, I fear... *cough cough*

Anyway, here are some of the things I'd like to see addressed in an actual therapy setting (importantly, not some other form of psychoanalysis, like the Fear Hole, Roy, etc.):

Autism/Pilot Disability

It bothers me every day that the writers never followed up on that throw-away line about Morty having a disability in the pilot. Obviously, I headcanon that he's autistic (I mean, surely that's half of the dynamic with Rick right there, lol). I personally think that Rick and Morty have some autistic traits that present to the opposing extremes. For example, I think Rick struggles with hypo-empathy and Morty with hyper-empathy. I think Rick excels in math where Morty excels in English/literature. I think Rick struggles to mask and Morty is high masking. Rick just doesn't people please to survive in the same way Morty has been socialized to. (Most of this is my interpretation of the characters, but there are scenes that back up my points, as I'm sure you've caught onto, haha.) I think it would be cool to see Morty open up about feeling ostracized from his peers, struggling to make friends his own age, struggling with feelings of being 'behind'/weird/awkward, and how all of that made him the perfect victim. This is probably the least likely of my wants to be addressed in a therapy setting. I think that if they confirm it, it'd be in a pretty lowkey way, similar to what they did with Rick. I think the cold open for 'Mort: Ragnarick' might've actually been an indication that Morty isn't neurotypical, but we knew that already. I actually sort of headcanon Goldenfold's class as a remedial math course because of how simple the math seems to be, though I'm sure it was initially just some math they threw in for the pilot.

2. Grooming...

This is a tough one to include. Morty has been with WAYYY too many older women throughout the course of the show, but Planetina in particular gives me the chills. I would love to see how that's impacted him, or maybe even how his abusive dynamic with Rick and his neglectful relationship with his parents pushed him into that vulnerable position even more.

3. Mommy Issues (or neglectful parenting in general)

This one is a good follow-up for the last one. Morty's dynamic with Beth in 'A Rickconvenient Mort' is something I literally get up in the middle of the night just to think about. It makes my chest ache. I think it's because I know exactly how it feels to be Morty in that situation. When your parents constantly downplay your own feelings, put you in dangerous/vulnerable situations with reckless abandon, and completely shut you out emotionally it can feel like they just want to ruin your life when they try to protect you. To be honest, the show's dynamic wouldn't exist without Beth's negligence. Morty has two moms and neither of them have really tried to protect him. Even Jerry failed him.

4. Crying.

Idk, just lots of it. He deserves to cry about whatever he wants and be validated.

5. Justifying Rick's Actions

I would LOVE to see Morty try to explain Rick's actions away to someone who actually cares if he's being abused. I could see Morty say something to a therapist, there be a negative reaction or uncomfortable silence, and him try to say: 'It's really for my own good, though, you see...'/'You just don't know Rick the way I do. I'm the only one who really gets him...'/'It would break Mom's heart...'/'He would never hurt me on purpose...' Then to have a professional get in there and really debunk that internalized manipulation? I would die (in a good way).

5. Trauma Responses

They've sort of been hinting at this for a bit, but I think the whole point of Rick's improvement-- at least, in Morty's case-- is 'too little too late.' Rick may be getting better, but how is Morty supposed to trust him? Especially when Rick has been 'nice' for the express purpose of hurting him before? Even in his everyday life, I'm sure he has those moments of anxiety/dread/odd behavior because of the shit he's been through.

There's more, but my brain is fried right now, so maybe I'll revisit this ask later. Anyway, this was fun to think about! Thanks for asking! <3

[luckykittens198]

When Your Dad is a Pillar of the Universe 3

Little Kim Rok Soo always know his father was weird. His mother is fine, if a little ditzy. But his father is just weird.

One, his father always have 2 things with him, a crystal pendulum bracelet and an old antique western coin.

Two, his father's eye color changed. Most of the time they were light brown, sometimes they are black, but at certain times they are so dark it felt like lights can't escape from it.

Of course, Little Rok Soo already asked his mother about his father. "Your father's eyes? They used to be dark brown, but after the accident they turned a bit lighter. The Doctors said there could be some damage to his eyes, but everything seems fine so we didn't bother." Little Rok Soo didn't really understand what his mother said but nodded anyway.

Also, his father always speak about weird things. Like the first time Kim Rok Soo went to childcare since his parents have urgent works. "Rok Soo, whatever happens, just call the teacher alright?" he said. Little Rok Soo noted that his father's eyes were a bit darker than usual.

Little Kim Rok Soo noted his father's hands were always trembling. But when his eyes turned dark, the tremble would stop. "Hm? Why not keep my eyes dark you ask? What do you mean by that?" His father ask back.

After Kim Rok Soo explained his reason, his father chuckled. "You are quite the observant child aren't you? Honestly, I don't really like having my eyes going dark as you say."

Kim Rok Soo asked why. "Hm, when my eyes goes dark like that, I can see.... fate, I suppose is the closest one. Let's not tell your mother about this hmm? This is a secret between us men."

Kim Rok Soo didn't understand what fate is. But this is a secret between his father and him! How exciting!

So his father was weird. And that's fine. Kim Rok soo loves him anyway.

Until one day, when Mom was busy packing for their vacation celebrating Kim Rok Soo's 6th birthday, Dad, Father came to Kim Rok Soo's room. His eyes seems to absorb all lights in the room.

"Dad?"

"You've grown well little one. Do you know the meaning of your name?"

"What do you mean?"

"Little Rok Soo. You were born in the time between the end of Fall and the start of Winter. That's why your name is Rok Soo. Green Rok and exceptional, growing Soo.

This is your mother's prayer, and my blessing for you. For you to always grow green even in winter and bloom exceptionally."

Kim Rok Soo is still confused. He didn't understand why his father is acting weirder than usual.

His father chuckled again, "Little one, there will be hardship ahead. As long as you survived through it, you'll certainly find happiness."

"But you will be there, right?"

"Who knows. Who knows what fate will bring," Kim Hyun Woo crouched closer to Kim Rok Soo. He brought Kim Rok Soo's forehead closer to his.

"But know this Kim Rok Soo, you are my son. I won't abandon you without reason."

There was a few seconds of silence between the two. "Dad, you are scaring me," Kim Rok Soo whispered.

Immediately, light returns to Kim Hyun Woo's eyes. He smiled a strange smile, a funny smile, a ridiculous smile. "Sorry, I guess the topic is too heavy. Are you done picking your toys?"

Kim Rok Soo nodded and soon forget this weird conversation. He brought his chosen plush toys to his father.

"I'll bring Mr. Blue Octopus, Mr. Red Socks, and Ms. Dragon!"

"Hahaha! Alright. Let's ask your mother if they can join us!" And so they went.

Later, many years later. a few months before the apocalypse, a man wearing old victorian era suit appear before Kim Rok Soo. He had that weird smile his father gave him before the accident. His eyes too, absorbed all light that enters it.

"We meet again little one. You've grown well."

Prev Next

[typicalopposite]

Shassie prompt- one of them is feeling sorry for themselves (make it as angsty of you'd like) but the other one comes in and tells them how great they find the other because it's the only way they know to help (bonus points if it's pre-slash and they're trying desperately not to add "and I love you" to the end of the reasons they like them because they think it's one sided while the other is like 'I didn't think I could fall for this guy any more but I just did')

Ok so… heh… this got a little longer than intended and became a full fic 👀 I’ll probably throw it on ao3 later!

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3

Lassie has been quiet…er than usual.

He’s never been a big conversationalist; unless, of course, you were talking about the law, or weapons, or that little revolutionary role play thing he’s into— that’s beside the point… He is overtly quiet today. He’s not clapping back at Shawn’s antics with his snark, and teasing… or threats. He honestly seems a little sad. 

It’s weird enough Shawn has asked if he was okay several times. He got an “I’m fine,” once; an “I said I’m ok, Spencer” the second time; then it was “if you ask me one more time I’m going to rip your foot off and shove it down your throat!” So Shawn stopped asking after that. But he still senses that Lassie is lying to him. 

He’s clearly bothered by something. It’s driving him crazy that isn’t able to deduce it down to anything. “You need to leave this alone,” Gus tries as he speed walks to keep up with Shawn. “Lassiter is going to kill you if he finds out you’re asking people about his business.”

“Gus… don’t be the little engine that couldn’t,” Shawn says before taking a sharp left into Chief Vick’s office and closing the door before Gus can get in.

He pulls the blinds closed, too, and spins on his heels; Vick is looking up at him from her mountain of paperwork. “Can I help you Mr. Spencer?”

“Uh— yeah, Chief,” Shawn says, giving her his brightest smile. “I’m hoping you can, anyway.” Shawn licks his lips trying to think of the best way to go about pleading with her to spill the Lassie-tea. “You see, you are so amazing at what you do. You run this department with such care and compassion… you have a good relationship with all the people who work under you. Heck I bet you even know all their juicy personal details.”

“You want me to tell you why Carlton seems off today.” 

“Oh my god, Chief! I didn’t know you were a little psychic too,” Shawn says with a grin. “But yes. I mean… you see it, don’t you? It’s driving me crazy!” 

She laughs, shaking her head and signs her signature on the form in front of her. “Mr. Spencer, I do—as you said—have a pretty good relationship with all the people who work under me. What makes you think I am just going to tell you about my head detective’s very personal and private business?” 

“Well—” Shawn says, pauses, and tries to think of a good reason she should tell him. “I just— I want to—”

“You want to help him,” she finishes. Shawn nods. “Yeah, well,” she says, with a laugh. “Couldn’t you just… find out from the spirits?” She cocks a brow and smirks. 

Shawn laughs. Shit. “Actually, well… unfortunately it doesn’t work like that. They tell me what they want to tell me. And they are far less appreciative of me coming to them for personal matters than you are…” 

“Ahh, I see…” Vick sets her pen down, and sighs. “Listen, when you go back out there… Can you ask Carlton to check his calendar and make sure he has his next scheduled evaluation with your mom written down, so he doesn’t forget it.” She lifts her brows, waiting for Shawn’s response. 

“Uh… yeah sure Chief,” he says. She smiles and nods towards the door, so he turns and walks back out into the bullpen. 

Gus is leaning against the wall, arms crossed and pouting. “Well, did she tell you anything?” 

“Actually… I think she did,” Shawn says, trying to wade through the confusion to the meaning for his given task. They make their way towards Jules desk, but Shawn stops first at Lassie’s; he notices Lassie's hands. How they are loosely clasped together as he watches a security clip from a robbery case he’s working on. One finger gently strokes the space in his left ring finger where a wedding band once sat. “Hey man, Chief said make sure you have your next appointment with my mom written down.” 

Lassie looks back at him like he’s just said the most outlandish thing ever. He shuffles through the mess on his desk, pulling his calendar from under the paperwork. “Don’t be ridiculous, of course I wrote it down… Faster I get it over with, the faster your mom can leave me the hell alone.” 

Shawn zeroes in on his calendar. There it is! Chief Vick, you sly dog. Today’s date is circled; Anniversary penned in Lassie’s nice and neat handwriting. 

~~~

Shawn and Gus hang around the station until everyone is leaving for the day. Not because Gus wants to… but because Shawn now has a plan and if it falls through—which is the more likely outcome—he needs Gus there to give him a lift back to the office. “What are we waiting for, Shawn?”

“Shhhhh,” Shawn hisses, watching the stairs for Lassie to finally come down. 

When at last the detective turns the corner he hears Gus suck his teeth next to him. “I told you to leave it alone, Shawn… he clearly isn’t going to—” Shawn is already crossing the room towards the stairs, he is vaguely aware of Gus saying he’s leaving without him. Oh well, he’ll just have to walk off the rejection then. He takes a deep breath and stops in front of Lassie. 

“What the— what do you want Spencer?” 

“Uh— erm— I just wanted to see if… you felt like going out for some drinks,” Shawn says, sticking his hands as far down his pockets as they will go.

Lassie narrows his eyes. “Who told you?” 

“Wha— hah— told me what? No one told me anything!” Lassie’s eyes burrow into him, and he can feel his face heating up. He goes to lift his hand to his temple, fully prepared to put on his whole bit to drag him out of this hole. Instead he drops his arm and sighs. “Look man, it doesn’t matter how I figured it out… What matters is me helping you get over this hump—which ironically is on hump day,” (it’s Wednesday) he laughs; Lassie does not. 

“I just want to go home, Spencer,” Lassie sighs. He seems too deflated to argue, otherwise Shawn is sure he wouldn’t let the whole ‘who told you’ thing go. “It’s been a long day. I’m tired… and I have to go home to an empty house and spend what was supposed to be a celebratory day alone; just another reminder that maybe she was right about me.” He exhales, long and slow, running a hand over his face. “Now I’m sitting here telling you all this like you even really care.” 

“I do,” Shawn says, maybe just a little too quickly; a little too enthusiastically. “Come on, Lassie! You got so much going for you, don’t let one person’s image of you get in the way. You are tall and dark—minus the few grays but we’re gonna ignore those—and hawt.” He says it in a playful voice to cover up the fact he very much means it. “You have the ability to crack jokes unintentionally and in the middle of an anger fueled insult.”

“These don’t seem very—”

“Aht, tut tut…” Shawn says, throwing up a finger in his face. “I’m not done!” Lassie groans and crosses his arms. “You are an amazing detective, and you genuinely care about justice… you just care with a very angry and uncaring stature. You’re smart, and talented—especially with a gun…

.

.

.

…you’re a good driver—although most cops are probably too scared of you to give you a ticket, that's beside the point.” 

“If I just agree to get that drink with you… will you please shut up?” Lassie asks. His arms are no longer crossed, and he actually has a soft smile on his face. “Good god you sound obsessed with me.”

Maybe I am… just a little. Shawn admits to himself. He can’t help it, he's practically head over heels in love with him after all. Not that Lassie would ever know that… or reciprocate it. “I— uhm— yeah, I’ll shut up now.” 

“Okay,” Lassie laughs—like, legitimately laughs—and Shawn’s insides do a cartwheel. He goes in his pocket, and groans. “Shit I left my keys on my desk. I’ll be right back.” 

“Okay— yeah— I’ll be— I’ll be here.”

Lassie turns and disappears up the stairs passing Vick on the way. She smiles, chuckling to herself as she descends. “Wow,” she says down to Shawn. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen that look before.” 

“What look? Did he seem upset?” Shawn asks.  “No… he definitely did not seem upset,” Vick replies. “You two… have a good time.” She pats Shawn on the back and walks past him, not saying another word.