#i wrote this after two glasses of rosé ! so ! let's go

[jxmis]

Wish You Were Sober

Pairings: Rosé Park x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Roseanne Park have been best-friends for years now. Having finished wrapping up your show before blackpink's last performance at Coachella, you decide to show your support and fly out to LA and watch them. But maybe that wasn't such a good idea. Not after the events that had happened after the afterparty. Everything has changed. (sorry i suck at doing summaries)

Warning(s): angst

A/N: a lil inspiration by Wish You Were Sober by Conan Gray. Soooo I'm having major pcd after seeing BP last saturday soo decided to write for my bias wrecker. I literally just thought and wrote of this a few hours ago. Same with the picture T_T. I also have been writing jennie, lisa, and chaewon fics. Posting whichever I get done first after this one! Enjoy! :)

Rosanne Park isn't usually one to party hard. She isn’t the usual person to get wasted either. It's rare for that to happen.

But as they wrapped up their final night headlining Coachella, a party was thrown for their successful two shows. Being the first k-pop act and girl group to headline, making history! Of course, she had to live it up.

However, one shot became two, three, and even taking a couple sips of margarita. Those who are close to Rosé know that she doesn't have a high tolerance when it comes to alcohol. She's a lightweight.

You being a lot more responsible and smart, only took a few sips of your alcoholic beverage. You handle your liquor pretty well.

You see Rosé's manager trying to talk some sense into her but it seems as Rosé is being stubborn. You sigh, you approach them. Jane looks at you with a pleading look, you nod and gesture for her to go. She silently thanks you, softly patting Rosé's cheek before leaving.

"C'mon, Chae, you've had too much to drink." You carefully and softly put hand behind her back. Rosé shakes her head in protest.

"Y/N/NNN!!! Nooooo 'm havin sooo much funn!" She slurs. She leans against your shoulder, resting her head on it. She looks at you a smile bright on her face, bringing the glass close to you. "Have some! It's sooo good!" You take the beverage away from her hand causing her to pout.

"We're leaving, Chae. You've had your fun. Time for you to rest." Despite her protest, you drag her out of the party. She eventually quits whining and resisting. She sulks instead. "You'll thank me in the morning for this." You offer her support which she gladly takes as she's walking. She's so drunk to the point that she can't even walk straight.

You thankfully arrive back to Rosé's place safely. You did your very best to cover up Chae from the horde of paparazzies as you leave the party. Your bodyguard and Rosé's, as well as her manager using flashlights to ruin their photos.

--------

You look after Rosé. Even when the aftereffects of drinking so much alcohol led her to throw up. You help sooth her by holding her hair and caressing her back. Letting her know you're there and not going anywhere. As soon as you saw her hand on her stomach and a grimace on her face, you knew. You’re quite thankful you were able to get her to her room and rush her into the bathroom.

"It's okay, Chae. I've got you," you say softly. A minute goes by after Rosé seem to have let it all out. You clean up her face and begin her night time routine. You've slept over a good amount of times to have memorized it all. You help her brush her teeth and awkwardly had to help her change into pajamas. It wasn't easy doing that second part with your eyes close. But to your surprise, she was very compliant.

You are so focus on helping her, making sure she's okay that you didn't notice how quiet she's been. "Hey.. you okay?" You say as she settles on her bed. That's when it hit Rosé. Tears starts to pour down her eyes. You panic. You forgot how emotional she gets after everything when she gets drunk. It's been awhile since you've done this. You quickly sit next to her. "What wrong? Don't cry, Chae. It's okay! You're safe."

She sits up and clings onto you. You wrap your arms around her, rubbing her back. First, she repeatedly apologizes. "Thank you for always being there for me and taking care of me, Y/N/N." She says in a hush tone still clinging tightly onto you.

Even though she can't see you, you smile. "Don't apologize, you did nothing wrong. You were just having fun and you deserve to have fun. You know I'll always be here when you're in need." You pull away, bringing your hands on her cheeks, wiping her tears away. "Even if it's having to watch you throw up and clean you up after." You both laugh at that. You smile triumphally at your success on making her laugh.

You move a strand of hair out of her face. Wiping the tears that still remain on her cheeks. Meanwhile, Rosé's eyes remain on you. You notice. The mood suddenly changes in the room. The way Rosé is looking at you... it's different than usual. Maybe you've seen it once in a while whenever you two hung out before. But you always thought you were being delusional. A look that holds so much feelings, unspoken ones.

You see her mouth move but nothing comes out. She closes it and suddenly you see her eyes move to your lips. It catches you off guard. Trying to take it all in, you then feel her lips touching yours. It takes you a minute to process everything. Coming to your senses, you quickly pull away. Rosé opens her eyes. She can see the shock and confusion on your face.

"Chae... what are you.. what are you doing?"

She swallows the lump on her throat. What is she doing? It felt right though. "I- I don't- I don't know." Rosé manages to stutter out, trying to keep her tears at bay. "I just- I thought- Oh god, I'm so sorry." She covers her mouth, surprise with her actions as well.

You get up from her bed and run your hands through your hair. A million thoughts going through your head. Rosé watches you just standing there, stressed out. Now, she's really full on crying. What had she done? She ruined everything. You let out a deep sigh, "Its okay.. it's okay, you're drunk. Under the influence. It was the alcohol in you. Just- Just get some rest, Chae." You hesitantly approach her and kiss her head. "Good night."

"I like you!" Rosé calls out as you're heading towards the door. You freeze. "I like you so much, Y/N. For so long now. The alcohol coursing through my veins just gave me the courage to finally do something about it. So, please stay." She begs.

Silence fills the room after Rosé's confession. There's no way all this time, Roseanne Park, your best-friend has had a crush on you. You sure would've notice if she did... right? She'd never showed any signs that she had romantic feelings for you. You know her like the back of your hand! This is all because she's under the influence. That's all. She's just saying crazy things.

Without looking back, You bow your head down. "That's real sweet, but I wish you were sober," you whisper out. With that, you leave the sobbing blonde's room, silently hoping she heard you. Maybe even remember all of this in the morning. You doubt it.

"But I really do," Rosé says softly, the tone of her voice so sincere... fragile.

[rosenallies]

JK ONE MORE it just came to me. smut 6 + 8 for bimbo au, I feel like they go so well together ❤️

Ok ok ok so hear me out . I Know this is not at all what you asked for, I did use the numbers u requested BUT just hear me out, ok..I wrote the little phone sex au one about them smoking pot and then I started thinking about this one and I took an edible that was 5mg instead of 10 and I felt like not so stupid high that I couldn’t write anything so . <3 unless this is totally stupid then feel free to yell at me 🫣🫣

6. “i didn’t like the way they were looking at you.”

8. “i’m going to ruin you.”

——

“Ok, ok, I hold it like this?” Rosé asked, holding the joint between two fingertips, mimicking bringing it to his mouth and inhaling.

Denali rolled his eyes affectionately, sitting beside Rosé on the bed. “Here, let me show you.”

He took the joint and put it between his lips, gesturing for Rosé to light it for him, his nails making it nearly impossible. Rosé lit it and watched as Denali took it between his thumb and forefinger, inhaling deeply, holding it in his lungs then exhaling.

“Just like that,” he said, passing it off to Rosé, who awkwardly took it, copying Denali’s movements up until the exhale when instead he coughed it out of him, the smoke billowing from his mouth in clouds.

“Hey, hey, you’ve never smoked before, take it easy,” Denali coached, “smaller inhale. Do you want to try again?”

Rosé shook his head, passing it back and reaching for his glass of water beside him. “Gimme a second.”

Nodding, Denali took another hit for himself, letting it spread throughout his body and relax him.

“Alright, let me try again,” Rosé said, taking it back, this time taking a smaller pull, one that only made him cough once.

He took one more, as did Denali before Denali put it out on his pink rolling tray. “How do you feel?” He asked, itching to reach out and cling to him.

“I can’t believe I’ve never done this before but I feel good-really good. Relaxed, and to be honest, kind of like I want to bend you over and fuck you.”

“Oh,” Denali squeaked, taken aback by his brashness, though delighted all at the same time.

“Do you always get horny when you get high? Because I’m-“

“Yeah, I can see that,” Denali interrupted, mouth dry as he caught sight of the hard on growing in his pants.

Rosé raked his eyes over Denali, knelt on the bed in his little satin sleep set, his ass and thighs filling out the pink shorts and the slightly cropped top showing a strip of his tanned belly, the sparkling bellybutton jewelry peeking out whenever he shifted.

“Come here, bunny,” he said, beckoning Denali to him.

Denali straddled his thighs, throwing his arms around his neck. “Hi daddy,” he giggled sweetly.

Rosé wasted no time before he was leaning in to kiss him, hands migrating to his back, feeling along the curve of it as they kissed until both of them needed air. Denali leaned back in to kiss him after they caught their breath when Rosé paused, stopping to shove one of Denali’s stuffed animals under the pillow.

“What are you-?”

“I didn’t like the way it was looking at you,” he said, grinning like an idiot.

“Jesus, you’re so dumb,” Denali laughed, hiding his flushed face behind his hands.

“No but seriously,” Rosé whispered lowly, removing Denali’s hands from his face, kissing each one, “I wanted to shield its innocent eyes from the way I’m going to ruin you.”

Surging forward, Denali pressed himself against Rosé’s chest, kissing him messily while Rosé’s hands slipped down the back of his shorts, squeezing the flesh of his ass.

“Be good for daddy and lay down,” he instructed, mumbling against Denali’s lips.

Scooting off him, Denali wiggled his shorts down, tossing them somewhere across the room. Rosé did the same with his sweatpants and took his place hovering over Denali.

“So pretty,” he cooed, “I bet you’ll be even prettier when I’m all done with you.”

[floraences]

F L O R E N C E   T R A S K ; 

hello world ! it’s lucy here, attempting to string together a sentence again with my lovely florence. she’s dyssebia, a personification of impiety; and muse thirty two ! this is messy as hell but below you can find her application information and a brief eDgY bio, and HERE you can find a detailed, more practical factfile. you can also find her pinterest HERE. that’s all, folks ! my dms are always open and i am a slut for plots so :~)

[ ESTER EXPOSITO / POLYTROPOS / DYSSEBIA ] / [ FLORENCE 'FLORA' TRASK ] is a [ TWENTY ONE ] year old [ CLASSICAL CIVILISATION ] major. [ SHE ] is known for being [ CAPTIVATING, EMPATHETIC, ASTUTE  ] and [ VOLATILE, SELF-INDULGENT,  MACHIAVELLIAN ].  when i think of them, i imagine [ THE THORNS BENEATH PETALS, LIPSTICK STAINS ON COLLARS, MARBLE CRACKS FILLED WITH GOLD, CHAMPAGNE IN A TEACUP, BEAUTY LACED WITH FEAR, THE SOFT PURR OF A CAT, ROOMS SWIMMING IN ROSES, BRUISED PEACHES RUNNING WITH JUICE. ]. and even though they’re a proud hatchett u student now, we all have our roots. theirs run back to them being a [ MHP (AER) ] graduate . i wasn’t entirely sure, but we could’ve seen them walking past the always open office the other day. i asked around and it turns out they [ AREN’T ] an AOP student. in their interview, they managed to woo the admissions team by [ COMPOSING A SONATA AND PROCEEDING TO PERFORM IT ]. i guess that’s all there is to know! unless…

— you’re born two minutes after your brother, and you come into the world the way you plan to leave it; silent and unwavering. you don’t cry that day in the hospital. in fact, you don’t cry when your mother and father leave you alone in a silent house, with just the portraits’ soulless eyes to watch over you, and you don’t cry when your violin string snaps as you’re playing bach, cutting a slick gash into your wrist, red splashing against the varnished willow. you just purse your little lips and get on with it. — so you grow up empty instead. your sibling is your only solace, the shining sun to your cold and impatient moon. you sleep in his bed instead of your own until you’re seven, curled up together in the warmth of love like bear cubs under the covers. your parents toss money at you both, pay the french nannies to dress you in elegant little chanel and dior, take you on trips to london, rome, vienna, but nothing they give you can buy love. — and you’ve got a big heart too, aching to love and be loved in return; but all you get are slammed doors in your face and hushed “not now”, “don’t disturb me”, and little faces pressed against the cold glass of the window, watching the black mercedes pull out of the drive yet again. so quickly, you find friends among the shelves of your father’s personal library. the greeks and romans of old become your closest confidants. you drink pink lemonade with plato, and cycle around the garden to virgil’s words, reading quiet passages of homer under the covers at dusk. it’s a nearly obsessive fascination; you sit under the crooked blackthorn tree eating sweet peaches, the nectar dripping down your chin, dreaming of your own icarian fall. — as you grow, your parents encourage force these signs of greatness. they push you into music and languages, art and poetry; you play the piano until your fingers bruise over, recite latin and greek until your tongue is stiff, run circles and circles around the house until your lungs begin to burn. it’s not enough to be average, it’s not enough to be good. you must be great. — school is a welcome relief from the solitude of your own company. you lap up knowledge like it’s sweetened honey, every interesting little fact kept squirreled away somewhere within that brilliant brain of yours. you want to succeed, to do well, and so you do — you’re not cruel enough yet to push people down so you can climb, no matter what your mother says.  — so instead you just... be. you be as you always were; rosy-cheeked and sharp-eyed, observing everything. you stay lovely, but you have your thorns, hidden away under sweet petals. you make enemies, but you make friends too, cloistered among the halls of marble hill.  —  you’re a romantic, capital r. you always have been. not rom-coms and gas station bouquets, rotting chocolates in pink felt boxes from a lover long forgotten; no, no. think more of wild moors, dancing around crackling fires in the dark, and love so strong it breaks your heart. — you used to bow to your parents will, to the expectations of society. play the role of an obedient daughter, a selfless sister, the perfect student. it was easier to grit your teeth and continue doing as you were told. but as you grew, you discovered the sting in your words, the secret pleasure in doing as you liked, in owing nothing to anyone. you’re a hedonist now, a self-indulgent creature of the twenty-first century. you do as you want.   — now, nothing is sacred but yourself. you give no reverence to any god or man. if you could have, you’d have watched rome burn, striking the strings of your violin and the ivories of the grand piano like they’re matches. things like class systems and unwritten hierarchies mean nothing to you, as do the opinions of others. there’s a reason you’re so fascinated with the old gods of aristotle and socrates, and it’s not out of any form of respect. 

[missymurphy1985]

The Groupie (part four)

Warning - smut

This is set in 2006/7, and Cillian has no children. Reader is a fan, has been since day one and is a plus size girl. I myself am a UK size 16, so I hope I don't offend anyone with my story (I'm writing about my own insecurities a little here so be kind please).

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @ntmynouis @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @noctvrnalmoth @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @namelesslosers @misscarolineshelby @screemqueen @cilleveryone @peaky-cillian @misselsbells06

You woke the following morning with a definite hangover. The girls had pestered you all night, asking questions, but you'd ignored them. You weren't the kind of girl to kiss and tell, and honestly you just wanted to forget it all happened.

While you were rubbing your eyes, Ella eased into your room with a water and a coffee and sat on the end of your bed.

"Listen.. don't be mad..." She started, placing the drinks on your bedside table before sitting back down.

"Okay...."

"Promise me?"

"Ugh... Okay I promise I won't be mad."

"You're going for lunch today."

"Why would I be mad about going for lunch?"

"Because of who you're having lunch with." You raised an eyebrow at her, questioningly.

"Ella, if you're setting me up on another blind date I'm not interested..."

"It isn't a blind date I promise! Just be ready for 12:30 yeah? I'll drive you!" She grinned and patted your legs under the duvet. You groaned at the prospect of another disastrous date with some weirdo Ella has patched you up with and sat up, reaching for the coffee.

You both pulled up outside the small restaurant in Camden, feeling a bit fresher now the caffeine had hit you. Glaring at Ella as you stepped out of the car she grinned and waved as she pulled away. Walking in, you gave the waiter your name and he led you to a small table in the middle of the room. A young woman was sat at the table. She looked strangely familiar, but you couldn't place it. She looked up at you and smiled warmly, greeting you.

"Y/n? It's so nice to finally meet you!" That was definitely a Cork accent.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude - "

"I'm Orla. Orla Murphy." The penny dropped quickly when you realised why she looked familiar. She was the spit of her older brother. You looked to the floor, before quickly looking around.

"He isn't here, and he doesn't know I'm here. Please y/n, sit down?" She pointed to the chair next to you and against your better judgement you took it. The waiter came and offered menus, as you ordered a large glass of Rosé. Orla quickly making it a bottle and two glasses, and insisting she was paying.

"Why, Orla?" You asked after the waiter had left.

"Why are you here? Because I wanted to meet the woman who's completely bowled my brother over and refuses to let him explain. I knew that if he was here, you'd have left immediately. Just hear me out, okay?"

"Alright. I'm listening."

"My brother can be a complete douchebag, trust me. But he's also one of the most loyal, kind, generous, funny, charismatic people I've ever known. He doesn't, and has never, intentionally hurt anyone in his life. Since that night with you, he's been miserable as sin y/n. He's tried looking for you all year, he's been like a lost puppy and frankly I'm getting real sick of him moping around like a lost sheep!"

"Do you know what he did?"

"I know what Neve said he did. But I can absolutely guarantee he didn't. Neve was crazy. She couldn't accept that he wouldn't sleep with her. She'd grope him when people weren't looking - I'm not talking a bum slap, although she did that plenty of times too, I'm talking full on crotch grabs. She was so drunk one night, she straddled his hips in front of everyone at an aftershow party and gave him a lapdance - it was both embarrassing and hilarious in equal measure! He pretended to fall asleep after two minutes of her grinding against him just to get her to stop!" She chuckled at the memory and you couldn't help but smile too, even though you were horrified. If the tables were turned and Cillian had behaved that way towards her he'd have been arrested.

"Seeing you with him that night just topped the bill for her. She lied to you about the wager, hoping he'd be so heartbroken that you'd left him, he'd fall straight into her arms."

"And did he?"

"No. He told her she was a cheap, conniving, evil witch who was only after him for a career boost. He told her never to contact him again or he'd go to the press about the sexual harassment she'd subjected him to throughout the run."

"I can't believe she put him through all that..."

"She was a psycho y/n. Complete basket case. He couldn't believe his luck when he saw you last night, but when you walked away again.. he ended up at mine last night. I had to meet you in person, I thought maybe you'd believe it this time - he loves you y/n, I've never seen him like this about anyone before."

"He what?"

"He hasn't said it but my god it's obvious! He's always talking about you! Funny things you said that night, the letters you used to write him, the photos you'd send of your holidays... He kept them all you know." You smiled, remembering how you used to write fan letters to him, and he'd always reply. In the end you became almost like pen pals - he never ignored a letter.

You and Orla talked more over lunch. When it came time to pay the bill, you couldn't help but laugh when she confessed to using Cillian's credit card.

"Here's his number y/n. Call him?" She wrote his number down on a piece of paper, and hers next to it, and you nodded. She gave you a warm hug, and left you alone to think.

[outofsstyles]

i wish u would write a fic where reader is also a famous singer whos label sets up a collab with the two of them and they meet and write a love song and its a HIT and they PERFORM IT and realize they be SMITTEN with each other and the internet totally knew before they did and this is weirdly specific but it popped in my mind and i love your writing !!! okay bye 😎

Okay i’m actually embarrassed of how long it took me to write this but writer’s block hit me like a bunch of bricks this past month, still i’m so sorry!! But anyway here’s around 2.6k of famous!reader for you anon!! Hope you enjoy it!!

Also this is not really proofread cause i wrote it all in one sitting after a boost of inspiration so uh chile anyway so...

One could think that you’d have grown past the nervous set of butterflies that come by before stepping out on stage. They wouldn’t be entirely wrong, you like to think. Sure, there’s still an anxious feeling that bubbles up in the pit of your stomach like the drops of air in a sealed bottle of rosé (much like the one sitting inside a bucket propped on the center table of your dressing room). It’s normal, you tell yourself, part of the process, even. The clammy palms of your hand and the rapid thumping of your heart will soon be replaced by the thrill of stepping in front of a crowd of people, eyes wide, and voices loud. All waiting for you.

When Harry invited you to join him tonight, just for a song, there wasn’t a single ounce in your mind that thought of declining it. After all, you had spent months traveling around with him as his opening act of the American leg on his first tour. It’s not even the first time you’d share the stage with him, having joined him on a live cover of Eternal Flame at the very last date of the tour. His fans are also familiar with you, most of them seem to like you, even (and you don’t bother searching for the ones who don’t, much preferring to preserve your peace of mind). So there’s really not a reason for you to feel as if you’re about to throw up, is there?

Except this time is much different than all the previous ones you had to do this. No one out there is expecting you to step on stage. Much less for a song you’d thought you’d never sing it live.

It started as a forgotten draft you found in one of your old journals, and sometime between Chicago and Vancouver, after long nights and shared bottles of wine together, it turned into a duet. There wasn’t any intention of recording it initially, being born in hushed drunken confession at wee hours in the morning, and shared stories of heartbreak and yearning, you figured it would just stay between the two of you. It was a vulnerable song, after all, one in which both of you poured your heartaches in. 

But Harry loved the song. In fact, barely a month after the tour was wrapped up and everyone had tucked themselves back home to a well-deserved break, he invited you for dinner at his and, after one or two margaritas, you were standing on his home studio singing the words you’d written with him on quiet hotel rooms. And it didn’t take much convincing from his part for you to release it months later as part of your first studio album. Harry’s a charming man and he always finds a way to get what he wants. Not to mention the glimmer in his eyes and the set of dimples on his cheeks appearing as he heard the final cut were enough for you to convince you (not that you’d ever say this out loud).

So it’s not hard to understand why you agreed in a heartbeat to sing it with him on the opening night of his tour. 

Your leg is bouncing in a nervous tick, and you have to stop yourself from chewing on your bottom lip as to avoid another scolding from Amie who’s just applied a thin layer of lipstick over it. There’s a bundle of voices sweeping around the room, all much familiar to you, as they’re all part of your team. But you can’t help but zone out, pushing the noise to the back of your brain and letting it become faint background noise as you take in a deep breath to ease yourself down.

The concert has started around an hour ago, meaning you have just a few minutes before you have to head to the side of the stage, waiting for Harry to announce your name. He made sure to stop by your dressing room after soundcheck was done, greeting everyone from your team (they’ve all grown fond of him after the last tour, but then again, it’s hard not to) before making his way to you, a grin taking over his face as he approached, arms opening and not wasting a second before pulling you into an embrace. You smile to yourself, recalling his words from earlier.

“How are we feeling?” He pulled away, holding on to your shoulders and you can’t help but focus on the way his thumbs caressed you over the thin fabric of your shirt.

“Uhm like I could pass out at any second, but other than that I’m fine.” You let out a dry laugh as an attempt to mask the truth of your sentence behind humor.

“Nothing to be nervous about, love.” His hands squeezed you gently before dropping down and you chewed on your bottom lip at the warmth left from his touch. “S’just you and me and the guitar.” 

“And thirty thousand people.”

“You’ve played for bigger crowds.”

“I know, it’s just…” You sighed, gazing down at the champagne flute in your hands before shrugging. “Never sang something this personal, I guess.”

“Hey, it’s alright.” He moved a strand of your hair from your face, taking a small step forward as his voice droped down slightly so you’re the only one hearing his words.  “Know you’ll be brilliant, there’s nothing to worry about.”

“What if I cry?”

“Nothing wrong in crying, love.” He said in a beat, shaking his head softly. “I’ve shed a fair amount of tears on stage as well, just shows how much it means to you.”

Relaxing your shoulders you didn’t even realize were so tense, you exhaled. “You’re right.”

“I am.” He humored, dimples poking at his cheeks as he bumped his shoulder against yours. His expression softened, “You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, okay?” He said truthfully, eyes flickering between yours to show you he meant it. “I don’t want you to do something you’re not comfortable with just for my sake.”

“Thanks, H.” You smiles. “But I’m fine, really, just nervous.”

His lips parted to answer you, but before he can do so someone shouted from the doorway, “H, you gotta go to hair and makeup.” 

“I’ll be right there.” He called over his shoulder, then turned his attention back to you. “I’ll see you on stage?”

“I’ll be there.”

“Hey,” he says as he started walking backward. “Just you and me alright?”

“Right.” You giggled watching him throw you a wink before turning around and stepping out of the room.

Downing the last bit of champagne on your glass, you rest it on the counter next to you before stepping up from your seat completely. A few pairs of eyes settle on you from the sudden movement, but they quickly turn back to their previous conversations as you don’t meet their gaze, only making your way o the full body mirror that makes the door leading to the bathroom. 

Your glittery eyelids call your attention first as you examine yourself, making you blink a few times just to see them shimmer. They match the two-piece that hugs your body in a lavender tone, the same one of the boost you slipped in just a couple minutes ago. You move your hips around softly, watching the way the skirt dances around your thighs and smoothing your hands on it to feel the soft fabric under your fingertips. You have time to adjust the top one last time before someone from production calls your name at the doorway, indicating it’s time to head out.

The whole way goes in a bit of a blur, you adjust your earpiece and try to smile at words of encouragement that are thrown your way as you walk towards the side of the stage where you’re supposed to make your entrance. Your heart thumps in your chest, almost loud enough to swallow the screams of the crowd that gets louder every step you take. Harry comes into view, along with the whole arena as you pass through a double door. His back is turned to you when you come to a stop but you can make out the guitar in his hands, his voice blending with the echo of thousands of others, screaming back at him the words he wrote. It’s Fine Line, one of your favorites from his sophomore album, and you can’t help but mouth along to it as the bridge comes up.

It helps to calm you a bit, the melody along with his voice setting the atmosphere of the whole place to a joyous state. It was clear at the glossy eyes you can catch in the crowd looking back at him, cheering as the song comes to an end, and Harry bows in gratitude and you watch as he steps back in front of the mic stand but doesn’t say anything. For a moment he just stays like that, you can’t catch his face from this angle, but you gaze up at the big screen and, just like you predicted, you can see the admiration on his expression as he takes in the crowd in front of him. You wish you could know his thoughts, but the smile that takes over his lips gives you everything you need to know, and you can’t help but let one tug on your face as well.

Before you know it, he leans into the microphone again, the screams quieting down as he starts speaking again. “I don’t think I’ll ever find enough words to thank you for your support, and sharing such special moments like this with me,” he begins, one hand moving to his chest as he pauses when the crowd roars again. “I love you all very much, and I thought maybe I could bring someone here that also holds a special place in my heart.”

You can feel every cell in your body freeze once you realize he’s talking about you, and it’s only when he turns around, eyes finding yours as he motions for you to walk in that you start moving. Keeping your gaze trained on his, you approach him, the hollering sound becoming almost faint in your ears as you focus solely on Harry. He pushes his guitar to the side so he can give you a quick hug before turning back to his mic.

“So, this lovely lady and I happen to have a song together.”

Your eyes scan the crowd for a moment, catching the awe in people’s faces before finding him again. Bringing your own mic to your lips you speak up, “We do, actually.”

“And we never sang it live before, is that right?”

“You’d be correct, yes.” 

“How do we feel about singing it tonight for the first time?” He asks more to the audience than to you, wanting to get a reaction, and as if on cue their screams take over the space at the mention of the song.

“I think they like the idea.” You smile, letting your eyes wander around the arena. Thanks to the bright spotlight set on you, you can’t make out most of their faces, but each one of them still makes themselves present, being with their flashlights turned on or their voices joining in with the others. A familiar electric spark shoots down your spine, the buzz making you forget all the previous nerves that were taking over your mind.

The sound of the strokes on the guitar strings bring your attention back to Harry, and when you look back at him, he’s already watching you, a smirk threatening to poke at his lips as he nods at you. It’s a silent gesture of reassurance, and you’re thankful for it, smiling back at him.

Once the intro is over he steps towards the stand again, his lips brushing the mic but his eyes still glued on you. It’s hard not to feel the chills rise on your skin at the sound of his voice. You’re close enough that if you focus, you can hear him under the reverberance of the loudspeakers. The realization makes your hand come up almost instinctively, removing one earplug so you can listen to him better. He smiles midword at you once he realizes what you’ve done, his eyes closing for a moment as he feels every word that comes out of his mouth.

Joining him for the chorus, you realize how astute he was when suggesting doing an acoustic version. The sound of your voices together slowed down by just the guitar background sounds even more intimate. It’s gentler. Softer. And you can’t help the step that you take towards him, feeling an urge to get closer. 

You don’t dare to break eye contact going into your solo, he moves back from his mic just a bit, giving you your moment and nodding along to the words. Unlike you had thought before, you don’t feel a knot forming on your throat or burning in your chest as you proclaim words of an old broken heart. Harry’s face is enough to keep you at ease, his irises seeming so green under the stage light that you can’t help the stuttering of your heart. 

He melts his voice on yours again, bringing you back to all the sleepless nights you spent together, singing the same words to one another. 

You’ve heard people say about being with someone that makes you feel like you’re the only people in a room, and it’s always made you roll your eyes at the cliche aspect of it. But standing here with Harry, on stage, eyes set on each other as you sing the words straight from your heart, you start to understand where those people were coming from. There are thousands of other eyes set on you, but his are the only ones calling your attention. Everything else seeming unimportant as you find yourself stuck in a trance with him.

The last chorus rolls around and you only register him moving once he’s right in front of you. His guitar is the only barrier between your bodies as he leans into your microphone, and you move it down so it stands under both your lips. He’s close enough that you can feel the warmth of his breath on your cupid bow. You could touch him with the smallest of movements, and you want nothing more than to rest your forehead on his and meet his mouth with yours. But you hold back, closing your eyes as you’re afraid of what the effect of his own can do to you, letting the last words come out in a breath.

The roaring crowd reminds you of the people watching you, and almost as if you’re broken out of a spell, you take a small step back, turning to the audience to give them a wave. You feel Harry’s arm wrapping around your shoulder and pulling you against him. His lips press a single kiss on your hair as you thank everyone with a smile, still taken back by what just happened. 

Turning to Harry, you give him one last hug, this time lingering for a beat too long, enjoying the feeling of his arms pressing you closer to him. He pulls away first, announcing your name again, and you spare him another look before waving your way out, with shaky legs and a speeding heart.

[missjanjie]

Taste of a Poison Paradise | Chapter 8

Title: Taste of a Poison Paradise Summary: Life at Jackie Cox’s strip club, Poison Paradise, isn’t just lapdances and g-strings. There’s enough drama, lust, and heartache to rival any soap opera. None of the girls know what to expect on any given shift, especially while navigating their torrid, complicated relationships. Word Count: ~3k (this chapter) / ~24.2k (total) Relationship(s): Lemyanka (Lemon/Priyanka), Crygi (Crystal Methyd/Gigi Goode), Sportsdoll (Jan Sport/Nicky Doll), Jaidie (Jaida Essence Hall/Jackie Cox), BVK (Brooke Lynn Hytes/Vanessa Vanjie Mateo/Kameron Michaels), Rosnali (Rosé/Denali Foxx) Rating: E

Read on AO3 | Ko-Fi

Chapter Summary: Things seem to be going well for Lemon until they go really bad really fast. Things are actually going well for Jackie and Jaida.

-

For the next couple of weeks, it seemed like Lemon was on the mend. She had finished her finals, gotten through her senior year, and now it was time to celebrate. Hers and Gigi’s graduations were only a couple of days apart, so the group decided to combine their graduation party that weekend.

It was one of the rare times the club was closed on a Saturday, but Jackie wanted to make sure everyone could celebrate together and turned the main room into their party space. “Cheers,” she said, raising her glass, “to Lemon and Gigi, college graduates!”

The group clinked their glasses together and drank, everyone resuming their casual conversation, relaxed, and enjoying one another’s company. With the exception, of course, of Lemon and Priyanka, who were still trying to avoid each other like the plague.

“Look, I love those two as much as the rest of y’all, but I’ve stopped feeling sorry for them — at this point, it’s just annoying,” Kameron remarked as she watched the way they behaved with a grimace. “Not that it’s any of my business, but it kind of is considering how often I have to witness them, but how long were they hooking up for anyway?”

Vanessa furrowed her brows as she counted on her fingers. “Dunno, like four months?”

“Shit, that’s like a lesbian year,” she murmured, sipping her drink. “This isn’t gonna fix itself is it?”

“Not as long as Pri’s got that rock on her finger.”

“It could be worse,” Brooke Lynn chimed in, her lips pursed around the straw in her glass, “at least she doesn’t wear it to work, can you imagine the fit Lemon would throw if she had to stare down a diamond every day?”

The three of them looked at Lemon, who, at least for the moment, appeared to be enjoying herself, then at Priyanka, who was talking to Crystal and looking stressed.

“So, dress shopping is happening on Wednesday?” Crystal asked. “Does she know?”

“Of course she doesn’t know,” Priyanka scoffed and shook her head, “I have no idea how to keep her from knowing, no one can keep a secret in their family.”

Crystal winced but nodded. “Well, good luck,” she offered before Gigi made their way to her side and her attention immediately became divided.

“Thanks,” Priyanka mumbled, her gaze drifting to Lemon, who was talking animatedly to Jan and Rosé, “I’ll need it.”

------

By the time Wednesday rolled around, Priyanka’s nerves hadn’t quelled in the slightest. Lucky for her, at least, those with her — her mother, sister, and future mother-in-law wrote it off as pre-wedding jitters. Scarlett knew better, but there was no need to blow up her best friend’s spot like that.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to a more traditional store?” The mother-in-law asked, “I know Mark doesn’t want your culture to be ignored.”

“It will be two separate ceremonies,” Priyanka’s mom cut in before she could speak for herself, “she will be wearing her grandmother’s sari for that.”

Priyanka had to fight off the pained expression that tried to twist its way onto her face. It was only when she had broken the news to her family that she remembered what a big event weddings were in her family. She wasn’t about to get off lightly with this. Instead, she let the assistant at the shop lead her to a rack of dresses and suggested a few. She agreed to them without giving them a proper look, figuring she would let a majority rule.

Once she was in the first dress, she returned to the main room and stepped up on the platform in front of the mirrors. Right away, the women began discussing and debating the pros and cons of the dress — where it fit right, where it’d need to be taken in. But she couldn’t bring herself to focus on anything, instead zoning out to the song playing through the store’s speakers.

I'm living for the only thing I know I'm running and not quite sure where to go And I don't know what I'm diving into Just hanging by a moment here with you

Normally, Priyanka would roll her eyes at this sort of song, at the cheesy love in the lyrics. But with her only alternative being actively participating in shopping for a wedding dress, she listened to the music and let it resonate.

Desperate for changing Starving for truth I'm closer to where I started I'm chasing after you

She winced but blamed it on accidentally being stuck with a pin. They didn’t have to play a song that hit so close to home, she thought. It made it that much harder to ignore the feelings that bubbled up inside her. It was only then that she realized someone was talking to her. “Huh?”

“I asked if you liked the dress,” Scarlett replied.

“Oh,” she cleared her throat. “Yeah, it’s fine.” She then realized she should have been more convincing because she found herself ushered back into the dressing room to try on dress number two, which she would then force enthusiasm for so the day would end as soon as possible.

“Are you okay?” her mother asked with sincere concern.

Priyanka nodded as she stepped off the platform. “Just a little lightheaded, I didn’t have breakfast.”

“Well, let’s get this dress taken care of, then we’ll go get something to eat.”

She nodded again as she went back to change into her regular clothes. Maybe she did just need to eat, she thought. Maybe some food or a nap would bring her back into reality. The reality where she was preparing to get married. The reality that Lemon could no longer be the main character in, no matter what some stupid song was trying to tell her. Or even worse, no matter how much she wanted her to be.

------

“You don’t normally ask me to make house calls,” Jaida remarked as Jackie let her into the apartment, “is everything okay?”

Jackie exhaled deeply. No matter how many times she had rehearsed what she was going to say, she still ended up tongue-tied the second she laid eyes on her. But she was determined to work her way through this and not let nerves get the best of her. “I watched the video you did with Denali. I… I watched it more times than I’d like to admit,” she confessed. “And I can’t get the image of you fucking her out of my mind. But more specifically… I can’t stop picturing myself in her place.”

Jaida had to put all of her mental energy into fighting off a smug grin. She wanted to choose her words carefully, not wanting to overwhelm an already anxious Jackie. “Since we’re being honest here, that’s kinda what I was aiming for,” at Jackie’s confused reaction, she continued, “you could have been less obvious with your username and how you talk online. Maybe it’s ‘cause I know you so well, but I could read all of your messages in your voice.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

She shrugged. “I didn’t want you to feel pressured to confront how you felt, considering your coming out was still fresh for you. I just wanted you to know that the option was there whenever you were ready.”

There was a silent beat before Jackie swallowed thickly and told her, “I’m ready.”

“Then tell me what you want, baby.”

“I want you to fuck me.” The words felt foreign for Jackie to say, the phrase has never left her lips with any sort of sincerity before. But at the same time, she had never been more certain in her life about what she wanted and how badly she wanted it.

Jaida moved to Jackie, wrapping her arms around her waist and kissing her deeply. “I’m gonna take good care of you, okay?” she promised as they made their way to the bedroom.

And Jackie trusted her, she trusted her more than she would have anyone else in this position. She let Jaida take her to bed, let her take her time undressing her and pressing kisses to every newly exposed inch of skin. She eagerly helped her clothes off as well, letting her hands roam her body in ways she had only fantasized about.

“I don’t want you to be afraid of being loud,” Jaida told her. “I wanna hear you, wanna know how good I’m making you feel.” As she spoke, her fingers glided down Jackie’s body, stopping between her thighs before starting to rub her clit in small, firm circles.

Jackie’s head tilted back into the pillows, soft moans spilling from her lips. Her body yielded to Jaida’s touch and her moans grew louder as the other woman eased one finger into her, thrusting and curling it before adding another and picking up a steady rhythm.

“Good girl,” she praised, trailing kisses down her body. She then slowly eased her fingers out and replaced them with her tongue, licking and thrusting at a similar pace while her fingers moved to rub her clit in tandem.

It wasn’t long before the sensation became overwhelming and Jackie’s hips started to jerk erratically. She barely managed to squeak out a warning before she came harder than she ever had before, her body trembling when she was spent. “Oh my god…”

Jaida came back up and laid beside her. “Are you okay?” she asked softly, pushing the hair out of her face.

“I’m good,” Jackie assured. “I just… I haven’t… it, um…”

“Jackie…” she furrowed her brows and sat up a bit, “have you ever been with a woman before?”

Jackie’s face turned a deep shade of red. “I have, kind of. It’s been hard to work through so many years of repression and internalized homophobia, you know? I’ve made out with girls, fooled around a bit. But I guess no, I’ve never properly had sex with another woman before. I wouldn’t have wanted to put that pressure on you anyway. Besides, I couldn’t have asked for a better first time.”

Jaida exhaled deeply, suddenly becoming aware of the weight that’d built upon her chest. “Then that’s all I needed to hear.”

------

“There’s a birthday party out there tonight,” Gigi remarked offhandedly as they and Lemon got ready in the quick-change room. “I know how much you love those,” they added with an overly exaggerated eye roll.

Lemon groaned. Birthdays and bachelor parties were tied for the worst groups of men to deal with as clients, the only exceptions being the ones that take it as an opportunity to go all out and tip well. “And you’re on the stage next?” she let out another disgruntled whine when they nodded, finishing off her cocktail. “Gonna get a refill, gonna need it for doing rounds.” Naturally, when she went to the bar, she went right to Crystal. The downside was Crystal knew to cut her off after three drinks and she had to flirt with men to keep the drinks coming.

“You’re getting your third one this early?” Crystal questioned as she mixed it for her. “Something on your mind?”

“Nope. Just got a birthday party that’s probably all gonna want lap dances,” she replied, taking a swig as soon as she got the drink in her hand. Sure, it didn’t help that she had seen Scarlett’s instagram post of Priyanka in her wedding dress earlier, but she wasn’t about to hash that out, especially not with the bride-to-be all of four feet away.

And Crystal wasn’t entirely convinced, but she knew there was no use in pushing further. “Well, good luck,” she offered.

Lemon set her empty glass on the counter before making her way through the crowd. It took a little while before she ended up in the vicinity of the group of men, and not long after that, they flagged her down. At first, it was business as usual, though she couldn’t shake the feeling that one of the men seemed familiar.

“Hey Mark,” the man celebrating his birthday remarked, “maybe we should come back here for your bachelor party. I bet Priyanka won’t mind!” he laughed.

That made Lemon freeze in her tracks as it all clicked. She saw red and her blood boiled with a wave of anger and loathing she had never felt before. Something inside of her took over, she hadn’t even realized she had thrown a drink in his face and screamed at him until Kameron was pulling her away and all eyes in the club were on her, including Priyanka’s, who had dropped everything to run over the second she heard Lemon scream.

“Who the hell are you?” Mark asked incredulously.

“I’m who your fianceé thinks about while you’re fucking her,” Lemon snarled while locked in Kameron’s grasp.

It was then that both Mark and Lemon realized Priyanka was right there. “What the fuck is she talking about, Pri?”

Priyanka felt her heart drop into the pit of her stomach as she prayed for the floor to open up beneath her so the ground would swallow her whole. She knew she had been playing a dangerous game, but she could have never predicted that it would blow up in her face this badly. “I-”

“She’s never gonna love you,” Lemon continued with disdain in her voice. But then her tone softened to a calm, albeit distant one. “But don’t worry,” she looked towards Priyanka, their eyes meeting, “she’s never gonna love me either.”

Other than the music playing in the background, the room was silent as Lemon let Kameron take her upstairs to the common room. “How are you feeling?” she asked gently as she sat at the other end of the couch, resting her hand on the smaller girl’s leg. “You really caused a scene back there.”

“Whatever,” she mumbled. “He was gonna find out eventually. You can’t live a lie forever,” she hiccuped as she sprawled her barely-dressed body out. “I need another drink.”

“The only thing you’re drinking is water,” she said sternly, getting up and grabbing a water bottle from the fridge and bringing it back, propping Lemon up enough so she could drink. “I’m gonna call Rosé and have her take you home, I don’t think you should stick around tonight,” she told her as she fished her phone from her pocket.

Lemon nodded and pushed herself to sit up properly. She hung her head down, intentionally hiding her face from Kameron as she sniffled quietly. “Pri’s gonna hate me now, isn’t she?”

Kameron winced, unsure of how honest she should be with someone both drunk and emotionally unstable. “I think once the dust settles, you two are going to have to have a long talk. It’s not gonna be easy, but it’s gonna be the only way you two have a shot at healing.”

“I ruined her marriage.”

She shook her head. “She ruined her marriage the moment she said yes to someone she didn’t want to be with. She probably would’ve gotten cold feet and left him at the altar,” she mused, both out of her honest belief and the hope that she could get Lemon to crack a smile. And once she did, she felt comfortable getting back up and calling Rosé, warning her of exactly what happened.

“I got here as fast as I could,” Rosé announced once she made it upstairs. “Three different guys tried to buy lap dances off me on the way, sorry,” she added before rushing to her cousin’s side. “You’ve done it now, huh, Lem?” she shook her head as she helped her to her feet.

Vanessa emerged from the locker room with the rest of Lemon’s belongings. “Here, you might wanna get her changed before you take her back outta here.”

Kameron furrowed her brows. “You know her locker combination?”

“Um… yes?” she tucked a bobby pin into her back pocket. “This ain’t about me,” she was quick to change the subject and helped Lemon get changed.

Rosé effectively ignored the entire exchange, saying her goodbyes to the other women before driving Lemon back home and getting her changed again, this time into pajamas. “Mik isn’t home, you can sleep in her bed,” she offered.

Lemon chewed her lip for a moment, then shook her head. “Can I stay with you? I just… I don’t wanna be by myself.”

“Of course, baby,” she assured and tucked her into bed. “Do you need anything? Water? Something to eat?”

“Need to wake up in a world where none of this happened.”

Rosé sighed sadly. “Fresh out, unfortunately.” She changed as well before joining her in bed. “Just wake me if you need anything, okay?” When she got a nod of confirmation, she turned the lights off and called it a night.

But that wasn’t the case for Lemon. No, she wouldn’t be so lucky. Even though she had been drunk, the incident replayed in her mind in great detail no matter how many times she tried to shut it off. That, coupled with struggling to sort through the mix of emotions still swirling through her, kept her awake for another hour or so before exhaustion took over and she passed out.

And back at the club, everyone else was left to pick up the pieces of the explosive incident. But as much as the clientele was willing to move past what they’d witnessed, none of the employees could get themselves to carry on. So, with Jackie’s blessing, they called it an early night and nearly everyone went back home.

Priyanka hung back, seeking solace in Jackie’s office, knowing her boss might be the only one that could understand the gravity of the fallout. “What the fuck am I supposed to do now, Jackie? This is effectively outing me to everyone. And I look bad too, they’re gonna find out I’m gay and a cheater in one go. What should I do?”

Jackie sighed, her heart truly breaking for her. “I wish there was an easy answer for this. I think, for now, you just need to get through the night.”

And Priyanka would, though she was afraid to fall asleep, overwhelmed with the need to postpone tomorrow as long as she could, because she had run out of ways to hide or lie her way out of it.

[lasting-inkpressions]

Burning Up [1/4]

Summary: When she applied to be the secretary for managing partner Rosé McCorkell, Denali hadn't expected to end up working for the biggest pain in her ass, nor did she expect anything beyond a professional relationship.

Word Count: 4,365

Note: Originally titled "Work Wives".

Prefer reading it on AO3?

Denali stood in front of the familiar panelled wooden door, a brown leather folio clutched to her chest and a fresh cup of coffee in her right hand. She was dressed in a cream sleeveless blouse and a black pencil skirt finished off with nude heels. She stared hard at the frosted glass with a name embossed in gold lettering across it.

Rosé McCorkell, one of the three managing partners in S. Child, a top law firm in New York City. She was also a major pain in Denali’s ass for all of the six months that she had been here as her secretary.

Steeling herself for her usual morning meeting with her, Denali took a deep breath, knocked on the door and waited. Seconds later, she heard the usual clicking of stiletto heels on hardwood floor before the door opened to reveal the woman that was her boss.

As much as she was a pain in the ass, Rosé McCorkell was undoubtedly a stunning woman. Standing tall in her black heels, she wore her auburn hair in perfect curls, dressed in a form fitting navy power suit with the blouse unbuttoned just low enough that Denali could see the deep curve of her cleavage. Catching herself before she stared for too long, she snapped her gaze back up to Rosé’s face and plastered on a smile, hoping that the other woman hadn’t noticed her staring.

“Good morning, Miss McCorkell, I’m here to go over your schedule for the day.”

Rosé stared back at Denali for a moment, causing the younger woman to squirm a little under her gaze, before deep red lips stretched into her trademark smirk.

The same smirk that drove Denali absolutely crazy for reasons she didn’t want to think too deeply into.

“Of course you are, come in.”

———

7 months ago.

Denali sat outside the interview room, waiting for her turn to go in. She was surrounded by other young candidates, each of them looking well groomed, neat and manicured. Most of them were in blazers, suits, the whole shebang and here Denali was dressed in a simple white blouse and black dress pants, her blonde hair pulled into a high ponytail with black pumps on her feet.

She hadn’t really thought too much about it when she had come across the ad and applied for the position. She just needed a job after graduating from college, but now she wasn’t too sure on whether she had made a mistake applying to be the secretary of a managing partner at S. Child. Denali had thought it would be an easy job. After all, a secretary just needed to be organised and have a good head on their shoulders, right? She hadn’t thought it would be a challenge, but looking around her now, with so many tense faces and how the place screamed money, she felt like she was out of her depth.

Maybe it wasn’t too late to duck out…

“Miss Denali Foxx.”

Denali cursed under her breath for not noticing that the previous interviewee had already left the room. She stood and walked to the door, feeling the eyes of the other candidates eyeing her outfit in disdain. Bracing herself, she knocked on the door and waited for a second before entering, coming face to face with three women seated behind a lacquered wooden conference table. Denali took note of each one as she sat in the lone chair before them.

From the website she had briefly scrolled through, she could recognise the three managing partners - Jan Sport was on the left, followed by Lagoona Bloo in the middle and Rosé McCorkell, the managing partner that she was applying to be the secretary of, on the right. From what she had gathered, all three of them were charismatic, intelligent and ruthless in their own rights when in the courtroom.

Lagoona opened a manila folder, cleared her throat and smiled warmly at the blonde in front of her. “Good afternoon Miss Foxx, thank you for taking the time to come down for this interview.” Denali smiled back at her, feeling a little more at ease at how friendly Lagoona seemed.

“Good afternoon, and thank you for having me.”

Lagoona nodded and introduced the three of them, then began the interview by asking her questions, with Jan interjecting a few herself. Denali had managed to answer most of them confidently, only ever stumbling once. All the while Rosé, the one who would decide whether she would be hired or not, had remained silent, simply choosing to flip through the thin file that held Denali’s details, barely even sparing her a glance.

After about ten minutes of back and forth, Lagoona asked her final question, then turned to look at Rosé.

“I think that’s about it from us. Do you have any questions for her, Rosé?”

Denali gulped, trying not to let her nerves get the best of her as the other woman finally looked up at her, folding her hands and resting her chin on them. After a few excruciating seconds, Rosé leaned back in her seat, eyes still trained on the blonde woman before finally speaking.

“Yes, why should I hire you out of everyone out there? From what I’ve read in your file, you seem to be the most inexperienced out of all the candidates. Were you hoping to somehow find a sugar daddy here? I mean you clearly have the looks for it.”

There was pin drop silence at her question. Lagoona had her face buried in her hands and Jan was struggling between wanting to laugh and wanting to strangle Rosé. Denali however sat stone still as Rosé stared down at her, her expression bored as she waited for the blonde to reply.

Denali’s mind was blank for a second before rage filled her veins.

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

Resisting the urge to slap the woman in front of her, Denali reigned it in and instead plastered on the sweetest smile she could muster.

“Well as inexperienced as I am, I can guarantee that if you hire me, you wouldn’t be hiring a cookie cutter suck up that wouldn’t be able to look past designer labels or waste their time trying to be someone they’re not. I can also guarantee that you wouldn’t be hiring a pushover who would go crying to their mother when the job gets tough, and knows that their worth is much more than just a few flimsy pieces of paper that won’t tell you the things that really matter.”

Denali stood, smoothing the wrinkles in her skirt before looking Rosé in the eye.

“And the statement about me wanting a sugar daddy? I’d rather a sugar mommy than a sugar daddy, though from what I see, there aren’t any worth my time here anyways.”

Figuring that the interview was a lost cause, Denali nodded her thanks to a stunned Lagoona and laughing Jan, completely ignoring Rosé, and turned on her heel to leave when she was stopped by two words.

“You’re hired.”

———

Present day.

Grinding her teeth as she glared at the desk in front of her, Denali had to tell herself to calm down as the source of her irritation smirked in her direction. If there was one thing that Denali could not stand, it was Rosé’s way of constantly pushing her buttons. Oh, there was no denying that the woman was good at her job, but the way she seemed to ooze confidence and acted as if she owned the damn place? God, that just made Denali’s blood boil.

“Is something the matter, Nali?”

Denali clenched her fist at the sound of Rosé's nick name for her. It was as if the older woman knew that it riled her up whenever she called her that. Looking up at Rosé, Denali bit back an insult and instead forced herself to smile at her. “No, Miss McCorkell, nothing’s the matter at all. Everything is perfectly fine.”

Staring down at the defiant younger woman for a moment from across her desk, Rosé winked at her. “If you say so, baby.”

Denali gripped the pen in her hand tightly. She breathed through her nose, mentally counting down the seconds till their meeting was over and done with as she wrote down every point that Rosé had said. Quickly going over her notes one last time, she looked back up at Rosé. “Is there anything else, Miss McCorkell?”

“Rosé.”

Denali blinked.

“What?”

“My name. I’ve told you to call me that from the beginning.” Denali rolled her eyes internally as she shuffled the loose sheets of paper into a neater pile. “And as I’ve said before, I’m much more comfortable calling you Miss McCorkell.” She heard Rosé’s low chuckle and the sound of fabric shifting. Denali looked up and immediately dropped her pen.

Rosé was suddenly much closer to her than before, leaning against the solid oak desk between them, an almost predatory look in her eye as she watched the younger girl seated in front of her.

“I wonder why.”

———

“So have you and Miss McCorkell fucked yet?”

Denali glared at Kandy as she walked back to her desk. She threw her pen at the girl and missed as it clattered to the floor, leaving the other girl cackling. “No bitch, and that’s never going to happen. What the fuck even makes you think that?” Kandy sat on the edge of Denali’s desk, a shit eating grin on her face. “Besides the fact that every time you leave her office, your face is always so flustered-“

“Because she always pisses me off-“

“-it’s also the way she stares at your ass, like she can’t wait to get her hands on it.” Denali rolled her eyes and retrieved her pen from the floor. “No, she doesn’t. I’ve never seen her look at my ass before.” And Denali was pretty sure that she would have noticed that, seeing as she’d been Rosé’s secretary for a while now. Plopping herself in her office chair, she opened her folio and started to go through her notes, pulling out a stack of colourful post-it’s from her drawer to help with her organisation. Not to be ignored, Kandy carried on as if the other girl wasn’t trying to ignore her.

“Girl, you don’t exactly have eyes on the back of your head, do you? Trust me, she wants to tap that.”

Denali resisted the urge to strangle the Latina sitting on her desk. Sure, there was always some tension in the room when they were together, but that was more from the fact that Rosé loved riling her up. It had been that way since day one, and sometimes Denali questioned her decision to have accepted the job offer, but the money and benefits were too good to pass up for a fresh grad. She shook her head as she replied dismissively.

“Even if she does, I’m not interested.”

Kandy looked at her in disbelief, one brow cocked. “Are you sure? She’s got a great pair of tits.” Well, she couldn’t argue with that. Denali had noticed Rosé’s ample breasts seeing as the managing partner loved to wear outfits that featured them in a daring, yet tasteful, fashion. If she had met Rosé in a bar, she would definitely have approached her.

Of course, she wasn’t going to tell Kandy that.

“Look, no matter how great her tits are, it’ll never make up for the mouth that she has on her.”

Kandy tutted, picking at her nails. “I’m pretty sure her mouth would be preoccupied when the two of you-“

“KANDY!”

“I’m just saying.”

Denali sighed, rubbing her forehead. God, this conversation was giving her a headache and digging at thoughts she had been trying to avoid herself.

“Listen Kandy, if there is one thing that I would never ever do, it is to sleep with my boss-“

“Denali-“

“I don’t care if she’s staring at my ass, I don’t care what she thinks of it-“

“Girl-“

“Me fucking Rosé McCorkell is never going to happen.”

“Well, as enlightening as this conversation is, it might be a little inappropriate to discuss my preferences in the office, don’t you think?”

She froze at the familiar voice behind her as Kandy quietly excused herself.

Shit.

“Cat got your tongue, Miss Foxx?”

Fucking shit.

Denali slowly stood and turned to look at her boss, who had an amused expression on her face and a file in hand.

“I believe that you left this document behind in my office.”

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Denali moved to retrieve the file from Rosé, trying her best to regain her composure.

“Right, yes- Let me photocopy this for you right away, Miss McCorkell.”

Rosé smirked and leaned in, her lips almost brushing against Denali’s ear.

“Strictly off the record, I do think you have a very nice ass.”

Face flushing a bright red and rendered speechless for a moment as Rosé pulled away, Denali stammered out an excuse before speeding off to the copy room, leaving behind a chuckling Rosé in her wake.

———

Denali was waiting alone for the lift at the end of the day, tapping her foot on the floor as she watched the numbers on the screen climb higher and higher.

It had been a long day, and she was still trying to recover from the embarrassing situation that had happened in the morning. She had spent the whole day actively avoiding her boss, something that wasn’t too difficult to do since she had a long list of tasks from her. Every time she had to drop something off at the older woman’s office, she made it a point to do so when she knew she was out for a meeting or when she was engaged in a call so that Rosé wouldn’t be able to say a word to her.

If she had the opportunity, Denali knew that the managing partner would say something to further humiliate or incite her.

Also, the statement that Rosé had made about her ass was still fresh and in the forefront of her mind, and something Denali had completely not expected. She knew that the two of them butted heads all the time, and that Rosé loved to challenge her secretary and pass along little comments and nicknames just to get a rise out of her. She had suspected that was the main reason that Rosé had hired her, because she was someone who fought back, but that comment about her ass? That had blindsided her.

She didn’t want to admit it, but everything Rosé did and said had an effect on her, and had been for some time now, but that was something that was entirely inappropriate.

Denali shifted her weight, watching the numbers get closer to the floor she was on when she heard the faint clicking of stilettos behind her and shut her eyes, praying to whoever was listening that the person approaching wasn’t who she thought it was, or that the elevator would arrive just before she did. Thankfully, the latter happened as the lift doors opened and Denali quickly stepped into the empty cab, immediately pressing the close button while pointedly making sure not to look up. She let out the breath that she had been unknowingly holding in as the doors slid closed, but her relief was short lived when the doors slid opened again, revealing the very same woman that she had been hoping not to see.

Fuck.

Nodding in greeting, she stepped to the side to give Rosé space, and also to put as much space as possible between the two of them. Rosé nodded back, and stood next to Denali, facing the doors as they closed and the lift slowly descended.

“So where has my little secretary been hiding the whole day?”

Denali’s hand twitched at her side. “I’ve been at my desk the entire day, Miss McCorkell, completing the tasks that you assigned me to do.”

“Is that so? So the little mouse that was scurrying in and out of my office wasn’t you?”

Swallowing a retort, Denali replied with as steady a voice as she could. “I don’t know what you mean, Miss McCorkell.”

Rosé turned her head, an eyebrow raised as she looked down at the squirming girl. Before she could say anything, the lift dinged and a group of people entered, forcing the two of them to take a step back. Denali breathed through her nose, then noticed how close Rosé was to her now in the confined space, so close she could smell the expensive Chanel No. 5 perfume that she loved to wear. Her heart was racing, and she wasn’t quite sure why. Maybe it was the fact that Rosé was now standing close to her, or the fact that her words were replaying over and over in her mind.

Denali stilled when she felt a finger touching the back of hand. She looked down to see a perfectly manicured finger lazily tracing her knuckles before looking up at the owner of the hand, and felt all the air in her lungs escape.

Rosé was staring down at her, eyes a molten hazel and lips curved into that same infuriating smirk that drove Denali insane. She felt the other woman’s fingers slowly slip to the palm of her hand, the light touch causing heat to pool in Denali’s middle and her breath to shorten, and all the while Rosé never took her eyes off her. The younger girl swallowed and bit her lip, noting how the older woman’s heated gaze fell to her throat and then her lips, her palm tingling as Rosé continued to trace patterns on the sensitive skin of her palm.

Seconds later, their little bubble was broken when the lift dinged and people started to shuffle out. Rosé withdrew her hand, and made to leave too, but not before whispering in Denali’s ear.

“Never say never.”

Winking at the frozen girl, Rosé exited the lift, her hips swaying with each step as she left the building.

Denali was fucked.

———

The dynamics of their relationship had changed since that day. Rosé didn’t try as hard as before to get a rise out of Denali anymore. Before it seemed like she was aiming to piss her secretary off, but now it was the opposite. It was as if she was repeatedly trying to fluster her, dropping little teasing comments, purposely brushing their fingers together when passing Denali things, constantly staring intently at her with a knowing smirk on her face. It was slowly driving Denali insane.

She could handle it when Rosé was trying to piss her off, but this? This was completely different and she didn’t know how to handle this kind of attention from her. Denali always found herself blushing to her roots and stammering in response to these new interactions, which seemed to further amuse and encourage the redhead. With each interaction, Denali also found herself questioning everything.

Why was Rosé acting the way that she did?

Was she bored and simply wanted to find something to entertain her?

Was she just toying around with Denali and her emotions?

Sighing as she filled the cup of tea for Rosé’s potential new client, she shook the thoughts out of her head and walked back to the meeting room where he was waiting. Pasting on a polite smile, she pushed the glass door open and set the cup of tea on the table before a greasy looking man that looked as if he was in his late forties.

“Here’s your tea, Mister Tate.” The man smiled back at Denali, taking the cup of tea and sipping from it, all the while giving Denali a once over, much to her discomfort. Putting the cup down, he made a face. “Oh dear, there’s no sugar in this at all, is there?”

Denali blinked. He hadn’t mentioned any sugar earlier, and she had assumed that he wouldn’t need any. “My apologies, Mister Tate, let me get a fresh cup for you.” Reaching over to take back the cup, she was stopped when he grabbed onto her wrist, a sly smile on his face. “There’s no need to bother, it’s fine. After all, I have a sweet, pretty girl like you to entertain me while we wait for Miss McCorkell to arrive.”

Not another one of these men again. Forcing herself not to drop her smile, Denali replied in a tight voice. “Thank you for the compliment, Mr Tate.” She tried to politely tug her hand back to disengage his grip on her wrist, but before she knew it, he was on his feet, an arm slung over her shoulders.

“Mister Tate? No need for formalities, just call me Jim. After all, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around more often now.” Her stomach rolled at the pointed look he had in his eye, the widening smile on his face making him look even greasier. She knew his type and the implications behind his words, and had to force herself to hold in her disgust. As much as she wanted to knee him in the balls, she couldn’t do that here in the office, especially since he was a potential client of Rosé’s.

Swallowing the bile that was rising in her throat, Denali struggled to maintain being civil as she attempted to step out of his grip.

“Mister Tate, if you would kindly please let go of me, I-”

“Come now, Miss Foxx was it? Where’s your sense of hospitality? You forgot the sugar for my tea, but you look like you’ll make up for it-“

“What is going on here?”

The blonde felt a sheer sense of relief flood her when she saw the managing partner standing in the doorway of the meeting room, though the furious look in her eye was something unexpected.

Denali had never seen her this angry before.

The man however seemed completely oblivious to the rising anger of the other woman, and instead smiled at her. “Miss McCorkell! I was just getting acquainted with your lovely secretary here.”

Rosé glared at the man. “Mister Tate, I believe that my secretary doesn’t like your arm around her, and unless you’d like to lose that arm, I suggest that you take it off her.” Looking surprised, the man listened and took his arm off Denali, and she moved away, not wanting to get caught in the crossfire. Her eyes darted between the two as he stammered. “Miss McCorkell, we’re all adults here. I’m just having a bit of fun. Isn’t that why you keep her around? She sure is a stunner-”

Big mistake.

Rosé took a threatening step towards him, fists clenched and eyes glinting with unbridled rage at what he was implying.

“Get out.”

He gaped. “I- I beg your pardon?”

Rosé sneered, looking down at the now pale and shaking man.

“You heard me, you daft man, get out! I don’t need scum like you in my office, and I certainly don’t need your money. Now get out before I call security!”

Gaping like a fish out of water and scrambling to leave, the greasy man grabbed his bag and hurriedly left the office without looking back as Rosé kept her eyes pinned on his retreating back before turning back to face to her secretary. Denali gulped, and instinctively made to apologise, but was stopped when the older woman moved towards her and gently took her by the shoulders, examining her. “Denali, are you alright?” She asked, sliding her hands down and stopping to hold her wrists, rubbing soothing circles into her skin.

Denali hadn’t noticed, but she was shaking, and Rosé’s motions were slowly calming her down. Taking a shaky breath, Denali smiled weakly at her. “I’m fine, Miss McCorkell. Thank you for stepping in when you did.”

Rosé nodded. “Of course, how could I not? But are you sure you’re alright? Do you want to take the rest of the afternoon off?” Denali laughed drily, waving off the offer. “It’s alright, I’m fine now. It’s nothing that I’m not used to.” Rosé’s thumbs stopped moving and she frowned at Denali.

“What do you mean?” Denali blinked. Maybe she shouldn’t have said that.

“I mean I’ve had my fair share of creeps before-“ She explained with a fake laugh, trying to lighten the mood when she saw Rosé’s face darkening.

That wasn’t good.

“You mean here? In my office?”

“Well, er-“ Rosé stepped closer into Denali’s space, raising a hand to cup her face as she stared into the younger’s eyes, voice low as she demanded. “The truth please.” Denali swallowed, feeling the slightly murderous intent that the other woman was exuding, which contradicted the gentle hold that she had on Denali. Hesitantly, Denali nodded.

“..yes.”

Rosé clenched her jaw, taking a second to process what Denali had confirmed, before stepping back and letting go of her secretary. Denali could see that her hands were clenched into fists that Rosé quickly stuffed into the pockets of her suit when she noticed Denali looking at them, as if wanting to hide how she was trying to not lose her temper.

“I want their names.”

Denali frowned, confused. “Wha- Why?”

“So I can tear up their contracts. Anyone who touches you is not worth my time.” Denali’s eyes widened. This sounded like a rash decision, and she didn’t want to cost Rosé or the company money. Breaking contracts meant loss of income, which wasn’t worth it. Not when it was just a simple matter of harassment that she should be able to handle herself. “But Miss McCorkell, it’s not worth it, I can-“

Rosé shot Denali a sharp look at that, cutting her off. “No buts. I want their names on my desk by the end of the day.” Denali swallowed and nodded stiffly as Rosé held her gaze, eyes hardened before softening as she sighed. The managing partner turned to leave, but stopped at the doorway to give her one last meaningful look.

“Denali, don’t ever think that you’re not worth it.”

And she left, leaving behind a wide eyed and blushing Denali staring after her.

———

I have been hung up on the idea of writing a fic with a flirty boss Rosé and feisty secretary Denali. The sexual tension just writes itself.

I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. (:

xoxo Vera

[artificialqueens]

Taste of a Poison Paradise, Chapter 8 (Multi) - Joley

Chapter Summary: Things seem to be going well for Lemon until they go really bad really fast. Things are actually going well for Jackie and Jaida.

ao3 link

For the next couple of weeks, it seemed like Lemon was on the mend. She had finished her finals, gotten through her senior year, and now it was time to celebrate. Hers and Gigi’s graduations were only a couple of days apart, so the group decided to combine their graduation party that weekend.

It was one of the rare times the club was closed on a Saturday, but Jackie wanted to make sure everyone could celebrate together and turned the main room into their party space. “Cheers,” she said, raising her glass, “to Lemon and Gigi, college graduates!”

The group clinked their glasses together and drank, everyone resuming their casual conversation, relaxed, and enjoying one another’s company. With the exception, of course, of Lemon and Priyanka, who were still trying to avoid each other like the plague.

“Look, I love those two as much as the rest of y’all, but I’ve stopped feeling sorry for them — at this point, it’s just annoying,” Kameron remarked as she watched the way they behaved with a grimace. “Not that it’s any of my business, but it kind of is considering how often I have to witness them, but how long were they hooking up for anyway?”

Vanessa furrowed her brows as she counted on her fingers. “Dunno, like four months?”

“Shit, that’s like a lesbian year,” she murmured, sipping her drink. “This isn’t gonna fix itself is it?”

“Not as long as Pri’s got that rock on her finger.”

“It could be worse,” Brooke Lynn chimed in, her lips pursed around the straw in her glass, “at least she doesn’t wear it to work, can you imagine the fit Lemon would throw if she had to stare down a diamond every day?”

The three of them looked at Lemon, who, at least for the moment, appeared to be enjoying herself, then at Priyanka, who was talking to Crystal and looking stressed.

“So, dress shopping is happening on Wednesday?” Crystal asked. “Does she know?”

“Of course she doesn’t know,” Priyanka scoffed and shook her head, “I have no idea how to keep her from knowing, no one can keep a secret in their family.”

Crystal winced but nodded. “Well, good luck,” she offered before Gigi made their way to her side and her attention immediately became divided.

“Thanks,” Priyanka mumbled, her gaze drifting to Lemon, who was talking animatedly to Jan and Rosé, “I’ll need it.”

——

By the time Wednesday rolled around, Priyanka’s nerves hadn’t quelled in the slightest. Lucky for her, at least, those with her — her mother, sister, and future mother-in-law wrote it off as pre-wedding jitters. Scarlett knew better, but there was no need to blow up her best friend’s spot like that.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to a more traditional store?” The mother-in-law asked, “I know Mark doesn’t want your culture to be ignored.”

“It will be two separate ceremonies,” Priyanka’s mom cut in before she could speak for herself, “she will be wearing her grandmother’s sari for that.”

Priyanka had to fight off the pained expression that tried to twist its way onto her face. It was only when she had broken the news to her family that she remembered what a big event weddings were in her family. She wasn’t about to get off lightly with this. Instead, she let the assistant at the shop lead her to a rack of dresses and suggested a few. She agreed to them without giving them a proper look, figuring she would let a majority rule.

Once she was in the first dress, she returned to the main room and stepped up on the platform in front of the mirrors. Right away, the women began discussing and debating the pros and cons of the dress — where it fit right, where it’d need to be taken in. But she couldn’t bring herself to focus on anything, instead zoning out to the song playing through the store’s speakers.

I’m living for the only thing I know I’m running and not quite sure where to go And I don’t know what I’m diving into Just hanging by a moment here with you

Normally, Priyanka would roll her eyes at this sort of song, at the cheesy love in the lyrics. But with her only alternative being actively participating in shopping for a wedding dress, she listened to the music and let it resonate.

Desperate for changing Starving for truth I’m closer to where I started I’m chasing after you

She winced but blamed it on accidentally being stuck with a pin. They didn’t have to play a song that hit so close to home, she thought. It made it that much harder to ignore the feelings that bubbled up inside her. It was only then that she realized someone was talking to her. “Huh?”

“I asked if you liked the dress,” Scarlett replied.

“Oh,” she cleared her throat. “Yeah, it’s fine.” She then realized she should have been more convincing because she found herself ushered back into the dressing room to try on dress number two, which she would then force enthusiasm for so the day would end as soon as possible.

“Are you okay?” her mother asked with sincere concern.

Priyanka nodded as she stepped off the platform. “Just a little lightheaded, I didn’t have breakfast.”

“Well, let’s get this dress taken care of, then we’ll go get something to eat.”

She nodded again as she went back to change into her regular clothes. Maybe she did just need to eat, she thought. Maybe some food or a nap would bring her back into reality. The reality where she was preparing to get married. The reality that Lemon could no longer be the main character in, no matter what some stupid song was trying to tell her. Or even worse, no matter how much she wanted her to be.

——

“You don’t normally ask me to make house calls,” Jaida remarked as Jackie let her into the apartment, “is everything okay?”

Jackie exhaled deeply. No matter how many times she had rehearsed what she was going to say, she still ended up tongue-tied the second she laid eyes on her. But she was determined to work her way through this and not let nerves get the best of her. “I watched the video you did with Denali. I… I watched it more times than I’d like to admit,” she confessed. “And I can’t get the image of you fucking her out of my mind. But more specifically… I can’t stop picturing myself in her place.”

Jaida had to put all of her mental energy into fighting off a smug grin. She wanted to choose her words carefully, not wanting to overwhelm an already anxious Jackie. “Since we’re being honest here, that’s kinda what I was aiming for,” at Jackie’s confused reaction, she continued, “you could have been less obvious with your username and how you talk online. Maybe it’s ‘cause I know you so well, but I could read all of your messages in your voice.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

She shrugged. “I didn’t want you to feel pressured to confront how you felt, considering your coming out was still fresh for you. I just wanted you to know that the option was there whenever you were ready.”

There was a silent beat before Jackie swallowed thickly and told her, “I’m ready.”

“Then tell me what you want, baby.”

“I want you to fuck me.” The words felt foreign for Jackie to say, the phrase has never left her lips with any sort of sincerity before. But at the same time, she had never been more certain in her life about what she wanted and how badly she wanted it.

Jaida moved to Jackie, wrapping her arms around her waist and kissing her deeply. “I’m gonna take good care of you, okay?” she promised as they made their way to the bedroom.

And Jackie trusted her, she trusted her more than she would have anyone else in this position. She let Jaida take her to bed, let her take her time undressing her and pressing kisses to every newly exposed inch of skin. She eagerly helped her clothes off as well, letting her hands roam her body in ways she had only fantasized about.

“I don’t want you to be afraid of being loud,” Jaida told her. “I wanna hear you, wanna know how good I’m making you feel.” As she spoke, her fingers glided down Jackie’s body, stopping between her thighs before starting to rub her clit in small, firm circles.

Jackie’s head tilted back into the pillows, soft moans spilling from her lips. Her body yielded to Jaida’s touch and her moans grew louder as the other woman eased one finger into her, thrusting and curling it before adding another and picking up a steady rhythm.

“Good girl,” she praised, trailing kisses down her body. She then slowly eased her fingers out and replaced them with her tongue, licking and thrusting at a similar pace while her fingers moved to rub her clit in tandem.

It wasn’t long before the sensation became overwhelming and Jackie’s hips started to jerk erratically. She barely managed to squeak out a warning before she came harder than she ever had before, her body trembling when she was spent. “Oh my god…”

Jaida came back up and laid beside her. “Are you okay?” she asked softly, pushing the hair out of her face.

“I’m good,” Jackie assured. “I just… I haven’t… it, um…”

“Jackie…” she furrowed her brows and sat up a bit, “have you ever been with a woman before?”

Jackie’s face turned a deep shade of red. “I have, kind of. It’s been hard to work through so many years of repression and internalized homophobia, you know? I’ve made out with girls, fooled around a bit. But I guess no, I’ve never properly had sex with another woman before. I wouldn’t have wanted to put that pressure on you anyway. Besides, I couldn’t have asked for a better first time.”

Jaida exhaled deeply, suddenly becoming aware of the weight that’d built upon her chest. “Then that’s all I needed to hear.”

——

“There’s a birthday party out there tonight,” Gigi remarked offhandedly as they and Lemon got ready in the quick-change room. “I know how much you love those,” they added with an overly exaggerated eye roll.

Lemon groaned. Birthdays and bachelor parties were tied for the worst groups of men to deal with as clients, the only exceptions being the ones that take it as an opportunity to go all out and tip well. “And you’re on the stage next?” she let out another disgruntled whine when they nodded, finishing off her cocktail. “Gonna get a refill, gonna need it for doing rounds.” Naturally, when she went to the bar, she went right to Crystal. The downside was Crystal knew to cut her off after three drinks and she had to flirt with men to keep the drinks coming.

“You’re getting your third one this early?” Crystal questioned as she mixed it for her. “Something on your mind?”

“Nope. Just got a birthday party that’s probably all gonna want lap dances,” she replied, taking a swig as soon as she got the drink in her hand. Sure, it didn’t help that she had seen Scarlett’s instagram post of Priyanka in her wedding dress earlier, but she wasn’t about to hash that out, especially not with the bride-to-be all of four feet away.

And Crystal wasn’t entirely convinced, but she knew there was no use in pushing further. “Well, good luck,” she offered.

Lemon set her empty glass on the counter before making her way through the crowd. It took a little while before she ended up in the vicinity of the group of men, and not long after that, they flagged her down. At first, it was business as usual, though she couldn’t shake the feeling that one of the men seemed familiar.

“Hey Mark,” the man celebrating his birthday remarked, “maybe we should come back here for your bachelor party. I bet Priyanka won’t mind!” he laughed.

That made Lemon freeze in her tracks as it all clicked. She saw red and her blood boiled with a wave of anger and loathing she had never felt before. Something inside of her took over, she hadn’t even realized she had thrown a drink in his face and screamed at him until Kameron was pulling her away and all eyes in the club were on her, including Priyanka’s, who had dropped everything to run over the second she heard Lemon scream.

“Who the hell are you?” Mark asked incredulously.

“I’m who your fianceé thinks about while you’re fucking her,” Lemon snarled while locked in Kameron’s grasp.

It was then that both Mark and Lemon realized Priyanka was right there. “What the fuck is she talking about, Pri?”

Priyanka felt her heart drop into the pit of her stomach as she prayed for the floor to open up beneath her so the ground would swallow her whole. She knew she had been playing a dangerous game, but she could have never predicted that it would blow up in her face this badly. “I-”

“She’s never gonna love you,” Lemon continued with disdain in her voice. But then her tone softened to a calm, albeit distant one. “But don’t worry,” she looked towards Priyanka, their eyes meeting, “she’s never gonna love me either.”

Other than the music playing in the background, the room was silent as Lemon let Kameron take her upstairs to the common room. “How are you feeling?” she asked gently as she sat at the other end of the couch, resting her hand on the smaller girl’s leg. “You really caused a scene back there.”

“Whatever,” she mumbled. “He was gonna find out eventually. You can’t live a lie forever,” she hiccuped as she sprawled her barely-dressed body out. “I need another drink.”

“The only thing you’re drinking is water,” she said sternly, getting up and grabbing a water bottle from the fridge and bringing it back, propping Lemon up enough so she could drink. “I’m gonna call Rosé and have her take you home, I don’t think you should stick around tonight,” she told her as she fished her phone from her pocket.

Lemon nodded and pushed herself to sit up properly. She hung her head down, intentionally hiding her face from Kameron as she sniffled quietly. “Pri’s gonna hate me now, isn’t she?”

Kameron winced, unsure of how honest she should be with someone both drunk and emotionally unstable. “I think once the dust settles, you two are going to have to have a long talk. It’s not gonna be easy, but it’s gonna be the only way you two have a shot at healing.”

“I ruined her marriage.”

She shook her head. “She ruined her marriage the moment she said yes to someone she didn’t want to be with. She probably would’ve gotten cold feet and left him at the altar,” she mused, both out of her honest belief and the hope that she could get Lemon to crack a smile. And once she did, she felt comfortable getting back up and calling Rosé, warning her of exactly what happened.

“I got here as fast as I could,” Rosé announced once she made it upstairs. “Three different guys tried to buy lap dances off me on the way, sorry,” she added before rushing to her cousin’s side. “You’ve done it now, huh, Lem?” she shook her head as she helped her to her feet.

Vanessa emerged from the locker room with the rest of Lemon’s belongings. “Here, you might wanna get her changed before you take her back outta here.”

Kameron furrowed her brows. “You know her locker combination?”

“Um… yes?” she tucked a bobby pin into her back pocket. “This ain’t about me,” she was quick to change the subject and helped Lemon get changed.

Rosé effectively ignored the entire exchange, saying her goodbyes to the other women before driving Lemon back home and getting her changed again, this time into pajamas. “Mik isn’t home, you can sleep in her bed,” she offered.

Lemon chewed her lip for a moment, then shook her head. “Can I stay with you? I just… I don’t wanna be by myself.”

“Of course, baby,” she assured and tucked her into bed. “Do you need anything? Water? Something to eat?”

“Need to wake up in a world where none of this happened.”

Rosé sighed sadly. “Fresh out, unfortunately.” She changed as well before joining her in bed. “Just wake me if you need anything, okay?” When she got a nod of confirmation, she turned the lights off and called it a night.

But that wasn’t the case for Lemon. No, she wouldn’t be so lucky. Even though she had been drunk, the incident replayed in her mind in great detail no matter how many times she tried to shut it off. That, coupled with struggling to sort through the mix of emotions still swirling through her, kept her awake for another hour or so before exhaustion took over and she passed out.

And back at the club, everyone else was left to pick up the pieces of the explosive incident. But as much as the clientele was willing to move past what they’d witnessed, none of the employees could get themselves to carry on. So, with Jackie’s blessing, they called it an early night and nearly everyone went back home.

Priyanka hung back, seeking solace in Jackie’s office, knowing her boss might be the only one that could understand the gravity of the fallout. “What the fuck am I supposed to do now, Jackie? This is effectively outing me to everyone. And I look bad too, they’re gonna find out I’m gay and a cheater in one go. What should I do?”

Jackie sighed, her heart truly breaking for her. “I wish there was an easy answer for this. I think, for now, you just need to get through the night.”

And Priyanka would, though she was afraid to fall asleep, overwhelmed with the need to postpone tomorrow as long as she could, because she had run out of ways to hide or lie her way out of it.

[mermaidcashton]

i hate to admit it

author: claire (@mermaidcashton) ship: michael clifford/reader prompt/AU: this is a gift for the wonderful @h0tsos who wanted soft, subby Michael in an enemies to lovers capacity (and i snuck some coffee shop!au in there as well, and some weebness because, well, it’s Steff and Michael) wordcount: 4k+ warnings: swearing, alcohol mentions, explicit sexual content a/n: • written for @maluminspace & @h0tsos ‘s 5sos fic writers collab (which was a gift exchange this time around) • i do not give permission for this (or any of my writing) to be reposted, by anyone, on this or any other website. please don’t do it! • title from ‘this means war’ by mariana’s trench • ‘my hero academia’ is a manga/anime series. there are references to it and a few of the characters in this but you don’t need to know anything about it to understand what’s going on.

i hate to admit it *** “So, they’re like...superheroes?” 

Luke sipped on his glass of rosé, nodding like he understood whilst making a face that showed he absolutely did not.

“Yeah, dude, pretty much!” Michael nodded along with your co-worker with so much enthusiasm he looked like one of those dogs people put on their dashboards. Except less cute. Wait, no - not cute. Definitely not cute at all. Good save, you. Couldn’t have your own internal monologue thinking you felt anything for the moron you were forced to work with 3 times a week was anything more than an annoyance you had to endure. With a butt that wouldn’t quit. Dammit, self! 

Michael took advantage of Luke showing an interest in his (and yours) favourite anime, and began bombarding him with half baked theories, predictable favourite scenes and shitty character analysis. He nearly knocked his own hat off as he flailed his hands around in an attempt at explaining the dynamics of a battle from the second season. Luke smiled politely. 

You snorted into your drink as you drained the last of it; you were definitely going to need another. If Michael started fanboying over Deku again, you were going to scream.

As you placed the empty bottle onto the wood of the coffee table, you took another glance around the apartment you were in. You’d never been up here before, despite spending a minimum of 20 hours a week in the coffee shop downstairs. But after this evening’s staff meeting tackling such issues as ‘who forgot that milk needs to be kept in the fridge overnight’ (Luke), ‘who is putting too much whipped cream on hot chocolates’ (Michael), and ‘who wrote ‘THIS COFFEE IS HOT, BUT U R HOTTER ❤ ) on a customers caramel macchiato’ (Luke again), Ashton had invited you all upstairs for a ‘employee chill’. You had been surprised a week or so into your employment when you had found out that the manager was also the owner who lived in the apartment above Screamin’ Beans; he was only in his mid twenties, but the more you’d experienced his drive and determination, the more your surprise had dwindled. Ashton really was a great guy, with one big flaw; Michael. They had been best friends for years, hence him moving into the apartment when he came back into town and the job Ashton had given him; which in your humble opinion was the equivalent of setting a monkey loose on the milk frother.   

Michael had sealed his fate with you the same day he’d started work. He arrived 10 minutes late (from upstairs), sleepy eyed and shy smiled. His fluffy blonde hair was spilling out of his beanie, and he kept biting his very pink lip bottom with sharp little teeth. The way he pronounced your name was adorable. You’d burned your hand on the espresso machine. Strike one. Things unravelled quickly after that. He was ‘too shy’ to take orders and work the register so you were stuck there all day talking to goddamn customers about why it wasn’t a good idea to have 3 pumps of every syrup while he hid behind silver machinery and dirtied way more jugs than you deemed necessary. Strike two. And then he’d dropped a latté into that ladies bag - sorry, very expensive bag. Michael had let out a ‘uuuhhh’ sound like a malfunctioning robot without moving for so long that the furious customer had stopped trying to yell at him and focused her rage on you instead. When he had eventually come to whatever passed for his senses, Michael had power walked into the employee bathroom and didn’t return until Calum arrived to join the shift and assured him the woman had left, twenty minute later. You were beyond strikes. You’d been so sure you could talk Ashton into scheduling you together as little as possible. There was no reason to put you down to work nearly every shift together, especially shifts where only two staff were on! Except, apparently there was because he kept fucking doing it. Every time you pressed Ashton on it, he’d say something about how he needed Michael ‘trained by the best’, or ‘matching availabilities’, or he thought their ‘energies combined well; auras are meshing, y’know?’ The one might have been on you for catching him as he was returning from his Vibe Check Yoga class at the studio down the street. 

He’d also emphasised that Michael needed more friends now he was back in the city, and you two had loads in common! You both liked pop punk! You’d rolled your eyes. And Italian food! A ‘tch noise. And anime! Okay, you’d bite. 

The next time you’d gone into work, you’d engaged Michael in a conversation about ‘Tokyo Ghoul’ and recommended ‘Demon Slayer’; things started to pick up. You didn’t fantasise about locking Michael in the walk-in fridge the whole shift. And then…

“You watch ‘My Hero Academia’, right?” “Uh, yeah! I love it.” “Me too! I just ordered a Todoroki tee yesterday. And another Deku one, of course; gotta rep my main man!” “Oh..cool! He’s your favourite?” Of course Michael was a basic bitch. But hey, that’s fine. Deku was fine. He was the main character, after all. And he’s a little less whiny in the recent manga issues, you guess. And the way Michael’s face was right now - open, comfortable, lit up like the 4th of July? That was good, too. His eyes were so green.  “Yeah! Who’s your favourite character?” “Well, I would die for a bunch of ‘em, but I’m a Bakugou girl at heart.” You laid a palm flat on your chest, choosing to ignore the feel of your heart beating faster than it had been five minutes ago beneath it.  Michael wrinkled his nose. “Bakugou? But he’s like...he’s so mean! And angry!”

Oh no. You’d had this conversation before. You locked eyes with Michael, hoping he could see the warning in your eyes. Don’t do it, ho.

“Like, he’d probably make a better villain than hero!”

“You okay, boo?” Calum slid into the space on the couch beside you, holding out a fresh beer for you to take. “You look deep in thought.”

You hummed and accepted the bottle from him, letting go of your train of thought as you caught sight of Luke trying to prove he could get his overly long leg behind his head. Michael and Ashley F. were both actively trying to avoid getting kicked in the face with a sparkly boot, whilst Ashton was just monitoring the situation very intently; you’re not entirely sure when he last blinked. 

You snorted again as Luke’s foot slotted into place in a position you were 85% sure he would not be able to get out of again without assistance, possibly from the emergency services.

“I’m fine. Gotta be one of us capable of thinking here, y’know.” You teased, looking sidelong at Calum. He laughed, rubbing a hand over his freshly shaved hair; he’d always been as easy to get along with as he was obnoxiously handsome. “Hey! You’re lucky I know you’re talking about the human pretzel over there! And I guess, your boyf-” Big brown eyes glittered at you over the hand you’d slapped over his mouth. “-fwendth.” Narrowing your own eyes at your friend, you hissed. “Shut up! I would rather die.” Calum waggled his eyebrows incessantly at you until you relented and dropped your hand. “You knew who I was talking about, though.” Ugh. Smug was not a good look on Calum. “You know, smug is not a good lo-oh fuck, is that the time?” The clock behind Calum’s head showed 8:58; your auction ended at 9:00. You fumbled into your bag for your phone, unlocking it and flicking straight to the app you needed. Phew - still the top bid. “Whatcha doin’?” Calum hooked his chin over your shoulder, blowing your hair out of his face before settling down. 

“Bidded on a really cool, limited edition figure. One of my all time favourite anime characters. The auction is about to end.” You explained,  making sure Calum could hear you other the cacophony of sounds associated with Luke trying to get his other leg behind his head. You both watched the seconds tick down, your username sitting securely by the words ‘Winning Bid’. At two seconds to nine, the page refreshed, then refreshed again; it was over.

‘Winning Bid: BIGRED69’ “Uh...what happened? That’s not you, right?” Calum asked, tilting his head to look at your face, and the rage it contained. BIGRED69. He’d done it again. 

“Uh oh, Y/N - what’s wrong?” Ashton’s voice pulled you out of your internal screaming, and you looked up at him. 

“She’s losing her weeb shit at a heavy eBay loss” Calum answered for you, nodding solemnly as he pulled away from you, giving you room to bonk him with a cushion. “Oh! That’s too bad, but that’s another thing you and Mikey have in common!” Ashton beamed. “Mikey!” Oh no. Oh no, no.

“Yeah?” Michael sloped over, getting his black boot caught on the corner of the leopard print rug as he did. Ashton caught him with an ease you suspected (knew) came from practice. “Why don’t you take Y/N to see your anime dolls? She collects them, too!” Ashton looked so pleased with himself and his suggestion for further ‘bonding’ for you and Michael, and Michael looked like he’d been force fed raw lemon at the phrase ‘anime dolls’, so you let it go on your own behalf. Except now Michael was waiting expectantly for you to follow him to his room and Calum was shoving you off of the couch to get you moving. Fuck your life. You sighed as you got up and started walking. “Fine, let’s go; you can show me your Todoroki body pillow and then we can get on with our lives.” Michael let out a small hiss like an angry kitten, his cheeks colouring a pretty pink. He spared a glance at everyone left in your wake. “I, um, don’t have a body pillow, you guys.” “Suuuuure!” You rolled your eyes, waiting for Michael to enter his bedroom so you could follow. The blonde flicked the light on and moved slightly further in so you could pass him, before shutting the door with a small ‘click’. You decided not to comment on this action, looking around at the posters on the walls and figurines on the shelves instead. You were undecided on whether or not you were going to comment on how cool a lot of Michael’s shit was. A ‘Full Metal Alchemist’ poster over his bed, a full shelf of Funko Pops from movies you loved, framed prints of album artwork by Waterparks and The Maine. Fuck. You were really aware of Michael staring at you with an almost hopeful (?) look on his face as you let your eyes travel around his room before he could show you his ‘anime dolls’. Fuck. Your stomach felt fluttery, and you thought you might have a serious problem here, before you caught sight of a very different problem on Michael’s desk. 

A rare Kirishima Eijirou statue - box signed by the voice actor - you’d been outbid on last month. By BIGRED69. What were the chances a different one was sitting by Michael’s laptop?

“So,” You said, trying to keep your voice neutral and non-murderous. “Where do you get your collectibles from?” “Forbidden Planet, Tokyo Toys, eBay…” Michael rattled off, until you interrupted him. “Where did you get that one? Looks rare - it must have been difficult!” 

“Oh! eBay! It was, but I have an app for it, so…” Michael grinned, looking pleased with himself. An app? “An automatic bidding app? You sniped me?! That’s cheating!” You squeaked; you could not believe this. It was unbelievable.

Michael blinked at you, head empty. “BIGRED69?!” You managed to make the world’s stupidest screen name sound like a terrible accusation. Which it was.

Comprehension dawned on his stupid, beautiful face all at once. “Oh my God! That was you that I’ve been fighting for this stuff? No way! But you didn’t know it was me?”

“Why the hell would I know it was you!” You threw your hands up, and Michael just stared dopily back at you.

“‘Bigred69?! Obviously I assumed you were 12!” Michael let out a squawk of protest, before folding his arms defensively across his chest.

“Clifford!” “What?” Michael’s tone became more insistent. “My last name! Clifford!” You pulled an exaggerated ‘so?!’ face, throwing your hand in the air again. 

Michael had the unmitigated gall to huff, like you were the biggest idiot in the room; like he wasn’t always the biggest idiot in every room, all rooms, ever, in the history of rooms. “Clifford the Big Red Dog!” He said, insistence heavy in the words.

You often swore you could almost hear the old internet dial up tone trilling inside Michael’s brain when customers at the coffee shop asked him such difficult questions as “What dairy alternative milks do you carry?”, “Where is the bathroom?”, and even once - you swear - “What’s your name?”. In Michael’s defence, that last one had been asked in more flirtatious-than-not tone by a brunette who clearly had some kind of vision problem (he’d been dressed more horrendously than usual that day beneath his uniform apron; was that a utility vest?!), but had fluttered her eyelashes at your idiot colleague so hard, for so long, you’d been concerned she’d be leaving without what little vision she’d arrived with. But still. Idiot. Michael, not you. And yet, now it was you with your brain puttering through the information you had with the shrill electronic sound of the 90’s in your head. “Clifford the- are you for fucking real?” This could not be real life.

“It’s totally clever!” Michael asserted, continuing in earnest once you scoffed in reply. “No, listen! Because of Clifford, and also, I had red hair when I made it, and 69 is funny - it is! - and, well-” His face flushed slightly before he puffed his chest out a little, apparently deciding to commit to his defence of his screen name. “I’m big, so it works on like, loads of levels!” 

This could not be happening to you. You were decidedly not standing in the bedroom of a coworker you simultaneously couldn’t stand and also couldn’t stop thinking about kissing as you restocked the counter fridges in the evenings, as he explained that his auction site handle was a combination of a previous dye job, an insinuation about his dick and a massive fucking dog. You could not let Michael have the upper hand here, but you were floundering. So you fell into more familiar, more pathetic territory. 

“If you were called something like ‘deku-loving-loser’, then, sure - I would have known it was you!” “Who’s 12 now?!” “Uh, still you!” Okay, so this wasn’t your finest moment, but you were in it now. And you’d really wanted the Kaminari figure tonight. Michael didn’t even like him that much!

“The point is, you totally sniped me! And you get stuff about basic canon wrong! And your understanding of the characters is one dimensional! And, and...your hat is stupid!” Well, shit. In your defence, Michael’s hat was stupid. You could feel how hot your face was, and Michael’s eyes looking right at it was only making it worse. You couldn’t read his expression at all; he looked like he was searching for something, and you didn’t know what it was, or if he’d find it. You could only assume he had when he took the most decisive steps you’d ever seen him take, reaching you in two huge steps and cupping your face with both hands. Michael kissed in a way he didn’t do anything else; he felt sure and certain as he pressed his lips to yours, moving them with intent. Your brain became overtaken with television static almost immediately as you moved your mouth in time with his, opening your mouth immediately at the questioning press of his tongue. You had enough of yourself left aware to yank his stupid fucking hat off his head as you tangled your fingers in his blonde hair, Michael’s hands sliding down to clutch at your waist as you swayed with the kiss. As Michael pulled back ever so slightly, you took the opportunity to press your teeth into his plush bottom lip, the way you’d thought of doing in afternoon slumps on shift. The whine that came from deep in Michael’s throat made a split second decision for you. 

You pulled back further from Michael, yanking your top off in one go and starting in on the buttons of his black shirt before he fully registered the sight of your bra and the top of your full breasts.  

“Shit, Y/N, are you…” Michael trailed off as you pulled his sleeves down his arms, and the shirt off this body. Your eyes met his as you popped the button on his black jeans and placed your hand on his zipper. “Do you really want me to overthink this, Michael?” A moment’s pause, then he shook his head vigorously, leaning down to pull his boots off once you’d yanked his jeans to his knees. By the time he was left in his (funnily enough, black) boxer briefs, you’d discarded your own jeans and were knelt at the foot of his bed in your soft, lilac underwear. Michael’s breath hitched as his gaze drifted down your body, taking it all in under the artificial light of the room. “Get over here, Clifford…” You teased, trying not to second guess what was happening. Michael broke out of his trance and more or less threw himself onto the bed, settling his head on the pillows and pulling you on top of him for another kiss, and then another, and another. By the time you pulled back to catch your breath, your head was spinning. You braced yourself on your forearms on the bed, taking the time to admire Michael’s body beneath you. 

You’d seen the tattoos on his pale, strong arms before, but they looked different in this context; the contrast between the milky skin and dark ink made your stomach swoop. The blonde hair on his head is also a contradiction; to the dark hair on his chest and the hair trailing down his stomach and disappearing under his waistband. Your mouth felt very dry as you let your gaze continue downward, to the straining bulge beneath the fabric.

You flicked your eyes back to meet Michael’s in question, your fingers suddenly resting on the waistband of his underwear. Michael swallowed thickly, and then nodded once before fixing you with a gaze of pure anticipation. 

No use waiting around. You propped yourself up onto your knees over him and pulled on the fabric decisively, not stopping your motion until his underwear bunched up at his ankles. Holy shit.

You always knew Michael had to have at least one redeeming quality, and you’d finally found it. His cock was huge, hanging heavy and hard between his fuzzy thighs. The head was flushed the darkest pink you could ever remember seeing, and the slit was already shiny with precum. 

If a voice in your head that sounded unfortunately like Calum pressed that Michael had lots of qualities you secretly found redeeming, you ignored it in favour of getting straight to business.

“FUCK! FUCKIN-” 

Apparently, Michael hadn’t been prepared for you to take half of his impressive length into your mouth in one go. You sucked with intent, casting your eyes up to take in the sight of him. His pupils were already starting to blow, and you’d barely done anything. God, that was so sweet.

But then Michael threaded his fingers through your hair, his hand pressing ever so slightly into your scalp. The blonde wasn’t pushing down, but his grip was firm. You could feel the weight of his hand on the top of your head as you held his cock in your mouth, and that shit? Would not stand.

You grab the wrist brushing your hair a second before your other hand finds his idle one, fingers twisted loosely in the sheets. Once you’ve captured both wrists, you guide both to the same point above Michael’s hips, before slamming both into the mattress with purpose. 

If you’d had time to think about it, you’re not sure how you would have expected Michael to react. He didn’t really put out the energy of a man who’d properly fight you for control, either in a domineering way or with more of an air of fragile masculinity. Perhaps a bit of questioning but ultimately compliant as long as he got his dick sucked. But the wanton moan that kicked out of Michael’s chest as you settled into a tight grip on his wrists where you had them pinned on the sheets with intent? That was unexpected. That was interesting.   

Your mouth had remained still on his cock whilst you got his wrists pinned down, more cockwarming him than blowing him. But now you had him so pliant and under your control, it was go time. You pulled back up his cock, wrapping your lips tightly around the head of Michael’s cock, and sucked with gusto. Another groan from above you. You worked your tongue all the way around the head before pulling back enough to flick it into Michael’s sensitive slit. “Oh my fuuu- Y/N, God, I-” Michael was starting to writhe, his hairy legs rubbing into the sheets beneath you. You could feel his wrists moving along with the rest of his body, but you knew you’d made it clear you’d wanted him pinned, and he made no move to get his hand free. Good boy. You sank steadily back down Michael’s length, at least to the six inch mark, before pulling back up, hollowing your cheeks as you went. Back down a little further, then up, back to teasing the head, using your tongue. Michael couldn’t predict what you were going to do next, and it was clearly pushing all of his buttons. You could taste the precum that his cock kept kicking out into your mouth and throat, and see the flush spreading down his neck. By the time you’d pulled, drool beginning to build at the sides of your mouth, Michael was a mess, moaning as much as he was breathing. This could get addictive, you thought to yourself as you let your mouth drop to his balls, and your thumbs press into the pulse points on his wrists. You hummed before you released his left ball from your mouth with a wet pop, and that’s when Michael started begging. “Please, please, Y/N, I wanna-” he panted, cutting himself off over and over. “You’re so beautiful, lemme- God, fuck, it feels so amazing, you’re- I’ve been good, I’ll do anything, please…”

You pretend to consider his pleas as you dragged your tongue over his right ball, dipping into all the creases and leaving them wet behind you. Drawing back up onto your knees, you released one of his wrists so you could push his sweaty blonde bangs back from where it was plastered to his forehead, drinking in the vision before you. His green eyes were nearly completely black, blown out with arousal. The sheen on the skin of his face and body made him glow. His lips were chapped from his teeth tugging on them, and the pink of the matched the flush spread from his cheeks down his chest. And the wrist you were no longer restraining hadn’t moved a centimeter, still pressed firmly to the mattress. Michael was a good boy. And you knew how to treat good boys. With no preamble, you took Michael back into the wet heat of your mouth, relaxing your throat and not stopping until your nose was buried in the soft thatch of trimmed hair on his crotch. You took a moment to situate yourself and enjoy the deep whines bursting out of Michael’s throat into the quiet of his bedroom, before you began to move again, swallowing around his cock. You saw his thighs begin to tremble to the side of you before you heard him speak. “Fuck, fuck, Y/N, please, I’m gonna-” You hummed as hard as you could, pushing Michael’s wrists with that little bit more force into the bed as you did. Michael let out his loudest whine yet - bordering on a sob- as he came, shooting down your throat as he writhed beneath you. 

You swallowed everything he gave you, and when you were sure he was finished, you pulled off slowly, and gently, releasing his wrists as you stood back up on your knees.

Michael looked blissed out, staring dreamily up at you with bright, adoring eyes. He still was yet to move his hands. “Hey.” “Hi.” You smirked down at him. “I believe I heard something about you’d ‘do anything’?” You shot a quick glance at the figurine on his desk, and down at yourself. “I had some ideas…” 

collab masterlist • my masterlist

[allyvampirelass29]

The Hourglass and The Oracle

A NOS4A2 Review By: Allyssa J. Watkins

A spiraling staircase A bold fuchsia beauty Lights flicker in your eyes As our energies collide And, Darling, you're starting to get to me......

I'm not your Darling, John Buy a girl a drink first Before you thirst For what you can't get your hands on Throwing my head back with a laugh You're going to fall And it's going to be too fast Who said I was yours to catch? Ask me again And I'll ask you to dance

May I have a moment of your time? I don't need to be a Strong Creative, Dear To tease your mind A turn of the hourglass A trick of the sublime You're like sand through my hands Sifting too fast to touch And it's not enough...... You're the exceptional exception When I say we're hard to love.

Sparks fly Drawing you in I'll make you believe in magic again Fate's siren song calls to the Hourglass Man I guess it's my turn To show you my hand But be forewarned, My Gentleman Friend There's no telling what happens When you open the door to the static You might not want the answer Once you have it Shaking the bag Rolling the Dice A cigarette burn is a more than fair price To watch time drain from the Hourglass' eyes Clutching the hurt As your knife catches my eye Shattering your glass Scattering your sand Close your eyes, You Hopeless Flirt This is me, skipping dessert I gotta say you put up one hell of a fight Say goodnight, John You've run out of time

CHECK. FREAKING. MATE!!!!! Ladies and Gentlemen, the MATCH has been called, and the Hourglass didn't stand a chance against the Woman of the Hour, Our Dauntless Oracle, and very own, Miss Margaret Leigh!!! My GOD, Maggie seized her time to shine in a dazzling foray of sultry seduction, and deadly spectacle, and while it may have been The Hourglass' last bow, it was the iridescent ORACLE who stole the show, and she alone deserves our standing ovation!!! I LOVED this episode, beginning to end, the intrigue, the sleek deception, the intense human drama, all beautifully intertwined in this beguiling game within a game, a chess match of like-minded Creative prowess!!! Brava, Miss Leigh, and bravissimo, NOS4A2, for spoiling us yet again!!! "The Hourglass," is a violin overture of vulnerable human moments, and intellectual powerplays, reaching the fever pitch of the most ghastly, scream-bloody-murder cliff hangar of the entire series.

Where last week Charlie was the blunt force trauma, the pounding hammer, smashing everyone and everything in his path to Wayne, Maggie is the stealth strike, the seductively wielded scalpel, removing Charlie's secret weapon with lethal precision, after he proves to be the more immediate threat to her best friend, now that Charlie's absconded with her son. She's a force to be reckoned with, a fuchsia femme fatale, as lovely as she is deadly, the perfect rosé of coy and coquettish as she flirts with time and death itself. It was her finest hour, hands down, and I LOVED that NOS4A2 gave her the spotlight, and that she literally KILLED, leaving us begging for more.

Stop me if you've heard this one before. Two Strong Creatives walk into a bar........ Like an ingenue reminiscent of Old Hollywood, with every lilac strand of her rebellious florescence pinned in place, Maggie descends the long, spiral staircase, sending the lights to flicker, and drawing the eye of an instantly intrigued, Mr. Hourglass. I must say, The Hourglass Man's smooth, and tenacious pursuit of our Maggie, was a FANTASTIC blindsight, a surprise I never saw coming!!! Where I expected a smouldering duel to the death as soon as their eyes met, knives flying, I found myself drawn instead, irresistibly into the tantalizing tango between the two of them. Their witty repartee was both sparkling, and sharp-edged, as John advanced, and Maggie countered, playing hard to get, while secretly drawing him in. It's thrilling to watch, marveling at these seemingly unlikely lovers, and yet, with each move and countermove, I could see how much they thought alike, both crafty intellectuals, who knew how to play the game, and how to win.

"We're hard to love. People fall for us because of our abilities, but they always come to fear the very thing that drew them in. They tell us to tone it down, betray our gifts, like declawing a cat. It's cruel."

This is my favourite line in the entire episode, it struck me straight to the heart, tears in my eyes, overwhelmed by its tragic beauty and excruciating truth. It's also the one time that Maggie's smoky-eyed seductive veil slips, and she lets herself feel something very real. In that moment, as fleeting as it is, there are no sides, no waiting plots, or poised vendettas. There are two Strong Creatives, two kindred supernatural beings with very human feelings. Victims of their own gifts, with universal wants, and desires. Powers greater than their wildest dreams, but at what cost? In this moment, Maggie cares about John, connects with him, because she feels these words burn emblazoned, even hotter than the cigarette he's about to press into her arm.

Two Strong Creatives walk into a bar....... and only one comes out alive. These two take, "Get a room," to a whole new level!!! "I'm not going to hurt you, unless you want me to........." John says smoothly, before pressing a lit cigarette into Maggie's arm, telling her to harness the pain, let it consume her, until it's all she knows, and then whispers his question like a sweet nothing in her ear, nuzzling her close. John, with all of his scheming predilections and parlor tricks has found a way to cheat the Strong Creative check when it comes due. In event of seizures, or memory loss, you can hurt yourself...... or hurt someone else. I had always secretly suspected this proviso, I even wrote it into my own NOS4A2 Series, that my character's compassion gets punished by unknowingly hurting someone else, every time she uses her gift, but seeing John's shocking demonstration, breathing in with explicit pleasure as he burns her, watching Maggie's big brown eyes spark, both excited, and relieved that she can hurt herself and still use her powers, was an absolute ordeal. I have a feeling Maggie just discovered a dangerous new addiction........

Speaking of ordeals........ John shatters a glass table, ready to kill the messenger, when he doesn't get the answer that he wants, the fates formally denying his request for immortality. And it is here, in the midst of his ruffled, heartbroken, rage, that the events deviated dramatically from my own predictions. I thought Charlie had promised him immortality in exchange for killing Vic McQueen, and that Maggie had unwittingly unmasked this betrayal, proving Charlie had lied, offering the Creative Holy Grail that he intended to keep for himself. Immortality, apparently a non-transferrable work benefit. With our slighted Hourglass primed for revenge, and his particular fascination for Maggie, I thought for sure she'd be able to turn him against Charlie, brandish the Hourglass against his new business partner, rallying him to Vic's cause, and more or less, have him join Team McQueen to take Manx down once and for all.

I was wrong...... So, so wrong. I don't think any of us saw what was coming....... "It's rare I get such a hands on opportunity," John rasps, once he finds his stolen knife in Maggie's bag, teasing seduction climaxing into a crime of passion, as the two of them scrapple and scrape for the hourglass. "Sweetheart, give up. You're not getting out of here alive." Maggie gets choked, hurled over the shattered glass table, but you can't keep a good girl down, and The Hourglass is no Charlie Manx. "I tried to warn you, John, my tiles are never wrong." Maggie thrusts a shard of glass up into the Hourglass Man's heart, and with an anguished, hopeless cry he watches her stomp his knife into the ground, coming down on it hard, leaving nothing but shattered glass, and scattered sand. WOW........ I am speechless. I have to admit, I did not expect Charlie's new player and point man to be vanquished this early in the game, as awestruck as I am by this new fearless facet of Maggie's unique brilliance. She was elegant, badass, and beautiful, and I'm so glad he's dead, but I don't know....... I felt like his death was his third and final disappointment. Sorry John, we'll always have Parnassus.

Oh my God, if Maggie was this episode's Oscar Winner for Best Actress, Linda Freaking McQueen WINS for Best Supporting Actress!!!! She's the other sassy heroine of "The Hourglass," mouthing off to FBI agents like nobody's business, and it is SENSATIONAL!!!! "What does FBI stand for, huh? Failed. Bad. Incompetent? We're Americans!!! My husband works for the postal service, I go to CHURCH!!! Do better!!!" You TELL 'EM Linda!!! She's a delight in every scene she's in, standing up to the suits, and telling them what's what!!! She's had it with these big, fancy, feds not protecting her daughter, and she ain't afraid to get vocal about it. Aaaaaah and the whole conversation with her and Chris was AMAZING!!! There is something so fascinating about two hard knock realists, two complete skeptics talking about the possibility of the Supernatural.

"There's a difference between special, Chris, and magic. Our daughter ain't magic."

"How would you know?"

"Because I wiped her snotty nose, for Christ's sake!!! What kind of mother misses something like that?"

"The kind that's too busy hiding bruises and paying bills to look up."

Linda's emphatic disbelief is so perfect, and I just love the way she says that, "Our daughter ain't magic!" I also love how Chris is starting to believe in Vic, and it's that burgeoning faith in his daughter's abilities that makes Linda start to wonder if maybe her daughter could be magic. Chris owning up to his past mistakes, and blaming himself, for his wife's oversight, was such a bittersweet moment too, wanting so badly to let her off the hook. He's changed, they both have, and I couldn't be more proud. Another beautifully human moment that I really loved was between her and Vic, and here we finally find out why the McQueen women can't be close to each other. "I never felt that you needed me." It's a rare, deeply insightful look into Linda's heart, a vulnerable truth, and I feel like I know them both even better through it. Linda needs to be needed, she needs to have somebody to take care of, somebody that relies on her, and with a drunk, philandering husband who sought comfort elsewhere, and a fiercely independent daughter, Linda had no one. She felt listless, without purpose, and thus drowned her sorrows with a tipped back bottle.

The scene with Vic and Lou cuddling in his hospital bed also strikes a chord in this veritable symphony of human emotion, and with every new episode, I ship Team McCarmody even harder!!! Lou with a stint in his heart, and Vic with a concussion, and injured spleen, have this impossibly sweet moment, in the midst of the aftermath and ever-present horror of the abduction of their son. I love how they anchor each other, try to calm each other down, and still manage to make each other laugh.

"Han Solo ain't half the mechanic as Lou Carmody."

"Did you- Did you just refer to yourself in the third person...... and rate yourself....... ABOVE Han Solo?"

Vic's laugh in that moment is so pure, and a much needed relief, as she holds onto the love, the teddy bear of a man, that Charlie couldn't take from her, and in that moment, she decides to focus on what she has left, even while fighting for what she has lost. I'm reminded of a quote from my other favourite show, HEROES. "We're human first, and heroes second."

Charlie may take a back seat this episode, but he is still a coaxing, debonair presence with a teasing linger, and not without another clever trick up his sleeve. "There is no need to hide your cellular telephone from me, My Boy," He coos as Wayne fumbles to sneak a call to his Mom. I was SHOCKED when Charlie urged Young Bats to do just that, call his mother. "What kind of MONSTER do you take me for?" He asks silkily, feigning indignance, and with bated breath, we wait as the phone rings, and rings, and rings...... No way in HELL is Vic not taking that call, and yet, Young Master Wayne hangs his wildly curly head, defeated, as the call goes unanswered. "She's a real heartbreaker, your mother...... isn't she? Never there for you, no matter how good you are. It's not personal, Wayne. In the end Vic McQueen cares only for herself and no one else," Charlie chortles, and he knows it's working....... bit by bit, he means to turn his new favourite charge, against his own mother, convince him of her neglect and indifference. My theory? Charlie can block calls using his creative power, which would explain how he's avoided capture, and the FBI's modern trappings for so long. You sneaky, sneaky boy!!!

OH HELLO CRAIG!!!! Yes, you read that right...... CRAIG, Wayne's father who burned to death in the Wraith, like a ghastly apparition appears to his son, with singed skin, and glazed over eyes. At first I thought this was Charlie manipulating Wayne, showing what his mother did to his father, and how he wasn't ever going to be safe with her, but to my own astonishment, Charlie could not see him!!! Craig encourages Wayne, tells him Charlie's lying, gives him hope, and insists she's coming for him. I thought that was a spectacular, wide-eyed SHOCK that came out of thin air, and I couldn't help but think about how Cassie appeared to her daughter in this same way........ Hmmm can children, if they are Strong Creatives themselves, see the parents they have lost at the hands of Charlie Manx? Curiouser and curiouser........

My breath caught, everything going numb, when that bloody tooth fell out in Wayne's tiny hand. I LOVE that little boy with all my heart and soul, and I'm sorry, Charlie, but I do NOT want him to become a vampire!!! Wayne starts to change in other ways too, playing with a butterfly, as his usual cheerful self, adorably naming him Sunny, before killing it, ripping it into shreds, his sweet little face devoid of any emotion. WHAT!? I had chills like crazy, and I felt heartsick. I don't know though, did anybody else think that butterfly looked strange, almost not quite real? The way the Wraith rolled down the window to let it in...... It makes me wonder if this didn't just happen in Wayne's mind.

I did notice though, how long it took for the Wraith to siphon off Wayne's youth to heal the nasty gash on Charlie's cheek. Even Charlie starts to worry, checking the mirror again and again, only to find it slightly healed, and it's not until the near end of the episode that he looks one more time, nails resting on the side of his head, sighing into his hand with relief, when he sees his once again flawless visage staring back. It's like Wayne is fighting the car, slowing down its effects, because no child has gone this long without turning!!! All exciting further proof that Wayne HAS to be a Strong Creative!!! I also love how Charlie continues to be the perfect, doting father figure, ever so careful and patient with Wayne, and I just melted, with a besotted sigh when he asked him if he had to use the water closet!" That was precious!!! Also, my new FAVOURITE thing ever, is Charlie click-clacking his long, gorgeous nails along the Wraith's windows as he walks past it!!! Dear GOD, Handsome, WHAT are you doing to me!?

THAT ending though........ I'm crying....... I SOBBED, I'm so not okay. What the freaking HELL.........!?!? Just as we're all having cozy Charlie and Wayne feelings, fawning over them both, that DAMNED BASTARD Bing Partridge comes out of NOWHERE surprising our dashing vampire, shoving the gas hose in his face, and he goes down HARD!!!! Once he's disabled the Wraith, he abducts Charlie, and leaves Wayne behind. It's blood-curdling to watch....... knowing what horrors Bing has already committed, and what dark intention he holds for his once upon a time hero, now that Charlie's left him to die. I'm freaking scared. I was hyperventilating, and full of murderous fury even hours after the episode had ended. The wait for next week is going to hit a lot different, after that cruel cliff-hanger, and I can only hope Charlie can dangle Christmasland in an effort to thwart Bing's fat, homicidal hand. Bing Partridge, you hateful Son of a BITCH, if you disturb so much as one strand of Charlie's beautiful raven hair, I'm gonna KILL you SO DEAD!!! Time's run out for the Hourglass, will another of Vic's foes meet the same fate? Bing Partridge must DIE!!! Somebody......... SAVE CHARLIE MANX!!!!!

[serendipityseulgi]

a love that burned so deep.

— jeon jungkook

･*:༅｡ the one where loving jungkook was easy. but for him, he just didn’t know how. 

aka, fwb!au, f2l, and an unhealthy relationship with an excessive use of the word fuck.

EDIT: i would also like to note in no way am i saying this relationship is healthy. as some of you know, i tend to write from some personal experiences or things i’ve been apart of/seen in my life, so although i understand this isn’t the most conventional relationship, it is very real thing that happens. the reader and jungkook have an established fwb relationship. he has real feelings for her, he is not using her, but he also doesn’t know what it’s like to be in a relationship with someone thus why he acts out the way he does. yes, i understand this causes emotional strain for the reader because i have been there. and yes, jungkook is not the most considerate, and can be kind of selfish in this story. that was what i was trying to portray.

the point i was trying to make was that these two people love each other. not that this was an ideal relationship, or healthy for that matter. you do crazy things when you love someone that much, regardless of the other factors. this was a small portrayal of that kind of relationship. that is all i want to say before you read it, just so you understand what i meant when i wrote this.

when you love someone so deeply you start to realize the things you would for them that you wouldn’t even dream of doing for anyone else. when you care too much for someone they become a piece of your heart that breaks every single time something happens to threaten that connection with them. when you love so deeply, and care too much, your emotions get the best of you, and sometimes that doesn’t always turn out to be a good thing.

one thing everyone knew about you and jungkook was the immense love you felt for one another. it was strong and it was passionate, and it was a love that was so rare and genuine. that kind of love burned deep.

it was a mystery really. none of your friends knew why you and jungkook never made things official. your feelings for each other were so painfully obvious that it irritated everyone beyond belief when you both denied the significance you both held to one another.

jungkook wasn’t your boyfriend, and you weren’t his girlfriend. you were just a girl who he considered his best friend, who he slept with again and again, but never had the balls to make you his, and only his.

he had commitment issues. and you knew that.

that didn’t stop you from falling deeper and deeper in love with the boy, and though you knew he felt the exact same way, he still went out of his way to distract himself with other girls. he may not have slept with them but he surely did some, ungodly things with them. he flirted hard, and made them catch feelings for him. he lead them on, and broke their hearts. because every single time, he would always come back to you.

jungkook never denied his love for you. but he never confirmed it either. and though it was an unspoken understanding between you two, it just didn’t seem to be enough.

no matter how strongly you both felt for one another, there were still times where you both wanted to rip each other to absolute shreds.

you loved jungkook, and he loved you, but no one infuriated the both of you more than each other.

“he’s such a fucking dick,” you seethe as you push your way past the crowd of drunken people on your way to the kitchen.

“y/n, calm down, what’s the matter?” jennie called after you as she and rosé followed right behind you.

“i’m gonna kill this motherfucker,” you exclaim, downing the shot you grabbed from the countertop.

“who? are you talking about jungkook?” your best friend questioned.

“who else would fucking piss me off at a party that i’m supposed to be having fun at!” you throw your hands up in exasperation. “nobody fucking told me he was gonna be here.”

“taehyung brought him last minute, said jungkook had a change of plans.” rosé said, pouring a shot for herself.

“it’s because he found out y/n was coming to this party so he decided to show up hoping he would get his dick wet tonight.” jennie stated. “we all know how fucking crazy he is for her.”

“no, no he’s fucking not.” you shake your head. “he’s practically dry fucking sana on your couch right now, jen.”

to that comment, your best friends look outside the kitchen watching the way sana was grinding down onto jungkook.

she had been glued to his side since he walked into this party and you never even got the chance to talk to him. the only form of acknowledgement he gave you was a small smirk and a wink in your direction as you watched the way he gripped sana’s waist as she planted kisses onto his neck.

you felt your heart sink knowing very well jungkook had been with you the night before. cuddled up in your bed that he begged to stay the night in, whispering sweet nothings into your ear and telling you how much you meant to him. though you knew he wasn’t lying, he clearly had other things on his mind as well.

you hated him for making you feel this way.

jennie rolled her eyes and muttered a ‘disgusting fucker’ under her breathe, and rosé scowled in disgust before averting her eyes away from the scene.

“what the fuck?” she spoke. “y/n, why don’t you tell that ass to get his shit together. you guys have been a thing for like, fucking ever, you can’t let him do all that gross shit in front of you. it’s not right.”

you laughed bitterly, downing another shot as you felt the way it burned your throat. “he’s, he’s always been like that. he can’t do commitment. i have been friends with that douchebag for years, he’s the nicest guy you’ll ever meet till you bring up relationships around him and suddenly he doesn’t know how to fucking act. all i am to him is a good fuck and a friend to hang out with. he’s not my boyfriend i have no control over him.”

your heart hurts because you know no matter how much you want him in that way, he’ll never want the same thing.

“but it’s so fucking obvious that he’s in love with you!” jennie proclaimed. “this is the kid we’re talking about that always gets jealous when our guy friends are too close to you, the kid who picks you up after work and drives you home, and buys you coffee the next morning before your lectures. and he’s the kid who defends the shit out of you and takes care of you more than any of his other friends! he doesn’t do that shit for any other girl and that’s because he fucking loves you!”

“he may fucking love me but he doesn’t know how to show it.” you state, slamming your shot glass down onto the counter. “and you know what i fucking realized? i was so fucking stupid to think i would be the one he wanted a relationship with. i should’ve known better than to sleep with him and fall in love with him. we should’ve just stayed friends. i’m never gonna be able to get over how i feel for him but i am gonna have to accept the fact that he is the way he is and no one is gonna change that except for him. i’m done. i can’t, i can’t fucking do this anymore.” you remarked, leaving the kitchen in a rush.

your vision was slightly blurred and all you wanted to do was go upstairs and sleep your sorrows away.

fuck this party, and fuck jungkook you thought.

as you were making your way towards the staircase you bumped into a large figure as you looked up at the man. “oh, hey taehyung.” you greet with a nod.

“y/n! i was wondering where you were this whole time!” he chuckled as he pulled you into his arms. you returned the gesture, wrapping your much smaller arms around his body.

“i’ve just been, around,” you state. “um, i’m not feeling too well, i’m actually gonna go upstairs and lay down.”

“what, really?” your friend pouted. “you seem upset.” he observes.

“i’m.. okay. really. just need to lay down,” you nod.

“i’m gonna keep you company.” he states firmly.

“oh my god, no, you don’t have to!” you assure. “you’re the biggest part person i know taehyung, i don’t want you to miss out on the fun.” you chuckle.

“yeah, but you know what,” he begins. “i’ve been to enough of these it won’t hurt me to miss just one, and you’re my friend and i love you, and i’m not gonna let you sulk at this party alone. so i’m gonna go upstairs with you and you don’t have to tell me what’s wrong, but i’m not gonna leave you alone till i know you’re actually okay.”

taehyung’s kindness was both a blessing and a curse. though you would be just fine left alone, you still appreciated how much taehyung cared for you. so without much of a fight, you nod your head with a smile, grabbing onto his hand and leading him upstairs.

that did not go unnoticed by jungkook however as he pulled apart from sana for just a split second to see your hand intertwined with his best friend’s. his jaw hardened as he clenched his teeth, no longer interested in the petite girl he had in his arms.

what the fuck, he thought.

“so what’s the matter?” taehyung asks as he takes a seat next to you on the bed.

you shrug, but you can’t tell if he’s able to see you amidst the darkness in the room. “it’s stupid really.”

“and that’s how i know it’s about jungkook.” he chuckles.

“that obvious huh?” you breathe out.

“it’s just that i know the both of you really well, and i’ve been around the two of you for so many years that i understand the whole weird dynamic between you guys.” he explains. “i know you guys are in love with each other. everyone knows. but i also know you both never really had to confront those feelings till you started sleeping together. that whole thing just complicated everything.”

“you’re so observant.” you remark.

“it’s because i’ve been around the two of you the longest. it’s just something i came to notice when i spent all this time with you guys.” taehyung adds. “and i know you always doubt if he even loves you. he’s a dick, we all know that. but he does love you. so much. he just doesn’t know how to express it towards you other than sex.”

you let your head drop on taehyung’s shoulder. “i just want to be with him.” you whisper. “but i feel like he’s just using me at this point. he hurts my feelings too much, it doesn’t even seem worth it anymore.”

“you’ll only know if it’s worth it if you try talking to him.” taehyung answered.

a comfortable silence filled the atmosphere and you closed your eyes for just a second. that moment didn’t last too long however as you heard the door slam open.

the sudden crash of the door slamming onto the wall startled the both of you as you jumped apart. you watched as jungkook made his way inside the room before finding your arm easily and grabbing it.

“dude what the fuck!” you hiss as you tried to pull away from his grip.

“taehyung i fucking warned you not to touch her,” jungkook seethed.

“kook, we were just talking.” taehyung reassured his friend calmly.

“my fucking ass!” jungkook bit back harshly. “back the fuck off.”

you pulled your arm aggressively out of jungkook’s hold. “who the fuck are you to say that?” you fumed. “i was just fucking talking to him!”

“yeah, about what? huh?” jungkook pressed.

“it’s none of your business.” you scowl at him.

“because you were gonna fuck him weren’t you?” he hissed. “right? that’s what you two were gonna do behind my back?”

“oh my fucking god, you’re unbelievable!” you threw your hands in the air in disbelief. “no i wasn’t fucking him, jungkook, i’m not you.” you exclaim, and you notice his slight flinch at your comment. “and even if i was, you shouldn’t fucking care anyway, i’m not your problem to worry about!”

“what? are you serious right now?!” jungkook scoffs. “you are my fucking problem, you’re always my fucking problem!”

“kook, seriously you need to relax.” taehyung interjects, sensing the obvious tension in the room. he softly pushes jungkook back away from you which irritates the boy beyond belief. jungkook retaliates and shoves taehyung roughly away from him. “dude! calm the fuck down i didn’t do anything!” taehyung growls, shoving his best friend back in response.

“how many times did i fucking tell you to back the fuck off of her!“ jungkook snarls.

“and i did just that, jungkook! i wouldn’t fucking go behind your back like that!” taehyung defends.

jungkook pushes his elder once again, even harsher than the first time. “you’re a fucking piece of shit! you’re a shit friend taehyung! you know how i fucking feel about her and you’re gonna betray me like that you fucking asshole!”

that pisses off taehyung immensely as he grabs onto the younger’s boys shirt, shoving him roughly against the wall, the impact loud and clear as it echoes in the room. you stand there stunned, and all you can do is watch.

“listen to me you little shit,” taehyung hisses in jungkook’s face. “she’s my fucking friend. and i was talking to her. about you, for that matter. you’re the fucking shit friend here jungkook. you don’t fucking own y/n. she’s not your girlfriend. you don’t even act like you give a shit about her anyways. it’s only when she gets your dick wet that you seem to want her. but i fucking know you like her more than that. so either man the fuck up and tell her before you lose her, or leave her the fuck alone. i’m not trying to take her from you jungkook, but someone else will and you won’t ever get the chance to have her the way she deserves.” with one last shove against the wall, the older boy walks away from his friend.

taehyung walks over to you and places a hand on your shoulder. “fuck, i’m really sorry about that y/n.” he smiles sadly at you. “i should probably go downstairs. i’ll talk to you later okay?”

you nod your head. “i’m sorry too.” you murmur.

“are you gonna be okay up here?” he asks as he spares a glance at jungkook who’s still pressed up against the wall, catching his breath.

“yeah, i think i should talk to him.” you assure. “i’ll be okay.”

with one last nod he makes his way out the room, closing the door behind him. suddenly you’re hyper aware that it’s just you and jungkook in the room, and the tension thickens as the seconds pass.

you look over at the boy and your heart constricts in your chest. “are you okay?” you ask him, finally breaking the silence.

he sighs. “no.” he shakes his head. “taehyung’s right. i’m a fucking piece of shit.”

you walk over to jungkook, grabbing onto his hand and leading him towards the bed.

“we need to talk this shit out.” you state.

“well, i guess lets just state the obvious fact here, i’m a fucking asshole.” he acknowledges.

“yeah,” you say quietly. “you can be.”

you hear him let out a deep breath. “fuck, i screwed this up”

you hum in acknowledgement. “you mess a lot of things up.”

jungkook sighs.

“yeah i do.”

“you know i love you right?” you ask.

“yeah.”

“and you hurt me all the time. and i don’t know if you realize what you’re doing. because i want to think that, maybe, you know, you aren’t really aware of how much you affect me.” your throat burns as you talk. “and i know you just wanted sex at first. and i was willingly to give that to you. but i... i realized deep down i had feelings for you for so long so when you gave me the chance to be something with you, as more than friends, even if i wasn’t yours, i took it. but you never wanted the same things i did, yet i still let you hurt me over and over again because i love you that much.” your eyes blur and the moment you blink, you feel the tears run down your face. “i would do fucking everything for you. i put up with so much shit that i would never, ever let anyone else do to me. that’s how much i fucking loved you. even when i mean nothing to you.” you conclude, and you quickly wipe the tears off your face.

“that’s not fucking true, y/n.” jungkook exclaims, but his voice is quiet and on the verge of breaking. he swallows the lump in his throat before continuing. “you mean everything to me.”

you chuckle sadly. “you’re so back and forth, jungkook. i never know what you’re actually feeling. one minute you want all of me, telling me that you’d fucking die for me, and do everything for me, and the next thing i know you’re five seconds away from fucking another girl right in front of me when you know it fucking kills me inside.” your voice breaks and your practically sobbing. your heart feels crushed, and you feel defeated.

jungkook turns to you. “fuck, y/n, i’m so sorry.” he cries. “i don’t, fuck, i don’t know how to show my feelings properly. and that’s a shitty fucking excuse but i’ve never loved anyone before. never loved anyone before you. but you have to believe me when i say i do fucking love you. so fucking much it hurts me. i love you beyond words, y/n. but i don’t know how to be with you. i don’t know how to be with anyone and i don’t want you to suffer because of that. i don’t know if i’ll ever treat you properly, or be the kind of boyfriend that makes you happy. and you’ve been my best friend for as long as i can remember. i could never live with myself if we were together and i wasn’t able to treat you the way you deserve. but i don’t want you to ever think i don’t care about you when you are the person i care the most about in this world.”

“but you doing this hurts me just as much.” you whisper. “you make me feel like i’m not enough for you. that i’m not enough for you to want to be with just me. that you need other people to fulfill the things i can’t.”

“fuck no, no, no, that’s so fucking far from the truth.” jungkook shakes his head. “you’re enough. you’re always gonna be enough for me. i’m just a fucking coward. i couldn’t face how i really felt for you, and i got scared to be with you. i’ve never had the chance to be with just one person. and i know i wouldn’t be unfaithful to you, i just don’t know if i can be the guy you’d want to be with for the rest of your life. i can’t disappointment you like that, y/n. i care too much about you to let you down.”

“but i do know what i want, jungkook.” you answered. “i’ve always wanted you. but i can’t be with you if you can’t change. i want you so bad, and i love you so fucking much but i need to know if you’re willing to try for us because if you aren’t then i’m wasting my time loving you.”

jungkook lets out a deep breath.

you speak once more. “if you want this you have to tell me or i’m walking out this door and i’m done for good. i can’t wait my whole fucking life to realize what you want. i deserve better than that jungkook. and if you don’t want to try then that’s fine, but you can’t lead me on like this. i can’t keep doing it anymore, it’s tiring and it hurts me so fucking badly. so tell me what you want or let me go.”

no words are said for the next few minutes, all that fills the tense atmosphere on the room is your heavy breathing and jungkook’s sniffling.

you’re patient with him. you let him think of what he wants. you don’t force it, and you don’t rush it.

you know you’re either gonna leave this room with a broken heart, or a heart that can learn to heal properly with jungkook by your side.

and after what feels like an eternity, he speaks up.

“i might not be any good at this. and i don’t fucking know if i’m any good for you, but, i want to try.” he says. “i’ll do everything to change. i promise. i’ll try so fucking hard to do things properly.”

you look at him. “you don’t have to know right away jungkook. i’m not asking much from you. i’m not expecting you to be the perfect boyfriend for me.” you murmur. “i’m just asking that we try. we figure things out together. if you love me, and i love you then we’ll figure it out. i just want to know if you actually want this. i just want you to be sure.”

“i am sure.” he reassures you. “i want this so fucking badly, and i know i was so shit at showing you that i love you but i can’t lose you. i want to be with you and i’ll fucking do whatever i have to to make sure you know that. i want to change, y/n. and i will. if it means i’ll have you always then nothing else fucking matters to me.“

jungkook gently pulls your face closer to his, pressing his lips firmly onto yours. his right thumb is rubbing small circles on your cheek, and the other hand is placed onto your neck as he pulls you further into him. you sigh in the kiss, relaxing into his hold as you bask in the feeling of his warm lips against your own. he pulls away slightly before muttering an “i love you.” and you return it just as quick.

the worries you both had suddenly vanished, and the two of you felt an utter sense of relief, a huge weight lifted off both your shoulders.

jungkook was less than perfect, but he had the most redeeming qualities that made you love him beyond words. one thing you loved the most about jungkook was that when he promised to do something, he kept it, especially if it was you he made that promise to.

it was difficult for him at first, to learn how to be with just one person. he wasn’t use to the sudden attention, and the sudden desire to want to be around you all the time. to be truthful it scared him a lot to show his sole dependency on you, and it scared him even more to acknowledge how truly strong his feelings for you were. but he realized just how important you were in his life and that this feeling he was experiencing was quite possibly the best thing that could’ve happened to him.

there was still a lot of learning both you and jungkook had to do. but being with one another helped your love evolve even stronger than ever.

that was the rare kind of love. a love that stems so suddenly, but rooted deep within the both of you before either one of you could realize it. it was a powerful love that no one else could break between you two. and it was the kind of life that burned so deep, nothing in this world would get in the way of that.

[maylovexhs]

everytime - GOODNIGHT AND GO(Chp. 18)

Author’s Note: I sent out a message a few days ago if I should continue this story. No one responded so I’m giving y’all a few more day, or at least before I post all of the remaining chapters I wrote so far. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this one! - May

everytime masterlist

July 22, 2019.

“I need water” I said. “That high note killed me”

I looked to the side of the stage, catching Ashton looking at me. He looked down and smiled to himself.

Tomorrow was my last day in New York before going on tour. Today was my last day I would probably have with Ashton. I liked Ashton. I did. I just felt at home with him, unlike all my other exes. I knew I couldn’t date Ashton. Billie would kill me immediately. But I was willing to spend time with him. As a friend, at least.

I got off the stage and walked over to him.

“Hey” I said to him.

“Hi” Ashton said to me, having a crinkle on his cheeks.

“Umm, do you want to get dinner or do something tomorrow?” I asked him. “You know, since it’s the last day before going to London and you’re not coming along, I just thought maybe-“

“I would love to” Ashton answered, cutting me off. “Just the two of us or . . .”

Ashton looked to my band.

My band. Oh, right.

“It’s up to you” I said to Ashton. “I’m stuck with them for the next three months. A day couldn’t make a difference”

“I’m all for having them” Ashton said. “Depends on what we are doing though. I’m good for dinner tonight”

“Dinner” I said. “I’ll go invite the others out”

I smiled to myself as I walked over to my band. I approached Billie first, hoping to get the worst part over with first.

“So, what do you you think about dinner?” I asked her.

“Dinner?” She asked me, surprised. “Where? With who?”

“Anywhere” I told her. “I’m up for anything. And it’s with the band . . . and Ashton”

Billie looked to Ashton, squinting her eyes at him. She looked back to me.

“What are you up to?” Billie asked.

“Nothing” I said. “It’s our last night in New York before tour and Ashton helped a lot with practice so why not invite him?”

“You’re only inviting him for that?” Billie asked. “Nothing else? There better be-“

“There’s nothing else” I said, cutting her off.

Billie remained skeptical of me.

“Trust me, Billie” I said. “The last thing I want is another relationship right now, especially after Adam”

“Fine” Billie gave in. “But I’m watching you”

I nodded.

“So,” Billie said. “What time is this thing?”

Later. . .

“I swear I almost lost my shit when I saw Beyoncé” Adrian said with his half empty glass in his hand.

Everyone at the table laughed.

“I kept telling Rosè to pinch me throughout the night” Adrain said. “And this bitch over here”

Adrian gestured towards me.

“She kept telling me to calm down” Adrain said. “This bitch has no idea what I was going through"

I smiled to myself. I looked to Ashton across the table.

He was staring at me.

I smirked at him. He returned the gesture, smirking back at me. I looked to Adrian.

“Excuse me” I said, defending myself. “It’s Beyoncé. I’m always nervous when I see her”

“No, I was having a full on panic attack when I met her” Adrian said. “I didn’t see you even flinch”

I crossed my arms at him.

I didn’t intend on inviting Adrian. Neither did I intend to invite Rosé, Camila or half of the tour crew but one thing led to another and now we occupied the whole restaurant. I didn’t mind everyone. I actually thought it was better to have more people so Billie would think less about Ashton and me. I was thinking of him.

“This reminds me, I wanted to make a toast” Adrian said. “To Y/N and I, and our stage outfits”

I raised my drink to him.

“And to you” I told him. “You’re a genius”

Adrain drank to that. I looked at my band.

“Also, I would like to make a toast for my band and crew” I said. “We’re a team. A family. And I couldn’t ask for a better one to spend the next year with touring”

“L’Chaim” Chris cheered.

I sipped the wine in my glass.

I looked to Ashton once more. He smiled at me.

“So. . .” I heard Camila say. “I take it you’re over Adam?”

I looked beside me to talk to Camila.

“I take it you’re gonna give me love advice now?” I asked her.

Camila nodded, smiling to herself.

“You should go out with him” She said, leaning into me. “He has been looking at you all night. Maybe he wants to go out with you too”

I shook my head.

“It’s too late” I told her. “We leave tomorrow, remember?”

“Exactly” Camila said. “Time is ticking. You need to make a move before someone else steals him”

“Camila, I don’t need another relationship” I told her. “Especially a new one when I’ll be on the other side of the country”

Camila shook her head.

“Usually I would believe anything you say but . . .” Camila spoke while looking to Billie. “The way Billie acts every time she sees you with him says something else”

I rolled my eyes at Camila.

“You’re insane” I said to her. “And Billie always acts that way”

“More protective and harsh than usual?” Camila asked.

I didn’t answer.

“All I’m saying is if you want to be with him,” Camila said. “It’s better to say it sooner than later. Who knows what can happen when you’re on tour?”

I sat back in my seat. I crossed my arms.

It was too late. I did like Ashton, more than I should but I couldn’t do nothing about it. I was about to leave tomorrow and never see Ashton again for months. Even if I did go for it, I doubt I could have a steady relationship with him being across the world. How the hell would I pull that off?

I looked to Billie at the end of the table.

And Billie - my friend and my guitarist. If I did choose to be with Ashton, worst case scenario would be Billie dropping out of the band in the middle of tour. I couldn’t let that happen. It would take time I don’t have to get a new guitarist. Not only that but Billie was my friend. I couldn’t betray a friend like that.

I looked back to Ashton. I found him laughing at Adrain.

Most of all, maybe Ashton didn’t want to be with me. Maybe he didn’t want to be that apart of my world. A world where everything you do is looked about under a microscope. A world where the truth can easily be twisted into something else. As much as it was my world, sometimes I didn’t want to be apart of it. I wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t either. Adam didn’t.

Ashton looked to me. I looked down.

It was too late. And if it wasn’t too late, it would be wrong for too many reasons. We weren’t meant to be together now. Maybe in another life, we would be together. Or even in a few years. But not now. I couldn’t afford now.

Later . . .

“I’m gonna miss you” Sophia said, hugging me.

“Me too” I told her. “But I’ll see you soon. I’ll fly you out once I get the chance”

Sophia let go of me.

“Sounds like a plan” Sophia said.

She looked behind me. I turned to see Ashton talking with Rosé a few feet away from me. I looked back to Sophia.

“Do you like him?” I asked her.

“A little” She answered. “Don’t have a feeling he likes me though”

A part of me felt happy at that. I shouldn’t.

“Well, I have no idea if he’s with anyone” I told her. “So, I’m not much help.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it” She said. “I’m not going to spend my energy on people who don’t  show interest”

Neither should I.

“I should get going” Sophia said. “I’ll call you tomorrow”

I nodded. I watched her leave. I turned around to see Rosé and Ashton hugging goodbye. I waited for Rosé to leave him.

“I’ll see you on the plane” I said to Rosé.

“Please don’t dye your hair last second on an impulse” She warned me.

I smiled at her.

“I’m not 26 anymore” I said.

“Don’t do it” Rosé said. “I’ll call you when I leave my apartment”

Rosé walked away from me. I felt Ashton’s presence beside me.

“What color did you dye your hair at 26?” Ashton asked me.

I looked to him.

“Purple” I answered him. “And it was mid hair. Not that big of a deal”

He smiled, looking down. There was a small moment of silence.

“I liked-“

“Do you-“ I stopped talking, noticing Ashton talked at the same time.

“You first” We both said.

We both let out a nervous laugh.

“Umm. . .” I said.

I was acting like a teenager. I was thirty. I shouldn’t be acting like this.

“It was fun playing with you” Ashton said. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone kind and funny as you”

I blushed a little from his words.

“The pleasure is all mine” I said. “I’m really happy I met you. I doubt I could find another person to cry with and play together”

Ashton smiled. There was another moment of silence.

“I guess you have to go?” I asked him. “Don’t need to keep your roommate waiting for you”

Ashton looked at me. A faint smirk grew on his lips. There was familiar look in his eyes. I wondered if he wanted to remember this last moment of ours.

“Yeah” Ashton nodded. “I do”

“Hopefully I’ll see you soon” I said to him.

“I hope so too” He said with a slight pain in his voice. “Goodnight, Y/N”

“Goodnight, Ashton” I said to him.

Ashton slowly walked away from me. I felt my heart throb with each step he took.

He never met anyone as kind and funny as me. Never until me.

I watched him walk down the block.

What was I doing? I was going to let him slip from my hands just like that? I was going to leave him just like that? I was going to give up on something that could be more? Fuck it. I couldn’t.

I ran after him.

“Ashton!” I called out his name.

Ashton turned around to me.

“Huh?”

I ran up to him, standing up on my tippy toes and kissing him on the cheek. I took a step back.

Ashton looked at me. He blushed, lips proudly smirking.

“Do you want to do something tomorrow?” I asked him. “You and me alone? I have until four tomorrow. I know it’s not much time but . . . I feel like it’s right to spend my last day with you”

Ashton nodded.

“I couldn’t think of another way to spend a day” He said.

I let out a breath, relieved.

“Goodnight, Y/N” He said. “Until tomorrow”

“Until tomorrow”

[tirednotflirting]

sleepyhead - c.h.

right now i’m a few glasses of wine in and i’ve finally got the guts to post fic for the first time ever so here is a lil blurb thing i wrote in between studying for different finals last week when thinking of soft morning cal was distracting me from primate anatomy.

word count: ~1.9k

she woke up to the smell of cigarette smoke tickling at her nose. after a second breath, she caught a whiff of fresh coffee and rain on the brick walls of her building. knowing he must be out on the covered balcony, she listened closely for the sound of rain, wondering if it had stopped yet, and also picked up his quiet humming of a song she couldn’t quite figure out. a slight breeze blew into the room, causing her to pull the thick comforter up from where it rested at her waist and let her eyes finally flutter open as thoughts of sleeping later drifted off.

the room was dark for 9am, she observed after rolling over to grab her phone and seeing the time. her weather app told her that the storm was to continue well into the evening so if his plans for the day had included anything outside, they would likely need to be put on hold. she lifted her body from the mattress and finally caught sight of him out on the patio, the half-opened door giving her a view of him sipping from his favorite mug with the same hand that held his cigarette as he wrote something in a journal resting against the small glass table she had bought during the summer.

“your balcony has a nice view,” he had said one afternoon in june, soon after they had become friends who actively sought out each other’s company rather than waiting for the next time the world brought them together through mutual friends. “you should get a table out here when you’re more settled, would be a great morning coffee with a book spot.” she bought the table after he mentioned it a second time.

she thought of their initial meeting one another earlier in the year as she glanced up to check on him every couple of minutes as she went through her school inbox on her phone.

it was a grad party back in may for lianna, a friend a couple years her senior. it was out on some trendy rooftop place downtown her parents had rented out. lianna was the kind of girl who knew every kind of person, including the girlfriend of a drummer called ashton irwin. the couple had come along and brought with them ashton’s bandmate, calum. they blended in well with the ucla media studies crowd in their dress and overall low key attitude to the lights and sparkles and fruity drinks that came with downtown la in late spring.

she was a photography major and had met lianna when she got approval to take a senior level course that spring, despite only being a sophomore. she got on well with everyone at the party, all of them being her (now former) classmates and her face was growing achy with how much she was smiling as everyone told her their postgrad plans. she had been taking a social break and was standing at the bar, trying to flag down the bartender, her short stature failing her at that moment. she felt a presence to her left as she huffed in frustration, along with a deep “need some help?”. she turned and saw a man that she remembered recognizing when she had seen him walk in with a gorgeous couple earlier in the night. he was in a band, plays bass, lianna had told her over the tops of their wine glasses. he’s australian, and has a very cute dog, had also been added by the tall red-haired girl.

“yeah, thanks. guess he can’t hear me,” she replied, a tired smile returning to her face. a similar one spread across the curly-haired boy’s lips. “what are you drinking?” he asked, looking down to her as his hand lifted to grab the attention of the bartender, who immediately noticed the man. she took a moment before answering to admire the tattoos that she could see dancing across his forearm as his rolled sleeve pushed up to his elbow.

“the rosé.”

he lifted his chin in a short nod and recited the order as well as his own to the bartender. she pulled herself up into one of the stools at the bar to give her heeled feet a rest and to reduce at least a little bit of the difference in height between herself and the man.

“i’m calum,” he introduced himself, reaching a tattooed hand out into the somewhat limited space between the two of them.

“bennie,” she smiled lazily, her smaller hand accepting his as a glass of pink wine is placed beside her.

she set her phone back to charge and finally pushes back the covers. she reaches to the floor at the end of her bed to pick up a cardigan to throw on over the t-shirt she stole from him to wear when he got in the night before. he would always tease her for taking one of his ratty band t-shirts every time he ended up at her place after the airport rather than his own but never enough for her to toss it back in his duffle.

california in winter could just barely be called that, but the storm was bringing through something they would all call a cold front. he looks up from his writing as he hears her bare feet padding closer to the open door and gently shuts the leather journal, his pen marking his place.

he takes another drag of the cigarette, turning towards the street to blow away the smoke. “lovely weather we’re having today, huh?”

she scoffs at his sarcasm as she pulls out the seat across from him. “la is so happy to have you home that the whole city is crying tears of joy.” 

“hush, ben.” he rolls his eyes but smirks nonetheless at her words.

he takes a moment to admire the girl that’s come to be one his best friends as she reaches forward to pour coffee from the French press he had made into a second mug. sleep had pulled most of her hair from the braid she had done up when they were eating pasta in the kitchen the night before. her eyes were dark around the edges due to the college-student style of exhaustion she always seemed to be and the eyeliner she had claimed she didn’t really need to wash away before bed. seeing her in his clothes made him feel warm in a way he didn’t really understand but always pushed away the thought of.

“ah, you’re right.” she says after a sighing as she takes her first sip from her mug. “she’s actually crying because you’re leaving again in a few days.”

the smile on his face drops as he reaches a foot out to tap against her leg. “hey now, yes i’ll be leaving but then you’re down for that party in the city for new years, right?”

she’s already down to the bottom of her mug (the French press was doing a shit job at retaining any heat and she was going to need to just go back into the kitchen and make more). “if you’ll still have me, yeah. which i hope you will because i’ve definitely already bought the flight.”

“bennie, you were supposed to let me get that.” he says to her with furrowed brows, a small pout forming.

she stands and holds a hand out for his mug so she can go in and make a second cup for the both of them. “okay, well you already got me a room and since your label are the ones hosting the party, you’re basically paying for all my drinks too. so i-“

“it was gonna be your Christmas present, love.” he sighs, handing his mug over.

“the room can be the prese-“

“bennie,” he cuts her off and places a hand at her hip to stop her as she tries to scoot around him to get back inside for coffee and to get away from the conversation. she looks down at where his chipped black polished fingers are placed. “just wanna be able to do something nice for you. i know you worked your ass off this semester and that you’re avoiding the fam for the holiday so i just wanted to treat you.”

she studies the mugs in her hands to avoid his gaze. calum turns his chair to face her so he can wrap both arms around her waist. she huffs and sets the mugs down on the table, letting her hands fall to his shoulders as she looks down to his patient brown eyes.

she takes a deep breath as she moves one hand to the back of his neck, her fingers twirling around the curls there. “and i appreciate it. and i’ve been feeling all warm and fuzzy ever since you asked me to join for this. i think i just convinced myself that letting you do too much for me would make it seem like i was taking advantage. don’t ever want you to feel that way about me.”

his bottom lip juts out further after hearing her think that he could ever even for a moment have some kind of ill opinion of her. “wouldn’t dream of thinking that, darling. i invited you to a party clear across the country, just wanted to make sure you were taken care of.”

she feels something flutter inside her when he calls her by pet names and talks about taking care of her but she pushes the thought away. “we should talk more when planning, huh?”

he laughs and shakes his head at her as he opens his legs so she can stand between them as he pulls her closer, his arms moving to wrap more fully around her waist. he lets his head fall against her stomach. “i’m still exhausted.”

she runs a hand through his hair. “it’s called jet lag, ace. go get back in bed. let’s finish the season of peaky blinders we fell asleep in the middle of last night and then we can go pick up duke.” 

he hummed his agreement with the plan for the rest of the morning before turning his head to place a kiss to the inside of bennie’s wrist. as she wanders past him, mugs and french press gathered into her arms, he puts out the last of his cigarette in the ashtray he brought over after she yelled at him for using one of her favorite mugs for the purpose. she’s already back in the kitchen, filling the kettle before setting it back on the stove and digging through her cabinets for the dark roast she’s decided she wants to make for her second cup of the day.

she comes back to her room several minutes later with two steamy mugs to find calum asleep again, her pillow tucked against his chest. she could almost coo at him cuddled under the blanket, chapped lips pouted out as he softly snores. she chuckles quietly to herself as she sets the mugs on her desk before gently climbing back into bed and pulling the pillow away from his arms. it’s only now that she notices the door is still open, the rain still falling at a steady pace and the breeze sneaking its way across the room. as she lays her head against the pillow that now smells of whatever new cologne he picked up on the road, an arm reaches over her body, pulling her against his warm chest. 

“thanks, love,” are the last words she hears before letting her tired eyes drift shut.

~~~~~

thnx for reading if you did and come say hello (i like new pals) and lemme know if i should ever give this kinda thing a shot again. happy saturday !

[raysofcrosby]

EASE MY MIND

𝘨𝘪𝘧 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘵 (𝘹)

𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥: yes | no

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨(𝘴): nada thing, just slight angst.

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 5,178

𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤: ease my mind by ben platt

𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦: tbh when i got this request, i deadass wrote the entire outline down in my phone notes and that’s where it’s been sitting since anon requested this. i’m really bad at titles so tbh the title might not make sense, but i had the song on repeat the entire time so yeah–– peep his album it’s highkey amazing!!! anyway, so sorry it’s a little late, i’ve just been lazy while simultaneously cleaning our house for this weekend!! :-) enjoy and request!

He knew he needed to be here. He fucking knew it and yet there you were, sitting with your parents at the dining table of their summer home…without him. You should’ve just ordered another uber and went back home instead of knocking on their front door. Cancelling altogether would have been a lot better than showing up alone. 

God, he knew how important this was. Important to you, important to your parents, he even said that it was super important to him. Hell, meeting each other’s parents for the first time in person since you two started dating last year was a huge relationship milestone. You vividly remember meeting his parents and his siblings a few months prior during the Flames playoff run. You swore that they could probably see you shaking from how nervous you were– but the way they took you in was nothing short of marvelous.

Maybe that’s it. Maybe he’s late because he’s nervous about meeting your parents for the first time that wasn’t a short facetime call.

As soon as the excuse entered your mind, it faded away. No, that wasn’t the reason. You could still hear the laughter in his voice at how you were freaking out about him meeting your dad for the first time. “Babe, relax. He’s a huge Flames fan, there’s no way he can totally hate me. He loves me too much.” And that may be true, your parents may be huge Flames fans since they raised you and your sister only minutes away from Scotiabank Saddledome and there were photo albums full of hundreds of pictures of your family of four sporting Flames jerseys and attire throughout the years. But if there’s one thing that your dad has never been a fan of, it’s a boy who could upset his daughters– who were his entire world.

And that was the first fear that entered your mind when Noah hadn’t come back to the apartment before 4:30 like he said he would. As if the ticking clock on the wall making every second that he was late known, was the first omen towards how your dad would feel about Noah. You called and called, but you never got an answer. Until one call later when he sent you a text saying that he’d meet you at your parents' house and to go ahead without him. It was hard not trying to let your annoyance get the best of you, especially since you had made these plans two weeks ago and solidified the times, just four days ago on Monday. So you just sent him a simple response and took your time getting ready.

It was easy to sway the conversation away from Noah’s absence when you first got there. After their warm greetings, your mom was the first one to ask where your ‘extremely handsome’ boyfriend was. There were three people who could read you extremely well. Your mom, Noah, and your sister– in that exact order. So you had to think quick and paint on the best confident smile as you told her that he got held up with some of the boys who’d come back up to Calgary for a short visit. Your dad was wrapped up in the Blue Jays game on the TV to notice that Noah hadn’t walked into the house with you– which was a blessing.

The social time flew by thanks to the baseball game and the glasses of wine your mom kept refilling, but that meant that it was dinner time, and Noah was still nowhere to be found. You blamed your constant need for a refill on stress from work and your boss being a total douchebag, but that wasn’t true. You needed the refills to hide your embarrassment from when your dad sat down at the table, looked at you and asked where the ‘stud defenseman’ of a boyfriend you always talked about, was. When you gave your excuse again, saying that some of the boys were in town and he got caught up, you held back all of the hurt that wanted to wash over your face when you spoke the words.

Under the table, you had your phone unlocked and your messages with Noah opened.

You: Where are you??

You: Noah, you said you’d meet me here. Where are you?

You: I swear to God if Matt, Sean or Elias got you blackout drunk and they’re the reason why you’re not here….

You: Well, I don’t know what I’d do, but just get here, please. This is starting to get embarrassing.

You: Noah….

Each message sent, had gone unanswered and unseen. Maybe it was the rosé talking, but that little ‘delivered’ underneath your chain of text messages throughout dinner, just seemed to be taunting you. You left your parents house scared that Noah’s potential good relationship with your parents had just gone down the drain to live with that stupid creepy clown from that movie he’d talked about wanting to see this fall. Your dad didn’t say a word after dinner, giving you a hug and a kiss as your uber waited out front for you. Your mom, however, walked you out the front door and to the car. You apologized profusely, swearing up and down that Noah was a good guy and that something important must have come up because he wanted to be here.

Your mother, being the true saint that she is, just smiled and hugged you tight, affirming your statements, even though she hadn’t gotten the chance to see if they were true or not. She kissed you on the head, said that she’d see you tomorrow for your birthday brunch and gently pushed you into the back of your uber, waving you off as it drove away. As the car pulled away from your parents’ summer house, you pulled your phone out of your purse and re-read your ignored text messages to Noah. At this point, the rosé had taken full effect and probably should put your phone back into the purse– but the anger and the hurt were taking over any logical thought your brain had. And all you could think as you pressed ‘call’ was that this could either be a good thing…or a bad thing.

As expected, though you wishing it weren’t the case, your call went unanswered and the light treble of his voice practically moved you to drunken tears as his voicemail echoed through your phone. When it beeped, you took a breath, pausing and wondering if you should leave a voicemail or not. That thought didn’t linger on long before you let out a sigh. “Noah…” You’d knew he’d be able to hear the quiver in your voice when he listened to this, so you took another deep breath and calmed yourself.

“I hope it was worth it, whatever the hell you were doing tonight. You promised me that you would be there tonight and you never showed. I looked stupid, tonight Noah. Like booboo the fucking fool, sitting there with my parents and making excuses for you. Not only did the stunt you pulled tonight embarrass me, but it really hurt me,” this time, there was no hiding the quiver in your voice. “It really, really hurt me that you didn’t even have the balls to text me saying ‘hey, I won’t be able to make it.’ That would have been a lot better than you ghosting me tonight, all together.”

As you looked out the window, noticing that the car was nearing your apartment complex, you sniffled lightly and shook your head. “This was a big step tonight Noah, you knew it, I knew it. So maybe you’re just not as serious about us as you said you were since you never bothered to show up and meet my parents. It’s whatever I guess we’re–“

The phone hung up, signaling that your timed voicemail had come to an end. And maybe that was for the best because there was still so much you wanted to say to him, scream at him, and being drunk on rosé and saying it over voicemail…probably wasn’t the best way to say it all. The uber came up to a stop and you opened your door. “Thank you.”

“Miss,” the Uber driver said, gaining your attention. He handed you a few tissues and gave a small nod as you reached for them. “Whoever he is, kick him in the balls the next time you see him.”

It was exactly the laugh that you needed and you gave him a small smile as you held up the tissues as a silent thank you. “Goodnight.”

Closing the door, the Uber driver waited for you to get to the entrance to your apartment complex and inside, safely before driving off. You brought the tissues to your face, wiping beneath your eyes and pulling them away to see your evidence of your mascara stained against them. You groaned as you got into the elevator and rode up to your floor, sniffling as you prepared yourself for what was to happen if Noah was inside your apartment. Would you argue? Would he be drunk? How serious would this fight be? As you stumbled down the hall and to your front door, you tried your best to calm yourself down before unlocking the door and walking in…to an empty apartment.

Part of you was happy that you had beaten him home, but the other part was even more upset because he was still out somewhere doing something that wasn’t what he promised he’d to. You closed and locked the door behind you, making your way towards the kitchen and tossing your belongings onto the counter. Grabbing yourself bottled water from the fridge, you started to strip out of your evening clothes as you made your way down the hall to the bedroom.

Stupid heels. You kicked them off by the couch. They were so cute, one of your favorite pairs– but man they hurt like a bitch and right now, that pain wasn’t worth wearing them for another second.

Stupid $200 dress. You struggled to get out of the figure-fitting dress that he had bought you for Valentine's day. It was his first purchase for you that he didn’t need advice on. He’d simply saw it in the store, knew it’d be perfect and he was right– he loved it on you. You wore it tonight because he loved it on you, and yet he didn’t get to see it. 

You’d stripped it all off, the accessories, your bra, and underwear– everything, so by the time you got to your bedroom, you tossed on your shorts and his flames t-shirt and was ready for bed. As you stood in the doorway and saw the trail you left behind, a little bit of you felt victorious, but for what, you didn’t know. So with that, you closed the door and locked it, not wanting him to sleep in the room tonight. A bit much? Yes. Petty? Extremely. But at this point, you were far too upset to truly care. You thought that burying yourself beneath the warm comforter and lying on your bed would be enough to lull you to sleep, but it hadn’t. After staring at the ceilings for a few moments, you could hear Noah open the front door and stumble his way into the apartment, shuffling around before closing the door behind him.

He was drunk, that was a fact. You knew that maybe he did go out and have a few drinks with the boys, but you didn’t want to be right. You didn’t want to know that the reason why he skipped out on dinner with your parents was that he was too busy getting drunk with the same teammates that he’d gone out with on many weekends before throughout the season. His footsteps shuffle closer to the door and the knob turns. Your heart thuds against your chest and you contemplate jumping out of bed and opening the door, but your body won’t move. One knock, two knocks, then three– all going unanswered like the texts you had sent him hours before.

“Y/N?” His voice is soft and a little slurred as if he had his face pressed directly against the door. “Y/N, are you in there?”

You held your breath as if he’d actually be able to hear you breathe, or maybe it was because you were afraid that if you did, you’d let out a sob instead. You waited for him to say something else, or to try the knob or knock again– but nothing came. Instead, you heard his footsteps shuffled back out away from the door. As soon as they were far enough away, you let out a shuddered breath and the small sob that followed. You rolled over towards his side of the bed and stared at his pillow. It was so dark in the room that you could almost see the outline of his broad shoulders and body as if he was lying there like he had been just this morning.

You reached out and felt the cold space against your hand, the fabric of your sheets slipping between the spaces in your fingers. Staring at the empty space and knowing that he was just a few feet away from you in the living room, hurt like hell. Did he know what he did? Has he heard your voicemail? Why didn’t he try a little harder just now to get you to open the door? Was he even that serious about your relationship? As the ugly thoughts spun themselves around in your mind, you couldn’t help but hear the words of your sister echo around your brain. How she said you should be careful about getting into a relationship with him since he was a professional athlete and they tend to have reputations. But, it’s been a year and your doubts about dating him have been few and far in between. In fact, you were set to go to Boston with him in a few weeks to spend the rest of the month with his family. You could see the childlike smile on his face when you told him you’d gotten your vacation time approved for the trip to his home– it was right after you’d set the date for this damn dinner. He’d spun you around and kissed you, before putting you back onto the ground and whispering about how this was your ‘first big step’ as a couple.

But at this point, all you could really think about was one thing: was your sister right?

The next morning, you hadn’t set an alarm to wake you up– not that you needed one seeing as if you’d barely slept a wink. When you got up out of bed and made your way to the living room, you expected to see Noah sleeping on the couch, but instead, you found a folded blanket resting on the back and no Noah in sight. It’s not like you wanted to have a potential argument with your boyfriend in the morning, let alone the morning of your birthday, but you were still disappointed to find that he wasn’t even here. You turned towards the kitchen to pour yourself a cup of coffee and see a note.

Walking over to the counter, you picked it up and immediately recognized the handwriting as Noah’s. Three sentences. Three measly sentences are what you got– basically saying that he’d see you later, he had some errands to run and that he’d be back for dinner. That was it. No Birthday wish, no acknowledgment of the brunch you were supposed to have at your sister’s house today– nothing. So you crumbled it up and tossed it into the trashcan, more upset than you were I the beginning as you were starting to think that maybe, just maybe, Noah had forgotten your birthday. No flowers, no balloons, not even a damn card. Just a note with three sentences and no Noah. God, that really hurt.

Upset, you disregarded your need for coffee and made your way back to the bedroom, throwing yourself back down onto your cloud of a comforter and groaning into your pillow. The only reason why you bothered to come up for air was that your cell-phone started to ring. Not looking, you reached out for it and answered it, bringing it to your ear. “Hello?”

“Wow, who pissed in your cereal this morning?” Jess, your older sister laughed as your niece and nephew’s voices rang in the background.

“Good morning to you too Jess, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Just a friendly reminder that you and Noah are supposed to come over so we can have that birthday brunch with mom and dad.”

You could feel the urge to tell her about Noah begin to rise in your stomach. Your sister was like your personal diary, she knew everything and anything about you. “Noah skipped out on dinner last night so I think mom and dad might hate him. What makes it worse is that he came home drunk last night and never replied to any of my text messages and maybe you were right– I shouldn’t have started dating him.” It all came out in one blurred moment and when the silence greeted you, you sighed. “I think he and I are going to have a long, not so good, talk.”

Silence you expected, especially since you had just unloaded everything on your sister. But the thing you didn’t expect was her laughter from the other side of the phone. “Stop being dramatic and just get your butt over here by 11. Mom’s making her mimosas, you’ve got 30 minutes to get here,” and then she hung up. You pulled the phone away from your face and stared at it, confused by her reaction since she was the one who had voice those concerns first. But suddenly when you speak about them, you’re being dramatic?

Nonetheless, you rolled yourself out of bed and into your bathroom to take a shower and get ready for this brunch. You didn’t know if Noah was going to be there or not, if you could guess– you’d say not. But there’s nothing you could do about it now…the ball is in his court.

No text. No call. No email. Not a single thing from Noah– not even the daily snapchat to keep your 500-someday streak alive. You’d contemplated calling him in the uber or even sending him a text, but the voice in the back of your mind said that perhaps having another potential crying fit in the back of an uber wasn’t the best option right now. So, to take your mind off of the drama ahead of you, you turned your mind towards your moms' award-winning mimosas that were waiting for you at your sisters' place.

However, thinking about them could only last for so long before Noah’s absence slipped back into your mind. And standing there on your sister’s front porch, staring at her front door and contemplating whether or not to order an uber and go back home– you called Noah. As it rang, you could feel the disappointment settle over you…until it stopped ringing. “Hello?”

“Hey, Noah?” It was loud wherever he was and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was out with the boys again. “Noah, can you hear me?”

The noise drifted out as the silence settled in on his side of the phone. “Hey beautiful, you still there?”

Your heart raced at the sound of his voice. “Yeah, I’m here.”

“Sorry about the noise,” he sighed and you could hear his shifting along wherever he was. “What do you want? Is everything okay?”

You paused, your eyes frozen on the front door as his questions lingered in your mind. He hasn’t talked to you in the last 12 hours and all he can bring himself to say is– ‘what do you want?’ You could feel the anger boil up, and as good as you were about masking your emotions and holding back, you just couldn’t do it anymore. “What do I want? What do I want Noah?” You echoed, pacing along your sisters' porch. “Oh hold on, let’s see here. I wanted you to come to dinner with my parents last night. I wanted you to be able to bond with my dad over hockey and your mutual dislike for Edmonton. Or see my mom fawn over how much of a gentleman you are.”

Your pacing was picking up as you felt your body slowly start to shake. It took everything in you to press the phone further against your ear to hold it steady. “I wanted to fall asleep in your arms last night and wake up to you this morning. I wanted a Good Morning birthday kiss from my boyfriend. I just wanted you, Noah. Are you catching my fucking drift?”

A deafening silence came over the phone call before he laughs, and you immediately recognize it as the kind of laughter he does when he throws his head back and closes his eyes. “Babe, you’re overreacting.”

“Over¬–“ You paused, in utter disbelief that you had just vented your heart out to him and he said that you were overreacting. “Overreacting? Oh, Noah Hanifin, you haven’t seen overreacting. If you come home tonight, you’ll definitely see me overreacting.” Then you hang up your phone and slam your palm against the doorbell.

You stood there in front of her door, your arms crossed and focused on your breathing as you waited for your sister to answer her door. You needed to calm yourself down before you walked into the house or else you’d be an open book to your parents and your sister– a heads up that something is immediately wrong. When she finally answers her door, she has a big smile on your face and your 3-year-old nephew, Max on her hip. “Happy birthday my favorite sister ever,” she smiled, stepping out and giving you a hug before standing off to the side to let you in. “23 looks good on you already.”

“One, I’m your only sister,” you said, walking into her house. “And two, I heard 23 was supposed to be a shit show of a year, and so far it’s proving correct.”

You thought that alone would get her concerned and want to talk about what you told her on the phone this morning, but it got you nothing. Instead, she just closes the door and walks through the house. “I can tell you’re worried, Y/N, but I promise you, you’ve got nothing to worry about, okay? Just smile and have fun today¬– it’s all about you. Now come on, everyone’s out back.” She walks up to the backdoor and starts to push back the blinds.

Lost in your own thoughts, you mindlessly followed her out into her backyard the moment you heard the backdoor slide open. You couldn’t help but already start to prepare yourself for the explosive argument that was sure to happen the moment you stepped foot back into your apartment.

“SURPRISE!!!!”

You looked up to see your friends and family all standing in the backyard– even the three teammates Noah had said he’d spent yesterday with were there with their respective girlfriends. Wide-eyed and in disbelief, you stared at the group of smiling people in front of you before turning back to your sister. “What is this? How did you plan this? I thought this was just a family brunch.”

“I didn’t. I just provided the place of the party and helped set it up.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “Okay, then who planned this?”

Jess smiled and nods her head in the direction in front of you both. You look up to see a smiling Noah playing with Paisley, your 7-year-old niece, tossing her into the air before spinning her around. “He planned it all. Mom and dad knew he wasn’t going to be at dinner last night because he was over here helping me with the kids and setting up the party since Jake had to work late. I’m also the reason why he got so drunk. Once the kids went to bed, we kept decorating and drinking wine.” She looked back at Noah who was still entertaining Paisley as the two laughed. “The guy is totally and utterly in love with you, Y/N. I meant it when I said that you had nothing to worry about.”

You look back at Noah, just as he turns and catches your eye, smiling. It feels as if your heart is overjoyed as you watch him make his way over to you two with Paisley on his back. “Hi babe,” he chirps, leaning in and kissing you before turning to the side to bring Paisley into your view. “Paisley?”

“Hi Auntie Y/N! Uncle Noah is giving me a piggy back ride!” You could tell she loved having Noah around based on the big grin she’d get on her face whenever you brought him over. In a way, it mimicked his childlike smile.

“I see that Paisley. Do you mind if I steal Uncle Noah for a few seconds?”

Paisley’s smile fell and for a moment you felt bad taking away her playmate, but you knew that this conversation was something that had to be had…and a 7-year-old shouldn’t really heart it. Noah taps her leg and smiled. “We’ll play again in a few minutes, okay? I promise.” He placed her on the ground and wrapped his pinky around hers, sending her off with a wink.

You stood there, rocking side to side as you immediately thought back on the voicemail that you left, the argument you had just now over the phone…and the fact that you locked him out of your bedroom last night. “You could’ve told me you know…”

“Well then that would’ve ruined the surprise, wouldn’t it?” He laughed, bringing you into a hug and kissing the top of your head. It was a simple gesture that you knew for a fact, you could never and would never get tired of. The way you felt safe a secure in his arms would top any cloud-like comforter ever. “I’m sorry that I made you upset. I knew how important dinner with your parents was, but I–“

“Called them, I know. Jess told me,” you sigh and then wince as soon as you remember the details of the voicemail. “You…didn’t listen to the voicemail, right?”

He just smiled and nodded his head. “That’s why I came rushing back to the apartment. I was neck deep in wine with your sister and then I got the voicemail, ordered an uber and came home. But the bedroom door was locked, so I slept on the couch.”

You held your left arm, rubbing your shoulder as the blush crept onto your face. “Yeah, I kind of locked you out,” His reaction was exactly like you thought it would be– one of pure shock. “What? I was upset!” He was the first to erupt into a fit of laughter, with you soon following as he brought you back into his arms and you relaxed into his chest. “I don’t think I’ll ever stop saying sorry for getting so angry at you.”

“It’s okay, really,” he replied, pulling back but keeping his arms around your waist. “But I’m starting to think that maybe you’re not as much of a surprise person as you say you are.” You stick your tongue out in reply and he just leans back in and kisses you again, pulling you into him more.

The clearing of a throat pulls you away from each other and you turn to see your mom and dad standing there. You blush again before pulling away from Noah and giving them both hugs as they wished you a Happy Birthday. “Mom, Dad,” you walk back over to Noah and hold his hand as you lean into him. “This is Noah, live and in the flesh instead of on face time.”

Your mom moves first, walking up to Noah and giving him one of her loving hugs. “Thank you for treating our Y/N with such respect,” she smiled, pulling away and looking at the two of you together. “I can tell that you really love her.”

“I really do, Ma’am. And I’m sorry for missing dinner last night, I hear your cooking is to die for.”

“Yeah, if you want to die early from bad cholesterol, sure.” Your dad jokes, earning a lighthearted slap on the shoulder from your Mom as he kisses her cheek.

“We’d love to have you over again before you and Y/N go to Boston to see your family.”

“Of course, I’d love that.”

You could feel a wave of nerves wash over you when you realize that it was time for Noah to talk to your dad. You could see the way your dad was sizing Noah up as he kept his hard glare on his face, before smiling and extending his hand. “Hell of a season you boys had.”

Noah shakes his hand and your dad brings him into a hug. “Thank you, sir. Anytime you guys are in Calgary during the season, let us know and I’ll get you tickets.”

“Looking forward to it, son.” Your dad smiles, going to say something else but before he can, Paisley comes running up and tries to jump on Noah’s back.

“Uncle Noah, playtime!” She giggled, reaching up and wrapping her arms around his waist.

Noah looks at you and your parents and your dad nods. “We’ve got rounds to make, but we’ll be sure to talk some more later. Maybe you can help me grill some of the burgers and hot dogs?”

“Looking forward to it, sir.” Noah smiles, bringing Paisley onto his back again before turning to you.

You raise your eyebrows and smirk as you look at your Niece who is all giggles as she plays with Noah’s hair. “Should I be jealous?”

Noah just smirks and leans in, giving you a short, but lasting kiss. “Never, you’ve got my heart.”

You watch as Noah runs off, with Paisley, taking her over into a corner where Elias and Matt were playing with Max. A champagne glass full of your Mom’s mimosa recipe appears in front of you and you turn to see your Mom standing there, holding it. You take it from her and clink your glass against hers and your dad’s. “He’s a good kid, Y/N. I like him. Like, really like him.”

You smiled as you looked back over in Noah’s direction to see him letting Paisley tackle him into the grass as the other kids start to join in, manhandling the three hockey players. You take another sip of your mimosa and nod your head. “Me too, dad. Me too.”

[smutfornerds]

Mile High Club // Sherloque x Reader

A/N: well these two are just fueling all my creativity this weekend smh. @jay-wells-writes wrote a wonnnnnderful Mile High fic about HR. Which then lead @cursed-ocs to start up a Harry version. So NATURALLY I felt obliged to get Sherly into the club too! So here we have one of three parts to our impromptu Mile High Wells Bois miniseries. Enjoy my babies!

—

The bags were fully stowed away above you in a Tetris-like mess, but at least the compartment doors closed. Where you seemed to be relieved that the plane would be taking of soon, the detective to your right was quite the opposite. Sherloque sat ringing his hands back and forth, the occasional swipe of his dry tongue over his even drier lips. His blue gaze was stuck piercing the tarmac like if he stared hard enough it would anchor the plane to the ground. Finally taking your seat, you placed a gentle hand to his arm and he snapped his gaze to you with raised brows. “Oui? Everything okay?” The very fact that in such an anxious state he was still worried about you made your heart backflip. You gave a soft squeeze to his arm before trailing your hand down to his own, breaking his nervous palm rubbing to cup your hand over his.

“Everything’s fine, and so are you. I promise planes are nothing to be afraid of.” Giving him the most reassuring smile you could still didn’t change his mind. “Nothing oh? What about if the engines are not fully operational? Or if the wing just - POOF —“ Sherloque threw his hands up wildly as he gave the visual of some sort of explosion before continuing. “Just like that, hm? That is not something to be afraid of?” He gestured it the window and back to you before rubbing his hand over his stubbled chin. You watched as his chest rose and fell with each semi-quick breath. Without a second thought you pressed your palm to the square of his chest. He opened his mouth to speak but you were already ready. “Deep breaths. In your nose, out your mouth. Five of them.” Shooting him a serious glance he rolled his eyes before obliging. You kept your palm pressed firmly to his chest as he did so, and you could feel his heart rate lowering with each intake of air. With breath number five he finally sat back against his seat, exhaling in a slow and exasperated sigh. “I don’t mean to be such a fuss.” He stated softly, much softer than his usual booming voice. You placed your hand on the arm rest, nudging his elbow just a bit as you spoke. “Hey I was the same way when I started flying. It takes getting used to, it’s alright.” You shrugged at the finish of your sentence only to be greeted by the flight crew over the intercoms.

They gave the safety speech and motioned towards every exit, the oxygen masks and floatation devices under the seats. Every other word you would glance over at Sherloque, and his eyes would widen at the little mentions of “if we were to go down” protocols. Both of you clicked your seatbelts as the captain rang through the speakers to alert you for take off. Again you saw your companions gaze lock on the window, but this time you weren’t about to feed into his fears. “Hey, Sherloque, don’t watch the take off.” Tapping his shoulder he turned back to face you and his expression read beyond nervous. To say it took a knife to your heart was an understatement. This man who was always so confident in his every move, had faced a meta-murderer more than once without flinching, and yet the idea of flying was making his hands all but shake. You softened your expression just as the engines whirred on. He tried to turn again but this time you cupped his face in your hands. “Hey hey hey, don’t look out there just look at me.” His eyes seemed to lose their worried glaze and find a calmer, warmer one to shine back at you. “Okay.. that I can do.” He murmured as the plane began to creep forward. Letting your hands slip to rest on on his shoulder, the other in the crook of his neck, you smiled sweetly over to him to help ease his nerves.

“This is exactly what my mom has to do for me when I was a kid, just hold eye contact til we’re in the air and it’s not as scary, I promise.” Nodding at your own words, Sherloque nodded once in return before scoffing slightly. “So I’m like a child being so scared and nervous? I mean really what could be so terrible about fly-aye!” The plane lurched just as he spoke and roared into the air, sending both of you unexpectedly thumping lightly into the backs of your seats. “Sacré bleu!” The detective let his voice boom through the rows of empty seats and around the ears of the few other passengers. You could hear the muffled snickers and couldn’t help but giggle a bit yourself. Eyeing him again you couldn’t help but notice his ragged breathing had returned, even shakier than before. A frown formed on your previously chipper face and he noticed immediately. Clearing his throat he wiped a hand over his face and blinked a few times to regain his composure. “Is there any chance they’ve got a.. a nice chamomile tea on this floating deathtrap?” The tone of his voice was a bit more shrill than usual, and you could see it all over his face how tense he’d become. Placing a hand on his knee you shot him a knowing smile. “I don’t know if the flight attendants do, but I made sure to pack a few bags in my carry-on.” As you leaned down to fish your bag out from under your seat Sherloque finally cracked a smile. “Look at you mon cher, always coming prepared.” As you say up and saw his softened features you gave him a warm smile. For a moment that’s all the two of you did, stare and smile in adoration of the other. The clanking of the refreshment cart snapped you back from the trance, and you handed him the tea bag. “Uh, here. Chamomile to help calm you down.” Another genuine smile crept over his lips, and this one finally sent those dimples popping to melt your heart. “Merci belle femme.” Sherloque let his hand linger over yours a moment before snatching the tea bag, and a rose tint hit your cheeks when you realized just what he’d said.

Just like clockwork the flight attendant tapped your seat and asked if you needed anything. After procuring hot water for his tea and a few bags of pretzels, Sherloque seemed as calm as he was going to get for a while. Seeing as you were on an evening flight you went ahead and ordered yourself a glass of sparkling rosé, gaining a teasing look from your travel companion. “What? Maybe you aren’t the only one who’s a nervous flier.” You took a slow and slurping sip of your drink, sighing contently when the fizz of the bubbly and the sting of the alcohol hit your throat. Sherloque followed suit and let the tip of his cup tap your wine glass before slurping up a bit more of his tea. He coughed a bit after his sip, setting the drink down as he blew at the steam. “Too hot for the tea connoisseur?” You teased gently, still unsure of where his anxiety was and how he was feeling. Thankfully he shot you an equally playful glance. “Au contraire, I just added a bit too much..” As he spoke he reached into his coat breast pocket, waggling a small and almost empty wooden flask. “Security scanners don’t detect what isn’t metal.” He shot you a wink and you couldn’t do a thing but scoff and giggle at his antics. Of course it didn’t surprise you that he’d snuck his honey whiskey with him. The countless times he’d poured a little splash into his tea with the whip “What’s tea without a little honey?” flashed through your mind and only got you laughing harder. To your surprise and joy, Sherloque was chuckling right along side you.

Most of the first half of your six hour flight was spent chit chatting. A few moments of small turbulence got the better of Sherloque but his tea concoction seemed to be helping keep his nerves at ease. Hearing the familiar ding to alert you that you could roam the cabin, you glanced over to see him unclicking his seatbelt. “Too much tea not enough bladder. Excusez-moi?” He motioned to your legs and you spun yourself to stick them in his seat. “I’ll keep it warm for you.” You teased, and he nudged you gently with his elbow as he slid past you. Watching him stumble slightly to the main cabin bathrooms at the back of the aircraft, you looked around to see just how vacant your cabin was. Four rows ahead was a man who’d been sleeping for a few hours already, and across from him and up a few more rows sat an elderly couple who were both watching a movie on a laptop. When a stewardess walked by you asked how far you were from landing, and she said it’d be about another two hours. Shifting around your seat you let your feet hit the floor, stretching as best you could in the cramped seat. You’d finished your wine and stolen a bag of his pretzels in the time Sherloque had been gone, and the plane had been a bit bumpy, so you worried he’d lost himself in his anxiety all alone.

Quietly as to not disturb the few sleeping passengers behind you, you crept to the bathroom and gave a light rasp to the door. “Sherloque? Hey it’s just me, is everything okay?” You spoke softly into the crack of the door, and heard him shuffle his feet and clear his throat before the lock clicked open. Instead of coming out however he opened the door enough to motion you in with him. The quarters were cramped, but not uncomfortably so. You stood with your back against the door and Sherloque leaned against the small counter. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to just leave you, the plane started back with the-the bumps and—“ He closed his eyes, trying his best to take a deep breath but you could see how hard it had become for him to stay calm. Unsure of whether it was the wine flowing your movements or because of how enticing the veins in his neck were looking you weren’t sure. But you closed the minimal space between you by locking your lips onto his. The faint taste of his whiskey floated into your mouth as his tongue skillfully rolled against yours. His slightly shaky hands fell to your hips and gripped tightly, pressing your body firmer and tighter to his. Another bump of turbulence and he groaned, but you weren’t about to let him lose himself in anxiety. Only in you.

Hopping onto the small counter area you wasted no time slipping your shorts off. Sherloque eyes widened at the sight but he wasn’t about to deny you. He slid his trousers down to his knees, letting himself hang out of his boxers when you pulled him back into another heated kiss. His hands traveled up your thighs and along your waist before he began palming at your breasts. A small whine left you and dripped into the kiss, and Sherloque ate up every little noise you made like he was starving for them. You rolled your hips forward and ground against him, feeling the way his erection grew against your thighs made the pool between your legs practically gush. As he moved a hand down to your panties you brought yours to his hair, combing your fingers through his wild curls only making them crazier. His fingers brushed your wetness and now he groaned for a whole new, breathless reason. Pushing the fabric aside he slicked his fingers into your awaiting wetness, rubbing figure eights over your clit. The moans and whimpers that trickled out of you melted him to the bone. Using his free hand he lined himself up with you, sliding in with ease. A strained groan left the both of you, and you both stopped to tell the other you needed to stay quiet. A seductive grin curled over your lips and you began grinding into him, forcing him to thrust into you deeper with each movement. Soon his hands were bracing the counter as he railed into your core, and your lip was throbbing with this hard you were biting it to stay quiet. Another bout of turbulence rocked the plane but neither of you could be bothered, as it had forced Sherloque to hit an angle in you that made your back arch harshly into him. That was all he needed to release, and he pulled himself from you to try to shoot into his hand.

As if on reflex you jumped from the counter and dropped to your knees, moving his sticky hand away to lap up his mess yourself. The look of shock and immeasurable pleasure on his face was more than enough fuel to keep going, but you knew you’d been in there long enough to draw attention already. So you gave a few slow bobs of your head as your tongue swirled his tip, cleaning every little drop of his seed before sliding your lips off of him again. His head hung back against the wall for a moment as he caught his breath. Taking the initiative you grabbed a wad of toilet paper and slid it across his messy hand, causing him to chuckle lazily. “Merci, you naughty little thing.” His voice was low and raspy, as if he was truly spent. What with how anxious he’d been and then surprising him with a ticket to the mile high club, you weren’t surprised. Standing to your feet again you wiped your thumb along your lower lip to clean any trace of your fun from your mouth. “We better get back to our seats before we get in trouble..” You shot him a wink before leaning up to peck his cheek. “I’ll see you out there.” Creaking the door open you scanned for any signs of what you’d done being known, but everything was exactly as you’d left it. Everyone asleep, flight attendants in the first class cabin being none the wiser.

Making your way back to your seats you decided to steal Sherloque’s window seat, and curl up with the complimentary blanket. When he came back a few minutes later he chuckled at the sight of you. “Keeping my seat warm hm?” He grinned down at you before settling into your previous spot. He lifted the armrest that separated the two of you and motioned for you to cuddle into him, and you happily obliged. You curled your legs up into his lap and the action made a slow creeping smirk grow on his features. Pulling the blanket up over you, he slid a hand along your thigh until he was pressed at your clit through your shorts. Shooting him a playful glare he whispered to you, just as he began pushing his fingers past the fabric. “It’s not at all fair that I got off and you, such a thoughtful..” He paused to slick the pad of his finger along your folds. “Wonderful..” Again he lowered his voice to a raspier whisper while his fingers glided along your wetness, finding your clit with ease and wasting no time rubbing hard circles against the bundle of nerves. A small whimper escaped you and you bit your lip again, wincing at the sensitivity from earlier. Sherloque simply let out a chuckle as he quickened the pace of his fingers. Burying your face in his neck you whined just below his ear, and you watched the goosebumps trail over his skin. “Belle femme.. so so beautiful like this, all for moi..” He continued rubbing furiously at your clit as you began writhing in your seat. His free hand braced your back as he pressed even harder to your clit.

Releasing your bite on your own skin you latched onto his neck, gaining a sharp gasp from him. He began flicking the tip of his finger rapidly across your throbbing clit, and you were had. Your hips twitched up into his hand and a soft, slow and needy whine escaped you against his bitten skin. “Oh, so beautiful..” Sherloque slowly pulled his hand from between your legs, starting to wipe it on the blanket when a thought hit his still slightly tipsy mind. “Since you were so willing to clean me before..” He trailed his hand up to your face, letting his middle finger trace your lower lip before slowly parting them to get his finger in your mouth. Without hesitation you licked him clean just as you’d done to his length in the bathroom. Sherloque bit back another groan and cleared his throat, stealing a chaste kiss once you’d released his digit. The kiss seemed calmer, less heat and more gratitude behind it. Upon pulling away you heard the intercoms click on to alert everyone the plane would be landing shortly. Sherloque sucked in a deep breath and locked his arm tightly around your shoulders to keep you close to him. Bringing your hand up to his chest, you placed it directly where you had at the beginning of the flight. “Don’t worry, I’m right here.” This time however, you were given a genuine smile in return and not a faked or scared one. “And aren’t I the luckiest man alive for that to be so?” He placed a sweet and tender kiss to your forehead just as the plane began to descend.

[mistyyygoode]

The Lonely Hearts: 3 - Wine

Trigger Warning: Mention of suicide idealization, and in-depth talk of mental health.

___ 

The rest of the week is passed by quicker than Shelby had imagined it to. She was now on her way to her second appointment with Vincent after dropping Marie off at daycare.

As she walked into the office, she saw Ally walking out of the man's office. She sighed herself in as they spoke for a moment.

"Take your pills." Dr. Vincent said before walking back into his office.

Ally rolled her eyes as she sighed. When her eyes met Shelby's, she smiled. "Hey," she grinned.

"Hey," Shelby said softly.

"How have you been?"

"I'm okay. You?"

"Stressed, if I'm being honest. Did you get that job?" Ally asked.

"I, uh, haven't heard yet. I'm giving them a few more days."

"Let me know because I'm still looking for an assistant. If you're up for that."

"I'm not sure, actually," Shelby said.

Ally pulled a pad of paper from her purse and wrote her number down. She tore the piece of paper out and handed it over. "Well, let me know when you find out."

"Okay," Shelby smiled as she took the paper. "Thank you."

"You're welcome... I've got to go. Come to the butchery tomorrow if it's easier for you." Ally said as she walked toward the exit.

"Okay."

"Shelby," Vincent called from the door of his office.

"Bye," the two told each other.

Shelby walked into the office and took a seat across from Vincent's spot.

"How was the week?" he asked as he sat down.

"Productive," Shelby said.

"How so?"

"I got most of my apartment unpacked, and I applied for a job."

"Where at?"

"A yoga studio." She said.

"Okay. How have your panic attacks been?"

"They're still there..." Shelby sighed.

"Just as bad?"

"I guess..." she shrugged.

"How high or low would you rate your anxiety on a normal day?"

"A normal day would probably be somewhere between five or six." She explained.

"And a bad day?"

"They can be as bad as a ten."

"What would a bad day consist for you?" Vincent asked without looking up from his notebook.

"Probably walking up from a nightmare... I'd want to spend most of the day in bed, and take a Valium, but since I had Marie, I don't do that anymore... I get up and make her breakfast and get her doing something before I take a Valium. I usually watch TV with her and do whatever she needs me for." Shelby explained.

Vincent nodded. "What are your nightmares like?"

Shelby looked down at her lap. "Basically, flashbacks of what happened, or something worse."

"Do you have flashbacks when you're awake?"

"Yes..."

"How often?"

"It depends. Usually, it's if I've seen or heard something that triggers it."

"Have you tried Prozac?" Vincent asked.

"Yes. It didn't work." Shelby said.

"What about Praxil?"

"No."

"I want you to try it. We're going to start with fifty milligrams every day for two weeks. I want to continue our weekly session, and in two weeks we'll see where you are with the medication. Have you ever tried Effexor?"

"I'm not taking that," Shelby said as she looked up.

"Why not?"

"My mother was on it, and when she had to get off of it, she was so sick she went into the hospital."

"Okay..." Vincent said as he wrote this down. "Is your mother depressed as well?"

"She had bipolar II, and she had borderline personality disorder."

"Had?" he asked, looking up.

"She died when I was seventeen," Shelby said in a monotone, showing no emotion.

"What happened?"

"She killed herself."

"Have you ever been suicidal yourself?"

Shelby's eyes dropped back to her lap. "At times."

"Are you still suicidal?"

"Not at the moment."

"When was the last time you had any suicidal idealization?"

"Probably a couple of months." She answered softly.

"Have you ever acted upon these thoughts?"

"No."

"Okay. I also want to try and put you on Prazosin. It will help the nightmares. And, I want to take you off the Valium, and cut back on the Trazadone."

Shelby's eyes grew wide. "What?!" she asked.

"Valium can worsen your nightmares, and with the Prazosin, you don't need a hundred milligrams of Trazadone."

"What am I supposed to do when I have a panic attack?" she asked.

"I'll be giving you Xanax. They're similar, but without the possibility of nightmares." He explained.

Shelby let out a sigh as she nodded. "Okay."

"How long until you find out about the job?"

"I'm giving them a few more days." She answered.

"Have you applied anywhere else?"

"No, well, not really."

"Not really?"

"Well, Ally – your patient before me – offered me a job if I don't get this one," Shelby explained.

"What kind of job?"

"She said she needed an assistant."

Vincent just nodded as he wrote this down. "Okay... was there anything this week that you would say you couldn't cope with?"

"Unpacking some things... I found some of Matt's things, some pictures, and even one of Dominic's shirts I kept." Shelby explained.

"Who's Dominic?" Vincent asked, brows slightly furrowed.

"He, uh... we had a small affair before the second part of the show. He's... he's Marie's father." She said softly as she looked down.

"Oh... I just assumed she was Matt's."

"No," Shelby said. "We hadn't had sex for a few months before I slept with Dominic, and he's the only guy who I slept with during the month I would have gotten pregnant."

Vincent nodded. "What did you do with the things you found?"

"I put the clothes into a box, and I have it in my trunk right now. I'm taking it to a donation place, maybe Goodwill. And with the pictures, I threw them away."

"How long has the box been in your car?"

"Uh... maybe three days?" she said.

"Okay, that's your next assignment. I want you to take that box to wherever you want to take it today or tomorrow. You need to get rid of it. Is there anything else you found?"

"No," Shelby said.

"Okay. Is there anything else you feel we need to discuss?"

"Not really."

After leaving the office, Shelby sat in her car for a few minutes. She grabbed her phone and the slip of paper that Ally gave her.

Shelby: Hey, it's Shelby. I was wondering if I can come by today. Even if it's just for some fries

Not even a whole minute passed before she received a reply.

Ally: You're welcome to come whenever you want. You can bring your daughter if you would like

Shelby: Thank you. I'm on my way now

Shelby decided to leave Marie at the daycare. Madalyn had told her a day or two before that she should spend more time with the kids there to grow better, so she was trying to let her daughter socialize with children her age instead of adults.

When she arrived at the butchery, she saw Ally sitting in the back booth with a bottle of wine and a computer. She saw the woman look up from her computer, and wave her over.

Shelby made her way over and sat down across from her. Ally started to pour a second glass, and as much as Shelby wanted it, she knew she couldn't. "I have to get Marie... I'm sorry."

Ally shook her head. "Don't be sorry. I'm sorry, I didn't even think of that. The fries are on the way already... bad session?"

"You could say that," Shelby laughed sarcastically.

"I know the feeling. This is my third glass of wine."

"How are you not drunk?" Shelby asked, slightly shocked.

"Who said I wasn't?" Ally laughed softly.

She laughed along with the other brunette. "I wish I could have a glass. I might after I put Marie down tonight. I haven't finished the bottle you gave me yet, but it is amazing. It's the best I've ever had."

"I agree, although, the market on Jackson isn't too bad with their rosé." Ally said.

"I'll have to get some."

A waiter came to the table with a glass of water and a platter of fries. "Here you go, Mrs. Mayfair-Richards." He said before looking at Shelby. "Can I get you anything?"

"No, thank you."

"Thank you, Chad." Ally said before he walked away. "So, what's your favorite type of wine?"

"Red," Shelby said before she grabbed a fry to eat.

"Me too! I can't stand white."

"It's too dry."

"Exactly!" Ally exclaimed.

They both grinned before taking sips of their drinks. "So, what are you working on?" she asked.

"Nothing, actually. Ivy thinks I'm working on bills, but I did them this morning. This is my way to have some wine and no disturbances."

"Am I a disturbance?" Shelby asked.

"No, you're a refreshment." Ally said with a small smile.

Shelby smiled to herself before saying, "I don't think I'm going to get that job."

"Like I said, you've got the job here if you want it."

"What would that intel?" Shelby asked.

"Are you good at math?"

"Extremely."

"Perfect, you've already got the job." The natural brunette said happily. "Basically, you'll make sure everything is done and turned in on time, kind of like my reminder. Uh... you might take care of some phone calls for me, check numbers for me before I turn anything in, and I might put you on inventory to make sure we don't buy too much or too little of something." She explained.

"Sounds easy enough," Shelby said before sipping on her water.

Ally poured herself another glass of wine. "Great, you've got the job."

"You're a very functioning drunk," Shelby said before widening her eyes. "Sorry..."

"It's okay, I am." Ally said.

"I don't have much of a filter..."

"It's okay, really." The older woman said. "Do you want to talk about your session? I find that helpful sometimes."

Shelby shrugged. "I'm not sure I like Vincent."

"I know he seems like an asshole, but he's helpful. I've been seeing him for nearly ten years."

Shelby's eyes went wide before looking down at her fries. "That's a long time."

"I've gone to therapy for a long time. Sometimes I take breaks, but recently it's been pretty consistent." Ally explained.

"Can I ask why?" Shelby looked back up at the other brunette before stuffing another handful of fries into her mouth.

"I have anxiety and phobias... they seem to worsen when I'm under stress, and I don't like taking my medication."

"I don't like taking my pills either."

"What are you on?"

"Well, I was on Trazadone and Valium, but he switched me to Xanax, and uh... shit, what was that called? Something for nightmares."

"Prazosin?"

"Yeah, that! Oh, and Praxil. Have you ever tried that?" Shelby asked.

"That's what I'm on right now with Xanax. I didn't care for Prazosin because I was a zombie the next day."

"Fuck..."

"Not everyone is like that. I'm very sensitive to sleeping medication. I'm on a very, very low dose of Seroquel right now too." Ally explained before downing more wine.

"I've never tried that."

"They don't suggest it with Xanax."

"Then... why do you take it?"

"I don't have any side effects. Only some people do." Ally said.

"Oh, okay."

"Just don't let him put you on Effexor."

"I told him no today," Shelby said.

"Good. It's a bitch to get off of."

"I know..." Shelby said softly before eating a few more fries.

"Have you ever been on it before?"

"No, but my mother was."

"Ah," Ally nodded before finishing off her wine. "So, what else besides pills made you upset with Vincent?"

"I felt... kind of judged by something I used to regret, but not so much anymore," Shelby said.

"What was it?" Ally asked. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, honey."

Shelby felt her heart skip a beat and a small flutter in her stomach at the friendly 'honey'. "I don't mind... I had an affair before Matt, and I split up. I know it was shown on the show, but it wasn't just that one weekend that the paparazzi caught."

"With that actor, right?" Ally asked.

"Yeah..." Shelby sighed. "It lasted about a month. He's Marie's father, not Matt. I guess Vincent assumed it was Matt since he's my ex."

"I think since he doesn't know a whole lot about you, that maybe that's why. He doesn't listen to what other people say, or social media type things." Ally explained. "But, he shouldn't have judged you either. Things happen, we're human."

Shelby nodded with a small sigh before eating a few more fries. "Thank you for listening to me. I don't... really have anyone else, close at least."

"Of course," Ally smiled softly. "I can always be a listening ear when you need one."

Shelby smiled softly as she nodded. "Thank you, really."

"Of course!"

Shelby glanced down at her phone to see a text from Madalyn, seeing it was time to pick up Marie soon. "I should get going soon... how are you getting home like this?" she asked, referring to Ally's drunken state.

"I'll take an Uber. It wouldn't be the first time, plus, I still have..." the brunette glanced at her watch. "Forty-five minutes until I have to be home. The longer the better."

Shelby bit her lip softly. "Are you sure?"

"Mhm," Ally nodded softly.

"Is everything okay?" Shelby asked softly. She could sense that something wasn't.

"With me or...?" the other woman asked as she sipped on her wine.

"Well, you or your marriage. You know, I know how things can get hard, or go wrong... clearly." Shelby chuckled softly.

Ally shrugged. "Things are okay right now. Thank you. You should get going and get your daughter, Marie right?"

She nodded softly. "Yeah, it's Marie. And okay. If you need to talk to, you can always text me. I can be that listening ear for you too."

Ally smiled softly as she nodded. "Thank you, same goes for you."

"Of course, and thank you, for listening and for the fries," Shelby said as she stood up from the booth.

"Of course. See you soon?" Ally asked before drinking more of her wine.

"Yeah, maybe next time I'll bring Marie with me." She said.

"Awesome. See you soon." The other woman said before looking back down at her computer.

"Bye," Shelby said before walking off.