#im a firm believer in looking exactly how you want to all the time

[smugglerofsass]

i saw your tags and i am dying to know the four GO related costumes, if it isn’t too much trouble to ask? ♥️

Ok ok ok here's the thing, this might be more than you bargained for because it's not four costumes, it's four years worth of costumes and inspired looks I have too many of those lets not talk about that.

Break so I can insert some pictures where I have them.

You see, I started cosplaying Crowley in 2019, like half of the rest of this fandom. I saw the show, I made my best friend watch it, she asked if Aziraphale and Crowley could be our Halloween costume for the year, I agreed exclusively on the grounds I could be Crowley, and the rest is essentially history.....except it's not because if my life isn't one cosmic joke what's the point right. My hair was purple at the time and I insisted I wasn't going to dye it for this, despite everyone I knew asking about it. So we did Halloween, at speed, mind you, so it was more about does it look like them rather than does it look like them, but doing these costumes gave me brain rot bad.

This is genuinely one of the best photos I'm going to be able to share with you rn, because someone took these photos of me intentionally. My best friend/Aziraphale had prior plans and this kinda got dropped on me like what costume can you wear to go to the cemetery approximately now.

In December, I started dying my hair red, we're all laughing because it's funny.

Obviously this was right before the plague times and I was still in undergrad at the time. We had a socially distanced halloween party the next year between the costume and scene shops, and I wore basically the same thing, just with doc martens and sfx contacts that time because I was working on a much larger costume for my undergrad capstone (tho not my history capstone, that was tragically different.) I started working on a late Victorian women's ensemble in black and green that was intended to be versatile enough to be both historically accurate in settings that needed it, while also being able to be an all out cosplay, just an inspired one. I didn't actually get good picture of it until late last year when I had shifted into what I call "stupidly" red hair dye and cut my hair (I was in grad school when s2 filming pictures started to come out, it does something to your brain, you make interesting choices during Thanksgiving break.)

(Enjoy a rare film photo of @christinedieae and I, we were working on these outfits together, and mostly in the same work space in 2021, so it was a mission to photograph these two together because they were so different on the dress forms.)

In 2021, I attended Ren Fair for the first time and made pirate inspired looks for my best friend and I. Tragically I don't have any photos from this year other than us at like 8am in my driveway and I'm not willing to share them rn but I made this full length sleeveless coat with fabric i found at joanns that year that has snakes and roses. I also wore it last year but it was very cold and windy that day so the only photo of me is my "Anakin storming the temple" look, peak my red wig and the best garment I've ever made, my cloak.

Then, some of my favorite ren fair looks from last year. The halo is one of the single best purchases I've made while costuming, and at this point its been a while.

The only down side to ren fair is that I'm often without an Aziraphale, as my best friend has become a bird (this is a genuine logistical challenge and at times takes between three and four of us to manage at the fair grounds so my full length snake skirt might not be returning to the fair this year.) Said bird also steals my glasses.

Here's another look with selections pulled from my historical wardrobe for a wizarding event at the museum I work at last year. This was the first time anyone I worked with saw my contacts and I have found it's good to warn people who know me because they find it a serious jumpscare. Some adults also have opinions, but kids really seem to like them.

And then some silly things from an event we attended in May last year. It was Friday the 13th and easily 100 degrees. I made Aziraphale's waistcoat in a week because I wasn't insane enough already (when you get motivation to do something you take it idk). On an even bigger my life is a cosmic joke note, when the first s2 pictures came out with the leather waistcoat I got in my closet and finally begrudgingly admitted my mom was right, because I had a leather waistcoat she had given me from the 80s.

I feel like I might have posted some of these photos here before, I remember asking for an "angel ( )" caption for my friend dressed as Castiel, and the groupchat soundly rejecting "angel (homosexual)" as too non-specific. It was very hot, we descended into insanity by the end of the night, a group of girls recognized us while we were trapped in the middle of this tiny candy store, chaos at its finest. This is also the night where someone referred to our group as the "most attractive group of queer people" they'd ever seen, and thus named our group chat.

I know there have been sooooo many more, some combination of all of this is how I dress on the daily so I'm kinda always testing new or inspired looks. And our ren fair opens this weekend, and I've been working on making and acquiring some fun new things for some new looks this year, so I'll have more looks very soon.

The last thing I can leave you with, I suppose, is this. I'm going to a wedding in October with costumes encouraged, but all black is off the table. SO I'm recreating an Edwardian gown in a red silk I found that is cross woven with black threads so it has this shift to it while still looking red, the silk is called Omen.

My darling Aziraphale is @jesterjamboree as always. @frameratess also appears here, and is often the only one of us remembering to take pictures. And already mentioned is @christinedieae, we egg each other on with our crazy ideas.

[lunicho]

OK SO WHAT IF.. hanbin has lots of patience, as in ALOT. but one day, you decided to test it and get him pissed off by making him jealous, so of course, he punishes you! he turns mean & rough instead of the usual sweet, kind of mean dom he is 🤭 degrading & praise combined too!

im a firm believer that hanbin is very very stern. he has a lot of self control and he doesn't give in easily. i've given my friend like a full on comparison of how i think hanbin is as a dom vs jiwoong cuz in my mind they're complete opposites (lmk if y'all wanna hear what i think) but yeah like hanbin can keep his cool for sure. he doesn't give in to your tactics easily because if he tells you to wait or if he tells you to be patient then he expects u to respect that. usually he's able to laugh off your advances or he'll give u a warning and usually things like that help, they at least get u to settle down but if u just keep on pushing it he won't be able to keep it together. he doesn't play about the jealousy stuff, ur his baby and only his baby. he knows ur gorgeous so other guys looking at you or even throwing little flirts at u usually isn't a huge problem for him, he may say smth slick but it's usually not a big deal. but when you're the one showing off and flaunting it with other guys he's like??? it very quickly goes from "aww that's so cute" to him being very very unhappy with you. he'd for a second thing that you're just feeling yourself but when you go as far as to lean in close with another guy or even put your hand on the other guys chest or smth while u laugh,,, yeah he's not having it.

he'd stay back at first, watching you with the most stern look on his face. he's mad as hell and you know he is too, you could feel him burning a hole in the side of your head. when you walk back over to him he'd pretty much have a forever frown pasted on his face. what would really get him to the point of just being straight up mean is that you act dumb when you come back to him. you're asking him what's wrong knowing Exactly what the problem is. he wouldn't even be able to look at you, he'd just be like, "say bye, we're leaving." and he's dragging u out to the car. he's not gonna talk the entire car ride but his body language does enough talking. his hand would grip the steering wheel extra hard and his eyes would be dark and worst of all he would not be looking at you the entire time 😭

when u guys get in the house is when he finally talks. he'd let you take your shoes off, he'd let you place your purse on the hook, he'd hang up the keys and take his shoes off as well and then he'll just watch you. he'll watch how you fiddle, how you look so shameful all of a sudden and he'll just scoff. he'll tell you to get on the bed, his voice would be so stern, almost echoing off the walls as if he yelled at you. he'd tease u so much when u do things like this, he'd have no remorse for you. he'd lazily pull your clothes apart, probably tearing the material in the process. he'd mark you up so much too, you'd have those deep deep colored hickeys all over your body. he'd say things like, "show these to that guy you were talking to. what was so interesting about him anyways?" and he'll have you explain to him what you were talking to him about and he'd break you down to the point where you have to admit that you were just trying to get hanbin's attention. he'd laugh at you, pulling your legs apart slowly. he's mean in times like this, not giving in when you beg and definitely not when you cry, if anything when you're crying he gets even meaner. taunting you and calling you names, saying things like, "what happened to that little act earlier? isn't that why you're here now? wanted to act like a slut infront of other guys.. thought i taught you better than that." he has a crazy amount of stamina in times like this, his thrusts stay sharp and harsh, making you cum faster than you ever have before. he holds you down too, the way you squirm annoying him.

he'll only soften up at the end after you're completely fucked out, covered in his cum and yours, he'll kiss you gently, helping you get all cleaned up. he's the best at aftercare, no matter how mad he was before he'll be so so sweet and gentle and make sure you know you're loved by him <3

[nightwriter357]

Smosh summer games:ships

Thank you for your patience everyone, it's finally time for the second part of smosh summer games:ships. I'm definitely taking my time and making this romance a bit slower until it gets smutty but I hope you still enjoy the fluff and comedy with the group

Also a massive thank you to everyone who gave me inspiration for this chapter, I loved hearing from you guys!

Part 2 - Mother trucker, dude that hurt like a buttcheek on a stick

You woke up to the soft glow of morning light through the porthole. As you shifted in the bed, a sharp twinge of pain shot through your back. You groaned softly, stretching and trying to ease the stiffness.

Damien's head popped over the edge of the top bunk, his hair mussed from sleep. "Good morning," he said with a sleepy smile. "How'd you sleep?"

"Morning," you replied, wincing as you sat up. "Not to great, to be honest. My back is fucking killing me. These bunk beds are not exactly comfortable."

Damien frowned slightly. "Yeah, I can imagine. These beds are pretty rough."

You sighed, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed and slowly standing up. Damien climbed down from the top bunk, stretching his own limbs. You both tried stretching for a bit, but the stiffness in your back refused to ease.

"Did you get thoose kinks out?," Damien asked, watching you with a sympathetic look.

You shook your head, attempting a few more stretches. "Nope, but im pretty sure I was kinky before sleeping in the bunk bed"

Damien's eyes lit up as a smile started to form. "Oh I'm sure partner."

You tilted your head, "partner?"

He put his hands up, "well what should I call you then, shipmate? duobro? 

"lover, soulmate, better half" you continued.

He froze for a second before responding, "yeah.. yeah I don't think anybody will react if I start calling you lover?

You laughed softly. "No, it's perfectly innocent."

He watched you as you tried to ease your own pain, seemingly working up the courage to say something .

"So.. uhm.. speaking of innocent, How about a massage? I'm pretty good at it, if I do say so myself."

Your heart skipped a beat at the thought. "Are you sure? I don't want to trouble you."

"It's no trouble at all," he said, already moving to sit beside you on the bed. "Lie down on your stomach."

You hesitated for a moment before lying down, your head resting on your folded arms. Your heart raced, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. As Damien's fingers gently brushed your hair aside, you felt a shiver run down your spine.

His hands were warm and firm on your shoulders. He started with light pressure, his fingers kneading the muscles at the base of your neck. The tension began to melt away under his touch, and you let out a contented sigh. "Wow, you weren't kidding. This feels amazing."

Damien chuckled softly. "Told you. I have a secret talent."

He worked his way down your back, his fingers skillfully finding and easing each knot of tension. As he reached the middle of your back, he applied a bit more pressure, his thumbs pressing into the sore spots and drawing out a low moan from you.

"That's the spot," you murmured, feeling the pain ebb away.

"You know, yesterday was a lot of fun," Damien said, his voice low and soothing. "I'm really glad we got to spend time together."

"Yeah, it was," you agreed, smiling to yourself. "I can't believe we almost won. My aim is usually terrible."

Damien laughed, the sound vibrating through his hands into your back. "Well, you did great.. And staying up late talking was awesome too."

"Definitely," you said, reaching for your water bottle on the bedside table, feeling your mouth dry up from the nervousness. Trying to drink while lying on your stomach proved to be a mistake, and you ended up spilling water on your face and it poured down you neck and all over your shirt.

Damien laughed, the sound warm and playful. "Smooth move, you really do have terrible aim, huh?" He helped you sit up, the two of you now sitting side by side on the bed. " Need some help there?"

You giggled, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement. "Maybe a little."

He reached for a towel and gently dabbed at your face and neck. "There, all better. But I have to say, you wear water well."

You laughed, "Thanks, I try."

"Feeling any better?" he asked, his tone softening as he held up the towel against you cheek.

"Yeah, a bit," you replied, lowering your gaze while still smiling at him. "Thanks."

Just as you were about to say more, the door swung open, and Courtney walked in with her usual energy. "Morning, roomies! Hope I'm not interrupting anything."

You and Damien both looked up, slightly startled. "Hey, Courtney," you greeted her, still feeling the warmth of Damien's touch lingering on your skin.

Courtney grinned, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "Hey, Damien, I need the room, and y/n for some vlogging. Shayne's waiting for you in your guys room."

Damien pouted slightly, clearly wanting to stay. "Aw man, do I have to? I was just getting comfortable here."

Courtney raised an eyebrow, her smile widening. "Yes, you have to. Besides, y/n and I have some stuff to catch up on. You'll have plenty of time to hang out later."

You couldn't help but smile at Damien's reluctance. "It's okay, Damien. We'll catch up later."

Damien sighed dramatically, standing up and stretching. "Fine, fine. But you better not have all the fun without me."

Courtney laughed, waving him off. "Don't worry, we'll save some fun for you. Now go on, Shayne's waiting."

As Damien gathered his things, he gave you a quick, playful salute. "See you later, y/n."

"See you," you replied, watching him leave with a mix of amusement and a hint of longing.

"I'll see you later too, Damien", Courtney yelled after him.

Once the door closed behind him, Courtney immediately pulled out her camera and started recording. "Morning, vlog! It's Courtney here, and I'm with y/n in our room. We've got a fun day ahead of us at the Smosh Summer Games, ships edition!"

You waved at the camera with a cheerful smile. "Hey, everyone! We're so excited for today. Yesterday was awesome, and I bet there's some crazy stuff planned."

Courtney panned the camera around the room, capturing the cozy atmosphere. "So, y/n, how did you sleep? These bunk beds are not exactly five-star comfort."

You chuckled, shaking your head. "Honestly, not the best. My back is a bit sore, but it's all part of the experience, right?"

Courtney grinned, giving the camera a look. "Well, folks, I'll make sure y/n gets some proper rest tonight. But first, we've got to get ready for today's games."

"Yeah, especially after such a long night of... oh, I mean, the bunks aren't exactly comfy," you said, catching yourself just in time. "But it was fun having a little roomie chat before bed, right, Court?"

Courtney nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely! It was like so much fun. We stayed up way too late talking about everything that happend yesterday."

You both shared a knowing smile, hoping the viewers would buy it.

Courtney continued, "So y/n, can you believe the twist this year? Being paired up with the fans favorite ships? I mean, who would've thought?"

You laughed. "I know, right? 'The Leg Peggers' is such a fitting name for our team, and being paired with Damien... well, let's just say I wasn't suprised or disapointed!"

Courtney nodded, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "And of course, I'm with Shayne, which is just perfect. But seriously, how funny was Spencer's judge outfit yesterday? That wig was something else!"

You giggled, remembering the scene. "Oh my god, yes! He looked like he stepped out of a history book. And the way he kept saying those courtroom lines... classic Spencer."

Courtney laughed, nodding in agreement. "Totally. And ofcourse we ended up on the same team" She leaned in to hug you with her free arm. "Wish we would have been shiped though but.. good enough I guess.

You both burst into laughter, enjoying the playful banter. "Yeah so true, We're definetly got the star power on our team, 'The Seamen' better watch out".

Courtney grinned, pointing the camera back at herself. "Alright, vlog, we're off to get ready for today's challenges. Stay tuned for more fun and craziness at the Smosh Summer Games"

"Shiiiiiips," you chimed in.

She ended the recording and set the camera aside, turning back to you with a smile. "So, seriously, how was it sharing a room with Damien? He didn't snore or anything, did he? Also, I didn't expect to find you both on like the same bed this morning."

You laughed, shaking your head. "No, he didn't snore. He was actually really easy to talk to. We stayed up late just chatting about everything. And as for this morning, it's so not what it looks like. I was just complaining about my back, and he offered to give me a massage. Totally innocent."

Courtney raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing on her lips. "Totally innocent, huh? Sure, if you say so. " She poked your side with her ellbow. But sounds like a bit more than just a friendly massage to me."

You felt your cheeks heat up and quickly shook your head. "I swear, it was just a massage. He was being really sweet, that's all."

Courtney laughed, clearly enjoying your flustered reaction. "Okay, okay, I believe you. For now. But you know, the fans are going to go wild if they ever find out."

You sighed, still smiling. "Well you're one to talk"

Courtney smiled warmly. "Okay you got me there." She stod up to face you, "soooo, how about some sunbathing?"

You nodded, already feeling the excitement of the day's activities building. "I'm ready. Let's do this."

As you took your bikini out from your bag, you couldn't help but replay the morning's events in your mind, a smile tugging at your lips at the memory of Damien's touch and the fact that he seemed to want to stay in the room with you so bad.

You and Courtney made your way to the deck, finding a sunny spot to lay out your towels. The warmth of the sun felt incredible on your skin as you settled down, ready to relax and soak up the rays.A few moments later, Shayne joined you both, followed closely by Amanda and Arasha. 

"Hey, ladies! Mind if we join you?" Shayne asked, spreading out his towel beside Courtney.

"Is there a world where I would say no to that?" Courtney replied with a grin, making room for him. Amanda and Arasha settled down nearby, greeting you both with cheerful enthusiasm.

From the corner of your eye, you noticed Damien playing pool with some other cast members. He seemed distracted, his gaze frequently drifting over to where you were lounging with the others. More than once, Anthony had to tap him on the shoulder to get his attention back to the game. It was hard to ignore the way his eyes lingered on you, a mix of focus and something else that drew your attention. Was it possible that Damien actually liked you? The thought made your heart beat a little faster, sending a subtle wave of flustered nerves through you. You quickly turned back to the group, trying to suppress the smile that threatened to form on your lips, determined not to let your thoughts show.

"So, how's rooming together" Arasha asked looking at you and Courtney.

You chuckled, Courtney leaned in, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Actually, we switched rooms so Shayne and I could sleep together. So now, Damien and y/n are sharing a room."

Amanda raised her eyebrows, looking impressed. "Ooh, sneaky move, Court! So, y/n, how's that working out?"

You smiled, still feeling a bit flustered. "It's fine, really. Damien's been a gentleman."

Arasha grinned, nudging you playfully. "I'm sure he has." 

Amanda stretched out on her towel, looking relaxed. "I'm with Angela. We're already plotting our game strategy. Not that we need to, we crushed it yesterday"

The group chatted and laughed, the sun warming your skin as you enjoyed the easygoing banter. Courtney put sun lotion on Shayne and ended upp squeezing out half the bottle on his back, he chased her around the deck as the rest of you rooted for Courtney to get away with it.

After a while, Damien strolled over, a playful glint in his eye. "Hey, lover," he said as he approached, his tone teasing.

"Oh, hi lover," you responded with a grin, lowering your sunglasses.

Damien smiled, then turned to the group. "Can I borrow Shayne for a moment?"

Shayne got up turning to you all, "I'm in high demand it seams"

Damien looked at you again, "see you all later," he said, waving before walking away.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Amanda and Arasha turned to you with wide eyes. "Lover? What's that about?" Arasha asked, her curiosity piqued.

You laughed, feeling a bit sheepish. "It's an inside joke. We were just goofing around this morning."

Courtney grinned, leaning back on her towel. "Yeah, just goofing around on the bed together right?"

You turned around and pulled up her sunglasses from her eyes" Oh shut up", you looked back at Amanda and Arasha, glancing in the direction Damien had gone. "We are.. It's been great, getting to know him better."

Amanda chuckled, giving you a knowing look. "Just don't forget about us when you two are off having your inside jokes and deep deep talks."

"Never," you said with a smile. "You guys are stuck with me."

Arasha pursed her lips at you "Okay, loverrrrr"

The group laughed, just then, Angela walked by, her curiosity piqued. "What are you guys whispering about?"

You glanced at Arasha, sharing a conspiratorial smile. "Oh, you didn't hear? Arasha BOOKED."

Angela rolled her eyes, her voice filled with mock exasperation. "I am NOT falling for that one again, man."

As Angela walked off, everyone burst into laughter, the moment lightening the mood and hopefully taking the heat of you and Damien for a bit. After a while you decided to get back and prepare for whatever game was next. You passed Damien on your way back to the cabin. Spencer tugged on his shoulder, "Hey man, It's your turn again". 

"Yeah okay", he quickly turned around, talking a shot straight away without worrying about making it, before walking up behind you.

"Hey, where are you going?" 

You turned to look at him over your shoulder "Just talking a shower"

He caught up to you, adjusting his pace to walk along side you, "Do you need any help?"

You looked at him with a questioning smile, "Do I need any help showering?"

He stopped, "Oh.. no.. sorry I meant.."

You looked over your shoulder again, seeing the guys trying to get his attention again, before looking back to him. His cheekes were blushed and his mouth was moving without forming any actuall words. "I think they need you again, lover". You kept walking to your room, not looking back to see how he reacted to your line.

You got out of the shower and decided to put on a new dry bikini and some soft shorts and a tank top over it. You went up to meet the cast again and Anthony and Ian waved you over to the ping pong table and the camera started rolling.

Spencer, dressed in his judge attire, holding up a ping pong ball to explain the rules once again."We are once again bringing back an old smosh summer games favorite, PAINPONG. It's just like regular ping pong exept for when you score a point, your opponent needs to lift up their shirt and let you take a shot at their body, if you make it, you get your point." He looked around at all of you, "Got it?"

Angela shook her head, "no, actually, can you say that again?"

Spencer at her, "Frankly, no"

 As pairs were decided, Ian and Anthony stepped up first, their match quickly turning chaotic. Ian served the ball with a dramatic flourish, only for it to veer wildly off course. Anthony attempted a heroic dive to return it, crashing into the side of the table instead. Laughter erupted from the spectators.

"Nice one, Ian!" Shayne called out, clapping.

Undeterred, Ian managed to regain control and hit a solid shot, sending the ball skimming over the net. Anthony, with a look of fierce determination, swung his paddle with all his might, missing entirely and spinning in place. The crowd roared with laughter, Spencer shaking his head in mock disapproval.

"Focus, Anthony!" Spencer called, striking a gavel-like pose. "Order on the ping-pong court!"

"It's not a court" Chanse muttered.

On the next serve, Ian hit the ball with precision, and it grazed the table's edge, earning him a point. With a triumphant grin, he picked up the ball and readied himself to take the shot at Anthony’s body. Anthony, shirt pulled over his head, braced himself for impact.

Ian aimed carefully and shot the ball directly on Anthonys bellybutton, causing Anthony to yelp and dance comically in protest.

"Ow, my body! I’m down!" Anthony exclaimed, staggering back theatrically. The group burst into laughter, cheering Ian on.

"Point to Ian!" Spencer announced, adopting a stern judge's tone. 

Ian grinned, bowing to the audience. "Thank you, thank you. I’ll be here all week."

The match concluded with Ian as the winner.

Amanda and Courtney faced off next, with an intense match filled with laughter and competitive spirit, ending with Amandas precise aim clinching victory.  Shayne and Noah followed, their game was high-energy and entertaining, but Shayne's powerful serves ultimately led him to triumph.

Keith and Damien were next. Despite his usual skill, Damien seemed off his game. His focus kept shifting to where you and Trevor were sitting, chatting and laughing together. Trevor leaned in closer, whispering something that made you giggle and playfully nudge him. The sight of you being so affectionate with Trevor seemed to throw Damien off.

Keith took full advantage of Damien's distraction. His quick reflexes and precise shots put Damien on the defensive. With each point Keith scored, Damien's frustration seemed to grow.

At one point, Damien's gaze lingered on you and Trevor as you shared an animated conversation, completely missing Keith's serve. The ball zipped past him, and Spencer, dressed as the judge, called out the score with a dramatic flourish. "Point to Keith"

The other cast members noticed and Ian called out, "Come on, Damien! We need this win!" But it was no use. Keith’s consistent play and Damien’s wandering attention led to Keith winning the match.

With the score now tied, the final match between you and Trevor would decide the overall winner.

"Alright, Y/n and Trevor, you're up next. Everything depends on this moment" Spencer announced, gesturing for you and Trevor to take your positions.

Amanda laughed, "that's a bit intense dude"

Trevor approached you with a sly grin as you prepared to face off. "Alright, Y/n, you ready to play? I'm so gonna get that shirt off you," he teased with a wink.

You rolled your eyes playfully, adjusting your stance. "That'll be the first time you get a lady to take her top off," you retorted, putting your game face on.

The group erupted into laughter and cheers, enjoying the competitive yet playful digs. Damien, though joining in the laughter, couldn't completely hide his disappointment as he watched you interact with Trevor.

Spencer blew his whistle, signaling the start of your match. The game went back and forth, with Trevor making daring shots and you somehow hitting them expertly. Ian, as team captain, watched intently, offering occasional words of encouragement and strategizing with the others.

"Keep your eye on the ball, Y/n! You got this!" Ian shouted, his voice filled with enthusiasm.

"Whose ball, Spencers?" You quickly responded before hitting the ball back at Trevor.

Spencer, true to his judge persona, interjected "Objection"

You were to busy giggling with the others when the ball returned to you. "Sustained, point for Trevor" Spencer announced when Trevor managed to hit your stomach, earning a point.

Chanse raised his eyebrow, "sustained?"

The crowd cheered and jeered, with Trevors teammates rooting loudly for him. "That's it, Trevor. Do it for the seamen!"  Keith shouted. While your teammates, led by Ian, chanted "peg those legs, peg those legs."

As the match progressed, Trevor managed to get a few body shots in, one grazed your breast, causing a red mark to appear. You winced slightly but brushed it off with a laugh.

"Careful there, Trevor, you're gonna get this video demonetized," you quipped, earning chuckles from the onlookers.

Damien, leaning against the nearby railing, watched with a growing sense of poutiness. "Hey, be careful with my partner there, bud," he called out with a playful grin, though his tone carried a hint of protectiveness.

Trevor's determination paid off, and he managed to win a few points. "Alright, Y/n, it's time to surrender." Trevor said with a grin, sending another shot your way.

You hit the ball back, "hey, watch it! You're just jealous of my ping pong skills," you teased back, flashing a smirk.

Damien rolled his eyes playfully at your remark, but beneath his playful facade, you could sense his subtle discomfort. He seemed almost annoyed, was it just because you were losing? Or is he actually getting a little jealous watching you laugh with someone other than himself?

Spencer, playing up his judge role, added, "Another point for Trevor! The defendant scores again!"

Amanda interjected, "You can't just say stuff that makes no sense, like how is he a defendant?"

The game continued with Trevor and you exchanging playful banter and shots. Occasionally, one of you would win a point but miss the other's body, adding to the tension and excitement. Finally, Trevor managed to hit a shot squarely on your chest, causing a loud cheer from his teammates.

"Ey, boob shot!" Spencer exclaimed, high-fiving him.

You rubbed the spot where the ping pong ball hit, pretending to pout. "Alright, you earned it this time," you conceded with a grin.

After the intense match of Pain Pong, where 'The seamen' once again emerged victorious, Ian and Anthony adjusted the points, 2-0.

Later the cast gathered for dinner in the ship's dining area. Trevor gestured for you to sit beside him and Spencer, a playful smirk on his face.

"Come on over, Y/n. Saved you a spot right here," Trevor said with a wink, patting the seat next to him.

You chuckled at Trevor's playful demeanor and slid into the seat beside him, ready to enjoy dinner. Spencer, still in his judge attire, joined in with a theatrical tone, "Ah, Y/n, I see you've chosen to dine with the winning team. Wise choice."

"Are you just always going to wear that?" You asked as you pulled out the chair.

Spencer looked up at you, his eyes fluttering. "It brings out my eyes."

As you settled in, you couldn't help but notice Damien across the table, who seemed to have saved a seat for you beside him after you had already sat down next to Trevor. His expression was hard to read, but you could swear there was a subtle hint of disappointment in his eyes. You had barely said a word to him all day, but you had been preoccupied. Now, you just wished you had sat next to him.

Ian started distributed vlog cameras to each ship. "Alright, everyone, let's capture some great moments for the vlogs during the time we're here. Get some behind-the-scenes footage and b-roll. And everyone," Ian grinned at Amanda and Angela who where huddled together, "make sure you all record some cute moments together."

Trevor leaned in closer with a mischievous grin, his voice low. ""Any ideas for your vlog footage?"

You rolled your eyes playfully, casting a quick glance at Damien, who seemed momentarily distracted by his food. "Oh, I'm sure Damien and I can come up with something."

Trevor chuckled, "Just don't make it too hard for me and Arasha to top, okay?".

Anthony held up one of the cameras, "okay guys, let's just do a toast for the video, the sound dosen't matter, let's just make it look natural.

As the recording started, Noah piped up holding up his glass to start off the toast, " I feel safe knowing that I can be here, be myself, without the presence of a camera.

Tommy interjected, " yeah absolutely, because there is nobody filming right now." He looked directly into the camera lens.

Chance clinked his glass against Tommys, " It really feels amazing"

You lifted you glass aswell, "cheers my deer friends"

Spencer stood up " cheers, now.. now we cheers!" He coughed, Cheers, this is not staged"

Anthony shook his head at you all and looked over to Ian who was giggling. Everybody laughed as Ian patted Anthony on the shoulder.

As the dinner progressed, Trevor kept up his playful banter, occasionally making witty remarks that had you laughing along. Meanwhile, Damien remained quieter than usual, his gaze occasionally drifting over to where you and Trevor were seated. You felt the discomfort in your back returning, and Courtney noticed your subtle grimace.

"Hey, Is your back still bothering you y/n?" Courtney asked, her concern evident.

You squirmed in your seat, "yeah, it's better though"

Shayne turned over to you, " You know, we took the mattress from the top bunk and put it on the bottom. It's so much more comfortable," 

Damien, who had been relatively quiet, suddenly spoke up, rubbing his eyes. "I'm feeling a bit tired. I think I'll head to bed early tonight."

Courtney raised an eyebrow, exchanging a knowing look with Shayne. "This early? What's up with that, Damien?"

Damien shrugged nonchalantly. "Just tired, that's all."

You noticed Damien's subdued mood and wished you could just lean over to him to make sure everything was okay.

As the evening wore on, you couldn't shake the feeling that Damien had been distant all day, his demeanor hinting at something more than just fatigue. You finnished up your food and excused yourself to go and check on him. 

Inside, Damien stood by the bunk beds, clad only in a towel, clearly caught off guard by your sudden entrance. His wet hair glistened in the dim cabin light, and you couldn't help but notice how good he looked right now, still glistening from a recent shower. The droplets of water accentuating his  biceps and making his skin shimmer in the low light. Just one hand on the towel, without that hand he would be completely naked. It was the first time you had seen him like this, and it sent a slight flutter through your chest.

"Oh, hey," Damien said, his voice breaking the silence, trying to sound casual despite his surprise.

"Hi," you replied softly, trying to gather your thoughts as you took in the sight of him. "I noticed you seemed off tonight. Are you okay?"

Damien hesitated, his gaze flickering away briefly before meeting yours. "Yeah, just... tired, I guess."

You closed the door behind you, stepping further into the room, the tension palpable in the air. "Is there something else bothering you?"

He shook his head and some water flew from his hair to his chest, he looked sad. You went up to him and gave him a hug. One of his hands went up to the back of your neck.

" You know I would hug you back completely but I only have one free hand" he said softly against your ear.

" What so you, oh" you answered as you realised that he still had to hold his towel up. "I'm sorry" you said creating some distance but still holding your hands  behind his neck. " I probably shouldn't be hugging you while you're practically naked"

"I don't mind" he quickly responded " you know, in a.." he looked up as he tried to find the words "So, how's your back holding up?" he asked, changing the subject.

You chuckled, somewhat grateful for the shift in tone. You backed away and started looking through your suitcase for something to wear to bed. "Still bothering me a bit."

He glanced toward the bunk beds, his smile a bit hesitant. "Uh, so... Shayne and Courtney swapped the mattresses. I heard it’s supposed to be more comfortable. Maybe, um, we could try that too?"

You raised an eyebrow teasingly. "Are you suggesting we share a bunk?"

He looked down, "only, you know, if you want to. For your back of course."

"Okay.. but maybe we keep this of the vlogs, it could look suspicious". You winked at him as you grabbed a big t-shirt to sleep in. "Can you turn around for a sec? I have to change"

He smiled at you before turning around to face the porthole, "got it".

You started to undress, even though he couldn't see you, it still felt intimate somehow. You pulled your shirt over your head, let your shorts fall to the floor. You could hear him take a deep breath at the sound of your clothing hitting the floor. You put on a t-shirt, it was short, maybe a little bit to short. You tucked your hair behind your ear, "you can turn back around now".

As he turned around his eyes appeared to do a quick scan of your body before settling on your eyes, " I guess it's your turn to turn around". You complied, letting your hands tug at the bottom on you shirt as you faced the door. You heard towel unraveling and he rummaged through his things. "Ehm, I think you have my pants there infront of you" he said.

You looked down, they were hanging on a chair in front of you. " Yeah" you grabbed them and tried to hand them to his without looking, "where are you?"

He put one hand on your waist and used the other to grab the pants from your hand "right here."

You could feel your body flinch at the sudden contact. He's naked behind you, a part of you just wanted to turn around and take him in, but you couldn't. He let go and got dressed before tapping you on the shoulder to signal that it was clear to turn around. He grabbed the mattress from the top bunk and slid it in the bottom.

He got in the bunk and slid under the covers. He wore a pair of pyjama pants and you a t-shirt, together you made one fully clothed person but like this, it felt a bit intimate crawling in bed together. You followed suit, instantly feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. You were face to face, the bed was small so there was no way to adjust yourselfs so you weren't touching.

"So, so what was up today?" You finally asked him.

He licked his upper lip and closed his eyes for a second, " I just felt a bit.. disappointed"

You made eye contact with him, " Was it because I lost?" You questioned.

Damien shook his head in response and let out a small laugh, " God no, do you think I actually care about that? No it was just.. I wanted to hang out with you more. I mean we had a good time yesterday, and this morning, right?"

You smiled back at him, putting your hand on his shoulder. " Of course we did, we always do, I always enjoy spending time with you"

He pursed his lips, " You know everybody just seems to swarm around you, it's not that easy to get time with you.

You rested your head on the pillow and closed your eyes, "well you have me tonight and every night."

He poked you in your side " Oh I have you every night, huh?" He grinned.

You opened you eyes slightly, "you know what I mean."

You turned around to sleep and felt his hot breath against your neck. Your body instinctively pushed up against him as you felt a shiver go through it. " I'm sorry Damien..I"

"You're fine" he reassured, "it's a small bed, we're bound to make contact at some point."

" Yeah, I guess so. I think it's just, you feel so warm"

He sensed your shiver. "You feel cold," he said, concern in his voice.

You inched closer, feeling the heat of his body. "I guess that's perfect," you whispered, a hint of a smile on your lips.

"It feels perfect," he murmured, his voice filled with warmth and care.

"Goodnight lover"

"Goodnight lover"

[juyeonszn]

PARTY O’CLOCK

PAIRING choi chanhee x f!reader

WORD COUNT 5.39k

GENRES fluff ﹒smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, tau beta zeta frat treasurer!chanhee, reader is a stereotypical party girl, she’s also an astronomy major, mentions of alcohol, i’m pretty sure everyone makes a cameo at some point, kevin moon playing matchmaker, we escalate a little fast so, intense making out, marking, vaginal fingering, brat tamer!chanhee, dom!chanhee, lowkey pussy job for like 1 second, nipple play? kinda?, unprotected sex, wall sex, missionary, multiple orgasms, creampie (yk… the usual), overstimulation

SUMMARY in spite of being a frat boy himself, chanhee could never actually see himself enjoying the luxuries of the title. besides, how could he with all the responsibilities of being treasurer? enter you and your carefree spirit and chanhee’s got a real big problem on his hands.

MORE … don’t yell at me PLEASE. i know this is 2 days overdue. I KNOW I KNOW. i’ve been so busy these past couple days and my time management is ass we already know this. BUT IM HERE AND SHES FINISHED AND ITS CHRISTMAS EVE SO??? 🙏🙏😍 anyways. i hope u guys enjoy i had a fun time writing this. i’m a firm believer in dom chanhee 😋 if u liked this pls don’t forget to reblog!

SERIES MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri @deoboyznet @cloverdaisies @vernyangel @ericlvr

TAGLIST @millksea

“Who’s that?”

The question comes out before you can even stop it, eyes focused on a guy sitting on one of the couches in the living room, complete disinterest all over his face. He’s pretty. Prettier than any guy you’ve ever seen. But he also looks like he’d rather be anywhere else than at this party.

“Who?” Your friend Heejin asks, following your gaze.

She finds out pretty quickly, especially because of how intense your stare is. She racks her brain for his name, sure it’s somewhere in her catalog of the student body. Heejin was the kind of person who knew everyone even if she didn’t exactly know them personally. She was both sociable and obsessed with gossip, sticking her nose in the business of those around her.

“Ah! That’s Choi Chanhee,” she nods, index finger tapping her chin. “He’s the Tau Beta Zeta treasurer actually. That’s probably why he looks like he wants to kill himself. Dude doesn’t really want to be here, but fraternity brothers are required to attend every party.”

She’s right, it appears, when you see some of the members you do recognize make their way over to bother him. He definitely does not look like the fraternity type, but you guess it also makes sense in a way. Maybe he needed an extracurricular or something that would be nice on his resume.

It’s hard for you to enjoy yourself for the rest of the night, too concentrated on the treasurer who’s lips stay pressed into a frown the entire time. You try to take shots with Heejin, but your eyes gravitate back to the sofa. Ji Changmin and his girlfriend even convinced the two of you to play them in beer pong. (Worst mistake you’ve ever made. You sucked at beer pong.) You finally draw the line at a game of Rage Cage, when you strategically get placed between Lee Juyeon and Heejin, arguably the best drinkers at the function.

Everyone laughs at you when you take a step back and recall your decision to join. And just as you suspected, you end up back in the living room, right where you wanted. Chanhee hasn’t moved from his spot, occasionally taking sips of whatever he’s drinking and scrolling through his phone.

You remember when that was Jacob Bae’s thing to do, and then he went and got himself a girlfriend. Perhaps that’s what Chanhee needed to do. A girlfriend was a little bit of a stretch, but someone to help him loosen up at these things was plausible. Girls weren’t even trying to hit on him left and right like they usually did with the Tau Beta Zeta boys, which was even more surprising considering most of them had their own partners now. Desperation was an ugly look on the university female, you know.

Which is exactly why you don’t make any moves that night.

Initially, you think you’ll wait a week. You happen to see him on campus a few times. The first time is in the library studying with some headphones on, in his element. The second time is in the cafe on campus, again, doing coursework with the intention of being left alone. Then it’s when you’re leaving your Fundamentals of Astronomy lecture, walking to one of his own classes. In your head, you’re being tested, like a dog with a bone being dangled in front of its face. It’s tortuous, wanting to go up to him and introduce yourself, but you don’t do it.

Heejin “drags” you to another TBZ party the following Friday and you put extra effort into your outfit. You walk in with the hopes to sweep him off of his feet, strutting into the fraternity house with a confidence that throws you off. Just when you’re getting ready to walk up to him, Kim Sunwoo intercepts and you backtrack. That ruins any of the lingering self-assurance in your system. So you push things back another week.

The next time you plan on striking, you and Heejin had said you’d meet at the party since she had something to do prior. You arrive at around 11 PM, prepared to shoot your shot and score. The kitchen is the first place you go, concocting yourself a drink that doesn’t get you trashed, but provides enough liquid courage. Then Heejin texts that her project partners wanted to grab food and she wasn’t going to make it. The thought of being alone without moral support effectively kills your mood, so you only stay for another hour or so before leaving.

It’s annoying, really. Every single time you attempt to set your plan into motion, something has to interrupt and mess things up for you.

This is your dilemma for roughly every weekend for a whole month. By the time you know it, it’s midterm season and you’re too stressed out over exams to think about Choi Chanhee. Divine intervention was a crazy concept, so maybe it was a blessing in disguise. Maybe this was your sign to just call it quits and give up on your weird fantasy of being the girl who charmed him.

“Do you wanna go to the TBZ party Saturday? We can celebrate finishing these stupid fucking exams and just relax for another couple months before we have to worry about finals.” Heejin asks through a mouthful of instant ramyeon. You sigh.

“Sure, whatever.” Your lips purse, pushing around your own food. She raises an eyebrow, tilting her head to the side in confusion.

“What the hell happened to you? You were jumping for joy when it came to going to them all semester, but now that I want to get shitfaced, you don’t seem all that excited.” She puts her chopsticks down, narrowing her eyes at you from across the table. You shrug.

“I don’t know,” you rest your cheek on your palm, huffing. “I guess I’m not really in the party mood anymore.”

“Bullshit,” she scoffs. “You’re the girl everyone thinks of when they talk about the typical university party girl. There must be a reason you’re suddenly Miss Debbie Downer.”

You could just tell her the truth, tell her about your delusions and the need to be different. As your roommate and best friend, she wasn’t at liberty to judge you. But this was so unlike you, so you knew she would anyway. It was out of character for you to be this enthralled by a man, let alone a stranger you’ve never spoken a word to. In fact it’s even thrown you for a loop, this mental break giving you clarity about your recent actions.

“That time I asked you who Choi Chanhee was,” you start after some silence. “I thought about going up to him and finding out why he’s so uptight. I sorta wanted to be in a ‘not like other girls’ situation. But whenever I wanted to swoop in, something always interfered. And now I’m just over it.”

“Y/N. You cannot be serious,” Heejin gawks at you like you’ve grown a second head. “Chanhee’s very picky about the girls he talks to. I could probably name on a hand the ones who’ve successfully snuck their way into his pants. He has specific taste, too; pretty ones who know when to shut their mouths.”

Your jaw drops, because what the fuck? He’s not a raging virgin with that personality? No wonder there wasn’t a line of single ladies attempting to land in his bed. They all knew they didn’t stand a chance. It kind of encourages you to resume your mission. You were never one to back down from a challenge.

“In that case…” A mischievous glint sparkles in your eye.

“Good god,” she rolls her own. “I’m warning you now, I highly doubt this will end in your favor.”

“You know me, Heejin. I never take no for an answer.”

It’s the day before the party and you’re walking out of your last midterm exam, a new light in your eyes now that you’re somewhat free. You step into the quad with your arms stretched above your head, a yawn pushing through your lips. You were long overdue for a good nap.

“Y/N!”

You whip around to find Kevin Moon from your Music Appreciation class stalking towards you. Part of you wants to pretend you’d never heard him and keep walking, drained of energy after that Intro to Astrophysics exam you’d just taken. Your brain felt like mush at this point. But you were kind, and you would’ve just felt bad about ignoring him anyways.

Kevin catches up to you rather quickly, hands hidden inside of his hoodie pockets. He lets out a sigh, both of you watching the puff of air that forms in front of him. “You’re going to the party tomorrow right?”

“I am…” You furrow your eyebrows, narrowing your eyes skeptically just a bit. “Why?”

“I have a huge favor to ask you.” He clasps his hands together, as if he wasn’t above begging on his hands and knees. You’re confused even further, because what could Kevin Moon possibly want from you?

“Okay… What is it?” The suspicion in your tone is so strong, that there’s no doubt he hasn’t noticed it by now. He holds the heel of his palm to his forehead.

“So, I was supposed to go with my friend Chanhee to try out that new outer space themed coffee place just outside of campus later today, but I got put on alcohol duty and I won’t be able to. I know you’re an Astronomy major so I figured that was something you’d like. Do you think you could go in my place?” He bats his eyelashes at you, like doing puppy dog eyes will convince you. You stare at him blankly. He wants you to do what?!

Meeting Choi Chanhee before the party tomorrow was not in your itinerary. Usually you were decent at adapting to changes in your plans, but this? This was more than just something minor that you could acclimate to. You had to psych yourself for hours in order to execute something of this caliber. Was Kevin Moon trying to send you into cardiac arrest?

“W-Wh— I mean— well—” You fumble over your words— something you never do— and Kevin breaks into a wide grin. You’re not sure if the blush across your face is from the cold weather nipping at it, or the thought of being put between a rock and a hard place.

“Perfect! I owe you one! Meet him in like an hour.” He pats your back like you’re one of the homies, not giving you any room for refutation. You actually feel like throwing up. How were you supposed to just show up without qualms?

Did he really expect you to just do this out of the goodness of your heart? No complaints stacked up to be hurled in his direction? You’d known Kevin Moon since freshman year orientation, but you didn’t think you were close enough for him to throw his dirty work at you. You can’t help but stand there dumbly as he walks away, a pep in his step that nearly has tick marks forming on your temple.

Okay, you know what? This is fine. This was totally fine. All you had to do was sip on some coffee, make some small talk, and then you could be on your way. It wasn’t that hard… was it?

You could throw on an act, pretend like you were one of those pretty girls who knew when to shut their mouths just like Heejin said he was into. You could give him a false glimpse into who you were and he wouldn’t know what you were really thinking of doing. The you of tomorrow would be a complete 180° turn around from the you of today, and Choi Chanhee would be the one groveling at your feet.

As soon as you walk into the cafe, your throat feels narrow, like it was closing in on you. You’re not sure why you’re so nervous. It’s not like Chanhee knew you. He couldn’t possibly be aware of your existence, much less of your little fascination with him.

You see him sitting at a table for two, the straw of his drink trapped between his lips. He sips leisurely as he scrolls through his phone, likely waiting on Kevin since you’re sure he left his friend in the dark. You pick at a thread on your sweater as you stop in front of him, raising your hand in an awkward wave. Chanhee glances up, confusion in his features at first and then it morphs into something else.

A laugh has to be held back when he chokes on his drink, slapping a hand over his mouth. He stands up quickly, wiping his palms on his pants.

“Hi,” your voice is small, so far off from your usual boldness. “I’m Y/N. Kevin sent me.”

“Fucking Kevin,” he curses underneath his breath, forcing a smile. “Um, please sit.”

You take the seat across from him, eyes flickering around the coffee shop to absorb your surroundings. It’s pretty, the stars and planets painted all over the walls and ceilings. Even the drinks had celestial themed names. Your friend was right, you would love it here. It was right up your alley.

“I— uh— Kevin had texted me and told me what to order for him, but I’m assuming he meant for you, because he never told me you were uh— that you were coming.” He scratches the back of his neck as a server leaves a drink in front of you.

“He stopped me in the quad after my midterm and asked if I could fill in for him. Something came up apparently.” You explain, humming in appreciation when you taste your coffee. “He remembered that I was an Astronomy major and figured I was his best bet I guess.”

Chanhee purses his lips, it’s almost like he knows something you don’t. He nods slowly. “Yeah… I’m sure that’s why…”

The impromptu formal introduction between you goes on without a hitch. It goes so well, that the time flies faster than you’d hoped it would. You get a tiny peek into Choi Chanhee and his life as the TBZ fraternity treasurer, but it’s not enough to satiate that unbearable curiosity that pricks at you.

Thankfully, you have tomorrow to do exactly that.

Heejin and yourself arrive at the Tau Beta Zeta party that Saturday with a goal in mind; Getting Choi Chanhee into bed with you.

Okay. Maybe that wasn’t actually the main objective, but it was definitely a side quest. What you really wanted to do was get him to let his guard down. Like your friend said previously, you were the stereotypical party girl. Had there been a picture beside the term in a dictionary, your pretty little face would be there, a red solo cup in your hand and all. If he wound up being entranced by your womanly witchery, that was on him.

Just like your first go at wooing him, you decided to pull out all the stops. You’d worn your shortest, tightest fitting dress despite the weather not necessarily permitting it. It was a cute black strapless number that you paired with some long heeled boots and a warm fuzzy jacket. You looked hotter than the sun itself, and deep down you’d feel extremely disappointed if he wasn’t falling to his knees for you by the end of the night.

A sense of déjà vu washes over you the moment you step through the front door into the jam packed fraternity house. The bumping early 2000s music and the thrumming of the bass gave you an adrenaline rush like no other. Nothing could waver your confidence this roundabout. He wouldn’t even know what hit him.

Before you sink your claws into the treasurer, you need to grab yourself a drink. You and Heejin take a shot from one of the various liquor bottles on the counter, serving yourselves each a cup of whatever Jacob Bae threw together for the party. It was kind of funny that the resident bartender for these things wasn’t even a member of the frat. You and your friend cheers to the night ahead of you, manifesting that things go your way.

It’s rather easy to catch his eye even in the bustling crowd of drunk college students, glued in his usual spot on one of the living room sofas. His dark hair falls into his eyes when he glances down at his phone to check the time, almost as if he was counting down the hours, the minutes until this party was over. He brushes it out of his face with his index finger at the same time he raises his cup to his mouth, knocking back the contents with a slight wince.

He espies your presence immediately after that, raking your figure with an unrecognizable look in his gaze. Though you were shivering upon entering the house, your skin felt hot to the touch now, the burning intensity of his stare melting away any nerves that might’ve been lingering. You pull your jacket off of your shoulders, tossing it over your forearm as you snake through the bodies sardined between the two of you.

“Hi,” you greet once you’re in front of him. “I’m Y/N.”

His lips quirk upwards and he stands so you’re no longer peering down at him. In spite of meeting each other yesterday, he decides to play along. “I’m Chanhee.”

“Well, Chanhee,” you bite your acrylic nail, not bothering to hide the unabashed desire in your expression and drinking in his appearance like a glass of water. “I couldn’t help but notice you from across the room. You looked bored and I was wondering if I could change that. I know how to have a good time.”

Chanhee thinks it’s cute, the amount of effort you’re putting into this little charade. He doesn’t doubt that you knew of his reputation when it came to sleeping with girls. He knows he’s a bit conscientious when it comes to this sort of thing, but that’s only because he doesn’t want to deal with being seen as someone who’s ran-through. (For an example, please see (No) Strings Attached™.)

However, you were different. Chanhee thought you were cute from the very first time he saw you, which happened to be at a Tau Beta Zeta party last semester. He knew you were friends with Kevin, so maybe it was on him for the delay of your union, but he’d grown a little tired of always making the first move. He’s somewhat grateful that you were the type of girl who set her sights on something and never backed down from it. You were headstrong and that was exactly what had him hooked.

Nevertheless, it would be a bit of an issue. The only part of the rumors surrounding the treasurer that was true, was the part about him preferring his partners to be on the quieter side. There was something about them following his every demand, kneeling at his beck and call, that lit a fire underneath him. The mouthier they were, the less he enjoyed himself. But for some reason, he doesn’t think it’ll bother him as much with you. In fact, he thinks he’ll have fun putting you in your place.

“You know, Y/N,” he pushes your hair over your bare shoulder, letting his thumb graze your warm skin with a small but conniving grin. “I’m not too sure you’ll be able to cure this boredom that’s been plaguing me. It depends on what you have in mind.”

You might cry. A strained groan stays stuck in your throat, fighting to inch its way out of you. Fuck this stupid party. Fuck your stupid idea. You had a new mission. You needed him now and you needed him bad.

Your lips are on his in a matter of seconds, rushed and desperate. You don’t have the strength in you to act like you weren’t just about ready to combust. The curve of a smile can be felt through the kiss, his hands coming to rest on your waist and dig into the fabric of your dress. Had this been any other guy, any other day even, you would’ve freaked out over the PDA. Right now, though, you’re too lost in the moment, too absorbed in the high that kissing Choi Chanhee is providing.

His mouth travels along your jaw and neck, finally snapping you back to reality. With shaky breathing and a wavering voice, you step back from him. “Don’t you want— don’t we need some privacy?”

He laughs like he’s on the inside of a joke you’re unaware of. “Oh, so now you care about privacy? You didn’t when you were trying to seduce me ten minutes ago.”

Your cheeks flush impossibly more, cowering into the space where his shoulder meets his collarbone. All that confidence and for what? He really could not wait another second to see you crumble beneath him.

“Too shy for me to fuck you in front of all these people, sweetheart?” He asks in your ear, leaving a gentle kiss on the lobe as he does so.

You’re dizzy, so dizzy you might faint in the middle of this living room. Who would’ve known that such a pretty boy had such a filthy mouth on him? He knows he’s got you right where he wants you when you fist the material of his shirt, the vibrations of a whine on his neck. It’s kind of comical how little it took for you to crack.

He hauls you away to what you assume is his bedroom, fingers caressing the inside of your wrist. You think maybe he’s all talk, that he’s actually a big softie who couldn’t hurt a fly. The way he’s careful with his touch and making sure he doesn’t lose you as you weave through the other party attendees. At least, that’s what you thought.

But then he’s slamming his door shut and pinning you against it face first. His lips return to their prior position, sucking in the plush skin on your throat and your shoulders. You can feel him pressed into your lower back, hard and ready for you. He doesn’t seem to pay much attention to it, instead trailing his fingers down your front and sneaking under your dress.

He bunches it up around your hips, middle and ring digits circling your clit through the lace of your panties. Everything is escalating too quickly for you to comprehend. You whimper into the wood of the door, drool beginning to pool in your mouth. You’re so needy that you’re salivating over the prospects of what’s to come.

“Want more, Chanhee,” your words are muffled, but he understands you nonetheless.

“You want more?” He pouts, a false tone of sympathy in his voice. “Poor you, asking for something you can’t even handle.”

You squirm, raising your leg in an attempt to reach a different angle. The pads of his fingers apply an increased pressure on your clit, the friction caused by your underwear skyrocketing your heart rate. You know he can feel the pulse when his lips reconnect to that sensitive area just under your jaw. Your back arches, still craving and yearning for additional touch.

His fingers slip into the waistband of your thong, collecting your arousal and using it as a lubricant to glide through your folds. He thrusts two of them in and out of your entrance, the heel of his palm rubbing up against your clit. You moan, louder this time. His free hand shoves the top of your dress down, groping and kneading your bare breast. You wanted more, he’ll give you more.

You’re a whining, squirrely mess, humping his hand like a bitch in heat. It’s hilarious, really. The way you wanted him begging, but the tables seemed to have turned, flipping it the other way around. He ensures that he leaves his mark on you, biting your skin with the intent to bruise. He doesn’t care if you looked like you were attacked by a vicious animal. If Chanhee was anything, he was possessive, wanting everyone to know what was his and not to get near it lest they wanted to keep their lives. What better way to stake his claim than on your body, where anyone could see?

He senses that you’re close to your release, your walls clenching around his fingers and sucking them in further. Most people would’ve been generous, making your orgasm smooth sailing. But Choi Chanhee was not like most people. That much is obvious when he adds a third finger, restraining himself from groaning at the feeling of your cunt constricting and contracting. The stretch has your stomach tying in knots, each one growing tighter and tighter until they just about untangle altogether.

You cum with a guttural groan, nearly convulsing in his hold, but he keeps you pressed to the surface of the door. He doesn’t stop his motions, fingers curling and uncurling like he was reaching for something inside of you. You push your ass into his crotch, another whine escaping your lips when you feel his cock impressing into it. He bites his tongue to refrain from evoking a sound.

The poised nature of your regular personality makes a comeback, one of your hands cupping the side of his face. You pant as you speak, rasping slightly after all the moaning you just did. “Can you fuck me for real now?”

Chanhee forces your underwear down your legs roughly, kicking them out of the way once they hit the floor. “You’re such a goddamn brat. Nothing is ever enough for you is it?” You can hear rustling behind you, the unbuttoning of pants and the discarding of his shirt. And then you feel him. God, you might die. He’s flush between your lower lips, his teeth grazing your earlobe. “Gonna have to fuck you until you learn your place, don’t I?”

He squeezes your cheeks together with his thumb and forefinger, relishing in the adorable pout it forms. All you can do is nod, eyes fluttering shut when he finally slides inside of you. The weight of him sits heavy in your cunt, the singular drive of his hips causing your clit to bump into the door. It sends a rippled shockwave throughout your body, a voluminous moan breaching past your lips. Chanhee rests his forehead on your shoulder, staying still for a moment to gather himself.

It’s not long before he’s pistoning his cock into your pussy like a sword being sheathed and unsheathed. You claw at the wall as a means of grounding yourself, inconsistently paced cries and mewls of pleasure bouncing around the room. He hikes up your leg higher, palming at your tits so he can override your senses any way he can. You’re so lightheaded and tears have begun to spring at the corners of your eyes. It feels too good.

“O-Oh my god, you’re s-so— f-fuck Chanhee,” you babble, gasping for air as he continuously punches it out of you with every inch his cock buries into you.

He’s enjoying himself too much, loving how fucked out you look. He’s reduced you to an incoherent state of being. You curve your back a bit more for him, allowing the depth at which he slips in you to go further.

Unfortunately for you, it doesn’t take much to wind you back up to that summit from previously. You’re on the brink of your second orgasm, your chest heating up and your abdomen contracting. He doesn’t let up, pinching and thumbing at a peaked nipple to egg on your release. This one feels a lot stronger than the first, your knees nearly giving out on you.

“C’mon sweetheart, that’s it,” he coaxes, stroking your hair from your face.

Chanhee fucks you through it, allotting space for you to recover before he’s knocking you onto his bed. He removes your dress entirely and rubs up and down your thighs. The exhaustion is already beginning to settle in, but you realize that he hasn’t finished not once and you’d be hitting your third at this point. You’re overstimulated and your body aches all over, but you push through.

He finds your entrance again, pressing into your cunt with more ease. You whine, smushing your cheek into the mattress. Your toes curl and you fist at the sheets, eyes all but rolling to the back of your head where you see white spots and stars coating your vision. He grips your hips to hold you still, starting to rock back into your pussy with practiced aggression. He’s carnal with his movements, but it’s careful, almost like he doesn’t really want to hurt you.

“It’s too much—“ you interrupt yourself with a wail, the tears from earlier tracking along the sides of your face.

“I’ve fucked you stupid, haven’t I? Thought I was done with you?” He strains, folding over so he can kiss the skin of your collarbone and trail up to your mouth. His lips brush yours when he talks, teasing you as if he hadn’t already fucked you within an inch of your life. “Do you think I’m having fun yet?”

Your cunt sucks him in like a vacuum, your volume rising the closer you get to what you hope is your last orgasm of the night. What you needed was the best sleep ever after this. Your brain can barely form sentences, and you struggle to give him a proper response. “Y-Yes, Cha-Chanhee— oh god— s-so much fun,”

Your breath catches in your throat when that familiar sensation reappears. Chanhee is in his own world, focused on chasing his own release. His nails dig into the fat of your thighs, thrusts becoming deeper and slower. You reach between the two of you to swipe at your clit with your middle and ring fingers, the extra stimulation tipping you over that sweet edge.

Your orgasm crests upon you with so much intensity that you can’t even make a sound. If you do, it’s so far away from you that you don’t hear it. The uncontrollable fluttering of your walls sets Chanhee’s into action, his hips stuttering with a groan that doesn’t meet your ears. He fills you up with enough cum that it begins to spill out of you in spite of his cock still plugged inside your cunt. You both take a moment to recollect your bearings, chests clashing with each rise and fall from your breathing.

After what feels like forever, he pulls out and collapses on the bed beside you, the back of his hand thrown over his forehead.

“Holy shit— I mean— wow I really— I really didn’t think you were so…” You don’t finish your thought, head still stuck on the actions you’d committed prior.

“It’s always the quiet ones.” Chanhee shrugs, sighing dramatically.

“You are not quiet,” you turn your head to give him a pointed look. “But, I’m not complaining. I got my insides rearranged six ways to Sunday. Who’s the real winner here?”

“Me, actually,” he says, his thumb caressing your cheekbone. “I’ve had the longer crush.”

“Y-You— huh?!” Your eyes practically bulge out of your head, comically wide like a deer’s caught in headlights. He laughs at your expression.

“I’ve been wanting to make a move on you since last semester,” he admits. “But I was kinda… discouraged? I guess? I feel like I’m the one who puts in too much effort all the time, with everything that I do. I wanted to see if maybe someone would do the same for me. I’m just lucky that it worked out in my favor.”

Your bottom lip juts out and you flip over to peck the tip of his nose tenderly. “Choi Chanhee, you’re extremely lucky. I almost gave up on you, like, a couple days ago.”

Chanhee’s laughter grows and he kisses you softly. “Well, I’m glad that you didn’t. Now I can take you on a real date to that space cafe. Not one that Kevin forced on us.”

“I like the sound of that.” You smile, cuddling into his side.

© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[odyssean-flower]

The Winding Path of Fate Chapter 12 first part

honestly im not even gonna say when the chapter is gonna be ready anymore...it'll be done when it's done...

anyways here's the first part. It's unbetaed but hopefully it compels/entertains you in some way as I finish the chapter up

“My dear Iudex, are my eyes deceiving me, or is that a smile on your face?”

Neuvillette raised his gaze from the documents spread out before him. Furina was standing on the other side of his desk. Of course, he had heard her enter his office before she even spoke, but he was so used to her unannounced intrusions these days that he treated it as a part of his daily routine now. I only hope that she makes this quick. I have a rather heavy agenda today, and I would like to return home before dark.

Furina leaned over his desk, her heterochromatic eyes eagerly scanning the desk for some sort of incriminating evidence to grab onto. Of course, she found none. Neuvillette wasn’t so foolish that he would make such a careless mistake.

“Hmph, I didn’t know that paperwork could inspire such a joyous expression on one’s face. What a contrast you make with the Gestionnaires outside your door! You really must get out more.”

“Indeed, I have, thanks to your urging. I believe you’ve already read the note I left you.”

“Ah, yes, that sorry excuse for a note,” Furina sniffed. “‘Will be away for a day due to personal reasons.’ No mention of where you’re going or who you’ll be with.”

“I see no reason why I should have included either of those things. I followed all the necessary protocol for requesting leave, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

“Oh, I am. But Neuvillette, aren’t you getting tired of constantly having to avoid my questions and fend me off every single day? You know exactly what I want, why won’t you give it to me? Are you truly intending to keep doing this forever?”

“And you know very well that I will not change my position on this matter. There is no need for you to get involved in my marriage, nor do you have the right.”

Furina and Neuvillette glared at each other silently for a while. Throughout this week, she had constantly needled, badgered, and pestered him in an attempt to fish for any information about his day off, but he remained an immovable stone wall. He knew that revealing anything to her would only pour fuel on the fire, so to speak. Knowing her nature, he doubted she would let this go any time soon, but he could at least not give her any openings to pounce onto.

“No right to get involved in your marriage, huh,” Furina repeated, arching an eyebrow. “Don’t forget that you have me to thank for it. Would you have ever even considered marrying this woman if it weren’t for me?”

Neuvillette did not say anything. They both knew the answer to that question.

“Even so, I do not owe you anything,” he said with a firm tone that signaled the end of their talk. “Now then, Furina, allow me to get back to my work.”

“Fine,” Furina said with a toss of her head. “It looks like I’ll be visiting you again tomorrow.”

“Please do so during my coffee break.”

Furina spun on her heel and was about to stride away when she suddenly turned around again. “You know, Neuvillette, I just don’t understand why you won’t let me meet the person who clearly brought you so much joy.”

Neuvillette narrowed his eyes at her. “I believe we were done here?”

Furina put her hand to her heart and made an expression of exaggerated joy. “How heartless! I do hope your wife never sees this side of you.”

He watched her until she left his office and the doors closed behind her. Letting out a heavy sigh, his gaze drifted to the misty painting hanging at the side of his office, almost by instinct. This was also something that had also become a daily routine for him.

He wondered what the painter was doing now. Around this time, you were sure to be in the garden, devoting all your attention to the sunflowers.

Were you waiting for him to come home? He hoped you weren’t. It looked like he would be returning late today. Well, to be honest, he usually returned home late at night, but now with you as his wife, it would be terribly uncouth of him as your husband to come home too late. In addition, he found that his willingness to work into the late hours had decreased considerably. Still, there were times when he truly had no other choice.  

But, there was a small part of him that would very much like it if you did wait for him.

Neuvillette did not know what to make of this new development in his feelings. He examined it, turning it over in his head as one would do with a particularly interesting-looking rock or seashell, then put it away for later. He needed to concentrate on getting through the stack of paperwork on his desk if he wanted to leave work earlier.

But before that…

His hand moved to his desk drawer, which contained a recently-delivered envelope. It was a stroke of good fortune that it had been delivered before Furina’s visit. He’d never hear the end of that if she saw its contents.

He opened the envelope and took out a stack of newly-developed photos. He flipped through them until he reached the photo of a young woman standing stiffly in front of an azure-blue willow tree. His finger idly stroked the edge of the picture. The colors were so vivid and crisp that he felt as though he could reach into the photo and touch the ribbon of your hat or the soft fabric of your sleeve.

It was strange. You were not a particularly cheerful or spirited person, but when he was with you, his heart felt lighter, freer. Not to the extent of forgetting himself or his responsibilities, of course, but… Was this what Furina meant by the “joys of matrimony”?

He couldn’t say he disliked it.

He carefully put the photos back in the envelope. What sort of face would you make when he showed them to you? Or when he showed you the other surprise he had for you? Would you smile at him once again? Would you take his hand in yours? A feeling of anticipation filled his heart. Unconsciously, his fingers brushed against his cheek.

The sunflowers were coming along nicely. They now reached the height of your hip and formed small, tightly closed buds. There were no yellow petals peeking through yet, but you were confident that they would appear in the coming weeks.

You brushed your fingers against the leaves. They were the size of your palm now. You could see little bug bites dotting them. Perhaps you should ask Marie if there were any pesticides on hand.

It was evening now, though the sun was still in the sky. Neuvillette should be back by now. Maybe he had a lot of work today? You couldn’t help but feel a sting of disappointment. You had been looking forward to showing him the buds. Was Furina pestering him again?

It had been a week since the date. Neuvillette had sent the photos out to be developed, and you would be getting them today. You were a bit excited to see them.  I don’t think I’ve ever taken so many pictures in my life.

After you finished taking the last measurements, you returned to the house and went up to your room. Your eyes automatically went to the plump azure flower tucked into a vase on your desk. It brought a vibrant splash of color to your elegant but sparse room, and you liked looking at it. It gave you a sense of pleasure. You wondered where Neuvillette put his flower.

I wonder if it will deflate like a balloon if I stuck a pin into the middle, you thought as you sniffed the flower’s cool fragrance. That would make it easier to press, wouldn’t it?

Perhaps it was because you talked about pressing flowers on the date, but it had been on your mind lately. Your fingers itched for your old flower press, sitting in your closet back home. The lily would look striking against a white page. If only you picked some of those wildflowers you had seen on Erinnyes and in Merusea Village... they could serve as accompaniment to the lily, which would obviously be the centerpiece, and a strand of blue leaves from the Weeping Willow could be the finishing touch, forming a wreath that framed everything neatly. It would be a beautiful memento of one of the most beautiful days in your life.

It was strange. Even though your days went on like usual after the date, you felt a little different. A little lighter. Reinvigorated, if you had to describe it in a single word. Your childhood hobbies, which you once considered frivolous and backwards, beckoned to you once more.

For a long time now, you felt like you were barely holding yourself up by the sheer force of will, like a sunflower with shallow roots and a too-heavy head, in need of a support to stand tall and erect. Well, now you did have one.

I guess this is what marriage all about. Two people supporting each other for life. Although, it is rather one-sided in our case.

You bit your lip. It was irrational, you knew. Neuvillette was the powerful and respected Iudex, while you were an impoverished baron’s daughter from the countryside. Your presence in his house was proof of just how much more you relied on him than the other way around. You knew that Neuvillette didn’t expect anything from you, which only made you even more determined to do something for him.

You despised the feeling of owing someone. You hated having to completely depend on someone. That was one of the many reasons why you chose your career path.

But more than that…

Neuvillette’s distraught face flashed through your mind. Though you only saw it once, you never wanted to see that look on his face again.

Neuvillette finally returned home by the time the sky was dark. You had already eaten dinner without him and was reading in the parlor when you heard the front door open.

“Neuvillette,” you called out to him as you went into the foyer. “You came home so late. Did something happen?”

As you approached him, you thought that he looked a bit fatigued, but the tiredness in his face seemed to vanish as he fixed his eyes on you.

“Madame,” he greeted you. “My apologies for worrying you. I had a rather busy agenda today. I hope you’ve already eaten dinner?”

“I have. But have you eaten as well? If not, I can warm up the leftovers for you, or I can ask Marie to cook something fresh if that’s what you prefer.”

“No need for that. I’ve already eaten. But there is something else I want to talk about,” Neuvillette paused. It took you a moment to realize that he was doing it for dramatic effect. So even he has that side to him...how cute, you thought, trying to hide your smile. “I was able to receive the developed photos today.”

He took out an envelope from his coat pocket and handed it to you. “They turned out quite well, I must say,” he added.

The envelope was thick and heavy. You must have taken more than a hundred photos.

You decided to look through them in the parlor. Neuvillette followed you, and the two of you sat side by side on the couch as you spread the photos out on the coffee table. Neuvillette was right, they did turn out well. You had been a bit worried that they might come out blurry or at odd angles, but overall, they all looked pretty good, considering the fact that you hadn’t used a Kamera in a long time.

“You have a very good eye for photography, Madame,” Neuvillette remarked as he picked up a photo of the Weeping Willow. “Have you considered pursuing a career in that field?”

“Oh, not at all. My old drawing teacher was much better at it than me, enough to make a living out of it, and she taught me a few tricks.”

“‘Was’? Do you mean...” Neuvillette trailed off.

“Yes. It was a few years ago.”

“Ah...I see. I'm sorry to hear that.”

There was a brief, awkward silence. Neuvillette looked as though he wanted to say something more. You would rather not deal with that, so your eyes roamed around the scattered photos on the table before they landed on something silver. “Oh, my pictures of you!” you said, leaning forward to grab them. “See, what did I tell you, Neuvillette. There’s nothing more picturesque than beautiful scenery and a handsome man.”

Neuvillette leaned closer towards you to examine the photos for himself. His hair brushed against your shoulder, and you could feel the heat of his body against your arm.  A thought suddenly struck you. If you turned your head right now, your lips would brush against his cheek in the same spot where you had kissed it before.

Inexplicably, your face turned warm at the thought. The back of your hand tingled.

Perhaps things didn’t quite remain the same after the date.

It truly had been a spur of the moment move. Your roiling emotions, aided by the instigation of the Melusines, had pushed you to do it.

Later that night, as you laid in bed, your mind replaying that scene over and over to an infuriating degree, you had rifled through all the emotions you had felt at that time. Embarrassment, disbelief, a strange sort of elation…

But the one emotion that had been missing no matter how hard you searched for it, was regret.

Overt acts of affection had never been your forte, but it seemed like the right thing to do at the time.

Well, cheek kisses don’t inherently mean anything significant, you had told yourself. Friends do it with each other all the time. And Neuvillette is my friend. A very dear friend. So it’s perfectly fine. Case closed.

Indeed, Neuvillette didn’t seem to look at you or treat you any differently after the fact, so why should you? No doubt he was used to receiving such acts of intimacy—most likely even more intimate—from people who were far more glamorous than you. A brief brush of lips against his cheek probably meant nothing to him.

As for the hand kiss, well, that was something that gentlemen like him did. It also didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t.

The thought that these kisses were all meaningless did sting a little bit, but considering the circumstances, you had no right to complain.

“I must confess that I do not see what makes these pictures any better than the ones you took of the scenery,” Neuvillette’s voice interrupted your thoughts. His eyes were fixed on the photo, so thankfully he didn’t notice your reddened cheeks. “Or of the Melusines, for that matter.”

“Well, even if you don’t appreciate them, I do. I’ll treat them like a family treasure.”

“A family treasure? That’s a bit excessive, is it not?”

“I don’t think so. These are pretty rare items, aren’t they?”

Since Neuvillette didn’t appear in public much, there were not many pictures of him outside of the rare interview and official events. Hmm, I wonder how much they’ll sell for? Not that I would ever do that, of course. …Well, maybe if I’m in dire financial straits. I’ll ask for Neuvillette’s permission beforehand if it ever comes to that.

You went through the remaining photos. Each one sparked a memory. The Weeping Willow, the sea, Merusea Village underwater—you really had been to all of those places. With Neuvillette, no less. The entirety of that day was only known to the two of you.

The days after your date had been so mundane and normal that you were half-convinced that it had all been a strange dream. Thoughts and memories were such mutable things, after all. Someone like you on a date with the Chief Justice? Not even in your wildest delusions would something like that ever happen. But these pictures were proof that it did.

You knew that you would probably think back on that day for the rest of your life, holding it close to your chest like a treasured gemstone and taking it out whenever times got tough. A sparkling memory of your youth that you would smile back fondly upon in your autumn years, a lone glimmering star in the dark that would inspire you move forward…

Wait, why am I getting so sappy and sentimental? Just because of a date? Ugh, come on now.

You glanced at Neuvillette, who was currently enjoying a glass of water (imported from Inazuma). You doubted that he felt the same way as you about the date. It was probably just like a drop of water in a vast ocean to him.

That thought pricked at you, but you chose to ignore it.

You sifted through the pictures until you came across a certain snapshot. Just as you were about to flip it over, a gloved finger pressed down against the photo, stopping you.

“This one is my favorite,” Neuvillette said. Once again, his face was right next to yours, but you couldn’t read his expression.

“Because you were the one who took it?”

“No,” he said, then turned his head towards you. “Because it’s of you.”

“Neuvillette…” you said after a short silence. You fidgeted with your reddened fingertips. “I don’t understand how you can say things like that with such a straight face.”

“Is it truly so strange?” Neuvillette looked perplexed. “I was simply saying my true feelings. And it is not as though you have refrained from such comments either.”

“You do have a point,” you conceded, although that still didn’t mean it didn’t catch you off guard. You turned your attention back to the photo of you. To be honest, it didn’t turn out half bad. Sure, you looked incredibly stiff and awkward and your hair was a mess and you had no idea what you were thinking when you matched that sweater with that skirt, but…it could have turned out worse.

“May I keep this photo?” Neuvillette asked.

“Of course, but what will you do with it? Surely you aren’t going to put it on your office desk or anything, right?”

“No, of course not. I would put it in a drawer, so I may take it out and look at it whenever I like.”

“Why would you want to do that?”

“Is it so wrong for a husband to want to look at a picture of his wife every once in a while? Many of the Palais staff also keep pictures of their loved ones on their desks. Why shouldn’t I?” Neuvillette paused for a little bit before adding, “And it would be one way for me to see your face more often, considering how I don’t get many chances of that during the day.”

“Hmm…very well, then,” you didn’t quite get why he would want to see more of your face, but if it made him happy, then you supposed there was nothing to complain about. Neuvillette is actually quite good at this kind of thing, you thought to yourself. Just imagine what it would be like when he gets married to someone he loves.

Now you really felt bad about your (hypothetical) future plans about selling Neuvillette’s photos. I’m an insensitive boor compared to him.

You reached the last of the photos. It was the one of you and Neuvillette standing in front of the sunset.

“You made two copies for the both of us,” you said as you looked at them. “How thoughtful.”

As you gazed at the pictures, you couldn’t help but feel a complex mixture of emotions. There was a surrealness to this photo that the others lacked. If this were a novel, this would be the point where you would wake up and return to reality after discovering something out of place in your life. No matter how you looked at it, you and Neuvillette were mismatched. Two people who were only brought together because of a weird quirk of fate.

But on the other hand…it was a beautiful photo. You had been somewhat worried that the two of you wouldn’t be centered in the frame, but it turned out well. The sunset made for a lovely backdrop. Even though both of you were looking very stiff, and neither of you were smiling.

You remembered that moment clearly. In those few minutes, you felt as light as a feather, like there was nothing tying you to the ground.

Would you ever feel that way again?

“I’m also very fond of this one,” Neuvillette said next to you. When you turned your head, you saw that he was not looking at the photos, but at you. It was then that you realized you were smiling. For some reason, you turned your head away.

“I just realized something,” you said, to cover up the awkward moment. “I’ve taken so many pictures, but I’ve got nowhere to put them all.”

“Ah, about that,” there was an excitement, subdued but present, in his voice. He sounded the same as he did when he introduced you to some new exotic variety of water. “I have a surprise for you. Please, come with me to my study.”

A surprise from Neuvillette? You had an inkling as to what it could be, but that didn’t stop you from putting all the photos back in the envelope and following him upstairs to his study, a domain you had yet to step into. It was a smaller version of his office at the Palais Mermonia, with its large desk, soft rugs, and tall bookshelves that lined the walls. There was also a fireplace here and a cozy-looking couch.

As Neuvillette went to take something out of a cabinet, you covertly examined the shelves. They were mainly filled with books on law, human psychology, history (most of which you’ve already read, having borrowed them from the library), and other similarly serious topics. Oddly enough, you spotted a few children’s picture books. Gifts from the Melusines? Or for entertaining them whenever they visit?

“Madame, here it is,” Neuvillette said, and you walked over to the desk, where there was a large, leather-bound album with metal corners.

“Oh, Neuvillette, you shouldn’t have!” you exclaimed, flipping through the album. There should be just enough space to put all the pictures from your date in it. You looked up to thank him, but was met with the sight of Neuvillette taking out yet another album from the cabinet. This one was wider, with a ribbon tied into a neat bow on the spine. Perhaps Neuvillette bought a second album, just in case the first one wouldn’t fit all of your pictures?

But, as though to dash all reasonable explanations, Neuvillette took out another album from the cabinet, then another. It seemed never-ending, this deluge of albums. After a while, it became sort of funny, like a comedy sketch. You watched, open-mouthed, as the desk became covered with albums of all shapes and sizes.

Finally, after the tenth one, the deluge stopped. Neuvillette looked at you expectantly. “Well, Madame, which one do you prefer?”

“Wait a minute, let me get this right,” you said, backing up a step and surveying the desk. “You bought all these albums just for me to choose one?”

“Yes, I did,” Neuvillette said, nodding as though this was a perfectly normal thing to do. Was this how the minds of the wealthy worked? It was beyond your comprehension. “I was unsure which one would be most to your liking, so I decided to buy them all.”

“Oh, Neuvillette, you really shouldn’t have…” you said. “This is too excessive. Why didn’t you ask me to come with you when you went shopping? And you know I’d like anything you picked out for me.”

“I wanted it to be a surprise…” Neuvillette said. He looked a bit deflated, and you felt bad.

“Can you return them?”

“It would be highly inconvenient for the shopkeeper if I did so,” Neuvillette said, then added in an abashed tone, “And I was told that all sales are final.”

“How unfortunate,” you looked down at the desk again. Was it possible for anyone to fill up all these albums in their lifetime? Maybe if they had a lifespan as long as Neuvillette’s. “Maybe they could make an exception for the Iudex?”

“I would rather not use my position in such a manner.”

“Well then, how about we give them away?”

“Give them away…” Neuvillette considered your words. “I-I suppose that could work… it is a reasonable idea. Yes, quite reasonable indeed.”

Neuvillette…if only you could see the look on your face right now. He looked like a kicked puppy. However, you decided to hold your tongue.

“Hmm, on second thought, it would be quite rude of me to give away presents from my generous husband,” you said. “I’ll keep them all. Thank you, Neuvillette.”

You patted his hand. He looked down at your hand on top of his, his eyes unreadable. He lightly brushed his fingers against your own.

“You need not force yourself to accept them if you do not want them,” he said quietly.

“But I do want them. They’re from you, after all. We’ll just have to take plenty more photos to get your money’s worth.”

“‘We?’”

“Yes, ‘we.’ Did you expect me to fill up these albums all on my own?”

“Certainly, it would be more efficient if we worked together,” Neuvillette nodded to himself. “Very well, then, Madame. I will assist you in this endeavour.”

With that settled, you decided to put the date photos in the first brown leather album. It had a vintage look to it that you liked.

“It’s getting late, Madame. You should be going to bed soon,” Neuvillette informed you.

“What about you?” Neuvillette didn’t seem to be making any moves to retire for the night just yet.

“There are a few more matters that I need to take care of, but do not worry, it won’t take very long.”

“Okay then,” you nodded, stepping towards the door. But just as you were about to leave the study, a thought suddenly struck you. “Oh, by the way, Neuvillette.”

“Yes, Madame?”

“Has Lady Furina been bothering you about…about me lately?”

Neuvillette blinked. He was silent for a moment before speaking. “She has. But it’s nothing for you to worry about. I’m quite used to handling her.”

“But…”

“There is no need to worry, Madame. She will never need to know about you,” Neuvillette’s tone was firm. “I will do my utmost to make sure it stays that way.”

“…Alright,” you said, but it wasn’t relief that flooded your heart. “Good night, Neuvillette.”

“Good night, Madame.”

You closed the study door quietly behind you.

[vernonioideae]

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 𝓐 𝓼𝓽𝓾𝓫𝓫𝓸𝓻𝓷 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽...

╱ albert wesker x reader, fluff, poor sick albert can't say no to his wife:( tbh i dont know what this is i was half conscious writing this god. anyways i believe in softie wesker🙏🏻 enjoy ⪨ ࣪ ׅ

"stop acting like im dying, im telling you it will pass. i can handle it." the harsh tone of yours husband's voice echoed in your head. lately, albert wesker has been feeling terrible. his whole body ached, he had a severe cough and obviously a runny nose. but in his head, albert wasn't weak. he couldn't show any sign of discomfort from all these things. he was a man after all, right? a tough, confident, brave human being that wasn't supposed to be so attached to showing any emotion.

in your eyes, his way of thinking was a bullshit. of course you loved him but sometimes he was too much. he wasn't a machine, but a real person having his own sensitivity that was hidden under his cold facade. you could see his deep hidden nature sometimes, especially when it came to you. he loved you deeply. the problem was that he just wasn't able to show it properly. but he was always trying for you no matter what.

"come on, albert... i can see you're in pain. just take one or two days off and let me take care of you." another problem about wesker was the fact that he overworked himself a lot. you knew he was a scientist at umbrella. this was all you knew about his job. you never really talked about it with him... you didn't know what was he exactly doing in his work, what he was researching, or other lab shit. it wasn't that you didn't care – of course you did. but after a long and exhausting day at work, wesker doesn't really want to talk about it. he always brushes off the topic by saying "as usual" or "good" and quickly asks about your day. there was a moment where you really thought he could be cheating, but there was no evidence of it. looking back, it was dumb to assume this, knowing how he's feeling about you and how deep is his love for you.

"oh no, no, no." the man scoffed. "don't even think about it. i repeat myself for the hundredth time. im not some weakling that can't deal with cold." god why was he so stubborn? you didn't know what you should do to convince him. it was hurting you a little. even if he was sick, it was finally an occasion for you both to spend some time together.

"please, albert." you looked at him. and the gaze was just showing so much. the care, love, and slight sadness. you grabbed his hand, like you didn't want to let him go anymore. you didn't want to argue anymore since this whole talk was going for twenty minutes straight. albert looked down at you. he felt your gentle yet firm touch on his hand, wesker felt defeated. he realized that even if he's all tough he can't be always like this towards his beloved one. if it meant so much to you – he was willing to give in. that was just excuse. he couldn't stand a fact he was always a softie when it came to you. he moved your hand towards his lips, placing a soft kiss on it.

"fine. but only this time." you never felt so happy hearing such a simple few words. you almost jumped at him closing both bodies in a tight embrace, making his body even more sore but it was worth the moment. he heard you mutter "i love you" and his heart slightly skip a beat.

"go upstairs okay? i'll make you some hot tea. then i'm gonna make some soup for you while you rest. and maybe we can cuddle later" albert smiled at all of those words. the way you became so gentle and soft towards him. he already liked the idea of every form of affection that he could receive from you. he nodded his head and placed a kiss on your cheek before walking away towards the stairs. "of course, i will be waiting for you my darling."

[winterchimez]

Redemption of Love - Chapter 4

SUMMARY: Choi Chanhee—better known as the Phantom of the Opera, has dominated the Paris Opera House with his lifelong partner, Christine Daae, for years. Until one fateful day, an incident forces them to be separated and never to be reunited again.

Decades later, you have begun your journey here at the famous opera house with the help of your fiancé, Lee Sangyeon. After several performances, it was then that you would come face-to-face with the renowned phantom himself, and he is determined to never let you go again, convinced that you were his long-lost partner whom he has not seen in many years.

It is now your choice to make. To give your heart to the once-forgotten phantom? Or to stand firm and marry the love of your life.

PAIRING: phantom of the opera Chanhee x singer f!reader x fiancé Sangyeon

GENRE & WARNINGS: phantom of the opera au, angst, supernatural, thriller, crime, fluff, time travel, reincarnation, major & minor character deaths, otome, pg-13

WORD COUNT: 2,635

A/N: and we're back with the series! im so sorry that it took me forever to update this, but im slowly getting back into it so pls bear with me as updates will be slow 😭 but i promise you she is not forgotten!! 💗

“Say, what makes you so attached to this Opera House?”

The male looked down upon the female lying peacefully in his outstretched arms. As the girl turned to focus all her attention on him, he couldn’t help but smile at the love of his life.

“Well for one, I built this place and have been residing here ever since. My dream and goal was to spread my love for music and performing after all,” he responded before planting a light kiss on the female’s forehead. 

“Was it your dream to ever make it this far? I mean, it has become one of the most famous theatres in Europe at this point.” 

“No, I have not. I am beyond grateful for everything that has happened up till now, and it is also thanks to you that made all of this possible.” 

The female immediately blushed before hiding herself in the crook of the male’s neck. “Stop, you know that’s not true.” 

“But it is,” he chuckled before gently pulling the female away as he locked his eyes with hers again. 

“I love you. Please stay by my side forever.” 

“Likewise. I love you too, Chanhee.” 

Chanhee? Who exactly was that—

“Y/N!!!”

You were returned to reality the moment you arrived in your dressing room. It must have been a long time running through the countless mazes to find your way back to the surface. Just when you thought it would be impossible to find your way back, that vision you just had suddenly flashed across your mind, something you couldn’t explain in words even if you wanted to.

Who exactly were the two people lying down on the field of grass in your vision?

More specifically, who was the man named Chanhee?

Before you could process your thoughts, you were greeted by the sight of your fiancé, who stood with his eyes wide open and jaw ajar, shocked to see you were back just like that. 

Sangyeon immediately pulled you in for an embrace, hugging you tight and making sure not to let you go anytime soon. 

“Where have you been, Y/N? We have been looking for you for two days straight!” 

Two days? You were gone for that long? 

Sure, you were glad to be back with your fiancé, but this time, you must ensure your message got across to Sangyeon. Pushing him away slightly, you grabbed both of his shoulders before staring right into his eyes.

“Sangyeon. Please. You have to believe me this time.” 

It has been several days since you returned to the Opera House, and things have been pretty quiet. Unfortunately, you weren’t able to convince Sangyeon once again even though you managed to recite all of your experiences from the beginning till the end—how a mysterious man emerged from the mirror and took you down into the depths of the underground Opera House, and how there was a maze full of passageways, up to the man’s lair down below. 

You tried your best to voice your concerns to the rest of the cast members of the Opera House, including Avaleigh, but to no avail. Nobody was going to believe your little stories—thinking that you were beyond exhausted to have come up with such hallucinations. 

Because of that, you decided there was no point in trying to prove everything, and you quietly resumed your performance for a couple of weeks. 

Until Madame Indivus finally made her grand return today. 

As all of you were rehearsing for the next show, the doors to the theatre burst open, revealing a rather upset Madame Indivus stomping her feet as she made her way up onto the stage. 

Immediately, she walked right up to you before pointing at you furiously, screaming at the top of her lungs. “What exactly is this mere country girl doing here? This is my show, my role!” 

Flustered, you couldn’t say a word until Mr Arnaud and Mr Arquette had to step in to talk things out with Madame. It was pretty obvious that the whole conversation wasn’t looking that great—it was a rather heated one, to be exact. Mentally, you were already preparing for the worst to happen, and sure enough, it was right for you to do so. 

After that uneventful discussion, both Mr Arnaud and Mr Arquette had no choice but to put you on backstage duty as Madame insisted that she was to have the lead role for the rest of the season and that you were in no way to take a step close to her at all. 

Upset would have been an understatement for you, especially when you have worked so hard to land the lead role yourself for the past few weeks. It was stripped off you almost immediately after you had not been under the spotlight for long. 

Depressed, you acted as if everything was alright as you continued your job backstage, giving the cast as much support as needed. 

At least I am still given a place here at the Opera House.

Little did you know that someone lurking behind the shadows was absolutely furious with the sudden change of plans. He was going to make sure that you got back up on stage, even if he had to choose violence himself. 

The hall was once again filled with way more spectators this time, especially when the infamous Madame Indivus was now back as the lead star of the Opera House. There was no doubt that both Mr Arnaud and Mr Arquette were glad to have her back despite her manipulating the two owners most of the time.

You could only sigh as you arranged the props from backstage, thinking that your little glamorous era had abruptly ended just like that, and you’d never get to be back on stage anymore while Madame Indivius was here.

To make matters worse, Madame Indivus most likely seemed to be about getting her revenge on you since you “stole” her spotlight. Every time she returned backstage, you had to quickly fetch her a glass of water and polish her newly designed shoes for the performance. 

As much as you could defy her, you weren’t ready or wanted her to make a ruckus, which would affect all the crew members. Instead, you brushed it off while the anger within you slowly started to bottle up. 

Avaleigh tried her best to help cheer you up—encouraging you that you’ll just have to wait for the storm to pass, and it’ll be fine. You could only return a weak smile as you knew that she had to look out for you while focusing on her role as a dancer. 

In a blink of an eye, the show had already reached its climax, and Madame Indivus was about to head back out to stand at the centre of the stage to sing her final piece for the night. However, she would only receive countless murmurs instead of a standing ovation with her final performance for the night. 

A horrible and loud croak came out of her mouth instead of her singing the song, ruining the entire piece simultaneously. It was clear that Madame herself was confused with what was happening, but she decided that the show must go on.

In reality, the croaking sound only got worse and louder, and eventually, one of the curtains from the side of the stages came crumbling down and made a loud thump as it fell directly on the stage. 

The murmurs were now slowly turning into screams, and the audience was rightfully starting to panic and ready to leave the hall immediately. 

Madame tried to call them back, but only the croaking sound would emerge from her throat. It was as if her vocal cords had completely betrayed her. Terrified, Madame too ran backstage and straight down the hallway to her dressing room, leaving behind a whole ruckus and chaos to unfold within the Opera House. 

There was no way this could go on, for the Opera House’s reputation could be ruined forever. Just as you were taking in everything unfolding in front of your eyes, you were suddenly tugged on the shoulder by someone before you were dragged out to the stage.

“Child, you listen to me very closely right now. Go out there and give your best performance and stop the chaos,” you said. Turning back, you saw that the voice belonged to Madame Matilda, the one in charge of the dancers. 

“B-But, it’s all a mess right now! I don’t think singing would do-”

“Just listen to me and do it!” Madame Matilda silently screamed before she pushed you right onto the stage, gesturing you to start immediately without wasting another second. 

You weren’t too sure about what to do in the situation you were in—singing when the audience was leaving the hall in a panic state? You have got to be insane for doing that. 

But it seemed as if Madame Matilda was persistent, and she wouldn’t take no for an answer. She continued to wave her hands to cue you to start singing out loud at this moment. 

Taking a deep breath, you mustered up all of your courage and began to sing out loud, hoping that this could calm the audience and all the crew members down. 

Think of me, think of me fondly, when we've said goodbye. Remember me once in a while - please promise me you'll try. When you find that, once again, you long to take your heart back and be free - if you ever find a moment, spare a thought for me

Sure enough, a few audience members turned their heads back towards the stage to see the former star of the Opera House singing with all her heart and soul without having a look of fear in their eyes. 

As you saw that you have captured their attention, you instantly regain the confidence you once had and continue to proceed. More of the audience began to turn their backs and eventually started filling the hall seats again, wanting to witness the sweet, young singer doing their very best to keep the show going. 

You weren’t too sure what was going on. Still, you definitely felt that your voice was getting louder each second and that your angelic voice was becoming a lot more prominent as you went on—turning the frightened look on all of the audience members into a smile. 

Soon enough, you finished the performance without fail and received a standing ovation from the now-filled hall. The audience was clapping harder than they had done in your previous shows and for Madame Indivus’s, making you bow profusely and repeatedly to show your appreciation. 

With that, Mr Arnaud and Mr Arquette immediately went to the front stage to address the complications throughout the show and compensate the audience. Meanwhile, it was your cue to finally step down and head backstage, slowly making your way to your dressing room. 

As you opened the door to your room, your eyes widened at the scene before you. 

The long mirror was being pushed open again, leaving a clear view of the dark alleyway you had once been down there recently. A good amount of smoke came out from the mirror—making the atmosphere feel much more eerie than it already was.

And of course, the man with the mask was back—leaning against your chair with his arms crossed as his eyes fell straight onto you.

“Well, it seemed that Madame Matilda had done the right thing,” the man replied as he finally got up to walk straight towards you, making you retreat quickly and move to the side before he could touch you. 

Instead, he walked behind you and closed the dressing room door, leaving you trapped within the room you had always found to be your safe space. Adrenaline instantly rushed over you, and you quickly took a few steps back until your back hit the wall at the room's corners.

“W-Why are you here…?” You merely let out a squeak instead of asking a proper question. The memories instantly came flooding back when you were essentially captured by this guy and brought down to his lair. 

There was just something about him that made your skin crawl. Was it because of his aura or his demeanour? Or was it because he could enter your dressing room easily from the mirror just like that whenever he wanted to? 

Or rather, because you have once taken off the mask and saw the true horrors behind that shield of his? 

As much as you wanted to scream for help this time and especially call out for your fiancé, you just can’t open your mouth and say the simple word. It was as if this masked man had you under control, and you felt helpless in your situation. 

Slowly, the man was beginning to take a few steps forward, and this time, he was certainly walking straight towards you. It was too late for you to move now since you had been potentially cornered by the time he was merely inches away from you. 

This is the end of me.

You could only keep your eyes shut tightly as you kept muttering those words quietly, thinking that there was no escape and that this was where you would meet your demise. 

Or at least that was what you thought. 

“Christine, please come with me. Let me explain everything that has happened. I do not wish to hurt you,” the man pleaded. 

That came as a shock to you as you opened your eyes to see that he wasn’t the scary, creepy stranger that he was when you first opened the door. Now, there seemed to be sorrow in his eyes, and he slumped down as if he were in defeat. 

You weren’t too sure what to make of the situation, but as long as he wasn’t hurting you nor putting you in grave danger, that was all that mattered right now.

“P-Pardon? I really sorry, but I have no idea what you’re talking about-” 

“No no, Christine. You don’t understand…” This time, the man grabs both of your hands into his as he begins rubbing them slowly, intertwining his fingers with yours before tilting his head back up to look at you again. 

“Please…come with me…I need to tell you the truth…” It was evident that tears were beginning to well up in his eyes—as if he was going to crumble down anytime soon. 

“P-Promise me that you w-won’t hurt me?” You asked.

“Never Christine…you’re my one and only love…I’ll never hurt you nor cause you any pain…” the man continued and kept addressing you with that unfamiliar name. 

Given that the man had definitely calmed down, you figured that listening to what he had to say wouldn’t hurt, and you gave him a little nod.

Instantly, the man’s eyes lit up, and he made a little jump in the air, making you baffled by the sight that unfolded in front of your eyes. Enthusiastically, he grabbed your wrist and dragged you down back into the dark alleyway, assuring you that you wouldn’t be gone for too long and he was going to bring you back up again once he had cleared the air between you two. 

In return, you silently pulled a few strands of your hair and dropped them into the passageway—just in case anything happened, and that could be a potential clue to your whereabouts, especially for Sangyeon. 

As you both strolled down the passageway and ended up on the boat just like you had before, the masked man gently placed one of his hands on your cheeks and began rubbing them back and forth before he muttered something under his breath. 

“I’ll make you the happiest girl alive again, my love.” 

series masterlist

masterlist

taglist: @deoboyznet @kflixnet @k-films @flwoie @zzoguri @kyusqult @atinycafe @hanniluvi @tinkerbell460 @sulkygyu @jaerisdiction @sanaxo-o @lngwayup @ilovechanhee @piripurora @daisyvisions @stealanity @djidfk (join my permanent taglist here!)

[lettherebemonsters]

a part of me is still kinda sorta hoping that Adam may return somewhere in season 2, tho it’s more likely for him to come back in season 3 (if he is gonna return in season2, he’ll prob be more like a B-plot, or dunno, i just want him back as soon as possible ;-;)

and lemme just tell u, you’re basically a savior for dah Adam fans, because you’re giving us hope that Adam WILL be coming back, and im gonna thank you for that :D

i even have a lucky charm bc im a firm believer that Adam will come back, and yes I agree when u said that Viv is kinda devious, or just straight up lying

e

DAAAAW thank youuuu! I mean, I wouldn't call myself a savior. I'm fully willing to admit I'm wrong if it does end up true that Viv erased Adam for whatever reason.

But I'm old. Like LEGIT old. I was born in the early 90s and I watched and lived through A LOT of fan crazed stuff that makes Hazbin look like a baby tantrum.

So I go into this with someone with a lot of experience in his fan push affects franchises. If a creator is brazen enough to tell a massive part of their audience to fuck off, they're doomed.

I'm tired of people being this reactive the second they hear or see something. This is exactly the reaction Spindlehorse wants in order to gage what direction they want to go. Every company does this and it's why fan fave bad boys always come back. Like....ALWAYS. You might as well make it a bingo moment with how predictable it is.

Plus Vivziepop is predictable too. She always changes directions due to fan demand. Like Stolas was supposed to be a villain that sounds like he regular sexually harassed Blitz, but fan demand changed it so that Stolas is a lot more positive without the villainous angle.

Huskerdust was never in the cards until fans demanded it after Angel got inappropriate with Husk in the pilot. Now it's a confirmed ship in the show.

Like it's predictable to a degree and why I'm not that freaking out about it. Fan demand for Adam just exploded after the interview, and with Viv at SDCC and I think Alex Brightman being interviewed on YouTube at some point, the demand is only going to increase.

Can I be wrong? Yes. But I recommend doing what I did when Star Trek shit all over Lore.... stop supporting them. That's it. Just stop giving money to the company if they regularly ignore their fans.

It's why I stopped buying Marvel stuff years ago. They betrayed their fans too many times to justify blowing 50 bucks a week on their stuff.

If Viv decides to ignore the massive demand for Sinner Adam, stop supporting it. That's the only way to get a business to listen.

[blackdollette]

need to see danny as a pleasure top for once! i love him being subby coz i can live out my mommy dom desires... but i feel like theres one time shes like "youve been such a good boy. you wanna be on top?" and he rly likes it (not as much as he loves being pegged but hey thats fine.) and shes letting him cum as early and as much as he wants. maybe its a reward for him taking a really hard punishment so well yk

i love this idea sm. i barely see any dom danny on this app.

"he's got the fire." | dan cooper

sad girl. - lana del rey

female!reader x softdom!dan

contents: p in v, aftercare

ok so im writing this like a rant bc why not

one day you two would be making out as usual, but this time you let him take charge

at first he's a little opposed to the idea

but then you mention the fact that he can cum whenever he wants and he would be all in

yall hear me out: he would love seeing you in thigh-high socks

something about how innocent you look in them would drive him nuts

his mind would be running wild at this point

he would be thinking about all the things he's wanted to do to you now that he called the shots

but you were also his number-one priority

so he'd definitely be the softest dom you could ever imagine

he would start by telling you if you ever needed to stop, you should tell him and he would

and he'd be wearing exactly what he did in the movie

so anyway, his favourite position would probably be cowgirl bc he could watch your body moving on his and his hands would be on your hips to show his dominance

his hand would be on your clit/cock while you rode him

he's such a sweetheart, he would compliment you nonstop

and he would whisper the sweetest little things into your ear

telling you how beautiful you are

your moans would be music to his ears

he would gradually pick up the pace, holding your body close to his

his hands would constantly be resting on your thighs, squeezing them gently while you moved on top of him

when you got tired, he would move to doggy style of missionary (but probably missionary tbh)

the whole thing would be so sensual and affectionate

he made sure you felt good the entire time

and if you didn't he'd feel like he failed as a dom

and when you were about to cum, he would be more loving than ever

telling you that you could cum with him, making the moment so much more intimate

he'd hold you so gently as you reached your orgasm

telling you what a great job you did for him

and he's a firm believer of aftercare

he'd ask you if you wanted something to eat or drink

he'd get a nice warm bath for you and rub lotion all over your body once you were out of the tub

and after all that, he would snuggle up with you in bed and stroke your hair until you fell asleep

and he would hope that he was a good dom for you, because all he wanted was to make you proud.

author's note: yall should lemme know if you like this writing style better than my other one. thank you for reading!! xoxo

[soniccrazygal]

A Matter of ‘Pride’

Mike paced back and forth in his ‘bedroom’, the sound of creaking metallic joints and soft thuds from his heavy steps filling the silent air. He wasn’t exactly sure how long he had been locked and isolated in his room as his internal clock had been deactivated and there wasn’t any other means to truly mark the passage of time. Mike’s best guess was that it had been several days, maybe even a week based on the times he’s had to recharge.

It felt far longer than that though as every second had felt like an eternity as he agonized over how his siblings were doing without him there to help protect them and without him to play peacekeeper when the stress got too much. Elizabeth and Gregory especially were usually at odds with each other…

Oh Superstar… I’m so sorry… Mike thought mournfully, his stride a bit unsteady as fresh guilt flooded him. He had naively believed that simply getting the younger out of the Pizzaplex would be enough to save him from the horrors that lurked beneath it, but now the poor child had to deal with being recently murdered, sharing a body not meant for him, and forced to comply under the rule of his killer.

Gregory was understandably chafing against the restrictions of this new ‘life’ and lashing out when he could. He barely had time to even mourn his death before William had started cracking down on his ‘behavior’. Elizabeth wasn’t helping matters by being more quick to fall and line and saying that Gregory should do the same.

And I left them alone… Mike though guiltily, pace picking up as anxious energy flowed through him. Granted he hadn’t been given much of a choice. Mike still couldn’t believe the audacity William had to ‘suggest’ they have ‘family bonding time’ every day and just assume they would all be okay with it.

Like they’ve been a family in decades.

Of course Mike had scoffed at the very idea and made it clear he refused to entertain William’s delusions that they could ever return to what they once were. The result had been Mike getting shocked for his words and locked in his room.

“Have you been stewing in the consequences of your own actions enough yet?” William asked casually from where he leaned in the doorway, making Mike jump and whip around in surprise. “Or you do still need a few more days to get over your stubborn pride?”

“My pride?” Mike snarled in disbelief and anger, giving his ‘father’ a hateful glare. “It isn’t pride that makes me refuse to spend time playing board games with a child killing psychopath! Why would I ever want to act like we’re still family you monstrous delusional fre-!”

Mike cut off with a wince of pain as the shocking system activated, hunching over slightly as the painful electricity flooded his body before dissipating. William gave Mike a disappointed look as he said, “Michael… haven’t I made it clear that you will always be my son? I will always love you and want you to be apart of my family, despite your previous attempts to destroy it by being the cause of your siblings deaths.”

Mike knew William was just preying on his old wounds to manipulate him, but the stab of guilt that went through him still felt far more painful than the electricity that had been hurting him just a moment earlier.

“That isn’t fair,” Mike said, trying his best to sound firm. “You can’t blame me for everything you’ve done…”

“Perhaps not, but there wouldn’t have been nearly as many deaths if you hadn’t kept impeding my progress,” William replied, standing up straight and stepping fully into the room. “And never forget that you’re a murderer too. You killed Evan and I’m the one that had to figure out how to put him back together.”

“It was an accident…” Mike weakly defended as he instinctively took a step back, all his old guilt and self loathing being dragged to the surface at William’s words. “I-I didn’t mean to… not like you!”

“I simply did what I had to to save this family,” William replied coldly as he stepped even closer, looming over Mike. “Nothing is more important to me than this family and I will do whatever it takes to make sure it remains intact and eternal. Something I would think you’d appreciate as I made sure you wouldn’t be able to harm your siblings ever again.”

“I’d never do anything to hurt them!” Mike shouted back, hating how easily William was able to make him feel like a simple rebellious teenager again.

“And yet you’re doing just that now,” William pressed on, not giving Mike time to organize his thoughts. “They’ve been asking about you you know? Asking how you’re doing and if they can see you… They miss you Michael and I hate denying them something so basic as being able to see you, but I can’t let your stubbornness go unchecked, not anymore. So ask yourself Michael… is your pride in refusing to spend a few hours with me and the whole family each day really worth not being able spend the rest of your time with them?”

Mike knew William wasn’t right, not really, but there was no point in trying to convince the madman of things like logic and morals. And in the end, Mike couldn’t deny that William had a point. Trying to deny William’s ‘request’ for time with the whole family was not worth being kept isolated from his siblings. He couldn’t leave them alone to face William without him there to be a buffer from the madman’s wrath and to provide what little comfort and protection he could.

Mike hated it, but he had no choice but to play along in this instance.

“Alright…” Mike sighed in defeat, his entire posture slumping a bit as he submitted to William’s demands. “I’ll participate in your stupid family bonding activities… just let me be able to be with my siblings again!”

“See… was that so hard?” William said with a pleased smile. “If you just obey me like you should, then I wouldn’t be forced to punish you like this so often. Come then, let’s go tell Evan and Elizabeth the good news.”

Mike had to force himself to remain silent as he had a lot of choice words he wanted to yell at William, but he couldn’t risk losing this chance to finally be back with his siblings again. William lead the way into the main room and the moment Evan and Elizabeth spotted Mike tailing behind him, the both lit up with relieved smiles.

“Mikey!” They both shouted in excitement as they ran forward to hug their brother, Mike automatically kneeling down to accept them into his arms.

“I missed you so much Mikey!” Elizabeth said as she squeezed Mike. “Don’t go away for that long again!”

“Gregory and I were trying to figure out how to sneak in to see you,” Evan whispered as he pressed up against Mike. “But we were worried we’d just get you in more trouble…”

“I’m here now though,” Mike assured as he held them close. “And I promise I’ll try not to leave you guys alone that long again…”

He knew that promise would mean complying more to William’s wishes, but Mike still made the promise anyway. His siblings were the most important thing to him and he had to be here for them in any way he could. He would always end up putting them first no matter what.

And from the smug smile Mike could see on William’s face… his father knew that too…

[mittch22]

I love your headcanons for the WGP! Such underutilized characters that Pixar will never come back to. Which makes it all the more fun to come up with the headcanons and their personalities.

Also do you have headcanons for the regional replacements of Jeff Gorvette in the international dubs of Cars 2: Long Ge (my personal bias), Flash Nilsson, Memo Rojas Jr, Frosty Winterbumper and Vitaly Petrov?

Another Ask! Thank you!!!

I must admit, it was a challenging one. I like to have a little background info before I add HC's to pre-made characters. But alas, there is not much to go on.

Im glad you bought these fine chaps to my attention. They are VERY cool. My favourite is Vitaly personally. Lets give this a go, shall we?

Long Ge - He is insanely polite and will go above and beyond to ensure the comfort of others in his presence, even sometimes to his own detriment.

He can occasionally get a little nervous talking to others, but thats down to a small amount of social anxiety. He wants everyone to like him.

Long Ge is respectful of his fellow competitors at all times, however, he can occasionally get a little arrogant, but its all in good humour.

He is heavily supportive of racers in need, especially when it comes to physical injury. Regardless of his position on the track, he will stop to help if he deems it necessary. In his spare time, he will volunteer to assist those in need.

He loves traditional board games.

Lightning McQueen ended up introducing him to Tex Dinoco and they got along straight off the bat.

Flash Nilsson - Flash is spritely and energetic and its utterly contagious. He knows exactly how to get a party going and how to keep it rolling.

He's amazing at poker.

He gets jestfully angry when fellows sing or play the Flash Gordan theme song when he enters a room or aproaches a group. He will start singing along with it though.

He's a bit of a practical joker and can spend ages thinking up amazing pranks to play on his friends. He loves to have a good laugh.

Flash spends a lot of time practicing on different tracks and honing his skillset in a variety of different ways. He's always looking to improve himself and learn loads of different techniques for different situations.

Memo Rojas Jr - Memo loves learning about different cultures and sightseeing the countries he visits.

He is a highly suspicious vehicle and carries a luck charm with him for his races.

You'll never not hear him humming or singing musical tunes and jigging along to it.

He gets on really well with Raoul and they have become quite firm friends after the WGP.

Memo is rediculously quick off the mark and shocks fellow racers with his ability to just shoot himself forward off the starting line. It can be quite startling and intimidating.

Frosty Winterbumper - Frosty is a talker. As in he is an incessant talker. Good luck shutting him up. Especially when its on a subject that he is particularly interested in.

He loves basking in gentle sunshine and believes there's nothing better than a quality nap and a decent amount of relaxation time.

He is a bit of a risk taker on the track and enjoys the rush of that.

Despite his wintery namesake, he despises being in cold environments. He can't stand the cold and will do pretty much anything to ensure he stays warm. A deeply set chill can really throw him off his game.

Vitaly Petrov (Виталий Петров) - Vitaly is an avid chess player. His father was a regional champion at the game and athough Vitaly had bigger interests in racing, he is still very good at the game. So good luck beating him.

He is used to freezing climates from growing up racing in rally sprints and ice races and just doesnt seem to get cold. He has techniques for staying warm and he will always share them with any fellow racer who feels the cold easily.

Vitaly is the only race fan in his family and built himself up in the racing world from scratch and he absolutely loves it. He does it purely for his own enjoyment. It just turns out he's really damn good at it.

Chrysler help you if you find yourself in a snowball fight with him. He is pretty merciless.

Bonus content:

I have an amusing screenshot (at least I found it amusing). Tumblr is being a bit funny on mobile at the moment with asks. And for some reason its staging out the words in the ask box when I go to answer it. This is what it came up with:

PS: His name is Frosty Winterbum now.

[sparklyslug]

Ohohoho im SO excited for your bb fic! Would love to see more if youre still doing wip -day

YESSSSSSS ABSOLUTELY every day is wipday if you believe in yourself

“That’s good to know,” Steve says. “Especially since, you know. Dustin’s got that big decision to make. Might change some things.”

Suzie doesn’t say anything. But he can almost picture that birdlike look on her face, the little tilt of her head. Maybe the way she purses her lips when she wants you to get to the point, a face that Steve seems to be on the receiving end on more than anyone else.

“We haven’t actually talked about it, you and me,” Steve says. “What you, you know. Think about it. The whole offer.”

“And I’m interested in knowing what you think about it, too,” she says evenly. “I have an idea from Dustin, but I’d rather hear it from you.”

“Ditto,” Steve says. And the idea comes together, in as much time as it takes to wrap the store’s phone cord around one finger. “I can’t talk about it here obviously, but maybe– in person?”

“Like, come to Chicago?” Suzie asks, though she doesn’t sound all that surprised by the idea.

“Yeah,” he says, on firm ground now. The imagined sound of horns or trumpets or whatever at his back. “This is big, what’s happening here. I think we need to all talk about it together. As a team.”

“Talk about it,” Suzie says slowly. “Or talk Dustin out of it?”

Steve takes a deep breath. His finely honed Talking to Women sixth sense is blaring at him to tread very carefully. “I’d never tell you what to do, or what to tell him,” he says. “Like I said, I don’t even know how you feel about it. But I think we should all talk it out. Get on the same page.”

“Yeah, I’m guessing there hasn’t been a lot of that going on over there,” she says dryly, and Steve gives himself a quiet little fist pump of triumph at having apparently given up some kind of right answer. “Much as I hate to be the one who has to come in and clean up your emotional communication hangups, I do happen to agree with you– this is something we should all talk about, together. I’ve been thinking the same thing.”

“Okay,” Steve says, grinning. “Okay, great. I’ll let Dustin know, and–”

“Steve,” she cuts him off. “I mean it. I haven’t decided yet, how I feel about this whole thing. What I think it could mean for us. For all of us– Dustin, you, and for me. That’s part of why I want to come. I need some clarity. And once I get it, you might not like it.”

“I trust you, Suzie,” Steve says. “You’re our eye in the sky, sweetheart. You always know what’s what, and what to do about it.”

“I’m just keeping an open mind,” Suzie says. Trying for stern, but he can hear the smile in her voice. “And Steve– I really think you should try and do the same. I know it’s hard, and– and how it happened, with Eddie and everything. I get reacting the way you have.”

“What way I have?” Steve asks, suddenly a little annoyed.

“But just try and keep an open mind, is all I’m saying,” she says smoothly. “Until I can come and knock both of your heads together, get some sense into them.”

“Okay,” Steve says, a little uneasily. Not sure if this cavalry call is going exactly the way he had hoped it would.

“Okay,” she says firmly. “I’ll give you a call from the road, let you know when I’m getting in.”

“Sounds good, thanks Suzie,” Steve says, and they hang up.

Frowning a little, he turns away from the phone. To find two teenagers looking at him with open curiosity.

“Did that have something to do with Eddie?” Lilith asks.

Fidel looks sharply at her. “Who’s Eddie?” he asks, a little suspicious.

“PB’s friend,” Lilith says, tucking her long black hair behind one ear. “Cool, super hot, dressed all in black. Probably unavailable,” she finishes with a sigh.

“Unavailable?” Steve asks, deciding to leave super hot alone. Fidel fidgets with the hem of his beloved Bulls jersey.

Lilith sees the motion and probably leaps immediately to the right conclusion, because teenaged girls are evil and powerful. “Probably unavailable to me,” she amends, smiling a little bit as Fidel catches her eye, and abruptly stops messing with his shirt, turning to walk back to the other end of the shop.

“Well yes,” Steve says nastily. “He is, since you’re an infant.”

Lilith scowls at him. “Technically, I’m your manager.”

“Technically, you need my help to reach above the third shelf,” Steve shoots back.

Lilith’s scowl turns murderous, and she whirls towards the record player. Whips the needle off the Eve 6, and rummages under the player for an album. “My turn,” she says. “We’ve listened to enough of your boring, basic Peanut Butter bullshit today.”

Suddenly assaulted by the Smashing Pumpkins, and a sharp uptick in the degree of teen angst surrounding him on all sides, Steve’s headache reasserts itself with a vengeance. And he is, abruptly, so tired of everyone in his life being so fucking stupid.

Himself included.

[marauderswolf22]

Dating problems

For @goodboylupin's challenge, Candy hearts. Hope you like it, i don’t like how it turned out but maybe it will inspire somenone? I was really excited about this challenge, this idea with hearts is very cute and im doing one more story, but it will be late (as always im late), and im sure that will be so much better.

+English isn’t my mother language, and only I read it, so it possible to be litlle bit uncorrect in grammar. If you see something, tell me!

Rating: T

Words: 823 (it's more a long headcanon i know)

Heart prompt: „Swipe right”

Enjoy!

Sirius really didn't know why he agreed to this. In the cozy privacy of the common room, with the fireplace crackling next to him, he'd rather be doing his homework. -”Or maybe Violet?”- Instead, he had to listen to James name people he knew. Valentine's Day was right around the corner and Sirius still didn't have a date. Even Peter had plans this year, and young Black couldn't ruin his reputation. -”I don't like that she talks so much about her friends, she talks about them all the time!” - Potter's head hit the elbow of their cramped couch with a soft bump. Several people were listening to their conversation, but Sirius was too busy counting his hair one by one. Really even homework would be more productive. They both seemed to be struggling to remember who else Sirius would date. However, it wasn't easy because if someone didn't have an opinion about him, they already had another date. -”I know! Morgan?" At that name, a strand of Sirius just counted fell back to the rest of his mane. It wasn't a bad idea compared to the previous ones. Morgan was a cheerful, pretty Gryffindor a year younger than theirs. Fuck. Which is two years younger than Sirius. -”Too young. She won't understand my brilliant black humor.”- Raven hair flew back up and James groaned, hinting at his boredom. His eyes wandered around the common room, trying to find someone suitable.

At the far end of the large room sat a wormtail playing chess with his date Kristy. Next to them, on the stairs, girls from their year were having fun, eagerly discussing something. His mind colored a little warmer at the sight of the red-haired Lily, but this time it wasn't about his affairs. He also saw their whole year (which unfortunately was not taken into account), most of them older, and not much younger. The older ones, though Sirius was widely regarded as one of the best dates in the castle, had long since been occupied by each other. Of course, they were most eager to show it to everyone around, making out on sofas and pouffes, as if they didn't have difficult topics to learn. The younger ones, due to the pickiness of Sirius, also dropped out. James and so modestly believed that there was not a student among them who would not agree to the proposal of a date with the legendary Black.The only chance were the few from other houses. So his attention returned to the hero of this whole problem. He didn't even seem interested in the topic that usually excited him. His vacant gaze and relaxed eyebrows were not the hallmarks of someone who was extremely thoughtful. -”Someone from another house? Darla from Ravenclaw or Iva?”- His friend's expression didn't change at all. James took a firm step. The pillow sailed between them, nearly knocking him over the carpeted floor. -”What was that supposed to be, I didn't do anything!”- Sirius, embarrassment etched in his gestures, settled back as before. -”And that's the problem! You seem like you don't care at all and I'm trying.”- Prongs took the aggressive gesture as a great insult. He sat with his arms crossed like an angry child and waited for an answer. Instead, the fireplace hummed, breaking the silence and easing the impatience. He let go and spoke in a calmer tone. -Tell me who you want to go with. Not exactly, I just want to know who to look around. This apparently spurred Sirius to action immediately. James saw out of the corner of his eye that a sleepwalker came down the stairs, limping over a pile of his books. He sat on the other side of the fireplace, his face lit by the flames. Sirius smiled, his eyes shining brightly which was a good sign. - Someone taller than me. -It wasn't a difficult task, James wanted to say. -Someone who’s kind, understands my humor, who is tolerant, supportive, wise in many ways, caring, but not boring, although many people may think they are. With each enumeration, the fire in his eyes kindled, as if he was passionate about what he was saying. As if he was watching a picture that perfectly describes how he felt. Though he seemed to be engrossed in his reading, Remus' eyes could be seen following his friend's words. But James preferred to pretend he hadn't seen it. - „I'm sorry, friend, but I don't think there are such people, at least in this school.”- He smiled, it was really cute how his brother's demeanor changed from this vision. He was also sure that he would use it again for jokes. -”I'm sure it is!”-Sirius said with an indignation ridiculous to himself. But he was really sure there was one, even closer than they thought. Potter thought again. He also felt like he knew this person. -”Sirius?” -”Yes?” -”You just described Moony.”

[beybeys-world]

Newbie

HELLO!!! If this makes it out of the void of my drafts this is my very first write so give ya hoe some love pretty please! This write is also in 3rd person pov and uses gender neutral pronouns. Constructive criticism is welcome! Please tell me how I did! And for those who made it this far I hope you enjoy part 1/? of my writing. Please give my writing some love for a part 2!

Warnings: Cursing, mention of drinking, pet names, fluff, gender neutral reader

Coming from California, Hawkins Indiana wasn't exactly the place he hoped to settle in, lucky for him he didn't have much of a choice. Hot shot Billy Hargrove had strolled his way into Hawkins high with an arrogant mindset. He knew how his charm worked on people and he could tell it was working with the girls gawking at him as he excited his Camaro. He knew he would have a hell of a morning claiming his new royalty as Hawkins's new king. 

Y/N L/N wasn't particularly gawking at the handsome gentlemen but more of peering due to curiosity. Unlike every other girl in this god forsaken parking lot, they weren't aroused whatsoever by him but intrigued. Y/N wasn't one to fall head over heels first sight and was just wanting to be an acquaintance to billy. After all they had connections with everyone all over Hawkins, being loud and extroverted came with the side of knowing the whole town. Sure he was handsome to them but they were just trying to have a good impression with him especially with him being a new kid. 

“Look at his ass in those jeans!” Tina squealed to which you replied with a gag.

 “EW Tina! Its flatter than a pan I have no idea what curves your seeing.” Y/n chuckled.

 Aside from knowing everyone at school, Tina is your best friend and the one girl you enjoyed company with the most, despite you both being far from similar.

 “mhm yeah right y/n, like you're not drooling over him too!” she teased nudging into y/n. 

Billy was charming and of course y/n was well aware of that but unlike Tina she wanted to get to know him aside from looking and commenting about his ass.

“Okay I have great news! So... my parents are going outta town for a couple days.. and a party must be announced!” Tina cheered handing me a pink flyer. 

“A Halloween party?” You read the flyer “I didn't mark you up for a costume party chic” I joked. 

“Well you better believe it y/n cause i want you there and i want you to spread the word!” Tina began, “I know your one for parties and it wouldn't be a riot without you and your social butterfly spark”. 

She was right, you were a party animal at the parties Tina hosted. A costume party was an open opportunity to show off your stunning outfits and socialize with everyone. You just weren't in the “vibe” to decide on going at the moment. Tina had suggested you go to the party but if you REALLY didn't want to go, to at least spread the word to at least one person. (a hot one, she included)You told Tina that you’d decide on it later but would do your best to spread word. The first period warning bell had rung signaling you to the first period.

                                                   time skip

Walking into class y/n found themselves to be accompanied by the famous Billy hargrove, sitting directly next to them on the seating chart. Not even him being there for 30 minutes, rumors were roaming Hawkins high, all about billy. Despite all the talk Y/N L/N weren't scared whatsoever, but more excited for a new face. Y/N exhaled “how bad could he be” they muttered.

“Hiya! Pleasure to meet ya, you're the new kid right?” you stuck your hand out with a grin. 

“Oh so you’ve heard of little ol me” he snarked with a cocky grin.

“Who hasn't at this point, new kids like you are a big deal in Hawkins. Its a small town after all” you replied, lacing your finger less gloved hand with his to shake.

“Im Billy nice to meet you lovely. Geez firm grip for a doll like you” Billy teased He was right, upon meeting everyone you shook their hand firmly with a grin hoping for a good first impression with whoever you were meeting.

“Pfff please, i’m barely even shaking you, billy boy.” they objected

He replied with a smile leaning back in his chair. “Billy boy, New kid” He thought to himself. Billy liked those nicknames especially hearing them from you.

 Continuing to talk during English class, they were sharing lots of laughs and shares of interests and an occasional “shh” by the teacher as well.Y/N didn't quite talk about themselves in conversation much fearing that they’d bore whoever they were speaking with. But Billy wanted to know just about everything about them.

“You know I like you a lot..” He looked at you as you stuffed your notebook into your bag. “we should get to know each other more, I wanna get to know you and some of your friends” He implied with a grin.

“Hmm well..you busy Friday?” you chimed.

“Wow, makin plans with me already? very bold of you sweetheart” Billy snickered with a shit eating grin.

“No jackass, a party. My friend Tina’s throwin a Halloween costume party. Free drinks too, just show up in a costume so you don’t look like a dunce” They teased.

“Well, are you goin?” Billy questioned.

“I guess I kinda do have to go now if you wanted to get to know me better” Y/N thought out loud.

“Guess you do sweetheart, so is that a date?” Billy smiled with his cocky ever so determined expression

“Slow your roll newbie” they picked up their bag heading towards the next class alongside Billy “It's not a date, it's an invite. Like a hangout” she answered

“Hmm okay, whatever you wanna call it doll. Sure I’ll come to your little “hangout”, i’ll meet you there and maybe I can get to know your pretty little self a bit better ”he flirted with a wink. Which was followed by Y/N shaking their head laughing at Billy’s remark.

“Well this ones, me” Y/N sighed pointing to the doorway of science class

“Hey hey hey, wait I never got your name Princess.” Billy asked

Once again they stuck out their hand to shake his “Stick around and maybe you’ll find out” they winked strolling to their class.

“See ya at the party new kid!” they concluded their conversation with a wave before walking into the class. “What a flirt” you muttered silently laughing to yourself. You couldn't wait to tell Tina about your “invite”. You smiled to yourself then reached in your bag for science notes.

About to light a cigarette Billy realized he was still clenching his hand after shaking y/n’s. He opened his hand to find a crumpled pink flyer with the party information on it that y/n sneakily had slipped while shaking his hand. Later that day he sat in his room rummaging through his closet hoping for something cool for the party. He was gonna be there and he was gonna see them and hopefully find out their name.

If you enjoyed my read please give it some love and follow for part 2!! If you’d like to be tagged in part 2 please comment below!!  My requests are open but please look at the guidelines before requesting! Thanks for reading luv ya! 

-Ahzy

[stonebutchstories]

Good Talk

stone butch top/stone butch bottom

Characters use she/her

(cw: sexual language, fully clothed, character is somewhat nonverbal, physical contact, limited skin-to-skin touching, sex toys, mild dominance with commands. a character implies a nonspecific past history of being SA)

L has forgotten how to talk about sex, or how to even enjoy it. Mac, ever the expert, is eager to try with her sweet butch.

When Mac told me she was stone too, I was a bit devastated. I really thought that was the end of it, I wasn’t sure what we could get up to. Of course, she’s always been the adventurous one.

We’d both been exclusively the top in our respective sex lives until then, and even though she made me crazy just seeing her, I could never tell quite what that pit in my stomach was pushing me to do. I’d never had an urge to bottom the way I’d seen it done, after a lifetime of watching how my other partners would go about it. I couldn’t picture myself so bare, making those type noises, letting anybody touch me so directly. It was pretty much off the table. Obviously, though, there were some little things on the outskirts of my awareness. Out for drinks when Mac and I were ‘buddies’ and she’d pull me around by the bicep, and I couldn’t just blame the flush on the liquor. Well, I knew there was more to it all, somewhere tangled in with those firm boundaries and others’ expectations too deeply to examine. It seemed so rigid- to be Stone or not. What did it even mean to me, particularly? I couldn’t unpack it after everything that had happened, so I never tried to.

But I didn’t want it to end with her, just as much as I didn’t want to fold to my own pressures anymore. So I said to Mac, one night after making dinner at my place, that I wanted to talk. We sat farther apart than normal, I was trying to stick to my guns, because I knew if she had her hands out anywhere I could see them I’d chicken out. Really, I can’t remember too well what I told her, it all kind of tumbled out of me. I remember how she softened in reassurance, though.

“L, you know we… you know there’s no wrong way to fuck, right?”

That threw me for one. I mean, literally I was aware of that- being a lesbian, you’re already fucking ‘wrong’ even if you’re with a femme, so at some point you accept it. But being stone is even worse. When it’s two stone butches, it’s not even something you could find most places if you went out looking for it. What does it even mean, two tomboys who don’t like to be touched, where do you start? So, yeah, I knew she was right, but I’d never really believed it, I think. She watches me have this revelation for a moment before interjecting.

“What do you actually like? I mean, what parts of sex feel good? Why do you do it?”

It takes me too long to think of something to respond with, and she gets more concerned.

“We don’t have to, L. If you don’t like.”

I stammer. “I-I do! I like parts of it. I like some parts.”

I’m staring at the floor, working up the courage to say exactly which parts those were. I think she realizes Im getting ashamed of myself, so she stands up to do some tidying and give me a break from scrutiny. Mac’s been ‘around’ a lot more than me, and in a lot more intense scenes. Part of that is the leather and the chains and the fucking, but part of it is knowing how to talk about this stuff before you do it. I’m grateful one of us knows how. The faucet squeaks on.

“You can keep going, I’m listening.”

The sink faced away from where we had been sitting, so I can see her and she can’t see me. It gives me a nice view of her hands, moving confidently from task to task, slick with soap. She’s in a pair of jeans from her work that set pretty low with her leather belt. The legs of them are stiff with starch, but her ass fills out the seat without leaving anything to the imagination. I suspect when she makes a house call to some sweetheart dyke with a wiring issue, it must be a nice surprise. This time. It’s not a surprise- it’s an intentional view, for me, and I like that it’s on purpose. All of the wanting in the room obliterates my fear.

“I like it when I keep my clothes on. When both of us do. Not just for comfort reasons. I like the clothes.”

Mac shifts her weight, purposefully showing off a little more.

“You like a dyke in a uniform.”

She’s lucky she wasn’t facing me, I just turned the reddest I’ve ever been. I go on, stammering still.

“I don’t like being touched uh, below the belt. In the genital area. God, that sounds gross. And uhm, I don’t like swearing. Or even just aggressive or loud talking. Anything angry. I do like feeling your packer, even if you don’t want me to touch it. Just against me when we’re close. I like that, the touching with bodies, but not grabbing. Chest-to-back. You know already, that handsy stuff.”

“No hands?” I look at her soapy hands and forearms getting to work on a stuck on spot, firm and slick, and, yeah, like I said, she has me rethinking.

“W-well- it’s just- certain kinds of touch.”

“Okay. Say more.”

“Like um, I don’t like sudden yanking or grabbing, or tracing around with your fingers… anything too delicate or too rough… I don’t like that. I do like seeing your hands. I like that a LOT. I just prefer they stay put if you’re touching my body. And that they stay where I can see them. It makes me feel anxious otherwise.”

She places a plate on the drying rack. “Understood. Anything else?”

“Um… not that I can think of.”

“Okay. This is an open list, then. Add to it when you need.”

I nod, before realizing she can’t see. “Okay.”

She finishes up the last dish she was working on, considering something before asking again.

“One more thing. You didn’t mention- do you like to cum?”

I’m staring at the floor again.

“Ah… yeah.”

She turns on her heel, leaning back against the countertop and wiping her hands on her pants pockets. “Just checking. A lotta of stones don’t. And I thought maybe…Do you not normally, when you’re having sex with other people?”

Always on the money. “Is it that obvious?”

Mac walks over, carding her damp hand through my grown-in buzzcut, how she had been doing since even before we were together. She keeps her hand still once it sets there this time, and I’m silently grateful not to feel the awful crawling feeling I normally get. I let out a tense exhale I wasn’t aware of holding in.

She smiles apologetically. “Yeahhh, a little. It’s a shame you feel like you can’t ask. I mean, I’ve met stone butches who get off topping, and a lot who find it unpleasant. All of them still like sex within their boundaries. Easy to see why your heart’s not in it if your partners don’t care.”

“It’s not that they don’t care, usually. I stopped bringing it up. It’s unreasonable to expect that of them.”

“Unreasonable?” She can’t stifle her reaction to that one. “Baby. I get difficult, but how is it unreasonable to expect your partner to make an attempt to please you?”

I pause. “I just mean it’s hard to get there when you can’t LET people touch you.”

She softens. It’s kind of the crux of it, right? Being stone sometimes means being misunderstood by partners. People hear ‘no receiving’ and have different assumptions. I wouldn’t let a partner do a lot of things, but I don’t object to all receiving. Sometimes you want it, and they only know one way to give it. Sometimes they don’t believe you when you say your limits. Sometimes they think they know better. Mac knows I’ll get mad if I feel like she’s pitying me, so she reroutes.

“ There’s other ways, though, L. Like I said. No wrong way if it works for you.”

“I haven’t found a way with a partner yet.” I look at the floor, starting to get washed up in shame.

She grasps, cautiously, at what little there is of my hair, tilting my head back to look up at her.

“You let YOU touch yourself, though. Does that make you cum?”

Fuck. Steaming heat off her eyes tunnels down into me like a hot iron bearing dropped on ice. She was staring into me now, and with my mouth hanging delicately open I might have made a sound, some pathetic gasp, if my pulse wasn’t thrumming loudly in my ears over all noise.

“Y-yes.”

She hums and nods, feigning unaffectedness. She does not remove her hand.

“I overheard you the other day.”

I restrain a grimace. I had thought I played it off well, when she visited me out of the blue and I had to rush to meet her at the door. I guess not. I try not to think about the fact that I was moaning her name through the perilously thin walls of my apartment.

She lets go, which sends my head bobbing forward stupidly. Im mesmerized. She swings herself over me in a smooth motion, careful not to touch, just to loom above me. I notice (I might have sooner if I hadn’t been staring at the ground so long) that some time between dinner and this conversation, she had swapped in her hard packer.

“How do you like to do it?”

I lean forward.

“I can show you.”

She’s pleased by my forwardness, by me displaying that my eagerness is genuine and insatiable, but not inconsiderate enough to entertain it without discussing.

“You know I’d like that very much. But don’t rush yourself for me. Let’s talk a little more.”

I pause, cause I want to do it right now, but I know she’s right and if I push through that dizziness Id snap back to awareness in a few minutes and need to step away.

“To start maybe… maybe we could just sit. Touching. Get a little acclimated first? And then I show you.”

She smiles, sitting back on her hips. I take a deep breath, and the clouds in my head started to part. I wonder, for a moment, how I could have ever thought stone-butch-on-stone-butch made no sense. We’d never been ‘together’ like that, and maybe never would, but she knew right off what was ok.

“So we get close, chest to back, and then sit till we’re ready. And then you show me how you like to touch yourself. I keep my hands off, where you can see. And you can let me know if any of that needs to change.”

I get a shiver. She’s methodical, but the words are still putting a heat in my ears. I’m glad shes doing this, I wouldn’t have thought to.

“You can put your hands around my waist if you keep them still.” I stammer, desire freezing me up. My voice is getting smaller and smaller in my throat. “I might ask you to, uh, help out.”

She looks me up and down, turning stern. She stays gentle, seeing it would be hard for me to specify out loud. “And you’ll let me know how you want me to do that?”

I nod, too embarrassed to speak. My thoughts are racing so fast that they aren’t even words any more. Just feelings and noises and giddy anticipations. She’s casual, and it lets me feel like this is normal. I can do this, because it’s normal. I chant it to myself.

“It seems like you’re having a hard time talking, baby. Are you ok? You still here?”

I cant meet her eyes, but I’m here with her. I nod overenthusiastically, trying to compensate for my sudden silence.

“It’s okay. It happens to a lot of people. I can take a turn talking, if you’d like. Can I tell you what I need?”

I nod again, happy that I’m not the only one with needs and demands, not ruining her good time. She breathes a sigh of relief seeing me smile.

“Okay. For me, being stone is no direct contact with anything under my underwear and bra. I still negotiate it beforehand if it’s over clothes, so tonight I would prefer if you didn’t touch there. I don’t have any hangups with orgasming, but I only like to as a result of touching my partner. I don’t like the attention on me. I am strictly a top and I feel very unsafe with partners trying to switch on me. I don’t like biting. I don’t want to be called anything but Mac this time, ‘cause I dont like people dropping titles out of nowhere. Don’t push my knees around too much, they get sore sometimes after sex.”

She looks me up and down. Mac knows this speech like the back of her hand- she’s more concerned with whether I do. I give another feeble nod to indicate I got it all.

“…Okay. These are the big ones, but I’ll let you know if anything else comes up. And, L- I need to know how you’ll let me know if there’s a problem. Do you feel like you’ll be able to say no verbally?”

It’s a good question. I cant even do it now. I shrug, then noncommittally shake my head.

She looks me over. “Could you use a nonverbal cue?”

I consider it. My head has stopped swimming enough to speak up.

“Two taps?” I croak.

She chuckles. She used to do wrestling in highschool.

“Okay. Can you show me?”

I pat her bicep twice.

“Very good.” Shes doling on the praise on purpose. What a tease. “I think we’re all clear. You can tap out if you want a break or to ask a question, too, okay? For any reason.” She gives this safety speech like she’s the instructor on a zip lining tour. It shouldn’t be sexy, but both ideas make my adrenaline rush the same way.

“One more thing. Um… L or baby for me.” I add. “Not as a title or anything. I just… like it.”

She leans forward and kisses my forehead, how she usually does.

“Course you do, baby.”

She stood up, taking a seat at the other end of the couch for more space. She patted her lap gently, but I hesitated.

“Should I… go get my stuff first?”

She raises her eyebrows, but nods affirmatively.

I was incredibly wobbly on my way up to my room. My thoughts were still occupied by the conversation, and what was going to happen, even though I knew it was going to be slow. Maybe the slowness of it was a piece of the thrill, like when I went up these stairs again it’d be much, much later, and I’d have maybe done something I’d never done before, and at the very least I was getting fucked by a very very hot dyke. Very very slowly, to boot.

I hurried back down the stairs two at a time after grabbing the necessities, sheepishly realizing halfway down and slowing my pace to seem less eager.

She smiled when she saw me, the easy one that started at one end of her mouth. She might have laughed, on any other day. She gave me a hard time a lot when we were just friends; she’s the kind of butch who’s always making jabs. It’s funny when it’s funny, but she knows now’s not the time. She’s being incredibly careful with me, speaking with flat words and no implications. I don’t even know what I’m asking for, and she’s making a point not to try and tell me what she thinks I’m supposed to want. She’s being very cuddly, very entry level. I’m learning to do this all over again, so I appreciate the approach. I’ve never had anyone care like that, and it reminds me why I love her so much.

She opens her arms. “C’mere.”

I situate myself with my back to her chest, pressed flush. I get nervous some times about things brushing my back, sneaking up on me. It’s one of those things that happen to you after something happens to you. So it’s nice to feel something solid. Mac already knows this and I don’t have to say anything. She breathes, and I rise and fall.

She seatbelts her arms around my waist, clasping her hands and then leaving them still, where I can see them. It makes flashes of excitement polka dot me all over. Her hands are rough from work today, and in the low light from the kitchen stove (she turned off the overhead while I was upstairs) her veins and knuckles make her look confident, seasoned. Very butch, in the way I like being and the way love seeing. I’m a little obsessed with her hands, as much as I worry about what they can do. But right now, I know they’re only going where I say. We sit like that, secure and warm, for a long while. It was a long day, and easing into each other feels so nice, but the energy of our previous conversation means neither of us feel like sleeping.

I can see out of the corner of my eye that she’s eyeing the tote bag I brought down with me. I was vague enough that I know she’s wondering what it is. She shifts in her seat subtly and clears her throat, and I realize abruptly that I’ve probably been pushing that hard packer into her with the way I’m positioned. I start thinking about grinding down into her while we do what we’re about to do, if I could even make her cum like that. I know she doesn’t want us to focus on just her, but honestly, grinding my ass into her packer like that would probably make me cum faster than it would her. I shift a bit more upright, as our postures had slumped into half-sleep. It grinds on her and It takes her by surprise enough that she moans before she catches herself, and then it breaks into a chuckle.

“You ready?”

I nod. I try leaning over her clasped arms to grab my bag, but she beats me to it and places it in my lap gently. She’s eager.

I fish out my vibrator- it’s the hitachi magic wand kind, but with a wireless rechargeable battery- and a condom. It’s been plugged in for a good portion of the day, since I rarely let the battery die. I unzip and shove the vibrating end between my jeans and boxers, sticking the handle out from my fly. I button over top of it, securing it in the zipper like I do with my strap. Mac’s eyes are hot on me as the gears start turning in her head.

“Oh.” She says, pleasantly stunned.

My hands are shaking as I take out the condom. I roll it over the exposed handle and charging port, sliding it over the buttons carefully. I paw at my side for the bottle of lube, but it’s fallen back behind us. She retrieves it, and I hold out my hand for her to give it to me. Instead, she uncaps it and squeezes some into my open palm.

I hold the vibrator firmly at the base, keeping it steady and hard against my clit. With my other hand, the one Mac lubed up, I start stroking the handle. Mac whistles low.

“That’s hot. Im gonna have to try that.” She moves behind me to get a better look, and I feel her packing heavy against my ass. “This how you always do it, baby?”

Im breathing very carefully, trying not to get ahead of myself. “It’s my favorite way. It k-kinda makes a mess, so I don’t do it every time.” I stumble over my phrasing, accidentally tugging it in a way that makes my hips raise.

She hums. “Feel free to make a mess.” She returns her hands to where they were, safely on display. My waist is bare there, from pulling my shirt up to unbutton. Her hands are warm, and I’m not scared, I’m hungry for them.

I take some time warming up, getting used to the feeling in my hands. There’s a mental step between it being a toy and it becoming an extension of myself, one I have to do slowly. The vibration hasn’t been turned on yet, to keep in this moment with myself, and this time, with Mac. I get into a comfortable rhythm, thrusting up into my hand and sweeping the base up and down underneath my clothes. Mac swallows hard, and I feel a twitch run through me that jerks the piece in my hand. I tentatively grind down on her.

“This good?”

She smiles, I can feel it without seeing. I can hear the lust in her voice when she says, “Yes, baby.”

It makes me squirm. Mac always calls me baby, since we’ve been together. Even sometimes before we were. I like thinking about it, how even before she asked me, the way she felt would poke out in odd spots, moments where she loved me too much to remember she wasn’t supposed to. I could listen to it all day.

“Um. Mac. Could you… help out?”

“Ohhh. I see.” She says with surprise. “Would you like me to touch it?” She asks, dripping sweetness.

“My cock.” I correct her, gently.

“Of course.” Mac kisses me at the base of my neck. She readjusts flawlessly. “Can I please stroke your cock for you, L?” She whispers it huskily into my skin.

“Please. Ah, please-“ I can barely wait for her to finish her sentence to start breaking into pleas. For all the permission she has to request, I’m the one who’s begging. I love how she knows how to ask, how she lets me feel in control like that. She knows that I need it, because she knows everything. But I know that she does it for herself as much as it’s for me. She gets her satisfaction from a job well done. She needs to be wanted, and I need to be understood. That’s how this works, and we both enjoy each other’s enthusiasm.

She wraps her hand around it, slowly to make sure I get a good look at her hands. Her fist closes tight around the shaft and she tugs up on it, pulling against my own hand steadying it at the base. I use my free hand to get some more lube for her.

Once she’s got her fisted hand all lubed up, she moves down my shaft slowly but forcefully.

My moan hovers in the space between soft and obscene, the kind of noise you make when you step into an ice bath. She bucks her hips slightly upwards, thrusting me up into her hand. I grab onto her belt loop with my other hand, trying to pull myself further into her. I can hear her keys softly clinking when she does it again, and the sound makes me whimper.

“C-can I tell you if I like something?”

“Of course, baby. Is it the hips?” She rolls them again, and I bite my lip at the feeling, but mostly at the sound of her.

“A-Ah, yeah, but… the keys.”

She does her best to downplay the pause she takes, cautious to make me go shy again. She decides to risk it, laughing sweet and dark. Her arm holds me a little tighter across the waist.

“God, you’re adorable, L. I like yours, too.”

The more gentle praise, the more I wanna say. She doesn’t need to coax it out, I want her to know.

“A-and I like you being so nice and not using bad language. Being so quiet. And when you use my name. I-it just- feels so good, Mac. You feel so good on me. Oh, please, yes-“

I’m whimpering my way through these confessions, most of which are a little too clunky to be effective dirty talk. But Mac really likes instructions. She exhales a rumbling groan that travels up my back.

My hips are starting to get twitchy, moving side to side in her lap, to delicious effect. She likes the way it makes her packer feel. She flips her hand upside down and starts stroking upwards, flicking and curling her pinky finger over the head. She slides upwards, arcing across the top as each finger traps the head in between ash she swoops her hand over. In between moves, she’s just plain stroking it every so often, pushing a little extra hard on the way down to make it hit my clit just right. My eyes are transfixed, and I can literally feel every move because of the toy, and even the special attention she’s giving the head, somehow. It’s making me throb.

“O-o-oh my goodness-“ I gasp out. My back is arching against her.

“ So sweet for me, L. You gonna cum?”

“Not yet, but-ohhh wow.”

She gives me a peck on the back of the head, into that hair she cant seem to keep her hands out of. I cant really separate at this point what’s getting me hot and what’s making me feel loved. It’s all just good feelings.

“C-can you turn it on, please?” I bob the base of my cock against myself.

She hums affirmatively, looking forward to this as much as me. She slips the condom upward surreptitiously, not wanting to snap me out of this immersion. She feels up the buttons, a little unsure of the settings.

“The bottom one.” I pant

“Thank you, baby.” She clicks it on.

Already, I’m feeling like I might faint. The vibrations slam into me, bending me into arches. At first I don’t make a noise, just open my mouth and shake. Then a choked grunt punches through me, and the pace of my moans kicks up. The first setting is a pulse, and I prefer to use it for all activities. I like the ebb and flow, how it gives you a rhythm and directive. Once I start to adjust, I notice Mac had let go of my cock. I lean back into her, and it stirs her back into the moment.

“Sorry, baby. You’re so pretty, I was watching.”

She reaches back and continues. I’m dizzily aware of her hand being at my waist, with fingers too close to my skin for comfort. I feel so good, but I know I’d feel better if she kept them where I could see them… where I could REALLY see them. I feel a little too heady to express it, so I tap at her wrists.

She sits up a little, putting her hands on either side of me on the couch. “You ok baby? Want me to turn it off?”

I shake my head, swallowing a pant. It’s hard to speak again. “Ah- K-keep going. Hands-“ I grab at her wrists. Mac flips her hands palms-up in response, receptive.

“Where do you want em?”

I pull them over and onto my cock, which is bobbing low from the strain on my zipper fly.

“I wanna watch.”

She smiles, and begins gripping and pumping again with the same fervor as before. She’s got me back into it, even more passionate than before. The vibrations are subtle under the dampening fabrics, especially on this setting, but it’s enough. Mac’s handjob skills are impeccable for some reason, and every move she tries is making my jaw hinge open and shut in disbelief. As she keeps working my cock, she notices the lube has started to dry up. She peeks around her, realizing the lube bottle has fallen again somewhere. Instead, she reflexively holds her open palm to me.

“Spit.”

It drives a spike of hot pleasure into me. I know Mac is sweet on me, but that little command, sweet but firm, was an exhilarating peek at her other side. I dont hesitate to obey.

The interaction only lasts a second, and I can feel her registering it after happens, clearly stunned at herself and me.

“Was.. that okay, baby?”

It was very ok. I turn to look at her, purposefully making eye contact and nodding. I want her to see in my eyes how much I liked it. I lean in so I’m glancing down at her lips over the bridge of her nose.

“Yea, Mac. That was hot.” I say it, and it sounds like my voice. “Tell me to do it again.”

She does, but this time it’s barely a stuttered whisper, and her eyes are wide. I don’t break eye contact while I do it.

She looks me over, shifting from dumbstruck to smiley. I guess I know what to say to put her at ease, too. We press our foreheads together and she mouths “kiss me?”. And then we do.

She returns her hand to me, slathering my own spit on my cock. It’s so hot.

“Ah-“ I gasp into her mouth. “The middle button, please.”

She smiles, and does just that. The vibration pattern on this setting is even more rapid fire pulses, which makes my knees pinch together. My reaction is not as explosive as the first setting was, but our faces are flush as shes kissing me, and we’re passing moans and thrusts between each others kisses. Mac’s reaction, however, is electrified. She’s moving faster, following the pulses at tempo. Every sound out of her is a savoring groan or word of praise for me, clearly enjoying having me in her arms like this. The vibrating end is starting to slip up and down in my pants, half because my grip is shaky, and half because my boxers are getting soaked. I open my legs further, careful to avoid Mac’s knees, and I’m not putting on a show when I say I get loud. Mac resumes her upward thrusting, in sync with how she’s stroking my cock. Her keyring chimes with every buck of her hips. Mac is starting to l gasp louder, synchronized to every bump or slide I can feel her packer make between us. It makes me smile through my next few moans. I get greedy and grab with both hands at the base, shoving it roughly against myself and throwing my head backwards over her shoulder.

“K-keep going, oh-“

“Faster, L?”

“Please. Please, I-“ I’m interrupted by my own moan as she starts to move as fast as she can. “Oh my- ah, Mac!”

Her hands make obscene sounds slipping up and down, and I feel everything. I respond in turn, grinding down hard into her, so hard I can feel her packer moving up and down with us both. Her movements stutter a little, and I notice how hard her panting has gotten. She must be wet, too. The thought turns me on even more.

“Gonna cum, baby?”

I whimper. “Yeah, you?”

She swallows her words, struggling to breathe. “Yes. Oh, god- L-“

I click the button one more time, putting myself right on the edge. This setting is the highest intensity, so my voice gets extra high pitched. I try my best to grind into her and take her with me. The couch is squeaking under us.

“Mac, I’m c-“

I don’t even get the sentence out before I cum hard. I jerk open and splay my legs far out over her, thrusting my chest out and head back. She cums right along with me, squeezing me back into her with one strong arm around me. She holds me tight while she cums, still thrusting. She’s fumbling her way through prayerlike moans, muttering variations of “yes, baby, so good, yes, good for me baby-“ I’m still rigid and cumming silently. She finishes out with a few jerky thrusts to my ass, going from taut to soft against me. I finally release the breath caught in my body, and it comes out in a dirty extended moan. I drop.

We pant, lying down now and slumped together. She clicks off the vibrator sluggishly.

“How was that?” She offers.

“Oh my goodness.” It’s all I can say.

She smiles, eyelids getting droopy. I know I sound silly, but she likes it. “I love you.”

Neither of us have the presence of mind to find that corny. We smile and keep trying to catch our breaths.

“Mac.” I say it just to hear it.

She drags her limp arm away from the vibrator, careful even in this state not to move the way I don’t like. She brings a finger to her mouth and sucks it intently.

“Mhhm. Your cum tastes so good, baby.”

I cant tell if the throb I feel is aftershocks or not, but I love it when she talks about it like it’s real. It’s got me ready to go again. Even still, I have to smirk.

“It’s strawberry flavored.”

I can hear the finger pop out of her mouth. I sit up on one elbow, looking dizzy and stupid. We look at each other, suppressing giggles. We give up and break into peals of laughter. She tugs me in close while we’re still laughing, and I lean my head into her chest and feel it pitch me up and down. We quiet down and I close my eyes.

“Thanks, Mac.” Here I go, saying her name again.

“What? Thank YOU, dude. That was so good, what the fuck?” She sounds like herself again, and it makes me feel ease. Like I know the person I just let touch me like that is the same one who loves me and cares for me so much, every day. “Best time I’ve had in a while.”

I kiss her neck softly where I can reach, still feeling the hot flush on her skin.

“Me too.”

We lie still a very long time, till it’s clear we’ll fall asleep there if we don’t get up and clean off. She helps me to my wobbly feet, and we get to it.

[harry-writings]

The Happy Years

- The one where Y/n is unhappy in her engagement and finds an escape with her former lover

Part 1

Masterlist

(A/N) IM SO EARLY IM SORRY I KNOW I SAID 9PM BUT IM DONE SO MUCH SOONER THAN EXPECTED OKAY IM SORRY LOVE YALL <3333

-

Three years later.

The heaviest of thunderstorms hit the city of London by early morning, the loss of the sun and the gloom of the day leaving Harry bedridden for the first time in weeks.

He always tried his best to avoid days like this — trapped within his home, caged in memories that make every step he takes heavier than the last, wishing for just the smallest taste of salvation — because it’s when he’s left alone between these walls that the darkest parts of him come out, ravaging, feeding off of what’s left of him.

Rain reminds him of the day Y/n left. Thunder reminds him of Malibu. Malibu reminds him of all the things he ever used to do with her — on the bed, on the couch, in the hallways.

There’s no escape from what he’s done.

But when the time hits two in the afternoon and Harry still hasn’t gotten up from under his blankets, he decides that doing even the bare minimum with his day would be some sort of accomplishment.

He decided to get the mail.

And what a terrible decision that was, Harry thinks, as he sees an envelope addressed to him in unfamiliar handwriting by an unfamiliar name. Something about it upsets his stomach and throws him off key, knowing in his heart that he shouldn’t open it, but it’s heavy in his hands and he can’t ignore the temptation of it all.

Another terrible decision he’s made.

Please join us for the wedding of Alfie Lexington & Y/n Y/l/n.

Saturday, September 25, 2021 at 3:00 PM.

Dartmouth House. Mayfair, London.

The downpour feels like a drizzle compared to the cries Harry lets out as he reads the wedding invitation, his worst nightmare playing out right before his very eyes and if he wasn’t already so fucked up, he’d try his best to ignore it.

Y/n played her move. She wants him to strike back. She wants to win and watch him lose more than he already has. That’s all she has left of him.

His lips tremble as he sniffles, the invitation shaking between his palms as he lets reality sink in.

Y/n is getting married.

Y/n is happy.

Y/n is going to spend the rest of her life with somebody other than him — somebody that was once his friend.

It's unfathomable to him. The connection him and Y/n shared was unlike any other. They were drawn to each other instantaneously, their feelings of infatuation never once dying down because it was simply incapable of doing so.

They put each other first. They made each other better people, helped each other grow through all the droughts and winter days, and continuously found ways to become closer to one another. They were so comfortable and confident in their company, and so every day they spent together within those four years had never been anything less than pure happiness.

They were meant to be. He didn’t see it then, but he sees it now, and now that’s all he sees because everything he sees is her. 

To know that it’s no longer the same for her kills him from the inside out, because now she really doesn’t belong to him.

He lets out a sound that can only resemble what would be a whine and a groan made together, sobbing as he flips the invitation around, only to find another saved date he just doesn’t have the heart to see — an engagement party for all the invited to join.

He’s so overwhelmed with devastation that his brain becomes fogged, his body disassociating from itself as he rips the invitation apart, growling and screaming and wailing as he just keeps ripping it and ripping it and ripping it.

He’s destroying it in the same way it destroyed him until he gives up, slamming his fists down upon the counter, losing control of himself beneath all his pain and regrets. This wasn’t how any of this was supposed to happen. This isn’t what was supposed to come from this life.

He’s barely surviving as it is.

And he just needs to see her again.

But he doesn’t know how he’d react once he does. Whether he’d want to kiss her, to hate her, to love her all over again, he doesn’t know. His entire world is collapsing and he doesn’t know how to save it from falling apart. He can’t take any more risks when it comes to her.

But what is love without fear and danger? What would it say about him if he were to walk away from this now instead of trying just once more with her?

So with a heavy heart and a sobbing chest, he doesn’t take his chances.

And Y/n simply just couldn’t believe the sight in front of her.

Harry is standing at her doorstep, soaked head to toe, shaking in his bones. His lips are a light shade of blue and his eyes an alarming shade of red, somehow wetter than the rest of him. And as the thunder rumbles beneath her feet and nearly sends her to her knees, it goes to show her that he really is here, standing at her doorstep, and it’s not just a dream.

And she must have been struck by the shock of his presence because her tongue is suddenly tied, her throat dry, her lips fallen open yet forgetting how to breathe.

She just looks at him, soaking him all in, trying to understand what exactly led him back to the biggest mistake of his life.

“Harry?”

“So that was your way of getting back at me?! After three fucking years?!”

Her mouth falls open in disbelief, her eyebrows furrowing in defense. How he could possibly accuse her of something she didn’t even do — considering she hadn’t made any attempts to reach out to him since the moment she left Malibu — makes her feel even more betrayed than before.

He should know her better than this. He should know her from the inside out at this point, but she supposed three years really is a long time, because she’s never seen this side of Harry before. He seems so different to her now.

“Don’t you dare come to my home and try to make an ass out of me! Since when have I ever been the kind of person to get back at somebody?!”

Harry stutters for a moment, his anger and jealousy and hurt blinding him from the truth that Y/n never goes out of her way to get even. Her heart is too big, but he can’t shake this feeling that the person who sent him the invitation was out to do him harm.

And nobody had more of a reason to hurt him than Y/n.

“So the wedding invitation, then? You had nothing to do with that?”

He speaks it condescending, as if he didn’t believe a word she said, but that’s not what it comes down to. It comes down to the fact that she has moved on and found herself somebody so much better than him, and he has no one.

She shakes her head as if to gather her thoughts, confused about how he even found out about the wedding considering Harry quit the firm just hours after he left Malibu, leaving him with no contact to anybody that had any string tied back to her.

“Of course I had something to do with the wedding invitations! I’m the one getting married!”

She pauses then, her cold demeanor dropping into something Harry wants to say resembles a hint of relief, but it’s much more cross than that, much more serious, and he doesn’t expect what’s coming next.

“That’s what this is about, isn’t it? Me getting married?” She speaks it through a small, bitter laugh. “I should have known the only way you’d fight for me was by being with somebody else. You never could stand being second to me, as ironic as that is.”

“I could give two shits about you getting married.” He lies through clenched teeth, his stomach sick at the mere thought of it. “But I do have an issue with you inviting me to your wedding after walking out on me.”

Her head snaps back up to him.

“Wait, Harry, what are you talking about?” She frowns, trying to make sense of it. “I didn’t invite you to the wedding.”

Why would she?

They are no longer friends, no longer much of anything, so for her to take time out of her day to sabotage anything but herself wouldn’t feel right to her. Besides, it was her decision to never speak to Harry again, she wouldn’t ever take her word back.

Harry frowns then, too, because she isn’t faking her emotions. She’d always been terrible at doing so, and the way her eyes scream and beg for answers can’t go ignored. He, again, feels like the absolute worst person in the world.

“Then who did?” He whispers.

There’s only one possible answer.

-

Seven months ago.

Alfie insisted that he and Y/n had a New Year’s Eve party. They’d never had one before, as Y/n much preferred staying in with a bottle of champagne and celebrating with a lobster dinner and late night reruns of The Honeymooners.

But Alfie was persistent. Very persistent. Too persistent. So persistent she had no choice but to give in, and she just didn’t understand why.

She didn’t understand it as days passed and all Alfie talked about was the stupid party. She didn’t understand it when he rented out one of the most expensive venues. She didn’t understand it when he laid awake the entire night before, too anxious to fall asleep. She didn’t understand it when he asked her to wear his favorite dress.

She wished that she did the moment it happened.

The clock was ticking.

“Five!”

Alfie reached for Y/n’s hand.

“Four!”

Y/n noticed something shift in the air.

“Three!”

Alfie reached his other hand into his pocket.

“Two!”

Y/n knew what was coming.

“One!”

Alfie dropped to one knee.

“Happy new year!”

It was every girl’s dream — the fireworks, the balcony, the view, the prince charming that would whisk her away to spend the rest of eternity together — yet it couldn’t have felt any more like a nightmare.

It wasn’t what she wanted. Not then, not ever before, not once during the span of their relationship, and time seemed to have stopped moving forward.

There she was, in the center of the universe as everybody stopped and stared, gasping and gushing at the sight of a man on his knees for a woman. An act of vulnerability, of love, of submission, yet it didn’t feel like any of those things.

It all felt so wrong.

She began to cry.

To everyone else, it seemed as though she was crying from happiness. Her devoted boyfriend of two years finally asked for her hand in marriage, to be the mother of his children, to spend the rest of their lives tied together by a vow, unable to be broken. So it was no surprise when everybody let out an awe of endearment, nobody (not even Alfie) knowing her well enough to distinguish the difference between her happiest and saddest cries.

Harry would have known.

And that was all it seemed to come back to in that very moment in time.

Harry.

What she would have given to feel his hands on her waist, blocking her body from view with his, taking her away from all the unwanted eyes on her fragile body. He would have done it in a heartbeat because he always did — he always found a way to help her escape her horrifying realities, even the sweetest of ones.

What she would have given for it to be him kneeling in front of her… this all would have been so different.

Her lover of two years was promising her a future, yet all she could think about was somebody stuck in her past, yet so heavily prevalent in her present.

But she couldn’t say no. How could she when everybody expected the answer he was looking for, ready to toast to the bride and groom? How could she when phones captured the beginning of the rest of their lives, ready to share for all to see?

But she couldn’t say yes, either.

She settled for a nod of her head.

The crowd cheered, some clapping, others clinking their glasses, lovers kissing. She only caught a glimpse of those celebratory moments before everything around her drowned in her tears, voices of congratulations so distant beneath her heavy, hyperventilated breaths.

Alfie embraced her, then, and she felt his laughs of euphoria rumbling in his chest as hers met his, and she couldn’t even pretend.

She rested her chin on his shoulder, her expression void of everything that she should have been feeling. And her eyes went blank as they caught a reflection of her through the balcony windows — the last time she ever saw herself for what she truly was.

-

That same day.

Y/n was a mess waiting for Alfie to get home.

Seeing Harry again filled her with so many different emotions, she didn’t know which one to start with. She wanted to cry, wanted to scream, wanted to destroy everything and everybody that dared get in her way, she wanted to disappear. Yet she had done none of it. All she could manage to do was pace around her bedroom, biting at her nails and getting lost in her scrambled thoughts, her mind and body moving at a million miles an hour, unable to be tamed.

This is precisely the reason Y/n never wanted to see him again.

He does things to her, he always has. She hardly has any control over herself whenever it comes to him and she fucking hates it. No matter how sad, how mad, how hurt or how upset, there was something about his presence that made her see past all of that. It saddens her how much she used to love it.

But her moods swing at her relentlessly, the sadness turning to anger because yes, she is angry. She’s angry that he still has this much of a hold on her, especially after everything he’s done, and she’s even more angry that he hasn’t yet apologized for it.

Because it was all getting better. The constant wondering about what he’s doing or who he’s with and the continuous string of thought always leading back to him was all finally falling into its place. She was finally finding her place.

And then her fiancè did this.

When she hears the bedroom door open, she hardly gives Alfie any time before she starts a fight, wishing nothing more than to take it all out on him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Y/n fumes, everything tainted red with anger as she looks into his eyes and feels nothing but hurt and betrayal. “Inviting Harry to our wedding behind my back?! Do you not remember what he did to me?! Do you not realize what you just did?!”

He frowns, not sarcastic or menacing, but he genuinely seems upset that she’d ever even ask him such a question.

“Y/n…” Alfie sighs, and she suddenly hates the way he’s always managed to remain calm in the most heated of arguments. She wants to start a war with it, to go for the kill, to make him crawl and beg and bleed for her forgiveness. “Of course I remember what he did to you, which is exactly why I did it.”

Her hands turn to fists.

“Are you kidding me?!”

“I wanted to hurt him for hurting you! God damn it, Y/n… after finding out what he did to you all I could think about was ripping him to pieces and that urge never left me, especially after we got together.”

He slumps himself down at the foot of the bed, loosening the tie around his neck, almost too aggressively. And if she wasn’t so out of her mind enraged, she would try her hardest to understand his side.

But there is no excuse for this. There’s no excuse for any of it.

“So now you use our marriage as a way to get back at him?!”

Y/n may not love Alfie the right way, but she had never stooped so low to treat her marriage like a weapon, ready to strike at any moment in time. It wasn’t something she used to inflict pain onto anybody else but herself, no matter how hard it had gotten.

And though she once believed their engagement meant more to him than it ever meant to her, she can’t help but feel as if that’s just another lie she’d been forced to live with.

He went behind her back deliberately to hurt somebody even she never intended on hurting. He knew what was to come of this and yet here he is, letting it all happen for satisfaction’s sake.

It feels like all she will ever be is used.

“Is that what this is to you?! A point on your scoreboard?! A big ‘fuck you, i won!’?”

“Isn’t that what this is for you?”

“Don’t you dare turn this into my problem.” She spits through clenched teeth, punching at the dresser beside her with the side of her fist, face burning with fury. “I’m not the one sending him our wedding invitations!”

“And I’m not the one staying up past midnight scrolling through pictures of him on my phone!”

Her mouth shuts then, her hard and pressed features softening at the unexpected turn of the conversation.

She had been looking at pictures of Harry almost every night since Malibu, she just never expected to get caught. She could physically feel Alfie fall asleep against her, so she always waited thirty minutes before she took her phone out, looking back at everything that once was.

It was the only thing she ever truly wanted.

It’s what she kept going back to — a habit that came as naturally as telling her best friend about her day, about her perspectives on the world, about the lack of guidance in her life — like a phone call at the end of the day as a way to unwind.

She had make believe conversations with him as she scrolled endlessly through her favorite photo album, the thickness of his accent engrained in her mind as she thought of everything he’d say to her if he were still around. And if that wasn’t enough, she’d live vicariously through the memories they made together and replay those moments all night, until they lulled her to sleep.

“I told you from day one that —”

“That you’re never going to let him go, I know. I know that he was the love of your life at one point but this is just pathetic now, Y/n. Absolutely nothing short of pathetic.” She frowns, his choice of words making her heart sink because he knows exactly how to do it. And he sighs, rubbing his hands up and down his face as if he were in agony. “I didn’t know this was the kind of shit I was signing up for.”

Her eyes brim with tears but don’t offer anything more, only upset that he couldn’t find a way to understand her when she’s trying so hard. But he never has and he never will — not in the way she needs him to and not in the way that could ever make this work.

“I’m not sorry for what I did.” She confesses sadly, her bottom lip between her teeth and fingers picking the skin around her nails as she tries, yet again, to make him see. “He was my best friend before he was anything else to me. There was a time in my life where he was all I had.”

And though her heart is still with Harry in every aspect of every way, it’s true. He was her best friend and that’s what she misses the most. There was so much to him that meant so much to her and none of it could ever be replaced, not even by Alfie.

“You know I love you but you also know I'm not the same woman you fell for in Malibu. I’m my worst self when I don't have him around and your favorite parts of me don’t exist without him. Don’t pretend like you don’t see that.”

His hands twitch against his lap, his shoulders slumping because it’s true. The most lively and brightest parts of herself had died the first step she’d taken away from him that night. Sure, she’s still the most resilient and beautiful woman Alfie had ever known, but she’s never been the same since then.

She’s still in love with him and there’s nothing for him to do about it. He didn’t see it until he saw the way she sulked over Harry that night, all those years later, with a diamond ring on her finger that just seemed to weigh her down even more.

None of this means anything to her.

“It’s been three years, Y/n. Just find yourself a new best friend and move the fuck on already. I’m getting sick and tired of this.”

What he doesn’t understand is that she is, too.

-

Two weeks later.

Y/n shouldn’t be this alone at her own engagement party, but it’s the impossible things that always manage to find their way to her.

The party consisted mostly of Alfie’s friends, considering Y/n is much more of an introvert than he is and the small number of friends she does have seemed to have disappeared within the sea of unfamiliar faces. She felt lost for a moment, but when she finally found her fiancè, he had been too invested in his own friends to spare her a single one of his glances, and it soon became disheartening to wait for him to acknowledge her when the thought of her never once crossed his mind.

So she ends up on the steps of their back porch, sipping on a glass of champagne, overlooking the garden, breathing in the silence.

She closes her eyes and succumbs herself to the summer breeze, wondering what she has to do to find a single glimmer of happiness. Her life is just so sad, a labyrinth of betrayal and hurt and heartbreak she can’t ever escape.

Darkness is all she sees when she thinks about her future. There is nothing for her to look forward to. Every day will come and go the same way it has been — unwanted, dreaded, wasted, another failed attempt of contentment. It all seems so hopeless to her now.

The champagne doesn’t stand a chance when it comes to a lonely Y/n, and it isn’t nearly enough to curb her mood, either as she huffs at her empty glass, wishing she had taken another.

She sets it down next to her, placing both her elbows on her knees, getting lost in her world of sorrow, long forgotten by her lover.

Harry is the first one to find her.

He had parked his car across the street from her shared home with Alfie, and even from his distance he knew Y/n wouldn’t be inside. He knows her too well to know she wouldn’t find her place in crowded rooms where the attention is all on her, even if it was all in the comfort of her own home.

And the fact that Alfie didn’t know her senses of belonging well enough to accommodate them made him seeth. She is an independent, a lone wolf, a woman who moves solely in her own way and anybody who’s ever loved her knows that above all else.

He doesn’t care for her.

And he doesn’t need to go looking for her because he can feel her, as if the universe somehow bent its laws of gravity and pushed him straight to her back porch steps, where he finds her all alone.

She nearly jumps out of her skin when she feels a hand fall softly on her shoulder, but immediately sinks into comfort when she sees that it’s Harry moving to sit beside her, his hand refusing to pull away.

Finally, she has a friend.

“Hey.” She says softly, one of the corners of her lips turning slightly upward at his unexpected visit. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

He smiles briefly at her before he overlooks the garden, his fingers squeezing at her shoulder before resting his palms over his lap. And there’s something about being next to her again that makes everything around him fall back into place. This is where he’s meant to be.

“Honestly, neither did I, all things considered.” They both let out a chuckle, the atmosphere between them so horrifically sad yet so incredibly right. “But I just really felt like I had to be here for you tonight.”

Despite the years that had passed and everything that drove them apart, Y/n remains who he loves most in this world. His connection to her never died, so the sudden gusts of off and disturbing feelings Harry used to get whenever Y/n was troubled had never left him. He felt it all just as strongly — her anxieties, her fears, her tears and everything in between. And he’s glad that part of them never died because the look in her eye tells him everything he needs to know.

She’s absolutely miserable.

She sighs, the corners of her lips falling as she stares at her engagement ring, her thumb and pinky twisting it around her ring finger, itchy and heavy no matter which way it's worn.

“Me and Alfie aren’t doing so well.”

She didn’t have to say it because he can already see how treacherous they are together, but that doesn’t make it any easier for him to hear.

He lost his right to be selfish with her in Malibu, and though he does gain a sense of happiness knowing he may have a chance with her again, it’s significantly outweighed by her sadness. Nothing had ever pained him more than that.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

She shakes her head, her fingers reaching up to tuck fallen pieces of hair behind her ear.

“Don’t be. I don’t really know why he decided to do this, anyways.”

Harry’s lips fall.

“Marry you?”

Y/n’s leg begins to shake, her greatest and most absentminded nervous habit. And Harry had always been quick to place his hand over her thigh and rub at the surface, meeting her eye halfway and taking a deep breath in, to which she would always follow. He hesitates to do so tonight, but settles for it anyway.

She looks appreciative beneath it all.

She’d forgotten about Harry’s subtle favors over the past three years, so to feel it all again when she has been so low and neglected feels like a blessing to her. It feels like somebody finally cares for her, and that’s all she had been wanting all along.

Harry, she feels, is the only one who ever truly has.

“We just never talked about it. It was this big, ginormous, unavoidable, life changing question thrown at me with no warning at all.” Her forehead falls to her palms, as if humiliated by the memory. “In front of everybody.”

Harry’s heart crumbles from within him because nothing Alfie has given her has been anything she’s wanted, and that’s not what she deserves.

He remembers it so distinctively now — the way she poured her heart out to him just a few months before Malibu. It was the third Valentine’s Day they’d spent together and Y/n got so drunk, she spent nearly the entire night venting to him about everything she’d feared when it came to her future relationships.

With her head on his shoulder and her leg slung over his hips, Y/n’s thoughts were so destructive, she couldn’t bear to entertain them any longer, so she decided to let it all out.

“And what if my boyfriend proposes to me in a room full of people? I’d drown in sensory overload. And what if I want to say no? Or maybe? Or yes, just not right now? With all those people looking at me? I think I would pass away.”

Harry looked down at her in subtle curiosity, his fingers playing with her hair in the way they always liked. She was the only thing in his sight that wasn’t spinning out of his control.

“So how do you want to be proposed to?”

She hummed, as if contemplating her answer. But she knew. She already knew.

“In bed, probably. It’s so intimate and private there. So non-traditional. You’re the most done down at your first hour and something about someone wanting you at your worst, forever, is so poetic.”

She looked up at him with doe eyes merely seconds after.

“Will you make sure he does that for me, please? Promise me you’ll try.”

He smiled the best he could at her, pressing his lips down to her forehead. They lingered there for a moment, and Y/n’s breath was taken away.

“I’ll make sure of it.”

What makes the memory even worse was how much he really did love her and how blinded he was to it. He kissed her. He held her. He played with her hair. He slept beside her that night. He kissed her again goodnight. He brought her breakfast in bed the next morning. He did it all over again.

It couldn’t have been any more obvious.

But there’s something about the way she hasn’t expressed any of those concerns with Alfie that doesn’t sit right with him. It just doesn’t make any sense to him.

“Been with him for how long now, two years? And you really didn’t expect him to propose to you? Have you met you?”

She sulks herself deeper into her knees.

“I don’t know. I guess — I guess I just never really thought about it.”

Never thought about it?

“But you’ve always wanted to get married.” He says it more like a question than a statement, genuine concern and confusion in his tone of voice as his eyebrows furrow, trying to comprehend it.

She looks up at him with a void, empty expression.

“Yeah, but never to him.”

Her eyes linger on Harry’s for just a beat longer — just long enough to catch a glimpse of the way his lips fall and the way his face drains of color — before she blinks away from him, turning her gaze back toward the garden. The flowers have never looked so lifeless.

“Y/n… if I had known how you felt, I —”

“It wouldn’t have mattered.” Y/n shakes her head, looking back down at her trembling hands, tears now burning in her eyes as the sudden sadness of the conversation starts to weigh down on her. “You had four years to feel the same for me and you never did. My feelings would have done nothing to yours.”

“And I never did?” Harry asks incredulously, his voice low and faltered behind the heaviness of her words. “Is that really what you’ve been living with the past three years?”

Loose tears begin to fall down her cheeks because yes, she has been living with his unrequited love for six years and no, it’s never gotten any easier. It’s pathetic and ridiculous and the most unexplainable form of grief she’d ever carried, but it’s the most devastating kind. “How could I think any differently?”

“Because it was real, Y/n. Fuck.” He lets out a strangled, dry chuckle upon his words as he runs his shaking fingers through his hair. He’s nervous, absolutely terrified because if he fails to show her how deeply he feels for her now, he may never get the chance to again, and losing her is no longer an option for him. Not when she’s so close. “Because you know me better than anybody else and you know I wasn’t faking it with you. How could I have been? You would have seen right through me and you know it. You always do.”

Perhaps the love blinded her. Perhaps her heart was so invested it deceived her to see only the things she wanted as a subconscious form of self-preservation. It’s not an impossible possibility, and it’s certainly one she believed in throughout all this time, but a part of her can’t help but find a hint of truth stuck somewhere between his words.

The kissing, the touching, the tasting, the laughing and the loving did feel real to her. It felt real when she saw the way he smiled after every one of their kisses, and the way he reached for her when it was just to two of them, like he couldn’t get enough, and the way he moaned against her, and the way he told her he loved her, like he meant it.

She knows all of his movements and all of his habits — knows all the signs of his stress, his sadness, his tension, his ease. She knows the emotions he wears and the ones he doesn’t, notices everything he does and doesn’t do, and never once did anything he did with her seem anything less than genuine.

She hates that it’s taken her so long to see that, but it doesn’t fix all that he had broken now that she does. She wishes that it could, this life would be so much easier for her to live.

“You really hurt me.” Her voice quivers, low and quiet as she speaks her truth, and it breaks his heart all over again. Never has he heard her sound so sad in his life, and it’s all because of him.

“You think I don’t know that? I hate myself for everything I put you through because you didn’t deserve it. You didn’t deserve any of it.”

He pauses, waiting for her to say anything else, but it doesn’t come. All there is for her to offer are her silent cries and waterfall eyes.

“That night with Lydia… nothing happened. She caught me off guard and I panicked because how could I not? She was giving me everything I thought I wanted yet all I could think about was how I wanted it to be you.” Y/n’s breath falters then, a knot forming in her chest as she revisits the sight of that horrific night. “I tried so hard to talk it out with her, but she wouldn’t let it go. She kept persisting and persisting and she didn’t give me the chance to explain myself before you walked in on us.”

She didn’t truly know what happened between him and Lydia, but she had her ideas. Whether they kissed, touched, confessed their love or crossed bases, the truth would have only made it worse for herself. Ignorance was bliss when it came to them.

But she didn’t think nothing happened, either, especially when the first words that Y/n heard Lydia say to him that night was I love you, too.

Too.

Too.

Too.

Like he said it first.

She really hopes he didn’t, but she’s so afraid of his answer that she doesn’t ask.

But she doesn’t say anything else, either, because there’s so much more she needs to hear from him but she doesn’t know where to start. She doesn’t know what to do, yet she wants to know everything.

“You were all I ever wanted and I’m so sorry for the way I had to find that out. I’m so sorry that I had to hurt you to realize how ridiculously in love I am with you.”

And how ridiculous it’s gotten.

“It haunts me. It follows me everywhere I go. Every morning, I think about the way you slept beside me in Malibu and how perfect you looked before you even had the chance to wake. I still reach for you even when I know you’re not there just so I can say I tried. Every time I walk the street, I somehow convince myself that I see you walk past me and I always turn back just in case I missed you. Then I spend the rest of my day wondering where you are and how much happier I’d be if you were with me.”

And it’s all so true.

She is around him at all times. Her spirit lingers in the air he breathes, her shadow alive in every ray of sun that touches his skin, unable to be soaked away. The ghost of her is everywhere he is, always, and it pained him just as much as it comforted him.

“I come across all these women and go on all these dates in hopes to find someone that makes me feel half the things you do, just to go home hours later and watch all the stupid videos and photos I’ve taken of you throughout the years because it’s you that my heart is after. Nobody else.”

She melts into herself at his confession.

To know it wasn’t one-sided — the longing, the missing, the wanting so bad that he couldn’t help but look back at all their memories together. Whether he was beside those women or not, she had done the very same thing, and it’s almost as if those hidden moments of desperation were a silent call to one another.

He reaches his hand to her thigh again, his skin warming her to her bitter core, setting a fire in her that had burnt out many years ago. And she doesn’t stop staring at it.

“I love you, Y/n. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything else in this world. I love you so much that it drove me crazy to think about you spending the rest of your life with somebody else because I couldn’t imagine spending the rest of mine without you. But that’s my heartbreak to live with, not yours.”

But it is. It is because he’s the only one she’s ever wanted and living her life with someone else was once unimaginable. It still is. Even through her relationship with Alfie and everything they’ve built together, it wasn’t ever the same.

And it’s not a matter of her not loving him, because she does, just not in the way she loves Harry. He is a high she constantly fiends for, an intoxication that keeps her wild and free, an addiction like no other. Being without him makes her feel sober — in a constant state of withdrawal, falling down deeper into her urges, dependent solely on her relapses — and Alfie is just the mild distraction.

All of this is her heartbreak.

His fingertips rub softly at her leg.

“You’re the best person I’ve ever known. I don't know how I’m ever going to find a way to move on from you, and I don’t know if I ever will, but at least I had the chance to tell you everything you deserved to know. I didn’t think I’d ever have it.”

She still doesn’t answer him, but he didn’t expect anything more.

He wishes he could stay with her for just a bit longer, but he doesn’t want to overstay his welcome (if he could even call it that). And he starts to cry as he thinks about leaving her alone again.

She’s forever going to be his hardest loss.

“I have so much more I want to say to you, but this is your night with Alfie. I don’t want to be the one to hold you back from it.”

He squeezes the top of her thigh, dreading the let go. This may be the last time he sees her or speaks to her for a while, and that in itself is enough to make this so much harder on him.

“I’ll miss you everyday.”

He can’t even look at her as he says it.

His eyes are flooded with sadness as he stands from where he sat beside her, shaking fingers wiping at his tears, his heart the emptiest it’s ever been yet his chest heavier than ever before.

It suddenly dawns on her that she never wants to see him walk away from her again. She doesn’t want to go another dreaded day without him beside her, or go the rest of the night thinking of everything she could have said, but didn’t.

She wants him. She loves him. And she doesn’t want him to go.

“Wait.” She grabs his hand in both of hers before he can make it too far, her eyes wet but the brightest he’d ever seen them. “The party doesn’t end for a while and — and Alfie hasn’t come looking for me since it started, so…” She hesitates, his hands still in hers, and everything is right in the world again. “Do you want to take a walk with me? It doesn’t matter where just, please stay here with me?”

And how could Harry ever say no to her?

He lifts her up from where she sits, the first real and genuine smile he’s seen out of her since they’ve reunited spreading on her lips, and he wouldn’t trade this for the world.

They stray further than expected, catching up on everything they’ve missed throughout the years. It all feels so easy and so right, as if time had hardly passed between them, yet they’ve never felt more apart. Never once did they expect to live in each other’s world through late night storytelling and clandestine getaways.

They laugh. They cry. They reminisce. And they don’t let go of each other’s hand the whole night through.

-

Y/n returns to the back porch a couple hours later, grabbing the finished champagne glass she’d left on the top step to seem as inconspicuous as possible. Not that she necessarily has to, she doesn’t feel as though she’s done anything wrong, she just couldn’t imagine what would come from this if Alfie was to find out.

She slides the back door shut quietly behind her, the remaining guests only giving her a small smile of acknowledgement, none at all suspicious. Some offer her hugs and mingle with her, congratulating her as if it were their first time doing so, telling her how perfect of a marriage she and Alfie are going to have.

If only they knew.

But it isn’t until the last of the lingering guests make it out the door that Y/n and Alfie are left alone — the most dangerous place for them to be. And neither of them speak a word to each other, just meeting eyes for a brief moment in time, as if avoiding everything else that came with the night.

The air is heavy, the chill brutal, but it’s what Y/n is so used to. This is her normalcy.

“I’m glad you had fun tonight.” Y/n says plainly, gathering all the littered champagne and wine glasses floating around the kitchen.

In any other circumstance, she would have stood her ground much more strongly, but the bitterness inside her subsided to something much sweeter after her time with Harry. The weight of the world is gone, it seems, the moon and sun and stars aligned perfectly in her universe. She is weightless, floating, her spirit dancing along the edges of her own personal heaven.

The silence Alfie responds with doesn’t strike a nerve like it usually would. It rather goes unnoticed, only furthering her into her illicit dreamland.

Harry’s touch lingers on her skin and she can feel it all the same even though he’s gone. A shiver runs down her spine as she thinks back to the way his lips pressed against her cheek before parting ways, muttering the quietest goodnight, lovie against her skin, leaving her breathless.

She is endlessly hypnotized by him, forever under his spell, as if his lips were made of magic.

And Alfie’s heart sinks when he sees the look on her face. It’s been years since he’s seen it, yet it’s all so familiar once he does. It’s the same look he fell in love with when he first met her in Malibu.

It’s all so clear to him now.

“So we’re just going to pretend that you didn’t leave our engagement party with Harry?”

Y/n lifts her head to look at him properly for what seems to be the first time tonight, his question catching her off guard since she had so rightfully assumed he wasn’t concerned about her whereabouts, and Harry didn’t make his presence known to anybody but her.

But she doesn’t fight it, doesn’t deny it, doesn’t try to scrape for excuses that’ll only dig her in deeper because she doesn’t regret what she did or why she did it. She has no reason to.

“And we’re just going to pretend that you didn’t completely exclude me from our engagement party?”

Alfie’s hands slam against the kitchen counter, a bitter and sarcastic laugh falling from his lips, as if she had said something untrue. “So I don’t give you attention for two minutes and you decide to run off with some other guy?”

“Two minutes? Try two hours on a night that was supposed to be for us.” It’s her turn to slam her hands down, except hers land on her thighs. “I was sitting on our back porch all night and nobody, not even you, came looking for me.” She sits down on the island stool with burnt-out eyes and heavy shoulders, drained from the reality of their relationship, tired of trying for somebody that’s never held her heart the right way. “Harry was miles away and even he found a way to find me.”

And just like always, it all circles back to Harry.

She’s never been one to compare — verbally, at least — so there is a gloom that hovers over her after she says it, the guilt settling in her bones, but it’s the reality of their situation. An old lover held his hand out to her while Alfie refused hers, and it ended up exactly where it had always belonged.

“All you had to do was ask me to be with you.” He sighs, depleted, because it’s true. He would have been there the second she called his name. It’s the fact that she didn’t that shows him how incompatible he is with her wants.

“I shouldn’t have to.” She frowns, fingers fiddling with the skin around her nails as she contemplates what there is to say next. “Is that how this marriage is going to work? Me begging you to be there for me all the time? Because I’ve never been that kind of person. I will never be that person.”

Alfie breathes heavily in response but doesn’t know what else to do or say to get her to stay. She’s slipping right through his fingers and he can physically feel it — can feel the way she feels for another man, can see the way her eyes refuse him, as if hiding away from something.

But this isn’t about him, it can’t be because it was all going so well, so much better than ever before and nothing ever pushed her away, until Harry.

This is all him.

“You know he doesn’t love you, right?” Alfie breaks the silence, her heart along with it, because she needs to be reminded how badly he had done her wrong. She wouldn’t be turning him into the villain if she did. “He lied to you. He used you to get what he wanted. He —”

“He does love me.” She interrupts him because she doesn’t want to hear it. She doesn’t want him to talk her out of this, no matter how much she should. But it’s on the tip of her tongue, almost breaking from its resistance, and she can’t swallow it back down now. “He was there for me more than you were tonight and he’s not even the one I’m engaged to.”

Another deafening silence.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

He understood her, loud and clear, but she’s speaking between the lines. There’s a part of her that’s holding back from something and he already knows what it is, he just needs to hear her say it.

So she does.

“I’m in love with him, Alfie.”

If the confession of her disloyalty wasn’t enough to tear her apart, the choked back sob she heard from Alfie undeniably did so.

She shuts her eyes, pained, unable to take it.

He doesn’t deserve this, but she’s left with no choice. She’ll only hurt him more if she stays.

So she doesn’t.

-

The morning after.

Harry didn’t know what was to come after he confessed his love to Y/n — whether it be a new day of a new life away from her, or the beginning of something so beautifully timeless, he had no idea.

The closure warmed him enough to lull him to sleep, to keep him deep in a dreamstate where all he envisioned was sunny days and the touch of her hand in his. He had never felt so light, so free, so liberated from the cage of guilt and unspoken truths that even if he were to never see or hear from Y/n again, it would have been okay.

He said what he needed to say, she heard what she wanted to hear and that’s all he could have done without interfering with her relationship.

But what he wakes up to is far from anything that ever crossed his mind.

Seven missed calls and five text messages. All from Y/n.

H, please tell me you’re awake. I need you.

I ended it with Alfie.

I don’t have anywhere to go and you’re the only person I want to see right now. Can you meet me at the coffee shop? I really need to talk to you.

Please wake up.

H?

Harry sits himself up in a state of panic, his eyes jumping between the time she had messaged him last and the time it is now. And he springs himself out of bed when he realizes that he hasn’t missed out on her yet, planning to get to her as fast as he can as he throws yesterday’s outfit, not at all caring about how it makes him look.

She ended it with Alfie.

He’s the only person she wants to see right now.

She needs him.

That’s all he can process as he scurries down the street, thinking of everything he has left to tell her to try and win her heart again. He knows he’s undeserving of it, and she does too, but that doesn’t stop him from loving her the way that he does.

His life is meaningless without her, so dry and bleak and depressing he can’t live another day like it. He can’t and he won’t because he’s going to fix this. He has to fix this.

And it doesn’t take him long to find her because there she is, sitting at their usual outdoor table, a large hot tea held between her hands, her leg shaking, her eyes distant. It's such a heartbreaking sight, and he suddenly wonders if she ever sat there after their breakup, waiting for him, hoping he’d do the very same.

The thought makes his head twitch to the side and fingers twist with guilt because no, he never did. He never went back to that coffee shop since the goodbye. It would have hurt too much, it would have reminded him of everything he’d ever done wrong and he couldn’t bear to face the person he once made of himself.

That person died along with her.

She stands from her seat when she sees him walking toward her, exhausted mentally and physically enough to nearly fall from her feet in the process. But her heart is racing a million miles an hour, her stomach fluttering as he grows nearer, her senses of anything but the love she has for him disappearing to nothing, as if it were just the two of them.

And she just needs to know if it feels that way for him, too.

“Y/n —”

“Did you mean it?”

Harry hesitates then, stopping in his tracks, his head tilting at her in curiosity but his features are softer, sadder, as if the question somehow broke him down further than before.

She doesn’t need to elaborate because he already understands what she’s asking. It was his mistakes and his selfishness that led her to question all his intentions, to doubt every sentiment he’s ever given to her, to wonder what was real and what was pretend.

But he doesn’t know what to start with, he doesn’t know what she needs to hear from him to be satisfied with his answer, or know if what he doesn’t say is what breaks this relationship.

“I need you to look at me and tell me that you meant it.” Y/n demands when he fails to answer her, tears flooding yet her face pressed and hard, committed to hearing every last bit of truth he has left. “Because I gave up everything I had for just the smallest possibility that you did. And that may make me weak, that may make me pathetic, and I may hate myself for the rest of my life knowing I made that decision but I can’t help feeling the way I feel for you.”

This is his last chance.

The window of opportunity is open and he is more than willing to dive head first out of it, but he can’t get ahead of himself. One wrong move, one wrong word, one wrong anything and he will have to endure an eternity of misery without her.

So he gives her more than she demands.

He grabs her face between his two hands, gently stroking her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs, his gaze set on hers so that she can see how deeply he feels for her and how desperate he is for her forgiveness.

“I meant it.” He breathes out, his lips so painfully close to hers, she can feel his breath as he talks and it makes her legs shake from beneath her. “I’m in love with you. You’re all I think about. You’re all I want.” He leans in closer, ever so slightly, just so the ghost of her lips can meet the ghost of his. “There’s never been anybody but you. Just you. Only you.”

Her breath stammers, quivering and cracking as she flutters her eyes shut at his words, unforgiving tears pouring down her cheeks. And she doesn’t know why she’s reacting this way — the love of her life is giving her everything she’s ever asked for and yet all she can manage to do is break down from everything she’d been keeping inside for so long.

He knees buckle as a particularly violent sob nearly takes her down, and if it wasn’t for Harry’s strong hold on her, she’s sure she would have collapsed to the floor.

Her tears, his shirt, his hands, her back.

This is the closest they’ve been to each other in so long, his heart nearly shatters along with hers. He missed this more than he missed anything else in this world.

“Don’t cry, baby. It’s alright. You’re alright.” Harry shushes her, his lips settling on the top of her head as he presses chaste kisses on it, his fingers combing through her unbrushed hair. “I’m with you, okay? I’m never leaving you again.”

And he holds her for a while, tying her together as she falls apart in his arms, vowing to her over and over again that this is all over. All the pain is over. Everything will be different now.

And it was.

It felt different when Y/n and Harry spent the rest of the morning sitting in their favorite coffee shop, at their favorite table, drinking their favorite lattes. It felt different when Harry reached his hand over to hold hers, this time with no ulterior motive.

It felt different when she held his hand back, and when she smiled down at where they were intertwined, as if they were an extension of each other.

And unlike the last time they were there together, he doesn’t have to let go.