#usually I would say nicky NO

[autumn-equinox-04]

seth: the best revenge, really, is being nice!

nick, in the distance: or murder

owen, who just made a mean joke about seth: nO PLEASE-

[justablah56]

you guys ,,,,, I love terrickrow so fucking much .,.,..,.,

please click for better quality you guys there are a few Things on this one

anyways polycule sleepover at Terry's house bcs he has the biggest best bcs he desperately needs one tall enough for him <333

[astrogre]

Astro observations 2

Disclaimer: I would like to confirm that my observations are the niche ways in which a placement may manifest, it is the way I’ve noticed it in others, the people around me, celebrities, myself and in my studies. It is not the doctrine wide broad way the placement occurs for everyone.

Jupiter 7H can have a reputation of wanting EVERYONE. Anyone with a pulse, they like everyone, usually their dating history is so diverse that if you put all their love interests in a room together it would be the most strangest group of people. Drake has this placement and he is known for wanting, going on dates with or having a relationship with Nicki minaj, Ice Spice, Jorja smith, JLo, Kylie Jenner, Tyra Banks, Sza, Hailey Beiber, Serena Williams, literally everyone. Marilyn Monroe also has this placement and people would say the same about her. With this placement it can make the native have interest with a lot of people. You can have plenty of potential partners.

Having 12H placements Sun especially can make you feel like your gifts, talents, purpose or whatever planet topic is in it, was made for others. Like serving an ungrateful, complaining customer that ends up eating the entire plate anyway. You individually may not be selfless but it feels like the planet in the 12H benefits others and not you. It feels like a fire that burns to keep others warm.

Conjuncts to the MC (planets and asteroid) show what you are most known for in the workplace, what you’re like at your best self too. Any placements conjunct to MC show what you are like at the peak of your life and how you act in your career and what are known for in your career. That’s how MC can indicate what your career is because it focuses on who you are at your best and how others see you in the workplace and go off from there. Eg. Aquarius MC conjunct Uranus and Webb may indicate you being tech savvy at your best self so astrologers may assume you’re in tech industry or well known online, but you can still be for an example a doctor that aids in treatment with technology, your MC sign doesn’t mean you exclusively work in the industry the sign represents, it just shows you the way you work in the industry you pursue

Neptune 1st housers may look completely different to their parents. Like you can see a hint of their parents features on their face but they don’t look that much like them. They can be born with features that are contrary to their birth parents like red hair and blue eyes in an all brunette family. Or it can be a subtle difference like they appear as if they’re from a different country, people guess their ethnicity incorrectly like all the time.

With Neptune 1st house There is nothing particularly special about these natives physical appearance in particular, they MAKE themselves special. The way they carry their physical body and animate it, is what makes these people so different and admired. They’re like puppeteers for their physical bodies. This is a continuous pattern I’ve seen, like if you just saw these people on the street sure -you’d think they’re pretty.. but not necessarily “otherworldly”, what makes these individuals perceived as such is the way they control/express their behavior. I have noticed Neptune here makes people VERY controlling over their appearances, it does make me question if Neptune is a subtly secretly controlling planet, if it manipulates subconsciously, like a child conveniently stepping on other’s sandcastles when running on the beach so they don’t have to wait their turn for the buckets, these natives can accidentally bring about their ideal version of themselves to reality and everyone is like who is this??? It’s more so like they customised their avatar in their head and showed it to everyone here in the physical plane. It’s like they made themselves a game characters in a world full of civilian people, that’s why they’re so unique looking, it’s because they wrote themselves .

Unpopular opinion but Scorpio Venus isn’t a fun sexy placement that everyone hypes it up to be. It can make you constantly end up in relationships that have weird power dynamics and are just unhealthy. You may struggle to be in a soft loving relationship because it’s not intense enough but that just leads you/partners to manipulate and themes of control in your relationship. Sure, it may be considered“hot” but not healthy. Not love.

Also another thing I’ve realised with this placement, feminine natives attracted to men PLEASE don’t intentionally flirt with someone. You’re already so intense and magnetic without realising it that if you intentionally flirt with men it’s so extreme like a 0-100, that it can overwhelm/scare them because of how predatory it may feel 💀. If a man isn’t pursuing you, he’s not interested because your always appealing and screaming out a mating call even if your physically doing nothing.

Lilith opposite moon natives can have mothers who impose traditional lifestyle and beliefs on the native. For an example the mother may be controlling and imposing her ideas of humbleness, modesty, and traditional masculinity/femininity on the child. Defensive, like she is everything but a mother herself but subjects you to standards she cannot even amount to.

Uranus 2H feel like everything that makes them feel good and safe can be taken away in an instance. These people KNOW what it’s like to have the things they love abruptly taken from them over and over again by others or by nature, until they may even struggle to value the great things they have anymore. 2H rules your values and self worth, for these natives it gets to an extent where they don’t even value themselves because once they finally start to accept themselves they’re shown a perspective to them that they cannot accept.

It is said that the degree of a placement shows which age that planets energy starts to become active. Not sure how true that is but when you look at your natal chart, try keeping it in mind for yourself and look back to when you first had an experience under the themes of that planet. E.g for sun, when and what age did you feel seen, Venus who and how old were you for your first love or romantic partner

Sun conjunct Lilith. People with this placement may deal with their fathers highlighting the most non conforming features of themselves, the smallest of things you do will be escalated, this can manifest as slut shaming, being degraded for the way you are because you’re not “soft”, making you out to be like a chaotic mess, villainising you. Imagine having a loud snitch exposing your most “cancellable” traits. Britney Spears has this exact placement and I went to test if my hypothesis is true:

For Britney this placement is in the 3rd house which rules communication, hence why her father made comments about her like this, but say if it was in the 2nd house it could be done by a father providing less for his child because he deems them unworthy due to their non-traditional traits. This illumination of shame is done by the themes of the house this aspect is in.

All the Sagittarius influenced natives I meet always play a loud an instrument. I’ve seen it in Sagittarius suns especially and also in sag stelliums. I have no idea why, but they always do. They play things like drums, electric guitar. I’ve also seen that they can play piano and other instruments but it’s actually not their main instrument to play and if it’s not instruments they have an interest in LOUD hobbies, like cars.

Pluto in 11th house can have one of those character AI boyfriends, be in a relationship with their NPC rpg girlfriend/boyfriend, or they can just straight up play otome games and deeply feel like they have a connection to the character, these are the kind to marry their VR chat girlfriend and play mystic messenger.

Also Pluto 11Hs if your dreams and ambitions were to be vocalised to your peers, they may find you egotistical or someone to watch out for. You are a BIG dreamer. It’s giving Azula. I think Pluto 11H natives learn to keep their ideas to themselves if they want to be successful.

Natives with Aphrodite (1388) in 1st house, when describing you people may argue on the appearance or how you may present yourself as, or who they believe you are, alike to when the men witnessed Aphrodite in mythology, they would say “she had beautiful blonde hair and a soft voice” and another man would scream at him and say “nay, she was a red haired bold aggressive woman who goes for what she wants” this is because the men see what they want to see in her, they see their ideal beauty, but can both identify it’s the same person. When they see her in person at the same time they will only see what they think she is and will not be able to see her for herself. Could indicate in your reputation, you are idolised like Aphrodite but only being liked for your beauty/the persona they project on you.

Saturn 3rd house can make you have siblings that whip you up into shape, being a catalyst or aid to your best self, whether in a harsh way or a progressive way it depends on the sign. E.g Billie Eilish has this placement and her brother Finneas is a key aid to her success today by being the one who writes her music, and Kylie Jenner has this in Aries but her sister Kendall was her competition, worst critic, extremely condescending and critical of her body, her image, her skills even making fun of her for having lip injections in interviews etc which forced Kylie to feel insecure changing everything about herself but lead her to the popularity she has today.

Scorpio Mars isn’t a fun placement either, so many say that these natives are blessed, after all, Mars is in rulership, it gives them will power, survival instinct and makes them a shark. But people don’t discuss how being a Scorpio Mars can make you hurt others further than intended, it’s like tactically pulling the jenga block excited for your opponents next go but instead- you make the entire tower fall on your their face, they hurt themselves crying and the game ends bitterly. You won but at what cost? You can overestimate what people can take, and inevitably your loved ones may become the sorry victim of your sting. I think deep down Scorpio Mars natives know how much they hurt people and sometimes wish they weren’t so intense. I always think of Omni man from invincible having this placement.

Was working as an external motivational speaker for a school and this Gemini Sun teacher was so prim and proper, he’d sit crossing his legs and always be making sure students were extremely well behaved listening for anyone talking like this:

I’d say rather strict. He was timely, efficient hated tardiness and I knew he was a bloody mercurial with that prestige desk organisation and flick of fingers while typing (such sass),I thought he was a Virgo but, when I pried to get his birthday (which was very difficult as he was professional and loved etiquette). He was actually a Gemini Sun. Gemini suns you guys have the goofiest of smiles and energy but you can be scary to work under. It’s SO funny how differently Gemini suns treat those on the same authority standing as them compared to the ones they’re supposed to oversee. They’re like 👨‍⚖️🔎⏰ as a boss, but personally like: 🌸😃🌈 to their colleagues. You guys also have very snappy and sassy comebacks to disrespect it’s hilarious to watch outside looking in how you even come up with such remarks. I’ve also noticed you guys can be sucky and adoring towards your bosses, but strangely it works.

Capricorn MC, how does it feel to live my dream?? People with this placement are the most high earning, most dominant or the most respected and well known person in their field. Whether it be politics, modelling, office, technology, teaching, literally everything.. if you have Capricorn MC the way you handle your work is with an extreme amount of meticulous efforts. You go through the small print terms and conditions, execute the process with full clarity which is what makes you guys so successful. You don’t fuck around, Examples of people with this placement are Martin Luther King, David Beckham, Kendall Jenner, Rihanna, Mariah Carey, Heath Ledger, Nikola Tesla, Jeff Bezos, Alexander the Great. Notice how they’re all contenders for the title “Greatest of all time” in the fields they’re in. When they say that Saturns influence makes you established and remembered throughout history, it’s true. With Capricorn MC, you’re probably the first to set a record in the work you do and will be remembered as one of the foundations of the future.

I don’t want to reinforce stereotypes about Pisces moon. However, I’ve noticed that you really shouldn’t jokingly insult these guys. I think it’s because of their inclination to read between the lines and the underlying meaning of words that are said. They really don’t take criticism very well because they pick up the hidden meanings, e.g I once lived with one and he jokingly told me he’s going to lock me out of his room so that I don’t rob him and then I asked in all seriousness“why would I rob you?” And he was hurt and explained it’s because my question suggested that i thought he didn’t have nice clothes. (Which is true, im not interested in menswear nor his style). Perhaps this is a me thing though because im rather forthright with what I say. Maybe Pisces moons aren’t so sensitive, maybe we’re just cruel to them.

Also these natives are incredibly intelligent in terms of understanding emotions. I’ve noticed that they can easily grasp why certain people do certain things which is what makes them known to be “empathetic or forgiving” but it’s really because the concept of deep and complex emotions isn’t difficult for them to grasp. They’re like the Einsteins of human nature. And when I speak of empathy, that doesn’t mean they they can do no wrong, that’s a common misconception about Pisces moon, there are bad people within every placement but strangely Pisces moons if they are “bad” end up being forgiven for it because they garner sympathy from others. E.g Kim Jong-un, Edgar Allen Poe, Kesha, Coco Chanel, Kendrick Lamar, Vanessa Hudgens, Hilary Clinton, Elvis Presley, Michael Jackson, Kanye West, Michelle Obama.

Fama (408) conjunct Mercury can indicate being well known for your ideas and thoughts, they can stand out or perhaps the way you communicate them does. You have an attractive mind that garners attention from many, people love to hear what you have to say, it’s like being lady wistledown from bridgerton. Ben Shapiro is an example of someone with this placement. He speaks very fast and is a famous conservative speaker engaging in debates with political royalty.

Ascendant conjunct Chiron forever being attacked for their appearance really saddens me. These natives can be treated normally but then once they do something that others don’t like, their appearance will be promptly targeted. E.g Margot Robbie (brutally called mid because male viewers didn’t appreciate her in the Barbie movie), Peter Dinklage (think he complained about dwarfism being represented in cinema but I can imagine he must have also grown up with a lot of unkind words), Priyanka Chopra (people coming for her when she married a Jonas brother), Selena Gomez (I don’t even know why but people attack her for her body apparently), Abraham Lincoln (this man wanted to free slaves I bet they made caricatures of him during the 1800s).

Venus in 10H, why is your relationship a Google search away. Everything we know about your love life is against our will. I know you love your partner but please. These natives can end up telling on themselves about the nature of their relationships. Examples: Jayda Smith (red table), Johnny Depp ( his released audio recordings), Billie Eilish (made a whole documentary about her relationship to her ex boyfriend) David Bowie (spoke pleasantly of his wife Iman any chance he got in many interviews), Kristen Stewart (cheating at award ceremonies).

Aries Mercury people are extremely motivational, they really know how to make others do something simply by their words, it can be for the bad or for the good E.g The rock (Dwayne Johnson) , Adolf Hitler, Albert Einstein, Queen Elizabeth II, Amber Heard, Mark Zuckerberg, Al Pacino, William Shakespeare. These natives can make an understaffed workforce win the battle because they remembered what you said, they’re usually quoted and the people with this placement can have really empowering but simple one liners that make you want to beat on your chest like King Kong and seize the day. Very influential and honestly the best people to have a pep talk from.

[hmmm-shesucks]

Once the foxes become more comfortable with each other, they begin to nag. Mostly little things, usually humorous things. They nag on Nicky for being too forward sometimes. They nag on Neil for his horrible life habits. They nag on Dan for her mother henning. They nag on Kevin for everything. It's fun, it's what families do. They all just pick on each other for fun.

It takes a little longer for them to feel comfortable nagging Andrew though, which, is understandable, but one of the first things they start picking on him for is his lack of communication in general. He NEVER talks. They just want him to participate sometimes.

Renee and Neil find this funny because Andrew talks A LOT just not around the foxes. He's not comfortable.

See, Andrew is fucking weird. Everyone knows this, but the foxes think he's weird in a “mysterious, murder you in your sleep, was totally the kid everyone thought was going to shoot up the school” kind of weird.

Andrew is not that kind of weird. He's a different breed entirely. He plans out how he'd survive the apocalypse, any of them. He is constantly fighting back the most wild intrusive thoughts. He is 24/7 existential crisis. His head is a wild fucking place.

But he is trying. Making progress. Trying to be more open and approachable, as Bee says. So he talks. Out Loud.

And the foxes hate him.

In the most monotonous voice ever

“Do you ever feel like your bones are dirty? Like, I could totally strip my meat suit and just give my ribs a good bleaching.”

“If that light fell out of the ceiling it would kill at least three of you and seriously injure the rest of us.”

“Nothing is stopping me from buying five ice cream flavors at once, but I'm learning self-control and Bee would be disappointed.”

“Currently having a manic episode. Should I A.) call Bee, tell her I'm not doing too great, and talk about my symptoms and how to best cope? B.) find the nearest mall and spend every dime I have in less than thirty minutes. Or C.) go apeshit and try to fight anyone and everyone who looks at me in a less-than-kind way. Children included.

*stage whisper* there's a secret fourth option but I'm saving it for later ;) (pronounced Semicolon left facing open parentheses. Yes he says this out loud)”

disappears for less than five minutes and comes back with three furrbies and a corndog, one that is obviously not from the mall's food court.

He's so fucking weird. Like, weirder than Neil, and it's awful (so good dude, the foxes eat it up)

And it's not the manic Andrew on meds. It's just Andrew. He's still Andrew. He's still quiet most of the time and he is still grumpy and apathetic, but he's also comfortable enoughto just blurt random shit out and have fun watching everyone figure out how to respond. He's found safety in his new family and he can openly be who he is without fear of judgment or rejection. He's happy in a way he's never felt nor ever thought he'd get to experience. He's just Andrew.

[m4ttslvr]

High By The Beach

sub!chris x fem!reader

one shot: where you get high by the beach with your bff chris but things get heated when you two are left alone ;)

warnings: smut, riding, fem receiving, drug use obv

——————————.ᘒ｡ﾟ𓇼･༄･—————————

Your guys' last day in Hawaii was coming to an end, the sun disappearing behind the slow waves of the clearest ocean you had ever seen. You, Chris, Matt, Nick and Madi had spent the day doing all sorts of fun activities- swimming with dolphins, taking a tour on a helicopter, walking all over the island visiting stores and restaurants. Needless to say, you were all exhausted from the days itinerary.

That's why you were all resting at the beach, sitting in a circle by the fire, recounting the days events while passing a joint around.

"And then Nick slapped the dolphin!" Matt was saying, all of you dying of laughter. Nick who was taking a drag of the joint choked on the smoke, making everyone laugh harder.

"I apologized to Mr. Squeaky!" Nick defended between coughs and laughter, "He sneaked up behind me, I didn't mean to do it!"

Chris, who was laying his head on your lap, took the joint from Nick's hand, "If I was Mr. Squeaky, I would have bit you" he joked, earning a dramatic scoff from Nick.

You giggled, Chris grinning up at you, his eyelids low. You watch him as he wraps his pink lips around the roll of weed, his cheekbones prominent as he inhales the smoke, his hair tickling your thighs, and his jawline sharp as he blows the smoke up at you.

“Hey!” you protest, falling back into the sand. “Stop that you goof!”

His head rolls over onto your exposed tummy and he looks at you with a mischievous smile, discarding the finished joint. He puffs his cheeks and before you realize what he’s going to do, he leans forward and blows a raspberry on your tummy making you laugh uncontrollably.

“Chris! Chris!” you say between gasps for air, he’s now tickling your sides while blowing raspberries. “Stop it” your hands are on his hair but you’re too weak to push him off.

He pulls away laughing with his tongue sticking out “You’re tummy was right there, I had to!” You roll your eyes. You’re about to protest when he stuffs a marshmallow in your mouth. Your protests are muffled by the marshmallow and he breaks into a louder fit of laughter.

You can’t get annoyed at his actions. His laughter is super contagious and with the weed in your system you can’t help but join him.

Your laugh is cut off by Madi yelling “I’m awake!” out of nowhere. You all watch her as she slowly falls onto Matt’s shoulder and she shoots up again “I’m awake I swear!” she mumbles, her eyes closing.

“Alright!” Nick exclaims, “time for bed!”. Matt agrees and carries Madi to the hotel.

“Whaaat?” Chris whines, sitting up. “I was about to light up my other joint!”

“You haven’t had enough?” Nick asks.

“No” Chris deadpans. “Have you y/n? Cmon back me up” he pleads.

“I could have another few more hits” you shrug.

“Alright you stoners,” Nick replies. “Have fun!”

“Niiiight Nicky” you both wave goodbye.

The fire is dying out and the breeze is getting cooler, as Chris searches his shorts pockets for the other joint. “Whoops.”

“What?” you ask.

“I…may have… already smoked the other joint earlier”

“Chris!”

“Sorry y/n!” he falls back into the sand next to you, defeated. “I forgot I did that”

You both sigh, looking up at the starry night, the fire died out completely.

You turn to look at him, his side profile stunning. You were always taken aback by your best friend’s beauty, no matter how many years of friendship you had under your belt. His wavy hair fell over his face perfectly, like a prince. His nose sculpted like a greek statue, and his cheekbones like a model’s. His dark blue eyes as blue as the ocean a few feet away from you.

Those eyes were looking back at you now. “Hey” his voice quiet.

“Hey” you smiled.

A silence settled between you. The silence usually comfortable, but right now, for some reason, you were getting nervous with his eyes on you. You felt your cheeks get hot and you couldn’t hold eye contact with him.

“Am I making you blush y/n?”

“What? No!” you quipped. It wasn’t unusual for Chris to jokingly flirt but something about how he looked tonight and the heat of his body…it was making you panic.

“You sure?” he has a smirk on his face, unaware of his effect on you.

“Yeah- yes I’m sure. I’m just getting chilly. The sun set already, the fire is out and the breeze is cool, I’m in this swim suit.” you ramble. “Can we get in the tent or something?”

“Sure” he helps you up and tucks you under the blankets, cuddling up against you.

This was okay. You were cool about this. You and Chris cuddled all the time. Best friends cuddle. Best friends share the same tent and cuddle under the same blankets. Right? Yeah! Of course. This was normal and cool.

His arm brushed your breasts as he lifted it to wrap it behind your neck. Your heart skipped a beat and you felt something flutter down there. Alright, now you were blushing hard. Like this your breasts pressed against his side and you you felt your nipples get hard. You knew he could feel them through the thin fabric of your bikini top.

“You alright?” he asked, his voice huskier than before. God, what was happening to you? Now you were noticing a change in his voice? It must be the weed in your system. Of course! The weed is the one making you think like this.

“Mhm” you hummed, your pitch high. It was obvious you were not alright. He must feel your heart beating out of your chest and your legs rubbing against each other.

“You sure?” he asks again.

“Yes Chris I’m alr-“ you stop mid sentence when your leg slides up his body and it hits something hard, causing a low moan to escape Chris.

You both freeze in place, both of you shocked at what just happened. You had just felt Chris’ erection on your leg and clearly heard him moan.

Chris is the first to move, sitting up and hiding his face in his hands. You sit up next to him, placing a soft hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry y/n, I don’t know what happened” his voice muffled against his hands.

“It’s okay Chris, don’t worry about it”

“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, i’m sorry”

“I’m not uncomfortable Chris” you reassure him. “I’m actually…feeling…the same.”

Your feel him tense under your hand. You can’t believe you just admitted that. You just admitted to your best friend that you’re as turned on by him as he is by you.

He slowly lifts his face from his hands, turning to look at you. You see a hunger in his eyes that you’ve never seen before as he scans your face, his gaze lingering on your bitten lips. “R-really?”

You nod slowly, shuffling closer to him. Your body was acting on its own, as if by a magnetic pull. You wanted nothing more than to be pressed up against him again. You wanted to be the cause of his moans again. Now that you’ve had a taste, you were starving for more.

You leaned forward and kissed your best friends lips. They were softer than you thought and you tasted marshmallow. His lashes tickeled your cheeks as you deepened the kiss, his tongue gliding on your bottom lip. You pulled him closer, your fingers in his hair. You parted your lips, letting him explore your mouth with his tongue. He hear him moan for the second time tonight and the sound goes directly to your pussy, making it throb with yearning.

You guided his body down to lay on his back, his eyes locked on yours. You could both see in each other’s eyes that you both thought this was crazy, you had been best friends for years now, nothing more. But you could also see the fiery desire in your expressions and that overpowered any other reasoning.

You lifted one leg over his body and he quickly guided your hips down to his groin with his hands. You could feel every inch of his growing erection against your wet heat, making you both moan in unison. He felt big which didn’t surprise you, but it did make you instinctively grind against it.

“Fuck y/n” Chris groaned underneath you, his head tilting back in pleasure. Your tummy did a flip, desire growing hot inside of you. It was intoxicating to be the reason he’s making those filthy noises.

He gripped your hips tighter, his biceps contracting, grinding your hips against him. “More more more” he pleaded. You had never seen this side of Chris, so needy and whiny. Every sound escaping his mouth was heavenly.

His cock was rock hard now and your bikini bottoms were soaked. “Enough grinding” your voice breathy but your tone stern. His eyes wide and expectant. “I’m dying to ride this cock”

“Mmm yes please” Chris whimpered, his hip bucking up as you slid his shorts down. “God y/n, youre hypnotizing” he mumbled, lifting himself on his elbows to admire you. Your ass was up in the air, back arched, and your teeth biting down on your lip to keep from drooling.

His boxers were wet at the spot where the tip of his cock was leaking precum. You leaned your head down toward it, licking through the fabric. Chris inhaled through his teeth, his eyes rolling back.

You reached over to grab his hand and place it in your hair, “pull it”

He quickly obeyed, wrapping your hair in his long fingers and pulling. You moaned against his clothed cock, the vibrations making his dick twitch. “Holy shit” he groaned out.

You wrapped your lips around his hard cock, tasting his precum through his boxers. He was watching you in awe. You took in every expression he made, looking up through your eyelashes.

“y/n?” he moaned as you started palming him.

“Mhm?”

“I…..I-I've dreamt of tasting your pussy for the longest time y/n, can I please? I promise I'll make it good, please let me taste you on my tongue” he begs.

You're hypnotized by his string of pleas. You quietly crawl up to straddle his face. He takes your ass in both of his big hands, pulling you down quickly onto his mouth.

Your back arches in pleasure as his hot tongue licks a fat stripe up your folds. Your head falls back, your eyes in the back of your head. “Fuck yeah Chris,” you moan, riding his face.

He’s making all sorts of porn-like noises into your wet pussy. “Just like that Chris, fuck yeah, right there”

He is assaulting your hole with quick jabs of his tongue. It reaches impossibly deep inside you. He folds it in a way that scratches that sensitive bundle of nerves, making your legs shake.

You feel pleasure pool in your belly and you lift off him. He whines at the loss of contact.

“Need your cock now” you shuffle down to straddle his lap and align his memeber with your pulsating hole.

You sink down on his cock, balls deep. His jaw hangs open, his body washed in so much pleasure that the only noise he’s able to form is a small squeak. “You like my tight pussy taking in your entire cock like this, hmm baby?

He nods, another small squeak, his jaw slack, his eyes in the back of his head.

You start bouncing on his cock, sliding all the way to the tip and slamming back down to the base. His girth is spreading you wide open and his length is hitting you just right. “Your dick’s so big, making me feel so good baby,”

“Mhm,” his grip on your thighs tightens.

“Am I making you feel good baby?"

He nods fast, his hair sticking to his forehead.

“Tell me how good”

He moans louder, biting the sheets at his side.

“Tell me how good Chris”

“So fucking good y/n/n, you're fucking me so good”

Your hips stutter at the mention of your nickname. He usually ever only called you that when he was being serious with you. In this context, it only motivated you to give it to him harder and rougher.

“Yeah baby? You like my pussy slapping down on your balls like this?”

“Yes yes yes, you're riding me so well y/n/n" he said between gasps for air, "your pussy feels heavenly y/n/n- ah just like that mhmm”

You take his hands placing them above his head as you arch your back so your clit is rubbing against his groin. His attention is now completely on the feeling of your pussy grinding down on his cock. He’s moaning and whining incoherent praises, his eyes shut closed.

You wrap your free hand around his jaw making his eyes widen, “be a good boy and fuck up into me” you pant into his open mouth.

His breath hitches and a beat later he’s slamming his dick up into your pussy, making wet sounds reverberate inside the tent. You are both panting hot air into each other's mouths. Chris starts whimpering when you swivel your hips in small circles. You take his bottom lip between your teeth, “want it to last”

He slows his movements, pumping slow and deep into you as you grind down into him. “Yes y/n/n, whatever you want”

“You're so good to me baby, doing everything I say”, your legs start to quiver and your elbows fall on either side of his head. This pace is excruciatingly pleasurable and you feel your cunt clench around his full member.

“Make me cum sweet boy” you whisper shakily in his ear.

He wasted no time pumping fast into you, his hands flying down to your waste, slamming your hips down into every thrust up of his hips. Your hands grip onto his hair as your pussy clenched around him, your orgasm ripping through you in a string of loud moans.

He spurts hot cum into your pussy with a couple last hard thrusts, coating your walls and groaning deeply in your ear. The mix of your juices with his cum drip out of you coating his balls and your spent body drapes over him.

He stays inside you as you both come down from your highs.

“Loved every fucking second of that Chris” you whisper, lifting yourself to look him in the eyes.

“Yeah?” he asks softly, a sweet smile on his face.

“Yeah” you replied, elated.

“Me too y/n/n” he kisses your forehead and you smile, resting against his chest. You both drift off to sleep at a beach in Hawaii.

a/n: my first chris smut 😵‍💫 i’m feeling things !!!! hope u enjoyed<3

— LEV ᖭི༏ᖫྀ

[shotmrmiller]

Needs must

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

WC: 2.1K

TW: prostitution, explicit fingering, and smut-ish.

ive got 4 other ideas for this goddamn escort au and one of em is MY BOY JOHNNY. oof i cant wait. im mad it took me this long to do this. I wrote this listening to rich sex by nicki minaj.

You had needs. No matter how magical, a toy can only do so much for you. You wanted the praise of another human being—the warm touch of their hands around your waist, your neck. God, you needed to get laid. But after the disaster that was your last relationship, how nasty it ended, you couldn’t even ring your ex-girlfriend up for a booty call. 

Sucking your teeth, you look at your phone. Noon. Well, maybe one of your friends you’re about to meet up with for a weekly Saturday brunch knew someone who would be interested in a no-strings-attached situationship.

—

Flipping the card in your hands,  you chewed on your bottom lip in deliberation and looked down at the business card— the color of bone with raised black lettering. Ghost, it read, with his number on the back. How you ended up with this in your hand made you almost regret having reprobates for friends. An escort. That’s what they had shamelessly suggested. You had almost choked on your eggs benedict when one of them pulled out a contact card from their wallet and placed it by your mimosa. I mean, really. Preparing to argue about their lack of sense, they brought up a great point. It was either this, someone who was there for what you needed whenever you needed it, or your toys which were in a pathetic state from constant use. Your ex called it quits because you simply couldn't find the time to maintain a proper relationship— your demanding job took up most of it. You couldn’t believe you were about to do this.

Ghost. What a name. But you suppose it didn’t matter what his name was, only that he could do his job, and with the way your friend gushed over him— he’d leave you walking side to side. You needed this. You worked too hard for too many hours to not spend your money on some self-care. 

Fuck it. Maybe he will be just a one-time thing, you thought, and sent his number a text. 

—

Closing the door of your car, you briskly walk towards the small cafe Ghost had sent the address to; A cute little quaint coffee shop. Coming to a stop, you straighten your office skirt and run a hand through your hair before opening the door. Breathing in the coffee aroma, you look around for who you’re looking for, spotting him sitting in the back. The click of your heels echoes inside the cafe, catching the attention of your awaiting companion. He looks up and rises to stand, and it takes you aback. It was like witnessing a grizzly standing on its hind legs. Jesus.

He was tall, so tall, and broad. Wearing a black beanie and covering the lower half of his face with a mask, he extends his arm out to shake your hand, and you internally scream at how shapely his arm alone looks over his long-sleeved shirt. 

“I’m Ghost. It’s a pleasure, love.” 

Choking back a moan at his accent, you put your hand in his and say, “No, I’m sure it’ll be all mine.” You can see his dark eyes crinkle at your quip. 

“If we get through this smoothly, the next time we meet I’ll make sure of it.” 

As you let out a playful laugh, Ghost reaches for the back of your chair, pulling it out with a chivalrous gesture. “And a gentleman? You definitely know how to sell yourself.” 

“No, love. This is just a common courtesy. I don’t need t’tell you that I’m good,” and in one smooth motion, he extracts a sleek, forest green matte folder from the leather business bag lying at his feet.

“I need this filled out, just the usual— hard and soft limits. Safewords, nicknames, allergies, and so on.” You pick up the folder and open it, skimming over the contents of the front page. 

“This really is your job.” You flick your eyes from the folder to him and he’s already looking at you, watchful and steady. 

“O’ course it is. I take my clients, and future clients, seriously. I enjoy wha’ I do but it will never be at the cost of another. I will not make you uncomfortable in any way, nor risk your health. I aim to please you, not the other way around. And I cannot do tha’ if I don’t know tha’ you’re allergic to latex or completely against something I might do.” 

He gives a slight cough, and you divert your attention from the paper and meet his gaze. “What’s a pretty thing like you seeking out someone who offers these types of services?” and a lighthearted chuckle escapes you.

“The same reason the one who gave me your card did— just looking for a good time, no commitment.” 

He raises his eyebrows at that but makes no further comment. Smart man. Glancing at your wrist, you check the time. “Right,” and lean forward to get up when Ghost shoots up from his chair to pull out yours. “I’ll have your folder ready for you by the weekend,” and turn your head to face him.

“Is that when you’ll want this, then?” and you give a casual shrug. 

“If you happen to be available.” He reaches out and gently grabs your hand to pull you in for a tight embrace. Softly, he whispers in your ear, “I’ll be seeing you then, love.”

You leave with a silly little grin on your face.

—

The weekend comes and you’re a puddle of nerves. You can’t remember the last time someone made you this anxious. The knock on your door startles you out of your inner ramblings. It’s time. Taking in a deep, calming breath, you open it. 

Ghost calmly walks in, and starts taking off his mask, and then leather jacket.

“I’ve one absolute limit I forgot to mention,” he says in a firm tone. “I do not kiss. It is not a negotiation.” 

Well, you couldn’t give a damn if he didn’t. Nonchalantly, you shrug and say, “And mine is that we always use a condom.” With a nod and a chuckle, he eagerly grabs the folder from your table and starts flipping through its pages.

“A’right, love. Go get on the bed f’me.” The smirk he gives you is positively wicked. “I saw tha’ you have like to be told wha’ to do.” He jerks his chin towards your room. “And take everything off.” With nervous excitement, you run off, haphazardly tossing your clothes on the floor.

—

Eyes covered with a blindfold, all you hear is your shaky breathing and his footsteps on your plush rug. Your nerves feel exposed, raw. As you lie on the bed, you suddenly feel a firm grip on the flesh of your thighs, causing your skin to break out in goosebumps. The room's cool air contrasts with the warm heat radiating from his touch, pulling a hiss from your lips as he pulls you toward the edge of the bed.

“Atta girl, love. Open your legs f’me, lemme see that pretty pussy.” The lack of eyesight helps you to focus on his touch alone, making you fearless, and your legs drop open without hesitation as you lie on your back.

“Look at tha’. Aren’t you just a dream? Hm?” he puts his hands on your knees, keeping your thighs open, wet cunt exposed. “And you waxed, too. Hope tha’ wasn’t f’me.” You feel a fingertip slide from your hood, down to your clit and hole, spreading your juices around the labia and back up. Your nerves are on fire, your pussy clenching around nothing, forcing juices to drip down to your arsehole.

“A’right, pretty. Touch yourself. Shove your tiny little fingers into your,” he pauses to suck the skin of your inner thigh, “cunt and show me how to make you feel good.” He then moves his mouth closer to where you need it most, and bites. Are you defying me? Did you suddenly become deaf as well, once I blindfolded you?” and you aggressively shake your head. 

“No! No, sir. I hear you, loud and clear.” With a tight squeeze to your thighs, he says, “Then do as I say.” Moaning, you slowly bring your hand down, starting from your chest. Your palms rub against your pebbled nipples, down to your soft stomach, until your fingertips meet your swollen nub, then move in soft, tight circles, mewling at the feeling. The groan that reaches your ears is so lewd, you could come from that alone. 

“Tha’s it, baby. You’re doing so well. Look at how wet you are, fuck, show me just how you like it.” And you do. A vulgar noise comes from your hole once you stuff yourself with one finger, slowly stretching, before adding another. It’s something, but not enough, not what you want. Not thick enough, long enough, and that thought makes you whimper in disappointment. 

“Aw, are your fingers not satisfying? I’ll help you, sweet, only because you look so delicious spread out f’me like this. So vulnerable, bare.” His breath fans over your cunt, over your clit, and it sends a jolt up your spine— but he doesn’t move, doesn’t touch. It feels like you’ve been waiting for hours until he finally, finally, pushes a thick finger into you, and curls it, rubbing against the right spot, over and over, and then pushes in a second, threatening to tip you over the peak. The feeling is intense —your walls clench around him firmly in your rising pleasure.

“Oh, g-god, Ghost pleasepleaseplease,” squealing as you fuck yourself on his hand, and when your hypersensitive nerves pick up on the sensation of his scorching mouth on your clit, with a pulsating suction, your muscles tighten and tremble, to the point of pain, until Ghost gives one hard suck, forcibly pushing you off the edge. The wail you let out is ear-splitting— as ecstasy slams into your body, like waves crashing at shore. Your thighs squeeze Ghost’s head irrationally tight, but he doesn’t care, just groaning into your core, lapping up your juices like a dehydrated man who’s found an oasis. Your body stings— prickles from the vicious high you’re riding—chest heaving with sobs from the sheer force of it, fingernails digging into Ghost’s scalp, yanking on his hair. As your soul melts back into your body, you absentmindedly thank all the bloody gods for having friends who really do look out for you. 

Whimpering pathetically, your limbs go limp, loose, heavy. Ghost easily picks your body up and moves you toward the center of the bed, vertically, the blindfold still robbing you of your vision. 

 With a grunt of effort, his hand firmly settles by your ribcage, sinking into the softness of the bed, and then he slips a folded pillow beneath your hipbones, expertly arching your spine into a delicious angle. His hand firmly connects with your rear, not just once but twice, feeling the exquisite sting of it. The room falls into silence, only to be interrupted by the clinking sound of his belt buckle. Your body tenses as you hear the unmistakable sound of plastic being torn open, and then you feel his thick and warm shaft teasing your entrance. A moan escapes your lips as he penetrates you, his movements slow and sensual, until his hipbones press against your backside. Taking his time, he slowly pulls back his length, dragging it against your slick walls, before pushing forward again, covering your body with his own. His right hand is flat on the bed by your right shoulder, while his left curls around your neck, gently forcing your head to tilt back onto him. The tip of his head grinds against the entrance of your womb. 

He moans softly into your ear, before quietly purring, “Let’s see how many more orgasms I can wring out of you, pet.” The tightening of his makeshift necklace around your throat is your first and last warning of what is to come.

—

He pulled four. Four gut-wrenching, shattering orgasms before finding his own release. He left you a drooling, sloppy, sweaty mess on your bed, completely languid and relaxed. Somewhere, you faintly hear your phone ping with a notification. Hissing as you get up, you limp to your living room, and see it on the sofa. Unlocking it, you see that it’s Ghost, sending you his Cash App information. Holding in a chickle, you send him his money and wait for his confirmation. 

It was a real pleasure, doll. Let me know when you need me again.

Cackling to yourself, you place your phone back on the table. 

Bastard. 

He knows you’ll definitely be seeing him again.

[spiderispunk]

return the favor

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Fem!Reader. Mentions of Pregnancy. Reader and Bradley Have A Son. Dilf!Bradley. Oral Sex (m! receiving). Dirty Talk. Domesticity. 

Summary: He’d traded flight suits and fatigues for sweatpants and a t-shirt. And despite the fact that both items of clothing tended to get covered in spit-up by the end of the day, he still managed to make them look sexy. You wanted him every time you saw him, and judging from the little smirk Bradley wore whenever he caught you staring for a beat too long, he knew it too.

A/N: Honestly, I blame @withahappyrefrain​, @ouralcohol​, and Bud Light for this. 

Little Nicholas “Nicky” Bradshaw came into the world kicking and screaming. Though he chose to make his grand entrance at around 3:30 AM on a quiet Thursday night, he was hell-bent on letting the whole world know about it. And so, with a whirlwind of forms, bills, and the shrill cries of the darling baby boy, you and Bradley were thrust into the throes of parenthood.

You both handled it well, or as well as you could for first timers. Working as a team to tackle midnight bottles, blowouts, spit-up and the frequent sleepless nights. You’d settled into an easy rhythm over the past seven weeks. Bottles every 2-3 hours. Naps in-between. Diaper changes. A little tummy-time when Nicky would tolerate it. 

Day in. Day out.

You were worried the Navy-issued twelve weeks of parental leave would make Bradley squirrely– the repetition would become tedious–but here you were more than half-way through, and you hadn’t heard him complain about a thing. 

If anything, Bradley took to the role of fatherhood eagerly. Sure, he might have missed being on base, the camaraderie, the planes, but he has other things to think about now. And he wouldn’t trade all the excitement for the joy of spending time with you and his son. 

Everyday was another milestone, and so far Bradley had been there to witness them all. 

“Nicky blinked at me today.” 

“He almost turned his head.” 

“I think I heard him try to say da-da.” 

“He drank his whole bottle!”

“Do you think he’s old enough to wear shoes yet?” 

Deeper down inside there was the growing fear of his impending absence . It wasn’t a question of if, but when . A mission would come, the phone would ring, and the goodbyes would begin. Pictures and grainy videos would stand in for the real thing.  

But he was here now, and he was determined to soak up as much as he could.   

Fatherhood suited Bradley. 

He’d traded flight suits and fatigues for sweatpants and a t-shirt. And despite the fact that both items of clothing tended to get covered in spit-up by the end of the day, he still managed to make them look sexy. 

It would be infuriating if it didn’t turn you on so damn much. Of course, it didn’t help that he’d opted to let the stubble on his chin get scruffy now that he didn’t have to comply with on-base grooming standards. 

For you, hopped up on hormones and the longing that comes with forced post-birth abstinence, it was a truly lethal combination. More than once, you’d gotten lost in your daydreams about what the coarse hair would feel like as his lips caressed your skin. Trailing down your neck, over your sensitive nipples, scratching between your thighs. 

You wanted him every time you saw him, and judging from the little smirk Bradley wore whenever he caught you staring for a beat too long, he knew it too. 

You try to push the horny thoughts to the furthest recesses of your mind, as you enjoy the quiet afternoon. It’s a rare occasion. Nicky’s nap is going longer than usual–probably because he kept you and Bradley up the entire night before–so you’re trying to relish the stillness.  

You doze on the couch, head pillowed in Bradley’s lap while he scrolls through the endless black hole of his phone. His thumb circles mindless patterns into your upper arm and shoulder. He hums quietly under his breath. 

The TV is on, David Attenborough going on and on about the ocean and all its wonderful creatures. Sleep tugs heavy on your eyelids, aided by the soothing drone of his voice, and the patch of warm sunlight that falls over you. 

You’re thinking you might finally be able to catch up on lost sleep, when a wail crackles through the baby monitor. Harsh and breathy, it shatters the silence, snapping you to attention. A hunger cry. 

You sit up, rubbing a hand over your face. “He’s due for a bottle.” You stretch your arms to the sky, groaning as the muscles in your back and shoulders stretch and loosen. “I’ll go warm one up.”

“Hey.” Bradley’s hand curls around your waist. “I got it.”

“You fed him last time,” you protest, turning to face him. “Stayed up with him for half the night, and changed his diaper three times in a row. S’not fair for you to do everything.”  

He cups your face, rubbing his thumb over your lower lip. “I got it. He’s my kid. ‘Sides you were falling asleep.”

“Bradley–”

He cuts you off with a quick kiss. “Baby. Don’t worry about it, okay? I’ll take care of Nicky.”

“I’ll pay you back,” you promise, eyes not-so-subtly scanning over his body. 

Bradley chuckles. “No payment necessary.” He kisses your forehead and then your lips once more. “Get some rest, yeah?” 

You nod, and stretch back out onto the couch. Bradley pulls the crocheted throw blanket over you and, with one last smile, heads upstairs.   

The door to the nursery squeals, and then you hear his voice through the baby monitor. 

“Hey, Nicky,” Bradley whispers. “Look at you. Sleep okay, bubba? Yeah? You ready for lunch?” 

The one-sided conversation continues as Bradley changes Nicky’s diaper. He asks about Nicky’s dream, tells him some of the facts he picked up from Our Planet, and shares his latest sports predictions. 

“Your Auntie Natasha thinks the Padres have a shot this year. I told her she was crazy at first, but I might be eating my words soon.” A pause. “That means I’ll have to admit I was wrong. It’s an idiom. Your mama’s the English teacher though, she can teach you all about that later.” 

You smile dopily at his words. The easygoing way he interacts with your baby. He’d been so worried at first. Scared to fail, scared Nicky wouldn’t like him. But there was no denying the simple fact that Bradley was meant to be a father. He proved that more and more everyday.  

The steps creak as Bradley begins his descent. “Gotta be quiet, okay? Your mama’s sleepin’. Yeah, you tired her out last night.”

You hear him moving around in the kitchen and then the soft gurgling of the bottle warmer. Nicky whines impatiently, and Bradley distracts him with more stories. The effect of his words are two-fold, soothing both your baby and you. You blink sleepily, snuggled up on the couch all comfortable and warm. A few minutes later, aided by the hush of Bradley’s voice, you fall into sweet unconsciousness. 

When you wake later, the room is wrapped in shadows. The once bright sunlight has started to dim. You swallow thickly, tasting stale breath. Your body aches from sleeping in the cramped space, limbs still heavy with sleep. 

You reach for your phone sitting face down on the coffee table. The screen is bright in the dark room. You squint to make out the round numbers. 5:52 . Fuck. You’d been asleep for hours . 

“Babe!” You call out. “Why’d you let me sleep this long?” No answer. “ Bradley .” 

Still nothing. The house was uncharacteristically quiet. The baby monitor wasn’t picking anything up either. Your heart twinges painfully in your chest, stomach turning with the thick ice of dread. 

You tap your phone screen again, looking for a message or a missed call. Any kind of clue as to where Bradley had disappeared off to. There’s a text waiting for you, must’ve missed it in your initial alarm. You scan it quickly and breathe out a sigh of relief. 

Almost out of diapers. Went to the store with Nicky. Don’t freak out. Love you honey. 

Panic now abated, you drop the phone back onto your chest. You should probably get up and do something, anything . There was no shortage of chores to do around the house. Laundry to fold. Dishes to wash. You were due for a pumping session too. But try as you might, and admittedly you don’t try very hard, you can’t bring yourself to disturb the peace. So you stay on the couch, drifting in and out of sleep.

You must have fallen asleep again, because sometime later you’re startled awake by the click of the front door. 

“Bradley?” you mumble, rubbing the heel of your hands into your eyes. 

“Hey, honey.” He kicks the door shut behind him. “Sleep okay?” 

“Yeah.” You stretch. “Freaked me out a little when I woke up and you guys were gone.”

Bradley kisses your forehead and flicks a lamp on. “Sorry, baby. Didn’t mean to, but I didn’t wanna wake you up.”

You draw in a sharp breath when you see him. He’s looking sinful in a pair of jeans and a dark blue Henley. A backwards baseball cap rests atop his unruly hair. Your eyes flit over his body, head to toe. He prattles on about his errand, completely unaware of the fact that you’re currently undressing him with your eyes.

Somehow, at this moment, he’s the hottest he’s ever been. 

“Got more diapers. They’re in the car. I wanted to bring Nicky in first and get him settled. He fell asleep on the drive back. He got a compliment from the lady at the register. Honestly I think all this attention is starting to go to his head. Can’t help that he’s so cute though, he got it from you. I also got more onesies, cuz I saw them in Target and couldn’t help it. Oh and those peanut butter cups that you like from Trader Joes, and…” He trails off, catching you staring. “What?” 

“Babe,” you mumble, still in your lust-fueled trance. 

“Yeah?” Bradley’s eyebrows knit together. 

“C’mere.” 

He sets Nicky’s carseat down gently. “You’re looking at me weird. Did I do something wrong?” He asks, moving over to you slowly. 

You shake your head. “You let me take a nap, and you went to get diapers without me asking you to.”

“Uh huh. So?” He looks down at you, lips pursed. “I still don’t understand why you’re looking at me like that.” 

You don’t answer. Instead, you grab the waistband of his jeans and pull him towards you. 

“Whoa, baby.” Bradley stumbles forward. His hand covers your fumbling ones. “What are you doing?” 

Your tongue darts out to wet your bottom lip. “What does it look like I’m doing?” You undo his belt and pop the button of his jeans. 

“I mean it looks like you’re about to–” his gaze flits to where Nicky rests still fast asleep in his carseat. “Suck my dick,” his voice comes out in a hoarse whisper. “Wait, right here? Shouldn’t we move–”

There was definitely logic in his words, but it didn’t really register at the moment. The only thing on your mind was him . Emerald tinted lenses colored your world. Greed plain and simple. For the taste of him. For the weight of him on your tongue. For the sound of his throaty groans to fill the air. 

“Bradley,” you whisper, lips following the trail of dark hair down his stomach to where it disappears into his elastic waistband. 

Your husband swallows thickly. “Yeah, honey?” 

You free his cock from his boxers. “Stop talking.” 

“But, sweetheart– oh fuck .” Bradley runs a hand over his face. 

“Let me return the favor.” You shush him. 

“You don’t have to do–” Bradley chokes as you swipe your tongue over his hip bone. “ Shit . Okay, yeah.” 

You spit into your palm and stroke him slowly. He’s halfway there, but getting harder with each languid flick of your wrist. You sink your teeth into his thigh and he groans throatily. The noise settles deep into your stomach, pulsing against your clit. 

You missed this. The heady paradox of being on your knees, yet having Bradley completely at your mercy. Making him feel good. Pulling him apart piece by piece. 

You mouth at the base of his cock, tongue laving at the underside of it. Bradley rests a hand at the nape of your neck. There’s no force behind the gesture, it’s more like he’s anchoring himself than pushing you further onto him.

“Fuck, baby.” His eyes are squeezed shut, jaw slack, and lips slightly parted. “ Christ. ” He rocks his hips forward into your hand. 

A wordless plea. You know what he’s asking for. Your mouth slides up his shaft slowly, and you swirl your tongue around the head, still pushing, still teasing. It’s only when Bradley moans brokenly that you decide to have mercy on him. 

Your lips part, and you swallow him down slowly. His head tilts forward and he lets out a breathless whisper of your name that has you squeezing your thighs together as your clit throbs. 

Bradley’s a perfect picture of debauchery above you. Shoulders drooped and leaning over you slightly. His face is flushed, eyebrows screwed together. The veins on his neck and arm bulge prominently. His grip on your neck tightens, and he gently guides you forward. 

You take as much as you can handle, stroking what you can’t fit into your mouth. Your jaw aches from the lack of practice. But it’s worth every bit of discomfort to hear the moans and praises he levels your way. 

“Your mouth feels so goddamn good, honey,” he whispers, when his cock hits the back of your throat. “Just like that, baby. Such a good girl. You’re doing so good. Keeping going, sweetheart.”

Your hand drifts downward of its own accord, and dips into the waistband of your leggings. You rub insistent circles into your clit to relieve the ache. It’s been so long, you think you could come from this alone.

“Look at you getting off,” he says, hazel eyes blazing into your own. “Wish you could see how pretty you look with my dick in your mouth, baby,” he mumbles, lazily thrusting forward.

Bradley cups your jaw, thumb rubbing over your cheek where he can feel his cock moving. He rolls his hips forward again, biting his bottom lip as he watches your lips stretch to accommodate him. 

“Pretty girl,” he coos, brushing your hair out of your face so he can see you better. “Taking me so well. Gonna make me come.”

You moan, and Bradley chuckles.

“That what you want? Want me to come down your throat?” 

You blink up at him, pleading with watery eyes. You wanted it more than anything. 

“Yeah? Gonna swallow every drop, like a good girl?” The thought sends a shudder down his spine. “My good girl. Won’t last long with you looking at me like that.” 

That’s the plan . 

You move the hand on his thigh around to gently squeeze his balls, and Bradley thrusts forward sharply.

“ Shit –sorry, baby.” His thumb brushes at the newly shed tears that track down your face. “You okay?” The fire in his eyes dies slightly as he searches your gaze for any sign of pain or reluctance to continue. 

Instead the only thing he finds there is hunger and greed. 

This time when you squeeze, you’re ready for his reaction. You take his next roll of his hips easily. And the next, and the next. Letting Bradley gently fuck your face. He was close, you could tell by the slur of his words, the inconsistent buck of his hips. 

“Goddammit,” Bradley says through gritted teeth. His fingers snag into your hair, tugging at the nape. “Gonna fucking kill me, honey.” His chest heaves with shallow breaths. “‘M gonna come, sweetheart. You ready for me?” 

Please, oh please . Your thoughts chant, words blurring into a slurry. You hope your eyes convey the desperation you feel. 

Bradley’s eyes roll into the back of his head. He bites his pointer finger, trying to muffle the shameless groan he lets out as he unravels. 

You take all he gives, and he gives you so much. His cum coats your throat, and you swallow as much as you can, but you have to pull away for air. The last dribbles of his cum paint your lower lip and drip down your chin. You tilt your head back and stick your tongue out to show off your empty mouth. 

Bradley stares at you, eyes crossed and unfocused. He pushes his hat off and runs a hand over his face and through his hair. “Holy shit,” he mutters. “Fuck, baby.” 

He swipes at your lip, smearing the cum and spit into your skin. “Don’t look at me like that.” 

“Like what?” You smirk. 

“All innocent and shit.” Bradley pushes his ring finger into your mouth. “I’ll fuck you right here.” 

You clean the digit off with your tongue and pull away with a pop . “You promise?” You arc an eyebrow up.

“Fuck.” He leans down and gives you a kiss that leaves your toes curling. “Give me five minutes to put Nicky in bed, and I’ll be right back.” He whispers. 

You lean back and peel your shirt from your body. “ Tick tock .” 

Bradley bites his bottom lip, eyes sliding hungrily over your body. “Don’t go anywhere.” He points a stern finger at you. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you chuckle. “Hurry up so you can fuck me.” 

He grabs the carseat, and still manages to be gentle despite his obvious excitement. “Five minutes, baby, I promise.” 

Bradley’s never one to break a promise. 

[emjayewrites]

Private Landing (Lewis Hamilton Fanfic) (3/?)

SUMMARY: In the high-speed world of Formula One, Lewis Hamilton subtly introduces a mysterious partner via Instagram after a slight mishap during an interview. Sparking media intrigue, everyone wants to know: who is the enigmatic figure that calls herself Mrs. Hamilton?

INSPO: this post

PAIRINGS: Sir Lewis Hamilton x Aurora "Rorie" Phillips-Hamilton (faceclaim is Justine Skye)

WARNINGS: drama, angst, sexual content, formula one b.s., pre-established relationship (with flashbacks). RATED M (18+)

TAGLIST: @queenshikongo3 @cocobutterqwueen @httpsserene @mauvecherie-writes @galatially @pausmoon @a-moment-captured @nikki01234 @yeea-nah @sirlew44 @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @weetjy @lewisroscoelove @hxneyclouds @questionable-behaviour @marzzrambles @lovebittenbyevans @tian-monique @alika-4466 @saintslewis @cherry2stems @mitruscity @burberryfilms @planetmimi @woderfulkawaii @d3kstar @liamundi @trinitoldyouso @scorpiobleue @pharaohanubis0 @certifiedlesbianbaddie @blveeeeeee @sugardontbesweet @omgsuperstarg @bluesole16 @serpenttines-library @peyiswriting @royallyprincesslilly @galatially @jasmindaughteroftheworld @laptiteantillaise

A/N: Please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the taglist. The headers/dividers are by @inklore

CHAPTER 3: Nowhere to Hide, Baby

Flashback to October 2018, Manhattan

The dim lights of the bar at SoHo House illuminated the room, casting an amber glow onto every surface, and Lewis couldn't help but feel a tinge of excitement coursing through his veins. This year marked a turning point in his racing career, he was on the precipice of winning his fifth World Driver's Championship, and he was determined to savor every moment of it.

Seated at the sleek wooden bar, Lewis tapped his fingers aimlessly against the smooth surface, replaying the day's events in his head. From seeing his face plastered across Times Square to back-to-back interviews, it had been a long day full of press obligations. But despite his exhaustion, he couldn't shake off the adrenaline coursing through him for this week's race in Austin, Texas.

And then, amidst the chatter and clinking of glasses, Lewis's gaze landed on her. She stood among her coworkers, her vibrant red midi dress catching his eye like a beacon in the dark. Her mischievous laughter and sparkling eyes drew him in, captivating him completely. The noise of the bar faded into the background as he focused solely on this enchanting woman before him.

His eyes scanned her body hungrily, appreciating every curve and how the color of her dress complemented her deep skin tone. Lewis was known for his love of women, some would say too much as rumors swirled about his revolving door of relationships. But after an eight-year-long relationship, what else was a man to do? His most recent "flavor of the month" was rapper Nicki Minaj - he enjoyed her bold personality and unapologetic confidence, but he knew she wasn't wifey material. They were just casual, so nothing really mattered anyway.

Driven by an irresistible force, Lewis found himself standing up from his seat and striding confidently towards her. As he closed the distance between them, a symphony of emotions stirred within him - excitement, nerves, and vulnerability. He had conquered countless racetracks, but this was uncharted territory.

With each step, Lewis exuded swagger and cockiness. When he reached her side, interrupting her conversation with friends, he mustered all the confidence he had left and extended his hand towards her.

"I'm Lewis," he introduced himself with a charming grin. He watched as her big, brown eyes skimmed over his hand before meeting his gaze. She had an inscrutable expression on her stunning face, but he knew that his usual dazzling smile and flirty batting of eyelashes could make any woman melt at his feet. So surely, she wouldn't be any different, right?

"I couldn't give any fucks," she declared boldly before taking a long sip of her martini. "Isn't it rude to barge into someone's conversation?"

Well damn, excuse me, he thought, taken aback by her brazenness.

He nodded slowly, dropping his hand at his side and biting the inside of his cheek. For the first time in a while, he had met someone who wasn't swayed by his charm. And yet, there was something about her that made him crave her attention and approval. She maintained an air of nonchalance as their eyes locked in a silent standoff.

"My apologies," he responded with a playful smirk, breaking the tension. "Can we start over?"

She chuckled, surprised and intrigued by his audacity. On the other hand, her friends were wide-eyed and nudging her, probably trying to figure out who he was. But despite it all, Lewis couldn't help but admire her confidence and effortless grace. Placing a finger on her chin, she hummed for a moment as if considering his request.

Her voice was low and seductive as she replied, "Sure..." causing him to inwardly cheer. "But only if you buy me another drink."

"Deal," he said quickly, leaning against the bar beside her and signaling the bartender for another round of drinks. "What brings you here tonight?" He couldn't hide his curiosity, his genuine interest shining in his eyes.

She shrugged casually. "Just winding down after a long day at the office," she answered, finishing her martini with a satisfied sigh before setting the empty glass on the counter. "I don't usually frequent bars like this, but my coworkers insisted on celebrating a recent success."

Lewis nodded, mesmerized by the way her eyes danced with mischief when she spoke. He couldn't resist the urge to challenge her. "Well, I'm glad they did," he said smoothly,his thumb lightly caressing her exposed skin. "Otherwise, I wouldn't have had the chance to meet someone as beautiful as you."

She raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by his smooth talk. "You must be a real ladies' man," she remarked dryly.

Lewis chuckled. "I have my moments," he admitted with a smirk.

"I'll bet," she replied sarcastically. "So what do you do for a living?"

"I work with cars," Lewis responded casually, keeping his true job as a highly respected Formula One driver a secret, at least for now.

"Oh, a car guy," she said with a smirk of her own. "I guess that explains the cocky attitude."

Lewis couldn't help but laugh at her quick wit. He was intrigued by her and wanted to get to know her better. "What's your name?"

She glanced at him with a sly smile before answering, "Why don't you guess?"

"Hmm…" Lewis pretended to think for a moment before responding with a teasing tone. "Is it Angelina Jolie? Because you're definitely an angel."

She rolled her eyes playfully at his cheesy pick-up line but couldn't hide the small smile forming on her lips.

"Nope, not quite," she replied with a grin. "But nice try. My name is Aurora, but I go by Rorie."

"Rorie," he repeated in a deep voice. Although he was a cocky bastard, she couldn't deny that his British accent was incredibly sexy.

"Yeah," she said, glancing away to search for her friends. With his sexy voice and intense gaze, she felt herself melting, which was unusual because she never cracked under pressure. She quickly spotted her friends in a nearby booth and was about to gesture for them to come back over when he spoke again.

"A gorgeous name for a gorgeous woman," he flirted, his hands leaving her forearm to lightly graze the side of her face – something that made her extremely uncomfortable.

"What the hell do you think you're doing—"

"Do you know what would make your name even more beautiful, Aurora?" he interrupted with a smug smile.

Amused, she rolled her eyes and asked, "What?"

"My last name attached to it."

Rorie's fame and influence were rapidly growing, captivating audiences all over the world. The media was obsessed with her, from interviewing her childhood friends to writing detailed pieces about her upbringing in Williamsport. It seemed like everyone couldn't get enough of her.

But with this level of attention came its own set of challenges for Rorie. She was constantly under a microscope, with every aspect of her life scrutinized and analyzed.

Despite their hectic schedules, Rorie and Lewis were determined to make their marriage and family work. However, with both of them immersed in their respective careers, worry crept into Rorie's mind.

Still, she couldn't contain her excitement as she awaited news from Yael about a potential partnership with Lancôme. After a successful meeting with the company, she eagerly waited for more details on the lucrative collaboration. Meanwhile, Lewis was preparing for his upcoming trip to England for the Silverstone race. He made sure to spend quality time with Rorie and Lyric before departing, knowing he would be away for some time.

As was their custom whenever he was home, Lewis and Rorie woke up early to go for a jog through the streets of Monaco. The sun was just starting to rise, casting a golden glow over the picturesque city. They ran side by side, taking in the beautiful views of the ocean and the luxurious yachts docked in the harbor. As they jogged, they talked about their plans for the day and caught up on each other's lives. Rorie couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness knowing that Lewis would soon be leaving for his race in England. She cherished these moments together and wished that they could spend more time as a family, but she also knew that Lewis's career was important to him and she didn't want to hold him back.

She supported him wholeheartedly, just as he did for her.

"You got it, move that ass!" Lewis cheered her on as they ran up a steep hill near their home. He playfully smacked her butt a few times, making her swat his hand away. "You always struggle with this hill, even though we've done it over a thousand times," he teased.

"Shut up," she replied, gasping for breath as she paused to wipe the sweat off her forehead. Staying in shape was important to her, but running up hills was her weakness. She placed her hands on her knees and bent over to catch her breath. Her braids, pulled back into a high ponytail, swung into her face.

"You okay, babe?" asked Lewis as he knelt beside her. Despite the sweat dripping down his face and darkening his gray muscle shirt, he still looked incredibly attractive. She couldn't help but give him a thorough once-over.

"I'm fine," she replied with a smirk. "But don't act like you're not enjoying the view as much as I am."

Lewis clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "Here I am trying to check on you and you're already trying to flirt with me. Shameful." He leaned in for a quick kiss before helping her stand back up.

Rorie chuckled, the sound laced with a hint of seduction. "Well, baby," she began, her voice dropping to a sultry tone, "you're just too damn sexy for me not to try and flirt with you." She reached out and ran her fingers through the sweat-dampened hair at the nape of his neck, causing a shiver to ripple down his spine.

Lewis couldn't help but smirk, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh really? And here I thought I was just being a concerned husband."

Rorie stepped closer, the heat between them palpable. "Concerned or not, I know what you're thinking," she whispered, her breath dancing across his lips. "You want me as much as I want you."

Unable to resist any longer, Lewis pulled her into a passionate kiss. Their lips melded together, their tongues dancing in harmony as their bodies pressed against each other. His hands trailed sensually along her curves.

Rorie moaned into his mouth, surrendering to the pleasure coursing through her body, and deepened the kiss, pressing herself even closer to him.

They had been married for four years, but their chemistry was still as intense and intoxicating as it was when they first met. Rorie couldn't help but feel grateful that she had found someone who not only loved and supported her but also lit a fire within her like no one else could.

As they reluctantly broke apart for air, Lewis rested his forehead against hers. "God, I love you," he breathed out.

"I love you too," Rorie replied with a smile.

"What the fuck?" Lewis's eyes flickered behind Rorie, causing her to turn around. "Look over there. Who is that?" Lewis's voice was tense as he pointed to a man near a parked car, taking photos of them.

Rorie tried to appear composed, and she squinted in an attempt to identify him, but all she could make out was a mass of unruly curls that seemed vaguely familiar. "I have no idea," she responded. "Maybe some strange paparazzo?"

"In our neighborhood, babe? When have you ever seen paparazzi? They shouldn't even be out here; it's illegal."

Lewis glanced back at the man, who was now walking away with his camera. "I don't like this," he muttered, pulling Rorie closer to him protectively.

"Me neither," Rorie agreed, her heart racing with unease. "Let's just go home and forget about it."

But as they made their way back to their house, Rorie couldn't shake off the feeling of being watched. She kept looking over her shoulder nervously, but there was no sign of the paparazzi or anyone else.

Once they were safely inside their house, Lewis locked all the doors and windows before turning to Rorie with a concerned expression.

"Do you think someone is following us?" he asked, his voice serious.

"I don't know," Rorie replied with a shrug. "But let's not jump to conclusions. Maybe it was just a random guy trying to get some scandalous photos for money."

Lewis didn't look convinced, but he didn't press the matter further. Instead, he pulled Rorie into a comforting hug.

"I'll always protect you, no matter what," he whispered into her ear.

Rorie smiled and snuggled closer to him. "I know you will."

But even as she tried to relax in his arms, her mind kept going back to the mysterious man with the camera. Who was he and why was he taking pictures of them? And more importantly, how did he even know where they lived?

Lewis seemed to know exactly what she was thinking and offered a solution. "I'll arrange for extra security at the house while I'm away."

"That would be great," she responded sincerely.

"Actually, why don't you and Lyric join me at Silverstone? It's a safe place, and my parents will also be there."

He gently held her face in his hands and gazed into her eyes with intensity. "And Kaiden and Willow will be there too. It's been too long since Lyric has seen his cousins."

Rorie rolled her eyes playfully. "It's only been two months."

"Exactly, that's too long."

Rorie hesitated for a moment before nodding in agreement. She trusted Lewis to keep her safe, and she didn't want to deprive Lyric of spending time with his cousins.

"Okay," she said finally. "We'll go."

Lewis grinned. "Thank you."

Rorie navigated through the busy crowds in the Silverstone paddock, where fans were eagerly anticipating the start of the British Grand Prix. The electric atmosphere was a testament to the prestige of this legendary track and its significance in the world of Formula One racing. For Lewis, Silverstone held special memories as the place where he had achieved some of his greatest victories, and she had no doubt he would continue to excel this weekend. This race was crucial for him - not just because it was his home Grand Prix, but also because he aimed to overtake Red Bull and claim P1.

She scanned the sea of helmets on the pit lane and felt a surge of pride as she spotted her husband's iconic helmet design, emblazoned with the number 44. She could see Lewis amidst the chaos, his muscled frame a stark contrast against the sea of mechanics, engineers, and crew members swarming around him. Despite the recent attention on their marriage, she knew that he would always be the same person she fell in love with - determined, passionate, and unwaveringly loyal.

"Mrs. Hamilton!" a lively voice with an Australian lilt chimed in singsong, causing her to shift her attention towards one of her other beloved drivers on the grid - Daniel Ricciardo; his toothy grin and bright brown eyes lighting up the room.

Rorie smiled and hugged him warmly. Her friendship with Daniel went beyond the racing world - they had bonded over their love for music and art, often exchanging playlists and art recommendations.

"How are you, Dan?" she asked as they pulled away from the embrace.

"Can't complain," he replied with a shrug. "How are you? How's my nephew?"

Rorie smiled at the mention of Lyric. "He's doing great, but he's getting to be a pain in my ass. He discovered the word 'no' last weekend so he's been using it quite often."

"Like father, like son," Daniel joked.

Rorie laughed and playfully swatted his arm. "Hey, Lewis is not that bad."

"Oh, I know," Daniel said with a smirk. "But it's always so much fun teasing you about it."

Rorie rolled her eyes but couldn't help smiling at their banter. They chatted for a few more minutes before Lewis joined them, dressed in his racing suit and helmet in hand.

"Hey mate," Daniel greeted him with a pat on the back. "Feeling confident for your home race?"

Lewis grinned. "Always."

A swell of admiration coursed through Rorie as she observed her husband seamlessly interact with his fellow racers. Despite their fierce competition on the track, they all shared a deep bond off it - a quality she found endearing about the world of Formula One.

Lewis gave Rorie one last kiss before heading out onto the track for the race. The paparazzi went into a frenzy, their cameras flashing wildly to capture the moment between the famous race car driver and his stunning wife. Rorie then made her way to their private box overlooking the starting grid, where she would watch the race alongside Lewis's family. She greeted Lewis's father, Anthony, with a warm hug and kiss on the cheek before turning to his stepmother, Linda.

"Rorie dear, you look radiant," Linda gushed, grasping her hands in hers. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm feeling great, thank you," Rorie replied with a smile. "Excited for the race."

Linda beamed. "I can't believe this is Lewis's home race. It feels like just yesterday he was just starting in karting."

Rorie nodded in agreement. "Time flies."

Their conversation was interrupted by the excited squeals of Kaiden and Willow as they ran up to them.

"Auntie Rorie!" Willow exclaimed, throwing herself into Rorie's arms for a hug.

Rorie chuckled and hugged her back tightly before ruffling Kaiden's hair.

"Hey there champ," she said with a wink.

Kaiden beamed up at her before running off to Lyric who was playing with his toy cars on the floor.

"You know they adore you," Linda commented with a smile as she watched the children play with Roscoe.

"I adore them too," Rorie replied sincerely.

Nicolas greeted his sister-in-law with a handshake, flashing a grin at her. "Hey sis," he said.

Rorie mirrored his gesture and replied, "Hey bro."

He chuckled. "You still remember our secret handshake, huh?"

"Of course," Rorie laughed. "It's one of those things you never forget."

Rorie settled into her seat next to Linda and Anthony, eagerly anticipating Lewis's race. The air was charged with excitement as the drivers revved their engines on the starting grid. As soon as the lights went out, they shot off down the track in a blur of speed and color.

"He's doing well so far," Anthony remarked, checking the live updates on his phone.

"Of course he is," Rorie replied proudly, her gaze fixed on Lewis's car as it weaved its way through the other racers.

The race was intense and nerve-wracking, but ultimately ended with Lewis securing a third-place finish. The crowd erupted into cheers and applause as he crossed the finish line.

It wasn't the place everyone wanted for Lewis, especially at his home race, but at least he made podium. Rorie excused herself and made her way toward the pit lane, where the drivers were being interviewed by the media.

Amid the chaotic scene, Carmen, George's girlfriend, and Lily, Alex Albon's girlfriend, were engaged in conversation near the pit wall. When Rorie approached, Carmen's eyes lit up and she immediately pulled her into a tight embrace. Lily joined in as well, welcoming Rorie with a warm smile.

"Oh my gosh, it's been so long since we've seen you!" Carmen exclaimed with genuine excitement. "We have so much to catch up on!"

She hadn't seen Carmen and Lily in person since the Monaco Grand Prix.

"I know, it's been too long," Rorie replied, hugging them back. "How have you both been?"

"Busy as always," Lily replied with a laugh. "Alex has been training non-stop for this race."

Carmen nodded in agreement. "And George has been working hard too. It's been tough with all the changes in the regulations this season."

Rorie listened intently as they talked about their partners' racing careers and the challenges they faced in the sport.

"How about you?" Lily asked, turning to Rorie. "How's everything with Lewis going?"

Rorie smiled softly at the mention of Lewis. "Everything is great. He's doing well and I'm really proud of him."

"I can imagine," Carmen said with a smile. "I saw the pictures of you attending shows at Paris Fashion Week. You looked stunning."

"Thank you," Rorie responded modestly. "It was all my team. I was just wearing the clothes."

"Well, you were definitely wearing them, Ro," complimented Lily. "That dress for Jean Paul Gaultier is my personal fave."

The conversation then turned to their plans of meeting up for dinner and the possibility of planning a girls' trip. After saying goodbye to Carmen and Lily, Rorie went inside the Mercedes garage where Lewis was still busy debriefing with his engineers.

"Hey babe," Lewis greeted Rorie with a kiss on her cheek as soon as he saw her.

"Hey Pookie," Rorie replied with a grin. "You did amazing out there."

Lewis shrugged nonchalantly. "Could've done better."

Rorie rolled her eyes playfully at his competitive attitude before reminding him about their plans for the evening.

"Oh right, I almost forgot about dinner," Lewis said with a smile. "I'll be done in an hour or two then we can leave to get ready."

Tonight's occasion was not just any ordinary dinner; it was a pre-celebration of Lyric and Rorie's birthday next week with Lewis' family.

"Alright, sounds good."

As promised, an hour and a half later, Lewis emerged from the garage, ready to head back to their hotel.

The dinner was held at a fancy restaurant near Piccadilly Circus in London. As they made their way into the private dining room, Rorie was met with warm hugs and beaming smiles from Lewis' sisters Samantha and Nicola, as well as his mother, Carmen.

"Happy early birthday, babe!" Nicola exclaimed as she handed Rorie a beautifully wrapped package.

Rorie's face lit up with surprise and gratitude as she opened the gift to a personalized photo album filled with memories from their past vacations and family gatherings. Rorie flipped through the pages of the photo album, and she couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with emotion. Every photo captured a special memory, from their trip to Greece where Lewis proposed to her to their recent family trip to Bali. She couldn't believe how much her life had changed since meeting Lewis.

"Thank you so much," Rorie said, wiping a tear from her eye.

"We had so much fun putting this together," Carmen replied with a smile. "It's not every day that my son meets someone as amazing as you."

Rorie's cheeks warmed at the compliment and hugged Carmen tightly. She was grateful to have such a supportive second family in Lewis' family.

The rest of the night was spent catching up and enjoying each other's company over delicious food and drinks.

Anthony and Linda surprised Lyric with an electric toddler car, causing Lewis to burst into laughter.

"Dad, what is this?" he exclaimed between chuckles as he watched his father place Lyric into the miniature car. "No way! Are you serious?"

Anthony's expression remained serious. "Why are you laughing? I'm just trying to get him ready," he replied, turning to his grandson. "A few more years and we'll have you racing on a track, Lyric."

Lyric babbled out a reply, his small hands fiddling with the steering wheel.

"He can barely talk and you've got my son driving for Merc?" Lewis chuckled, shaking his head in mock disapproval at his father. "What if he wants to be a footballer or something?"

"Pfft." Anthony gave him a dismissive wave, his fingers already moving deftly over the car's controller. "No way, he's going into the family business."

Rorie and Lewis exchanged a meaningful look, both knowing what the other was thinking. He wanted Lyric to have nothing to do with Formula One, and he knew how passionate his father could get. They had talked about it before, but Lewis was hesitant to bring it up with his father, especially in front of everyone, yet he realized that he had to have that conversation soon.

The low hum of the car's engine filled the air, distracting them both, and Lyric's little fingers held the wheel with determination as the vehicle started to move.

Lewis couldn't help but feel pride as he watched his son confidently sit in the car. "He's a natural," Lewis remarked with a smile.

"Of course, he is," Anthony interjected, "after all, he's a Hamilton."

Rorie and Lewis set off on a short getaway to Ibiza, basking in the warmth of the tropical sun with a group of friends. The island welcomed them with open arms, its crystal clear waters sparkling in the light. They spent their days lounging on a luxurious yacht and their nights engulfed in music, dancing, and laughter.

Amidst the joyful celebration, Rorie received the incredible news from Yael that Lancome had selected her as their newest brand ambassador. As if that wasn't enough, Bustle magazine also reached out for an exclusive interview with her.

But just when she thought things couldn't get any better, it was time for her 30th birthday bash. To celebrate this special milestone, Lewis organized a lavish party at a trendy rooftop bar in London. Rorie's close friends and family, including her mother and sisters, were all in attendance.

As the elevator doors opened to the rooftop bar, Rorie was greeted with an incredible view of the London skyline.

"Happy birthday, my love," Lewis whispered into her ear, placing a gentle kiss on her cheek as they entered the venue.

Rorie's smile stretched from ear to ear as she looked around the room. The party was adorned with an array of flowers and colorful balloons. As she mingled through the well-dressed crowd, Rorie was greeted with numerous hugs and congratulatory messages from her friends and family. She couldn't contain her happiness as she took in the beautiful setting - this was a night that would be etched in her memory forever.

Hailey Bieber approached Rorie with her shining eyes, a deep sense of happiness gleaming from her face. She hugged Rorie tightly, whispering, "Happy birthday, Rorie! You deserve all this success and happiness, and I'm so proud of you!"

Rorie stepped back from the hug, her eyes glistening with tears of joy. "Thank you, Hailey," she said with a grateful smile. "You've always been there for me, through thick and thin."

Hailey returned the smile, placing a hand on Rorie's shoulder. "That's what friends are for. And we will continue to support you every step of the way."

After enjoying a delicious meal and drinks, it was time for Lewis to give a speech. He stood up in front of their loved ones and spoke about their journey together – from maintaining a long-distance relationship to building a life together. Rorie couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with emotion as Lewis openly expressed his love for her.

"And now," he concluded, "we stand here today celebrating Rorie's 30th birthday – a milestone that she will undoubtedly conquer with grace and style."

With a twinkle in his eye, Lewis came closer to Rorie, holding a small box wrapped in shiny silver paper. She eagerly took the box from him, her fingers tracing the delicate ribbon tied around it.

"What is it?" She asked, filled with excitement.

"Open it and find out," Lewis said with a grin.

Trembling with anticipation, Rorie untied the satin ribbon and slowly lifted the lid. Inside lay the keys to a brand-new G Wagon – something she had been dreaming of for months.

"Oh my god, Lewis!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around him. "How did you manage this?"

He laughed, hugging her tightly. "Let's just say I have some connections."

Rorie pulled back to look at him in awe. "I can't believe this is real."

"It's all yours," Lewis said, kissing her forehead.

Rorie couldn't contain her happiness as she hugged him again. This truly was the best birthday ever. The crowd erupted into applause and cheers as Lewis directed Rorie to look over the railing, where her G-Wagon was parked with a big red bow on top.

"No fuckin' way! I love you so much, baby!"

Her husband chuckled. "I love you too."

The rest of the night was a blur of laughter, dancing, and celebrating with loved ones. Rorie couldn't stop smiling as she took endless pictures with her new car, feeling like the luckiest woman in the world.

The party had ended, and Rorie and Lewis said their goodbyes to the guests before heading back to their hotel room. They slipped into bed together, the soft glow of the moon shining through the curtains. As they cuddled under the warm blankets, reflecting on their wonderful memories, their son Lyric slept peacefully in between them.

"I can't believe I'm thirty years old," Rorie whispered, gazing up at the ceiling.

"And you don't look a day over twenty-two," he commented with a mischievous grin.

Rorie turned to face him, caressing his cheek with her hand. "You know, you've given me the best gift today – not just the car, but your love and support throughout all these years. I feel so lucky to have you as my husband."

Lewis smiled and wrapped his arms tighter around her. "I will always support you and be by your side, no matter what."

He leaned in for a kiss, but Lyric stirred in his sleep. They both laughed softly before settling back down.

"I can't wait to see what the next 30 years hold for me," Rorie said dreamily.

Lewis intertwined their fingers together and placed them over Lyric's chest. "Whatever comes our way, I know we'll conquer it together."

Lewis stirred in his sleep, feeling a pleasurable sensation in his lower extremities. He was in a daze, barely conscious of what was happening until he slowly opened his eyes and lifted the comforter. To his surprise, he discovered Rorie with his penis in her mouth.

Rorie looked up at him with a mischievous grin, her lips swollen from her ministrations. "Good morning, baby," she purred before taking him back into her mouth.

Lewis moaned softly, his hands tangling in her hair as she worked her magic. He could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge. This was definitely not how he expected to start his day, but he wasn't complaining one bit. He let himself fully wake up and enjoy the sensation of her warm mouth on him.

Rorie loved the way his hands gripped her hair as his hips bucked against her. She had always enjoyed sucking him off, but this morning felt different – more intense, more passionate.

A low groan escaped Lewis' lips as he came hard into Rorie's mouth. She eagerly swallowed every drop, her tongue teasing him until he was gasping for air.

"Fuck, baby," he breathed out, his body still tingling from the intense orgasm.

Rorie crawled up to kiss him, her lips tasting of him. Lewis couldn't help but pull her closer, their bodies pressing together as they kissed deeply.

"I don't think I've ever had such a good wake-up call," he chuckled against her lips.

Rorie grinned and nipped at his bottom lip. "I aim to please."

"I should have bought you that G-Wagon sooner," he teased. "Who knew that a car would turn you into a lil' freak? I'll get you anything you want if this is the consequence."

"Anything?" she asked curiously.

"Yes," he replied, determinedly.

"Then give me another baby," she surprised him with her request.

They had just celebrated Lyric's first birthday in Monaco with a small gathering of loved ones and friends a few days ago, and now she wanted to start trying for a second. Lewis didn't object; he would be overjoyed to see her pregnant again. With their son being taken care of by Nina back home while they were at the Hungarian Grand Prix this week, it was the perfect time for them to try for another child.

"Are you serious?" he asked, his eyes shining with excitement.

Rorie nodded, a smile spreading across her face. "I've been thinking about it for a while now, since Paris."

"I can't believe this," Lewis exclaimed, pulling her into a tight hug. "You've made me the happiest man in the world."

"Well, don't get too ahead of yourself," Rorie laughed. "It might take some time for us to get pregnant again."

"I don't care," Lewis said firmly. "I'll wait as long as I have to, especially since I can fuck you exactly how I want."

"And that entails?" she asked breathlessly, her body already trembling with desire.

"Bending you over every surface," he whispered, causing her to shiver at his words. "Filling you up so much that my cum leaks down your leg. Making you nice and sore, fucking that tight pussy to shreds."

His lips found the sweet spot on her throat and sucked gently, making Rorie moan. She could feel herself getting wetter by the second, the anticipation of what was to come almost unbearable.

"How long before you have to go to quali?" she managed to ask, her voice slightly shaky.

"I have an hour," he replied with a wide smile, wagging his eyebrows suggestively. "Why? You want to go on a lil' ride of your own?"

Rorie couldn't help but giggle at his playful tone, despite the intense desire coursing through her veins. She nodded eagerly and let him lead her to straddle his hips, her knees digging into the soft mattress. His hands immediately went to grip her waist as she slowly lowered herself onto him, a moan escaping both their lips as they were fully connected.

Lewis leaned back against the headboard, his eyes locked on Rorie's as he lifted her up and down on his manhood. He wanted to savor every moment with his wife before they had to leave for qualifying and he ran his hands up and down her body, exploring every inch of skin that was exposed to him.

Gripping her hips tighter, he guided her movements as she rode him harder and faster. Every thrust sent sparks of pleasure through both of their bodies, their moans growing louder with each passing second.

"Fuck," Lewis cursed under his breath, his fingers digging into Rorie's hips as her walls tightened around him. "I love this pussy so much, baby."

"It's all yours, Sir," she moaned heavenwards as she met him thrust for thrust.

"Say that shit again, baby. Who's pussy is this?"

"Yours, Sir!" She leaned in closer, pressing her hands against Lewis' chest as she picked up speed.

He gave her a playful slap on her ass. "That's what I like to hear."

Rorie was lost in a sea of ecstasy, her mind consumed by the feeling of being utterly owned by her husband, as their bodies moved in perfect harmony, their breaths coming out in ragged gasps as they chased their release. Lewis could feel the familiar tightening in his balls and he knew he was about to come undone. He reached between them and rubbed circles on Rorie's clit, wanting to bring her over the edge with him.

"Oh god," she cried out as he hit just the right spot.

Lewis felt himself explode inside her, his body shaking uncontrollably as he came hard. Rorie followed suit seconds later, collapsing against his chest, her body still trembling from the intense orgasm they had just shared. She felt his heart beating rapidly against hers and couldn't help but smile at the thought that she was the cause of it.

Lewis pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead before sliding out of her, causing a small whimper to escape Rorie's lips. They lay there in silence for a few moments, savoring the afterglow of their lovemaking.

"That was amazing," Rorie finally broke the silence, pressing a kiss to his chest.

"It always is with you," Lewis replied, running his fingers through her hair. "But we should probably get ready for qualifying."

Rorie sighed, not wanting to break the intimate bubble they were in but knowing that Lewis was right. He had an important race coming up and needed to focus.

They got up from bed and quickly got dressed, both of them still stealing glances at each other as they moved around the room. Rorie couldn't help but feel grateful for this moment with her husband amidst his hectic racing schedule.

Rorie and Lewis strode onto the paddock together, causing a frenzy among fans and media alike. A stranger watched them closely from only a few feet away. For the past few weeks, he had been keeping a close eye on them, ever since a representative from The Sun called him with mysterious instructions to do so.

He answered his phone again, interrupting his watchful surveillance. "Hello?"

"Any updates?" the voice on the other end asked.

"No, I'm still digging," he replied, glancing back at Rorie and Lewis as they walked arm in arm towards the Mercedes garage.

"Well, keep me updated. We can't afford any mistakes this time, and try not to get caught. We're still cleaning up the mess from Monaco."

The stranger hung up and turned back towards the couple. He reached for his camera and discreetly took a snapshot of them before blending back into the bustling crowd.

TO BE CONTINUED.......

[writers-potion]

Do you have any nicknames? Not stereotypical ones like “honey, sweetie”, but ones that maybe a character won’t like at first but grows to love??

Character Nickname Ideas

Hmmm this is actually a tricky one to answer.

Each character will have their own set of cultural backgrounds, quirks, strengths, weaknesses and relationship dynamics, which can all contribute to a nickname.

Here are some common things writers do for nicknames:

Shorten their given name. Mireya becomes Rey. Christopher becomes Chris.

Alter their given name. If you add a “y” sound, it implies the person using the nickname thinks of the character as young or childlike. So Alexa becomes Lexie. William becomes Billy.

Base their nickname on a physical trait. This can be straightforward or ironic. The large man is Tiny. The pretty girl named Honor is Bell/Beauty.

Pick a personality trait. School kids might call your main character Sassy Cassy. The con man might be called Prince Charming because of his smooth-talking skills.

Base their nickname on their profession or an accomplishment. So many characters are called Doc, Prof, or Chairman.

Base it on Monsters: ie. Balrog, Loch, Golen, Orthros, Baal, etc.

Base it on Mythology. Lots of authors have used names from Greek/Roman mythology, and readers have loved it!

Here are two personal examples:

Use initials. My name is Junhui Lee, and those who aren't familar with Asian names struggle to pronoun it correctly. So I just go by "JH"

In Korean culture, (1) people's names are usually three chracters: ie. Jun+hui+Lee and (2) We put surnames in front, not at the back of our names: ie. Lee Junhui, not Junhui Lee. Close friends would address each other as "surname + first character of the given name". So my friends would call me Lee Jun.

A character not liking their nickname

Doesn't necessary mean it has to be a funny nickname. They can dislike it because they somehow feel like only their parents/siblings call them that, or they feel childish, or the tone in which the other person says it is too teasing.

Depends on the origin and meaning behind the nickname. Was it made up by bullies in primary school and its just happened to stick? Was it given to them by their late grandparents? The anme

That said, here are some examples!

Vivienne: Vivvy, Vienne, Viv, Vee

Niamh: Nia, Neeve, Iya

Athena: Ath, Thea

Hazel: Haze, Zelly, Elle

Bloom: Bee, Bloomy, Blommer, Bloo

Coral: Cora, Coralie, Cori, Coral-B

Alaric: Larry, Lars

Ulysses: Ollie, Ulie

Adin: Ade, Ad, Bin, Dinny

Nicolas: Nick, Nico, Nicky

Daniel: Dan, Danny, Dannyboy, Niel

Adreil: Ad, Adri, Riel, El

Louisa: Lulu

+ this list because I've been trying to come up with nicknames for my bloothirsty character...

Steelshot

Crank

Rigs

Skinner

Skull Crusher

Wardon

Zero

Ironclad

Iron Heart

Billy the Butcher

Mr. Blonde

K-6

Hell-Raiser

Harbinger

Finisher

I hope this helps :)

[mieeaahhh]

All for the game headcannons (so so so many)

(might delete because I’m embarrassed)

-Aaron and Andrew hang out at least once a week because bee said they should give it a try and then once they graduate and live separately they call once a week instead.

-Aaron has a slightly stronger southern accent than the rest of the foxes and they like ‘mock’ him by repeating what he says sometimes. (idk if that makes sense and I’m not American so idek if he’d have a southern accent I just saw other people saying the foxes would😰)

-the foxes usually go to Aaron if Abby isn’t around when they have like a small ache in their arm or something along those lines.

-on Valentine’s Day since Eric lives so far away and Seth is yk 💀 the foxes do small things to try make nicky and Alison’s day better. Matt and Dan invite them to tag along their plans sometimes, Andrew and Neil leave them extra ice-cream in the freezer, Renee makes gets Allison flowers and sometimes takes Allison on a walk if she’s up to it, Aaron and katelyn let Nicky watch movies with them sometimes, and they also just hang out with each other and somewhat ‘bond’ about being by themselves on Valentine’s Day 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

-Aaron had piercings before meeting Andrew without his mum’s permission which obviously made her absolutely furious, so then Andrew had gotten them as well because he knew she hated them. (And he thinks they’re cool)

-the twins share a lot of their shoes. Like they’re is only one pair and it’s neither Andrews or Aarons🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

-Neil named sir and king because when he suggested that Andrew should name them, Andrew just said something lazy like “cat one and cat two”.

-Katelyn’s personality is like Nicky’s and Renee’s combined. Also I like to think that Aaron is an absolute MESS around Katelyn and the foxes do NOT leave him alone about it.

-Randy is like one of those mums that’ll ask you to invite people you are barely friends with over for tea and she started doing it with Matt about Aaron. (I like to think that Aaron and Matt end up becoming really good friends)

-Aaron doesn’t like sleeping by himself and will sometimes awkwardly ask whoever he’s with if he can sleep in their bed with them (only if he trust them like A LOT and is obviously like close with them??) and most of the foxes are aware he does this but never bring it up as they all do things that are a little childish to make themselves feel better(safe)

He’s slept In Nicky’s, Andrews and obviously Katelyn’s bed the most.

-Matt always gives people those double high-fives after good games (like this🙌) and one time turned towards Andrew for one without thinking and then put them down with a quiet apology while Andrew stared at him. Andrew silently set his hand out for Matt to give him a high five and he hesitantly did.

-there is a photo of Seth (that Allison picked) on the foxes photo wall with a metal plate thing next to it that has his name, exy position and t-shirt number.

-they take a ‘team photo’ every year for the photo wall and it’s probably the most awkward looking photo in the world.

-Katelyn is an accessory girly🤞 she constantly has hair clips and jewellery and whatever else on and when she gets sick/annoyed if having a hair clip in around Aaron she will wordlessly clip it somewhere onto him. His jumper, his hair, his bag, his shoe etc etc and a lot of the times he doesn’t even notice.

-Katelyn has videos of Aaron singing his absolute heart out while drunk and she reminds him of it whenever he’s being difficult

-a lot of the foxes sing while drunk so it often leads to a mini concert when they drink together

-Wymack has a mug signed by all the foxes that he uses every day because they got it for him on Father’s Day as a joke (Kevin’s name is the biggest)

-the twins have both been caught standing on countertops soooo many times trying to reach stuff but nobody is brave enough to mention it.

-Andrew helps dye Renee’s hair and Renee helps paint Andrews nails.

-Aaron’s septum is ALWAYS squint and it drives Katelyn mad so she always just fixes it for him and he just kinda stares at her in confusion because he honestly forgets he has piercings sometimes.

-jeans new hobby is drawing (I saw Nora say he picks up a new hobby and I’m hoping, wishing and praying it’s art related)

-Jeremy has a habit of doing this 🤙 all the time in photos.

-Kevin and Wymack start going out for lunch once a week after the books take place.

-Andrew fiddles with his piercings and picks his nail varnish when he’s bored/anxious.

-Aaron’s glasses are bent slightly from always falling asleep on them at his desk

-Neil is the only fox who isn’t afraid of spiders so he’s the designated spider remover whenever they see one.

-Neil likes holding Andrews face a lot and sometimes Neil will squish his cheeks slightly too annoy him.

-we all know Andrew has a resting bored face but I think Aaron has the worst case of rbf knows to man bro. Like he will look at Matt or something and Matt will feel the need to apologise.

-Dan, Allison and Renee invite Katelyn for girls nights and slumber parties because they know it annoys Aaron and they actually just really like her.

-Aaron likes the smiths

-Kevin has dimples

-Aaron and Andrew have freckles on their nose, Neil has freckles all over and Jeremy has freckles on his cheeks

-Aaron apologises whenever he cries (trauma response??) and when he lived with Andrew and Nicky they’d always try tell him that he has nothing to apologise for which made him cry even harder

-Neil wears caps and Andrew hates it so whenever Neil wears them Andrew flicks them off his head

-Katelyn is the tallest out of Neil, Andrew and Aaron

-Dan always sends the photos she takes to the person in said photo so that they have a copy of it as-well as it being on the wall.

-Dan and Matt have soooo many matching clothes it’s ridiculous

-Andrew has smoker lungs💔

(he coughs so much it’s concerning sometimes)

And his voice is like raspier than Aarons is

-whenever the twins say something or do something at the same time they just automatically say something like “shut up” or “stop” as if the other did it on purpose.

-the twins always sit weirdly because if they don’t they’re feet will go numb from not being able to reach the floor.

-Dan made a group chat for the foxes that barely ever ended up getting used but after everyone graduates and goes on with their own lives it ends up getting used a lot more for calling/FaceTimes each other

-Nicky sometimes tags along in the twins weekly hang outs/calls

-after that big sleepover the foxes had after getting Neil back they start doing things like that regularly. Having sleepovers, trips, movie nights, baking, board games/game nights, etc because they do start realising that maybe they do care about each other more than they say they do and it should be shown towards one another a lot more or it could be too late🤷‍♀️

Sorry bro there is so much and I can’t think of any more right now 💀

[ninyard]

The monsters and their ability to pick up languages is so interesting to me so here’s some random HCs about monsters + languages that are definitely not original at all:

- Neil learned French in Europe before him and Mary found their way to French-speaking Canada. He essentially had to semi-adopt the language discrepancies while he was there, and even though his fluency is in French from France, sometimes he messes up and pronounces things weirdly or differently (and Kevin frequently makes fun of him for it)

- Kevin has some rusty Japanese that he was forced to learn growing up. He can understand it pretty well, and can somewhat speak it to a lower level, but he can’t read or write it. He’s not fluent, and probably couldn’t hold a conversation with a native speaker, but he could understand his Japanese counterparts in the Nest when he needed to.

- In turn Kevin isn’t able to order in Japanese at a restaurant, but he could explain the rules of Exy to someone fairly coherently if he had to.

- This isn’t an original thought by any means but Neil and Kevin definitely speak in French when they’re by themselves just to make sure they don’t lose it.

- They sometimes make calls to each other on the court in French, and because of this, most of the team picks up very basic calls in French. None of them can actually speak it, but Andrew picks up a little more than the rest, having spent so much time with Kevin. Again, couldn’t hold a conversation, but every now and again he recognises certain words in their conversations.

- Neil is like a walking version of those White Guy Speaks Chinese And Stuns Waitress (he can understand her?!?) polyglot youTube videos. It becomes more of a hobby for him once he’s settled and the FBI are off his back, but the foxes are constantly shocked by how many languages he can speak. He is fluent in English, French, and German of course, with some conversational Spanish, but he can pretty much have a basic interaction in most of the languages of countries he’d been in. His Dutch is the worst, because he could never quite grasp the proper pronunciation of things, but one time he speaks to a waiter in Italian and Andrew can’t believe it.

- (RIP Neil Josten, you would’ve loved duolingo)

- When he goes to the Olympics he’s like a kid in a candy store. It’s like a subconscious bingo game for him to speak to someone from every country at least once.

- Aaron loves listening to music in German. He would definitely drag Nicky to a rave if they ever found themselves in Berlin.

- Katelyn asks him whenever they have their kid if he wants to raise them bilingual, but he decides not to because he only really learned German for Nicky and his brother, and doesn’t really speak it at all after he graduates.

- Neil and Nicky study Spanish together sometimes. It helps Nicky stay close to his roots now that his immediate family is pretty much out of the picture. It means way more to him than Neil even knows.

- Another unoriginal one but Andrew and Neil definitely do learn sign language in the future. I could talk about this one forever.

- When Kevin gets frustrated, he finds it hard to speak ANY language. He messes up words in English, forgets how to say things, and occasionally is the butt of the joke when he combines a French and English word accidentally.

- Kevin watches anime when nobody is around. He thinks dubbed anime is a crime.

- Andrew thinks he’s pretty good at German until he tries to have a conversation with Erik and realises wow native speakers talk a lot faster than we do. You wouldn’t know, because even if he just understands half of a sentence, he can usually piece together what is being said 90% of the time, and he would never admit out loud that he needs Erik to slow down when he’s talking so he can understand him.

- He is, however, REALLY good at accents. He has a talent for speaking gibberish but sounding as if he’s speaking fluent French. It drives Kevin up the wall when he does it, but he also hates when he can’t understand what Kevin and Neil are saying to each other.

And Bonus:

- Jeremy is really bad at accents. He is initially frustrated by Jean and his French, but once he understands that it is Jean’s first language (that the Moriyama’s took from him), he makes an effort to try and learn. He’s just really, really bad at it. Jean cringes every time he tries, because he speaks with a heavy American accent. Jean is not pretentious about his language, but he is, at the end of the day, French. So when Jeremy says bonjour in that hideous so-Cal accent, it’s in part endearing that he’s trying, but mostly like nails on a chalkboard.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Blurred Lines 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, power imbalance, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your relationship with your boss takes an unpredictable turn.

Characters: Nick Fowler

Note: some more Nicky for the girlies.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The next day, you arrive to an empty house. After Nick’s stormy mood, you’re grateful for the respite. Despite your efforts to forget his comments, to not let them seep too far into your head, you spent most of the night thinking of your marriage; of your widowhood. You’ve worked through most of those emotions but you’ll always miss your husband.

Around noon, you receive the crate of bottles you ordered the day before. The man who drives the large truck offers to bring them inside. You’ve noticed that as you get a few finer lines and a little more cushion, others tend to treat you as fragile. You don’t complain. Liquor is heavier than you would assume at a glance.

You thank the driver and send him off, returning to the den to sift through the box. You keep the glass cabinet open and pluck out the empty glass, or those with barely a sip left in them. Nick does the same with the milk; if there’s even a drop left, he’ll put the carton back. Not his problem, a new one always just appears.

You take the decanter and swish around the dregs of scotch. It wouldn’t be much of a waste to dump it, that amount will barely cover the bottom of a glass. You set it aside with the matching crystal glasses. You need to wash them.

As you line up the newer bottles on the shelf, you feel a buzz in your back pocket. You pause and wiggle your phone free, putting it to your ear as you work with one hand. Clunk, slide, clink.

“Hello,” you trill as you squint at another label. You’re supposed to wear glasses to read but you consistently leave them by your couch.

“Mom,” your daughter greets bluntly, “what are you doing?”

“Uh, Joey?” You lower the bottle in your hand, “everything okay?”

“Y-yeah, I just... I’m on my break and wanted to call you while I have the chance.”

“Break? You’re at your internship?�� You ask brightly, “how is it? Amazing?”

“Erm, sure,” she utters.

She sounds disappointed. Concern trickle down your neck, she’s only ever been excited about school and her future. It’s what you admire in her. She’ll go so much further than sorting out liquor and dump spoiled almond milk for some rich guy.

“What’s going on?” You prompt again, facing the cabinet as you set down another bottle.

“I... I don’t know if I’m cut out for this. It’s a lot of work,” she mutters and you hear her biting her nails. An old habit she hadn’t had since middle school.

“Honey, your nails,” you gird, “it’s new. You’re learning. Give yourself a bit of patience. I’m not saying it isn’t hard, but don’t be so hard on yourself. You can do it but you know what, even if it isn’t for you, I’ll be proud. You know I only want the best for you.”

“Yeah, I know,” she grumbles, “I just don’t want to let you down.”

“Never,” you assure her. “Take a few breaths, have some water, and no more caffeine. It will only make your anxiety worse.”

“Yeah,” she sniffs, “yeah, I did have an extra shot in my latte.”

“Alright, well, you call me later. Take your break for yourself. You know I’m always here for you, honey.”

“Love ya,” she resigns with a sigh.

“Love you too. Hey, if you need a break, let me know. We can make it work.”

“No, no, I can do this,” she insists, “it's only week two. I'm just being a baby.”

“My baby,” you tease and she gives and ‘ech’ which makes you laugh, “alright, we'll talk later.”

“Yep, bye, mom.”

“Bye,” you tap the red button and look down at your phone.

For as much as got nostalgic about your youth, you don't miss the uncertainty. You slide your phone away and something scuffs. Nick clears his throat and draws your attention.

“Sir,” you greet, wondering if he'd heard any of that, “just in time, I'm sorting your cabinet.”

“Mm, so you are,” he struts over, a hand in his pocket. He wears dark slacks and a button-up without a tie. “Family emergency?”

“Nope, everything's under control,” you shrug and take out a bottle of cognac. You place it with the rest.

You hear glass clink and turn. Nick uncaps the crystal decanter and drains what's left of the scotch. He eyes the container and puts it back on the table.

“What's your poison? Wine? Cocktails? You seem the type,” he muses.

“I only drink on special occasions,” you say. “Whatever's on special.”

“Mm, and Saturday? You sounded like you had a few. Pretty early too.”

You wince and look at him. You hadn't thought you were that obvious, especially over the phone. Well, he did say he reads people. You suppose you're not that hard to decipher.

“Two dollar mimosas,” you slip the empties into box and close the flaps.

“Mm,” he scoffs, “bubbly.”

“Gives me heartburn,” you say dismissively as you pick up the box. “Did you need anything, sir? Should I make lunch?”

He squints as you and sucks in his cheeks, emphasizing the squareness of his jaw.

“I'm having people over,” he states.

“Right, I'll get the good porcelain out,” you say.

“Work,” he intones. “You can't be here.”

“Yes, sir. I'll have the food done and kept warm in my absence.”

He nods. You don't ask questions. It's part of your job. Just do what he tells you and be on your way.

“Sure,” he says dully and spins on his heel.

He walks off and you carry the box through to the backroom. There's nothing unusual and yet it feels abnormal. Those last few days just feel off.

Work. The word echoes with an edge in your head. Ah, well, that's the crux of most human stress. You suppose, much like your daughter, Nick must be feeling the pressure. He might be your boss but someone up the line is his. That's just the order of things.

🥃

A night to yourself is welcome. Joey messages to say she’s okay now and she won’t bother calling you. You know by her Insta that she’s found friends to keep her company. You hope they can also offer some reassurance.

You settle in with a book on the sofa, eager to retrace your way through the last chapter you can’t quite recall. You don’t get further than a few paragraphs before you pass out. You sink down into motley dreams that sway between reality and fiction; the villain of the novel resembles your boss a bit too closely in your mind.

You wake with a start at the steady rattle of your phone against the end table. You reach up blindly, feeling around to still its buzz. You check the display, expecting your daughter, but instead you’re met with ‘Private’. You already know.

You check the time. It’s close to two in the morning. You sit up and yawn as you let the call roll through to your voicemail. You bend forward and rub your eyes, groggily rubbing your forehead. You’re stiff as hell. You know better than to sleep on the couch.

The phone starts again, shaking your hand. You answer it. If he’s trying a second time, it means he must really need something.

“Hello,” you creak out through your dry throat.

There’s rustling on the other end and some murmurs, but nothing clear. You tilt your head and press the phone closer, hitting the volume button with your thumb as you try to discern the noise on the other end. What is going on?

“...baby...” Nick’s tone is silty and low and met with a fluttery moan. You gulp. It can’t be. Flesh claps and he growls, “you like that, huh?”

You hang up before you can hear anything else. Oh god. You throw the phone across the room and shake out your hands. Yikes. You’ve been the victim of a pocket dial but nothing ever like that. You wonder how it even happened.

Well, you try not to think about it too much. You get up and move your book onto the table. You don’t even dare to touch your phone, leaving it on the seat of the chair. You’re too tired for all this. Hopefully, sleeping in your own bed will wash it all away.

🥃

You talk in with Nick’s dry cleaning over your shoulder. You’re not shocked to find the house in disarray. Social nights are often met with grim mornings. It seems of late that both come more and more frequent.

You set down the garment bags on hangers and stop in the kitchen to put on a brew of coffee in anticipation of another of your boss’ hangovers. The aroma rises as you cross the tile floor and snatch up the suits and shirts. You hesitate at the bottom of the stairs. Like days before, you suspect he also has some lingering company. You wonder if it’s better to wait and put away his clothes once you are certain.

A long rumble distracts you from your dread. You turn and walk towards the broad archway that opens into the front room. Somehow you hadn’t noticed the body on the couch and now you regret that you have. Nick’s bare ass flashes you from across the room as he lays with his shoulders curled forward and his head under a pillow. He must’ve had quite the work dinner.

You tiptoe across the room and pick up the mussed throw from the floor. You drape it around his waist to cover the most intimate part of him. He groans and brings his arm up over the pillow.

“Baby,” he mutters and roles onto his back. You swiftly catch the blanket before it can expose him further and keep it over his middle, letting it fall across his pelvis. You can only do so much as his dick springs up beneath the waffle knit. “Why don’t you get on it?”

You nearly choke at the suggestion. He still has the pillow over his head as his hand crawls down his muscular torso, reaching for... that.

“Baby is gone,” you cross your arms, “coffee is on, sir. Would you like a cup?”

He grunts and retracts his hand, pulling the pillow from his head and hugging it to his stomach. He blinks, his brow furrowed in surprise and chagrin. He stares at you and lets his head loll.

“Mm, guess it’ll wake me up just the same,” he mutters as his eyes flick up and down. “Morning, honey.”

“Morning, sir,” you hike up your armful, “let me get these hung and I’ll get your coffee.”

You turn as he sighs and the couch creaks beneath him. You don’t look back, wary of seeing more than you already have. It’s not unlike him to have his little get-togethers and to indulge but it’s a bit much. If you thought he’d be honest, you might ask if something’s wrong. Then again, your his maid, not his therapist.

“And Advil,” he calls after you, “maybe put some whiskey in the coffee, too.”

You nod and march to the stairs. Minding your boss isn’t too much different than raising a child, though you think Joey was much easier to deal with. And not so demanding.

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 34

PREV

Sometimes when you have bad anxiety it’s hard to judge how scary something actually is.

FF breaks into a cold sweat practicing his order in line at fast food places. FF shakes with nerves at the prospect of asking about where a certain building was on campus from a stranger. FF’s stomach twisted into knots when he thought Andrew was leading him to his death in the basement of Eden’s. It’s hard when everything in life feels like the scariest and most impossible thing you’ll ever have to deal with.

Still, FF had felt like he had been getting braver. Had felt like he might be getting just a bit better in regard to confronting his fears.

He’d been getting better.

He managed to laugh with the cashier when he ordered combo number two-teen instead of twelve before break. He had asked for directions to the nearest bathroom from a stranger when one of Kevin’s shakes had gone straight through him. He had even gone down into the basement with Andrew and realized he had friends.

Looking at Daniel makes that progress feel far away.

His stepbrother’s name tastes like ash in his mouth.

“I just want to talk.” Daniel says raising his hands up placatingly. “We’re family.” Daniel says pointing between himself and FF.

“We’re not family and I don’t want to talk.” FF says because they aren’t, and he doesn’t. Daniel is one of the top two people in the entire world he doesn’t want to talk to ever.

“There’s your answer, now leave.” Captain Neil dismisses Daniel who still has his hands up.

“C’mon talk to me. We’re brothers John.” Daniel says and FF feels his entire body tense at the name.

“John?” Nicky looks back at him in confusion.

“That’s not my name.” FF hears himself say more than he consciously says it. “It was never my name.” he swallows tart cherry flavored bile. It really was one of Kevin’s better smoothies and FF would feel terrible if he puked it up. The world sways as he tries to breathe through the nausea of hearing Daniel call him by that name again.

He changed it the second he turned 18 last March. He’d signed his contract as a Smith not a Stanton. He would never let someone take it from him again even if hearing his first name still made his heart ache.

He feels Kevin’s hand on the center of his back steadying him and maybe he is swaying and not the world. Kevin takes the smoothie out of his hands before he can drop it.

Nicky must see something too because his friend abandoned the front line to steady him with an arm around his shoulders. He thinks he sees Captain Neil take his place.

“Of course, it was! It’s the name our dad gave you.” Daniel says and FF’s stomach cramps at the thought. “He’s still hurt that you changed it and that you haven’t reached out. Do you know what it’s like to find out your brother was hurt during a press conference?” Daniel asks and FF can see how he’s going for the sympathy card here looking at the others.

It’s his usual tactic.

“Fred is not my dad. You, Lucas, and Greg are not my brothers.” FF can feel a headache coming on along with the stomach cramps. He wishes that Aaron had let him restock on Pepto because the tart cherries maybe aren’t the best thing at the moment.

Daniel has always been the worst part of his stepfamily.

Greg had been a physical bully. Lucas had always followed Greg’s lead. Fred hadn’t looked at him more than he had to from the very moment that FF had made it clear that he did not appreciate the 13th birthday gift of ‘a new name’ and still intended to spend time with his grandmother. His mother had been distant for ages, but he always felt her watchful gaze making sure he did not step out of line, did not give her an excuse to put him back on the medication that left him as a zombie.

Daniel was different.

Daniel wanted things to be a certain way, but he wasn’t like his father or his brothers. He didn’t force FF to change, didn’t bully him into accepting a name that he had never wanted, and never let on to the fact that he was watching.

They’re the same age. Daniel had come to him like he could be a friend something he had been in short supply of after his two years of being little more than a medicated zombie. Daniel had gotten close; Daniel had pretended to actually care and acted like he only wanted what was best for FF.

It might have even worked.

If FF wasn’t such a loyal grandson.

Daniel had tried to poison the well between him and Gran, had tried to tell him that he needed to leave her behind and be happy in his new family.

FF had been stalwart.

Then Daniel had gone after his Gran and FF dislocated his thumb punching him.

“You don’t touch her.” He had said seeing Daniel for what he was for the first time. He saw a monster where a friend used to be but he had told this monster all of his secrets, all of his weaknesses, and had given him ammo.

Daniel came off as sweet and caring. He was athletic. He was a good friend. He was smart.

He was just also evil and made sure that FF suffered every single day they lived together because FF saw that evil in him when no one else had.

More than anything FF had been happy to bid him farewell when he’d signed his legal name on the contract to Palmetto State University’s Exy Team.

Just the sight of him brought up bad memories.

“No brother here to talk to it seems.” Captain Neil says.

“Bye Daniel. Kevin and Aaron, you two can walk back.” Andrew says and FF feels hands on his shoulders and found himself being steered towards the Maserati and FF stiffened instantly at the sight of it. “Smith?” Andrew questions.

FF had been doing better.

Screaming and pointing.

A hand reaching.

A sharp swerve.

Blood in his eyes and smoke in his lungs.

“I’m scared.”

Tiny hands in his.

“It’s going to be okay; I promise.”

Waking up to his grandma holding his hand in the hospital.

He’d been getting better.

“See, you’re still upset over what that guy did. Why are you clinging to the last name of the guy that did this to you?” Daniel asks from behind him, “He almost killed mom and you. He did kill our two-“

“Stop.” FF hears himself say and he turns to Daniel. “Jay and Robin weren’t your little siblings, they were mine. I’m not your family, I never was and never will be. I’m not scared of cars anymore.” A lie mixed in with multiple truths.

Maybe it’ll make Daniel happy to see that FF still knows how to play all of his favorite games.

He turns to Andrew who is staring at him patiently, “I’m not feeling well.” He says.

Andrew looks at him and FF figures he probably looks as shitty as he feels, “Someone will have to sit on someone’s lap.” He says.

“Smithy, sit on my lap.” Nicky says and FF can’t help the way he leans into Nicky’s warmth as his friend guides him to around the car keeping himself between Daniel and FF. Nicky gets in first and FF doesn’t hesitate to crawl onto Nicky’s lap.

He thinks he hears Daniel start to say something, but Andrew slams the door shut on his way to the driver’s side. Andrew doesn’t move from the passenger door, blocking it with his body.

Nicky guides his face into his neck, “Can we buckle-up?” he asks, and Nicky almost dislodges him he’s so quick in his compliance.

“Of course.” Nicky says and there’s the feeling of the seatbelt and the click of it locking into place. Nicky’s hand was in his hair.

FF doesn’t know if it just took a while or if he was just drifting in his thoughts as Nicky stroked his hair. “Are you scared of cars?” he asks voice quiet.

“Yes.” FF answers because it’s Nicky. “I was in an accident.” He explains just as quietly as Nicky had asked.

“Siblings?” Nicky asks voice choking with emotion.

FF pressed his face into Nicky’s neck further and hopes the pressure will stop his eyes from watering. “Yes.” He says. “Younger.” He manages.

Nicky holds him tighter, and FF is glad Nicky doesn’t tell him it’ll be okay.

FF doesn’t know if he drifts or if the others are listening to Daniel’s poison and falling for it. He’s glad that at least he’ll still have Nicky.

Eventually, the doors open, and he thinks he hears Daniel’s voice, but all three doors shut quickly.

“What an asshole.” Aaron spits.

“That doesn’t necessarily disqualify him.” Kevin says.

“We’re not talking about this right now.” Captain Neil hisses, “Smith, we’re going to get you to Abby’s, okay?” he says but FF doesn’t really have the energy to do anything more than a thumbs up.

The car ride is smoother than usual. It’s also quiet other than Kevin reminding him that he’d sleep better if they’d stop by the store to grab more smoothie supplies, Aaron smacking him upside the head, and Andrew threatening to kill both of them if they got tart cherry and avocado smoothie on his interior.

By the time they’re at Abby’s FF is almost asleep in Nicky’s lap but he forces himself to wake up and climb out of the car when Andrew opens the passenger door for them. He finds it hard to look at any of them at the moment.

“Sorry about all of that.” He manages looking down at his feet. “You shouldn’t have had to see that.”

“Smith,” Captain Neil’s hand rests on his shoulder and FF startles slightly as he looks down into the blue eyes of his Captain, “if we got what we deserved, we wouldn’t be Foxes.” He says as FF takes a long and steadying breath. “You have a past and that’s what brought you here.” Captain Neil squeezes his shoulder.

“You’re one of us and we take care of our own.” Andrew says before pushing him towards Nicky, “Get him to bed.” He says.

Nicky didn’t need to be told twice. Abby and Grandma Smith were out checking out a restaurant after the game, the two having become good friends during their stay. FF was glad his Gran was somewhere else and didn’t have to see him like this. FF was even more glad for his friend’s help as Nicky dragged him through his bedtime routine. “Don’t expect this when we’re roomies.” Nicky teased as he helped FF change.

It was hardly five minutes between pulling up and Nicky tucking FF into bed. “We’ll be by tomorrow, call me if that asshole shows up, okay?” Nicky says pointing at him.

FF, still to tired, just gave a thumbs up and closed his eyes.

He just hoped he drank enough of the smoothie that he wouldn’t dream.

***

Nicky left Abby’s house and made sure to lock the door behind him after he had checked a grand total of three times that FF was asleep in the guest bedroom, he’d taken up residency in.

Siblings.

Nicky’s heart ached.

He found the rest of the Monsters loitering outside by the Maserati with Aaron pacing, Kevin wiping his tongue on his shirt, as Andrew and Neil sat on the hood sharing a cigarette.

“He’s asleep?” Andrew asks.

“Out like a light.” He looks over to Kevin, “What’s going on with Kevin?” he asks.

“He tried some of what was left of the Smoothie he gave to Smith.” Neil says with an amused laugh. “He didn’t like it.” He says.

“I’ve been aiming for nutritional, not delicious.” Kevin argues, “Smiths hasn’t complained.”

“Smith is a little too nice for his own good.” Aaron rolls his eyes, “Which is why we’re not letting that asshole get his way!” Aaron adds.

“Being an asshole doesn’t stop you from being good at Exy.” Kevin crosses his arms.

“Obviously!” Aaron returns gesturing at Neil, Andrew, and Kevin.

“I resent that.” Kevin and Neil said at the same time as Andrew just shrugged.

“Hey, what the hell are you guys talking about?” Nicky asks hating feeling locked out of the loop. He didn’t regret climbing in the car to hold FF but there’d been too much time between when he’d sat in the Maserati to when the rest had joined for there to have not been a conversation.

“You didn’t hear?” Aaron asks incredulous.

“I was busy.” Nicky hisses and at least Aaron has the good grace to blush.

“Daniel Stanton wants to try out for the open spot on our roster since Lisa decided to stay home.” Neil says through gritted teeth, “The University already approved that he can try out.” He adds.

“That asshole wants to be a Fox.” Andrew says.

There were many noise disturbance calls from the usually quiet neighborhood that night as Nicky Hemmick let his opinion on this be known to the world.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

NEXT

[harlowcomehome]

Studio days & Pumpkin Carving:

October fics!

“I don’t like this, something doesn’t sound right” Jack threw his Bose headphones down.

He was growing more frustrated as time went on, feeling like this song would never be complete.

“Let me listen to it” you walked over to him holding you hand out for him to give you the headphones.

He felt defeated, he usually didn’t show you an unfinished product but he was out of options.

“Fuck it” he handed you the headphones, standing up so you could sit where he was previously seated.

You examined his face, he was pale except for then red skin creeping up his neck. He was frustrated and warm, pulling his long sleeves up to his elbows.

You picked up the pen he had lying on top of his scrap paper. Closing your eyes and listening to the lyrics.

“That bar does hit” You scribbled a few words down so he knew immediately what you were referring to.

“You think it’s that line? And not the sample?” His brow furrowed feeling slightly offended.

“The sample fits perfectly babe, just change that line. You can find something that flows better.” You rubbed his shoulders as you stood up for him to sit back down.

Nickie and Angel were both in the room, nodding along to your advice. They had truthfully thought the same thing but didn’t want to say it.

Jack motioned for them to play it one more time as he started rewriting the lyrics.

“It’s going to be a long night” Nicki mumbled as you turned to leave the studio.

Jack had been suffering from some severe writer's block lately, just feeling uneasy about things and second-guessing so you weren’t surprised by how he felt today.

You decided to plan a date night in for the two of you, leaving to pick up some things from the store.

You started by getting some pumpkins to carve and two pumpkin carving kits, quickly moving on to food and some decorations.

When you got back to the house, the guys were still in the studio so you took the time to set everything up in the living room.

Hours and hours had gone by, you checked on them periodically and even ordered everyone lunch but Jack was still stuck, now on another song.

At eight o’clock, you took it upon yourself to go into the studio.

“No, and that doesn’t sound right. We need to have more high-hats there” Jack pinched the bridge of his nose, releasing a heavy sigh.

Nickie and Angel both turned to you, silently giving you a wide-eyed look that screamed “Help us.”

“Jack, can I talk to you in the hallway for a second?” You cleared your throat, to get his attention.

He nodded, turning to the guys “five minutes.”

“What’s up?” You could tell his mind was elsewhere, even as he stood in front of you.

“Hey, look at me” You firmly grabbed his shoulders to get his attention.

His blue eyes traced the emotions on your face, realizing you seemed upset.

“What’s wrong baby?” His eyes softened at the sight of you.

“You need to call it a night” You reached out to rub on his beard.

“Baby! We- I’m- I have a few more changes to make and then I promise-“

Your look of disapproval made his stomach tighten, and form a lump in his throat.

“Tomorrow” you stood on your tip toes to kiss the tip of his nose.

“Tomorrow” he agreed walking back into the studio to tell the guys.

Once everyone was gone, he walked into the living room and realized you had decorated.

“What’s that smell?” He sniffed the air, before turning to you.

“I’m making a pumpkin pie and there’s soup on the stove boiling”’ you smiled.

“For me?” He couldn’t help but smile so much that his cheeks hurt. He held your hands swinging your arm back and forth playfully.

“You’ve been working so hard, and I feel like we need a good date night in.”

You pointed to the kitchen table, showing him the pumpkins you had picked out.

“Isn’t that cannibalism?”

“What?”

“We are going to eat pumpkin pie in front of these pumpkins” he tried to hold his laugh in, earning a playful roll of the eyes from you.

“Remember when we started dating we carved those mini pumpkins?” He laughed, snorting at the memory.

“We’re not going to talk about that” you giggled remembering how awful yours looked.

“It’s redemption time” he chuckled as he walked over to the pumpkins.

“I just hope our kids have your artistic skills and not mine.”

“Kids huh? With an “S?” He smirked, catching that subtle slip-up.

“Eight” you winked making him chuckle as he looked through the pumpkin carving design kit.

[toournextadventure]

everyone but her pt.21

Summary: You get a hit with a bit of reality and go back to apologise to Wednesday. But it might be too late, and now everything is catching back up with you. And this time, you don't have Nicky to keep you out of trouble.

Word Count: 7.5k Warnings: swearing, stages of grief, implications of self-destructive behaviours, flashbacks Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (everyone but her Masterlist) Taglist: @extinctspino @basichextechml @cfvgbhndun-new-blog @jinxscatbomb @awolfcsworld @suzhiman @gengen64 @eclipsesmoonshine14 @alexkolax @thenextdawn @cacciatricediartemide @cozwaenot @the-night-owl-blr @natashasapphic @parkersmyth @alilbitlesbian @irish-piece-of-trash @rainbow-love4ever @audigay @bakugounuggets @myfturn @rockwyn @bigbadsofty07 @andsoigotabutterfly @captainbeat @smromanoff

You felt the sticks snap under your feet as you landed haphazardly, quickly leaning against a tree so you could dry heave. Again. It was becoming something of a routine from the past five or so hours. After stopping at the house to get your things and say goodbye to Mabel and Jenkins - who promptly gave you hugs and cheek kisses. It made your stomach turn and you wanted to scream at them to please stop, it’s all my fault - before flying off.

In the grand scheme of things, you were only able to fly for about 20 minutes at a time before having to land. At first you panicked when your stomach turned, and it hurt because you hadn’t eaten and you were already exhausted. But then after another 20 minutes or so of shaky flying, you had to land and heave again. And so the vicious cycle continued.

Your skin was sticky with sweat by the time you walked through the gate at home. There was a shakiness to your legs that, for the life of you, you couldn’t get rid of. It was humiliating and you felt weak. Weak because you had just ruined everything and now you were running away? Running back home to Momma and Pop? What, were you going to tuck your tail between your legs next?

“Y/N!”

The push against your stomach was stronger than it should have been. You stumbled back, your arms windmilling in an attempt to keep you on your feet. Your duffel bag hit the dirt with a *thud* and you managed to get your feet back underneath you just enough to see your faux attacker.

And it broke your heart.

“You promised,” Hailey shouted. Not her usual yelling or griping. She shouted. With tear stained cheeks and red eyes.

“Hail-”

“-you promised he would wake up!” She continued, stepping closer. Her claws were out.

“I didn’t-”

“-and you didn’t even tell us!” She pushed against your stomach again; your feet were better planted this time. “We had to find out from Auntie Rissa!”

“Hailey!” Alex was running across the yard, the other kids fast on his tail. “Stop!”

“You promised,” Hailey cried. She swiped with her claws once. You jumped back but still felt the slightest sting on your left hip. “You promised and you let him die!”

Oh. Oh.

“Don’t talk to her like that,” Alex huffed as he did his best to get in between you and Hailey. His sunglasses were riding low on his nose, but he quickly pushed them back up. “You know better.”

“Your best friend came home,” Hailey shouted at Alex. They were starting to square off. Oh no. “Mine didn’t.” She was crying. “It’s not fair.”

“Hey-”

“-Why should she get to come home when Nicky can’t?-”

“-You know it’s not that simple-”

“-Why does she get to be happy when he can’t even breathe?-”

“-Don’t be such a bitch-”

“-Enough!”

You stepped in between the both of them, your arms outstretched on either side to push them further apart. It was impeccable timing, really. You managed to step in between them right as Hailey swiped again and Alex threw a punch. The claws swiped across your forearm, and Alex tried to curb his hit but still managed to catch you in the shoulder.

You felt sick.

Everyone else had finally gotten closer, now just watching the scene unfold before them. You looked up into Pop’s eyes, trying your best to convey everything you were feeling. Scared, sick, angry, frustrated, numb. Everything and nothing all at once. You wanted to cry, and throw up, and scream, and hurt.

“It’s your fault,” Hailey said around a sob that she no longer bothered hiding. “It should have been you-”

“-Hailey,” Momma chastised immediately, but Hailey was already running off into the woods around the barn. A pained howl quickly followed.

“Come on, Nicky,” Hailey begged, “you promised to sing karaoke with me.”

“It’s 3am, Hails,” Nicky chuckled. Your eyes slowly opened to see them snuggling on the couch in the basement.

You couldn’t say much; you were cuddling with Alex on the other couch.

“Then at least sneak some ice cream with me?” Hailey asked again. She was using her puppy dog pout. Smart move, it always worked on Nicky.

“Fine,” he sighed, but he was still smiling. “But only because we’re best friends.”

“You love me most,” she said as she pulled him up from the couch.

“I suppose I do,” he laughed again.

“I didn’t mean to hit you,” Alex said, his own voice sounding watery. “It was an accident.”

You felt sick.

“I’ll go get Hailey-”

“-Let her run it off,” Pop interrupted Momma softly, his eyes never leaving yours. “Alex, grab her bag.” He looked around at everyone else, including the nearly-crying kids. “Everyone else git back inside.”

A chorus of “yes Pops” filled the suffocatingly silent air. Your arms slowly fell back to your side as everyone moved, leaving the area as quickly as possible. No one wanted to stay; you didn’t blame them. You didn’t want to stay either. You didn’t want to be anywhere.

“You gonna hurl?” Pop asked as he stepped closer to you, his hand patting your shoulder a little rougher than necessary. “You’re lookin’ a little green.”

“‘m fine,” you said.

“Don’t hurl on my boots,” Pop warned.

As if on cue, you turned just in time to double over. Nothing came up; there was nothing to come up. But it still took you a few minutes of dry heaving and Pop patting your back harshly before you could stand back up on shaky legs. You just used the back of your hand to wipe the spit off your chin.

“Come inside,” Pop said softly. You don’t deserve soft. “You need food and some sleep.”

“‘m not hungry-”

“-I don’t give a damn if you’re hungry or not,” Pop interrupted. “You’re walkin’ like a newborn foal.”

“I can’t- I- I can’t eat,” you whispered. You couldn’t look into his eyes; couldn’t bear to see the pity. “I can’t.”

The stammer was embarrassing enough on its own, but the way Pop’s grip on your shoulder softened made your stomach turn and a lump form in your throat. Don’t touch me. But he did, and he was so incredibly soft, and you wanted to scream.

“Come on, baby bird,” he said softly as he pulled you into his side and started guiding you to the house. “Let’s get you home.”

You ate what Abuelita put in front of you. If anyone had asked what it was, you couldn’t have told them, but you ate it. Ate until you felt your stomach turn, then excused yourself and went straight to the bathroom. The food didn’t stay in your stomach, but at least you ate.

Momma let you sleep in her room for the night; no one would bother you in there. And you laid there on the bed and the pillows smelled like home and you didn’t sleep. Every time you closed your eyes, all you could see was Nicky. Or your father’s bloody face, eyes staring up at you in absolute fear.

You wanted him to fear you. But you didn’t. All you wanted was for him to hold you and say he was sorry and that he loved you. You wanted both of them to say they loved you and they were proud of you. Not that they were scared of you, or they hated you, or they blamed you for everything.

You just wanted them to want you.

Turn it off, that voice in your head said again. It sounded a little different, but still familiar. You didn’t want to turn everything off, you wanted to feel. But the words themselves buried the anger and sadness under layer after layer of numbness. Buried it until you felt nothing, and nothing went through your head except unbearable silence.

You couldn’t help it.

It was early in the morning by the time you stumbled out of Momma’s and Pop’s room. Everyone was still asleep, thankfully, and you didn’t want to be there when they woke up. You had heard Hailey come home last night and you just couldn’t be there when she got up.

It should have been you.

You left the house without any warning. The fall air was cool and the trees were a beautiful orange and yellow and red and it made you sick. Fall was Nicky’s favourite time of year, and it was so perfect out, and he couldn’t even enjoy it. A stinging sensation settled in the back of your eyes and a lump lodged itself in your throat as you started running.

It left you shaky and the cold air stung your lungs, but you still ran. Down the dirt road, into the woods and up the small hill that led to the creek. The babbling brook would normally be soothing, easing you into a calm that could only come from the outside. But today, all it did was make you angry. Angry because your feet had carried you here when you didn’t want to be here.

You couldn’t bear to be in Nicky’s favourite place.

A scream wanted to tear its way up your throat, but you wouldn’t let it. You didn’t, because if you kept it in then you could suffer a little bit too. It would continue to rage and tear you apart from the inside out. If you were lucky, maybe it would do more than that and you could prove how sorry you were.

Your eyes stung when you finally collapsed near the riverbank. The ground was cold and muddy but truthfully? You couldn’t give a damn. You were still in those fucking suit pants and dressy undershirt, and you didn’t give a damn that they were soaking through with freezing water.

The frogs and birds kept you company. Croaking by your leg while the brook continued to flow steadily in front of you. Your wings weighed heavy on your back, forcing you to hunch your shoulders in an attempt to ease the weight. It didn’t. The muscles in your back ached and it was good. Pain was good.

“It’s too quiet,” you huffed as you threw another rock into the river. The *splunk* was pretty satisfying.

“That’s the point,” Nicky said. He was laying on the riverbank with hands behind his head. His eyes were closed and his face was illuminated by the sun shining through the leaves above.

“You like listening to nature?” You asked; your fingers were digging through the mud for another rock.

“It’s relaxing,” He said with a smile. “Maybe you'll learn some patience.”

“Hey, Y/N.”

You didn’t look up but felt the body sit beside you, her arm brushing against yours only briefly. It sent a shiver down your spine and your eyes fell shut for a moment. Only for a moment. When they opened again, you looked back out at the river. It was too quiet.

You felt numb.

“Hailey told me you were out here,” Ash whispered. Please shut up. “She wanted me to check on you.” Of course she did.

"Go away, Ash," you said just as quietly.

"All due respect, sweetheart, I'm stayin," she answered. "I know you, and the last thing you need is to be alone."

"Who taught you to talk like that?" You asked. "You never used to care this much." It was a low blow and you knew it. Your eyes travelled down to the mud by your freezing legs. Without hesitation, your fingers dug in, searching blindly for something to grab.

"I grew up a little," Ash said with a light chuckle.

You hummed in response. It wasn't like you were really in the mood to talk to her anyway, and she probably knew it. Something hard stopped your digging and you slowly excavated it, lifting your hand to show off a rock. Simple, grey, jagged. You halfheartedly tossed it into the water and got to digging again.

"How's that girl from your school?" Ash asked after a few minutes of silence. "The one you brought home a few months ago."

"Small talk isn't necessary," you said quickly. "It's not even wanted-"

"-You can't push me away this time, Johnson," she cut in. "It worked before but it won't work now." You found another rock.

“Or you could just go hang out with Johnny,” you grumbled when Ash sighed. “Clearly he’s better company.”

“He’s my best friend,” she shot back. “I can have friends, can’t I?”

“Yeah, sure,” you said with a shrug. You weren’t looking at her. “You can hang out with him while I sit here and worry about my brother who's still in a coma.”

“You’re such a dick,” Ash said quickly. “You know that’s now what I mean.”

“Just leave.”

“Gladly.”

“So how is she?”

“I don’t know.” You threw the rock into the river. “Think I fucked it up already.”

“You tend to do that,” she said with a soft chuckle. Your fingers were already in the mud. “Wanna talk about it?”

No, you thought. But yes. The look of absolute pain on Wednesday’s face when you had turned away after she had confessed. Fuck, she had confessed. She had done it and you hadn’t even had the good sense to say anything positive. You were more than aware of how difficult it was for her to express emotions, but after this? You’d be lucky if she even looked at you again.

“She told me she loved me yesterday,” you said softly, your eyes travelling down to the mud. Still no rocks.

“At a funeral?” Ash scoffed.

“Her parents confessed at a funeral,” you said simply with a shrug. There was a beat of silence.

“She looks like her parents confessed at a funeral,” she finally said in a hushed voice, almost like she was experiencing a new revelation.

It almost made you laugh.

“Shut up,” you chuckled as you lightly elbowed her in the side.

“Did you say it back?”

Silence.

“Y/N,” Ash scolded. You stopped digging for rocks just long enough to look at her out of the corner of your eye. “You said it back, right?”

“I was a little distracted-”

“-You’re such a dick.” She elbowed you back; far harder than you had done to her. “That was probably peak romance for her.”

“I’m sorry I was mourning my brother, Ashley,” you taunted back. “A love confession wasn’t necessarily on my list of things to expect for the day.”

“Why the fuck are you still here?” Ash asked. 

“Excuse me?”

“Go back and apologise!” She shouted. The birds stopped chirping for a few seconds before resuming their relaxing songs. “And return the love, for fuck sake.”

“Why do you even care?” You asked. The search for rocks to throw was long forgotten.

“Because I saw your face when she kissed your cheek,” Ash sighed. “And I know she was simply markin’ her territory, but you looked happy.” Her eyes met yours; they were soft. Reminiscent of all those years ago. “I don’t think you were ever that happy with me.”

“We were kids,” you said, turning to look back out at the brook. You couldn’t handle her stare anymore. “Not sure we could have-”

“-Will you shut the hell up?” She interrupted. “Fuck, Y/N, that girl can keep you.” A huff left her lips.

“You’re doing a wonderful job at comforting me,” you grumbled.

“Go tell her,” Ash said again in a tone that left no room for argument. “Because if she doesn’t take you back then we’ll be stuck with you.” She was trying not to smile.

“You’re a bitch.”

“And you’re a dick.” Her smile turned softer, less taunting. “But you’re a dick who deserves a little bit of happiness after this clusterfuck.”

“Thanks, Ash,” you whispered.

“Just make sure you change first,” she said, her tone sounding more judgmental. “You smell like a pig.” Her eyes went down to the mud on your pants. “Look like one too.”

“Get the hell away from me,” you grumbled as you pushed her away. “Ha!” You laughed when she got her own shirt covered in mud.

“God, I hate you,” Ash grumbled. “Messin’ up my good shirt.”

Silence fell over the both of you and you looked back out over the babbling brook that no longer seemed quite as inviting. Now it was just a brook, and the frogs were just frogs, and the birds were just enjoying their day. 

For just a moment, the anger had dissipated and you could sit there. Nicky was still on your mind, and your father was still on your mind, and Wednesday was still on your mind, and everything was still slowly falling apart. But for a moment, you could sit there.

Ash was right. You needed to go back and talk with Wednesday. She would understand, right? If she would just listen and let you explain and hopefully let you say those three words back to her, it would be okay. It would be okay, right? Your pulse started to race in your ears again.

You felt numb.

—---

Getting back to Nevermore had been easy enough. You had said your goodbyes to Ash (and promptly told her not to contact you again) before heading back to the house. A quick shower (which almost felt nice after nearly two weeks without it), a change of clothes, goodbyes to everyone except Hailey (who was still furious), and a quick flight home.

Well, it wasn’t a quick flight. But it was a flight.

“Thank heavens.”

You felt a body crash into you when you walked through the front doors of Nevermore Academy again. A pair of arms wrapped themselves around your shoulders and squeezed you tight. There was only a moment of hesitation before you dropped your duffel bag and returned the hug, leaning completely into Mama Weems. The familiar scent of lavender and tea invaded your senses and for a moment, your shoulders sagged as you exhaled slowly.

“Don’t you ever run off like that again,” she whispered into your ear. Her grip tightened ever so slightly. So did yours.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled back. There was a lump in your throat and a stinging in your eyes.

You felt numb.

It was the only warm welcome you got back at Nevermore.

Ajax and Kent had waved at you from across the courtyard before Divina and Enid pulled them away. The migraine came back, but you physically shook it away. They probably just wanted to give you some space, right? You weren’t exactly one to talk openly anyway, they were being polite.

But then Yoko practically refused to look at you. You had tried to approach her the next day, but she almost immediately turned in the other direction and walked into one of the classrooms. There was an undeniable skip in your heartbeat, but you ignored it. You had ignored her for two weeks and she had seen you lose your shit; she always hated it. It made sense that she was going to keep her distance. Right?

No one let Eugene get near you. Plain and simple as that.

And you hadn’t seen hide or hair of Wednesday even after three days of being back.

“Where is she?” You asked Bianca after cornering her before a class.

“I have physics,” she said.

“I need to talk to her,” you said again. “Everyone can ignore me again later, but I need to talk to her.”

“She’ll be practising her cello in her dorm tonight,” Bianca said with only a moment of thought. “Why do you need to talk to her?” She straightened up.

“I reacted poorly to something,” you said with a sigh. Bianca was going to be late to class; she didn’t seem to care. “And Ash said I-”

“-You talked with your ex before talking with your girlfriend?” Bianca interrupted. “Are you stupid?”

“Clearly,” you said as you threw your hands in the air. “That’s why I need to apologise.”

“Don’t tell her you talked to Ash,” she said with a pointed look. “Especially if you’re already in the doghouse.”

“Keep the trio away?” You asked.

Bianca didn’t answer, but nodded once after exhaling slowly.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, quickly stepping aside so she could get to class.

When you were finally standing in front of Wednesday’s door that evening, you felt numb.

Usually you would just walk in. After so long of being friends with Enid, and then with Wednesday, you had earned the privilege of coming in unannounced. But now? After the past few weeks and particularly after your reaction? Just the thought of walking in made your stomach churn. So you lifted your hand, knocked three times, and waited.

Wednesday was already in her everyday clothes when she opened the door. And yet, you couldn’t have found her more beautiful. You had missed her. If nothing else, you had just missed her company, her presence reminding you that on purpose someone chose to be with you. On purpose someone actually wanted you.

But then you saw the light bags under her eyes, and the downturn of her lips, and that murderous spark in her eyes. And you knew. You knew what was going on in her head, and you knew your heart wanted to jump out of your chest, and you knew your eyes stung. And you knew she was furious.

“Can we talk?” You asked quietly once you realised Wednesday wasn’t going to say anything.

“There’s nothing we need to talk about,” she said as she walked back out to the balcony.

“Yes there is,” you said. You shut the door behind you and followed after her like a lost puppy. Maybe you were. “I was a dick, and I’m so-”

“-I don’t require your apologies,” she interrupted you. “In fact, I would prefer you keep them to yourself.”

“No, it wasn’t right,” you said quickly. She still wasn’t even paying you any attention. “I didn’t say what I actually wanted to say.”

“I do not wish to hear what you wanted to say,” Wednesday said, and you froze. She was talking differently, like she had when you had first met. Why was she talking differently?

“What?” Maybe you heard her wrong.

“You made it clear you are either unable or unwilling to reciprocate,” she said, finally turning around to look at you. If you looked a little closer, you could see the slightest pink tint to her eyes.

“I’m- I’m not- I-” You couldn’t get the words out. You couldn’t get the fucking words out.

“Yoko has informed me of your unfortunate incidents around verbal affection.” She barely even let you open your mouth to answer. “To save us both some trouble, I have decided to return to our previous acquaintanceship so you may have the space you require.”

Oh. 

Oh. 

If your heart could physically break, that’s exactly what it was doing. You could hear and feel each individual beat of your heart, each one hurting more than the last. It made you want to rip into your chest with your bare hands and pull it out, offering the broken muscle to Wednesday on a silver platter if that’s what it would take to make it stop hurting.

“Acq- a- a- acquaintanceship?” You asked, shaking your head. Trying to get the migraine to go away. “Wednesday that’s- that’s not- I don’t-”

“-I am in the middle of something,” Wednesday interrupted. “You may say what you wish to say, then leave me to my allotted practice time.”

She turned her back to you and sat down in her chair on the balcony. Her delicate fingers repositioned the cello and picked up the bow, and it was like you weren’t even there. Like you hadn’t just come by to say you were sorry, to say you loved her too. You were nothing more than an inconvenience to her schedule, just like old times.

And you couldn’t even blame her.

The music started to resonate through the open window, bouncing off the walls of the room. It echoed in your skull and picked apart the folds of your brain one by one, like it was slicing the excess chunks off until it could force itself into every available inch of space. Usually you loved to hear her play, loved to sit on the roof above her and just watch until she was finished; a watchful gargoyle against the inky black sky.

But now? No, now it was just intolerable. Unbearable, even.

She didn’t turn around when you dragged your leaden feet to the door. Didn’t check on you when you tripped over the air, your feet hitting the ground with a little extra force. And she certainly didn’t turn around when you did. Don’t let me leave, your heart begged her.

“I just…” Don’t say it, your mind told you. Please say it, your heart cried. “I love you too, Wednesday.”

The cello came to a screeching halt, only for a second before resuming again. Wednesday didn’t turn around; you knew she wouldn’t. And all those big feelings you had finally mentally agreed to start feeling grabbed the shovel and started digging until they were six feet under the numbness.

Not even anger stayed on the surface. Not this time.

With shaky, sweating hands you opened the door and stood face to face with Enid, Yoko, and Divina. A lump formed in the back of your throat as you looked at each of them briefly. You forced an unconvincing smile and gently pushed past them. The hair on the back of your neck stood up as they watched you leave, but you didn’t care.

What was there to even care about anymore?

You felt numb.

—---

There was a reason Wednesday had never let anyone too close. It was a distraction, a liability, and it was a gateway to feeling hurt. Nothing good ever came out of letting anyone close. After all, look what had happened with Nero? She had loved him, and all it had gotten her was suffering. And not the good kind.

That’s what you had done. You had hurt her, and she hated you for it. She knew your situation, she understood as best as she possibly could. But her childish feelings had led to you hurting her. She had dared to open up and feel something, and it had led to all this unbearable suffering. Maybe she had been right when she had told her mother she would never fall in love.

It was impossible not to see you around Nevermore, and that made everything so much harder. You were there in class, grading papers or cleaning up afterwards. You were there in the quad, walking with Weems with a straight back and wings hidden. You were there in Jericho, sitting on a bench with shaking hands and a cup of coffee that had gone cold.

She hated you for that too. For looking so pitiful all the time, like a stray dog begging for someone to give them attention. Yoko was still upset with you, she had made it very clear on numerous occasions. But Kent and Ajax had pulled you in again, always sitting with you or hanging out with you again. You almost smiled on those days.

You turned cold with everyone. The occasional nod of acknowledgment, or even a small wave was all anyone got out of you. Not that she had tried to get your attention, she had told you to leave. Had downgraded your relationship to nothing more than acquaintances on the best of days. But she didn’t think you would have actually listened to her and started practically ignoring her.

More than once, Wednesday found you in some sort of disarray once the work day was done. Sometimes you were dangerously high in Kent and Ajax’s room, not saying a word but eyes focused on the ceiling. One of the boys always tried to keep the door closed enough for you to be hidden when she came by, but she could still see you. It was pathetic, truly. At least she tried to convince herself it was.

Other times she found you wandering the grounds late at night. Never with your wings out and always near the lake. She could see you from her balcony; sometimes she would catch you while practicing cello, other times she was actively looking for you. You would stand out there and just look. More than once you toed your shoes off and dove into the freezing water, fully clothed. Wednesday would wait with bated breath until you finally resurfaced after far too long.

You would crawl back up onto the dock, gasping and sputtering as you laid on your back with your hands over your face. She didn’t have to assume what was on your mind during those nights.

But the worst part was a few weeks later, when everyone was finally starting to talk about the Rave’N once again. You had wormed your way back into sitting with the group during meals, talking with everyone as if nothing had happened. Well, everyone except her. There was still a certain lack of emotion to your words, and an underlying anger.

With the way you talked to her though, as if she was someone you had barely met before instead of someone you had harboured feelings for. That was what hurt. Yes, she had told you to simply be an acquaintance, but she hadn’t expected it to be this utterly painful. To have you so close, the heat from your body warming her own, but not being able to touch you.

Wednesday knew it was unfair. She knew she should have heard you out, listened to you, even accepted whatever apology you would have attempted to come up with. It had been clear you were sincere, and she knew you were suffering over your own things. There was no ground for her to be painting you as the villain in this whole situation.

But she had made her choice. Yoko had told her of your aversion to people loving you. How you felt it only led to the suffering of those who fell victim to it. Nicky, Hailey, Alex, your ex. Each had suffered in some way after admitting their affections aloud.

Wednesday supposed she now could sign her name on that list as well.

“Are you going with Dumb and Dumber?” Divina asked you. You stopped picking apart your sandwich for a moment to look up before resuming. “Or Bianca?”

“Nah.” You shook your head slowly. “I volunteered as a chaperone.”

“So someone can spike the punch,” Yoko said with a small smile. “Devious.”

“More like so I can get out of cleanup duty,” you answered quickly. “You going with anyone, Addams?”

You mean far too much to call me that, Wednesday’s black heart cried. Your eyes were far too gentle and there was too much left unsaid in your question. Why were you being so gentle? She wanted you to fight back. If you weren’t going to fight for her, then she wanted you to fight her.

“You could always take Xavier,” Enid teased.

“She’s a sadist, not a masochist, Sinclair,” you shot back. But Wednesday saw the slightest downturn of the corner of your lips before you turned to look at her again. “You could do better.”

I can, she thought. I had you. But she kept her mouth shut and looked back down at the half eaten apple sitting in front of her. You shouldn’t be giving her relationship advice, you should be the one with her. You pushed her away, her mind told her. She just scowled and kept her head down.

“What about the barista at the Weathervane?” Yoko asked. “That Galpin kid.”

“Barista?” You asked as your head shot up. Wednesday noticed Yoko was staring directly at you with furrowed brows, almost daring you to say something wrong. “What barista?”

“He’s been sweet on Wednesday for the past month or so,” Yoko continued. Stop it, Wednesday thought when she could practically see the gears turning in your head, trying to connect dots that weren’t there. You’ll make her give up. “Some normie kid.”

“Wait, Tyler?” You asked.

“The Sheriff’s son,” Yoko said with a nod. She almost looked confident; it wasn’t a good look for her.

“You know Tyler?” Divina asked. Was he another ex of yours? Clearly you had them and weren’t keen on sharing your past experiences.

Oh. That thought was far more vindictive than Wednesday had intended. What were you even doing to her?

“They fought a few times,” Yoko answered before you could. You were still staring at your sandwich, lost in thought. “Didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “Sheriff Galpin knows me by name.”

“You should go with him,” Yoko said, finally turning to look at Wednesday. She was planning something. “I guess he’s cute. You two would be the talk of the dance.”

Wednesday turned to look at you from the corner of her eyes. She wanted you to say something. Argue, tell her it was stupid, fight her about it. But you didn’t. You didn’t even look at her, instead moving to pick apart the granola bar now that your sandwich was decimated.

Conversation ceased until everyone separated again.

Wednesday wasn’t convinced about asking Tyler to the Rave’N. Yes, he had been seeming far more interested in her over the past few weeks, and yes, he had given her free quads lately. Did she like him? He had done nothing of worth, so she felt absolutely nothing for him.

“Go ask him,” Ajax urged two evenings later while everyone was at the Weathervane.

You included. Currently you were on the other side of the cafe, sitting across the table from Bianca talking about who-knew-what. Neither one of you were smiling, but you rarely did when together. At least not when Wednesday was observing you both. You didn’t look upset; more neutral.

“She’ll see you ask him, get jealous, and then you’re in the clear,” Kent continued.

“Are you two high?” Enid asked cautiously.

“Not currently,” Ajax answered.

“Maybe that’s why you’re being so stupid,” Enid sighed.

“This ploy appears immature,” Wednesday said with a frown.

“If it works, does it matter?” Kent scoffed.

“Kent-”

“-Hear us out,” Ajax interrupted Enid. “I’ll comfort her about Nicky all day every day,” he started, “but that bitch needs tough love when it comes to relationships.”

“That sounds counterproductive,” Wednesday said.

“That’s why it works,” Ajax said with a smile and a nod. “If you think it’s ridiculous, then it works on her.”

“Oh my god,” Enid huffed. “Willa, just please ask Tyler to the Rave’N already so we can get back to normal.” She looked at Wednesday more seriously than ever before. “Thing and I want our cuddle buddy back.”

Wednesday looked over at you once again. You leaned back in your chair with your eyes on the coffee in front of you that was no longer steaming. You never finish it anymore, she thought with a slight frown. Was that her fault? Did you no longer drink coffee after she had given you space?

No. It couldn’t be her fault. She was never wrong.

Without a second glance in your direction, Wednesday stood up and walked to the counter with a purpose. Tyler was already there, cleaning something that, realistically, he had already cleaned. She noticed he had a habit of cleaning things when he was bored. Admirable, really.

“Need another quad?” Tyler asked with what Wednesday supposed everyone else would call a boyish smile.

“Do you have plans this Saturday evening?” She asked with a slight tilt of her head.

“Plans?” He asked, mirroring her. Clever. “Not yet.”

“Excellent,” she said. “Then you can accompany me to the Rave’N.”

“Are you asking me or telling me?” He asked, his smile turning into a smirk. “I won’t go unless I’m asked.”

Wednesday blinked once. The absolute audacity of this boy. Who did he think he was to demand to be asked? It almost stopped her right there, going back to the table because we tried, he’s not worth the effort, better luck next time. But Ajax and Kent swore it would work…

“Would you… go… to the Rave’N with me?” She asked with great struggle. The look in Tyler’s eyes indicated he enjoyed it.

“I would love to,” he said softly. “I’ll pick you up from your dorm at 7.”

She didn’t bother saying anything else to him. The whole situation was humiliating enough without adding even more conversation. When she turned around, she saw you; you were furious. If looks could kill, Tyler would have been eviscerated. Your bottom jaw readjusted a few times before you looked back down at your coffee.

Maybe this ridiculous plan would work after all.

The pointless dance came far sooner than Wednesday had been prepared for. She had been so busy watching you, revelling in your petty comments on Tyler and your sudden possessiveness that made occasional appearances. It hadn’t even occurred to her that the Rave’N was actually arriving, and you weren’t actually going with her.

For a moment she had forgotten about the current situation.

“You look beautiful,” Tyler said as he stood outside the now-opened dorm door.

“Let’s get going,” she said simply. “Thing, don’t wait up.”

Thing saluted and tucked back into the magazine he was reading. Wednesday took the corsage from Tyler and quickly walked away. The sooner this whole dance was over, the better. If Ajax and Kent’s stupid plan didn’t work, she was going to kill them. Slowly and painfully.

You were already at the dance by the time everyone arrived. Weems had greeted them, giving Wednesday a particularly unusual look, but you were inside. Not too far from the DJ, locked into what appeared to be a heated discussion with Eugene. The both of you were in white suits, and she wouldn’t deny you looked particularly stunning.

White was a wonderful colour on you.

Talk was cheap the entire night, not that she was paying attention. She was too distracted keeping an eye on you. On the way you were constantly walking around, fidgeting with your hands, tapping your foot far too offbeat to be usual. More often than not she would catch your eye; only for a moment, but that moment made her stomach twist into knots.

She had missed it.

“I’ll grab some punch,” Tyler said into her ear in an attempt to be heard over the music. She nodded once before he left.

Much to her excitement, you caught him at the table. That was the moment Wednesday realised Yoko was right; you two had history. It was evident in the frown on your face and the tight set of your jaw. In the way your lip lifted into a snarl at something he said. In the way you reached out and grabbed his arm when he tried to walk away.

She couldn’t hear what you were telling him, but she didn’t have to be smart to know it was about her. Not when the both of you turned your head simultaneously to look at her. She knew she should look at Tyler; he was her date for the night.

But she was looking at you. Only at you.

“I can see why you two aren’t together anymore,” Tyler said as he handed a cup to Wednesday once he got back to the group.

“Watch it, normie,” Bianca said. It wasn’t a threat. Yet. “You’re only a guest for the night.”

Everyone started conservative conversations, not about anything special. Now that everyone was on edge, no one deemed it appropriate to have fun. Wonderful, now they could feel almost as miserable as Wednesday did. Not that she was listening, of course, she was too busy staring at the cup sitting in front of her-

“-Wednesday.”

She felt a gentle hand on her shoulder, barely even touching her. She twisted in her seat in time to see you pull your hand back, holding the recently formed fist to your stomach. You were worrying your lip in that way she had become accustomed to, and your eyes were flitting between her and where Tyler was sitting.

“Can I talk to you for a second?”

She nodded once and stood up from her seat without wasting a single breath to tell anyone where she was going. Everyone should have noticed anyway, if the grin on Yoko’s and Divina’s faces were anything to go by. Your knuckles brushed against her hand before you quickly pulled away again.

“Be careful around Tyler,” you said once you had pulled her to the far side of the room.

It was the place where you had both stayed during the Rave’N last year. Had you done that on purpose? Or was the small detail so important, so ingrained into your head that you had done it subconsciously? Would she have even preferred it one way or another?

“He’s a prick,” you continued with a snarl of your lip. You glanced up in the direction of the table before looking back down.

“I simply needed someone to accompany me,” Wednesday said quickly. Don’t tell her that.

“To give me space,” you said with a nod. She blinked once and nodded back. “I don’t need space.”

“Yoko said-”

“-Quit listening to what Yoko said,” you interrupted not unkindly. “Listen to what I’m saying.”

Wednesday met your eyes. She could hold eye contact indefinitely if the need arose, unless it was with you. For once, you didn’t look high and you had clear eyes again. How long had it been since you had last been sober? There was such a clarity and intensity in your gaze that it was almost like you were looking through her.

And she missed you. Having you so close, your face mere inches from hers once again. It was disgusting, and humiliating, but she missed you. Missed your proximity, your voice, the way you looked at her as if you would break her. Yet even then you never treated her as fragile; instead like she was invaluable, irreplaceable even.

“I’m listening,” she said softly, her eyes flitting down to look at your lips as you licked them once.

“I just-”

-Your eyes darted up for a second before you did a quick double take. You straightened your back and kept looking behind Wednesday. She turned her head, almost instantly finding what had caught your attention. Sheriff Galpin had walked into the room with three officers - clearly not from Jericho, if the gear was anything to go by - following after him.

You both watched as Sheriff Galpin walked directly to Tyler, talking and gesturing. She hoped he was only coming to talk to his son; that would be typical for the man who barely tolerated Outcasts to begin with. But then they both turned and looked in her direction, in your direction.

“Y/N,” Sheriff Galpin said with what Wednesday could only describe as a pained smile.

“I didn’t touch Tyler,” you said with a shake of your head.

“That’s not why I’m here, kid,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“What is going on here?” Weems asked as she came up to the group. She looked furious.

“Out of my jurisdiction,” Sheriff Galpin said with a halfhearted shrug.

“Turn around and put your hands behind your back.” One of the officers behind Sheriff Galpin told you.

“Fuck,” you mumbled, but did exactly as directed.

“You’re under arrest for battery domestic violence and two counts of homicide,” the first officer said as the other put the handcuffs around your wrists.

“I beg your pardon?” Weems asked. “Where are these charges coming from?”

“You have the right to remain silent.”

The music continued to blare in the room, and everyone continued dancing. But the only thing Wednesday could hear was a ringing in her ears. You turned your head to lock eyes with her, and it felt like her heart had stopped beating. There was a fear in your eyes, but also something else. Something that was emphasised by the sag in your shoulders and the way your head hung low.

Acceptance.

“Call my Pop,” you said. You hadn’t listened to anything the officer had told you. "Please."

She wanted to reach out to you, to say something to you. Tell you it would be alright, or that she would get you out. But she didn’t say anything. She didn’t even move as they escorted you out of the Rave’N. No, she just stood there with Weems and watched until you disappeared.

You had been arrested. You were being taken to a jail, clearly not in Jericho, and she didn’t know where you were going. She couldn’t keep you safe, she didn’t get to hear what you had to say. You would now be labelled a criminal.

Maybe she had a type.

[exy-shmexy]

Some more wholesome Twinyards for you

Aaron is alone at the library in the (very) late evening studying for an upcoming biochemistry exam. It's a random Tuesday. Aaron is startled by Andrew quietly dropping down on the chair in front of him. He blinks, wondering what the hell his chronically-allergic-to-libraries twin is doing here.

Andrew silently reaches into his backpack—an old discolored black thing Nicky got him when they started high school—and gets his own books out of it as if it were the most normal thing. He pushes Aaron's laptop slightly to the side with a corner of his textbook.

Aaron is too stunned to say anything.

He just watches Andrew splay an array of annotated papers in front of him, settling into his own homework session.

"What are you doing?" Aaron finally manages to ask after a long stretch of silence.

Andrew lifts his head, usual boredom plastered on his face. "Studying."

"You never come here."

Andrew shrugs. Aaron knows it's the end of the conversation because Andrew lowers his head and begins scribbling more notes down as he goes through his set of mandatory readings. Aaron stares, frowning. He tries to get back to his own biochemistry notes, but his brain has decided to stop working.

Andrew should be with Kevin and Neil for their usual evening practice session.

But then it hits him.

"You were listening?" he asks. Andrew looks up again, one eyebrow raised. "The other night, when I was talking with Matt," Aaron continues. "I told him Katelyn would be away for the week with the other cheerleaders. You heard us?"

Andrew sighs in what Aaron is now certain is feigned annoyance. "You don't like studying on your own, you can't focus if there isn't someone else with you."

Aaron blinks. "So you came here to... keep me company?"

"Neil and Kevin are being intolerable Exy junkies together. Nicky is out with Matt and Dan. Renee is... busy with Allison. Unless you made some friends on the football team no one knows about, which is highly unlikely considering you punched one of them—"

"He deserved it."

"—then I don't think there was any other option. Don't overthink it. I just couldn't stand the stickball fanatics a minute longer." And with that Andrew dives back into his coursework.

Aaron is smiling so big it's actually embarrassing. He clears his throat, knowing perfectly well Andrew didn't mean the last part of his statement because he never does anything he doesn't want to do. Andrew is with him because he knows Aaron can't stay focused ifhe doesn't have someone to study with. Usually it's Katelyn, but Katelyn isn't there.

Andrew is.

Aaron goes back to his intercellular communication notes. He loses track of time, and quickly forgets how long they stay in the library together. Once Aaron declares he's done for the night (having noticed Andrew had been done for a whole half hour and was busy getting ahead of his notes), he asks him if he wants to go to the sandwich place close by. His gift. Andrew accepts. They go together, and spend another hour together. They don't talk a lot, but the shared companionship is enough.

When the next Tuesday arrives and Andrew shows up again instead of Katelyn, Aaron is more than happy to clear up some space for his brother at the desk.

When he learns about this, Neil secretly tells Katelyn to give them one evening together away from everyone every week and she graciously accepts