#white text on a yellow background you gotta be fucking with me

[wiishopwednesday]

longing for something you can never return to

[ID: a collection of images relating to nostalgia. the first image is a genius screenshot of the lyrics to car seat headrest's "famous prophets (stars)." the screenshot reads "We gotta go back/We gotta go back/We gotta go back/We gotta go back." the second image is the "we got the torture labyrinth tomorrow" meme template, edited to instead say "We got missing what we can never return to tomorrow/What?/We got the beginning of the rest of our lives tomorrow/Ohhhh/Okay." the third image is a discord screenshot, with the user's username and icon cropped out so that only the text is visible, and reads "Duuudeee you missed out on those 7 days where god created earth you are fucked LOL." the fourth image is a screenshot of a piece of text, which reads in bolder font "You can never leave home." underneath it, in normal text, it reads "You take it with you no matter where you go. Home is between your teeth, under your fingernails, in the hair follicles, in your smile, in the ride of your hips, in the passage of your breasts." the fifth image is a screenshot of a post made by tumblr user ryebreadgf, which reads "YOU CAN NEVER GO BACK! YOU CAN NEVER GO BACK! YOU CAN BITE AND SCRATCH AND BEG BUT YOU CAN NEVER GO BACK!" the sixth image is a screenshot of a piece of text that reads, "YOU KILL YOURSELF AND IMMEDIATELY WAKE UP AS A CHILD ON YOUR PARENTS BED. YOU'VE BEEN ASLEEP FOR HALF AN HOUR. THE SUN IS SHINING." the seventh image is a picture of two uneven dark yellow boxed next to each other on a off-white background. the first box reads, in handwriting, "I'm terrified of change." the second box reads, "I'm terrified of staying this way forever." the eighth image is a screenshot of a post made by tumblr user dakotajohnsongf, which reads "women be looking at pictures of their childhood selves and trying to find a way back to them." the ninth image is a screenshot of a post made by tumblr user bestofgentleearth, containing a screenshot from a forum of some kind. a line of text reads "(16 hours ago) butterfly said:" underneath, an indented section of text reads "today, the world looked beautiful again. i'm starting to remember what kept me alive last summer." the tenth image is another tumblr post by user cursedsuggestion, which reads "the friend you miss comes home for good. you never see another mirror. it's summer forever and that terrible thought you keep having finally disappears." the eleventh image is a screenshot of a reddit post, with the original poster's username and icon cropped out so only the text is visible. it reads "I'm not sure how to word this, but I constantly go through this deep sense of loss. I feel like I terribly miss something I love from the bottom of my heart, but I don't know what it is, exactly. Nothing in life satisfies me, nothing makes me content, but l wouldn't say I'm depressed either. There's just this endless search for something, and at times I feel I can catch a glimpse of it - different sceneries pop into my head at times, like of a particular beach at night, and I'm moved to tears. Or I remember a dream and all the feelings that were stirring while I saw that dream, and feel entirely connected to them." the twelfth image is a screenshot of a tumblr post, but the original poster is cropped out so only the text is visible, which reads "wait i wasn't ready. i never finished that game of tag. i still need to learn how to do a cartwheel. my friends and i never finished making that bridge over the creek. i want to go back. can you carry me to bed one last time? and maybe i'll wake up tomorrow in my childhood room with my pink walls and we'll laugh over this dream at breakfast." the thirteenth image is another tumblr screenshot of a post by user heavensghost, which reads "uhhh yh sure u can go back but no one will be waiting for you there."

the fourteenth image is a screenshot of a reddit comment, with the user's information cropped out so that only the text is visible, which reads "HIRAETH (heer-eye-th) 'A deep homesickness; an intense form of longing or nostalgia for a place long gone, or even an unaccountable homesickness for a place you have never visited. A pull on the heart that conveys a distinct feeling of missing something irretrievably lost.'" the fifteenth image is a collection of 3 rows of black boxes, with 3 boxes in each row. the first box has a white, vague form of a human. the second box pictures the human form stretching its arms and legs out. from the third box onward, the human figure starts to dissipate into white dots until it has completely disappeared and only dots remain. the sixteenth image is a tumblr post by user n1ntendos, which reads "I AM HAUNTED BY A PAST I CANNOT GO BACK TO !!!!!!! anyways." the seventeenth image is a screenshot of text that reads "I cling to everything - CDs that skip, rings that turn my fingers green, the dead ends of my hair, old love notes that turn my stomach over and over. And I'm not proud but there are still boxes under my bed. And I'm not proud but my closet is still running out of space. And nostalgia is a fucking waste of time but my heart is full with it. Tell me I won't hold this forever. Tell me there will be a day where I let gloriously go." the eighteenth image is an image of larger text that reads "It's a summer day, and I want to be wanted more than anything else in the world." the nineteenth image is a photograph of a large white dog standing in a dark, flowing river surrounded by a dark forest and green trees. the dog is facing away from the viewer with its mouth open. the dog appears to be glowing, likely due to a lens flare of some kind. the entire picture feels very melancholy and nostalgic. the twentieth image is larger text that reads "Nostalgia is the aching realization that you can't go back again. The longing, no matter how intense, can never be met." the twenty-first image is a screenshot of an instagram dm, with the user's username and icon cropped out so that only the text is visible, and it reads "well the time passes anyway so I have to." the twenty-second image is a screenshot of the spotify lyrics for gerard way's song "action cat." the lyrics read "Hey/Do you miss me?/'Cause I miss you/Do you miss me?/'Cause I miss you/Do you miss me?/'Cause I miss you/Do you miss me?/'Cause I miss you too." the twenty-third image is a screenshot of text that reads "YOUR CHILDHOOD DOG IS ALIVE. YOUR DEAD BEST FRIEND WANTS TO GET COFFEE. YOU HAVE BEEN KIND AND GOOD. THERE IS NOTHING CHASING YOU. YOU CAN SLEEP. WHAT DO YOU DO?" the twenty-fourth image is a continuation of the lyrics from car seat headrest's "famous prophets (stars)" that were pictured in the first image. these lyrics read "We've gotta go back/We've gotta go back/We've gotta go back/(Don't spend too much time on it)." end ID.]

[honeymoonjin]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 9.8k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:

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banner designer @jamaisjoons​ 

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: voyeurism, exhibitionism, filmed sex, sex toys, bondage, blindfolds, use of safeword (yellow, not red), aftercare, pet names, praising, degradation, controlled orgasm - delay/denial/forced, oral (m receiving), masturbation, face fucking, loss of virginity (wink wonk it’s our namjoonie), however not full sex just a bj

DAY FIVE

“Going outside again today, Namjoonie?” Yoongi questions with a teasing grin.

Namjoon sighs morosely at the thunderous downpour of rain visible through the kitchen windows. “It’s over for me,” he announces sullenly. “I’ve lost.”

You pause, spoonful of rice hovering in front of your open mouth. “So your prompt was ‘the outdoors’, huh?”

A miserable cry leaves his throat before he buries his face in his arms, slumped at the dining table where a few of you have gathered for breakfast. “Damn it,” he whines, muffled by the thick cable knit sweater he’s wearing. 

You’d woken up early to a crack of thunder; the weekend storm apparently descending upon the villa earlier than expected. For once, you’d had to help Jungkook work out the heating system, cranking it up until you could smell the quickly-heating dust that had gathered from lack of use. 

Yoongi, also an early riser, had announced that a day like today required a hot breakfast, and you’d helped him prepare a basic stew and some steamed rice as you were gradually joined by Namjoon, Jin and Hoseok. You’d waited a bit for the remaining two contestants, but the wafting aroma of beef and potato quickly broke your patience.

You finish your mouthful with a chuckle, leaning over to rub his back. “But now that you’re already going to get the penalty, you may as well do whatever you want.”

Namjoon’s body is still for a few moments as he considers this, before the faded purple of his hair jostles with a nod. “I guess so,” is the reply that comes from the crook of his arm.

You grin. “It’s okay, it’s not like you’re the last one. Hoseok hasn’t gone yet, and I swear Jimin doesn’t even wake up before midday.”

Hoseok narrows his eyes at you challengingly but before he can retort, the youngest makes a noise of disagreement in his throat. 

“Oh, he’s not sleeping,” Jungkook answers breezily between cheeks stuffed with rice. “What? Yesterday I wanted to ask if I could borrow one of his shirts for my stream this week - you know, that see-through pink one he wore over a white shirt? - and he didn’t answer when I knocked so I opened the door-”

“Jungkook,” Yoongi and Jin cut in simultaneously, faces turned down in disappointment.

“Wait!” Jungkook protests. “It’s not as bad as it sounds! I just stuck my head in the door and he was in the bathtub-”

“He gets a bath and I don’t?” Hoseok asks incredulously.

“Hobi-hyung, please,” Jungkook whines. “Not the point. So like, his hair was covered in white stuff and he had this bright green clay mask on his face and a black one all over his hands and the water was like pink, but still see-through and I could kinda smell rose and maybe tea tree oil but then he was yelling at me to get out and then I got a text saying if I told anyone he’d-” Jungkook pauses, his excitement fizzing out suddenly, replaced by a look of pure fear. “Oh, I probably shouldn’t have said all that. Let’s pretend that never happened.”

Jin looks like he wants to ask for more information, but Hoseok huffs, shuffling in his seat impatiently. “Who cares,” he spits petulantly. “He isn’t fucking Edward Cullen; just because he’s mysterious doesn’t make him hot. I can be mysterious.”

Yoongi gasps, pointing at Hoseok’s feet wordlessly. That alone is enough for the younger man to let out a pealing yelp, stumbling up out of his chair and jumping on his feet, frantically patting himself down as he wide-eyes the floor. Yoongi begins chuckling, a dry cackle that spreads to the others at the table, and Hoseok deflates, sending him a withering gaze.

Sitting back down in defeat, though not without glancing down one last time cautiously, Hoseok huffs at Yoongi, mouth sticking out in a pout. “You’re lucky I’ve already found my arch nemesis or it would be you, Yoongi-hyung.”

“What a relief,” Yoongi replies in sarcastic monotone. 

Hoseok frowns, before cheering up again to send you a bright grin. “Hey, Y/n, are you gonna go out to the confessional booth today?”

“Real subtle,” Yoongi murmurs lowly.

Ignoring him, you shake your head. “It’s raining,” you reply, “I’ll get wet.”

“I’m sure you will.”

Hoseok tuts, the dull thud of his foot stomping making Yoongi fight to prevent a smile. “Stop it, hyung! You’ll give it away!”

“It’s okay, Hoseok,” you assure, “it doesn’t really matter if you lose. The penalty is just spending the week in the bunk room. If you think about it, it’s like a sleepover.”

The doms eyes slide back and forth as he considers this. “Okay!” he announces cheerily. “My prompt is the confessional booth! If everyone else says theirs, we can all hang out together!”

You swear you could hear a pin drop. Namjoon looks like he’s feeling sorry for himself again, Jungkook and Jin are both avoiding his entreating gaze, and Yoongi just stares at Hoseok unabashed, smirk deepening as the silence stretches out.

After a minute of dead air, Hoseok frowns. “Fuck you guys. I wanted to sleep on the bunk beds anyway.”

Feeling bad for him, you stand up, collecting the empty bowls around the table and taking them out to the kitchen. “It’s okay, Hobi,” you chime, “if everyone else succeeds for theirs then I can keep you company.”

Hoseok’s eyes go wide, before he turns to Namjoon. “Buddy, you gotta fuck her outside. Let me have this.”

Namjoon pales, staring at the rain outside which continues to bucket down. “We’ll catch a cold.” 

“Fine, I’ll just make sure I don’t lose,” Hoseok insists, standing up himself. 

You walk back towards the dining room. “What are you gonna do, ma-Hobi!” You squeal as your body is suddenly lifted, swung over a shoulder. 

“Woah, hyung, you’re strong!” you hear Jungkook gush as Hoseok carries you without so much as a grunt. “That’s so cool!”

“Hey!” you try to snap, but with your body folded over a bony shoulder and hair dangling on end, you can’t imagine the heat of your comment is felt by anyone. “This is kidnapping!”

“Not really,” Jin calls out in a bright tone, “he’s not taking you off the property.”

You kick your legs in the air in frustration, blood rushing to your head. “Fuck you! You can go fuck Yoongi without me next time!”

“As far as threats go, that’s not strong,” Jin retorts, his voice carrying over the three shocked parties. “Fucking Yoongi would be a pleasure.”

“Thanks, Jin-hyung.”

“No problem.”

You feel your cheeks heat up with the added blood and your eyes ache, so you give up the fight, instead batting your fists against Hoseok’s ass in protest. “Hurry up, John Cena,” you grumble. “Either let me down or take me to the confessional room before I pass out.”

“So demanding,” Hoseok tuts, but before you know it you’re shifting, getting tugged down and up and sideways, vision spinning sickly until you’re resting, bridal style, in Hoseok’s arms.

You pout up at the dark-haired man. “Hobi, I feel seasick now.”

He grins, lips quirking into a heart shape. “Are you that wet already?”

Your head lolls back as you kick your legs weakly in his hold. “Stop it,” you whine. “Being mean.” 

“Poor baby,” he jibes, and calls out a cheery goodbye to the others, walking you out to the outside dining area where you’d spent that first night, and following the house around until you arrive at the garden shed that houses the confessional room. Once he lets you down, he checks his phone, wincing at what he sees. “Shit. Producer Shin is getting impatient.”

Even with all the excess blood in your head, you pale at the thought of the friendly middle-aged man that operated the camera in the room. “He’s not waiting there, is he?”

“No,” Hoseok dismisses distractedly, typing out a reply, “I exiled him to Sejin’s caravan out front. He just doesn’t like leaving his post for too long in case others want to film.” After he pockets his phone, he glances up at you, a strange dark flicker in his eyes. “Get inside and sit on the stool. Wait for me.”

Your mouth drops at the sudden change in his tone, his demeanor. “Why should I have to wait?” you protest. “You’re the one that wants me in-”

You jump when a sudden smacking noise rings in your ears, sharp and thin. In front of you, Hoseok has simply clapped his hands together once, but the fright as well as his sudden seriousness has your words dying in your throat. 

“I don’t appreciate subs that talk back,” he says slowly, each word enunciated and clear, like he’s reciting an important law. “So go inside, sit on the stool, and wait.”

“Yes, sir.” The honorific is meant to be a final sarcastic sign of defiance, but you find yourself meaning it as you say it. This isn’t Hobi that you can joke and laugh with. This is a glimpse of what he’s like at his job at the dungeon. Of what he’s like when he’s Master.

His back straightens and his face clears in approval, but he doesn’t praise you for it, simply standing in stoic expectation for you to follow his order.

When you get inside, you feel his eyes on your back like two hot pinpricks, but you don’t dare look back, leaving the door open a crack as you sit on the stool.

The room itself is cramped, with just enough room for the stool, the camera, and a seat behind it, empty for the first time since you’ve arrived. You’re used to seeing a producer sitting behind it, open from eight in the morning until midnight; Producer Shin doing the early half and Producer Kang in the evening. Both were friendly, middle-aged men. Shin was divorced and Kang was happily married with two kids in primary school, and after you’d gone through whatever thoughts were on your mind and whatever questions fans had sent in, both men would often switch off the camera and chat with you about whatever topic felt interesting at the time. 

Though it wasn’t broadcasted like your interactions with the other guys, you really had found good company in the two of them, as well as Sejin. On the Tuesday after Namjoon had walked out on you, you’d even gone out the front door to the caravan where Sejin resided, joined by Shin as the two ate dinner. While the two of them, Sejin especially, preferred not to know any extra information about the game just to maintain a professional distance, but that didn’t mean they didn’t give you a hot cup of tea and a portion of the Chinese food they’d ordered in and distract you with chatter about a k-drama Sejin was watching. 

Used to them, it feels strangely empty in the confessional room with that empty chair, more so now that you’re restless with anticipation, eyes straining to see outside the sliver of door you left open. 

He leaves you for a long time. Whether it’s on purpose or not, or whether you’re just feeling the drag as you wait, you don’t know, but it seems like hours of being on full alert before the sudden metallic screech of the door opening gives you a fright, heart racing as he steps inside. 

You gape as he casually steps behind you, a hand on the back of your head locking you in place when you try and look back at him. The glimpse you got was enough to see that he’d changed clothes slightly; bright yellow sweater replaced with a black leather jacket open over a see-through black shirt. The sight of him in your mind flashes every time you blink like an afterimage. Beyond the all-black ensemble, the tight ripped jeans and the heavy boots, perhaps the picture that stays behind your eyelids the longest is that of his hands. You didn’t have enough time to see, but he was holding what looked like a small rucksack, like the kind you’d take swimming or to play tennis. Somehow, you imagine what it contains isn’t so innocent.

You swallow as his fingers press on your scalp, splayed out. “Face the front,” he commands, and his voice brooks no protest. Once his hand leaves you, you remain still; hyper aware of the effort it takes to keep your eyes ahead, staring at the wall behind the Producer’s chair. “Arms.”

Pausing, you stare dumbly down at them as they rest on your lap. “What?”

Hoseok lets out a light sigh, like he’s exercising great patience, and taps your elbow. “Behind your back. Both of them.” 

You follow his order, a shiver running through you when his hands, calloused but limber, grasp your wrists tightly. He ties you up in silence, the cool caress of silk making your eyes slip shut in bliss. While you definitely have an interest in it, your experience in bondage isn’t particularly vast, and you marvel at how such a simple tie changes you. With every swish of fabric against the delicate skin of your wrists, your nerves all over your body sing out, need pooling between your legs. Your shoulder blades are tucked back, opening out your chest, and even in a thick hoodie and leggings, you feel deliciously exposed. Your forearms are crossed over in the hollow of your back so that the tie binds your wrists together. Instinctively, your fingers wrap around your opposite forearm for support, and knowing that there’s no back to the chair, that you’re now open on all sides, has your heart-rate picking up. 

You feel your arms tugged as he tightens the knot with a flourish, before slipping two fingers under. 

“Wiggle your fingers,” he instructs, and you obey. “Try to get out.” You pause for a moment, but then pull in opposite directions, attempting to wiggle yourself out, but to no avail. “Good.”

You swallow again, fighting against the dryness of your mouth. “What are you-” Your eyes fly open wide as his hand claps over your mouth, pulling your head back to rest against his chest as he looks down at you. You make a noise of protest, but he shushes you, brows in a straight line of disapproval.

“I ask the questions, princess. You see that chair?” He points ahead, and you try to nod but fail as his hand keeps you still, your breath coming hot through your nose. “That’s where the producer sits and asks you questions. So the only thing I want to hear from you are the answers to my questions, and your safewords if you need them. Understood?”

You try and nod again; this time, he unwraps his fingers from over your mouth and lets you catch your breath. “Yes, sir,” you confirm, voice small.

“Do you remember your colours, princess? Can you tell me?”

You lick your lips where they’ve gone dry. “Green for go, yellow for slow down and red for stop... Sir.”

If he catches the pause where you almost forgot to say his title, he lets it slide. “Good. Let’s begin.” 

You’re left dazed when he lets go of you and steps away in one swift motion, stepping to the side. You force yourself to keep your gaze ahead, unsure if the command from earlier is still in effect, but your eyes strain to make out the peripheral of him bending over the rucksack, rifling deep inside it. Your stomach curls at the sounds that emanate; the soft thuds of glass and silicone, the jangle of metal, the rustle of fabric. 

Finally, he stretches up again, and you suck in a breath when his hand finds its way to your mouth again, this time wrapping tightly around your jaw and turning your face to look up at him, at the small device he’s wiggling in his fingers. 

“Do you know what this is, princess?” Hoseok grins, and your eyes focus in on the small metal object. It’s short, a stubby cylinder. On closer inspection you notice a small remote tucked in his palm. A remote-controlled bullet vibrator. You nod as much as you can in his iron grip, and his eyes twinkle. “Are you gonna be a good girl for me and let me put it in?”

Your heart stops, blood rushing south as your desire skyrockets. “Yes, sir,” you gasp needily, unable to help yourself rocking your hips against the smoothed top of the wooden stool. 

Hoseok tuts at your movements. “Good girls stay still,” he chastises, and you freeze, feeling your jaw ache once he lets go.

As it turns out, ‘in’ doesn’t mean inside of you, but rather in your panties. Your fingernails dig into your forearms with the effort to not move, biting down hard on your tongue. He steps in front of you, hands dipping shamelessly to the front of your leggings, fingers tugging at the elastic and releasing, letting it snap onto your front. You hiss in a breath through your nose but don’t speak, remembering his rule. Going back, this time his hand slips under both layers, and you can’t help the whine that comes out when you feel cold metal against the heat of your core, sliding over your clit. Frustratingly, he himself doesn’t touch you, only placing the vibe before removing his hand, patting over your crotch where you can see the obscene bulge, straight down the middle. 

You let out a breath, brows furrowing with want, but he simply walks away, leaving you tied up and waiting as he sits behind the camera. 

He looks entirely in his element, legs spread and leaning back in the chair, fingers running over the control in his hands. In front of him, slightly to the right so his face isn’t blocked, is the camera. It’s still set up, black lens staring you down from its position on the tripod. You watch with baited breath as he leans over and turns it on with a little electronic beep, Your pussy clenches at the thought of him filming this, not for the show but for himself. 

How he’d take it to his room, booting up his laptop and locking his door. He probably sat much like he is now when he jerked off; legs wide to make room for his hands. Watching you moan and writhe, hands trapped behind you and chest pressed out as the metallic whine of the vibrations is just barely audible through his speakers. Would he drag it out, wanting to savour every last minute of the video, stroking himself slowly so as not to cum too soon, or would he be frantic, desperate, panting alone in his room as he tries to orgasm in time with you, spilling all over himse-

An unbidden cry leaps from your throat as you’re taken off-guard by the sudden voltage between your legs. Your thighs snap shut but the pleasure continues, Hoseok watching raptly as your shoulders twist, the instinct to pull your arms forward even as soft silk holds firm. “Hobi,” you whine imploringly. 

He ignores you, ramping the vibrations up enough that the noise fills the room; a constant high-pitched whirring that rings in your ears even as you clench your thighs around it. Though you’d enjoyed the odd vibrator yourself, you were sure Hoseok knew full well that there were always a few high settings that were quite simply too much. It overstimulates you before you’ve even orgasmed, so much you can’t take it. 

“Hobi!” you cry, curling over yourself as if you can escape it. Belatedly, in your electrified brain, a puzzle piece clicks into place. “Sir! Sir, please, turn it off! It hurts, please!”

You go lax, shuddering when it stops suddenly; the only sound in the confessional room coming from your heavy breathing. 

“Oh, princess,” he soothes in a warm voice, “don’t worry. Sir will help you learn. Think of this as training, hm? I want our time together to be enjoyable, but it’s important that you know how to behave. Sir would rather reward you than punish you. That’s fair, don’t you think?”

You straighten up awkwardly, the weight of your arms crossed over your back making it difficult. He’s patient, smiling once you face him upright again. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

His eyes glimmer at that, and your core clenches, all too aware of the powerful motor resting over your clit. You wanted him to be happy with you, not just because you want a reward, but because you know just how unbearable his punishment would be. “Here’s the plan: I’m going to ask you some questions, and you’re going to answer them. If I don’t like your answer, you know what happens. Understood?”

You feel your arms and thighs break out in goosebumps at the thinly veiled threat. “Understood, sir.”

“Then let’s begin. We’ll start with an easy one, hm? How do you address me?”

“Sir.”

“Correct. When should you speak?”

“When spoken to,” you answer automatically, but his head cocks to the side, raising the remote meaningfully. Your mind scrambles. “Wait! And if I have to use the safewords, sir.”

The hand holding the remote lowers again as he nods. “That’s right. I can punish you for forgetting the other rules and move on, but if you ignore that then we can’t play at all, princess.” Hoseok smiles placidly. “Those are the ones we’ve already learnt. Let’s see how good your instincts are.”

You take in a deep breath, eying up the remote warily. This was uncharted territory, so the chance of you making a mistake just went right up. Rather than making any comment, you bite your tongue and wait for him to address you. 

“When do you get to cum?” Hoseok asks in an authorial tone. 

You pause for a moment, not wanting to blurt out something wrong. “When Sir gives me permission?”

He smiles placidly. “Good. Now; normally with my subs, they come only by my say-so. But I know for you, that isn’t reasonable given you have to play with the others. However there is still something I expect to have control over. Think for a bit; I’ll give you time. What can you not do without my permission?”

You stare at him imploringly but he just waits for your answer. You rack your mind for some clue, running over his words. He only wanted you to cum with his permission, but he was saying sex with the others was fine. So it wasn’t like you couldn’t cum at all without him around... You blink, feeling cold dread settle down your back as you come up blank. “I don’t get it, sir, I’m sorry.”

“That’s disappointing.” Even as you brace yourself, the powerful vibrations shock you to your core, more intense than you remember them. Hoseok’s eyes remain on you as you rock your hips and wiggle your torso, body trying to escape the overwhelming sensations even as you know you can’t. He holds you like that for what feels like an eternity, though it can’t be more than a minute or two. Finally, just as you feel like you’re going to fall apart, he takes mercy, and the vibrations cease, leaving you gasping. 

“The answer I was looking for,” Hoseok explains coolly, “is masturbate. You are not allowed to masturbate as long as I am in the show. If you want that release, you’re to come to me, and I’ll decide if you’ve earned it. Is that clear?”

You open your mouth for a disingenuous yes, but he beats you to the bunch.

“And if you break that rule, don't think I won’t notice. I have mercy for mistakes but I don’t take well to direct disobedience.” 

You deflate, lips turning down in a frown. It takes you a moment to commit. “Yes, sir.” 

“Good.” His eyes glint proudly at the power you’ve handed over to him, and you clench your thighs together, not wanting to admit just how much that look affects you. “I have one last question for you. What would you like from me?”

This feels like a question with no right answer, but still you hesitate. Ask for too much and he might chastise you. “A kiss, please, sir,” you try tentatively.

Hoseok’s eyes crinkle slowly as he smiles, standing up. “How romantic, princess.” You turn your chin up in anticipation, toes curling as he sidesteps the camera and moves closer, leather jacket shifting to reveal tantalising slips of skin, covered by the black sheer mesh. Once in front of you, he bends down painfully slowly, close enough that your eyes slip shut, the lightest brush of his lips on yours and-

He chuckles above you as the vibrations reappear with a vengeance, making you jerk violently and curse.

“Sir! Please!” you cry. Each time the vibrations come, they’re more insufferable, like they’re breaking down your defenses one pulse at a time. “Sir, please stop it, it’s too mu-uch!”

Hoseok turns it down, but not off, so that a gentle thrumming keeps you shuddering. He reaches behind you to tug your hair, pulling your head up to face him as he stands above you, tutting. “Why would I give you what you want?” he asks rhetorically. “You didn’t answer all my questions correctly. Maybe next time, hm?”

The vibrations are now the exact opposite of before - too low to bring you close to your high. “Hobi, plea- Sir, please, make me cum! I tried my best!” You round your eyes and pout, trying to plead with him. 

Though he tries to hide it, his poker face falters for just a second. Just a twitch of his eye, a softening of his jaw, but you know you have him. 

You let your voice soften even more, the sweetest begging. “I’ll be good for you, sir. Please just let me cum.” 

Hoseok lets out a sigh, eyes melting. “Just this once, princess,” he allows, “Sir will go easy on you since you’re just learning.” He smiles at the way you moan in relief once the vibrations pick up again, the divine middle ground between too much and not enough. With your senses so heightened, it’s no surprise to feel the coil in your stomach quickly tightening, egged on by the fond way he strokes your hair, brushing it off your face to drink in your reactions. “Are you going to cum for me?”

“Y-yes, sir,” you breathe, hips rocking as much as you can without compromising your balance. It’s an overwhelming feeling having your arms still tied behind you. The thought that you aren’t in control of your own pleasure. Considering his prior rule, it doesn’t surprise you that he started with a scene where you didn’t even have the choice to cum without permission. Every time the silk tugs at your wrists or the metal vibe slides slightly with your grinding, it just reminds you of how you’re fully at his mercy, and you can’t wait to feel what that’s like once you finally cum. It’s not quite enough though; so wet, the metal slips more than you’d like and it frustrates you when the pressure isn’t enough, or is in the wrong place. You hiccup a sob when he turns the vibrations up just one more level, so close to your edge you could cry. “Ho-hobi, please, I need more.” You sniff at the way his brows tick. “Sir,” you cry desperately, legs widening in invitation. 

Hoseok lets out a low grumble as his jaw flexes. “You’re lucky I’m going easy on you,” he announces, before dropping a hand down and cupping it over your center, pressing the vibrator right over your clit. “You better cum now, princess, I’m getting impatient. You wouldn’t want Producer Shin to walk in right now, hm? Poor man just wants to do his job, not deal with whiny little girls like you who just want to cum. Do you know why I’m not fucking you right now, princess? Because I know you couldn’t help yourself from making a mess. I bet you’re sopping wet in those panties of yours.” 

With every sentence, Hoseok grinds the heel of his palm over you, jostling the vibrator against your swollen clit and before you know it, you’re cumming, leaning forward and burying your head in his chest as you latch your thighs around his hand, cresting the high. 

He holds you there the whole time, vibrator jumping up another level to make you let out a squeal. As your vision begins to clear and your body returns to normal, the vibrations make you jump and whimper against him, arms flexing aggressively as you fail to pull your hands in front of you, no way of stopping the assault of sensation- unless; “Sir! Turn it off, sir, please!”

Hoseok takes mercy on you and the vibrations cease. As you gasp for breath, the sheer fabric of his shirt itching your cheek, you feel his palms slide over your shoulders and down your back, warm even through your hoodie, and reach for the length of silk. You make a low noise of disapproval at the feeling of being untied, not wanting the scene to be over, but he just shushes you gently, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. 

Your shoulders twinge once your hands fall to your sides, and you follow his instructions to roll them out as he massages the muscles. While his fingers aren’t as heavenly as Taehyung’s, it does ease the ache, and you let him sit you up as he fishes the slick metal bullet out from between your legs, smirking at the way you shudder when his knuckles brush against your sensitive clit.

“Now, princess,” he announces lowly, “Shin will be coming back soon, so we need to head out. But I still have one last lesson for you. Are you able to keep going? It’s nothing too crazy, I promise.”

You swallow the dryness in your throat that’s come from your heavy breaths and nod, a soft smile gracing your face with the satisfaction of a good orgasm. 

Hoseok hums, pleased, and pats your cheeks warmly before holding up the black silk. “One of the most important things in a scene,” he explains, brushing your hair back with his free hand, his knuckles light against the sensitive skin of your neck, “is trust. So we’re going to take a walk back to the house together, princess. Only you’ll be wearing this.”

Your breath hitches as the silk comes over your eyes, cool on your lids and temples as he ties it in a knot at the back, tight enough that it won’t slip but making sure it isn’t catching your hair or digging in. It’s a new kind of vulnerability, having your hands free but your sight prohibited, and you find your head tilting up blindly, seeking him out in the void.

“Oh, Y/n,” you hear him chant in a whisper, “you have no idea how beautiful you look right now.”

You shiver, hands clutching at him, slippery fabric and sharp teeth of a zip scratching your palms. “Sir,” you say, no words coming to mind but his title as his hands grasp your sides, lifting you off the stool. You stumble a but, hands flying out to steady yourself in the darkness. Your heart races when you realise your hands are empty, and as you wave them around, it’s all open air, feeling deep like a crevasse. “Hobi?”

Hoseok ignores the slip, his voice coming slightly to your right, but at a distance. “Follow my voice, princess. I’ll keep you safe. Come.”

Your mouth hangs open and your feet feel leadened to the floor. As fear begins to roil in your chest, you slide your feet forward, shuffling closer, hands scanning the air in front of you. With no sight, every inch feels like walking up to the edge of a cliff, hands grasping for contact that never comes. Your breath hitches, lungs not expanding fully. “H-hoseok, yellow,” you gasp, eyes tearing at the fear that grips your heart. “I don’t like it.”

“Okay, shh, you’re alright, I’m here,” Hoseok comforts, his voice closer, and you let out a sob of relief when your hands touch the mesh of his shirt, elbows buckling as he pulls you into a tight hug. The restriction on your ribs falls away the moment his chin rests on the crown of your head and his hands rub soothingly at your back. “I’m so sorry, princess,” he murmurs gently, “too far, hm? Are you still okay with the blindfold?”

You sniff and nod, bottom lip trembling so much that you don’t dare speak.

“So not being able to touch me was too much? That’s okay, don’t get upset, we don’t have to do that. Do you think you could walk to the house with me if I hold your hand? Would you like to try that instead?”

As he speaks, he slips a hand into yours, squeezing tightly. You take a steadying breath, feeling those sickly stresses fade away. “I wanna try, Sir,” you decide, voice only wobbling a little. 

“Are you sure?” You hum in confirmation, and he rewards you with another soft kiss to your forehead. “Then let’s go, princess. Walk this way with me.”

It’s still scary stepping out blindly, but Hoseok reassures you every few moments, and his hand is like an anchor in the black ocean, keeping you steady. His hands are surprisingly slender, but they just fit into yours all the better, warm and strong and tugging you along slowly. 

The first thing you feel once you leave the shed is the spots of rain on your cheeks, air fresh with moisture. Rather than be a negative, however, the lighter downpour soothes you, as well as gives you an incentive to walk faster. 

There’s a slight lip where the patio begins, and once Hoseok guides you to step up on it, the rain ceases to hit you, now a soothing patter against the eaves of the house and the roof over the outdoor dining area. The swish of a glass sliding door, and finally you’re led inside, Hoseok warning you about furniture you’re close to so that you don’t trip. 

Even as it gets easier with time, you still let out a heavy breath of relief once he slides back a chair at the table and helps you sit, unwinding the knot and baring your eyes to the world once more.

You blink, wincing at the bright lights of the kitchen and dining room, feeling Hoseok’s hands on you, warm voice praising you. Strangely, your mind feels more fuzzy now that it’s over, and you tell Hoseok, rubbing your eyes to try and get your vision to focus on his face.

“Probably subspace,” he answers, taking the chair next to you and holding out his hands, palms up. You frown blearily at him and he just laughs, reaching out for your wrists. You look down and let out a noise of surprise. All your struggling has left harsh red lines circling your wrists, and you hiss as Hoseok gently rubs them, pressing in an almost clinical manner like he’s making sure you haven’t hurt yourself. “Typically the trust exercise alone wouldn’t make someone fall that much, but I suspect cumming first had gotten you halfway there.” 

“Okay,” you answer dumbly, making his lips quirk in a smile, letting your wrists down. 

“I’m going to get you a drink of water and something sugary and then we’re going to sit down at the couch and watch a movie together, okay?”

“Okay,” you say again, head feeling heavy. Perhaps you’d lie rather than sit on the couch, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“You did so well for me today, princess,” he praises. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you,” you slur happily, waiting for him to duck into the kitchen and retrieve the supplies.

And so for the rest of the morning, the two of you curl up together on the couch, gradually joined by the others, until all eight of you are watching Paddington 2, Jungkook furiously playing a game on his phone to hide the fact that he’s tearing up at one of the climaxes. 

It’s easy to let time pass like this; long after you feel fully clear and coherent again, you remain safe in Hoseok’s lazy embrace, his head resting against yours and his arm wrapped around your shoulders. Jin and Yoongi bicker about the movie choices as the day goes on, and Taehyung demolishes enough snacks to clear the pantry, but you and Hoseok just relax, enjoying the mutual comfort after your scene.

In fact, you barely notice the afternoon drifting by until Jin stands up and announces you order in some dinner, because it was too late to cook. True to his word, it was almost 8pm, and you didn’t fancy waiting until 10 or later to eat. 

It’s not you, or even Jin or Yoongi, but Jimin that notices Namjoon’s change in demeanour. The eight of you are crowded around the coffee table cross-legged (or, like Taehyung, lying on his stomach) in an uncommon silence founded by the delicious food you’re all stuffing into your mouths. 

Not all, apparently, as Jimin’s voice breaks the silence. “Namjoon-ah, why aren’t you eating?”

The silence changes, then. No longer the contented hush of eating, but the frozen uncertainty of a social faux pas. You’d only known each other five days and already Jimin was using a very familiar term, one that normally you wouldn’t dare use to someone older than you. Namjoon, however, doesn’t seem offended, but rather sends the younger man a grateful look. 

“I’m just not hungry,” he weakly explains, staring mournfully at the steaming dishes in front of him.

“You didn’t eat lunch either,” Jimin points out, making you raise your brows. You’d seen on many occasions that Jimin was an observer - the memory of his hand around your throat still makes you shiver - but to hear it directed at someone else’s wellbeing impressed you. 

Namjoon just shrugs. “I wasn’t hungry then.”

Abandoning his own meal and ignoring the gawking stares from the others at the table, Jimin reaches out with his chopsticks, piling food from all of the dishes into Namjoon’s bowl. “You’re going to sit here and eat with us, Namjoon, and then you’re going to tell whoever you feel comfortable telling why you’re upset.”

Namjoon’s face falls, guilty. His fingers fiddle with the hair tucked behind his ears as he watches his portion grow. “I don’t want to be a burden,” he mutters softly. 

“You aren’t a burden,” Jimin says firmly, sending him a firm look and sliding a set of chopsticks his way. “Just say thank you and eat.”

“Thank you, Jimin,” Namjoon says in a small voice, grabbing a piece of pork cutlet first, biting into the crunchy crumb. 

With a quiet smile, Jimin turns back to his own food, continuing to dig in. As if that’s the signal for the rest of you, the group returns to their bowls, a satisfied silence falling once again. 

After a few mouthfuls, Jin sets his cutlery down, wiping his mouth on a stray napkin. “I think all of us are probably facing some challenges in this situation. No matter who gets voted out and when, we’re the only ones we have right now, so let’s be honest with each other and support each other. We shouldn’t expect Namjoon to be vulnerable with us without being able to do the same. So I’ll start; one thing I’ve been worrying about is that I’ll get my own feelings in the way - whether that’s affection or jealously or competitiveness - and not be able to give you all objective advice. I want you all to see me as a person you can talk to and a shoulder to lean on, so I’m worried if I get too in the game I may no longer be able to do that.” 

Finished, Jin returns calmly to eating, pulling a long trail of cheese ramen into from the bowl into his waiting mouth. To your surprise, it’s Jungkook that speaks up next; the boy having kept quiet this whole time. 

“I’m worried-” he begins, before his nose twitches violently like he’s fighting the urge to tear up. “I’m worried that I’ll miss you guys. If I get voted out or any of you get voted out. Like; once the competition is over we can still hang out at stuff sometimes, and we can still talk, but it won’t be the same.”

You coo as he presses the back of his hand to his nose, blinking hard. Sitting beside him, you leave your own food and wrap your arms around him in a sideways hug, resting your head on his shoulder. He sniffs, but his head tips to the side to lean against yours, and you feel his body relax into the embrace. 

“I worry about that too, Jungkookie,” you admit. “Though my biggest fear is that whoever I vote out each time will hate me for it. I know it’s hard not to take things personal. It’s going to be an impossible decision every week, and I don’t think I could handle it if you got angry and didn’t want to speak to me again.” 

“That won’t happen,” Taehyung answers certainly. “You’re so cool, Y/n, and getting a bunch of hot people to fuck you every week is the dream, but I would never want to be in your decision. We all know it’ll suck more for you than it does for us.”

You smile as the other guys at the table nod in agreement, letting out a low hum as Jungkook’s shoulder jostles beneath your head, the boy reaching forward to grab his bowl. As he lifts a hunk of white rice to his mouth, you poke him in the ribs, opening your own lips. 

Though you can’t see his face, Jungkook scoffs and you can picture the reluctant grin he must sport as he changes angles, lowering it to your mouth instead. You hum happily once the warm rice fills your mouth, but it soon turns into an indignant squeak as Jungkook pulls out a cut of cooked pork with his chopsticks, eating the much better morsel. He chuckles, feeding you the next strip, and the two of you sit contentedly like that, feeding each other as the conversation continues.

It seems like it’s Hoseok’s turn. He has his gaze internal, biting at his lip. “I’m terrified that I’m gonna fuck up and say something wrong or do something wrong and then people at my work will think I’m a bad dom. I swear I’ve read Y/n’s limit sheet a million times but I still messed up today.”

“Hobi,” you sigh, voice soft with empathy, “that wasn’t your fault. And you handled it perfectly. Please don’t feel bad.” 

Though you know the others have questions - Jimin especially is staring hard at Hoseok, not angry but burning with curiosity - nobody asks, simply letting things move on. Yoongi pats Hoseok on the back from beside him and looks towards the center of the room.

“My concern is with the editing team,” Yoongi explains. “We don’t really have any way of knowing how much is going to be shown in the episodes on the website, and I don’t want people to watch this and get altered perceptions of things. I’m sure it can’t be avoided, but I do sometimes wonder how much the audience even sees.”

“I bet if one of us takes our clothes off, they’ll air this part,” Jin offers between mouthfuls of meat. “If you ever want to make sure something gets on the show, just remember it’s a porn website. I bet I could get five minutes of me talking about the economic state of Poland on the show if someone was going down on me at the time.”

Namjoon chokes on a sip of his water and you laugh heartily at the satisfied grin on Jin’s face. Always one to lighten the mood, the eldest seemed relieved at the way Namjoon blushes, but still chuckles, looking less anxious. 

“Alright, then,” the virgin announces shyly. “I’ll get it off my chest. I’ve wanted to make my move this whole week but I keep chickening out. I’m worried that I’ll get to Sunday and not have done anything.” 

You straighten up off of Jungkook. “That’s easy, Namjoonie. I’ll just make a move for you. After dinner, let’s go to your room.”

He chuckles nervously, but the whole room burst into a joyous cheer when he nods at you. 

“Namjoonie, you casanova!” Hoseok jokes, but you can see how his eyes glimmer with pride, all the guys genuinely happy for him.

Namjoon senses it too, and some of his nerves seem to dissipate. He laughs, rocking his fist like a small punch of victory, and sends you a grateful smile. “Anyway,” he says once the celebration calms down, “we still have Taehyungie and Jimin to hear from.” 

“I’ll go first,” Taehyung insists, jumping up from his spot lying on the floor to sit instead, placing his hands palms-down on the table like he’s divulging state secrets. His eyes narrow, his voice lowers. “My deepest, darkest fear is that either I or Jimin-hyung will get voted out before I get the chance to give him a massage.”

Jimin rolls his eyes as everyone oohs at the confession, but he can’t hide the upwards twitch of his lips. “Go on, then,” he allows, cheeks plumped as they fight to hold back his grin. “I need to be loosened up to admit my feelings anyway.” 

Taehyung hoots, springing up and stepping around limbs and bodies until he’s sitting on the couch behind Jimin, legs on either side of the older man’s body. “You’ll have to take off your sweater,” Taehyung announces, fingering the cream-coloured fabric around his shoulders, “it’s too thick.”

Once again Jimin surprises you by actually removing his sweater, delicately slipping the ends of the sleeves over his wrists before lifting it up. He’s not shirtless - underneath the sweater is a thin cotton tank, tucked into his white jeans - but it’s the most skin you’ve seen on him, and you gape at his bare arms, lithe and pale. 

The atmosphere in the room has changed very suddenly, everyone’s eyes on the pair as Taehyung rubs his palms together, warming them before laying them over Jimin’s shoulders with an excited grin. Jimin sighs almost inaudibly, lips parting as Taehyung begins to work his magic. 

“Tell us then, hyung,” the masseuse requests, “what’s eating Park Jimin?”

Jimin’s lids flutter, the tension returning to his face with a frown. “That none of you would like me. That I’d get voted off just to make things less awkward for the rest of you.” 

Taehyung’s hands freeze, his face falling. “We love having you here, hyung,” he insists lowly. “You’re a tough egg to crack, but I bet you’re a softie deep down. We’ll get there.” 

“Thank you,” Jimin replies shortly, feeling considerably uncomfortable with the eyes on him for once. “I do hope that wasn’t the end of the massage, Tae, you barely sat down.” His tone is flat, but he lifts his head up to send the younger boy a sidelong grin. 

Taehyung winks back at him, gently turning Jimin’s head back to face the front. “Of course, not, that was just the warm-up. You’ll be so relaxed when I’m done, you won’t be able to walk up to your room.”  

Jimin lets out a little laugh as Taehyung begins pressing his fingers in more deeply, the flesh rippling beneath his touch. The masseuse, however, glances up to the rest of you, jerking his chin away like he’s asking you all to leave. Privacy, he mouths, and you fight the urge to nod in understanding.

Jimin probably wouldn’t let himself relax like that if all of you were just sitting there staring at him; you can see the way he nibbles lightly on his bottom lip that he feels out of his comfort zone. 

Jin takes the first iniative, letting out a satisfied sigh and standing up. “I’m full,” he announces, “who’s gonna come help me do the dishes?”

And like that, you all clear out and leave Taehyung and Jimin behind, Jimin’s shoulders dropping in relief when he thinks nobody can see. Instead of helping clear up, Jin tells you to take Namjoon upstairs, and before you can really comprehend it, the two of you are sitting on the end of his bed in his room, kicking your legs out awkwardly. 

“Well,” you say after a moment, Namjoon jumping slightly like he hadn’t expected you to speak, “how would you like to do this, Namjoonie? Lying down, sitting up, standing?”

He swallows, fiddling with the ends of his hair. “I think sitting,” he answers. “Could we, um, do it under the covers?”

“The blowjob?” you ask in surprise, and Namjoon nods, cheeks bright red.

“Nobody’s seen me naked before, and it doesn’t matter if I get disqualified for not showing everything because I’m going to get the penalty anyway for not doing it outside.” 

“That’s fine,” you coo, “whatever makes you comfortable. How about I turn away while you get undressed?” 

He nods, and you face the wall, listening to the sound of him hastily undressing, like he was worried you’d get impatient and turn around. 

“You do realise I’m going to see you naked anyway?” you call out. “I can’t suck your dick with my eyes shut. Well-” Your voice lifts up as you consider it. “I suppose I could.” 

Namjoon laughs, and you let yourself smile proudly at the sound. “You can turn around now,” he instructs, and you do, smile widening at the way he sits up in bed, pulling the covers up over his chest cutely. 

“Namjoonie,” you sigh, stepping over to perch on the side of the bed, “I don’t want to push you if you aren’t ready. Are you sure about this? I don’t mind waiting.”

He mulls it over for a moment, chin pressing out as he tenses his jaw. “I think I’ll be fine once we get into it, you know? I’m ready.”

“Then let’s get into it,” you announce, fishing out your phone. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Namjoon’s shoulders deflate. “What are you doing?”

You smile softly, selecting a romantic playlist to set the tone a little; a slow, soothing guitar and husky male vocals emanating from your phone. “Setting the mood,” you answer, placing it on his nightstand and turning to him. “You’ve kissed before, yeah?”

Namjoon nods, his eyes widening once you stand up, shimmying out of your clothes. “I- y- mhm. Oh, god.”

“What?” you ask innocently, like you didn’t just get naked in front of him. This whole ‘being filmed 24/7’ thing had done wonders for your body confidence, and so you boldly straddle him, the duvet being the only thing that separates you. “We’ll just start with something you know, then.”

He makes a little muffled squeak of surprise when you press your mouth to his, but it shocks you just how quickly he seems to calm down and kiss you back. Perhaps he was a natural, or he had more experience than he’d let on, but in  few short moments he begins to take control of it, deepening it and making your mind hazy with slips of his tongue. 

“Wow,” you gasp out between kisses, “how did you learn to - mmph! - kiss like this?”

“Sorry,” he replies, voice already husky with arousal, “I’m excited.”

“Good,” you chime with a light giggle, “are you excited all over?”

“N- Yes,” Namjoon admits, stricken.

“So soon?” you question teasingly.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, pulling away and clenching his eyes shut like it pains him. “You’re really pretty.”

To hide your blush, you slide a hand down his chest and stomach. “Do you want me to touch you now?”

He nods quickly, jerky motions as his hands fist at his sides. “Shit, can you- This duvet was a bad idea, I shouldn’t have-”

“Hey,” you interrupt softly, standing up off him. He makes a low noise of loss and opens his eyes, widening when he’s visually reminded of just how naked you are. “We can take the duvet off, don’t worry. It’s easier this way, too.”

Once he nods his consent, you flip the covers back, revealing his naked body.

Your mouth drops open. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

Namjoon frowns, brows knitting together. “That’s not a good reaction,” he says unsurely, hands tucking over his hardness. He’s huge - big enough to rival Seokjin’s - and he’s practically leaking precum like a faucet, his tip looking so red it must be painful. 

“Oh, I can assure you it most definitely is,” you gush. “God, I’m so lucky. How did I get this lucky?” you ask yourself in wonder, stradding him again. This time, you sit lower so that you can bend over and take him in your hand, marvelling at the weight of it. 

With that simple touch, Namjoon’s head falls back and knocks loudly on the headboard, making him hiss. “Y/n, if you don’t put your mouth on me now, I swear...”

Your eyes widen, mouth in question falling open in shock. “So Namjoon’s a baby dom, hm?”

He lifts his head off the wall, staring at you like he can’t believe the words that came from his own lips. “Sorry, was that rude? I’m going crazy, I want you so bad.” 

“Don’t apologise,” you croon, running a single nail lightly up his side, “I like it. I’m going to suck you off now, okay? Tell me what feels good.”

He nods, a small amount of his prior nerves returning, but before they can take over, you dip your head, wrapping your lips around his tip and simply sucking off the precum that pools there. 

“Fuck! God, oh my god,” Namjoon all-but shouts, and you can’t help but chuckle around him. “Don’t laugh,” he chastises, a hand winding its way in your hair to pull it back from your face. 

You glance up at him, lips still on him, and slowly sink down, letting his hardness fill your mouth all the way to the back. He’s barely halfway in, but when you flick your tongue against one of the veins on his underside, it looks like he’s reached nirvana. You pull up, licking your lips, and use your hand to spread the wetness around his length. “Good?”

“Good, just keep - fuck - keep going.” You grin when his lips press together and he visibly forces himself from saying please, now that you’ve said you liked his dominant streak. 

Always one to please, you drop your mouth onto him again, this time building up into a bobbing rhythm, a salty tang hitting your tongue as sweat and precum mingle. As you jerk off what can’t fit in your mouth, Namjoon curses lowly and his hips rise off the bed, pushing himself deeper so that his tip begins to breach your throat. You gag in shock, but he just groans louder at the obscene noise. 

Expecting him to do it again, you try and relax your throat, but instead you feel tugging on your scalp as he pulls you up by your hair. He’s still slow enough to be painless, but he seems more comfortable taking some control and it makes you grin when you get pulled up off him, sucking air into your lungs. 

“I want to try something,” Namjoon admits with wide, lust-ridden eyes. “I won’t push if you don’t want to.” He swallows, fingers tightening in your hair. “Can I fuck your face?”

Your mouth drops open even more, but your grin only broadens. “Fuck, yes,” you enthuse. “Is like this okay, or do you wanna change positions?”

“Like this,” he says, and his other arm moves down so that he can hold your head with both hands, fingers brushing back the hair that’s fallen in your face. “Just hit me if it’s too much?”

Your heart warms at the thought of him worrying about your safety, and you nod, taking the initiative to lean down, opening your mouth to rest his tip on your tongue, glancing up at him.

“Okay,” he breathes, and begins. 

Rather than fucking up into you, he first starts by guiding you up and down on his cock with his grip on your head, each time a little lower, a little deeper down the back of your throat like he’s readying you. After only a few pulls up and down, his head tips back again, smacking noisily against the headboard as he speeds up, eyes shutting in pleasure. 

It’s only once his eyes have closed that his hips begin to thrust up too. Like he’s letting himself get lost in the pleasure and just feel. You get lost in it, too. It’s easy to go passive like a doll, just focusing on the way he fills your throat. The way he hisses when you gag, and moans when you swirl your tongue in time with his thrusts. 

Your eyes tear up with the intensity of it, breathing through your nose and trying not to cough on him, but you’re in heaven, a hand slipping down between your legs to give yourself some much-needed friction.

It’s once you start touching yourself that everything suddenly happens much faster. The rush of pleasure makes you moan around him, which makes him open his eyes blearily to look down at you, slowling his thrusts when he sees your hand between your legs. Once he realises what you’re doing, he curses again, and his hips pick up their speed, surpassing it until you’re gagging on every thrust, your jaw aching and tears streaming, but still you rock against your hand and moan onto him, caught in the pleasure of feeling, watching, and hearing him fall apart as you fall apart yourself. 

As you grow close, a hair’s breadth away from orgasm, you reach your free hand between his legs and cup his balls, softly rolling them in your grasp. 

Namjoon shouts as he reaches his orgasm, and suddenly he’s pressing you still against him, cumming down your throat with a stream of intense groans, thighs shaking. 

You can’t catch your breath; his cock triggering your gag reflex but staying deep inside you, and it’s that desperation, that lack of control that brings you over the edge yourself, soaking your hand and the sheets below it with the force of your orgasm. He lifts you up as you’re riding your high, spent himself, but the sudden rush of oxygen to your lungs only heightens your pleasure, and you collapse, face pressed against his stomach as you cum and suck in air and cum some more.

Your own legs are shaking by the time you finish, core throbbing with aftershocks, and it takes all of your energy to push yourself up beside him so that you can lie against his bare chest again. 

The room is filled with nothing but panting for a few moments, your fingers lazily tracing patterns on his chest as his arm wraps around you, holding you tight. 

Namjoon is the first to speak, his voice low even in the silence of his bedroom. “Will you stay?”

You swallow back the hoarseness in your throat, using your foot to hook the duvet back up and over your lower halves, snuggling closer to him. “I’ll stay.”

TAGLIST

due to issues tagging the main post, tags will be in the comments.

[gayhuckleberryinatrenchcoat]

You are my home💚💙

Happy Valentine’s Destiel Wedding Day everyone!

Part 2 of my Destiel wedding series.

Click here for the masterpost.

Thanks @bonchickabelle for your support

~2,8k words

“Are you nervous?” Sam teased Dean, who stood in front of the mirror, tugging his tie straight. He thought about it for a moment “Excited? Sure, can’t wait to see Cas again after you forced us to spend last night apart for some stupid tradition. Nervous? No. It’s Cas I’m marrying.” Sam smiled knowingly, already half out the door. “I’m very happy for you two!” Alone again, Dean’s eyes drifted back to the mirror and he placed his hand on his shoulder, right over Cas’ handprint. He meant what he had said to Sam. It had been the first night they had been apart since he got Cas back and he barely slept. He had just felt wrong without hearing Cas’ gentle breaths, without being able to wrap his arms around the former angel and without feeling the weight of Cas’ head on his chest. But was he nervous? Not at all. He was almost surprised at how calm he felt. He’d never been this sure about anything in his life. After today, he would never have to spend another night without Cas.

Everything was perfect. Everyone they knew had insisted on helping with the wedding in one way or another. Sam wanted to officiate them, he got his license as soon as he heard the happy news. Eileen had taken the grooms separately to shop for wedding suits, Jack had promised them a warm, sunny day and handmade the invitations with Claire. Jody and Donna had baked their wedding cake, Ellen and Jo contributed a dozen homemade pies, Bobby took care of the bar and the catering. Garth and Bess promised to capture the whole day on their cameras. Gabe offered to be their DJ and Ash took care of all the technical stuff. Rowena had promised them truly magical fireworks at night, while Crowley and Benny were in charge of the security, although that shouldn’t be necessary ever since Jack became god.

Charlie and Dorothy had not only offered their vast, beautiful property as their wedding venue, they had also taken care of the decorations. The ceremony was set to take place on the Southern side of their house. An aisle led through rows of white chairs up to a little lake in front of which they had placed a rectangular wooden arc, decorated with greenery and big white flowers that stood out brightly against the blue water in the background. The Western side of the house was already equipped with a big dance floor around which tables, a big buffet and a bar had been set up. To top it all off, Charly and Dorothy had hanged fairy lights in every single tree on their property, which would create a magical atmosphere at night.

Lost in thoughts, Dean adjusted the flower on his lapel and smiled at the mirror. He never thought that he – Dean fucking Winchester – would ever get married. And yet here he was. His phone buzzed and his smile became even wider as he saw who texted him.

[Cas 10:34] Dean?

[Dean 10:35] What’s up? Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet now😉

[Cas 10:37] No, my feet are perfectly fine, why would they be cold?

Dean rolled his eyes, amused at his fiancé’s confusion.

[Dean 10:37] Not literally, that’s an expression for someone who has second thoughts on their wedding day. What’s going on?

[Cas 10:38] Oh. I see. I’m nervous that I might act weird because I don’t know all wedding customs. So I wanted to ask if you could maybe help me out when I’m about to make a fool out of myself.

[Dean 10:39] Sure thing, sunshine, but don’t worry about acting right, it’s your wedding day, all you have to do is enjoy it. And everybody here knows you’re a little weird😉

Without a knock, Charlie barged in. “What’s up bitch, you ready? Cause your fiancé is and he’s smokin’ hot.” She winked as she noticed Dean’s blushing cheeks. “Yeah, I’m ready. Where’s Bobby?” “Already waiting downstairs for you. I have to go, see you in a few”.  As quick as she had come, she disappeared again. Dean took another glance at the mirror to make sure everything was perfect before he left the room.

Downstairs Bobby and Ellen were laughing over a glass of scotch. When Bobby noticed Dean, he smiled and reached up to adjust his baseball cap, scoffing when he realized that he didn’t wear one today. “Lookin’ good” he grumbled. Ellen gave Bobby a quick peck on his cheek and winked at Dean as she went to take a seat. “I’m glad ya two idjits finally got the sticks out of your asses. Took ya long enough.” Dean chuckled nervously, his cheeks turning red again. “Thanks Bobby. Truth is I still don’t know how I got this lucky.” “Well, ya really deserve this, ya know? You’re a good man. He’s lucky to be with you. And I like him. Never seen you this happy.” After a pause he added “I’m very proud of you son.” Fumbling with the empty glass Ellen had left behind on the table in front of him, Dean replied “Bobby... Thank you. You’ve always been a father for me, unlike John, who... Anyways, thank you. For everything.” Dean swallowed, unable to put his love and gratitude for this man into words, but as he looked up at Bobby’s face, he caught him wiping over suspiciously wet eyes. “Idjit” he grunted, pulling Dean into a bone crushing hug. He nodded at the clock. “Ya ready? We gotta go.” “Ready” Dean replied, and he meant it. He was more than ready for this.

Or maybe he wasn’t. He was more than ready to marry Cas, but he wasn’t prepared for the sight of all his loved ones in one place, alive – thanks to Jack – gathered to celebrate with him. He always thought the only occasion where they’d all come together would be for his funeral, and he didn’t even expect that since most of them had been dead until a few months ago. Grateful and touched to see how many people where there because they loved him and Cas, Dean fought back some tears. While Garth’s kids waddled down the aisle, scattering white rose petals, Bobby squeezed Dean’s arm, as if he could sense all those thoughts whirling in his head. Dean nodded, linked their arms and let Bobby lead him down the aisle where Sammy already waited with a big grin and an even bigger stack of notes for his speech.

Back in the house, Charly gave Cas an encouraging smile and handed him a gorgeous bouquet of white and yellow flowers. “Thank you for leading me down the aisle, I was made aware that that would usually be the responsibility of one’s father...” “There’s nothing usual about this wedding..” Charly teased him. “Besides, you’ve been my bestie ever since we first met, of course I’m gonna walk you down the aisle!” She linked their arms. “Ready?” Cas nodded. “Ready...” Leaning in, he added with a proud smirk “...bestie”. The doors swung open and they stepped outside.

All heads turned around to see Cas, but he didn’t even notice. He was completely captivated by the sight of his fiancé, who let out a little gasp before breaking into a wide smile. His eyes made those cute crinkles that Cas loved so much and as he came closer, he could see a tear roll over Dean’s check. Usually, although Dean had become way more relaxed over the last months, Cas could always sense a lingering alertness in him. But now... he seemed completely at peace. Cas quickly blinked away some tears. He didn’t want anything to cloud his vision, he needed to preserve this image in his mind. His navy-blue suit combined with a simple black tie and a white flower on the lapel suited Dean incredibly well. He was beautiful and Cas’ heart skipped a beat at the thought that it was him who caused the pure adoration and happiness on Dean’s face.

Charlie led Cas towards him with excruciatingly slow steps. Dean could barely restrain himself from running towards them. Cas was indeed smoking hot in his black suit, the baby blue tie perfectly matching the color of his big, loving eyes. Their eyes locked and Cas smiled at him with his adorable alien head tilt. Dean took a deep breath in, smiling at his fiancé, whose eyes glistened suspiciously. Cas seemed completely awestruck, and Dean felt a little lightheaded like he always did when Cas looked at him like that... like he meant the world to him.

Charly placed Cas’ hand in Dean’s. “Hey handsome! Missed me last night?” Dean whispered with a wink. “Hello Dean. I missed you very much indeed”. Murmuring “Me too”, Dean softly leaned his forehead against Cas’. The grooms stood there for a moment with closed eyes and fond smiles on their faces, the longing for each other almost unbearable. Cas finally pulled away and stated softly: “You are incredibly beautiful”. He turned towards Sam. Dean blushed at the seriousness in Cas’ voice and slowly turned to face his brother as well, not without glancing at Cas’ concentrated face once more and shooting him a loving smile from the side. While Sam held his unsurprisingly deep and thoughtful speech, Cas slipped his hand into Dean’s, who squeezed it lightly in response.

When it was time to say their vows, Dean took Cas’ hands in his and started shakily: “So, uhm, I’d like to start if that’s okay. Cas – you’re my best friend. And you’re the love of my life. I never thought I’d ever say something like that, I didn’t exactly think love was in the cards for me. I never let anyone close. But you...” His furrowed brows softened, and he broke into a fond smile, adopting Cas’ little head tilt. “You immediately got to me – well, right after I stabbed you... Sorry for that, buddy.” He winked and Cas chuckled softly. Dean continued, his voice overflowing with love: “I love your weird, quirky personality. I love that you’re such an openhearted, adorable little dude and at the same time you’re brave, strong and one hell of a badass. You never stop surprising me. You have the most loving, pure and beautiful soul.” Dean’s voice started to crack. “You know me better than anyone, heck, you probably even know me better than I know myself. You looked into my soul and you love me for exactly who I am, which is the best gift you could have ever given me.” Firmly holding Cas’ gaze, he added seriously: “I promise to always love and support you unconditionally, in our human life together and beyond. I’ve been yours ever since you first laid a hand on me. And I swear I will be yours for all of eternity. I love you Cas, so damn much.”

Cas looked at him completely lovestruck, tears glistening in his eyes. In a low, gravelly voice he declared: “I never truly belonged anywhere. I never... functioned the way I was supposed to. And you made me realize that that’s okay. That freedom and free will were more preferable than being a brainwashed soldier of heaven. You gave me your friendship, you made me part of your family. You taught me to love.” He cupped Dean’s face, gently brushing his thumb over Dean’s freckled cheeks. Squinting his eyes in adoration at the miracle before him, he added: “You are the most perfect, selfless and loving human being I have ever known.” Tears started rolling down Dean’s cheeks, he still had a hard time accepting that someone – especially Cas – would think so highly of him. Receiving this praise in front of such a big audience made him blush. “Dean, you are my home. I love you. Forever.” He pressed a soft kiss on Dean’s forehead and wiped away his tears. Dean almost drowned in his loving eyes, completely overwhelmed with affection.

Claire and Jack came up to give them their rings. Claire handed Cas a ring and whispered: “Congrats Ca... Dad”. Cas froze up for a second, tilting his head, squinting his eyes, trying to understand if she really just meant that or if it had just slipped out on accident. When she gave him a shy confirming smile, he pulled her into a strong hug. Jack handed Dean a ring with a “Hello Dad” and a short hug, before tugging on Claire’s hand to pull her back to their seats. The almost married couple shared a confused look after what just happened, Dean opening his mouth to ask “Did they just call us..?” “I believe they did”, Cas replied happily.

Sam moved on with the ceremony and let them repeat some more promises to each other before posing the final question: “Do you, Castiel, take Dean Winchester as your lawfully wedded husband?” Cas answered earnestly “I do.” Sam turned to Dean to repeat his question: “Do you, Dean Winchester, take Castiel as your lawfully wedded husband?” Dean grinned widely, eyes crinkling around the edges: “Hell yeah, I do!” Sam asked them to exchange their rings to seal their bond and Cas took Dean’s hand gently in his. He slipped the ring on slowly, looking deeply into Dean’s beaming green eyes. Dean then slipped a ring onto Cas’ finger, his fingertips lingering longer than necessary. Sam finally pronounced them “...husband and husband. You may now kiss your groom!” Under the roaring cheers of their loved ones, Dean cupped Cas’ face while his husband pulled him close, arms wrapped around his waist. Their lips found each other easily, all of their adoration blooming into a chaste, soft kiss. Cas spontaneously bent Dean backwards, who gasped into his mouth in surprise, before letting himself fall into the strong embrace. Their kiss deepened, both too far gone to hear the excited cheers and whistles around them. It took them a while to gather the strength to break apart, foreheads resting against each other for one more moment before turning to the cheering crowd. Dean linked their hands and raised them up, as Sam exclaimed loudly: “I present to you Mr. and Mr. Winchester!”

The party afterwards was one for the books. Everyone had a blast and surprisingly enough, everyone got along perfectly, which wasn’t exactly a given on a party were hunters and supernatural beings came together. Donna’s and Jody’s wedding cake was mind-blowingly delicious. It was a white cake with three tiers and a figurine of the happy couple on top, wearing their trademark flannel and trenchcoat. When they cut the cake open, it revealed a colorful surprise. The top tier was colored like the bisexual pride flag. The second tier was chocolate-brown and the bottom tier looked like a rainbow flag. Dean insisted on feeding Cas with some cake and “accidentally” smeared frosting on Cas’ face. After he had kissed it away shamelessly, which earned them loud cheers and whistles from their guests, Dean pulled his husband onto the dance floor for their first dance.

They both didn’t exactly know how to dance, but it didn’t matter. They were just happy to feel the comforting warmth of their bodies against each other and melted into a tight embrace. As they were swaying gently, eyes closed and faces buried in each other’s necks, they didn’t realize that the first song had long blended into the next one. After a couple of songs, Dean opened his eyes for a moment, watching all the people he loved enjoy themselves. Jody and Donna slow-danced next to them and Eileen tried to teach Sam how to dance, hoping not to get her toes crushed. The brothers exchanged a big smile that said: “We’re so damn lucky”. Rowena stood at the DJ-table with Gabe, brushing a hand over his arm and whispering something in his ear. Crowley and Benny seemed to hit it off at the bar and Claire and Jack tried to teach Sonny some “tictoc-dance”, whatever that was, while Miracle excitedly jumped around their feet. Dean closed his eyes again and sank even deeper into the feeling of Cas’ arms wrapped around him.

The party carried on deep into the night, roaring rock classics long having replaced the quiet couple-dance music, everyone partying on the dance floor or sharing stories and laughs at the bar. As the newlyweds sat down to chat with Sam and Eileen over some drinks, Cas looked at his husband lovingly. He was overjoyed to see Dean beaming happily from being among all the people he loved, no danger in sight. As Dean caught Cas starring, he gave him a gentle peck and got up. He linked their hands as they strolled towards the lake, the party sounds fading into low background noises. They leaned up against each other, the reflections of stars and fairy lights glistening on the water as they held each other close in the cold night air. Dean nuzzled his nose into Cas’ hair and pressed a gentle kiss on his head. Cas turned to see Dean’s glowing eyes and pulled him into a long, achingly tender kiss. They were home.

[daxieoclock]

Birds and Flowers: Hunters Highlights

Just closed out another fucking MINDBLOWING session with some scenes I’ve been scheming in the background for literal months. These in-between times are going absolutely unreal and I NEED to share it with you all djfgbjdfg.

I’m including a bit from last session as well, since it’s also really good and helps set the scene.

Everyone Else (DaxieVane) A sizable white boat bobbing in the slight surf. Purple text on the side proclaims it "The Partridge."

The Partridge has an outside deck on the bow with some seats, and an inside room where the wheel is, lined with comfy couches. Before you cast off, Sakio addresses you all. "Hunters. You've done some truly amazing work. This isn't much of a celebration, but I hope you take some time to relax, and enjoy yourselves." She beams at you all. "I'm deeply proud of you for the steps you've taken within both Fractals and your own lives. I hope you can all find some pride in those accomplishments as well."

And the boat rumbles to life, and pushes out into the open ocean.

Blake Leto (Jane 🐈) Blake slides into the cabin and takes a seat on one of the couches, returning to their book.

Lena Tarr (Dave) Lena is gonna sit down on the same couch as Blake, and let out a weary sigh. "What'chu reading?"

Blake Leto (Jane 🐈) “Ah,” they look up, not having noticed her at first.

“Oh, you know me,” they say with a chuckle. “Just another mystery novel…” They shake their head. “Though this particular series feels like it’s going downhill…” they sound a little sad at that, turning the book over in their hands.

Lena Tarr (Dave) She chuckles. "Honestly, I couldn't tell. I don't get those at all." She nods to the book. "Everything's so. Complicated. But in kinda dumb ways."

Blake Leto (Jane 🐈) And they flash their a smile. “Yes, I suppose I can understand that. Although the world can be kind of like that too, can’t it?” And they give a little chuckle.

Lena Tarr (Dave) Lena grins. "Oh, you know it. Like. The thing with those three fucks? Dumb as all shit." She shrugs. "You can't escape it though. You can't just say that it's dumb and make them leave. You gotta." She twirls the cane in her hands. "Do something."

Blake Leto (Jane 🐈) They give her an uncertain look and then turn back to their book, idly flipping the pages in their hands. “Unfortunate as it is, I have to agree. Inaction is rarely the solution to anything. In fact, passivity is probably one of the traits that bothers me the most…” They grin a little as they say that.

Lena Tarr (Dave) "Hm." She keeps twirling her cane. "I don't know if one of those bastards came to you too, or someone else reached out to you, but I guess you should know. The dude I punched came to the campus. Made sure I knew the next time I get in his way it'll be bad." She grins at the floor. "Damned if you do, damned if you don't."

Blake Leto (Jane 🐈) They look back up, a little surprised. “Ah.” And they rest the book in their lap, expression becoming more serious, crossing their arms over their chest. “I see… in that case, we should be even more careful. And we ought to be proactive…” they adjust their glasses. “We don’t want to instigate conflict, but we also can’t let them step on us… you’re right that it’s a tricky situation.” They whip out their phone, typing something. “I’d prefer not to get you alone with him if we can help it. Chances are, if you’re in a group, he’ll back down. And if he doesn’t…” they shrug, their expression serious. “We can take him.”

Lena Tarr (Dave) She throws the cane from one hand to the other. "We shouldn't have to though. Heh." She bends over slightly and puts her weight on the cane. "Not like that changes anything." She thinks for a second. "I'm. Sorry. For making it worse." She snorts. "Probably won't be the last time."

Blake Leto (Jane 🐈) They chuckle a little. “Did you come here with the intention to bum me out…?” They smile, eyes on their feet, looking a little distant. “I’m not the type to happily let other people get stepped on if it makes my own life easier,” and they pause, catching the irony in that with a little smile. “Regardless of what you may have heard about me.” They shrug. “Whatever you may do, you’re a part of this team. And that means we will back up whatever actions you take. If you’ve picked this fight, then we’ll finish it. Simple as that.” And they give you a cheery little smile, one crafted for the cameras, though somehow it feels a little more genuine here, just a bit.

Lena Tarr (Dave) Lena looks at them for a moment, before leaning back on the couch, just a bit more relaxed. "You're really something, Leto. Really something." And she's smiling too.

**********

Sammy Cabra (Nyanko) I don't know boats very well, but Sammy is probably laying down on the deck of the boat somewhere-- not on a chair, like...on the floor-- if you want to go say hewwo--

Ilse Belanger (Ralu) Ilse follows Sammy onto the outer deck, happy to be in the sun and to feel the breeze.  They enjoy the sensation for a moment, then approach Sammy. “Mind if I join you?”

Sammy Cabra (Nyanko) Sammy is already flat on the ground, staring straight into the sun. They look at Ilse, "Please do!" they can't hide the excitement in their voice.

Ilse Belanger (Ralu) “Thank you” Ilse smiles widely and sits down, then fishes out of their bag and holds a pair of sunglasses over Sammy’s head. “Not to disturb your view, but I have them spare. Would you like them?”

Sammy Cabra (Nyanko) Sammy is startled by the sudden darkness the sunglasses have caused, but they quickly grab a hold of them. "F-For me? You're giving these to me?" Sammy sits up and scans the boat and sky, holding the shades up in front of them instead of putting them on. "I can really have these? You're giving me magic glasses?" Sammy looks at Ilse to confirm if they're serious or not.

Ilse Belanger (Ralu) Ilse is a bit taken aback by that strong reaction, and they rub the back of their neck before answering. “Not magic, I’m sorry, but yes. You can have them. Only if you want them, of course.”

Sammy Cabra (Nyanko) Sammy pauses for a long time, looking at you through the not-so-magic shades. There's a brief moment when you can see a tear start to roll down Sammy's face, but they quickly turn the other way. "I don't mind if they're not magic...you gave them to me, so I'm going to keep them forever..." Sammy wipes their eyes with their sleeves before turning back to Ilse. "I love them! Thank you!" Sammy gasps like they just had the BEST idea in the world. They grab their bag, that was always next to them and I totally didn't forget that they had this-- and start digging through it. After a bit, they pull out a small, clay, goat figurine. "Here! This will be my magic gift to you, for giving me magic glass!" They placed the goat figurine on your head instead of in your hands. "This is the lucky goat! They're super lucky and if you take them to the park on Wednesdays, the ice cream man will appear!" Sammy looks serious, so you can't tell if they're joking around or not.

Ilse Belanger (Ralu) Ilse stares at Sammy, first wondering if they did something wrong, then actively worried. They lift their hand, unsure what to do, before Sammy starts to speak and they leave the hand simply hanging, eyes following every of Sammy’s movements. Then, a goat on their head. Very carefully and still they reach for it, slowly lower it toward the gaze. “It’s beautiful. Thank you. I will be at the park next Wednesday. Will take it with me.” They look just as serious as Sammy.

**********

Everyone Else (DaxieVane) sakio's up on the outer deck, watching the waves

she's got a wide-brimmed yellow hat on

Camellia Pavel (Rhela) Camellia has been mostly quiet, bundled up and clearly not a fan of the cold. They sluggishly get up and trot over to sit by Sakio. "You seem awfully sunny despite being out in this freezing wet crap," they say good naturedly, if a bit grumpy.

Everyone Else (DaxieVane) She just shrugs, one hand on her hat, sending a smile at you. "I'm with good company," she says, raising her voice a little to be heard over the waves, but maintaining a soft tone. "Besides that, the semester's over. No more grading until March." She laughs. "Plenty more time to prioritize you all, before Spring semester begins. I don't have to feel guilty about giving you special treatment."

Camellia Pavel (Rhela) "I guess we HAVE kinda gotten the 'teacher's pet' status, for lack of better words. Maybe even exceeded," they smirked.

"I certainly suppose a break from your main job is welcome."

Everyone Else (DaxieVane) "Hm," Sakio says, and you can barely hear her. She takes a moment to just watch the waves. "Teaching is my passion. I wouldn't have taken the job if it hadn't been. Being a dean though...I can't say it's brought me a surplus of joy. It's a dirty job, I suppose, but someone has to do it. Might as well be me." She brushes a strand of hair behind one ear. "How are you, by the way?"

Camellia Pavel (Rhela) They bark a soft laugh. "True, true." A sudden gust of chilly wind rushed across the boat, making Camellia momentarily hunker further into their coat. "Ah, well enough. With some recent financial assets I've lived a bit more comfortably these past weeks. And I've been making more crafts as of late. It's eased my mind quite a deal."

Everyone Else (DaxieVane) "That's good," she says, nodding slightly. "Very good." A deep breath in, and out. "I'm a little curious, if you don't mind me asking. I've been thinking back to when we first met, and I can't seem to wrap my head around..." Sakio purses her lips. "On second thought, I don't believe I need to know. Perhaps it would simply be best for me to trust you, all of you, and leave well enough alone."

Camellia Pavel (Rhela) Camellia's eyes narrow momentarily, unsure and curious where Sakio's train of thought was heading. They huff a short chuckle as their gaze softens and diverts to the water below. "Well... I'll trust your trust."

**********

Everyone Else (DaxieVane) You all take a nice long boat ride, slowing a few times to admire distant sea lions on the shore or when Valerie thinks she spots a whale (she says it three separate times and at no point do you ever see a whale). After a few long hours, when the sun is starting to get a little lower in the sky, the Partridge is going to pull back into the Long View dock.

Lena Tarr (Dave) lena absolutely fell asleep

Everyone Else (DaxieVane) lena and camellia nap buddies? djhfbgjh

Lena Tarr (Dave) god knows we are sleeping!!!

in a warm little pile

Sammy Cabra (Nyanko) Sammy is also napping, but you can't tell because they're wearing their new cool shades in the same "I am looking directly at the sun" position--

*****

Everyone Else (DaxieVane) Camellia. It's dark. The lights that normally light the campus are all off. And you're running after someone. They're faster than you, which shouldn't be right, because you and them should always be at the same pace, you've always been in lock step but now they're ten paces ahead of you. It's like a game, except that you can't afford to lose, and they won't slow down. Frey won't wait for you.

Camellia Pavel (Rhela) They're panting, air entering their lungs like cold briars constricting in their chest as fire sears in their legs. Old shoes frantically hit the pavement and the noise echoes among the darkened campus as they run and run, but can't seem to catch up. "Frey, stop -- just stop! Please slow down, I can't reach you!"

Everyone Else (DaxieVane) And they turn midstep, and laugh. "Come on flower child," they say, and their voice is familiar, and yet not quite the way it should be. Like two tones woven together. "You know you're too high up by now. You're too close." And they hop over a small ledge.

When you follow, when you hop over that ledge too, your feet catch and you stumble and the campus is gone. And so is Frey. And you can see the world, from up here. Up on the edge of some shiny purple surface, staring down at the curvature of a violet Earth, neuron stars shifting across its infinite expanse.

"Too close," Frey's voice echoes. "Too close. Too close."

Camellia Pavel (Rhela) Camellia's breath comes in short panicked bursts as their head jerks back and forth, surveying their surroundings. Their face is disgusting, gummy with sweat, tears, and flecks of drool that glisten in the low purple glow. "I--," they gasp out. "What...?"

"I don't understand,"

Everyone Else (DaxieVane) You're standing on the edge of an enormous flower, on one of the petals, its stem stretching down and down and down until it bleeds into the world, bursts through its skin and spreads roots. Or, maybe it's the other way around.

Too close.

And a petal snaps off. Not the one you're on, but it drifts down, falling and falling.

Too far.

A petal snaps off.

Too close.

A petal snaps off.

Too far.

A petal snaps off.

Too close.

And you snap off. And plummet towards the world at a thousand miles an hour, like a shooting star.

And then you wake up. It's morning. You're covered in sweat, back in your apartment.

Camellia Pavel (Rhela) Camellia chokes out a gasp as they awaken, panting as they stared glass-eyed at the ceiling. "A nightmare...? they wonder. They breathe shakily and turn on their side, curling in on themself. "Or something more? I don't... I don't know anymore..." Sheets are pulled up over their head as they hide away from the lingering threads of the dream, as if still a child hiding away from the monsters they imagined dancing in the shadows of their closet.

**********

Ilse Belanger (Ralu) If possible, Ilse would like to go to the park in the hope of getting some ice cream. I was also thinking of doing a Twitch scene, but I don’t know if they would invite him along

Blake Leto (Jane 🐈) Ilse just texts twitch like “hey check this shit out I’ve got a magic goat”

Everyone Else (DaxieVane) He's got his hood up, and he looks a little bit like a zombie, kinda dazed, but he seems happy enough to join.

"So, uh," he mumbles, "park. There's an ice cream place downtown, you know. I mean, it kinda sucks, but it's there." The ice cream shop in question has like...exclusively artistically ice creams, nonsense hippie flavors that all taste 90% the same.

Ilse Belanger (Ralu) Ilse nods, eyes scanning the surrounding. “It...definitely is, yeah. But we might be lucky and have an ice man arriving here today? Or any ice person?” They twist the little goat in their hands. “I’m sorry if it was all for nothing in the end. If you’ll allow me then, I’ll invite you for a cup at the other place” Suddenly their eyes light up. “Care for a bet?”

Everyone Else (DaxieVane) Twitch raises an eyebrow. "Um, I'm not really...a betting person?" He shrugs. "I guess...uh, sure. Bet on whether ice cream shows up?"

Ilse Belanger (Ralu) “Bet on whether ice cream shows up!” They grin. “Wrong guess pays for the sweets?”

Everyone Else (DaxieVane) "Hm." Twitch takes a look around the empty park, and then down at the goat. "Okay. Uh. Yeah, sure. You're on." No sooner has he said that than you hear a distant jingle that causes Twitch to freeze in place, and you both see an elderly man behind a pushcart stroll into the park. "That...usually doesn't fuck me over that quickly." He gives a skewed little smile. "I'm buying?"

Ilse Belanger (Ralu) Ilse shakes their head in awe when they see the pushcart. “Honestly, I was pretty sure I would be the one paying. So...only if you want to.” They return the smile, a bit shy, then straighten up. “I bet this one’s going to be better than what they have downtown.”

Everyone Else (DaxieVane) "Probably." His smile is a little more honest now. "I think, uh, I'm getting hungry! So let's go!" And he rushes ahead to the cart.

Ilse Belanger (Ralu) Ilse smiles, pets the goat slightly before putting it in the pocket of their pants and rushing after Twitch.

**********

Ilse Belanger (Ralu) What place could be used for proficiency/agility skill points? I’m sorry I’m forgetting all the details

Everyone Else (DaxieVane) proficiency isssss Camellia's favored back alley, i believe

Ilse Belanger (Ralu) Ah, yeah! Thank you! Can I go there and also look for a trinket to possibly gift Puck?

Everyone Else (DaxieVane) hmm

okay i will say "yes and", absolutely djfbgjh but i will let u know that buttering up Puck is only gonna get you so far, because im gating Fool requirements behind plot beats djfbgjh

you don't find much of anything, but then you hear a calm voice over your shoulder. "Yo, you're uhhh, the fuckin, sporty lady and little goat buddy's friend, right?" And Theo crouches down next to you. "Whatcha looking for? Didja drop something?" He immediately begins searching as well.

Ilse Belanger (Ralu) Gghgggh!!!

Lena Tarr (Dave) !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Blake Leto (Jane 🐈) The real treasure was Theo all along

Ilse Belanger (Ralu) “Oh” Ilse’s first instinct is to move a step back or to the side and give Theo space, but then they realize what he’s doing. “Thank you, yeah, I think I am...didn’t drop anything, was just looking. Of I could find something nice or interesting. Something one could give to a friend who likes trinkets and stuff?” They scratch their neck and look up for a moment. “Nothing to worry about, but thank you”

Everyone Else (DaxieVane) "Ohhh," Theo says. And he plops back, reclining on the ground. "Totally getcha. Like, last year I tried to get Bee a seashell, but Long View is like...not a good place for shells. Or water. Or surfing." He lets out a long, melancholy sigh. Then he perks up. "Oh! Like, instead of the shell, I made her some brownies, so maybe..." Theo reaches into his bag and then smacks a plastic-wrapped cookie into your hand. "Here you go, dude. Snack for your pal."

Ilse Belanger (Ralu) Ilse’s eyes wides, and once they realize the cookie is already in their hand, there’s no giving back, the look into Theo’s face, still a bit flabbergasted. “That’s not necessary, but...thank you. Cookies are always a great idea” They smile at him. “Thank you”

**********

Lena Tarr (Dave) ok ok ok. i am thinking.

that i wanna bother someone. so im wondering what masumis doing fdgdfgdf

Everyone Else (DaxieVane) heck yeah djfgbjh

Masumi is still on campus during break. Plus since she's your RA, you have her number.

Lena Tarr (Dave) Lena is gonna camp out in the common area until she sees her fgdfgdf

Everyone Else (DaxieVane) She walks out of her room with a towel around her head, stares at you, walks back into her room and five minutes later comes back out with dry hair and a glare that could cut through concrete. "What?" she says.

Lena Tarr (Dave) She stretches casually, like she wasn't waiting for Masumi, specifically, to show up. "Nothing much. What's up?"

Blake Leto (Jane 🐈) Important question: did Masumi change into her full fuckin suit during that time or is she wearing somethin more casual Bc if she took the time to get the whole suit on that’s so powerful

Everyone Else (DaxieVane) oh djfgbjhdgf she's wearing like...a black skirt and a white button up i think. still formal, but compared to her normal outfit it's very relaxed.

Everyone Else (DaxieVane) Masumi just sort of squints at you, tilting her head slightly. "I'm on break," she says, bluntly. "What do you think?"

Lena Tarr (Dave) Lena sighs. "Fair enough." She leans back, brows furrowing. "I'll be fast. You know Sakio pretty well, right?"

Everyone Else (DaxieVane) "As well as the President of the Student Council can and should know one of her teachers who is also the dean of Humanities," Masumi replies immediately. "I've worked with her enough to know her type. That's all you need to know."

Lena Tarr (Dave) She tilts her head to the side. "And what's that type like?"

Everyone Else (DaxieVane) Masumi sighs, adjusts her hair. "Saint Sakio," she says, her tone quiet and bitter. "The self appointed virtuous paragon, decrier of all hypocrisies but her own, leaping at her own sword just for the chance it might help someone else." She rolls her eyes. "She's an idiot, and she's stubborn, and she thinks she's right."

Lena Tarr (Dave) Lena nods, thinks for a bit. "Do you think that." She clicks her tongue. "Has her stubbornness ever done. More harm than good? In your opinion?"

Everyone Else (DaxieVane) "Unquestionably," she says. "She's a teacher, through and through. More a propensity for talking than listening." A clear sore spot, and Masumi seems to catch herself, her tone evening out. "But that's not to say that she's technically incorrect, all the time. She's talented and experienced and intelligent, and she knows that. Which makes the task of challenging her on those blind spots all the more daunting."

Lena Tarr (Dave) "Fuck if you aren't right." She drags a hand across her face. "Thanks." She leans her head back, staring at the ceiling. "I really. Hate teachers. And directors."

Everyone Else (DaxieVane) "Hm." Masumi brushes a strand of hair behind one ear in almost the same way as you've seen Sakio do, often enough. "I suppose we have that in common." And with that, she heads off.

**********

Everyone Else (DaxieVane) There's a box in your closet. And I think there's been a few days where the thought of opening it has crossed your mind, you've maybe wanted to, but so far every time you have decided to leave it closed.

Today is one of the days when you think about that box.

Sammy Cabra (Nyanko) Sammy opens up their closet on the left side. They've hesitated for long enough. "Okay...Okay..." They slowly drag the box out from the closet, the weight on top stays put. They take a deep breath in. and a deep breath out. "I can't keep hiding from you... I need to know..." They pick up the weight with ease, as if picking up a small rock, and place it back down on the floor. "You can do this..." They close their eyes and...take off the lid.

Everyone Else (DaxieVane) It smells like dust. You can't see anything with your eyes closed. Churro is probably butting his head against your arm and making little mrow noises.

Sammy Cabra (Nyanko) Sammy opens their eyes. Still scared of what awaits them inside. They've thought about this moment forever, what kind of awful message awaits them inside? Maybe it's a note that says "loser" or something...Sammy takes a look inside.

Everyone Else (DaxieVane) The three items on the very top of the small pile are a flower made out of popsicle sticks that you gave to her, a bubble blower that you used to play together with, and a piece of crumpled paper. Upon closer inspection, it's a very messy drawing of your Fractals outfit, with smudged text pointing to different sections of the costume. "Goat tail? Do goats have tails?" and "Very very green" and "Make sure there's room for their horns!" At the very top of the page, it says: "Poncho for Sammy." Underneath those is a photo album.

Sammy Cabra (Nyanko) Sammy carefully and slowly takes out every item one by one. They can't help but feel saddened by the flower on top. The first gift they ever gave her. Why would she leave that? Then the bubble blower and then the paper of their poncho. "I was wondering where you put these...I tried to find them the day I went looking for you but..." They pick up the photo album. They're silent for a long time before opening it up. Pictures of Sammy...Pictures of Churro...Pictures of... "Tango..." Sammy flips through all the pages.

Everyone Else (DaxieVane) There's so many photos there that you recognize. Of you, of her, of the both of you. The farther you go, there's less of you, less of her. More nature, and abstraction, and strangers. And more empty spaces, photos absent from where they should be. Until finally, on the very last page, there's just a single photo - one you don't recognize. A silhouette of a young woman with long hair, blowing a dandelion across a dark sky. There's text underneath: "Daisy" and a little heart drawing.

And underneath the photo album, at the bottom of the box, is a flyer from a big music concert that happened in your sophomore year of high school, with a smudged phone number you can't read and a lipstick mark in the bottom corner.

And beneath that is a very carefully, politely folded piece of paper. "For Sammy" it says.

Sammy Cabra (Nyanko) Sammy is already fighting back tears from the drastic change the album had taken without them. They're less confused and more sad that they barely opened it up now. "Who...?" Sammy looks at the picture of the girl before picking up the little piece of paper. "Ah man...you shouldn't have..." They are very much crying at this point. They unfold the paper, joking, "What wonderful masterpiece have you granted me as a last goodbye?"

Everyone Else (DaxieVane) sammy,

if you are reading this, then i am somewhere very far away now. i dont know how far, and i dont know where i'll end up. im sorry. i don't want to leave, but i know i might have to. you know i'm bad at keeping secrets, and i've been keeping one for a long time. even from you. i'm so sorry, but if i'm gone, then i can't ever come back.

i know it will hurt you, and it breaks my heart. you are my best and most wonderful friend, and i will miss you forever and always. i will miss you more than the sun misses the moon. more than the flower misses the bird. you made me want to love myself, because you loved me.

i know i must have hurt you by leaving. i don't ask you to forgive me, not for that. not for breaking my promise. but if you want me again, even as i can't return, i give you permission: come and find me.

your friend, always,

tangerine

Sammy Cabra (Nyanko) Every word feels like a punch to the heart. I'm sorry? I'll miss you?  Sammy wipes their tears with their sleeve. "What...What? What is this...?" And then the last line, "Come find you..." It takes a minute for that to process, but when  it does, Sammy bolts up straight. "COME FIND YOU!?" It feels like they've been given the key to the universe. That means they're definitely alive and definitely want to see them again...right? This isn't the loser message they were expecting at all, it's so much worse! "W-Where???" Then Sammy turns back to the photo album. "Daisy...girl Daisy....Daisy..." Sammy repeats this, making sure to engrave it into their mind. "I will! I'll do it! I'll find you!" Sammy picks up Churro, "We'll do it!!" And with that, they spend the rest of their night trying to piece everything together...although they're still a little lost.

**********

Sammy 🐐 Excuse me! Everyone! This is kind of an emergency and I'm sorry if this seems really random, but has anyone seen a girl named Daisy? And would anyone like to help me find a girl named Daisy... Or just a Daisy, it might be a flower, I'm not sure!!!!

Blake ✨ Are you alright? What kind of emergency are we talking about? I could certainly ask my contacts to look into this girl if you have a full name or any other details, but you’re saying it may also just… refer to the flower?

Sammy 🐐 Uhm! This is like...life or death to me!

Well maybe not that extreme, but... it's really really super important to me! She has long hair and uhm...she might be into music? I have a paper with some stuff on it I can show you the next time I see you. D:

And her name might be Daisy? that's all I can think of, I'm sorry...

Blake ✨ I… see. So to summarize, you’re searching for this girl, with only an idea of her first name, or what may be a nickname, and a vague understanding of who she is. Is there some connection to someone else? Do you have a photo?

I’d be more than happy to help you solve this little mystery of course, but first and foremost we’ll need intel.

Sammy 🐐 She...does have a connection but that.... doesn't exist right now. Uhm...I do have a photo! So does that mean you'll help me? :)

I'll bring everything to you first thing! thank you so much, Blakey! 🌟

[vennilavee]

The Countdown

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: you and bucky have a small fight before a mission during the holidays and you’re both irked at each other.

Warnings: cursing, alcohol

Word Count: 2791

A/N: inspired by s1e14 of the oc titled ‘the countdown’. i only watched the first season, but i always thought the new year’s kiss moment was beautiful. i listened to dice by finley quaye a lot while writing this (also found this song on the same episode of the oc)

_______________________________________________________________________

“You were supposed to be home for the holidays! And for the new year!” You say, irritation stewing in your belly. You cross your arms and shift your weight to your right side.

“I was home for Christmas! Doesn’t that count for something?” Bucky retorts.

“Neither of us even celebrate Christmas like that…”

“So? I was still here!”

“We were supposed to ring in the new decade together!”

“So what would you have me do? Tell the world to pause just because you want a New Year’s kiss?”

“Well, excuse me for wanting to start the new year and the new decade with my boyfriend! I guess I’m asking for too much from you, huh?”

“I guess you are!”

You roll your eyes so far to the back of your head that you are certain you can see the whites of your skull. You look away from him, so he can’t see the hurt in your chest. Why is he so nonchalant about it? Doesn’t it mean as much to him as it does to you?

Evidently not.

“Whatever. Have fun. Be safe I guess. Don’t get too injured. I won’t help you with anything more than bruised knuckles.”

I love you, you stupid idiot.

Bucky lets out a chuckle despite himself. He’s already dressed in his tactical suit, buckles and velcro done and all. You knew he had to go, but damn, would it kill him to look a little sad about leaving you for over a week and missing New Year's Eve and New Year's Day with you?

You can hear Sam calling for him out in the kitchen of your apartment.

“Well, I guess you’ve gotta go,” You shrug, “Have fun on your trip. You guys are going to Bali, right?”

“Don’t be like that,” Bucky murmurs, a faint cloud forming in his normally clear eyes.

“Enjoy your beers and your Mai-Tais, Samuel,” You call out, narrowing your eyes at Bucky.

“Leave me outta it, baby girl,” Sam replies.

You hand Bucky his black duffel, trying to thrust it at him and failing because of how heavy it was. He quirks his lips in amusement but falters when you send him a searing glare.

“I’ll see ya when I see ya,” Bucky says. You’re about ready to bite his head off. Why can’t he see it? Why can’t he feel it the way you do?

“Yeah. See ya when I see ya,” You echo, trying to swallow the lump in your throat.

***

“‘See ya when I see ya?’ That was the saddest string of words in the English language I’ve ever heard,” Sam says, thumping Bucky on the back of his head. 

“Oh really? Thanks for your opinion,” Bucky snarks, “She knew I had to go!”

“So? She’s allowed to not be happy about it.”

Bucky silences him with a glare and Sam rolls his eyes.

“Y’all are both some idiots.”

***

Bucky hadn’t even kissed you goodbye or told you he was going to miss you. The thought that he wouldn’t miss you leaves you motionless and in tears.

Does he still love you? Does he even like you? How could he look at you like that, like you were annoying him? As if he didn’t love you more than life itself, as if he didn’t spend every night falling asleep to your soft, rhythmic breaths? As if his crevices didn’t match yours, as if his stormy blue didn’t seek your brown warmth?

Had he even looked at you like that? As if you were an annoyance to quell? 

He hadn’t kissed you. He hadn’t said goodbye to you.

You can’t help but wonder- is he thinking about you?

***

You haven’t sent Bucky a single text, emoji, meme or photo. It’s been four days since Bucky said ‘he’d see ya when he sees ya’, and the words (or lack thereof) rattle in his mind mercilessly.

They could replace Hydra’s trigger words, he thinks darkly.

But you hadn’t even kissed him goodbye or told him you would miss him. He can’t get your sad, brown eyes out of his mind or the way you had folded in on yourself with your arms twisted together like vines after you had handed him your duffle bag.

He’s half expecting you to dump his stuff out in front of your apartment, indicating that you’re through with him and the darkness and the missions and the waiting and just… all of it.

You deserve better, he tells Sam grimly as they are staking out a Hydra base in the middle of Mount Batur in Bali. Bucky can’t help but think that Hydra is incredibly stupid for building a new base in such a heavy tourist location. But maybe they needed a change in scenery.

Sam had sent Bucky a glare, as if to say ‘is this really the best time?’

Bucky sighs, “Why was that so dramatic? ‘I’ll see you when I see you? Seriously? God, I want to electrocute myself every time I remember that I said that.”

“Tell Zemo that. He’ll be more than happy to fulfill that wish of yours,” Sam snorts.

“I miss her,” Bucky whines, “I’m so stupid, Sam.”

“So tell her,” Sam says simply with a small smile, “Including that last part. Multiple times.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t even kiss her or say goodbye. I’m the worst. But I wouldn’t blame her. If she wanted to go, I mean. I feel like I’m too much and not enough at the same time,” Bucky confesses softly, anxiety filling his voice.

“Sounds like you both need to sit down and talk. But before that, just call her-”

Bucky’s already calling you, eyes automatically searching for your name and the star emoji next to it. International fees be damned.

“I didn’t mean right now!”

***

You’re absent-mindedly scrolling on your phone, the blue light from the screen keeping your mind stimulated despite the fatigue behind your eyes. It’s 3:12 AM, you’re sleeping on Bucky’s side of the bed and you miss him. You wonder what he’s doing- is he safe? Is Sam safe? Is he protected? Does he know that you love him?

You can’t believe you let him go without saying goodbye, without a kiss, without telling him you loved him. You just said ‘you’d see him when you see him’. Well, in your defense, he said it first.

Hovering over his name, you contemplate calling him. Nah. He’s probably busy.

But he always told you he’d never be too busy for you. And that was true- you had called him a few times in the middle of anxiety attacks, or during a bout of insomnia- just to name a few instances. Despite the fact that he had been in the crux of a mission, fighting people off, dodging bullets left and right… He had tucked his cell phone in the crook of his neck and ear to calm you down in his low, comforting voice. You had been able to hear the rhythmic beats of his footsteps, with the occasional yell as he told you about his day, told you to follow his breaths, and listed the things he liked and loved about you. His voice was your favorite melody, a melody that fills you up with warmth and familiarity. 

You sigh and stare at the ceiling before feeling the buzz of a phone call in the palm of your hand.

Bucky’s name with a yellow heart emoji, along with a photo of both of you pops up on your phone and you accept the call quickly, butterflies strumming in your belly.

“Hi,” You say breathlessly.

“Hi,” Bucky says, sounding equally as breathless. You can hear Sam yelling at him for being distracted, you can hear commotion, glass breaking and doors slamming. But it’s all background noise.

“Are you okay?” You ask, “It’s like… 8 AM over there. Early morning Hydra base break in?” 

“Yeah. I haven’t even had a coffee yet, can you believe it?”

“Those Hydra guys won’t know what hit ‘em,” You chuckle.

There’s a beat of silence between both of you. 

“Hey… I’m sorry I left things so weird before I left. I’ll see ya when I see ya? Who the fuck says that,” Bucky mutters and smiles when you laugh, “I miss you, I’m sorry I won’t be there to start the new year with you, sweetheart. I’m such an idiot. And I’m sorry I made you feel so small.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye to you,” You whisper, “I miss you, I always do.”

“I know, honey. I always do, too,” Bucky murmurs, closely evading a punch to the stomach and a kick to the shins, “Save a kiss for me, will ya?” 

Bucky groans when he gets punched in the nose and you wince at the cracking sound.

“Ouch, that didn’t sound so good,” You remark, “Come back to me in one piece, will ya?” 

“I will,” Bucky promises, “I gotta bring you out here someday. You’d love it.”

“I think I would, too. Bali looks beautiful. We’d both get nice and tan on those pretty beaches.”

“You’re already tan,” Bucky snorts, “You’d get that nice, bronzed glow.”

“And don’t you forget it,” You yawn widely.

“Get some rest, honey,” Bucky murmurs. You hear a muffled explosion in the background and somehow you still yawn.

“Be careful out there, sweetheart,” You reply mildly and then after a second, “I’ll see ya when I see ya.”

“Stop making fun of me,” Bucky whines and you laugh.

“Goodnight, honey.”

***

Specks of gold sit on the walls of your friend’s apartment, glittering at every turn of your head. It’s simple, paired with a large balloon of a bottle of Moet champagne, with smaller balloons coming out of the opening of the bottle. Strings of pale yellow fairy lights line the ceilings of the apartment, casting a slight glow on everyone in attendance.

Your friends have outdone themselves this year. They had asked for your recommendations on decorations, which had been your duty. So truly, you had outdone yourself this year. There is a station for champagne bottles chilling in buckets of ice and champagne flutes. And another station of liquor, mixers and solo cups to drink out of, as well as finger foods and snacks. It had been a potluck style party and everyone brought different entrees to have for dinner.

You had objected to the red solo cups- “We can afford to drink out of something nicer than red solo cups!”

And the subsequent retort- “And who’s going to wash all the glasses, huh?”

So the red solo cups stayed and you tried your best to not think about how out of place they looked with all of the gold and glitter. Everyone was wearing a mix of black, silver, gold or burgundy. And you? You were wearing a silk, olive green camisole, black pants and a black blazer with a glittery finish to it. Golden teardrops hang on your earlobes, swishing with every turn of your head and a necklace that Bucky had bought you sits along on the column of your throat. You had left your chunky heels at the door- of course you wanted to show off your New Year’s manicure and pedicure to your friends.

Several rounds of games go by- Cards Against Humanity, What do you Meme, and of course, beer pong and flip cup and then more food and drink. It’s about thirty minutes to midnight and you haven’t heard from Bucky in a few hours. You had sent him photos of yourself getting ready, selfies with your friends and of the decorations. All of the texts say that they’ve been delivered. But maybe he’s busy.

You’re starting to feel the sting a little bit when couples start to get cozy with one another, some cuddling subtly and some cuddling not so subtly. You check your phone once more, wondering where in the world Bucky could be. At least you have the solace that he’s safe- he had told you that everything was okay, they had gotten the information they needed. Him and Sam were safe.

Sticking your phone in the back pocket of your pants and fixing yourself a mixed drink, you rally everyone together for toasts to end the decade off. With Bucky burning brightly in the back of your mind.

***

You call Bucky at 11:56 PM. You’re not sure where he is, if he’ll even have cell reception, but you do it anyway. He doesn’t answer and you go straight to voicemail. It’s 11:58 PM by the time you decide to leave him a voicemail.

“Hi,” You begin, “Um… It’s probably already next year where you are, right? Happy new year, honey. To many more new years, new adventures and new… everything. I’ll text you in the morning, miss you, love you.”

With your heart feeling a little lighter, you join your friends in the living room to watch the countdown live. You don’t notice that one of your friends has disappeared and another one has a sly look on her face when she glances over to you.

***

Bucky is sweating bullets. He’s been running around the city for the last hour, from one edge to another. Sam and Bucky had finished up their mission late on the day before New Year’s Eve and Bucky thought it would be cute to surprise you before midnight on New Year’s day.

But of course, their quinjet had had a few technical difficulties, they had run into some trouble, and it had taken them behind schedule a few hours. 

So now, Bucky is currently sprinting to Williamsburg from the subway station because the subway car going to Brooklyn is currently out of service for the next forty-five minutes.

Just his luck. This is the most stressed Bucky has probably ever been.

***

It’s 11:56 PM when Bucky feels his phone vibrating. He quickly checks who it is, silencing it when he sees that it’s you calling. Bucky is currently running up twelve flights of stairs to get to your friend’s apartment building. The elevator was taking far too long, and Bucky was far too impatient to wait.

To the twelfth floor he goes.

Bucky hears his phone buzzing again, but just for a second. It’s a voicemail and he’s certain it’s from you. His heart sputters for a moment at the thought of you missing him. As it always does.

Just two more floors to go. Sam would mock him for how long it’s taking him to get to the twelfth floor.

With wide eyes and his chest heaving, he sprints down the corridor to apartment number 12-303. He has to make it, he has to get to you before…

Ten!

Apartment 12-295 is on his right.

Nine!

Apartment 12-299…

Eight!

Apartment 12-301…

Much to his relief, the door to apartment 12-303 is unlocked. He had texted your friends hours ago, asking them to please leave the door unlocked. At least that had gone according to plan.

Your friends peek over to see him at the doorway and each give him a smug smile. Your back is facing away from him as you’re watching the countdown on the television screen. You turn your head a fraction, looking over your shoulder to call out for everyone to come watch the countdown, and then you see him.

You gasp loudly, hands over your mouth in complete surprise. Your heart is singing for him, begging you to to join him. You’re tethered to him, feet moving of their own accord.  Time stops for a moment, the faint sounds of the seconds counting down were nothing but static in your ears. All you can see is Bucky. Bucky who had done who knows what to make this special for you.

Bucky’s right in front of you with a small smile. He pulls you to him, not wasting a second before pressing his lips to yours just as the raucous cheers of happy new year go off around them. It’s just Bucky and you standing there with his hands cupping your cheeks and your hands light on his wrists. Glitter and confetti gently falls on his shoulders and your dark hair, giving you a crown of sparkles. Your soul is aflame, and you’re unable to keep yourself from smiling into the kiss.

He pulls away with bitten lips and rests his forehead against yours. He pulls a speck of confetti from your nose and kisses you once more.

“Happy new year’s, honey,” Bucky murmurs.

“Happy new year’s, baby,” You say, kissing his chin, “Thank you for doin’ this for me.”

“I told ya,” Bucky grins, lopsided and your favorite, “Told ya I’d see ya when I see ya.”

***

tags: @coal000 @hootyhoobuckaroo @buckyforbreakfast @lesqui @amethyst-dreams-and-candy-canes @sergeantbarnescaptainrogers @whothehellisbucky

[dezmondmyles]

haha ok i got tagged by @taruyison ilu <3

alright cool lets do this

Would You Rather - Fanfic Version

Do you prefer friends to lovers or enemies to lovers? Aw man, do I gotta choose? I really love both, but there’s something a little more mmm, intimate, about enemies to lovers.

Would you rather be forced to watch a terrible movie adaptation of your favorite fanfic or an amazing adaptation of your least favorite fanfic? "terrible” and “amazing” are very subjective, and I love trashy movies/games that are fun to watch/play so that’s kinda my attitude with fanfics haha.

Would you rather read fanfic chapters backwards or read them as parsed from google translate? Backwards? I guess? If I have to translates a fic, uhh, I just Don’t lmao.

Would you rather consume every fanfic as an audiobook read by a monotone narrator or have to read on a tiny printed piece of papers written in yellow highlighter? If I had to choose, probably the audiobook. My eyes have trouble reading black text on white background sometimes as it is.

Would you rather get a tattoo on your body of every fanfic title you read or never read fanfic again? Never read fanfic again ahahaha. I’ve read some trashy fanfic just based on the equally dubious title before.

Do you prefer vampire au or werewolf au? If you know anything about me as a person.... Well you know that answer. And if you don’t, it’s uh, werewolf.  

Would you rather get sold to a boy band or be stuck in a time loop with your love interest? Time loop I guess? I never listened to 1D.

Would you rather kill your favorite character or marry your least favorite character? What if my favorite character is already dead?? Also what’s stopping me from marrying my least, killing them, and cashing out on the life insurance??

Would you rather meet your love interest in a coffee shop au or college au? My big brain take is to combine both- The local coffee shop near campus. Boom.

Would you rather have your fic history leaked or never read another fanfic again? Again, I’ll just never read again lmaaaao.

Would you rather be able to read amazing fanfiction but it always has an mpreg plot twist or only read bad fanfiction for the rest of your life? I uh, wrote?? Some of the mpreg in a reasonable semi-thought out fashion?? Also I’ve already spent most of my reading subjectively bad fanfic so like, idk.

Would you rather gay ships or straight ships? I can do both?? Also are we talking gay-gay ships or “these two are in a samesies relationship but theyre bi” ship? cause i can do that too.

Would you rather ship a rarepair with almost no content or a pair with lots of content but almost all of it is cracky nightmare smut? Honey I’m already in rarepair hell don’t even talk to me lmfao.

Would you rather see your otp shatter years after their happily ever after or never have the happily ever after happen in the first place? I mean, both is already like, the Thing with them anyway lmfao. I fuck hard with bittersweet endings all the same.

Would you rather read a poorly written but complete fanfic or a literary masterpiece last updated june 2013? I mean I do both. The former esp if the content is compelling enough for me to continue reading just to see how much more terrible it can get.

Would you rather read SSSS++++ tier smut with almost 11k words or 70k words worth of fluff? I can do both, the fluff will probably make me cry though in the end lmao you don’t get that many words of fluff without something sad in there

Would you rather read only alternate universe fanfics or only canon fanfics? My bread and butter is AU by virtue of being a crossover shipper. No matter how close to canon I get with either, it’s still ultimately AU. Plus, canon is dumb af anyway for both so i’m doing everyone a favor lmao.

Would you rather introduce fanfics to your normie friend with an ongoing smut fic with great writing or a complete fluff fic with terrible writing? Depends on the normie. I have non-fandom friends who enjoy writing and reading as much as I do, and I feel like that a well written smut and fluff fic would be more compelling to them, if not just to analyze the characters.

Would you rather read your notp with all your favorite tropes and perfect characterization or your otp with tropes you despise and inconsistent characterization? I think I’d pick the notp honestly. Listen, anything can become an otp with the right convincing in my book. Though, for most of my notps, they employ a lot of similar annoying tropes I hate seeing in most of my otps so like, can’t win them all.

Would you rather have a major character death or have a bed sharing scene but it’s a ship you hate? Major Character Death in the bed they were sharing.

Would you rather every fanfic includes Jackson Wang or every fanfic includes at least one nsfw moment? dunno who that is so I guess one nsfw moment it is.

Would you rather read a fanfic that has constant grammar and spelling mistakes or one that the characters are wildly different than canon? Have you read any of my fics I’m the worst speller/grammarererrr ever. However, I can take “wildly different” to a certain point in the case of many AUs where you kinda have to fudge things a little for the sake of your setting.

Would you rather read the most absolutely messed up dead dove with your most wholesome ship or subject yourself to 100,000 words of your notp all written in a solid block with no punctuation and horrible grammar? Dead Dove, no contest.

Would you rather have the power to read every fanfic in existence or have the power to make any ship canon? Any ship canon. I literally have no interest in read every single fanfic ever.

Would you rather read a cringy 70 chapter harry styles mafia au or a high school kpop au y/n fic with horrible grammar? At least I know who Harry Styles is lmfao.

Would you rather have your otp get together in canon but one of them dies in a tragic way or all members of your otp survive but get together with other people? They’re already dead in their respective canons so it can’t get worse from here right?

Would you rather accidentally send your boss a super detailed smut fic or read a super detailed smut fic about your boss? I think the latter because I would rather I lose respect for my boss than the other way around lol.

Would you rather read smut fanfic aloud to your parents or submit smut fanfic to the employer of your dream job? Like taru asked, what is the context. I think the latter though if it was allowed and it’s explicitly what they wanted.

Would you rather pine after an oblivious love interest or be the oblivious love interest pined after? I’m both irl (probably lmao)

Would you rather hanahaki disease or your soulmate’s first words to you tattooed on your body (and they’re really stupid)? I had to look up what hanahaki was lol, so I guess soulmate’s first words. And I mean, how much more stupid would mine be anyway?

Would you rather be an alpha, beta, or omega in omegaverse? None, I hate omegaverse with a passion. You can’t dress it up in any form possible to make me enjoy it. Idc what character(s) is/are in it, it bugs the fuck out of me.

Would you rather read a fanfic where the characters turn into furries or a fanfic where the characters all get pregnant? I mean, out of morbid curiosity, I’d wanna read both?? I’d hate it but I’d attempt to read it at least once?

Would you rather be able to resurrect dead fics or have the power to create a plethora of new fics effortlessly? New fics, so long as they’re getting completed on top of that ahaha.

whoo, that was fun! it’s been a while since i’ve done one of these memes. thanks for the tag, taru!

ok so i guess i’ll tag in return: @cooldadmondmiles @theladyisapirate and @seventhstrife

have fun friendos!

[embeanwrites]

Finding Home Gavin Reed x Reader

Chapter 15

Masterlist

Connor had driven me home after we finished the movie and now, I was laying in bed looking at my phone. I decided to send Gavin a text before heading to bed.

 How’s burning the midnight oil with Nines?

 lame, i wish i was with my cats

 Me too lol

 how was dinner

 Pretty good, we watched Into the Spider-Verse after. Connor had never seen it!

 i haven’t either

 You’re joking, right? Is this the Jameson and Ginger Ale thing again?

 i barely have time for new movies, let alone old ones

 We’re watching it ASAP

 lol ok pipsqueak

hey i have bad news

 Damn, you couldn’t secure a place for the Dead Mom Society to meet? Or is the bakery out of chocolate chip cookies?

 no i have to work through lunch on monday

 :(

What are you going to have for lunch then?

 idk a pb&j from the breakroom

 Would it ruin your “working through lunch” if I brought you lunch and we eat it in the breakroom?

 nines wont be too happy

 Tell him it’s revenge for lying and setting us up!

 ok ill work on him and let u know

 Awesome! Good luck saving the city tonight, Batman!

 ur the biggest nerd ive ever met

yet for some reason i like u

 Awwwwww you like me

 …hm

 Yeah, yeah I like you too

I gotta go to bed, talk to you later

 Sleep tight, pipsqueak

I smiled at the screen for a moment, even if that nickname was rude and had started as an insult, it was his thing for me now. I'm an adult woman. A nickname shouldn't make me feel this giddy, but here I am, grinning at a now black phone screen, thinking about how he only grins and never smiles and how handsome it is when half his face scrunches up to accommodate those grins. I wonder if he's grinning now, a small one at his desk, maybe into a cup of coffee to hide it while he returns to his case files. I hope he's grinning, feeling like a stupid teenager. I hope he likes me as much as I'm starting to like him. I fell asleep soon after, thinking of what I should bring him for lunch, trying to guess what would surprise him most without being too flashy, what I could do to make him grin for me again.

 I woke up the next morning around 10 am, and laid in bed for a moment questioning how necessary it was for me to get out of this nice warm cocoon of blankets, with the sunlight streaming in gently just out of my eyes, and sighed loudly when I remembered that it was indeed necessary that I get out of bed, as Tina would be here to pick me up at 11:30. I kicked the covers off, grabbing my phone off the charger and moving to sit on the edge of the bed to check it before truly getting up. The first notification was a text from Gavin, sent around 5 a.m. 

u can come on monday probs around 11 bring whatever im not picky

 Will do, Batman!

I turned on a throwback playlist while I got ready, a quick shower where I debated too long over shaving my legs before I actually did so, thinking about how Tina might have me try on a suit or dress for the wedding. I hadn't decided what I wanted to go for yet, hence the indecisiveness with the razor. Eventually I bit the bullet and just took the extra five minutes to shave just to the tops of my knees, not bothering with my thighs as I highly doubted I'd be wearing a mini dress to a formal event, though it might be fun to see how Gavin would react to more revealing clothes. I filed the thought away while I got out of the shower, toweling off and tying the towel around my hair and brushing my teeth. By the time I had thrown on a pair of well loved jeans and a plain tee, Tina was calling me, I answered and before I could even put the phone to my ear, I could hear music blaring in the background, and then Tina screamed "HERE BITCH!" and promptly hung up. I pocketed the phone, and hurried looking for my Birkenstocks, of course they weren't by the door, they were in front of the fridge, where I had stopped last night upon arriving home to grab some food before heading to bed. I slid the sandals on, stopping for a moment to grab two packets of the applesauce squeezies for a quick breakfast. 

By the time I got to the car, Tina was listening to a different song, but the volume was the same, I'm sure my poor neighbors who were trying to sleep in on a Sunday morning were not very pleased. I opened the door and slid in, Tina turned the volume down. What a shame, she had excellent taste in music, ‘Do I Wanna Know?’ by Arctic Monkeys isn't a song you just turn down! 

"Took you long enough!" She laughed, a smile stretching across her face. 

"Shut up I couldn't find my shoes!" I shouted, holding up my feet and wiggling my toes in the most comfortable pair of shoes ever made. She looked at my feet and raised her eyebrows, snorting.

"Jesus Christ I’m a lesbian and I still wouldn’t wear those ugly ass shoes, (Y/n)!” I gasped and smacked her arm. 

“You’re disrespecting your culture!” I shouted, as the car silently started and began to pull out into the street, heading towards the dress store. Tina just giggled and I huffed. 

“For that, I’m not giving you the applesauce I brought for you.” I tore open the packets, double fisting them and squeezing all their contents into my mouth. Tina howled with laughter 

“What are you, fucking two years old! I cannot believe you!” 

“You’re just jealous that you aren’t as stylish as me and now I’ve had a healthy breakfast which I assume you didn’t as you were at the station all night. I was going to be a good, kind, maid of honor and offer you sustenance but if you disrespect the birks, you disrespect me.” I joked, crossing my arms and looking out the windshield past her. 

“Oh my god my maid of honor is two years old!!” 

“Hey! That’s uncalled for, I’m not a toddler, if anything I’m like a seven year old, I make sense but just barely.” I joked. She laughed and nodded. 

“Still can’t buy booze.”

“That’s why there are other best people who are of age who can.” 

There was a natural pause in the conversation, the song changed and we both listened for a moment before Tina turned to me, a devilish grin on her face making me nervous. 

“What?”

“So, I noticed something strange at work last night.”

“Yeah, what did you notice?” I laughed.

“A certain someone kept texting on their phone and smiling AND Nines wasn’t giving them a hard time for being on their phone.” She smirked. “I thought the date went bad?”

“How do you even know it was me, future Detective Chen?”

“Well, I may have glanced over his shoulder at some point and saw your name.” I laughed.

“Tina! I was going to tell you. You didn’t have to spy on Gavin!” She laughed.

“It was the heat of the moment. I promise the next time I spy on him I won’t tell you.” I shoved her shoulder and we both laughed.

“Man, I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.” The automatic car pulled into the bridal shop and we both squealed, jumping out of the car and practically running inside.

"I win." Tina said smugly as she crossed the threshold of the store before me. 

"Hey who's the kid now!"

Time went by fast in the shop, the consultants immediately brought us back to a sitting area, offering us complimentary champagne that we happily took. Our consultant, a happy-go-lucky android named Lance, brought out a selection of pantsuits for Tina to try, and offered excellent counsel on all of Tina's concerns. She wanted something elegant and more masculine. She tried a couple things before deciding pinstripe made her feel like a mobster and that white was definitely not her color. Lance was always smiling and laughing with them, not minding at all when they laughed at one of the options or didn't like what he had brought for her. He was very efficient in bringing options, and after three 'no's' he brought out a selection of black jackets and pants, assisting her in a pair of slim fit high waisted slacks with a center vertical pleat to help her look taller, a simple white dress shirt with a short popped collar, and a sleek black satin jacket, with a black lining. The fabric shone nicely in the light, a little bit of a sparkle in the thread. She looked gorgeous, and I could tell she felt it too, the way her eyes shone a bit, and her cheeks flushed, though she would probably blame that on the champagne if I brought it up later.

“You should try on some bridesmaids’ dresses. I’ve got my suit and now I want to judge others!”  Tina plopped down on the couch next to me and took my champagne from me.

"You haven't even decided on the style you want! Are you matching both bridal parties? Doesn't Valerie have a say in it then!" I squawked, reaching for the champagne flute she'd stolen from me. 

"We actually have talked about it, and we decided that as long as everyone has blush pink or yellow in their outfit, whatever style they want is best. It eliminates the drama and keeps our wedding day happy." Tina said, tipping her head back and downing my champagne in one big gulp. I smacked her arm. 

"Ah, I'd be happy to help you find a dress Miss. (L/N)." Lance offered, moving to sit next to me and offered out his hand, images of dresses popping up on his hand. 

"What are you thinking Miss (L/N)? Would you prefer the blush tone or yellow?" Lance asked, looking at my face instead of his hand. 

"Ah, blush please." I requested. 

"Not a problem, it's a popular color so we have a lot of options. Now, what style cut do you like?" I looked at him like a fish out of water. 

"I'm not sure, what do you think would look best, Lance?" He smiled, before pulling up a couple of images on his hand and explaining the styles and what design choices would flatter my features. I nodded, and he guided me back to the dressing room. 

"I'm going to run and grab some of the options we discussed Miss. (L/N)." He told me, before shutting the door. He knocked when he returned about five minutes later, hanging six dresses on the wall for me. "When you're ready, join us in the showing room, and we can adjust the fit and see what the bride thinks." He told me. I shouted 'Thanks!' through the door before turning to decide which dress I wanted to try first. 

 “Wow.” I murmured looking at myself in the mirror. From the tag on the dress I learned it’s a ‘long chiffon dress with halter neckline.’ I didn’t really understand what any of those words meant, but this dress was…amazing. It made me feel like a goddamn princess. 

“What’s taking so long!” I heard Tina shout.

“Give me a minute, you drunk!” I walked out of the dressing room, towards where Tina was sitting.

“Holy shit.” I laughed and spun around.

“It’s pretty good, right?” She got up and walked towards me.

“You’re getting this one. No question. I’m not letting you leave without it!”

“Are you sure? I can try a light-yellow dress if you want.”

“No, this one is perfect.” She smashed her cheek on mine and we both looked at ourselves in the mirror. I was smiling so wide my face was starting to hurt. She quickly grabbed her phone and snapped a picture of us, and I laughed.

“Tina!”

“What! I want to remember this moment.” She kissed my cheek. “I can’t wait to come back here with you when Gavin proposes.” She teased, causing you to laugh. 

“We’ve gone on one date! How much champagne have you had?” She shook her head.

“Just three glasses, I’m drunk on happiness! Come on, change back and buy that dress!” I laughed and walked back to the changing room. I picked up my phone and saw Tina had sent me the picture already. Smiling, I sent the picture to my dad.

 Got my dress for the wedding!

 Beautiful kiddo!

[i-miss-balthazar]

Pride

Warnings: Idk, swearing?

Rating: General audiences

Pairings:  Jody x Donna (I don’t know their ship name), DreamHunter, background Destiel

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The phone rang twice, before Dean picked up. 

“Hello?” The hunter asked cheerfully. Hearing him brought a smile to Jody’s face. 

“Hey Dean, how you doing?” She greeted. 

“Everything’s pretty good over here. Just got back on a shopping trip.” Dean hummed. 

“What are you doing tomorrow afternoon?” Jody asked, eyeing the circle on the calendar in front of her, marking tomorrow’s date in bright pink. 

“Nothing I can think of, how come?” Dean responded. 

“Well the pride parade in Sioux Falls is tomorrow, and I’m sure the girls would love having you guys there. Plus it’ll be good to catch up.” 

“Pride parade? We’re in!” Gabriel’s muffled voice called from the other line, making Jody chuckle softly.

“Well I guess my mind is made up.” Dean laughed. “Text me the information, we’ll be there.” 

“Wonderful, Dean…”

“Alright, I’ve gotta let you go so I can unpack the groceries. We’ll see you tomorrow, Jody!”

“See you tomorrow.” 

~|~

“Claire, give me back my makeup!” Alex scowled. 

“I just need to borrow the pink, Alex, calm your tits.” Claire retorted. 

“It isn’t my fault the only colour you have is blacker than your soul!” Alex crossed her arms. 

“Girls! Quit fighting.” Jody sighed. “Alex, she can use your makeup for now.” Claire gave Alex a smug look. “But next time she will ask, right Claire?” Jody asked expectantly, crossing her arms. Claire rolled her eyes. 

“I only took it because I knew she’d say no.” She huffed. 

“Share, girls.” Jody sighed, turning to Donna as she exited the bathroom, a her hair done up nicely and makeup equally as beautiful, with a shirt coloured in the pink yellow and blue of the pansexual flag. She gave a gesture of ‘ta da’, smiling brightly, and Jody’s heart melted. “You look beautiful, Donna…” She praised, stealing a kiss. Jody didn’t get as dressed up as everyone else. She wore plain jeans, and flannel over a shirt that said ‘we’re all human’, the letters of ‘human’ styled with various pride flags. Though, she did intend to buy a demisexual flag while they were there. 

“I’m ready.” Patience informed, sitting down on the couch. She was wearing a black and white quarter sleeve shirt reading ‘my sexuality is nope’ in the ace colours, and holding a small aro flag. 

“You look great, sweetie.” Donna smiled. 

“We’re leaving in five minutes!” Jody called to the other girls.

“I’m almost ready!” Alex shouted. Claire strutted out, her signature leather jacket on over a black shirt with a rainbow, with ‘kiss whoever the fuck you want’ scrawled above the flag. She also had her makeup done in the colours of the lesbian flag, and displayed an assortment of pins on her jacket. Alex slipped out after her.

“I would’ve been ready sooner if someone hadn’t stolen my makeup.” She glared at Claire. 

“Hey. No fighting, you two.” Jody warned, pointing a finger at them sternly. 

“Yes mom.” Claire sighed. 

“Can we go now?” Alex grinned. Jody smiled, ushering them to the car. 

~|~

It was about half way through the day when Jody rounded the girls up. Each of them had an assortment of wristbands from all the activities, and Claire was covered in glitter. Patience’s cheek was painted with black white grey and purple, and Alex was draped in a bisexual flag, beaded necklaces around her neck. They’re each glowing with joy, and Jody smiled fondly.

“The boys are here, we’re going to meet them at where the sidewalk painting is going to happen in…” she checks her watch. “Ten minutes, so let’s head over there.” Jody hummed, leading her girls in the right direction, catching Donna’s hand as they walked. 

Jack noticed them first, his whole expression lighting up with joy. He had pink white and blue painted on his cheek, and a shirt that said ‘trans pride’ with a pink white and blue unicorn. 

“Hello!” He beamed, waving to them. 

“Hey you guys!” Dean smiled, approaching them and hugging Jody, then Donna. Sam followed his lead. Dean was sporting a bisexual shirt - a pun on the N’Sync song ‘Bye Bye Bye’, and also had some light makeup on, while Sam had a demisexual flag draped over his shoulders. After hugging the girls, Dean retreated to Castiel’s side, who merely had a rainbow flag, stealing a kiss. Gabriel was shirtless, body glitter decorating his torso in a rainbow of colours, while the pansexual flag hung around his shoulders like a cape, and the glitter was probably the only reason he wasn’t trying to get a piggy back ride from Sam. 

“You guys look great.” Jody praised. 

“Thank you, I designed it!” Gabriel boasted. “Pretty much all of it. I went shopping and got them to wear as much as possible.” He glared at Sam and Cas. “Some were picky.” 

“It’s fine, it don’t matter what you’re wearing, long as you have a good time.” Donna assured. 

“Crosswalk painting will start in five minutes! Everyone get your brushes!” A voice called through a megaphone, and well, how could any of them resist?

~|~

They stayed for a long time, until the sun faded from the sky. Jody sent a group text, telling them where to meet for the fireworks, and Claire was making her way there. Unfortunately, she got swept away by the crowd, and now found herself on the outskirts. With an angry huff, she pulled out her phone, trying to get a GPS. Head down as she walked, she did her best to avoid crashing into anyone, but as she crossed a corner she collided with someone, knocking them both down. 

“Sorry…” she mumbled, shaking her head. “Stupid phone.” She picked the device up, rising and offering the girl her hand. When the other girl took her hand, her brain completely short circuited. 

“It’s okay.” She murmured, taking Claire’s hand to pull herself up. Claire would recognize that face anywhere. Kaia Nieves, they had math together in third block all semester, and bio last block the semester before. And Claire was madly in love with her. “You’re Claire, right? From math class?” She asked. Claire forgot how to use English. 

“I...uh...yeah. That’s me.” She smiled, her eyes catching on the lesbian pride button adorning her sweater. Good to know. 

“Didn’t think I’d see anyone from school here, they’re all kind of…” Kaia trailed off. 

“Ignorant douchebags?” Claire guessed. Kaia gave a guilty smile. “Most of them are.” Claire chuckled. “But uh… you’re pretty cool.” She offered a smile.

“Thanks.” Kaia smiled back. Now or never, Claire…

“Hey, uh… you wanna watch the fireworks together?” Claire asked quickly, before she could abort. Kaia blinked, blushing softly. 

“...okay.” She agreed softly. Claire’s smile brightened, and she took Kaia’s hand, leading her off. It was a night to remember. 

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Representation Week Tag List:

@misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @specialagentrin @peanutbutterandgrapejelly @all-or-nothing-baby @petrichoravellichor @i-know-like-four-things @fantastikitty7 @is-jus-me @hexlorde

Author’s Note: This one’s especially for Sheya! She gave me the prompt. If I had any art skills, I’d definitely draw them all for you guys, but alas. Also full disclosure, I have never been to pride, but I asked around and consulted google, so I hope it’s okay!

[heyyyharry]

Chapter 3: Handcuffs

(from the Flatmate Trilogy: Two Hearts, One Home)

...in which Niall can only think of one way to solve his best friends’ conflict.

Warning: overusing of the word ‘fuck’, and mentioning of kinky sexual activities lmao.

Word count: 6k

Chapter 2: Boss - Y/N deals with more problems at work, and Harry makes a life changing decision.

Wattpad link

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"Janet, can you email me the event timeline? Linh, raise the target to five hundred for me, you can do better than that. Jay, that email—"

"Mrs. Styles, coffee for you."

Y/N looked at the new intern who smiled at her and offered the coffee cup with both hands. Her name was written on it, so it couldn't be a mistake. But she would've remembered ordering black coffee, for it was one thing she could never swallow down half of her throat.

"From Mr. Coleman."

Of course it is. Y/N thought. She thanked the intern for the drink then brought it straight to Jack's office. If he wanted to keep them both alive in the same company, he needed to stop with these overfriendly gestures.

"You know I hate black coffee."

Jack looked up when she placed the cup down on his desk. The way she stood with a grimace and her arms crossed put a smile upon his face. He pointed the pen he was holding to the cup, not taking his eyes off her. "You might need that if you're gonna pull an all-nighter again."

Y/N's eyes went wide at that answer. "How do you—"

"Let's see, I sent you a text at 2AM, asking you to edit the MC script for me, which would take around an hour or two. Then I received that script via email at around 3:45. So my guess is that you either woke up at two in the morning or you didn't sleep at all." He paused to breathe before continuing. "But you once mentioned that quote from How I Met Your Mother in a meeting, though literally nobody asked, and I almost kicked you out for interrupting me." Y/N scoffed when Jack scrunched up his nose to tease her as he went on, "the quote says, 'when 2AM rolls around, just go home and go to sleep.' That means..."

Now he pointed the pen at her, and she did what he wanted her to do. "I pulled an all-nighter." Complete his sentence.

"See?" He chuckled, slightly tapping the pen on his forehead which made her laugh again.

"Wow, you're a detective now huh? Maybe you should quit this job and go solve some criminal cases."

"I just promoted you last week and now you already wanna get rid of me?"

Y/N shook his head, trying to hold back another smile, even though she knew she couldn't.

"Thanks for the coffee by the way," she told him, lifting her cup and reached for the door handle. "I hope this will be the last time you buy me anything without my consent."

"Wait, Y/N!" Jack spoke up right before she could leave. So she turned back to him, both eyebrows raised. "Congratulations on your husband's new company."

That wasn't something she'd expected to hear.

"My husband's what now?" Her eyes expanded even more as her mouth fell opened. Definitely not the reaction Jack was hoping for, because he seemed a bit taken aback.

"Styles Corporation?"

"Which belongs to his dad and in San Francisco."

"Shit," Jack cursed under his breath which clearly didn't sound like a good thing. Never had Y/N doubted her husband until this point. She marched towards Jack, forgetting he was her boss as she slammed both hands on the desk top, eyes narrowed at him.

"What do you know that I don't, Jack?"

Jack swallowed hard. He leaned back a bit to keep a distance between them two. He didn't want to be the first person she heard this from, but this wasn't the right time to wonder why Harry hadn't.

"Devlin Styles was gonna sell the company to my family...But then Harry changed his mind, and wanted to keep it."

"But he didn't want to move to San Francisco. I kept telling him—"

"Y-Yeah. That's why he's relocating the company to London."

Y/N's jaw dropped as soon as she heard those words. It almost felt like an ice bucket splashed into her face. She was hearing this big news from her boss, and not her husband, the closest person to her. And now she was furious.

This was actually the first day since Y/N started working here that she left the office early. On the taxi ride home, she'd already come up with twenty different ways to kill her husband. What was he thinking? Keeping something like this from her?

Always be honest to each other my ass.

"Congratulations Mrs. CEO!"

"Fuck!" Y/N shouted out, causing Nam to jump in shock. A lady standing nearby quickly covered her child's ear then urged him into the lift. Y/N just ignored that look she was given and turned back to the doorman. "Did he tell you too?"

"Harry? No, Layla did." Nam flashed her a smile.

Okay, so Layla knows which means Niall also knows. He'd rather tell those two before me. How lucky am I?

"Are you okay?" Nam asked as he picked up the yellow cat at his feet and put him on the counter. Y/N recognized the creature immediately, he was Mason and Stephanie's pet. Great, now she had to share a catsitter with those obnoxious people. But wasn't Treasure supposed to be here as well? Y/N remembered leaving her with Nam this morning. Hurriedly, she looked around, searching for her white fur ball which Nam noticed, so he spoke, "Layla took her already. She and Niall are hanging out with Harry in your flat. But seriously girl, are you okay?"

Y/N rested her arm against the counter as she heaved a sigh. But right before she could open her mouth and vent about what had happened, Stephanie walked in. The evil blonde had this enormous grin on her face when she saw Y/N. Either Stephanie forgot to take her medicine, or this was only a trap.

"Hey, neighbor! I heard about Styles Co.!"

"Of course you did!" Y/N scoffed sarcastically. "Everyone did. Why hasn't this been on the news?"

"It has," Stephanie answered to the other girl's surprise. She thought Y/N might not believe her so she pulled out her phone to open the article. "Many business newspapers are already talking about this. See?"

Y/N pressed her lips together as she threw her arms in the air. She had absolutely nothing to say about this situation. Now that she knew the whole world had heard about this except for her, it felt like a slap in the face.

"Bye, Nam. Gotta go."

"Wait!" Stephanie seized Y/N's arm right when she turned to the lift. With an artificial grin, the blonde told her, "Let's forget all the misunderstandings we had in the past. We're neighbors after all. Maybe Tiger and Treasure can have a playdate this weekend!"

Y/N was already fed up with Harry, she didn't have time to deal with Stephanie's pretentious kindness. She shrugged her neighbor's hand off her arm and straight off denied the offer. "I don't think that's gonna happen, Steph. Treasure may like Tiger, but I don't like Tiger's owners. Sorry."

When Y/N marched towards the lift and heard Nam chuckle, she could imagine how humiliated Stephanie looked. That made her feel much better about having to deal with Harry later. Now she could only hope her husband had a good explanation for this.

"Harry Edward Styles!" She shouted from the moment she stepped into the hallway. Harry and their two friends probably heard it too. Because once the door flew opened, they were already staring at her in fear. Harry's face went pale as he caught her dead glare.

"You relocated a whole fucking enterprise, and became the CEO but your wife was the last to know?!"

"I was gonna tell you tonight," Harry confessed as he sat up straight. But Y/N's expression hadn't softened, not even a little bit.

Sitting right beside him, Niall retreated into his own arms and Layla pulled Treasure to her lap, slowly sinking into the couch. Neither one of them expected to be dragged into this mess. But unfortunately, Y/N didn't spare a single living soul.

"I give you one chance to be honest with me," she said, pointing to the other couple. "When did Harry tell you about this?"

"Harry didn't—"

"Right after you told us about your promotion," Layla spoke fast, and received looks of shock from both her fiancé and his best friend. "What? You idiots know I'm always gonna pick her."

"I'm proud of you," Y/N mumbled to her best friend and turned right back to Harry. "Well?"

He sucked in a deep breath before rising up from the couch, walking straight towards his wife. She turned away, taking a step back when he attempted to hold her. He couldn't charm his way out of this, not again.

"I'm sorry, baby. I never wanted you to find out from those online articles."

"No, I didn't," she said, raising both hands so he would back off. "Jack told me. I found out from my freaking boss, Harry!"

Y/N didn't expect this reaction from her husband who took a step back immediately. The look of regret he'd had earlier had been replaced by a grimace. With both hands on his hips, he said, "so that's why you're so upset."

"Of course that's why! I heard it from my boss when I could've heard it from you!" She cried out, but he shook his head no as if to deny her words.

"I don't think it's the only reason," he said. His voice was dangerously low. "You wouldn't have reacted this way if you'd heard it from Niall and Layla. But because it's Jack—"

"Are you kidding me?! What are you implying?"

"You were the one who told me to take over Styles Co. and now you're mad because I agreed to go for it," he raised his voice a bit louder now. That was how she knew he was just as pissed off about this. It was ridiculous. He had no right to be angry after hiding something like this from her. "Did he say something to you? Ask you to make me change my mind? I know his family is upset about the deal."

"No, Jack's not the problem here. You are." Y/N scoffed. She could faintly hear Layla say "oh no she didn't" in the background, still she ignored that and went on. "We're married. You cannot make such a big decision without me."

"So you don't want me to accept the offer then?"

"Don't twist my words." She stabbed a finger at him. "I would've dropped my job to go with you to San Francisco, but you didn't trust me enough to talk to me about it first!"

"We're not going to San Francisco anymore!" Harry clenched his hands into fists as he squeezed the air out of frustration. "I did this all for you, and I already apologized. Why are you so mad about it?"

"Because you apologize while pointing the gun at me, Harry. You're raising your voice at me too. That's not fucking sorry!"

Y/N rarely cursed. Whenever she did and couldn't stop, she must be mad as hell. Niall and Layla had now turned invisible in their eyes as they were too caught up in their argument. Neither one paid attention to Niall, who was now standing right next to them.

"Can't you see you're making a big deal out of nothing? You get to keep your job. We're getting a company of our own. I'm doing us both a favor here."

"That's not what this is about."

"Then what is it about? Jack?"

"Don't bring Jack into this! He has nothing to do with—"

Click!

The couple froze in an instant when they heard that familiar sound. They turned to look at Niall and followed where his eyes were hinting at to find the biggest shock of the day. Their wrists were now linked together with...a pair of handcuffs.

"What the fuck, Niall?!" Harry cried out, attempting to grab his best friend. But Niall was quick to run across the room and Harry nearly fell head over heels when Y/N pulled him right back.

"Work things out and I'll let you go," Niall said with a big smile on his face. Meanwhile, on the couch, Layla was trying her best to contain her laughter.

"Where the fuck did you even get these handcuffs?!" Harry's reaction made Niall laugh.

"Treasure found them in your drawer."

"Good girl," Layla told the cat while stroking her head. The innocent little creature didn't understand what was going on between her parents. So she purred happily and seemed so proud of herself.

"I have dinner with the Colemans and my dad tonight!" Harry freaked out, gripping his own hair. Ironically, he was the one who had come up with this idea to have dinner with Jack's family. He thought it'd be a nice way apology for the broken deal. They hadn't signed any contract or violated any terms, but this was for the best if they were gonna do business together in the future. It was probably too late to call it off now.

While Harry was worried as hell, Y/N tossed her head back and burst out laughing. Apparently, Jack had forgot to tell her that as well.

"Why am I not surprised that I'm not invited?" She said sarcastically, making Harry scoff.

"I had to kiss my father's ass for you. Don't try to be smart here."

When he snarled at her, a part of him could see it wasn't the right thing to do. She wasn't the entire reason he was mad. It was everything. He'd been living under stress in the past week, trying to convince Devlin to relocate the firm. He didn't receive any help so he had to take care of the paperworks and figure out everything on his own. The least thing she could do for him was try to understand why he'd done it and kept it from her. But instead, she turned on him too.

And then came the thing with Jack.

Harry always knew she had a soft spot for Jack. And he only turned a blind eye to it because they were married now. But when she said Jack told her about Styles Co., the situation came to a head. She was supposed to be on his team. He made one mistake and she chose to blame him instead of work on this with him. So yes, Harry was mad, really mad.

"Where do you keep the key?" He turned to ask his wife, who seemed rather startled as she shook her head fast.

"What makes you think I have the key?"

"The last time we—" Harry stopped in the middle of his sentence as Layla and Niall both raised their eyebrows at him. Awkwardly, he cleared his throat and turned back to Y/N, his face screwed up in concern. "So...you don't know where it is?"

"Jesus Christ," Y/N muttered under her breath. At this point, she was so done with freaking out. The last time they got stuck in a pair of handcuffs together, she actually went insane and expected only the worst. But now after five years living together, she wasn't even surprised that they would end up in this situation again, non-voluntarily.

"Wait, you guys don't know where the key is?"

"What the fuck, Niall? Is this a game to you?!" Harry raised his voice.

Layla was trying not to laugh as she didn't want to add fuel to the flames. Niall, however, puckered up his lips, his face darkened in guilt. He really should've considered this outcome the moment he came up with the idea.

"This went south a bit faster than I expected," Y/N mumbled to herself, rolling her eyes. "I guess I'm coming with you to that dinner."

"No, you aren't."

"Seriously, H? Now isn't the time to—"

"I don't want my dad to say mean things to you, alright?"

That statement left Y/N speechless. She licked her upper lip as her facial expression softened, like the look in his eyes when he stared at her. That was the moment she knew her Harry had returned. Who was she kidding though? He'd always been her Harry. He might've got mad and said something he didn't mean, but she hadn't been right either.

"I don't care. This is the least I can do for you." She pressed her lips into a smile then reached out to intertwine their fingers. They temporarily forgot about the big issue right under their noses, until Niall broke the silence with a loud 'aww'.

"But look on the bright side," he said. "If I had the key, I would release you guys already."

"Shut up, Niall!" The couple screamed at the same time, causing their friend to quickly run and hide in the kitchen. They would've killed him already, but they needed to get out of these handcuffs first.

"How much time do we have until the dinner with your dad?" Y/N asked her husband, staring at the clock on the wall.

"Uhm...half an hour, maybe less."

"Okay. We've got half an hour or less to look for the key."

"What if we still can't find it?" Niall questioned, poking his head through the kitchen door. The nervous couple looked at the metal cuffs linking their wrists together. They didn't want to say it, so Layla had to.

"Then Mr. Harry CEO Styles has to see his dad and the Colemans in his ugly band tee."

.

.

.

Accidents happened all the time, and that was always a great excuse for something that didn't go as planned. However, showing up at a five-star restaurant in an old t-shirt while being handcuffed to your wife, just wasn't the case. Who would believe something like that could be 'an accident'?

"But it is!"

"Really, Harry? Really?" Devlin huffed as he glanced from left to right. He wanted to make sure nobody paid attention to his son's appearance. "You expect me to believe you rolled out of bed and fell into these handcuffs with your wife?"

"No, but—"

"Please sit down. If you cannot show up looking like a CEO, at least act like one."

Harry and Y/N shared a look when Devlin stormed back to his chair. Without another word, they joined the man at the table. Y/N noticed Harry's frown and leaned in to whisper to him, "at least he called me your wife, so yay?"

Her little grin left one on his face as well. Somehow she always managed to make the best of a terrible situation, but Harry knew this relief wasn't gonna last. He nodded slightly, yet said nothing as the waiter arrived with their menus. Neither one of them was hungry anyway, so they just let Devlin order whatever he wanted for them both. The waiter noted it all down, then shot Harry a judging stare before walking off.

"Even that waiter could tell what a mess you are."

Normally when Devlin said something like that Harry would apologize and ignore. But this was a different time now. He was trapped in a handcuff, as if it wasn't bad enough. He didn't have any energy left to act as his dad pleased.

"How can I take off this shirt with these handcuffs in the way?" He scoffed, resting his chin on his knuckles. "I'd prefer a better suggestion than having my own hand cut off. Thank you very much."

Devlin was taken aback by that response. It was actually the first time Harry had talked to him like that. And of course, he wasn't tolerant of such disrespectful attitude from his own son.

"You shouldn't have got yourself handcuffed in the first place!" He lashed out. "You're almost twenty five and you're about to lead a company. But here you are, looking like a college student with a rock band living in his mother's garage!"

"Please shut up."

This time, Devlin's eyes almost popped right out of his head. Y/N also turned to her husband with a wide-eyed look. She never would've expected him to say something like that. The Harry who had lived his entire life looking up to his father wasn't there anymore.

"For once." He lifted a finger, eyebrows creased as he looked straight into the man's eyes. "For fucking once, I just want you to be a normal dad."

That one sentence put Devlin to silence. He sat there in disbelief, mouth slightly opened. Still Harry neglected his father's expression as he carried on. "When we stepped in here in this situation, you didn't even ask how it happened. All you cared about was that I was here to embarrass you, and you couldn't stop talking down on me for it. To prove your fucking point. But guess what? I'm in charge of Styles Co. now. So if you cannot respect me as your son, you're gonna have to respect me as the CEO of your firm."

It wasn't until Harry had finished his last sentence that he realized what he'd just said. He was paralyzed, but so was Devlin. Judging from the look on his old man's face, Harry assumed whatever he'd blurted out must have worked. Y/N flashed him an encouraging smile, and now he felt more powerful than ever.

Five minutes later, Jack showed up. Both Harry and Y/N were relieved to find out he'd come alone. Apparently, Jack's father was in New York for an urgent meeting, and couldn't make it back tonight. If he'd come, he would've had a heart attack to see the future CEO of Styles Co. dressed like this to a fancy dinner. Not to mention the handcuffs. But thank God it was only Jack. This man had already been to their wedding. Nothing could shock him more.

"I've got the same Gun And Roses shirt at home. Yours looks great." He chuckled, pointing to Harry's black t-shirt. Devlin's reaction to that compliment was just priceless.

"I got it from a thrift store. Pretty sick, right?" Harry chuckled as Jack sat himself down. Now that he was here, the atmosphere had really lightened up. They (except for Devlin) shared a good laugh when Harry and Y/N explained the handcuffs. The couple made sure to leave out the reasons for their fight, not wanting Jack to feel like it was his fault.

Once the food had been served, they topic was switched to business. Y/N couldn't be more surprised by how her husband took charge of the conversation like a pro. He was usually a man of few words around Jack — someone he'd always considered his competition. Seeing him like this, so confidence, so sure of himself and what he wanted for his company, Y/N was over the moon. All she did for the rest of that evening, was sit there with her chin on her knuckles, and admire her husband with massive heart eyes.

As for Devlin, Harry's previous words kept replaying in his head. After sitting quietly throughout Jack and Harry's discussion, it occurred to him that he'd really underestimated his own son. He always knew Harry was smart, which was why he wanted to pass on the company to his boy. But what he seemed to forget was, Harry wasn't a boy anymore. He was a man. And now a boss. Maybe it was time for Devlin to take a step back and accept that his empire was in good hands. And maybe, it was also time he finally learnt how to be 'a normal dad'.

"Harry," he spoke after Jack had already left. Now they were standing right outside the restaurant, and it was raining a little bit. Harry and Y/N didn't have an umbrella so they had to cover themselves with Harry's jacket. They seemed to get quite impatient when Devlin began to stutter.

"Uhm, can you hurry up?" Harry áked, glancing skyward. "We kind of need to walk home."

"Well...I...uh..." The older man struggled to find the right words to phrase his thoughts. He was fidgeting with his car keys and Harry noticed right away. It was something he took after his father. The Styles men could never hide their true feelings, and they both found it hard to communicate how they felt. Harry had improved so much thanks to Y/N, but for someone like Devlin. He needed more time.

Without a warning, Harry wrapped his free arm around Devlin's shoulders, pulling the man into a hug.

"It's okay, dad," he said. "I forgive you."

Devlin was as stiff as a pole, but Harry refused to let go. So eventually, the older Styles had to adjust to the unfamiliar affection and lift an arm to pat Harry on the back.

"Hope to see you at work sometimes." Harry smiled as he pulled away and took his wife's hand. Y/N said nothing more than a goodbye to Devlin, but all it took was her soft beam to melt his almost stone cold heart. As Devlin watched the happy couple walk away, hand in hand, his chapped lips curved into a subtle grin. He couldn't deny it anymore. What he'd seen, had got to be true love.

.

.

.

"What you did back there was so hot!"

"Yeah?" Harry's face lit up at his wife's compliment. They kept on walking with his jacket above their heads to cover themselves from the rain. He leaned in to kiss her cheek. One simple peck was enough to keep them both warm in this awful weather. "And what did I do exactly?" He asked with a cheeky grin.

"You showed up looking like a mess, but when you started speaking, you were a boss," she told him, resting her head on his shoulder. "You also put your dad in his place. God, you were so hot."

"When we've finished with the relocation process, you're gonna see boss Harry everyday, baby."

"I can't believe you just called yourself that."

"That's so hot, right?" He mocked her voice, making her dissolve into laughter while clinging onto him.

The rain was heavier now, but the couple were too full of joy to even care about their hair gradually getting soaked. They had grown used to the feeling of the cuffs and almost forgot they were there, until Harry moved his constraint hand to hug her waist, accidentally bending her wrist.

"Ouch!"

"Sorry, love! You okay?"

"I'm fine." She hissed, glancing down at their little problem. "Ugh, I cannot wait to get out of these. Do you think Niall and Layla already found the key?"

"Yeah. It has to be in our bedroom somewhere. I mean, the last time we—"

"Stop!" She quickly covered his mouth as both of them started to giggle. He removed her hand quickly and raised an eyebrow. It was funny how fast her face turned red though they were the only two people there.

"I was gonna say the last time we got stuck in these handcuffs five years ago. What were you thinking about?"

"No, you weren't, liar!" She glared at him, smiling for she knew he knew exactly what he was talking about. "But yeah, that was a fun experience."

"Ha!"

"I was talking about five years ago!" She scoffed, smacking him on the arm.

"Jokes aside, I agree. That was one of the happiest days of my life," Harry broke the silence which only lasted for a few seconds. Y/N turned to him, eyes sparked with joy as she asked him if he was serious. She'd always thought he used to hate her then.

Nodding fast, Harry said, "believe it or not, I had like the biggest crush on you and I didn't know how to ask you out...without actually asking you out."

"So you intentionally handcuffed yourself to me?" Y/N dropped her jaw, pointing a finger to her face. She looked so freaked out that it was impossible for him not to laugh.

"No! That was an accident, I swear!" Harry guffawed. "But I've never regretted it. I'm gonna tell our kids I married their mother because I handcuffed her to myself."

"Honey, only one of us is allowed to be the bad parent. Don't compete with me," Y/N joked, laughing along with him.

As they kept on walking, the rain kept falling harder. At this point, Harry's jacket had become useless, but they were too carefree to mind water dripping down from their head to toes.

"Wanna hear the truth?" she asked, holding on to his arm by her side. Harry didn't even know what that truth was about, yet he nodded so fast his head might just fall off. Y/N flashed him a grin and went on, "you thought you needed the handcuff to spend time with me, but all you needed to do was ask."

"Really?"

"Yup. I also had a huge crush on you." She covered her face shyly, making his heart flutter and his mouth spread into the brightest beam.

"I was such an idiot," he said.

"I agree." Her response made both of them chuckle. Quickly, she added, "my point is that, our marriage is not different from these handcuffs."

"Wow, it's that bad for you?"

"I'm trying to be serious here." She snorted and he quickly apologized and told her to continue. "Where was I? Oh right, marriage and handcuffs. So, our marriage is also like these handcuffs, right?"

"Right." He nodded, pressing his lips together to hold back another joke, otherwise she'd kill him.

"Even though we're trapped together and cannot easily escape, it doesn't mean without this link I will walk away from you. Even if we weren't husband and wife, I'd still be there for you through it all. We're in this together, and no matter how bad the situation is, we're gonna work through it. Together." She raised both eyebrows at him. At this point, he finally saw where she was hinting at.

"I'm sorry, love," he told her with a guilty smile. "I thought if I'd told you the truth you'd leave your job for me. So I decided to persuade my dad to let me relocate the company. I was gonna tell you when everything was done, but...you heard it first from someone else. And...I'm really sorry."

"It's alright." She nodded slowly. "But never again, kay? From now on we make all decisions together."

"Definitely." Harry was so happy that they'd got everything figured out. But he was wrong to think she would let him off the hook that easily. It only took her a five second pause to bring up what he hope she'd forgot.

"Why were you so angry about me hearing it from Jack?" She arched a brow, sticking up her nose.

"B-Because his family wanted the company and—"

"Cut the crap, I know when you're lying," she said, pressing a finger to his cheek. "When you lie you bat your eyelashes a lot."

Harry didn't even notice until Y/N pointed it out. Now he wondered how long she'd kept that from him. Last week, he told her he'd already given Treasure a bath, did she know it was a lie too? Did she let him get away with it? Jesus, how many times have I been played? I didn't lie that much, did I?

"Harry!" Y/N snapped her fingers in front of his face to pull him back to Earth. Harry blew up his cheeks, now that it'd come to this, he had no choice but to tell her what he hated to admit to even himself.

"I don't know...I always feel like...like Jack is a better version of me..."

"What? That's silly, H!"

"It's just..." Harry groaned, tossing his head back. "He's older and more successful...and...ugh...you seem to like him a lot."

"I—"

He quickly pointed a finger to her nose, squinting his eyes right at her. "Don't lie and say there's not at least one second that you actually had feelings for him."

Y/N stayed silent, taking Harry's hand and pulling it away from her face. All of a sudden, Harry wished he'd never said anything at all. The last thing he wanted to hear was—

"You're right."

No, no, no...

"There might've been a few moments that I felt something there," she said, watching anxiety clouded his features. He thought his heart might break. But then she stopped walking and pulled him closer. The rain had lessened and was coming to a stop, so they didn't mind anymore. "You know why?"

He pouted, trying not to look at her as he mumbled, "because he's so—"

"He's so much like you, that's why." That answer had got Harry's full attention. His eyebrows snapped together and his mouth fell opened. Now he was just gawking her. "At first I was scared because I thought I was catching feelings for someone else, but when I found out the reason, I was actually happy. I realize I'm always gonna see a bit of you everywhere I go. That's how much I love you. And even though you and Jack have so much in common, he's still Jack. He's not my Harry. He'll never be my Harry."

Y/N watched the grin grow on Harry's lips as she ran her fingers through his wet locks, pulling his face down to kiss him slowly. The wind was cold against their skin but the fire within already kept them warm.

"You're right, we do have a lot in common," he spoke once they pulled away. "I mean, he did compliment my t-shirt."

Y/N couldn't help but cackle at how fast his mood had changed. "Wow, should I be worried you're growing too fond of my boss?"

"If you're not worried about me cheating on you with Niall, then you shouldn't be worried about anyone else." It came out as a joke, but Y/N was the only one laughing. The smile dimmed on Harry's face the second his best friend's name left his lips. Immediately, he took Y/N's hand and dragged her along, giving her no time to question for she must hurry up to catch up with him.

Harry had only two things on his mind now. First, they’d get out of these handcuffs. Then, he’d kill Niall.

.

.

.

"All credit goes to Treasure. She found the key under your bed, you kinky sluts," said Layla who unlocked the handcuffs and tossed them onto the couch. With two hands on her hips, she gave them both a smile and asked how the dinner went.

"It was great!" Y/N said even though she was standing in the middle of her living room, dripping with rainwater. "Jack's father couldn't come so only Ja—"

"Niall, you have five seconds."

The girls turned to Harry as they were both confused by his words. Niall, on the other hand, knew exactly what his best friend meant. He quickly hid behind Layla, trying his best to come up with a good argument to defend himself.

"Think about it! If I hadn't done this you two would—"

"Four...three..."

"Are you serious?"

"Two."

"What the fuck happened to one?!"

Niall screamed and ran as fast as he could while Harry chased him around the flat. Both of them nearly tripped over a table before they made it through the door. From here, Layla and Y/N could hear Niall screaming in the hallway, and also Mason shouting at them "do you know what time it is, you fucking psychos?!"

"Aren't you gonna do something?" Y/N asked her best friend who looked even calmer than she was.

"Nope." Layla popped the 'p' sound in an amusing way. "Niall's been with me long enough. He'll survive." Then she turned to Y/N, her nose wrinkled as she finally realized something. "Shit. I can't believe your manchild is gonna run his own company."

Y/N could've sworn her jaw hurt from smiling that big.

"Yup." She nodded proudly. "That's my manchild."

[gothsung]

Red string of fate |Han Jisung|

Hanxreader Soulmate! AU

"When will I ever find my soulmate" the young girl whined and she twirled the string on her right pinky.

"I don't know... now get out of my room because you are annoying me." The older girl said.

"Well you should be thankful for my presence I have blessed you with!" The younger pouted.

"Alright, whatever just get out." The older said dismissively as her younger sister exited the room. She was currently working on a painting she had been working on for almost 2 days already. This painting was of a guy she had seen in her dreams. She theorizes that this may be her soulmate so she decided to paint him for the heck of it. She had painted him like a portrait, surrounded by nature. Sunflowers were in the corners of the painting and the rest of the background was just a simple landscape. She was almost done finishing off his hair when her phone rang. She sighed, put down her brush and picked up her phone.

"Hello?"

"Hey Y/n. I'm bored and I wanna go shopping... and I kinda don't wanna go alone... because you know. Yeah... Can you please go with me?" Her friend, Hyunjin asked her.

"Well I mean... I guess. I am working on a painting right now so I will go ahead and get ready after I finish. I just need one more thing to add to it so I will be done shortly. I'll text you when i'm ready" Y/n answered.

"Okay. Thank you you are honestly a life saver."

"Alright, welp i guess I'll see you then Hyuhyu"

"Yup, bye y/n/n" they both ended their calls. Y/n picked up her brush and began adding the last touches to her painting. When she finished, she sat up from her seat and went to her closet. She chose to wear a plaided yellow button up shirt that fit her pretty lose, a white shirt underneath, and black skinny jeans and the button up was tucked inside her jeans. She then went on to put on some simple make up and a simple necklace. She went with some simple black combat boots and she was finally ready. She then texted Hyunjin.

(Ignore the top focus on the bottom)

She ran downstairs and waited in the living room for Hyunjjn. "Hey mom, I'm gonna go with Hyunjin to the mall". She said to her mom who was in the kitchen.

"Oh, okay have fun!" Her mom said. The doorbell then rang. Y/n went to the door, knowing it was Hyunjin.

"Sup loser" Hyunjin said to the shorter girl.

"Sup hoe. Now let's go to the mall." Y/n saidn as she exited the house. They both headed to Hyunjin's car that was parked in the drive way. We both entered the car and started heading to the mall. The ride was full of talking about Got7, EXO, and soulmate talk.

"Wait. What if I meet my soulmate at the mall..." Y/n added to the conversation.

"Well I mean it's possible. I mean I met Seungmin at school, which is the least romantic thing possible, so the mall is definitely more romantic than a prison that just forces students to memorize answers from an old text book."

"Oof. You right" they both then just began to talk about random stuff. Hyunjin parked the car when they got to the mall and both headed inside.

"Let's go to Forever 21!" Hyunjin said excitedly as he dragged Y/n to the store.

"SKSKS calm your man tiddies Hyuhyu!" Y/n said as her friend dragged her. Hyunjin looked through all the clothes and found nothing. "These clothes are very shitty." Hyunjin said.

"They are as shitty as your attitude..." Y/n said under her breath.

"Fuck you too bitch" Hyunjin said. They bothe left the store and looked for more stores to shop at. "Come on! This is a great place to take a picture!" Hyunjin said as he dragged his friend to a mural painted wall. He handed her his phone and he posed. They stopped the mini photo shoot and continued walking around the mall. They went to Hot Topic, a Anime store, a K-pop store, chocolate store, some more clothes stores and they went ahead and took some aesthetic pictures.

"Hyuhyu! Let's go to that one music store! I want a new guitar. The one I have is like 10 years old." Y/n said.

"Alright you nerd." He said. They both walked to the music store. Y/n was browsing through the guitars and Hyunjin was on his phone texting Seungmin. Y/n then felt a tug on her right pinky where her string was at.

"Hyuhyu? Is it normal to feel a tug on your string?" Y/n asked her friend.

"I don't know I mean me and Seungmin just bumped into each other on accident and boom! Romance blossomed" Hyunjin said, still on his phone.

"Oh... okay..." Y/n said. She got curious as the tugging continued and she followed her string. The string began growing smaller at every step she took. The next thing she knew she was right beside the guy in her dreams. He looked down on her with a shocked expression.

"Uh... hi. I'm Y/n" Y/n said awkwardly.

"Oh. Umm... I'm Ham, I mean Han. Han Jisung." The boy said nervously. They were both silent for a while, looking at their connected string. "So... um... we soulmates i guess." Jisung said to her.

"Haha... yeah..." Y/n laughed awkwardly. They stood there in silence again. Both teenagers were blushing and a bit awkward with each other.

"So... uh, you wanna go for a coffee sometime??" Jisung asked, breaking the silence.

"Uh, yeah. Oh wait, you need my number right?"

"Yeah I will kind of be needing that" Jisung laughed nervously. They both gave each other their numbers. Hyunjin looked at the two newfound lovers from a distance, snapping pictures and sending them to his boyfriend.

"WOOH! MY BESTIE GONNA BE GETTING THAT D TONIGHT!" Hyunjin screamed in the store, causing people to stare at him. Y/n cringed at his statement. "I'm sorry I don't know him." She said to Jisung.

"It's fine" Jisung laughed. 'Oh no... his laugh is cute' Y/n thought.

"Well... uh... I kinda gotta go look at the guitars so I guess I'll talk to you later?" Y/n said.

"Oh you play the guitar?" Jisung asked. Y/n nodded to his question. "I do too! I could help you look for one. Of you don't mind, of course."

"I don't mind. I needed help with picking the guitar anyways." Both Y/n and Han walked to the guitars. She talked about what guitar she had in mind and Jisung suggested some while gesturing to the guitar he was talking about. Y/n finally chose on a guitar and went ahead a bought it with a case (of course). Hyunjin watched them from a distance, already creating a ship name and fanfiction.

"Well it was really nice meeting you Jisung. Thank you for helping me with my guitar." Y/n said, as she and Hyunjin were about to leave for the day.

"Yeah, no problem. It was really nice meeting you too. Is there any day you are free for the coffee date?" Jisung asked.

"Umm... well tomorrow I am free. Is tomorrow fine?"

"Yup. Tomorrow is perfectly fine. I guess I'll see you then?"

"Mhm! Definitely tomorrow. Well, I gotta go, Hyunjin can be kind of impatient at times. See you!" Y/n said, as she walked away from Jisung with Hyunjin two steps ahead of her.

"Tomorrow?! Jisung asked/screamed as Y/n left. Y/n then turned around and began walking backwards.

"Tomorrow!" She yelled back at him.

"Okay! See you Tomorrow!" Jisung yelled again. She giggled at his previous actions and turned the other way (she was previously walking backwards)

"He's a keeper" Hyunjin said, while he was on his phone.

"I know"

Part 2??

[shawnsorangeglasses]

Better Conversations - Part 3

2.3k words

Get you some tea, it’s BC Part 3

Hello yellow, you gotta read part 2 if you haven’t already. Better yet, here’s the masterlist.

It feels like the whole world has gotten wrapped up in Shawn’s appearance with (Y/N) in the streets of New York. She faces some consequences.

warnings: a little dramatic, sweeter ending

......................

News of Shawn’s mystery “girlfriend” caught fire and spread rapidly across all social media platforms. Fans were either happy, suspicious, or appalled. No matter what they felt about it, young girls from all over the world began to analyze and pick apart pictures of them together in the streets of New York. The group of fans they met at the diner took a video of their meeting with Shawn and that only stirred up some more talk online as well. There were screenshots and red circles and literal YouTube videos on this. It’s not like (Y/N) and Shawn were caught holding hands or making out, but all the gossips sites wasted no words and no time getting their articles out for clicks.

The video of them only caught her from the chest down, a snippet of her voice, and Shawn’s full body sat at the lunch counter. Some people were kind enough to comment that whoever this mystery girl was had really nice legs. That seemed to be the only positive aspect in all the chaos.

Bea, (Y/N)’s sister, only recognized her because of her clothes, specifically the boots she always wore. She was just as confused and shocked as the rest of the world when she called. It took about ten minutes to calm her down and explain the whole mess.

Shawn still had to leave for Toronto that night. Goodbyes weren’t even an option. His people wanted him and him alone at the airport, which (Y/N) understood. In her mind, she had already caused enough trouble.

Miraculously enough, not one person had been able to place (Y/N)’s face or social identity. She never really posted pictures of herself online and rarely allowed anyone to take a picture of her and post it without permission. Her Instagram page only had three posts, all city photography, and her profile picture only displayed a solitary bumblebee doodle. For a while, it seemed like the damage would repair itself. (Y/N) thought she may have been in the clear.

Then she woke up. More photos were published. Her phone had ten missed calls. Eight from Jason and two from Lawrence Derringer, the head executive of his branch. (Y/N) prepared for the worst.

It was Sunday by now. The Jason and Mr. Derringer opened up their offices just to talk to her in the conference room. She wore the most conservative outfit she could find in her closet.

“Ms. (Y/L/N), are you aware of the story that has surfaced about you and Mr. Shawn Mendes in the news?”

“Yes Mr. Derringer, but I can explain. Nothing happened at all between Shawn and me. I would never get involved with a client in that fashion, and as far as I know, they never even got a picture of my face.”

“I’m afraid you’re mistaken, Ms. (Y/L/N).” They present a laptop screen to her, opened to a TMZ article with her and Shawn stood at the gemstone pop-up shop. Her face is clear and visible. “This was published eight hours ago,” Jason mumbles.

“I know your intentions must have been pure, Ms. (Y/L/N). What I’m struggling to understand is why you never questioned any of the endeavors you had with Mr. Mendes. Harmless as they may have been, this could have a negative effect on our firm’s relationship with him as well as our image in the industry. Did this not occur to you when you realized you were being photographed? Surely it must have.”

(Y/N) doesn’t answer, right away. Saying no, would have been a lie. She did consider the possibility of them getting a little publicity, but she didn’t think so far ahead about how that might affect the company.

“I suppose you’re going to have to fire me then?”

Mr. Derringer glances at Jason, then back at (Y/N). “Fortunately, no. You will not be fired for this. Apparently, Shawn called our offices several times last night trying to get a hold of one of us. He managed to reach me and said the day out was his all idea and that you should not be fired for the events that followed.”

“So, I’m not in trouble?”

“Well yes and no. I told him you would keep your job but that does not mean you can get off without some repercussions. Since Whitman was the one who hired you, I figured he should be the one to enforce that.”

Jason steps forward, looking like he was trying so hard to be authoritative in front of his superior. “I made the decision to prohibit you from attending any future corporate events where Shawn or any other Island Records artist may also attend. It’s probably for the best that you don’t see Mr. Mendes anymore in public for any reason. Your recent promotion has also been revoked as well and your salary will revert back to the earnings you made prior to said promotion.”

(Y/N)’s jaw set, keeping her tongue from saying everything she wanted to spit in his stupid Ivy League face. Everything she’s wanted to say to him for the past eight months feels like holding acid in the back of her throat. She swallowed her thoughts.

“I understand. My sincerest apologies, Mr. Derringer. It won’t happen again.”

“I certainly hope not, Ms. (Y/L/N). You’re a valued member of our staff and you contribute so much to the floor and the board. It’d be a shame to lose you over something like this. Jason will see you out. Have a good evening.”

(Y/N) is already at the elevator smashing the down button before Jason can even make it down the hall. Tears of humiliation sting her eyes as the elevator slowly takes her and Jason down from the top floor. He tries to lay a hand on her shoulder, apologetically, but she shrugs it off and steps further from him. If he was sorry, it only because he felt like he had to be, not because he actually was.

“Are you seriously pissed at me? You brought this on yourself.”

“You have no right to try and keep me from seeing him or anyone.”

“That’s what you think this is about? Maybe you ought to think twice before sleeping your way through our list of clients.”

Of course, it’s all my fault that I didn’t feel like eating alone one afternoon.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware going to lunch with one man is the equivalent to shoving my tongue down his throat.”

“You might as well have been, the way you were smiling at each other in those pictures.”

“I knew it. I knew you had a problem with me seeing other people. You can go and fuck every girl in Times Square if you want, but I have to sit idly by like your personal dumping ground?”

“You can see whoever you want. Just not him. You should know better. This firm—”

“Like you give a damn about the firm. This is about you and your fat ego. You can’t handle the fact that somebody might even be a little interested in me because you know that as soon as I find someone who actually gives a damn about me, I won’t have a reason to come back to you for a goddamned quickie in the janitor’s closet.”

“It’s that kind of thinking that keeps you behind that desk.”

(Y/N) falls silent. No more words are spoken. There was no use in trying to argue or be right. Jason was jealous again. He’d done this once before when another coworker, someone on (Y/N)’s pay grade, showed interest in her. The elevator doors finally open and she treads heavily out the front doors, never looking back.

…………………..

(Y/N) spent the rest of the evening wrapped in her bed sheets, at first crying with her makeup still on, then eating leftovers and watching Criminal Minds reruns. Hearing Dr. Reid talk about m.o.’s calmed her down. She’d turned her phone off hours ago just to get some peace. Family and friends were calling and texting her non-stop yesterday evening about her appearance with Shawn. At the time it was too much to handle with possibility of getting fired still looming over her head. But now with the worst over, (Y/N) figured she should probably check her notifications for anything important.

Through all the messages from cousins and people who barely knew her, one single text from Shawn floated to the very top.

[please call me]

He sent it about an hour after (Y/N)’s meeting with Mr. Derringer. It’s 1 AM now but Shawn was in LA. She checks the time zones first then finds his contact and presses the call button. He picks up on the first ring.

“Hey, are you okay?”

(Y/N) grins for the first time today, more than happy to hear that soft voice again. “I should be asking you that. Every news outlet has a story on you. And me, I guess.”

“Yeah but are you okay?”

It sounds like he’d been waiting to ask her this question all day. Technically, (Y/N) was okay, but she could be better, given the circumstances. She chooses her next words carefully.

“I…I will be. I didn’t get fired if that’s what you mean. Thank you for that by the way.”

“I’m so sorry. I said everything would be fine and I should have known this would happen.”

“It’s not your fault. People aren’t that crazy about it. Your fans are being relatively nice to me, now that they know my face.”

“They know your face?”

“Yeah. More photos came out this morning.”

Shawn goes quiet for a moment. It sounds like he’s moving into another room away from the chatter in the background. “Could we video chat?” The new echo of his voice sounds like he’s moved into the bathroom.

(Y/N) looked at her reflection in the mirror on the wall across the room. Dramatic streaks of mascara still trailed down her cheeks and her eyes were still very red. She should say no, but she desperately wants to see his face. And this technically didn’t go against Jason’s stupid new rules for her.

“Give me a minute.”

She washes her face in the bathroom the best she can. Her eyes are still red when she’s done. Fuck it, she thinks. Maybe he won’t notice.

(Y/N) flops back down on her bed and opens the app. Shawn’s face pops up on her screen, riddled with concern. He’s sat in the bathtub, one in a hotel probably, wearing a white t-shirt, hair fluffy and wild without its gel. One “s” curl fell on his forehead.

Unfortunately, he does notice. “You’ve been crying?”

(Y/N) bites her lip. “Maybe.”

Shawn doesn’t speak. He just wants to look at the girl on his screen. The truth is he didn’t really have a good reason to facetime her other than just wanting to see her again. He was so sure that she would never want to talk to him again after all of this.

“I want to know why, but you don’t have to tell me,” he says.

“No, it’s alright. I’m not fired but I am never allowed to be seen in public with you again as long as I work there.” (Y/N) sniffles. “Which is fucking stupid.”

“So quit,” he mutters. The words leave his mouth before he can think twice about saying them.

“Quit?”

“I mean—I’m kidding, that’s not what I meant. God, that sounded really bad.”

“It did,” she says through a smile. “But I have thought about it. About a year ago actually.”

“What changed your mind?”

“I met someone. At work. We’re not a real couple but...” (Y/N) realizes she doesn’t have an appropriate label for whatever she and Jason are, but Shawn seems to understand. “I wasn’t trying to get ahead. I did actually like him once upon a time. But he never wanted to be anything more with me. Then he became my boss and things just moved under the table.”

Shawn thinks this time before speaking. “Was it that guy you were with at the party?”

“Damn, you’re good. How much of that did you see?”

“I saw when he tried to get you to dance. And when he was at the bar.”

“Well if this music thing ever bombs—it won’t—you should be a detective.”

Shawn gives her a weak smile. A piece of his heart broke a little when she admitted to being in a relationship, albeit a noncommittal and toxic one. Someone already had her heart and her eyes.

“Do you still love him?”

(Y/N) thinks about it for second. Love? It seemed so unattainable for her at this point. At the start, Jason was romantic but never with the usual gestures. Just clever lines and secret lunch dates on the rooftop. Then one day he just stopped. Looking back, it doesn’t seem like love anymore. Just regular sneaking around. “I don’t think we ever made it to the love stage of it all.”

Shawn slouches down into the tub more, forcing his long legs out and his feet up on the tiled wall in front of him.

“I take it back. Maybe you should quit.”

(Y/N) blinks at him. “Very funny. I may be unhappy, but I still have bills to pay. That bastard docked my salary too, so I’ll be working double shifts again.”

“No, I’m serious, (Y/N). If you go in tomorrow and put it your two weeks’ notice, you can have a job as my assistant.”

She sits up in her bed, not believing a word of what those bright pink lips were telling her. “I thought we we’re joking when we talked about that.”

He shrugs. “I wasn’t.”

“Doesn’t there have to be a few more conversations with a few more people before you just bring a new person on board?”

“I’ll talk to Andrew tonight,” he promises. “He knows who you are, and I’ve told him how hard you work.”

“I’d have to think about it Shawn. That’s a big leap.”

“I know, but I do mean it. You have a job waiting for you whenever you want it.”

(Y/N) tried feel good about this, but everything about working for Shawn scared her. She knew his intentions were good but there was more risk than that. What if she fell into the same hole she did with Jason? What would fans say? What would people think?

“I call you when I have an answer.”

......................

taglist:

@spider-mendes @sebsdreamboat @innositer

[buckyscrystalqueen]

The Unexpected Protector: Part 5

Pairings: Negan x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Abuse,  Domestic Violence. Angst

Word Count: 7,310

A/N: HEED THE WARNINGS!!!!!! DON’T COME CRYING IF YOU DON’T!

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had no idea how it was possible, but Negan had more patience than any person you had ever met before in your life. He rarely left your side in that first week you were home, and if he did, it was only during your bed bath time, where he simply headed up to the den to take care of the little work that his brother Joey, who you learned was the Mafia’s underboss, needed Negan’s approval on before following through with, so you had some privacy. He was attentive to every single need you had, usually before you even realized you needed them yourself. He made sure that Gretchen and two of her fellow hospital employees, Sam and Daisy, were on top of their game with changing bandages, and repositioning your legs on the pillows and your left arm on the pillow sling every four to six hours like they were supposed to. He had your recovery working like a well oiled machine. Which you grateful for, honestly. 

You found yourself playing Monopoly with the TV on in the background. You had just put a hotel not only on Boardwalk but beside your house on Park Place and you were starting to think that Negan was letting you win.

‘You’re cheating, aren’t you?’ You wrote as Negan took some of your money for the bank to pay for the hotel.

“Not cheating.” He chuckled. You made as close to a hum noise as you could and tapped the marker against the board to repeat your point. He swiped the dice off the board and jostled them in his left palm as he offered you a drink of water seconds before you were about to ask for it. 

“This is NBC News at six with James Riley and Maxine Smith. Our top story tonight. The body of police chief Christian Wilson was recovered from the Hudson River early this morning only hours after the security video of him assaulting his ex-wife surfaced on the internet. Police say…” You didn’t hear the rest of the story as your right hand flew out and grabbed Negan’s wrist as tight as you could.

“Easy, baby girl.” He said softly.

“Was this you?” You grit out as best as you could as your eyes filled with tears of mixed emotions. You ripped your eyes away from the TV to look at him as he very subtly shook his head. He picked up your white board off your leg and scooted so you could read what he wrote as he wrote and erased it at the same time.

‘Not that… but I may or may not have had a hand in finding the hacker that “broke in” to your security system before I had Big Sam fix the hole he hacked through.’ He looked up at you as he wiped the rest of his message away with his thumb and set the white board and the marker down on your lap. You started to choke on your sobs as you grabbed his shirt and frantically pulled him toward you.

“Thank you.” You sobbed as you wrapped your good arm around him and tangled your fingers in his hair.

“Of course, baby girl. But you gotta stop crying. Gretchie ain’t fucking here and I’m not doing the fucking snot sucker thing.” You huffed a laugh and nodded as he kissed your shoulder and pulled back to grab you a couple tissues. He leaned back to look at you and gently wiped your nose as you reached up to run your fingertips across his cheek. There was so much you wanted to say to him and your face fell the slightest bit since you weren’t able to.

“I love you, too.” He said as he looked up into your green eyes and let his hand fall to the bed. He smiled and chuckled as he tilted his head to the side to study your confused face. “I fucking know everything, baby girl. Don’t give me that look. And I may have overheard you and Jade talking about love and shit yesterday. Well… her half of the conversation at least.” You scowled and gently flicked his nose in response. 

“How about this. Until you can say it out loud, I won’t either. Sound good?” You nodded as you wiped a lone tear off your cheek with the tissues. “OK. By the way, it’s your fucking role, slacker.” You rolled your eyes and held your hand out for the dice as you flipped him off as best as you could with your braced left hand. “Just roll the fucking dice.”

——

“What does this mean?” You asked your new lawyer, James Preston, who was not only Negan’s lawyer, but the best lawyer in Manhattan, as you flipped through the subpoena that had been dropped off that morning. You looked up at him through finally unswollen eyes with your eyebrow raised as you flipped the pages closed on the hospital bed table Gretchen had stolen from work for you. James, understanding you perfectly since you could now actually move your lips and tongue to speak three weeks after the initial accident, crossed his legs on the chair beside your bed and leaned forward on them the slightest bit.

“Because of the video and the statement you gave the police, the state of New York is pressing charges on Nathan for being an accessory to attempted first degree murder, conspiracy to commit murder, reckless endangerment in the first, and assault in the second. Max sentence for all of them combined would be about twenty years, possibly life. He’s adamantly denying that he was involved despite your initial statement and cell phone records…”

“Even though he’s on video?” You interrupted as you looked up at your new attorney.

“Unfortunately, the video that was shown on the news doesn’t exactly show who was in the cab…”

“They have the wrong video, then.” You said as you hit Negan’s arm and pointed across your body for the house iPad. “Show him the thing.”

“I have had every fucking inch of this place monitored since the day she filed for divorce.” Negan said as he logged into your security system feature on the tablet that literally ran nearly every inch of your house from the pool pump down to the exact temperature of the large wine cooler in your cellar. “There’s four cameras on the fucking front door alone, including this one.” He hit the live view from the camera directly above your front door that showed the area from just in front of your door all the way out to the street. James got up to look at the feed as Negan hit back and pulled up the next live feed.

“This one, too.” You glanced over and looked at the video from the camera that was located on the corner of your house outside the second story window that showed nearly the entire front garden of your house, the stairs leading up to the sidewalk, the sidewalk itself, and half of the street. “I got one in the same spot on the other side of the second story and one on the wall facing the damn door. They all record, 24 fucking 7, and I can have a copy of the videos from that night made for you in fucking twenty minutes.”

“Do that.” James said as he pulled a yellow notepad from his briefcase and started feverishly writing notes. “I’ll need three copies of every angle you have. One for me, and one for each the prosecution and the defense. That’ll make this an open and shut thing.”

“Thank God.” You gasped as you leaned back against your pillows a little more to stop the ache in your hip before it got much worse.

“Has no one come to talk to you about these tapes?” He asked as he glanced up at you.

“Well, I’ve only been able to actually speak for like three days and I was kinda out of it for a while. But no, no one’s come to talk to me about anything other than the initial police report.”

“That’s… well that’s only partially surprising since the main culprit was the chief of police. Now, one final thing. The trial begins on Monday and you are the only person the state is calling that day. You absolutely cannot take any pain killers that day, no matter how much pain you’re in. It can taint your statement and the whole trial could get thrown out. They know you’re going to be in a wheelchair, they know about all broken ribs, and they know that your jaw is wired shut so if you get too upset, they will stop and let you take a break. But this is all stuff the prosecutor will go over with you tomorrow when you meet her at the court house to go over your testimony.” You nodded your head and looked over at Negan as he texted back and forth with Tank, who was getting the camera feeds copied onto discs upstairs in the den.

“This is gunna fucking suck.” He nodded in agreement as he put the iPad on your table and sat on his hip on the bed beside Chewie, who had taken up permanent sleeping residence next to your left hip.

“Two days, baby girl. Two fucking days and it’s done. We fucking got this.” You nodded your head and adjusted the strap of your left arm and shoulder sling.

“Alright. Let’s do this.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As you sat in your wheelchair in front of the witness stand, waiting patiently for the bailiff to adjust the microphone enough so that it would be able to record your testimony, you realized that you had never actually been on this side of the room before. Sure, you had done your duty as a juror when you were in your early twenties, and you had gone to court with Christian a time or two for moral support on big cases, but you had never been the person on trial or witnessing for one. This past year was full of firsts. You were shaken from your thoughts as the bailiff stood off to your side and put the Bible you needed to swear on as close to your left fingers as possible. You smiled at him and laid your fingers on the hardwood cover.

“Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help you, God?”

“I do.” You replied with a nod. Your eyes found the ADA, Jenna Prescott, who was an old acquaintance of yours, as she stood up from the table.

“How are you today, (Y/N)?” She asked with a smile as she stepped around the table to act as a focal point so you didn’t have to look at Nathan.

“Well, let’s just say I’ve been better.”

“Understandable.” She said with a nod of her head before launching right into her inquiry. “Now, (Y/N). Let’s start from the beginning. Can you tell us what happened first on the night of the incident?”

“I was watching a movie at around 12:30 at night, when I received a call from my lawyer Nathan Riggs, regarding my divorce papers.” You purposely didn’t continue answering the way Jenna had told you the day before.

“And what did he say when he called?”

“He told me that my ex-husband had finally signed the divorce papers I filed.” She nodded as she strolled slowly towards the full jurors box.

“Did he tell you why he called so late to tell you?”

“He told me that he planned on dropping them off in my mailbox, but I told him I didn’t mind coming upstairs from my basement to get them.”

“So you did just that; you went upstairs to get the papers?” You nodded and cleared your throat as you began to fiddle with the top spongey edge of the leg brace that ran from your hip to mid-calf on your left leg through the knee length dress Gretchen had helped you put on that morning.

“I met him at the curb where he was standing outside a cab. We talked about a case he had been late working on, and he told me that his assistant had filed the divorce papers that afternoon. We joked about my meticulous record keeping because I have kept receipts for every single thing I had purchased during my marriage.”

“And why is that?” Jenna prompted.

“Because when my ex-husband and I entered into our marriage, we were on two different financial levels. I was instructed by my financier at the time, who assisted myself, Christian, and Nathan in writing up my prenuptial agreement, that there was no harm in protecting myself because you never know what the future could look like.” She nodded her head as she searched your eyes, knowing that the next part was where things got difficult.

“Ms. (Y/L/N), what happened after Mr. Riggs gave you the divorce papers?”

“He…” You tried but your words lodged in your throat. You blinked back your tears and cleared your throat as you found Negan, who was standing toward the very back of the court room. He gave you a small nod and you looked back up at Jenna. “He got back into his cab and rolled down the window. He told me that he’d see me around… and that he was sorry for this.” She nodded her head as she walked over and grabbed a little remote.

“People’s exhibits one through four, your honor. Security footage of the night in question from the front of Ms. (Y/L/N)’s home. If it’s OK with the court, I’ll only play exhibit one through to the end so that Ms. (Y/L/N) doesn’t have to relive the night more than once.” The judge told her it was OK, and you forced yourself to look anywhere but at the TV that was being rolled closer to the jurors box. You were grateful that the security cameras didn’t have sound but you didn’t need it. From the moment Christian hit your leg with the baton and the jurors all gasped, you could see the entire night play out like a horrific nightmare in your head. 

Tears welled in your eyes and the pain that you had had since four in the morning thanks to your inability to take your pain mens seemed to increase ten-fold. Just as the video was coming to an end, you heard a quick, two tone whistle that Negan did almost subconsciously when he waited for something; the elevator, for dinner to cool, while he stood outside the bathroom door waiting to carry you back to bed. Your head whipped up to look at him and he smiled and mouthed for you to breathe.

“Now, Ms. (Y/L/N). Can you tell the court what your injuries were after that night?” You took a hissed breath through your teeth and took the box of tissues the bailiff was offering you.

“From my head down,” You started as you wiped your nose and the tears off your face. “I had a severe concussion, and he fractured my left cheek and my jaw. So I now have metal plate in my cheek and my jaw is wired shut. My left shoulder, forearm, wrist and hand were all shattered and replaced with pins, rods, screws, and my shoulder was replaced as well. I had seven total broken rips, a hole in my lung and my spleen that caused severe internal bleeding over the nearly four hours I was left to die. My left hip was shattered and had to be replaced, my left knee was also shattered and replaced and my right ankle was broken.” Negan nodded at you as Jenna started the slide show of photos that were taken of you at the hospital.

“People’s exhibits five through thirty.” She said softly.

“Alright, I cave.” Nathan said loudly as he jumped to his feet. “I’ll plead guilty to whatever you want, just please stop making her relive my mistake.” Jenna looked over between him and the judge as she temporarily turned off the TV.

“He pleads guilty to all charges.” Jenna said with a nod. “Minimum of twenty years and loss of his bar status.”

“That’s fine.” Nathan said with a nod. “Fine.”

“Works for me.” The judge said with a nod. “Final sentencing in two weeks. Thank you for your time, Ms. (Y/L/N).” You nodded as you set the tissues on your lap while the bailiff came over to push your wheelchair over to the partition so Negan could intercept your chair. You thanked Jenna on your way past as Nathan was put into hand cuffs on your right. You looked over at him with nearly dead eyes and he bowed his head in shame.

“I won’t say I’m sorry.” He said as he pulled the slightest bit against the officers. “Because I know it doesn’t mean shit. But I will say that I hope you don’t let this change you forever.” 

“Good luck, Nathan.” You responded as you took your purse from your boyfriend and looked away from him. “Can we go home?” Negan nodded as he grabbed the handles of your wheelchair and waited for Tank to clear a path in front of you so that no one could hit your leg.

“Abso-fucking-lutely, baby girl.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Negan…” You breathed as you looked at the two dresses he had picked out for you to wear to his mom’s family dinner. It was going to be the first family event you would be going to and you absolutely didn’t want to meet your boyfriend’s family with an unattractive brace on your knee or your left arm and hand in the most God awful cast in the world. You were grateful that you had the wires and arches taken out of your mouth the week before so eating was something that sort of happened now but this was still not how you wanted to meet them. 

“Sweetheart. We talked about this.” Negan said as he leaned against the dresser in your closet. “You have to go, you look fucking gorgeous, and they aren’t gunna give a shit that you need a cane to walk.”

“You’re not helping!” You said as you glared up at him.

“And you’re not getting dressed.” He retorted. “Baby, we’re gunna be late.” You sighed and reached out for his hand to stand up.

“I hate you right now.” You growled as you grabbed a thin strapped black and flower patterned dress that would hopefully distract from the still bright pink scar on your shoulder and cover most of your knee brace. “Just help me.”

“You’re too hard on yourself, baby.” He said as he took the dress from you and pulled it off the hanger. “You’re gorgeous.” 

“And you’re just trying to butter me up.” You snarked as you let him put the dress over your head.

“Is it working?” He chuckled as he pulled your left arm through the opening as slowly and as carefully as possible since your range of motion wasn’t top notch yet.

“No.” You turned with your back toward him so he could zip you up as you dropped a pair of simple black flats on the floor. He fixed your hair, which you had honestly just blowed dry after your shower, and kneeled down so that he could help you get your feet into the soft soled shoe.

“Alright, let’s go, princess.” You rolled your eyes and grabbed your cane.

“If your mother doesn’t love me, I’m punching you in the fucking throat.” He burst out laughing as you partially limped passed your sleeping pup and out of your closet.

“Will you fucking quit!” He laughed as he snagged your handbag off the bed and jogged to beat you to the elevator. “She’s gunna love you as much as I fucking do.” You grumbled under your breath at him as you rode the elevator downstairs and hobbled out to the waiting SUV. As the car pulled away from the curb to start the long trip to Staten Island to Negan’s childhood home, your boyfriend gently reached out to pull your legs onto his lap.

“Look, I fucking get it.” He said with a nod as he habitually readjusted the straps of your knee brace. “You’re scared. You haven’t left the fucking house in nearly three months, you have been avoiding most people like the fucking plague, and now I’m asking you to fucking have dinner with people you haven’t fucking met before. You have a right to be scared but you know what?” You cocked your eyebrow and looked up at him through your lashes as you fiddled with your cast in your lap. 

“I’m gunna be right fucking there the whole damn time. And Gretchie will be there, too. Yea, my family can be loud and it sure as fuck is giant… but they know what you’ve gone through. They know you’re recovering something traumatic. And I promise you that no one is going to judge you because of your scars or your cane. No one would fucking dare and if they do, they’ll fucking answer to me.” He fixed your dress across your lap and gently reached up to cup your jaw.

“Come back to me, baby girl. I miss my strong, independent, fearless woman. You’re letting that prick fucking tear you down again.  Don’t. You’re so much fucking stronger than that. Look at all you’ve accomplished in the past few months. You beat out what they said would be your recovery times and forced yourself to be able to walk faster than any doctor had said you would. You made yourself be independent at home. But now you gotta make yourself be independent out of your home again, too. And ma’s birthday is the safest place you can do that.” You nodded your head and took a slightly shaky deep breath as the car pulled up in front of Gretchen’s apartment.

“OK.” You said softly as you pushed your hair back over your shoulders. “Fine, you win.”

“I fucking always win, baby girl.” He chuckled as his baby sister, her husband, and her two boys came out of their apartment. You could hear Gretchen yelling at her sons as she pulled open the door in front of you to let the kids crawl into the back.

“And I swear to God, if you don’t shut your damn mouth about the fucking thing, I’ll throw every fucking toy you own out and you’ll never get another toy again!” 

“Damn, Gretchie.” Negan laughed as he moved your legs momentarily so they didn’t get bumped. “You sound like ma.”

“I feel like ma.” She said as she pushed back the middle seat and got in next to her brother as her husband, Franco, got into the front seat. “Hi (Y/N). Kids, say hi.” They two kids in the back seat said hello to you and their uncle Negan as Gretchen helped her brother rest your feet across both their laps. She smoothed out your dress with a smile and leaned against the door as her two kids started playing with their Nintendo’s. “I love this dress.”

“Negan picked it out.” You said as you brushed your hand across the fabric. 

“Wrong.” She said with a laugh. “I picked it out. I thought it would bring out the color of your eyes. Which it does.”

“Couldn’t let me have one fucking thing, could you?” Negan chuckled.

“Yea, ‘cause I’m letting you take credit for something I did.” She said as she looked over at him, incredulously. “Not a chance.” He rolled his eyes and rested his hands on your right thigh as the car left Manhattan for the night. The car fell into a comfortable silence until you finally pulled up to the restaurant that had been rented out for the night for the family event.

“Wait for Gretchie.” Negan said as he helped you spin on the seat since your healing hip was still a little sensitive. You nodded your head and tried not to psych yourself out as you pushed open the car door and leaned your cane on the side of the car.

“Is this the famous, (Y/N)?” A woman called out as Gretchen helped you out of the higher car onto the curb. You wanted to look up at her and introduce yourself but making sure you didn’t fall over was a little more pressing at the moment.

“Hey, ma.” Negan said behind you as he held onto your hips while you steadied your weight on your legs as evenly as you could. “This is my angel.” Once you took your first step away from the car, you looked up at the woman who absolutely did not look like she was turning seventy-six, with a smile. She immediately reached up to brush her fingers through your hair to fix it for you with a small smile. Her gorgeous brown eyes searched your face as she adjusted your hair over your shoulders so it sat in cute waves across your skin.

“She’s perfect.” She said as she took a step back with your casted hand held lightly in hers. “I approve of this one.” Your face flushed as Negan stepped up to your side and rested his hand on the small of your back.

“Thanks, ma. Happy birthday.” She nodded and kissed his cheek before turning toward Gretchen to say hi to her daughter. “Come on, baby girl. Let’s go inside.”

——

You didn’t know if you were reading to much into it because of your nerves but Negan definitely acted different toward you around his family. The overprotective, hyper-vigilance was abandoned after a few minutes as his attention was drawn to other members of his massive family. 

His mother, Maria, on the other hand, practically adopted you as her second daughter. She fawned over you every second of the night, from making sure you weren’t standing up too long, to making sure you weren’t in any pain at all. She made sure that the kitchen knew that your plate of lasagna needed cut in small enough pieces so that you didn’t worry about having to do it one handed and so that it would be easier for you to eat with your jaw still healing. If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought you were a helpless child again at your uncle Bobby’s house. But surprisingly, it made you feel ten times more comfortable than you expected it to with the family. At least, most of them.

“Have you seen this new fling of his?” A thick accent asked over the sound of the restroom door opening as you were using the bathroom between dinner and dessert. “She’s just hanging all over mama…”

“And that dress.” Another woman said. “Did she miss the memo that wives wear black? It’s just disrespectful…”

“I don’t know.” A third voice said softly as the three women stopped in front of the handicapped stall to check their reflections in the mirror. “I talked to her for a couple minutes and she seems really really sweet. Gretchen says Negan adores her…”

“Yea, probably because of her fake tits.” The first woman laughed as she dug through her bag for something. You huffed to yourself and shook your head as you grabbed the handrail in the stall with your right hand and pulled yourself to your feet so you didn’t have to use your knee too much.

“The tits are real.” You called out as you pulled up your panties and fixed your dress. “And Negan and Gretchen picked out the dress.” With a shake of your head, you flushed, and limped out of the stall with the most fake smile you could muster. “And Mama Marie is being nice to his son’s new girlfriend. I’m not hanging all over her. May I wash my hands, please?” The three women moved from in front of the sink and you gave them a small nod and a soft thanks. The trio stood awkwardly around you and finished fixing their makeup as you dried your hand as best as you could so it wouldn’t slip on your cane.

“I will say though.” You said as you hesitated at the door.  The three women looked over their shoulders at you and you simply smiled. “Even if you think I’m being disrespectful, I appreciate you checking me out. Good self-esteem boost to hear my tits still look good.” You turned toward the door and nearly ran head first into Maria, who looked pissed beyond belief.

“What did you say to her?” She demanded as she gently moved you out the door.

“Mama, we didn’t…” The woman that belonged to the second voice you heard tried, only to be cut off when Maria put her hand up.

“Save your breath.” She growled. “You know better.” She followed after you back to the head table and your brow furrowed slightly.

“Am I supposed to be wearing all black?” You asked as you lowered yourself into your chair.

“Well…” She said as she sat down beside you in Negan’s chair. “Usually, yes. It’s a sign of respect for family members that are in jail or that pass away. But you technically aren’t fully family yet. Which is why Gretchie put you in black with a pop of color.” You nodded your head as she waved over Negan with a single drag of her finger. “Don’t worry, sweets. We’ll take care of ya and teach you the ways of the family.” You gave her a soft smile and nodded as she stood up to say something to Negan. You could only make out the words ‘horrendous’, ‘disrespectful’, and ‘breasts’ but by the look on your boyfriend’s face, he was as appalled as his mother was at the women’s actions.

“You OK, baby girl?” He asked as he leaned down to your eye level.

“I’m fine.” He nodded his head once and kissed your forehead.

“Stay with ma.” You nodded at his retreating back as he called out for ‘Paulie’ angrily.

“One thing you never do.” Maria said as she sat back down and reached for her wine glass from her spot on the other side of Negan’s chair. “Never disrespect another member of this family. I won’t stand for it. And my grand nieces should know that by now.”

“Yes, ma’am.” You said as you picked up your water and took a sip as Negan nearly threw the man you expected was Paulie toward the front door. 

“I need you to fucking explain to me…” You heard him roar as the door slowly closed behind him. “Why the fuck your fucking cunt wife is talking shit…” You didn’t realize you had started getting up from the table until Maria put her hand on your shoulder and pushed you back down gently.

“Stay put, baby. My Negan, he’s a good boy, but dealing with the family sometimes is a big job. Being his woman is not an easy task. Lucille tried, God bless her soul, but…”

“Who?” You asked as you looked away from your boyfriend and at his mother.

“Lucille. His ex-wife. Didn’t you know about Lucille?” You shook your head and looked back up at Negan.

“No…” You whispered. “No, I didn’t.”

——

“You’re awful fucking quiet tonight.” Negan said as you lay across the back seat of the SUV on your way home after dinner.

“Just tired.” You said as you played with the gold band Negan hand on his right ring finger like you usually did. You had no idea why it didn’t occur to you before but, now that you really looked at it, it was absolutely a wedding band. Negan hummed and slowly nodded his head as he searched your face.

“Sure you’re not fucking upset about what those bitches said?” You huffed and shook your head as you looked up to meet his eyes.

“No, baby. I’m fine.” He nodded again as the car pulled up to the curb in front of your house, and you could tell he wasn’t buying what you were selling. He helped you drop your legs to the ground and passed you your cane as Tank came around the car to help you out.

“The fuck did my ma say to you?” You hated that your slight hesitation gave you away but you still shook your head.

“Nothing worth while.” You could almost feel him fuming behind you for blatantly lying to you as you slowly made your way down the front stairs and into your house. But it wasn’t until you hit the elevator that he figured it out.

“Ah, fuck. She fucking told you about fucking Lucille.” You huffed a humorless laugh as you limped into the elevator and shook your head.

“The fact that she did and you didn’t in the six months we’ve been together is what is really fucking upsetting, Negan.” 

“Yea because you’re an open fucking book…”

“I am an open fucking book, Negan!” You shouted as the elevator stopped on your floor. “You know fucking everything about me down to my Goddamn deodorant and panty preference. What do I know about you? Fucking nothing. I don’t know the apparent rules about being your girlfriend, I don’t know the fucking fact that you were fucking married. I don’t know fucking shit! So don’t you dare get all self righteous on me.” You stepped out of your dress and threw your strapless bra across the bathroom before turning on the tub. “You have no fucking right.”

“I have no fucking right?” He asked as you snatched your plastic cast cover off the counter. “I have to… don’t you fucking get in that fucking tub!”

“Make me get out of it!” You shouted as you threw your knee brace at him and awkwardly maneuvered yourself into the bath.

“Well I’m not fucking getting you out of it.” He retorted. “And I got all the fucking right in the world to keep my fucking life private…”

“Not from me!” You screamed. “Not from me!” He angrily threw his hands up in the air and stormed out of the bathroom with a growled shout.

“Enjoy sleeping in the fucking bathtub!” You rolled your eyes and grabbed a lavender bath bomb from the basket hanging off the side of the bathtub.

“Don’t worry, I will.” You said you to yourself as you dropped the bomb in the hot water and turned off the faucet. You sighed and laid your head on the pillow you had attached to the tub to close your eyes for a few minutes and let the heat workout the stress knots and pain from your bones. Which is exactly where Negan found you three hours later.

“Goddamn it.” He growled as he pulled the chain for the stopper and let the water out as he rolled up his sleeves. He laid a towel down on the sheets and came back into the room while grumbling under his breath since he knew he was gunna have to do this. He gently pulled you out of the receding water with a shake of his head and carried you into the bedroom. “Fucking… fuck.” He said as he laid you down on your side of the bed and toweled you dry. “Why the fuck… just… fuck…” He threw the top towel and the cast cover into the bathroom and pulled the covers up over you. “Pain in my fucking ass.” He continued to swear as he stripped down to his boxers, got in on his side of the bed, and glanced over to make sure Chewie was in his bed.

“Your mommy is a fucking thorn in my side right fucking now.” He said as he flipped off the lights. “But she’s fucking right.”

——

You knew Negan had caved and carried you to bed when the towel underneath you scratched at your skin when you stretched under the sheets. You could hear him breathing beside you but you knew by the sound of it that he wasn’t asleep. You moved your left hand across the bed and he sighed as he moved his right hand out toward yours.

“I’d just turned fucking 20.” He grumbled softly. “Had no fucking business getting married. I was just a fucking kid and we were fucking high school sweethearts. Just Goddamn kids. She had no idea what she was fucking marrying into. She lasted about three years before she took off. Moved to fucking France on my dime. And I just fucking wrote her off. Told people she had fucking kicked it. Shut my fucking heart behind a mother fucking wall and didn’t dare think twice about letting that wall down. Not until last night.” You rolled your head on the pillow to look at him in the darkened bedroom as he carefully laced his fingers with yours.

“My ma is the only person that knew the fucking truth about that back stabbing cunt. And she would never, ever fucking bring her up unless she was fucking sure that that person was fucking serious about me. Her fucking telling you about Lucille is her subtle fucking way of telling me to get my fucking head out of my ass about you. You know, I laid here all fucking night asking myself why the fuck I wasn’t letting you in after everything we’ve fucking been through together so far. And I didn’t have a fucking answer. Not a single Goddamn word. So, starting today, I’ll let you in if you still fucking wanna be in.” The second you nodded your head, he let go of your hand, moved it to lay across your stomach, and scooted across the mattress to wrap his arms around you. You reached up with your good hand and tangled your fingers in his hair as you kissed his forehead.

“Old Spice.” He said after a few moments. “Original fucking Old Spice and Calvin Klein’s boxer briefs.” Your smile grew as you rested your cheek on his head.

“Thank you.” He nodded his head and kissed your scared shoulder with a smile.

“Of course, baby girl.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So what the fuck are you dragging me to again?” Negan called out from your bathroom that he had partially taken over as you tried on yet another dress; a cream colored dress with an intricate red pattern.

“It’s an art auction for St. Jude.” You called out as you walked over Chewie and his shoe shaped squeaky toy. “And I have had my eye on this painting of New York by a man named Van Tame for weeks to go in the library to replace that God awful one above the fire place. What about this one?” Negan looked at you through the mirror as he brushed his teeth and shook his head.

“Too naked. I like the white one.” You rolled your eyes as you looked at yourself in the mirror, only partially agreeing with the nearly naked aspect of it.

“What about that long green grey-ish one? I really like that one.”

“Fuckin’ green one would make it a little easier for you to walk, baby girl.” He said as you headed back into the closet to change once again. “And you could get away with fucking flats.” You nodded in agreement as you stepped over Chewie again and took off the naked dress. “What do you think the painting’s going for?”

“It’s estimated about twenty-five grand. But I know that bitch, Lady Ratchet cunt face is going to do everything she can to out bid me for it. She does it every fucking year.”

“So I’ll fucking kill her.” Negan said easily, causing you to laugh as you slipped the dress over your head, being mindful of of your already finished up-do.

“You’re not gunna kill her, baby.” You giggled as you lifted your dress and headed out of the closet so he could zip you up. “That mob shit doesn’t work on the Upper East.”

“Well it fucking could.” He chuckled as he zipped up the A-line, transparent lace dress.

“Not today.” You said in a sing song voice as you stepped into your black flats and turned to finish your makeup since you settled on your dress. “Today, you are an upstanding gentleman.”

“How fucking boring.” He joked as he grabbed his shirt and tie off the door knob. “Is this how it’s always gunna be?”

“Very much so.” You said as you held out your mascara for him to twist the top for you since your left hand wasn’t completely up to par but at least sans cast. “I miss my boring life, thank you. Getting your ass handed to you takes a lot outta a girl.”

“Yea, her fucking boyfriend, too.” He agreed with a smirk. “Carrying you around all the fucking time…” You scowled at him through the mirror as he slowly tied his tie in front of his chest.

“You’re an asshole.” He chuckled and finished his tie so he could close your mascara for you.

“You fucking love me all the same.” You threw on some red lipstick and smacked your lips together before turning to Negan with a smile. “Ready?”

“To be fucking tortured? No.”

——

“Lot number 119. ‘Street Scene on Fifth Avenue’ by Van Tame.”

“This one.” You said softly as you sat up a little straighter in your chair to see the painting you were there to purchase. You could see Ms. Bradbury sit up a little when you did out of the corner of your eye as the painting was set on the easel at the front of the room. “Fuck you, bitch. It’s mine.” You said under your breath as you picked up your paddle.

“Let me see it.” Negan said beside you as he took the paddle from your hand. “See if she’s willing to go fucking toe to toe with me.”

“Don’t go over two million.” You said softly as the starting bid was set at fifteen grand.

“I’ll go as high as she’ll fucking run it but I’m winning this damn painting for you.” He said as he raised your paddle for seventeen grand. You glanced over Mrs. Bradbury, who looked as confused as ever as she raised her paddle for seventeen seventy-five. A smug smile stretched across your face as you sat back in your chair while Negan placed the next bid at eighteen twenty-five.

“I think she’s scared of you.” You whispered as a woman a few rows in front of you placed the next bid only for her husband to scold her softly for doing so.

“She fucking better be.” He said as he placed nineteen thousand. Mrs. Bradbury went to lift her paddle in the air and Negan’s head whipped over in her direction. His eyes narrowed threateningly as she placed the nineteen twenty-five bid and she startled as she looked back over at you. He raised your paddle for the next twenty five hundred dollar jump and silently dared her to continue. You looked away from her with a smile that threatened to break your cheeks as the final call for bids was announced.

“Sold to the gentleman in the back of the room.”

“There you go, baby girl.” Negan said proudly as he handed you back your paddle.

“You are my painting savior.” You said as you grabbed your handbag from the chair beside you and tapped his side. “Come on. Let’s pay and go celebrate our victory.”

[feminarrie]

in bloom - ii

Levinia doesn’t really understand how a friendship has blossomed between her and Niall. She had thought that the offer to go out for a couple drinks had been some sort of one-off thing to thank her for what she had done. Even when she kept denying the need to thank her for such a thing, Niall had insisted.

There had been an exchanging of numbers when Niall had walked her home. All the way to the private entrance for the stairway to her flat that’s located in an alleyway to the right of the building. He had wished her a goodnight, hands shoved into his pants pockets before wandering back to his car.

At the time, Levinia had thought that it would be the end of it. Thought that seeing her face was likely too much of a reminder of the horrible things that had transpired on his wedding day. Didn’t expect any sort of text or call following a text letting her know he had made it home safely. She wasn’t happy with it, if she’s honest. Enjoyed Niall’s company, even when there had been few words spoken throughout the night. But, his presence was warm and reminder her of peaceful, sunny days on her back porch. Bees buzzing next to her head and the mixed scents of flowers hanging just beneath her freckled nose.

But, they’re out for yet another Thursday night drink a little over two months later. Niall has memorized her standard order—a glass of sangria with barely a splash of orange juice—and she’s developed a knack for knowing what he’s craving. Tonight, it’s a basket of chips to share while he prattles on about a client he had that week, some professional footballer that sounds like a right prick, if she’s honest.

“Barely missed me head. Probably wouldn’t be sittin’ next to ya if I hadn’t ducked.” Niall laughs, recounting how they had chucked a pair of cleats at his head.

Levinia thinks he’s starting to move past Penelope’s absence, especially recently. She’s noticed the way the corners of his eyes crinkle up more now when he laughs, something that she’s only observed once or twice in the time that they had known each other. It’s something that happens weekly, now.

She knows he’s not completely over it, though. On nights when he’s had too much to drink, he’s resting his head in Levinia’s lap and questioning what he could have done to make Penelope leave. And Levinia wishes she could convince him that he’s not at fault. Tries to tell him she’s a coward for leaving him the way that she did instead of the instant her doubts had casted a shadow.

Tonight feels good, though. She’s pleasantly buzzed, a tingly feeling that began in her tummy is spreading to the tips of her fingers and toes. Niall appears to be the same, happily shoving chips—two or three at a time—into his mouth while Levinia fidgets with the black mixing straw in her drink.

“Are you gonna go back there?” She asks, watching as the thin piece of plastic displaces the melting ice in her glass.

Niall scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“Ya must think I’m mental if you’d think I’d do that.”

Levinia pokes her tongue out at him at his response. It’s equal parts childish and flirtatious, though harmlessly. She knows Niall is hardly in any state to enter any sort of romantic relationship following Penelope. Knows there’s a large piece of his heart that’s still clutched in Penelope’s hand, whether she’s aware of it or not.

“Always think you’re mental,” she jokes, a smile pulling at the corners of her glossed lips. “Maybe another drink will change that.”

She tosses back the remainder of the watered down alcohol before tossing Niall a full smile. His blue eyes disappear behind half lidded eyelids before landing back on her. He stands, nevertheless, and makes his way to the bar.

Levinia still doesn’t know how this has happened, but she’s selfish enough to keep it going.

. . .

Levinia wakes from a nap to the sound of her phone ringing on her bedside table. Zeus, the cat she had found making a home out of her greenhouse, all but sighing when she leans across him to grab it. She looks at the screen and sees Niall’s name displayed across the hazy black background.

“‘Lo?” She answers, voice still thick with sleep and perhaps a little bit of cottonmouth.

“Were ya really sleeping?” Niall laughs and she can practically hear him roll his eyes.

“Are you really calling me while you’re working?” She quips, eyes still closed.

She pets at Zeus’ thick white and brown coat, mentally reminding herself to properly brush him later. His annoyance from earlier soon turns into loud purrs and contentment when she begins to pet a particular spot just behind his left ear.

“Just checkin’ in to see if we’re still on for Harry’s, tonight.” He says.

“Yeah, why do you think I was napping?” She asks, and it’s a reminder of the heaviness in her chest that she only gets when she’s roused before she’s actually ready. “Gotta sleep for a little bit to keep up with you lot.”

It’s the truth, really. Niall and Harry tend to stay up far later than she’s used to, still putting away drinks or passing a spliff between the two of them. Levinia usually makes an excuse to retreat to one of the small, but soft couches in the living room of Harry’s flat.

“If ya can’t hang, pet.” Niall jests and if she wasn’t so fond of him already, the cheek he constantly gives her would certainly have her rethinking their close friendship.

“Fuck off,” she laughs. “Zeus and I are going back to bed. I’ll see you at Harry’s.”

Levinia tosses the phone back on the bedside table before settling back underneath the mustard yellow duvet that had shifted to sit at her hips. Thinks about how she’s still got another hour left to sleep before she’s forced to get ready. And she’s happily falling back into a light sleep with Zeus purring away at her side.

An hour passes and Levinia’s eyelids feel like something akin to sandpaper each time they brush over her glassy eyes. A yawn pulls her jaw downward with a pop...and holy fuck, she’s tired. Her bed is far too comfortable to leave and she thinks about texting both Harry and Niall to tell them she can’t make it. But, she’s been cooped up for the past week.

Tending to yet another wedding for a couple that could have been no more than twenty. She hadn’t minded their young age, actually thought it was sweet that they were ready for such a commitment. But, Levinia thinks the bride’s mother simply needed a pointed hat and broomstick to accompany her personality. She had been in Levinia’s shop at least four times that week, including today.

Levinia’s incredibly grateful for the break from such a controlling energy. It had permeated the atmosphere and changed the way in which Levinia interacted with customers and Bethan. She was a quick fuse, the smallest mishap setting off a spark that burned her a little more each time until she blew up at some innocent bystanders. Right now, she couldn’t even recall what had been the final straw, but it had Bethan ushering her up the stairs and demanding that Levinia take the time to sort herself out.

“Take a nap or summat. I’ll close if you’re not downstairs before then.”

As Levinia’s pulling on some old pair of black skinnies and her dad’s old Led Zepplin shirt (made vintage by the holes that look eerily like old cigarette burns), she makes a mental note to take Bethan out for a nice meal next weekend. Thinks she deserves it for putting up with Levinia when her mood is sour and she spits venom at the first thing to move. Especially when she’s already got two little boys that push her buttons every moment they get.

She wipes at the stray mascara and eyeliner that has smudged against her cheeks after a nap before sliding on a pair of sandals before she’s heading out the door. When she steps outside, even at half six in the evening, the sun warms her skin. It’s a sign of the impending summer that’s just a few short weeks away. Levinia thinks it’s a shame she’ll be in her little stuffy car on the way to Harry’s place, would much rather be able to walk to his flat. But, the car journey alone is half an hour and she’s not exactly got the right shoes for it.

. . .

The trip hadn’t been so bad, if Levinia’s honest. She’d blasted some trashy pop music from her childhood the entire way there, singing at the top of her lungs. She had only turned it down when pulling up against the curb parallel to Harry’s flat. She puts the yellow Volkswagen beetle, affectionately named Bumble, into park before letting Harry know she’ll be walking up to the entrance. She really only does it to avoid pressing the intercom system button that allows her to speak to Harry. Something about the interaction makes her uncomfortable, even though she’s chosen to simply yell upward toward the sky until his mop of hair appears at least once or twice.

She hears the familiar buzz and click of the door when she approaches it, quickening her steps to open the door before it locks once again. The wood of the shiny, but worn stairs creak with each step she takes until she’s coming up on the apartment labeled 204C. Harry’s got some fake peonies arranges into a wreath hanging from the door and she likes to think she has something to do with the new addition.

Levinia raps a closed fist against the white wooden door and waits to hear a call of ‘come in’ before making her entrance. She slips her feet from the sandals and It smells like a mix of some cologne she can’t really place and apples. It’s likely that Harry’s tried his hands at yet another new food that she and Niall will undoubtedly engorge themselves on later that night.

“Oi, there she is.” Harry’s voice carries from the balcony just off the sitting room.

He’s in a dark grey top that’s rolled at the sleeves and skinnies that rival her own. Levinia has half the mind to pout about the fact that his legs look better than hers, but she doesn’t. Simply holds up the bottle of vodka that she pulled from the large black purse hung from the crease of her elbow.

“And she’s brought booze!” He laughs, pulling the clear bottle from her hands and wandering into the kitchen.

Levinia follows him there, placing her bag on a seat that sits neatly beneath a mahogany table. Her feet make contact with the cold, white tiled floor of the kitchen as she makes her way to the refrigerator.

She’s far too comfortable with Harry, she knows. After less than two months of friendship, she should still be asking where he kept his best mixers instead of sorting through the refrigerator to find the jug of orange juice that she knows he always has. But, it’s been easy to fall into a close friendship with Harry. Feels like they’ve known each other for ten years with the way they interact with one another.

It rivals the solid friendship that has developed between her and Niall, but the trauma of that fated day has binded them together like glue. Levinia has seen him at his most vulnerable, with cheeks splotchy and eyelids swollen from crying. And Niall’s seen her drunk and eyes wild as she tumbles toward the bathroom to empty her stomach of one too many cocktails.

Levinia sets to making herself a drink. Three parts vodka to the two parts orange juice. It has Harry rolling his eyes when he watches her swirl the drink to mix it. A laugh bubbles from his raspberry colored lips when she scrunches up her nose at the taste.

“Don’ really know what you expected, love.” He says, clutching a bowl of crisps in one hand and the bottle of vodka in the other. “Grab that plate with sandwiches and bring it out to the balcony. Niall said he’d be here in ten.”

Levinia does as she’s told, picking up the white and blue ceramic plate before following Harry outside. The sun sits lower in the sky, but still basks the balcony in a golden light. It bounces off her tanned skin and highlights her profile when she places the plate of food on a table between two Adirondack chairs.

She lets herself relax into the sloped chair when she comes to sit, a happy sigh leaving her glossed lips. Her eyes close to bask in the sun, right hand swirling her glass lazily. Levinia’s missed the warm months. The warmth of the sun that dots more freckles across her nose and cheeks had been gone for too long.

“Don’t tell me she’s fallen asleep already.” Niall’s voice says from behind her.

Levinia opens her eyes before turning her head to look at Niall. She eyes the blue, short sleeve button down that he’s left open and the white shirt beneath it. He’s cleaned up well, she thinks. The crisp, blinding white of his shirt is different from the stained and wrinkled one from their first official meeting. She hopes it’s indicative of his continued healing.

“And here I was, about to tell you that you looked good.” She says, her tongue pressed to the inside of her cheek and eyes playful.

. . .

The playfulness in Levinia’s chocolate brown irises played out through the night. Niall and Harry had told hysterical accounts of clients they had encountered through their few short years as physical therapists. Each story had Levinia knuckling at the outer corners of her eyes to wipe away running eyeliner.

She doesn’t think the anecdotes would be nearly as entertaining if it weren’t for the smoke swirling around in her lungs and alcohol in her veins. Even so, she laughs until she’s crying and Niall is red in the face at the periodic snorts that huff through her nose.

Levinia simply likes being in the presence of Harry and Niall. They lull her into a sense of comfort that she has never really known. Not even with Bethan, who she’s known for ages—who knows some of her deepest secrets. The warmth she feels is akin to the way whiskey settles nicely in your tummy and makes your eyelids droop with the coziness the emanates from it.

That feeling is stronger now, with Niall’s head in her lap and Harry shuffling off to grab a blanket for the slumbering Irishman. Levinia is running her fingers through the swirls of caramel that lack the typical product that holds it in place. Niall’s half asleep, left cheek pressed to her thigh when Harry returns with a yellow knit blanket.

“Feel free to use the spare bedroom, Ina.” Harry offers, a yawn pulling his jaw downward and scrunching up his face. “Know tha’ Niall snores.”

“Oi, fuck off.” Niall says, nuzzling against Levinia’s jean clad thigh as she tosses the blanket over him.

Niall kicks and toes at the blanket until it’s covering him entirely. Levinia laughs softly, her own fatigue finally beginning to set in. Tonight had gone well, she thinks. Niall had remained in good spirits while Harry’s turkey and apple sandwiches had tasted delicious despite her apprehension. She knows it could have been an entirely different night, so she’s happy to relax into the sofa as Niall begins to drift off.

“Hey, Ina?” Niall’s voice is thick and hoarse with fatigue.

“Yeah?” She responds, dragging her eyes away from the television screen in front of her.

“Glad that one good thing came out of that day.” He says and she can hear the lilt in his words as he begins to drift off.

“Me too, Ni. Me too.”

[brenli]

[[length warninnnngu]]

Rules: you must answer these 85 statements and tag 20 whoever the fuck you want

Tagged by: @goddamnitkastle (Thank youuuuu~)

Tagging: @annabelle-poe @halorecoil @chocostains @direngreyofmyheart @malevolentqueenofspiders @claudia86c @laura--howlett @lemonedscream @aflawedfashion @kareink @catchild @candybunnieholic @thisisntmyrealhair @ominous-communication @borgiabastard @evilwriter37 @lesbomancy @myguiltyghost @rococo-royalty @celestialcollectionaus

The Last:

1. drink: Blue Moon, Honey Wheat.

2. phone call: The Honey’s youngest brother, asking to get picked up at the driving school (he just passed his written test today~)

3. text message: Roommate P, ranting about the road block on I-90 around Vantage due to the brush fire.

4. song you listened to: The last SONG song was “Mama I’m Coming Home” Ozzy, but the last music overall that I listened to was the BGM for The Keepers.

5. time you cried: Prolly a few months back during one of the times I got a little TOO frustrated about how like, a large percentage of my life is boxed up.

6. dated someone twice: I dunno I guess my last date was when I went to see Baby Driver and basically any date with the Honey is an additional date so???

7. kissed someone and regretted it: If I have any regretful kisses they happened literally over 15 years ago. I dunno. Maybe the guy that bit my thighass area without my consent; I did kiss him prior to the biting incident. (It’s okay I hit him across the face and that was the end of that dumbness so.)

8. been cheated on: No.

9. lost someone special: When Uncle Pete passed on, which was Christmastime 2009. Christmastime used to be a little hard because of it; now the joy comes back in remembering his big Texan self.

10. been depressed: There is a part of me that feels like this is a weird question to ask someone who has depression always kind of humming in the background, but I guess the last time I let it CONSUME me was, again, a few months back when I was a little TOO frustrated about being so boxed up. While I like the work I’m doing up here more than what I was doing down there, the fact remains that this was not what I was led to believe I would be coming into. I don’t want to spend the time ranting poetic about it; it would take too long. The short of it is I’m unhappy with what feels like being misled, and even more unhappy with knowing I can’t really leave it right away. It’s been a little too easy to get eaten up, because of it. I don’t talk about it when it happens, because people always want to come at it with solutions, and there isn’t one. That’s not how this situation works. And for that matter, that’s not how depression as a mental illness works; sometimes you’re sad because you’re sad and you just have to kind of. Work through it. Process it.

11. gotten drunk and thrown up: Uhhhhhh, probably C’s bachelorette party, which was back in 2012. 

Favorite Colors:

12. I refuse to answer this in the traditional manner screw this I hate fave color questions. XD I adore, stark black and white, sometimes with a splash of red.

13. Anything from burnished bronze and coppers to brilliant, pure golds to warm, old ivories.

14. I used to really not feel the classic Snow White primary colors kind of palette, but it’s grown on me over time - blues and reds and yellows.

In The Last Year Have You:

15. made new friend: Yes~

16. fallen out of love: No.

17. laughed until you cried: Yesterday.

18. found out someone was talking about you: Also yesterday.

19. met someone who changed you: I guess I kinda feel like everyone a person meets changes said person on some kinda level, even if only minutely. The last person to change me immensely was, I guess Dr. Lund.

20. found out who your friends are: I feel like I’m always finding out who my friends are. XD

21. kissed someone on your facebook list: Well the Honey is on my FB list so.

General

22. how many of your facebook friends do you know in real life: Pretty sure all of them, excluding public figure pages. Seeing as my FB is locked down from ever-watching eyes. (Sometimes I wonder what people think of my life what with me periodically mentioning being watched and my boxed up life and all sorts of weird stuff. XD)

23. do you have any pets: I have a Chocobean! There are also two other cats in the house and two dogs, who are technically claimed by others, but you know how it is when you’re sharing a space with multiple people who all have pets. It just becomes like, the pet COMMUNITY and we’re all taking care of the pet COMMUNITY basically.

24. do you want to change your name: In my youth I wanted to, very badly. Around mid-to-late highschool days I ultimately embraced my name, enough to make it the root for my online handles.

25. what did you do for your last birthday: I enjoyed the Anaguran sky and also went to watch Star Trek Beyond at the Chinese Theater in Hollywood. Got the metal popcorn tin and everything.

26. what time did you wake up: Around 8:45AM.

27. what were you doing at midnight last night: Watching Philip Defranco.

28. name something you can’t wait for: The Punisher for sure for sure for sure!!! Also, P securing a freaking house with freaking space so I can finally fully unbox my life, and for the conclusion of my AS series notes that I’ve been doing as a book club type situation with @halorecoil, which will help me a lot for CotF going forward. Or P securing a house with space so I can unbox my life and finally fine my note sheet. Whichever. XD

29. when was the last time you saw your mom: December 2016.

31. what are you listening to right now: The AC, a place going by (again), Frankie hissing at my Chocobean and Chocobean not giving a single fuzzy fuck about it. XD

32. have you ever talked to a person named tom: Yeah. He was obsessed with some box. (Not really; we were performing a scene together and his CHARACTER was obsessed with some box. XD)

33. something that is getting on your nerves: SO I’VE BEEN GETTING ACTIVELY CONSUMED BY MOSQUITOS THE PAST 4 DAYS AND YOU THINK I’M KIDDING BUT I’M AT ALMOST 40 BITES NOW AND I’M GETTING UPSET ABOUT IT BECAUSE ALL THE BITES ARE SWOLLEN AND ITCHY AND RED I LOOK FUCKING TERRIBLE AND WANT TO PEEL MY SKIN OFF. 8)

34. most visited website: Tumblr. Youtube. Pinterest. Instagram.

35. hair color: Dark brown (with some natural red/auburn highlight situation going on if it’s under direct light).

36. long or short hair: Long on me, long on my Honey.

37. do you have a crush on someone: Flaming hot. On my Honey

38. what do you like about yourself: My hair, my hips.

39. piercings: Just the one hole in each earlobe. I had a navel ring but had to take it out when it started showing signs of rejection. T.T I want it back, very badly. As well as a septum ring.

40. blood type: O positive. HEY GUYS DID YOU KNOW THAT MOSQUITOS PREFER TYPE O BLOOD. DID YOU. DID YOU KNOW. BECAUSE I KNOW. I KNOW FROM FIRST HAND EXPERIENCE.

41. nickname: Bren.

42. relationship status: Married.

43. zodiac: Leo.

44. pronouns: She/her

45. favorite tv show: Man this is really a mood thing, but I guess my earliest favorite is Star Trek TOS. I’m a sucker for way back when’s like The Tudors, The Borgias, Marco Polo. House of Cards is divine, and Daredevil.

46. tattoos: Inkless, though I like to think of ideas. 

47. right or left handed: Leftie~

48. surgery: The only one I’ve ever had was to get all four wisdom teeth taken out.

49. piercing: Repeat questions are for chumps.

50. sport: I’m not a sporty type, but I enjoy volleyball? If dance can be considered a sport I done BEEN interested but haven’t learned anything. 

51. vacation: Boracayyyyyyyy~! Also, the Normandy region of France.

52. pair of trainers: I dunno Mama gave me a pair of black and hot pink running shoes?

More General

53. eating: Air.

54. drinking: Air.

55. i’m about to: Rest.

56. waiting for: Space.

57. want: Getaway.

58. get married: Already.

59. career: Storytelling.

60. hugs or kisses: Both.

61. lips or eyes: Both.

62. shorter or taller: Just right.

63. older or younger: Either make me 4, 19, or 75. XD

64. nice arms or nice stomach: Arms.

65. hook up or relationship: Relationship.

66. troublemaker or hesitant: A Hesitant Troublemaker.

67. kissed a stranger: Then he bit my thighass and that ended that.

68. drank hard liquor: July 4th.

69. lost glasses/contact lenses: I’ve actually never lost either.

70. turned someone down: April 2016.

71. sex on the first date: Depends on what I’m trying to get out of said date prolly.

72. broken someone’s heart: The Honey’s, once.

73. had your heart broken: By the Honey, once.

74. been arrested: No.

75. cried when someone died: Yes.

76. fallen for a friend: The Honey is a friend so.

Do You Believe In:

77. yourself: Yes?

78. miracles: Yes, but not always what we’re specifically hoping for, and thus not always acknowledged.

79. love at first sight: Like at first sight.

80. santa claus: Saint Nick, yeah.

81. kiss on the first date: Gotta give ‘em something to remember you know.

82. angels: Yes.

Other

83. current best friend’s name: Lorie, Jael Face

84. eye color: Brown.

85. favorite movie: A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984), which is a great way to end this because I don’t know how expected that was. XD

[bsides-of-roygbiv]

lightbeams&blur

I’m shooting through space 1000 light beams a minute (so FAST) and nobody can see my cuz imjustablurimjustablur and suddenly I realize that my eyes were never open in the first place/the black over took me, I wasn’t looking, my eyes could not see (take me to the sea). 1000 grains a second shooting through all of my divets rendering me incapable, rendering me unable (the un of “able”), shooting back towards earth, my eyes don’t see, my fingers don’t feel (gravity) and so here I am plummeting straight back towards the blue and green—correctabilities, certainly enough have been activated, hahah motherfucker, I’ve got the teacher’s special red pen used for correcting and i’m telling your dad you’re a fucking homo

And so correct we shall, shooting away from the green, stuck somewhere sickly in between both of them (in the gray), but we’ve still got some yellow, that’s all that matters—stuck all in the hills scrimmaging for recognition and capacity, we’re all stuffed up without any air to breathe/i found my way into the vent and I can’t get out again.

And in the blackness I will suffer, sticky sweaty and sultry all wrapped up in thinness trying to play itself off as thickness in fancy backyard fire places (do you like how thick I am), i’m dancing exactly (pinpointed) on my toes navigating weird white spaces where I’m making you chocolate chip pancakes and the sun is flooding our insides (ow, i can’t breathe)

The light beams have lost some of their power and the rainbow doesn’t look as bright anymore/is there anyway to retain a rainbow (stick it)/once I saw it in a field in the morning and I didn’t know nothing but myself and capabilities and realities of my fingers

The light beams have lost some of their power and I’m kissing your insides (the insides, side of thighs, your sighs), ohhhhhh baby fuck me right there I’m infinitely dreaming about you but I’m being stopped on the streets by the ribs of golden gods (shorter than)/i haven’t eaten ribs in a long time/ he stopped me on the street and I toothy smiled the whole way home ‘cept my hat didn’t blow off this time.

I’m blurry when all of it hits, the new backgrounds, the words (yours/ours) and I’m blurry when I see configurations of real life/time atoms interacting with my spaces, infiltrating and excavating we’re sweating through middle of the night heat separately longing for intertwining (i’ve gotta stop this whining) arms and toes breathing in sunshine on sunday mornings/ I’ll never take sugar in my coffee cuz i’m not a pussy

Breaching seems so curious in the middle of the day, stranded in the middle of the beach unable to reconfigure, I’ve been unable to figure how many times—whether it was a tris or not, did any eights ever surface? Surfacing and breaching, re-arousing hundreds of mouths spread out over eight weeks, your magic is mystifying/beyond the scope/outside of reach/look!

Spring forward the summation of all of our breaths, three weeks and the tris still haunts me. In different formations, different molds (I molded you, I did) with clay hands and achy lips. Breaching all the while reaching for my tris of Black Subarus, for my incoherently inconsistent chapters for the negative balance with a side of Breakfast Burritos for the understanding of sameness/not knowing yourself…did you know I shouldn’t be driving right now, malfunctioning with the sand in my bed, I need a nap and my words have all been spilled, there’s beans all over the floor motherfucker/i’m gonna do a shitty job cleaning up/are there any more clean towels?/stop texting me, i hate you.

[nqtkwtn]

1: Is there a boy/girl in your life? Romantically, there's one boy that I actually cares about, a lot. 2: Think of the last person who hurt you; do you forgive them? In the end I forgive everyone. 3: What do you think of when you hear the word “meow?” Cat(?!) Maybe Tony Stark bc he's like a cat?? (sorry not sorry) 4: What’s something you really want right now? To see my mother I miss you 5: Are you afraid of falling in love? I'm afraid to fall hard in love, go slow doesn't hurt anyone 6: Do you like the beach? YAS 7: Have you ever slept on a couch with someone else? Ugh let me think, probably with friend 8: What’s the background on your cell? Plam tree in the purple sky. Very aesthetic I gotta say 9: Name the last four beds you were sat on? -Mine in my room -My friend's resort -My host sister's -idk im not in that many beds 10: Do you like your phone? Hate the fact that the amount of memory I get are not enough. 11: Honestly, are things going the way you planned? I don't really know, does anything ever go as planned? 12: Who was the last person whose phone number you added to your contacts? thb I don't remember no one calls me 13: Would you rather have a poodle or a Rottweiler? Why not both? My neighbour have an adorable, fat, and so not agressive Rottweiler. But poodle are cute and quiet; I like peace. 14: Which hurts the most, physical or emotional pain? Emotional 15: Would you rather visit a zoo or an art museum? ART MUSEUM ANYTIME CONCEPT OF THE ZOO ARE JUST LIKE OH YEAH WHAT PROVILAGE WE HAVE TO JUST LOCK ANIMALS UP AND BOOM WE GET MONEY FROM THAT???!?? 16: Are you tired? YES SO TIRED 17: How long have you known your 1st phone contact? My whole life (hello mother) 18: Are they a relative? uh yes 19: Would you ever consider getting back together with any of your exes? I have one. And if he love me back (which is kind of impossible) then totally. 20: When did you last talk to the last person you shared a kiss with? That time I kiss him. 21: If you knew you had the right person, would you marry them today? No I would want to do a lot of stuff that you won't get to do if you are married. 22: Would you kiss the last person you kissed again? I don't think so. Though he's a good kisser. 23: How many bracelets do you have on your wrists right now? One. And that's my hairband. #standardwoman 24: Is there a certain quote you live by? Cannot think of one. Though there's a lot I like about science, art, and phylosophy. 25: What’s on your mind? Religions are kind of create wars and personally it is dumb I'm so angry. 26: Do you have any tattoos? No. I wish! My mom would kill me totally. 27: What is your favorite color? Black and White is the classic! For color-color, have to be mustard yellow, plant green (like dark green). 28: Next time you will kiss someone on the lips? Totally 29: Who are you texting? No one ever 30: Think to the last person you kissed, have you ever kissed them on a couch? Nope it was very casual. 31: Have you ever had the feeling something bad was going to happen and you were right? A lot and that's not a good thing 32: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex you can talk to? Yes and I live for them they are the best human existed in my life ever thank you 33: Do you think anyone has feelings for you? I think there's one or two, but really not sure. 34: Has anyone ever told you you have pretty eyes? Yes but I don't think that was honest bc my eyes are boring af. 35: Say the last person you kissed was kissing someone right in front of you? I wouldn't care that much since I don't care about him. 36: Were you single on Valentines Day? Yes to the lastest one. 37: Are you friends with the last person you kissed? Yes 38: What do your friends call you? Nine 39: Has anyone upset you in the last week? Oh yes I'm a women of triggered 40: Have you ever cried over a text? Yes it's horrible don't do it 41: Where’s your last bruise located? My knee, it hurt like hell 42: What is it from? Have NO idea. 43: Last time you wanted to be away from somewhere really bad? Month of March, my life was kind of shit and I want to go home. 44: Who was the last person you were on the phone with? One of my exchange friend, we literally talked for the first time ever. 45: Do you have a favourite pair of shoes? My white adidas superstar, or my cheap sandals that I prefer over burkenstock. 46: Do you wear hats if your having a bad hair day? Depends on my mood. 47: Would you ever go bald if it was the style? Totally 48: Do you make supper for your family? Rearly. I'm not that good at cooking. 49: Does your bedroom have a door? If there's none I would have killed myself by now. 50: Top 3 web-pages? twitter, tumblr, ao3 51: Do you know anyone who hates shopping? Yes like almost all males in my life. (Except my exchange friend they are like crazy at shopping) 52: Does anything on your body hurt? My back is quite sore rn 53: Are goodbyes hard for you? Sometimes. 54: What was the last beverage you spilled on yourself? Water. And intentionally. 55: How is your hair? Dry af bc I didn't wash it after swimming in the chrorine swimming pool 56: What do you usually do first in the morning? Grab my f phone 57: Do you think two people can last forever? If they really REALLYYYYY lucky maybe 58: Think back to January 2007, were you single? Oh yeah I wasn't dating anyone when I was seven I don't think 59: Green or purple grapes? GREEN ARE THE BEST 60: When’s the next time you will give someone a BIG hug? When I have to leave everyone of this country and when I met the fimiliar faces. 61: Do you wish you were somewhere else right now? Yes. On a beach, aesthetically tropical. Away from all the BS 62: When will be the next time you text someone? Prob tmr 63: Where will you be 5 hours from now? In this bed I ain't going nowhere 64: What were you doing at 8 this morning. Sleeping like a dead person 65: This time last year, can you remember who you liked? No one ever 66: Is there one person in your life that can always make you smile? Hmmmm not always but prob my cousin she's like the sweetest thing 67: Did you kiss or hug anyone today? Nope 68: What was your last thought before you went to bed last night? It's okay. Not having panick attack or depression is nice. 69: Have you ever tried your hardest and then gotten disappointed in the end? Tbh I don't feel like I ever go all out on something bf 70: How many windows are open on your computer? Prob like 5 71: How many fingers do you have? 10 72: What is your ringtone? That's a good question 73: How old will you be in 5 months? 17 yas bitch 74: Where is your Mum right now? Working 75: Why aren’t you with the person you were first in love with or almost in love? We broke up 76: Have you held hands with somebody in the past three days? My friend 77: Are you friends with the people you were friends with two years ago? No 78: Do you remember who you had a crush on in year 7? Yep bc he'a my ex 79: Is there anyone you know with the name Mike? Phoebe's boyfriend in Friends. 80: Have you ever fallen asleep in someones arms? No oh not that romantic 81: How many people have you liked in the past three months? A lot 82: Has anyone seen you in your underwear in the last 3 days? Not the last 3 days, the last 3 weeks would be a yes. 83: Will you talk to the person you like tonight? No 84: You’re drunk and yelling at hot guys/girls out of your car window, you’re with? Mary 85: If your BF/GF was into drugs would you care? I will care if it's effect their physical or mental health 86: What was the most eventful thing that happened last time you went to see a movie? The fucking butter (in the popcorn) went through my fucking favorite jeans and I'm forever mad. 87: Who was your last received call from? My exchange friend 88: If someone gave you $1,000 to burn a butterfly over a candle, would you? You can buy me with money go ahead I'll do it. (But will feel extremely guilty) 89: What is something you wish you had more of? social skill, life skill, money, good friends, time 90: Have you ever trusted someone too much? Oh yesss this is sensitive subject it hurt like a bitch 91: Do you sleep with your window open? No never I'd be so f paraniod 92: Do you get along with girls? Sometimes, depends. Mostly I'm good though. 93: Are you keeping a secret from someone who needs to know the truth? No 94: Does sex mean love? Not always 95: You’re locked in a room with the last person you kissed, is that a problem? If sex is problem then yes? 96: Have you ever kissed anyone with a lip ring? No 97: Did you sleep alone this week? All week bro 98: Everybody has somebody that makes them happy, do you? Sometimes, I don't like to depend my emotion on certain people bc they are so temporary 99: Do you believe in love at first sight? no 100: Who was the last person that you pinky promise? my host sister