Wreckless - It's been a Rough Week

*Warning Adult Content*

Emmett

Finnegan has woken up twice.

That may not be accurate.

He's gotten out of bed twice.

Once he went to the bathroom and this time he went downstairs.

I hope he's been sleeping in between but I'm starting to worry he's not.

"Darling?"

He's standing in front of the window and jumps a bit when I speak even though I said it softly.

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you up."

"Not worried about it. Can't sleep?"

"No."

"The alarm is on and I'm here, Finnegan."

I'm not stupid though... I know that's now how sleep or fear works.

"Come here and snuggle."

He does, thankfully and I wrap him up.

He smells so good... it's his cologne.

He has fancy shit that wears forever but luckily he doesn't overdo it.

I can only smell it now because we're practically molded together.

I have to kick the sheet off, the window AC can't keep up with this much shared body heat but I'm fine with that.

"Thanks. I'll sleep better tomorrow night."

I'm not sure if he's reassuring me or convincing himself.

"Probably. It's Sunday, maybe you can sneak a nap in."

"Yeah, after Mass I should. Sounds decadent. Thought about working but I'm not sure I have enough brain."

"No, I draw the line at working. Cartoon, snack, snuggle, all good."

Twenty minutes later I'm back asleep.

It's been a rough week.

Finnegan is busy.

He's only left the house with me one morning... he's been gone when I woke up every other day.

On Wednesday he was home for dinner but he's starting to worry me... there's working hard and then working yourself to death.

He's not sleeping great.

I'm not either.

The more I worry about him, the less sleep I get.

It's a vicious cycle.

Friday night and finally, he sleeps well.

He falls asleep before me and practically doesn't move all night.

No wonder, he's got to be exhausted.

Luckily I got dinner and some lovies into him before then and I don't have to work this Saturday so it's all good.

Maybe we're over the hump.. hump... I'm awful.

I spend most of Saturday trying to woo 'Little Finn' out.

I make little pancakes, we play Lego Harry Potter and I offer to take him to play mini-golf or go bowling and hit the arcade but he turns me down.

Mostly, I spend the day ignoring my birthday.

I don't have some sob story about not celebrating... I just don't.

It seems pointless to me.

All I've done is breathe for another year and that doesn't seem cake and balloon worthy.

At least Finnegan sleeps well even if there's no appearance of 'Little Finn'.

I miss that kid.

Finnegan can't be happy without him... he can't be.

********

Finnegan is at Mass which is good... he always seems a bit calmer when he comes back and this week he definitely needs some peace and calm.

Just before he's due home, Andy rings the bell.

I know it's Andy because his face pops up on my damn cell-phone.

I swear, there absolutely is such a thing as too much technology.

I let him in and he has pizza and beer and a Styrofoam container holding a piece of cake.

It's nice of him, really.

It's also weird.

I text Finnegan that Andy is over so he's not surprised when he gets home and ten minutes later he walks in the door.

"Hey Emmett, Andy. Ooh, is there any pizza left?"

"Yeah."

He beelines for the kitchen while my brain screams at me that you can't eat pizza in good clothes.

"Hey, is it your birthday, Andy?"

He's leaning against the door frame, pizza folded.

He's so cute but his question is gonna cause trouble.

He must have seen the cake... shit.

Andy just laughs.

"Nah. It's just this ass-hole's," he teases, tapping my beer.

Shit, now I drink.

At least it gives me a minute although it's really hard to think while chugging.

Finnegan waits until I'm finished and then very slowly, like he's trying not to yell, says...

"It's your birthday?"

Now I have to make it worse.

This is not how I wanted today to go.

"Yesterday."

Andy's eyes are wide, he realizes the severity of what's going on and just puts his bottle down.

"I just remembered, I've gotta.. uh.."

"I'd leave too, Andy... if I was you and after just dropping that bomb-shell," I joke.

"But thanks.... it was nice of you to think of me."

"You should have come by the alley last night like you said you would... then I wouldn't have had to cart this crap over here. Uh, see you later Finnegan."

I don't know where to start but as soon as the door closes I work on limiting the most recent damage.

"He asked me to and I said I might."

He's put his pizza down, shit.

His arms are crossed over his chest and he's mad.

"Look, some people make a big deal out of birthdays but I don't. I didn't want to do anything."

He's still quiet and it's somehow worse than him yelling.

I give him a minute but no, nothing.

Eventually he just walks past me and heads upstairs.

[kicks down a door]

HEY WHO WANTS A DCA FIC I’VE BEEN WORKING ON FOR [checks notes] ALMOST TWO YEARS???

I don’t know why tumblr is insisting on the link being called “New Session”, I really don’t, I think it’s just tumblr being tumblr, the fic is called “Denoting Self”

This one is near and dear to my heart and features a headcanon of mine which is also near and dear to my heart and also pervades everything that I write for this fandom bc I just... I can’t read it any other way, okay

So all that said

Diath Woodrow is autistic and you can’t change my mind and I hope you enjoy this fic which is a very long (and hopefully enjoyable) way of me going “HEY EVERYONE PLEASE LISTEN TO MY HEADCANON ABOUT DIATH’S NEUROTYPE”

Mother Miranda x Lawyer!Oc ----Tilted Scales

Hello guys :) This is another commission I wrote for the amazing, wonderful @saltwatereulogies

Your support has been insane, I can't thank you enough. Hope you enjoy the story ❣

Three days.

That is how long you've been in the village, after years of studying abroad, before everything turns to shit.

As you slowly blink focus back into your eyes, you try to clear the haze from your mind. It feels as though you've collided with a truck. Your body hurts, your wrists protest in their iron cuffs, stuck to the wall as they are, having supported your weight while you were unconscious.

Desperately, you try to recollect the events that led you here...

A grey sky. A bleak day. One moment you were making coffee for your mother, excited to be able to sit down with her in the mornings again... and the next you heard the echo of screams.

Overcome by adrenaline, you bolted out of your house, only to witness a scene straight from a nightmare; humanoid monsters ripping villagers apart, cries and blood and animalistic growls all blending together into one mad mix.

And before you could even warn your mother...

Damn it all, what the fuck happened!

You suddenly struggle against your bonds, hard enough to rattle your whole frame. Your wrists burn from the grind against metal, but you don't care–

“Stop that. It is pointless and you will only injure yourself.” A cold voice, strangely familiar, says from far to your right.

You peer deep into the shadows, searching for the only other person in the empty room... until you see her. A mask advances on you, gold and shaped like a crow's visage, then wings folded into a cloak come into view.

You would be a fool to not recognize her. The local saint. The village's prophet. The very 'saint' your mother prayed to, for your safe return, all these years. Mother Miranda.

The sound of her heels bounces off the walls until she comes to stand directly in front of you. Looking past the openings of her mask now, you realize....

This isn't possible.

She hasn't aged a day. Not a single day, since you left the village. The years should show around her deadly blue eyes, somewhere, and yet they don't.

“I see you remember me...” she says, while you're still trying to find your voice. “Miss Warren.”

“What is going on? Mother Miranda, what happened to the village?!” you demand.

Her expression shows nothing. “The village is in need of... renovation.” she speaks, even, regal. “Repopulation, even.”

You stare at her with wide eyes.

“Now, don't give me that look. You would not be here if you weren't of the ones I chose to keep.” she continues. “You see, from now on, every single person in my domain will make themselves useful in some way, or they will be replaced. And you... you have been abroad studying law for a while now, yes?”

“I... yes.” you reply, still not fully having wrapped your mind around your situation.

“Excellent. What I need from you is simple. You will make the village independent from the state’s taxes as a religious organization... and you will keep foreign investors out from that point onward.”

What... what part of that is simple?!

“Do that for me and in return I guarantee your mother and you will go back to your house safe and sound. You will have no shortage of Lei for as long as you live, Miss Warren.” Miranda promises.

But it is not the sweet part of the deal your mind stays glued to. “And if...” you gulp. “If I can't work around the law to do that...?”

Miranda blinks slowly at you, like you shouldn't even ask such a basic question. Like the answer is obvious.

“Well. Then I have no further use for either of you.”

It is in this moment that it dawns on you.

This woman is no angel and no saint.

She is a devil.

-

-

You spend countless sleepless nights pouring over every single paragraph, every little opening or ambiguity in the law you can use to free the village of taxes.

To keep your mother in the dark about this, you work in the office Mother Miranda has provided for you, in her very stronghold.

Although technically it's her home, you don't see her nearly as much as you initially thought. She is gone throughout the day and returns late at night, not even sparing you a glance before heading for her chambers, at the upper sections of the building.

The days she does come into your office to inquire on your progress are few and far-between, your conversations always short and cold.

This evening is different.

“How is your work coming along, Miss Warren?” the prophetess asks with her aggravatingly nice accent, seating herself like a queen on the chair in front of your desk.

Your eyes are tired, but you force them on hers, through the mask obscuring her face. “I think I've got it. I'll be sending the necessary papers tomorrow and the answer shouldn't take longer than a month.”

“Very good.” she nods, a miniscule curve to her lips.

Icy eyes then drop to the wine in the whiskey glass at the corner of the desk. You think she will make a comment about drinking at work, but instead she says;

“Pour me a glass, will you?”

You will your hands steady as you comply, then carefully slide her drink over.

Miranda takes her mask with claw-shrouded fingers... and soundnessly sets it on the wooden surface. Then she pushes the veil at her hair back, shaking long, platinum locks free.

You do a double take you hope she doesn't notice. Because what the actual fuck.

You didn't think her hair was that long, or that straight, or that it would fall over her shoulders like she's staring in a shampoo ad. You didn't think her lips were shaped like a cupid's bow or that her skin was this flawless and radiant.

The helplessly lesbian part of you could begrudgingly admit she was beautiful before... but now you arrive to the painful realization she's drop-dead gorgeous.

“So. I've heard you won cases others would describe as impossible.” she begins.

“Nothing's impossible. You just need to know where to look.” you reply. Law is your comfort zone and she is not that far above you here. “But how do you know that?”

“I have my sources.”

"Nobody truly leaves this village, huh.”

“Not without my consent, no. But I knew you'd come back.” At your slight frown, she elaborates, “You would never leave your mother behind.”

She's right. There was a whole world of opportunities waiting for you out there and yet... here you are.

“Good work, so far. You can take the next two days off. Your eyes could use the rest, Miss Warren.” Miranda speaks, finishing her wine.

“Sarah.” you say. 'Miss Warren' is for clients and she is your boss.

Miranda's lips give a slight quirk that may or may not be a trick of the light.

“I know.” she replies and exits the room, long hair billowing behind her back.

-

-

The taxes were only the first challenge. Now that the village is free of them, investors are flying in circles around it like vultures over meat.

In the meantime, Miranda comes to talk to you more frequently.

Lately, it seems she has more free time. You wish that was a good thing, but...

“So... are you like... going to stay here?” You ask after reading the same sentence five times to make sense of it, because her gaze on you is distracting as fuck.

“I'm not getting in the way of your work.” she says. You want to argue she is, but can't quite do that in a way that won't get you killed.

“I'm simply not used to working with company. Isn't this boring for you?”

“No, actually. I find it interesting, even though science is my field of expertise.” she answers. “And the way you take notes is… amusing.”

You try not to blush as you look down at your notebook, filled with different colored markers and post-it squares with tiny stick figures pointing to the more important paragraphs. You have been doing this for so long to sort out information you didn't even realize you were keeping it up in her presence.

“What is this supposed to be?” she asks with a small smile, the first of its kind you've seen.

To your horror, her clawed pointer aims at a particularly silly doodle, barely the size of a pencil's eraser.

“A... bird.” you grimace like you've been stabbed.

“Ah, of course.” Miranda holds back a chuckle but you can tell she's dying to make a comment.

Studying becomes hell for the rest of the time she's there with you, those sharp eyes picking apart every little move you make. At the same time, though, the hours you spend with her make you realize...

She's not a saint, though she may look like one. She's not completely a devil, either, even if she may act as one, at times.

She's human.

-

-

Miranda shares nothing about herself when you chat, but she seems to like it when you speak about your time abroad and all the things that left an impression on you there.

Your conversation over wine is cut short, however, when you receive a call from a number you learned means nothing but trouble, lately.

“Sorry, I have to take this.” you tell her.

The one calling you is none other than this month's rival lawyer, trying to dispute your claim over the land for his own boss. He's lost to you before, so it's also personal, but you are confident you have cornered them good with the latest papers you sent them...

And you are proven correct, when, a few seconds later, he is all faux polite on the other line, resorting to offering you money for you to withdraw your arguments.

Miranda comes to stand next to you, listening in to what he's saying.

The problem with that is, the second her arm brushes yours and you catch a whiff of her perfume –which always lingers in your office long after she's left— youare the one who stops listening to him.

Your attention flies to other things, like the inches she has on you, the exact color of her pale blonde hair, the little glint of victory in her stunning eyes.

Oh, no. God, no...

You know what this is, the feeling in the pit of your stomach. Alarm bells go off in the back of your head, as though your own mind is telling your body how foolish it's being.

There isn't a worse thing you can do to yourself than be attracted to Miranda.

-

-

Over time, familiarity with the prophetess brings higher levels of difficulty into your 'try to ignore your crush on her' game.

Miranda joins your side and leans over your shoulder, sometimes, to peer down at what you're doing. You don't move and don't breathe until she's within a safe distance again.

Then there are the wayward 'reward' touches, when you turn another investor away from the village. She may pat your back or leave her hand on your shoulder, or even scratch your nape with her claws as a job well done.

You hope your poker face hides the fact you feel her touch on you for far longer than you should, after she's gone.

Tonight, the situation is the toughest it's ever been for you.

There is a rainstorm going on outside; the waterdrops are tapping against the windows of your office as though they're trying to break it. Miranda has pulled her chair next to you so you can talk easier, without having to shout over the cacophony.

“And basically the judge's decision was that—”

You are interrupted by a blinding flash of lighting, during which your mind lets you know the stronghold is easily the tallest structure in it's vicinity—

When thunder cracks down the sky and strikes the building, you nearly scream. Your body tenses and you jump; but Miranda's hands come to your biceps and hold you steady, against herself and your desk.

Another flash comes before you really have time to think about your proximity. She covers your ears with her palms before the thunderclap can send you into overdrive again.

“You are with me and you're scared of a little thunder?” she teases when things quiet down and your heartbeat eases.

It's true; Miranda is the more terrifying force of nature. At the same time, however...

You feel oddly safe to be this close to her.

“Well... I'm not scared right now...” you quietly admit.

Her pointer comes underneath your chin and lifts it so you are looking straight into her hypnotic blue eyes. How is this color even real...

“And why is that?” Miranda asks, her wings coming around you both. They're curtains of black, cutting out some of the storm's sounds.

You want nothing more in this moment than to run your fingers through each individual feather.

You lick your lips. That's...not a question you can answer if you want the balance in your arrangement with her to remain.

Perhaps, though, the scales have tilted for you long ago. You just haven't been brave enough to admit it.

You have the courage to face it now when she leans down and covers your lips with hers, warm in a manner you never imagined she could be.

Her wings pull tighter around you and your mouths slide more firmly together. Lipbalm and creamy lipstick mix, tongues brush, tasting of wine. You are shaking so bad on the inside from how much you want this, more of this, the rumbling of the thunder be damned.

Miranda's palm cups your flaming cheek when she pulls back, perfectly composed and staring at you with a little smirk in place.

You dare to turn a little, lay a tiny kiss on the inside of her wrist, beyond her rings and accessories.

You aren't very fond of storms, but...

You willingly walk right into the eye of this one.

아 그리고 달이 참 밝네요 | seventeen wonwoo

loosely based on 180906 wonwoo ending ment during ideal cut in japan, enjoy!

it is thursday, specifically a rainy one at night. you have just finished your work and ready to leave the office until a certain notification from your phone caught your attention.

[Jeon Wonwoo]: Are you still up for the dinner? You know that we can always reschedule it.

oh my, the mere mention of his name already made your senses overwhelmed in a good way.

jeon wonwoo is... a childhood friend? your long-time crush? the only one who succeeded at making you feel home by simply looking at his cat-like eyes? well, you like to call him your kindest companion; more than a treasured childhood friend but less than the love of your life despite the thought of you actually loving him seriously has occurred several times—feelings are scary when they involve someone you’ve known your whole life, you thought.

your senses regained their composure and you quickly responded to wonwoo’s text.

[You]: yes, i’m still up. i’ll be waiting outside the building, just text me when you got here.

[Jeon Wonwoo]: Wait inside the lobby, it’s raining.

with that being said, you're doing as wonwoo asked that is waiting for him inside the lobby.

for more context, wonwoo and you are childhood friends. you both used to attend the same school since kindergarten but got ‘separated’ during university and this made you initially assumed that you both would drift apart, though what happened was the total opposite. you both managed to keep in touch by texting and/or facetiming at ungodly hour, either ranting about troublesome projects or breaking down over stressful finals week. you've seen each other in your most vulnerable states and surely it strengthened the bond between.

after a little over fifteen minutes of waiting, your vision caught a familiar tall figure in a typical urban office worker attire, his slightly wet hair almost reached his cat-like eyes, also the round glasses that you always find endearing on him from time to time—it's no other than wonwoo.

"did you wait long? i have the umbrella with me."

"i'm sure you know the answer to that question," you grinned. "you're not the type to make others wait and if it's you i know i can wait for an eternity."

wonwoo just chuckled at your remarks and you both made your way to his car while sharing the umbrella. after putting the umbrella in the backseat, wonwoo drove the way to the agreed restaurant. the restaurant was nice, you both enjoyed the meals and managed to talk about a lot of stuff. then it was almost midnight when wonwoo suggested that he should drive you home soon as the both of you still have work tomorrow.

"i'll walk you until the elevator," wonwoo said as the sight of your apartment's building started to be visible.

"okay."

you've already stepped inside the elevator yet wonwoo is still there—just a few steps in front of the elevator, but instead of facing you, his eyes are glued to the lobby's window that is displaying the night sky. right before the elevator's door got closed, wonwoo turned his back then said-

"oh and the moon is so bright."

suddenly, your mind is being flooded with a particular high school memory. there were wonwoo and you baring younger facial features, wearing the sunkissed school uniforms, sitting next to each other in the town's library after school. he was reading a copy of natsume soseki's cat and you were doing your physics homework. it was quiet until wonwoo said something that you still hold closely until this day.

"did you know that the saying 'the moon is beautiful' or ‘the moon is so bright’ could be interpreted as 'i love you'?"

"hm? no... i guess?" you responded, a bit surprised.

“it is said that when natsume soseki was still working as a high school english teacher,” wonwoo started to explain with his index finger pointing to the name ‘natsume soseki’ on the book he was reading. “he told his students that men shouldn’t say ‘i love you’ blatantly in english, saying ‘the moon is beautiful or so bright’ is enough—it reeks of fragile masculinity and stuff but all things aside, don’t you think it’s such a romantic line to tell your beloved?"

you took a while to process it, “why the moon though? i think the rainbow could have been a better choice instead.”

"it is widely believed that the particular image soseki or at least the people at that time had was someone walking home their beloved at night and during nighttime the thing that stood out the most was the moon, though i have my own opinion about it.”

“i want to know your opinion about it," wonwoo and his thoughts are always interesting anyways.

wonwoo scored a gentle smile, "the moon could be interpreted as the symbol of eternity, it has been going through its phases even before the humanity discovered how the solar system works and might even continue when the world went mad. the moon also always looked so serene and still as if it’s a faithful soul. those traits are valued in the art of loving someone hence the moon is the proper symbol of love.”

you hummed in agreement—see, wonwoo and his thoughts are always interesting.

later the day, wonwoo walked you home. yet right before you close your household's door, he said something with his eyes glued to the night sky.

"the moon is beautiful, isn't it?"

but somehow the both of you decided to act as if it never happened until this day.

back to the present day.

wonwoo literally just said the same thing with the most similar setting ever—he walked you home at night and said the phrase while his eyes were glued to the night sky. you were in a deep daze over what just happened even after the long warm shower. once you sat yourself on the bed, your phone showed a notification.

[Jeon Wonwoo]: I am sure you understood what I was trying to say earlier though I apologize for being a coward about it,

another notification came in.

[Jeon Wonwoo]: But I meant it, I've always been.

relief, that's all you can feel at the moment.

[You]: the moon is beautiful and so bright too here :)

The Life of Elara Ware

This is a Harry Potter fanfic. Main character Elara is an original character by moi and is George Weasleys gf they started dating in 5th year. she's half blood hens the mention of muggle technology before anyone asks. And it's set during the GOF. I've never written anything like this before either so be nice.

Chapter 1

Elara couldn't help the smile that spread across her face. She read the note again, unable to hide her relief at the sight of the familiar untidy scrawl. 'Elara its okay we're good. please dont worry. oh and Mom says you can still come. You'll have to share with Ginny and Hermione though. sorry we're a busy house at the moment. but seriously don't worry. None of us got hurt. A bit shaken up but we're fine. Dads been thrown into it at work though sorting it all. I've never seen him look so tired. and mums been really nice to us since we got back. Gotta say I dont know what's more annoying. The way she keeps fussing like we're about to drop dead any minute. I think I preferred her nagging. it wont last long. All it'd take is one glimpse of a joke wand or ton tongue toffee and she'll be back to her normal screaming self. Speaking of which, you wait till I show you what we've done. Think instant. projectile. vomit! genius huh? Anyway I'll see you really soon. Love your favourite red headed knight in shining armour.'

She rolled her eyes. George was many things but a knight in shining armour was pushing it.

Collapsing back onto her bed Elara felt the tension seeping off her shoulders. Ever since the news had broken the previous day about the attack at the quidditch world cup she'd been going out of her mind with worry. No matter how many times she tried she hadn't heard a thing let alone any news on the Weasleys. Until now. She closed her eyes and pushed away the dreadful images that'd been swirling in her mind. Each scenario more terrible than the last. Its okay. They're okay. You'll see them really soon. With that final reassuring thought she sat up and made her way downstairs.

The house was silent, which was to be expected. Her parents were working so she was home alone again. She didn't mind. After all these years she was used to it. Used to the last minute I've got to gos and sorry I'm going to be home lates. They weren't to blame, such was the nature of their jobs. Elara looked around the spacious hallway. The mid afternoon sun shone through the glass door at the end of the hall and lit up the stairwell. Its beams reflecting off the crystals of the chandelier. Her parents had worked hard to pay for all this and they did it all for her. She knew better than to be ungrateful for a few lonely evenings here and there. She glanced across at the clock. 4:30. She was unsure when to expect her mother but Elara knew her dad wouldn't be home anytime soon. She looked at the letter again still clutched tightly in her hands. It was no surprise Mr Weasley had been called in. From what her father had told her the ministry was trying to get every available person in to figure out who was responsible for the disaster at the world cup. As an experienced member of the department of international magical cooperation; Hamlin Ware had been one of the first called on the scene and he hadn't been home since. This told Elara one thing. The ministry of magic didn't have a clue who was behind it or why they attacked.

4:40. It hadn't occurred to her that she'd been stood on the second to last step for 10 whole minutes lost in thought. "get a grip" she muttered to herself under her breathe as she walked towards the kitchen. She was staring at the cupboards trying to decide if she was hungry enough to start cooking dinner when the phone rang.

"Hey honey. how are you doing?" Her mother sounded exhausted on the end of the line.

"yeah I'm good. I've finally heard from George. He's okay. they're all okay."

"well thank heavens for that!" she said. Elara heard her mothers exhale of relief. "yeah I know. He said I'm still okay to stay there for the last few days of the holidays"

"see? we said he'd be alright didn't we? oh and I really don't want to impose on their family, especially after this, but... oh thank the lord for Molly Weasley. Yes. If shes truly okay with that then great. It'd be a massive help. Look I'm sorry my lovely but Adrian's sons not well again. poor lad. hes had to take extended leave to look after him. I mean, why the mother can't look after her own boy now and again is beyond me but, hey, that's none of my business i suppose. And Veronica's being her usual, I'm too important to do any work, self. Oh you should have seen her earlier. 'oh look at me in my brand new Porsche'. its orange! and not a nice orange like a sunset or something. no, like fake tan gone wrong, that's what it looks like. Uh. Anyway. Breathe Mary-Anne. The point is I'm the only other translator in the office that speaks fluent enough Polish for the conference next week. I'm sorry darling that's 2 weeks in London"

Elara could feel her mothers guilt almost radiating through the speaker.

"it's okay mum. really I understand. i dont mind. I'll go to the Weasleys and they can take me to kings cross itll be fine."

"oh my girl what did I do to deserve you?"

"hmm, not sure. but it must've been good. maybe you saved a village from plague in a past life"

Her mother chuckled. Then she grew silent. After a moment she said

"I'm probably going to be late tonight too"

there was no hiding the hint of sadness in her voice.

"I know" Elara said "it's okay. theres some leftovers hiding in this kitchen somewhere and they've got my name on them."

"Larie"

"Mum. stop. it's fine. look I'm going to have some food. have a shower. then have an early night. honestly you're not missing out on much. I'll see you tomorrow. okay?"

"okay. oh Larie I love you. more than anything in this world.

"love you too mum"

"oh and remember to check the doors locked properly and..."

"and check the security systems running. I know mum I've got it"

"you checked your trunk? you're starting your newts this year. Can't be leaving anything important behind."

"yes I've checked it. I've got everything packed dont worry."

Her mother sighed. "okay. see you later."

"bye"

Elara couldn't help but roll her eyes everytime. but still she compulsively checked the front and back door locks and the flashing screen of the home security system. Online. She knew it would be. But from a young age her mum instilled this pattern. "you must be safe Elara." she'd said. "always be safe" The overprotective persistence of her mother used to annoy her as a child. But now Elara found comfort in the metaphorical safety net her mother cast for her. It let her know that she was loved.

Making her way back to the kitchen she pushed the days worries from her mind. It looked like another evening of peaceful me time she thought. and she was going to see George soon. She smiled to herself. She had missed that cheeky grin.

Seokjin wasn't going to come out of this unscathed. Featuring sickie Namjoon, a smidgen of Jungkook, and Seokjin. Caretaking with Hoseok, Yoongi, and Seokjin. Minor mess warning!

For the prequel, click the link below.

Do as I say, not as I do (2):

A good hyung

Seokjin woke up. Not in his bed; laying down, but sitting in a rolling desk chair with his upper body stretched out face-down on top of Namjoon's comforter. He must have fallen asleep after putting Joonah to bed. 

The leader of BTS was still fast asleep. His mouth hung open, allowing quiet, congested snores to escape. He was also blissfully unaware of his audience of one. 

Remembering why he had been in the room in the first place, the older man reached over to gently place the back of his hand against Namjoon's forehead. The sleeping boy was still a bit warm, but definitely not as bad as he had been last night. The oldest member sighed tiredly and stretched. His back ached from the awkward way he had slept, but as long as Joon was okay, it was worth it. 

Getting up quietly to avoid waking his dongsaeng, the taller man left the room, closing the door behind him. He could hear voices and commotion downstairs, so the others were probably up. He tried in vain to flatten and smooth his flyaway hair as he headed towards the kitchen. 

Hobi was in the kitchen, preparing vegetables and chattering away at Yoongi, who, in his hyung's absence had started breakfast… Or lunch? Was it really 11:30 already? 

The maknae line was in a row on the sofa, looking like living representations of "see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil" and they were oblivious to how cute it looked. Tae was holding the sides of his head, being aegyo. He had just trounced Jimin thoroughly in a video game and the defeated Jimin was covering his eyes in utter disbelief at the upset of his victory. Poor Kookie, looking only half-awake, held a tissue over his nose and mouth with both hands, blowing his much abused nose softly. Seokjin watched them, entertained, as the younger members teased each other and squabbled amongst themselves.

The oldest rapper turned to place the cooking pot into the sink and saw his hyung and what he was looking at. Immediately, Yoongi poked Hoseok and jerked his thumb towards the young vocalists. They shared a smile before turning to Seokjin. 

"Morning Hyung!" Said Hobi brightly.

"Barely…" Yoongi added, "Where's Joonah?"

"Sick…" admitted the older man with a sigh, "I think he caught it from Kookie, but… well, you know Namjoonah never does anything halfway."

Yoongi muttered a curse, 

"Aiisssh, that kid! Seriously…If he would just slow down for a minute…" Hoseok quieted his friend by placing a kindly hand on his arm and giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Is he doing okay? How can we help? 

Seokjin smiled at the dance leader and shook his head, 

"I gotta handle this one, Hobiyah. It's not bad enough for him to go to the hospital, but he had a fever last night and this morning. I stayed with him overnight to make sure he would be alright." The oldest member rubbed his sore neck and looked at the counter in front of him rather than meet the eyes of either of the younger men. 

Hobi sucked in a breath through his teeth, making a disapproving cluck,

"Hyung! I could have stayed with him, or Yoongi,... You realize you are probably going to get it too now right?" 

Min Yoongi put two and two together in his head and swore again,

"Damnit Hyung! You are just as bad as Joonie! You catch everything these punks bring in here!" He pointed at the three youngest on the couch, drawing their attention. He continued,

"How long did you lecture Namjoon on his health yesterday, or today? I know you did! Don't shake your head at me hyung. You should apply some of your "wisdom" to your own life! Any of us, except maybe Jimin, (the exception to this statement objected with a loud "Yaaah!" and was ignored) would have had a better chance of not catching this than you. It's a miracle that you didn't catch it from Jungkookie!" Yoongi glared at the taller man, who glanced up when the rapper paused for breath.

"I know. It was dumb, but I couldn't just stand by and watch. He hid how sick he was until I found him out and demanded that he take today off. I know I'm going to get it, if I don't have it already, Yoongiyah. But Joon wasn't going to rest or tell anyone, because he felt that would be wrong for a leader to do that when we were all working so hard." Seokjin could feel the youngest three members' eyes on him and he turned towards them,

" You three need to stay away from Namjoon's room for at least a few days. This bug is a lot worse than what Kookie had..." Jungkook blew his nose again, and Seokjin corrected himself, "well, has… This isn't personal, it's being sure that we all don't end up getting sick. Okay?" The young trio nodded, and Seokjin continued, "I'll be with Joon until his fever's gone, but after that, if I start feeling even a little bit sick, I will be in my room, so steer clear until I let you know it's okay to go in again." 

He got more nods, and "Yes, Hyung"s from the maknaes. The eldest member turned back to Hoseok and Yoongi, who was still glowering at him.

"I'm going to need a few things: tissues, cough sweets, cold medicine that fix congestion and coughing, and some of the juices from the refrigerator. Food will be harder to figure out… Yoongiyah, Can you take the soup I froze last week out? Joon can eat that for a while. If I only come to the kitchen to heat up the food and we sanitize well, we should be able to reduce the chances that anyone else gets this."

Hobi began collecting the requested items as he spoke, leaving his hyungs to sort out the rest. Min Yoongi put his pointer finger up in a warning gesture,

"Hyung, you are going to tell me when you start to feel even a little off… I will bring food to you and to Joon. We really can't afford to have another member get sick or the recording next week is going to be delayed." Seokjin nodded reluctantly. He hated being fussed over, but the rapper was right. 

"I will." The oldest hyung gathered up the supplies and returned to Namjoon's bedroom. The door creaked a bit as he opened it, announcing his reentry. Namjoon groaned as he turned over and opened his eyes slowly. Putting the care items down on the desk, the older boy went over and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Hey Jooniyah, how are you feeling?" 

The younger man looked up at his hyung blearily,

"Dot good, Hyug. I'b so stuffed ub, I cadt breathe." Seokjin cringed as the younger man coughed harshly into his hands. His body shook with the effort and the struggle to stop the coughs seemed to drain the little energy the rapper had. 

"Let's get some medicine in you, Joonah." The older man helped him sit up against the pillows and measured out the red, gloppy medicine. Handing the tiny cup to Namjoon, Seokjin opened a berry-flavored juice and set it beside the sick man on his nightstand. The leader swallowed the stuff with a grimace and immediately chased it with a big gulp of juice. He licked his lips reflexively and winced. They were so badly chapped that the bottom lip was bleeding slightly. 

"Are the others okay?" asked the not-so-off-duty leader,  as he pulled a tube of lip balm out from under the pile of books on his nightstand and applied it generously.

"Worried about you, but fine otherwise." The older man replied honestly. Namjoon dropped his gaze to his lap and his fingers began toying with the bottle lid. Seokjin sighed,

" They would have found out sooner or later… besides they have to let the managers know that you are not well enough for the photoshoot tomorrow."

That made the leader look up sharply. When he started to protest, Seokjin held up his hand,

"Even if you feel 100% better tomorrow, you might still pass this on to the others. Nobody wants that, Jooniyah." 

The rapline's maknae looked like he still had objections for a moment, but his body had other ideas.

"Hh...Hiih-Hxxgt! Hhxxntch! Hiiphissh! Hektshuh!! Hhh...huhhh…ugh."

As the sneezes ripped their way out of the younger man's nose and throat, he struggled to squash them into his elbow as Seokjin watched helplessly. The oldest member grabbed the tissue box, pulled out a few and handed them to his Dongsaeng. Namjoon hitched for a moment more before groaning in frustration, as the last sneeze eluded him. He took the tissues and blew his nose cautiously, not wanting to trigger another fit. The sound made Seokjin's hair stand on end and he shuddered. It sounded similar to someone popping small bubbles on bubble wrap as the viscous liquid was forced out little by little.

"Poor Joonie… I'm sorry you are feeling so bad." The older man smoothed Namjoon's hair away from his forehead, checking for a fever. The findings gave Seokjin a little comfort. Joon might still be under the weather, but the fever was gone. The vocalist cleared his throat, as he quickly removed his hand, trying to regain his composure and hide his relief. This small action had an unexpected consequence, however. The ailing rapper looked at his hyung with confusion, which quickly evolved into anxious concern, then a guilt-induced panic:

"Hyug, you're dnot… Oh no, did I ged you sig?!? Shit! I'b so stupid! How could I have let you do all those things for be yesterday?!? I shouldn't have let you dnear be! And you were here all last dnight too? I'b so sorry, hyug!" 

Seokjin's utter shock at this sudden reaction, shaped his mouth into a small dumbfounded "o". Recovering himself, he tried to calm the unwell man, who was still berating himself with a thoroughness that showed that this was not the first time that he had thought these insults at himself. 

"Joonah! JOON! STOP! Just stop it now! You are not stupid at all! Never say anything like that again! If I get this cold, so what? I've had colds before. It's my job to look after myself, and if I don't, then the consequences are my fault. Mine. Not yours." Seokjin drew the anxiously trembling man to him, embracing him tightly, " I took my vitamins and got plenty of sleep, so that should give me a fighting chance. Yoongi said it was weird that I hadn't already caught this from Jungkook, maybe I'm building up some resistance." 

The older man felt the other man's congested breathing calm as he held him. Seokjin released the slightly smaller man slowly, guiding him back to lean against the pillows again. 

"You don't have to worry about anything except feeling better, okay?" The vocalist ruffled Namjoon's hair gently. The younger man nodded slowly, then blushed as his stomach grumbled its impatience for food loudly. Seokjin laughed,

"Sounds like you're hungry! I'll check with Yoongi and see if lunch is ready." A few text messages and minutes later, Min Yoongi entered carrying two bowls of chicken and vegetable soup.

"Seokjin-hyung said you weren't feeling well, so your hyungs thought soup would help you get better faster. Hoseokie will come check on you later." Yoongi held out one bowl to the younger rapper and gave the other to Seokjin. The normally taciturn man seemed to struggle for a moment before saying, 

"You worried us, Joonah… Next time you aren't 100%, just tell us. We won't think badly of you for something you can't control." 

Namjoon responded with a sheepish smile,

"I will, Yoongi-hyung… sorry."

Min Yoongi brushed the apology away with a flap of his hand,

"Quit with your sorries and eat before it gets cold." Namjoon obeyed and ate with obvious enjoyment. Seokjin would have been content just to watch the younger man eat. He was happiest when he could cook good food for the other members, but at the moment he had more pressing issues. An alarm bell was going off in his head, signaling him to do something about a tickle that was growing in the back of his nose. He fought for control as his nose twitched and scrunched with irritation. He had only a few seconds to act. He stood abruptly,

 "HH- I'm going to use the-hhh bathroom. I-I'll be back." He left quickly, his breath already hitching. He dashed down the hall, out of earshot and sneezed desperately,

"Heh-hephBrrrsshuh! Ahh-Brreshooo!" The sneezes bent him at the waist, forcing him to try to catch them in his cupped hands. His eyes stung as his sinuses burned and his nose wasn't through with him yet, "Hhh-H'Ressshuh! Ah-GRSShooo! BRESSHUH!" 

Seokjin's hands were covered in a mess of liquid and his face twisted in disgust. He sniffled fruitlessly and turned into the bathroom, leaning his back against the door until it closed behind him. He used his elbows to turn on the faucet and scrubbed his hands until they were bright pink. He sniffled again, trying to prevent the fluid from running over his upper lip. 

The cold had finally caught up with him as Hoseok and Yoongi had said it would. He wasn't congested like Joonie was yet, but Seokjin knew it was only a matter of hours. He was just glad he had been able to leave before Yoongi, or worse, Namjoon had seen or heard that fit. The normally quiet Yoongi would have dragged his hyung by his ear back to the vocalist's bedroom and superglued the taller man to his bed. A small smile played across Seokjin's face at the mental image that accompanied that thought. But that picture was quickly warped until he could only see Joonah's panic-stricken face and hear the younger man verbally beating himself to a pulp over Seokjin getting sick. With a herculean effort, the oldest member pushed the gut-wrenching nightmare image away and splashed water onto his face to help clear his head. He would have to keep this development from Joon. If he didn't, the younger man would just make himself sicker worrying about things that he couldn't fix or change.

The vocalist dried his face and hands before grabbing some tissues and blowing his nose. The man knew how pointless blowing his nose was at this point. It was like kicking at a wave rolling onto the shore: you couldn't stop it, but trying made him feel like he wasn't giving in to the illness yet. He shoved extra tissues into his pocket, just in case.

Steeling himself, he returned to the youngest rapper's bedroom. Yoongi gave him a suspicious look as he entered, but said nothing. Instead the younger man put his pointer finger close to his lips in a pantomime of "Shush". Seokjin relaxed as he saw that their leader was asleep again, his bedspread lovingly tucked in around him and a box of tissues within easy reach. 

Silently the older men collected the bowls, flatware, and empty bottle of juice and left the room like shadows, closing the door behind them. They moved down the hall towards the stairs, when Seokjin felt a tap on his shoulder from behind. When he turned to see what the rapper needed, the older man was instantly subjected to a long, deft finger poking him in the nose. Seokjin stumbled back and gasped as his now sensitized nose objected, and launched him into an itchy flurry of sneezes.

"Wh-what the Hehhhl! H-Heh-Hahrresshoo! HehGrresshhoo!! Hat'shuuh! Ghessshoo! Heh-HAH-HEKT'SHOOO!!! ASH-CHOO!!!"

Unable to cover with full hands, Seokjin sneezed openly, twisting away from the younger man. At the end of the fit, the older man was a sniffling, drippy wreck. He wiped his runny nose on the forearm of his sleeve. Through teary eyes, he saw Yoongi glaring at him, arms crossed; the dishes he'd been carrying on the floor, forgotten.

Defeated, the older man made a face at the younger man before continuing down the stairs with the dishes. He put them into the sink and used a paper towel to clean himself up, as Yoongi caught up with him. The rapper deposited the remaining dishes into the sink and said,

"I could hear you from down the hall."

Seokjin went white as a sheet. Had Namjoon heard too? The shorter man shook his head, in response to the unasked question.

"Joon was too busy to hear… his nose was causing him problems too. He was so tired after that much sneezing that he almost fell asleep sitting up." 

The singer sighed in relief. He nodded and turned to head upstairs to get some rest himself. It would be a long couple of days. Passing Yoongi, he rested one large hand on the smaller man's shoulder.

"Don't tell him… Joonie would just be upset."

"Fine, but you have to promise me, Hyung, that you will text either me or Hobi if you need anything or if you start feeling really bad. Any sign of fever or…anything…" Yoongi didn't meet his hyung's eyes, but Seokjin knew that was just the rapper trying to hide his concern. Six years of friendship had given the oldest member at least that much insight into Min Yoongi's mind. He smiled at the younger man, 

"I promise, Yoongiyah." His tender moment with the younger member was interrupted by another sneeze. This time he was able to fish a tissue from his pocket to catch it. 

"Huh-HUH-HEH-GHSSSHH!" The younger man rolled his eyes at his hyung,

"Yeah-yeah, let's get you back upstairs. I'll check on Joonie once you are settled and I'll have Hoseokie check on you later."

The oldest member snuffled into the tissue and nodded, following the smaller man up the stairs and into his bedroom. Seokjin wasn't really surprised when the rapper turned down the bed coverlet and sheets or when he pulled the shades on the windows to darken the room for sleep. What surprised him was that once he had laid down, Yoongi with practiced hands began to tuck him in, in the same way he had obviously done for Namjoon, not long ago. Seokjin hadn't experienced this in years, it felt strangely comforting. 

"Sleep well, Hyung. I will bring you some medicine in a few minutes." The older man smiled at the rapper, showing a mixture of pride and gratitude, and said just loud enough for Yoongi to hear as he turned to leave,

"You are a good hyung, Yoongiyah."

"You too."

Will You Marry Me? × Antonio Dawson

|DECEMBER 09 • Antonio's POV|

"I've thought about this for a very long time, because I really like, well love this woman that I've been dating for about 2 1/2 years, and I thinks it's time I find a ring for her. One of her friends told me her ring size and now I'm going to each jewelery store to find the right ring. I've looked at a handful of stores, but nothing pops out, so I go on to the next one and hope something catches my eye."

He walks in, and a jeweler welcomes him to the store and asks what brings him in. He tells him he's looking for a ring for his girlfriend and that he going to propose on Christmas but he has to find the right one first.

So the jeweler, whose name is Ghephrey, shows Antonio a few rings that would look nice on her finger, but nothing that stands out to him, so they keep looking.

They look at every single ring they have and Antonio tells the man which ones to hold on to because one of them might be a winner.

As Antonio looks at rings over again, he gets a call, and pulls it from his pocket to see who it was; his girlfriend. So he told the jeweler man to be quiet cause doesn't want her find out, then answers. "Hey baby. What's up?" She smiles. "Oh nothing, just having lunch with Hannah," {Hannah was her cousin, he remembered}, "Oh, how's that's going?" She swallowed a piece of food before she spoke.

"Good. They're talking about having a family soon." He smiles. "Oh that's good. How is she doing?" "She's good, she's in the bathroom, so I thought I'd call you for a few minutes while she's in there." He smiles, "Well that was thoughtful." "Yeah, I tend to think a lot about you." "I'm glad." "Yeah." He hears her take a bite of something she was eating, then swallows. "She just got back from the bathroom, so I'll call you later baby. I love you." He smiles, "I love you too." As they hung up, the thought in the back of his mind says 'she has no idea'.

His thoughts come back in play, as he continues to look for the perfect ring for his perfect girlfriend.

|DECEMBER 09 • Annaleigh POV|

After lunch with Hannah, I leave and go to Mom's for a couple of hours and sit and talk about nothing, but mainly about Antonio. My mom really loves Antonio, says he's the best thing that's happened to me. I agree, and we continue talking.

About another two hours later, I leave and head home. Me and Antonio moved in a few months ago after he asked me to. And I of course said yes. I mean, who wouldn't want to move in with their best friend.

Anyways, I get home and pull of my shoes at the door, and put my keys in the bowl with 'keys' in my handwriting (cause it was neater), and my stuff on the kitchen counter, then lay down on the couch for a little while.

When I wake up (about an hour or so later), I hear the door being quietly shut, and very little quiet movement. I guess he saw me asleep and didn't wanna wake me up. Nice.

It got quiet for a few minutes not knowing what he was doing, but I was too tired to get up and find out.

I lay there a little longer, till I feel two hands carefully pick my head up, sit down, then carefully place my head on a pillow. I smile at that. And without opening my eyes, I say hello. "Hi, baby. It's good to see you." I hear him chuckle, "Yeah, I know. It's good to see you too. How long have you been home for?" I open my eyes to look into his. "Not long, bout an hour or so. Why? What's up?" He smiles. "Oh nothing. Just wanted to spend as much time with you before I have to go back to work tomorrow." "Well, you can do that by grabbing us a beer and a few snacks while I get a movie started. But it's your choice where you want to watch it." He smiles. "See, that right there is why I love you." She smiled. "I love you too." She comes to him with a sweet kiss on the lips.

"Let's watch it in our bedroom. More comfortable." She smiled. "Okay. Just meet me in there with the stuff." He nods his head as she walks upstairs to their shared bedroom and gets the movie(s) setup.

As she makes the bed fluffier and got a movie started, he comes in with four beers and a bunch of snacks (sour patch kids, Sour Skittles, cookies, tortilla chips and dips), and he puts it on the table at the end of their bed.

They each grab a beer and a snack and then get settled for the movie.

××

About two and half, three hours later, the movie ends and she's asleep. He quietly moves away from her warm body to take the stuff down to the kitchen.

After he finishes putting everything away, he looks at his watch for the time; 09:15pm. He goes back into the shared master bedroom and sees she's still asleep, so he grabs a pen and piece of paper and writes her a quick note, and grabs some clothes to get a shower, then head's into the bathroom.

Ten minutes later, she wakes up to an empty room, but to hear the shower running. She looks on either side of the bed on the night stands for a note, and sure enough, on her side was a note, in his cute but little messy handwriting: 'hey baby, I'm in the shower. i'll be out in a little bit. love you.' and at the end of the note, was a heart and a kissy face.

She smiled to herself and thought about something, before she herself grabbed some clothes and headed into the bathroom.

Once she got in there, she stripped herself naked, then whistled. His head perked out from the curtain, "I see you got my note." She smiled and nodded her head. "Yeah, I did. And I wanted to join you. So you can, you know get a good night sleep, since you have to be in early." He laughed to himself and smiled. "You were always the spontaneous one." "Yeah. So can I join you? I'll be sure to give you a wild ride." Without hesitation, he pulled her into the shower with him and they started making out under the water.

He made a trail down her neck and whispered something dirty in her ear, that made her giggle and shiver at the same time. He leaves a bruise on her neck and tells her to jump and wrap her legs around him, and she complies and does as told.

Once she wraps her legs around his torso, he enters her slowly with passion, and they start making love, right there in the shower, against the opposite side of the shower door.

Things started to get hot and heavy as he pounds into her, making her clench around him, screaming and crying his name out with intensity, "Ahh, Antonio!!", "Mmhmm, right there, right there!", and "yesss, just like that, oh my God." were other things that she purposely and spontaneously spit out from her mouth as he pounds into her, harder and faster than before.

It was like that for an hour, back and forth, the dirtiest of things he said in her ear to make her scream more and more to make her clench more and more, that made her cum and have orgasms, faster and harder, that eventually made them both cum at the same time, her cuming and orgasming all over his cock, and his hot salty cum, pouring and spewing all inside of her, making her head fall back, her toes curl, and her back arch up to it's absolute maximum height.

That was the reason she loved him for who he was, because he was good at sex, wherever the placed they deemed good enough so they wouldn't get caught in public.

After they calmed down, their bodies touching each other, and their heart beating rapidly, they went at it again, wanting to feel all that goodness they felt when they hit their high, when he hit her g-spot that made her rapidly scream his name from the top of her lungs, rolling off her lips so smooth and melty like it was butter.

It was more intense, the way he snapped his hips into her vagina, back and forth, the way she screamed for mercy every time he pushed his turso up inside her making her want more, the way he was leaving bruises and hickies everywhere his lips and mouth went, and everytime she pulled his hair at the nape of his neck from the orgasms he made her have each time, making them both succumbing to each other, made it sweet and loving, but yet at the same time, sexy and hot and passionate between the both of them.

He came inside her once more, before kissing the top of her head, then kissing her lips sweetly.

She slowly got off him, and they both stood under the shower head to feel the warmth of the water running down their heated bodies, from the amazing sex session they just had.

They let their bodies cool down before helping each other wash and rinse their bodies then one by one getting out and drying off, then clothing themselves.

After they had finished all of that, it was close to 11 o'clock at night, and they decided to head to bed.

××

|Annaleigh's POV|

A couple weeks had passed, the sex sessions between Antonio and me, getting better and better with each passing time.

It was now 11:43pm on Christmas Eve, and she still had no idea what was going to happen at midnight, which was less than 20 minutes away.

All of Antonio's and Anna's friends and family had shown up, each one bringing something when they came and showed up at the front door.

It was a tradition, getting together a few hours before Christmas, to celebrate friends and family coming together. I guess that's why he wanted a big house, so he could have big tables to fit in the big house (4 bed, 4 baths, very high ceilings). The celebration started off with a toast, to Antonio and I, letting everyone come over to our home this time, instead of us and others going separately to his friends and families houses, and the same to me.

After the toast, they got started by saying grace, then go down the food line, one by one everyone pilling their plates with food.

After everyone ate, they passed presents around each person the present was for.

His parents gave me, I mean us, some more stuff for the kitchen, and some things for the bedrooms and bathrooms. A few of his friends gave him a few boxes of condoms. Nobody knew though, just me and him and the friend(s) that gave them to him.

His sister gave us something for us to enjoy when were alone, and also his and hers cups and placemats for the bathroom.

And hour before midnight, half of the party left (his parents and sister, my parents and brothers), and it was just our friends. His daughter and son wanted to stay at a friend's house, so he let them, so it can just be us adults tonight.

We chatted and talked among ourselves, about different things, the men obviously talking about sex, and the women talking about God knows what, until I hear Antonio from across the room, wanting everyone's attention, and asking for me to come stand beside him. I walk up to him and give him a hug, and he returns the hug, but with also a kiss on my lips.

"I want to thank everyone for coming tonight to celebrate Christmas with us, and to be able to make it at such a late time in the day," he looks down at his watch, "and I want to say thank you to Anna, for being my rock, for being there for me when I was down, and I think a lot about you, and um, I wanted to ask you a question," he grabs something from under the tree that's behind us, and unwrap it to reveal a small black velvet box, and my mind goes ballistic and wild, knowing what he's about to do. "I felt that it would be good to do this in front of our friends," he stands in front of me and drops down to one knee and asks, "Annaleigh Browers, will you marry me and be my wife, forever??" I smile so hard, I can barely contain myself, and blurt out, "yes! Yes yes yes, a million times yes!! Oh my God." My hands starts shaking, as he takes the ring out from the box, and slips it onto my left ring finger. He jumps up and hugs me and spins me around as everyone around claps and wolf whistles. {ring}

We celebrated and talked more, until we all went to bed, Antonio letting them stay the night, since it was past 1 o'clock in the morning.

When Antonio and I went to bed, we celebrated our engagement, the only way we knew how; sex all night long. And I'm pretty sure our friends heards us and started laughing their asses off.

He made me orgasm so many times, I clenched around him, all of my body felt the intensity of my orgasms, and his body also felt the intensity of his orgasms too, we came undone together, feeling everything ten times better than a few weeks ago. He really is putting the meaning to 'great in bed' to a whole new level. 👅

And I guess it looks like I have to get ready for a wedding soon. And maybe, just maybe, a family too. 🙏😄👰🤵⛪👩‍❤️‍👨🥂🍾💍🍼👶🤰

I'm going to post this because maybe someone will hear this over words unspoken, my name is Billy Strange and I still wake up each morning picking up the next piece, I've almost taken my life more then I can count on both hands, from a high school sweet heart marriage of 9 years turned bloody and a custody battle that went from healthy to sadistic over a span of 3 years and 20k, and it was the words from a man I barely knew for no more then 6 months, that has saved me

I see and talk to so many fathers who tell me their story and I so badly want to tell them just to listen to what I'm telling you, I can get you out of this if you just let me a stranger walk with you through it... It never works out that easy but I don't give up and I hope you all read these words and share them to those who may hear it better from the words written by their brother in arms.. any way

I look back for those 2 years I was there and remember pushing anyone close to me as far away as possible so that they didn't have to feel the initial pain or try to stop me, all because I felt like I let them all down...

The only people I kept around me were strangers because I wanted to know if they seen me as a failure not even knowing me.... It was because of that, and them being completely honest about why it was only me that maybe it wasn't meant to be,

(A Satanist told me this and I'll never forget it, it was his words that allowed me to get this far) he is not one for recognition so I won't label him.

"did you ever think that your trying so hard to hold up a world that has fallen all around you...

Maybe you are on the right path and you are only focusing on the things that have already broken, and don't realize that all you have to do is look down at each piece, see it and learn why it was so important to you and then glue it to that small piece you are still holding above you, then go to the next and keep going until each piece has shown you just how strong it actually made you to make it to someone who seen your strength, and can see you just forgot what gave you that strength.

It will hurt, it will make you hate the way you handled certain things, it will cause you to try to give up,

but because you made it a task to see each piece, and put it all back up, you will never allow yourself to give up, or find a rope, until you complete your task, because thats the person you are...

But you have to understand that it may have taken you 5 years to build that first world you now see broken below you, it will take far longer to rebuild it stronger, because you will also rebuild yourself with each piece, and you have to remember to let each piece's glue dry before placing the other or else you will watch it become to stressful and not understand why you think you are doing the right thing but it keeps falling....

Learn each piece then let it hurt, while you hold it in place to dry, let it consume your mind and play it over and over like a movie each piece until it dries, then heal, smile before you look back down for that next piece, and don't ever be scared to place even those bad things you did when not everyone was watching back into your rebuild, because without each piece it will be to weak and fall apart down the road when everything seemed good.

Basically you have to accept that you are on a dark road but to learn to see in the dark it will allow you to navigate later in life when you see a person on that same road and they ask for help.. Don't ever forget how you felt because they may have absolutely no one and will you want to be the one who pretends like you didn't see it. Anyway that being said stop mopping and let's go handle business "

The next section is a completely separate chapter from above but I feel maybe can help...

I want to add to this 4 years from that being told to me and experiencing it in real life, that sometimes you will still find yourself in a sort of limbo period I've managed to pin mine down to about every 8 months, if for some reason I didn't accomplish a goal I set prior and it feels like no matter what I do or try I can't for some reason figure it out, those are the moments you need to find a person you trust your life with because those will be the moments you will try anything to get you out of that mentality because we want to feel that we are moving forward no matter the speed, but to feel stuck and not being able to see a way out or that lost piece that you know is there it's just probably hidden under some of your other pieces..we feel like Maybe just for a moment let whatever is causing you to panic, whether it's rent, a car that is broke and no money and work tomorrow, or you've been jobless for 3 months now and even with all the resumes submitted nothing is available and winter is a cold time to be homeless with no job, or maybe you still haven't got a place to stay so that you can have your children stay with you finally, whatever it is the worst thing that can happen is what you silently keep fighting to not take over,

I just want this fight to stop for one night, I just want all this stress to burry itself tonight so I can try to breathe... What that really means is I'm going to go back to those bad habits I had because it always quieted those fights in my head and if I can just do that I will have a clear mind to find a solution..

I will tell you from experience that once you reach that moment nothing but a person of trust will stop you from taking that hit, or drinking those shots, calling that sexual excitement, spending the money you don't have on the gambling machines, going out on the town with the sole purpose of getting wasted, because we truly believe that we are better prepared to control our vices, we will stop at our limit, what we never realize is that we allowed those vices to retake control by thinking you needed it to breathe.

What will ultimately usually happen is a night of uncontrolled guilt, constant war inside yourself, conscious tears filling up your emotional warhead..

all night this rage of self doubt quietly destroying your confidence, causing you to go right on past that limit of 2 shots, or just one line, or I'll only put 20 bucks in the slots, or I will just flirt I won't allow it to go past that,

because that fight is still loud and now more painful, because you know deep down that you allowed yourself to fall and laying there helpless...I cringe even writing these next words because it's so easy to reach this point of thinking that;

"obviously we were just meant to fail"

"why not right, "

"who really cares if I fail there's, no one here to stop me right..."

"So why should I have to carry this pain all the damn time, why is it so fucking easy for everyone else..."

And that's it...

(Those of you who are reading this and may be in this exact moment please, look at that image that you always hold in your mind of your child's eyes, look at that past moment when you and your daughter would lay under the stars with her head on your shoulder watching the magical pink elephant jump through a black sky as she explains how much she loves you and talks about anything and everything that her imagination creates under that massive sky where imagination always comes to life.... Feel her heart as she paints her masterpiece and ask you to help with the flowers over there by the big dipper so the elephant has something to give her mom,

please don't let your moment die because you have no more left, and no one in your face to help you, please call me I don't know you but I will before we hang up and I won't let you fail the only mission that will keep your children's smile alive for another year because you didn't let yourself fall.)

Cont. - don't Wake up the next day or still awake 12 hours later after all those "friends" left you to sit with your own guilt... Oh yeah, that guilt is now yelling loudly inside your entire soul, as it launches that emotional warhead of tears, oh yeah those evil people why did they let me do this....

Why did they... Urrrghhhhh why did I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I,... DO this I can't believe I went back to what destroyed me and actually talked myself into believing this was going to help me....

It's in those tears and self reflection comes a choice that is now forced on you, oh hold that thought your friend from last night is calling, and they want to know if you want to continue this "unhealthy" adventure..

You either respond with a yes and have accepted that you have lost your control, and most times it will set you back 3-6 months or until your money runs out or those "friends" hurt you. And then you realize that all you did was take on more hurt and more pain and that's a scenario that will most likely continue to lead to occasional loss of all reality until you find that piece of your life that you keep looking over and afraid to pick up, and will cause your life to end up in constant downfalls until addressed.

Or you will have addressed that guilt and conquer a small war by not answering, because you are very In tune with accepting responsibility and able to understand that you could have destroyed your life, someone else's life, and now you know that you still are not able to control those periods of limbo when nothing is working. So accept responsibility for any loses you may have encountered, like a drug test at work, or a piece of your dignity, or people you thought were friends...

The first step from that is to immediately have the talk with that person you know will hold you accountable during those periods, 9 out of 10 times that person is who you looked up to as a child whether it's your mom, dad, grandparent, or sibling, for me it was my grandmother.. The moment you can go to them honestly no matter what it was that you did the night before, you have to let them know what that is, you have to be able to openly label the thing that will destroy you, and let them know how important they are to your strength, those tears from that conversation will build a mountain of motivation inside of you... Usually sparking that jolt to get you over that limbo...

Some people can afford to pay those people to help them, for the rest of us we have each other so that's my little piece of advice I hope it helps someone

Rio & Buster

Rio: Didn't say you had a girlfriend Rio: but you can tell her she's hitting me up with the back off too late and under fucked up misunderstanding, like 😂 Buster: Didn't say it 'cause I don't Buster: If some girl wishes that's her problem Buster: And yours now like 😂 Rio: It ain't funny, blowing up my phone making me look suspect, like Rio: anyway, Nance gave me the lowdown already so I know she's a cunt so I don't have to hold back Buster: Who's laughing? Buster: Send her my way if she's that desperate Buster: The lads are boring like Rio: Seriously? Rio: No I will Rio: if you're gonna do your own like that you can sort it yourself, not her pimp Rio: not* Buster: Whatever Rio: It so isn't but that's on you Rio: Are you lot out tonight then? Buster: Course Buster: You think I'm waiting at home for you, babe? Rio: Har dee har Rio: sounds like you had a cosy night in in mind tbf Rio: where you going then, wanna meet up? Buster: Not got the light or kettle on like Buster: Sick of the lad already? Rio: Yeah, what you had in mind Rio: Nah, but 2 ain't a party Rio: and I'm going home tomorrow so Buster: Wanna see if he can hang Buster: Fair Buster: I'll bring the party to you then, babe Rio: Pretty much Rio: You're feeling chipper today Buster: I'll insult you when I get there if you really want Rio: Not my kink Rio: would get us back to the status quo though Buster: Just buzzing 'cause you're off home and outta my way like Buster: Can't blame me Rio: I bet Buster: Not looking forward to kicking it in your own ends any more or what? Buster: I know you'll miss me but come on Rio: Nah but it ain't gonna be all fun and games when I get back is it Rio: Shit to sort Rio: but gotta be done Rio: and you wish Rio: I got reason to come back and annoy you some more now Buster: You're not gonna get grounded Buster: Don't worry about it Buster: And I know, kid Buster: Always making it obvious, Cavante Rio: Don't be daft Rio: I've gotta look out for Nance Rio: avoid another ex Rio: all that drama Rio: You're OBVIOUSLY deranged, McKenna Buster: You're used to all that shit many times over Buster: You got this, ma Rio: Shut up! 😂 Rio: Doesn't mean I don't get tired of it Buster: It ain't my fault you've had more exes than I've had fam dinners Buster: Not even starting on family bullshit of yours Buster: Well I'll sort you a decent line when I get there, put a pep back in your step, yeah? Rio: Yeah it is Rio: No show, you are Rio: and bet you've had more, just 'cos you ain't claiming 'em Rio: Go for it Buster: Fuck off I'm being nice here Buster: Trying to give you a proper going away and you're trying to fight me Rio: 🤷 Rio: Soz Rio: Only way I know how, clearly, all those exes, like Buster: What's wrong, babe? I know you ain't gonna miss me that bad so what is it? Rio: You shouldn't fuck Chloe Rio: Idk, you shouldn't have put that in my head Buster: I haven't Buster: She's not my type. I know what you reckon but I do have some standards Rio: Alright, good Rio: Too many lines already, I'm paranoid Rio: she's bad news Buster: Come get some fresh air with me then Buster: Plenty of people say that about me, like. Not that I'm trying to make a connection to her. Fuck that Rio: Might help Rio: Thought you were with your boys though Rio: Yeah but, at least you're upfront about what you are, good or bad Rio: 🐍 Buster: They'll be fine if I don't hold their hands through every song, babe Buster: She's really got to you, yeah? Rio: I'm just being dramatic, too many strangers here Rio: but she did a number on Nancy, that I know for facts, stand by the bad vibes even if I could relax on it rn Buster: Where are you, specifics. I'm come and get you if you ain't coming out Buster: Find those cunts later Rio: Idk, ages away from yours Rio: we're meant to be but the pre-party still going strong Rio: I'll meet you somewhere? Buster: Keep your phone on, I'll be that stalker and work out where you are Buster: Meet you near Rio: Not just a pretty face, ladies and gents Rio: It's alright, just pick a club, no need to ruin the night Buster: At least you're finally admitting how hot I am Rio: 🙄 Really needing the ego boost, yeah? Sure 👌😂 Buster: Find you in The Grand, yeah? Rio: Got it Buster: Half an hour max Rio: Cool, I'm nearer than you so I'll see you in there Rio: *He'd obviously been offended she wanted to leave the party and get a headstart on him on the town, but it was way too soon to show it (thank fuck) and still save face, so she got out without much pouting and whining. Only needed to take one bus, turns out she was about five minutes down the road from Clapham, tops; good to know. Maybe that was why she was feeling so out of it? Not knowing where she was, and who with? Been in that scenario before though and she'd not got this rattled so- blatant bullshit. Rio didn't plan on admitting it to him, but it had way more to do with Buster McKenna than was healthy. Head fuck.  This is why they avoided each other, and had for a while now. It weren't no good trying to just be nice to each other, always went too far. And arguing and being cunts didn't exactly cool the energy between 'em either. No, ignoring each other's existence was key. And yet here she was, going out to party with him. Well fucking done, girl. She rolled her eyes at herself, jogging up and down on the spot impatiently, near enough to the front of the club's queue now she needed to remember to look her hottest so they'd let her in faster. And result. She was in, no coat to put up, so she was away. Barstool, 'round of vodka shots, sorted. Toes tapping, faster than the beat of this shit tune. It was pretty early still, the club only now filling up. Shouldn't have an issue finding her. Not that it was a good idea but finish what they'd started now, like.* Buster: *The lads had been chilling at his since the afternoon doing fuck all of much but getting on his nerves, and when Barnaby suggested getting the drinks in and making something of the night he wasn't even the most relieved of the lot of them, like, so face saved there. Nice one, lad. It was the first decent favor any of them had done him in Christ knows how long, not that he was letting it show. Not a fucking amateur at that either, cheers. There was a girl he'd swiped that was why he was keen to be off. No other reason that they'd had to be privy to. James had been chatting about his cousin since he got with her and Buster wasn't trying to add to that conversation. They didn't know what they were fucking saying anyway. Silly pricks. Let them wonder and speculate over his antics tonight with the Tinder blonde, or any other, they loved it. He had his own mind full of bullshit that he personally didn't love. Worry was a new emotion regarding Rio, one that he didn't feel confident over dealing with, and a lack of confidence was even newer territory than giving a shit about Cavante's emotions. Or so he told himself before he racked up the lines to turn all that off for a while. Worked out proper well for him that had, here he was off and running to cheer her up or what the fuck ever. What was his fucking goal meant to be? Soft cunt. Gonna send her goodnight texts later or what, like? Stupid. Get real all he was gonna do was buy her some watered down drinks for as long as she let him. Big fucking deal and no great help. Still, as soon as he was in he took the stool next to her and did exactly that, ordering more of what she already had.* Rio: *And just like that, he was there by her side. As if this was all standard and they did it all the time. This week maybe but neither of them should get too fucking cosy with the idea, like. She took her share of the drinks without protest, even though she had nothing but empties to offer by the time he arrived. * Next round, like. *She shrugged, spinning the nearest shot glass aimlessly, avoiding eye contact She then spun herself to face the dance floor, like she was surveying the talent from her perch on high. This was fucking ridiculous. He'd be saying as much if she didn't act fast. Jumping up, the tunes still not there but she'd have to make do. As she weaved her way through the crowds, she took a second to break the rules and make eye contact, looking back at him and motioning with a question of 'are you coming?' hanging in the air.* Buster: *He wasn't listening to her 'cause that's how focused he had to be on not staring at her. She looked so fucking good. He'd said as much the other day, believing it when he did, but this was different. He felt it bones deep and more crucially, didn't know how not to show he was being affected. Fuck's sake. No more coke for him until he got his shit together like. Sort your head out, you twat. He shook it, playing as if he was shrugging off her offer to pay 'cause it was better she reckoned he was trying to buy her off again than- What? For the second time tonight he was already asking himself what the fuck he was trying to achieve. Shit. At least before he could chat any more nonsense to himself, or her, Rio was up and away. Not far enough given how easy dancing made it to be close, like, but a reprieve he could count in seconds. Breaths to take. Buster should've known in the next minute she'd steal it all off him with a look. Course. It was an old game. And he'd never once played by the rules, had he? It was too late to start now. He wasn't no choir boy and she was leaving in the morning she'd said. Fuck it. Not a fucking amateur, remember? He'd call her bluff and cheer her up before this shit tune was done. It was just dancing, who the hell was he if he couldn't handle that, yeah? Rio: *Again, screaming internally, asking what the fuck she thought she was doing and why the hell she was doint it; All the while making no effort to slow down, never mind stop. So glad he couldn't read her as well as he claimed, the fucking laugh he'd have about how much she was silently protesting (much too much for it to be anything but mortifying; and very bloody telling). Still, she knew the feeling of eyes lingering on her body well enough by now to know that's what was happening, what he was doing, despite himself. Despite herself, and what a good, sensible girl should do, she smirked, smug satisfaction at taking the lead in both senses. Fuck it, she could say it was the coke making her act up. If he was feeling brave enough in his own good behaviour to question it after. Not likely. So why not? She wanted this right now, so she was going for it. Whatever 'it' was. Stop thinking. Let your body takeover completely. With that in mind, or out of it, she began to move, getting closer to him than was necessary, routine full of 'almost' contact, designed to tease.* Buster: *The song was still shit but he wasn't listening to it either now. Couldn't hear anything but the sound of two heartbeats, his thumping enough to be shaming if he gave a fuck about anything other than getting closer than she already was to him, and hers once he was, echoing such a similar beat. There was smugness in having her rhythm there alongside the intrusion of his, literally hammering away at her pretense of utter control too. Loud and clear for him, drowning out everything that had been said before. Bullshit. Necessary but still ridiculous to look back on from where they were now. Nice try, Cavante, 'cause guess what, I know you are, babe. He wore a smirk to match hers, letting his 'routine' in turn spell out that the teasing shit had gone on long enough, while the hand which had settled on her waist as he moved pulled her body into his. He'd snorted his fair share of lines if he needed something to blame it on other than just being fucking over it and wanting to play a new game and it was unlikely she was gonna challenge him at this point. Hardly blameless herself, yeah? Whatever.* Rio: *She looks down at where his hand has ended up, eyes traveling back up to meet his, slowly, appreciating his body as she did so, letting him know she knew it was anything but a happy accident, but that she wasn't going to say anything either way. Hardly could now, could she? A silent deal being made on the floor tonight. 'This stays between us.' It didn't mean anything, like. Just sexual attraction, however fucked. She wouldn't hold it against his character if he didn't against hers. What happened in the club, like. Such a fucking cliche, Christ; but she felt like being one just this once if it felt this good. She had her back towards him now, winding up and down, hips clashing, making her ache. Before Rio could stop herself (a reoccurring theme of her time with him, it seemed), she had placed her hands over his, still on her waist, and was moving them down, to where she wanted them right now. Fuck. He was definitely going to pull away now, probably have some choice words for how sick and creepy and wrong she was and she didn't have a leg to stand on, no case to fight. Before he could, thinking fast (hopefully faster than he could), she pulls gently on his neck, so she can reach his ear to shout into it, shit tunes always being played too loud.* You promised me a line. Buster: *He shouldn't be this turned on by a few dance moves and unwavering eye contact but he is and there was no way she couldn't know, bodies pressed against each other as tightly as they were. Fucking hell. Yeah, he could lie to himself that it was the fault of the rich, white girls he usually approached not knowing how to dance without doing shit imitations of their current favorite pop icon or being too eager to check him out (sizing him up the same as he did them) to hold his gaze, but that's all it'd be, more bullshit when he'd already said no more.  It was too fucking obvious what this was about and what he wanted. And every movement of hers was as telling. None more so than when she stopped herself, 'cause it was forced in a way that none of their other actions had been, thought out instead of fluid. Of course, immediately after came a brief moment when he reckoned she was gonna nibble on his earlobe or something. No going back then, like, but he should've realised the headfuck was gonna come from a more familiar (as far as Rio Cavante was concerned) direction. Christ. When was the last time another girl had left him wanting more, this much and this soon? Buster couldn't remember. Couldn't think.  State of him.  At least her pulling away to speak let him breathe. He smirked again, faking regaining more composure than he had around her as standard, never mind on a night like this. Nodding his head in the direction of the toilets briefly, he leaned in to reply. * Come on, let's get you sorted. Rio: *She took him by the hand, pulling him through the crowd with an impatience they could both pretend was about coke. Yeah, right. Neither of 'em was fooled or in the mood for fooling now. Her mind had been fully made up for her when his reaction of outrage, disgust, and horror hadn't come; but the opposite had, the hardness she felt tight against her mirroring the ache she felt, less obvious outwardly but, was it though? He knew. She knew he knew so time to do something about it, boy! Now or never, like. Door swinging behind 'em, pulling him into the first free cubicle, reaching behind his frame to lock up, purposely trailing her hand against his exposed forearm, outstretched fingers softly trailing along the veins there, taut between ample muscle and goosebumped skin. Fucking hell. It wasn't her fault he was so god damn attractive. Regret it in the morning. She'd be long gone by then. Breaking eye contact away from where it had fallen below the belt (oops), she grinned, green meeting blue, breathing as laboured as heart.* Go on then... Buster: *The last thing he should have done was followed her into a space where every time his body shifted (however fucking subtly. Or not) it brushed somehow against hers, bringing them back to teasing each other, 'cause unless he pushed her fully against the cubicle wall there was no way to create the blatant friction they both craved, and he wasn't about to do that. Not yet. If she wanted coke, she was gonna have it. Simple as. Just as well that act was though, distracted as he'd become, like. If Buster let himself look back on any of tonight (not wise but nevertheless still likely) he'd pat himself on the back for once again not being a fucking amateur, fine chopping the lines on his coffee table before he came out so all that was left was to unwrap that shit, lay hers out and roll up a note. He'd been on autopilot getting the drugs from his pocket, breathing ragged as hers, the feeling of her stare (and where it was purposefully aimed) leaving him incapable of coherent thought about anything else. Fuck. He wanted her so bad. His own eyes fixed on the locked door, checking and rechecking, focused solely on trying to do that until the memory of her touching his arm resurfaced and then all he could think of was the idea that formed. He smirked for...what a third time? ... Christ knows, before laying her coke out on another, higher patch of exposed skin, eyebrow raised, wordlessly asking Rio how badly she wanted her share now.* Rio: *And there it was. Another silent challenge, a dare. No need for fucking words creating any unwanted space between them, made her wonder why they'd ever bothered when this was so, SO much better. No comparison. Of course, the answer was they bothered so they didn't end up here but she wasn't listening to sense tonight, fuck off. Right now, she WANTED to be here, nowhere else she'd rather, frankly. Fret over it later, like. Or not. It felt TOO damn right to call it wrong. So she wouldn't. And he wouldn't. And no one else need ever know. She wants to hesitate, knows she should. Eyebrows raising to make some display of being all 'really?', like she's so scandalized or not into it, only doing it 'cos she couldn't refuse a dare, could she? But Rio Cavante didn't even flinch, crashing into him full force, pushing him against the door, arms wrapped around his neck to steady herself, steady them both. This close, the heat of him unbearably sexy, his body was so toned and fucking perfect, Christ! She felt dizzy with it, sweat was slicking the white powder to his naked skin, collar bone a natural shelf to hold it. The temptation to lick it off him like salt for a tequila shot was almost too much but she didn't want to be accused of wasting the coke, so she pressed her nose into him, snorting it with ease, shuddering more from the sensation of being this close than anything else, tipping her head back in pleasure, hoping he didn't hear the small moan than found its way out.* Fuck! *Snapping her head back, rubbing her nose with a sniff, damn. Okay. She obviously had to one-up him. What else was a girl to do, yeah? She moved away, to the bag still laid out on the top of the loo, grabbing it 'fore he had a chance to stop her or do anything else to drive her crazy. Shit, she had to take back some control, like! She smirked back at him, the solution to her problem of how to best Buster McKenna becoming obvious as she looked down. Racking it up on her ample cleavage, as if to say, triple dog dare you, McKenna* Buster: *There was half a second as his shoulder blades hit the door, rattling the hinges with the force of their bodies colliding again, closer than they'd been yet somehow but still, at the same time - impossibly- not enough, that he wanted to tell her 'fuck the coke' or something like it. Swore he could almost feel the words tumbling out, begging practically for her to just fucking kiss him instead. But he didn't. Or make a move to himself either. As soon as he heard her moan he knew why, even though they'd waited years and his entire body was insisting that he couldn't any more, refusing in the form of his own shudders as he stood there, knees weak from barely any contact. Fuck's sake. There was so much promise in that sound that Buster grinned, holding her gaze with baited breath until she gave his eyes no choice but to travel with her, settling exactly where she planned for them to. * Oh fuck. *If she said anything about him stealing the words out of her mouth later (not that they could chat about any of this casually) he'd deny it, not realising an echo had escaped from him as he launched himself towards her, lifting her slightly so she rose to meet his bowed head easily. Finally Rio's back landed hard (thankfully against wood same as his had rather than cold, dirty porcelain) with force enough that she'd feel it tomorrow. He wanted that more than anything, even as his line disappeared, snorted all too soon. Fuck her trying to pretend she didn't remember, if her mind pulled that shit her body would call her a liar. He'd made sure of that, like. There was always more he could do though, and he didn't hesitate to put his mouth on the skin she'd already offered him, kisses desperately hard and bruising as his hands trailed lightly down her body, skimming each curve more brazenly than he'd ever looked her up and down before. Christ that seemed like a lifetime ago, her beckoning him onto the dance floor. Not that it mattered. Too much had happened to go back now and there was well more than he needed to happen still.* Rio: *Her cries, a mixture of pleasure and pain as she was unceremoniously slammed into the wall, caught in her throat. Like she couldn't express how much she wanted this, NEEDED this. And she couldn't. No moaning or dirty talk was going to cut it but she could but try. Knowing he knew regardless, and that he felt it too, only amped it up further.* You want me so bad, huh?* Stating the obvious for her own satisfaction, no question mark needed. Muffled curses at him; warning him if he dared stop, to do more, worse, faster, harder, NOW; acting as their version of pillow talk. Pulling his hair, novelty of being above him in the literal. Rio found purchase, sitting atop the toilet, kicking the seat down so he could kneel as she spread her legs for him, pushing his head down, showing him where she needed him.* Please, Buster, please... *She didn't care that this was a club bathroom, that people could definitely hear them, that they'd be hearing a lot more soon if she had anything to do with it. That he was her fucking cousin. Fuck. She just did not care about anything but having him touch her, fuck her. But before he could, there was a monstrous bang on the door that rattled the hinges harder than they had only a few minutes previous.* Shit! Legs clamping shut, jumping down from the seat, pocketing the drugs in her bra without hesitation, she clambered over him, pushing him back, so he was sat down.* I got this, yeah? Worry about yourself. Catch you later... *Rio murmured, squeezing his hand in the hope he'd fucking listen to her, not trusting a coked out McKenna to deal with what was clearly a bouncer and not just a punter desperate for a piss, like. She squeezed out of the smallest possible gap in the door, shutting it behind her, so Buster wasn't spotted.* Buster: *Fuck me. *Holy shit, every word out of her mouth was fucking him up but it was the begging that REALLY sent him over and made him use a phrase that was ridiculously literal. He couldn't help it, knowing that she wanted him bad enough to say that shit out loud what he hadn't when the coke first came out, made more than his knees go weak. He was about to insist that she told him what she wanted again, just to hear it, biting his lip to prevent a moan from coming out before the sentence did when something makes everything stop. It turned his wants back to fantasy, yet again becoming a scenario that wouldn't happen. 'Cause he isn't stupid. As much as many other parts of him were desperate to ignore the pounding on the door, his head, coked out as it is, still knows that they can't. The hired muscle out there wouldn't let them. Shit. It was somehow the unrealest part of this, fucked up as that sounded even to no other ears but his own, that this was how the night was going to end, not how he'd finally let himself want it to. They'd both given in, fully, and there was no pretending at this point (whatever he might convince himself of later, dismissing the night as a weird headfuck etc etc) the drugs were why he wanted her so badly. And worse, all they were now were the reason why he couldn't have her. Fuck's sake. Buster hadn't felt a surge of anger overwhelm him this utterly -suddenly too- since his sister left. Wherever he looked was flooded red, and for Rio's frantic movement, the only thing he managed to do was bite his tongue and clench his fists. Until she'd gone and then he stood up, immediately pacing (an agitated cokehead cliche) the cubicle transformed into a cage he didn't dare leave in this state. Just as well 'cause the next second had him striking out, kicking out hard at the space where their bodies had been, with as much power as he felt had been robbed from him. The wood protested one last time, drowning every sound in his head out with the crash, thank fuck. The cubicle didn't fall to pieces, of fucking course, 'cause it was another thing he needed to happen and he sank back onto the toilet seat, taking shallow breaths.*