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2seokfan · 4 years

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Scarlet & Hazel | Ch. 3

pairings: hoseok x reader x yoongi

genre: fluff, very light angst, smut (future)

word count: 6k

chapters: ch.1, ch.2, ch.3. ch.4

summary:

Just cause you’re living paycheck to paycheck in a tiny apartment even after graduating college doesn’t mean you’re not happy. So what if your best friend is working her dream job making close to six figures every year? So what if she’s in a loving, committed relationship with her perfect boyfriend that you’re 99% sure is going to propose to her sometime next year? It doesn’t matter that your idea of a perfect relationship is a $9.99 bottle of wine on Friday nights while you binge watch Netflix specials.

Ok so maybe you’re a teensy bit miserable. Maybe you have no idea what you’re doing with your life. Maybe all you need to do is accidentally cross paths with two hybrids who will drastically change that.

Meet “Scarlet” and “Hazel”, two of the most gorgeous hybrid men you have ever laid eyes on. With their help, you learn that life is an adventure, a roller-coaster with ups and downs, and you were too preoccupied with yourself to climb out of your own predicament. And hey, you’re not much of a romantic, but with these two, you just might change your mind.

a/n: Hello, Jun here! Whew this took a while to write but thank you for your patience!! (poor Y/N still doesn’t know their real names but maybe she’ll find out soon?) Any feedback is appreciated <3

tag list: @wilhelminalucinda @ghostkat23 @ayoo-bangtan @sadgurllayha

2 months later.

August is relentless. You’re sweaty all the time and you have no choice but the crank up the a/c every single day. This heat wave is incredibly brutal because all you want to do is stay at home eating ice cream in your underwear but instead you’re stuck working overtime to pay for what you assume will be a record-high electricity bill. Fuck you global warming.

It’s currently Tuesday. You’re on lunch break at work, chowing down on a falafel wrap and scrolling through your phone, when a text pops up from Karli.

Karli: Don’t forget!

You: ???

Karli: This friday?

You scratch your head. Wtf?

You: What’s on friday?

Karli: Umm the date? Remember?

No you didn’t. Your dumbass actually forgot about a whole date. You can’t believe yourself. Karli finally set you up with that accountant guy from her job. What’s his name again? Brad? Brandon?

You: oh yeah! my bad haha

Karli: You forgot his name didn’t you?

You: …maybe

Karli: Lol it’s Bryce sweetie

Karli: He’s really sweet! Just give it a shot

You: of course i will

You: i’ll turn up my maximum charm

Karli: Dats my girlllll

Karli: Ugh gtg it’s my boss

Karli: Bye!

You: bye babe

You set your phone down, trying to envision this upcoming Friday. Karli mentioned she gave Bryce your phone number, and he’ll text you sometime this week about your date, so at least you don’t have to make any moves first. She did show you his picture though, being the wingman that she is by stalking all his social media just for you. You’ve gotta admit he is cute, the profile picture showed him sporting a casual smile, with blonde hair and blue eyes. The classic boy-next-door look.

“And he’s most likely not a serial killer!” You remember her declaring a few weeks ago, after scrolling through all his tweets. And when you say all his tweets you mean EVERY Single tweet from when he created his account in high school till now. Your best friend does not fuck around.

“Thanks I appreciate that. Glad he’ll ‘most likely’ not kill me.” You rolled your eyes and grinned at her.

While you munch away the rest of your lunch, you think about how you just aren’t acting like yourself lately. In any other circumstance, you would’ve found yourself more excited for the date. Hell, in any other circumstance you would’ve at LEAst remembered his name, or thought about what to wear by now, or even stalked his social media along with Karli. There’s just a teensy problem though. See, in the past few months you happen to have met two boys who completely changed your standards in men. And you may have maybe developed the tiniest crush on both of them, at the same time. Like how?? You didn’t think you were physically capable of doing that?

You sigh, staring at the rest of your falafel wrap, and force yourself to accept reality. As much as you adore them, you know that your little crush will be completely unreciprocated. This you found out through your group chat, now named ‘Hazel’s Nuts’ (courtesy of Scarlet). It’s not that you confessed to them or anything, they just happened to let slip to you one day that they’re a mated pair. And hybrids mate for life, so they take that shit very seriously. Although this news stung a little, it didn’t cause you to be envious in any way. At the end of the day, crush or not, you’re just glad you have two more people in your life you can confidently call your close friends.

For the past two months you’ve actively kept up with them. Sometimes you’ll send memes back and forth all night, sometimes you’ll group call each other after work. Every once in a while, when they’re not busy doing whatever it is they’re doing, they facetime you. These are your favorite moments because you get to see them in all their attractive glory. Just because they don’t like you that way doesn’t mean a girl can’t deny herself some eye candy.

You guys never run out of things to talk about. Each day you check the group chat and it’ll be popping. Your topics range from the movie that just came out, restaurants they discovered, to even discussing new criminal cases (you got Hazel into watching true crime Youtube videos and now he’s entirely hooked). Sometimes you just sit back and watch the two boys bicker back and forth. It’s hysterical how they decide to argue through text since you’re sure both of them are probably in the same room together, but you appreciate them keeping you in the loop.

At this point they’ve already virtually met Karli. She’s been in the background of one or two of your facetimes. You’re glad she approves of them instantly and you wonder if it has a little something to do with their, especially Scarlet’s, boyish charms. She does keep you grounded though, never failing to mention how it’s suspicious that you don’t know their real names yet.

“I don’t think they mean any harm and they seem genuinely nice,” she had reassured, “But you gotta admit not telling you their names is a little sketch.”

You just shrugged. “They have their reasons.”

Internally you do believe she has a point. Even though you don’t want to force information out of the boys, you’re a naturally curious person. Your mind has already compiled a list of all the unusual facts you’ve discovered about them.

A couple of things have become clear to you over the span of the last few months. The most important fact is that although they share tons of content with you, you still have no idea what they do for a living. You’re also 90% sure they don’t have an owner since there’s never anyone else around them. Another, more interesting fact is that you suspect they’re actually pretty wealthy. Every time you facetime, they’re in some sort of lavish looking hotel penthouse, with fancy furniture and artwork hanging in the background. They also dress designer, occasionally flashing their Balenciaga hats, or little Gucci necklaces, or other fancy logos your peasant-ass is unfamiliar with. You actually googled one of Hazel’s t-shirts from your most recent facetime, having no idea what the FG logo stood for. You remember your eyes bulging out of your head after discovering his plain white shirt with two black letters cost more than $200. TWO HUNDred dollars?!!! Do you know how much food and gas you could buy with $200? Why in the fuck would he spend that much on a shirt??

If only you knew how much their watches cost.

Friday rolls around faster than you can blink and before you know it, you’re rushing home from work to get ready. Bryce texted you for the first time on Wednesday to see if you wanted sushi (hell yeah you did) and you were fortunate enough to notify your boss so you could be let out early. You’ve been such a work horse the last few months that they had no choice but to let you leave in advance.

So far Bryce seems nice enough but you can’t get a proper gauge of his character through text. Oh well, guess you’ll find out tonight.

The sushi place you’re meeting at is on the fancier side, and includes a bar. Knowing yourself, if there’s a bar, there’s no car, which means you won’t be driving. The last thing you want is to leave your car parked somewhere sketchy overnight cause you accidentally got too tipsy to drive. You like to think you have some semblance of control but it’s always better to be safe than sorry.

You were let out at 4, which means you have only 2 hours to get ready. As soon as you get home you sprint to your closet at lightning speed. You rummage through your drawers, hoping to find something, ANYthing, that’s appropriate for this occasion. For one quick second, your eyes dart to your forbidden drawer, aka the ho drawer. It contains the remains of your slutty party dresses and tops from college. Being the hoarder that you are, you never like throwing away things, even if you have no need for them anymore. Wait, what the hell am I thinking? You snap your eyes back to the rest of your closet. You’re going for sushi, not to dance at some club. Besides, you have no intention of sleeping with anyone tonight.

After an hour of deciding on a suitable outfit you finally start on your makeup. Your work makeup has dried up, and now feels gross and cakey on your face, so you remove it all and start anew. At least you had the decency to shower this morning so your hair isn’t too gross.

The place is around a 10 minute Uber ride away but you took your sweet ass time getting ready so now you’re in a frenzy. When your phone buzzes, signaling your driver is here, you swipe on some lipstick last minute, grab some chunky heels, and practically fly out the door.

You stare out the window of your ride, wondering why you’re lowkey wishing you could spend Friday night at home watching tv instead, or even just spending the evening facetiming two hot hybrids. This all feels a little too rushed. But no, you shake your head and attempt to hype yourself up. C’mon Y/N this is the first real date you’ve been on in ages. At least TRy and be a little more motivated.

The car pulls up and you thank the driver, stepping out into the warm night air. August is still hot, even in the evenings, and you’re glad you didn’t bring a cardigan. Bryce has already texted you, letting you know he was inside, sitting at your reserved spot. You take a deep breath. Ok, time to put on your game face. You strut in, trying your very best to push the faces of two very good-looking friends out of your mind.

You spot Bryce in a corner, head buried in his phone, his wavy blonde hair not easy to miss. You slide in the seat across from him, prompting him to quickly look up and flash you an easygoing smile.

“Hello there!”

“Hi!” You chuckle nervously. “I hope I’m not too late.”

“Not all all!” He slides his phone back in his pocket, smile still on his face. “You’re just in time.”

A waiter comes by and you both take your orders. You make sure to order a drink because you have a feeling you’ll need the liquid courage to strike up more conversation. Maybe some sake will help ease you.

The first couple minutes are kinda awkward, not gonna lie. Bryce tries to get you to talk about work and you do answer him, but honestly work is the last thing you want to discuss right now. You try to shift the conversation to his job, but that only ends up being worse as he quickly launches into the ins and outs of life as an accountant. Maybe your two hybrids friends have spoiled you because you barely remember the last time you had to fill empty space with small talk.

When the food comes you quietly sigh a breath of relief, hoping the sushi in front of you will help you both get settled and give you time to think of more interesting topics to talk about.

“So,” you wrack your brain, “let’s get to know each other more! Like, what’s your favorite ice cream flavor?” That’s got to be a safe enough question.

“Hm, I’m actually more of a yogurt kinda guy, ice cream’s not really my thing.”

You freeze, California roll halfway to your mouth. Ok, ok, cool, cool. So he doesn’t like ice cream, that’s fine. You sweat a little. Hurry Y/N think of something else to ask.

“Yeah, I guess that’s not everybody’s thing.” You grimace. “Then what about, i don’t know, cookies? What’s your favorite kinda cookie?”

“Actually I prefer crackers, you know, like the saltine ones? Cookies can be too sweet sometimes.” He’s devouring his dragon roll, not noticing the panic in your eyes. He’s caught you off guard twice today.

This isn’t going well and you’re genuinely surprised because you know Karli has done her research, certain that you two would get along. Guess life really likes to throw you some curveballs.

Who the fuck prefers crackers over cookies anyway?? Ok. Code red! Change the fucking subject before the silence becomes unbearable. Your dessert-related ice breakers had never failed you before but there’s always a first for everything, you guess.

You take a generous swig of sake. “Right, crackers are... good.” You’re mumbling at this point. “Ok, um, what about hobbies? Got any?” Please throw me a fucking bone here! Your mind is reeling but externally you try to act calm and composed, dabbing at the corner or you mouth delicately with a napkin.

“Oh yeah!” His face lights up. Oh thank god. “Do you like football? Me and my buddies at the office sorta formed this team, and we play against other departments. It’s really fun! You should come by and watch sometime!”

“Uh, sure!” Football. Huh. The last time you were anywhere near a football was when you met someone from your college team at a bar. Well he wasn’t holding a football per se, but that counts right? You only remember how much of a douche he was, trying to hit on one of the girls from your group after getting entirely too wasted.

“Awesome! I’ll hit you up when the next game is set!” It’s almost impressive how he doesn’t notice all the tension emitting from your body. In fact, you have a feeling he’s actually enjoying himself and your company.

The rest of the dinner goes by in the same manner. With him happily answering all your questions and you slowly discovering just how little you both have in common.

He is a gentleman though, that you can’t deny. When all the food has been cleared away he immediately swoops in to pay the bill, ignoring your insistence at paying for your half at least. He really isn’t a bad person, just the opposite. Besides your difference in interests, he is a sweet guy overall, and you do find him to be physically attractive. There’s just no spark, no silver lining that keeps you wanting more. When you both get out of your seats he offers to drive you back to your place but you politely decline. You say it’s because you don’t want to trouble him but in reality you need space for yourself to think.

As soon as you arrive home you take off your shoes and plop yourself down on the couch, running your hands through your hair. You check your phone, a few notifications from ‘Hazel’s Nuts’ popping up.

Scarlet: Do you think she’s done with her date yet??

Hazel: Hey Y/N how was it?

You had told them about this date beforehand and they were excited to root for you, which did bruise your ego a bit since it reaffirmed your unreturned attraction to them, but also prompted you to go through with it. This last notification was from 45 minutes ago but you couldn’t reply since you were still at dinner.

You: hi I just got back!

You don’t expect them to respond right away but to your surprise:

Scarlet: And???

You: it was meh

Hazel: That bad huh?

You: no nothing like that!

You: he’s really cute and all, it’s just we basically have nothing in common

Scarlet: Aww poor Y/N (sad emojis)

Hazel: Hey happens to the best of us

Hazel: Actually I wouldn’t know cause I’ve only been with fox boy

You: thanks anyway, i appreciate it Hazel

Maybe it’s cause you’re a little tipsy, or maybe you just feel so open and vulnerable around them tonight, but the next text you send is especially honest.

You: ughhh idk guys i’m just so lonely!!! why can’t things just work out for me for once! Like the first real date I go on in years and this happens :(

They don’t respond for a long time. So long in fact you start to get worried that you exposed too much about yourself.

15 minutes pass by but to you it feels like hours. You’ve already removed all your makeup and changed into your pajama shirt. You relocate to your bed, checking your phone again, thinking of a way to play off your last text as a joke when:

Hazel: If you’re so lonely maybe you could adopt?

You grin to yourself, glad that they’re not being judgmental. Their concern for you resets your mood.

You: ha ha you know my apartment doesn’t allow pets

You: but honestly if i could i would, cause i’d definitely get a little kitty

Hazel: I’m flattered

You: thanks but i meant a real cat

Hazel: Either way i’m flattered

Scarlet: HEY what about foxes??

You: pretty sure owning a pet fox is illegal here Scar

Scarlet: (angry emojis)

Hazel: You heard what the lady said

You: anyways i’m going to bed

You: thanks for making me feel better guys <3

Hazel: Anytime

Scarlet: But hypothetically if foxes weren’t illegal you’d get a pet fox right??

You: of course i would sweetie

Scarlet: (happy emojis)

Scarlet: Yay!!! Goodnight Y/N!

Hazel: Night Y/N

You: night boys

You wake up next morning on your own time, checking your phone to see that you slept in till 11am. Wow, you haven’t slept that well in a while. Maybe it’s the stress from the previous weeks of non stop working, or the pressure to maintain your composure last night, but either way you knocked out like a rock. You sit up, lean back, and stretch your arms as far as they can go.

Today you’re meeting Karli at her place up north. She couldn’t ask you about last night since she was occupied, her seven year anniversary with her boyfriend Sunny coinciding with your date. But she assured you a couple days ago over facetime that today was going to be a girl’s day, no boyfriend included.

“Hey!” Sunny had popped out of nowhere in the video when he heard the news, a look of mock shock on his face. “I live here too! So what, you're just gonna kick me out of the house and leave me on the streets to starve?”

“My god stop being dramatic!” Karli had shoved him playfully off the screen. “I need girl time with Y/N and it’s not girl time if you’re in the house.”

“I can be one of the girls! Right Y/N?” He sounded betrayed.

“I know you can but I’m not the one who makes the rules.” You pointed out.

He sighed. “You got me there.”

Since you’re just spending time at Karli’s and getting takeout, you felt zero need to dress up. You washed your face, threw on an oversized t-shirt some old hookup left at your place (hey it was cute) and some tights, and tied your hair out of your face. This entire process took less than 30 minutes and next thing you know you’re ready to head out.

You sent Karli a quick text, letting her know you’re on the way. You grab a bottle of prosecco, your purse, and keys, saying a quick goodbye to your roommate Ayah on your way out. She gives you a small wave, reminding you that she, yet again, has to leave today for a whole week. You backtrack to give her a quick goodbye hug, telling her to drive safe, before you take off.

Karli’s place isn’t as far as the beach coffeehouse you frequent, but it’s still located in the wealthier side of town. The drive lasts a good 20 minutes but it feels a lot faster since you spend the whole time singing along to your favorite songs.

You pull up to Karli’s apartment complex, driving yourself to the guest parking space. Her apartment building is pretty tall, with a distant, but gorgeous view of the beach.

Karli squeals when she opens the door, immediately giving you a big hug. When you break apart you hold up the bottle of prosecco in your hand, waving it in front of her face.

“I know you have the ingredients here so let’s make some spritz!”

“Yay!”

Aperol spritz is your favorite at-home drink to make with Karli. She had gone on a short trip to Italy in the summer between her two years at grad school and tried the drink there, completely falling in love. She googled the recipe, made it for you one day, you had said “Oh FUck that’s good!”, and the rest is history.

She grabs the bottle and quickly relocates it to her kitchen. Her energy levels are sky high today and you wonder what’s got her so elated. She’s skipping everywhere she goes, there’s a permanent smile etched on her face, and she’s humming non stop as she pulls you away from the front entrance.

Sunny emerges from the hallway, two hands in the air in surrender.

“I’m heading out, I swear!”

Sunny is a big teddy bear of a man, with tattoos splayed across his arms and a well-kept beard. There’s a term you learned online called ‘lumbersexual’ and that’s exactly the word to describe Sunny. He almost reminds you of Jason Momoa, the actor who played Aquaman. Those who just meet him think he looks intimidating at first but once you get past his height and size, you see just how much of a softie he is. He’s also extremely intelligent, working somewhere in the computer industry developing software.

Karli bounds over to him and gives him a big snuggly hug and tiptoes all the way up to give a quick kiss to his lips.

“Have fun babe! Love you!”

“Love you too! Also bye Y/N!”

“Bye Sunny have fun!” You smile as he treads out the door.

You both head to the kitchen and start making your drinks.

“Aren’t you extra chipper today!” You mention as you pour a splash of club soda into your glass.

“Am I?” She doesn’t look at you, wearing a mysterious grin, stirring her mixture with a straw.

After you both finish making your drinks, you head to her living room and settle onto her plush sofa.

Karli yawns, almost too dramatically, covering her left hand over her mouth. You quirk your eyebrow at her, wondering why she’s acting so weird until you spot it. There’s something large, something shiny, on her left ring finger.

“Oh my god….” Your entire mouth hangs open. “Oh my GOD!!! Is THAT…?”

“Yep!”

“Did HE -?”

“Yep!!”

“AND YOU - ?

“YEP I DID!!”

“YOU’RE ENGAGED?!?!?!”

“I KNOW!!!!”

What happens after is a shriek rivaling that of a pterodactyl taking flight after spotting prey, except the sound is just the two of you screaming and jumping up and down in Karli’s living room.

You bring her into a tight hug, so emotional that you’re about to tear up. And you’re not one to cry that easily.

“I’m so happy for you!” You pull apart and wipe a stray tear from your cheek.

“Thank you! I’m so happy too!” Her smile is also a little watery. “Like I knew he was gonna do it soon since we’ve been together so long but I’m still shocked you know?”

“I know!”

“And I’m sorry. Today was supposed to be me asking about your date last night.” She dabs at her eyes. “Bryce really likes you too. He even texted me thanking me for introducing you!!”

“Oh shit...” You take this chance to drink your Aperol spritz. “I’m gonna be completely honest with you. It’s true he’s cute but there was no spark.” You give her an apologetic grin, knowing she really wanted this to work out for you. “Like don’t get me wrong he’s super nice and stuff but I just couldn’t find anything we have in common. I can’t believe he’s still into me?!”

“Aw I’m sorry babe.” She pouts. “I really did think you would be a good match.”

“It’s ok. Anyways,” you wave her off, bringing up the more important subject at hand. “I’d much rather talk about your engagement! Like, hello?? You’re getting married, girl!!

Another squeal. You really hope her neighbors don’t complain.

“I know!! I literally don’t know what to think!” She smiles wistfully, like she’s on cloud nine, then brings her attention back to you. “Also you’re the maid of honor and you can’t back out of that.”

“I would never!” You gasp dramatically, one hand clutching your chest.

“But don’t worry!” She sets her drink down. “The wedding’s not happening till next year at least. We don’t have to start planning till way later.”

The rest of the day you spend chatting to Karli, prompting her to spill every single detail about the proposal. Even though you have no need to help her plan a wedding just yet, you can’t hold back from offering some ideas that spring to mind.

“I got it!!” You shout.

“You got what?”

“Hear me out,” you may or may not be a little tipsy at this point. “Goth wedding!” You say with jazz hands. Then you reach down to take another sip of your drink.

“Hmm…” She pretends to think about the idea, then giggles. “And that’s enough prosecco for you.” Plucking the glass out of your hand, she transfers it to her kitchen sink.

A couple more hours roll by. You both decide to watch a cheesy Netflix horror movie to sober up, paired with the Mexican takeout you ordered. By the time the credits roll, the sun has long since set, along with your alcohol buzz. You check the time on your phone, deciding it’s best to head home since poor Sunny has been respectfully out and about all day, giving you your girl time.

You give Karli one last big hug, murmuring into her hair how happy you are for her situation. She walks you to the apartment elevator, where you proceed to blow her a swift kiss right before the doors close in your face.

Reality sets in the moment you’re alone. Your head swims with thoughts as you drive back. Most of them are happy about your best friend’s engagement but you can’t discount the little ugly bubble of jealousy that wells down deep in your gut, reminding you of your own current situation. It’s not until you reach home that you realize you didn’t even play music in the car.

Ayah has long since gone on her business trip by the time you arrive at your apartment. The whole place looks dark and unwelcome, only highlighting the emptiness you feel inside. You trudge to your room and slump onto your bed. You try to scroll through social media as a way to distract yourself but you’re met, instead, by all the pictures and posts of happy people, showing off their achievements or bragging about their seemingly perfect lives.

You immediately lock your phone and throw it onto the blanket, the stress and anxiety from the last few months building to a boiling point in your mind. Your biggest concern is you still haven’t figured out your lease situation, and you only have two more months to move out or find someone new. Ayah has tried her best to help you but she’s bombarded by business trips so no luck so far. You let out a small groan and bury your head in the pillow, deciding to sleep it off and worry about your problems tomorrow, even though it’s not even that late.

Right as you’re about to drift off into dreamland, your phone rings. You fumble around the covers until it’s in your hands and check that you have a facetime call from your two favorite boys.

Immediately your body jerks awake and you sit up, swiping the answer button.

“Hey guys!”

“Hi Y/N!!” Scarlet’s heart-shaped smile is taking up most of the screen but you can see a sliver of white and grey hair behind him.

Hazel elbows him out of the way. “Sorry were you sleeping?” He tilts his head, ears twitching. “Wait, it’s only 10 pm where you’re at. You never sleep this early.”

“No I wasn’t... I mean, yeah I was trying to sleep but…”

You sigh. It’s their faces. Just seeing them through a screen, their wide, innocent eyes blinking up at you, makes you want to spill everything.

You nibble on your bottom lip for a moment. “I was just kinda having an existential crisis so I decided to sleep it off. No biggie.”

Scarlet’s eyebrows furrow in concern. After only two months, he can already tell when something is off with your tone of voice.

“Y/N what’s wrong?” He looks up for a bit, pausing to think. “Was it the date last night?”

“The date?” Oh yeah the date. Yet another thing that didn’t go well. You totally forgot about that can of worms. “Not really… or actually kinda?”

You try to reorganize your jumbled mess of a brain and put your thoughts into words.

“So you know how I said I was going to Karli’s today?”

“Mhm,” they nod at you to continue.

“Well turns out she got engaged last night.”

“That’s awesome! I’m so happy for her!” Scarlet bounces a little, then quickly returns to a more serious tone. “But that doesn’t really answer my question.”

“Yeah I’m happy for her too.” And you genuinely are.

You pause for another moment, teetering on the edge of playing your emotions off like it’s no big deal or exposing all of your concerns yet again. Your need for an outlet to vent to wins in the end. For the first time you find yourself unable to confide in Karli because you want her to be happy and focus on the engagement rather than to be preoccupied with you. Before you know it, the words flow from your mouth like running water.

“It’s just that her announcement really brought me back to earth, and I started thinking a little too much about my own life.” You purse your lips. “I don’t know… I feel pretty selfish right now because she’s doing so well and I just can’t help comparing my life to hers. I’m so proud of her but it’s like everything in her life is coming together and I just want that for me also.” You throw your hands up in frustration, almost knocking the phone off from where it leans on your pillow. “I mean we’re the same age for god's sake! Why can’t I get my shit together??”

“Well you should be proud of yourself though,” Hazel cuts in. “Cause we are.” He gestures to Scarlet and himself.

“Yeah!” Scarlet chimes. “I mean you’ve got a full time job and a place to stay. I know you don’t feel like it’s the most ideal situation right now but please don’t discredit yourself.”

“Thanks guys.” You calm down a bit, but then you remember the whole issue with your apartment. Scratching the back of your neck, a habit you’ve picked up whenever you’re nervous, you say in a much smaller voice, “although my ‘place to stay’ might not last much longer.”

“What do you mean?” Both boys’ eyebrows are raised in confusion.

You realize you never mentioned your living situation to them, the topic always pushed to the back of your mind whenever they initiated conversation.

“Yeah.” A dry chuckle leaves your lips. “My lease ends soon and Ayah wants to move to a place of her own. And I have two months to figure out where to live or find another roommate.” You let out a frustrated huff. “She’s been so helpful but still no luck I guess.” You shrug in defeat.

You feel like a balloon that’s lost all its air, brain exhausted from running through all the problems in your life.

“Actually that’s pretty convenient for- ” Scarlet starts, but is elbowed again in the ribs by Hazel. “Ow!”

“Not yet!” The cat hisses quietly to him.

“Huh?” Now you’re confused. What in the world are they talking about?

Hazel turns back to you. “I’m really sorry about everything Y/N. If there’s anything we can do to help please let us know.”

“Thanks buddy.” You offer him a small smile, choosing to ignore what just happened since they clearly don’t want to reveal anything just yet.

Hazel then shifts to a more nervous stance, ears slightly flattening and both hands grabbing his floofy grey tail for comfort. It’s the cutest goddamn thing you’ve ever seen in your life.

“So Y/N, um, there’s a reason we called you tonight.”

You’re glad for a change in subject, a much needed distraction away from your downward spiraling thoughts.

“Oh right! Yeah. What’s up guys?”

Scarlet steps in front of him again, blocking most of the screen.

“We have a surprise for you!” He’s so close to the camera that you can only see half of his unblemished face but from the way his eyes crinkle, you can tell he’s giddy with anticipation.

“A surprise- ?”

“Yeah!!”

Hazel nudges himself into view again. “Quit hogging the whole screen fox! I swear to god next time we’re using the tv. I can’t see anything! Anyways,” he turns to you and smooths his shirt, expression back to stoic, “are you free next weekend?”

“I should be. Why?” You’re still a little lost on what the surprise is.

“Cause we’re coming back to town!” Scarlet blurts out.

“You are?!” Suddenly all your negativity melts away, replaced by excitement. Hard to believe just five simple words can shift your mood a complete 180°.

“But wait, there’s more!” You snort at how much Scarlet sounded like an infomercial just now.

“We’d like to invite you to dinner next Saturday night. If that’s ok with you?” Hazel isn’t as physically expressive as Scarlet but the hopeful shine in his eyes gives himself away.

You melt at his expression, heart rate speeding up. “Of course that’s ok! I’d love to!”

“Great!” He flashes one of his rare gummy smiles. “Saturday night. 7 pm. We’ll text you the details.”

“Yep!” Scarlet pipes in. “There’s something important we gotta ask- !” He lets out a small gasp, tail bristling, and clamps a hand over his mouth as if he just said something he shouldn’t have.

“What’s important?” You’ve gotta admit, your curiosity is at its peak right now, and it doesn’t help that they’re acting a little weird today.

Hazel rubs his temples in exasperation, groaning at Scarlet. “What part of ‘not yet’ did you not understand?” He then addresses you. “Sorry Y/N I promise we’ll tell you when we see you in person.”

“Ok.” Cool. That’s fine. You’re a little nervous about what they have to say and it’ll be torture to wait but you’re a big girl and you can handle not knowing for a week. “I can’t wait to see you guys!!” you added.

“Me too!” Scarlet’s personality is so bubbly and contagious that you can’t help but smile back at him.

“Same.” Hazel lets out a small yawn. “Well we’re in a different time zone than you and it’s really late here so I gotta hit the hay.”

“Mk, go get your beauty sleep.” You give them a little wave. “And thanks for everything. I mean it.”

“No problem Y/N.” Scarlet also gives off a yawn, stretching his tired limbs. “Goodnight.”

“Night.”

After ending the facetime call, you lie on your back, staring at the ceiling. Your mind is active once again, but this time it’s not clouded with self-deprecating thoughts. Instead, you spend the remainder of the evening theorizing about the ‘important’ things the boys have to tell you. Maybe you’ll finally find out their real names. Or maybe they’ll reveal something else about themselves, like why they’re constantly travelling, or what they actually do for a living. Either way you can’t wait for next Saturday to come around.

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#bts fic #bts hybrid au #hoseok fanfic #yoongi fanfic #bts smut #bts fluff #bts fanfction #hybrid hoseok #hybrid yoongi #bts hybrid fic

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copias-thrall · 4 years

Text

Recognition

Suey makes a surprising discovery.

(Start at the beginning)

*light breath play*

It’s been happening for weeks.

A sudden feeling of eyes on you. Weird, little incidents that you can’t help but connect together in your mind—your own Baader-Meinhof phenomenon.

Browsing at the consignment shop, and you look up—having felt the weight of a stare—to see a gaggle of girls whispering behind their hands. When you catch eyes with them, they make a hasty retreat, giggling. You look down at yourself to make sure your boob isn’t hanging out, or that there’s no toilet paper stuck to your shoe—but everything seems in order.

At the MAC store (if you wanna upgrade Mary’s stock that’s nobody’s business but your own), when two baby goths seems to be intently watching what you put in your basket. You smile at them, but they just look down quickly, as if the floor holds the secret to non-cakey face powder.

Enjoying $5 beers and reading a book at your neighborhood bar when a group of emo dudes sends you a drink. And, ok—not to brag—that’s not the odd part. It’s the way they elbow each other until one of them comes over and asks if you’re expecting company. You eye him—and the expectant pack he came from—deadpaning that you don’t do gangbangs. He giggles nervously.

“So no one’s joining you?”

“NoPe.”

You have your speech all prepared when he just sighs and says That’s a sham, before heading back over to his group, which reluctantly leaves. Men, leaving when you say you’re by yourself.

Weird.

It’s all enough to give a girl a complex. So, you try to convince yourself that people looking away when you look up and clearly talking about you surreptitiously, is all in your head.

You’re having a pre-holiday lunch at the greasy punk diner with your friend Arry because she's not coming to the tree trimming, when the pieces start to fall into place. The two of you are embroiled in a dish session, when a lone girl approaches you. She’s maybe 19—growing out green hair and sporting a Monroe piercing—and she approaches you shyly.

“Excuse me,” she all but whispers.

“Yes?” you say, not unkindly.

She hesitates a little, her eyes darting to yours and then back to the floor, then asks, “You’re Mary’s girl, right? Mary Goore?”

Arry—who you have not told—raises her eyebrows at you and rests her chin in her hand, curious as to where this is going.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah I am.”

The girl sort of rocks back and forth a little, sucking in one side of her cheek.

“I have a-a thing. He just. Always seems so intense? If I gave it to you … ?”

“A thing.”

“It’s-it’s nothing weird. Just a-a drawing.”

Arry is looking at you like, This makes sense to you?!

You smile big and try to send out I’m-not-going-to-eat-you vibes, which is a struggle since your default setting is mostly fuck-off-and-die.

“All right, let’s see then.”

The girl’s face snaps to look up at you, gauging your sincerity, before swinging her messenger bag around. She fumbles around in it, bringing out a sketchbook. You can see she’s shaking as she flips through it. She finally manages to get to the right page, and then she’s turning it out and around for you to see.

It’s a gorgeous caricature of Mary on stage in his corpse paint looking grave and holding his guitar out like a weapon. There’s a speech bubble that says, “u want sum fuk?��.

It’s hilarious.

When you don’t respond immediately—only because you’re so entranced—the girl starts sputtering.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“No, it’s wonderful,” you say as you look up at her. “This is great—right up his alley.”

She brightens. “Really??”

“Really,” you agree.

“Th-thanks. So you’d … ?”

“Yes, I’d love to give this to him, if that’s what you want.”

She nods vigorously.

Luckily you have your computer and bag with you, so you gingerly place the drawing inside your closed laptop for safekeeping. The girl is looking at you as if you’d hung the moon.

“Do you have an insta?” you ask.

“Oh! Yeah, it’s …” She leans down and writes her handle on a napkin.

You take it, smiling warmly at her, and are surprised when she leans down for a side hug, before quickly scampering off. Arry is giving you A Look.

“What. The Absolute Fuck. Was that about?”

You blush. It’s not that you’ve been hiding Mary … it’s just that it’s so new, even if doing the math in your head tells you otherwise. You give her a little shrug.

Arry glares at you. “Ok, fine. I was giving you a chance. But if you’re not going to come clean …” She pulls out her phone, tapping and scrolling through it before sliding it over to you. “Explain .”

Picking up the phone you see a grainy picture of you at Regency sitting on Mary’s lap. Your head snaps up.

“Where did you—”

“Oh, keep scrolling.”

You do, and you find several more from that night, some really unflattering zooms with redeye from other bars, and the selfie Roxie took—in which you and Mary are pale and glowering and Roxie still looks high.

“Where did you get these ?” you hiss, clenching the phone.

When Arry holds out her hand, you reluctantly hand it back over.

“One of my friends sent that last one to me—that’s from Roxie Hearts’ instagram, by the way. She’s a pretty well-known—”

“Yes, I know.” You put your head in your hands.

“She’s since deleted it, by the way. But, Otis sent it to me asking if this wasn’t you. I kind of fell down a rabbit hole of hashtags from there. So. Explain.”

“Um,” you say and you trace patterns with your finger on the table, “you remember Bathroom Guy?”

“This is the guy who fucked you in a bathroom?!”

You grimace at your friend.

“Yeah?”

Your friend slaps the table and shakes her hands at you.

“HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL ME YOU’RE DATING BATHROOM GUY ?!”

“It’s only been like 6 months or something,” you mutter.

She throws a french fry at you.

“Six months !”

“Dating is like pregnancy ! You can’t announce it too soon! It might not take!”

“That’s only for like, three months, you cow. You’re fucking impossible. Only you would think 6 months is nothing! DETAILS .”

“I just,” you stammer, “I don’t know! He put his number in my phone and I just. Kept calling him up. For sex. I have needs you know!”

“Oh yes. We’re all very clear on what a fucking nympho you are. But how do you go from booty calls to random teens giving you fan art of your boyfriend who’s in a band.”

You put your head in your hands and moan.

“I don’t know! Here I am thinking of him as This Guy who just randomly shows up to fuck, to complain about everything, and to watch my cable when he’s not working—and it turns out that’s dating. Ta-da!”

You give her jazz hands.

She scrunches her face at you.

“Tell me you’re not in one of those situations you get yourself into.”

“What situations?”

“Ok, look. Don’t get offended—”

“Arr—”

“No: listen, hun—sometimes you date guys just because it’s like you don’t know what else to do. Don’t give me that look, you know you do. They're clearly into you, and you just seem indifferent most of the time.”

You shrug. “Well, Mary isn’t like that.”

“Which is why you haven’t fucking told anyone?” She raises her eyebrow.

You start shredding your napkin. “I guess maybe I keep waiting for him to realize I’m not the cool girl he thinks I am? How embarrassing would that be if I told people and then he dumped me? He knows all kinds of … people.”

“Oh, hon,” she says as she puts her hand on yours. “You’re amazing. That’s what he sees.”

“Yeah, well. Maybe,” you say, and you quickly take back your hand.

There’s a beat, and then Arry asks, “Do you have any pictures of him?”

“Seems like you have plenty,” you huff.

“Yeah, all grainy. C’mon! Don’t hold out on me!”

Begrudgingly, you fish out your phone and pull up the G-rated album—which you created after Krissy almost swiped too far in your camera roll—and hand it over to Arry. She takes it greedily and starts zooming and swiping.

“Huh,” she says, her face twisting in … concentration? “Don’t I know this guy?”

“You literally just said you stalked him on insta.”

“No, from somewhere else.” She waves her hand at you. “Whatever.” Arry keeps scrolling. “Well, he looks … happy.”

You frown. “You don’t like him.”

She hands the phone back to you. “I don’t know him. I just think the makeup is weird.” She leans in. “Does he take it off? Have you seen his real face?!”

You scrunch your face at her. “Of course he takes it off.” You toss your hair haughtily. “You think I’m going to let him eat me out like that? Like I need another UTI in my life.”

Arry bursts out laughing. “You did seem to get a disproportionate amount.”

Shrugging, you say, “Spermicide, who knew?”

“Yeah, sure. That’s why.”

You throw a fry back at her. “Bitch.”

She sticks her tongue out at you.

“Anyway . No, he usually doesn’t wear it when we’re just hanging out.”

“So you don’t hang out a lot?”

You squint at her. “Why would you say that?”

“None of those pictures show his face!”

“They don’t?” you ask as you open your phone to scroll through again. She’s right, so you pop back to your camera roll. “Oh. Well,” you look up at her, “those ones are … private.”

“Sexy pictures aren’t supposed to have faces!”

While there are X-rated pictures of the 2 of you sans faces on your roll, the ones that you’re talking about are not those. One is you in bed wearing Mary’s tee with him asleep and drooling on your chest; another is him at your cafe table focused on his guitar; still another is him at your feet, staring up at you.

So—not X-rated but definitely private.

“Yeah, well—it doesn’t need to be sexy to be private.” You lock your phone and shove it back in your bag.

Arry is staring at you.

“What?”

“You like him.”

“Of course I like him. I’m dating him, aren’t I?”

She gives you a knowing smile, and you roll your eyes in response.

“SoOo … when do I get to meet him?”

You groan again.

You’ve basically just gotten home yourself—and are in the process of shucking off your stockings to soak—when Mary bangs into your place with his usual finesse. You’re surprised because Fridays are his big money-making day at the bar, especially now that it’s the holidays.

“What are you doing here?” you ask as you wander out of your bathroom.

Mary makes a face at you as he throws down his stuff. “Well, hello to you too.”

You roll your eyes. “You know what I mean—you’re supposed to be working.”

He takes in your outside clothes. “Oh … were you … going out?”

“Just got in, actually. Saw a friend for lunch.”

Mary continues taking off his shoes. “Ah. Well, I switched.”

“Switched for what? You’re already working tomorrow night.”

“What are you? My day planner now?”

You bristle. “Christ, Mare. Is it a crime to know when you’re going to be unavailable. What? I should just sit here waiting for you whenever just in case ?”

“Fuck—calm down, all right? I asked for the night off, ok?.”

“You’re blowing off work?” you ask as you squint at him. “Why would you do that? I thought you were counting on the tips?”

“See, this is why I told you I switched. I’m not ‘blowing off work’—I asked Mickey last week if there were any days he could spare me, and he called to let me know I could take tonight off if I wanted.”

You shift uneasily.

“But why would you do that?”

“Uh … to spend time with you?”

“But, I’m not … I didn’t ask you to do that. I don’t want to be why you can’t make rent. I could’ve waited til before I left on Monday to see you.”

Mary just sighs and flops down on your couch, pulling the balled-up afghan over his lap.

“Suey, I’m not as broke as all that. It’s tight—sure—but. Life is more than just watching it pass you by while you feed into the capitalist grind, you know? Is it so out there that I want to see my girlfriend without either of us having to fuck off afterwards?”

He looks over at you. You crawl onto the couch after him, squeezing yourself behind him so you can massage his shoulders. Mary melts into your touch.

“Of course I want to see you, but I don’t want to be why you can’t concentrate on your band, especially since you guys have such a full schedule til the end of the year. I know how important that is.”

He tilts his head to kiss your hand.

“Even if that’s why I can’t see you as much as I’d like?”

“Clingy dudes are such a turn off,” you say as in mock affectation. “I like my independence.”

Mary snorts.

You work his neck and shoulders in silence for a while before he catches up one of your hands to kiss the knuckles.

“One day I’ll give you everything.”

Your gut does something complicated, so you pull your hand back to rest on his shoulder.

“That’s a nice sentiment, Mary, but I won’t hold you to it.”

Mary sighs with his whole body.

“I wish you would.”

The two of you stay like that for a while—with you encircling him from behind and his head back leaned back on you.

“So …” you say. “Apparently we’re all over the internet.”

He twists a little to face you.

“What do you mean?”

You scramble off the couch to grab your phone from your bag, and present the pictures now in it to Mary. He scrolls through, his face indecipherable.

“These are all …?”

“On Instagram, yeah.”

When he gets to Roxie’s selfie, he exhales heavily, resting his forehead on the phone.

“I’ll tell her to delete this.”

“It’s apparently already gone.”

He rolls his head back toward you.

“I’m sorry.”

You squint at him. “Why are you sorry?”

“I don’t think sometimes.”

You smirk at him. “I’m not going to refute that.”

He makes a tetch noise at you.

“I didn’t think what, uh, showing you off would mean. For you.”

You crawl into his lap. “I mean, it’s a little weird. I’m no one.”

Mary chucks you under the hey. “Hey. You’re someone. To me.”

Rolling your eyes, you say, “You know what I mean, Mare.”

“Well, I’m sorry you’re all over Instagram, but I’m not sorry people think you’re someone.”

He’s giving you his soft eyes, and you suddenly remember the fan art. You let out an Oh before climbing off his lap. Mary seems a little put off, but you can tell his curiosity is piqued when you extract the sheet of paper stock from your laptop.

“ A fan of yours gave this to me to give to you.”

Mary looks pained.

“It’s amazing,” you say as you hold out the paper. He takes it gingerly, and you make yourself comfortable once more on your couch. He’s staring at the page, the corners of his mouth twitching upward.

“You should feature it on the band’s insta and @ her.”

He looks at you. “The band has an instagram?”

“You’re fucking useless, you know that? Yes, your band has an insta. It’s awful, by the way—who takes your pictures? A dog with a GoPro?”

“Uh ….”

“Useless. Anyway, I’m telling you—post it and tag her.”

He carefully sets the picture on your coffee table.

“I’d rather tag you,” he says as he noses into your neck. Your tilt your head to give him access, and you feel his lips press into the juncture of your neck—

—and then he blows a raspberry into your skin.

You shriek and try to pull away, but he grips you tightly against him as he continues to misuse your neckline. You’re twisting in his grasp, laughing and trying to push him away. He snuffles into your skin, growling and wetly licking at you. You finally manage to get your hands under his shirt, and you wiggle your fingers into his side, causing him to yelp and jerk away.

“That’s cheating!” he says as he fights to keep your menacing hands away from his body.

“All’s fair in love and war, asshole.”

You lunge for him, and he catches up your wrists in his strong grip. He pulls you into him, practically touching his nose to yours. Hooded eyes dart around your face he says,

“Oh yeah? Which one’s this?”

He’s looking at you intensely, his grip relaxing slightly, and that’s when you lean in and bite down hard on his bottom lip. He makes an aggrieved noise as he flinches away, and you use the opening to push him down and dig your hands into his sides again. He’s flailing and cursing at you, so you climb on top of him and fight to get his arms pinned under your legs.

“Hah! I’m queen of the hill, motherfucker. Victory is mine!”

Mary’s face is flushed under his day makeup, and the laughter tears have worn trails down his temples. He’s making Grumpy Skeleton face at you.

“You play dirty, Suey.”

You lean down, hands trailing teasingly over his sides as he tries and fails to jerk away from your touch.

“I play to win. And I demand my spoils.”

“Oh? And what do you think you’ve won?”

“A favor—a kiss. On the lips.”

He quirks his eyebrow at you. “Just a kiss?” His hips shift and buck under you, his erection obvious against you.

You nod. “Just a kiss.”

“Ok, Queen Bitch. You may steal a kiss from your prisoner.”

Smiling wickedly, you hike up your skirt and knee up his torso. His eyes open wide, but his pupils are fully dilated. You cast about for—ah!—a napkin on the coffee table from … whenever … and wipe some of the makeup off his face. He grumbles at you, but allows it.

Once you’re satisfied, you toss the napkin in the general area of your trash can, then you knee up further. When you’re kneeling over his mouth, you reach between your legs and shift the crotch of your polka-dot panties out of the way.

“Kiss it.”

His hands reach up to grip at your thighs; he licks his own lips, then presses a chaste kiss to the ones of your cunt before looking up at you for approval. You pet down his head, the fake blood from his hair flaking off onto your hand and the couch.

“Mmm. That's a good start, but you should show me your technique—use a little tongue.”

Mary closes his eyes again, and his tongue flicks out to trace the seam of your folds. He does this a few times, you letting out pleased sighs, before slowly wiggling the tip in between them. At the first exploratory flick on your clit, you moan and grip his stiff hair. He slithers his tongue up and down through your slit slowly, dipping into your hole before licking at your nub.

“It’s ok to get sloppy!” you gasp as you rock against his chin. “I don’t mind a little spit.”

His grip on your thighs tightens as his mouth presses into you, his tongue now lapping in an ever-increasing rhythm as you gasp and work your hips against his rhythm. Mary shifts his long legs so that they’re bent at the knees, and you lean back into them.

“So good. Fuck … yeah. Put a finger in me!” you moan.

He manages to work a hand under you, his finger slipping in easily because of your wetness, and he presses into the spots you like. You’re trembling with the effort of holding yourself up, and you’re swallowing hard when you remember you have to breathe. Mary redoubles his efforts, his tongue speeding up as he swirls around your clit and his finger beginning to fuck in and out of you.

“Oh god, oh fuck, oh god,” you chant as you feel your pussy begin to pulsate and tighten. Mary presses the tip of his into your nub, and you can feel the sweetness of your orgasm pool, ready to break. You tense, back bowed, about to cum—and Mary, eyes now firmly fixed on you, sets his tongue flying on your engorged clit. You let out ridiculous moans—worthy of a bad porn star—as you climax and your pussy pops, your knees pressing hard into either side of his head. Mary doesn’t stop the massage of his tongue until you lean all your weight into the wall of his thighs behind you.

“Is my Queen Bitch pleased with her favor?” he asks wryly as he wipes his face with the collar of his shirt. You purr out an Mmm, content to just lounge against his knees. He—however—sits up, rearranging the two of you so that you’re straddling his lap.

“If I may be so bold?” he says as he gives a few experimental ruts against you.

“Lay on,” you say lazily, and make a “proceed” motion with your hand.

Mary’s eagerness is palpable as he struggles to get his dick out of his jeans without bucking you off him. You smile at him smugly as you refuse to help with his efforts at all. He makes a few annoyed sounds at you, but is ultimately successful with freeing his cock—your clit giving a throb of interest when you get an eyeful at how hard and flushed it is.

“C’mon,” he whines as he rubs it against you. “You gotta help out.”

Sighing as if you’re so put out, you lift up enough for him to rub his cockhead through your slit a few times—a grunt of approval escaping from his lips—before he gets the tip inside you. You slide down him—the both of you moaning as he enters you fully—and then he hooks his hands over your shoulders for the leverage to pound up into you.

You try to ride him, but his thrusts are too insistent for you to keep up, so instead you grind your clit down into the curls of his pubic hair. He’s been rubbing his face back and forth over your collarbone, but suddenly he tilts his head back and slows his fucks.

“Oh fuck, oh shit. Wanna feel your tits.” He tugs at your blouse. “Take this off before I rip it off you.”

You roll your eyes, but begin to fumble with your buttons as he yanks his band tee over his head. He almost does rip off your cami when he sees you have another layer to contend with, but ultimately you shimmy out of it without incident. When your breasts land heavy against your ribs, he’s quick to lean down and suck one into his mouth. He rocks into you now without rhythm as he sucks and licks at your tits, more interested in the weight and fullness of them in his mouth than nipple play.

While he plays with them, you reach your hand down to play with your clit as you rock your hips. You lose yourself in the feeling of Mary filling and sucking on you as you bring yourself closer to a second orgasm. He doesn’t seem to notice how close you are, so he’s surprised when you suddenly jerk away moaning and start clenching around his dick.

“You sneak!” he gasps out as your climax rhythmically squeezes him. He snarls at you as he once again grips you to him and starts to fuck up into you without mercy. Your tits are now squashed into his chest, and you moan—still a raw nerve from your orgasm—at the feeling of your hard nipples rubbing against him.

Mary’s forehead presses against your breastbone, and he’s making little noises of distress at his need to cum like 5 minutes ago. The angle isn’t quite right for him to get as much thrust as he wants, and he’s trying to make up for it in frequency—but that’s just tiring him out.

You start squeezing your muscles around him—him moaning each time—and you lean down to whisper praise into his ear as you wrap a hand around his throat.

“You’re doing so well. That’s my good boy. You’ve pleased me so much. Such a very good boy for me.”

You squeeze a little harder.

A few more shuddering thrusts, and he finally stiffens, breathing muffled cries of release into your chest as his climax washes over him. He’s panting, and you feel the throb of his cock as he spills into you.

“There you go. So good, Mary. So good.”

You stay like that until he recovers his senses and tilts his head to blink up owlishly at you.

“Fuck,” he says, and you grin, leaning down to peck his lips.

He flops down onto his back, and you gingerly—legs protesting the whole time—climb off him to wobble unsteadily on the floor. He looks over at you.

“No. Rest,” he says reaching an arm out to you. You take it, but use it to pull him up, which just results in him sliding off onto the floor. “Ugh, why,” he whines as you laugh at his tangle of limbs and soft dick flopping about.

“C’mon. Let’s take a shower and wash all the gross off before we fall asleep like old people. I don’t think my couch cushions can be flipped again.”

Mary groans, but starts the process of getting up off the floor.

“I’m really am gonna get you a plastic cover.”

“That’s a terrible idea. We’d slip right off!”

He grins at you. “Only if we were wearing clothes.”

The two of you are waiting for the Chinese food you ordered, bundled up in the afghan against the creeping chill while Mary flips through your channels and you idly go through Mary’s ancient camera. All the images seem to fall under 1 of 3 categories: dead/decaying things; run down buildings; & injuries … but there are a handful of sporadic pictures of just you—mundane things like you touching your nose to remember something, or asleep on the couch, and one of you frowning at the subway wait time. Thinking of your own “matching set”—so to speak—you look up at Mary; his hair is soft and flat, his face scrubbed clean. You lean in to swipe at Mary’s bare cheek, and his eyes sweep over to you.

“What? Did I not get it all?”

“No, you did—it’s just. I like this Mary. Like, Mean Skeleton Mary is hot, but this one is just for me.”

Mary grins wide, and you smile back—but then he laughs into your face, and you flinch away.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he gasps around his giggles.

“Ok, fuck you,” you say as you pull away from him and curl into yourself, crossing your arms.

“No! No no no!” he wheezes as he reaches for you. “C’mere, I’m sorry.”

“No,” you gripe as you squirm ineffectually to get out of his grasp. You fume in his embrace as he continues to chuckle.

“You’re a dick, Mary Goore.”

“I’m sorry, Suey,” he says as he swipes at his eyes. “It’s just—that’s the single most ‘mushy’ thing you’ve ever said to me that was legit. Is there a heart in there after all?”

Grumbling, you push at him with your feet to keep him away. “Don’t get used to it. It only beats occasionally.”

Still laughing, he swipes his camera from you, turning it to get you in its frame.

“I want to document this moment, so I have it for the record that your heart beat once.”

You make a mean lemon face at and give the middle finger to him as he snaps a few pictures of you.

“The day Suey’s heart grew 3 sizes.”

“I hope you know we’re in a fight right now.”

“Yeah, I know. Worth it, though.”

Later, when you’re prone and regretting all the noodles you’ve just consumed—and after you rubbed your food baby on Mary and demanded child support ( “How can it be mine? Look how big it is already! No dice, momma.”)—you watch as Mary picks up the fan art off the table to examine again.

“It is good,” he says. You murmur wordlessly in agreement. “But I’m still sorry you’re out there now.”

You wave it off. “It’s fine now that I know. It was just weird at first—like I had to keep constantly checking that my skirt wasn’t tucked into my tights or something. Now, I keep thinking about how I can’t just go out in my pjs anymore. Full makeup and full outfit for me, even if it’s just to the corner store!”

Mary snorts. “Why do you think I just started going everywhere as ‘Mean Skeleton Mary’?”

“I just assumed it was because you’re a pretentious fuckhead.”

“You’re a bitch.”

He jostles you meanly on purpose, and you grunt as your food sloshes uncomfortably in your stomach.

“I will vomit on you.”

He grins. “Neat.”

“Ugh—gross , Mary.”

⬅️Previous | Next ➡️

#haha posted this to drafts instead of my queue #mary goore #ofc #feral cats fic #gutter punk #gritty girls #my writing #original post #original content

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typicalmidnightsoul · 4 years

Text

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓒𝓻𝓸𝔀𝓷 𝓟𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓮𝓼𝓼- Chapter 7

𝔸 𝕘𝕒𝕞𝕖 𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖

love is not cruel, we are cruel, love is not a game we have made a game out of love.- Rupi Kaur

Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4 5, 6 <- here

In this chapter we have:The party, an introduction to Rask, an introduction to the first love in Nesta's life and a distraught Nesta seeking Azriel's help.

(Nesta’s dress down below)

The entire inner circle was waiting in the foyer. Caroline had sent Feyre a message saying the Queen of Rask had wanted them at the anniversary ceremony a few days earlier to give them a tour of Rask. Feyre had agreed. Now they were waiting for Audrey, Luna and Nesta to arrive. A crackling wind blew outside and Elain rushed to the window.

“They’re here!” She fizzed.

Before they could arrive at the door, Elain threw it open and trapped Nesta in an embrace. Luna and Audrey chuckled and Elain pulled them all inside.

Feyre greeted them with a warm smile.

“Hello.” They all nodded.

Luna waved a hand, and a group of same size boxes appeared on a nearby table. Rhys crossed the room and picked one up.

“What’s this?”

Audrey smiled, “In Rask it’s tradition to give a gift to the members of our alliance.”

“What are they?” Cassian asked snatching one of Rhys.

Luna smiled at Nesta.

“It’s a newer invention we have been working on,” She said, “We were inspired by the grief of many people from the war who have little to no proof their loved ones existed. Except of course memories.”

Elain opened one. It was a mirror. A small, rectangular one with an ornate frame and single jewel crested on top.

“This… captures memories. How… how is it even possible?”

Nesta jerked her chin to Luna.

“Luna’s power is vitrikinesis, also known as-”

“Mirror manipulation.” Amren finished.

Rhys gaped at them, “That sort of power is only known to belong to-”

“Celestial fae.” Nesta finished the three of them mock bowing.

Audrey chuckled at their faces, “I think you’ll find that there are many celestial fae in habiting Rask.”

“So the Cauldron made you a…celestial fae?” Elain asked.

“Well, technically I stole way too much power from it which landed me in a different breed of fae.”

Feyre managed to suppress her gasp. The cauldron had a wicked sense of humour. Placing Nesta in a place where there were many more people just like her.

“So how do the work?” she instead asked.

“This will be fun.” She dragged Feyre to a nearby mirror in the hallway. Feyre locked her gaze with Nesta in the mirror.

“In this mirror you see yourself, obviously, but it’s your mind’s eyes that form the opinion of whether you look beautiful, or tired, or- you get what I mean. So technically you are seeing yourself from your mind’s eyes.” She held up the rectangular mirror in Feyre’s hand. “Now this mirror is basically useless, it’s a… dummy if you will. But this”- she picked up the small gem crested on top-“Is where the magic happens. This gem contains a droplet of Luna’s power, which has been multiplied. You can throw this in any mirror and it would work as a communication device or as a mean to keepsake your memories.” She threw the sky blue gem in the mirror but instead of it breaking the mirror just… engulfed it. Ripples forming on the surface of the mirror.

“Put your hand in, let the mirror psychically connect to you.” Nesta ordered.

“Do I have to?”

“Yes, because until then it won’t work. The gem psychically connects to you so you can command it to do anything. Not anyone else.”

Feyre nodded and put her hand in the never ending ripples. There was a short sting then she pulled her hand out the gem now in her hand glowing.

“Now put it back in the mirror and think of a memory for the mirror to keep safe.”

Feyre closed her eyes and thought of the time when she first saw Nesta, striding down the stairs in that golden gown.

“My skin looks horrific.”

“No it does not,” Luna protested.

“It looks cakey.”

“That’s the lighting.” Feyre opened her eyes and saw the memory now playing on the mirror.

“You can also use it to communicate.”

Audrey pulled out her own rectangular mirror and brushed a hand over the gem. The mirror in front of Feyre went blurry. She could feel a whisper in her head. ‘Audrey Astor wishes to talk’

Feyre inwardly nodded, too shocked to say anything.

And Audrey’s face lit up the mirror.

Feyre gaped.

They all did.

“What are they called?” Azriel asked.

“Keepsakes.” Luna replied, giving Az a seductive smile.

Nesta shook her head muttering, “This girl,” under her breath.

They all did as instructed linking to their stones.

“Now, we take you to the most heavily warded city in our Kingdom, Marcia.”

“The capital?”

“Yes, but we will have to leave you there, I’m afraid. We have a close friend giving you the tour, taking care of your needs and showing you to your residence. Once we winnow you there you’ll have to knock for him.” Nesta glanced at the clock, “He is probably helping his mother in the kitchen now.”

They all nodded and with no warning Nesta winnowed them all to Rask. As the haze of gold mist cleared, Feyre with squinted eyes looked at the house in front of them. It was a small corner house with steps and greenery around it. It was labelled ’12.’ Feyre shrugged and climbed the steps to knock on the door.

“Mami! They’re here I need to go!”

“Wait you imbecile let me open the door, you find your shoes!”

The door opened to reveal a female wearing a thin dress and a bandanna. Feyre smiled.

“Hello my dear, welcome to Marcia.” She gave Feyre a hug then Elain. “You two do look so like the prince and princess. Please don’t let my son ruin my reputation, he does act really stupid sometimes.” The male in question pushed past his mother. He had dark brown hair and honey skin. He wore a fitted beige tunic and matching trousers.

“Welcome your majesties. I’m Warren. Your tour guide for the day.”

He shook all their hands. “Good to see you’re wearing practical clothing. We’ll be moving a lot.”

“Keep your pathetic charm to yourself and represent your city well.”

His mother shouted from the window.

“Yes Mami.” He rolled hi eyes and led them out of the alleyway.

They walked through the street.

Elain walked to Warren’s side, “Um, this is not the city we dined in.”

“Ah yes. Caro’s restaurant is in her territory this is the capital.”

Elain nodded.

“Lady Elain, where would you like to go first? The bazaar or the floating market?” Warren asked.

“Oh please it’s just Elain and um… the bazaar first please.”

“Of course,” He outstretched an arm towards a different alleyway.

Behind them Feyre was walking with Cassian.

“How do you feel about all this? You have been unusually quiet on this matter.”

Cassian dropped his head, “She’s happy. I want to see her happy but I...I’m delaying a conversation with her. I’m staying quiet because I’m afraid my presence will disrupt her happiness.”

Feyre shook her head, “I may not know Nesta as well as I thought I did but I do know that that is not the case.”

He smiled at her.

“Welcome to the Marcia Bazaar.”

The bazaar was thrumming with life, everyone wearing light, airy clothes due to the heat. There were so many colours. People were shouting, promoting their goods.

Feyre went past a shop with Elain where a male sat arranging his goods. There were wooden bowls strewn all over with different things. Rock salt, lapis lazuli, spices, cloves, cinnamon sticks, coal, small bowls.

He nodded at them, “Well, it seems the Night have come to stay.”

“How did you recognize us?” Elain asked.

“The similarities between you and the princess and prince are uncanny.” He smiled and handed them a bowl of white sweetmeat, “A gift.” Elain thanked him and they moved to the next shop.

This shop was being inspected by Rhys and Cassian.

It was a shop stacked with clothes of different materials, textures and colours. Each embroidery different.

The next shop was a confectioner’s shop. She also recognized them and handed them bowls and packages of different confectionery.

Other than that word had quickly spread that the Night Court were in town and now they were getting hoards of stuff for free.

As they left the bazaar, Warren laughed at the stuff they carried. With a flick of his wrist he made them all vanish.

“They’ll be at the villa.” He looked at his watch and tutted.

“What’s wrong?” Amren asked.

“Nesta asked for you to be at the villa before dawn and since I am in no mood to piss her off… fancy a jog?”

“A jog?” Elain asked, “Surely Nesta wouldn’t mind if we came tomorrow-”

He grabbed her hand and started jogging with her, “Nonsense, never leave a good thing unfinished that’s what my Mami says.”

Everyone started jogging to catch up with Elain.

“This is ridiculous!” Cassian said to Rhys, “We have wings.”

“If you flew, everyone would stare.” Warren shouted out.

He stopped and let go of Elain’s hand. Elain’s cheeks were tinged with pink, a grin on her face which turned to a gasp as she beheld what was in front of her.

There was a swarm of boats, some had goods some were buying goods of said boats and piling it onto their own. Warren hired two boats from a nearby male.

“Ladies on the front boat and males on the back one”

Warren climbed into the front boat.

Cassian raised a brow, “You class as a male.”

“True but my Mami raised a gentlemale and a gentlemale would not let ladies row a boat.”

Feyre snorted climbing in.

“Would any of you like to buy anything?” He asked.

“No, I would rather observe,” Elain said.

“Well that’s good because I am rowing us to our next destination.”

“Where’s that?” Amren asked.

“The Twilight streets. These are where all the making of things happens like, the bangles, jewellery, the dresses, the prayers are held there, the colours are made there, the flowers are gathered and nurtured there.”

He caught the glimmer in Elain’s eyes and said, “The Thousand Gardens are there and the keepers work all throughout the year. This is different from the bazaar as you can see the work being done in front of you, you could sit there for days and no one would say a thing.”

He reeled the boats in to the dock and helped the females off. He checked his watch again and bursts into a run.

“Keep up!”

They rolled their eyes and followed.

He led them through to a secluded road, to the villa. He stretched an arm.

“Welcome now hurry to the roof. Quick.” They did as they were told. And on the roof the most beautiful sight of the Marcia city greeted them, there were rugs and blanket spread out with food and drinks.

And then…

Hot air balloons started lifting into the air. Different coloured ones that were just beautiful next to the setting sun.

They all stared.

“Nesta wanted you to see this, this villa is hers and she thought you’d get the best view form here.”

Feyre turned, “Thank you Warren.”

He waved her off, “Don’t sweat, I’ll see you at the anniversary.”

He left whistling all the way home.

------

The engagement party.

The inner circle had worn traditional Rask clothes sent by Leona. They stepped through the crowd of brightly clothed males and females. Caroline had walked over to them, Jonah behind her.

“I am so glad you could make it.” The tinkling sound of anklets snapped away her attention. Feyer saw Cassian’s awed expression before she saw her exquisite older sister. Nesta was dressed in a red matching bodice and embroidered skirt. She had an oversized nose ring that had dropping gold pieces. Her whole midriff was showing the bodice. They all started praising her and the chatter did seem to be taking place, mostly between Az, Feyre and Elain. Cassian turned to Nesta. Jonah stiffened.

“You look stunning Nesta,” The words were quiet and full of sincerity.

“Thank you,” She said not meeting his eyes. She turned back to Caroline, Cassian staring at her for a second more before turning to Azriel.

Warren had come over and had asked Elain to pass on a tray of scented rose petals to Nesta. Nesta was flitting about the hall fixing decorations checking the food, and attending to guests.

The dais where Jonah and Caro would sit was hidden from sights with a curtain, Nesta and the others going in and out fixing things.

She had come to Elain in search for the petals, as she thanked Elain for holding onto them. Caro dropped her wine glass.

Her eyes fixed on a sight in the distance.

Nesta didn’t seem to notice.

“Clumsy,” She smiled at her and went to take the platter off Elain. She turned back.

And dropped the platter.

The rose petals scattered across the floor. The followed her line of sight. A male stood there his breathing ragged, his clothes torn as if he’d crawled his way out of hell.

His eyes were locked onto Nesta’s.

“Tyrus?” Nesta whispered softly.

Nesta picked her skirt up and ran. Everyone parting like the red sea for her. She stopped in front of him, tears slipping out of her eyes.

She let out a sob and wrapped her arms around him.

He did the same. Audrey broke into a run, Leona pushing past everyone, Luna outright winnowing to them, they all seemed scared. Caroline reached their first and flung her arms out stopping them 3 meters away.

Jonah growled at his mate. She gave him a stern look.

“You recognized me.” Tyrus said.

Nesta pushed him examining his face, “Of course Ty I’d recognize your shadow if it crossed me.”

“Enough, Nesta.” She looked up, “I need you to hide me.”

“Hide you? From who?”

“Nesta please-”

“I had a feeling you’d come here brother,” A voice said.

Nesta turned, guarding Tyrus with her body. Then softened.

“Oh God, Torin! You’re here too!”

Torin with short golden hair and sleek silver armour looked at Nesta.

He looked so different to Tyrus, who had black short hair, and dark gold armour tinted with emerald.

“Nesta get away from him.”

“Why? You…He’s hiding from you?” Nesta was baffled.

“Tyrus you bastard, you’re going to play with her emotions and not even tell her why.”

She turned to him.

“What is he talking about?”

Tyrus stayed silent.

“TELL HER!” Torin shouted.

A muscle flickered in his jaw, “I did what was right.”

“YOU BETRAYED YOUR PEOPLE.” Torin roared.

“What?” Nesta’s voice was broken.

“I did what was best.”

“By betraying your people and trying to remove father and kill me?” Torin laughed cruelly.

“Did you do that Ty?” Nesta asked her face turning cold “Did you?”

He nodded, “But there are so many other factors that play into this.”

“Any factors that explain why you would kill the male who raised you?”

He stayed silent.

“Torin, take him. I have nothing to say to him.” Torin did so and said to Nesta, “I’ll be in touch.”

She didn’t answer.

They left Nesta went to the kitchen, Feyre, Audrey, Luna, Elain, Cassian and Az followed.

“Who was that Nesta?” Elain asked.

Nesta didn’t answer. Silent tears falling down her face.

“Who was it?” Feyre asked.

“Nesta.” Azriel took a step towards her.

“That was my first love. That was my childhood love. The male that left me crying on the steps of my father’s mansion. The male who left because I was human. He promised me he wouldn’t leave and he did. And I just sold him out.”

She winnowed away.

--------

A week later, Illyria.

Azriel had just finished up a meeting his hand was throbbing from pointing out the rebel camps to Cassian’s camp leaders. They all filed out of the tent, Azriel following. They all stopped. He pushed past them and saw Nesta Archeron standing in front of the tent. Her eyes seemed to be red from crying. He glared at them all and they left.

“I needed someone to talk to. And I didn’t know where else to go.”

He stilled, considering. Then nodded.

They looked out onto the mountains in a cabin. Azriel finally turned to her, “What’s on your mind?”

“How do you think he feels?” She asked almost immediately, “Do you think he feels betrayed or sad or upset he probably didn’t want me to sell him out, he trusted me and I betrayed it what-what will I do-”

He put his hands on her shoulders, “Calm. Down. Take a deep breath. This is not for you to feel. He is not the man you once loved.”

“That’s the thing though; I don’t know what I’m feeling. I don’t know if I still love him or not.”

“Tell me what you think you’re feeling.”

“Well,” she started, “I hate that I fell in love with my best friend. That maybe my idea of love is fake. Because he was my best friends and he didn’t want me and left and then I couldn’t even talk to him. I miss our bond. I miss talking to him.”

“It seems to me like you miss your best friend.”

“I don’t know.” She whispered.

“What do you miss about him?”

“We were young when he gave me flowers as bookmarks,” she chuckled, “He read me passages from books. He would dance with me. We would pick berries in the garden together, he would make me flower crowns and unlike other men he didn’t demean me for being a woman.”

“And then what happened?”

The smile died, “We grew up. Well he did. He knew he was other. And I was a weak human. He said loving me would be destruction and he couldn’t allow that.”

Az waited a few minutes before saying, “You love him. But not like you used too. You were young, you fell in love. But now you need the boy you talked to, your friend. Not your first love.”

She considered, and then nodded.

“Cassian’s coming” Az announced, “You should talk to him.”

“There a lot of males I need to talk too. One step at a time.”

She winnowed away.

-------

The kingdom of Natava Prison.

Tyrus bounced a ball against the wall, standing in his finery.

“Ty.”

He turned, “Hey Nes.”

She smiled. “How’d you get in?”

“Your mother gave me full permission to come and go as I please.”

He chuckled, “She always loved you.”

“Are you upset?”

He looked at her, “The guilt is eating at you isn’t it? Well I’ll consider that a sufficient punishment. Don’t sweat, I understand, and to be honest, I don’t really care.”

She eyed him, “Drop the act.”

The glamour faded bit by bit, leaving a ragged Tyrus against the wall.

“You always found out.”

“Tyrus I am so sorry.”

“No need. It is not your fault, Torin found me if you did protect me you would die. I am much better now you are here.”

She took a shuddering breath, “I want you back. I want my best friend.”

He gazed distantly, “Your best friend was also your first love.”

“I think I can l live with was.”

He laughed, “Me too.”

“I need to go, but I promise I will get you out of here.”

“Don’t. Just tell me one thing. You love him don’t you? The winged male with long hair. Don’t you?”

She turned, “Read me.”

Because that’s what they did since they were kids. They read each other.

He examined her, “I might’ve been your first love but he will be your last.” He closed his eyes.

She winnowed away.

Tags:@mis-lil-red @wannawriteyouabook @my-fan-side

#nesta #nessian fanfic #cassian #nesta archeron #feyre #rhys #elain #azriel #mor #amren #acotar #prythian #acomaf #acowar #original character

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camillemontespan · 4 years

Text

delicious [drake walker x camille]

As part of my ‘Have Your Cake & Eat It’ giveaway for reaching 400 followers, here is the first fic I’ve written, as prompted by @samihatuli who asked for ‘kinky Cake smut’ (Drake x Camille = Cake).

Well, I have written this prompt both figuratively and literally. I genuinely think my smut writing needs more work but I like a writing challenge!

The giveaway is for everyone - if you would like me to write a fic, please send me an ask and I will do it. There are no winners being drawn because I’m planning to write every fic I am asked to do! :)

Warnings: NSFW.

@moonlightgem7 @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @jovialyouthmusic @ibldw-main @burnsoslow @sirbeepsalot @dcbbw @mskaneko @pedudley @msjr0119 @gardeningourmet @kingliam2019 @tacohead13 @rainbowsinthestorm @katedrakeohd @emichelle @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @loveellamae

*********************************************************************************

Drake was relieved to drive up to the manor after a long, mindnumbing day of meetings. Even though he didn’t really care, today was not the day he would have chosen to have these meetings. It had been a challenge. For one thing, Leo had kept throwing spit balls at Liam until his younger brother lost patience.

Royalty, ladies and gentlemen.

Today was Drake’s birthday. He was now 32 years old.

Drake didn’t like birthdays. He found them an ordeal and he hated being the centre of attention. He didn’t even care for presents, though Liam would always buy him a bottle of whiskey. Drake just wanted the day to be over with.

That said, he had only had one birthday that was truly memorable. It was when he had turned 28 and Camille had coyly presented him with a beautifully wrapped, squashy present. She had watched with a smile tugging at her lips and he could tell she was desperate to tell him what it was. When Drake opened the present, he found a babygro in his hands. A yellow babygro with an embroidered marshmallow on the pocket.

‘What’s this?’ he had asked, his voice croaking, his face showing his disbelief.

‘You’re gonna be a daddy, Drake,’ Camille whispered, tears glimmering in her brown eyes. ‘Happy birthday.’

Now, their daughter Lily was four years old. Drake hadn’t received a present as thoughtful and beautiful as the babygro, though Camille always tried. Whiskey tastings, camping trips, concert tickets… Camille had tried to buy him amazing presents and although Drake appreciated it, he just didn’t want a fuss made over his birthday. To him, it was just a day, nothing more.

He entered the manor, calling out, ‘I’m home!’

Usually, Lily would come running to greet him but he was greeted with nothing. No energetic, bouncy four year old screaming his name. No Camille coming forward to give him a kiss. No corgis racing around his feet demanding attention.

Drake shrugged and padded through to the kitchen. As he got closer, he could hear music coming from the other side of the door. He pushed the door open to find Camille standing at the kitchen island singing along to 90s pop music, with a bowl in front of her as she stirred the chocolate cake mixture inside it. A dot of flour covered the tip of her nose.

As she sang along to Backstreet Boys, she sipped from a glass of white wine, clearly having the time of her life. She looked up to see him watching her by the door and her eyes lit up.

‘Hey baby!’ she called out, giving him a happy grin.

Drake smiled and leaned over the island to kiss her, before gently wiping the flour from her nose. ‘Hey beautiful,’ he said. ‘Where’s Lily?’

‘She’s at Milo’s,’ Camille told him. ‘Sleepover.’

‘Great..’

Camille fixed Drake with a steady stare. ‘Drake, they’re four. Just because he is a boy doesn’t mean he’s going to suddenly jump on her.’

Drake shuddered. ‘Please don’t talk about that sort of thing..’

Camille stuck her tongue out at him and turned to move to the cupboard behind her. Drake watched her briefly then put down his bag before his attention fully went back to Camille as he realised what he was looking at.

Camille was wearing an apron but nothing underneath it.

All he could see was her bare back and perky ass peeking out from the polka dot apron.

‘Camille..’ he said, his voice low. ‘Are you naked under your apron?’

Camille turned and leaned against the counter, crossing her arms. ‘Maybe..’

Drake moved towards her, his eyes still fixed on her. ‘W..Why?’

Camille smiled like she had a delicious secret. ‘Happy birthday, Drake,’ she whispered. ‘I’m baking you a cake.’

‘Naked?’ Drake asked, raising an eyebrow. ‘Just let me clarify this.. You’re baking me a cake… naked.’

‘Yes.’

‘And Lily’s at a sleepover, you say?’

‘All night, last I checked.’

‘So we’re alone?’

‘Yes.’

Drake was over to her in an instant. He caught at her and pulled her against him, their chests flush against each other. Their mouths crashed together. Drake could taste wine and chocolate on her tongue.

‘You taste delicious..’ he groaned.

Camille smirked and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in closer. Drake’s fingers raked through her hair, pulling it out of the messy bun so it cascaded down her shoulders. His hands skimmed down her hips to cup her ass.

‘I like this look..’ he whispered.

‘I’ll do it more often,’ she murmured, tugging at his lower lip with her teeth. Drake moaned her name and brought his hands lower so he could lift her onto the kitchen counter. He quickly pushed away the bowl that had cake mix in it and his lips found hers again, desperate for her. Camille’s fingers pulled at his shirt, unbuttoning it quickly so she could touch his skin. Drake let out a hiss as he felt her warm fingers that were covered with flour decorating his chest.

Drake’s hands rushed up the inside of her thighs towards the heat between her legs.

‘Do you wanna move somewhere less.. cakey?’ Camille whispered, interrupting his journey.

Drake smirked the smirk she loved so much. ‘You afraid to get more flour on yourself, Camille?’ he asked.

Camille’s eyes darkened. Her legs pulled him in closer to her so they were pressed right up against each other. She raised her chin so her lips brushed his ear, tantalisingly close.

‘Fuck me, Drake,’ she breathed, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

Drake closed his eyes, swallowing hard. ‘I fucking love birthdays,’ he growled.

He rapidly unbuckled his belt and jeans, discarding them to the floor. Camille pulled his shirt off him now, the shirt that had been unbuttoned, so he was now completely naked. Camille’s eyes darted over his body, taking in his broad shoulders and muscular arms, before looking down at his hard cock.

She reached out for him but Drake caught her by the wrists, keeping her in place. ‘I’ve got an idea,’ he said. Raising an eyebrow, Camille watched him silently as Drake untied her apron, exposing her naked form. She smiled as Drake leaned down to press a soft kiss on her shoulder, his lips trailing like lit dynamite down to her collarbone. As he kissed her sensually, his hands took hold of the apron tie.

Camille let out a breath as she felt him wrap the apron tie around her wrists, binding them together. She tested them by trying to move her hands but to no avail; the gleeful smile on her face told him everything he needed to know. Drake smirked and knelt down so he was now eye level with the space between her legs.

She cried out when she felt his tongue slip between her folds, lapping deep. Her legs shook as she focused on what he was doing to her, feeling her stomach flip as he twisted and tasted. Her feet banged against the cupboards beneath her as her body began to jerk at the new sensation.

‘I could eat you all fucking day,’ he growled against her. Camille closed her eyes and let her head fall back as she concentrated on his tongue. She could feel the fire building inside her and he hadn’t even properly begun yet.

He lapped at her. His tongue teased her, pulling her into a swirling vortex, but deliberately not pulling her far enough so she would lose control.

Drake liked to take his time. He liked to savour her and enjoy every single taste. But Camille was impatient and wanted him now. She ached to touch him but the tie around her wrists prevented her from doing so and god, she needed him.

‘Fuck me,’ she groaned. ‘Please.’

‘But you taste so good-’

‘I can guarantee I feel fucking good,’ she interrupted, ‘so please, fuck me. Fuck me now.’

Drake chuckled and stood up. Their eyes met and Drake could see the determination in her eyes.

‘You want this?’ he asked, reaching down to wrap his hand around his erection. Camille watched his hand pumping slowly, biting her lip. Noting her reaction, Drake began to work himself harder. His breath came out in heavy pants as his hand moved more rapidly. He could see a bead of pre-cum forming at the head; his finger scooped the liquid up and he held out his finger for Camille.

She leaned close to wrap her lips around his finger. Her tongue licked the liquid and swallowed. Drake groaned her name and continued to jerk himself off.

‘You’re such a fucking tease, Walker,’ Camille croaked.

‘You like watching me though.’

Camille couldn’t deny it. But..

‘I want you inside me,’ she told him. ‘Put me out of my misery. Look, I was baking you a cake! I was celebrating your birthday! I was naked under my apron! I was being the best wife ever and you’re taunting me with your huge - FUCK!’

Drake plunged into her.

Camille bit hard into his shoulder as she felt the impact of him fill her. Drake pulled her closer so he could fill her completely. His hips rocked rapidly against hers as he drove into her, while his hands covered her bound wrists.

‘You feel fucking good, Camille,’ he groaned in her ear, his breath hitching.

‘You’re so big, Drake,’ she panted. ‘Oh god-’

Drake buried his face in her neck. He inhaled her Chanel perfume, savouring everything he could of his wife. As he kissed her neck, he could feel Camille’s hands moving and without pausing his kisses, he reached out to wrap his hand around hers, preventing her from releasing herself.

‘Not yet baby,’ he murmured.

‘I want to touch you so badly..’ she whispered.

Drake moved back to look her in the face. ‘Do you like being tied up?’

‘I do.’

‘But you really want to touch me?’

‘Very much. All over.’

Drake laughed and gave her a lazy smile. ‘Fine. Because I’m feeling generous.’

He untied her wrists so she was now free. He moved to kiss her but stopped he felt her hands wrap around his wrists. Leaning back to study her face, their eyes locked and he felt the apron tie tighten around his wrists, binding him.

‘Well, well..’ he whispered.

Camille smirked. ‘Two can play at that game, Mr Walker.’

Drake grinned and leaned down to kissed her deeply, unable to touch his wife but enjoying every other sensation. Camille jumped down from the counter and turned to push him onto the space where she had been sitting. Now she was the one in control.

She got up on the counter to straddle him and slowly eased herself down onto his cock, feeling him slide easily inside her again. Drake groaned and closed his eyes as he focused on how she felt around him. He focused on this moment.

He could feel the apron tie digging into his skin.

He could hear Camille calling out his name.

He could smell the delicious scent of chocolate.

#drake walker #trr fanfic #drake walker x mc

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marriedthedark · 5 years

Text

Ladybug Week: Day 8 - Free Day

A/N: Wasn’t able to contribute for days 6 and 7 unfortunately, but I had a lot of fun with this shipping week nonetheless. I saw this stupid AU that was all “imagine your otp pretending to be engaged for two hours to get free wedding cake samples” and then this happened.

Modern AU, 1.4k words

“I can’t believe you made me agree to this.”

Ruby led her girlfriend down the busy street by her arm, a cheeky grin plastered across her face.

“You’ll thank me once you get a mouthful of delicious cakey goodness!”

“We could’ve just gone inside and ordered like normal people.”

“But this is way more fun! And free. Besides, I declare the both of us enjoy some free cake together!"

Blake felt the corner of her mouth turn up in a small smirk in spite of herself. She couldn’t remember having done anything this objectively silly before, and yet a small part of her was undeniably excited for what this outing could hold for her and Ruby.

“With what authority do you make this declaration exactly?”

”My authority as your girlfriend!” Ruby stated with glee. She finished her teasing with a quick sticking out of her tongue.

Soon the pair arrived at Black Flower Cake Shoppe in downtown Vale. Before entering, Ruby immediately locked arms with Blake, prompting the other girl to stare at her questioningly.

“We gotta make it convincing. Our cover story is you proposed to me by a waterfall outside the city. Oh and we’ve been together for three years now with our pet cat Tulip.”

“Ruby, we don’t even have rings-“

Blake’s observation was cut short by Ruby planting a simple silver ring on her left ring finger.

“I came prepped,” she said proudly.

Blake raised a brow as she examined the ring sitting on her finger. Her inkling was confirmed as she noticed the matching ring displayed on Ruby’s hand.

“You stole these from Yang didn’t you?”

“Shhhhhh she doesn’t have to know,” Ruby pouted in annoyance. Sometimes Blake was too observant for her own good.

Blake hid a giggle behind her free hand.

“Don’t worry, I won’t say a word to Yang,” she assured her.

Satisfied with Blake’s promise, the duo finally entered the bake shop. Blake inhaled deeply as the scent of sugar and fresh pastries filled her nostrils; the prospect of free cake suddenly sounded all the more appealing.

Once at the counter, Ruby prepared to ask the lady at the register about free samples. Much to her surprise however, Blake ended up speaking first.

“Hi, I know this may seem a bit abrupt but my lovely fiancé here just couldn’t wait,” she shot Ruby a playful, pointed look as she spoke. “Would it be possible for us to sample wedding cake flavors today?”

Put off by her girlfriend’s unexpected dedication to her role, Ruby felt her mouth open and close hopelessly as she desperately tried finding words to defend herself. She didn’t get a chance however, as the woman behind the counter smiled warmly at them.

“Of course! It shouldn’t be a problem at all. If you have a seat at one of those tables I’ll have someone bring out some of our best flavors.”

Blake smiled in return as she thanked the woman. Ruby meanwhile pouted all the way towards the back of the bakery where they seated themselves at one of the tables they had been directed to.

“What happened to my cover story and everything?” she harshly whispered to Blake once they were out of earshot.

Blake shrugged innocently. “We didn’t need it,” she said simply followed by a mischievous wink.

Ruby stuck her tongue out at Blake again. Despite the early embarrassment, she couldn’t help but feel giddy over Blake taking initiative with her “plan.”

After a few minutes had gone by, another woman arrived at their table with a large tray in hand. After placing it on the table, Ruby fought to contain her excitement at the various slices displayed before them.

”Our signature flavor is our lemon summer berry which is a simple vanilla cake filled with our homemade lemon mousse and fresh raspberries, over here we have our classic red velvet with cream cheese frosting…

The women’s voice faded to the background as Blake observed Ruby in amusement. Her large, silver eyes clearly hung on to every word that came out of the baker’s mouth as she pointed to and explained each of the slices.

Blake was snapped out of her pleasant observation session when she felt her ankle kicked under the table.

”How did you two lovebirds meet?” the woman asked. Judging by Ruby’s kick, this was likely a repeated question.

”Oh! We met in college actually. We had a literature class together and we-“

”Actually it was an art class,” Ruby interjected. Blake couldn’t conceal her look of confusion as she stared at her girlfriend across the table, a smug look on her face.

”How could you forget how we met?” Ruby continued in mock offense. Blake felt her cheeks beginning to burn as she again became aware of the woman continuing to watch the exchange.

The woman laughed. “Well I’ll leave you two to sort that out. Let me know if you have any questions or would like to arrange a formal consolation.”

With that, Ruby and Blake were left alone with four small slices of cake between them. Blake narrowed her eyes suspiciously as Ruby snickered.

“You deliberately tried to embarrass me,” she stated to her girlfriend.

”Only because you embarrassed me first!” Ruby cried out in defense. She quickly covered her mouth after noticing several people had turned their head to see who was talking so loudly.

Clearly, you don’t need me to embarrass you,” Blake coolly observed as she bought a forkful of cookies and cream cake to her mouth.

Ruby scowled before working on a slice of blackberry lavender cake. Even with her girlfriend’s quips, she couldn’t help but lighten up once the delicious taste of dessert filled her mouth.

”Here, since we’re clearly already bickering like a married couple, let’s try eating like one too,” Blake laughed as she offered Ruby a fork topped with red velvet. Ruby pursed her lips in a playful pout before allowing Blake to feed her the tasty bite.

“Mmm red velvet is always good,” Ruby hummed happily. She then took a piece of the lemon summer berry and held it over the table.

“Your turn,” she grinned.

Blake playfully rolled her eyes as she leaned forward to accept Ruby’s forkful of cake. She bought her hand to her mouth as she felt several crumbs threaten to fall.

“Oh that one is the best easily,” Blake said while pointing to the cake Ruby had just fed her. “Though if I had to guess, you’d probably want the cookies and cream.”

“How did you know?”

Blake smirked in satisfaction as Ruby finished off the slice she had just mentioned.

“Call it a hunch.”

After several more minutes of sharing and deliberating, all four pieces of cake had been consumed. Blake quickly surveyed the bakery to find that they were the only customers inside.

”I guess we can just leave. The tastings are supposed to be free-“

”I say on three we make a break for it,” Ruby cut her off, her eyes glued to the door.

”Ruby, I don’t think we have to-"

”Three!” She shouted in a whisper before grabbing Blake’s arm and making a beeline to the door. Against her better judgment, Blake allowed herself to hastily follow Ruby out the door and down the street from which they came.

Ruby started to laugh once the pair was a safe distance from the bakery. Blake tried to glare at her goofy girlfriend only to find herself laughing alongside her.

”You are an absolutely terrible influence on me,” Blake lightly admonished Ruby as they continued back to the car.

"Don’t act like you didn’t just have the best time ever,” Ruby said lightheartedly as she skipped ahead, still holding on to Blake’s hand.

"Oh, I’m not denying,” Blake said thoughtfully. “I was just going to mention that, since we’re already out, there’s another bakery across town that also does free wedding cake sampling.”

Ruby’s skipping halted as she turned around.

”Blake Belladonna, suggesting we go do the same fun and dumb thing we just did again? I’m in!” Ruby quickly closed the distance between them as she threw herself around Blake in a great bear hug.

Blake smiled as she returned Ruby’s embrace.

"Actually, if we’re going to continue this scheme you started, it’ll soon be Blake Belladonna-Rose to you,” she laughed before bringing their lips together in a sweet kiss.

#rwby #ladybugweek2k19 #rwby ladybug #blake belladonna #ruby rose #my writing #ladybug

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ivadeshin · 5 years

Text

Poppy Seeds (final chapter)

(1 and 2 are here. 3 and 3.5 are here. spoilers for 1/24′s episode, s2ep49)

"It's got crunch," Nott reports around a mouthful of cauliflower. Everyone else is using forks to stab or scoot the florets, but Nott just leans forward and grabs another one in her hand. "S'good! C'l'b, you fough' har', you sh' ea'."

Fjord laughs. "Yeah, what she said," he agrees teasingly.

Nott narrows her eyes at the half-orc but says nothing.

"It looks great," Caleb says a little too loudly, moving his chipped dinner plate to the bowl and using his fork to ease two florets over. The first bite is good, easy on what is still a very anxious digestive system, and after a few more chews he decides to try dunking it in the beef stew. Even better. He makes a meaningful face at Nott, encouraging her to try, and everyone at the table checks to make sure Caduceus is still in the kitchen before trying as well.

"It's also good as it is," Yasha adds. Everyone nods dutifully.

"Berm! Swales!" the cook in the corner shouts. Two famers look over from the table. "This is yours, right?" He's holding up a piece of cauliflower.

"Aye," either Berm or Swales agrees.

"I don't know what that cow man did to your broccoli, but it tastes damn fine, huh?"

Either Berm or Swales exchanges a glance with either Swales or Berm, and they seem to mutually decide not to correct him.

"I can smell dessert," Beau says conspiratorially. She's leaning back in her chair with one arm drawn back, peering toward the hall to the kitchen.

"I don't smell anything," Fjord says.

"Your nostrils probably got damaged from all the seawater," Nott suggests helpfully.

Caleb laughs. "Paint us a picture, Beau."

"Cakey something. Muffins? Definitely not chocolate." Beau breathes in deeply.

"S'good." When Yasha leans back in her chair as well trying to get a bit closer and get the scent, Beau's cheeks darken a touch and she goes still. Caleb wonders if something will ever come of that.

"It's nice," Yasha agrees, then lifts her eyebrows. "Okay, now it's... garlic."

"Garlic dessert," Caleb says, unable to hide his suspicion.

"No, no, they must've just opened an oven." Beau looks to her space at the table, and seems to realize there isn't much space for an oncoming dish. She very quickly starts a trend by picking up her stew bowl and drinking down what's left of it so they can begin stacking the empties. "Fuck that's greasy."

"Kind of a nice counterpoint to the Firbolg Food," Nott says. She's dragging her last cauliflower floret around the edges of her bowl, coating it in brown broth before stuffing it into her mouth.

"GREEN BEANS!" Jester shouts, doing her best serving wench impression as she reemerges with the serving platter. The cook seems far more at home with this dish as it's set in front of him, and the merchant and farmer table both nod gratefully as the tiefling comes by and drops off their portions.

"Thank you," Fjord says pointedly, smiling as Jester comes by with their extra-big bowl. Jester tosses her hair out of her face, making an absentminded grunt of acknowledgement before disappearing quickly back into the kitchen. Caleb watches Fjord's expression fall a little - he strikes Caleb as someone who wants a little more response but doesn't know how to reach out further himself. Caleb can't judge. He's in no position to judge anyone.

"This is the garlic," Beau says approvingly, tilting the bowl in one direction so Nott, Yasha, and Caleb can start getting portions onto their plates. Caleb then tilts the bowl the other way for Beau and Fjord. "Fuck this smells good."

Caleb looks down at his plate and realizes he has covered nearly half of it. He wonders if he can finish all this.

"Berm!" The cook shouts across the room. "Swales!"

"Ours," Berm and Swales confirm in unison.

"Delectable!" The cook hits the table with his fist and the merchant table follows suit in agreement. The Nein laugh and do so as well, if a little less in sync.

"Scooch," Jester says, having suddenly reappeared amidst all the noise. She looks a little put out, and Caleb is pleased to see that Fjord actually jumps out of his chair to scoot it to one side and fit another one in beside it.

"You get kicked out too?" Fjord hazards, settling back into his seat and watching until she's sitting too to begin eating again.

"He's finishing the dessert, I don't know why he's being so secretive all of a sudden." She's pouting a little, but it's extremely mollified by the two bowls tipped her way so she can start tucking in.

"You both went in there with secret plans and secret ingredients," Nott points out mildly. "And kicked the actual employee out of there."

"Kick me out anytime," the cook roars heartily from across the room, around a mouthful of beans. Caleb is no longer unsure about whether this man came in to work drunk today or not.

"Well, anyway." Jester spears a smaller floret and then a bean that she bends in half, making a neat little bite on her fork. She admires it a moment before eating. Beau grins as she takes another pull of ale.

"We will need another seat," Caleb says after they've had a few moments of comfortable silence, and gets up from his emptied (!) plate to pull another chair between himself and Yasha. "Is there enough of the-"

"We made sure," Beau confirms, and tilts the remainders of the vegetarian bowls onto a plate Yasha grabs from another table. Once it's arranged and the empties are again stacked, Fjord sits up straight and lets out a long, extremely pleased burp that causes Beau to laugh ale up her nose.

"That was very good," Yasha says with complete earnestness.

"Perhaps a breath weapon," Caleb adds, causing Jester to laugh.

"It's a new attack I'm workin' on." Fjord puts on a faux-mysterious look. "Except, it doesn't work if everyone else has had this much garlic as well..."

"Immunity," Nott supplies. She's smiling.

"There it is again," Beau mutters. She's leaning back in her chair again, eyes narrowed. "Maybe we're getting a waft every time he checks the oven?"

"Maybe," Yasha agrees. "Hmm... oh, yes. I definitely smell it."

There's a growing silence at the table as they all join in, breathing deeply, but it's not easy with the remaining haze of garlic and spices from their plates and their breaths. It takes Caleb several times, and then it's immediate - a faraway kitchen, an oval blue plate with a faded flower design around the rim, a very small hand using a fork to cut carefully against the clean white dish -

"-don't think he can hear us," Beau says with a worried edge to her voice, and Caleb turns to see what the problem is. Beau's expression relaxes. "Oh, there he is."

"What?" He says, looking around the table. Several of them are looking at him.

"You were gone for a few seconds there," Nott says, leaning forward a bit. "Are you feeling alright? If you want to go upstairs and rest, we could bring you -"

"Nein, no, it is fine." Caleb quirks his mouth, trying to sort out the vision in his mind with the faint warm smell of baking. "I think I might have had this."

Jester's lips are pressed very tightly together, holding back - laughter? No, a smile, some secretive smile that she doesn't want Caleb to see. He's about to ask her about it when a tall, familiar silhouette appears in the doorway, carrying a repurposed basting tin with a loaf of something in the middle.

“Mohnkuchen,” Caduceus says, with care in every syllable. Caleb stares at the warm yellow cake, freckled with tiny seeds. The Nein make a variety of reactions: surprise, excitement, as Caduceus pulls a blunt knife from his apron and begins to cut it into small sections, making a point to put them on everyone’s plate one by one.

“Wie hast - how did you-” Caleb stares from the slices to Caduceus, then turns to Jester, who is giggling delightedly as if she just pulled off the best prank in the world.

“It was a group effort,” Caduceus answers with a slow grin. When he lays a slice onto Jester’s plate, he roots around in his apron pocket again, pulling out a slightly crushed but very pretty flower that he presses into the top. Jester’s cheeks turn lavender. “I hope it looks right. Apparently it’s pretty common for recipes to have a lot of variations, even if they are written down somewhere...”

“This is a Zemnian thing?” Nott says around a mouthful.

“He called it a moon cookie,” Fjord reminds her.

“No, moon coo-coo, like, a crazy moon.” Beau holds her forkful up to the lantern. “This is super fluffy, dude.”

“Thank you.” Caduceus beams. When he slices the last two for himself and Caleb, he straightens up and gestures something to the cook, who hops onto his feet with surprising speed and disappears into the back - presumably there are other cakes for the other tables.

Indeed, Caleb takes the opportunity to focus on something other than himself and waits until the cook reappears, holding two ancient basting pans awkwardly and peering into them as soon as they’re successfully set down on his little table. A merchant has actually gotten out of his chair to come and collect their dish, saying something to the cook, who then carries a dish over to the farmers’ table.

“Not ours,” either Berm or Swales says.

“Must be the grey man’s,” either Swales or Berm adds. “Poppy seeds. Looks lovely.”

“Thank you,” Caduceus says again, but even as he lowers himself down into the slightly too-small chair next to Caleb, he’s still examining the human’s face, his plate, waiting for what must be the true confirmation of authenticity. Caleb straightens and picks up his fork, cleaning it on his napkin before cutting into the little slice with the edge, finding himself smiling at how light Caduceus managed to get it.

“It looks beautiful,” Caleb says earnestly. As the tiniest bit of steam escapes from the center of the fresh bake, he scoops it up with his fork and laughs at the smell. Like his mother’s kitchen, on birthdays and holidays. After the harvest. When he was barely tall enough to reach the high cupboards, needing a stepstool to help her get the ingredients lined up.

Caleb takes a bite - it’s exactly right. He holds it in his mouth a moment, reflecting before chewing, eating the entirety of the slice in continued silence as the others chat and compliment around him. Yasha is saying something about the green beans, now. Nott is describing how the cauliflower sopped up the rest of other foods. One of the farmers has come over and given the enormous gray man a hearty thank-you pat on his shoulder, a few crumbs around his mouth.

Caleb stays in his own little bubble until he’s done. He can feel a familiar warmth in his stomach, the smell of the cake having mingled with everything else in the tavern in a strange harmony.

When he puts his fork down, Caduceus leans down a little, getting to his eye level and lowering his voice.

“Was it, how do you say it in your area... lecker?”

Delicious. “Yes.” Caleb was temporarily transported, but now that he’s coming back to himself, he doesn’t feel quite the level of pressured anxiety he normally does. “Thank you. I do not know why you did that for me.”

“Because it might make you happy,” Jester pipes in. She seems to understand the flicker on his expression, because she adds, “Not, like, forever. Just a little nice thing for a little nice moment, you know?”

He doesn’t. “You are both very thoughtful. I do not know what to say.”

“You looked happy while you ate it,” Caduceus says. His expression is warm and gentle, as always. “You don’t have to say anything.”

“Except maybe what we should make next,” Jester adds. “There’s some kind of forest cake in that book we kept... do you decorate it with bark? What is it?”

Caleb actually laughs. “It’s, um. Just a nice chocolate cake.”

Caleb sleeps through the night that night.

Several weeks later, when they’re walking through a shaded valley, Caleb recognizes the little flower that Caduceus had put on Jester’s dish. He picks a few, pockets them, and resolves to figure out how to give them to her and why he wants to.

#critical fic #caleb widogast #caduceus clay #jester lavorre

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twohearts-hs · 7 years

Text

‘An Office Affair’ - CEO! Harry Series

Words: 2,232

Pairing: Harry Styles & (Y/N) (Y/L/N)

CEO Harry Series - please request part 2, plus ideas.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Styles Incorporated founded only thirty years has taken over the market. It was never big at first, just simply a company, but ever since he took over; the company has changed.

Harry had the same routine every day. The flat that he owned was always spick and span, everything had an order. He knew where everything was in the modern building. One ruffle, the person was out. That is one of the reasons he never had a girlfriend or a friend in general for long. In his mind, they messed up everything.

He woke up, the alarm blaring at him. If he were honest, he did love his job. He loved the feeling of being high up, with people being scared or admiring him. He liked the flirty assistants that tried to bed with him, but he never budged; just flirted back. Seeing the disappointment on their faces falling when he declines their offer for drinks or coffee.

He loves his assistant, Dorothy. A lady in her thirties who as like him, couldn't keep a partner. She had a boyfriend, lost him because he thought she was clingy, and she cried about him all the time or talked about the good memories. Her cheery voice was the only thing that made a smile come on his face. Her chirpy voice and red hair.

Harry had the same routine, getting up, heading to the bathroom, having a shower, and getting changed. He had different suits for different days, but the stress that comes with picking a tie or watch. The drawer that has little boxes, more every piece of merchandise. He loves his life.

The night before was stressful for her. The idea of starting a new job at one of the biggest firms in London, made her stomach turn. (Y/N) was never one in her university days to drink, party or do drugs. Her friends were, but look where they turned out to be. When telling them, yes they were proud, but they were sort of jealous as well. Since then, she hasn’t heard from them.

Yet, the idea of working there was nerve-wracking. She wasn’t at any small time company, she was taken into one of the biggest. In her mind, it was one of the scariest things to ever become, but the proudest. She reminded herself over and over again, that the reason she was here, was because she worked for it. She placed effort, and stress towards it, and she got a part of her dream.

The morning was worse on her mind. She had no idea who she was going to work with, she doesn’t even know what her boss looks like. Of course, she tried googling, but only a short Wikipedia message about the company itself came up; telling her the history and profits.

(Y/N) pulled herself out of her house in the nick of time. The stress overwhelmed the fear, making herself lost in her thoughts; creating her to be late. She didn’t even process what she would do if she were in this position. The fear took over, the worrying topped that. The only thoughts being the simple, ‘would they like me?’, or ‘what if I muck up?’. But, being late; she had no backup plan.

The building was huge when it came to an eye with her. It was your typical skyscraper with windows. (Y/N) noticed the people walking in and out; coming and going. She didn’t mind that. But, she had to go in quick or else she would be passed late.

The building was new from the looking around. The walls were tiled with white quartz and paintings hung around her. A Few awards were there, but most of it was bare. She noticed the reception in the centre back. The place was bare, just the blonde sitting there on a computer. No security guard or elevator noise was present. It was like she was in a white room, she was in a white room with a young blonde.

“Um, excuse me,” she began, seeing the lady still seeking interest on whatever was on her computer screen, “I’m here as the new intern” the blonde; beautiful at most still didn’t move. She did simple actions, that (Y/N) caught on, rolling her eyes and taking the attention off her screen, for once.

“Name.” it wasn’t a question, it was more of a statement. The voice that came out of her was monotone with a hint of annoyance. The non-existent confidence was beginning to shallow, creating a withering feeling inside. Her hands started to tremble, her lip moved gently. She knew she couldn’t be nervous now, she was so close.

“Uh, (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” she began in a hesitate voice, “here is my papers.” she fumbled for them in her bag, looking for the registration and emails she has gotten from the company.

The lady took them, snatching them and giving her a glare. What was her problem? The blonde which she read was Katie on the name tag on her chest, turned her chair and grabbed a file from behind her. She placed the file in front of (Y/N), pushing it gently towards her.

“Level twentyone. You’ll meet your boss there, at least one of them.” she nodded, mumbling a ‘thank you’ to the blonde with the cakey foundation, yet it still looked beautiful on her. She glared back and looked at her screen, acting as though (Y/N) was never there.

She walked to her left, heading to the elevator with the golden framing, pressing the up button. (Y/N) racked her mind for her first boss’ name, remembering it was Dorothy, Dorothy Laten. The door of the machinery opened with a slight, ‘ding’; it made her push herself in the enclosing area.

The doors closed on her, creating herself to jump a bit. The nerves acting up. Her finger came in contact with the button, pushing the number ‘21’. It pushed up, creating her to jolt forward; she knew she wasn’t steady on her feet. The anxiety was rushing through her bloodstream, creating her to constantly think of the worse.

The metal doors opened, her eyes instantly taking into view the glass doors in front of her. She noticed the busy workers, walking about, and another pretty young receptionist, brunette this time, sitting close to the doors.

She fumbled for her ID that came with the whole ‘welcome’ package. The doors needed it in order to open; sliding the card in the swipe spot, them opening with a clicking noise.

“Hi, um, I’m the new intern of Dorothy.” she noticed her voice still hesitating.

“(Y/N) right?” the brunette said, smiling up at her. She was kinder. The name she had was Megan, written on her tag.

“Uh, yes,” she told her, a smile beginning to appear on her face.

“Great! Welcome, I just called her, so have a sit there,” she told her, pointing to the chair closest to the desk.

(Y/N) was about to sit down, when a redhead appeared from the corner, “(Y/N), lovely! I’m Dorothy; I am going to be your boss, lucky you!” she was certainly upbeat, her plump body matching her personality of dyed red hair, the chirpy voice and minimal eyeliner. She looked as though she was in her mid-thirties. (Y/N) began following her through the maze of offices.

“So, I think there was a mix-up, sweetie.” Dorothy began, turning towards her, and smiling but still walking, as if that is possible, “First off, we do the ranking by floors, and we are on the same floor as Mr Styles, himself. So, you’re lucky. Second, you’re my assistant, not an intern, and I am the big boss’ assistant. He’ll be here in about an hour so you can meet him.” she just kept nodding to her, taking in all the information.

“You aren’t a talkative one, are you?” she turned around once again, almost bumping into (Y/N); herself stepping back.

“I think it is just the nerves,” she told her, in a small voice.

“Of course it is, but don’t worry love, you’ll feel like home in no time.”

They arrived at her office, (Y/N) sitting across from the redhead; bringing out a notebook to begin what her courses and obligations are. The office around her was the same as others, except they weren’t in a booth. The office had glass door entrance with spruce wooden walls. The desk was on the opposite side as the doors, with the giant window on the left of the desk. It was a beautiful small office. It looked bigger from the outside, yet it is not.

“Like I said, Mr Styles is not in office yet, so I’m just going to run through somethings with you.” she blocked out most of what she said, head and mind thinking of who Mr Styles is. Is he an older man, with greying hair and a fallen smile? It was said that he took over the company, not so long ago. Could he be in his mid-thirties, craving his life to start over again? With the fact of a boring wife, and bratty children. She wouldn’t know, she was simply just an assistant’s assistant.

“(Y/N) did you get that, love? Perfect, I’ll be back in a bit, need to grab something from the printer.” (Y/N) nodded, still silent.

The paper in front of her was blank, and her nervousness has come down into a low place now. Dorothy was correct after awhile you will feel better.

The door opened, creating her to turn her head to the glass doors. A man came in, talking half way through the frame to someone. She barely can make out who it was, but with the short curly hair, and low male voice, she could work out that it was a man. He turned around, closing the door, and his smile turned into a smirk. The posture he had was little from professional, his hands were in contact with the pockets of his suit, and his hair was pushed back a bit. He was at least in his mid-twenties.

“Oh, hi,” he said, she shook her head, grabbing pieces of information that she has so far to respond.

“Hi, um, Dorothy will be back in a bit, and Mr Styles is not here in the office at the moment.” he nodded, coming closer to her.

“Ok, that’s ok. Um. and you are?” he was closer to her now, a half a metre away from her.

She was nervous. Her hands began to tremble and her leg began to bounce up and down. He was beautiful; only if she admitted to it.

“Oh, sorry, I’m (Y/N). New intern, I mean assistant’s assistant,” he chuckled, she looked down, shook her head, “sorry, it is my first day here, and I have no idea what my position is. My boss is confusing me with the title.” he nodded, placing his hand on the desk, getting closer to the second.

“Ha, I get you. I’m Harry.” he stated, she shook his hand, and nodded, “So have you met the big boss yet?” she kept shaking her head, a blush creeping on her face.

“No. Is he scary or strict?” he laughed a bit.

“Some says he is, some don’t. I don’t think he is.” a smile came on her features. In her whole honest opinion, she was happy talking to him. He felt the same to her.

“Good, cause I don’t want some grumpy old boss.”

“Who’s saying he is old?” he told her, standing up, she felt embarrassed.

“I reckoned that he is old. Oh, god now that is embarrassing.” he winked at her.

“Don’t worry, love.” her eyes widen, shook filled the embarrassment. The door opened and closed, once again, yet a clicking of heels was heard than silent feet.

“Oi, Harry! Stop messing with our new intern.” Harry’s head turned to Dorothy a wide smile that showed his teeth came upon his gorgeous features. She was clueless, but the smile took her away from those thoughts.

“(Y/N), lovely, this is Harry Styles. I think you two met.” the shook was now taken back with embarrassment. Her mouth came open, slightly and she was stunned.

“Oh, shit. I’m so sorry, Mr Styles for the swearing and everything in general. I had no idea it was you. I feel so bad, and embarrassed, and unworthy. I, I, I - I insulted you. I’m so sorry.” way to go (Y/N) ruining your career and having not even been there for an hour. He simply chuckled.

“There are a few rules for you, lovely (Y/N). One, call me Harry; people who are close to me call me Harry, and two, don’t you worry, everyone makes mistakes. See you around, love.” his hand came in contact with her cheek, a stun expression written across her features. Was he flirting? No, this is her boss, he’ll play games, but if she reenacts it, it could cost her her job.

#harry #harry edward styles #Harry Styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagines #harry styles smut #harry styles preferences #harry styles concepts #one direction #one direction oneshot #one direction imagines #one direction smut #one direction preferences #one direction concepts #1d #1direction #1d imagine #1d preferences

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morimess · 4 years

Text

The Swamp

I drove my car into a swamp. No warning to others. My backpack which held most of my belongings was still in it. The only thing I did not let stay to be consumed by the rising water was my phone, dead by now due to a day(?) of use, and probably destroyed when the water got up to my waist. "I just wanted a new start" That's what the nagging voice was telling me. The urge to do the unthinkable just became too strong. The same voice that's told me to jump into near freezing water. The same voice that's told me to drive the- now flooded- car into a tree. Or to just start driving and never stop. The electric blue of my car had by now been overtaken by the brown water and sickly green algae. Until I could no longer see it. Someone else did the same before me. But I could still see the roof of their car poking above the water. Yet another person followed. But I could still see the back corner of his rear window. His car now parked square behind mine. Erasing any thoughts of just walking down into the water and driving it out. I stayed until the air bubbles stopped rippling the surface of the water. Harder now to see as the headlights that had been our guide flickered out, leaving only the moon to reach the dark bottom of the wood. While I just wanted to destroy something near to me, to do what the voice had asked, the others wanted to a more permanent escape. And they were successful. I stayed for a few more hours. Watching the blue night give way to gray morning. And I don't remember how, but I must've managed to stumble my way home and into my bed. Giving no thought to wash the swamp water (now a cakey dirt) or cuts off of myself, much less change my stiff clothes. I started out of my trance when my mother stood in my doorway- crying, calling out, and rushing over to comfort herself more than me. Apparently, I had been gone for a week. Strange, the walk home shouldn't have taken that long. Just how many days had I been in the swamp before we took the plunge? How many days before that had I just drove? Why were there more people in the swamp that day? I could've sworn it was just one. Must've been more.

I think I remember a bit now. I had stayed in the swamp for a full day, letting the surrounding mugginess and heat envelope the car and cook me inside while I just soaked in the warmth, and contemplated what it was all for. Before that, I had let my phone slowly die while playing from my longest playlist and just seeing where different roads began and ended. Often times going two states away before the road would end, and I turned back. I only stopped to fill up, and sleep. It took about three days for the playlist to end (I bought a charger at a gas station in West Virginia), and another twelve hours before I found the swamp.

The other two showed up that night in a sort of suicide pact. They thought I would stop them, but just became confused when I said I wouldn’t and actually wanted to join them. Well at least by putting the car in the swamp. I didn't care. I was just numb and tired.

I came back to the present, and actually got pretty pissed that mother was still fussing over me. I was home, so what? Why didn't I just disappear, or follow through completely?

I managed to get her off me, excuse myself- rather politely considering the thoughts in my head- take a shower, then pass out for 24 hours. When I awoke, my mother was waiting to talk to me, or more accurately at me. She wanted to take me somewhere, and I complied. I went outside, not bothering to shower, and decided to wait in her car until she took me to whatever had her so riled. The spot my car was usually parked sent a pang of worry into my heart. It was the first thing I remember feeling since that night. I debated taking one of our older cars and just drive off with that, to work or school or anywhere else my mom wouldn't be. I debated trading it, and using the rest of my bank account to buy a new car, recalling just how cheap we got my other one. Or at the very least buy a new laptop. I stared for a moment, contemplating these options, before mutely climbing into my mom's passenger's seat and letting my thoughts wander back to the voice. My mom got in the car shortly after. Talking excitedly, gushing over me coming back, and wanting to take me to see her friend, a therapist, to get me to "open up" about what happened. I stayed quiet. And my mother, to her credit, realized she wasn't getting anywhere and drove the rest of the way in silence. We arrive at the place and it looks to be in ruins. Walls are crumbling down, vines growing over intact portions of the them, and trees standing tall in the middle of rooms without ceilings, their limbs reaching out of roofs and shattered windows. Rivets in the ground led to a sinkhole from where excess rain had caused the ground to collapse into the storm cellar. Tunnels spreads out from there, water pooled on their floors, and rat droppings littering from the old food that remained. The black mold alone was enough to kill anyone dumb enough to squat there for any longer than a few days. Didn’t stop a few people though, as some unreadable, faded graffiti sprawled across the walls. This was not the therapists house, no her's was underneath this mess of nature and man. A bunker of sorts, that she kept up. We just needed to find the door. My mom started looking and so did I, missing the beat-up blue pickup pulling around in the middle of our search. Almost hitting me as I admired the overgrowth, more interested in finding snakes than whoever my mom thought could "help" me. Apparently mother thought bringing my brother in would help. Either with getting me open, or just to search I couldn't be sure. He looked at me smugly, gave a quip of how I "looked like hell", and went in for a hug. The touchy bastard smelled of sulfur and had mud around the cuff of his pants and dried water marks up to his knees. Mother heard and came up to see him. Apparently, it had been a while since the two had seen each other. I'm guessing Jacob spent most of the days since I disappeared looking for me. Not like the dunce made any actual progress, but at least it was more than just staying home and doing nothing but fret over my absence. He actually cares about me like I'm family. How quaint. I continue to look through the tall grass- eavesdropping on the conversation but the whispers make it hard to make out what they say- hoping to at least find some wild animal of interest.

A few moments pass, the truck door slams, and Jacob starts talking to me. He's holding something large in his hands if his shadow is anything to go by. Mother is nowhere to be found, Jacob must have convinced her to leave me in his care. "You seen the news?" I scoff, but give no answer. Not ready to give up being mute just yet. Of course I hadn't seen the news, when would I have? "Here. Watch." Jacob handed me his phone, with a video pulled up. His voice rang through the speaker, obviously excited about whatever was happening. The video panned over several large machines: backhoes, tow-trucks, and- in the distance at least- there was a fire truck and a couple police cars judging by the lights bouncing off of the trees near the- The Swamp. I turned around to look at Jacob, his eyes fixed on my face, searching for answers. It was then that I got a good look at what was in his hands. It's damp, rather large, looks covered in moss and reeked of sulfur. The same smell that was on him. I look at him confused and a bit disgusted as he hands it to me. Realization struck me.

My backpack.

I open it, and inside find my notebooks, sketchpads, and laptop, now sitting in a pulpy mess in the bag. I turn back and play the rest of the video. They’re removing the cars from the swamp. The two with the deceased inside, and one without. Jacob’s shouting, screaming, pushing past the people and heavy machines as they bring out my car. He’s frantic searching for something he won’t find. He dropped the phone right at the shoreline, but I had understood what happened.

He would have only found me because of his work. I almost laughed at that.

Jacob’s eyes never leave my face. “I want answers.” His voice is small, but clearly distraught and angry.

Meanwhile I have to wipe a smile away, as he forces me out of mute.

“I was carjacked.” Was my simple response.

“Kidnapped too?” I looked at him puzzled. “Come on, you know dad has tracking apps on our phones.”

Oh yeah. I forgot about that. Wait, then why didn’t dad try looking for me too? Something isn’t adding up.

“Yup.”

“So why didn’t you call?”

“Why would the kidnapper leave my phone with me?”

“I don’t know, why do you have it in your back pocket?”

“I don’t.” I know I don’t. I left it at home. Why does this feel so weird? This isn’t me.

“Really? Then what’s this?” Jacob reaches into my pocket, and pulls out a phone that…Still works? How-

“Are you gonna tell the truth, or do I need to force it out of you?”

His voice is starting to warp. The light suddenly becomes too bright and the darks are pitch black. Jacob is now a detective in a noir film-

Wait, what?

Then I wake up.

#dreams #i have some very weird dreams #my writing #though I haven't had any that I could remember for a while #i know no one will read this #so why did i write it #tw suicide #tw intrusive thoughts #tw imp of the perverse #I have a very strong imp #some of these things I actually do #like follow a road until it ends #then all the way back to the start #my dad does actually have a tracker on my phone #I've ended up two states away and back when he thought I had a shift #my brother is training to be a firefighter #that's why he was at the scene #i don't actually hate my mom #that's just the feeling the dream gave me #I don't think my dad knows about that game though #I do actually have a playist that would take several day to finish #i need help #not the first dream I've written about #if this gets more than 20 notes i might post a different dream #I have also just sat in my car on an 80+ degree day #depression is a bitch #oh yeah #tw depression

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