#to the tune of nine in the afternoon | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blog-name-idk · 1 year

Text

The Plot Twist | 02

Written by @blog-name-idk and @eserethriddle

Summary: Once upon a time you would have jumped at the chance to live the idol girlfriend life. The cameras, the action, the whirlwind romance. But what was once a dream has now become your worst nightmare, and you fully intend to fight the universe as it repeatedly conspires to set you up with your seven perfectly good soulmates from Bangtan Sonyeondan.

In which we punt Y/N into all the fanfiction tropes and you do your feral best to subvert the love story.

Because nani the fuck, you are The Plot Twist.

Pairing: OT7 X Fem!Reader

Genre: Soulmate!AU, crack, humor, idol!AU, light angst, slow burn, romantic comedy, just a fun silly old time

Rating: 18+

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Chapter 2: "Ahjussi, go back to MapleStory."

Life is truly unremarkable as a soulmate-less bachelorette.

Thankfully, none of the symptoms Junior Liaison Officer Choi Mijin mentioned to you have occurred – no bodily anomalies, no universal conspirations – and, on the way home from your parents’ place, you chide your anxious self for letting a thirty-minute phone call upturn the joyous revelries of turning twenty-five.

Though of course, even someone like you can see the grandeur behind it. The potential.

Soulmate. Not half of one’s heart, not ‘mi media naranja,’ but soulmate. Someone utmost, born from the same fabric of life – possibly indelicate, and not without flaws – but beautiful, blameless, and immaterially yours.

It’s great. Really great. But it’s daunting, too. There’s unprecedented pressure in that kind of ordeal, and… you like unremarkable. It’s safe. If you were ever going to be remarkable, it would be in ways you can directly control – like getting to the last floor of skull caverns or politely tearing incompetent coworkers to shreds when they challenge you.

But real life? Real personal relationships, with people that matter? That becomes a polynomial. There are too many variables outside of your ability to dictate, too much that could go wrong for you to spend too long mourning the absence of any soulmate symptoms. And anyway, your singularity isn’t your sob story – it’s your defense. Your most effective one.

You get back to your apartment at half past nine the following morning, heavy tupperwares of side dishes prepared by your mother hoisted in tow. At ease, you whistle a cheery tune as you get settled around your kitchenette, arranging each fully packed box amongst refrigerator shelves with care. You help yourself to an enticing pinch of putbaechu and decide to place its tupperware farther down the back.

Yes, that batch probably needed more time to ferment. After all, it’s impossible for napa cabbage kimchi to taste as sweet as cake.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

In his black-and-white checkered pajamas, Jeon Jungkook happily devours the two-tier caramel-frosted cake for breakfast. Furthermore, because he is a considerate maknae, he leaves the vegan, calorie-measured miniature cake for the rest of his hyungs to share when they wake.

They really don't appreciate him enough.

An early riser, also still in pajamas, Kim Seokjin spots him and tuts. “Jungkook, that isn’t healthy.” When Jungkook suddenly spits out the forkful he’d just shoved into his mouth, the eldest grimaces and admonishes, “Yah! I taught you better than that! That is disgusting behavior.”

“You know what’s disgusting?” Jungkook retorts with a revolted scowl, pushing the offensive dessert box far away from his person, lest it insult him yet again. “Surprise vegan cake. I’m going to sleep, hyung. Good night.”

“You mean ‘good morning.’” Seokjin corrects, reaching for the coffee pot with a sigh. “Brat.”

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

During your afternoon gaming hours, your phone screen lights up with a notification. Your extended arm worms through sofa pillows to swipe and unlock it, and you instantly growl at the e-mail that greets you.

From: [email protected] Recipients: [email protected], [email protected] Subject: Executive Meeting on Tuesday

Dear Associates,

We hope this e-mail finds you well.

In preparation for the upcoming work week, we would like to advise your stations re: the exploratory meeting with CEO Son Hyunsuk scheduled for this Thursday at 15:00 (KST) on external company collaborations.

We appreciate your confirmation upon receipt of this notice and bid you a happy weekend.

Regards, Samsong Executive Scheduling

“Jesus Kim Christ, it is a Sunday. This should be illegal,” you swear, placing down the handheld gaming console on the couch next to you and getting up to refill your glass of water instead. Unfortunately, on your return from your hydration quest, you bang your ankle on the leg of the coffee table.

"MotherFUCKER!" you curse, collapsing onto your sofa and cradling your leg for a full minute. After recovering, you pick your console back up.

Idly hovering on the gaming screen, Tom Nook stares up at you with a deadpan glare. You’d think his heavy-lidded, judgmental look was a reaction to your use of offensive language, but you roll your eyes at the prospect.

Tom Nook, the island racoon? A landlord. He can judge all he wants. He’s as evil as company capitalists come.

With somehow even less of a conscience.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

“Ah one, ah two, ah five, six, seven, eight!”

Jung Hoseok snaps his fingers as he moves to the beat, flawlessly demonstrating the first few steps of the dance routine. Kim Taehyung watches him, crouched in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirrors like a religious student, except he’s also thinking, That is not how arithmetics works. This is why we are performers and not math teachers.

Hoseok seems to catch the faraway look in Taehyung’s expression, because his limbs freeze, dropping to a sudden stop, brown gaze slanting sharp and deadly. The other boys, sensing blood in the water, subtly shift away and try to look as focused as possible.

“What? Would you rather practice cartwheels with Jimin again?” Hoseok rumbles, hand on hip.

Yes…Taehyung laughs nervously. “No.”

Jimin shoots him a knowing look.

“You know,” Hoseok says, pointedly, brandishing his left leg, “I woke up with more bruises from you again. I couldn’t pair my tie-dye top with my denim shorts so now I’m stuck here practicing in my joggers with you instead of walking around Yongsan.”

You’re welcome, Yongsan, Taehyung thinks. Personally, he believes Hoseok’s fashion sense is something of a moving target.

Hit or miss. Miss a lot.

Oh well. Time to bring out the puppy eyes. “Hobi-hyung, can we start from the chorus instead?” He pouts, for cuteness excess.

“Fine!” the dance leader snaps, trying to mask the way the irritation ebbs out of his voice.

Taehyung suppresses a satisfied grin.

Yup. Works every time.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

By the middle of the work week, Min Yoongi has barely scraped by to meet a hard production deadline. Gears still turning in his mind, day lapses into night, unnoticed in the dark haven of his studio. He leisurely strums his guitar for an hour, puts it down, and reaches to compose an accompanying melody with the use of the nearest piano.

Eventually, Yoongi turns off all his music equipment. In his mind, there’s an echo of a tune he can’t shake away. He can barely hear it himself – soft, feminine, slumberous – and he lays back with his eyes closed to savor the ghost of it instead.

He wants to commit it to memory. It’s something he’s never heard before.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Miles away, you feel pleasantly adrift. It's been months since you moved in, and you hadn’t been aware that your neighbors played music. In fact, the walls between apartment units are assuredly thick enough for all kinds of noises to filter through – a blessing when you get sniped by yet another rune bear.

You're also not really one to enjoy ambient noise outside of your control, but to your surprise, you don't mind this music at all.

It’s nice.

You tuck your knees to your chest and rest your body against the headboard of your bed, closing your eyes to listen. But it seems that the mysterious musician has gone to sleep for the night. Instead, the old made-up lullaby your mother used to sing to you when you were a child filters into your brain unbidden, and you smile at the memory. Within minutes, lightly humming to yourself, you let the notes overtake your thoughts and fall sound asleep.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Tonight, your dream plays like an old movie. Most of your dreams are like this, but here you feel like you exist in snippets – that you’re a passenger in someone else's skin. Like you’re standing at a different height, taller than reality. The colors seem to cling to the edges of your vision like haloed light through fogged glass when you move, leaving you half-sentient, fighting to see through the haze of your subconscious mind. Like you’re not you.

You wonder where you are. Who.

I want to do more, you hear yourself think in your dream. I want to be more.

You see your feet take you away from backrooms with white walls. Your heart’s near bursting and telling you how much of this it missed, telling you you're finally back where you belong.

This: before your very eyes, an ocean of twinkling violet.

There’s an overwhelming rush of love in your chest as a chant fills the air, expanding throughout your body until it's spilling from your eyes. You can feel the skin of your lips stretch into a smile.

Everything feels like a dream come true.

“I’m your hope!” you tell the roaring crowd.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Jung Hoseok bolts upright at exactly 6:15 AM.

Letting out a groan, he drops his face into his hands and croaks out, “What the fuck.”

“You okay, hyung?” Jungkook asks, getting ready to turn in for bed himself. It’s his fourth nocturnal day in a row.

Hoseok usually admonishes Jungkook for this kind of misbehavior, but right now he can’t muster enough indignation. It’s just–

“I had a dream. I was a MapleStory livestreamer and – I was really into it. But really? In this economy?” Hoseok continues to complain in his rough morning voice, “I don’t even game.”

Jungkook sniggers, hogging the blankets to himself. “That’s true. Maybe you traded dreams with Jin-hyung?”

Hoseok rubs the spot between his brows. Frowns. It's possible, Jin does love MapleStory. Though lately he's been on a weird arcade game kick despite Namjoon scolding him for being careless in public.

Appeased, he finds the spark to be a proper hyung to their precious maknae. “Don’t sleep at this time tomorrow, JK. If I catch you again, you’re dead at practice. Capisce?”

Jungkook nods a hundred times and buries himself under the sheets. Hobi might lack the broadness and mustache of the stereotypical Italian mobster, but he manages to exude a menacing aura all the same.

“Capeesh, hyung.”

Because he is not a MapleStory livestreamer, Jung Hoseok climbs out of bed at 6:30 in the morning. Because he has a bunch of back-breaking schedules to get to. It’s another Thursday.

No matter what, he’s going to survive. In this economy.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Thursday meetings are like Monday meetings but from the nine circles of hell combined.

You shuffle into the arcade with a slump in your shoulders but a fire in your heart. The last time you had a day this bad at work was the last time you had come here, to let out your inner rage on tiny dots and cute little ghosts.

You hadn't even realized it was an arcade at first – you had just found your feet moving automatically towards the storefront, as if inexplicably drawn. And as soon as you set foot inside, even before the odd smell of metal tokens that lingers even in arcades with balance cards, an immediate sense of peace washed over you. That this place was safe. That you could enter and put your everyday life and problems on pause for a short, sweet amount of time.

That feeling has remained with each visit, only growing stronger with your increasing familiarity with both the arcade and the elderly owner Lee-ssi, a friendly man who reminds you of your own grandfather.

You're sure that the worn down sight of you in your white blouse and black pencil skirt amidst the backdrop of the rowdy neon arcade is strange, but you figure if your colleagues can release their frustrations by throwing down in public establishments, so can you. In your own way.

The first and last time you went out with your coworkers, the guy from marketing tried to get you to come home with him. So you made up a liver disease to avoid being expected to drink with them again, and are now letting out your frustrations in a much healthier way: against some cocky kid who calls themselves "the Pacman God."

They are pretty good, you will admit.

Just not as good as you.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

There are a few things that never fail to brighten Lee Seungwon's day. Getting to see the half-toothed smile on his baby grandson's face, making his son-in-law uncomfortable when his daughter isn't around, and –

"WHO. DID. THIS?!" Kim Seokjin demands, furiously pointing at the arcade machine standing innocently in the corner, taunting him.

Resisting the urge to laugh, Seungwon only sighs and crosses his arms, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else. Which is truly a front, because despite all the annoyances that come with running an arcade, he truly loves his job. He loves providing a space where kids can be kids, and the rare adult can relive the worry-free days of their youth.

"We respect the privacy of our clients, sir," he says politely, lips twitching at Seokjin's dramatic shriek of outrage. Seungwon has especially been looking forward to this particular adult's reaction upon finding his high score beaten by one of the newer regulars.

"Don't you remember who I am?!" the handsome man questions, and the storekeeper looks him up and down, once again unimpressed. Seokjin remembers he's ensconced in a bright pink hoodie and pink sweatpants, then gives a mental shrug.

Whatever. He looks good in everything.

"Yes. ‘Jin the Pacman God.’ Currently… number two in that game," the shopkeeper sneers as he insults the most handsome man in Korea – possibly the world. "Second to GoDsLaYeR_69." he adds, for good measure.

Seokjin gapes at the audacity of this mortal, his gamer rage only further activated by the offensive words that come out of Seungwon’s mouth next.

"Maybe you should go back," the shopkeeper suggests, inspecting his cuticles, "to MapleStory." After a pause, he puts the final nail in the coffin currently housing Seokjin's pride: "Ahjussi."

The Kim Seokjin, being called ahjussi by a man who looks older than Yoongi's soul?

That's it. That's fucking it.

With gurgling, unintelligible squawks of indignation, Seokjin pulls out his wallet and slaps his arcade card on the counter, followed by his black credit card.

"Load this up with 2,000,000W. Right now."

Lee Seungwon hides a smirk as he obeys.

It's just too easy.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

It had been a rare occasion in which all of the boys’ evenings (and following mornings) had been free simultaneously, and Hoseok decided to celebrate this in a way so rarely possible for them to do together anymore: to find a noraebang and get absolutely wasted.

"How did I let you guys persuade me into doing this again?" Namjoon asks, blinking in a mixture of joy and consternation at the freshly inked, slightly inflamed 7 on his skin. He flexes the side of his leg and watches the clear bandage wrinkle and smooth at the motion.

"Friendship!" Taehyung announces happily, eyes alight as he sways ever so slightly in his chair. Jungkook and Jimin are fully knocked out on each of Taehyung’s shoulders, their demonic sides hidden by the angelic expressions on their sleeping faces.

"No," Yoongi corrects, revealing a bottle of Suntory whisky from god-knows-where. "This."

"Ah, yes!” Eyes bright with satisfaction, Namjoon’s dimples deepen, and Seokjin laughs at how childish Namjoon looks in his glee as he receives his prize and cradles it to his chest with utmost and deliberate regard. With his vision blurred from all of the alcohol, it almost looks like it's disappearing into the leader's ample bosom. “Sunny, my frieeeend!"

Yoongi nods at him, ten times too much, then glances at Taehyung as he narrowly avoids falling off his chair for the umpteenth time. “The infants are fading,” he mutters, “Let’s get them home.”

Twenty minutes later, Hoseok emerges behind a curtain with a brand new tattoo, ready to show it off and receive compliments for being brave and only screaming once.

Except he’s all alone in the waiting room.

He waits a single beat before looking around in confusion.

“Guys?”

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

You stumble through your doorway, confused by your body's decision to stop functioning properly. It had begun at the arcade, your normal precision and flawless execution apparently deciding to take its own mental health day and leaving you with slowing reflexes and sloppy reactions.

Finally, you decided to leave after realizing you'd been growling at the machine for the better part of an hour.

Well actually, Lee-ssi had kindly given you a bottle of water and suggested you take a break because you were scaring the kids. You decided to go home lest your happy place become tainted by the miasma of your god-slaying alter ego.

On the train, you nodded off and almost missed your stop – something that never happens. You tripped on your way off the train, and you had initially blamed it on being drowsy, but the trek from the station to your apartment did nothing to dispel your clumsiness.

If you didn't know any better, you would have thought you had gone drinking with your coworkers and were now stumbling home in a drunken haze. But you've been at the arcade since you left work, so that's impossible.

Maybe you're getting sick. That would explain the fogginess in your head, the sluggishness of your limbs.

Feeling under the weather, you spend the night in the dark of your bedroom. But then intense, prickling feelings bug you all over. Instead of the rest you hoped for, the hours are filled with tossing and turning, needle-points on your skin that fall just shy of being painful.

When you wake up, you find your skin tattooed seven different times with the number seven in seven different places.

Um.

What the fuck?

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Masterlist | Next

#bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts ot7 x reader #ot7 x reader #bts soulmate au #soulmate au #eserethriddle #reveri #fruit party 🥭🍒

309 notes · View notes

just-a-torn-up-masterpiece · 2 years

Text

for i have sinned

masterlist

Pairing - priest!wanda maximoff x reader

18+ : dubcon, religious language used in and out of sex, smut; degradation, rough sex and kissing, strap use(r receiving), blood kink, cutting (wanda to r), sacrilegious asf tbh, dom!wanda

A/N - catholic school trauma said i had to write this and also photoshop priest!wanda so that’s an extra little gift

A job at the catholic church was not what you’d originally planned for your summer break from university, waiting tables or serving behind a bar was what you had in mind but this was all you could find. And money is money.

So now you’re finding yourself making copies of fliers for the church, leaning against the wall with the whirring of the printer as background noise. You didn’t necessarily believe in this stuff but putting ‘atheist’ on your application wouldn’t have done you any favours so within the hours of nine and five you’re catholic through and through.

It was only your first week and it’s already getting boring. The smell of the candles burns your nose and the polish they use on the pews makes you cough but at least you don’t have to sit through services and mass.

“Afternoon, Y/N.” Wanda smiled as she walked in.

“Hi, Wanda.” You returned.

“Mass starts in twenty minutes - all staff are expected to attend. I wasn’t sure if you knew so I thought I’d tell you.” You did not fucking know at all, you’d had enough of sitting through masses during your catholic school days and it took so much effort to hold back the grimace fighting its way to the surface.

“Oh, okay. Thanks for letting me know.”

“No worries. They’re big on Latin here, so I’d brush up on that if I were you.” She added. “I could always help you if you want.”

“That’d be great, thank you.” You smiled as she left with a nod. She’s too sweet for you to turn down, always smiling and softly spoken, going out of her way to help anybody and everybody. Everyone who steps foot in the church knows how nice she is, such gentle innocence and light radiates from her.

You made sure to drink another coffee before the service, you were going to need it if you didn’t want to doze off.

—

The last few weeks have been spent printing flyers, drinking crappy coffee, learning Latin with Wanda whilst trying not to stare at her unimaginable beauty and sitting in on sermons. At least when Wanda gives them you can watch her speak, white clerical collar around her neck, black blouse hanging over her body.

Her hands made gestures with her words, fingers dancing through the air, svelte and adorning a couple of rings. Her voice was soft as her eyes gazed over the crowd and although the lilt to her voice was melodic, you tuned her words out, instead flitting your eyes between her and the stained glass windows beside you.

“For this is the will of god, your sanctification; that you abstain from sexual immorailty; that each one of you know how to control his own body in holiness and honour, not in the passion of lust like the gentiles who do not know god.”

Her words barely registered as you just pulled at a loose thread on your sleeve, eyes mindlessly trailing over her body; up her long legs clothed beneath trousers, boots partly covered by them.

“But each person is tempted when he is lured and enticed by his own desire. Then desire when it has conceived gives birth to sin, and sin when it is fully grown brings forth death.”

She could tell you weren’t paying proper attention when she caught sight of you at the back of the church where you sat alone, a bored look plastered over your face. She wasn’t surprised, she sees you fighting back yawns any time you attend a service, she catches you stealing glances at her during your tutoring sessions.

She was aching to do something about it. It goes against her own life, her entire life and vocation she’s built. But she’d be helping though, right? Doing the lord’s work. You were a stain, dirty and sinful, desperately in need of purity. It was her calling to erase the tarnish within your soul.

“But each person is tempted when he is lured and enticed by his own desire.”

She glanced at you and licked her lips, she can’t wait to set you on the right path. Her hand gripped tightly onto the missal stand as she flicked pages, clenching her jaw at your obvious inattention and sending a sickly sweet smile your way when you glanced up.

—

“Okay, repeat that back to me.” Wanda spoke from beside you, she sat next to you at the table in the break room where she’d been helping you with your Latin, chin resting in the palm of her hand as she watched you.

“Extra Ecclesiam nulla salus.” You returned, returning the radiant smile she gave you. (Outside the Church there is no salvation)

“Good girl.” She knew that would make you nervously clear your throat the way you did and she didn’t even bother hiding the smug smirk that tugged her lips upwards. “Try this one. Nitimur in vetitum.”

You repeated the phrase as best you could, basking in the praise she sent your way. “What does it mean?” You asked her and watched as she inched closer with eyes darker than you’d ever seen them and her hand trailing over your thigh beneath the table. You wanted to move away, you knew this was wrong but you couldn’t ignore the shivers sent through you at her touch.

“We strive for the forbidden.” She returned lowly, plump lips so close to your cheek you could feel the ghost of them pass over your skin and the intrusion of her hand pushing further and further up your thigh.

“Wanda, we can’t do this - you can’t do this.” You rushed out, moving your head back from her.

“Deus vult.” She growled through clenched teeth, a possessive hunger on her features you never imagined she could ever possess as her fingertips harshly dug into your flesh and her lips slammed into yours. You wanted to push her away, you really should push her away but the way her lips moved with yours was better than you could’ve imagined, all the rough possessiveness she could harness. (god wills it)

Her grip was harsh on the back of your neck until she pushed your head away at the sound of approaching footsteps, all of a sudden encompassing that innocent doe eyed facade she always sports when a few colleagues walked in. You lowered your head nervously at the stern glance she addressed you with, perfectly hiding the fact she was so near to just fucking you on the table just moments prior.

“This will be continued.” She whispered before taking her leave.

—

Wanda was a woman of her word and that’s why you’re now in her bedroom with your back flush against her door as her lips claim yours and her tongue licks into your mouth. The ring on her thumb pressed into the centre of your throat when she held onto your neck, cold against your heated skin.

The way her lips slotted with yours was desperate with her teeth nipping at your bottom lip, clashing into yours sloppily; it was clear she’d been wanting to do this for a while. Her other hand trailed down your side, creeping beneath your shirt to pinch the bare flesh of your waist.

She growled breathlessly against your lips, “Hoc est corpus meum.” Her thumb pushed onto the column of your throat and you were sure her thick silver ring was going to leave an impression behind but the thought of being left with any physical reminder of her only made the arousal in your belly grow tenfold. Her hand slid further down until she cupped your cunt through your trousers, feeling your heat as you just yelped in surprise. “Corpus tuum est corpus meum.” Her voice was low and possessive and she claimed your lips as hers again, not caring about the way she pushed your head into the wooden door behind you. (this is my body)(your body is my body)

Wandering fingers grabbed the hem of your shirt before yanking it over your head, drinking in the sight of your body as she tossed it across the room, reaching behind you to rid you of your bra with an immediate sinking of her teeth into your breast. You hissed at the feeling, arching your body into her as her fingertips pulled at your nipple and her tongue licked over your skin.

She pulled open the button of your trousers, forcing them past your hips and only pulling away from you to watch as you stepped out of them and kicked them across the hardwood floor. When she pushed her hips back into yours you felt a bulge against you through the thin material of your underwear and you couldn’t help but rock your hips over it whilst she kissed you.

“Such a little fucking whore.” She breathed, stepping backwards to unbuckle the belt around her waist, undressing herself so she stood before you with only her shirt and clerical collar on her body and the red strap she’d been waiting to use on you between her legs. You licked your lips at the sight of it, not missing the way Wanda smirked at the flustered look on your face.

It nudged against you when she closed the space between you, holding your chin between her finger and thumb to make your eyes lock with hers. “Genua ante patrem tuum et orate.” She muttered through gritted teeth, pushing you behind her to swap places, nudging your shoulder down until you were on your knees before her. (kneel before your father and pray)

“Forgive me father, for I have sinned.” You closed your eyes as you spoke, head bowed and hands clasped together. You shivered at the feeling of something cold gliding over your shoulder and pushing your head up from beneath your chin, cool metal on your skin when you opened your eyes to Wanda towering over you. She held a silver letter opener against you with her fingers wrapped around the handle, guiding the pointed end down the thin skin of your throat musingly.

“Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.” You continued with bated breath at her next move, the feeling of the blade moving lower to settle beneath your collarbone. (my fault, my fault, my grievous fault)

“I’m going to make you pure.” Wanda whispered, pushing the sharp metal into your skin. You winced at the two cuts she decorated your flesh with, a cross that will stay on your body as a scar and a reminder of who had been there.

With one hand she pulled your head back by your hair, with the other she swiped her thumb through the pooling blood, the crimson that was slowly but surely dripping down your breast. The bloodied pad of her thumb drew the sign of the cross on your forehead, two overlapping lines of a red smear. She admired the sight of you beneath her, looking up with teary eyes.

“C’mon, take it.” She smiled, pushing the tip of her cock against your lips, roughly pushing it past your parted lips when you slackened your jaw for the intrusion. She fucked into your mouth, not caring about the way it hit the back of your throat roughly and caused tears to spill down your cheeks at the feeling.

She only pushed your head away once she was satisfied and your lips pulled away with a string of saliva clinging to her length and your face hot and wet with tears and bleary eyes, she only pointed to the bed and you followed her gesture obediently, lying back with your head on her pillows as she climbed over your body. Her gaze was predatory, the stroke of the back of her fingers down the skin of your cheek shocked you but the soft look on her face wasn’t completely honest. Yes, she looked at you admiringly but more as though you were in need of her help, the sacrificial lamb she was saving from slaughter - this was for your own good.

She pushed her lips to yours and caught the yelp you let out into her mouth when she pushed into your dripping cunt without any warning, she eased into you slowly, stretching you out and coating her cock with your arousal before pulling out and thrusting into you again to begin her harsh pace.

She grabbed the hands that clung to her back, linking her fingers with yours and pushing them into the mattress either side of your body whilst she continued to fuck you

“This is for your own good, you know?” She breathed through grunts of her own from her clit rubbing on the strap as she fucked you, growing closer to climax with each snap of her hips into yours. “Dirty sinners like you need to be fucked pure, isn’t that right?”

You couldn’t even answer her, too mesmerised by the sight above you. Her body hovering over yours, fitted shirt still on her body with her collar still fixed around her neck and the crucifix necklace she always wore swinging rhythmically above your face. The silver pendant shone in the light as it swayed.

“Isn’t that right?” She repeated sternly with her hand now squeezing at your throat and lusting eyes boring into yours.

“Y-yes, yes.” You nodded, cutting yourself off with a moan as Wanda’s pace increased, growing rougher if that was even possible. You could hear her pushing into you, the small thuds of the bed and the shaking of the wooden crucifix on the wall, threatening to fall if she fucked you any harder.

“You belong to me.” She uttered, bringing her lips beside your ear. “I’m your fucking God. Now, be a good little devoted catholic girl and fucking cum all over my dick.”

With the way her voice rasped and her thumb rubbed over your clit, it took practically seconds for you to scream her name, your body hot and shaking as your back arched off the bed and your eyes scrunched closed. Her own orgasm was close behind and you both took a few moments to catch your breaths before she left you empty and discarded her strap across the room.

She lay beside you where you looked at the ceiling in a daze and musingly dragged her fingertip over the drying blood on your chest.

“I don’t think you’re quite pure yet.”

“I s’pose I need more of this penance then.”

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda x you #wanda maximov #wanda marvel #wanda maximoff smut #wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #wanda mcu

2K notes · View notes

cleverinsidejoke · 8 months

Text

Part One

Part 2

Based off of my little idea of an Sagau where the Creator is a friend of the reader's from their own world. You can read it here. This is a little long, but I feel that it's necessary to set the scene before going into the plot. I haven't done creative writing in a while, so I hope it's at a good readable state. I don't think there's anything to warn you about, but if there is, let me know and I'll update it.

1.7k words, excluding this introduction.

The hum of fluorescent lights fills the quiet office space, interrupted by your thoughts and the sounds of typing and paper shuffling. It had been a truly awful day.

The HR and customer service departments' phone lines and power had gone out in the early afternoon, and prior experience in both had lumped the workload onto the shoulders of you and your coworkers. All you wanted to do was go home. Even the warm sunny day and Cecil’s quiet humming were serving to worsen your already sour mood.

“Well everyone, it’s going to take longer than we thought to fix the issue, so we’ve got two options for you. You can work late tonight, get paid overtime, and get tomorrow off, or you can call it quits for today and head home.” The IT man nodded in agreement as your boss explained away the situation. “Just let me know by closing time.” Quiet groans permeated the room at the thought of staying late, but not coming in tomorrow was certainly a tempting offer.

“I’ll stay.” You pipe up quickly as your boss begins to leave. She pauses and turns around, appraising you with her unwavering gaze, as though observing your credibility.

“Anyone else?” Empty stares meet hers, the humming ceases, and an air of hesitance is her only response for a long moment. Raising an eyebrow, she turns to the door to leave.

“I’ll keep Y/N company.” Gene pipes up from beside you. “It’s no good being alone in a big office anyway.” You give them a nod of acknowledgement, also serving to convince the boss that you’re enthused about staying late. It’s a long moment before she breaks her gaze from yours.

“Is that everyone?” A few more of the older coworkers join in as the clock strikes five, and soon the life in the office blinks out. The boss returns to her office a few floors up. Far enough to not supervise effectively.

Gene had immediately put on elevator music after the boss’s exit, and began a push to finish the customer service work, which you were thankful for. It was always good to have some motivation. All that was left at this point was to make a list of the companies you couldn’t call this late and to finish checking the HR reports.

“Almost done?” Gene leans across their desk, reaching out to spin the papers on yours around to look at. “Nice.” Sliding the papers back, they look around the empty office. “When we get this done, would you like to play some Genshin?”

“Sure.” Your reply is loud in the quiet room. The devices and sound of people working renders an indoor voice small. “Your world or mine?” The fluorescent lights hum quietly overhead.

“Dunno. We’ll figure it out when we get home and log on.” The work goes by slowly, the tapping of the keys and rifling of paper sounding as the clock ticks on. Seven o’clock, eight o’clock, nine… “Done!”

Glancing up briefly as you finish organizing the reports, you see them exit the office, entering the break room. “Where are you going?” You call out quietly. Fluorescent lights hum a dull tune as you wait, clicking your mouse as you shut down the office system and open up the game. Using their back to push open the door, Gene reenters, holding two paper coffee cups.

“I figured I’d get us something to keep us up. If we’re free tomorrow, what’s to stop us from staying up playing Genshin?” Kicking the door shut, they flounce over, setting your cup in front of you. The pleasant aroma of hot chocolate escapes as you remove the lid.

“Are we gonna use the work computers or go home?” The pair of you had been friends for years, and recently roommates, as house prices were only increasing. You both pitched in on rent for the apartment, saving the money that didn’t go to rent or necessities to find a nice home so that you could potentially get another roommate. Gene had even pulled a few strings to get you this job, so it was safe to say that the pair of you were close.

“The boss is probably waiting for us to leave first, so…” Gene shrugs, taking a sip of their drink, spinning slowly in their chair, soon turning once again to face you. “Let’s get home and see if the update finished.”

“Got it. Let me grab my lunchbox and we can head out.” Pulling on your jacket, you go to the break room, grabbing your lunchbox from the fridge. Shutting off the lights in there, the dull hum lessens. Picking up your hot chocolate, you push open the office door, using your foot to hold it open for Gene.

“Thanks.” You exit the building, shutting off lights as you go, the hum lessening with each flick of a switch. The streets are loud despite the time, as all city streets are. Cars passed, each one with its own destinations, men and women called for taxis, others opting for the metro system instead, swiping their cards once and being on their way.

Taking public transportation wasn’t so bad, provided that it wasn’t too crowded. Unlike the senseless chatter of vehicles on the topside, the metro acted as the quieter underbelly of the city. Finishing your drink, you threw the leftover cup away as the pair of you waited for your train to arrive.

“Oh, I can’t wait to get home.” You groan, rolling your neck in an attempt to release the tension that rests there. “Get into pajamas, get some water, and just brainlessly explore Fontaine.”

“Want me to make something when we get home?” You don't respond as the train pulls in, doors opening and a straggler or two filing out as you entered, instantly finding a seat to sit on, relinquishing all strength to the anxiety and annoyance of the previous few hours.

The ride is silent. The stop soon arrives and you both get off, Gene wrapping an arm around your shoulder as you exit the subway into the poorly lit neighborhood. The apartment isn’t all that far or difficult to get to, and you’re soon at home, changing into your pajamas.

Wrapping a blanket around yourself, you exit into the small living room, where Gene is setting up your desktops and getting the game going. Curling up on the couch, you scan the screen. You had been doing commissions in Mondstadt last time you’d played, having left Lumine and Paimon to wait by the Adventurer’s Guild. Glancing at Gene’s screen, you make a request to join their world.

“It’s Diona’s birthday.” Your remark snaps Gene out of a previously unnoticed thought.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I forgot. Wanna do something for it?” They accept your request, and Lumine pops up in their world. Adding Diona to your party, you run circles around Gene’s traveler, Aether. Although Diona could get annoying, this was a tradition for you, and you weren’t about to break something that got your mind out of the ‘surviving life’ mindset.

“We could go to the Cat’s Tail, make a few wishes, then make a few drinks.”

“Sounds good.” Adding Diona to their team, you both make your way to the quiet restaurant while pausing briefly to check if you have the ingredients to make a drink. The game never specified if the drinks you could make were alcoholic, but it didn’t really matter with some imagination, did it?

After an hour or two of doing commissions and cooking, you had reached enough primogems to reach that final intertwined fate for a ten pull. Upon opening the gacha system, you were met with a strange sight. There was a search bar along the top, leaving only the standard banner on the main page.

“Did they say anything about a gacha change on the Special Program?” Looking over at Gene, you realize that they’ve already seen it.

“Give me a name.” They look over at you, hands positioned to type. "A five star.”

“I dunno.. Wanderer.” It soon pulls up the banner, which had passed a month or so ago. The gacha system is up and running for it. “Try an upcoming character.” You continue on this experimental run. Past and upcoming banners all show up, names of characters that haven’t released or been leaked yet.

Gene take out their phone to take a photo, and… nothing shows up. As far as their phone is concerned, the computer is dead. But it can’t be a hallucination, right? After all, you’re both seeing this.

“Well, let’s do a couple of pulls before lights out, hm?” Searching up Yoimiya, they do a quick ten pull. The blue stars streak across the screen, a purple one appearing along with it, melding into gold. The built up anticipation of the upcoming five star washes away as a familiar silhouette fills the screen. “Oh, Qiqi! I don’t have her yet!”

“Try again. You’ve been saving for Yoimiya for a while.” You set off on some of your own pulls, albeit with less success. Despite the guaranteed pity, you land in a web of Mona, Jean, and Tighnari constellations. And soon enough, you’ve stayed up much later than you intended.

Gene’s soft breathing cues you in that it’s gotten far later. Glancing into the kitchen, you see that the stove reads 11:10. Looking down at your friend, you grab the throw blanket and lay it over them, then beginning to shut down the game. Yawning, you close out of the gacha system and open up the menu, Paimon doing her usual tricks on the side. The exit game icon is gone.

Probably another new update that you missed. Too tired to figure it out, you opt to just shut down the desktops instead. The screens go white, the line up of elements blinking a pale grey before becoming a bright gold light.

You close your eyes tightly at the invasion of harsh light, flinching back from the desktops instinctively. Your ears ring, and you hear Gene stirring due to the light. Reaching out blindly, your hand comes into contact with something… warm. It grabs your hand harshly, jerking you forwards as you reach back, grabbing Gene for support. Then the tight grip on your arm releases.

You open your eyes. Your apartment is gone, replaced by a soft golden light around you. Below you is a vast world, extensive landscapes and cities sprawled beneath you, with the subtle shapes of people in the lights between buildings. The night of this world is beautiful. Gene grasps for your hand and you look over at them. Face filling with concern, they can only mouth their words. Where are we?

#sagau #genshin sagau #genshin impact #genshin

113 notes · View notes

a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 2 years

Note

Hi! I was wondering if you could do a request (WHEN YOUR NOT BUSY) about prince nuada where he meets the reader at the station when the fighting is over and she’s like a beast tamer humming lullabies to tooth fairies and other dangerous things like that?? ☺️❤️

Hello! I'm not sure what sort of theme you wanted, so I stuck to a soft/fluff/kind of angsty at the begining enemies to possible lovers theme. I hope you like it.

The beast tamer and the prince

Pairing: Nuada x Fem. Reader (Parts human and elf | Beast tamer)

Word count: 823 words

Themes : Some angst, maybe | Soft | Fluff | Enemies to lovers

Warnings : None

Want to be tagged? Want to know the reader request rules? Read all here

If you like this, please consider giving it a reblog. Thank you!

p.s. the bit with the wife and tea and biscuits was inspired by a scene between Sheldon and Penny, on The Big Bang Theory.

Nuada returns to his palace in an abandoned station after a brutal few weeks, helping Hellboy and the BPRD fight and defeat Nimue, the Blood Queen.

He’s completely exhausted, lost to the world, and not paying any attention to what is happening around him. Due to this, he misses the baby tooth fairies trailing him, looking for their first meal. Only when they take off and come after him does Nuada realize he’s been targeted as prey. He whips out his spear, ready to defend himself. Except that nothing happens, save for someone singing in a language Nuada has not heard in over nine millennia. As this eerie, otherworldly tune floats through the tunnels, Nuada looks around, his ears twitching. The tooth fairies looked dazed, not moving, barely even breathing. It was as if they were hypnotized. When he demanded you show yourself, you do, armed with only a strange flute and your own voice.

He discovers you are half mortal and half elf, a descendant of a long-forgotten line of beast tamers who once worked for King Balor. Nuada is shocked, as everyone thought your clan was wiped out by the great wars of seven thousand BC, when the Golden Army marched against the armies of men. The tattoos on the inside of your right forearm showed otherwise, as only those who have proven their gifts to the clan elders could receive such tattoos.

Despite his reservations, Nuada assists you in capturing the tooth fairies and transporting them to an off-realm reserve where they will not harm anyone. He asks you to live with him as royal etiquette decreed such an invitation, as repayment for saving his life.

The giant troll lives with him, Mr. Wink, takes to you in a heartbeat. Nuada, on the other hand, keeps you at arm's length. He is cold and aloof, as is his personality, and always high prince to everyone else. And he insists on being treated as such.

This infuriates you, and the two of you constantly butt heads and trade insults. Usually, these insults revolve around epithets such as prig from your end, and wasp-tongued-viper from his end. Even after the two of you cooled off with the insults, bickering would follow whenever you were together. Quests to capture another beast or creature on behalf of the BPRD would always end up with the two of you bickering like an old married couple. At least, that's what Abe believes.

"If we were married," Nuada would say, "The wife would bring me tea and biscuits in the evening."

"You hate my tea," you'd retort. "And we have no biscuits."

"My wife would keep them on hand."

"Your wife demands a divorce."

"Wonderful," Nuada would say without missing a beat. "On the way back from the temple, could you stop by the troll market and pick up some Bethmoran rose biscuits for my afternoon tea?"

Epic huffs and eye-rolls will abound. Hellboy would ask if the two of you needed a room. Nuada would shiver in horror. You'd look at Hellboy like he had grown another head. The two of you would skulk off in different directions.

In time, however, mutual respect blooms between the two of you.

Nuada comes to appreciate your skills, for it means children of the old gods no longer have to be killed unless absolutely necessary. He starts fighting in your corner during BPRD meetings, backing you up against Manning and his orders.

You come to respect Nuada's love for his family and his people, his willingness to go to great lengths to protect them and keep them safe.

The two of you have saved each other's lives more times than either of you can count.

Nuada comes to find your nicknames for mythical creatures all rather amusing.

Tooth fairies you call: Teethcinerators.

And dragons are called: Winged fire breathing danger noodles.

Unicorns, on the other hand, end up being called: Rage ponies, given their violent and unpredictable nature.

These nicknames end up being used by him and many others at the BPRD, much to Manning's eternal frustration.

You teach Nuada how to charm animals just by using his voice. He tries it on Mr. Wink. Mr. Wink ends up in a trance for two days, and you go through every book you have to get him out of it.

Mr. Wink was naturally unhappy about it, and complained about it for weeks.

You realize Nuada has the most beautiful voice you have ever heard, and you come up with every conceivable excuse to get him to sing.

Nuada catches on to your tricks but finds them all rather endearing.

"If you just want to hear me sing, y/n, you need only ask."

You go red in the face and flee his presence.

Nuada decides to talk to his father about you.

King Balor approves, and insists on meeting the person who brought about such positive changes in his son.

#asks #reader request #reader insert #prince nuada #prince nuada x reader #nuada x reader #nuada imagine #hellboy #hellboy imagine #head canon #fanfiction #writeblr #enemies to lovers

407 notes · View notes

harrysmimi · 2 years

Text

Puppy Face

Synopsis: One where Harry gets his second promised date

Series Masterlist | More of my work

Sunday morning,

YN was going to work her weekend shift today to fill in for one of her colleagues. They were always short staffed on weekends.

Opening up was the only thing she hated about her job. She has to wake up at five-thirty in the morning, go to the cafe by seven and get place ready for it to open up at nine in the morning.

It's been two whole weeks and couple of days over since her date with Harry. They have been texting back and forth non stop since, staying up on video calls at late at night.

Now it was sure the second date was something to happen and she wanted it to be on her. So she picked up her phone the first thing when her alarm went off to text him asking if he was free today.

- Good Morning!

YN didn't know why she was waited five whole minutes staring at her phone to see those three dots appear on her screen. He was offline and it was it was half past five in the morning and as far as she knew, he'd returned just yesterday afternoon from LA. He was there for his movie premiere.

Frustrated about having to wake up early she wanted to throw her phone across the room. But she opted not to, she bought it very recently and it was expensive. She placed her phone carefully on the side table as she went to get ready and leave her house by seven-thirty.

At around ten she went back to the break room to have her breakfast. Harry still hadn't texted her back. Sadly she shoved pancake in her mouth, she had to eat as she couldn't skip her medications.

Why is she feeling so many emotions since she woke up?

But he never takes more than ten minutes to respond. Or when he's busy he'd send in a little apology and a promise to get back as soon as he can. He must be sleeping but he's told her he never sleeps past nine. And it was nearing to afternoon now. It worried her but also made her a teeny bit upset.

Luckily for her the cafe was very busy today, it kept her distracted. She better get her overtime for this or she is going to flip out. Busy house also meant more entitled customers which was annoying her more and more. And Harry is yet to text her back!

"Stop it YN! Calm down!" She mumbled to herself going back to the break room after dealing with a very annoying customer who wasted an hour and half of her time, "you're okay! You're okay!"

"YN? You alright?" Her manager approached her.

"Yeah, I am." She nodded, ,thank you Jennifer, she was just so annoying."

"I know, just take some time to yourself yeah? I'll fill in for you meanwhile." She offered.

"Yeah, I just need five minutes." YN agreed.

This was really beautiful thing about working where YN worked. Everyone was just so respectful of each other. All employees taking upon themselves to make the work environment as humble and warm as possible. Not to mention the manager is a sweetheart!

She was about to head back to work when her phone chimed four times with the usual happy tune. It was half past three now. Way past her lunch time and her day was falling apart like a puff pastry. All it took to put it back together was a text she was waiting for.

H💚

- Hello my darling, good afternoon!

- I am sorry I slept in late

- Just woke up to your text

- Why were you up at 5.30?

He slept till this late? YN wondered. He must have been really tired then. That little pet name warmed her heart so much.

- Hiya!

- No, it's okay!

- I have work today. Had to open today.

- How are you?

H💚

- A little tired from the flight thank you for asking <3

She smiled at the little heart. Feeling proud to be one to introduce him to different emojis. He was confused seeing the emoji made of a mathematical symbol and number.

- Do you have any plans today?

She pressed the send button nervously. She has been thinking about this from last week since he left for his movie promotion, first in New York and then in LA.

H💚

- No. Not yet.

Okay! So now she's gonna have to do it. She sat down to keep herself calm. She typed her questions all three times, rephrasing it to the perfection. Listen, English is not her first language and she hasn't asked anyone on a date.

- Do you want to come over for dinner at mine?

H💚

- What's the occasion? :))

God he's annoying sometimes! What was the occasion? Nothing. There was no occasion. Can a date be an occasion?

- Nothing...

- I was going to make Biryani tonight

That's the truth. She was. Only if he agrees though because it wouldn't be worth the work just for herself.

H💚

- I'd like me some Biryani!

- Especially if you're making it

"Awe!" She found herself cooing at her phone like an complete idiot! Shaking her head she typed her response.

- Okay. Would 8.30 work for you?

She pressed send.

H💚

- Works for me.

- See you tonight then, yeah?

YN is very excited.

- see ya xx

She finally locked her phone and just as she was about to place it back in the safe shelf before get back to work it chimed again. Another text from Harry.

H💚

- Is this a date?

God! He is so cheeky!

- Of course it is! Do you want it to be?

She could imagine him giggling at his phone just like she is right now.

H💚

- oh! Did I sent it?

YN laughed audibly loud earning a weird confused look from her manager, but she smiled and got back to her work. That's what she ended up saying

- No! I am a psychic :)

H💚

- hahahaha cheeky!

- I'll see you tonight love xx

YN locked her phone and finally placed it back in the safe shelf in the break room.

"Jen, can I clock out an hour early today?" She asked.

"Sure, if you want to." The blonde nodded in agreement. YN nodded and walked to the till to continue her work.

......................................................................

YN went back home all giddy and happy. After a short shower - she sure smelled like coffee after she accidentally drenched herself with espresso today and ruined one of her white T-shirt at the sleeves - she got to cooking.

It took her longer than she expected. Taking the risk to call her annoying grandma for a short recap of the recipe she taught her years ago. So add to the pile bad things happening to her today, she cut herself whilst making some salad. She was barely done by eight-thirty and Harry was already knocking on the door.

She looked around and found the mess of amazing box half open on her coffee table which arrived just after she reached home. It looked messy but she went to get the door as it would be impolite to make him stand and wait outside. She also forgot to feed McFish.

"Hey you," Harry beamed when she opened the door.

"Hey you," she stepped aside he can get in and she can shut the door. He tackled her with a bear warm embrace at the door wrapping his arms around her middle. Serotonin clouded her brain feeling him smooshing his face in her hair but she wasted no time in returning the affectionate gesture draping her own arms around his shoulders.

"I missed you." He mumbled not willing to let go of her. She wouldn't lie she did too. She missed seeing his beaming face as he walked into the cafe every morning in person. Hearing his raspy deep voice every morning which readied her to face those annoying customers who walked through the threshold everyday without a fail.

As a fan she really liked seeing him everyday. But she still treated him like every other of her customers assuming it must be pretty frustrating for him being given special treatment just solely based on his social status. She just gree to be good friends with him, like few other people who visited who also went to the same college as hers but were her juniors or seniors. She just especially looked forward to seeing him everyday. And she indeed missed that, a little too much for her liking.

"I missed you too." She cooed and reluctantly pulled away from his arms remembering there is food on the stove. "Come in please, I need to check on the food."

"Mhmm." He nodded and took off his shoes placing them neatly on the side. He walked in.

His second time here and he could still smell the same incense he came across last time but he couldn't quite put his mind at what it was, sandal wood and roses he could smell. No doubt that's what gives her home a zen feel making it much more cosy. He could also smell the fresh spices and fragrant rice in the air. He went to greet His Highness, McFish.

"Can I feed him?" He asked, after a good couple minutes of silence. He was sat on the same chair as before looking at her fish.

"Hmm?" YN looked up at him from the kitchen, the small kitchen Island separated kitchen from the living room.

"Your fish," he said, "can I feed him?"

"Oh sure, I forgot to do that today." She nodded.

"How much do you give him always?" He picked up the blue jar of food which was neatly kept next to the aquarium along with a green and red one.

Even fishes eat different flavours of food? He found that amusing.

"Just half a pinch, or less." She shared, "it's easy to over feed them."

"Mhmm." He acknowledged her information as he proceeded to lift up the lid of the aquarium seeing the fish already swim up to the top. He dropped in a few palettes of his in the water being careful of the water filter.

"You can turn off the filter and oxygen until he eats." YN said, she was still checking up on the food he found.

"Okay." He nodded and turned the switch off. It made sense, if the fish isn't fast enough all his food could be sucked in by the water filter. Lastly he closed the lid back up.

YN was finally done. "Food is done, do you want to eat now?"

"Yeah," he agreed. "Lemme help you." He walked over to her.

"No it's fine." She protested.

"No, I want to!" He's stubborn, amd picked up the bowl of veggies chopped up in nice perfect cubes, drenched in something white - it must be some kind of cream, mayo? Yogurt? Curd? He didn't know but it looked delicious and he was a little hungry to be honest. "I'll take these." He took the places and the bowl of salad out to the table. YN brought in another bowl with Biryani she made, and water.

"Oh, you need a spoon? YN asked realising she haven't got any utensils apart from the serving spoon.

"Hey, what happened to your hand?" He asked distracted seeing a tissue paper wrapped around her finger as a make shift band-aid.

"I cut myself, it's fine." She shared. "I don't have any band-aid so I just wrapped this around my finger."

"You could have been careful!" He scolded her rightfully being mad. Grabbing her hand he made her sit on the spare chair pulling his own next to hers, he fetched for his wallet in his back pocket and took out a band-aid from it. "It's such a deep wound YN!" He glanced at her with his brows furrowed after he took off the tissue paper around her finger, to replace it with an actual band-aid.

He felt so bad that she hurt herself cooking for him and her. Though he was very well aware that she cooks at home everytime, accidents happens for him to feel a little a mad and upset about it.

"It doesn't happen often with me, I was talking to Brielle, my friend on the phone and it just... Happened." She shrugged, staring at him as he seemed much more concentrated on tending to her teeny tiny wound which didn't even hurt that much. She found it amusing how he carried spare Band-aids around with him in his wallet.

She couldn't fathom how pretty he is! Even more prettier in person inside and out, come on he's tending to her teeny tiny wound like it's a very big deal!

She looked at him how he blew soft air on her finger as he carefully wrapped the band-aid around ther tip where she'd cut herself. She wondered if he was wearing a tinted lip balm that his lips so pink and plush and soft. Would this it be too early to ask if she could kiss him?

They've been on Just one date apart of this one!

It shouldn't...

She was pulled out of her thoughts when he finally spoke: "Be careful next time, okay?" He looked at her giving her all his attention as she looked at him with a puppy face. He swore he was just a hair away from kissing that pout off her mouth. "What were you saying before?"

"Oh, I was asking if you need spoon." She repeated.

"We were going to eat with our hands?" He was confused.

"Traditionally, yes, but I can get you-"

"No, it's okay." He interrupted her politely, wanting to indulge into her world in a way, "I can try eating with my hand!"

"Okay, then go wash your hands." She chuckled at his excitement, she still got him a spoon if he changes his mind.

"How was you day, love?" He enquired as he took his seat again moving his chair back in front of her across the table.

"I don't know honestly." She shrugged, "can't explain. But this one lady just bickered with me for like an hour and half. God, I was so pissed!" She rolled her eyes.

"I'm sorry that happened," he cooed, "this is very delicious by the way!"

"Oh, thank you!" YN felt flattered by his compliment. She wasn't very great at cooking, but she made decent food. "Is it too spicy for you?" She smiled at him watching him eat with his hands, she never imagined to see him like that but he warmed her heart in a cool way.

"Tiny bit," he agreed. "What?"

"Nothing," she shook her head breathing out a subtle laugh, "you just look cute and all."

"Hey, I'm trying!" He whined.

"I did not say you aren't!" She defended. Shaking his head Harry got back to eating.

"Do you work tomorrow?" He asked.

"Yeah, got another early shift." She shared, "why?"

"I, ehm, got tickets to this, ehm museum, they have an art exhibition. One of my friend's gonna have her collection displayed there." He stuttered, but proceeded with a suggestion, "thought you'd maybe wanna go with me?"

"Oh," was her reaction. YN isn't really into art but she would be willing to go with him. "You sure about that?"

"Mhmm. Why wouldn't I?"

"No, I am sorry, I didn't meant it in a wrong way." She rushed, "I mean it is going to be pretty crowded there surely. I meant, would you really want me to go with you?"

God! She could feel her heart thumping in her ears. Yes, she is rightfully anxious. The museum is surely going to crowded, and he have been sighted by his fans there even when he's alone many times. It made her anxious. The internet made her anxious even though she haven't even agreed on going with him yet.

"It's okay." He assured her, "I understand, haven't really talked about it with you yet and it's fine with me if you don't want to go. Maybe next time? But it's okay."

"Harry, I do want to go, I'm just a bit anxious." She explained, "I'm sorry if I made you upset."

"No love, it's alright with me." He reassured her, "really it is, okay? You don't have to worry about it all, there are no cameras allowed there at the exhibition. I know it is still going to be inevitable to avoid them, but I promise you that you won't have to worry about it."

"Okay," she sounded, "would you be fine with that, I mean if there are any lurking cameras around there?"

"Of course I would be," he agreed in a heartbeat, "I took you out two weeks ago, didn't I?"

"Mhmm."

"This a bit sad honestly, to have even have this conversation." He started, "but this really just comes with my choice career. I've learned it's only going to be obvious if we make it obvious, and I don't want that. Not this soon at least."

YN felt that eerie feeling in her stomach you get when you know you're in some kind of trouble. That eerie bad and anxious feeling of making someone upset or sad even unintentionally. The feeling of nothing but cold air filling in your abdominal cavity.

He smiled before he continued, dimples denting into both his cheeks, "I like you a lot, if it's not been obvious until now." He searched her face watching her bite the inside of her cheeks nervously. Being caught, she just proceeded to stuff her face with food to fight the awkwardness. "I've had a crush on you since the say I saw you. Your little stutters really caught my eyes. Obviously you know I was but I never once felt differently treated by you, and I really liked that." That's the longest YN has heard him speak without his ehm's and uhh's stutters.

"I just really want to be selfish and cherish that for as long as I can to myself." He confessed, "I also don't mind if I'm seen with you or whatever. Honestly couldn't give two fucks about what people have to say anymore."

YN chuckled at the closing statement of his little vulnerable speech, "I like you too, Harry, really. You know I've been a fan of your music, so thank you for trusting me enough to let me a part of your life."

"I should be thank you," he corrected her, "for respecting my privacy anddd making this amazing food!" He finally took another bite of his food after his speech.

"You're very welcome Harry, just ring me up if you want to eat anything else. Anytime" YN said, "my friends call me up everytime anyway." She found it was better to subtly move the conversation to something else. It was going to be way too overwhelming for her, she had felt way too many emotions today to add more of her perspective on this. She could say that any other time, maybe tomorrow even, but not in that moment.

"Yeah? That's because you make really good food, love," he agreed with her friends there. "What time do you get off tomorrow?"

"I have early shift so..." she reminded and calculated her shift hours in her head for a moment, "I should be done by afternoon."

"So we can go after lunch then, yeah?" He suggested, "it won't be as crowded then, I guess."

"Works for me." She agreed. "Did I forget something?" She looked at the table confused.

"I don't know..." Harry shrugged.

"Oh, oh, the dessert!" She exclaimed, "how can I forget that?" She was already halfway in the kitchen licking her fingers, she pulled something out of the fridge and something off the country and managed to balance two Tupperware containers and two small bowls with a clean serving spoon to the table. "I made this last night before I went to and this is just store bought."

"What's that?" Harry was pretty curious.

"This is Rasgulla - or Rasgulle for plural - and Gulabjamun which I made." She pointed each dessert out, proudly. "Finally, got it right this time! These are too difficult to make for some reason for me."

"Oh, what's it made of?"

"Same ingredients surprisingly, paneer which is cottage cheese and a tiny bit of flour, one of it has got some dry fruits in it."

"Sounds amazing!" He mused.

......................................................................

After dinner and dessert (which Harry loved so much!), Harry helped YN with the dishes even though she told him not to. Turning on the TV and her pet fish's water filter on they both sat on the sofa watching the movie he picked. Harry Potter he chose.

"I've never seen these." YN confessed as she sat down in the corner placing a water bottle on the coffee table.

"You've never watched Harry Potter before?" He looked at her as if she killed his pet hamster.

"No..." She hesitated, "why?"

"How have you never watched Harry Potter?" He looked hurt, or acting to be hurt.

"I just never found it interesting enough." She admitted, "my elder brother sister are obsessed though, and so are all of my younger siblings." Yeah, she's always been the odd one out in her family. As the middle child that fit ber very well.

"You still want to watch it?" He asked, letting go of the teasing.

"Yeah, it's fine I can sit through the first one." She shrugged.

"No we're watching something else," he handed the remote, "pick something."

"Okay," she took it and played Spiderman: Far From Home. "Are you going to be in the next Eternals?" She spoke about halfway through the movie, now sat comfy with a throw blanket, her legs draped over Harry's with his hands warming up ber knee through the thick fabric of sweats, she leaned back with her elbow perched up on a pillow, her cheek smooshed against her knuckles.

"Yeah, we start filming next year." He shared, "though I'm not allowed to share this."

"It's okay, you're secrets are safe with me." She smiled, he smiled back watching TV.

God, he is just so pretty to look at!

She could die, he was that pretty. Honestly she wouldn't hesitate to obsess over him but she's way too much of a little coward to do so. Plus she thinks she would come out as weird especially considering he knows that she's been his fan since his solo career started. Maybe when they're comfortable enough with each other? Maybe a in a few weeks? Or months if they last? Or maybe when he finally says he wants her to be his girlfriend? Just too many maybes! Urgh!

He was made first of his mold she decided, even his side profile looked gorgeous. His lashes curling up to his brow bone, the straight slant of his pointed nose which she love how it dances as he talks. For the second time this night she found herself wanting so badly to kiss him. Even if on his dimpled cheek.

Harry felt her staring at him obviously, "love, you're staring."

"What? No, I'm not!" She was snapped out of her little admiring session, lying from the tip of tongue. She felt heat rush under her skin as be back to look at the TV watching Zendaya fight off the drones.

"I don't mind if you were." Harry teased her, and even though she wasn't looking at him anymore she could feel the smirk on his face through his voice. He laughed watching a red tint take over her complextion. "You look so pretty blushing!"

"Oh stop it!" She huffed whining making him laugh even more, she scooted to the corner pulling her knees close to her chest. "You're annoying!" Catching smirking at her short glance at him.

"Am I?" He tipped his head to side after he, "is it annoying that I find you pretty or me catching you staring at me, hm?" Her lips pressed in a thin line as she tried not to smile too much.

"You're annoying, in whole." She said, trying to get out of her embarrassment.

"Too late, sweetheart, we're already do dates in." He reminded her, "with a third one planned out. Can't back off now."

Fuck that hit her like bang!

She wasn't planning of backing off anytime soon. Not until he decides to otherwise. That melted her heart into a puddle.

"I wasn't planning to." She answered. He liked how she wasn't trying to hold back her smile. Searching her face he leaned in even closer.

"Yeah?" Harry sounded quite content with her answer, he reached for her hand carefully resting on her lap. "Gonna stay for as long as you feel fit?" His other hand cradled her face slipping down, stopped on her neck.

"Mhmm." She nodded, feeling heebie-jeebie inside as he brought hand upto his mouth to place a delicate kiss on her knuckles, feeling the pad of his thumb rub softly against her jaw.

God! Her heart is going to burst in her chest cavity!

"Is it okay if we kiss?" She found herself finally speaking up instead of humming.

"Absolutely it is, my love!" His voice somehow went deeper as he looked her dead in her eyes. Watching her lean in that much closer he pulled her in with his hand slipping further on the her neck.

There it was, his mouth pressed onto her her bottom lip tucked into his two. The little touch felt so soft and intimate when it all lasted for a second. He didn't pull away, she could still feel his nose skimming against her cheek. She took her shot and pressed her mouth on his again, this one lingering longer than the first one. Even more special as it dawned on her in a beautiful way he is the first person she ever kissed!

Harry felt her small hand warm on his cheek, making him take it a bit further but he kept to himself and followed her lead. When she broke away he pulled her in a bear hug.

"God, I missed you all week!" He confessed as if it weren't the first thing he said to her today.

"I missed to too," she reciprocated, she leaned into his warmth especially when he was being so welcoming of her. Harry was extra cuddly with his hoodie on and sweats and the fluffy throw blanket they shared.

Next thing YN knew annoying loud noise of her alarm went off, still feeling warm like it was some fever dream of hers. But her alarm went off suddenly as she felt a warm hand running up and down her back.

"Hey love, your alarm just went off." Deep raspy voice spoke to her snapping her out of her sleep. It was really Harry. YN found herself basically lied on top of him with the throw over both of them, the TV switched off. "Good morning!"

"Good morning," she spoke pulling herself unwillingly away from him. She was definitely way too comfortable in the setting. "I'm sorry I fell asleep on you."

"It's alright," he assured her, "did you had a good sleep." He watched her stretch like a tired little kitten as she yawned.

"Yeah, a little too well." She admitted making him chuckle, "did you?"

"Mhmm! Of course I did." He confessed to. "You're going to work this early?"

"No, I leave by seven," she shook her head trying to shake off sleep from her eyes.

"Yeah? I'll drop you off on my home, you can go get ready."

"Mhmm thank you." She smiled. God she didn't wanted to drive today! "You can sleep in more meanwhile if you want."

YN had shut the door behind her to her bathroom. Oh god, she really did let someone stay a night over at her place!?

She couldn't believe herself there. YN's always been protective of her personal space. Especially since was kid. Growing up she had many questions to answer to, where was she going? Why aas she going? Where was she if she was late? What was she doing if she was late? Does she have guy friends? When she closed her bedroom door for more than hour what was she doing inside? Did she directly went to school and came straight back home? Did she need money? Why does she need money when she was provided everything at home? And what not!

It wasn't just her, even her elder sister had to answer all the questions. She's sure her little sister has to answer those too now.

One thing YN's sure about is that her friends are going to be go haywire when they find out. About Harry. About this. Hell she hasn't even allowed them to stay over for night since she moved there.

How and why did she fell asleep on him? Especially after they kissed!

But none the less thinking about all this she found herself all ready for the day. She'd chosen same brown pants she wore on the first date and white button down shirt with a black jumper on top. She'll have to work in this today.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?" He turned around to look at her, he was answering some texts.

"I left you a new toothbrush and a towel in, in the bathroom if you wanted to, ehm, get freshen up." She stuttered.

"Mhmm thank you, love." He smiled. God how casual is he going to be about this?

She went to make herself tea and him a coffee, she made herself a quick breakfast wrap to take along whilst waiting for Harry. She couldn't believe last night happened!

She so badly wanted to tell her friends like they share their things with her. But she opted not to, whilst Alec can digest any and all secrets, Brielle finds it difficult though YN would argue she's the most respectful person she's ever met. She will have to tell them eventually or they're going to be upset, even though she isn't entitled to share of her personal life stuff but those are her friends. They've been with her since last fifteen years!

"Hey, are you ready?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, almost! Here's your coffee." She handed him a reusable thermos cup.

"Oh thank you," he smiled walking upto her to give her a warm hug, "you're still up for today?"

"Yeah," she nodded leaning into him for a moment, he placed a kiss on her head.

"I'll pick you up by 12?" He suggested earning another nod from her, "you alright love?"

"Yeah," she nodded assuring him, "yeah, I am."

"You've got the whole puppy face going on, What's wrong?" He pointed out, booping the tip of her nose with his pointer finger. He noticed she'd packed her breakfast and two small containers with the desserts they had last night.

"I'll tell you on the way?" She suggested.

"Mhmm," he nodded.

They both got into his car. He drove for a bit in silence halfway through, giving her the time she needs to speak.

"I haven't told my friends about us yet." She confessed.

"Why so, darling?" He asked, sounding a bit upset and taken back. Instantly there were questions flooding through his mind.

"One of my friends is like... I don't know how to say it in English." She chuckled to lighten up the mood her little confess got him into, "she just can't digest secrets, basically she loves to gossip. Whilst I don't mind her talking about us, even on accident to anyone I don't know if you'll be fine with that. I know you sort to talked about similar... thing with me last night. But both of my friends would go haywire if they find out from somewhere else. So I'm just thinking about how I should tell then, or if I should even tell them."

"There is no pressure love, I don't mind if she talks about us to anyone." He shrugged, "you can tell 'em if you don't mind."

"You're fine with that?" She asked, "I mean, I know her but you know she talks alot and stuff like that but she won't say a word on purpose and-"

"YN, calm down please." He interrupted her, "I don't care if anyone knows, really. We don't have to hide, it's like we're committing a huge crime. We like each other, right?" He glanced at her for an answer and mumbled a little yes! so he continued, "there's nothing to worry about."

"Okay." She squeaked, "that really put me at ease."

"And we're here," he stopped his car on the side of the road. "I'm glad about that, sweetheart."

She hummed, "please take a nap you still look very tired Harry." She pointed out, seeing bags under his eyes and sleep puffed face.

"I'll go to bed early tonight, don't worry." Harry assured her, "now would you gimme a kiss before you go?" He was already leaning over the center console closer to her waiting, without a word uttered she leaned in to press her mouth on his into a long indulging kiss just like last night, her hand rested on his cheek. Enough to hold him off until he sees her again in the afternoon. "Take care okay?"

"I will." She unbuckled her seat belt and got out, "my colleague's here." She saw her colleague opening the door to the cafe already, "nap Harry, okay?"

"Aye!" He chuckled at her little scolding. Waving she jogged her way inside.

......................................................................

"It's very pretty in here!" YN exclaimed quietly looking around the museum. Yeah, she's a huge history geek but this never peeked her interest to spend her time at a historical museum.

"But not more than you." He gave his cheeky little remark. "The exhibition is on the other side, bht we can walk around here if you want."

"Yeah, I want that." She agreed. They walked around looking at the busts made of marbles, a few paintings and national souvenirs displayed around. She shared the little facts she knows about little pieces herr and there with Harry before they decided to see his friend's art collection.

"Did you tell your friends?" Harry enquired. He held her her close with arm wrapped around her waist. He carried her bag for her just so he can have her close to him as they walked around.

"Yeah, I did. I saw both of them today." YN shared, "Brielle said she won't share this with anyone unless we want that. And Alec is going to be here, his sister has her own art collection displayed here today."

"Oh, we should check that out too!"

They walked around and met Harry's friend who was super nice. And also super talented. Their paintings displayed were very beautiful, though YN didn't understood the meaning behind each one, she's not that artistic she decided. But the pieces of art work were easy on eyes and calming in a way she has never been before, she'd buy one herself if they weren't started from the price of her flat alone. She'll stick to buying cheap affiliated ones from Amazon until she can afford a real one.

"I don't see Alec around." She shared with Harry, "oh there he is."

"Hello YN!" Alec greeted YN with a hug.

"Hiya!" YN exclaimed hugging him back. "Harry this is one of my best friend, Alec. And Alec you know Harry."

"Oh yes, Hello." Alec greeted Harry with a hug too. "I didn't know my best friend could be this sneaky about literally dating her celebrity crush."

Harry chuckled, "nice meet you, Alec."

"Oh and please come take a look at my sister's art work too." The blonde suggested and walked Harry and YN to the other side of the room. Least tk say she was baffled by Hadleigh's art display. They talked for a long time there.

Harry was sure approached by a couple of his fans whom he talked to, but they couldn't take pictures as it was allowed in the exhibition due to copyright issues from the artists present there. He was so grateful for that in the moment, subtly but he won't admit it because he loves meeting his fans but he also likes his privacy.

"Is Brielle going to come?" YN asked.

"She's stuck at work, you know her boss is arsehole." Alec rolled his eyes.

"Oh okay." YN nodded.

......................................................................

YN wanted to look around the museum for a little longer so of course Harry was going to agree. He's just going to look at her and listen to her random facts. Though it was way past the lunch time.

"Oh-uh!" She sighed.

"What's wrong?" Harry followed her gaze to find a little family looking at displays just two aisles away in the Egyptian section.

"That's my sister and her family." YN shared.

"Oh," was his initial reaction, "do you want to go talk to her?"

"I, uh, it's fine." YN shrugged.

"I don't want to assume but do you not talk to her?" He wondered.

"It's not that..." She trailed off, "it's complicated. It's not her it's my parents that I don't like to talk to, if she sees me on a date they're gonna know for sure. If she doesn't tell them her husband for sure will."

"Why would you not want them to know?"

"I- Harry please don't take it in a wrong way! I'll tell share it with you little by little, okay? I don't have the greatest relationship with my parents. I have- I can't talk about it all in one go, it's very hard for me. It's, it's difficult for me open up like you did." She shared stuttering through her talk, a glassy sheen took over her eyes. "There is a reason why I live alone."

"Hey, I'm sorry —"

"I need five minutes." She excused herself interrupting him walking towards the bathrooms, taking her bag from him.

YN honestly doesn't know how to navigate through stuff like this. All this time she's solely focused on herself and herself only. Not bothering to go out on dates and stuff until upto recently before walked into her work place for the first time. Now that she had the time she wanted to open herself to more experiences, but no one stayed more than a date or two. She went on dates with five different people four of them wanted just a one night stand and other one ghosted her after the second date.

Harry stayed. Giving her that tiny hope back. They became good friends first which was a cherry on top for her. Now all she wanted to do was not make him uncomfortable in any way, shape or form just because she doesn't trust people who are in her life much. Her parents would make her life even harder if they found out she's seeing someone, especially when she's living alone.

She didn't trusted her own sister whom she loves so much. Her sister knows who Harry is, and from the sixteen years she spent with her family and relatives she knows how these kinds of news spread faster than wild fires.

She felt so confused as to where to start unpacking all of this to him without making it feel like she was dumping it all on him at once. Sure she's not even trying a bit to hide anything from him, she just needs time.

YN couldn't help but feel she's making him upset and mad about her anxiousness. Not wanting to let her mind wonder and talk to her therapist about it (he's the only person who knew about her seeing Harry everyday since he first walked in) instead she blinked pushing her tears back.

It was just too hard for her to see her sister there after a good few years.

"You're okay!" She mumbled to herself washing her hands in the sink, "shut the fuck up! You're okay, you're okay! It's fine. Talk to him!" She was bringing herself together there, with that she headed back out to go to look for Harry.

"C'mon," is the first thing he said when he saw her and walked her out to go to his car all the while holding onto her hand in a gentle grip. "I'm really sorry, love." He started once he got in the driver's seat next to her. "I just didn't wanted to assume that you're not on good terms with your family. Whilst I want to know more about you, I know it's none of my business to intrude. So it's completely fine if you never want to talk about it."

"You clearly looked upset about it." She pointed out, "I wasn't meaning to hiding all of this I just don't want to deal with my family because I know they're going to make a huge fuss about it!"

"It did made me upset but I didn't know." He admitted, "I am really sorry about that lovie," and he carefully reached for her hand in her lap, "we don't have to tell anyone, okay? I'm not gonna question anything or get upset like I did— that was very naïve of me—, we can just go about our days without thinking about it."

"Okay." She nodded. "I'm sorry too. It wasn't you that I ran to bathroom."

"That's okay love." He assured her.

"Hmm."

"Let's go to Hyde park and have a little picnic, hm?" He suggested already pulling out of the basement car park of the museum. "Would you mind placing an online order at Subway or something?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "You want sandwiches?"

YN found a little restaurant which served a variety of sandwiches so she placed a order a couple of different ones, and a tall hot chocolate for herself — Harry said he didn't need a drink, was fine with just water — for them to take away on thier way to the impromptu picnic.

"Think Gemma left her picnic blanket in me car last time," Harry opened the boot of his car, "there it is!" He announced taking out a brown and beige gingham blanket.

They both walked further in towards the park, finding a place quiet enough. Harry layed out the blanket on the grass before they both sat down. Winter month, the sun was getting ready set at just half past four. There was awkward silence taking over between them now as they ate away their very late lunch.

"You want a bite?" YN offered.

"Yeah," he agreed taking a bjte from her sandwich. Finally something to talk about! "Mmm do you want to switch?"

"No!" She got defensive, "just one bite."

"Meanie," he squinted his eyes at her but failed ending up chuckling. He picked up her hot chocolate to take a sip.

"Hey!" She whined. "Be polite gimme a bite of your sandwich now!"

"Here," without any other word he offered her his sandwich. "What are you doing for Christmas?"

"I don't do anything on Christmas... Work I guess?" She said as if questioning how she spends her holidays.

"You're working on Christmas?" He couldn't believe her, "no way you're not!"

"But it's fun!" She whined, "and I kind of need to get some over time in," smiling sheepishly she took a bite of her food.

"Why so?"

"It's embarrassing, moving—"

"Now I definitely I wanna know," he pressed, teasing her.

"Oh god no," she sighed, "the car I bought. It was like an impulsive purchase due to some family drama." He laughed explaining, "some people were talking shit about my job."

"And that is so slay!" He exclaimed, "happy for you bestie!"

"Thank you bestie!"

"No but seriously, YN I need you to take the day off for me, please?" Harry looked at her with a puppy face. "Please?"

"Okay, Christmas is a month away. I'll see what I can do." YN agreed.

"Okay." He leaned in a pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

They both talked about literally nothing to Harry's new music. They scrolled through some memes on her Instagram. Least to say Harry wasn't surprised seeing his own memes on her explore page, that just showed how insanely funny his fans are to him.

"Wait? What was that?" He saw a video on her home which she swiftly scrolled by.

"No, it's embarrassing!" She whined when he took the device from her hand and scrolled back to the video. It was her friend, Alec's account he saw, he'd posted a few throw back pictures and videos. There was a video of YN, Alec and who he assumed must be Brielle singing. The ginger boy with a guitar and behind a keyboard as they sang Gorgeous by Taylor Swift.

"Huh? And you said you can't sing?" He scoffed confusedly.

"I literally can't."

"Look there is another one!"

"Oh my god, Harry!" YN tackled him to get her phone back knowing very well he's just trying to annoy her now. And he did just that going through her own account and checking her posts for the rest of their time outside.

N O T E:

Pls do leave a review! I love you xx

Tag list:

@vrittivsanghavi @buckymydarlingangel @sweetwritingfanficfriend @theroosterswife24 @sleutherclaw @melllinaa @michellekstyles @sunshinemoonsposts know if you want to added to the tag list

482 notes · View notes

l-lend · 1 year

Text

Creator Self-Promotion

Rules: post the first lines of your last 10 fics you posted. If you have less than 10 fics posted, post the first lines of all your fics.

"But K, I don't write but I still create can I still play?"

Post your last 10 pieces and give us a play by play. What was the inspiration? Any fun facts you can share with us?

Anyway let's get on with it

1. Fishing for Compliments - Merman!Crosshair x F!Reader

A sigh passed the young woman’s lips as the sun began to disappear beneath the waves. The waves rocked her quaint vessel as if it were a mother soothing her child. Her meal as well as a plate of identical food remained untouched as she kept her gaze to the depths. Every ripple of its surface a reminder of the mounting minutes that her company kept her waiting.

2. Drop Me a Line - Wrecker x F!Reader

The young woman stifled a yawn as she continued to work the mass of dough to her standards to be plopped into pans to bake. She continued working the dough sparing glances to the chrono on the wall as the sky outside began to lighten with the sunrise. Her pulse spiked when the chrono was checked again. She abandoned the lump of dough as she snatched up a pastry box. The bell chiming as the door opened and closed.

3. Budding Romance - Rex x F!Reader

“And you’re sure you’ll have them there.”

“A bit of faith would be nice, Anakin.”

4. Skin in the Game - Wrecker x OC (Rina) (18+ Please view responsibly)

Wrecker was on the hunt. Thankfully the Marauder held only a few spaces to hide away as he searched the ship. His target tucked away by the sensors. Vibroblade twirling between his fingers while his idle gaze stared at the screen. The demolitions expert took a breath, hoping to find answers.

5. Hair Support - Tup x Reader

The days of the Clone Wars tended to drag on in between assignments. Thankfully, the Republic saw it fit to dispatch your research team with a clone legion escort to ensure the lush jungle planet would not eat you and your colleagues alive. It was in the sweltering heat of the afternoon that one of your study binges was interrupted. You shook your head knowing who dared tread into your tent.

6. Interrogations - Echo x F!Reader (18+ Please view responsibly)

The former arc trooper sighed. Another fruitless attempt at slipping free of his bonds. The chair he was bound to chilled any amount of exposed skin. The room kept dark to prevent him from gathering his bearings. He bided his time, waiting for the tell-tale clicking of his keeper. It was a whisper at first but grew louder as the automatic doors parted.

7. Personal Tastes - Hunter x F!Reader

Strands of meat sizzled and spat as she flipped the tangled mass. Her work distracting from the pair of eyes watching you from the doorway. Her culinary tasks from the staccato chops of a knife to peppers to the accented clink of a mortar and pestle offered a calming tune.

8. Just This Once, Everyone Lives - Rex x Reader

Your bottom lip remained captured between your teeth as the speeder came to a stop. The building looming over the city streets twinkled in the night. A beacon for personnel to gather while dressed to the nines. A hand curled around yours, smoothing over your knuckles.

9. Keep Away - UniversityAU Wrecker x Reader

You filed out with your fellow undergrads as your last class for the afternoon let out. the professor's voice offering mention of the end of the first sprint. You traversed amongst the student body's current before veering off to a corridor. The current loosening its grasp the closer you ventured toward the sanctuary of paper and ink.

10. Nothing Fight - Crosshair x F!Reader

It could be easy to say Clone Force 99 had a culture separate from the sea of clones. Clone medics would be reassigned in the blink of an eye and nat born medics often assigned whoever pissed off the higher ups. This led to your current long term assignment. Having a medic on board being the main reason one of your patients was released to his squad early pending observations.

NPT - @photogirl894 @rain-on-kamino @tecker @techs-stitches @littlemissmanga @annwayne @fakegingerrights @merkitty49 @moodymisty @starrylothcat

Wanna promote your work here too? Do it!

#self promo chain

141 notes · View notes

renegade-skywalker · 3 months

Text

Experiments in Idle Pleasures

Summary:

Merit pays Gale a visit in his study with the intention of surprising him with dinner but ends up providing a welcome distraction instead. Set post-game.

Word Count: 4,480

Rating: E

Notes:

Not required reading but I mention a pair of enchanted rings here from my other fic, A Soft Proposal, which this acts as a bit of an unofficial but spicy sequel to, that provides a little more backstory on how I imagine the rings to work, though you can parse out how they function if you only read this one anyway ;)

~~~

It was the first time in weeks Merit found herself in the throes of possession.

Her fingers spirited over her lyre, an unwritten song summoned unbidden from her fingertips as if she’d known its melody already, intimately familiar with its every intonation. Pen to parchment could hardly keep up. Her palms were smudged with ink as she committed each verse to paper and hoped her handwriting accurately translated every bit of inspired scrawl.

It came in parts.

First was the melody, its inherent theme emerging as every note was simultaneously played as if just-discovered yet also intimately-known. And then came the verses, hymnals and mismatched bits of poetry inherent to the song itself but not yet stitched together in the proper order, its words needing finessing, its structure needing bolstering, its overarching story needing a careful hand and even more fine-tuned ear.

She thought it had taken all afternoon, but before she knew it the room had grown dark and the warm sea breeze from the open window had grown cold. At first Merit thought night had crept up on her, midnight upon her when she was only expecting it to be four o’clock at the latest. But after glancing at the device on the far side of the room she realized it wasn’t quite as late but also not nearly as early. It was almost nine.

Papers scrawled with notes and semblances of song scattered about the room in the oncoming gale from outside, rain beginning to patter at the windowpane.

Gale, her mind echoed, thinking of the rain but also of her love, still tucked away in his study upstairs. Gale.

Similarly enraptured by his own life’s work, it appeared that the time had slipped Gale’s mind as well, though it wasn’t the worst thing that could happen. Merit hadn’t gotten so lost in a song in ages and she was glad to find Gale so buried in work that he no longer found himself pacing in whatever room she happened to be in, biting a nail and running a nervous hand through his hair as he recounted every possible minute misfortune that might befall his new tenure at Blackstaff Academy, his anxiety from so long a time away mostly attributed to his desire for his every lecture to be absolutely perfect and without pause, an ease Merit soothed would come with practice - not unlike her singing and songwriting.

Merit continued scrambling about the room collecting her things as she thought of him. The room was one Gale set aside to have her design entirely as she wished upon moving back to Waterdeep. He’d taken a thoughtful approach to her moving in with him, proposing that she have some say in the entire tower’s decor and overall appearance since it would now be a place they shared (with Tara’s input as well, of course), but this room was hers and hers alone.

It once housed my very impressive, though perhaps rather hoardsome, collection of Weave-touched objects, Gale had recounted with a wan smile upon showing it to her for the first time, barren save for the dust motes floating in the idle shafts of sunlight that filtered through the window. It would bring me nothing but joy for it to be entirely yours now, to do with as you wish. This room was empty long before my rather timely abduction, so perhaps by some serendipitous twist of fate this space was always meant to be yours.

Merit smiled at the memory, the warmth of it sating her as she closed the windows against the encroaching storm. The room still smelled of salt air as she closed the panes against the suddenly insistent rain, relishing in the sound and the smell of it as the petrichor intensified from the balcony just outside. Thinking the better of it, Merit left one pane ajar if only to let the scent in before she finally left the room and descended to the kitchens.

Not her usual domain other than on quiet mornings when sleep failed her and the dream of baking bread filled in her dreamless gaps, Merit tiptoed her way around the space as if trespassing, which it very much felt like. Though she knew the larder by heart, its every nook and cranny known to her at this point, she dared not disrupt the unspoken spell of a system Gale had placed upon the space - which was to say there wasn’t any actual spell placed on it, only his incredibly meticulous organizational preference insisted on every facet of the room and its contents. So instead of altering anything, she spied the soup Gale had prepared in the cauldron above the hearth the day before, still covered, smiling at its remaining wealth before deciding to heat it up and warm a few rolls of her own sourdough along with it before finally retreating upstairs with a generous slab of butter and a honeyed cup of tea to bring it all together.

Merit rapped gently at Gale’s study door, counting to ten before knocking again and almost instantly hearing a rushed but quiet Come in, come in.

He often did this. He’d hear the door but doubt himself as he kept on reading or writing, awaiting a rejoining rap at the wood before answering as if never quite believing his own senses when drawn so deeply into his work. Upon his invitation, Merit nudged the door open with her foot and slid inside with the serving tray as leverage, careful not to tip anything over as she finally slipped inside. She set the tray on the nearest surface clear of clutter, which was an endeavor in and of itself, and took it upon herself to light a few more candles as she bit back a knowing smile, eyeing Gale’s already squinting eyes in the scant light as he scribbled in one book whilst having his nose pressed in another.

“I made dinner,” she proffered lightly. "Well, you did, technically. Yesterday."

Gale mumbled something indecipherable as he wrote some more, discerning his notes before reconsidering his source material, his bespectacled eyes looking from one set of words to the other twice over before eventually acknowledging Merit.

“Dinner?” he asked absently, “ But it’s only-”

His eyes finally glanced sideward out his study room window, realizing that what he had presumed to be afternoon was now already well past night.

“Huh,” was all he said as Merit took the bowl from her serving platter and placed it in his unsuspecting but welcome hands.

“This is the soup you made yesterday,” Merit said, at first referring to the bowl’s contents before also passing him the bread and butter, “It’s thickened into a bit of a stew over the hearth so I warmed this to go along with it.”

Gale looked dumbfounded at both the bowl and the bread before looking up imploringly at Merit who hung over his shoulder like a parrot atop a pirate, only instead of echoing his every command her only intention was to make sure he began eating.

“You’re starving,” she insisted as she pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Trust me.”

Gale laughed a hollow, tired laugh as she pressed her lips to his temple.

“Thank you,” he said, a begrudging resignation lacing his voice though not out of indignance but instead of appreciation, forever a man too proud to say he’d lost track of the time but forever indebted to a woman intent on feeding him anyway. To think of how many nights Gale went without a proper meal despite his inherent skill whenever Tara wasn’t around to insist otherwise or at least remind him of the time almost made Merit sick with a retroactive worry. “Truly.”

“Make no mention of it,” Merit said, insistent, “Just-”

But before she could finish her thought, Gale raised a hand and reached for her lowering head, bringing her face back towards his as she leaned over him so he could kiss her again but properly this time.

Their mouths inverse, Gale pressed an eager kiss to Merit’s still half-smiling mouth, this time parting her lips with an eager tongue. Allowing him passage, Merit melted against him though she had no idea what possessed him. Not that she minded either way.

Merit finally pulled out of their kiss if only because the arch of her neck was starting to ache, though she would gladly go on kissing Gale forever despite it.

“I don’t want to distract you,” she said in a whisper, her lips brushing against his. “But-”

Before she could finish, Gale deposited his dinner atop the desk as he twisted in his chair and grabbed her gently but firmly by the waist, his hands nearly clawing at the fabric there as he pulled Merit onto his lap.

“What if I could use a good distraction?” he asked in a low husky voice, his eyes mischievous over the rim of his glasses. “Plus, you’re too good to me. I need to return the favor.”

“It was the least I could do,” Merit obliged as she slipped her arms around Gale’s neck, biting down on her bottom lip at the sight of him, always fond of how he looked in glasses. “You really ought to consider raising your bar a little.”

Gale pressed a kiss to her temple, lingering there as he relished in the scent of her.

“You’ve raised the bar plenty,” he said before nuzzling against her head.

Merit softened beneath his touch, leaning her head further against his as she hummed pleasantly under her breath.

“What are you working on?” she asked in a half-whisper. “Going well, I hope?”

Gale sighed into a smile against her cheek, making Merit feel warm all over.

“Exceedingly well, in fact, even though I’ve hit a bit of a wall,” Gale admitted into her hair. “I’m not surprised time eluded me so completely.”

Thankfully, the windows in Gale’s study were already shut against the coming storm though not out of any abundance of caution and instead because there were far too many precarious piles of books stacked in front of the panes to open them properly. Merit would have suggested some spring cleaning if she knew that the space hadn’t also doubled as a practice ground for finessing spells as well, the darkness sometimes aiding Gale’s often intense focus and need for absolute precision.

“I don’t want to take away from your work, though,” she protested in earnest, their heads still resting together, Merit’s fingers now absently caressing the back of Gale’s neck. “It’s taken a while for you to get back into the swing of things.”

Gale said nothing, instead absently puckering his lips against her forehead in a half-hearted kiss, his mind clearly elsewhere. His fingers grasped more despairingly at her dress, inching the fabric up ever so slightly.

“I wrote a song today,” she said softly against his skin. “If you’d like to hear it”

“Always,” he said, one of his hands winding up her back until his fingers met skin. “I love hearing you sing.”

Merit shivered into the ease of his touch and settled there, the very state of her teetering on the border of comfort and arousal. Her skin grew warm as she snaked one hand gently down Gale’s back, slipping beneath the open collar of his shirt, while the other threaded through his hair.

“Why do I have a feeling you have something else in mind, though?” Merit asked, one hand softly raking at Gale’s scalp, relishing in how he held her closer as if in immediate response to her hungry grasping.

“Because I might,” Gale admitted, this time placing a kiss at the base of her ear, nestling his nose in her hair afterward. “You know, for science.”

“Hm,” Merit considered in earnest. Her song had been about idle pleasures, small saccharine moments mounting to a greater hunger, stolen perhaps but all the more sweet for their idle if not indulgent appetites. Perhaps her inspiration had been more divinely inspired than initially intended… “I’m of a mind to indulge your scientific inclinations, if that’s where your ever so diligent research has led you this evening.”

Merit couldn’t help but think of the first time they kissed, not to mention the few times after. Gale had kept her questing heart at bay at the tiefling party by warning her of his not-yet-quelled orb’s potential for destruction, its ire possibly inspired by whatever errant excitement might flow through him at any given moment, but by the end of the night, in part to Merit’s insistence as well as a good deal of wine, Gale had given into his idle if not ill-advised desire to kiss her, inspired no doubt by the vision she’d shared of the very same through the Weave. The vision come true, and both of them intact in the aftermath, Merit had raised a timid hand to Gale’s chest, her fingers tracing his scar as she wondered at the implications.

In my experience, the best cure for doubt is study and experimentation , he’d uttered against her lips, the hunger for another kiss clear in the way he looked at her and held her to him, as if the moment may very well slip through their fingers and be lost forever. And an experiment must be repeated at least thrice in order to ensure accuracy, of course. If you did want to repeat it thrice, I can certainly make myself available.

“It would only be prudent,” Gale argued, kissing her neck now. Merit sighed and melted against him.

“Well, if it’s for the greater good,” Merit played along. “We might as well.”

“Might as well,” he echoed.

Gale sowed kisses up her neck, across her jaw, and up over her awaiting chin before kissing Merit square on the mouth, pausing there as if savoring the taste of her. Gale’s hands met again at Merit’s waist and continued their earlier work of gathering the fabric of her dress, only stopping this time once the hem reached precariously over the curve of her thighs. One hand descended, planting itself firmly between her legs and paused as Gale kissed Merit with an earnest and hungry mouth, hours worth of studying and meticulous calculation quickly recalibrating so he might best have Merit in whatever way his imagination was already conjuring up in his mind’s ravenous eye.

Without instruction, Merit swung one leg around Gale’s torso so she straddled him proper. The feel of him between her legs sated an inner keening she knew not of until the very moment it was satisfied, rolling her hips against his in a way that made her want him even more. She wanted to feel his skin against hers, his want against her want. None of this was part of her plan, intent only on feeding him dinner but suddenly finding herself indulging him in dessert first instead.

“Gale, I-” she said before Gale wrapped her in another kiss, though no further argument followed.

Gale’s hand remained poised at the warmth between her legs, running his fingers along the stretch of linen that separated him from the strength of her want for him. Merit eased herself against his touch just as his other hand rose to her chest, pulling precariously at the neckline of her dress until her breasts were exposed completely. He traced the outline of her before running a careful thumb over the curve of her, her nipple growing hard against his touch as well as the open air.

“No fair,” she argued, tugging at his shirt. Before reaching for the hem of his shirt, Gale reached for his glasses but Merit stayed his hand.

“The glasses stay on,” she urged into a kiss before relinquishing, pulling away just far enough for Gale to remove his tunic, and to her surprise, sensing his desire not just against her but thrumming through her veins in kind. Glimpses of various states of undress, hungry mouths slaked but wanting more, skin warm and sweatslick, all lanced through her mind’s eye courtesy of the ring Gale had gifted Merit in asking for her hand along with the full-bodied impulse to hold her closer. Mirror image cravings laced with longing yearned out of her in return, Merit’s own wishes bestowing Gale with a parallel idea of how the evening might progress if they let dinner remain a delicious afterthought. “I’ll indulge your experiment if you indulge me with this.”

“But you’re blurry,” Gale argued weakly into another kiss as Merit’s hands began their intrepid exploration of his now bare chest, enticingly raking her nails with a gentle sweep over the pleasing shape of him: the base of his now unscarred neck, the sloping edge of his collarbone, and the soft swathes of curled hair that spanned the sinew of his muscles tensing beneath her touch. A sigh rich with yearning escaped Gale’s throat.

Merit kissed Gale still as she mentally shared her image of him, the thought filled to the brim with want as she took in the sight of him between every breath, that same desire inspiring every kiss that followed. Gale relented, humming into her kiss and smiling against her still-hungry mouth as he relished in her unending ache for him, an ache that echoed sweetly within him and yearned to be sated.

“Perhaps I can manage,” he whispered in eventual surrender, his lips brushing against hers before he pulled back slightly from Merit’s seeking mouth, smiling when he saw the disappointment on her face. Or at least guessed it from what he could make out through his glasses. “If it keeps you feeling like this.”

With that, Gale’s touch circled with practiced pause over the center of her, the fabric betraying Merit’s inexplicable craving, his other hand tracing a delicate arc over the exposed curve of her in a way that made Merit shiver, her breath quickening. Merit could only nod at him in quiet request for more, her eyes heavy-lidded with a covetous need for Gale to be closer yet cursed with a warring desire for him to keep teasing the very want out of her.

He deserved this, knowing just how much and how badly she wanted him. As much as Merit wanted to stop what she was doing and please him until Gale became so utterly undone that he hardly knew his own name, she wanted him to know this. To feel this. Her pining for him was more than a physical need but a spiritual indulgence, a pleasure made perfect only because of the depth of her love for him, fueled exponentially so by his matching devotion to her.

Their minds married beyond the mere symbolic, their shared desires and errant pleasures flowing freely through the joined rings at their fingers, informing their every touch, each caress, imbuing every stolen kiss with something both known and yet to be discovered.

Half imagined yet experienced in full, Merit and Gale shared in a wealth of thought and sensation, their shared rapture bridging the gap between real and imagined as Gale’s hand crept carefully yet delectably beneath the last slip fabric that separated them physically, gratifying Merit’s mental pleasures by appeasing her basest need.

“Right there,” she found herself sighing against him, though nothing at all needed to be said, her hips magnetized against the deliberate rhythm of Gale’s touch as he delved deeper. “Just like that, yes.”

A wave of exalted elation flooded Merit’s mind as she kissed him, a gift from Gale as he brimmed with the knowledge of her desire, relishing in the wetness of her want for him and yearned for more of it as he pressed her every pleasure point with an eager yet craving effort. As if in response, Merit conjured an image with the express purpose of it being shared between them, a prediction as well as a wish - Gale overcome with a demanding necessity to be inside her, half-clothed yet too impatient to carry her to bed - easing herself against his venturesome fingers in a way that both abated her growing need of him yet fed it just the same.

Gale panted deliciously into Merit’s each and every kiss, before eventually grunting pleasurably against her ear, whispering, “You know me so well - too well.”

Merit bit back a self-satisfied smile at the sound of his confession, melting against his fingers as well as the warmth of his breath on her neck.

“What if we try something else first?” Merit ventured, a smirk threatening to overcome her expression as the thought occurred to her, mouthwatering in its deviousness. Perhaps it was cruel of her to keep this from him, but in the spirit of science she thought it worth a try as she lowered one hand down to the undeniable bulge at the inseam of Gale’s trousers to ease his want out for her to please while she continued to ride his fervent hand.

Gale couldn’t speak, suddenly overcome with a whole other world of want for her as his unspoken gratification at Merit’s similarly scientifically inclined mind met his keening physical craving for her, clear in the glazed way he looked at her now as well as in the way he eased his hardness into the palm of her hand, gyrating against her anticipating touch. Merit smiled, pleased with herself, as she sighed in kind and tried to kiss Gale again, their beings brimming with several universes of want and need threatening to converge precariously into one.

Gale let out a low groan against Merit’s mouth as she touched him, sighing against his hand in kind with another greedy roll of her hips. She ran her fingers lightly along the warmth of his shaft, smiling into their kiss when she felt him tremble at her touch, before closing her palm around the pleasing girth of him. And then she conjured the image again: of Gale inside her, thrusting the wealth of his want inside her again and again with a careening urge that walked the line of utter necessity yet drove dangerously into ravenous indulgence, bordering on excess. She grew wetter at the thought just as Gale grew harder, their respective hands thirsting to feel the others’ culminating rapture whilst desiring for the dream to be made real, simultaneously feeling as if it were in the reality of their shared minds’ eye.

Merit whimpered against Gale’s mouth, every part of her vibrating with excess longing that made her mind and her body feel like a live wire bristling with electricity. She communicated the feeling, receiving a similar sensation psychically in response, their mounting lust brimming dangerously close to completion until their shared cup runneth over - though that was also the entirety behind Merit’s deliciously devious plan.

She eased the cradle of her palm against him, pleased to feel Gale grow harder and harder beneath her careful caress. Gale’s mouth wilted against hers, at first an involuntary response to whatever she was doing to him, but then deliberately, his lips then kissing the length of her jaw until he met the spot at the base of her ear, eliciting an unbidden sigh from Merit’s throat. The shared fantasy continued, this time images pouring from Gale’s mind into Merit’s: his hands hooked beneath her legs, lifting her along with him as he stood from the chair though he remained pleasurably deep inside her, as he then unceremoniously swept his hand across his desk, disheveling his days’ work to lay her against its slanted edge and urge his keening need for her inside again and again, the feel of him sweet and syrupy as he pressed kiss after feverish kiss against her skin.

Merit grew unendingly wet around Gale’s ambitious fingers at the thought, the feel of him growing hot beneath her hungered touch. They panted, whimpering into each and every famished kiss as they each succumbed to the dream completely, collapsing against the other, laced in each others’ resulting cravings made real, endlessly warm in the waning aftermath of their shared climax.

It was quiet then, the air warm between them as they caught their shared breath, the memory of their fabricated fantasy hanging in the air along with the sweet reality of what transpired, still saccharine and endlessly abating, a promise of more to come. One experiment of many more.

“So,” Merit sighed, a wave of contentment falling over her every limb like a welcome shroud, a satisfied smile possessing her lips as easily as her earlier song had. “Do your results support or contradict your theory?”

“Hm,” Gale said as if both truthfully considering this whilst mischievously playing along, his gaze going soft as he took in the still half-clothed vision of her from over the rim of his spectacles. “You threw me for a bit of a loop there when you posed that unexpected hypothesis, though I must say that the outcome was far more in line with my initial suspicions than I hoped to expect.”

“Mhm,” Merit rejoined, running her hands over his chest again. “And? Final thoughts and conclusions?”

Gale succumbed to a soft smile, one that met his eyes and made Merit feel warm all over as he nudged her closer, resting his forehead against hers.

“Any time spent in your company far exceeds even the most ambitious of my expectations,” he said whispersoft before placing the gentlest of kisses to her unsuspecting lips, a wealth of affection lacing the beat of every second spent between them. “Though, I must admit, it did open up an entirely new train of thought, which… will require further study, of course.”

Merit bit her bottom lip as she hummed into a self-satisfied smile. She knew the experiment only started as a means of distraction, perhaps a welcome diversion that would eventually aid Gale’s tired mind in reaching whatever studious conclusion he had been aiming for in his work all day, only to find himself now possessed with the desire to explore the further implications of the rings he’d enchanted, intent on discovering just the lengths to which they could push its linked capacity to bridge their minds and their every imagined desire in between.

“Well, I’m available for any and all further experimentation, if need be,” Merit promised with another kiss, sweet and slow. Gale pulled her closer, savoring the taste of her. "Once you've finished dinner, that is."

Gale smiled, speaking softly into her kiss, "I’ll be sure to keep that in mind."

~~~

(More) Notes:

A bit of head canon backstory: I never have the heart to trigger Gale's pick-up line about experimenting thrice when you have to choose between him and another romanced party member, so in my head he says this line to Merit as they test the boundaries of their mounting affections during the course of the game. In my head, they've at least tried to kiss, or made some attempt, before the orb is quieted in Act 2, but as per their experiments they discover they can't go much further than that otherwise it starts to glow rather ominously… I plan on exploring that head canon in a later fic but figured I would at least explain my line of thinking here anyway.

#bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #gale x oc #my writing #the brainrot is strong with this one

25 notes · View notes

bobgasm · 4 months

Text

kingpin ⦾ ten

pairing: robert “bob” floyd x ofc!emery young word count: 2325 warnings: smut, nsfw [18+ only], handjob, bob jerks off, confrontation, general mob shit,

summary: in which she confronts bob with her suspicions

nine | kingpin | eleven

Bob stood beneath the steady stream of water, eyes closed as it trickled down his body. He tried to think of something else, anything else, but he kept coming back to her. Emery. He’d been unable to take his eyes off her at the gym earlier, watching her smile and laugh as she talked to Payback.

Payback, who was her sister’s boss.

Christ, she was stunning. She had her dark hair pulled up in a ponytail that swung when she walked. When she practiced her fighting stance and dodging punches. He’d been transfixed by that damned ponytail, to the point that Coyote had told him to get over it in a less than subtle punch to the face.

Bob knew he deserved it. He’d hoped it would snap him out of whatever trance she had him in. Hoped he’d be able to focus on the multitude of other issues he had to deal with.

Then she bent over to grab her drink bottle. He knew her ass was glorious, but the tight leggings hugged her figure and he imagined so much more. He fantasised about bending her over the kitchen counter and burying his face in her cunt. Fantasised about watching her prance around in a barely there thong that her delicious ass swallowed.

“Fuck,” he swore, slapping his palm against the ceramic tiles of the shower. It was his third cold shower today, and they always ended the same way – his hand wrapped around his cock as he imagined all the ways he’d make her scream his name.

Bob’s hand traveled south by its own accord. Fingertips trailing over the dusting of hair below his navel, cock twitching in anticipation. He tried to draw it out – resist the urge to get himself off. He felt like a goddamn teenager. Three orgasms in one afternoon hadn’t been part of his daily agenda for years, but the mere thought of Emery soft and pliant beneath him had his cock hard in his hand.

He stroked himself slowly, lazily. Letting his head fall back as the pleasure built. Imagining it was her hand, her soft touch. Imagining she was on her knees teasing his sensitive tip, fondling his balls.

He groaned as he thrust into his hand. He was so fucking close again. He quickened his strokes, feeling his balls tighten as the coil inside him snapped. Eyes trained on his seed coating the wall of the shower, imagining it was coating her face and perfect tits.

Bob was painfully aware that he’s unable to meet Emery’s gaze as she took a seat at the table in the meeting room. To his right is Sam, the construction manager, and Morgan. It’s the usual meeting they have on the first Monday of the new month to assess where the businesses are and how construction is coming along, but the first one where Emery is now onboard.

Sam started talking about the progress with the hotel. He was grateful to have Emery onboard and making sure contractors are being paid so that they can keep on trucking. Bob tuned him out, unable to focus on anything other than the way Emery’s blouse hugs her chest. He has a direct line of sight to her cleavage and shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

The thought of burying his face in her tits as she rides him slaps him in the face and he lets out an audible groan, causing everyone to turn and look at him. “We’ve been stuck on the Health and Safety checks for weeks,” he said, attempting to cover it up. “What the fuck is taking so long?”

“Feel free to call and inquire,” Sam told him. “We’re at their mercy until the new site inspector signs off on our progress.”

Bob, fortunately, read between the lines. Sam was telling him the inspector is new, not someone on their payroll. They couldn’t expedite the process like they usually did.

“In other news,” Morgan said, shooting a cautionary glare at her brother. “Aside from the card counting and dealer issue we had last week at Dice, how are our numbers looking, Emery?”

Emery started sprouting off growth numbers for both Dice and Feathers. She praised Morgan’s marketing for both sites, as well as handed out the Profit and Loss reports. It showed a steady growth compared to the last two months where it has stagnated.

Bob was impressed, nodding in approval as he looked over the numbers. Decker had never given these kinds of reports before or even said he was tracking the numbers. One look at Morgan told him she was pleased to have her efforts acknowledged, and the two talked about more ways they could improve the businesses.

“I’ll stop by Feathers later if you’re interested?” Emery asked her. “I have some suggestions that I think might help streamline everything.”

“Perfect!” Morgan agreed happily. “Stop by after work. We’ll order dinner. Bob, you’re not invited.”

“I figured,” Bob mumbled. “Anything else we need to discuss?”

He looked between the other three people at the table, all who shook their heads. His gaze lingered on Emery, but she was the first to look away. Making herself busy in tidying up her reports, but telling Morgan to keep them – she’d have some more detailed ones for her later.

He shook Sam’s hand before he left and kissed Morgan’s cheek before heading to his office. He was in half a mind to pour himself a scotch, but being that it was only a little after nine, he decided against it.

Halo stopped by with his morning coffee and he busied himself in emails. He sent one to the site inspector about when to expect him for the Health and Safety check, careful to be professional and provide the supporting documents they usually needed. He didn’t want to piss him off and delay the process any further, but construction was seemingly at a standstill until their paperwork was up to date.

Around eleven, Emery knocked on his door. Bob sat up a little straighter as she walked inside and closed the door, which told him this wasn’t a social call. Still, he couldn’t help but admire how stunning she looked today. All of her clothes seemed to be a little too tight for her, and he wondered if she’d bought them like that specifically. Either way, she had his mind reeling.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she apologised. “Is this a good time?”

Bob’s brain felt foggy. “Of course, take a seat. Everything alright?”

Emery sat down and chuckled softly. “I feel like I should be asking you that. You seem distracted. Anything I can help with?”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he assured her with a smile.

“Okay,” she agreed. “Well, can I ask you something?” Bob nodded for her to go ahead. “What does FBY stand for?”

Bob wracked his brain, brow furrowing together in thought. “Never heard of it. Why?”

“Oh,” she said, straightening up a little bit. Almost like she was taken aback. “I found a monthly recurring payment to an account named only FBY. I’ve tried to find what company it stands for online but haven’t had any luck. The payment in the system says it’s a donation, so I’ve run through a bunch of charities and not for profit organisations, but still nothing.”

Bob felt tense. Her words seemed innocent enough, but his mind was reeling. She wouldn’t come to him without proof of anything suspicious going on. But Decker wouldn’t do that, would he?

Bob steeled himself. “How much is the payment for?”

“Ten grand every month,” she admitted. “The first payment was made about ten years ago, from what I can see.”

“How much does that work out to?” He dared to ask.

Emery fiddled with her fingers in her lap, lips pressed together. “About one point two million.”

“About one point two million,” Emery mumbled. She felt nervous beyond anything she’d ever felt before.

She forced herself to look at him, to try and find any sign of recognition on his face. Any sign that he might’ve been lying to her. She can’t see anything but the anger he’s barely keeping in check. Watching his jaw tick, his eyes imperceptibly dark.

“What exactly are you hinting at, Ms Young?”

Emery swallowed thickly, hating that he’d reverted to calling her by a more professional manner. “I’m not hinting at anything, Mr Floyd. I’m telling you that I have a strong reason to think that your previous accountant was stealing from you.”

There, she thought. I’ve done it.

“Can you prove this?” Bob asked her.

“Depends how far back you want me to look, because I have a feeling it’s going to be a lot more than it currently is. It also depends on whether you still have records that predate the seven year cutoff for auditing. The only reason I was able to go back ten years is because, I’m assuming, that’s when you started using Wiler.”

Bob stood up and crossed the room. Emery turned in her seat to watch him reach for a decanter with a dark liquid in it, pouring himself a drink. Her pulse raced in her ears and her palms felt clammy. She hated this feeling, but he needed to know. If she’d kept her suspicions quiet any longer and he found out, he might’ve assumed she was in on it.

“Can you send me a report of your findings, along with the account name and number?” Bob asked her, turning to face her as he sipped his drink. She smelt the alcohol in the air and knew it must be an expensive type.

“Of course.”

“And Ms Young?”

“Yes,” she said quietly.

“Please be discrete about this. If our previous accountant was siphoning money off us every month, I don’t want the wrong people knowing,” Bob told her.

“The wrong people being who, exactly?�� She dared to ask.

Bob smirked at the question. “You’re smarter than you let on, Emery. I think you already know.”

Emery nodded once in acknowledgement. She’d seen the high profit margins. She’d already assumed the previous accountant was the man from the diner. Now it seemed like all the pieces of the puzzle had finally come together.

“I’ll be joining you and Morgan for dinner. We have…procedures in place for these kinds of situations,” Bob told her.

“Does this happen often, then?” She asked. “People figuring out you work for the mob?”

Bob chuckled. “Darling, we are the mob. At least here in LA.”

Bob let Emery return to her office. He needed to call Morgan and update her on the situation. Emery would have to stay under one of their watchful eyes until Coyote’s background check came through. Surprisingly, Bob wasn’t all that worried. He still had her computers bugged, but the late notice to help her move into her apartment on Saturday left him unable to plant a mic.

Now, he wasn’t sure if one would be needed.

Morgan answered on the second ring. “Hey,”

“I just had the strangest conversation with Emery,” Bob told her, forgoing the typical greeting. “I’m going to be joining the two of you for dinner tonight. She knows, Morgan.”

“She knows what?” Morgan asked him.

“About us. Our company,” Bob replied. “Since Richard isn’t here, we’re going to handle this ourselves. I’m about to call Coyote and tell him I need everything he has on her.”

Morgan hummed. “I’d offer my place tonight, but I won’t be home until maybe three or four in the morning,” she said. “Besides, you work with her. It’ll be easier.”

“It’s not supposed to be easier, Morgan,” Bob reminded her, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We still can’t find Decker, and now Emery’s told me he was stealing from us this whole time.”

“Oh, fuck.”

Bob had to agree. “She found close to one point two million funneled into an offshore account. FBY, does that mean anything to you?”

“Should it?”

“It’s the name on the account,” Bob replied, blowing out a breath. “An abbreviation for something. I don’t know. She thought it was a charity donation but it’s gone back at least ten years. I’m willing to bet there’s more.”

“Call Coyote. We’ll talk more later,” she told him. “And try to cut the girl some slack, she just found out the cushy job in the city she got hired for is a mob front. She’s bound to be terrified.”

“I’m far more calm about this than I thought I’d be,” he said.

“Coyote told me you couldn’t stop staring. Surprised I didn’t see you at Feathers last night trying to get your rocks off,” Morgan said with a laugh. “Just don’t let her cloud your judgement. You were always the one who sniffed out a rat before I did.”

“I’ll see you later, Mo’,” Bob told her, ending the call without waiting for a response. If he didn’t give her the time to make comments, then there’d be less of them. At least, that’s how he rationalised it.

Coyote was his next call. He answered before the first ring was up. “Boss,” he greeted.

“I need your file on Emery Young,” Bob told him. “Bring it into the office. I need to debrief you on the situation.”

“I’ll be there in twenty.”

Bob loosened his tie before pouring himself another glass of scotch. When he sat back down in his chair, he felt exhausted. He ran a hand over his face as he swirled the liquor around his glass, deciding he should do some research on FBY himself before Coyote showed up.

FBY could stand for anything. Decker had no family, aside from his wife. He’d wanted children, but they struggled to conceive. In the end, they were happy with their lives just being theirs. FBY had no meaning to Decker that Bob knew of, and he was about to call his father to ask if he had any ideas, when Coyote knocked on his door.

He wasted no time in closing the door behind him and handing Bob a small file. “That’s everything I could find on Emery. No father, mother died when she was nine. Grew up in foster care in Bakersfield where she met Natasha, her foster sister. Put herself through college. Everything checks out.”

“How did her mother die?” Bob asked, flicking through the file for the coroner’s report.

“Robbery gone wrong,” Coyote told him. “She was apparently closing for the night. Ended up with a bullet between her eyes.”

Bob skimmed through the coroner’s report. “Betty Young,” he said. “Shit.”

The more he read, the more he felt enraged. “Anything else?”

“Just what’s in the file. She’s all clean,” Coyote assured him.

“Good, because she just found out she works for the mob.” Coyote didn’t bat an eye. “She discovered that Decker was stealing and approached me about it. I need you to look into the account. Find out if he’s been dipping into it yet. Tell Hangman it’s game time. I want Dominic Decker dead.”

author’s note: sooo how we feeling? 🤭

#robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd x oc #bob floyd x ofc #robert bob floyd x ofc #mob!bob floyd #robert bob floyd x oc #mob!au #bob floyd fanfic #bob floyd fanfiction #robert bob floyd fanfic #robert bob floyd fanfiction

35 notes · View notes

aliciameade · 14 days

Text

Darkness at Dawn - Ch. 3

Title: Darkness at Dawn Author: aliciameade Rating: M/E Pairing: Stephanie Smothers/Emily Nelson Summary: Even Bonnie & Clyde met their fate eventually.

Set five years after "Baby."

Also on AO3

The next several days are spent circling one another in the rec yard, Stephanie keeping her distance, Emily staring her down. It’s an act, one Stephanie knows Emily is directing, and she needs to patiently await her cue.

It’s a Sunday afternoon, she thinks, when there’s an uproar in the cellblock. She doesn’t bother rushing to her door’s tiny window to look. She’s too short anyway, and her cellmates wouldn’t let her have a glimpse even if she asked. She’s familiar with the noise though: it’s the welcoming committee of prisoners welcoming a new resident to their section. She’s heard it often, though this “celebration” is especially boisterous and is accompanied by a lot of shouted chatter.

One of her cellmates makes a comment about needing to watch her back.

The next morning at breakfast, Stephanie walks to her usual table with her tray. She’s managed to befriend (she uses the term loosely) a handful of women who all tend to keep to themselves. Two of them are pregnant.

“Hey, baby.”

She slows her pace, looking for the voice to see she’s walked past Emily sitting at the table that’s always occupied by many of the most intimidating, violent inmates of her block. They make eye contact.

“Yeah, I’m talking to you. You speak English? Looks like it.”

She pauses, fingers tapping the sides of her plastic tray. “Uh, yeah.”

“You’re cute. Come here.”

She turns slowly, not exactly sure what Emily’s up to, but she’s buzzing with the opportunity to finally do more than exchange glances. Emily’s holding court, eight or nine other women sitting around the circular table. She makes a sharp comment and they all shuffle until there’s a space next to her.

“Sit with me.”

Stephanie spares a glance at her usual table, its residents watching with rapt attention and fear. It feels a bit like Regina George inviting Cady Heron to join The Plastics’ table in Mean Girls if it had been a prison and not a high school cafeteria.

The women sitting at Emily’s table are also staring and exchanging glances with one another but no comments are made until she fits herself in the space made vacant for her. It’s a narrow spot and she’s grateful for it. Her hip presses into Emily’s, their upper arms grazing. She bumps her foot against Emily’s under the table. She hasn’t felt Emily’s warmth in weeks, has barely heard her voice…taken in the scent that she carries, even here, in the dank, odiferous prison that grants inmates two showers per week. She’s still wearing her hair in a pair of braids, and Stephanie considers braiding her own hair later. It would certainly help with the lack of traditional grooming options.

“What’s your name, baby?” Emily asks as she looks down at her from her height. She’s wearing the same smile Stephanie remembers from the first day they ever spent together, Emily catching her dancing to a French tune in her house. It’s a smile of amusement that reaches her eyes, but one very much laced with danger, or maybe predation, her sharp, straight teeth that have pressed into so much of Stephanie’s flesh over the years on display now.

“Uh…” Stephanie shifts and glances at the women staring at her, everyone waiting for what she’ll say or do. She’d been booked under her given name, and she’d shared it with her cellmates because using a false name in prison, even with other prisoners, seemed unwise.

“It’s Stephanie, right? I know everyone here.”

“Yes,” she answers as she tentatively picks up the unappetizing sandwich from her tray to take a well-observed bite of it. The action garners a strange round of whispers and she wonders if, based on the untouched food on the other women’s trays, she was meant to ask permission. From whom? From Emily?

Emily waves off her response and picks up her sandwich, the rest of the table relaxing a bit and following suit. “I’m going to call you ‘baby.’ You can call me Emily.”

Stephanie hides her smile in another bite.

Emily rattles off a list of names of the other women at the table as an introduction; some of the names Stephanie already knows from overhearing conversations, others are new to her. They are the women she’s pointedly avoided, their reputations and auras far too menacing.

Emily’s aura, however, is in control of their audience, but they’re starting to lose interest in the lack of action and start to fall into conversation with one another.

“Anyone get to you yet?”

Stephanie slows her chewing of her terrible sandwich which has a good chance of disagreeing with her stomach later. The question is a double entendre. Emily wants to know if anyone’s made Stephanie their pet yet. If she’s someone’s girlfriend, voluntary or otherwise.

And Stephanie also recognizes that, unsurprisingly as she has managed to do in every scenario, Emily has already claimed a position of power. It’s the first time the thought crosses her mind that maybe Emily, before knowing they would find each other, had claimed a girlfriend or two of her own as a way to assert dominance over the women of her last block. The thought makes her sick, or maybe it’s the sandwich, and she drops it to her tray.

She struggles to keep her eyes down, the natural inclination to look at the person talking to her, especially her wife, is a challenging one. She shakes her head, and she feels Emily’s hand on her back, rubbing it seductively in front of the entire room, and Stephanie can sense everyone taking notice.

“Good.” For a brief moment, her fingertips even slip under the edge of Stephanie’s too-large thread-bare brown sweater and it makes her whole body jump.

She hopes the watchful eyes interpret it as fear that the inmate running things has just laid claim to her as opposed to the arousal of having not been with Emily in months coursing through her. She swallows hard and does nothing else but press her knee against Emily’s under the table.

“Listen up,” Emily suddenly barks, in Greek, and the entire mess hall takes notice. “Anyone touches Baby, you die. This one’s mine.”

A murmur rolls through the hundred or so women sitting at tables like their own until a few of them wolf-whistle and a chorus of hoots, hollers, obscenities, and table-pounding breaks out. It results in the guards, heretofore paying them little mind as meals were a mutually agreed-upon neutral zone (everyone needed to eat, and if a fight broke out, all would go hungry), shouting and stalking threateningly through the rows of tables until everyone settles down.

The distraction lets Stephanie better settle at the table, dropping one hand first to her lap while she picks at the bread on her tray with the other, before briefly sneaking it over to squeeze Emily’s thigh. There are so many people around the table that she knows no one can see what’s happening beneath it, obscured by everyone’s legs, but she doesn’t risk more than that. She does her best to look aggrieved at being claimed, but she’s confident her cheeks are pink.

“Fuck this slop,” Emily announces, first shoving her tray away, then standing up from the table. She looks down at Stephanie and gives a jerk of her head and Stephanie reads it like the command it is and stands as well. She watches with awe as one of the women at the table takes both their trays and first divvy up their leftovers and then racks their trays for them. “Let’s go. Mama needs some attention.”

She strides toward the room’s exit; the only place inmates are allowed when they finish eating is to return to their cells, and very few have done so. Stephanie follows closely, still feeling eyes on her as snide, inappropriate comments are made within earshot about how physically injured she’s about to become. They leave the mess hall, past guards who are engaged in conversation, into their cell block. They pass Stephanie’s empty cell and continue down the corridor lined with heavy metal doors that, for now, sit open and unlocked.

When they reach Emily’s cell, she’s pulled into it and hears the door close behind her, though it doesn’t lock. A guard will be by within the hour to do that.

“Oh, my God, I missed you,” she says, almost crying as she rushes into Emily’s arms. She’s caught and held close, then lifted so her legs can wrap instinctually around Emily’s waist. They’re kissing like the first time they’d made love, sloppy passion on Emily’s designer couch in her million-dollar house. Now, it’s sloppy passion on Emily’s thin-mattressed bunk where they land, Stephanie astride Emily’s hips.

“I missed you, too, baby,” Emily says between kisses, her tongue claiming and reclaiming Stephanie’s mouth as they grab hastily at each other. She’s moving quickly and while Stephanie has no idea how much time they have, she has a suspicion that if Emily’s cell door is closed, her cellmates know to wait until they’re allowed to return.

She’s okay with quick, though, and moans when Emily’s hand finds her bare breast under her sweater and the other easily moves into her pants, and underwear that she’s grateful Emily can’t see, to slide her fingers into Stephanie.

“Fuck,” she breathes into Emily’s mouth, hips riding Emily hard and fast. It’s only been a couple of months, but it's been full of anxiety, stress, unknowns, and loneliness and sex had been the last thing on her mind until Emily threw a basketball at her head. But now she’s starved, ravenous, and she can’t manage to keep their mouths connected. She’s moving too much and lets her head fall next to Emily’s, moaning and begging in her ear as Emily fucks her in a prison cell.

“Come for me, baby,” Emily purrs in her ear and she does, heat and wetness rushing through her as she cries out, Emily’s hand abandoning her breasts to wrap around Stephanie’s back and pull her in closer, lips and tongue reaching her ear and jaw and neck.

It ends with a sob and Stephanie’s fully crying when it’s eased enough to lift her head. She ignores the tears as she kisses Emily, still riding her fingers as she adjusts her position so she can reach between them and push her hand down Emily’s sweatpants to find her soaked and swollen. She circles her clit in the way she’s long-known turns Emily into a writhing mess.

It works, and Emily’s cursing and begging, and the metal frame of the bunk they’re in is starting to screech against the floor with their thrusting, and Stephanie’s all but forgotten their reality. She slides her fingers lower to push inside Emily to feel her trembling from within and presses the heel of her hand into her clit, her hips riding Emily’s hard, working to fuck each other at the same pace.

It’s messy and desperate and Emily bites her neck as they come together, hard enough that Stephanie knows she’ll leave a noticeable mark for everyone to see. That she’s been claimed.

When it’s over, they’re breathing hard, tangled together, still dressed though Stephanie’s pants have worked their way as low as her stance allows. She feels Emily’s heart racing beneath her fingertips, fingertips that are resting over Emily’s breast. They kiss lazily. Languidly. Lost in the haze of reunion and release until the echo of voices starts growing louder as inmates begin to return.

“What are we going to do?” she says between kisses as she starts to come back to herself and take stock of the situation.

Emily’s smiling up at her. “Anything we want. I run this place.”

She huffs and sits up, still astride Emily’s waist, though Emily’s fingers are between her lips rather than inside Stephanie. It’s distracting, but not quite enough. “This place is prison, Em.”

“I know,” she says after drawing her fingers from between her lips with a pop!. “And now I own the sweetest snatch in this godforsaken place.”

Stephanie jostles Emily beneath her, even if she’s flattered. “Be serious. What are we going to do? Detective Summerville showed up when they took me to the hospital after I fainted. He knows—”

“Thinks he knows,” Emily interrupts. “That man really has a thing for you.”

“—yes, thinks he knows what we did. Or, at least he has a pretty good idea of what he thinks we did. He said because we forged our everything, we aren’t legally married, and that’s going to negate our spousal privilege in court, my adopting Nicky is null, and Em, they cleared Sean and released him and Summerville contacted him. I have no idea where Miles is, if he’s with Helen, or if they’ve put him in a foster home. I assume Sean has Nicky by now.”

Emily sobers quickly and sits up. “He did what?”

“He said he called Sean to tell him they found us. We were still missing persons. He said Sean was already flying here, and my attorney still hasn’t contacted me. Have you heard from yours?”

“Not since we were transferred. She said it might take a while, but we have a plan.”

“What’s the plan?”

Emily’s about to answer when she closes her mouth. “We aren’t married.”

“I know that, please don’t remind me.”

“We can’t protect each other. They could try to get one of us to incriminate the other. Or both. It’s better if we don’t talk about it.”

“Em, I would never—” she rushes, framing Emily’s face with her hands.

“I know.” Emily’s voice is low and quiet. “I know that. Let me do this. Let me protect you. This is all my fault anyway.”

“Hey, no.” Stephanie leans in and kisses her. The voices in the corridor are loud now, and she can hear them right outside their door. Emily’s cellmates are waiting to be allowed in, she assumes. “Don’t rewrite history. I chose this. I chose you.”

Emily kisses her at the statement and they get lost in it for a moment before a buzzer sounds; it’s a warning to get back to your assigned cell before they’re locked. She’s seen what happens to those who miss the headcount while bunking up with someone else, or just choosing to be a troublemaker.

Or rather, she hasn’t seen it. They disappear. For days. They return bruised and beaten, or not at all.

“Trust me,” Emily says, kissing her urgently at their clock ticking down. “Do you trust me?”

“Always.”

Emily kisses her as they clamber off the bunk, her hand reaching to push her cell door open, but stops just short as they kiss. Stephanie knows they’re being watched; there’s no way they’re not, standing right in front of the small window in the door as they are. She’s barely tall enough to peer out of her own cell door, but Emily’s sure to be fully in frame even if she has to lean down. There’s whistling and shouting and Emily finally takes a step back and Stephanie can see her slipping into her boss persona.

“What did you do to make them all respect you this way?”

Emily shrugs and tries to tidy Stephanie’s mussed hair and crooked sweater. “Told them I killed my sister.”

“Imagine if they knew it was little ol’ me,” she says with a laugh. “Can’t believe I’m the boss’s bitch now,” she says with one last kiss to Emily’s lips. “You’re hot when you’re the alpha.”

“Oh, baby,” Emily says as she swings the cell door open to a chorus of cheers and vulgar gestures, “I’m always the alpha.”

#a simple favor #stephanie smothers #emily nelson #murder moms #fanfic #asf fic

10 notes · View notes

bundrops-n-fluffytops · 1 year

Text

Welcome Home Agere Fic - Sing Me to Sleep

Characters: Little!Howdy Pillar, CG!Barnaby B. Beagle

Setting: Howdy’s Bodega (Checkout Desk, Upstairs Breakroom)

Premise: Barnaby notices that his good pal Howdy is overworking himself to the point of losing sleep. Concerned and determined to help his buddy out, he decides to sing him a lullaby to help him sleep. The next morning, he discovers something about Howdy he initially didn’t think he did.

Author’s Note: Another agere fic, this time with Howdy!! I kinda headcanon Barnaby and Howdy as childhood friends, like Barnaby befriended him while he stayed at the farm with his ma, so here it’s mentioned for a bit at the beginning. Hope that’s ok!!

Also the lullaby that Barnaby sings is ai generated, not an original song, so don’t think I write songs too jfkgk

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

Ever since the bodega opened in the town of Welcome Home, the lovable yet goofy Barnaby B. Beagle always made a point of visiting. Considering it was run by an old pal of his - that being the ever so hardworking Howdy Pillar - he couldn’t just ignore it! It even had all his favorite things in it; rubber duckies, party horns, endless streams of ribbons, the whole nine! For the price of just a simple trade as well, it was a perfect store!

Of course, it wouldn’t be the same without the man of the hour - or say, caterpillar. Barnaby had always admired the blood and sweat put into every little detail of the bodega, from the paint jobs to the shelving and even to the currency. It was a marvelous sight to see, but he couldn’t expect less from such a diligent and determined shopkeeper. Always toiling and moiling and working himself to the bone to make sure that progress did well and that every customer left with a big smile on their face, he could do no bad.

That… did bring a glaring problem to the surface, however: he did this all the time.

Because his never-ending perseverance and his insistence to make sure that business was booming at the seams, he often tired himself out. And by often, that meant a lot.

The bags under the titular caterpillar’s eyes looked as if they’ve been personally drawn on with permanent marker, with how dark they were. Often times, Barnaby would accidentally catch Howdy almost falling asleep at his checkout desk, but immediately perking up when he noticed that the comedian was watching. He would wake up and catch Howdy still up at the tender hours of night sweeping the floors or wiping the windows or even restocking the shelves.

It was concerning, to say the least. He had occasionally brought up the idea that Howdy could at least lay low for a short while, take a small break. However, the poor shopkeeper would break into a nervous sweat and go, “Oh but who will run the front counter while I’m gone? I’m the only one who works here, I can’t stop now! This shop will go belly-up if I quit here, I just can’t!” It almost broke the dog’s beating heart to see him in such a fit of distress.

He wanted to fix that, and he knew exactly how.

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

The sun set behind the trees one hot and sweaty evening, and Howdy was finishing up the last of his chores for the night: restocking the shelves, sweeping up any dust and grime, and wiping the front windows squeaky clean. Barnaby took quick note of this and strolled towards him, humming a jovial tune.

“Well howdy do, Howdy! Lovely afternoon we got here, but golly is it sweltering! I feel like I’m on Hell’s front porch with a pipin’ fever right about now, huh?” Barnaby greeted himself, chuckling as he did. Howdy looked up from wiping the front window, rubbing his sleepy lids with his lower right hand and smiling drowsily.

“You’re not wrong Barnaby, heh! I can feel myself melting like a snow cone in Phoenix!” He replied, wiping his forehead of the pooling sweat and turning back to wiping the windows clean. Barnaby snickered, nodding his head to the statement.

An awkward silence fell on the two. Howdy cleared his throat.

“Ahem, uh… what brings you here, ol’ pal?”, he asked, “ya’ need something from my shop? Any horns or… fake teeth or spinning plates?” The shopkeeper began to put up his bucket of suds and washrag before being stopped by the comedian.

“Oh no, I’m fine as frog hair, buddy! I just came to ask ya’ something, if you have the time, of course.” Howdy perked up at the request, but paused and sighed wearily.

“If you’re asking for me to take a break, Barnaby, then no. I’m not letting this business fall because the one man working here-“

He quickly got interrupted.

“Aww, come on Howdy! You’re exhausted and practically sleepwalking, if you keep working in this state you’ll be dead on your feet!” Barnaby protested, crossing his arms and huffing.

“Barnaby, you really don’t understand,” Howdy rebutted, “this is a matter of needing rather than wanting. Anyone and everyone could come, and if they see me lounging around, doing everything but, I’ll be letting them down! Soon the progress of this whole business could go down, and take me with it. I can’t ‘take a break’ because I am literally against doing it.”

Barnaby sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Howdy sure dug his heels deep in this business, huh? The titular dog wracked his brain for quite a while, thinking of a good way to pry his four arms away from the building… until something popped up.

“Oh well, I guess you’re right… but I do still have something to ask of you.” Howdy sighed, lifting his head towards him with his brow furrowed.

“Will you at least let me sing something to you?”

This tripped the caterpillar upside for a moment. Sing for him? Why exactly would this dog want to sing for him in the dead of night?

“Uhh… may I ask why? That’s a rather odd question to ask, really,” Howdy questioned the dog.

“Oh, well I had been listening to the radio recently and I happened to stumble upon the most loveliest tune! It had me painting the town red, it was lovely!” Howdy tilted his head curiously.

“Hmmm… well what song was it? I think I may have some records inside so you can sing along.” Barnaby grinned widely. His plan was working perfectly.

“I’m pretty sure it was called…Sweet Dreams and Strawberry Milk? It was a guitar song too, very slow and calming.”

“Hmmm… I don’t seem to have that song on a record, from what I can remember.” Barnaby’s heart dropped.

“Buuuuut I do have a guitar! Maybe you can play it on that?” And just like that, the plan was still in motion.

“Oh, superb! You always seem to have something on you to fix a situation, don’tcha? Well, what are you waiting for? Let’s go inside before the wolves start howling!”

Barnaby quickly grabbed Howdy’s free arm and dragged him inside the bodega, leaving behind his sud bucket and rag. After a few quick directions, both the dog and caterpillar made their way to the upstairs breakroom.

The breakroom itself was quite large, to his surprise, it almost doubled as a separate house. In one section of the room, a small kitchenette with an oven, fridge, and sink, along with a sofa, record player, and television. In another section, a large bed spread along the room, with a dresser and closet on one side and a bookshelf on the other. In between both sections was a bathroom that he could conveniently walk into any time he wanted. The breakroom as a whole had a sort of forest or plant theme, with leaves and flower decorations galore, it was like shrinking and walking into Poppy’s garden.

Barnaby made their way towards the second section, sitting down on the edge of Howdy’s bed. Howdy strolled towards the closet, opening and rummaging through. He pulled out a large guitar and walked towards the bed where Barnaby sat, handing over the guitar.

“Do make this quick, ok pal?,” Howdy admonishes, slipping off his shoes and taking off his hat. He might as well get comfortable in case things get too long. Barnaby waved his hand dismissively, holding the guitar in his paws.

“Ahh, don’t you worry your pretty lil’ head, Howdy,” he reassured, “I’ll be quicker than green grass though a goose!” Howdy chuckled at that, smiling slightly.

The comedian took a minute to tune and adjust the chords to the guitar, making sure he wasn’t off-tune, before holding the guitar to his chest. He took a deep breath… and began to sing.

Close your eyes my little one

Drift away to sleep

Dream of fields of strawberries

Growing tall and deep

Sweet dreams my love

With strawberry milk in your cup

May your slumber be peaceful

And your dreams be sweet and lush

Imagine a garden of red

With vines and leaves so green

Picking the ripest berries

For the sweetest milk you've seen

Sweet dreams my love

With strawberry milk in your cup

May your slumber be peaceful

And your dreams be sweet and lush

As the peaceful lullaby rang throughout the bedroom, Howdy could feel his head begin to cloud up and his eyelids to feel heavy. He suppressed a yawn but caught himself stretching his arms and back.

He then decided that he rest his head for just a moment, if only for a second. He figured he would be awake by the time the song was finished, so it couldn’t be that bad.

As you lay here in my arms

With your eyes closed tight

Let the taste of strawberry milk

Take you through the night

Sweet dreams my love

With strawberry milk in your cup

May your slumber be peaceful

And your dreams be sweet and lush

Sleep now my little one

May your dreams be bright

With strawberry milk in your thoughts

All through the night.

Barnaby cleared his throat after finishing the song, gently placing the guitar to his left. He turned to face Howdy, who had been silent throughout the entire song, to ask him how he felt, but he instead found Howdy fast asleep beside him. How silly of him to drop off mid song, and in his work clothes too! Barnaby snickered to himself at the sight.

He decided that it would be best to stay the night. He pulled the blankets on the bed over the sleeping shopkeeper, tucking him in comfortably, before quietly leaving the bedroom. He made himself towards the other half of the breakroom and towards the couch, and pulled out the longer section to lie down. Turning off the lights and getting comfortable in the process, soon both of them were in a peaceful slumber.

The plan was a success.

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

Barnaby suddenly awoke to a strange noise.

He blinked himself awake to the sudden sound, trying to make sense of his vision. He could make out the kitchenette and the television, and what couch he was on.

Ah, yes, he was at Howdy’s place.

The sun was pooling through the closed curtains and birds were chirping their morning song, signifying a new morning for the sleepy beagle. He slowly stood up from his position and stretched his arms and back wide behind him, popping anything that needed popping.

His attention soon turned to the strange noise that woke him up. It was shrill and loud, yet desperate, if it made sense. It was occasionally interrupted by a slight hiccup or sniffle, before going right back to the shrillness.

Was that… Howdy?

It had the same voice as Howdy, had the same pitch (albeit a tad higher than usual), he could recognize it from a mile away. But what exactly is making him wail this loud?

He had to go investigate.

Barnaby slowly got up from the couch and quietly made his way through the breakroom towards Howdy’s bedroom. He hesitantly knocked one, two, three times, making sure it was quiet but noticeable.

“Howdy? Is that you in there?” Barnaby asked, hands on hips and his face screwed up into that of concern. If his suspicions were correct that this was indeed his pre-pupated pal, then this was quite out of character of him. He wasn’t that open with his inner feelings as he didn’t want them interfering with work, so hearing him so distressed was… odd.

He was quite surprised to see the door swing open not long after he knocked, but what surprised him more was what answered the door: a shaky and teary-eyed Howdy, covered in a colorful blanket and his thumb halfway in his mouth. It took him by surprise for a bit, before quickly being replaced with a brotherly concern.

“Oh jeez… you okay, bud? What happened?” Barnaby said, resting a gentle paw on the shivering shopkeeper’s shoulder and rubbing it slowly. Howdy only sniffled and hiccuped, lowering his head and covering his face with his hands as he continued to cry. The blue beagle took that opportunity to hesitantly wrap his arms around the both of them in a comforting embrace, letting Howdy rest his head on his shoulder.

“Deep breaths, bud… let’s go over here, ok?” Barnaby said quietly and reassuringly, taking one of Howdy’s hands and leading them to the nearby sofa. The titular caterpillar sniffled, wiping his eyes with his hands and popping his free thumb back between his lips. They both trudged towards the comfy cushions, sitting comfortably beside each other with hands clasped gently. Barnaby leaned his friend’s head towards the crook of his neck, letting Howdy rest against him as the bigger dog began to rub his back slowly.

“Hasn’t been your best morning, huh buddy?”, Barnaby said, his voice low and quiet and reassuring. Howdy sniffed, nodding his head silently.

“How’s about I settle here until you’re up and running again, hm?”, the blue beagle suggested, “It don’t seem like you can even walk properly, let alone run a store like this. Not good shape for a guy like you, huh?”

Howdy furiously shook his head no at that notion.

“I know, I know,” the blue dog continued, “you wanna run it. We can always take a day off though, can’t we? It can’t hurt to lay low for at least a day. It’s only about one in a few hundred days, isn’t it?” The small caterpillar sat there for a bit, his head filled with thought. Barnaby scratched his noggin for an idea, then snapped his fingers once it came.

“How about this,” he started, “maybe I can stay and settle with you for the day until you’re feeling better? That way you won’t have to worry about feeling lonely, ok? How does that sound?” Howdy looked down to his feet, wringing his lower hands together in thought. He didn’t want to let the business down, and he felt bad that he was so upset when Barnaby found him.

However, he wasn’t wrong. He had been quite stressed for a few weeks, and he was teetering towards passing out and never getting out of bed. Plus, in his state, how would he run the shop? He could barely talk. It wasn’t an argument at this point, really. He needed this break.

Howdy hesitantly nodded.

“Good to hear, bub,” Barnaby said, squeezing him towards himself a bit tighter. He then stood up and wipe his paws on his vest, and turned back to Howdy.

“You mind if I hold you, bud?”, he asked, lowering himself to the smaller caterpillar’s level. Howdy nodded, holding out his lower arms and flexing the fingers in a grabbing motion. Barnaby gripped his sides and hooked his hands underneath his upper arms. He lifted him up slowly and rested the caterpillar on his hip.

“Now there, how’s about we get you dressed in something nice, m’kay? Those slacks don’t feel so good now, I can find something better for today.”

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

#This took a WHILE #hope that’s ok lol #but heyyyyy baby howdy for once!!#i considered adding Wally for a sec but figured it would be cute to just practice with Howdy and Barnaby #Barnaby is literally the best cg #welcome home arg #welcome home #welcome home puppet show #welcome home agere #sfw agere #agere positivity #agere fanfic #welcome home howdy #howdy pillar #welcome home barnaby #barnaby b beagle #gummunity fics

98 notes · View notes

nordschleifes · 8 months

Text

chapter seven — el perdedor

➝ when that fateful day in montreal is repeated in belgium, charlie is sure that the fairy tale with fernando has come to an end. she just didn't expect that she hadn't been the biggest loser that afternoon.

➝ word count: 7,3k

➝ warnings: fight, cursing, bribery, an angry cat, smut

➝ author's note: tagging @christianpulisic10, @alonsogirlie and @enaticosencantados as requested.

Sitting inside the plane, tears were streaming down Charlie's cheeks. She was trying not to cry in earnest in fear of disturbing the two other passengers beside her, a man dozing against the window and a woman in the middle seat who was immersed in the movie. But, she wanted to. She needed to. She needed to get all the frustration and anger consuming her out.

She needed to do something other than ruminate on the fact that the fairy tale of just over two months between her and Fernando was over, ending in the worst possible way.

Fernando had just come off of an incredible streak, one that not even the most optimistic of his fans could have imagined. After the unsatisfactory race in Barcelona, he was fully motivated to get back onto the podium in Montreal.

— It was like I said yesterday, that was our last race off the podium, nena — Fernando had murmured to her, the morning before the first free practice of the weekend, while they were still in bed together.

Driven by that desire to turn the tables, the two agreed to use a more aggressive setup than Lance's. However, against Max Verstappen's practically unstoppable RB19, they needed much more than a good strategy and a perfectly tuned car.

They needed luck.

— Is Max in trouble? — asked Fernando, a few laps after his first stop, during the safety car caused by George Russell. At that point they were in second place, more concerned with fending off Lewis Hamilton than chasing the championship leader through the Circuit Gilles Villeneuve.

— He hasn’t reported anything, why?

— He’s braking too early in the turns.

— Understood, I'll check — she said as her eyes scanned the telemetry charts, comparing the two drivers' lines and noticing that Max's braking line was longer and smoother than Fernando's. “Something's wrong”, Charlie kept repeating to herself, as he watched the lap times continue to fall, lap after lap.

Then, Charlie got a message from Max, in a way. The engineers at the race support room in Silverstone informed her that he had complained of overheating brakes and had been advised by the team to cool them. After a brief conversation with them about what to do and the possibility of Max retiring, she opened the radio channel with Fernando.

— Max has problems with his brakes. Difference dropping one second per lap. It's time to attack, Fer.

— Copy — he replied.

Watching him chase the RB19 around the track like a predator was fascinating to Charlie. The way he found the tenths of a second in each curve, passing within what seemed like millimeters of the Armco barriers sent a shiver through her body. It was sensual, wild, a kind of dance.

— You have DRS available — she said, as soon as she saw the three letters light up on the screen, an indication that Fernando had closed the gap enough. The closest he'd been all season.

And then, at the hairpin, when Max braked, his wheel locked. Losing the apex of the corner, he headed towards the gravel trap, opening the door for Fernando to pass and take the lead on the Casino Straight.

— Yes! C’mon! — he said into the radio, as Charlie took a deep breath, trying to contain herself as much as the garage cheered effusively. She had to concentrate on helping him build up a lead over Lewis, while Verstappen struggled with his own car before pitting and retiring.

When the dark green car crossed the finish line, she felt like she was on cloud nine. On the other side of the radio, Fernando roared in celebration, as if he was letting off the pressure of ten years without a win in Formula 1. All those years of frustration, doubts and challenges in other categories, in search of that feeling, that moment, those seconds when the work had finally come to fruition.

It was a mission accomplished. The plan had finally worked.

Meeting him after the race, drenched in sweat and champagne, was another thrill. The effort not to kiss him right there in the pit lane, in front of the world, was overwhelming, despite him not making an attempt to hide his delight at seeing her. He hastily shoved the first place trophy in the hands of his press officer to run towards her, picking Charlie up and twirling around with her in his arms.

— Thank you, thank you, thank you — Fernando repeated in her ear, while she laughed, tears streaming down her cheeks — Thank you so much.

— I have to thank you — Charlie said softly as he set her down on the ground — You're amazing, Fer.

— And you're beyond amazing, nena — he replied, before hugging her again, the champagne that was still on his overalls soaking into the front of her uniform polo, leaving a damp spot.

Two more wins followed, one in England and one in Hungary. At both races, the feeling of seeing him happy and on top of the podium was sublime for Charlie, not just because she'd done her job well and helped him achieve his goals for the weekend. It was the smile on Fernando's face, the pride in his eyes when he heard the notes of the Spanish anthem, the way he hugged her when he finally saw her in the pit lane each time.

And just when everything seemed perfect, everything fell apart.

Sunday's race at Spa, the last before the summer break, had been a replay of that catastrophic afternoon in Canada when they were both at McLaren. When Charlie heard Raúl tell her that there was a problem with the fuel consumption, a pit formed in her stomach.

This couldn't be happening again. It couldn't. She didn't deserve this, Fernando didn't deserve this, especially not when they were so close.

— The injection system is feeding the power unit erratically, consumption is above normal — the performance engineer said, pointing to the screen where the graphics foreshadowed the impending disaster.

Charlie felt her heart pounding in her chest.

— Is there anything we can do?

— At that point, all we can do is retire the car to see if we can save something from this power unit.

— Is that coming from mission control? — she asked, trying to buy herself some time to try to put into action some breathing exercise Hannah had taught her.

— Yes, and Mike already gave the okay.

Heaving a sigh, Charlie pressed the button next to Fernando's name.

— Fer, we have a problem that we can’t resolve. We're going to have to retire the car — she said, as she braced herself for a catastrophic response. An outburst of curses or worse, him fighting with her over the radio. “Please, Fernando”, she begged mentally, while he remained silent, seeming to process the information that his race was over.

— Understood — the driver muttered.

As soon as the car pulled up in front of the garage, Charlie took off her headphones and left them on top of the pit wall. She was beside herself with sadness and dread. She tried to assure herself that the team made the best decision for their championship ambitions, she couldn't help but think of how frustrated Fernando would be about it.

At that moment, it was killing her.

She watched as he climbed out of the car and handed Mikey, his mechanic, his HANS device, and walked toward the back of the garage without even taking his helmet off. Charlie ran after him, crossing the pit lane to try to catch up.

— Fernando! — she exclaimed, as he walked towards the paddock — Wait, Fernando.

However, Fernando continued to ignore her, making no effort to take his helmet off as he walked into the Aston Martin motorhome. The guest area was full, and all eyes were fixed on him, then on her. "I must look like an idiot", Charlie thought to herself, as she climbed the stairs.

She was out of breath by the time she reached the door of Fernando’s drivers room, but the door was open. She could see that he’d finally taken off his helmet and balaclava, his hair damp with sweat and sticking up at odd angles.

— Fer...

— What? — he asked gruffly, as he unzipped his overalls, revealing his black fireproofs.

— I'm sorry — Charlie said quietly.

The driver stared at her, not seeming to believe what she was saying.

— You’re sorry? Do you think that being sorry is of any use?

She blinked, stunned.

— I…

— Your sorry does me no good, because, in the end, I'm not on the track. I'm not doing what I love to do!

— I know…

— Why didn’t you let me stay out? — Fernando exclaimed, taking a step forward — Why didn't you ask me if I could continue?

— The car wouldn't have made it to the flag — Charlie stammered, her hands feeling clammy and cold.

— I could have figured it out, I could have.

— There was an issue with the fuel injection system, there was no way to keep going without severely damaging the rest of the power unit...

— Of course, for you there's never a way to keep going. The solution for you is to always accept the circumstances and do nothing.

— I never said we shouldn't do anything — she snapped.

— But you accepted that there was no resolution instead of talking to me and analyzing the alternatives.

— Do you think there's time to debate options in the middle of a race? Especially with you going 300km/h?

— It’s better than taking whatever shit life throws at you! You've been doing that since your McLaren days, haven’t you?

— Fernando, we don't need to talk...

— Actually, we don't need to — he said, cutting her off — You know I'm right. You know you’d been content for too long with that shitty team, with that fucking engine, and now that you have a chance to fight for more, you give up, just like you’re back there.

Charlie swallowed hard. Fernando didn’t know it, but by the end of her time at McLaren, she felt like she had stayed with the team far longer than she should have. Her working environment there was chaotic, made worse by the issues with the Honda and Renault engines, and the team’s inability to be competitive. But McLaren had taken her on fresh out of university and gave her a career in Formula 1, so she felt obligated to stay out of gratitude, even as things deteriorated season after season.

— You know why I was there so long...

— You stayed for the worst reason possible — he exclaimed — Staying only because your grandfather only likes English teams, that's ridiculous!

— He has his reasons...

— Stupid reasons that had you stick with a shitty, uncompetitive team when you could’ve moved on to bigger and better things! — Fernando shouted.

— Why does it matter? — Charlie said, raising her voice to match.

— It matters because you keep acting like you still work for McLaren and that all you can do is just give up!

The rational part of Charlie begged her to turn her back and leave Fernando talking to the walls, to leave him to take out his own frustration with the awful afternoon he'd had. However, she couldn’t help but stand there.

— What do you mean by that?

— You keep acting like a fucking loser!

His words landed like a punch to the gut.

— A loser? — she murmured, feeling her throat tighten and her lower lip quiver.

— Yes, that’s what I said. Are you deaf?

— Fernando…

— Charlotte, just get out of here and leave me in peace.

She thought of thousands of things to say at that moment. However, all Charlie could think to do was to leave the room. She walked to the engineers' office to pick up her backpack, feeling disoriented. “I have to go, I have to get out of here”, she thought, as she walked out of the motorhome, down the paddock, straight through the exit turnstiles, all without pause.

While waiting for the Uber, Charlie sent a quick message to Raúl, making up an excuse for having to leave before debriefing with Fernando. The last thing she needed was for him to say even worse things in front of everyone else.

In less than three hours, she was flying back to England without a second thought. There was no reason for it. It was all over.

— Miss? — someone said, touching her shoulder as she stared out the window. Charlie startled a bit before turning her head to see that there was a flight attendant standing in the aisle, a worried expression on her face — Do you need anything?

She hesitated for a few seconds, her mind searching for something plausible to say.

— No, I’m okay.

— Are you sure?

— Yeah, it's just something in my eye — Charlie lied, rubbing at her eyes in an effort to cover for herself.

— Well, if you need anything, we're here for you.

— Thanks — she replied, giving a sheepish smile.

After landing, Charlie drove to her grandparents' house to pick up Ron. Her grandparents always watched Charlie’s cat while she was out of town. As she put the cat’s carrier in the back seat, Amanda asked about her puffy eyes and red nose, irritated from rubbing it on the sleeve of her team sweatshirt.

— I'm fine, grandma, don't worry — Charlie said, as she sat in the driver's seat, forcing a smile.

If only she believed what she was saying.

Returning to her empty apartment was dismal. It was the start of summer break for Charlie. For the next four weeks, there would be no Formula 1, no traveling, no simulations to analyze, no videos to watch, no plans to make.

In a way, it was a good thing, as it would give Charlie the time and attention to focus on other things. She was determined to use the break wisely. She had a bookcase to assemble after buying it for her office over three months ago. There was a faucet in her kitchen that was leaking and needed to be fixed. She needed to organize her vinyl record collection after dismantling it to find one specific record to show Fernando during a video call — one of what seemed like hundreds that they’d had over the past few months.

“Forget about him”, Charlie told herself, shaking her head in order to physically push the thought away. He was part of the past, a reminder of something that no longer existed. The Fernando of the past few months was just a ruse. The real Fernando was the guy she’d known for so long. The real Fernando was the two-time world champion, demanding and uncompromising, who said and did what he wanted without regard for how his actions affected other people. The Fernando that she’d come to like was just in Charlie’s imagination, he never really existed, not even in her dreams.

"Was it all just a lie?", she asked herself, as she laid down on the bed with Ron purring at her feet.

She fell asleep with that question on her mind.

The first week of the summer break was tedious. Charlie busied herself with household chores, trips to the factory, and visits to her grandparents, not allowing herself a moment to think. It was intentional — she wanted to distract herself and not allow herself to imagine what it would be like to spend her summer break in Switzerland, especially not at a particular villa in Lugano.

But the second week was torture. With the factory on lockdown and a mandated restriction on the work she could do, her avenues for distraction were limited. She’d accomplished all of the chores around the house she’d wanted to do, as well. With no reason to leave the house, she found herself trapped in a cycle that consisted of drinking wine, watching LOST and feeling frustrated every time her cell phone’s screen lit up and it wasn’t Fernando.

After what had happened at Spa, she hadn't received any calls or texts from him. In fact, it was as if he had disappeared entirely, as not even his Instagram had been updated after the race. Charlie didn't want to admit it, but the lack of updates made her more anxious. She couldn’t even find recent photos from fans that had him tagged. What kind of Formula 1 driver was he to not post a single photo of his summer vacation?

That was the question she asked herself on Saturday night, when the doorbell to her flat rang.

— I’m coming, calm down — Charlie yelled, as she set her glass of wine on the coffee table and extricated herself from her sofa. She’d been lying on it with Ron on her chest for the last few hours, watching something mindless on television. It was strange for someone to ring her doorbell, and her first thought as she opened the door was that it would be Rita, her elderly neighbor, asking for her help with something.

But, it wasn’t Rita.

Standing in the doorway, wearing a black T-shirt, looking forlorn with his hands in the pockets of his jeans, was Fernando. However, it wasn't the clothes or the messy hair that caught Charlie's attention. It was the sadness present in his eyes.

— Good evening — he said softly.

— What are you doing here? — Charlie asked, her voice as dry and unimpressed as she could make it.

— I came to see you.

She snorted.

— As far as I last knew, you said you didn't want to see me anymore.

The driver let out a heavy sigh.

— Can we talk?

— We're already talking.

— Somewhere more private, I mean.

Charlie pursed her lips. Her neighbors definitely didn't need to see her arguing with Fernando Alonso in the hallway. She stepped aside and gestured for her to come in. He couldn't help but smile as he walked past her, into the living room of her flat.

Closing the door, Charlie took a deep breath before turning towards him. The driver was standing in the middle of the living room, looking around curiously. Seeing him in her flat gave her an odd feeling, until she realized something.

That was the first time he’d been to her flat.

— How did you find my address? — she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

— I spoke with HR — Fernando replied with a smile.

— And they gave you my address without saying anything?

— Of course not. They told me they couldn't hand over sensitive information about another employee, even someone who works closely with me. I tried to argue that I needed your address to send you a birthday gift, but they didn’t buy that.

She blinked.

— My birthday isn’t until October.

— I know.

Charlie hesitated, trying to puzzle out the situation.

— So, how…

— I made a personal appearance in the HR office and had a conversation with an intern. If you want an important tip for life, always have an envelope with you, you never know when you'll need it.

Charlie was shocked.

— You bribed an intern to get my address?

— Bribery is a very strong word, Charlie.

— How else would you describe it?

— I prefer “gratitude for services rendered”.

Running a hand over her face, she couldn't believe what he had done.

— And how much did my address cost?

— Less than Lewis’ mechanics cost me in 2007, that's for sure.

— How much? — Charlie repeated the question, placing a hand on her hip.

— A hundred pounds and an autograph.

She snorted, half outraged, half impressed by his audacity. Charlie couldn't fathom how troublesome that had been. Bribing someone for personal information could lead to serious problems within the company, both for him and the intern. But at the same time that she was pissed off, a part of her was in awe of all that effort on his part.

— What do you want, Fernando?

— I already told you, I wanted to see you.

— Well, if that's all, you’ve seen me, so you can go now.

— Charlie — he murmured, in a sad tone — I want to talk…

— What could we possibly have to talk about, Fernando?

— Charlie, you know what we have to talk about, and that’s what happened in Spa…

She shook her head.

— If you skipped out on your vacation to come to Northampton…

— Charlie...

— Just to complain about your fucking fuel injection system, you can leave right now, because I won't listen to any more of it…

— Fuck, Charlotte, I came to apologize! — he exclaimed, interrupting her.

Charlie felt her heart skip a beat.

— But…

— I came here to apologize to you — he repeated, in a lower tone — I came here to tell you that I was an asshole to you, and I’m sorry. I was upset about what happened at the race, but I shouldn't have any of the things I said to you.

— But you did say those things — she whispered.

— And I regret every word of it — Fernando continued — I regret saying that you act like a loser, I regret saying that your reasons for staying at McLaren were stupid. What I regret most, though, is when I asked you to leave me in peace.

— Why? — Charlie asked, feeling her throat tighten.

— Because it’s been horrible. It hasn’t been peaceful at all. Not having you by my side is the worst thing in the world, Charlotte. If living in peace means not having you with me, I would rather live in hell.

— Fer...

— I'm serious, Charlie — he said, stepping forward — I don't want you to leave me in peace. I want you to make every second of my life hell. Make my life an eternal torture if you need to. Please, make my life hell.

Her eyes burned with tears.

— I accept everything you do to me if it means I find heaven on your lips — Fernando whispered, his eyes wet — Torture me, destroy me. But please, don't leave me, Charlotte. Don't leave me alone. Because that is the real hell.

Charlie's lower lip quivered as her chest filled with a familiar, overwhelming warmth. Leaving Spa like she had had been horrible, almost as if she was leaving her own heart behind, and she’d found out the hard way that it was exactly what she’d done.

When she turned and left Fernando’s driver room, she’d left her heart with him.

— Come here, dickhead — she finally said, opening her arms.

Fernando stepped towards her, enveloping her in a tight embrace. With her head nestled against his neck, Charlie closed her eyes and allowed the tears that had been building to spill down her cheeks onto the fabric of his T-shirt. A few seconds later, he pulled back slightly, looking down at her. His eyes were red, and his cheeks were damp.

— Thank you — he whispered, resting his forehead on hers.

— For what? — she asked quietly.

— For not giving up on me.

She smiled as she brought a hand to his face, gently cupping his cheek.

— If I didn't give up on you even when you were the biggest asshole in the world, I wouldn't give up on you now.

Giggling, he moved closer to Charlie's face, kissing her gently. The taste of their tears mingled with the taste of the wine she had been drinking. After a few seconds, the driver pulled her face away slightly, his nose brushing her skin.

— Mi cielo. Mi paz. Mi luz — he murmured, pecking her lightly between the words.

Charlie couldn’t understand what his words meant, but hearing them in his delicious accent were enough to make her melt in his arms and kiss him even harder. As she felt Fernando's hands sliding down her back towards her ass, something inside her started to burn, her skin tingling.

She needed more than hugs or kisses.

She needed to fuck him.

Tugging on the front of his shirt, Charlie started to lead him through the corridors of her flat towards her bedroom. They stumbled on the way, unable to keep their hands off each other, divesting each other of their clothes as they walked. It would be almost funny to an outside observer, with arms getting trapped in t-shirts, a lock of Charlie’s hair ending up in Fernando’s mouth in the chaos, the stumbling and grasping and groping at the wall to find the bedroom lightswitch. However, as soon as Charlie felt the edge of her mattress behind her legs, a wave of warmth ran over her skin.

— Mi nena — Fernando purred as he placed her on the bed, his teeth grazing her neck — Te extrañé tanto, mi cielo.

— Fuck, Fer — Charlie grumbled, bringing her hands up to his shoulders, nails digging lightly into his skin.

And then, a loud hiss made Fernando yelp and stand up, looking startled at something above Charlie’s head. Following his gaze, she realized they weren't alone in the room. Standing on Charlie’s pillow with his back arched, fur standing on end, and ears back, was Ron.

— I think someone isn't happy that we interrupted his nap — the driver said to her, with a smile. Then, he stretched out his hand towards the cat — Hello…

However, if he expected the cat to sniff his hand in greeting, he was wrong. Ron gave Fernando a warning growl, even louder than before, before swiping at his hand with his front paw. Charlie pushed Fernando off of her and stood up.

— No, Ron, not like that! — she said, scolding the cat as she picked him up and set him on the floor — Be nice! We’ve already talked about this.

As she watched the orange cat bolt from her bedroom, Charlie ran a hand over her face. She had forgotten about Ron’s tendency to nap on her bed. She was embarrassed, but at the same time, she certainly didn’t blame the cat. He had been snoozing peacefully in the dark before being so rudely interrupted by the presence of a stranger, after all.

— Ron, huh? — she heard from behind her. When she turned around, she found Fernando sitting on the bed, a mischievous smile on his face — I guess I know your cat’s name now.

— Yeah, that’s Ron — Charlie replied.

— I didn't know you were a Harry Potter fan.

She blinked.

— I’m not… Not really.

The driver raised an eyebrow.

— But Ron is one of the characters, right? With red hair? I remember watching one of the movies with my nieces.

— I think so, but his name isn't Ron after Ron from Harry Potter.

— Where is his name from, then?

— Ron Dennis — she replied.

Fernando’s face fell.

— Are you joking?

— No, he's named after Ron Dennis.

Fernando laughed, incredulous.

— Did you name your cat after the guy who hates me?

— Yeah — Charlie said, closing the bedroom door.

— Charlotte! — the driver exclaimed.

— What? — she replied, with her hand on the doorknob — Are you bothered by my cat’s name?

— Of course, you named him after someone that hates me!

— Why do you think I chose that name?

Fernando blinked, looking shocked.

— Do you hate me? — he asked softly.

Charlie snorted, before stripping off the cotton bralette and shorts she was wearing, along with her panties. Then, placing her hands on her hips, she glared at him.

— Does it seem like I hate you?

Fernando was staring at her, his mouth open for a reply that seemed to get lost on the way to his lips. His pupils dilated as he took in every detail of her body, almost like he was trying to memorize details he’d seen dozens of times, from the fair and soft skin from her belly to the tattoo in her ribs of a V10 engine.

Charlie walked towards him, stopping in the space between his legs.

— I asked you a question — she said, her voice hard and serious.

— What was it again? — he mumbled, his eyes fixed on her breasts.

Charlie shook her head before touching her fingers to Fernando’s chin, gently tipping his head up to bring his gaze to hers.

— Does it seem like I hate you?

— No.

— Because I don't — she said softly, her fingers stroking his cheek — On the contrary. I quite like you, Fer.

Leaning on his shoulders, Charlie straddled Fernando's lap, her knees pressed against the mattress. The closeness of his skin to hers made her shiver, a mixture of excitement and anticipation that made something tingle just below her navel.

— Nena — the driver murmured, his hands drifting down to her ass, giving it a gentle squeeze.

— I like you quite a bit, my dear — Charlie continued, as she felt his beard brush against her skin as he buried his face in her neck — And my cat's name doesn't mean anything anymore.

— Mi cielo — Fernando whispered, before bringing his hands to her cheeks and slowly lying down on the bed. Then he kissed her slowly, his tongue patiently exploring her mouth, as if their week apart had dulled his memory of what she felt like, and he wanted to remember every inch of her again.

Pulling away slightly, Charlie unbuttoned Fernando’s jeans. With a laugh, she pulled them down with his underwear. Fernando smiled as his erection was revealed.

— Do you have a condom, or do I have to go to the car and get one?

She rolled her eyes as she positioned herself on top of him.

— Only if you go downstairs like that.

— Like that?

— Naked — Charlie said, with a smirk — It would be fun to see.

— Do you think your neighbors would appreciate it? — he asked, his fingers pressing into her hips as she brought her hand to his cock and pumped it a few times.

— My neighbors include a gay couple and an elderly widow. The sight of a handsome man like you walking naked down the hall would probably be pretty exciting — she replied, bringing her face closer to his — But, I don't think we need a condom today.

— Don't you want to see me running to the car naked?

— I don't want them to see you naked — Charlie said, towering over him — That's for my eyes only.

Pulling her hips down onto his, Fernando let out a growl as he penetrated her, while Charlie let out a long sigh, the pleasure coursing through her body like a warm wave. They had already had sex dozens of times, in many places and positions, but the first few seconds always felt like the first time they became intimate on that night in Imola, like settling into a warm bath.

— All good? — he asked through clenched teeth.

— Yeah, my dear. And you?

— Yeah, just — Fernando stopped moving for a moment, seemingly to try and catch his breath — You're going to drive me crazy, nena.

Charlie chuckled.

— We’ll see — she replied, moving her hips slowly, gasping softly as she felt his cock brush against a specific spot inside her.

It didn't take long for them to find a rhythm that they both liked, with Charlie resting one hand just above the tattoo on his abdomen to steady herself. The sound of their bodies colliding mingled with their sighs and moans, as well as her wetness, which was already forming a shiny layer on his cock.

— Fuck — Fernando groaned, his hands making their way up her stomach until he could cup her breasts. The way he was touching her, with his rough fingers massaging her sensitive nipples, made heat course through Charlie's body in ever-increasing waves.

— Yes, Fer, yes — she moaned, tightening her hold on his hip, rubbing her own clit against his pubic bone. Charlie felt as if she were in limbo between agony and ecstasy, her muscles tensing as she chased her release. It was tantalizingly close, but still too far away.

Suddenly, Fernando decided to take matters into his own hands. He planted his feet on the mattress for maximum leverage, gripped Charlie's waist tightly and began to thrust, angling his hips so Charlie canted forward a bit, giving her more friction where she wanted it. The sudden change in pace had her letting out a loud moan, her nails digging into his arms.

— You're going to come… For me… Mi cielo ? — he asked through gritted teeth, his fingers pressing into her skin harder with each thrust. The driver seemed to be clinging to the little self-control left in his body to get her closer to her orgasm.

— I… Yes, fuck, yes!

— Then… Come — he growled, practically as an order.

And then, Charlie came undone.

Pressing her knees against his ribs, she felt her body become seized by the tension before relaxing, the pleasure coursing through her like an overwhelming tsunami. Beneath her, Fernando gave a few definitive thrusts, his voice strained as he called Charlie by her full name as he released himself, deliciously hot, inside her. Still shaking, she collapsed on top of him, her eyes half-closed and her heart racing in her chest.

They stayed in that position for what seemed like an eternity. There was no reason to move when she felt complete, with Fernando inside her, hot and pulsing as he gradually softened. There was no reason to move, not when she was enjoying being back where she should have been all along, where she always wanted to be.

— Are you okay, nena ? — Charlie heard Fernando whisper below her. Cocking her head, she found him looking at her with a tired little smile on her face.

— I’m wonderful. And you?

— I'm great, actually.

— Good — she replied softly, smiling.

A few seconds of silence followed, the two gazing at each other as if neither of them knew what to say. For Charlie, there weren’t words that felt adequate enough to describe what she was feeling. That almost unbearable feeling of joy and desire and satisfaction that filled her chest and made her want to laugh and cry at the same time.

— I missed you — Fernando whispered, caressing Charlie’s cheek with his fingers.

— I missed you too — she said, smiling. Fernando smiled, bringing his lips to hers and kissing her gently, one hand sliding down her back, resting against the base of her spine in a gesture that felt equally affectionate and protective. It was a simple contact, but it felt so intimate that it made Charlie wish that time would stop, so that they never had to leave.

However, it was not to be.

The sound of Ron meowing and scratching at the bedroom door made her let out a long, frustrated sigh.

— I think someone isn't happy — Fernando muttered.

— He must be hungry — Charlie replied, snuggling his head on the driver's chest, trying to enjoy every last moment she could with him — This is normally when I feed him.

— Do you want to get up?

— No, but I need to get up. If I don’t, he will whine all night.

He placed a kiss on her forehead.

— Stay here, I'll get you something to clean you up — Fernando said, as he put her on the mattress and finally got out of Charlie's body. The empty feeling had her pressing her thighs together, trying to push away the discomfort.

— You can get one of the flannels from the bathroom — she instructed as watched him get out of bed.

— Where is that? — he asked, his eyes scanning the room, doubtlessly searching for his underwear.

— Second door on the left — Charlie replied, stifling a laugh when she realized he had a hand on his own cock — And you don't have to hide your dick here.

Fernando looked over his shoulder at her, a sly smile on his face.

— You're a naughty little thing, you know that? — he said, before taking his hand away and stepping out of the room. As Fernando disappeared into the hallway, Charlie saw Ron slip inside and jump onto the mattress. He sat at the edge of the bed, watching Charlie carefully.

He gave her a meow that sounded like a whine.

— Oh, my love — Charlie murmured, reaching out her hand to scratch his tufted ears. He backed away a little, before leaning his head closer and sniffing her fingers, which probably smelled like a Formula 1 driver to Ron. However, the cat soon relented, pressing his head into her hand — I'm going to feed you, okay? Just wait a little bit.

Fernando returned to the bedroom, already in his underwear and with a damp flannel in his hand. With a small smile, he sat on the edge of the bed, close to her legs. His presence made Ron hiss as the tip of his fluffy tail twitched angrily.

— No, Ron — Charlie scolded him again while scratching under his chin — No fighting with Fernando, he's my friend.

— Friend? — he asked, raising an eyebrow at her, resting a hand on one of her knees.

— Yeah, friend. My friend.

— Just your friend?

— Yes, is there a problem with that?

— No, Charlotte — Fernando replied, gently swiping the damp fabric over her labia — I just wonder if you let all your friends clean your pussy after having sex with you.

— Well, do you let all your friends ride your cock, Fernando? — Charlie asked, mimicking his sarcasm.

He chuckled, pulling his hand away from between her legs.

— Not all of them — the driver said, causing her to raise an eyebrow — Only one, actually. The prettiest one.

— Do I know her? — she asked, sitting up in bed.

— Yes, you see her every day in the mirror — Fernando replied, giving one of those smiles that made Charlie's heart melt — I'll take this to the laundry basket. Do you need anything?

— No, I’m fine. I need to get up and feed Ron.

— Want your clothes?

— I'll get something from the closet — she said, as she got up from the bed, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. However, before going to the wardrobe, Charlie felt one of Fernando's hands slide around her waist, stopping her for a few seconds. When she turned her face, she found him staring at her with a goofy smile on his face.

— You're beautiful — he murmured.

— You already said that.

— I don't mind repeating myself.

— And I don’t mind hearing you repeat yourself.

— You’re beautiful. The most beautiful woman in the world.

She gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek before walking to her dresser, grabbing the first clothes she saw. Afterwards, she walked to the kitchen, Ron following after on her heels. She put a scoop of kibble in Ron’s bowl and crouched next to him, encouraging to eat, but watching his owner interact with the interloper seemed to make Ron lose his appetite. After a few minutes, though, he started picking at the food in the wide, flat dish, his head shaking as he crunched.

— Good boy. Now, it’s time to go to bed — she said, after Ron had seemingly eaten his fill. She walked back to the bedroom with Ron following after her again, jumping up to his usual spot next to Charlie’s pillow. However, upon seeing Fernando lying on the bed again, Ron hissed and left the room. "I'll sort this out tomorrow", Charlie thought to herself. Charlie laid down next to Fernando, and he threw his arm around her waist, pulling her body closer to his.

— Good night, nena — Fernando whispered, kissing her neck.

— Good night, Fer.

The sun was shyly peeking through the crack in the curtain when Charlie woke up the next day. Stretching a hand across the sheets, she found it strange that they were cold. As she opened her eyes, trying to clear the remnants of sleep from her vision, she found that she’d woken up alone. She was a little puzzled, but went to the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth.

The silence inside the apartment was unsettling, especially with the knowledge that she’d fallen asleep in someone’s arms, and that someone was nowhere to be seen. However, as soon as Charlie entered the living room, she felt her heart warm.

Fernando was sitting in an armchair near the sliding door that led to her flat’s balcony. His face was illuminated by the sun’s rays that managed to break through the cloudy Northampton summer sky. His eyes were closed and his head was tipped back, and he seemed to be in his own world. As she got closer, Charlie noticed that Fernando was chewing on something.

The grumbling of an irritable cat made Fernando open his eyes and look down to his feet. Ron hissed at him again, clearly disturbed by Fernando’s presence, but too stubborn to actually move. After years of being the only male in the household, he clearly felt threatened by the arrival of another, especially one who stole his owner’s attention and affection. Fernando just smiled at the ginger-colored instigator.

— I didn’t think cats liked peaches — he murmured, taking another bite of fruit, the juice running down his chin, some of it getting caught in his beard. He swiped at the edges of his mouth with his fingers as the remnants made them glisten in the sunlight.

Charlie watched without saying anything, and felt something tingling below her navel, and felt her heart racing a little. The shine on his lips reminded her of the times when Fernando had laid her in bed and taken her to her climax with his mouth. The memory of him between her legs, his eyes locked on hers as he pleasured her with his tongue made her melt.

It was then, seeing Fernando looking so comfortable in her flat, remembering their nights together, that made her realize just how much she had missed him.

Charlie had missed their stolen kisses and touches, the words murmured with desire in her ear. She had missed his stubble brushing the inside of her thighs, his tongue and fingers circling her clit, the satisfied sounds he made when he felt her pull at his hair.

Charlie walked quietly toward the balcony door, watching as Fernando took another bite of the peach. Then, as he chewed, he turned his face to her, giving her a small smile.

— Good morning, nena — he murmured, his mouth still full.

Without saying anything, Charlie eased herself into his lap, wrapping one of her arms around the back of his neck. Then she brought the thumb of her free hand to his chin, wiping away the juice and fruit pulp caught in his beard and bringing it to her mouth, savoring the sweet notes of fruit on her tongue.

However, nothing was sweeter than the way Fernando looked at her.

— Good morning — Charlie said, before kissing him slowly and deeply, enjoying the taste of fruit on his lips. It was sensual, almost erotic, and unlike anything she’d ever done. But she felt comfortable like this, like it was just part of their daily routine.

Pulling her face away from his, she nestled her head into the crook of his neck, eyes closed against the sunlight. "This is heaven", Charlie thought, as she felt Fernando caress her arm.

— Have you been up long?

— About 20 minutes, I think. Ron woke me up.

Charlie cocked her head toward Ron.

— He did?

— He climbed on top of me and stared at me for a while. When I tried to pet him, he started grumbling.

She sighed, looking down at the cat. Charlie felt bad for not taking their introduction more slowly, but there was nothing to be done. It wasn’t like she was expecting Fernando to drop by any time soon.

— Yeah, I don’t think he likes you.

— What a surprise, another Ron that hates me — he muttered.

— Well, unlike the human Ron, this one can be won over.

— How? Do I need to neatly slice up my fruit before eating it in front of him?

— No, we can start with treats. This Ron doesn't care how you eat your peaches.

— The human Ron does.

— Well, that’s just one of his problems — Charlie sneered as she stood up from Fernando’s lap. — You’re familiar with how bribery works, so let’s bribe this cat.

#fa #fernando alonso #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #fernando alonso fic #fernando alonso x oc #fernando alonso fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fic #formula 1 fic #formula one fanfic #formula one x oc #formula 1 x oc #f1 x oc #nordswrites

49 notes · View notes

marciabrady · 2 years

Text

rachel ze*ger: *bashes Disney's Snow White as a dated portrayal of women without substance and says her Snow White will actually have to learn lessons throughout the film, unlike the original*

actual quotes from the original film that depict some of the lessons Snow White both learns and teaches during her narrative, identifying her value to past and future audiences:

"I really feel quite happy now. I'm sure I'll get along somehow. Everything's going to be all right." The power of positivity and optimism yields resilience in the face of adversity. Snow White was almost murdered and had to run away from the only home she'd ever known. She had a panic attack and allowed herself to process her emotions in a healthy way, and once she acknowledged her feelings, she instantly felt much better and began to make plans on how to rebuild her life. You can't become a product of the things that have happened to you- you have to continue moving through life. So yes- acknowledge what's happening, process your emotions, but also don't let circumstances outside of your control destroy you. Get back up and keep going, even when it seems impossible. You're capable of so much more than you realize.

"Please don't run away. I won't hurt you. I'm awfully sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you. But you don't know what I've been through. And all because I was afraid. I'm so ashamed of the fuss I've made." Despite what you're currently going through, you can't let that bleed through to how you affect and treat other people. Always be mindful of the impact you have on others and never allow yourself to become a victim of your own misfortune. While it's important to allow yourself to fully experience the weight of your own emotions, sometimes getting too stuck in your own circumstances can make a situation worse and create additional barriers for you to conquer. Keep everything in perspective and keep your eyes open to the communities around you.

"And as you sweep the room, imagine that the broom, is someone that you love and soon you'll find you're dancing to the tune." Always infuse even the most mundane things about you with love and suddenly your work, no matter how seemingly inconsequential it may be, will feel meaningful.

"When hearts are high the time will fly so whistle while you work." Doing something with lifted spirits and in a state of happiness makes a job ten times easier than setting about to accomplish something in a miserable mood. Nine times out of time, working on something when you're in a good disposition will also provide better results and findings.

"I know! We'll clean the house and surprise them. Then maybe they'll let me stay." Never expect anything from anyone. While Snow White assumed that the cottage belonged to orphans, making it an orphanage- and she, herself, is an orphan and she'd then have a rightful place there if, indeed, it was an orphanage- she didn't expect free room and board. She looked about her and noticed that there were gaps to be filled- namely in cleaning and cooking- and then went about fulfilling those tasks, which she hoped to leverage to bargain shelter for herself.

"Now you wash up the dishes. You tidy up the room. You clean the fireplace. And I'll use the broom!" Divide and conquer! Snow White delegated the various tasks of cleaning to the different animals and accomplished what would've individually taken her all day in a single afternoon. Identify the strengths and weaknesses of those around you, and work together as a collective to bring yourselves closer to a shared goal.

"You think their mother would- maybe they have no mother. Then they're orphans. That's too bad." Never assume anything about other people because you don't know the path of life they walk down and their situation. Never judge someone by what they're wearing or what they look like or the house they live in because you're never going to be fully aware of their circumstances and you'll come across as ignorant. Lead with compassion, always.

"If you let me stay, I'll keep house for you. I'll wash and sew and sweep and cook..." To avoid being kicked out of the haven she'd found, Snow White needed to pitch her values to the future landlords. As mentioned above, Snow White noticed the gaps that were needed to be filled in the house and pitched her services accordingly to tempt the dwarfs into letting her stay. It's hard to argue in the face of facts. Snow White knew the value she could bring to the Dwarf's cottage and wasn't shy about presenting it to them in a plea to allow her refuge.

"Oh, [you've washed] recently? Let me see your hands!" Never take anything anyone says at face value. If you're doubting them, call them on their bluff and ask for proof- and never be afraid to voice your doubt.

"March straight outside and wash or you'll not have a bite to eat!" Despite the fact that the Dwarfs nearly kicked her out before agreeing to letting her stay, Snow White had ownership of the tasks related to cooking and cleaning and she wouldn't budge until the Dwarfs behaved accordingly to the standards she set in place. She treated them as equals which, in turn, made them treat her as an equal. Sometimes, people are too afraid to come off as bossy or intimidating, or to throw their weight around, but there are moments you'll need to assert yourself and if you play second fiddle to someone, they'll treat you as just that.

"Bless the seven little men who have been so kind to me." Before wishing for anything for herself, or allowing herself to fall into a line of self despair over the tragic events of what happened to her earlier in the day, Snow White is grateful among all else. She thanks the Seven Dwarfs for their generosity toward her and asks for God to bless them. With a grateful heart, you can accomplish anything, and if you're thankful for the good things in your life and don't take anything for granted, your fortune will only multiply.

"Well, aren't you going to wash? What's the matter[, Grumpy]- cat got your tongue?" Snow White wasn't afraid to match Grumpy's energy in the moments he exhibited hatred toward her, but she always kept it playful and never meanspirited. If we encounter hatred in the workplace or at home, sometimes it behooves us to stick up for ourselves or comment on the apparent behavior others are exhibiting toward us. Always be mindful of limitations and how to express this in a safe way though- Snow White never pokes a hornet's nest or says anything toward Grumpy that would threaten the home she'd made for herself in the cottage. She knows exactly how close to walk up to the line.

more lessons we can observe from snow white in the 1937 film from her body language and different plot points:

Leave a situation that's dangerous and frightening to you. The minute the Huntsman tells Snow White of the Queen's motives, Snow White flees into the forest for refuge. She didn't try to sympathize with the Queen or reason her way out of it. Snow White recognized the potential danger she was in and she worked quickly to remove herself from it. A girl I worked with once said Snow White was dense for this- after all, why wouldn't she work with the Huntsman to ensure he'd bring her food and water while she was in the forest or assist in finding her a place of shelter? But the fact of the matter is, Snow White trusted the Huntsman once and that resulted in him nearly killing her. Cutting ties with him was the most conducive way to a safe future. Even if he didn't want to hurt her, if Snow White's whereabouts were known to him, there's no telling what the Queen would do to him to retrieve that information or to force him into using that knowledge to put Snow White in a place of danger, once again. More on this in the incredible post my friend made.

Make your intentions known! Snow White, in many ways, is a product of manifestation. Her mother wished for a child as white as snow, as black as the ebony on her window-frame, and as red as blood, and she received just that from the universe. Likewise, Snow White didn't shy away from making her wishes known to the wishing well- the wish of love after years of neglect and isolation and abuse- and her love came to her by the end of the song. Later, during the scene with the apple, she again voices her wish to be reunited with her lost love- and sure enough, it comes true!

Trust your instincts! So many people overlook this lesson that Snow White teaches, but she was visibly uncomfortable by the hag during their shared scenes. Her body language depicts her consistently shrinking away from the other woman, and generally behaving in an uneasy demeanor with tense facial expressions and a disturbed energy. She even openly says, "I feel strange" after consuming the apple. The hag applied to Snow White's compassion, identifying it as a "weak spot", because she could tell Snow White was growing increasingly vague and guarded.

Don't judge a book by its cover. Snow White wasn't frightened by the hag because of her unconventional appearance, but the frightening energy with which she interacted with Snow White. However, Snow White never judged the hag's appearance and when the hag feigned a heart attack, Snow White's compassion motivated her to nurse the old woman back to health and give her a drink of water. Juxtapose this with the Beast from Beauty and the Beast who couldn't see past the hag's outer appearance and refused to offer her shelter for the night. In turn, he was cursed until he learned the lesson that Snow White had already known.

Never expect anything from anyone or rely on a title. Snow White is the Princess of the land the Seven Dwarfs dwell in, yet she never once relied on her title or power in her interactions with them. She easily could've pulled rank and pointed out that since their property fell on the land of her rule and her former parents' rule, they should be more than willing to accommodate her. Instead of relying on these false barometers of social standing, Snow White interacted with them on a human level and offered to work in exchange for her room and board. This led to the Dwarfs interacting with her as an equal in return and they had so much more love for her than they would've if she pulled a "do you know who I am" card, leading them to rush to the cottage that much more quickly when they sensed she was in danger and surrounding her coffin in eternal vigil prior to the ending of the film.

Be open to different ways of thought and to the world around you. We live in a nuanced, vibrant world with so many different ways of thought and methods of approaching a conflict. One of the top attributes employers look for in future hires is a teachable spirit. There are many times throughout the film where Snow White askes those around her for ideas and is open to advice. "What do you do when things go wrong?" "Maybe you know where I can stay- in the woods, somewhere? You do? Will you take me there?" Snow White is always open to experiencing the world around her and never discounts the opinions and thoughts and values of those around her. In turn, she leads a very full life and this resourcefulness serves her in moments in dire need- like when she's homeless in the woods with no future prospects or connections.

#snow white #snow white defense tag #snow white 1937 #oof i'm so angry #i get lily and elle did this #and naomi to a certain extent #but like #this hurts the deepest #there's so much hate for snow white already that #i would've expected rachel to respect the character or understand her somewhat #or be the person to present the character in an authentic way that would soften contemporary audiences up to snow white #what she's doing is cheap and disgusting and anything but novel

188 notes · View notes